Stanton coughed. "Have you got a source?"
"Bob does. Some breed in Bao Loc. He's got some U.S. shit captured back from the Cong."
"Don't skimp. Let's make Hughes and the Air Force look good."
"You don't have to tell me that."
"I'm not so sure."
"_Be sure_. We're in this for the same reason."
Stanton leaned in. "We're here now. We're _not in Cuba_. When the buildup starts next year, we'll have a lot more cover to work in."
Pete looked around. The whores went you claaaazy.
"You're right. And I've been in worse places."
o o o
Bao Loc was north. 94 clicks. They limo'ed up.
Mesplиde booked a stretch. Chuck and Flash reclined. The pouch flight landed early. Drac delivered. Ward delivered Drac.
Old bills-C-notes-one hundred K in all.
Pete reclined. Pete dug on the countryside.
He'd called Ward. They'd talked-Saigon to Vegas. Ward ragged him. Ward ragged on narcotics.
Flash _back_-ten months-Ward _loves_ dope then. Ward lauds dope at the Summit.
Dope made money. Dope pleased Drac. Dope sedated jigs.
Flash _up_-Ward is pissed-Ward has _ideals_.
Dope is bad. Dope is crass. Dope means risk. Don't disrupt my fundbook plan. Don't disrupt Drac's incursion.
Ward was Ward. Ward got pissed easy. Ward lugged a Jesus cross in his sewer.
He told Ward to visit Barb. He told Ward to watch Tiger. Check the hut/tail the cabs/vet my no-pill policy.
Pete yawned. The stretch hauled. The wheels kicked mud. Mesplиde ran the radio. Chuck and Flash gawked. Dig the rivers. Dig the inlets. Dig the sampans. Dig the kute and komely gook quail.
Chuck loved Laos. Mesplиde said napalm glowed. Tran said he saw a white tiger. We own it now-the Bolaven Plateau.
Three poppy farms. The Set River. Big tiger tracks.
Guйry was there now. Tran was there now. Tran ran a shorthanded crew. Six goons for three camps-slaves thus on hiatus.
The slaves survived the bombing. The old goons fried. The refineries stood untorched. Tran knew potential chemists. Tran knew potential Marv guards. Tran knew geography.
Tran say you smart. You raid Bolaven. You no raid Ba Na Key. Ba Na Key north-closed to VC-tribe farms _boocoo_. Hmong tribes. Tough. No slaves there-Hmong work _en famille_. They fight. They no hide. They no run ricky-tick.
The radio blared-discordant shit-Mesplиde loved nigger jazz. The highway veered. They hit Tran Phu Street. Bao Loc-2 km.
They cut right. They passed silk looms. They passed rubber farms. They crossed the Seoi Tua Ha River. They passed beggar squads.
Mesplиde tossed some chump change. The beggars descended. The beggars scratched and clawed. They passed a province hut. They passed tea farms. They passed gook priests on mopeds.
There's Bob. There's the ARVN's dump.
Dig it:
ARVN guards. K-9 Korps. Gun stacks under dropcloths-open for biz.
They pulled in. They got out. Bob saw them. Bob walked a breed up.
"This is Franзois. He's half French, and I think he likes boys, which don't discredit all the fine shit he's got for sale."
Franзois wore pink pj's. Francois wore hair curlers. Franзois wore Chanel No. 5.
Chuck vamped him. "Hey, sweetcakes, have we met before? Did you take my ticket at Grauman's Chinese?"
Franзois said, "Fuck you. You cheap Charlie. American Punk No. 10."
Chuck howled. Flash yukked. Mesplиde roared. Pete took Bob aside.
"What have we got?"
"We got.50-caliber HMGs, MMGs up the wazoo, M-l32 flamethrowers with replacement parts,.45-caliber SMGs with 30-round magazines, a fucking shitload of M-14s and 34 M-79 grenade launchers."
Pete looked over. Pete saw six pallets-fat under dropcloths.
