by David Archer
“Of course,” Noah said. “Do they have anything on her? Where she would’ve been taken, anything?”
“Nothing definite, I’m afraid. However, I turned him loose on the whole situation that went down in Pattaya, and it turns out your friend Mr. Pak has some pretty deep connections with the Chinese. The Nay Thas are really just an arm of the Chinese black societies, organized crime groups who run a lot of the Asian sex trade, so it’s a pretty safe bet that China pulls his strings. He doesn’t make contact with them himself, though, he’s got a man working for him who handles his dealings with China. That man is called Lom, and everything I’ve been able to learn says he is ruthless and dangerous. He’s a former Muay Thai street champion, and unsubstantiated rumors claim that he has killed more than a dozen people without ever picking up a weapon.”
“That’s the guy Randy was told to contact. I get the impression he’s the one who handles Pak’s dealings with China,” Noah said, “so he’s probably the one who arranged to hand Sarah over to them. If anyone would know where she is, it would probably be him. Permission to go back to Pattaya and question him?”
“Permission, hell, those are your orders! Your cover identities are still intact, just have our liaison there make the arrangements. Our station chief in Pattaya will provide everything you need on that end. Go get her, Camelot, and bring her back safe.”
“What about Randy? Any idea yet what you’re going to do with him?”
“We haven’t even had the chance to question him, yet. Do you have a suggestion in mind?”
Noah actually hesitated for a moment. “If he was telling the truth, the threat against his sisters was probably more coercion than he could resist. Jenny would cut his throat in a heartbeat; she killed the Korean girl who sold out the CIA people without even finding out what sort of leverage the mole had on her. I doubt he could ever be trusted in the field again, but if his story turns out true, it’s possible he could be useful somewhere else. That isn’t so much a suggestion as an observation.”
“Understood,” Allison said. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
The line went dead as it always did when Allison was done talking. Noah picked up Anna’s business card from where he had laid it beside the phone the night before and started to dial the number, but then remembered that it was still early. He pulled on his slacks and stepped out the door, knocked loudly on Neil’s and then Marco’s, and left his door open as he went back into his own room. He was dressed and ready when they came into his room ten minutes later, and he filled them in quickly.
“I talked with Allison this morning,” he said, “and her liaison and CIA agree that it was most likely the mole at Langley that burned Sarah, using Randy as his messenger boy. The problem is that we don’t have any clue where she’s being held, but it looks like Pak is tightly connected to the Chinese. He has this guy Lom who probably handles all his dealings with them, so we’re leaving ASAP for Pattaya. Mr. Lom and I are going to talk, and I intend to find out whatever he knows.”
“It’s about damn time,” Neil said. “At least we’re doing something.”
They went down to breakfast and ate quickly, then returned to Noah’s room. He called Anna’s office and found that she was already in.
“I’ve already gotten the call from your boss,” she said when she came on the line. “We’re putting together your flight right now, but, frankly, she says this is top priority and could lead anywhere, so I’m setting you up with a private charter jet. A car will pick you up in front of your hotel in twenty minutes, and you’ll be going to the same hangar we left last night. There is a Gulfstream 4 being fueled and ready for you, with a double flight crew so you can be ready to go at a moment’s notice, but here’s a heads up: the flight crews are not, I repeat not, field agents. They’ll fly you wherever you want to go, but they are not cleared for classified information. You’ll take off in about an hour, and land in Pattaya two hours later. Someone from your outfit will meet your plane, so then you’re out of my hair.”
“I appreciate it,” Noah said. “And I apologize if we’ve created any headaches for you.”
“Hey, I’m just being grumpy. I really do appreciate you bringing those folks home safe. I hope you have a great trip, and get what you’re going after.”
The car arrived on schedule and everything seemed to go smoothly. The airplane was smaller than the one that had brought them from San Francisco, but the flight crew welcomed them aboard and the plane was in the air fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. A flight attendant gave them each a large cup of coffee and passed around a box of donuts, keeping Neil happy all the way.
The plane landed, and Noah saw Maggie Lightner, the E & E station chief for Pattaya, standing on the tarmac when the aircraft came to a stop. The flight attendant opened the door and the three men walked down the short steps and straight to Maggie and the car she was standing beside. She had the trunk open so they tossed their bags inside it.
“Good to see you again,” Maggie said with a smile. “I was a little surprised when I got the call this morning that you were coming back. I’m supposed to see to it you get anything you want while you’re here, so just name it.” They climbed into the car, with Neil having to twist sideways because of a lack of legroom in the backseat.
“Weapons, for one thing,” Noah said. “I’m going after someone who may know what happened to Sarah, where she was taken. How are you fixed for backup if I need it?”
Maggie glanced at him, and her eyes were wide. “You mean armed? Honey, I’ve got three other girls and one guy in my office, basically just overpaid secretaries, but we all went through training at Neverland. You say the word, we’ll gun up and do our best.”
