Now, as he watched, Frank grinned and slapped one of the men on the back, then shook his hand. When he did, Davids gut began to knot. Why would Frank be talking to men like that? Like everyone else, he knew it was men like that who were responsible for selling American-made weapons to the Vietcong. Men from other countries who were in this strictly for the money, who had no allegiance to a nation, not even their own. Immediately he thought of the money Frank had been flashing during the past two months. Money he claimed he had won playing cards. But Frank was a lousy card player. Always had been. When the men began to move, David followed at a distance, desperate to assure himself that what he was thinking couldnt be true.
It started to rain again, and as it did, the streets began to clear as people took shelter inside the shops or made their way home. In an effort to remain unobserved, David had to stay far behind and twice he thought hed lost them, only to turn a corner and see the back of Franks head in the distance.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, Davids gut was in knots. Hed long ago given up on this being an innocent meeting, and when they slipped into an isolated hut, David groaned inwardly. By the time he reached the hut, the rain had turned to a downpour, smothering all sound save that of the hammer of his own heartbeat and the sound of rain on the wet thatched roof.
He moved closer to the door, then shifted so that he could see inside. The interior was small and gloomy, yet light enough for David to see an envelope pass between Frank
and the men.
No, David thought, and held his breath, watching as Frank counted the money then slipped it inside his shirt before handing over a small slip of paper. Without thinking of the consequences, he stalked into the hut.
To say Frank Wilson was stunned, would have been an understatement, but his shock quickly turned to anger when he realized his little brother had seen it all. To make it worse, the other men were already drawing their weapons.
Dont! he yelled. Hes my brother. Then he turned to David, fear mixing with guilt. What the hell do you think youre doing?
David quickly moved, putting himself between Frank and the men and yanking the money out of Franks shirt and throwing it on the ground.
Saving your stupid ass, he said. Now lets get out of here.
What the hells going on? one of the men muttered, and waved his gun in Frank Wilsons face.
Leave this to me, Frank said, and shoved David aside as he began to pick up the money.
David stepped on a wad of money just as Frank reached for it, and in doing so, stepped on Franks fingers instead. Pain fueled Franks rage as he bolted to his feet, slamming David against the wall of the hut. Both of the gunrunners aimed their weapons as they realized their assignation was not as secretive as theyd wished.
Frank knew that now both he and David were in trouble. He pulled his own weapon, aiming it at the shorter ones head.
Dont do it! he yelled, and then fired off two shots before the men could answer.
Through the roar of the rain, the sounds were little more than muffled thumps. David was shaking, stunned by his brothers lack of emotion, only to find that Frank had a gun aimed at his face.
What the hell are you doing? David whispered.
The question should be, what are you going to do about what you just saw? Frank countered.
David swallowed. Hed seen that look on his brothers face before.
What did I see? David asked. What did you sell them?
Frank grinned. A little steel. A little wood. A little lead. Just natural resources.
Davids skin crawled. Guns? Youre selling our own guns to the enemy? How can you do that? How can you be a traitor to your own country?
Frank sneered. My own country, as you so fondly call it, sent me over here to die. And Im not even sure I believe in what Im fighting for. Why shouldnt I get something out of it besides a coffin?
David held out his hand. Please Frank. Lets just go. No one has to know we were even here. Theyll find the bodies and the money, and assume the men killed each other.
Franks smile hardened as he dug through one of the dead mens pockets for the slip of paper with the information hed just sold. When he found it, he wadded it into a very small ball, then popped it in his mouth like candy, chewed it and swallowed while David looked on in horror.
Im not leaving the money, Frank growled. Its mine. Now the problem remains, are you gonna snitch?
Why? Are you going to kill me, too?
In Franks defense, it had to be said that he hesitated, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes when he answered.
If I have to.
David stared into the barrel of the gun, unable to believe that his fate in life was to come all this way across the world only to be killed by his brothers hand.
Youve gone crazy, David pleaded. Is this what you really want?
What I want, is to be rich, Frank said, and took aim.
Everything afterward seemed to happen in slow motion. Franks shot searing the back of Davids shoulder as he dove for a dead mans gun. Pulling the trigger as he rolled. The water leaking through the roof and falling on his left cheek at the same moment that Frank staggered and fell. The smell of gunpowder and mud as David crawled to his feet. Standing motionless beneath the leak in the roof while the raindrops mixed with tears, then throwing his head back and letting out a gut-wrenching roar of anguish.