The quickest way out of the valley was by using the same speed trails the NVA were using to ferry supplies into Vietnam. The jungle leading out of the valley was thick, as we had already seen, and it was going to be quite a run to the LZ. If there was a major fuckup, we could take our chances in the bush. It was a bad option; it was the one Second Recon used. Ondine knew if we blew the pickup, we were in serious trouble. It wasn’t like him to gamble in this fashion. There was an alternative LZ, but nobody even wanted to think about it. The Invisible Man couldn’t make it to the alternative LZ.

Pink attached the sniper scope and silencer to his carbine. He removed two mesh screen devices known as nightingales from his ruck. These were simply screens wired to a web of firecrackers and cherry bombs and hooked to a detonator. Each would give off a five-minute explosion simulating the heavy weapons and M-16 fire of a full company. The rest of the team took positions along either side of the main trail and planted their claymores before huddling down in the bush establishing their fields of fire. The nightingales were covered with sheets of plastic to protect them from the rain. He gave one to me, along with a long coil of thin wire and a detonator. The rest of the team hunkered down and prepared themselves for the uncertainties of a long wait, while Pink and I slipped into the bushes, keeping away from the trails. It took several hours to get in position. I never saw a soldier more cautious than Pink. While my mind was jamming with amphetamine and the hot blood of fear, Pink was as cold as a snake.

We picked out positions and then moved north with the com wire, toward the feeder road. The trail coming down into the valley had a guard patrol and a pair of dogs, but the security was fairly lax. We set up the nightingales, camouflaging them with tent-shelter halves, and then returned to our positions and spent the night in a bone-chilling rain. It was so cold I could see my own breath. My feet, ears, and fingers were numb. I wondered how a puny guy like Pink could take the cold since I had body fat and he did not. My teeth began to chatter and I was practically into hypothermic shock by dawn. I popped greenies and wolfed down Nestlé’s chocolate bars. The mission was beginning to feel like some major suck. We didn’t need to do this. We could walk out of the valley and let the B-52s take care of the situation. Headquarters, had they been there to see it, would have known for themselves. I guess they wanted Deng no matter what happened. He was a slippery guy, and people wanted confirmation.