“Hello, Gina. It’s been a long time.”
Gina followed him in. “It sure has, Dr. Chai. How’s life at the top of the world treating you?”
“My enemies haven’t found me yet,” he replied. “And I’d like to keep it that way. Who are your friends?”
That was classic Dr. Chaiboonma. Always cautious and conservative. Always direct. He and Kannon would get along great, once they got beyond the nasty looks they were exchanging. “Couple of Alak’s men,” said Gina. “I’m guessing you know the situation.”
“Yes. And I see your father has decided do something about it.” He practically curled his lip at Kannon and Ryota.
Gina put her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t you if your best friend was kidnapped?”
“Sure. Then again, I wouldn’t have Alak as a friend in the first place. To be blunt, Gina, I’m not happy that you’ve brought the likes of these men to my doorstep.”
Kannon’s hands flexed, and Gina inserted herself between him and Dr. Chaiboonma. This was not at all like the natural diplomat she’d known as a teen. Apparently there were some things she hadn’t been told during her time away. Or some things neither Darae nor her father knew about.
“Have you heard of the temple at 70 Rai?”
The old hacker’s expression grew hard and sad. “I’ve heard rumors.”
“The rumors are officially false. It doesn’t exist. Not since these two finished with it last night.”
“Your point?”
“Last night they made thirteen children very happy. When’s the last time you’ve done that?”
Dr. Chaiboonma met Kannon’s gaze, then finally bowed. Kannon and Ryota immediately responded in kind. Gina proceeded with introductions, at the conclusion of which Dr. Chai said, “Let me clear off the boardroom table and we’ll have a talk about it, okay?”
The hacker excused himself, and Kannon came alongside her, a full arm’s length away and still the space between them was so charged she could almost hear the snap, crackle, pop. “Who are these people?”
He was apparently deaf to the sound of sexual frustration. Gina focused on playing tour guide. “The Bangkok Blondes. Mercenaries to some, terrorists to others. After this building project failed, Dad agreed to help convert it into a hideout for them. Ran power, water and cable up here, and installed a bunch of satellite relays on the roof. He also spread all those spooky rumors and ghost stories I told you about to keep the locals from snooping around.”
“They aren’t true, then?” Ryota said it as if she’d burst his bubble about Santa. Kannon sliced him a look, and Ryota mumbled, “The tree of rumor grows from the seed of truth.”
Gina had never heard that proverb before and was ready to compliment Ryota when Kannon responded, “Just watch what tree you pluck your fruit from.”
Ryota blushed and stared straight ahead. “Yes, sir.”
What was that all about? Gina tried to sort through that metaphorical exchange when Kannon carried on as if there’d been no interruption. “They work for your father?”
“What? Uh…no. They’re independent, but like all the Bangkok gangs, your boss takes a cut.”
“Then why have I never heard of them?”
“The Blondes keep a very low profile. They tap phones, hack police servers and launder money through online businesses for my father, and in exchange he provides them with untraceable headquarters. Pretty good arrangement, seeing as half these people have bounties on their heads.”
“From who?”
“Jihadist groups, mainly,” Dr. Chai said, returning. “Follow me, while I explain. Back in ‘08 when India contracted me to help fight their cyber-war with Pakistan, I had no trouble enlisting the best cyber-criminals out there to help me. Only about half the people here are Thai. The rest are Chinese, Russians, Indians, Romanians—even a couple of Canadians. Kind of the U.N. of cyber-crime in the ghost tower.”
Dr. Chaiboonma had arrived at a small room where the boardroom table was covered with World of Warcraft figurines.
“Whoa,” Gina said. “Now I know you guys are for real.”
Dr. Chai gestured to the empty seats. “Part of my recruitment policy. Ensures a common corporate culture. Please sit.”
Gina and Dr. Chaiboonma sat, while Ryota stood off to one side and Kannon parked himself behind her, though not so close as he had at 70 Rai. “I apologize if I was less then welcoming, Gina. I really am happy to see you again,” Dr. Chaiboonma began. “I’m guessing your father called you back to Bangkok because of his health problems?”
Someone else who knew about her father’s condition before she did. Understandable, but—Gina shook it off. “And because Wakai wants my god-sister. It’s a family matter now.”
“In more ways than one, I assume,” Dr. Chaiboonma replied. He looked over Gina’s head at Kannon. “Darae always intended for Gina to take over the family business when Vincenzo retired. Groomed her to be a criminal mastermind since she was twelve years old, which is how she wound up meeting people like me at a young age.”
She wished Dr. Chai would get to the point and not drag up her old history. Kannon already figured her for a Daddy’s girl. Her as mafia princess was icing on his cupcake. “Yeah, well, we all know that’s not how things turned out.”
Dr. Chaiboonma brought his gaze back to her. “Until now.”
Kannon’s voice came sailing over her head. “Do you have a problem with her helping my boss?”
