Free The Son by Marc Santailler Page B

through compromise, and evolution. We need to install a multi-party system in Vietnam, a genuinely democratic society, but we can only do it with the help of the communists themselves. So we have to come to terms with them. Otherwise we’ll just keep going in the same cycle of hate and conflict, and nothing will ever change …’
    There was a messianic light in his eye, and I headed him off before he launched into a lecture. I’d met people like him before, in Saigon and later among the refugees, idealists who thought they could hold back the tide, somehow appeal to people’s better nature, or who wanted to play the part of conciliator, and ended up getting caught in the middle, and crushed, like Hao’s father. I wished him better luck.
    But that wasn’t why I was there, and I decided to trust him. After all he had taken me on trust himself, on Jack’s recommendation.
    â€˜I’m interested in one particular group in the Vietnamese community,’ I said. ‘But I know very little about it.’
    â€˜May I ask the nature of your interest?’
    â€˜Yes. But if you don’t mind I’d like to keep it between us. I didn’t tell Jack the real story.’
    He gave me a searching look, then nodded. ‘Rest assured, anything you tell me will be in strict confidence. I expect the same in return.’
    â€˜Of course.’
    I gave him a brief version of the truth, keeping Hao and Eric’s names out of it. I spoke of a friend, who had a young relative who was involved in that group, and who was concerned about it. He asked if my friend was Vietnamese. I said yes, but assured him it was someone I trusted fully, and I hadn’t told my friend about our meeting. He accepted this.
    â€˜Do you know a man called Vo Khanh?’ I asked. ‘He runs the Dai Nam restaurant in Cabramatta, and he’s a former officer in the South Vietnamese Marines.’
    Quang’s eyes twinkled again.
    â€˜Of course. He’s well known in the community. He’s one of those people I was telling you about, who want to overthrow the government in Hanoi and restore the old order. I sometimes see him at meetings. He has a reputation for violence. Lately I’ve heard that he’s trying to organise some demonstrations against Loc’s visit.’
    I pulled out a sketch I had made of the tattoo on Eric’s arm. Afterwards I had remembered seeing it before, on one of the young men I had met at the house in Cabramatta. Quang smiled when I told him where I’d seen it.
    â€˜That’s a mad buffalo,’ he said.
    â€˜That’s what I thought. What does it mean?’
    â€˜You haven’t heard of the Mad Buffaloes? That’s what they used to call one of the Marine battalions in Vietnam. Tiểu Đòan Trâu Điên. The Mad Buffaloes Battalion. Because of their fighting spirit. When they attacked, they kept charging like mad buffaloes until they reached their objective. That was their sign.’
    â€˜Is that the name of this group then?’
    â€˜Possibly. I hadn’t heard the name being used here. But it makes sense, if Vo Khanh is at the head of it. What else do you know about them?’
    â€˜Not much. It seems they hold meetings, from time to time. And they may have a training camp out in the country, somewhere in the hills north-west of Sydney.’
    I told him what I’d learnt from Eric, conscious that I was breaking my promise to him. I didn’t have much choice, if I was going to get anywhere. He took it all in, but couldn’t add any more.
    â€˜Do you know a man called Ho Xuan Bach?’ I asked. ‘Also known as Bach Ho. He’s a prominent businessman in Cabramatta.’
    â€˜I don’t know him personally. You’re right, he is a wealthy businessman. Is he involved in this?’
    â€˜I don’t know. But he knows Vo Khanh.’
    â€˜That probably doesn’t mean anything. But I can check it