by John L. Hart
32
“Where are they?” Kate kicked aside the blankets on the deck as if two grown men could be hiding under them. Turning her glare on Mike Gallini, she demanded, “Where could they have gone? You were supposed to be in charge of watching them last night. Didn’t you hear something, see anything? They can’t just disappear.”
“Ma’am, I’m—I’m sorry but I must’ve drifted off. Not for long, but—”
“Apparently long enough that we have two MIA passengers. Have you done a head count? Is anyone else missing?”
The lead mercenary, who had directed the boat to stop in an inlet and drop anchor, stepped forward. “You want to see Poppy King? Yes? No?”
For a moment Kate gripped the side of the boat, trying to make the world stop spinning faster out of her control. She had choices to make, important choices, and she needed her head on straight to do it. So far, in her first official capacity as an undercover operative, she wasn’t exactly batting a 1000. If she wasn’t careful this whole new career would be over before the day was out, and then she may be viewed as a liability that knew too many secrets. From Phillip’s perspective, Gregg and Izzy possibly already did, despite her assurances otherwise. Could it be that Gregg’s distrust of her ran so deeply he preferred taking his chances by jumping ship and swimming to shore in the dark? Izzy couldn’t swim, but Gregg had practically grown up on a surfboard and he would never leave Izzy behind. That meant they left together so at least they could watch out for each other.
She had done what she could to protect them.
She could not be held responsible for their own misjudgments.
And, who knew? Maybe they had made the better judgment call.
She had to cut them loose. For now, anyway. She had to salvage something from this mess. Trying to find them would just demonstrate to Phillip that his faith in her was misplaced because she could not get her priorities straight.
Kate stiffened her spine, elevated her chin, and met the leader eye to eye. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s why we’re here.”
“Then we go. Now.”
He turned and Kate caught his arm. It felt like steel wrapped in flesh, reminding her too much of how JD felt beneath her hands.
She abruptly broke contact and said, “Wait.” She needed to buy some time, try to contact Phillip on the probably useless SAT phone, and increase whatever slim chance there was of Phillip’s men catching up. Without detection. While the leader of the band might like the idea of getting Pirate points with the lady who had the equivalent of an engraved invitation to a hidden fortress, Phillip’s black ops group wasn’t invited to the party. No matter who these mercenaries were ultimately working for—Paulu, or as independent contractors who would turn on him as soon as a better opportunity arose—they would surely balk at leading even a small elite force directly to a ruler who could retaliate against them, possibly even their families.
“Yesss?” The aspiring Pirate drew out the s as if the snake on his face was hissing.
“Can you give me just a little time to get my things together?”
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
“It won’t take long,” she quickly added.
He scanned the river in all directions, then moved his attention to the shore, suspicious.
Kate wondered if Gregg had been right. Maybe she was a lousy actress. But she did have something she could use to her advantage. She hoped.
“I have woman things to see to.”
He made an uncomfortable grunting sound. “Make quick,” he decided. “Then we go. Just you.”
*
Mouse had to give the lady points. Big Snake didn’t want him tagging along but Kate got her way and brought him anyway, even managing to slip him a loaded canteen with a bomb inside for insurance. He wasn’t sure what she was packing in the satchel she’d brought up after taking a little too long for Big Snake’s liking—but she’d gotten a move on after Mouse yelled down that Boss Snake had jumped ship and was already heading for the jungle, along with most of the other snakeheads.
Now him and Kate were watched every which way by the fuckers while they traipsed through the jungle that was making him twitch.
Mouse palmed the Zippo in his pocket while he stuck close to Kate. She had been nice to Missy and he appreciated that. Like telling Missy “no, no” when she offered to come along. He hadn’t seen Missy now for several days himself, and it had started to feel like he was having some kind of withdrawal symptoms. The longer he went without seeing her, the jumpier he got, and the jumpier he got the more shit started messing with his head. Like when the spook went overboard and he freaked while it sounded like KRZY was flipping stations in the background.
