Yuri nodded, still not looking convinced.
"Who was shot?" I asked. "One of my men?"
Yuri shook his head. "I do not know. But we will find out very shortly."
"Let me talk to them," I urged. "They may try to take cover, fight back. If I let them know I'm here, they won't."
Yuri appeared to consider that for a moment, then he nodded. "Call to them," he said. "Tell them to walk toward the sound of your voice. I have ordered my men not to kill them immediately ― not until we understand what is happening here. You understand, by doing this, you will lead them to us. If this is a trap, they will both die. Before your eyes."
I nodded, accepting the bargain. I took a deep breath, "Bird Dog, Gator ― it's Admiral Magruder. Tombstone."
The silence persisted. I could hear no one moving in the brush, not even my Americans, who were as unskilled as I in the jungle.
Still no answer. "Look, what does it take to convince you?" I shouted. "I'm not under duress ― you know I was on Jefferson, know I left there with an F-14 for the mainland. Maybe you don't know why I came ― maybe that's what's got you worried. They told me there were traces of my father's time in a POW camp here. I've been tracking them down. That's what I'm doing in the jungle, Bird Dog. Gator, talk to him ― make him listen to common sense. You always could do that."
Still no answer.
"What do you want me to do, recite the Chargers starting lineup for you? That only works in the movies, Gator. Bird Dog, remember Callie? Remember how you wangled your way out to Jefferson while you were supposed to be at the War College? And Gator, I know something about you too ― that half the time, you're about ready to strangle that young pilot of yours. He's gotten you into more fixes than anyone else around, and you keep bailing him out. But you love him like a brother, don't you? I know you do ― I can see it in your face.
"Bird Dog, you were popcorn officer back when I was in command on Jefferson. You remember that? You used to come up with the most god-awful concoctions. Like putting pineapple syrup in the popper. I was so glad when you were promoted ― at least we could go back to having decent popcorn in the ready room."
By now, I figured they were convinced that I was who I said I was. The only question remaining in their mind would be whether or not I was under duress, being held under gunpoint by Vietnamese forces simply to lure them out into the open. I turned to Yuri. "I have to go to them," I said. "They're not going to believe that I'm operating under my own free will if I don't. And I need something to convince them." I held out my hand for his rifle.
Yuri scowled. "How do I know this is not a trap?"
I stared back at him levelly. "You don't. All you have is my word ― and the fact that I've trusted you so far. Now give me the rifle."
Finally, after an apparent inner struggle, Yuri handed over his AK-47. I took it in both hands, held it out in front of me, and walked toward the place where I'd last heard the noise. "Bird Dog, Gator ― look. I'm coming toward you. There are some men moving up quietly on you. And I want them to hold still. Tell them, Yuri."
Back behind me, I heard Yuri shout out some commands in Ukrainian. I could discern no change in the bushes, but I was certain that he had told them to halt their advance.
"Look out, you can see me," I called. "I've got a rifle in my hands. Would I have a weapon if I were under duress? Yeah, it could be unloaded ― but it's not." I pointed the weapon up at the sky and pressed the trigger briefly. A small spat of gunfire followed. "See? C'mon out, guys. You have to know that I wouldn't do this, not even if I were under duress, if it meant your lives."
Finally, a noise from ahead, maybe forty feet away. Two figures rose slowly, one propping the other up. I saw the mud-streaked and battered faces of Bird Dog and Gator peering out at me. They were still in their flight suits, but they looked much the worse for wear.
I walked toward them, almost running now. I grabbed both of them in a tight embrace. Gator howled, and I pulled back abruptly. "He's injured?" A flash of rage ― had the Cossacks done this? Had the bullet found Gator's arm?
Bird Dog nodded. "When we punched out ― and his knee. The Vietnamese did something to it, during the interrogation. He's in pretty bad shape, Admiral." Bird Dog looked up at me appealingly, the sheer shock of the circumstances and what he'd been through in the last week on his face. I reached for Gator more carefully now, working my way around his injuries. "C'mon ― we have some medical gear."
I led them back out of the bush and toward the troop of Cossacks. Yuri looked relieved as we approached, although he still scanned the bush around him nervously. "They are yours," he said finally. "But we have a very large problem now, Admiral. That gunfire, it will have alerted the Chinese in the facility. We must leave ― immediately."
"No," I said flatly. "I've come this far, and there's too much at stake. I must see the facility ― I must. Send most of your men back, and have them take Bird Dog and Gator with them. See that this man gets medical treatment ― you can see that he's injured. But you and I, and your Cossack friend, will proceed on. Far enough to at least see this facility, to give me something that I can take back to my people."
Yuri started to protest, and I cut him off. "I don't own weapons on that aircraft carrier now, Yuri," I said. "There are people I have to convince ― a few, at least. Just how important is this to you, Yuri? Are you willing to go as far as I am to stop this now?"
Yuri looked subdued. Then finally he nodded. He barked out a few, harsh, quiet orders in Ukrainian, then motioned to my Cossack escort. "We will see how good you are, Admiral Magruder," he said quietly. "The odds are that we will not return. If so, your men's lives are forfeit, along with those that you have already lost."
I nodded. Bird Dog and Gator held hostage against my good behavior. It was a fair enough trade. "Let's get going then."
Most of Yuri's men formed up around Gator and Bird Dog. One large, massive Cossack swung Gator over his shoulder, the movement oddly gentle. They may not have been from the same nation, they may have been on different sides of too many conflicts in the past, but one-on-one there is something about one fighting man that another recognizes. They moved off into the brush, disappearing, and leaving us alone.
The Cossack grunted, and muttered something sharp. Yuri nodded. "We need to clear out of this area immediately," he said. He pointed off to his right. "There's another path ― a hard one, up the mountain, but it will be more secure. And we will be able to see people approaching us as well."
The Cossack took point, I took the middle position, and Yuri brought up the rear. We moved quickly, as quietly as we could, but concentrating on speed at the expense of some noise. I could already hear shouts and cries from somewhere far off floating in the air, and it was evident that my brief burst of gunfire had aroused some interest from the camp.
A harder course this time, sometimes up virtually sheer rock walls and around massive boulders. We threaded our way along animal tracks, ghosts moving through this land that belonged to none of us. Finally we reached the crest of the hill, and Yuri tugged me into position. He handed me a pair of binoculars.
"See ― there it is." He moved my head slightly in the direction he'd indicated.
I could see a compound, one markedly different from the prison camps I'd inspected earlier. I tweaked the binoculars, bringing the picture into sharper focus. There were men in uniform there, although not the style I recognized as being either Ukrainian or Vietnamese. No, they were different, looser-fitting and darker in color. Many of them carried weapons at the ready, and there was an air of activity and alarm in their movements.