Escape from Seattle - Essay Example

Escape from Seattle Dark smoke drifted over the wilderness that used to be downtown Seattle. It was just after dawn and an eerie yellow-gray sky formed the backdrop to a scene of devastation. The night guards were coming of their shift and two fresh Gooks took their places on the watchtowers. One hour after dawn. Any minute now the day would begin in earnest. Captain David Nester shouldered his weapon and continued his check of the perimeter fence. This was nothing like the landscape in Nam. Instead of the lush green of tropical rainforest there was a jungle of twisted metal where the skyscrapers had once defined the urban horizon. Every crumbling building reminded him of America’s shameful capitulation. The freeway was patched and torn, and distinctive Vietnamese army trucks rattled towards the Gook headquarters in Pioneer Square. Raucous cries from the sleeping quarters disturbed his thoughts and he turned to see what was causing the fuss. “What you guys doin’?” he barked. One of the ragged band was throwing punches at the Colonel and the rest were laughing and jeering, Braddock stood there, impassive, while the little guy danced around him spitting and shouting all the while. It was just the usual pointless play fighting. You would think they had had enough of that in ‘Nam. “Stop that” he said. “If Colonel Yin gets wind of this, there will be another execution before the day is out.” The little guy turned on Nester and spat in his face. “At least we ain’t traitors. C’mon boy. Let’s see what you got.” He looked pitiful in his torn combat fatigues. Nester sighed and turned his back on the prisoners. He was all there was between them and a Vietnamese execution squad but they still didn’t get it. At this rate the Gooks would kill them all. Braddock was watching quietly in that spooky way of his. Nester couldn’t understand why he didn’t act like a leader. Most of the time the men did whatever they liked, and he just let them do it. Nester carried on his way past the untidy collection of small white crosses. They reminded him of the cemetery back home where his father lay. He could hardly be further away from his Mississippi childhood than he was now. Winter was approaching fast and he was not looking forward to the cold winds from the sea and the Northern snows. All ideas of glory and victory seemed like a hopeless fantasy. His job was to survive and use his wits to keep the others alive, even if they hated him for it. In the distance the thud, thud of a chopper could be heard. Someone shouted out “Sounds like an American!” and everyone looked at Braddock. He inclined his head to the right and everyone scrambled towards the makeshift parade ground. The guards started shouting in that high-pitched squawk that passed for a language and gestured to Nester. They expected him to round up the men and get them out of sight in the sleeping quarters. Nothing could be further from their minds, however, and they leapt and hopped around the parade ground, waving manically at the chopper. This was not going to be easy. After some more shouting and threats the men eventually cleared a space for the chopper to land. The Colombian stepped out and Colonel Yin came out to greet him. They went into the officer’s quarters to talk about the shipping schedules again. The latest American lackey followed after with the wine, struggling to balance the tray and navigate the bamboo walkway that the Colonel insisted on having around his bamboo pagoda. Yin’s base was an incongruous building: square, with a pointed roof and mock windows under the eaves. Nester had been inside only once and had noticed how it seemed much larger on the inside than its outward form suggested. This tiny box-like structure was now the center of their universe and they were just going to have to get used to it or face certain death. Nester observed the disappointment of Braddock’s motley crew when they realized that the helicopter was one of the drug baron’s fleet. Their heads drooped, and they shuffled off to the canteen. Not that there was much to cheer them there. Another inedible soup and another day of land-clearing at gunpoint awaited them all. This was life under Vietnamese occupation and there was no way out for any of them now. As if to drive this point home to them, Colonel Yin emerged from his quarters. He called Nester over and made him round up the men and present them for inspection. Yin walked along the line of dishevelled Americans and boasted to the Colombian that he had everything under control. Lieutenant Anthony Mazilli muttered “In your dreams” and was promptly beaten, shackled and slammed into the isolation unit. That was Gook justice. Brutal and fast, with no court of appeal. Braddock fixed Nester with that annoying stare and Nester looked at the ground. There was considerable irony in the role that Braddock now played, as laborer in the drug-running alliance between gangsters and Gooks. For all his fine words about justice and freedom, Braddock was just a slave of this alien empire. They all were. It was a pity that some of them could not face up to reality. Suddenly a fight broke out between the same little guy and one of the more lively new recruits. His intuition told him that there was something different this time. The men were as loud and foul-mouthed as usual but they seemed strangely uninterested in the fight. McConnor’s eyes were all over the place, as if to scan the perimeter for something. Suddenly Nester understood what was wrong. Braddock was missing. The fight was clearly a diversion. The guards carried on smoking and talking, with an eye on the tussle. Another day, another dogfight. They were used to this and thought nothing of it. Out of the corner of his eye Nester saw a tarpaulin twitch and an American Army issue boot disappearing behind a wall. Projecting the likely direction of Braddock’s move, Nester scanned the Eastern perimeter. The area was mined, but Braddock knew that. Another bamboo walkway led to the ammunition dump but surely that was far too exposed. A chicken scratched the surface of the walkway. Underneath the slats Braddock was inching his way towards the fence. All at once he stood up and fired a weapon at the guard in the Eastern watchtower. All hell broke loose, and Nester made a split second decision. He aimed his Luger at two guards in quick succession. Braddock leapt down from the walkway and zigzagged through the minefield towards Nester. Bullets zipped past Nester’s head and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Braddock rested his hand on Nester’s shoulder. “Time for the fireworks brother” he said quietly, as Nester watched the world light up like the fourth of July. Read More