K9LTW – a fiction by MKHurder part-2
Chapter 22— The Line Holds
Tran Nguyen — The Ones Sent to Die
The jungle pressed close around Tran Nguyen as he moved with what remained of his company — thirty men in black pajama uniforms, conical straw hats bobbing as they threaded through the undergrowth. They had once been a hundred strong. Now they were a shadow, a broken line of survivors who no longer spoke of the friends left behind on the slopes around Bearcat.
Ahead of them, the NVA regulars were already hammering the firebase. Tran could hear the distant thump of mortars, the crack of machine guns, the deep, rolling thunder of American artillery answering back. The NVA commander had barely looked at the VC as he gave the order:
“You. Go find the American dog.”
Not the patrol. Not the handler. Just the dog. As if the beast were the real threat. As if the VC were nothing more than tools to be thrown away.
Some of Tran’s men muttered curses. Others trudged silently, eyes hollow. A few still clung to ideology, insisting this was an honor. to blind the Americans, to strike at their spirit. Tran walked among them, trying to be a leader, though he felt like a ghost drifting through the ranks of the already dead.
He had seen the demon once. Yellow eyes floating in the dark. A low growl that vibrated in his bones. Two men torn apart before they could scream.
He bragged about killing it, of course. He had to. A leader couldn’t show fear.
But inside, he prayed he would never see those eyes again.
Overwatch — Eyes in the Sky
Captain Rourke eased the OV‑10A Bronco into a wide, lazy orbit over the canopy. The twin‑boom observation aircraft hummed steadily, its bubble canopy giving him a clear view straight down into the shifting greens below. Morning haze clung to the treetops, turning the jungle into a rolling sea.
He scanned the ground through binoculars.
Movement. A thin, broken line of figures. Black clothing. Conical hats catching glints of sunlight.
VC.
They weren’t retreating. They were peeling off from the main NVA assault, angling southwest toward the outer patrol routes.
Rourke keyed the mic.
“Bearcat, Overwatch. I’ve got a dispersed VC element moving away from the main fight. Their vector puts them on a direct line toward Patrol Echo.”
Static. Then McCready asked the radio man, “Echo is Reyes and Rook?”
“Affirmative.”
To the overwatch “Hold your orbit. We’re working the math.”
Rourke circled again, watching the jungle swallow the column whole, then reveal them again as they crossed a narrow trail.
He didn’t like what he was seeing.
Bearcat — The Dilemma
Inside the tactical operations bunker, LTC Jasper stood over the map table, jaw clenched. McCready traced the VC movement with a grease pencil.
“They’re not wandering,” McCready said. “They’re hunting. And they’re headed straight for Reyes and Rook.”
Jasper didn’t look up. “How many?”
“Hard to say. Bronco driver thought no more than a platoon. It’s hard to track under canopy, though.”
“Enough, though?”
McCready nodded grimly. “We’ve got Donnie and Bodie staged. Mike Force ready to roll. But if we send them—”
“We leave the firebase without a K9 team,” Jasper finished.
Silence settled between them, heavy as the humid air outside.
“Reyes is good,” Jasper said finally. “Rook’s better.”
McCready didn’t argue. But his eyes stayed on the map, on the thin line representing Echo Patrol, on the thicker line of VC movement closing in like a tightening noose.
Reyes and Rook — The Scent of Danger
The jungle was too quiet.
Reyes moved with practiced ease, one hand on Rook’s leash, the other on his rifle. Rook’s ears were up, nose twitching, muscles taut beneath his coat. They were three clicks from Bearcat, sweeping a known infiltration route. Nothing had pinged yet.
But Reyes felt it. There was a shift. A sudden stillness in the jungle. The way the air seemed to hold its breath.
Rook stopped. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest.
Reyes knelt, scanning the treeline. He didn’t see them. Not yet. But he knew they were there.
He asked for and keyed the radio handset.
“Echo to Bearcat. Possible contact.”
Static. Then McCready.
“Copy, Echo. You’ve got a VC element inbound. Understrength but motivated. Hold position. Mike Force is staged.”
Reyes exhaled slowly.
“Roger that.” he handed the set back to the RTO.
He looked at Rook.
“Looks like we’re popular today.”
Rook didn’t respond. He was already facing the wind.
Tran Nguyen — The Demon Returns
They saw the dog first.
Not its body. Not its handler. Just the eyes. Yellow. Floating. Unblinking.
Tran froze. His breath caught in his throat. The jungle around him seemed to vanish, replaced by the memory of screams and torn flesh.
The demon was real.
He raised his rifle, hands trembling.
