Ortega couldn’t move. He would have to wait for the offensive to be over and hope that the Vietcong didn’t find him first. If the Vietcong came into that apartment, they’d have killed him and the family hiding him because that is the way the Vietcong used to work. Given the physical state he was in, there wasn’t anything he could do to protect them especially if only standing seemed to be an endeavour.
Ortega therefore simply accepted the fact that this was the way it had to be for now and decided to tell the Vietnamese police officer about his jump instead.
“Absurd this story is” the police officer replied after hearing Ortega’s tale.
“No, seriously, I really did use the cable to swing onto your terrace”
“Weak cables can't hold no person. Can stand lamps over streets only”
“Just look outside if you don't believe me”
“You Americans are all idiots. Anyway, forgive me my gun. You Americans make whores pregnant rob from houses and rape women”
“Whatever you say man, you’re right. Hey, give me a break Johnny, come on out of there”
Rambo moved out of the shadows behind the police officer and a moment of silence ensued.
“There's no need to worry about him man” assured Ortega.
“This is Johnny a mate of mine. Welcome Johnny! Exactly how long have you been there?”
***
An hour later the shots had become few and far between.
Ortega was lying down while Rambo sat on the floor in front of him lighting his zippo on the floor as if they were around a campfire or something.
Ortega was in so much pain, he was sweating.
“Debriefing?” he said with a broken voice.
“I fucked up,” said Rambo.
Ortega grinned and Rambo continued:
“I couldn't get rid of all five of them with my handgun alone. We shouldn't have ended up in there. I messed up Ortega”
“Whatever, it doesn't matter now anyways”
That night they’d both made some mistakes and they knew it.
“Now get some sleep boss”
“I don't think I can Johnny, everything hurts. You don’t know what I’d give for a shot of morphine right now”
“You sleep and I’ll do watch”
All night long time seemed to speed up and slow down as Ortega repeatedly woke and drifted back to sleep because of the pain.
When the first beams of blue light started streaming in through the window in the door, Rambo was looking down at the road as he stood as frozen as a statue by the door.
Ortega would have given anything to know what was going on in his head.