璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第137部分

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et　or　ville。　So　he‘d　e　in　alone；　very；　very　carefully　moving　up　the　stinking　water　of　this　…　well；　the　map　called　it　a　river；　but　it　wasn‘t　quite　large　enough　for　Kelly　to　think　of　it　that　way。
And；　of　course；　this　is　the　ville　they‘d　e　to；　the　fuckers。
PLASTIC　FLOWER；　he　thought；　watching　and　listening。　Who　the　hell　came　up　with　that　name？
PLASTIC　FLOWER　was　the　code　name　for　an　NVA　political…action　team　or　whatever　they　called　it。　His　team　had　several　other　names；　none　of　them　plimentary。　Certainly　they　weren‘t　the　precinct　workers　he‘d　seen　on　election　day　in　Indianapolis。　Not　these　people；　schooled　in　Hanoi　on　how　to　win　hearts　and　minds。
The　ville‘s　headman；　chief；　mayor；　whatever　the　hell　he　was；　was　just　a　little　too　courageous　to　be　called　anything　but　a　fool。　He　was　paying　for　that　foolishness　before　the　distant　eyes　of　Bosun‘s　Mate　1/c　J。T。　Kelly；　The　team　had　arrived　at　oh…one…thirty；　and　in　a　very　orderly　and　almost　civilized　way；　entered　every　little　hooch；　awakening　the　whole　population　of　farmers；　bringing　them　into　the　mon　area　to　see　the　misguided　hero；　and　his　wife；　and　his　three　daughters；　all　waiting　for　them；　sitting　in　the　dirt；　their　arms　cruelly　tied　behind　their　backs。　The　NVA　major　who　led　PLASTIC　FLOWER　invited　them　all　to　sit　in　a　mannerly　voice　that　reached　Kelly‘s　observation　point；　less　than　two　hundred　meters　away。　The　ville　needed　a　lesson　in　the　foolishness　of　resistance　to　the　people‘s　liberation　movement。　It　was　not　that　they　were　bad　people；　just　misguided；　and　he　hoped　that　this　simple　lesson　would　make　clear　to　them　the　error　of　their　ways。
They　started　with　the　man‘s　wife。　That　took　twenty　minutes；
I　have　to　do　something！　he　told　himself。
There‘s　eleven　of　them；　idiot。　And　while　the　Major　might　be　a　sadistic　motherfucker；　the　ten　soldiers　with　him　had　not　been　selected　exclusively　for　their　political　correctness。　They　would　be　reliable；　experienced；　and　dedicated　soldiers。　How　a　man　could　be　dedicated　to　such　things　as　this；　Kelly　didn‘t　have　the　imagination　to　understand。　That　they　were　was　a　fact　that　he　could　not　afford　to　ignore。
Where　was　the　fucking　reaction　team？　He‘d　called　in　forty　minutes　earlier；　and　the　support　base　was　only　twenty　minutes　off　by　chopper。　They　wanted　this　Major。
His　team　might　also　be　useful；　but　they　wanted　the　Major　alive。　He　knew　the　location　of　the　local　political　leaders；　those　the　Marines　hadn‘t　swept　up　in　a　superb　raid　six　weeks　earlier。　This　mission　was　probably　a　reaction　to　that；　a　deliberate　response　so　close　to　the　American　base；　to　say　that；　no；　you　hadn‘t　gotten　us　all　yet；　and　you　never　will。
And　they　were　probably　right；　Kelly　thought；　but　that　question　went　far　beyond　the　mission　for　tonight。
The　oldest　daughter　was　maybe　fifteen。　It　was　hard　to　tell　with　the　small；　deceptively　delicate　Vietnamese　women。　She‘d　lasted　all　of　twenty…five　minutes　and　was　not　yet　dead。　Her　screams　carried　dearly　across　the　flat；　open　ground　to　Kelly‘s　watery　post；　and　his　hands　squeezed　the　plastic　of　his　CAR…15　so　hard　that　had　he　thought　or　noticed；　he　might　have　worried　about　breaking　something。
