the Last Run (1987) (8 page)

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Authors: Leonard B Scott

BOOK: the Last Run (1987)
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And about priorities .... I have here a memo signed by the general that says the highest priority of this Corps is intelligence gathering.'' Ellis stared at Rite.4 4That means my Rangers. I think you'd better make the call to the 173rd. They're waiting to hear from you."

Rite felt like throwing the heavy ashtray on his desk into Ellis's smug face, but he took in several quick breaths to restrain his anger and not show his emotions. His authority had been usurped, but he knew Ellis had him by the balls. He, Rite, had consciously ignored the replacement policy of the Rangers, and if Ellis brought the situation to the general's attention, there would be one personnel officer out on his ass-especially after the general had made that statement about high priorities. Shit, there was nothing to do but play ball and hope to regain strength in another inning.

Rite softened his expression and raised his brow in conciliation. "Sure Bob, I'll call them today and send the message first thing tomorrow. The general will want to sign it himself, won't he?"

Ellis stood up. "Of course. Just have it on my desk by 0700, and I'll see to it. Thank you, Charles. I knew you'd appreciate the situation and take positive action. I'm sure the general will appreciate it, too."

"I'm here to help," said Rite, burning holes into Ellis's back as he walked out the door.

Colonel Ellis glanced down at the blank piece of paper in his hand and smiled as he passed by the secretary.

Phan Thiet Third Platoon Base Camp

The base camp was in turmoil. Sergeant Gino had people running around and packing gear everywhere, trying to meet the earlier flights. Team 3-1 was still scheduled to fly out on the first bird, so they had to get their gear to the airfield as soon as possible.

Thumper had called the hospital to tell Wade about the move, but he'd already been flown out by med-evac to Bien Hoa Air Base. The orderly had promised to pass on the information as soon as Wade returned die following day.

Thumper finished packing Wade's gear, hefted the bags to his shoulder, and began die 300-meter walk to the airfield. He didn't feel the weight of the heavy bags. His mind was on the all too familiar base at An Khe. The thought of returning there brought back many painful memories.

He'd said good-bye too many times in An Khe. Grady, his first team sergeant and close friend, had rotated home from there. Mary Ann, a Red Cross worker who had lived in a compound close by, had said good-bye there, too.

Mary Ann, especially, had taken a piece of his heart when she transferred to Saigon. She was a woman he could have held onto for a lifetime. Since then she had written many letters, but somehow he couldn't put feelings on paper to reciprocate. He sat for hours thinking of her, but he couldn't bring himself to write a single line. Finally, about a month ago, her letters stopped coming. He shut his eyes to stop the emotions that made his knees feel weak. He missed the tall, raven-haired woman who had made him feel so good, and he missed the old team he loved. Of Team 2-2, three had been wounded in Cambodia, and two had rotated home. That left him, the last original member.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath for strength. When he'd been moved to Matt's team three months ago, he had found a new home, and Russian, Rose, and Matt had taken the place of the others, but his old friends would always have a special place in his heart.

Thumper tossed Wade's bags onto a pallet and returned to the tent. He quickly stuffed his belongings into two duffel bags and began to walk back to the airfield. Sergeant Gino saw him and yelled for him to come to the TOC.

Thumper cussed under his breath and walked toward the sergeant, who still sat on his folding chair directing the load-out.

Rose lay back on his rucksack behind a tent, hiding from the watchful eye of Gino. He had just dozed off when a powerful, hairy arm clamped around his neck and jerked him up. Russian pushed him away, causing him to fall over his rucksack. Rose rolled to the ground and sprang to his feet to meet his attacker.

"You do not follow my orders," Russian growled. "You make me a fool."

Rose immediately lowered his fists and began backing away from the approaching huge soldier.

"No man, I was just . . . No, Russian, shit, man, back off. I ... I ..." He spun around and ran screaming, "Thumper!" . . . Thum-per!"

Thumper stood up at the sound of the bloodcurdling scream and smiled as Rose ran straight for him. Russian, followed by his dog, chased Rose at a slow lope.

