I had no idea how close the police car was, but he should be alongside me in a few seconds. I waited and saw his headlights on the road to my left, then the yellow jeep was right beside me. In a split second, the guy in the passenger seat with the AK-47 saw me, and our eyes met. He looked surprised, then aimed his rifle as I accelerated and sideswiped the jeep. I didn’t have to hit him hard because the driver, who was looking for me up ahead, wasn’t expecting it, and the yellow jeep went off the road and skidded on the soft shoulder. In my sideview mirror, I saw the jeep hit the drainage ditch and flip over. I heard a muffled crash and saw flames, then an explosion.
I had the accelerator to the floor, and I was still in the oncoming lane. I pulled back into my lane and saw in my mirror that the truck had come to a stop on the road. I put my headlights back on.
I pumped the brakes and got the speed down to sixty KPH as we entered the town of Van Gia.
It was very quiet in the car, and I could hear my breathing. Mr. Cam was actually on the floor, curled into a fetal position. I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw Susan staring straight ahead.
I was doing about forty KPH now down the main street, which was Highway One.
There weren’t any streetlights, but most of the one-story stucco buildings were lit, and this illuminated the road. I saw a karaoke parlor to my left, and dozens of kids were hanging out in front of it. Bicycles and motor scooters were parked everywhere, and people were crossing the street. I said to Susan, “You should get down.”
Susan slumped down in the rear.
Up ahead on the right, a yellow police jeep was parked in front of the police station, and a few men in uniform were outside. If the cops back there had radioed ahead, then this was the end of the road, and we’d be lucky if we got a firing squad.
I literally held my breath as I approached the police station. There was not a single car moving on the road because at night there weren’t many places you’d want to go, and the town was small enough to walk or bicycle. So, the dark blue Nissan stood out. I slumped down in the seat to try to look like I was five feet tall, and I put my right hand over my face as though I was scratching lice or something. Mr. Cam made a movement, and I took my hand away from my face, grabbed his hair, and pushed him down. “Im lang!” I said, even though he wasn’t talking, but I couldn’t remember how to say, “Don’t move!”
We were abreast of the police station now, and I was trying to keep my head turned to the side, and my eyeballs on the cops, while holding Mr. Cam by his hair. I know you’re not supposed to touch a Vietnamese’s head, but he was in the fetal position, and I couldn’t get my hand on his balls.
The policemen glanced at the dark blue Nissan, and I realized I was about to pull Mr. Cam’s hair out. I slid my hand down to his neck and held it.
We were past the police station now, and I looked in the right sideview mirror. The cops were looking at the car, but I could tell they weren’t looking for me. Still, the car held their interest. I kept moving in first gear up the main street.
A kid on a bicycle passed right in front of me, and we made eye contact. He yelled out, “Lien Xo! Lien Xo!” which I recently learned meant Soviet, or sometimes foreigner, meaning me.
It was time to go. I accelerated and soon we had passed through the town of Van Gia and were back on the dark highway.
I shifted through the gears and in a few minutes we were sailing along at a hundred KPH. I kept looking in the rearview mirror to see if the kid tipped off the cops to the Lien Xo, but I saw no headlights.
I breathed for the first time in about ten minutes. I said to Susan, “How about some nuoc?”
She already had the bottle open and passed it to me. I took a long swig and offered the bottle to Mr. Cam on the floor by tapping it on his head. I figured he was dehydrated by now, but he didn’t want any water, so I passed the bottle back to Susan, who took a long drink.
She drew a deep breath and said, “I’m still shaking, and I have to take a pee.”
I pulled off to the side of the road, and all three of us took a well-deserved pee. Mr. Cam tried to make a break for it, but it was a halfhearted attempt, and I pushed him back in the car.
I checked the tires, then I examined the car for bullet holes, but I couldn’t find any. They either weren’t shooting at us, or their aim was off because of the bouncing. It really didn’t matter.
I looked at the driver’s side and saw that it was scraped, and the left front fender was bent, but basically I just kissed the jeep, which is all it took.
Back in the car, I accelerated to a hundred and maintained that speed. I said to Susan, “I really am sorry about that.”
“Nothing to apologize for. We were running from bandits. You did a great job.” She asked, “Do you drive like that at home?”
“I actually took an FBI course in offensive driving. I passed the course.”
She didn’t reply, but she did light a cigarette. She offered one to Mr. Cam, who was sitting in his seat now, and he took it. She lit it for him, and between her shaking hand and his trembling lips, I’m surprised it got lit.
The sea was on our right again, and the last sliver of the moon reflected just enough light off the water to make it not totally black. I passed a truck heading north, but there were no vehicles heading south. This was a totally desolate road at night, which was good for making time, but not good for much else. Now and then I could see a pothole, and I swerved to avoid it. Sometimes I didn’t see the pothole and hit it, putting the Nissan into a jarring bounce.
Susan asked, “Do you think anyone is looking for us?”
“The only people looking for us are dead.”
She didn’t reply.
I said to her, “Mr. Thuc, however, may be looking for Mr. Cam by now.”
She thought about that and said, “Mr. Thuc will have heard from his lady-in-distress by now that we were running from the cops, so he’s thinking we’re either dead or continuing on to Hue.”
“Why won’t he call the cops?”
“Because the cops would want about a thousand dollars just to look for the car, and thousands more if they found it.” She added, “Mr. Thuc is just hoping for the best by now. He’ll worry about it tomorrow if he hasn’t heard from Mr. Cam. When you think of cops here, don’t think of helpful boys in blue who call you sir when you ask for help. They’re the biggest thieves in the country.”
“I understand.”
Susan spoke with Mr. Cam, who seemed a little better after his cigarette. Susan said to me, “He denies that we were being set up to be robbed. He says we are very untrusting. He wants to get out.”
“Tell him he has to drive the car back from Hue”Phu Bai Airport, or Mr. Thuc will kill him.”
Susan told him, and I recognized the word giet, which means murder or kill. Funny how I remembered some unpleasant words. I said to Susan, “Tell him he’ll be home with his family tomorrow, if he behaves.”
She told him, he said something, and Susan said to me, “I doubt very much if he’ll go to the police. There’s nothing in that for him but trouble.”
“Good. Because I really don’t want to have to kill him.”
She didn’t reply for a long time, then asked me, “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
She sat back in her seat and lit another cigarette. “I see why they sent you.”