The　ten　soldiers　with　the　Major　were　deployed　as　they　should　be。　Two　men　were　with　the　Major；　and　they　rotated　duty　with　the　perimeter　guards　so　that　all　of　them　could　partake　in　the　evening‘s　festivities。　One　of　them　finished　the　girl　with　a　knife。　The　next　daughter　was　perhaps　twelve。
Kelly‘s　ears　scanned　the　cloudy　sky；　praying　to　hear　the　distinctive　mutter　of　a　Huey‘s　two…bladed　rotor。　There　were　other　sounds。　The　rumble　of　155s　from　the　marine　fire　base　to　the　east。　Some　jets　screaming　overhead。　None　were　loud　enough　to　mask　the　high…pitched　screech　of　a　child；　but　there　were　still　eleven　of　them；　and　only　one　of　him；　and　even　if　Pickett　had　been　here；　the　odds　would　not　have　been　remotely　close　enough　to　try　a　play。　Kelly　had　his　CAR…15　carbine；　a　thirty…round　magazine　securely　fixed　in　its　place；　another　taped；　inverted；　to　the　end　of　that　one；　and　two　more　similar　sets。　He　had　four　fragmentation　grenades；　two　willie…petes；　and　two　smokes。　His　deadliest　appliance　was　his　radio；　but　he‘d　already　called　out　twice　and　gotten　an　acknowledgment　both　times；　along　with　orders　to　sit　tight。
Easy　thing　to　say　back　at　the　base；　wasn‘t　it？
Twelve　years　old；　maybe。　Too　young　for　this。　There　was　no　age　for　this；　he　told　himself；　but　he‘d　never　be　able　to　change　things　alone；　and　there　was　no　good　for　anyone　in　adding　his　death　to　those　of　this　family。
How　could　they　do　it？　Were　they　not　men；　soldiers；　professional　warriors　like　himself？　Could　anything　be　so　important　that　they　could　cast　aside　their　humanity？　What　he　saw　was　impossible。　It　could　not　be。　But　it　was。　The　rumbles　of　the　distant　artillery　continued；　dropping　planned　fire…missions　on　a　suspected　supply　route。　A　continuous　stream　of　aircraft　overhead；　maybe　Marine　intruders　doing　a　Mini…Arc　Light　strike　at　something　or　other；　probably　empty　woods；　because　most　of　those　targets　were　just　that。　Not　here；　where　the　enemy　was；　but　that　wouldn‘t　help　anything；　would　it？　These　villagers　had　bet　their　lives　and　their　families　on　something　that　wasn‘t　working；　and　maybe　that　Major　thought　he　was　being　merciful　in　just　eliminating　one　family　in　the　most　graphic　method　possible　instead　of　ending　all　their　lives　in　a　more　efficient　way。　Besides；　dead　men　told　no　tales；　and　this　was　a　tale　he　would　want　repeated。　Terror　was　something　they　could　use；　and　use　well。
Time　crept　on；　slowly　and　rapidly；　and　presently　the　twelve…year…old　stopped　making　noise　and　was　cast　aside。　The　third　and　final　daughter　was　eight；　he　saw　through　his　binoculars。　The　arrogance　of　the　fuckers；　building　a　large　fire。　They　couldn‘t　have　anyone　miss　this；　could　they？
