璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第177章

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。　He‘d　have　to　find　a　way　to　make　it　smell；　too；　Kelly　thought。
Nature　again　provided　some　additional　cover。　Evening　storms　were　rolling　in；　bringing　with　them　leaf…swirling　wind　and　rain　that　covered　him　on　the　way　to　his　Volkswagen。　Ten　minutes　later　he　parked　near　a　neighborhood　liquor　store；　where　he　purchased　a　bottle　of　cheap　yellow　wine　and　a　paper　bag　to　semiconceal　it。　He　took　off　the　twist　cap　and　poured　about　half　of　it　into　a　gutter。　Then　it　was　time　to　go。
It　all　looked　different　now；　Kelly　thought。　It　was　no　longer　an　area　he　could　pass　through；　seeing　the　dangers　or　not。　Now　it　was　a　place　of　sought　danger。　He　drove　past　the　spot　where　he‘d　led　Billy　and　his　Roadrunner；　turning　to　see　if　the　tire　marks　were　still　there　…　they　weren‘t。　He　shook　his　head。　That　was　in　the　past；　and　the　future　occupied　his　thoughts。
In　Vietnam　there　always　seemed　to　be　the　treeline；　a　spot　where　you　passed　from　the　openness　of　a　field　or　farmed　area　into　the　jungle；　and　in　your　mind　that　was　the　place　where　safety　ended　and　danger　began　because　Charlie　lived　in　the　woods。　It　was　just　a　thing　of　the　mind；　a　boundary　imaginary　rather　than　real；　but　in　looking　around　this　area　he　saw　the　same　thing。　Only　this　time　he　wasn‘t　walking　in　with　five　or　ten　rades　in　striped　jungle　fatigues。　He　was　driving　through　the　barrier　in　a　rust…speckled　car。　He　accelerated；　and　just　like　that；　Kelly　was　in　the　jungle；　and　again　at　war。
He　found　a　parking　place　among　autos　as　decrepit　as　his　own；　and　quickly　got　out；　as　he　once　would　have　run　away　from　a　helicopter　LZ　the　enemy　might　see　and　approach；　and　headed　into　an　alley　dotted　with　trash　and　several　discarded　appliances。　His　senses　were　alert　now。　Kelly　was　already　sweating；　and　that　was　good。　He　wanted　to　sweat　and　smell。　He　took　a　mouthful　of　the　cheap　wine　and　sloshed　it　around　his　mouth　before　letting　it　dribble　out　onto　his　face；　neck；　and　clothing。　Bending　down　briefly；　he　got　a　handful　of　dirt；　which　he　rubbed　onto　his　hands　and　forearms；　and　a　little　onto　his　face。　An　afterthought　added　some　to　the　hair　of　his　wig；　and　by　the　time　Kelly　had　passed　through　the　city…block…length　of　the　alley；　he　was　just　one　more　wino；　a　street　bum　like　those　who　dotted　the　area　even　more　than　the　drug　pushers。　Kelly　adjusted　his　gait；　slowing　down　and　being　deliberately　sloppy　in　his　movements　while　his　eyes　searched　for　a　good　perch。　It　wasn‘t　all　that　difficult。　Several　of　the　houses　in　the　area　were　vacant；　and　it　was　just　a　matter　of　funding　one　with　a　good　view。　That　required　half　an　hour。　He　settled　for　a　corner　house　with　upstairs　bay　windows。　Kelly　entered　it　from　the　back　door。　He　nearly　jumped　out　of　his　skin　when　he　saw　two　rats　in　the　wreckage　of　what　a　few　years　before　had　been　a　kitchen。　Fuckin‘　rats！　It　was　foolish　to　fear　them；　but　he　loathed　their　small　black　eyes　and　leprous　hair　and　naked　tails。
‘Shit！‘　he　whispered　to　himself。　Why　hadn‘t　he　thought　about　that？　Everybody　got　a　creeping　chill　from　something：　spiders；　snakes；　or　tall　buildings。　For　Kelly；　it　was　rats。　He　walked　towards　the　doorway；　careful　to　keep　his　distance。　The　rats　merely　looked　at　him；　edging　away　but　less　afraid　of　him　than　he　was　of　them。　‘Fuck！‘　they　heard　him　whisper；　leaving　them　to　their　meal。
What　followed　was　anger。　Kelly　made　his　way　up　the　unbanistered　stairs　and　found　the　corner　bedroom　with　the　bay　windows；　furious　with　himself　for　allowing　such　a　dumb　and　cowardly　distraction。　Didn‘t　he　have　a　perfectly　good　weapon　for　dealing　with　rats？　What　were　they　going　to　do；　assemble　into　a　battalion　for　a　rat…wave　attack？　That　thought　finally　caused　an　embarrassed　smile　in　the　darkness　of　the　room。　Kelly　crouched　at　the　windows；　evaluating　his　field　of　view　and　his　own　visibility。　The　windows　were　dirty　and　cracked。　Some　glass　panels　were　missing　entirely；　but　each　window　had　a　fortable　sill　on　which　he　could　sit；　and　the　house‘s　location　at　the　corner　of　two　streets　gave　him　a　long　view　along　each　of　the　four　main　points　of　the　pass；　since　this　part　of　the　city　streets　was　laid　out　along　precisely　surveyed　north…south；　east…west　lines。　There　wasn‘t　enough　illumination　on　the　streets　for　those　below　him　to　see　into　the　house。　With　his　dark；　shabby　clothing；　in　this　unfit　and　derelict　house；　Kelly　was　invisible。　He　took　out　a　small　pair　of　binoculars　and　began　his　reconnaissance。
