Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

These words from Yong Kyu left Pig downcast and the backtalk ceased. The Jeep sped along the main roads of Da Nang and they pulled up to the police station. Pig wouldn’t get out of the car.

“It’d be better for you to come on out,” Yong Kyu warned.

“I see no reason why I should. This is a police station, isn’t it? I’m a foreign civilian in this country.”

Pig refused to budge and so Yong Kyu nodded, saying, “Fine. If you want to be difficult, I’ll force you out. You’re under our jurisdiction and you’re supposed to observe the domestic laws in Vietnam.”

Yong Kyu didn’t lift a finger. Instead he called over to Toi, “Hey, get the Vietnamese police and have them put him in the lockup.”

Toi went in the front door and before long two policemen hurried out. They held Pig by the arms and dragged him out of the car. Savagely they twisted his arms behind his back and pushed him forward. The police officer in charge of the night watch came out to observe. Yong Kyu and the chief sergeant exchanged salutes with him.

“The superintendent gave us an order to cooperate,” the officer said. “Do you need an office, sir?”

“No, thank you. Around seven this morning we’ll be bringing in a few more. Then we’ll request an office when tomorrow’s duty begins. Will you sign this receipt for taking over custody of this detainee?”

Pig looked dispirited and was docile by the time they took him inside. After finishing the procedure for transfer of custody they left the police station.

“Well, the night’s almost over,” said the chief sergeant. “It’s five-fifteen, doesn’t the operation begin at six?”

“Let’s head back to the hotel. We’ll hang around there and wake up the captain.” Then he asked Toi, “Wouldn’t you rather go home and get some rest?”

“No, I’ll work, too. When we’re done, I’ll go home and take the whole morning to rest. That way I can ask the captain for an extra duty allowance.”

They drove the Jeep down Doc Lap Boulevard and arrived at the hotel. Staff who had just come in to relieve the night shift were milling around the lobby drinking coffee. They joined this group and drank coffee from paper cups. About half the people in the lobby were civilian and the other half military. Out on the street a good number of Jeeps and cars were being started and noisily pulling out. At ten to six the chief sergeant went upstairs to roust the captain. The two of them came down with two privates in tow, the captain still rubbing his sleepy eyes. All four were dressed in jungle fatigues and the two privates were carrying M16s and cartridge belts.

“Do we have an extra vehicle?”

“Yes, sir. But don’t you think we’ll need a couple more cars?”

“No, one’s enough. We’ll only be arresting four people.”

When Yong Kyu asked who they were, the captain replied, “Lieutenant Colonel Pak, the guy with a crew cut, another of our bastards, and one Vietnamese.”

To this the chief sergeant added, “The crew cut is the group chairman’s right arm. His name is Lee, discharged from the service as a master sergeant. The third man is the chairman’s brother-in-law, and the Vietnamese is Phan, their chauffeur who also acts as a broker for contacts with the dealers in the city. Toi knows all about it.”

They split up into two teams and started off in Jeeps with Philco markings. The captain and the sergeant left first with the two privates. Yong Kyu and Toi followed. They went down Le Loi Boulevard and entered the residential district off Puohung Street. They stopped in front of the house with the low wooden fence where they had left a man on stakeout the night before. The private jumped out from behind the reed screen. He had a poncho over his shoulder.

“Anything happen?” Yong Kyu asked.

“No, sir. A wagon left the house before dawn and then came back. Since then there have been no lights on. Looks like everybody is asleep.”

“Well, let’s go,” the captain said. All together there were seven of them. They crossed the street and approached the white wrought-iron gate of the house.

“You stay here and keep a lookout for anybody who tries to jump the wall,” the captain said to one private. “Wait a second, the warehouse is on this side and the house is over there? Somebody has to go over the wall and open the side gate.”

The captain turned to Yong Kyu. “What happened to your arm? Did you get hurt?”

“Bitten by a dog. Last night during the ambush.”

“Went through a lot, didn’t you? Hey, Chief Sergeant, you climb over.”

The sergeant gave the captain a dirty look behind his back and then reluctantly put his hands up on the wall and struggled trying to climb over it.

“Give it up. And stop eating so much. If you were in the US Army they’d have drummed you out for being overweight.”

Yong Kyu said something to Toi and without a second thought Toi stepped up on the chief sergeant’s shoulders and leapt lightly over the wall. The side gate opened and they all crouched down and entered quietly one at a time. The yard was smoothly paved over with cement. Every now and then a drop of water fell from the wet leaves overhead.

“Let Toi watch the warehouse and the rest of us will go on in.”

They walked toward the front foyer. The captain and the chief sergeant stayed behind and Yong Kyu stood in front of the entry with the armed soldiers behind him. The private who had been on stakeout across the street was sent to the rear of the house lest gang members try to escape through a back window. At the captain’s nod, Yong Kyu knocked on the door. A door opening was heard from within and then someone came to the door and said something in Vietnamese. Without replying, Yong Kyu knocked harder. Someone else must have come out inside, for there was another sound of a door opening followed by a voice in English.

“Who’s there?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Pak, the chairman. Open the door.”

With a click the door was unlatched and instantly Yong Kyu pushed it open and forced his way inside. A long-haired Vietnamese woman and the Korean youth, who had to be the brother-in-law of Lieutenant Colonel Pak, stumbled backward. They pressed on into the living room, where Chairman Pak and his crew-cut associate, dressed in pajamas, were peeking out from their rooms to see what was happening.

“Out here, both of you,” the captain said.

“What’s all this? What d’you think you’re doing?” Pak asked the captain as he came into the living room.

“Can’t you see? We’re searching the house.”

“A search? What crime have we committed? And you don’t even have a search warrant.”

“Warrant, my ass. There’s a war on here, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re going to deport you for your black marketing,” the captain said, then added to Yong Kyu, “Hey, go through every room with a fine-toothed comb.”

Chairman Pak nonchalantly lit a cigarette and then sat down on the sofa.

“What’s the meaning of this? Captain Kim, why are you barging in here like this?”

“Why do you think I’m doing it? And show a little respect when you speak to me. You’ve been wolfing down more than enough up to now. We know all the details of your dealing connections. Just because we pretended not to notice doesn’t mean we’re a bunch of scarecrows. We were just watching to see how far you would go.”

“You’re asking for trouble, do you know that? Most of your superiors are classmates of mine.”

“Oh yeah? Wake up. I’m on active duty and you’re in the reserves. Maybe you think we’ve come all the way to Vietnam to help out with your business so you can make money? Better come with us.”

“Hey, I paid for all the goods. To be honest, I was working with your man, the chief sergeant. OK, I’ll wash my hands, but why come down on me all of a sudden? We know you guys work hard and we were about to show our appreciation, you know. We’ve got to make a living together, am I right?”