Red Flags by Juris Jurjevics Read Free Book Online Page A

fact of life in the military. We were a tiny piece of the machinery. Somebody somewhere up the food chain was betting that our value as a target was offset by the possible cost of taking us down. But it was a safer bet that that officer was never going to spend a single night in Cheo Reo.
    Miser bared his jagged teeth. "Anyone with a decent arm could throw a grenade halfway into this fucking compound, drop satchel charges on us, no problem, and knock out communications. The bungalows and hootches aren't even sandbagged. Mess hall either. Talk about lightly defended."
    "What's the good news?"
    "Gooks can't throw for shit." Miser exhaled loudly. "Still ... we'd be dead meat in minutes if they decided to have themselves the propaganda victory of taking a province capital."
    "Even with our valiant allies bivouacked across the road?"
    "Yeah, right," Miser growled, indignant. "Uncle Ho's birthday is coming around again. I'm not interested in being a goddamn party favor."
    "We better hope we're done here soon. I don't want to spend the monsoon mildewing in Cheo Reo, waiting for Charlie to drop by some stormy night when nothing's flying."
    "How exactly are we supposed to do this little job for Jessup? Maybe we should hop over to Hong Kong and stick up that bank. Probably easier than fucking up their wholesale business from here."
    "If we knew who was growing the stuff and where, or how they're moving it, we could mess with the fields or the growers—or the pipeline."
    Miser shook his head ruefully. "You haven't a goddamn clue how to do this, do you, Captain, sir?"
    "Not yet."
    I left Miser to get acquainted with his men. Checkman, who had stood off at a discreet distance, fell in step as I passed and directed me back along the covered walkway to my new quarters, the third bungalow from the end. He didn't bother knocking, just showed me in.
    "Your roommate is a civilian. He leases a place in town, which is where he mostly stays. He's only in the compound when there's trouble or meetings run late."
    "Agency?"
    "It would be presumptuous of me to say, Captain."
    He had to be the spook-in-residence.
    The room was small. Two metal bunks up against opposite walls. Between them, a desk with two gooseneck lamps and a green Army field phone was pushed against the windowless back wall. A flag with a yellow star in the center of a red field hung above my roommate's bed. A Vietnamese farmer's hat and a forty-two-shot Zephyr automatic rifle with scope sights hung beside it on a peg.
    "What's his name?"
    "Ruchevsky. John Ruchevsky. Big John."
    Checkman left. I emptied my dopp kit of everything but shaving gear and soap, unpacked one set of civvies and shoes, additional fatigues, and an extra pair of jungle boots. At the foot of each bed was an actual bureau. I clamped some socks and underwear to my chest with my chin and opened the top drawer of mine. Inside was a perfect cone of fine wood shavings topped by the metal stem and trimmings of a handmade Montagnard pipe. Somebody's souvenir. Invisible bugs had devoured the wooden bowl, leaving only the aluminum stem and brass ring fittings cut from different calibers of spent bullets.
    I emptied the sawdust out the door onto the grass, tossed my stuff into the top drawer, and slid it back in place. The next drawer down held a large card. The English text addressed
Advisers.
There is a Reward for your capture and death!

Surrender Now and Live! We will pay for your

information on your training.
    As an afterthought it said
This Girl and $10,000.
Dead center was the girl, a sedate brunette in a coy pose.
    "Come on, Charlie," I muttered to myself, "give it a rest."
    I tacked the card over my bed—home sweet home—and went about draping the mosquito netting over the T-frames attached to either end. I shoved my agent's paper ID deep in my left thigh pocket and buttoned it shut. Outside, a spent artillery shell clanged like a gong, announcing chow. Struck repeatedly it would have meant an alert,