We arrived at the Grand without any further conversation.

At the front desk, there was a fax for Susan on Bank of America letterhead. I said, "Maybe your cyclo loan has been approved."

She read the fax and handed it to me. It was from Bill, of course, and it read: Washington firm absolutely insists that you return to Saigon as soon as possible. They need to talk with you via e-mail. On a personal note, I would have no objection if you wanted to come to the Vincents' party, Tet Eve. We can be civilized about this, and perhaps discuss our relationship, if any. Need a full response. Washington firm absolutely insists that you return to Saigon as soon as possible. They need to talk with you via e-mail. On a personal note, I would have no objection if you wanted to come to the Vincents' party, Tet Eve. We can be civilized about this, and perhaps discuss our relationship, if any. Need a full response.

I handed the fax back to her.

She said to me, "It's your decision now, Paul. These are your bosses."

I said, "This is directed to you, not me."

"Oh. Well, I have no bosses in Washington. I did the favor for the American consulate in Saigon. End of story."

I wasn't so sure of that, but I said, "Fax Bill that you're going with me to Hue."

She got a piece of fax paper from the desk clerk and wrote on it. She handed it to me, and I read: Mr. Brenner and I are headed to Hue. Inform his firm of same. Will return to Saigon sometime week after next. Regards to the Vincents from me, and my regrets. Mr. Brenner and I are headed to Hue. Inform his firm of same. Will return to Saigon sometime week after next. Regards to the Vincents from me, and my regrets.

Susan went into a small back room with the desk clerk and came out a few minutes later. She said to me, "I told the desk clerk we were checking out today, and we needed a taxi in half an hour to take you to the bus station and me to the train station."

We climbed the stairs, and I said, "Dress for adventure."

We were downstairs in the lobby at noon, both dressed in blue jeans, polo shirts, and walking shoes. We checked out, and Susan led me into the dining room. We found Lucy waiting on tables on the veranda, and Susan pressed some money into her hands. The old woman thanked us profusely. She said something to Susan, who said to me, "She said she doesn't remember you, but she remembers the American soldiers who were... very high-spirited and... crazy, but who were always kind to her. She wishes us a safe journey."

"Tell her I will always remember the kindness and the patience of the young ladies here who made our time away from the war so pleasant."

Susan translated, the old woman bowed, then we held each other's shoulders and kissed, French-style, both cheeks.

We went back to the lobby, got our bags, and went outside, where a taxi was waiting for us.

Susan said, "That was very nice. What you said to each other."

"We're old friends. We went through a war together."

The driver put our bags in the trunk and off we went.

BOOK IV.

Highway One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

The taxi from the hotel dropped Susan off at the train station first, then me at the bus terminal.

I went into the terminal, then back outside and took a taxi to the Thong Nhat Hotel on the beach. I left my luggage with the bell captain, and went to the terrace and got a table. Within five minutes, Susan joined me.

We had some hours to kill before we needed to be at Slicky Boy Tours, and this was as good a place as any and wouldn't attract attention. The clientele was all Western, and no one from the Ministry of Public Security was dining there.

Susan and I had lunch.

I asked her, "Why are you taking this trip with me?"

"I don't want to go back to Saigon."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather be with you."

"Why?"

"Well... you might think it's because I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, or you might think it's because I'm bored and I want some excitement, or you might think it's because I'm crazy about you."

"I had all three thoughts."

She smiled and said, "Pick the ones that suit you best. But no more than two."

I thought about that and said, "The ones that suit me best are the first two because if something happened to you because of the last one, I'd never forgive myself."

She lit a cigarette and stared out at the fishing boats coming out of the river into the sea. She said, "I don't want you to feel responsible for my safety. I can take care of myself."

"Okay. But even in the infantry, we had the buddy system. Two guys who looked out for each other."

"Did you ever lose a buddy?"

"Two of them."

She didn't reply for a long time, then asked, "Did you ever save a buddy's life?"

"A few times."

"Anyone ever save your life?"

"A few times."

She said, "So, we'll look out for each other, and we'll do the best we can."

I didn't reply.

She said, "But if you're going into the interior after you leave Hue, a male Caucasian traveling alone attracts attention."

"I understand that. And I will be traveling alone."

She continued, "As I said in the Q-Bar, you should try to pa.s.s yourself off as a naturalist, or an amateur biologist. If you were being watched here in Nha Trang, you've already shown some interest in biology at the Oceanographic Inst.i.tute."

I looked at her, but didn't say anything.

"And you'll really need an interpreter. It's very difficult without an interpreter once you get away from the coast."

I said, "I didn't have an interpreter the last two times I was here. I'm good at making myself understood."

"I'm sure you were when you had a rifle."

"Point made. I'll get an interpreter. They may have someone for me in Hue."

