“Yes.”
“I was feeling awful about everything… I had a sudden case of homesickness, and I think it was you that brought that on in some way… and I was also thinking ahead to… to what I had to do… I had trouble lying to you from the minute I met you…”
“I know. I could see that.”
“Could you? Good.”
“Let’s forget that part of the trip. Interesting as it was.”
She laughed, then got a little misty and said again, “I’m not going to cry. You don’t like that.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject. “Maybe your friends in Langley can use your knowledge of Vietnamese there.” And it’s not far from Falls Church.
She shook her head. “I think I’ve lost that job, too.”
“You did a good job. You’re a natural.”
She ignored that and asked, “How about you? What are you going to do?”
“Well… as I said… I need to take care of some personal business… see how that stands…”
She nodded. “You need to do that.”
I didn’t reply.
“Then what?”
“I think that depends on my mission report.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do about that?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe I don’t have to do anything. Maybe I won’t be able to do anything.”
“Just be careful, Paul. I mean really careful.”
“I know.”
“You say you know, but from what I saw, Mr. Brenner, you have more balls than brains.”
I smiled. “Sometimes that’s enough.”
“For here, but not for Washington.” She looked at me. “I’m still on your side. And available.”
“I’ll let you know.”
She informed me, “I’m going to speak to Karl. He needs to get on the right side.”
“Karl disappointed me. But I guess when your lifelong dream is in your grasp, you’ll do almost anything.”
She looked into my eyes. “But you have to be able to live with yourself afterward. Sometimes you just have to wait to see if your hopes and dreams come true… like the fairy on Nui Co Tien Mountain.”
“That didn’t end too well.”
“It did. She waited for her lover, and he returned as soon as he was able… now, they’re together for eternity.”
“Yeah… look… Susan…”
A young Viet guy came through the white door with a piece of cardboard on which was written Brenner Paul. Susan said, “Well, Mr. Paul, you are being paged.”
“Yeah…” I tried a smile. “Well, Ms. Susan…”
She said, “I am not going to cry.” She took a deep breath. “Take care of yourself. Have a good flight, and…” Tears started to form in her eyes.
I put my arms around her, and we kissed. I said, “Susan… I need to do this clean.”
“I know. This was too intense. We need a few months to see…”
The guy with the sign was holding it up, and he was looking at me anxiously. One of the embassy security guys was signaling me to wrap it up.
Susan said something to the young Viet, then said to me, “Don’t miss your freedom flight, soldier.”
We hugged again and kissed. She said, “Call me… whenever.”
“I will. Maybe in a few weeks.”
“Whenever. You have to go.”
“Okay…” I moved toward the open door, and Susan didn’t come with me. I turned back to her and asked, “Lenox?”
“Yes. I’ll wait for your call.”
“Wait for a knock on the door.”
She smiled.
I turned and followed the young man through the door.
We descended a flight of stairs, got into an open electric cart, and drove toward the boarding gate and the aircraft.
A yellow police jeep was parked near the aircraft, and as we approached, a man in uniform stepped out of the jeep. It was, unfortunately, Colonel Mang.
He put up his hand, and the driver stopped.
I didn’t get out, and I sat there waiting for Nguyen Qui Mang, Colonel, Section A of the Ministry of Public Security. He wore his sidearm, which didn’t bother me; it was mine if I wanted it. But he also carried his attaché case, which always makes me more nervous than a gun.
Behind the approaching Colonel Mang was my Air France 747 with the stairs still in place, and I could see that the last passengers were boarding. A gate agent stood nearby looking at his watch.
Colonel Mang stopped beside the cart and asked me, “Where are you going, Mr. Brenner?”
“I’m going home, Colonel. You should do the same.”
“Yes? And how was your diplomatic reception? Did you meet your Vice President?”
“I did.”
“And was he delighted to make your acquaintance?”
“He was. We swapped war stories.”
I could see that the ground crew was about to roll away the stairs. I said, “I’d love to chat awhile, but I’m going to miss my flight. So if you’ll excuse me.”
“I have instructed them to wait for you.”
“It doesn’t look that way.”
“Where is Miss Weber?”
“She’s staying awhile. She likes it here.”
“Yes? And you? Do you like it here?”
“I have mixed emotions.”
“Ah. And was your parting with Miss Weber a sad one?”
“It was not as happy as our parting is going to be. And by the way, the lady would like her film back.”
“Perhaps. I first need to see the photographs you took.”
“Speaking of which, if you send those photographs of Pyramide Island to one more person, you will be sorry you did.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m telling you.”
“Did Mr. Stanley not enjoy the photographs?”
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a response, and I said, “Okay, thanks for seeing me off. Gotta go.”
“In a moment. So, do you think this man Blake will be your new president?”
I answered his question with a question. “What do you think?”
“I had an interesting conversation with Tran Van Vinh last night. I must think about this.”
“You do that.” I could see the ground crew looking my way.
Mang said to me, “You have a diplomatic pass, and you have not even mentioned it.”
“I don’t need anything but a ticket to get on that plane.”
“Perhaps you enjoy my company.”
“No, I don’t. But I find you interesting.”
We looked at each other, and for the first time since I’d had the misfortune of making his acquaintance, I saw no malice in his eyes. He said, “I have something for you.” He reached into his attaché case and handed me the snow globe. I took it and looked at the snow falling on the Wall.
He said, “Your other personal effects will be returned through your embassy. I do not take what is not mine.”
I didn’t reply.
He said to me, “You and I, Mr. Brenner, will never be friends, but I will tell you that I respect your courage. So, for that reason only, I wish you a safe trip home.”
I handed the globe back to him and said, “Something to remember me by.”
“That is very thoughtful. And will I see you again?”
“You should hope not.”
“And you as well.”
“Go easy on this country, Colonel. The people have suffered enough.”
He didn’t reply and said something to the driver, who accelerated off toward the aircraft.
As we reached the stairs, I glanced back over my shoulder, but Colonel Mang was gone.
I looked off into the distance at the white door of the diplomatic lounge and saw Susan in the jade green dress watching me. She waved, and I waved in return.
Vietnam, third tour, had ended, and once again, I was going home sitting up.
I climbed the stairs to the aircraft and at the top, a flight attendant took my ticket, looked at it, and said in a nice French accent, “Ah, Mr. Brenner, we have been waiting for you.”