Natalia was too concerned with her own thoughts to notice. ‘He does not know any soldiers, or mercenaries – and he does not have a lot of money. How did he afford to do this?’
‘I dunno. But he’s waiting for you in Da Nang.’
Her face lit up. ‘He is here?’
‘Yeah. And I’ll get you to him. That’s a promise. Once we’re out of this bloody jungle, that is.’
They continued up the slope. Chase checked for any signs that their pursuers were nearby, but there were none, just the constant drone and flutter of insects and the calls of birds. Even though it was still early in the day, the heat was already rising. ‘You told me the people who took me were Russians,’ said Natalia, also thinking about her former captors. ’Do you know what they were doing to me?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘They had you drugged, and they were taking blood samples. But I don’t know what they were looking for, or why they were doing it.’ He glanced at her; the fearful expression, though veiled, had returned. ‘Do you know?’
She clearly did, or at least had an idea, but it was equally obvious that she was unwilling to discuss it. ‘If you don’t want to tell me, that’s not a problem,’ Chase went on, giving her a reassuring smile. ‘My job’s to get you to somewhere safe, that’s all.’
Her only reply was a quiet ‘Thank you.’ Deciding to let her talk again when she was ready, Chase plodded on up the steepening hill.
Before long, brighter daylight flared through the jungle canopy to the north. He angled towards it. The slope flattened out. Ahead, the ground dropped steeply away to reveal the lush green carpet of the rainforest spread out below. The hill was not high, but it was enough to clear the tops of all but the tallest trees.
He took out the map again. Now that he could see the lie of the land, it would not take long to work out their position. However, Natalia had already found a way to speed up the process. ‘Look, over there!’ she said, pointing to the north-east. Chase advanced until he had a clearer view and followed her gaze. There was a higher hilltop around three quarters of a mile away. A spindly tower rose from its summit. He guessed that it had been a radio mast. Decades of neglect had taken its toll, the top crooked and missing parts of its gridwork. ‘The village is about a kilometre from there,’ she continued.
He quickly translated the view to the map’s two-dimensional grid. ‘Okay, that puts us here,’ he said, tapping the paper. ‘If we go, let’s see . . . east across the top of this hill and then follow it down, we can go round the bottom of the hill with the tower and head north to the village.’
‘Wouldn’t it be quicker to get to this road?’ Natalia asked, indicating a thin line running south-east from Ly Quang.
‘Yeah, but I want to stay in the jungle until I’m sure it’s safe. The bad guys’ll still be looking for us.’
Her face fell. ‘Oh. Yes, I see.’
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he said, trying to perk her up. ‘Once we reach the phone, my friends’ll be able to come and get us.’
‘What about my friends? Will they be safe?’
‘They’re probably on their way to Da Nang already. Those people at the camp looked like they were only coming after us.’
That produced mixed emotions. ‘I hope they got away, but . . . that is not good for us, if they want me so badly, is it?’
‘I’ll do everything I can to get you back to your dad,’ he assured the young woman. ‘And the quicker we start moving, the sooner that’ll be.’
They set off across the hilltop. ‘You do not like to keep still, do you, Eddie?’ said Natalia with a half-smile.
‘Sitting around on my arse has never been my thing,’ he said, amused. ‘I like to do stuff, you know? Feel like I’m actually accomplishing something.’
‘I know exactly that feeling,’ she replied. ‘It is one of the reasons why I came to Vietnam – to make a difference, to help. The people in this part of the country are very poor; they cannot afford even simple medicines and vaccinations that can save lives – and there are also after-effects of the war, even now.’ She gestured in the direction of the radio tower, now hidden again behind trees as they began to descend the other side of the hill. ‘The stupid fight between the East and the West brought nothing but misery to the people caught in it. I wanted to do something to make up for it.’
Chase gave her a curious look. ‘Sounds like you take it personally.’ He couldn’t imagine why; she only appeared to be in her early twenties, barely old enough to remember the end of the Cold War.
Natalia shook her head. ‘Not me, but my family. Some of them were involved in things that . . . I do not like.’ She fell silent again.
