Lieutenant Naguchi stepped forward. He was relaxed but he kept his M-16 trained on the cowering villagers. "Mr. Jeffries, I will stand guard here if you wish to conduct an interrogation."
"Interrogation?" said Justin.
"There is an empty hut there, away from the fire," said the lieutenant. "It is best to isolate them during questioning.
"Yeah," said Justin. "I remember. Tom, cut a couple of them out of the herd. Hurry!"
Newton lifted a young main and an old woman by the arm and began moving them toward the hut.
"Not her," said Justin. "Too old. Get that one." He pointed tb a wide-eyed girl of fifteen or sixteen. "She's probably got a brother or boyfriend fighting with the VC."
Newton pushed the old woman back to her knees and roughly lifted the girl to her feet. Justin felt his mouth go dry. Behind him the flames had set a third hut on fire and sparks drifted up to mix with the stars.
Disantis set the ninth plastic saber carefully in a row with the others. "How about ammunition?" he asked.
Minh blinked slowly and smiled. "Three thousand rounds for the rifle," he said. He lifted his glass in slow motion, drank, swallowed. "Thirty clips for the .45 caliber service automatic. Enough ..." He paused, swayed a second, and straightened his back. "Enough to do the job, yes?"
Disantis dropped the colored money on the table to pay the tab. He helped Minh to his feet and guided the smaller man toward the door. Minh stopped, grasped Disantis's arm in both hands, and brought his face close. "Enough, yes?" he asked.
Disantis nodded. "Enough," he said.
"Shit," said Tom Newton, "he's not going to tell us anything." The young man from the village knelt before them. His black shirt had been pulled back to pin his arms. Blood was smeared from the comers of his mouth and nostrils. There were cigarette bum marks dotted across his chest.
"Bring the girl here," said Justin. Sayers pushed her to her knees, took a fistful of hair and jerked her head back sharply.
"Where are the VC?" asked Justin. Smoke came through the open door of the hootch. "Tunnels? VC?"
The girl said nothing. Her eyes were very dark and dilated with fear. Small, white teeth showed between her slightly parted lips.
"Hold her arms," Justin said to Newton and Sayers. He took a long knife out of its sheath on his web belt, slipped the point under her buttoned shirtfront, and slashed upward. Cloth ripped and parted. The girl gasped and writhed but the two Americans held her tightly. Her breasts were small, conical, and lightly filmed with moisture.
"Jesus," said Newton and giggled.
Justin tugged her black pants halfway down, slapped her knee aside when she kicked, and used the knife to tear the cloth away from her ankles.
"Hey!" yelled Sayers. The young Vietnamese had lurched to his feet and was struggling to free his arms. Justin turned quickly, dropped the knife, lifted the M-16, and fired three times in rapid succession. Flesh exploded from the boy's chest, throat, and cheek. He kicked backward, spasmed once, and lay still in a growing red pool.
"Oh, Jesus," Newton said again. "Jesus Christ, this is something.
"Shut up," said Justin. He placed the butt of his rifle against the dazed girl's collarbone and pushed her onto her back in the dirt. "Hold her legs," he said. "You'll get your turns."
After seeing Minh to his hotel room and putting him to bed, Disantis went back to his own room and sat out on the balcony. Some time after three am., his son-in-law and four other men materialized out of the darkness and sat down around one of the round tables on the abandoned terrace below. Disantis could hear the sounds of beer cans being tossed into trash bins, the pop of more tabs, and bits of conversation.
"How the hell did all the firing start out there anyway?" asked Justin in the darkness. Several of the others giggled drunkenly.
A firm voice with a Japanese accent answered. "One of them ran. The Reverend opened fire. I joined him in stopping them from escaping."
"... damn brains all over the place." Disantis recognized Sayers's voice. "I'd like to know how they did that."