Eight　years　old；　not　even　old　enough；　not　a　throat　large　enough　for　a　proper　scream。　He　watched　the　changing　of　the　guard。　Two　more　men　moved　from　the　perimeter　into　the　center　of　the　ville。　R&；R　for　the　political…action　group；　who　couldn‘t　go　to　Taiwan　as　Kelly　had。　The　man　nearest　to　Kelly　hadn‘t　had　his　chance　yet；　probably　wouldn‘t。　The　headman　didn‘t　have　enough　daughters；　or　maybe　this　one　was　on　the　Major‘s　shit　list。　Whatever　the　real　reason；　he　wasn‘t　getting　any；　and　it　must　have　frustrated　him。　The　soldier‘s　eyes　were　looking　in　now；　watching　his　squadmates　partake　in　something　that　he　would　miss　tonight。　Maybe　next　time　。。。　but　at　least　he　could　watch。。。　and　he　did；　Kelly　saw；　forgetting　his　duty　for　the　first　time　tonight。
Kelly　was　halfway　there　before　his　mind　remarked　on　the　fact；　crawling　as　rapidly　as　he　could　in　silence；　helped　by　the　moist　ground。　A　low　crawl；　his　body　as　flat　as　he　could　manage；　closer；　closer；　both　driven　and　drawn　by　the　whine　that　emanated　from　near　the　fire。　Should　have　done　it　sooner；　Johnnie…boy。
It　wasn‘t　possible　then。
Well；　fuck；　it　isn‘t　possible　now！
It　was　then　that　fate　intervened　in　the　sound　of　a　Huey；　probably　more　than　one；　off　to　the　southeast。　Kelly　heard　it　first；　rising　carefully　behind　the　soldier；　his　knife　drawn。　They　still　hadn‘t　heard　it　when　he　struck；　driving　his　knife　into　the　base　of　the　man‘s　skull；　where　the　spinal　cord　meets　the　base　of　the　brain　…　the　medulla；　someone　had　told　him　in　a　lecture。　He　twisted　it；　almost　like　a　screwdriver；　his　other　hand　across　the　soldier‘s　mouth；　and；　sure　enough；　it　worked。　The　body　went　instantly　limp；　and　he　lowered　it　gently；　not　from　any　feelings　of　humanity；　but　to　limit　noise。
But　there　was　noise。　The　choppers　were　too　close　now。　The　Major‘s　head　went　up；　turning　southeast；　recognizing　the　danger。　He　shouted　an　order　for　his　men　to　assemble；　then　turned　and　shot　the　child　in　the　head　just　as　soon　as　one　of　his　privates　moved　off　of　her　and　out　of　the　way。
It　only　took　a　few　seconds　for　the　squad　to　assemble。　The　Major　did　a　quick　and　automatic　head　count；　ing　up　one　short；　and　he　looked　in　Kelly‘s　direction；　but　his　eyes　and　his　vision　had　been　long　since　promised　by　the　fire；　and　the　only　thing　he　did　see　was　some　spectral　movement　in　the　air。
‘One；　two；　three；‘　Kelly　whispered　to　himself　after　pulling　the　cotter　pin　out　of　one　of　his　frags。　The　boys　in　3rd　SOG　cut　their　own　fuses。　You　never　knew　what　the　little　old　lady　in　the　factory　might　do。　Theirs　burned　for　exactly　five　seconds；　and　on　‘three；‘　the　grenade　left　his　hand。　It　was　just　metallic　enough　to　glint　with　the　orange　firelight。　A　nearly　perfect　toss；　it　landed　in　the　exact　center　of　the　ring　of　soldiers。　Kelly　was　already　prone　in　the　dirt　when　it　landed。　He　heard　the　shout　of　alarm　that　was　just　a　second　too　late　to　help　anyone。
The　grenade　killed　or　wounded　seven　of　the　ten　men。　He　stood　with　his　carbine　and　dropped　the　first　one　with　three　rounds　to　the　head。　His　eyes　didn‘t　even　pause　to　see　the　flying　red　cloud；　for　this　was　his　profession；　and　not　a　hobby。　The　Major　was　still　alive；　lying　on　the　ground　but　trying　to　aim　his　pistol　until　his　chest　took　five　more。　His　death　made　the　night　a　success。　Now　all　Kelly　had　to　do　was　survive。　He　had　mitted　himself　to　a　foolish　act；　and　caution　was　his　enemy。
Kelly　ran　to　the　right；　his　carbine　held　high。　There　were　at　least　two　NVA　moving；　armed　and　angry　and　confused　enough　that　they　weren‘t　running　away