He decided to let her stay quiet for now. The hill became steeper. He used the rifle as a makeshift walking stick, helping the young blonde down the slippery slope with his other hand.
It took several minutes for them to reach flatter ground. ‘That is better,’ Natalia said with a sigh. She wiped caked mud off one foot, then set off through the trees.
‘Hold on,’ Chase told her as he took out the map. ‘Let me see where we are.’
‘If we go north now, we will get to the hill with the tower,’ she countered as she kept walking. ‘Then if we go around it, we will reach the road, no?’
‘I know, but I want to take the quickest route.’ He used his watch’s hour hand in relation to the direction of the sun to locate north. ‘Okay, so . . . that way.’ He pointed.
Almost directly at Natalia. ‘You see? I was right all along,’ she said, smiling. Chase shot her a sardonic grin and started after her. ‘I told you, I have been here for four months. I have learned some—’
Click!
The sound was metallic, not the crackle of breaking wood.
‘Freeze!’ Chase yelled, trained instinct sending him diving to the ground even before the cry fully left his lips. ‘Don’t move! Whatever you do, do not move!’
A muted sound of pain escaped through Natalia’s clenched teeth. She had started to lift her foot – but froze on his shout, forcing herself to hold still. Chase raised his head. Something was poking through the mud and rotten leaves, grubby metal visible beneath the young woman’s sole.
Three narrow prongs jutting up from a dull green cylinder. The trigger and fuse assembly of a landmine.
‘Stay still, stay very still,’ Chase warned. He put down the gun, then crawled towards her. He recognised the particular type of weapon as he drew closer: an American M16A2 ‘Bouncing Betty’. Hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of similar mines had been laid during the Vietnam War, strewn throughout the jungles to hinder and kill the Viet Cong.
Many were still there. And still deadly.
Suddenly sweating, and not from the rising heat, Chase reached Natalia and examined the weapon. His SAS training had included mine defusal; the Bouncing Betty had been one of the types covered. He knew that, in theory, he could render it harmless fairly simply.
In theory.
In tropical conditions, an M16A2 had a life expectancy of twelve years. The Vietnam War had ended in 1975, so even if this particular mine had been laid on the very last day of the conflict, it was nineteen years beyond that. Time might have rendered it inert, moving parts rusted and clogged with mud, its explosive charge of tetryl broken down by microbes in the soil.
Or . . . it could have become so unstable that a hard jolt would detonate it.
Natalia whimpered again, from pain rather than fear. One of the prongs was digging deeply into her foot. There was no blood, so it had not broken the skin, but she didn’t dare pull away. ‘What is it?’ she whispered.
Chase looked up at her. ‘Natalia, I need you to stay calm, and keep very still. Okay? Promise me you’ll do that.’
‘I will,’ she managed to say.
‘Good.’ He kept his gaze locked on hers. ‘You’ve stepped on a landmine. Keep calm, stay calm,’ he added as she tensed. ‘It’s not working properly, otherwise it would have already gone off. It’s called a Boun
cing Betty – it’s meant to spring up in the air and explode after someone steps on it, but even if they keep their foot on it, it’ll still blow up. This one hasn’t, so the fuse is probably jammed ’cause it’s so old. But if you move your foot, it might still go off – unless I defuse it.’
‘Can – can you do that?’ Her voice was trembling.
‘Yeah. I can. I know it hurts, but stay still.’ He finally broke eye contact, bringing his head right up to the mine and gently blowing damp leaves away from the fuse.
A small metal ring protruded from its side. If the weapon had been rigged to explode when a tripwire was pulled, the line would run through the ring, but there was no sign of one. That meant it was pressure-detonated. Natalia’s footstep had triggered it – and now her weight was all that was holding it in check.
But was it a dud . . . or would any movement finally set it off?
