Page 108 of Cry Havoc
He sat on a bench at the edge of the Da Kao Bridge. It gave him a perfect vantage point from which to observe the two targets in the Vieux Moulin restaurant. When they got up to leave, he made a notation in the paper he had been pretending to read in the lights of the brightly lit bridge. He couldn’t imagine they would go anywhere other than the Continental Palace, and as he followed behind their rickshaw, he soon saw that he was right. As they disappeared from view into the ground-level bar, he made another notation in his newspaper, walked to his scooter, and rode home.
CHAPTER 35
THE PHONE IN TOM’Sroom rang not long after Ella left for the day.
“You awake?” Serrano’s voice echoed through the line.
“Of course. Been up for hours.”
“Good. Meet me at Givral.”
Tom rolled out of bed and picked up his Submariner on the nightstand. At some point he would need to get the stainless-steel bracelet put on at a jeweler.
It was 7:30 a.m.
He quickly showered and slid into his jeans, Top-Siders, and green button-up safari shirt to better conceal the Browning. He then made his way downstairs, through the lobby, and across the street to the café where Serrano was waiting.
“Coffee, just black, right?” Serrano asked, pointing to the mug opposite him at the small round table.
Tom looked at Serrano’s cup, which was clearly doctored with cream and honey.
“That’s right,” Tom replied.
“Thought so.”
“Who’s with An today?” Tom asked, indicating a table in the far corner where Pham Xuan An sat with a man wearing a safari jacket. A long cigarette was hanging from the right corner of the man’s mouth, its ashin danger of losing its fight with gravity at any moment. He was leaning forward, intensely taking notes in a worn leather journal, an Accurist Shockmaster timepiece on a tan crocodile strap peeking from under his cuff. An’s German Shepherd sat obediently by his master’s side.
“That’s Jean Lartéguy. He was with 1st Commando Group in World War Two. He’s now an author and war correspondent withParis Match. Wrote an article called ‘Les Guerilleros’ last summer. I’ll get you a copy. Last I heard he was in Latin America but looks like he has the scoop on a story here now. He met with Che Guevara just before he was killed in Bolivia in October. WroteThe CenturionsandThe Praetorians. Have you read them?”
“No.”
“You should. You will find them useful if you stay in this line of work.”
“I’ll add them to my list.”
“How’s it going with Ella?” Serrano asked, getting back to business.
“I don’t know. She either loves me or hates me. If I were her, I might hate me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that she considers both Vietnam and France home. She sees the result of our involvement here firsthand. She thinks we are tearing her country apart.”
“She actually wants us to leave and give Vietnam to the communists?”
“I think she would say that they made their choice and voted for Ho in 1946, so we are just prolonging the inevitable.”
Tom lit a Marlboro and inhaled deeply.
“You should definitely readThe Centurions,” Serrano said, nodding toward Lartéguy. “Any indication of when she might take over for her father?”
“Could be today. Could be five years from now. She doesn’t really know. She is focused on being as prepared as she can be.”
“Where does she stand?”
“I think she’s a pragmatist. All she has known is war, first with the French and now with us. She had a reprieve at a boarding school in France and then college. I think she was hurt in a relationship with an older guy. I get the impression it might have been a professor or someone in that orbit.”
“If she takes over, do you think we can pull her into ours?”
