Finally, he began studying the personal effects of Lieutenant William Hines. He picked up the MACV roster and looked at it. He said, "Mr. Vinh observed that a doc.u.ment with American names caused both of you to show some emotion." He read the roster, then looked at me, then at Susan. He said something to her in Vietnamese, and I thought I heard the word dai-uy, captain, and definitely heard a Vietnamese-accented Blake.

Susan nodded.

Colonel Mang had the look of a man who had arrived at the truth. He was pleased with himself, but also a bit agitated, and maybe a little frightened. Like Karl, he could be looking at a general's star, but if he used this knowledge the wrong way and took it to the wrong people in his government, he could wind up stamping visas on the Laotian border for the rest of his life. Or worse.

He looked at me and asked an astute question. "Are you going to protect this man, or expose him?"

I replied, "I was sent here to find and report the truth. I have no control over what happens to this man."

He said to me, "You should have said you were sent here to expose him. I told you I did not like him."

"I know what I should have said. You asked for the truth, and I gave you the truth. Do you want me to start lying again?"

He ignored that and said to us, "Give me your visas."

This was the best news I'd heard in a while, and I gave him my visa. Susan, too, handed over her visa. He didn't bother to ask for our pa.s.sports because all three of us knew that the American emba.s.sy could issue two new pa.s.sports in ten minutes, but without the Vietnamese-issued visas, we were not getting out of this country. But we were were getting out of this building. getting out of this building.

Colonel Mang said something to one of the goons, who left the room. He said to me, "I am going to let you and Miss Weber go to your reception."

I wanted to congratulate him on a wise decision, but I said instead, "When may we expect to get our visas returned?"

"You do not need a visa to be re-arrested, Mr. Brenner."

"I suppose not."

The door opened and the goon returned with a female in uniform. She spoke to Susan in Vietnamese, and Susan let herself be subjected to a pat-down, which seemed to satisfy the requirements of a search without giving Susan too much to talk about at the Amba.s.sador's reception.

It was my turn, and the male goon patted me down.

All we really had on us were our wallets, and Mang examined the contents of both, then threw them on his desk. He said, "Take your wallets and leave."

We both took our wallets and began packing our backpacks.

Mang said, "You know you are not taking any of that."

I said, "We need the personal effects of Lieutenant Hines."

"So do I. Leave."

"I need my airline ticket."

"You have no use for it."

"We need our jackets."

"Leave. Now."

Susan said, "I want my film and camera."

He looked at her, then at me and said, "Your arrogance is absolutely astounding. I give you your life, and you argue with me about what I have taken in exchange for your life."

He had a point, and I took Susan's arm.

He said, "Wait. There is something you can take with you to your party. Take the photographs from the floor."

I could almost hear Susan telling him to go f.u.c.k himself, so I said quickly, "Ms. Weber already sent her set to the commercial attache at the emba.s.sy. Thank you."

He smiled, "And I will send this set to Amba.s.sador and Mrs. Quinn. They should know they are hosting a wh.o.r.e in their house."

Susan smiled sweetly and said, "I'll pa.s.s on your regards to the Interior Minister."

"Thank you. Be sure to tell him that his friend Edward Blake is a murderer and a thief."

I shouldn't have replied, but I said, "You should tell him yourself, Colonel. You have the evidence and you have Tran Van Vinh. But be careful. You have a tiger by the tail."

We made eye contact, and in that brief moment, I think we saw ourselves in each other's faces; we, he and I, America and Vietnam, kept b.u.mping into each other, at all the wrong times, in all the wrong places, and for all the wrong reasons.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT.

The goons escorted us down to the lobby and out the front doors. Susan said something they didn't like, and they said good-bye with a push.

We stood in the dark street a second, then Susan took my hand, and we moved toward a lighted avenue a few blocks away. Susan said, "Why didn't you tell him about the Amba.s.sador's reception sooner?"

"I kept forgetting."

She squeezed my fingers together in a powerful grip and it hurt. She said, "Not funny."

I said, "I don't think the Amba.s.sador's party is what got us out of there. Edward Blake got us out of there."

She didn't reply.

