Black Market by Donald E. Zlotnik Page B

Woods saluted when the officer neared the pad. “Morning sir.”
    Youngbloode returned the salute. “Morning, sergeants.” He reached up and touched the strobe light that had been attached and
     then taped to his web gear harness. “I like these … a good idea, Sergeant Arnason.”
    “Thanks sir.”
    “Where are the rest of the men?” Youngbloode could see the gear lined up on the steel planking.
    “Over there.” He nodded. “They’ll be back in a minute.”
    “There has been a slight change of plans…” Youngbloode looked up at the arriving choppers and raised his voice so that the
     sergeants could hear him. “We’re going to land at Due Co, instead of inserting directly in our AO…” The noise from the chopper
     engines drowned him out.
    Arnason looked over at Woods and shrugged his shoulders. The change in orders was odd, but not uncommon. He pointed at Kirkpatrick
     and then at the second chopper that had landed.
    Kirkpatrick leaned forward and stood up. He had been pissed the whole time since he had returned from R and R and found out
     that he would be going to the field the next day. If he could have screwed off just a couple of extra hours in Saigon, he
     would have arrived too late for the STABO rig training and would have missed the mission. It wasn’t fucking fair! His cock
     was still sore from all the activity it had had in Bangkok. Kirkpatrick slipped in backward on the chopper floor and sat with
     his legs dangling out on the struts. He glared at Arnason, but the effect was lost through the camouflage makeup.
    The three replacements came running up to their gear wearing sheepish looks. Their embarrassment was hidden also by the black,
     green, and tan makeup they wore. Arnason directed each one of them to the chopper he wanted them riding in and then looked
     over at the captain and nodded. They broke up with Woods riding in one of the choppers and Youngbloode and Arnason in the
     other.
    Warner sat in the open door with his feet dangling in the air current created by the chopper. The cool air felt good after
     the heat coming up from the steel helipad. He was thankful for the camouflage paint on his face because he knew the fear struggling
     to bust out inside of him was reflected there. It had been all fun and games going through infantry training and then the
     Special Forces RECONDO School, but this was the real thing: he was going into combat. Arnason didn’t have time to tell him
     or the other new men that they had had a change of plans and would be landing at an American-controlled base camp.
    The pair of helicopters used Highway 19 as a guide for their flight out to Due Co, which was due west of the An Khe base camp.
     The highway was open and was filled with olive drab trucks. Periodically a platoon of M-48 tanks would appear alongside the
     road or a platoon of ACAVs with infantry in their day lager positions as they guarded the convoys using the road during the
     day. At night the tanks and ACAVs would pull back into their bases.
    The flight was shorter than the three replacements wanted it to be. Woods leaned over and cupped his hands around Warner’s
     ear. “We’re landing at a Special Forces camp! Tell Koski and Sanchez!”
    Warner nodded and took a deep breath of relief. He passed the word to the other men and then for the first time since he had
     gotten on the chopper, he leaned back against his pack and relaxed to enjoy the scenery passing below his feet. Vietnam was
     a beautiful country, if you were flying in the right helicopter.
    The choppers were greeted on the long runway by the Green Beret camp commander who escorted the team into the briefing room
     of the teamhouse.
    “Thanks for coming out here to help us.” The captain nodded at Youngbloode. “We’ve got a little internal problem in this camp.
     There are NVA spies who have a way of finding out where we’re going to patrol and either avoid us altogether, or they attack
     and kick our ass.”
    Arnason