Lindsay McKenna - Ride The Tiger

Licking her lower lip, she raised her hand. “Bye, Maman. Have a good time.”

“Oh, I will! I will!”

Dany felt oddly emotional—shaky without knowing why. The Renault started down the quarter-mile-long driveway. Built from imported red brick, the driveway wound toward Highway 14, a main thoroughfare to Da Nang. Tall, lovely silk trees paralleled the road, adding to the rich veneer the Villard plantation presented to those passing by the highway. But lately, the only vehicles to pass had been long convoys of American marines in trucks, an almost constant occurrence. The Renault coughed noisily as it chugged toward the dirt highway, and bluish smoke popped several times from the exhaust pipe.

The midmorning sun lanced through the canopy of trees near the front steps, and Dany felt perspiration begin to dot her face. High temperatures and equally high humidity were a fact of life in Vietnam. But, born at the plantation, Dany had never been bothered by the weather as her parents had.

Dany frowned as she saw another American military convoy making its way past their driveway on its way to Da Nang, ten miles to the north. Dany was terrified that if any American vehicle came into their long driveway, for whatever reason, Binh Duc would retaliate—violently. When the Americans had landed on Da Nang’s soil in March the Villards had made it known that the plantation was off-limits to any and all military personnel. Thus far, the brash Americans had respected the Villards neutrality and land.

The Renault had almost reached the intersection to Highway 14, still sputtering and spitting a bluish trail of exhaust. Dany smiled. Her mother knew nothing of mechanics and would drive the Renault until it stopped dead on the spot. Amy Lou would die of embarrassment if her car stopped somewhere other than where she wanted it to. Rubbing her brow, Dany decided she’d better have the car looked at when her mother returned. One of their Vietnamese workers, who was something of a genius with inventions, also served as makeshift mechanic, although he never did well on the Renault.

Just as Dany began to turn toward the house, a huge fireball enveloped the Renault. As if part of a movie stunt, the small car lifted upward through the fireball, flew apart and landed in pieces alongside the brick drive.

“Maman!” Dany barely had time to scream before the pulverizing sound concussion slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. Another cry tore from Dany as she hit the brick driveway. Skin was torn from her elbow and hand, but she barely felt it. No! her mind caterwauled. In a daze, she lurched to her feet, the heat momentarily stinging her skin, the smell carried on the blast a combination of oil, metal and another odor her mind instantly rejected. A sob tore from Dany and she began running toward the flames.

As she sprinted down the driveway, a second blast erupted from the already charred wreck with a force of heat that scorched Dany’s skin. This time the sickening odor was undeniable, and her stomach lurched. Choking back the bitter taste of bile in her mouth, Dany threw her hand up to protect her face and eyes as she continued to run headlong. Her mother! Denial surged through Dany along with nausea at the terrible smell of burned human flesh. Dany raced on, her mouth open in a soundless shriek, her eyes blurred with tears.

* * *

“Good God!” Major Gib Ramsey breathed as the blue Renault exploded into a fireball less than a quarter mile away. His hand flew to the jeep’s dashboard to steady himself as Captain Pete Mallory slammed on the brakes. As the jeep skidded to a stop, Gib leaped out and began running toward the car, already engulfed in flames. The French car must have hit a land mine—or someone had put a bomb in it. He knew, even as he ran, that no way could anyone in that car have survived the explosion.

Adrenaline shot through Gib, making him excruciatingly alert. His nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed in calculated swings from right to left. VC could be hiding nearby. This could be an ambush. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slender young woman screaming as she ran down the driveway toward the burning Renault. The charred remains of the car body had landed on its side and fire and black smoke poured upward through the arms of the silk trees, smudging the bright blue sky.

Gib’s heart pounded triple time, fear of stepping on another land mine foremost in his mind. Still his huge strides carried him forward along the bank of the narrow dirt road. Mines usually were buried in the dirt near the tire-track ruts, so he avoided the center of the road. Realizing there was nothing to be done for the driver of the car, he changed direction to intercept the young woman, who seemed to be aiming herself directly at the burning car. Didn’t she realize that if the gas tank hadn’t already exploded, it could, possibly killing her as well?

Jerking a look across his shoulder as he ran, Gib yelled, “Pete, get the fire extinguisher! Stop one of these trucks and get some help.”

Pete lifted his hand in acknowledgement, quickly stepping out of the jeep.

All of Gib’s attention centered on the woman. At first, he thought she was Vietnamese, with her long, flowing black hair, dusky golden skin and traditional Vietnamese farmer garb. But he changed his mind as he ran around the burning wreck and drew closer to her. Her eyes were huge with shock and tears, her face heart-shaped, with high cheekbones.

Tucking away his immediate impressions, Gib came to a halt in her path, both hands outstretched to prevent her from getting any closer to the car.

“Maman! Maman!”

It vaguely registered on Gib’s senses that she was speaking French. He’d been in Vietnam long enough to pick up a smattering. Maman meant mother. It must have been the woman’s mother in the Renault. Oh, God... Even after two years of combat, Gib couldn’t stop the welling up of emotion. He knew firsthand what it was like to lose a mother.

His nostrils flared and Gib drank in huge draughts of air and steeled himself to take the woman’s full weight. She wasn’t slowing down. It was as if she didn’t even see him in her path.

“Wait, stop!” he pleaded, as he grabbed her arms. “You can’t go any closer! It’s liable to explode.”

Dany was jerked to a halt, nearly coming off her feet. The man, a giant towering over her, gripped her arms, trapping her.

“Let me go!” Dany screamed, her words turning into sobs as she struggled. She kept her gaze riveted on the blazing inferno that surrounded the Renault.

“No!” She was much stronger than he’d anticipated, Gib realized. Her black hair flew around her shoulders, and the look on her tear-streaked face was wild with anguish, her eyes filled with hysteria. “Stop fighting! You can’t get any closer!”

Blindly, Dany struck out at the man in green fatigues. Nothing registered on her shocked senses except that her mother was dead or dying. She lashed out at him and tried to pull from his powerful grip. “No! Maman! Maman!” she shrieked, her voice cracking.

“Hold it,” Gib snapped. He dodged several of her poorly aimed blows. He knew she was out of her mind with grief and shock. For the first time he got a look into her eyes. Sweet God, but they were the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, so wide and lustrous, filled with tears and pain. His mouth went suddenly dry, he tried to gentle his grip on her arms. “Take it easy, lady! You can’t go near that car. The gas tank—”

“No!” Dany shrieked. Kicking, she struck out at the man, her foot connecting solidly against his upper thigh. Immediately, he released her. Stumbling backward, Dany caught herself, whirled around and headed toward the car. She had to help her mother.