CONTENTS
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Readings from What Goes Around
Last
update: 07/14/06 12:34:30 PM.
Visitors: 
This
reading begins on page 53 of the novel.
Several
nights after Doug returns from a Las Vegas trip, he is awakened in the middle of
the night by voices outside his bedroom door. Unsure of what to
do, he moves to the adjacent bathroom carrying a wingtip shoe for
protection. Enjoy reading #1.
Feeling cold bathroom tile under his feet, he heard them enter his
bedroom. Hiding in the bathroom like this failed to provide much comfort. He was
drenched in cold sweat.
The two men moved silently around the room. Each held a 38-caliber revolver with
a silencer.
This type of job was nothing new for them. They had done it a number of other
times. Often they bragged about doing more than twenty hits but they had only
done twelve. This would be their thirteenth.
Cautiously they moved shoulder-to-shoulder three feet apart. The driver
whispered. "I can't see a fucking thing."
Since Vietnam Doug needed to sleep in total darkness. Some shapes could be seen
in the room but distinguishing any contrast between light and dark was almost
impossible.
After several more steps, the hitmen still could not determine if anyone was
asleep in the bed or if there was one or two people. They simply could not see
anything at all.
The driver whispered close to the other man's ear. "Don't wake him. Just
shoot him, then get close enough to make sure he’s dead."
They split apart with each going down opposite sides of the bed. It was still
too dark to see who was in the bed. They worked quite well together, staying
aligned with each other as they moved along the bed.
The 911 operator's voice broke the silence as she tried to get a response from
the caller.
"God damn!" The surprised driver shouted. "Someone’s on the
telephone over here. That fucker heard us come in."
The other man moved quickly around the bed. Groping for the phone in the dark,
one of them found it and slammed the receiver down.
Doug knew the wait was over! Firmly grasping the wing tip in his right hand, he
prepared his attack. He took a deep breath, then screaming like a banshee in the
darkness, he charged at the men.
The collision was solid. All three men fell toward the bed; their bodies
intertwined with Doug driving them.
As the shoe’s heel impacted solidly on the first assassin, he gasped to retain
a fleeting consciousness. Doug knew the man had lost control of his gun when it
slammed against the wall across the room.
Doug’s elbow jabbed the second assassin in the side of the head. As the weight
of Doug’s body crashed into him, he punched the man in the face with the back
of his fist.
The trio landed on the bed with Doug in the middle. The first assassin was out
cold. The second one rolled away, sliding onto the floor at the end of the bed.
Doug followed him, hoping to get his hands on the gun. Landing on the man, the
revolver was pushed into Doug’s face. Quickly he slapped at the gun’s
barrel.
He groped for control of the gun with his other hand. Even with Doug’s weight
pressing on the man, he was able to shift the gun back into Doug’s face.
Doug grabbed at the gun’s barrel and pushed it aside.
They rolled until Doug felt the barrel press into his belly. Dread gripped him
as he imagined a bullet ripping his gut.
Adjusting his grip on the assassin’s gun, Doug’s fingers closed around it.
He felt the cylinder starting to turn as the man pulled the trigger. Doug
squeezed hard, preventing it from turning. If he relaxed his grip, the shot
would be completed. He tightened his fingers.
The man struggled to regain control of the gun. Prying at Doug’s fingers, he
grabbed the barrel with his other hand and tilted it slightly toward himself.
Doug relaxed his grip and a muffled shot rang out. The man gasped, knowing that
he had shot himself.
Doug yanked the gun out of the man’s hand and quickly fired a second shot at
him through the darkness. There was another gasp and the man went limp.
Rising to his knees, Doug looked around the room for the second gunman. In the
darkness he imagined a stooped figure in the corner. He fired at the bulky part
of a wispy shadow. The bullet found the other man. He flew backwards and hit the
wall with a thud.
Doug fired a second shot just to be sure. The shadowy figure slumped to the
floor.
The
second selection starts on page 145 of the novel.
Few
people know that most Vietnam Veterans were silent about what happened to
them in Vietnam. As Doug and a friend drive
along the ocean, he recounts a memorable night he had along the coast of Vietnam. 0330 is
military time for 3:30 a.m. Enjoy reading #2.
"Around 0330 I saw it, far out over the cliffs to the east. It was growing
as big as a mountain. I knew I would never forget that morning for the splendor
it provided. I was being treated to a moonrise over the South China Sea.
