Now it was her turn to stare. “I did not.”
“Now you do. As his heir, you are part owner of that building. You and I would have to do a lot of investigating, but we could consider selling that portion to put toward an investment like this if we needed to.”
“So you think it could work?”
“It would not be a moneymaker, Sassy. You know that.”
“I have enough money,” she said, though she still didn’t have the final tally from the lawyer. “What’s the point of having money if you can’t do something good with it?”
His gaze sharpened with interest. She’d seen that look a few times, like when her father had suggested something and dared him to take a risk. It was a look of respect, she realized, and she sat taller, recognizing that. He believed in her idea. He believed in her.
“Let’s go back to the office,” he said thoughtfully. “I want to show you some charts. But first, I have a question. Where’s that spoiled brat I bailed out of jail? She never could have cooked this up.”
“She grew up,” Sassy replied.
forty-fourMARION
After two weeks in Da Nang, with its endless casualties, ferocious heat, and nearby explosions that shook the building and caused the lights to flicker, Marion’s work inside the hospital was getting better. Not easier, but better. Thanks to ten straight hours—sometimes longer—of thinking and working on her feet, she slept pretty well. The work was rewarding, heartbreaking, and grueling, but she was acclimating to it.
At the end of every day, Daniel met her outside the hospital and walked her to dinner. He took his bodyguard role as seriously as he could, considering he wasn’t able to be with her when she was operating or tending to patients. He had been quick to contact the U.S. military base by telephone when he arrived, and after they approved his credentials, he was issued weapons, which he slung over his shoulder, hung at his belt, and shoved into a leather holster on his hip. He was physically larger than the men in the Vietnamese Security Forces, so once they got to know him, he became a sort of guard for the entire hospital.
Sometimes he wandered into the nearby jungle to “hunt.” Marion was aware that what he meant by that was “recon,” and she hated the thought of it.
“I’m not going far, and it’s just me,” he said. “I can sit in the trees for hours without moving if I need to.” When she still wasn’t reassured, hescowled. “You want me to just sit here? I’m not made for that, Marion.”
She knew that, but still. She thought about mentioning his missing eye and reduced vision, but she knew that would annoy him, not dissuade him.
Then one day, he wasn’t there.
Marion stood at the exit to the hospital for an hour after her shift was over, fighting panic when he didn’t appear. It was dusk when she stopped to ask two members of the Vietnamese Security Forces if they’d seen him, but they only pointed vaguely toward the trees. By then, the sun was quickly sinking. She couldn’t stay put any longer, and she had no time to eat. She walked quickly to the VPVN compound then dove into her room and locked the door.
Daniel was not there in the morning to walk her to the hospital. When she arrived on her own, she went directly to the Security Forces again. They had nothing to tell her, other than to say there had been no local reports of conflicts. If Daniel was out there, they said, he was not fighting.
That did nothing to calm her. All day she was distracted, and once she was reprimanded by the surgeon for not paying attention. When the day was done, she went in search of the chef. He didn’t like the idea that she was now without a bodyguard, and he promised to look into it and report back. When the day was done, he sent one of his men to safely accompany her to the compound. In the brief snatches of sleep she caught, she dreamed of him out in the jungle, wounded and alone.
The next morning, she knocked on Daniel’s door, hoping, but there was no answer. Jaw set, she marched the few blocks to the hospital and was met by the chef. He waved her into his office and sat her down. His tight expression sent her pulse rocketing.
He closed the door behind her. “Mes hommes ont trouvé le major.”She caught her breath, forcing herself to stay quiet, but tears of relief burned.He’s alive!
“Ah. Pardon! Major Neumann has been seen, but he will not come. He says to tell you he is all right, butil a beaucoup à faire. Je m’excuse. He has much to do.” He frowned. “He says to my man that he has found American prisoners.”
Marion’s jaw dropped. “Where? Where is he?”
“Aboutdeux kilomètres à l’ouest. He found a small camp.” Again he frowned.“This is the first time we are learning of this place. Only one hour away. That is too close to the hospital. We are sending Security Forces out today.”
“I want to go with them.”
His face twisted with astonishment, then his eyes crinkled as if he might laugh. “You?Non, non, non.You are not going out there. You areun docteur, pas un soldier. You are neededici.Out there? You are dead.”
But Marion could no longer focus on her patients. All morning she was distracted. She needed to get to Daniel somehow, though the idea seemed impossible. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she lied to her boss for the first time in her life, telling the surgeon she was too sick to work. With everything going on around them, he had no time to question her, so he simply called for another intern to take her spot. Determined, she trotted out of the hospital and went in search of the Special Forces. A couple of them stood nearby, arms crossed, their faces painted with green camouflage. As she got closer to them, they exchanged uneasy glances. It made her wonder if they’d been waiting for her.
“You cannot come with us,” the first informed her, hugging an M16 to his side.
“All right,” she bluffed. “Just point the way to the camp, then. I will get there on my own. It’s okay. I have a compass.”
The second one glared. “You work. You not come to camp.”
“I am coming. I am a doctor. I need to make sure no one is wounded.”