Rose skidded to a halt behind Thumper and Gino, and pointed excitedly toward the advancing bull.

"He . . . he's gonna kill me!"

Thumper sat back down and shook his head. "I told you he was pissed."

Russian halted a few paces in front of Thumper and glared at Rose.

"I teach the crazy one a lesson."

Thumper sighed. "Carl, I understand how you feel, but we'd just be another man short. Besides, Sergeant Gino here needs a detail man to load out equipment."

Rose whined, "Aw, shit, Thump."

Thumper ignored the remark. "Why don't you and Bitch go on down to the airfield," he said to Russian. "We'll be in An Khe in a little while, and we'll get to chose our bunks while lover- boy is still working. He won't be in until this evening."

Russian grunted and lowered his eyes to Thumper. "He will not work. He just talk."

Gino stood up, offended. "The hell he will! I'll make him sweat!"

Satisfied, Russian threw one last cutting stare at Rose, then went to the tent to collect his equipment.

Rose fell to his knees with a pained expression. "Damn, Thump, you can't do this to me, man."

"You're staying, or I'll let Russian have you."

"Shit, man, you messin' with me and . . . and I got a slight problem."

Thumper's eyebrows raised slowly. "Yeah?"

"Well, I tried to piss awhile ago and ..."

Thumper shook his head with a sigh. "You'd better get to the medics before they pack up their penicillin. What happened to the stateside rubber?"

"Aw, man, she wanted me now, you know what I mean?"

Thumper, trying to contain his laughter, gave an exaggerated nod and pointed to the medics' tent. "Move out and get your shot. You got work to do!"

Rose got up, mumbling. "I swear, man, you try to help a buddy, and he done gets hos-tile. You try to be nice to a lady, and she gives you the clap. This world is fucked up, man."

Bien Hoa Air Force Base 433rd Wing Hospital

Sergeant Matt Wade had arrived that afternoon at Bien Hoa, wearing a sling. He had his X rays taken, but there were no flights scheduled back to Phan Thiet until the following morning, so he was ordered to a convalescent ward to wait.

As soon as he saw the ward he knew he wasn't going to like it. A short staff seigeant in hospital whites grinned when he noticed the lanky buck sergeant wearing camouflage fatigues and black beret.

"You're just the man I've been looking for," said the ward master as if he was eyeing a new slave. "You're not leaving until tomorrow, so today you're mine. You'll be in charge of getting this ward, and the next one over, cleaned up. You'll have nine men. All are able to walk or push a broom. You'll find mops and brooms at the end of the hall."

Wade glared at the staff sergeant with disgust. "And what will you be doing?"

The ward master smiled smugly as he stood up from his chair. "I'm going to a USO show at the air base-you just gave me the ticket." His smile dissolved into a serious frown. "Don't make any trouble, Sarge, or you'll be doing this for a week. I can have you scheduled for a reexamination based on my observations. That should take at least another day or two, and I can keep doing it until I'm tired of you. Now, you just do the job and you'll be gone tomorrow."

Matt had seen his type before. They were in control of their litde world and could deal misery and woe to their captives. The bastard held all the aces. Matt made a mental note to one day make a special trip back and finish the conversation. He held back his anger and resigned himself to be cool. "Where's the detail?"

The ward master smirked as he walked for the door. "Next door. And Sarge, make these floors shine."

Nha Trang Corps Headquarters

Colonel Ellis stood to the side of General Wayland's desk, pointing to a wall map. "We have confirmed that the Thirty-third and Forty-second NVA regiments are assembling in this mountainous area here. Reports indicate the Thirty-ninth regiment will link up in the next three weeks to form the Second Division."

The gray-haired Corps commander seemed preoccupied and merely glanced at the map. "Colonel, you're wasting my time. You know my orders are pacification. That area you so casually pointed to is over one hundred square kilometers. It would take three divisions to find them. And if we did find them, Washington would never accept our casualities."

