She went to the bathroom while Cole paid the bill. Before returning, she splashed water on her face and examined herself in the mirror. She saw the dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes. It had been two nights now with almost no sleep and hundreds of miles of travel. This was not how she imagined it would be when she and Cole took a hotel room together. None of this was playing out how she had imagined. And what was she to make of Cole’s story about how he had come to be in the Philippines? Accepting the existence of an organization like the Patriarchs had required a massive shift in Riley’s pragmatic world view. Now he was asking her to believe they were but one cell in a massive worldwide organization.
She heard Cole outside. “Are you okay in there?”
“Yeah.” She dried her face, unlocked the door, and opened it. “I’m about to pass out on my feet.”
“I know. I can see that. I had the bartender call us a cab, and then he called ahead to a guest house that belongs to a friend of his. It’s owned by a South African woman who came here on a boat and never left. I’m beginning to see that as a theme in Phuket.”
Riley laughed as he led her through the tables. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that myself.”
The Shanti Lodge was one block off a big urban highway, but once inside the compound, it looked like they’d found a tranquil oasis. The combined dining room and lobby was open on three sides overlooking the swimming pool and the various other buildings surrounding it. Lazy ceiling fans kept the air moving and the tropical plants kept it cool. Comfortable furnishings made it seem more like a home than a commercial establishment. One set of steps led up to a platform where guests could get Thai massages, and the rooms were all dark wood, straw mats and bright fabric. The owner, Kim, showed them how to operate the room key to turn on the lights and ceiling fan, and she pointed out the common toilet and shower area.
Cole set his duffel bag down on one of the chairs in their room. “I’ll go down and get us registered. Mr. and Mrs. John Jones.”
“I’m headed straight to the shower,” Riley said as she grabbed one of the towels off the bed.
She stood under the hot water for a good ten minutes. There wasn’t much water pressure, but slowly she felt the knots of tension around her neck, back, and shoulders start to untie themselves. When she turned off the water and opened the shower curtain, she saw herself in the full-length mirror. Not bad for thirty-six years old, she thought. Her belly was flat and she could see the muscles in her arms and legs. There were mornings she didn’t feel like rolling out of her bunk before daylight to exercise before the heat made it impossible, but she followed her exercise routine with twenty laps around her boat. The discipline paid off. Fitness to Riley was less about appearances than it was about a Marine Corps mindset. She had to be prepared for whatever came her way.
She frowned at the mirror when she pivoted around on one foot and examined the scar tissue that reached from the top of her shoulder to halfway down her back. It was difficult to believe it had been six, almost seven years now since that day the bomb went off in the Marine House in Lima. The scarring didn’t look as fresh as it had the first time Cole had seen it, but it hadn’t exactly gone away, either. And never would.
Unwilling to put on her sweaty, salty, filthy clothes, she rinsed them out in the sink, then wrapped herself in her towel and returned to their room. Cole hadn’t returned yet. She hung her damp clothes across the chair backs, then discovered that the light cotton bedspread worked as a sarong with a long end to throw over her shoulder. She was standing in front of the mirror examining herself when Cole came through the door carrying a big tray with food, two more cold beers, and a bottle of water.
“Anybody hungry?” he asked.
“That smells fantastic.”
Cole set the tray down on the big bed and Riley joined him. “I got us three different dishes to try,” he said. “That’s cashew chicken, shrimp fried rice, and green curry fish. Those are the names Kim told me, anyway. I couldn’t pronounce the Thai names.” He handed her a lovely pottery bowl and a fork. “Dig in.”
“Is this your first time in Thailand?”
He nodded as he mounded rice in his bowl.
“But on that recording you made for me, you specifically mentioned Thailand. That’s the reason I’m here.”
He handed her the spoon for the rice. “Those were early days in our research. Everything changed when we learned about Yamashita’s Gold.”
“Okay, so what is it?”
“Hmm.” He finished chewing and swallowed. “That green curry sauce is unbelievable.”
“Cole!”
He grinned and for the first time she felt the intervening years fall away. The beard and awkwardness didn’t matter in the least. He was still the crazy man with whom she had fallen in love.
“You do understand you are asking me, I might even say begging me, to explain a conspiracy theory to you.”
“And you understand that I’ve been trained to kill men twice my own size with my bare hands?”
He took a big bite of his food and then stared at her as he chewed. He swallowed finally. “You have no idea how sexy you are when you talk like that.”
She started to put her bowl aside.
“Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands, one holding his fork over his head. “I surrender. I’ll tell you everything.” He took a deep breath, shoveled another bite into his mouth, and began talking as he chewed. “The theory is that the Japanese amassed tons of loot both before and during World War II by systematically plundering all the countries they conquered. We’re talking robbing temples, museums, the wealthy families’ homes of paintings, statues, jewelry, gold bullion, you name it. Once the Americans took control of the waters around Japan, the Japanese began hiding their stolen treasure in Luzon in the Philippines, deep in caves and the many additional tunnels they dug. The Japanese called it Operation Golden Lily. General Yamashita was in charge of the land-based forces in the Philippines. When the war ended, some OSS guys under General Douglas MacArthur tortured Yamashita’s driver until he spilled what he knew.”