“Did you just call me Janis?”
Mouse jerked his attention to Kate, only to have a low-hanging tree limb smack him in the face. Fuck. Maybe not having Missy around to keep him from going bananas was worse than he thought.
“Nah, I didn’t say nothin’ like that,” Mouse told her, keeping his voice low, only to blurt out, “Hey, what’s that jeep doin’ out here?” His eyes adjusting in the dappled light, Mouse realized the camouflaged jeep, blending with the terrain, was sitting on a rough road that looked like it had just cropped up in the middle of nowhere.
“You want to walk?” Big Snake asked. “Long way to Poppy King.”
With a wave of his hand the other snakeheads took off. Mouse had quit wondering how these guys operated, where they came from or where they went. All he cared about was getting this over with and somehow coming out alive. Maybe Uncle Louie hadn’t bought the trumped up story. Maybe some good old Jersey boys dressed in army fatigues were out looking for him now. Uh-huh, and just maybe he’d stumble across some ruby slippers out here and click his way to Australia instead.
For what felt like forever they rocked and several times nearly rolled over pits and puddles and all that other jungle crap that reminded Mouse of a Tarzan film set. Because it helped keep KRZY tuned down, he thought about Tony, about Aunt Rosa, about all his stateside family. And Missy, of course. Then all he could think was if he fucked this up before he could kill the mad rabbit, they could all be toast and—
The jeep came to a grinding halt in front of nothing in particular, just another stupid jungle wall of vines and pretty red flowers.
Big Snake ordered, “Out.”
“What, now we’re walkin’ again?”
Big Snake looked at Mouse like he was about to be as dead as the spook if he didn’t hop to. Mouse got out and Kate did the same, asking, “How close are—” when Big Snake hit the horn along with the gas, peeling around in the direction from which they’d come and leaving with a long honk, like he wanted the whole jungle to know they had to be the biggest suckers of all time.
“Hey, hey! Where’re you goin’?” Mouse yelled after him, and raced to pick up Kate’s little satchel that the asshole had flung out just before he split.
As Mouse handed it to Kate, the wall of vines and flowers began to shake and dance and hol-ly shit! A huge gate swung out with all the vines and flowers attached to it, and then came a line of armored personnel carriers, all firing over their heads, and behind them rolled out two tanks. What the ...? Before he could blink, at least two full companies of running, tiger-fatigued commandos spilled from the gates with AK-47s, circling him and Kate.
While Mouse frantically gripped the bomb canteen with one hand, his Zippo with the other, KRZY was suddenly drowned out by an ear-splitting shriek.
Striding more ponderously than Uncle Louie’s fat niece came a huge, white elephant, all dressed up in red and gold silk, with shining poppies embroidered on the cloth, like it was the star of a Ringling Brothers circus act. Then out came another white elephant and then another, and then the most freaking humongous elephant of all.
And sitting on top of it was ...
Mouse did a double t
ake. Uh-uh. No fuckin’ way. If this was The Poppy King, then he was the King of Siam.
33
Kate had never seen a picture of Zhang but she had formed one in her mind after knowing JD held his step-brother in near-reverence, followed by all the references from Phillip and those in the cartel who felt safer killing him than brokering a deal. She had been expecting a larger-than-life, Samurai-type warrior.
Perhaps up close he would look more like a ruthless killing machine instead of a diminutive prince, decked out in a ceremonial robe, a headdress, and a sweet smile. When he waved a small, ring-laden hand, the armored carriers stopped firing in the air, the tanks came to a halt, and the fatigue-dressed commandoes came to attention, guns at ease.
Even the elephants went quiet.
His voice about an octave higher than Kate had previously imagined, Zhang called out in perfect English with a hopeful lilt, “You would be Kate?”
“I am,” she called back, wondering if she was having some kind of hallucinogenic back-flash.
