Page 100 of Cry Havoc
“Have a good one,” the man said, turning away with his partner, homing in on another briefcase.
Desmond exited the building and began his walk across the parking lot, the Hartmann attaché case feeling heavier than normal in his right hand. He was sweating profusely by the time he got to his Ford Galaxie, not because of the distance he had to walk to get to his vehicle but because of the thought that at any moment he would be thrown to the ground by men with guns.
He set the case down, fighting the urge to turn around, picturing a legion of security officers sprinting toward him. He fumbled with his keys and managed to open the door without being tackled and put in handcuffs. He slid inside and placed the attaché case on the passenger seat, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Only then did his hand confirm that the rotor reader was still in his coat pocket. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, started the car, and drove through the parking lot onto Savage Road.
Desmond focused on not exceeding the speed limit as he drove past the gate.
He had made it. He was free, though somehow, he did not feel that way.
As he made his way to I-295, his eyes kept going to the rearview mirror wondering if every car behind him was full of men in dark suits.
CHAPTER 32
Saigon, Vietnam
TOM HAD JUST OPENEDhis eyes and was staring up at the ceiling fan. He was lying in his bed in room 214 of the Continental Palace, the chirping birds outside his balcony having just roused him from a deep slumber. It had been two days since his dinner at the DuBois plantation and he had thought of little else in the interim.
His tranquility was interrupted by a ringing phone. It was Ella. She was calling from the lobby.
Tom slipped into his only other pair of pants—light khakis—and Top-Siders. His black polo shirt barely covered the Browning but would have to do. He lifted his arm and smelled his armpit. Not great. He removed the shirt and went to the bathroom, running the water in the sink and splashing it under his arms, on his face, and through his hair. Better. He needed to do a wash or go shopping for additional clothes, probably both.
He then put the polo back on, slipped the Finnish butterfly knife into his pocket, and grabbed his Wayfarers and cigarettes before making his way to the lobby.
He caught sight of Ella from the stairs. She wore a turquoise sundress that stopped well above her knees. A tan belt with a round gold clasp wastightened around her slim waist. Two bracelets were on her left wrist, one of leather and the other of small seashells. A beige ribbon was in her black hair, which was let down and fell just below her bare shoulders. The same green amulet hung from her neck. She took his breath away.
“I hope you don’t mind. I’m an early riser,” she said in French.
“I’ve been up for hours,” Tom replied.
“I can see that,” she said with a laugh. She reached up to indicate he had something in the corner of his eye.
Tom brushed away the morning crust and smiled.
“Did I say hours? I meant minutes. Are you hungry?”
“I ate earlier, but I will join you for tea. They do a wonderful breakfast here.”
They were escorted to a table in the courtyard respectfully distanced from their neighbors. Tom ordered a tea for Ella and a coffee for himself. Warm freshly baked French bread was brought to the table along with an assortment of pastries. Tom’s coffee tasted like mud.
“Well, what did you think of our dinner?” Ella asked, bringing the hot tea to her lips.
“The meal was incredible. The company even better.”
“I agree. I’ve always had a thing for Nick.”
Tom’s mouth dropped open.
“Just kidding. Got you.”
Tom laughed. Relieved.
“What are you doing here, Tom? And I don’t believe your last name is Smith. After the rooftop rescue and our dinner, I am fairly certain I know what Nick Serrano does. I am not a fool.”
Tom decided on the honest approach.
“It’s Reece. Tom Reece. To tell you the truth, I don’t fully know what I’m doing here. I work up north, attached to a military unit up there. Happened to be in Saigon during Tet. Your father asked me to dinner through Serrano so here we are.”
She studied him intently. He sensed that she decided he was telling enough of the truth.
