Hue, Vietnam.
February, 1968.

The jungles of ?Nam weren?t like being back in Alabama in February to Matt, they were a lot warmer. The troops had been in Hue now for what seemed like an eternity. The NVA and Viet Cong would push, and the US would push back. Everyone wanted the site, for an advantage over the other.

?Stone!? Dukes called out his name and Matt turned to look at him. ?Take Brooklyn, Travers, and Sparks then clear around toward that tower. Do not try to be heroes, if the VC and NVA are coming at you, you bring them back here, am I understood??

?Yes, Sir.?

The men had been in the same outfit now since Khe Sahn. Last they heard the VC was launching a heavy assault, as many as one hundred bombs an hour and they showed no signs of letting up. They checked their gear, leaving the heavy parts behind; they were to be as quiet as possible, sneaking through the holy area and trying to take control of the tower.

Matt knew if he could get Brooklyn up there, the man would start racking up the body count with that sniper rifle he carried.

?Man,? Brooklyn said as they were going over the map and finalizing their gear selections. ?I heard that Doctor Martin Luther King is encouragin? folks to avoid the draft. Trying to get protestors of what we are doing here with his civil rights group, and go marchin? around saying what we are doing over here is wrong.? Brooklyn pulled his helmet off and rubbed a dark hand over his shaved head. ?Ain?t no wonder white folks don?t like us blacks.? He laughed then, looking at the other men with him.

?Brooklyn, you know that ain?t true,? Matt said. ?We just have to watch you around the Jeeps so you ain?t stealing the hubcaps.? They all laughed, including Brooklyn. They had been through a lot, and they crossed the racial boundaries with each other, but if you let another person speak of their heritage the fight would definitely begin.

Travers was a quiet kid, from somewhere back East. He really didn?t talk about his life before the war, but they all knew him as one of the best Demolition guys they?d ever seen. He?d rigged things that looked impossible but they did everything he claimed they would, including taking out an enemy troop hauler on the way to Hue.

He made the mistake of admitting to them he was originally from Poland and with the diverse group he found himself the butt of the jokes at times too. He squirreled away some plastic explosive, and detonators as well as several clips for his M-14, before nodding his ready to Matt.

Sparks was in Basic with Stone, and he knew the man well. They?d shared the same mud since arriving in the Jungle, and knew each other?s moves like the back of their own hand. Four men versus NVA and VC forces, the odds had Matt smiling.

?Is he smiling?? Travers asked Brooklyn.

?He is, man.?

?I don?t like it when he?s smiling.?

?None of us do," Sparks said, joining in on their conversation.

Matt holstered his M1911, with several spare magazines, and readied his Thompson. The men all nodded, Brooklyn blessed himself, and they wandered out, under the cover of shadows provided by a setting sun.

Hue, Vietnam.
March, 1968.


Dukes called in Matt, Sparks, Travers, and Brooklyn, congratulating them on a job well done. Some of the news reporters there even took their pictures, shaking hands with their CO and smiling for the cameras even before the blood of the VC had gone cold.

"Gentlemen, with all you've done here today, I want to award you with the Bronze Star." Dukes was smiling their way, but looking toward the camera.

"It's a damn media fluke," Sparks growled from a plastered on, fake smile.

"We worked our ass off for this, Sparks," Brooklyn was wearing a genuine smile, thinking about his Grandfather in World War II was only allowed to be a cook, and not see actual combat time. He knew when he got home, his medal was going to his own hero.

After the cameras left and moved on to film other things, the men were sitting together eating their first meal of the day. Matt had learned to love the MREs, and he especially liked the spaghetti.

"You guys kicked tail out there today," Matt said as he forked a mouthfull of noodles in. "I mean it, we work well together."

A PFC ran up to them and saluted as they were all higher level rank than him. They all stayed seated but returned his salute.

"Sir," He said as he looked to Matt, " Commander Dukes would like to speak to you." All the men started to stand up, and he stopped them. "No Sirs, Just Stone." Matt exchanged glances with them, then shook his head.

"Taking bets on more PR, pressing the flesh kinda crap?"

"You are too ugly for the evening news, LT." Travers said with a smile, and watched as Matt walked off toward the front, where Dukes and others were pouring over maps and looking for the next best bet for advance.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Matt asked as he stepped in and saluted Dukes, only to have the man never look up.

"Stone, this unit is breaking up, part getting absorbed into Charlie Company, and part to the Eleventh. Travers and Brooklyn are going to the Eleventh, you and Sparks are going Charlie," Dukes said while point out the areas on the map where they would be.

"Sir?"

"What is it, Matt?"

