The Worth of Souls Read online

  Within 2 hours, a twin-bladed CH-46 would be arriving at the recently determined pick-up location to provide transportation for the SEAL Team and to transport not one, but 7 very happy girls as well as Fang and Mei-Li to a destination far different than where they’d been before. The USS Tripoli (LPH-10) was steaming off shore less than an hour’s helo ride from the recovery site.

  The key issue was to “capture” Fang, Mei-Li and the 7 young ladies preferably without bloodshed and potential injury to the SEAL’s or to their precious ‘cargo.’

  A large Mercedes cargo van backed into the compound. The nine passengers boarded with a bit of help from Quyen’s men and the two prison matrons. Within 30 minutes they were off. Fang sat in the cab between two of Quyen’s men.

  Once the SEALS transmitted their pick-up request, they all headed for the scheduled rendezvous point. The first six men had departed earlier to set up the roadblock. It would not take long to delay the vehicle using some det cord, C-4 and a few indigenous trees. The C-4 was set to blast a couple of large craters in the road and the det cord had been arranged around the trunks of the trees.

  The trap site included a 20-inch culvert which no doubt Quyen Phuc had put into the road to potentially prevent a washout during the monsoon season. Blasting it would provide a huge hole in the road that would trap the truck once it passed so that help could not reach the stranded vehicle.

  Two large trees would be toppled to stop the truck initially and to prevent the vehicle from turning around. One tree was in front of the truck’s path. Once the truck was stopped, another tree would be toppled to stop any escape. The trap had been designed to keep any additional help from rescuing the truck or its occupants. It would be hours before the vehicle could be reached through the jungle. Once again, Spoke provided a plan that would provide benefits for all.

  The reason for staging a kidnapping was so that Quyen Phuc would think his operation had a competitor trying to beat him out of his girls. He certainly could not go to the police nor would he follow the kidnappers if he thought someone was going to kill him or his men. He would instead let his spies tell him who had sabotaged his operation. He could take care of that score later. At least that is what Bee and Spoke were counting on. A little hate and discontent in Paradise would be good for these wretched men that ruined the lives of so many innocent children.

  1800, East of Satahip, Thailand

  The truck made its way slowly, but steadily, down the road. This close to the equator, nightfall would quickly follow sunset. Sunset was about 1845.

  The explosive charges were set and the first tree felled. The culvert was readied for its violent end once the truck passed and continued about a half mile down the road. The second tree was “decorated” with det cord and readied for the truck to stop. Men waited, anxious to destroy the egress of the crew and their vehicle.

  The location had been chosen two days ago because of the area large enough to land the CH-46. There had been a couple of small palm trees that had to be removed with hand saws, but they’d proved to be easy enough to bring down. Explosives would have been easier, but less reliable than elbow grease. Besides they didn’t want to alert anyone in the area that they were there.

  Only three men were sent to drive the ‘cargo.’ One waited in the back with his 9mm Scorpion machine pistol. The other two were in the cab. Fang sat between the men, his revolver in his pocket held in readiness. He’d not displayed the weapon, and since he’d arrived with Quyen Phuc, it was assumed he was friendly to their cause. Because both the heat and humidity were oppressive, the canvas sides of the truck had been rolled up. Thank heavens for that since it made spotting the guard much easier.

  The truck bounced and rolled down the road. Quyen kept the road in relatively good shape, but like everything in the jungle, ‘good shape’ was a relative term. The truck finally passed the culvert. The last member of the team waited patiently as the truck bumbled past him. Two minutes later he blew the culvert. Dirt and rocks cascaded from the sky. The resulting hole was about five feet across and some three feet deep and crossed the entire road. They had used rocks and other debris to block the ends of the culvert, so the culvert acted like a pipe bomb.

  The reception committee watched the truck’s headlights meet the tree. As soon as the brakes were applied, the second tree was blown. Like the first one, it fell right across the road behind the truck.

  Children screamed. Men jumped out of the truck. Fang followed the crew in the cab. The driver went toward the nose of the truck, the other man headed for the rear. Fang watched the driver and dispatched him with one well-placed shot from his .357. The second man joined up with his buddy climbing out of the back. Fang moved behind both of them and two shots later had the other two men down.

