"That's why I'm going, too," Lucy interjected.
"Like hell you are," said her parents.
"If David is losing it, I'm the only one here he might still listen to," Lucy insisted, getting up off Ned's lap. "You know as well as I do that he believes-as do I-that there's some preordained connection between us, some act in a play we're in that the curtain hasn't closed on yet."
"Very poetic," Karp said, "but no way do I risk losing my daughter as well as my son."
"It's not up to you, Daddy," Lucy said softly. "I make my own decisions. Zak's my brother, but even if he weren't in danger, a lot of other people are going to die if I don't get to David."
Karp was still trying to adjust to being told by his little girl that he wasn't responsible for her safety anymore when Tran spoke up. "She's right," he said. "Our best chance is doing this the Vietcong way. A small, fast group using stealth to get behind the enemy's lines and hit him when and where he doesn't expect it. Perhaps with a diversion to draw his attention elsewhere, but not so large-like your friend with the FBI would certainly do-that the terrorists panic and set off their bomb prematurely. We have to count on Grale's belief that the leader of the terrorists intends to be long gone before the bomb is set off-that's why he has the escape route."
Karp studied Tran for a moment. The wide face was still handsome though furrowed with lines of age, as well as joy and sorrow, the once jet-black hair now more of a gunmetal blue-gray. The teacher-turned-guerilla-turned-bandit chief was an interesting dichotomy. He'd been such a loyal friend to Karp's family, especially Marlene, whom Karp suspected Tran was in love with. But he was also the head of a crime syndicate and had no compunctions about using violence, even murder, to achieve his ends. He'd known the man for more than a decade, yet knew so little about what made him tick; he was sure, however, that the man's loyalties lay with Marlene and arguing with him wasn't going to accomplish anything.
Karp turned to Jojola, hoping that as a police chief, the Indian would side with the notion of calling in law enforcement. Two hours after Karp had arrived home to find that the world had just gone to hell in a handbasket, Jojola was already looking better. His wound-an ugly, festering bite-had been cleaned and treated; a second shot of penicillin seemed to have kicked the infection, at least temporarily, and chilled his fever. But instead of siding with him, Jojola suggested a compromise.
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Lucy and…," Jojola started to say Cop, an indication of how his emotions had been warring since that moment in the tunnel. "…and Tran. We're going to need the element of surprise to take out the enemy's leadership, save Zak, and secure the bomb."
"What then?" Karp said. "So you're sitting on the bomb when these guys regroup and come to take it back. From what I've heard, these terrorists have trained men with them, too."
Jojola nodded. "Yes, that's where my plan would go a bit beyond what Marlene and Tran have already proposed."
"How so?"
"I'd say give us two hours, and then send in the cavalry." The others murmured their agreement.
Feeling that he'd reached the best settlement under the circumstances, Karp voiced his final objection. "Okay, you do it your way, for two hours only. But I still don't like the idea of Lucy going. John, you and Tran know what you're doing, and God only knows that my wife has a certain flair for this sort of thing, though I'd hoped we'd moved beyond that. But Tran has worked with the Mole People; maybe he can persuade Grale without Lucy."
Before Lucy could answer, Jojola spoke up again. "I'm also going to side with Lucy on this one. I know this might not seem like a logical reason to you. But my dream told me that Grale was alive and that I needed to find him. I found him and now we know what we're up against.
"Lucy also has had a dream of these tunnels and Grale's role in this. Our fates seem to be tied to each other-the three of us, and I suspect you, Marlene, Tran, even the boys. Now, it could be that the end result is only that we die together, and that these dreams and the coincidences that have played out are only the spirits' way of calling us home. But I have to think that there's something more to this. Some reason that goes beyond a common death. And I think Lucy is meant to be our link to Grale."
The room was quiet except for the panting of Gilgamesh. Then Ned, who'd stayed in the background listening to what sounded like some scene out of a Hollywood spy movie, spoke up. "I'm going too."
"Sorry, Ned, but no," Marlene said. "I know you want to protect Lucy, but this isn't a good idea. I don't like Lucy going, but at least the risk makes sense."
"I can shoot."
"Tin cans and rabbits," Jojola said. "There is a difference when the target is a human being and he's shooting back at you. I don't doubt your courage, but this is not a Wild West show."
"Then I'll follow you," Ned said. He pointed to Lucy. "Wherever she goes, I go. Try to stop me, and we'll find out whether I'm any good at shooting human targets."
The older of Tran's men laughed. "Americans are all such cowboys," he scoffed. "They think they can ride in, bang, bang, the bad men are all dead. Then off into the sunset."
Tran cut him off. "Perhaps, but there is something about their cowboy mythology that you don't realize and that is they don't believe they can lose, even when they're beaten. If you haven't completely forgotten our own history, you might recall what happened to us at Khe Sanh. Yes, we eventually won our country-only to see a new tyrant take the old tyrant's place-but it wasn't due to the lack of courage or fighting ability of these American cowboys."
"And Indians," Jojola said. "When you talk about cowboys, don't forget the Indians." He meant it lightly, but Tran's face grew sad.
"No," he replied. "I will never forget the Indians, especially those who hunted us."
Jojola's face darkened. "At least we didn't murder almost every man, woman, and child in the Hmong village, or cut off their ears for the sin of 'listening to the Americans.' At least the men we hunted could defend themselves."
Tran furrowed his brow. "You think that was my doing?" he said. "I was told that was an atrocity committed by a traitor among you-a South Vietnamese officer and his men-because he suspected that the Hmong were helping us. It wasn't true, by the way, but my men and I left them alone." A light dawned on Tran's face. "Ahhh, now I know why you and your partner began taking the ears of my men. It did not seem like your way at the time."
"And what about my friend-his name, by the way, was Charlie Many Horses," Jojola said. "You killed him."
"How can you blame me for that?" Tran said. "He was trying to kill me."
Jojola was quiet. "I will need to ask Charlie what he wants me to do," he said at last. "I have lived with the hatred of Cop for so long; it is a tough thing to realize that my old enemy is also my new friend."
"In the meantime, we have a whole new set of enemies for you two," Marlene said. "When do we go?"
"We will have to wait until dark-four hours from now," Tran said. "The police are all over the area now, and a bunch of people running around with guns is going to attract more than the usual amount of attention. I have two men watching the theater now; with the two I have here our little band of sappers comes to nine."
"Ten," Karp said. "Zak's my son. I'm going, too."
"Sorry, Butch, but we need you here to call in the cavalry," Marlene said. He started to argue but she put her fingers to his lips. "Please, my love, you know I'm right. Besides, if…if something happens, Giancarlo will need you. But I think we will need a tenth member."