Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

“Sell it? To whom?”

“Why, to the merchants.”

Dr. Tran’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he murmured, “And is the investigation headquarters also carrying out a mission of promoting the black market?”

This time Yong Kyu had his reply prepared. “It’s easy enough to buy medicines. If you simply send a request for donations to the headquarters it will be refused, but isn’t it true that you can get all items and in any quantity if you buy them? When the main road is closed, you find an alley and make a detour.”

Dr. Tran said nothing, and just kept whirling his silver spoon around and around in the fruit salad. After a while he spoke. “Why point this out to me?”

“Because of a Vietnamese friend of mine,” Yong Kyu admitted truthfully. “He’s a very clever trader. Knowing that the price of medicines is high in the present market, he asked me a favor.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Yes. I’m sure you’ve heard of a merchant named Nguyen Cuong?”

“I have,” Dr. Tran said curtly.

“This friend of mine is his younger brother, a man by the name of Nguyen Thach. He’s the one who wants to buy antibiotics.”

“Is that the only reason you came here?”

“No, sir. I came to be friends with Huan, too. I’d like to take him out and buy him a little gift, if I may?”

“I appreciate that.”

“I know something about the Turen supply warehouse. If you can manage to get some assistance from the provincial government office, then you’ll get all the supplies you need.”

“Well, I’m running late. I have to be back at the hospital.”

Dr. Tran extended his hand as he got to his feet. Yong Kyu held out his hand and said, “Would you care to meet Mr. Nguyen Thach?”

“Give me a ring,” Tran replied, revealing no sign of emotion, his expression again as stony as it was before.

This time Yong Kyu did not salute but instead bowed before turning to leave.

Upon arriving at Thach’s office in Le Loi market, Yong Kyu found Thach gone and Toi was in the hammock instead.

“I’ve been making rounds all morning with your chief sergeant. He drove and I had to handle all the bickering with the bar and club owners.”

Yong Kyu paused a moment before saying anything. “What do you think? Despite his demeanor, I think Nguyen Thach is a special kind of man.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows more about the market than anybody else. Maybe even more than old man Hien.”

“He went to Hue University,” Toi said. “A very intelligent man he is.”

Yong Kyu let Toi in on the thoughts that had been crossing his mind. “I’m beginning to think that working with only Thach as a middleman may be disadvantageous for us. He’s not a partner, just a dealer. Do we need to share his office?”

“Got a point there. But we shouldn’t make him suspicious.”

“He’ll have no reason to suspect us just because we move out of his place. After all, he’s known from the beginning about our identity.”

“Let’s provoke him on some business matter, then we can assess his response. I mean, that way, he may come to us with the suggestion that we leave.”

“What would provoke him?”

“I can think of something. He’s got only one sore spot.”

With his eyes, Yong Kyu told Toi to go on. He lowered his voice before continuing.

“Let’s pretend we’re rooting out an NLF dealer here in Da Nang.”

Yong Kyu shook his head. “He’s the one who’s supposed to be filling us in on the NLF dealings. We’ve already agreed that I’ll get details on old man Hien’s business and swap the information for his.”

Toi chuckled. “That’s why you’re still green. He may gulp down the whole bird himself and hand you a feather at a time. He can’t fool me, though. His being so curious about old man Hien’s deals is just a feint, a gesture. If he hadn’t said that, he might have succeeded in fooling us. It’s possible that he’s not working for the NLF, but there’s no doubt that he’s making profits through their channels.”

China Beach was not at all crowded, perhaps because it was a weekday. The open theater, where they were showing some trashy TV movie, had a lot of empty seats. No live show was scheduled until Saturday. Colorful posters hailing the arrival of a dance revue from the States had been distributed by the entertainment office of the US Army in Hawaii and were plastered all over the walls of the rec center. The lights were off in the little thatched-roof commissary in front of the theater, but soldiers could be seen playing poker and the slot machines in the bar, a converted barracks, next door. Soldiers were sitting in a line at the bar.

Because it was night, Yong Kyu was in his American jungle fatigues. It was not a good idea for an Asian to be dressed in civilian clothes at night. Rather than sit at the bar he took a chair over by the window where a sea breeze was blowing in. A GI in military-issue pants and a red Hawaiian shirt walked over to the jukebox and dropped a coin in. A trumpet blare was followed by Frank Sinatra singing in a voice that seemed to flow over lustful lips. Yong Kyu bought a can of beer and nursed it slowly. The smell of the ocean wafted in with the wind. Ten after seven. Leon walked in and looked around. After spotting Yong Kyu, he came over and sat down across the table.

“Did you drive?”

“I rented a van.”

“Good, restricted areas are off-limits for me. I came over by the navy bus. Armed?”

“Not at all.”

“Look, even in broad daylight Somdomeh is a dangerous place. I brought my pistol.” Leon pulled a.45 out of his belt and showed it to Yong Kyu.

“If it’s so dangerous, how come Stapley’s been holed up there for days?” Yong Kyu asked.

“That’s easy to answer,” Leon replied. “He’s AWOL, that’s why. Not even the NLF will attack you once you’ve declared your neutrality.”

“I’m sure his friends are also safe. Don’t worry. For these past six months I’ve felt safe even in the jungle. Nothing to fear except the booby traps.”

They went outside. Somdomeh was a vast sprawl of campside villages that had sprung up like mushrooms on both sides of the road leading from China Beach down to the navy hospital and the helicopter pad. All along the road there were shacks in thick clusters, made from iron sheets, plywood, and boxes that had been liberated from the American bases. Makeshift shops selling canned beer and other drinks had brothels in their back rooms. Other shops offered kitschy souvenirs, folk crafts, and gaudy apparel. There was no electricity, so the shacks were dimly lit with candles or kerosene lamps.

Along the road, a few American soldiers who appeared to be either AWOL or on leave from one of the nearby bases were flirting with the prostitutes. The sound of giggles and shrieks filled the air. Used to seeing such spectacles of campside life ever since he was a boy, Yong Kyu found nothing particularly surprising in these displays. Leon seemed tense, with one hand stuck in his belt under his shirt as though he had a firm grip on his gun.

“That’s the house. Pull right up in front.”

Following Leon’s direction, Yong Kyu stopped the car in front of a store with a low metal awning. He shut off the engine and they got out of the van. Leon walked up and started pounding on the door. From inside a woman’s voice was heard, and when Leon said he had come to see the American, the door beneath the awning opened a crack. They bent down and crept inside the shop. A Vietnamese girl was standing with a red candle in her hand. Inside some tables and chairs were neatly arranged and there was a refrigerator in the corner. Someone could be heard approaching from the other end of a dark hall, and Stapley suddenly appeared.