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He shot his first American in the back. The man was in the rear of a patrol. He stopped beside a tree for a drink of canteen water. Dai Chim Sao nailed him to the tree with one shot. The noise brought others. He tossed a hand grenade in their startled faces and jumped into the elephant grass. The grenade made only a small pop. But the screaming carried for kilometers.

They never found him. In the long years of the war, he killed and maimed and ran, never staying to fight because everyone knew there was no way to beat the Americans at war. Ambush and run. Kill and hide. Live to fight again.

When victory finally came, Dai Chim Sao was a man. In the closing days of the war he had enlisted in the North Vietnamese Army, quickly rising to the rank of captain. He swore to kill twice as many Americans as before. But the U. S. troops withdrew back to America and suddenly there were no more Americans to slaughter.

Life seemed purposeless after that. There was the new war in Cambodia, but it wasn't the same. When Captain Dai learned that there was an opening for a political officer at a supersecret outpost, he took it. It was a pleasant shock to discover that he would be in charge of a work camp where despised Americans were being held. He worked them very hard, did Captain Dai.

Seated in the back of the Thai jetliner, Captain Dai wondered if he was about to be given another opportunity to kill Americans. He couldn't kill the American POW's. They were valuable barter. But in America, everyone would be fair game. It would be one gigantic free fire zone.

Dai would have liked to start with the traitor Phong. But in a sealed aircraft, suspicion would immediately fall upon him. He had trailed Phong a long way since he'd been discovered missing from the conex container. Dai was obsessed with Phong, a soft southerner who refused to accept indoctrination, refused to bow or kneel or acknowledge the moral superiority of international socialism. When Dai had discovered Phong had escaped, he had beaten the Americans. But they knew nothing. Captain Dai requisitioned a Land Rover and two men and tried to follow Phong's path through the jungle, but a pack of Khmer guerrillas had intercepted them. His soldiers were killed and Captain Dai had been forced to retreat alone.

Reporting to his superior, Vietnam's defense minister, Captain Dai received the first reprimand in a long and glorious career.

"If this Phong reaches a resettlement camp, he will tell the world about the American prisoners," the defense minister had shouted. "We are not prepared for that."

"I will find him," Dai promised stiffly. "Give me time. "

"No. We have spies in the resettlement camps. We will alert our people there. If he reaches any of them, we will be notified."

"Permission to eliminate Phong personally."

"Granted. Do not fail."

The call was not long in coming. But when Captain Dai reached the resettlement camp, he was too late. Phong had been taken away by an American journalist. He shook the spy furiously. "How long ago?"

"Two, three hours ago. They are flying to America."

"Which flight? When?"

"I do not know. But the American journalist is a woman. Big, black, and built like a water buffalo." Dai had bribed his way onto the Thai plane, and sat in the rearmost row. He was halfway across the Pacific before he realized he had no plan. He had no weapon. Only a forged passport identifying him as a Thai businessman.

Dai had nothing, but he would find a way.

Dai's opportunity came when the plane landed at Los Angeles International Airport.

The big black woman named Copra Inisfree and the hated Phong were the first ones off the plane. The other passengers were made to wait. Dai sneered at the obvious example of American privilege trampling on the rights of others, but the sneer hid worry. What if he lost them in the crowds?

Inside the terminal, Dai realized that that was a silly fear. There was no mistaking the black woman for another. She moved through the terminal surrounded by an entourage of lackeys like a water bug skating across a pond and trailing scum.

Dai followed them to a hangerlike building where hundreds of people milled impatiently around a huge baggage carousel. Dai had no baggage, but he waited anyway.

He spotted Phong squatting on the floor like the peasant he was. Everyone else stood. A few sat on luggage. Phong squatted as if afraid, his eyes shifting nervously.

That would make killing him easier.

Captain Dai slid into the bustling crowds. People, seeing his hard face, instinctively stepped aside. His eyes were mean. No amount of concentration could take that away from him. He drifted closer to his intended victim.

Strangling Phong was out of the question. Too slow. Dai would be stopped. A knife would be best. But he had no knife. There were many blows that killed, but they weren't always certain. Now only three men separated Dai from his intended victim. And still he had no plan.

A ripple of excited chatter went through the throng of people. Dai turned to see what was happening. The first bags were tumbling down the baggage chute. The crowd became a crush. A woman pushed past him and Dai snarled at her indifferent back. Then a smile twisted his pocked face. Her big shoulder bag hung in his face, with a hard metal pen protruding from a slide pocket. It made him think of the body of one of his guards, found dead with a pen such as that plunged into his breastbone.

Yes, a pen would do. Captain Dai eased the pen from the pocket and clicked the point home. A good, strong pen. It would go deep into Phong's soft skin.

Captain Dai shied away from the baggage carousel and sidled up behind Phong, who still squatted away from the others. He had no baggage either. He wouldn't need any where he was going, Dai thought with pleasure.

Captain Dai didn't hesitate. He strode up to Phong from behind and took him by his coarse hair. He snapped his head back and let Phong see his face as his final view of life. Then he brought the pen down toward the man's exposed throat.

In Vietnamese he said, "Now you will die, enemy of the people!"

Phong felt his head snap back. And he saw that face, deeply pocked, eyes black and ablaze. He reached back and grabbed Captain Dai by the back of his knees. Phong squeezed with all his wirelike strength. Captain Dai's knees buckled. He fell awkwardly.

"Help! Help!" Phong cried, grabbing for the pen. He struggled as Dai's hand reached to clamp his mouth shut. Phong took three fingers in his mouth, biting deeply. Dai yelled. The pen slipped from his other hand.

Phong took the pen and raked the man across the eyes. A heavy foot shot up and slammed Phong's jaw shut. He bit his own tongue and felt his mouth fill with blood. He couldn't yell. No one was paying attention to him.

Phong pulled away, sliding along the slick floor like a snake. Captain Dai clutched at his eyes. He stumbled to his feet, lurching blindly for the bank of glass exit doors. He groped for a handle and pushed through, thinking that Phong was not so soft after all.

Phong tried to yell, but his bitten tongue was swelling in his mouth. He couldn't even whisper. He ran for his benefactor, Copra Inisfree, but she was lost in the crowd of airline passengers.

When Phong finally clawed his way to her, he clutched at her oaklike legs.

"Hey, Phong, take it easy," Copra Inisfree boomed. "I know you're grateful to be here in the U. S. of A., but there's no reason to get all worshipful. Though I admire your taste in idols. Hah!"

Phong tugged at the hem of her skirt. He opened his mouth to speak. He was pointing toward the exit doors. Blood poured from his mouth and ran down his chin. The only sounds he made were bubbly gurgles.