1. The Hill That Didn't Exist

The hill was not on any map. Captain Dung had checked three times, comparing the crumpled topographic sheet against the slope rising in front of them through the morning fog. Nothing. As far as Command was concerned, this ground was flat. Flat and clear and suitable for a supply corridor. "Command is wrong," said Sergeant Hieu, crouching beside him with his rifle across his knees. Hieu had a gift for stating the obvious with complete calm. "Command is always wrong," said Private Tan from behind a tree, "but usually not this spectacularly." Dung counted heads. Twenty-three soldiers. One medical officer. Half rations for two days. They had been cut off from the main column forty-eight hours ago when the eastern bridge went down—blown by the enemy, though nobody could confirm whether it had been deliberate or a miscalculation. Either way, the battalion was now twelve kilometers behind what should have been a clear line, with an unmarked hill between them and the extraction point. And the hill, as Dung could see through his binoculars, was not empty. Movement in the tree line. Not animals—the spacing was wrong, too regular. He counted six positions before he stopped counting and made a decision. "Pull back twenty meters. Quietly." They pulled back. Nobody argued. After forty-eight hours together under fire, this unit had learned that Dung's gut was usually right, and when it wasn't, arguing cost more than obeying. In the hollow behind the tree line, Dung spread the map on the ground and looked at his team. Twenty-three faces. Some young enough to still look surprised when things went badly. Some old enough to have stopped being surprised at anything. "The extraction point is on the other side of that hill," he said. "That hill has company." "How much company?" asked the medic, Dr. Phuong. She had been a field surgeon for six years and asked questions the way she worked—directly, without flinching. "Enough to matter." He studied the map. "There's a river two kilometers east. Might be crossable." "Might be," Hieu echoed. "It's either that or we go through." Silence. The fog moved through the trees. Somewhere above them, a bird called once and stopped. "Captain," said Tan, "what would you do if it was just you?" Dung looked up. "I'd go through." "Then let's go through." Nobody cheered. Nobody needed to. They picked up their weapons and followed him back toward the hill.