"Why? It's your name, ain't it? Or did you forget that too?"
"I can't explain. And don't use the name in front of the men, either. You and Chiun are the only ones who know who I am. Let's keep it that way."
"Now, what the hell difference does that make?"
"A life-or-death difference. Just trust me."
"Okay, you're the man. Hey, don't this remind you of the time you stole that gook tank and ran it all the way to ... Now, what was the name of that little shithole hamlet?"
"Phuc Hu."
"Yeah. That's what we called it, all right. You know, rememberin' you drive that sucker in that day, with our side itching to blow you away thinkin' you was Charlie that was one memory that kept me going all these years. Funny what a man clings to when he's down to zero."
"I remember Khe Sanh a lot better."
"Yeah, Khe Sanh. It all changed after that, didn't it? And Tet. You remember Tet?"
"Yeah," Remo said, searching the road with troubled eyes. "I remember Tet."
They finished camouflaging the tank. The men began settling down. Remo set two Amerasians on sentry duty because they were fresher.
"Shit," Youngblood said, sitting down and putting his back against the grass-entangled treads. "Tet. Hey, you remember that cocksucker of a major we had at Khe Sanh? What's-his-name?"
"You mean Bauer?"
"Yeah. That was his name. Deke Bauer. Everyone hated him. Meanest sonovabitch I ever met. I used to lie awake in that conex and wonder whatever happened to him. Sometimes I'd make up grisly ways for him to buy it, just to pass the time."
"He died," Remo said distantly.
"Our side or theirs?"
"Neither. He bought it back in the world."
"The world. Man, I last saw the world when I was twenty. I'm over forty now. Nam sure took a big chunk of this old Leatherneck's life. Wonder if I can hack it back there now."
Youngblood suddenly looked up at Remo with skeptical eyes. "How'd you know Bauer bought it back in the world? I thought you couldn't remember nothing but Nam."
Remo didn't answer for the longest time. Then he spoke. "Here comes Chiun. Remember what I said about using my name."
But Dick Youngblood didn't reply. His eyes were closed and his big bulldog face had settled into sleep. Remo went to greet the Master of Sinanju. Chiun came riding in on the back of his elephant. Chiun tapped the elephant's flank with a short length of bamboo and the elephant stopped and knelt. Chiun dismounted.
"You did not need to wait," Chiun told him. "Rambo and I would have caught up to you."
"We need rest," Remo said simply.
"We need to reach the American submarine," said Chiun. "If it is discovered by the Vietnamese, it may leave without us, and then where would we be?"
"In Vietnam," Remo said simply. "Where a lot of us have been for a long, long time. Anything else would be a step up. Even dead."
"You seem more at ease than I have seen you in a while," Chiun pointed out.
Remo looked away. "Why not? We're almost to the coast. "
"I mean with me."
"You got us out. I'm not worried about you anymore."
"But your face is not entirely free from worry."
"Don't you think it's time to get rid of the elephant? He's slowing us down."
"I promised him a nice home when this is over."
"He won't fit in the submarine."
"That remains to be seen," Chiun said.
"Have it your way, Little-" Remo abruptly walked away.
Chiun bounced after him. "What did you say?"
"I said have it your way, you little gook," Remo said hotly. "I just don't want my people jeopardized because you insist on having your way about everything. Got that?"
Chiun stopped in his tracks. "Yes," he said softly. "I have it. I have it perfectly."
Hours later, a Hind gunship orbited by. It flew higher than the last few, which had all gone down in flames under the concentrated fire of their AK-47's. The tanks had long ago stopped turning up in the road. Not all the machine-gun fire in the world could affect them, but each tank that had gotten in their way had been confronted by the Master of Sinanju. Treads had been popped, cannon bores bent double, and hatches smashed shut. They rolled past each piece of wreckage with impunity.
"Looks like he ain't sticking around," Youngblood told Remo.
Remo watched the gunship disappear beyond some hills. "He couldn't have missed spotting the elephant," he replied. "We'd better get on the move again." They pushed south along the completely deserted road. Not even the occasional conical-hatted farmer could be seen.
Dick Youngblood shoved his head into the driver's pit.
"They know we're on this road," he whispered. "No doubt about it."
"What do you think?"
"There's two ways this could go. One, they've given up and are lettin' us go. The other is that they're massing somewhere ahead for an ambush."
"The Vietnamese don't know about giving up."
"Well, there you go," Youngblood said quietly. "Been real nice knowing you, Remo."
"I've come a long way for you," Remo said. "I'm getting you home."
"Well, I've been talkin' to your gook friend and he's sayin' there may not be room on the sub for all of us. He keeps lookin' at me when he says that. Why's he doing that?"
"He's not a gook, and don't worry about Chiun. I can handle him."
"Yeah, while you're handling him, who's going to be handling whatever the Vietnamese are getting ready to throw at us?"
Remo grinned. "I thought I'd leave that little detail to you."
Youngblood slapped Remo on the back boisterously. "Always said you were a generous man. Glad to see that much ain't changed."
They rolled on through the night, pausing only to allow Chiun and his elephant to catch up. The sound of the tank's noisy motor beat down on Remo's concentration. He ran with the hatches open because the oil stink was getting to his sensitive nostrils.
Every few hours a helicopter gunship prowled above. But they were unmolested. It was very ominous.
The tangy scent of seawater crept into the air just as dawn was breaking. Remo began to worry. They were nearing their destination, if Chiun's directions were on the mark, but there had been no sign of the Master of Sinanju in many hours.
Remo sent the tank around a long bend in the road that ran through the middle of a rubber-tree plantation. A figure stepped out onto the road and cocked a thumb like a hitchhiker.
"Chiun!"
"Who else?" asked the Master of Sinanju, leaping onto the moving tank. The Amerasians squatting on the superstructure moved aside to make room for him. "Where's the elephant?" Remo wondered.
"We took a shortcut and I saw danger so I sent him ahead."
"Bait, eh?"
"Remo! Your memory may not know me, but I would think your judgment would tell you that this sweet face would never harm a worthy animal."
"Okay," Remo said. "What are we getting into?"
"Many soldiers, many tanks. And the helicopter things."
"How many?"
"Many, many."
"That's a lot."
"They are on the beach we seek. I do not know about the submarine. I could not see it."
"Let me know when we're getting close," Remo said grimly.
"You have a plan, perhaps?"
"I have an objective. I'm going to reach it, plan or no plan."
The Master of Sinanju sniffed disdainfully.
"Rambo talk again. It will take years to purge you of it, and I am already an old man. Fie!"
"No," Remo said. "Semper Fi."
Dick Youngblood's voice sang out from the tank's innards. "Do or die!"
Chapter 22
The defense minister ordered the Hind gunship pilot to make a final pass over the slow-moving T-54 tank. It looked like such an ineffectual object, with tiny figures clinging to its superstructure.
Obviously, he thought, it was not the machine, but the men inside. He ordered the pilot to return to the staging area.