"You figure six planeloads?"
"I figure six _big_ planeloads, 'cause each stack has two stacks behind it, and we got to string out the flights to keep Wayne's shit going in."
Pete lit a cigarette. "Run down the quality."
"It's just below Army standard, which is what we want, 'cause then it qualifies as surplus, which means it won't draw no suspicion when it goes through Nellis."
Pete walked over. Pete pulled dropcloths. Pete smelled cosmoline. Wood crates/nailed planks/stencil-mark designations.
Bob walked over. "It goes to Nellis, right? Some EM unload it and drive to an Agency drop."
"Right. They won't know that they're transporting covert, so we've got to hide the shit in with some stuff they won't want to pilfer."
Bob scratched his balls. "Flamethrower parts. I got to say there ain't much demand for them in Lost Wages."
Pete nodded. Pete whistled. Pete cued Mesplиde. Mesplиde grabbed Franзois and bartered in.
Pete signaled-six loads/six payments.
Mesplиde bartered. Franзois bartered. Mesplиde bartered back. They talked polyglot-French-Viet-diphthongs and shouts.
Pete walked up. Pete listened. He got the _bonnes affaires_. He got the _tham thams_. He got the Lyonnaise slang.
Francois rolled his eyes. Franзois stamped his feet. Francois steamed up his pajamas. Mesplиde rolled his eyes. Mesplиde balled his fists. Mesplиde smoked three Gauloises.
Franзois went hoarse. Mesplиde went hoarse. They coughed. They slapped backs. They bowed.
Franзois said, "Okay, big daddy-o."
o o o
They drove back. They talked shit. They cut through Bien Hoa. The Cong hit ten days back-mortars predawn.
The stretch got close. They saw the mess. They saw flags at half-mast.
They cut back. They laughed. They slugged Bacardi. They told tales-Paraguay to Pigs-they goofed on CIA gaffes.
It's '62. Let's pluck the Beard. Let's shave him impotent. Let's dope the water. Let's spook the spics. Let's stage a visit from Christ.
They laughed. They drank. They vowed to free Cuba. They stopped and hit the Go-Go.
There's Wayne.
He's alone-per usual. He's pissed-per always. He's watching Bongo and his whores.
64
(Las Vegas, 11/22/64)
One year.
He knew it. Jane knew it. They never _said_ it.
Littell drove to Tiger Kab. Littell played the radio. Radio pundits assessed. One fool stressed Jackie. One fool stressed the kids. One fool stressed innocence lost.
Jane drove to Vegas. Jane holed up. Jane stayed in his suite. They called it "Thanksgiving." The date hit. They never factored it in.
The papers rehashed it. The IV rehashed it. It rehashed all day. He left early. Jane kissed him. Jane turned on the TV. He returned late. Jane kissed him. Jane turned off the TV.
They talked. They skirted it. They discussed prosaics. Jane was mad. He'd coaxed her to Vegas. He'd coaxed her for IT.
He said he had business. He kissed Jane and walked out. He heard Jane turn on the TV
Littell killed the radio. Littell cruised by Tiger Kab. Littell perched across the street.
He parked. He watched the hut. He saw Barb B. There's Barb in lounge garb-heels put her over six feet.
Milt Chargin ran shtick. Barb laughed. Barb palmed a package. Barb grabbed an outgoing cab. Tiger stripes-Miami West-all roads to Cuba.
Littell watched the hut. Drivers walked through-fey minions of tolerant Pete. Pete collected strays. Pete ignored their faults. Pete courted diversion. Pete said he clocked Betty's visits. Pete said he clocked Betty gone.
Two hours tops-don't kill what you can't suppress.
Littell watched the hut. A cab pulled out. Littell tailed it. The cab drove west. Littell stuck close. They hit West LV.
The cab stopped-Monroe and "J"-two men got in. The cab pulled out. Littell stuck close. They hit Tonopah Highway.