“Welcome, welcome, my dear! And where is JD?”
“He . . . he isn’t here.” That was all she dared say until she could appeal to Zhang, minus an audience. Good God, there had to be over two hundred soldiers surrounding them, with no telling how many more inside. “But he gave me a letter to deliver to you.”
Kate started to open the small attaché bag she had prepared—only to hear the collective click of every gun surrounding her and Mike.
Zhang shouted a command. The guns went down.
She had always loved adrenaline rushes, but she felt she might pass out from the burst of fight or flight instinct flooding her veins. She managed to get the letter out of the satchel filled with innocuous-looking spy paraphernalia, and then held JD’s letter in the air, her hand visibly shaking.
“Come,” he instructed, but when her feet momentarily refused to move, he assured her, “You are my guest. Please approach.”
The guards parted just as the camouflaged gate had. She felt Mike Gallini so closely behind her, he literally had her back. Kate never thought she would be this grateful to have him nearly touching her, and yet she also felt like a human shield; as if he was protecting himself as much as his charge. Distantly she wondered, An occupational hazard? Something I should get used to: everyone watching their own backs while pretending to watch mine? And if I do get the respect my mother never had with the big boys, will I become one of them?
Up close Zhang looked even more like a sweet little Dalai Lama, smiling beatifically down at her as she extended the envelope, bearing a painted poppy, that he couldn’t quite reach. His laugh was a tinkling sound, like wind chimes, and he gave a command to the elephant. The animals were commonplace in certain areas of the country, but this one, rare in color and obviously highly trained, responded to Zhang’s command by twitching its ears, and then reaching around with its long snout to push Mike out of the way before scooping her up from just below her buttocks. Hoisted high into the air, she was too startled, and too thrilled, to do more than gasp while Zhang held out his bejeweled hand.
Kate took it and awkwardly lunged onto the elephant to sit behind Zhang. The satchel with all her gizmos that could pass for girl stuff, along with a change of clothes to help proclaim their innocence, rested between her chest and his back, and she steadied herself with her hands on his slight, taut shoulders.
“I will read my brother’s letter once we have our privacy,” he told her. “Until then, tuck it away, relax, enjoy, and know you are safe, my dear.” He gave another command to the elephant, followed by one to his well-armed troops, and they all returned inside the hidden fortress. Kate had only seen it portrayed as a nebulous spot somewhere within a big circle that was earmarked to be destroyed. That was the closest the CIA and its dark-camp associates had been able to determine.
Were Phillip’s men watching from jungle cover? Would he and Paulu soon be privy to the exact coordinates that had eluded all the top talent at the CIA and beyond on this mission? Barring a miracle, the answer was almost assuredly no. But now that she was here, she wasn’t entirely unhappy about that. The backup that was supposed to follow her would then find a way to slip in, and she wasn’t confident their only purpose would be to watch out for her. Besides, she thought with an urge to laugh, who needed a pack of commandos when she had Mike Gallini?
“Hey, where ya goin’? What about me?” he shouted.
Kate looked back and down at him, and just for a moment he seemed more expendable than he had a few minutes before. It made her wonder if she was already turning into someone she never wanted to become.
“That man has helped me,” she said behind Zhang’s ear. “Can you let him come with us?”
“Since you have requested it? Of course.” Zhang’s gracious concession was followed by another hand signal, another command in the native dialect.
The last she saw of Mike Gallini he was being escorted twenty to one in whatever direction Zhang had decreed. But he wasn’t getting roughed up, didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger, and so she cut him loose. Just as she had Gregg and Izzy.
Kate quickly relegated that dilemma to the increasingly crowded space she had begun to save for later, where her conscience, she hoped, still resided.