“OSS?”
“Yeah, it’s—”
“I know what it is. It’s just that I’ve heard some of this recently, too.”
“Yeah? That’s probably not good. But let me get to a stopping place: The short version of the rest of the story is that when the driver broke, he told them of the sites he had driven the general to, and these guys dug up tons of gold and priceless artifacts. The ‘them’ we’re talking about here were the OSS guys, some of whom became CIA while others formed the Enterprise. They’ve kept the stash a secret—off the books—deposited in offshore banks under something called the Black Eagle Trust. They’ve been melting down these national treasures and the proceeds have been used to finance black ops ever since.”
“Cole, don’t tell me you’re looking for the rest of this mythical treasure.”
He grabbed a napkin off the tray and wiped the sauce off his mouth. “Not exactly. There’s more to it. But before I go any further, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been hearing about Corregidor and the OSS.”
She told him the story about how she got the letter and what Peewee had told her about her grandfather. When she’d finished, she retrieved her backpack from where she’d set it on the floor, and she pulled out the bundle of wrapped silk. She sat back down on the bed and folded back the corners of the cloth to reveal the gold artifact.
“This is what Peewee gave me.” She held it out to him.
Cole picked it up and turned it around, looking at the fancy filigree writing. “Amazing workmanship.”
“Peewee said it’s called a Tibetan prayer gau and he said my grandfather, who was OSS, got it from a Japanese prince.”
At the word prince, Cole’s head jerked up and he looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s just that Operation Golden Lily was overseen by several Japanese princes.”
“Accord
ing to Peewee, my grandfather had made him promise to give this prayer gau to his son, my dad. But, as you know, my dad’s dead, so he was giving it to me.”
“Is it okay if I open it?” he asked.
Riley nodded. “Yesterday afternoon, when I was at the Temple of the Reclining Buddha to meet Peewee—who never showed—I opened it myself. A monk there told me that the writing on the papers inside isn’t in the Tibetan language at all. It looks like a bunch of symbols or hieroglyphs. He said he thought it looked like some kind of code.”
Cole slid the papers out of the tube. There were three small sheets and he spread them out on the bed. Then he saw that the third sheet was folded in half. He unfolded it and spread it out next to the others. He let out a long, low whistle. “That monk was right. But this one looks like Japanese writing,” Cole said.
She picked up the thin paper and looked at the characters. She held it one way, then rotated it. “I didn’t see this one. How do you know it’s not Chinese or some other language?”
He took the letter from her. “I’ve been looking at lots of Japanese documents lately. Military letters and orders.”
She pointed to the two sheets on the bed. “It’s odd that these two are the right size to fit in the gau, but that one needed to be folded.”
Cole looked up from his study of the Japanese document. “Does that phone of yours take pictures?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Take a quick picture of this and we’ll send it to Theo. Kim said we’ve got Internet here. She wrote the password down on my receipt.” Cole stood up and reached into his back pocket while Riley dug her phone out of her backpack.
She snapped the photo and checked to make sure it was legible. Cole handed her the receipt. As she typed in the password to access the Wi-Fi network, she noticed that the room had been purchased by a Mr. John Jones.
“So, Mr. Jones. To what email address should I send this photo?”
“You’re going to like this. Send it to MVBonhommeRichard at Gmail dot com.”
“Seriously?” She laughed out loud as she typed the email address into her phone.
“Do you have any other email address you could send it from in case someone is monitoring your account?”
She stared at him, started to say something, then just shrugged. He really was the old Cole. Just as paranoid as ever. She sent the email from an account she’d only used once before.
“So that’s the name of Shadow Chaser now,” she said when the email went through.
“Yup. Can you use that phone to make a Skype call?”
When she nodded, he wrote a number down in the margin of the receipt. “Okay, then dial this number.” Once it started to ring, he took the phone from her.
“Hey, Theo. It’s me. I just sent you a photo of a document.”
Riley watched his mouth as he listened to his friend. She really wanted to kiss that mouth, but she would need to rest for just a minute first.
“Yes,” Cole said, “I know it came from a different email address. That’s because Riley sent it.” Cole held the phone away from his ear, and even from the other side of the bed she could hear the enthusiastic whoops that erupted from the phone. “Okay already. It was unexpected, but now that we’re sitting in a hotel room in Phuket, I’m finding it a very pleasant surprise.”
Cole held the phone to his ear for a second, then grabbed a pillow, put it over the phone, and smiled at her. “That Theo,” he said. When he pulled the phone out, he said, “She’s right here, you know. She can hear you. Keep it clean. Listen, can you run that document through your translator?”
Riley felt the exhaustion creeping up to her head. She set her bowl back on the tray and eased back onto the pillow Cole had just been using.
“Already? That was fast. It’s Riley’s. It’s a long story.”
Riley closed her eyes and she felt like she was floating.
“You’re kidding me! Holy shit! After all this time! Right. Paste it into an email and send it back to the same address. I’ll call you later.”
She opened her eyes. “What is it?”
“Theo and I came to the Philippines looking for the Dragon’s Triangle.”
“But Cole, I looked it up and the Dragon’s Triangle is just a big empty piece of ocean.”