"I think the four of us made a great team, I think we should remain together, as we know the other's habit under fire, and in the shit, Sir."

"Did you outrank me, Stone?"

"No, Sir."

"Then it is my decision. Dismissed," Dukes waved Matt away as he went back to his meeting with the other officers, leaving Matt angry as he walked away.

"What do you mean we ain't stickin' together, man?" Brooklyn said as he stared at Matt. "We have been in the same mud since Khe Sahn, Man. You get a group of friends, they tend to watch your six while you are gettin' shot at by the Mother Fuckin' Gooks!" He was angry, and it showed with his accent, and his mannerisms. "No one watches your ass when you are the new guy in his company."

"You still got me, Bro." Travers said as he looked at Brooklyn, then at the other two men. "I agree with the Darkie, it's going to be rough starting over again."

Brooklyn nodded his head and held his hand out, palm up to Travers, to which Travers slapped down on the palm, and both men smiled. Matt looked at them, then at Sparks.

"Charlie is lead by Calley, isn't it?" Sparks asked as he seemed more interested in moving on than staying in a team of men.

"Yeah, that's last I heard, but you know how things change around this war," Matt said.

"I heard he's a good CO."

"Guess we are going to find out."

The men shared their last beers together that night, they swapped stories and laughed, like old friends that had known each other for years, when in fact it had only been a few months. The next morning, they wished each other well, and went two different ways.

My Lai, Vietnam.
March 16th, 1968.

The sun was barely starting to peek over the horizon and Matt was already standing there by the tents drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. He'd seen Calley and a few others talking as they were readying for the assault. The man had a look in his eyes that just showed he'd had enough, and was to the verge of the breaking point. Matt had seen the look before, and he was wondering how well the man was going to lead them into battle.

"Morning, Stone." John said from behind him, and Matt turned to face the man.

"So I was thinkin', Dris, that accent sounds North-East, I'm guessing Maine?" John looked at him and shook his head, while he was also trying to guess where Matt may have come from. During the war, he'd met people from all walks of life, from all over the United States, so meeting new people had really become somewhat of an excitement for him. He knew that friendships here would last a lifetime, even if the friend did not.

"Boston," John said with a smile, "South of Massachusets." He took a deep inhale of the of the morning air, and cocked his head to the side, as in the distance he could hear the beat of the approaching Huey's rotors.

"Damn, I usually nail it closer to home." Stone said as he listened as well. "How many scouts you have coming in, Dris?"

"You are a Southern man, what around, say Mississippi?" Then he looked to the hills South and West of them, "Usually two scouts and two gun ships."

"Alabama." Matt said with a chuckle as he offered John a Cig. "Think that's going to be enough today?"

John took the offered smoke, and then used his own lighter to light it. "Matt, I have a bad feeling about this." He took a deep drag, and Matt could see the look of a different man than their CO Calley. The look of a man that was feeling something was going to go wrong, or worse, he was going to wind up dead.

"Dris, I'll watch your back," Matt said quietly, then watched as all the men started gathering up as another smaller, pinch faced, devious looking man that he knew as their CO stepped forward.

The men all gathered and listened to Calley as he spoke, listening to the plan of attack and he kept pushing the fact that they were to take out the hamlet, nothing left alive, and the buildings burned to the ground, animal and man a like were to die.

"Listen Sweetheart, we heard you the first time." A man in Captain's stripes said as Calley stared at him.

"Who is that," Matt asked John.

"Captain Medina, he's the pain in Calley's ass. No one in the squad likes Calley, Medina especially, some of the squad even have a price on Calley's head." John kept his voice low.

"You are kidding me."

"Last I heard, it was up to fifteen hundred bucks," John said with a nod. "That's a good amount for 'Nam."

"Hell man, that's a good amount for the US. I could buy a new car almost , or make a nice down payment on a house." Matt thought about the girl that was back in Alabama waiting for him, and how they'd talked about getting married when he got back Stateside. "You got someone waiting back home?" He asked. "I mean if it isn't any of my business feel free to say so."

"She doesn't know she's waiting on me," John said with a laugh. "Eileen, High School friend turned sweetheart." Dris smiled as he mentioned her. "She's gonna have my kids one day, and my son is going to become a Doctor, Lawyer, Rock Star, anything that can allow the old man to retire."

They shared a laugh at that, and Matt looked around a moment realizing that this squad of men was lead by a man that wasn't respected, by a crew that was thirsting for blood and revenge for their fallen friends.

"You all know I hate the Gooks, and since intell says this is the stopping point for the 45th. It's all got to go." Calley said again, as he spat a wad of tobacco out onto the ground. "They are no better than animals."