Past the enormous gates she and Zhang went atop the huge, pure-white bull elephant draped in silk. It befitted the glowing scene that greeted her of what must have been a deconstructed and then newly rebuilt Angor Wat Palace. The profusion of trees extending a cooling canopy over everything accounted for why the place was invisible from the air. And there was much to hide: exquisite and elaborate marble carvings, flowers and pools and fountains everywhere she looked from the breathtaking advantage of an elephant. The Poppy King waved to the multitude of men, women and children they passed inside the fortress, all looking well fed and well clothed and quite happy with their tasks as they responded with waves and bows.
Kate’s love of adrenaline highs had gotten her into trouble more than once. The insatiable hunger for a thrill had made JD irresistible and landed her here. But this went beyond adrenaline. It was a moment like none before and, quite possibly, never again. She could only imagine how much The Pale Man would covet every aspect of this, his greed and envy like a living, breathing, carnivorous animal.
Too soon she and Zhang were dismounting to walk across a carpet of fragrant blossoms. His forehead came about to her nose, but he walked with both authority and a spring to his step. Three lovely, silk-gowned girls greeted her with deep bows.
“Go, my dear, refresh yourself,” Zhang bade her. “You may keep the letter and I shall read it as we dine on the best my home and my people have to offer you.”
The reality of her purpose crushed any fantasies the elephant ride had provided.
“That is a very generous offer,” Kate said carefully, “but the letter is only the beginning; and with regard to JD—”
Zhang raised his hand. “New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.” And with that cryptic message, he departed.
For the next few hours, Kate felt like Dorothy in the midst of a spinning tornado, whirling into the Emerald City, and then finding herself in the starring role in the King and I. But she couldn’t enjoy it, not with everything she had to tell Zhang. He had been extraordinarily kind, providing her with every conceivable human comfort and then some. A bath, a massage, a gown made of lotus and silk fibers, worthy of a Chinese empress. A pair of yellow-diamond earrings and a simple gold necklace, with another, slightly larger, yellow drop diamond, completed the ensemble even Madam Nhu would envy. The only thing that didn’t fit were a pair of slippers. She could not fit more than the toes of her size 7 American feet into an Asian Cinderella’s best.
Kate thought back to when she and Missy had played dress up at Madam Nhu’s. She zeroed in on the nail polish Missy had applied to her toes. Kate’s breath caught. Had JD noticed the
m? Surely not, but even if he had, something so minor shouldn’t suggest to him that her incarceration had been anything less than an ordeal. At least, she didn’t think so. Still, it bothered her terribly to wonder if JD suspected that she had betrayed him, just before he died.
Escorted down a corridor and out to an exquisite garden pond and lounge area, filled with heavenly scents, Kate had a knot in her stomach and JD’s letter in hand.
Zhang greeted her warmly, a kiss to each cheek, and sent the servants away.
“Come. Let us celebrate your arrival with a wine that is our finest, but holds no comparison to your presence.”
It reminded Kate of one of the lines she had fallen for with JD.
She placed her hand on Zhang’s as he reached for the bottle.
“You need to read this first. I don’t know what it says. I just know that JD wrote it and said I was to give it to you if something happened to him. I’m . . .” She took a deep breath on top of the one she’d been holding since noticing her still-painted toenails. “I’m afraid something did happen to him. Something terrible. He didn’t survive.”
Zhang was very still, very quiet. His expression gave nothing away. He took the letter. He read it. Shook his head.
“I have always dreaded this day,” he said quietly. “I am sorry you had to bear the burden of being the one to tell me.”
His sympathy felt like hot coals heaped on her head.
“I did love him,” she admitted. Past tense; it was true. And as much as she wished otherwise, it still was, even knowing JD’s own ability to love was deeply compromised. “And I know that no matter what his feelings were for me, JD’s love for his brother was true and beyond that for anyone else alive.”
Zhang nodded, his eyes stoically dry. “And his brother, the same, for as long as he lives.”
“JD would want you to stay that way,” she ventured, treading carefully into the deep water of her true purpose. “And so do I.”