He didn’t know. All he could do was try to recall his training. ‘Okay,’ he said, speaking as much to keep Natalia’s mind occupied as to focus his own thoughts, ‘I know how to defuse it. There’s a little hole where the safety pin went.’ With great care, he used the tip of his smallest finger to brush dirt away from the fuse assembly, revealing a small circular opening in the side of a metal protrusion between the three prongs. ‘I’ll need to put something in it.’
A twig? No, too thick. It would have to be a piece of wire or similar, but where would he find one in the middle of the jungle? There was nothing in his gear—
Wait – there was. The radio headset. Its connecting plug was too large to fit the hole, but the wire itself . . .
‘Keep still, I’m going to get up for a minute,’ he warned. Natalia nodded. Chase moved back, then carefully rose to his knees. He pulled off the headset and used his thumb and forefinger to give the plastic-sheathed wire an experimental crimp. It seemed to hold its new shape.
With a nod of reassurance to the German, he took out his Swiss Army knife and unfolded the scissors to snip a short length of wire. He then got back down on his belly to begin his work.
Right away he saw there was going to be a problem. ‘Natalia, I need you to keep still,’ he said. Her foot – no, her whole body – was quivering. The prongs flexed under her weight.
‘I’m trying,’ she said, voice strained. ‘But my foot is hurting – and my leg is shaking. I cannot stop it.’
‘All right, okay. Er . . . where are you from?’
She was surprised. ‘What?’
‘Tell me about yourself, it’ll help you stay calm. Where are you from?’
‘Uh . . . I am from Hamburg.’
Chase waited a few seconds, but she said nothing more, and her shakes were not subsiding. ‘I’ve never been there. Nice place?’ he prompted.
‘Yes, it is a beautiful city.’
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘No, there is only me.’
The trembling subsided, slightly. Chase took that as a good sign and started the delicate task of sliding the wire into the hole. ‘I’ve met your dad – what about your mum? Does she live there too?’
‘No, she . . .’ Sadness replaced fear in her tone. ‘She died, a few years ago. From cancer.’
‘I’m sorry. My mum died of cancer too.’
‘I am sorry,’ Natalia echoed. Another silence followed, but this time she broke it without prompting. ‘My grandmother died from cancer also. She was Russian, she came to Germany in 1961.’
‘What, she got out of Russia?’ The wire was almost in the hole, but Natalia’s shuddering was making the mine wobble. Chase used his other hand to brace the device.
‘Yes. She was actually supposed to be taken to America with my grandfather, but . . .’
‘But what?’
There was an odd – hardness? Bitterness? – to her words. ‘He did not make it out of Russia. So my grandmother did not go any further than West Germany. My mother was born there a few months later.’
‘Well, at least she made it to the right side of the wall.’ The wire finally slipped into the hole. It was a tight fit; he slowly applied pressure to push it in deeper. ‘West Germany sounded a better place to grow up than East Germany.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘You don’t sound too sure.’
‘East and West – they are both bad, in different ways. Not the people,’ she quickly added, ‘but the politicians, those in charge.’
‘Can’t argue with that too much.’ The wire gradually disappeared into the hole. Chase kept pushing – but another thought had come to him. ‘So . . . your grandparents were Russians? You think there’s any connection to those Russians at the camp?’
Natalia drew in a breath, as if about to make a confession—
Click.
A much softer sound than before, accompanied by a tiny but discernible amount of resistance that Chase felt through the wire. According to his training, the fuse should have been deactivated.
Should have – but then the mine should have exploded a couple of seconds after Natalia stepped on it. Its safety features might be as faulty as its detonator. He withdrew his finger. The wire stayed in place.
‘Okay, Natalia,’ he said. ‘When I count to three, I want you to very slowly lift up your foot. Are you ready?’
The reply was barely even a whisper. ‘Yes.’
‘Right. Now, one, two . . . three.’
She hesitated – then raised her leg.
The spring-loaded prongs rose back into position . . . and stopped. No sounds came from inside the mine’s casing.
It was safe.
An explosion did come, though – from Chase. ‘Fuck! Buggering fuck-bollocks arse and shit!’ he cried, pent-up tension finding release. ‘Fuck. Ing. Hell! God, I hate mines.’