She didn't reply for a while, then said, "They haven't given you much backup so far."

"That's because they have complete trust and confidence in me. I'm very resourceful."

"I see that. But you can't be sleeping with bilingual women all the way up country."

I smiled and said, "You're not coming with me past Hue."

At 5:30, I left the hotel terrace and walked to Slicky Boy Tours on Van Hoa Street, a few blocks away. Susan stayed to settle the bill and was to follow within ten minutes.

Slicky Boy was still wearing his wraparound shades, and a phony smile. His front teeth were rimmed in gold, and he had a diamond stud in his ear. The only thing missing was a T-shirt that said Con Artist Con Artist.

Susan had informed me that his real name was Mr. Thuc, and I greeted him by this name. He spoke a little English and asked me, "Where you lady?"

I replied, "Not my lady. Maybe she come. Maybe not."

He said, "Same price."

"Where's my car?"

"Come. I show you."

We went outside. Parked in his little mini-bus lot was a dark blue Nissan rice burner with four-wheel drive and four doors. I didn't recognize the model, but Mr. Thuc a.s.sured me, "Good car."

I examined good car and saw that it had no seat belts, but the tires looked okay, and there was a spare.

It was almost six hundred kilometers to Hue, according to Susan. This should take less than six hours on a decent road, but if the estimated drive time was seven or eight hours on Highway One, then Highway One was in much worse shape then I remembered it in 1968, when the Army Corps of Engineers was in charge of the roadwork.

There were no keys in the ignition, so I asked Slicky for the keys, and he gave them to me reluctantly. I sat in the driver's seat and started the engine, which sounded all right, but there was only a quarter tank of fuel. That may not mean anything, but might mean that Slicky Boy had a shorter trip planned for us.

I popped the hood, got out, and checked the engine, which was a small four-cylinder, but seemed okay. I asked Slicky, "Where's the driver?"

"He come."

I shut off the engine and kept the keys. I looked at my watch and saw that fifteen minutes had already pa.s.sed since I left Susan. Just as I was starting to worry about her, she showed up in a cyclo. She was wearing her backpack and carrying her new tote.

She exchanged greetings with Slicky Boy, and shook my hand as if we were recent acquaintances who had arranged to share a ride. This had been my idea, and even I was impressed by my tradecraft. James Bond would be proud of me.

Susan asked, "Is that our car?"

"That's it." I took her aside and said, "Quarter tank of gas. And check the radio antenna."

She glanced at the antenna, where an orange plastic strip had been tied. "Sort of makes it stand out from all the other dark blue Nissan four-wheels."

She looked into the rear compartment and said to me, "No gas cans, which are standard for a long drive, and no ice chest, which is a common courtesy in 'Nam."

Slicky Boy was looking our way, but with the wraparound shades, I couldn't tell if he was getting as suspicious of us as we were of him. This was not Hertz.

The driver showed up, on foot, a guy of about forty. He wore black cotton pants and a white short-sleeve shirt, like half the men in this country. He also wore sandals and needed a pedicure. He was a little hefty for a Viet, and seemed to me a bit nervous.

Mr. Thuc introduced us to Mr. Cam, and we all shook hands. Mr. Thuc said to us, "Mr. Cam speak no English, and I tell him lady speak good Vietnamese." Mr. Thuc checked his watch and said, "Okay? You pay now."

I counted out a hundred and fifty dollars and said to Slicky Boy, "Half now, half to Mr. Cam when we arrive in Hue." I put the money in his shirt pocket.

"No, no. All now."

"Am I in Hue? Is this Hue?" I opened the rear hatch of the Nissan and threw my bags inside. Susan put her backpack in, and I closed the hatch.

Slicky Boy was p.i.s.sed, but he calmed himself down. He said, conversationally, "So, where Mr. Cam take you in Hue?"

I replied, "I think we told you. Hue"Phu Bai Airport."

"Yes? Where you go?"

"Hanoi."

"Ah." He looked around, the way people do in a police state, and informed me, "Too many Communists in Hanoi."

"Too many capitalists here."

"Yes?" He said to Susan and me, "Need you pa.s.sport and visa. I make copies."

Well, we really didn't want Slicky Boy to know our names, so I said to him, "No."

Slicky started complaining about us not showing identification, and not paying in full, and not trusting him.

I said to him, "You want to make three hundred bucks, or do you want to be an a.s.shole?"

"Please?"

Susan translated, and I wondered what the word was for a.s.shole. She said to me, "Calm down."

I said to Susan, "Let's go. We'll find another car and driver." I plucked the cash out of Slicky's pocket and opened the rear hatch.

He looked shocked, and his mouth dropped open. He said, "Okay. Okay. No pa.s.sport. No visa."