  Immediately, Fang and Mei-Li went to console the frightened girls who’d been screaming loudly. Quickly Bee and Spoke moved to Fang’s side and motioned with hand signals to gather the girls and move them to the helo landing zone. Light was fading rather quickly and the helo would only get one chance to land. Take off would straight forward, but landing was the critical issue.

  The sounds of the twin-rotored CH-46 quickly enveloped them sending debris and foliage swirling around them. The hand flares ignited a rough circle that gave the helo a place to land.

  Once down, the SEAL’s organized and quickly loaded the girls and cargo into the helo. Within two minutes, all had been loaded and they were airborne.

  Fang and Mei-Li hugged Spoke. The noise in the helo was loud and they knew they would have a chance to talk once they’d reached the USS Tripoli. The vibrations of the two rotors made writing difficult, but Spoke wrote a very brief note. His message was simple, but searching. “Lian-Na?”

  The response and nod were equally terse, “Yes.”

  Mei-Li hugged the girls near her, one of which was Patty Stephens, the other Mary Louise Duke. Their nightmares would continue for a while but would eventually disappear. Since the girls appeared to be the least traumatized, their recovery, while long would be less than those facing longer-use narcotics withdrawals.

  Chapter 26

  Tripoli and Bravo Zulu

  Approx 2000, 240 miles SSE of Satahip, Thailand in the Gulf of Thailand

  About an hour later, they touched down on the deck of the USS Tripoli. Once the CH-46 was “feet wet” they were met and escorted to the ship by two Bell AH-1 Cobra gunship helos.

  Once on deck, medical teams had been organized to respond and quickly removed the civilians. Since the SEAL’s were not traumatized in any way, they would be second in the order of triage.

  At that point they began to catalog their freed captives. Five young girls were from North America, one from the Philippines, and one from Hong Kong. All of them were suffering from severe dehydration. Their addictive behaviors indicated they were already in various states of heroin withdrawal.

  The medics carefully reassured the girls they were in good hands and that no one would hurt them. Two doctors on Tripoli carefully examined the girls. Patty Stevens and Mary Louise Duke received special care. As the daughters of U.S. politicians, one a member of Congress, they were given significant attention.

  The other girls were given good care, but it was apparent the first two off the ship would be Patty and Mary Louise. Each girl regarded her rescuers with a combination of fear and concern.

  Spoke took Fang and Mei-Li aside.

  “Tell me about Lian-Na.”

  Mei-Li began crying seemingly more from exhaustion than from emotion. Fang quietly motioned that he would tell him in a less congested location. Spoke understood completely from the reaction of Mei-Li.

  With their “Unescorted Visitor” badges, Spoke asked one of the corpsmen where the ship’s lounge was. He indicated that he needed to debrief these civilians away from the noise and confusion in the hangar deck. He was directed down the ladder to a small, but well-appointed lounge farther forward of the control island on the ship and a deck lower.

  They sat
and Fang relayed the story of their experience. He did his best to keep the details as neutral as possible. Mei-Li again began to sob the gut-wrenching sobs of someone deeply affected.

  Fang motioned and asked that she would best be served if she could rest. Their quarters were below them adjacent to the hospital. They had been placed there to assist with language translations for the girls if needed. Fang asked politely to be excused and led her out.

  Spoke sat amazed that some of his closest friends could be so affected and yet be so strong. He never saw the deep emotion Mei-Li carried for her sister before; a sister she only knew from over a decade before. Flashing back to her previously cited story, when her mother was killed by the Triad-controlled pimp, Mei-Li and Lian-Na were all each other had. Their bond was as deep as any siblings could have. Mei-Li’s initial, almost primal living from cardboard boxes and garbage cans lasted until she realized her body could improve her existence.

  Where their paths diverged was still a complete mystery to Spoke, but he knew generally about the normal sordid life of a prostitute in Hong Kong. He shuddered to think of one of his children having to deal with that in their lives. He longed to hear his kids’ voices again. It now became an obsession to seek out the communications officer and attempt to get a call through to his family.

