Hour of the Assassins by Andrew Kaplan Read Free Book Online Page B

his hut, the monsoon rain clattering on the bamboo roof, the green hills hidden in gray clouds. Caine had been clumsily trying to sew a rip in his pants.
    She stood before him, wearing the black shirt and trousers of the Meo women, a red sash about her slender waist. She wore a black turban and around her neck three heavy silver rings, her dowry. Her skin a light tan, oval eyes dark, and her only really oriental feature was her slightly wide nose. On her feet she wore plastic shower shoes made in Japan. At first he didn’t think of her as being pretty, but later he learned to look at her the way he looked at white women and to see how beautiful she really was. She smiled shyly and said, “I am Lim, lord. My Uncle Chong has given me to you in exchange for the rifle you gave him.”
    Flustered, he dropped his sewing, then picked it up and threw it on his bunk.
    â€œI don’t understand. Tell your Uncle Chong that he doesn’t owe me anything.”
    â€œBut I belong to you, Tan Caine. I am your woman now.”
    â€œPeople don’t belong to people,” he snapped. “Go home to your uncle.”
    â€œPlease,” her voice trembling. “All is yours now,” taking off her silver neck rings and holding them out to him. “I will do everything to please you.”
    â€œChrist,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t take you, Lim. I’m a soldier, an American. Surely there’s some other man, one of your own people.”
    â€œNo, there is no one,” she replied morosely. “Since the war there are few men, many women. If you do not take me, no man will. And besides”—pointing to the bracelet Dao had given him—“you are Hmong now. Or is it because you already own a woman? I have heard that Americans may have only one wife. Is it true?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOnly one wife?” Lim asked, puzzled. “How can a man live with only one woman?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Caine laughed. “We’re not very good at it either.”
    She knelt before him and touched her forehead to his hand.
    â€œI am yours for as long as you want me, Tan Caine. All men have many women and you have none. Please don’t send me away,” she pleaded.
    Touched, he put his hand to her cheek and said softly, “You know that before the monsoon ends, I’ll have to go back to the war.”
    â€œI know, lord.”
    â€œAnd don’t call me lord,” he shouted. “You’re a free woman.”
    â€œYes, lord,” she cried happily, hugging him tightly.
    They made love throughout the long rainy afternoon. Although she lacked the languorous sensuality of the Lao women, her body heaved against his with a dark and primitive intensity. Drowsy with lovemaking and the rain, he fell asleep. Some sound, something woke him suddenly. He grabbed his .45 automatic and stealthily got out of bed. As Lim began to stir, he crept to the door, threw it open, and found himself aiming at a ten-year-old girl sitting motionless under the eaves of the hut. Although her face was without expression, Caine remembered thinking that she was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. She didn’t look at him, but continued staring into the rain. He scooped her up in his left arm and brought her into the hut. Lim was awake, her eyes wide with fear.
    â€œWho is this?” he demanded angrily.
    â€œMy daughter, lord. I was afraid to tell you”—her voice trembling.
    â€œThen tell me now. What’s the matter with her?”
    â€œShe has a great sadness. Her three souls have been stolen by evil tlan and have left her body behind.”
    â€œFine. Now tell me what happened to her,” his eyes blazing.
    â€œI cannot,” she sobbed. “It is a great shame for me.”
    It was Dao who finally told him about it at dinner the next day. Lim had roasted a chicken, and as protocol demanded, Caine offered