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high places. The majority were incompetent or, at best, redundant. The only name that jumped out at him as being a marvelous choice, a true professional medical man with a stunning record, was his own tucked down there at the bottom. So, that was why they’d dragged him along. They didn’t even have the good manners to consult with him beforehand. Well, he thought, I’ll be taking a dip in the Mekhong with rocks tied to my old fellow before they get me on a joint task force to Xiang Khouang. Dream on, Politburo. Unless….
    To the great, almost visible relief of the delegates, the vice-minister announced they’d be breaking for lunch and would talk about details and dates early in the afternoon. A room never cleared so fast. In seconds, only Siri and Minister Bounchu remained. They’d been through countless campaigns together. Siri knew the general to be a sincere but simple man. He knew the soldier saw Siri’s educational background as a barrier between them, as did many of the jungle elite. Siri’s lack of respect for the Party line didn’t help to bring the two old men together. They admired each other for their respective skills; Bounchu’s expertise at inflicting damage on men, Siri’s at repairing them. But they had never been, and could never be, friends.
    “You’re going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you, Siri?” Bounchu said, leaning back on his creaking chair. He avoided looking into Siri’s emerald green eyes. Eyes that intimidated so many.
    “Not at all,” Siri replied. “I’m going to make it dead simple.”
    “You can’t not go, you know?”
    “Oh, I can.”
    “You’d embarrass the Party, Siri. Not for the first time, I know. The Americans are aware we have just the one coroner. They specifically mentioned your name.”
    “They’re looking for bones, Comrade. I don’t know a humerus from a whale’s appendage.”
    “Listen. If you didn’t go, they’d be the experts.”
    “They are the experts. I’m a converted bush surgeon. They have a decorated forensic pathologist on their team. A real one.”
    “Well, for some reason, they hold you in esteem, Siri. They know about the cases you’ve worked on. It’s what they believe you are that counts, not what you consider yourself to be. We need someone there who can keep a professional eye on them. Like it or not, you’re the only one we’ve got.”
    “Don’t you read the Pasason Lao , Comrade Bounchu? I’ve just come back from a very traumatic holiday in Cambodia.” He ran a finger across the tick-shaped scar on his forehead. “I’m not fit for service. I’d never pass the medical.”
    “Yes, I’ve heard all about it. It was unfortunate, I give you that.”
    “Unfortunate? You’re right. Torture and starvation and near death could get a little troublesome. By rights I shouldn’t be here today. And it’s for that very reason that I don’t have to take any more damned fool orders from you lot. You can’t do any worse to me than the Khmer Rouge did. What were you thinking, Bounchu? That you’d drag me into this meeting stone cold, show me no respect, and expect me to be so fired up with national pride after a morning with the enemy that I’d gladly traipse up north on a bone hunt? It might work with your young brainwashed cadres but I’m over the hill and happily rolling down the far side. I’m a renegade. Out of control. So you either shoot me for disobedience or put up with me telling you where you can stick your task force.”
    Siri drank his green Fanta as a sort of visual exclamation mark. It was warm and syrupy and he wished he hadn’t but it was a fittingly dramatic touch. Bounchu wasn’t the type to fly into a rage. One of his qualities as a leader was his poker face. You could never tell whether he was about to shake your hand or shoot you. It wasn’t until he smiled that Siri knew the minister wouldn’t be reaching for his Kalashnikov.
    “Siri, old friend,” he said. “We’ve been through a