The Hueys came flying in low and loud, picking a few up for the ride into My Lai, Matt climbed into one of them, and Sparks ran with the rest of the squad. He shot Dris a thumbs-up, and watched the man disappear into the rest of the sea of green men, hoping that he would be on the ground with him again soon.

"Welcome aboard, LT. Thompson's flying the bird, I'm Duck," The man was pointing around the chopper, introducing the others, and Matt shook his head, wondering where some of the guys came up with the names they had. He leaned over and took the gunner's position. They held back, and could hear over the rotors, the sound of Roger Miller singing King of the Road.

The scout ship that Hugh piloted touched down on the dirt road, sending dust, grasses and water flying into the air. Matt was the first to the ground, running toward the bunker, and Thompson was hot on his heels. They were holding their heads low as shots were ringing out, only later they found out that it was their own men, shooting unarmed people, most of which were women and children.

"Private, Help me get these people out of this bunker!" Thompson shouted over the noise at a man standing hear the opening that lead down into the dark earth.

"Yes, Sir! We planned to help them out!" Matt saw the man smiling, and took note of all the men with him. They all had the same look, the look of men seeking blood, and the men that had found more than their share. "I got six frags, Lucas has six more, we'll get them out, Sir!"

Thompson shoved the man back and away from the bunker, before Matt then noticed that Duck and a few of the other men from the chopper were there with him. "Stand down, that is an order!"

"Sir, our orders from Calley were to..."

"To hell with Calley, snivelling, conniving little prick! LT, if any of these men advance on this Bunker, take them out!" Thompson said before shouting into the walkie-talkie for the other two gunships to come and assist.

"You are making a mistake, LT. They are going to swing you from the gallows."

"You don't know what you are doing here, man. This is war!"

Matt heard their threats but he stood there, his Trench Broom in hand, ready to open fire on his own kind, and dreading the fact that it had come to this.

"Sir, they are firing into the ditches where some more Civilians were taking cover!" Duck said as he leaned toward Stone.

"Duck, you watch Thompson's ass, I'm going for the ditch." Matt ran as fast as he could and by the time he'd reached the ditch there was nothing but blood, brains, and released bodily fluids, the smell was enough to make him retch, the heat and adrenaline didn't help a thing. The sounds of the M-16 being fired again caught his attention, and he turned to see a soldier firing into the ditch on the other side. His shoulders shook with what appeared to be laughter and it was only after Matt moved to the side he could see the man's dirty face streaked with tears and could see it was the man he knew as Dris.

"Dris?" Matt said calmly, watching the flashes from the muzzle and hearing people scream as bullets ripped into people near them. "Sergeant, stand down! Cease fire!" He knew the time for politeness of friendship was at an impass, and pulled rank.

"You don't understand, Matt. If I don't follow the orders, I'll be beaten, locked up or shot." John ejected a spent magazine, and pushed another into the bottom of the weapon.

"We can still save some of these people, Dris. Do not follow this order, there are men ready to kill the men that are shooting Civs. Do you see weapons on any of these people?" Matt was keeping his voice calm, and his weapon ready. He watched as John lowered the barrel of the gun toward the road.

"Matt, I've killed old men, women and children. At first it was the job, then it was murder..."

"John, hand me the rifle," Matt said and John looked at him, before relinquishing the weapon that had been with him through basic, and fell to his knees looking skyward, before letting out a yell of pain and anger, cursing the powers that be for forcing him to be what Eileen had warned him of.

"Come on John, help me get these other people out and to the approaching gunships to get them out of here." He watched the man pick himself up after breaking down into even more tears, and wearily start pulling people that were left alive from the carnage.

He stood there a moment, watching a man he barely knew as he broke down, and then started scanning the mass of bodies at his feet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and stepped into the ditch, moving some bodies and uncovering a young child from beneath the bodies of some of the fellow villagers.

"You are going to be okay, we are getting you out of here. Shh." Matt told the child who blinked at him with wide eyes and then started wailing like cat with its tail in a fan.

Matt ran back toward the chopper, with the child in his arms , and John moving numbly behind him in time to see Duck waving him forward, and the passenger compartment full of Vietnamese. He handed the child over, and Duck offered a hand to him, as he stepped climbed in and put the helmet back on, and saw John put his head into his hands and really lose control in the midst of the people they were pulling from the village.

"Nice work, Thompson," Matt said. "You saved some lives."

"This is an outrage!" Thompson yelled, before he looked back and saw Dris. "And at what cost, LT?"

"Sir, we have two more incoming," Ducks said as he looked down the dirt road, and over a static filled walkie, Matt could tell it was Sparks.

