<strong>Between Lang Vei and Khe Sanh:   Observation post</strong><br/><br/>Sergeant Fields, Corporal Blacke, Agent Mackenzie<br/><br/>The odd patch of ground is odd indeed.  18 meters long, six meters wide, and compressed.  The grass, a few saplings are crushed into the ground.  Whatever made it doesn’t seem to have been much bigger than a large transport helicopter, but was far heavier.<br/><br/>A sharp whistle from the tree line is heard, two of the marines on picket duty are bracketing six civilians.  Gren Crevacoeur in the lead, four bearers, Tex in the rear, holding his rifle over his head.  He has one of the older M-14s, still capable of full automatic fire.  He is the envy of every jarhead in Nam.  Everybody knows Gren, she makes sure of that.  Little favors for everybody, big favors for nobody, smuggler and scrounger par excellence.  Small, no more than five-two, shockingly blonde hair in a bob, and milk-pale skin.  Nobody knows how she manages that, she is out in the sun all the time.  She blames her broad-rimmed hats, and lots of sunscreen.<br/><br/>“Three of my favorite people.  “Mac, Fields, Hey deadeye!” Soft Parisian accent, unflappable calm, for a woman out in the bush, drop dead gorgeous.  She cocks her head at the bunker, her eyes flick from the odd ground to the post and back.  “America’s best cleaning up after a night’s work?”  She chats idly with anyone who approaches her, little bits of interesting but not vital information concering the activities of both sides in the area.  She confirms that the Communists are scared blind and pulling back to cover Laos.<br/><br/>The usual small talk of Nam, really.  She is noncommittal of what she is carrying and to whom. A brief radio check as to what to do with her, and she is released to go on her way.  Shortly thereafter, Command directs LT Brwers to fery the team back to Khe Sanh.  It’s a tight ft but the range is short.  The chopper lands at Khe Sanh just before dusk.<br/><br/><br/><br/><strong>Vientiane and outskirts</strong><br/><br/>Gervais and Rawlinson<br/><br/>The capitol is crawling with troops.  Most of the small Laotian army seems to be concentrated here, the tiny airfore complement is fueled up, armed up and ready to take off.  The populace however, is far more relaxed. Despite the anxiety of the government, life goes on.<br/><br/>The meeting with the Foreign Minister is a surprisingly good dinner, but that is the best that an be said of it.  Fortone thing, Gervais and rRwlinson do not meet with the Foreign minister, but a junior official.The man gratefully accepts Rawlinson’s assurances of Allied support, but insists that Laotian Neutrality is not necessary.  Ssave for enlightening conversation between the French spy and the Australian diplomat, very little is learned.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>