Lies & the Lying Liars Who Tell Them_ A Fair & Balanced Look at the Right - Al Franken [101]
Mai Nu Ky, a battle-hardened thirteen-year-old corporal turned to her commander. “Comrade Colonel, shall we capture the American or kill him?”
Nguyen raised his arm in a signal to cease fire. The highly disciplined soldiers lowered their weapons as Limbaugh waddled toward them. Nguyen turned to Mai. “You may have the honor of executing the giant pig, Corporal.” She raised her weapon and fired once, bringing Limbaugh down with a thunderous thud.
With surrender now out of the question, Gingrich could see only one chance to save his skin. He’d have to trick the other members of his unit into making a suicidal charge against the Swift Boat. With any luck, the Americans would kill each other off, leaving Gingrich with the boat and a chance to escape. “Charge!” Gingrich yelled.
“You charge,” Gramm called back.
“Let’s all charge together!” shouted Buchanan, planning to fake getting shot by falling to the ground and moaning.
“Ready?” yelled Gingrich. “One. Two. Three. Charge!” The three men stood up. Each took a half step before theatrically falling down.
“I’ve been hit!” They called in unison.
The tail end of Kerry’s ammo ran through the .50s and clattered to the floor of the gun tub. “Gore, go below. Grab me some more ammo.”
Gore jumped down into the cabin and opened the ammo locker to find . . . beer. Cases and cases of Lone Star. Putting two and two together, Gore cursed Bush for his reckless betrayal. While Gore understood that alcoholism was a disease and that, to some extent, Bush was not responsible for his own behavior, Gore still felt a deep-seated resentment that would take many years to heal. If he lived that long.
The silencing of the .50s put an end to the three men’s extravagant charade. Gingrich called to the others. “Whatta you say we really charge this time?”
“Really really?” Gramm asked.
The approaching VC made up their minds for them. Buchanan was up first, running flat-out toward the boat and screaming his war cry. Gramm and Gingrich followed close behind, firing their weapons wildly. As they got within twenty feet of the boat, Kerry yelled at both sides to cease fire.
Buchanan was the first to climb aboard. “You’re all my prisoners,” he announced. Kerry grabbed Buchanan’s M-16.
“Gimme that!” Kerry snarled.
Gramm clambered aboard and lay gasping on the deck. Ashcroft and Thomas pulled Gingrich up after him. “VC,” Gingrich puffed. “They’re right behind us. Gotta get outta here.”
Sure enough, the VC were approaching. Without hesitation, Kerry hosed them down with Buchanan’s M-16. Eleven fell dead, including Colonel Nguyen. The other twenty or so, now commanded by Corporal Ky, retreated to the safety of the jungle.
“Where are the other two?” Kerry asked Gramm. “Will and Limbaugh?”
“They’re dead. Let’s go!”
But at that moment Stoner emerged from the underbrush, carrying the head of a VC soldier on the end of a bayonet. He climbed aboard, handed the head to Kerry, went to sit by himself in a corner, and began rolling a thumb-thick doobie.
“Well, Limbaugh’s definitely dead,” Gingrich said. “I saw him go down. He took one in the throat.”
“Help! Help me!” Kerry recognized Limbaugh’s voice from the radio. “The fuckers shot me in the ear! I’m deaf! Oh, God, I’m deaf.” Just then, Limbaugh stumbled out of the darkness, collapsing mere yards from the canal.
Kerry leapt off the boat to help the bloated radioman. Limbaugh threw his arms around the lieutenant’s neck, almost pulling him to the ground. “Save me!” he cried pitiously. “Oh God, please save me.”
Kerry hoisted Limbaugh’s enormous bulk across his back in a fireman’s carry. Staggering under the weight, he walked the last few feet to the boat and tossed him over the gunnels.
“Okay, you satisfied? Can we go now?” O’Reilly asked petulantly.
“Listen up, men. I need you to check your weapons. Then we’re gonna split up into two squads and engage the enemy. Now,