It was nighttime on the streets of Hanoi. The entire plane ride to Vietnam had been painfully uncomfortable and awkward. Gordon had each member of Grant's team sit in between or next to one of his men.

The smell of delicious broth filled Grant's nose. Gordon gestured them into a humble restaurant called "Pho Hanoi Dynasty". They all sat on cheap stools positioned around wobbly tables. Across the street was a restaurant called Pho 21. At the front of Pho 21 was a middle aged lady stirring a massive cauldron of broth with a determined look on her face.

"I'm guessing they are in competition, "said Grant, pointing at Pho 21 behind him. A few civilians on moped scooters passed by noisily on the dirty narrow street between the two noodle shops.

"Yes but take my word for it," said Gordon, wiping the table. "This place is better. Pho 21 isn't as generous with their herbs though I think one can make a case for their broth being richer."

"It seems your a real expert on pho," said Makenna.

"This is the eleventh time I've been to Vietnam," said Gordon. "And believe me I don't take my travel opportunities for granted. I'm twenty seven years old and I've been to dozens of countries."

"What exactly do you do for a living?" Frankie asked, poking a chili cause jar on the table. "Or your family if your wealth is inherited."

"Oh my Dad owns a company called none of your fucking business," said Gordon. "Now shut up and let me order us some refreshment."

Gordon spoke Vietnamese to the waitress in a polite tone before turning back to Grant.

"Your lucky to have come this far," said Gordon. "After all your not really an expert on this sort of thing."

"That would be Frankie," said Grant. "I've had some rather lucky run ins though."

"Right," said Gordon, smiling. "It seems that fate led you to the journal though I don't believe in that kind of crap. Your out of your depth kid and your luck has run out. Admit it you don't know jack shit about Vietnam beyond what you read on a random internet article."

"I know what pho is at least," said Grant waving to the cooks busy in the open kitchen by the front.

"Yes everyone knows pho," said Gordon impatiently. "It's quite a popular dish and I don;t blame them. It is the most fucking delicious bowl of noodle soup in existence and there is nothing anyone can say to convince me otherwise."

Monty cleared his throat. "Well Japanese ramen is pretty---"

Gordon flashed a menacing look at Monty, forcing him into a full stop with his words. "You got something to say?"

"No," Monty whispered.

Gordon slid Grant a paper menu. "I just ordered us cane sugar sugar for drinks. I'll let you all order what you want."

Grant looked down at the menu blankly. There were no pictures, just Vietnamese words and prices."

"Oh I'm sorry I thought you knew Vietnamese cuisine very well," said Gordon with a smug grin.

"Well I know that the pho ga is like a chicken sort of deal," said Grant.

"You had chicken in Hainan," said Gordon, his grin getting more smug. "Why don't we change it up a little?"

"Well...."

"How about some cold noodles instead huh?" said Gordon, pointing down at his own menu. "Could be worth a try since you already familiarized yourself with the soup stuff in the states. Wanna go for some Bun Thang?"

"Is that beef or pork?"

Gordon raised an eyebrow at Grant before looking back down at the menu. "Maybe not your style. Perhaps something more refreshing in this heat like Goi Ga Bap Chuoi?"

"Why is it more refreshing? Does it contain mint?"

"Yeah I figured you weren't a salad guy," said Gordon with a chuckle. "Something more hearty I guess."

"I'll have the pho bo with chin and nam," said Monty, looking pleased with himself and locking eyes with Gordon. "With a side of Hanh trn nuoc beo."

"What the fuck?" said Frankie, staring at Monty.

"Good choice," said Gordon, before whipping his head back at Grant. "Pho Bo Kho Grant? Something nice thick and meaty?"

"I mean..."

"Don't tell me you've never tried a classic combination of Hu Tieu Nam Vang Nuoc with a half order of Cha Gio Ga."

"Uhhhh...."

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Makenna let out a groan. "Grant will have a bowl of pho bo with tai ok? That's the steak right?"

Gordon leaned back in his seat, his victory complete. "I suppose it is what grant would be familiar with what he's had back in the states. One bowl of steak pho with the big boy it is."

The noodles came quickly, served with a heap of herbs on a plate placed in the center of the table. Grant had seen these condiments and toppings at pho restaurants back home but never so varied and generous in quantity.

Grant put some bean sprouts in his broth with Gordon watching. His reaching for the thai basil was met with a tsk from Gordon.

"How elementary," said Gordon. "Yes every pho place in the U.S. serves thai basil but what about these?" he gestured over some long leaves with serrated edges. "Sawtooth herbs. Oh even better, rice patty coriander. The mint can go great, wrapped around the juicy slices of meat too."

Monty reached for the hot sauce but was stopped when the henchman sitting beside him grabbed his wrist.

"Don't you dare," said Gordon. "Don't you add one drop of any of these sauces into that broth. You wanna taste hoisin or la yu that bad then you take some and mix it with water but we are here to taste that divine beef broth."

Gordon pointed at the kitchen staff who were busy filling bowls with soup, noodles, and toppings. "See that skinny man in the blue t shirt and apron?"

"Yeah?" said Monty, slowly moving his hand away from the sauces.

"That's uncle Hien," said Gordon. "Guess how long he's been watching that cauldron of broth?"

"Uhhhh...."

