The Water Puppet Murders

By William Dawson

A traitorous, avaricious, US Military Officer given to brutality and sexual perversions. In an unholy alliance with a nefarious, murderous North Vietnamese General who will stop at nothing to possess a priceless Asian Artifact. And standing against these manifestations of pure evil...just one lone man who still believes that somehow, someway....virtue will still triumph over evil.  Follow Vince Williams as he pursues Colonel Ellender and General Dinh from Vietnam across the world to avenge the deaths of his comrades committed at their hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Dawson
• Release date: Jun 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393635826

Book preview

Chapter 1

Thanh Hoa Province , North Vietnam 1975-0500 hours.

Four members of a covert rescue team exit the lock-out chamber of a submarine lying on the sea bottom at a depth of 120 feet, approximately 3 miles from a deserted beach. The four divers swim quietly toward their landmark, cross the beach and slip into the nearby jungle tree line. Taking only a few moments to check weapons, gear and compass readings they move silently inland to their designated rendezvous point. Some 800 miles to the south Saigon has fallen, panic and terror reigns all across the city, but here in this vast, remote, sparsely populated area of this northern province there is barely a sound. To the world, their formation does not exist but within their clandestine command structure they are designated Unit C. In their closely guarded dossiers they are listed as: Vincent Williams, Team Leader from Baltimore, MD; Eric Roth from Chicago IL; Gordon Martinez from Kingman, AZ; and Allen Ellender from Magdeburg, Germany.

For this mission, the team is outfitted in North Vietnamese camouflage, Chinese-made Jungle boots and armed with Russian- made AKMS 7.62X39 assault rifles and Tokarev TT-33 pistols. Although the Geneva Convention strictly forbids such activity the explanation of the unit’s command is that since they do not exist there can be no such violation.  Three of the men, Williams, Roth and Martinez, take pride in being consummate quiet professionals and have formed a deep friendship over the years through countless missions. Their close friend and regular fourth member of the team was Larry Beck, but at the last moment he was mysteriously transferred to another assignment. He was replaced with a certain Colonel Ellender, an Intelligence Officer from Military Assistance Command-Vietnam.

Orders for this assignment are clear and explicit: upon reaching the designated rendezvous point they are to meet an extremely high level intelligence asset whose life is now in grave danger due to the fall of South Vietnam, place the person under their protection, signal a long-range rescue helicopter awaiting their call in Laos, and bring that person to safety. The meet point is to be at a long abandoned Buddhist temple and cemetery at the junction of two small streams. The location had no name, just a grid reference which was often the case of locations where they operated from Vietnam to Venezuela, Russia to Rwanda. Identification of the asset is in this case simple, even though the person was given a code  name: Pirate, due to being blind in the right eye and with 2 fingers missing on the left hand.  During  their briefing they were told this was due to wounds suffered during a battle as the person was a former patriot. They are also told the person will be alone, speaks excellent English and will arrive at the location through a network of sympathizers and supporters.

The team arrived at the location on time and without incident, and as always they were grateful when things went smoothly but always knew in the back of their minds that things could and often did turn vicious and deadly in a split second. As they approached the area, they automatically moved into a defensive spread and waited for Martinez, the team’s point man to give the all clear. In short time Martinez  reports the area is secure and awaits the team to move up where he is now standing within a few feet of a thin, gaunt, solitary figure seated on a very ancient looking tombstone dressed in traditional Vietnamese working pajamas ( Ao ba ba ), rubber sandals and sampan hat. Two clearly non-traditional Vietnamese items on the ground at his feet are a large well-worn leather valise and an English Stroller umbrella.

Martinez keeps the man covered with his AKMS although his hands are in plain sight, but when he meets the gaze of the one-eyed man, a cold, terrifying feeling resonates through his body as if  he has just seen Satan. He makes the Sign of the Cross over himself. Even though Colonel Ellender knows the man by sight, Williams, the team leader, who is known throughout Unit C as a very careful and deliberate operator, still insists on coming forward to verify for himself the left hand with missing fingers and missing right eye. He informs the man that they must move quickly to a clearing about 2 kilometers away where the helicopter will land. The man says nothing, merely nods in the affirmative, picks up his valise and umbrella and moves out with the team. Williams advises Roth, who handles communication, to send the transmission to the helicopter advising they are ready and nearing the extraction zone. At this point Martinez had already moved ahead on the run to scout the nearby landing shortly reporting the all clear.

The remaining team with their Vietnamese charge move through the cemetery toward the landing zone. Williams decides to come out last to make sure they are not being tracked and have left no traces of their presence. When satisfied, he proceeds through the cemetery at a quick pace when something catches his eye causing him to stop and investigate. Although the cemetery is clearly abandoned he observes that one of the oldest looking above-ground tomb stone lids has been pried open but not replaced properly. Also near the tomb he observes boot prints and recently dislocated earth. The lid is off-track about 8 inches as he removes a small flashlight from his rucksack and shines the light inside. As he looks inside he views what appears to be the remains of a human figure now reduced to literally dust and decaying cloth. Grave Robbers? In this remote location and who made those boot prints and where are they now? Perhaps waiting and watching, armed and ready to attack the team? Just at that moment his ears pick up the very distinctive sound of a Russian-made helicopter in the distance. Helicopters of American and Russian design are by now very common all over Vietnam, but nevertheless the sound of a Russian craft approaching makes him very apprehensive. He breaks into a dead run to his team now in the clearing ahead. Something is now very wrong and he fears for their safety. Arriving at the clearing he silently hand-signals the team that enemies could be in the area, as the entire team immediately forms into a defensive circle with their unnamed Vietnamese guest in the middle.

