He knew this call to Michael Huynh was critical. He needed more men for this attack to succeed. He wanted to know the answer from Huynh before he talked to Hodges. He hoped that he could raise him quickly and get that answer.
“You ready?” Dranko asked as he turned the radio on.
“Yeah.”
Dranko powered up the unit and fiddled with the dials. Random bits of conversation floated through the speaker as he searched for the station where he had heard Huynh’s men talking before.
The distinct sharp staccato of Vietnamese told them they had found the right channel. The conversation between two people was animated, stressed. They waited for it to end before transmitting.
“This is call sign Hammerdog. We wish to talk to the leader of the VPS,” Dranko said, slowly pronouncing out the initials VPS.
A long pause ensued. Dranko repeated himself, this time adding, “We were referred by Joe Vang. Repeat, Joe Vang.”
“Moment please,” the accented voice returned. Cooper and Dranko waited for more than a minute. Each second grew longer than the one before and Dranko’s foot tapped nervously. Cooper clenched his jaw and looked at the clock. They still had an hour before the call with Hodges. We’ll be fine if we can get Huynh on the line before then.
The radio cackled, “State again your business.” The voice was clearer, without an accent.
“This is Hammerdog. We are friends of Joe Vang. Talked to the leader of VPS before. Need to do again. Business proposition.”
“We do not talk business over the radio in English.”
“This is lucrative. Very.”
Another pause, “OK. Leader can talk tomorrow morning.”
Cooper cringed and the two men exchanged a look, “Must be within hour. I repeat, very good business.”
“Give me a minute.” They waited.
“OK. This channel at seven forty-five.”
“Thank you. Wilco.”
Dranko leaned back heavily in the chair and exhaled, “Phew! I think that may have been the hardest part.”
“I hope so,” Cooper responded and then yawned. “I’m going to crash. Wake me in thirty minutes.” Cooper stood up and headed for the stairs.
“How do you fall asleep before and after big moments of stress? I’m wired as a junkie right now!” Dranko marveled.
“Dunno. Just can. Heck, Tom Brady fell asleep right before the first Super Bowl,” he called over his shoulder.
A little later, he was woken by the sound of Dranko kicking his shoes. Cooper rose, stretched, let out a loud yawn, and then followed him back downstairs.
He stared at the battery-powered clock on the wall as the last minutes ticked by. At seven forty-five exactly, Michael Huynh’s clear, strong voice bellowed into the room.
“This is who you wanted to speak with. Who is this?” Cooper could picture him sitting at his ornate desk, talking on a portable unit.
Cooper fingered the call button, “This is a friend of Joe Vang’s. We came to you a few weeks ago about protecting our neighborhood. You never heard back from us.”
There was a pause. Cooper guessed that Huynh received a lot of requests for such things.
Finally, he said, “Are you the popular one?” Cooper appreciated Huynh speaking in code.
“Yes, sir. The very one.”
“Ah, good to hear from you. What can I do for you now?”
“I need six very well trained and very well armed men. First thing in the morning. Estacada.”
“That is a dangerous journey,” was Huynh’s response.
“Yes. Three or four hours, I’d guess.”
“You told my man this was lucrative. How so?”
“I have gold.”
“So do I,” he laughed.
Cooper smiled. Negotiations underway. “It’s always good to have more, yes?”
“Certainly. What is your offer?”
Cooper eased back into the chair, “Three ounces. Plus six M4s, automatic, when it’s done.”
Huynh laughed. “That would buy you a toothless old man with a squirt gun.”
Cooper forced a laugh himself, “But, I’m sure it would be a handsome old man.”
“I like a man with a sense of humor, but let’s get serious.” Huynh’s voice turned cold as a corpse.
Cooper matched him, “Yes, let’s.”
“You are far away. Any men I send will face danger both coming and going. Plus, they will face danger on the assignment itself, of course,” Huynh’s voice was steady, dripping with confidence.
“You speak truth I cannot deny. However, you see what’s happening around us. Since we last discussed, ah, business, the value of gold has increased has it not?” Cooper matched the other man’s demeanor.
“It is good you agree with me about the peril my men will face. And, yet you offer me machineguns which you do not even yet possess.”
Cooper countered, “True. But, you’ve heard of the spoils of war, no?”
“Of course,” Cooper knew he was striking a nerve as irritation crept into Huynh’s voice.
“Well, that is a sound basis for our deal. I’m able to tell you that with success, what portion of the enemy’s loot shall be yours.”
Huynh paused so long before responding that Cooper almost panicked and asked him if he we still on the line.
“I see your point. It is valid. I will accept five ounces of gold and all of the automatic weapons liberated from our adversary,” Cooper could almost imagine Huynh at his desk, hands folded in assurance of getting what he wanted.
The tense negotiations continued back and forth. Cooper’s blood rose as the minutes ticked by. He was violating one of his father’s cardinal rules of negotiating: never be the only person in the room with a time deadline.
At seven fifty seven they hadn’t made much progress. Huynh had agreed to two men for four ounces and the weapons.
“Let me have a second,” Cooper said to Huynh and huddled with Dranko.
“How much gold can you put to this?”
Dranko rubbed his chin. “It’s your son, brother. You can have it all if you need it.”
“How much do you have?”
“Ten ounces.” That was worth almost $20,000 before the Plague.
Cooper touched his shoulder, “Thank you.”
He clicked the handset. Seven fifty-eight. “I want to save us both busy men time. Here is my final offer; for six well-trained and well-armed men, I will give you six ounces of gold, a dozen M4s, and a heavy machinegun.”
Seconds ticked by in silence.
“Alright. You have a deal. I can have my men there by nine in the morning. Where shall they meet you?”
Dranko gave them the map coordinates for a road junction a half mile from his property.
Eight o’clock. Cooper mopped his brow with a rag and had Dranko begin turning dials to reach the station that Hodges was on.
Static. It hissed over the speakers as minutes ticked by. Cooper forced himself to take rapid, shallow breaths. He wanted to sound like he was on the verge of panic when Hodges came on. Dranko made a few attempt to raise Hodges on the radio and the only response was the disturbing scream of dead air. As the clock changed to 8:05, Cooper’s fear turned real. What did this mean?
He looked at Dranko, whose eyes were full of concern.
“Maybe he just wants to take you off guard?”
Cooper nodded, hoping, and kept up his practice of breathing quickly, so that he would sound out of breath.
“You there?” The voice actually startled him at 8:08. “Sorry I am late. I had a situation to deal with.” Hodges voice was flat, emotionless.
“I want my boy,” Cooper responded, deliberately sounding firm, but letting fear seep into his words.
“That’s easy. Just turn yourself in to me. I’ll release your boy to anyone you want.”