The handler moved. He was fast, precise, stayed low to the ground so Tran couldn’t track him. A flash of muzzle. A shout. The jungle erupted.
Some of Tran’s men fired blindly. Some dropped to the ground. Some ran.
Tran fired once. He realized he couldn’t see the demon any longer. Fear gripped him firmly. He turned and fled, crashing through the underbrush as the firefight swallowed the world behind him.
Tran Nguyen — The Run to Freedom
Tran didn’t stop running until his legs gave out. He collapsed against a tree, chest heaving, sweat stinging his eyes. The jungle hummed around him, insects, distant gunfire, the low groan of the earth settling after violence.
He wiped his face with shaking hands. He was alive. For the first time in months, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. He looked south, toward the delta. Toward the cousins he hadn’t seen since he was a boy, the ones who farmed rice and raised ducks and never asked for anything but rain and quiet seasons.
He could make it. If he stayed off the trails. If he moved at night. If he avoided both armies. He pushed himself upright, leaning on his rifle like a cane. His legs trembled, but they held. He took one step south. Then another. Then a third.
The jungle thinned ahead, a sign of a larger trail. Maybe a supply route. Maybe a patrol path. He hesitated, listening.
Nothing but cicadas.
He crossed the trail.
A voice barked behind him.
Tran spun, hands raised, mouth open to shout his name, his unit, anything.
The NVA rear guard didn’t wait. Three rifles cracked at once.
Tran staggered backward, confusion flashing across his face before pain overtook it. He fell to his knees, then sideways into the brush. The world dimmed, the jungle fading to a narrow tunnel of green and gold.
His last thought was not of ideology, or commanders, or the war. It was of the delta. Of warm mud between his toes. Of cousins laughing in the sun. Of a life he had almost reached. Then the tunnel closed.
The NVA soldiers stepped forward, rifles still raised, scanning the trees for Americans.
They never even checked his face.
Bearcat — The Line Holds
The firefight ended as quickly as it began. Reyes, Rook and their squad of heavy hitters held their line. Bearcat held theirs. Broken again, the VC and NVA scattered. The jungle swallowed the survivors. Why cut it off so suddenly? It almost seemed they were being timid. Jasper knew that wasn’t true. He wondered aloud, “What are they up to?”
Donnie and Bodie never left the wire. They waited with as much patience as they could muster for Reyes and Rook to return. He noticed the change too. The enemy had shifted tactics. The NVA feinted twice, then hit hard on the opposite side of the compound. That wasn’t different. They had split their forces, though. He wanted to pick Reyes’ mind before he had to go out. Was it tactical or more of the rumored disdain the regular troops held for the guerilla forces.
In the TOC, Jasper marked the map with a red X. “This is where they’ll hit us next.”
McCready exhaled.
“I agree, let’s work that, sir. We held, so let’s rearm, take split shifts to hydrate and eat something. Prep for what’s coming. I wish we had an idea how many troops they have out there, sir. Maybe the Bronco driver will catch sight of them.”
Jasper nodded.
“We hold for now. But let’s not get complacent Sargeant. We should consider sending out a patrol ahead of that spur of jungle. I’d bet my oakleaves they’ll come boiling out from right there. It’s the closest to Bearcat. They could hide a battalion in the depression the other side of that tree line.”
(to be continued) Chapter 23 – Echoes in the Canopy Teaser – Reyes saw it in their eyes, not just fear, but something colder. The VC weren’t retreating. They were abandoning the mission en masse.
Back at Bearcat, Jasper reads the map and sees the pattern forming. The line held, but the enemy didn’t break, they bled and vanished. McCready convinces Jasper, and sends Donnie & Bodie back out, to confirm what he feels in his bones: the fight isn’t over. It’s just changing. They need to know how.
And overhead, the Bronco circles again searching for movement.
On the ground, Bearcat’s defenders listened to the silence, knowing it wouldn’t last.
(Attn: all images AI generated from my prompts unless otherwise noted.)
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Bonus Fiction Feature:
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From Popi’s Tales & The Book of Wonders
More from Popi’s Collection of Facts & Fiction
- Burtt the Blade – fiction
- Doh-Rey-Me Book 1 – fiction – book – written here
- Doh-Rey-Me Book 2 – fiction – book – written here
- K9LTW Book 1 – fiction – book – written here
- K9LTW Book 2 – fiction – book – written here – in progress
- Mystery of Willow Woods – fiction – short Story – written here
- The Last Signal – part one – fiction – book – written here
- Rift Guardians – chapter#1 – fiction – book – written here
- Shorty’s Path – non-fiction auto biography book
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