"Twenty four hours that broth has been simmering," said Gordon, his voice getting emotional. "He wakes up at 4 in the morning to open shop here and cut vegetables, stir the broth."

Grant tasted the soup after adding some herbs. It was indeed divine. The soup was light in taste yet deep, a thin layer of fat and oil sitting at the surface, gently coating every spoonful with just the perfect amount of greasiness. The slices of steak were tender and flavorful, wrapped in the ever so subtle sweetness of the rice noodles when placed on the tongue. The crunch and little bursts of herbal flavor from the cilantro, scallions, and bean sprouts was the ideal icing on the cake. The once cold and exotic herbs had been warmed by the soup, a great deal of their flavor seeping deep into the broth as they soaked.

"I think I just came," said Gordon, his face the absolute picture of ecstasy.

"Yeah I'm almost there," said Grant, struggling to not wolf down his meal too fast.

Suddenly Makenna's bra, which had been made more visible through the shirt by sweat, lost all of its sex appeal. Only thoughts of pho swam through Grant's mind.

Grant glanced back at Pho 21. He wondered if the competition could even come close. He had a hard time imagining himself liking any other style or interpretation of the pho bo dish, or any other restaurant topping the success he was having with his meal.

"I'm going to use the restroom," said Makenna, locking eyes with Grant. "Can I do that?"

"This place has no back door so there is nowhere to run out of my sight," said Gordon. "So yes you may go piss without my men watching."

"I gotta go too," said Grant. "Maybe after I empty my bowels I'll have room for more pho."

"That's what I want to hear," said Gordon. "But if I suspect you two plotting in that restroom while you wave your sausages around, I'll have your friends here stripped of their skins."

"Fair enough," said Grant. "Be right back."

There was only one restroom with one toilet for the whole restaurant. Grant and Makenna got into the small room. Makenna pulled on a string to turn on the light bulb hanging above their heads before closing the door.

"Makenna is this really the time to make love?" Grant asked. "I mean you look great but...."

"I have an idea," said Makenna abruptly. "It involves the pho place across the street."

"Ok let's hear it."

"I say we start some kind of fight between the restaurant owners. I'm going to need Monty though so find some way to bring him to the restroom without looking too suspicious."

"You got it."

When he got back to the table, Grant pretended to slip and grabbed Monty by the face for balance, forcing his fingers down Monty's throat.

"Jesus Grant what the hell?" Monty managed to gag out. He vomited on the table, causing every to jump back.

"Restroom restroom!" Frankie yelped.

Gordon's henchmen check to make sure their boss wasn't harmed.

"I'm fine,"Gordon growled. "None of it got on me."

About a few minutes after the staged incident, Makenna returned, nodding to Grant as she sat down.

"Well I hope your friend didn't end up throwing up all of his dinner," said Gordon. "Damn shame to waste of this wonderful food."

"I'm sure he is fine," said Grant. "Just needs time cleaning himself up."

Out of the corner of his eyes Grant saw Monty, or at least he was certain it was him. Monty was dressed in kitchen attire and was walking out of the restaurant, heading towards Pho 21.

Monty went up to the staff of Pho 21 working in the kitchen yelled something in Vietnamese. A minute later he was surrounded by the staff of Pho 21, all of them wearing mean faces.

"What on earth is going on?" said Gordon, taking notice.

"Looks like an argument is brewing," said Grant.

Before Grant knew it the workers from both restaurants were face to face in the middle of the street, staring each other down with hateful looks. Grant didn't understand what was being said but he was sure it likely insults and curses. A fist flew out and struck one of the waitresses from Pho 21 on the jaw. Chopsticks flew and tables overturned or thrown. A terrific melee had begun between the two resturants.

"What the fuck?" Gordon yelled, the fight moving towards the customers' tables and knocking bowls of noodles onto the floor. A man slipped on the mess and pulled on Gordon when he grabbed him on the way down.

The entire restaurant had turned into a battleground. Cooks rolled over tables, wrestling each other and a middle aged lady screamed in Vietnamese while he smacked everyone in sight by waving her frying pan wildly.

"Now's our chance!" Grant yelled, grabbing Makenna by the hand.

Frankie almost got left behind, caught between two huge men and their struggle. Rourke shoved aside the people in his way like they were boxes of tissues. Gordon and his men had been swallowed in all the commotion.

Grant quickly ran to one of the cars they had come in. He smashed open the driver's window and pressed the button to pop open the trunk. Inside the trunk was the black duffel bag he was looking for. Grant was glad that Gordon had brought all their luggage.

"Grant there's no way we are running with all out bags" said Makenna.

"We just need this one trust me," said Grant. "Now come on."

They continued down the street, running as fast as they could. Many civilians had come out to see what the commotion was. Grant could hear police sirens approaching. Traffic was building up due to the street being blocked by the fighting.

"Frankie is that what I think it is?" Monty asked as they ran. He had thrown off his chef apron.

"I stole Gordon's money," said Frankie. "I managed to nab it during the fight."

"Frankie you son of a gun," said Grant. "Let's find a hotel far from this place. I want to put as many miles between us and Gordon. Tomorrow we rush off to that treasure."

"But what about the journal?" Makenna said.

"The journal got us as far as it could," said Grant. "The final steps are up to us now."