Dr. Chai picked up a figurine of a green-skinned brute wielding an enlarged spear. “I consider the effort futile.”
“And why’s that? You don’t think he can be rescued?” There was something in Kannon’s tone that put Gina on full alert. The big bad wolf sounded hostile—and curious.
“Alak’s just another mob boss,” Dr. Chaiboonma said, setting down the figurine. “Only difference between him and his rivals are their nationalities. They all use the same methods. Commit the same crimes. Spill the same blood. And they all end up the same way.”
Gina gripped the armrest, making sure she was in Kannon’s way should he take exception. Instead, his reply was mild. “Sounds like your sympathies lie with Wakai.”
“Not at all,” Dr. Chaiboonma said, randomly picking up another figurine. This one was of a blue vixen in a barely-there purple bodysuit with a set of boobies straight from a pubescent fantasy. “He’s cut from the same cloth as well. The only criminals in this city that are any different are Vincenzo and myself.”
“And how do you figure that?” asked Kannon.
“Ninety-five percent of what Vincenzo does is legal,” Dr. Chaiboonma explained. He set the vixen down in front of him. Despite the totally unrealistic rack, Gina liked the way she was depicted, all bold and in mid-stride as if ready to do battle with whatever monster dared get in her way. “Really, he’s a businessman who uses criminal contacts to defend himself against gangs wanting to take over his brothels and massage parlors.”
“Nicely put,” Gina said, and he acknowledged her compliment with a little bow.
Kannon, as usual, was not impressed. “How about you?”
“Half my money comes from governments,” Dr. Chaiboonma said. “National intelligence services employ my team to harass and spy on one another. Admittedly, we’re involved in criminal activities, all non-violent. Tax evasion. Money laundering. Digital counterfeiting.”
Gina leaned over and picked up the vixen while Kannon continued his interrogation. “You consider yourself morally superior?”
“It’s not an issue of morality. It’s an issue of sustainability.”
Ah, yes, this argument. She spun in her chair to look at Kannon. “What Dr. Chaiboonma means is that most criminal organizations are unstable. Sooner or later they all wind up failing because they rely on fear and violence rather than cooperation and finesse. That’s why Dr. Chaiboonma encouraged me not to take the path Darae wanted me to.”
“If you had, you’d probably have wound up as one of Alak’s lieutenants,” added D
r. Chaiboonma. “Which is to say you’d likely be dead by now.”
“And none of us want that,” Kannon said. He said it so quietly, so damn neutrally Gina was half out of her chair, ready to—what? Kiss him or kick him?
She forced herself to relax and in a quiet, neutral voice, replied, “It’s all history or speculation. Right now, I’m trying to help my family, and that’s the only reason I’m back in Bangkok.”
Dr. Chaiboonma sighed. “And that is why I’ll help you, Gina. What would you like?”
Okay, good, they were finally able to get to business. “We’re looking for Wakai and we’ve got a lead, and I—we—were hoping to borrow your expertise.” With her phone, she brought up the website address the scumbucket had given her at 70 Rai and showed it to Dr. Chai. “This site is run by his sister, Victoria. Very private and very sick. Death and torture I’m guessing. Find the site, find the sister, find Wakai.”
Dr. Chaiboonma squinted at the screen.”Darknet, hmm? Sounds a bit like ‘Three Guys, One Hammer.’”
Gina winced. “I don’t think I want to know what you’re talking about.”
“An old Ukrainian snuff site. Have you visited this one?”
“Didn’t think I’d have the stomach for it.”
“Good. They probably monitor traffic pretty closely. Shouldn’t be too hard to trace.”
Leading them back into the maze of workstations, he brought them to a thin young woman with bleach blonde hair, her skintight black t-shirt depicting an upward arrow with the caption ‘I’m with Genius’. She looked up at them through cosmetic lenses that gave her slitted cat’s eyes.
“This is Kittyjack,” Dr. Chaiboonma said. “Recruited her out of Vancouver a few years back. She’ll help you get what you need.” He jotted notes on a pad, then slid it over to the hacker. “In the meantime, please excuse me. We’re about to release a DDoS attack on the National Command Authority and I really should oversee that.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what that means,” Gina smiled, more than a little relieved to see him go. He was a double-shot of caffeine in that he energized her but also made her edgy. “Good luck, anyway. And thanks again for your help.”
“Be careful, Gina,” he replied, shooting Kannon a grim look. “Very careful.”
“Soyou’retryingtotrackdownsomesnuffsite,eh?” asked Kittyjack, firing out the words as Dr. Chaiboonma walked away.
