State of Siege

PROLOGUE

She died while he held her under a brilliant dawn. Her eyelids closed softly, a faint breath rose from her delicate throat, and then she was gone.

Hang Sary looked down at the pale face of the young woman. He looked at the grass and dirt in her wet hair and the cuts in her forehead and across her nose. He felt revulsion when he saw the red lipstick on her mouth, the rouge that had smeared across her cheek, and the charcoal-gray mascara that had run from her eyes to her ears.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not even here, in a land where the concept of innocence was as foreign as the dream of peace.

Phum Sary should not have died so young, and she should not have died like this. No one should die like this, lying in a windy rice field, the cool water muddy-red with their blood. But at least Phum had died knowing who it was that held her in his arms. At least she didn’t die as she’d probably lived most of her life, alone and uncherished. And though the search that Hang had never quite abandoned was over, he knew that another was about to begin.

Hang’s knees were raised and his sister’s head was in his lap. He lightly touched the cold tip of her nose, the fine line of her jaw, her round mouth. A mouth that always used to smile, regardless of what she was doing. The girl felt so small and fragile.

He pulled her arms from the water and laid them on the waist of her tight blue lamé dress. He cuddled her closer. He wondered if anyone had held her like this in ten years. Had she lived this horrible life the entire time? Had she finally had enough and decided that death was preferable?

Hang’s long face tightened as he thought about her life. Then it exploded in tears. How could he have been so near and not have known it? He and Ty had been in the village, undercover, for nearly a week. Could he ever forgive himself for not having seen her in time to save her?

Poor Ty would be inconsolable when she learned who this was. Ty had been in the camp reconnoitering, trying to find out who was behind this. She had radioed Hang to let him know that one of the women had apparently tried to escape shortly before sunrise, when the watch changed. She’d been chased and shot. Phum had taken the bullet in the side. She’d probably run, then walked until she could no longer move. Then she must have lain down here to look at the waning night sky. Phum used to look at the sky a great deal when she was a little girl. Ty wondered if that sky, the memories of a better time, had given his little sister any peace at the end.

Hang slipped his trembling fingers through his sister’s long, black hair. He heard splashing in the distance. That would be Ty. He’d radioed his partner that he’d spotted the girl and saw her go down. She said she’d be there within a half hour. They had been hoping, at least, that she could give them a name, help them break the monstrous union that was destroying so many young lives. But that didn’t happen. Seeing him, Phum only had the strength to say his name. She died with her brother’s name and the hint of a smile on her bright red lips, not the name of the creature who had done this.

Ty arrived and looked down. Dressed like a local peasant, she stood there with the wind whispering around her. And then she gasped. She knelt beside Hang and put her arms around him. Neither of them moved or spoke for several minutes. Then, slowly, Hang stood with his sister’s body in his arms. He carried her back toward the old station wagon that served as his field outpost.

He knew they shouldn’t leave Kampong Thom now. Not when they were so close to getting what they needed. But he had to take his sister home. That was where she should be laid to rest.

The sun quickly warmed and then baked his damp back. Ty opened the back of the station wagon and spread a blanket amid the cartons. Inside the boxes were weapons and radio equipment, maps and lists, and a powerful incendiary device. Hang wore the remote trigger hooked around his belt. If they were ever caught, he would destroy everything in the car. Then he would use the.357 Smith & Wesson he carried to take his own life. Ty would do likewise.

With Ty’s help, Hang placed the body of his sister on the blanket. Gently, he folded her inside. Before leaving, he looked out across the field. It had been made sacred with her blood. But the land would not be clean until it was washed with the blood of those who had done this.

It would be. However long it took, he vowed that it would be.