"Hold the chopper, Sergeant and I are coming in, Two friendlies,one in need medical attention," His voice was cut off by the sharp crack of Spark's side arm, and Matt watched in horror as the man's weapon coughed fire twice, point blank into the Woman and the injured child she was carrying. The spray of their blood coated Daniel's arm and half of his face. He took the walkie from the soldier that could not believe his eyes.

"No longer need the medical." He said with a low chuckle that made Stone shiver, regardless of the heat, and was thankful when Thompson's ship took to the air, leaving the man behind to catch another ride, or walk back to command.

Saigon, Vietnam.
April, 1968.
United States Embassy

Matt had his full dress on and stepped through the doors of the Embassy to two lower men who stood and saluted him quickly.

"Sir, can I assist you?" One of them asked.

"LT Matthew Stone, here on special request," Matt answered, and he watched as the other man flipped through the papers in his hand.

"Yes, Sir. Floor 2, Room 203. They are waiting."

"They?"

"I am not at liberty to say, Sir. You understand, Sir?"

Matt snapped a salute to the men and walked past them, going up the stairs slowly. They told him 1430 hours, and it was 1400. They were there waiting, so they could wait longer. He had a feeling it was going to be more questioning about the events of My Lai, and he was tired of the same questions in different ways.

He reached the landing and looked to the right, then left. Toward the left there were armed MPs staring straight ahead, on either side of the same door.

"Let me guess, 203?" Matt asked as he stepped to the door and they moved their eyes to look over the man.

"Sir, this is 203. You are LT Matthew Stone?" One with two more stripes than the other had asked.

"I am."

"They are waiting for you, Sir." He reached over and turned the handle, and pushed open the door, allowing Matt to step in, and look around the table of officers and others that looked like Civs, and maybe natives. He turned and looked at the door, and the MP pulled it closed as Matt straightened up, and saluted.

"LT Matthew Stone, reporting as requested."

"Says here you go by Matt." one of the civs said, as he looked over a folder then at Matt through the heavy framed glasses.

"Sir, I do, Sir." Matt answered.

"Matt, have a seat." came another man's voice that he instantly recognized.

"Colonel Frazier, damn nice to see you, Sir." Matt said as he walked toward his first ever CO, and a personal friend before they wound up in Nam. Frazier was a friend of Matt's dad, and Matt felt that he was assembled from the parts of the finest dead GIs from every war.

"Cigar?" Frazier asked as he offered the case from his pocket.

"Thank you, Sir." Matt said as he took the offered stoagie.

He sat down with a motion from the Colonel, and then looked around. "Can I ask what this is about?"

"Matt, you are here on your own free will, what is said here, stays here. It dies with the men in this room, understood?" Frazier said as he lit the Cigar for his young friend, and Matt nodded as he puffed the smoke into his lungs. "Okay, what we have here is the reformed enemy of this country." he said as he pointed to the man that Matt had thought a native. "Chin Yi was VC, I mean baby killin', bombin', snipin', bastard that we have been huntin' through this forsaken jungle." Matt watched the man's reaction as the Colonel talked about him.

"Does he speak English?" Matt asked.

"As good as you." Chin answered with a smile, and Matt raised a brow. "I work for U S A, now."

"Nice, a Merc?" Matt asked, and Chin looked around the table, then at the Colonel as if not understanding.

"Merc, means mercenary, that's a man that goes where the money is, no side is chosen."

"But, Chin chose a side." The man wore a confused look then.

"Matt, he's one of us now. His own kind turned on him, and killed his family, his wife, and two little ones, a boy and girl." Another man at the table said.

"And you are?" Matt asked as he took another drag.

"Agent Myers, Federal Bureau of Investigation." The man said smugly as he lit a cigarette. "These are my asscociates, Special Agent Donley, and Special Agent Westin." He motioned and they nodded in turn of introduction.

"Why is the FBI interested in Nam now?" Matt asked, as he looked toward the Colonel.

"Actually we are interested in you, Matt." Myers answered before Frazier could open his mouth.

"Why me?" Matt moved the cigar from one hand to the other, looking around the table.

"Your record is stellar. No forms of discipline, no questioning of authority. You are needed, Matt." Frazier said.

"For what?"

"Special Ops." Frazier and Matt said at the same time. "With your skills and Chin's knowledge of the area, we can turn the tides of this war."

"You gotta be kidding me," Matt said. "I'm getting a slope working with me?"

"Chin, not slope. Chin American, like you." The former VC answered in his gutteral English.

"Great." Matt grumbled. "What exactly are we doing?"