“I know. But it’s also the Enterprise code name for their project to find the wreck of a Japanese hospital ship called the Teiyō Maru. The cargo she carried was top secret. They believe she sank sometime in April of 1945, but in Japan and in the US, there are almost no records of this vessel.” He held up the letter. “This letter is from a Japanese Lieutenant Colonel Miyata. And he says she sank in the Babuyan Islands.”
“You sure look excited about this ship.”
“You bet. I’ve got to get back right away. Listen, we can put your boat into a marina where she’ll be safe. Then we’ll fly to the Philippines. This could be the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for.”
“What breakthrough?”
“Obviously, this Peewee guy is with the Enterprise. Sorry, Riley, but he probably never knew your grandfather. My guess is they were using you to smoke me out. You’re not safe here anymore. You’ve got to come with me.”
She opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. “Got to? So, now it’s all about you?”
“Surely you don’t think it’s a coincidence that he gave you these documents when I happen to be searching for this wreck?” He held up the letter.
“I don’t know what I think right now. I’m exhausted. But I can’t leave my boat. I’ve got my work. I need my computer, my books.”
“Bring ’em with you. I can’t afford to wait two weeks or longer now while we sail your boat to the Philippines.”
She flopped back down on the pillows. “And I can’t leave her.”
“I’ll hire a delivery skipper. She’ll arrive safe and sound. You don’t have to worry about it.”
She rolled onto her side and supported her head in the palm of her hand. “What’s so important about that Maru ship?”
Cole smiled. “In addition to the gold?”
“Shoulda known.” She wasn’t sure she could keep her eyes open much longer. “Yeah, in addition to the gold.”
“Well, not much. Just a map to the mother of all treasure sites in the Philippines.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s all.” Her head fell back on the pillow and she gave in to the welcome darkness.
Ao Chalong
Phuket, Thailand
November 19, 2012
When Riley opened her eyes the room was pitch-black, and she didn’t know where she was. Her heart rate kicked straight into high gear. The ceiling fan turning overhead groaned in a regular rhythm, and she tried to prevent herself from hyperventilating. Then she heard a long snore. Moving only her eyes, she took in the lump of a body lying next to hers on the bed. The odor of soap and warm male skin jogged her fully awake. Cole. Shanti Lodge. She must have fallen asleep while he was talking to her. More like passed out. Oh, God, she thought. Why was she so inept at romance?
The air from the overhead fan was quite cool, and he had covered them both with a light sheet. He was sleeping on his side, facing her. The bedspread was gone and she lay there naked under the sheet.
The tray of food was gone, and he smelled like he had showered. This, their first night back together, hadn’t exactly been the passionate night of lovemaking she’d imagined it would be.
He could have awakened her if he’d really wanted her. But then he had been able to get a good look at her scars when he removed the bedspread and covered her with the sheet. Billy had never had a problem with shaking her awake when he wanted sex. With Billy, though, she’d always insisted on wearing a T-shirt to bed. She had no problem with him reaching under the cloth to touch her breasts, but he didn’t need to see the scars on her back.
Cole was the only man—other than her doctors—who had ever seen her shoulder and back, who had touched her scars.
Rile
y rolled onto her side, facing him, and studied his face in the shadows. She began to remember what they had been talking about the night before. He’d been so excited about the letter in the prayer gau, and he’d been certain Peewee had never met her grandfather and the whole story had just been a ruse so that she would lead Peewee and the Enterprise back to Cole.
It didn’t fit. Either that old man was one of the world’s best actors or he really had known her grandfather. Cole was wrong on this one, she was sure.
He said he wanted her to go back to the Philippines with him. But, of course, she was the one who had these documents Cole wanted. His idea was for her to go back to his boat in the Philippines with him, to leave her boat there in Phuket, and then have some professional delivery skipper take Bonefish to Subic Bay later. She knew she was supposed to find it sweet that he wanted to protect her. But there really was something demeaning about the fact that, after all these years, he suddenly didn’t think she could take care of herself. And she had her own mystery to solve in the Philippines. Riley wanted to find out the truth about what happened to the USS Bonefish and Ozzie Riley, her grandfather. She needed to understand how her father had known to name all his sailboats Bonefish.
Besides, she couldn’t imagine anyone else sailing her boat. She was the only one who really knew all the little idiosyncrasies of her Bonefish. She had made so many upgrades to all the boat’s systems, including security. It was no longer a standard Caliber 40.
And then there was her work. She had recently received the blueprints of a mega-mansion some country singer was having built outside Nashville and Mercury Security was waiting for her plans for the state-of-the art electronic security system she was supposed to be designing for them. She could be in Singapore in a week, get the work done en route, and email them the preliminary plans from there. She was accustomed to being alone on the boat, and she doubted she could work with Cole around, anyway. He would just be a distraction.
He would fuss at her, saying he just wanted to protect her. Now that she thought about it, the main emotion he felt toward her seemed to be pity—like he thought she needed to be looked after. He’d been off having adventures while this poor damaged woman was sailing around mooning about him. No wonder he’d kept his distance.
Dragon's Triangle (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 2) Page 15