Noah looked at her for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the road in front of them. “It’s just a thought, at the moment. If everything goes according to plan, I won’t need it.” He looked back over at her again. “I need a car, too.”
“Okay, first things first. As far as weapons go, my little office here has a nice selection of handguns, as long as all you want is a nine-millimeter Beretta or a Colt forty-five. I got one rifle, an old M-16, and zero automatic weapons. If you need anything other than those, I’ll need to call Bangkok and get somebody on the way down here.”
“Marco and I can handle the .45’s, and let’s give Neil a Beretta. What about a vehicle?”
“Okay, now you have some choices. You can take this Civic, or I’ve got a Toyota Camry. Your call.”
“I think this will do. How long till we get to your office?”
“About fifteen more minutes. Do you need somewhere to stay while you’re in the city?”
“I don’t know yet,” Noah said. “If everything goes well, we may be heading out for China later today.”
“Okay,” Maggie replied. “Let me know, though, so I can make any necessary arrangements for you. Any idea where in China?”
“Not yet,” Noah said, and Neil piped up with, “That’s what we’re here to find out.”
Maggie stopped the car at the terminal, and took them inside to go through customs. Because of her diplomatic credentials—she was officially assigned as a researcher for the US State Department—she was able to get them through in a matter of minutes. The passports stamped, they got back into the car and Maggie drove out of the airport complex.
She pointed out a few interesting landmarks as they rode, finally pulling into an alleyway and tucking the car in behind the building that housed her office. All three of the men followed her in, and Marco blushed slightly when Julie, the girl who had joined them on the yacht a week before, looked up and gave him a finger wave and a wink.
Maggie called out to another woman toward the back of the room. “Trudy, I need two of the .45’s and one of the nines. Give me three magazines for each, loaded, and a box of extra bullets for each one.”
“You got it, babe,” Trudy yelled back. She got up and disappeared into another room, but was back only five minutes later with a box in he
r hands. She set it on a table beside Noah, then reached in and handed each of the men a gun. She instinctively gave the Beretta to Neil, then passed out the extra magazines and boxes of cartridges.
Noah handed the boxes back. “If we run into a situation that requires more than three magazines, we’re probably not going to be in any position to reload, anyway. That would just be extra weight to carry, so you might as well keep it here.”
Maggie nodded to Noah with a smile. “Like I said before,” she said, “if there’s anything in the world more that we can do…”
Noah nodded back once and shook her hand. “I appreciate it, Maggie,” he said. “But we’ve got to get going.” He turned around immediately and walked back out the door. They climbed into the Honda, with Marco letting Neil take the front seat so that he could slide it back, and they were off again.
Noah punched Champions’ Arena, the name of the gym that Pak owned and operated, into his GPS and followed the directions it gave him. According to the app, they were only twenty minutes away. Noah managed to cut it down to seventeen.
He parked on one of the residential streets a block away, and the three of them got out and started walking. They had to go around the block to get to the front entrance, but even though it was still early in the day for a Muay Thai gym, it was standing open when they arrived.
“We’re going in,” Noah said, “but don’t show your weapon unless it’s absolutely necessary. They’ll know we’re carrying them, but as long as we don’t draw, we should be able to keep this on a conversational level.”
“Boss,” Marco said, “some of the guys in there can beat a man to death with their toes.”
“Yeah,” Neil said. “What do we do if they decide to attack?”
“Well,” Noah said with a shrug, “in that case, I guess you can shoot somebody.” He stepped through the front door and a dozen pairs of eyes turned to look at him. One man, the same one who had taken them to see Mr. Pak the last time they were there, walked slowly toward Noah.
“Mr. Pak, he is not here,” he said. “He be back tomorrow.”
Noah put a smile on his face. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’m looking for Mr. Lom.”
The man cocked his head to one side and his eyes narrowed. “Mr. Lom? Why you want to see Mr. Lom?”
“Because I understand he helped take care of the funeral arrangements for my girlfriend last week,” Noah said, trying to sound sad. “I wanted to thank him, but I also have a few questions about how the funeral was conducted. I’m afraid I don’t know that much about your customs, here.”
The man looked into his eyes for a couple of seconds, then turned and motioned for them to follow.
He took them through a door in the back wall, the same one that led to the offices where they had met Pak before. This time, however, he turned to the right and knocked on another door. A voice from inside called out in the local language, and he opened the door and stepped inside, closing it quickly behind him.
A moment later he reappeared, and held the door open wide. Noah, Marco and Neil walked into the room and saw a thin, wiry man sitting at a desk that was facing the back wall. He had turned his chair toward them and looked calmly into Noah’s eyes.
“I am Lom,” he said. “How may I help you?”
Noah glanced at the man who had brought them in, and Lom smiled. He dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and the door closed behind the fellow as he left.
“He is gone,” Lom said. “We need not bother with pretenses. I know who you are, and I am quite certain that I know why you’re here.”
“Do you?” Noah asked. “And why do you think that might be?”