  He knew the difficulty of ship-to-shore communications followed by the tenuous link with HAM operators and finally the telephone even ringing at his house. Chances were, they might be with his sister. What then. One call would be difficult to arrange, but two …..? Still he had to do it.

  He turned to a Marine Corps pilot sitting near him and asked the crucial questions. The pilot smiled and said to follow him. Instead of the red tape needed for permission, he would short-cut the whole system. He took him to the Marine communications suite. Better to get forgiveness than to fight the frustration of getting permission.

  The pilot knocked on a nondescript gray door with a symbol of a lightning bolt on a shield on it. “This may be better suited to your needs,” he said. “We use it all the time.” He smiled and winked at the Corporal who opened the door.

  The Corporal nodded and simply asked, “What’s the number, sir?”

  Spoke thought for a second. It was yesterday in San Diego and about 14 hours before. He decided to call his sister first. She would know where the kids were for sure and where Charlene was.

  The call went through to a HAM operator in Alaska and with a simple “Semper Fi,” the call rang in San Diego. The Corporal smiled and said the HAM operator was a retired Marine who really liked helping.

  A quick response and the cheery sound of Marilyn’s voice said she was awake and almost eager to answer.

  Spoke asked how she was and received the tone of voice that said he was really missed. Even half way round the world it seemed to add sunshine to his comments. He asked where the kids were and then the change. The black cloud came over her voice and his appearance. The demeanor told all who were in the small communications center that things were not good.

  He simply said, “When?” From the answer on the other end of the line, he became more agitated. His next question made it all clear. “May I speak with them?”

  Changing his tone, he did his best to appear happy. A youthful voice came on the line. “Hey, Beautiful. How’s it going?” The one-sided conversation continued with him noticeably becoming more relaxed to the others in the room.

  After talking quickly to each of the three children, he then confronted Marilyn. “Sis, do you even know where she is?” The pause and look on his face said it all.

  The Corporal gave him the finger across the neck signal. Calls were only to be five minutes or less and his was pushing six.

  “I’ll talk to you again soon. Thanks, Sis, for your care of the kids.”

  The line went dead. Now he had to make something out of his extreme frustration at the actions of his wife. No doubt she had fallen off the drug wagon...again. Her one-room trips from prescription drugs was more than he could address in his world. Here, he was helping to squash the horrible elements of the world, and all she could do is hammer and push his children toward a similar life. Sure, Marilyn was there to catch them as they fell, but where was the justice? When they were courting, Charlene didn’t wear a sign that said “I will always need a baby-sitter.”

  Even her angry attacks during her first pregnancy he could write off as pregnancy woes. This was different. His anger was palpable. The adrenaline rush of combat elevated his blood pressure, but this kind of blood pressure elevation left him just plain angry.

  He graciously thanked the Corporal and said he’d make it right for them. He owed them. He turned to the pilot that had helped him and promised to make it good to him when they returned to Subic Bay in the Philippines. Right now, he wanted a bed and something good to eat.

  Epilogue

  Good Byes for Now

  Bangkok, Thailand

  Spoke and Bee faced their two friends. Fang and Mei-Li were now heading back to Kaohsiung, Taiwan. Each knew in their hearts this might be the last contact they would have face to face. Spoke would always keep up with Fang through professional and personal contact, but he would miss Mei-Li. She became an older sister he never had.

  The curbside drop-off for the Bangkok Air Terminal was noisy and congested. It was never a good place to get mushy. On the other hand, Spoke felt that he may never see his best friends again. Mei-Li cried openly and Fang had a tear in the corner of his eye as well. The two of them shook Bee’s hand and turning to Spoke, gave him a huge hug. Mei-Li also gave him a kiss on his cheek.

  Then, turning away, they were enveloped in the crowd. Gathering noise from loudspeakers and more arriving travelers signaled a need to retreat to their Navy-provided ship’s liberty vehicle.

  Bee broke the silence with an understandingly neutral comment. Perhaps they’d get another assignment together. Stranger things had happened.