We put some distance between us and the Ministry of Fear, and reached a broad avenue named Pho Tran Hung Pao, which should be renamed.

Susan got her bearings, and we turned right. We pa.s.sed a big, ugly modern building that Susan said was the Cultural Palace, and where a lot of cabs and cyclos were parked. I said, "We should get a taxi."

"I need to walk. It's not far."

We continued down the busy avenue. She took her cigarettes out of her jeans and lit up with a match. She said, "At least he didn't take my smokes."

"He's not that s.a.d.i.s.tic."

We continued along the busy avenue, and because the weather was cool many of the men wore sweaters or heavy sports jackets, and most wore berets or pith helmets. No one was wearing a smile, including me. This place somehow wiped the smile off your face, especially if you'd just come from Yet Kieu Street.

Susan said, "He's got all our evidence. What do you think he's going to do with it?"

"That's the question."

"We go through h.e.l.l to get that stuff, and now he's got it, and he figured it out..." She said to me, "Washington is going to have a fit."

I didn't reply.

She asked me, "So, what's the plan now?"

"I need a drink."

"I'll get you one at the reception."

"Do you really know the Amba.s.sador's wife?"

"I do. I met her twice here in Hanoi, and I went shopping with her and her friends in Saigon, and we went to dinner. Do you play the guitar?"

"I lied. Do you know the Amba.s.sador?"

"I met him in Hanoi at the emba.s.sy once, and at his residence another time."

"Would he remember you?"

"Probably. He hit on me."

"How'd he do?"

"He was doing fine until Bill b.u.t.ted in." She laughed and put her arm through mine. "I can be a handful. But you can handle me."

We came to another wide avenue that Susan recognized, and we turned left and continued walking. We approached a big lake surrounded by parkland and vendors, and people playing chess. On the lighted lake were an a.s.sortment of small boats, and I could see an island in the lake where a paG.o.da stood, topped with a red star. I asked, "Is this the lake where the B-52 bomber is?"

"No. There are lots of lakes in Hanoi. This is the Lake of the Returned Sword."

"Is there a Lake of the Returned Evidence?"

"I don't think so."

We walked along the lake, and Susan asked again, "Paul, what is the plan?"

"Whatever it is, it's my plan."

She didn't respond for a while, then said, "You still don't trust me."

I didn't reply.

"After all we've been through together..."

"That's the point."

She stopped walking, and I stopped and turned to her. We looked at each other, and I could see she was upset. She said to me, "I would and did risk my life for you."

"You did risk your life."

She didn't pursue that and asked me, "Do you really love me?"

"I do, but I don't have to trust you."

"You can't have love without trust."

"That's female bulls.h.i.t. Of course you can. Let's go." I took her arm, and we continued on.

She pulled away from me and said, "I'm going to the hotel. You go to the reception."

This sounded like something from my last three or four relationships. It must be me. I said to her, "I need you there."

"Try again."

"You have the invitation, and you know the way. You know the host and hostess."

"Try again."

"I want you there."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But you you know. Tell me what was supposed to happen tonight." know. Tell me what was supposed to happen tonight."

She didn't answer for a few seconds, then said, "If I made it this far, I was supposed to go to the reception and tell someone whether or not I was successful, and turn over whatever I have."

"Was I supposed to make it this far?"

She thought a moment and replied, "Situation A was we didn't find Tran Van Vinh or we didn't get any evidence. Then you go to Bangkok, and I go back to Saigon. Situation B, we found what we were looking for, but you don't know what it means. You go to Bangkok, I go to Saigon. Situation C, you understand what we discovered, and you're okay with it. You talk it over in Bangkok, I go to Saigon. Situation D is where you want to be a hero and a Boy Scout, and you and I go to Bangkok together. That's the situation now."

I watched the boats racing, or maybe engaging in mock naval battles; it was hard to tell with the Vietnamese.

"Paul?"

I looked at her.

She said, "Of course, it got complicated because I fell in love with you."

"Everyone does. That's Situation E."

"All right. Situation E."

I said to her, "Let's go back to D. What are you supposed to do when I tell you that I'm going to report everything I've found out to my boss, then to the FBI, and to the Justice Department, and to the press, if I have to?"

She didn't reply.