Colonel Ellis pressed. "We don't need three divisions, General. The Rangers will find them for us, like they found the base camps in Cambodia. The Rangers can pinpoint their main base, and we can send in a B-52 strike to destroy it."

The general's eyes told Ellis he was interested, but not convinced. Now for the icing, thought the colonel.

"Sir, Region Headquarters is aware of this buildup, as is the South Vietnamese government. I think you'll agree they will look very favorably upon this Corps should we reduce this potential threat . . . especially since recent reports indicate that the commander of all Communist forces in South Vietnam, General Binh Ty Due, is co-located with the Second Division."

Wayland leaned forward in his chair and studied the map more closely.

"When would the Rangers go in?"

"Four weeks, sir. We would want the NVA with their base camp fully operational and feeling relatively safe. Plus, we need to bring the Rangers up to full strength. We haven't been taking very good care of them recently."

The general leaned back in his chair, thinking aloud. "You know, we haven't had any positive press since the Cambodia invasion. An operation like this ..." His eyes locked on the G-2. "I approve the plan. You brief me in one week on the details and prepare a briefing for Region Headquarters."

"Yes, sir," Ellis said with satisfaction. He decided to try one more hand. "General, I've already informed Colonel Rite to begin filling the Rangers back up to strength, and I'm moving the Rangers to An Khe where they can begin a rebuilding program. I hope you approve?"

"Yes, of course. Do whatever is necessary."

"Thank you, sir. . . . Oh, I'm sorry, sir, but when you mentioned 'press' I was reminded-I wasn't sure if you knew the Associated Press would be at the awards ceremony this evening?"

The general's eyes lifted immediately. "What ceremony?"

"The Aviation Battalion is awarding several pilots Distinguished Flying Crosses. I thought you were ..."

Wayland suddenly reached over and snatched up his phone. "Get me Rite up here, now!" He slammed down the receiver and looked back at Ellis.

"How'd you hear about this?"

"Sir, the Aviation commander and I are classmates and had dinner last night. I thought you knew about the ceremony or I wouldn't have ..."

Wayland raised his hand, interrupting the G-2. "It's a good thing you did mention it. At least I have one staff officer who understands the power of the press. Thank you and keep up the good woric."

Ellis came to attention, then briskly strode to the door. He'd pulled it off perfectly. He felt like skipping, but kept his measured gait until passing through the aide's office to the hallway.

The portly G-l personnel officer ran up the stairs and called out to him. "What's the general want? Do you know?"

Ellis fought to keep a straight face. "Not really, I just mentioned to him the awards ceremony this evening and. . ."

"Jesus! What ceremony?"

Ellis calmly restated what was said and grinned as the colonel bolted into a nearby office. Ellis chuckled as he strolled down the hallway.

Colonel Rite quickly picked up a telephone and called downstairs to his public affairs officer.

"What's this about an awards ceremony at the Aviation Battalion?"

"Yes, sir, they're awarding two DFCs."

"Was the general invited?"

"Yes, sir, but I checked his calendar and he has a meeting with the Fourth Division commander for dinner so . . ."

"Shit! You should have told me! My god, the press is going to be there! He'd cancel the Fourth's general to. . . shit, never mind, just get in my office, now!"

Rite slammed down the receiver and hurried to the general's office.

The aide looked up from his desk. "He's waiting on you, sir."

Rite opened the door and cringed as the general looked up from his desk. "Goddamn it, Charles! How come I wasn't. . ."

Rite walked out of the general's office five minutes later, red- faced. Goddamn that Ellis. He did this to me, that smart-ass son of a bitch. He came into my office and as much as ordered me to fill the Rangers with experienced men. And now this. This! I'll get you, Ellis. I '11 get you and that prima donna Ranger outfit you think so much of.

Southern Liberation Military Headquarters

Private Nguyen Tran Nuu forgot his weariness and hunger as he stood just inside the entrance of the command tunnel. He and Colonel Sy had completed their long march to headquarters and were waiting for one of the general's staff officers to clear them for entry.

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