Natalia still had one foot raised, balancing like a flamingo. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Yeah, it’s safe. You can put your foot down now.’
She did so – and began to cry. ‘I’m sorry. I should have been more careful . . .’
Chase bent the end of the wire to hold it in place, then unscrewed the fuse from the mine’s body and carefully lifted it out. The metal was scabbed with rust; the trigger had jammed. ‘Hey, it’s not your fault, okay? Blame whichever arsehole dumped millions of mines in the jungle and then forgot where they put ’em.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I should have known. When I was at Ly Quang, they warned us not to go too far into the jungle. One of the boys in the village lost a leg last year to an old mine.’
‘The Yanks probably planted them to protect the radio tower.’ He put down the fuse and sat up. ‘This one should be safe now, though.’
Natalia wiped her eyes. ‘Should be? Is there still a danger?’
‘Depends how unstable the explosive is. It might have totally broken down by now, or it might go off if it takes a hard knock.’
‘We cannot leave it like this, then. Another child from the village may set it off. Can you make it blow up from a safe distance?’
‘Yeah – but a bang like that’ll be heard for miles. The people who’re after us’ll know where we are. We’ll just have to tell your friends in the village to watch out for it.’
‘But we do not know exactly where we are!’ she protested. ‘The Vietnamese government has people who destroy mines when they are found, but they need to know their precise location.’ She thought for a moment. ‘If we take it with us, we can leave it near the village so it can be found and destroyed safely.’
Chase stared at her. ‘You want me to pick up a landmine.’
‘Yes.’
‘And carry it through the jungle.’
‘Yes.’
‘While bad guys are still after us.’
‘That is not a good idea, is it?’
‘Nope. But,’ he went on, ‘you’ve got a point. We’re not that far from the village, so there’s a chance someone else might find it.’ Another reason for taking the mine had occurred to him: if their pursuers found them again, it w
ould give him an extra weapon – however dangerous – with which to fight them. For obvious reasons, he kept this to himself. ‘So long as we’re careful, we should be okay. The explosive in these mines can get unstable, but it’s not like nitroglycerine or something – it takes more than just a tap to set it off.’
He bent down again and gently scooped the earth away from the mine’s casing. There was a chance it could have been booby-trapped – a Vietnam-era tactic was to bury a live grenade beneath a Bouncing Betty so that if the mine were moved the hidden bomb would go off – but it didn’t take long to confirm that had not been done here. A deep breath . . . then he raised the weapon out of the ground.
‘Well, we’re still here,’ Chase announced after a moment. Natalia let out a nervous giggle. ‘Okay, I’ll carry it. You take the gun.’ Her expression changed to one of concern, or even disgust. ‘What?’
‘I am a pacifist,’ she said, regarding the Kalashnikov on the ground as if it were a venomous snake. ‘I do not want anything to do with guns.’
‘You want to carry the mine instead?’ Seeing that she did not appreciate his sarcasm, he softened slightly. ‘Look, it’s okay – it’s got no magazine, and the safety’s on. Even if you pull the trigger, it won’t fire.’
‘It is not about whether it can fire. It is about what it was built to do. To kill people. I do not want anything to do with weapons of war.’ Her resolve belonged to a much older and more world-weary person.
Chase’s own view on the subject boiled down to some people just deserve to be shot, but this was something else he opted to keep to himself. ‘Okay, I’ll take ’em both,’ he told her. ‘I won’t be able to carry you if you have trouble with your foot, though.’
She nodded. ‘Okay. I did not mean to insult you,’ she added, suddenly apologetic. ‘You are a soldier, you use weapons as part of what you do. But it . . . it is not for me. I only ever want to help people, not do anything to hurt them. I hope you understand that.’
‘Yeah, I do.’ He smiled at her; she seemed a little surprised by his ready acceptance. ‘What? I want to help people too, and it’s not like I go out of my way to hurt anyone. Only an idiot, or a psycho, actually looks for a fight. It’s just that sometimes, people do bad stuff and, well . . . a stern letter isn’t going to stop ’em.’