His　first　task　was　to　learn　the　environment。　The　rain　showers　passed；　leaving　moisture　in　the　air　that　made　for　little　globes　of　light　punctuated　by　the　flying　insects　attracted　to　their　eventual　doom　by　streetlights。　The　air　was　still　warm；　perhaps　mid…eighties；　falling　slowly；　and　Kelly　was　perspiring　a　little。　His　first　analytical　thought　was　that　he　should　have　brought　water　to　drink。　Well；　he　could　correct　that　in　the　future；　and　he　didn‘t　really　need　a　drink　for　some　hours。　He　had　thought　to　bring　chewing　gum；　and　that　made　things　easier。　The　sounds　of　the　streets　were　curious。　In　the　jungle　he‘d　heard　the　tittering　of　insects；　the　calls　of　birds；　and　the　flapping　of　bats。　Here　it　was　automotive　sounds　near　or　distant；　the　occasional　squeal　of　brakes；　conversations　loud　or　muted；　barking　dogs；　and　rattling　trash　cans；　all　of　which　he　analyzed　while　watching　through　his　binoculars　and　considering　his　actions　for　the　evening。
Friday　night；　the　start　of　the　weekend；　and　people　were　making　their　purchases。　It　seemed　this　was　a　busy　night　for　the　gentry　business。　He　identified　one　probable　dealer　a　block　and　a　half　away。　Early　twenties。　Twenty　minutes　of　observation　gave　him　a　good　physical　picture　of　both　the　dealer　and　his　assistant…‘lieutenant。‘　Both　moved　with　the　ease　that　came　both　with　experience　and　security　in　their　place；　and　Kelly　wondered　if　they　had　fought　either　to　take　this　place　or　to　defend　it。　Perhaps　both。　They　had　a　thriving　trade；　perhaps　regular　customers；　he　thought；　watching　both　men　approach　an　imported　car；　joshing　with　the　driver　and　passenger　before　the　exchange　was　made；　shaking　hands　and　waving　afterwards。　The　two　were　of　roughly　the　same　height　and　build；　and　he　assigned　them　the　names　Archie　and　Jughead。
Jesus；　what　an　innocent　I　was；　Kelly　told　himself；　looking　down　another　street。　He　remembered　that　one　asshole　they‘d　caught　smoking　grass　in　3rd　SOG　…　right　before　going　out　on　a　job。　It　had　been　Kelly‘s　team；　and　Kelly‘s　man；　and　though　he　was　an　FNK　right　from　SEAL　school；　that　was　no　excuse　at　all。　Confronting　the　man；　he‘d　explained　reasonably　but　positively　that　going　into　the　field　in　anything　less　than　a　hundred…percent…alert　state　could　mean　death　for　the　entire　team。　‘Hey；　man；　it‘s　cool；　I　know　what　I‘m　doing‘　had　not　been　a　particularly　intelligent　response；　and　thirty　seconds　later　another　team　member　had　found　it　necessary　to　pull　Kelly　off　the　instantly　ex…member　of　the　team；　who　was　gone　the　next　day；　never　to　return。
And　that　had　been　the　only　instance　of　drug　use　in　the　entire　unit　as　far　as　Kelly　knew。　Sure；　off…duty　they‘d　had　their　beer　bashes；　and　when　Kelly　and　two　others　had　flown　to　Taiwan　for　R&；R；　their　collective　vacation　had　not　been　terribly　unlike　a　mobile　earthquake　of　drunken　excesses。　Kelly　truly　believed　that　was　different；　blind　to　the　explicit　double　standard。　But　they　didn‘t　drink　beer　before　heading　into　the　boonies　either。　It　was　a　matter　of　mon　sense。　It　had　also　been　one　of　unit　morale。　Kelly　knew　of　no　really　elite　unit　that　had　developed　a　drug　problem。　The　problem　…　a　very　serious　one　indeed；　he‘d　beard　…　was　mainly　in　the　REMFs　and　the　draftee　units　posed　of　young　men　whose　presence　in　Vietnam　was　even　less　willing　than　was　his　own；　and　whose　officers　hadn‘t　been　able　to　overe　the　problem　either　because　of　their　own　failings　or　their　not　dissimilar　feelings。
Whatever　the　cause；　the　fact　that　Kelly　had　hardly　considered　the　problem　of　drug　use　was　both　logical　and　absurd。　He　set　all　of　that　aside。　However　late　he　had　learned　about　it；　it　was　here　before　his　eyes。
Down　another　street　was　a　solo　dealer　who　didn‘t　want；　need；　or　have　a　lieutenant。　He　wore　a　striped　shirt　and　had　his　own　clientele。　Kelly　thought　of　him　as　Charlie　Brown。　Over　the　next　five　hours；　he　identified　and　classified　three　other　operations　within　his　fiel