The helicopter is now in sight, a Russian-made Mil Mi-8 flying low and coming straight at them, the pilot makes one pass over them circles once and lands expertly. Williams notes that flying like that can only come from being highly experienced and confident at the controls, very impressive. The wheels of the chopper had barely touched the ground when the team virtually lifted the elderly Vietnamese aboard and started to load themselves. Ellender is first inside behind the man and in one swift motion produces a hidden Makarov 9X18 pistol from inside his jacket and turns and fires one round into the forehead of Roth who is directly behind him. Roth falls from the craft at the feet of Martinez who at that moment looks up in sheer disbelief at the Colonel, who then proceeds to shoot him directly in the forehead as well. Williams, who had been standing with his back to the craft to cover his men from anyone coming up from the tree line, turns to see both men down and runs toward the craft and observes Ellender standing in the doorway as the chopper is lifting away pointing the Makarov at him. Williams raises the AKMS to fire at Ellender and the craft but at that moment he is struck by two rounds, one to his chest and one to his stomach, falling backward into the muddy field. As the chopper lifts away Ellender exchanges a sinister smile with the Vietnamese man and slides the loading door closed.

After tedious hours in the air flying below radar level and a stop for refueling, the Mi8 landed on a private strip adjacent to a sumptuous residence on the outskirts of Vientiane, Laos. The only crew aboard were Soviet Air Force pilots Lyov Borovsky and Vasya Shikov. For the last year they had been part of a Soviet Spetsgruppa Advisory Unit secretly assisting the North Vietnamese Military. They despise the heat, humidity and jungles of Vietnam but also loathe the idea of going back to Mother Russia only to be stationed at some remote freezing airbase behind the Urals, poorly paid and fed. So, when they were approached one evening while at their base near Hanoi by a well- dressed Vietnamese man speaking very good Russian who made them an incredible offer, they thought they had been handed the keys to the kingdom. The man needed several things from them, stealing an Mi8 helicopter for a secret flight from Vietnam to Laos, plus silence and secrecy no matter what they saw or heard. Both knew accepting the man’s proposal meant nothing short of being executed or in Russian vernacular Vy khotite, svoyu pulyu  seychas (would you like your bullet now?). The man however, interjected that with great risk comes great reward. For their work each would receive $1 Million in cash, gold or diamonds, including perfectly forged passports and new legends to any country of their choice. To validate his sincerity, the man handed each a small package from his valise containing $100, 000. The pilots viewed the money in sheer amazement, smiled and the deal was struck. Now that they had landed and finished their part each was expecting the remaining payment and their new lives. As they watched their Vietnamese passenger being driven away toward the house in a beautiful Mercedes sedan, Ellender came forward to the cabin with an attaché case which they were certain must contain their new found fortune and passports. They were terribly mistaken, since instead of money Ellender again withdraws the Makarov, calmly shoots each pilot twice in the head and exits the helicopter as two clean up men come aboard to dispose of the bodies and the craft.

Thich Vu Tran who had just recently passed his 85th year on the earth, but who moved with the stamina and gait of a man half his age, quietly led his small band of fellow Buddhist Monks up the steep mountain paths to the site of their formerly occupied temple. Since the war began, over 10 years ago now, they were ordered to leave as the People’s Army of North Vietnam (PAVN) advised them that the area must be secured for defensive purposes against the invading American forces. Mercifully, through repeated polite, discreet yet persistent requests from Thich Vu Tran they were allowed to return once each week for short periods to care for the ancient cemetery that was adjacent to their now deserted temple. As they cleared the last steep upward path and began to cross the open field that led to their temple they came upon the bodies of three men lying in the open field under the broiling sun. From a distance they thought the bodies to be those of PAVN soldiers given their distinctive camouflage color, pattern and Russian AK-style weapons lying next to them. However, closer examination of the bodies revealed them not to be PAVN but rather Westerners, possibly Americans. They discerned all three to be dead from gunshot wounds given the bullet entry holes in each man’s body and deeply bloodied uniforms. By now they were extremely confused and terrified of their grisly discovery. If they were to report this matter to the nearest PAVN post, they would immediately be arrested, interrogated without mercy, and quite possibly shot, hung or perhaps both, especially given the fact that the men might be Americans, the despised enemy of the PAVN. Fearing for the lives of his fellow monks he made the decision that the three men must be buried in the nearby ancient cemetery and no mention was made to the authorities. The monks carried the men and their weapons to the cemetery site and prepared graves for each man. Having no idea as to the true nationality and religions of the men, as none carried any sort of identification, their only recourse as men of love, peace and prayer was to bury each, chant sutras, light incense and ring Buddhist gongs over each grave. Roth was the first to be placed into the earth followed by Martinez. When at last they began to lower Williams into his resting place, they were completely startled and unsettled when they saw that he had opened his eyes and looked up at them. Somehow, the shots fired by Ellender had missed their killing mark, later it was found that one round had passed cleanly through the side of his stomach while the second shot aimed at his heart had glanced off the blade of his combat knife which he carried in a scabbard over the left