“You do not believe the girl is dead. You have come because you wish to ask where she was sent.”
“You’re half right,” Noah said. “I don’t believe she’s dead, but I didn’t come to ask anything. I know that you are the one who handles Pak’s dealings with China, and I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s gone. What I want to know is how to find her, and I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get that information from you.”
Lom smiled. “And you believe you can wrest that knowledge from me? Perhaps from my dead body, since I see that you are all carrying firearms?”
Noah stared into his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t care if I have to skin you alive. I intend to find out what I want to know. We can do it any way you wish.”
Lom had been holding a pen, and he slowly turned and set it on the desk before he looked back at Noah. “Any way I wish?” he asked. “Then, may I suggest a simple wager?”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of wager?”
“You are young, and have the build of a man who keeps himself fit. You have the muscle definition of one who has been trained in different fighting techniques. I, on the other hand, am well past my fiftieth year. Because of my age, I have great difficulty finding men who will spar honestly with me in the ring. I do not know if you have ever been competitive, but it becomes a form of addiction. I often find myself trying to think of ways to get back into the ring, where I once felt alive.”
“You want to fight?” Noah asked him. “And if I win, you’ll tell me what I want to know?”
“I shall tell you,” Lom said, “simply for stepping into the ring with me. The wager I propose is that you will not do so.”
“And what will the other men in the gym have to say about this?”
“The reward I offer in exchange for your compliance is only between you and me. They will know nothing of it, and I can assure you that they have honor. They will not interfere in the fight, nor in any way seek to trouble your men.”
“Do you plan to kill me in the ring? The information won’t do me any good if I’m dead.”
“I never seek to take a life in the ring,” Lom said. “That is not honorable. I cannot be certain that you will be completely unharmed, but I will make no effort to kill you.” He rose to his feet, and looked Noah in the eye.
Noah nodded once, and turned to open the door. Lom smiled and followed him out, with Neil and Marco bringing up the rear.
SIXTEEN
Sarah spent the rest of the day in her room, even refusing to come out for lunch or dinner. At lunch time, Chung pleaded with her to come and eat, but finally left her door without her. When dinner came, however, he knocked on the door and was holding a tray when she opened it.
“Still trying to be Mr. Nice Guy, huh?” she asked. “I’m afraid it’s not gonna do you any good.”
“Not entirely,” Chung said. “Regardless of whether I gain your cooperation, I am responsible for your well-being while you are in my custody. I cannot let it be said that I allowed you to go hungry.”
Sarah’s eyes flicked down to the tray in his hands. “How do I know it’s not drugged? If you’re not getting the results you want the easy way, how do I know you won’t resort to something a little more drastic?”
Chung actually looked pained. “Would you like me to taste the food for you? I will do so, if you wish. I do not use drugs, Sarah, for I find them as distasteful as torture.”
She stood there a moment longer, then reached out and took the tray from him. She carried it to the small table in her room and set it down, then pulled out the chair and sat down to eat. When she took the cover off the tray, she couldn’t hold back a grin. On the plate before her was a generous serving of lasagna, which she had accidentally confessed was her favorite food.
Chung stood in the doorway for a moment, then cleared his throat. “May I come in?”
Sarah shrugged noncommittally. Chung stepped into the room and pulled out a second chair. He sat down and watched her eat, but didn’t speak.
After a couple of minutes, it became annoying. “If you’re gonna sit there, at least have the decency to offer conversation. No questions, though, I’m done answering questions.”
Chung looked at her for a moment, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “It is lovely weather, isn’t it?”
A giggle
escaped her. “Oh, you’re such a charmer,” she said. “Too bad we’re enemies. I could actually get to like you, if we met under other circumstances.”
Chung’s slight grin grew a bit. “Perhaps I should defect to the West,” he said. “The affections of a beautiful woman could be a powerful inducement.”
The fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “I said I could like you,” she said, glaring at him. “Don’t read more into it than is there.”
“Oh, of course,” Chung said. “There is the fiancé. I will confess that I wish I knew more about him, but I won’t ask. Having come to know you these past few days, I believe he must be an incredible man. Almost a Superman, perhaps.”
Sarah couldn’t catch herself in time; her eyes went wide and suddenly turned to search his own. The crinkle that came into them as she watched told her that he’d learned exactly what he wanted to know.
“On second thought,” she said, “I don’t need any company. You can go.”
Chung let out a remorseful sigh, but he stood immediately and turned to walk out the door. He stopped in the doorway, looked at her for a moment and almost said something, but then he simply closed the door and walked away.
I gave it away, dammit, she thought bitterly. That son of a bitch knows damn well who my fiancé is. He may not know his name, but he’s absolutely certain the man I love is Camelot. Thank God I didn’t tell him more.
Disgusted, she dropped the fork onto the tray and turned away from the table. She sat down in the armchair and turned on the TV, but even the antics of British comics couldn’t take away the feeling that she had made a serious mistake.