"It was silvery like a ghost mountain rising from the sea. I watched, as it
grew larger, turning into a giant silver-gray circle like a coin, traveling
upwards through the heavens.
"Tomorrow's monsoon approached from the right side of the moon like an
eerie shadow creeping over the glowing sea. It darkened both the sky and water.
From past experience I knew it would arrive about breakfast.
"A reflected shaft of moonlight stole silently across the shimmering water
to greet my weary homesick eyes. It was not as good as being home but for that
moment I was transported away from sore stinging feet and aching muscles.
"Gone was the lack of sanitation and irregular showers. Gone was the
ever-present stare of hollow, hopeless eyes from people who had waged war for
over a generation. Gone was that lingering uneasiness that I would never go
home, not while I was still alive.
"My dread, fear and daily anxiety were relieved for that fleeting moment. I
knew I could keep my sanity in that hell for at least one more day."
The
last selection starts on page 173 of the novel.
Doug
is scoping out a possible target. Parking briefly in the area, he realizes
the
risk level is high and is reminded of a situation in Vietnam where caution had
been ignored. Enjoy reading #3.
Doug remembered being on that patrol in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. No one
in his platoon took it seriously. Since they had seen no one during the first
four days, they relaxed their guard just enough to get sloppy.
He recalled the unusual sight of ten Leathernecks playing around in the
mountains while keeping only one eye out for Charlie. There was just enough
horseplay for four of them to pay the ultimate price.
Hostile fire erupted from three different directions and completely encircled
them. At first they could not find the snipers who were well hidden in several
clusters of trees and brush a hundred and fifty yards away.
The bright sunlight made the Marines easy targets and shooting back at the
snipers was not easy since their concealment was so good. Their hiding positions
even shielded their muzzle flashes and any rifle smoke when they fired.
Their first round of shots took down Corporal Jones and that new Private First
Class (PFC). The second volley hit the Lieutenant but none of those early hits
was life threatening.
There was no radio on the patrol so they could not call for help. Since it was a
long-range patrol, there would be no one to pick them up or assist them until
the tenth day if they made it safely to sector nine-four-two.
If they failed to get there on time, the choppers were ordered to leave without
them. Everybody knew that was the rule so no one considered being late.
Luckily the snipers had not caught them in the open so it was not exactly an
ambush. They found cover among a few rocks and some lame looking trees.
After ten minutes of not agreeing on the sniper’s location, the Lieutenant
sent four uninjured Marines to find and kill them. The first team scrambled to
the south.
Doug led the second team to the north. He and PFC Hillman ran toward the ravine.
Each carried an M-16 rifle and plenty of extra ammo.
Halfway to the ravine the snipers fired another round. It sounded like many more
as the shots echoed across the hills. The bullets all hit the dirt around Doug’s
feet. He ran harder!
Several feet from the ravine, he dove into the four-foot crevice, preparing to
crawl uphill from there. It was dry and rough. Hillman landed downhill from him
but close enough for his elbows to impact the heel of Doug’s boots.
Two more shots hit the dirt near Doug’s head. Since there were only two, he
thought maybe the third sniper could no longer see him. He crawled uphill
frantically, moving forward as fast as possible.
Ten feet later, two more shots hit the ground somewhere behind him. He called
out to Hillman who was okay but shouted that both bullets had barely missed him.
Doug continued crawling as fast as he could, much like a rodent in a newly
flushed sewer pipe. In another thirty seconds, the firing was no longer directed
at them.
He knew that they had moved out of the sniper’s field of fire and that placed
them out of their cross hairs.
He halted to look around.
Looking down the ravine, Doug could see the patrol scattered below in the rocks
and brush about sixty to eighty feet away from them.
In rapid succession another round of shots filled the air. Unconsciously Doug
measured the incoming sound to determine its source. It seemed to come from
their right.
He moved hurriedly in that direction still going uphill but away from the
ravine. He watched for action ahead as they moved. Hillman walked backwards a
few steps behind him to cover the rear.
They moved slower now but that was the drill. In almost a squatting position,
they waddled along the side of the hill. Their rifles were ready to fire at
anything that moved. Since both of them were now in the open, making a wrong
move meant that they could easily get wounded or killed.
On the next ridge Doug saw a small cluster of trees about twenty feet across. He
stopped without signaling and Hillman bumped into him. They hit the deck then
watched until the next round of shots shattered the midday air.
They agreed one of the shots had come from the trees on the next ridge. Finally,
they had located one of the snipers. It would only be a matter of time until he
was silenced.
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