Raines: “Bemidji guys, you’re right on top of each other, do you see each other? Give me a click if you do.” Click. “Okay, spread out, we want a line between the west edge of the house running down to the river… that’s good… now moving forward… Careful, you got Jarlait closing in along the bank. Jarlait, you might be moving too fast, take it easy.”
Raines kept talking them through it, the Bemidji cops and Jarlait closing on Virgil, the heat signatures by the river hardly moving at all. Raines finally said, “Okay, everybody stop. I think these guys are waiting for a little light. Bemidji guys, Virgil’s about fifty yards straight ahead of you. Virgil, the four who got out of the boat are still in a group, they’re maybe fifty yards straight ahead of you. Bunch, you’re good. Wait there, or someplace close. Looks a little lighter out there… sun’ll be up in an hour.”
THEY WAITED, nobody moving, soothed by Raines. “Everybody stay loose, stay loose…”
Virgil first imagined that the sky was growing brighter, then admitted to himself that it wasn’t: a common deer-hunting phenomenon. Then it did get brighter, slowly, and Virgil could see the tips of trees, and then the tips of branches, and then a squirrel got pissed somewhere and started chattering, and the woods began to wake up.
“They’re moving,” Raines said. “They’re coming in two plus two. Two are going further up the bank, two are coming right at you, Virgil. They’re closing, you’ll see them, if you can see them, in about a minute… Rest of you guys, don’t shoot Virgil. Bunch, the second two are as high on the bank as you are, you’re behind them, they’re moving toward the cabin… Virgil, you should see them anytime.”
Virgil sensed movement in front of him, thumbed the radio button, said as quietly as he could, “Rudy, I’m gonna yell. Your guys may move.”
“I think they heard you-they stopped,” Raines said in Virgil’s ear. “Christ, they’re not more than twenty-five yards away.”
From out in front of him, a woman’s voice said quietly, “Virgil?”
Virgil eased a little lower down the slope of the gully, thumbed the radio button so everybody could hear him, and said, “Mai-we’re looking at you on thermal imaging equipment, and on visual cameras up in the trees. We can see all of you. We’ve got you boxed, and there are a lot more of us than there are of you. Give it up or we’ll kill you.”
There was a heavy thud as something hit the far side of Virgil’s tree, and Virgil realized in an instant what it was, and flopped down the bank and covered his eyes and the grenade went with a flash and a deafening blast, and a machine gun started up the hill and Virgil thought, Rudy, and he rolled up and a burst of automatic-weapon fire seemed to explode over his head, coming from where Jarlait should have been, and he heard somebody scream and then there was a sudden silence and he could hear Raines talking: “Rudy, he’s up above you, circling around you, back up if you can, back up, you see him, you see him?”
More gunfire, and then Bunch shouted, “I got him, but I’m hit, I’m hit, ah, Jesus, I’m hit…”
Raines said, “Virgil, you’ve got one not moving in front of you, one moving away.”
Jarlait: “I got the one in front of Virgil, I had him dead in my sights.”
Raines: “We got one moving down to the water, Jarlait, if you move sideways down to the water you might be able to see them, you might have to move forward… Virgil, you can move forward… Paul, can you and your guys get to Rudy? Can you get to Rudy?”
Queenen said, “I can hear him, but where’s the other guy, is he still there?”
“He’s not moving, he may be down, I’m going to illuminate with the IR… okay, I can see him, he looks like he’s down, he’s on his back, if you go straight ahead you should get to Rudy… Rudy, I can see Rudy waving… Rudy, the guy above you is moving, but not much. He’s crawling, I think, can you see him?”
And Queenen said, “Is Rudy moving? Is Rudy crawling, I can see a guy crawling-” Rudy shouted, “No,” in the open, and Queenen opened up, ten fast shots, and Raines, his voice still cool, said, “I think you rolled him.”
JARLAIT SHOUTED, in the open, “I can’t see them.”
Virgil moved. The light was coming up fast, and he went forward, and Raines said in his ear, “Virgil, I can’t tell if the guy in front of you is down, but he’s not moving at all. The other one is down at the water.”
Virgil moved again, fast dodging moves from tree to tree. Raines called, “You’re right on top of him, he’s just downhill.”
Virgil saw the body: Phem, with a rifle. He was lying on his back, looking sightlessly at the brightening sky, the last he would ever have seen; his chest had been torn to pieces.
Virgil could hear Mai’s voice, calling out to somebody, the tone urgent, well ahead, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. Vietnamese?
Queenen: “Okay, the first guy’s dead… Larry, watch me, I’m moving over to the left, you see me? Watch right up the hill there… I’m gonna make a move here.”
A few seconds, then Queenen: “Okay, the second guy is dead. Rudy, where are you?”
Raines called: “They’re moving, they’re on the water… they’re moving fast…”
Virgil heard somebody crashing along the riverbank, assumed it was Jarlait, and then a long burst of automatic-weapon fire, interspersed with tracers, chewed up the riverbank and cut back into the woods and he went down.
Raines: “Louis, are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Jesus, they almost shot me.” His breath was hoarse through the walkie-talkie; another old guy.
Another long burst, then another, and Virgil realized that somebody-Mai? -was loading magazines and hosing down the woods as thoroughly as possible, keeping them stepping and jiving until they could get down the river, in the boat, to wherever their vehicle was.
He left Phem and hurried forward through the trees, crashing around, knowing he was noisy, and another burst slashed and ricocheted around him, and he went down again, and somebody shouted, “Man,” and then, on the radio, “That last one… I’m bleeding, but I don’t think it’s too bad.”
Virgil thought, Shit, turned back to help out, then heard Jarlait yell to the wounded man, “I see you. I’m coming your way, don’t shoot me, I’m coming your way.”
Virgil turned and jogged through the woods, fifty yards, a hundred yards, Raines calling into his ear, “I’m gonna lose you in a minute, Virgil, they’re already off my screens… I’m losing you…”
Virgil ran another fifty yards, to a muddy little point, risked a move to the water. The morning fog hung two or three feet deep over the water, wisps here and there, and Virgil saw only a flash of them, three or four hundred yards away, heading into the Canadian side, around another bend in the river; they disappeared in a quarter second, behind a screen of willows. No sound-they were using a trolling motor. He put his aim point a foot high, where he thought they’d gone, and dumped the whole magazine at them. When he ran dry, he kicked the empty mag out, jammed in another, and dumped thirty more rounds into the trees about where the boat should have been.
He thumbed the radio and shouted, “I’m coming back, watch me, I’m running back.”
When he got back to the house, Jarlait was there, standing over McDonald, as one of the trucks backed across the yard toward them. Jarlait looked at Virgil and said, “Rudy’s hit in the back. He’s hurt. This guy’s got a bad cut on his scalp, but not too bad. Needs some stitches.”
VIRGIL SAID, “So what are you up to?”
“What?”
He nodded down to a canoe, rolled up on the bank. “There’s a chance I hit them, or one of them. I’m going after them.”
“Let’s go,” Jarlait said. “Fuckin’ Vietcong.”