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was threading
its way through the wreckage. Troops were everywhere, barking out
orders and acknowledgments in shrill Vietnamese.
    Hambleton swore. It was going to take some doing
to sanitize this area. Like trying to plug up the Mississippi with a
cork. If new personnel and equipment were already swarming in after
the blistering Armageddon of only a few minutes ago, how in hell
would they ever get a Jolly Green in to pick him up?
    He dragged himself back through the underbrush to
his hole. Numbly he crawled in, unholstered his .38, donned his
mosquito netting, and covered himself up. His tongue was dry and his
lips were parched. He was incredibly thirsty. It had been over
twenty- four hours since he had had anything to drink.
    Toward dusk, the ground fog started stealing back
in, rolling across the fields and slipping silently among the trees.
It found Hambleton's hole and settled gently into it, like some
melancholy emblem of his own sinking spirits.

The Third Day
    Captain Dennis Clark herded his tall frame through
the door of the flight-line maintenance shack, went over to the
coffee urn and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took it over to the
broken-down sofa that served as the flight-line roost, sat down, and
hiked his cowboy boots up on the champagne crate that served as a
coffee table. He was bushed.
    "Hey, Denny!" Clark looked up to see the
short figure of Jake Campbell swinging through the door.
    "How they hangin', Jake?"
    "Ops said you just landed. Come on."
    "Where we going?"
    "To the club. Where else?"
    "Can't do it, Jake. Going up again. Soon as
they refuel my bird."
    Campbell checked his watch. "You crazy, man?
Hell, it's after midnight. There's a big party going on over at the
club. Got a couple girls from the Special Service's troupe corraled
in the bar. We're having a farewell party."
    "Outstanding. Who's leaving?"
    Campbell gave him a slap on the shoulder. "You
are, old stud. Your orders came in this afternoon."
    Clark put down his cup. "Say again?"
    "I repeat. Your orders came in this
afternoon."
    "Back to the States?"
    "Right on. Back to the land of the big BX.
You've finished your tour in this garden paradise, old man."
    "The hell!"
    "As your old roommate and only friend, I've
taken the liberty of booking you on a flight leaving for the States
tomorrow." He looked at his watch again. "Correction. Make
that today. Sorry I couldn't get you on a flight leaving sooner."
    "I'll be go to hell."
    "Undoubtedly. Now will you come with me? You
wouldn't believe the redhead I've got staked out that's panting for
your ugly frame."
    Clark unzipped a pocket of his flight suit and
pulled out a cigarette. "So I've actually completed a tour in
this ball-crunchin' madhouse."
    "That you have, m'lad. You can kiss your
little Birddog goodbye forever. It's back to the land of milk
and honey. Where all the women have round eyes and big boobs."
    "Where am I going?"
    "Nellis. Flying F-one-elevens. How does that
grab ya?"
    "You're kidding!"
    "Sex-mad I am. A kidder I ain't."
    Clark smacked his leg with the palm of his hand.
"God damn!"
    "Ain't too shabby."
    He pulled out his lighter and lit his cigarette.
"F-one-elevens. The switchblade. Must be some mistake. How did
the Air Force screw up? That's what I requested."
    "And Nellis Air Patch, Nevada. Right in the
backyard of Lost Wages. With acres of show girls with legs that go
clear up to their assets."
    Clark grinned at his roommate and took a deep drag
from his cigarette. "But you'll have to cancel my plane
reservation, Jake. Can't leave quite yet."
    Campbell cocked his head. "Say again your
message. You're coming in garbled."
    "I appreciate it, Jake. But not just yet. I'm
still on a job."
    "But your orders—"
    "I've got leave coming. I'll take it here
until I've finished what I'm doing."
    "My God, man, you're exasperating! Just what
the hell is so bloody important to keep you in this Black Hole of
Calcutta?"
    "A gent by the name of Iceal E. Hambleton.
Lieutenant Colonel, United