Free Vietnam II: A War Novel Episode 1 (V2) by C.R. Ryder Page A

complements thoughts of one’s own mortality like a bowl of Gang Keow Wan and rice.  I was nervy and the food went bad as soon as it hit my stomach.
    I only had two options.  Go to the drop or go home empty handed.  There was a chance that he had dropped off the intel before they got him.  He’d dropped off stuff early before.  They might have gotten him after and had no idea he’d done the drop at all.  Of course they might have followed him the whole time.  And they might be waiting for me at the drop.  Or the drop could be empty and the whole thing would be filed as unsolved and unresolved.  The whole thing made my head hurt.
    The mail box we used for the drop had two keys.  Cat had one and the other I had signed out of the Bangkok CIA station before I boarded the plane in Bangkok.  I screwed my balls on tight and caught a cab downtown.  There was nothing except the usual traffic when I stepped into the post office.  It’s bad enough trying to be incognito being an American in Thailand to begin with.  I stood out like a sore thumb.  If there is someone waiting at the post office they could guess pretty quick who Cat’s contact is.
    I open the metal mail box and found a hand receipt.  I waited in line behind ten people in the unairconditioned room big enough for five.  It took forty five minutes to get to the front of the line.  That was the longest forty five minutes of my life.  After all the people in front of me bought stamps and mailed packages it was my turn.  I signed the receipt with the alias the box was rented with. I stood there feeling very exposed while they sorted through the shelves in back looking for whatever it was.  Twenty people had filtered in behind me.  Half of them waited patiently like mindless cattle.  The other half stared daggers at me for holding up the line.  Any of them could have been Cat’s killer.  I could only imagine there were men waiting for me to step outside to put a knife into me.  My morbid curiosity wandered to the question of whether they had cut off Cat’s fingers before or after they killed him when the attendant finally appeared with a large cardboard box.  For some reason I was expecting a thick envelope.  Instead I got a care package from hell.  It was heavy too.  I bumped into two people dragging it out into the street.
    My antenna were up when I got outside for any sign of trouble.  There were no groups of men standing around loitering for no reason.  There was no van idling in a nearby alley.  If there was I would have dropped the box and ran.  Instead all there was were Thais going about their daily lives. 
    I hailed the first cab I found.             
    Before I jumped into the cab I took one last hard look around.  No one stood out.  I could not make out anyone watching me.  Of course if they were professionals I wouldn’t see them.  I would only see them when they wanted me to see them.  If it came to that it was a sure bet I’d be under the knife.  I got in the cab, slammed the door and didn’t look back.
    The airport sounded good.  I left my suitcase at the hotel and told the driver to take me to the terminal without another stop.  I had God knows what in this box, a dead contact and someone running around Udon with a bloody knife.  It was all very double O seven.  And me without my Walter PPK. 
    I kid, but we normally were not armed.
    The drive strained my nerves.  The driver shut down his engine to save gas every time we ran into traffic.  There were no windows so my head and torso were exposed.  It would not be too hard for someone to reach in and slit my throat and be gone with the box before the cab driver even got a look at him.  Not that I could depend on him for any kind of protection.  For the right amount of money the driver could be paid to forget.
    I did not have a lot of time to wonder what was inside the box.  My best guess would have been that Vietnam was developing a nuclear