Gina blinked. Okay, Dr. Chai had that double-shot effect on his employees as well. “Yeah. The website she runs is—”
“GotitfromChaiboonmahangonasec,” the blonde replied even as her fingers flew over her keyboard, strings of incomprehensible numbers flashing across the screen as windows snapped open and shut so fast Gina was worried the girl was going to give herself a seizure. “Gotit’sIPsorunningareverseDNS. Gotit’sDNSsowegotaBangkoksiteonideanet. Confirmingwithtracerouteandwhois. Gotideanetthathackedsolet’sbackdoorandwehaveamatch. Runningitonterraserverand three, two, one....”
Was she even speaking a language? Gina stole a look at Kannon, whose eyebrows were raised halfway up his forehead.
A satellite map of Bangkok opened up, a thin red crosshairs identifying a location. “That’swhereit’srunningfrom.” Kittyjack scribbled down an address on the notepad, tore the top sheet off and handed it to Gina. “Notawebsitebutaserver. Samedifftoyouthough.”
Kannon was still looking at the map on the screen. “What is that place? And speak so I can understand you.”
“It’s Talad. Rot. Fai,” replied the hacker with exaggerated slowness. “The train market.”
“What?” Kannon said.
Kittyjack and Gina stared at him. “Seriously?” Gina said. “You live here and you’ve never heard of Talad Rot Fai? A few years back some antique dealers set up shop in an old railway yard. Word spread, and now the area’s the best place in Bangkok to buy anything retro. Clothes, shoes, toys, furniture—even cars.”
“Plus,” Kittyjack interjected, “I can pretty much guess who’s running the server you’re looking for. Hacker named Capslock. Used to work for us till Dr. Chaiboonma kicked his butt out of B² for playing too much Starcraft. Guy runs a small operation hosting Darknet sites for spammers, scammers, and pervs.”
“Okay. Anything else we should know?” Gina asked.
“Nope,” Kittyjack said, her eyes riveted to her screen, fingers a blur. As they turned away, she called out. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Take earplugs.”
One step into Talad Rot Fai and Kannon knew why he’d never come before. It would’ve driven him insane. The place was a maze of pretentious shops dealing in high-end antiques, intermixed with gaudy stalls, hawking everything from roller skates to ABBA records. Throughout the area stood abandoned train carriages, several of which had been retrofitted into tiny bars and restaurants, providing the throngs of vintage-wearing, retro-loving hipsters with hot food and cold beers while they shopped. Ryota kept eyeing the food vendors but there was no slowing Gina.
“Oh wow! Check this out!” She held up an ancient Dukes of Hazzard lunchbox. “You know how much this is worth?”
Kannon crossed his arms. “Apparently more than time.”
Gina carried on as if he hadn’t made a very good point. “This used to be Brian’s favorite show when he was a kid. I’m going to buy it for him.”
Kannon and Ryota exchanged weary glances as Gina began haggling with the stall keeper.
“An hour of walking around this garage sale and we’re still no closer to finding him,” Kannon grumbled. Although they were in the general area of the hacker, the anarchy of the market made it impossible to determine a precise location. It didn’t help that this was Gina’s sixth purchase, he and Ryota already toting bags with vintage dresses, her little spree courtesy of something she called tingles.
“They rush through me like an orgasm,” she’d tossed over her shoulder, and Kannon had to shove Ryota in the back to get him moving again.
“Can we please get down to business now?” Kannon said as Gina trotted over to them, lunchbox in hand.
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” she said, giving him the lunchbox, which he automatically handed off to a reluctant Ryota.
“Buying junk,” he replied. One day with her as boss and he’d had it. His only hope for peace was to get her back to the boat so he could get a break from all her…pinkness.
She stuck her face up to his. “I’ve also been talking to the stall owners about the guy we’re looking for. Come on.” She was off again, weaving her way through the crowd, one lucky shopper after another feeling the brush of her breasts or her behind.
She brought them to an old boxcar on the far edge of the market, its sliding door securely locked. Gina and Kannon kept watch as Ryota picked it, opening it only slightly slower than if he’d had the key—one lesson the boy had learned well. The inside of the train car was lined with rows of shelves, each filled with humming computers. At the back of the car was a small window, and hooked up in front of it was what looked like a large rifle scope on a tripod, its glowing red end aimed at a cluster of nearby apartment blocks. Ryota kneeled down behind the device and looked through it.
“So, what do we have here?” Gina wondered aloud, taking a picture of the setup with her phone. She forwarded it to Kittyjack, and not a minute later got a call back that she put on speaker.
“Infrared laser. Nifty. Letshimtransmitdatafrom—”
“Slower, please, Kitty.”
“I said he’s using an infrared laser to send and receive data from his network without leaving any kind of record,” said the hacker. “That way he never has to visit the train car. Never has to access its internet connection. Never has to leave any clues behind.”
“It’s pointed at a concrete wall,” Ryota detailed.
“Means he’s ricocheting the laser to another location. Makes him pretty much impossible to find.”
Kannon stepped close to the phone, which in turn brought him within the range of Gina’s warm scent. He held his breath and said �
�So this is a dead end?”
“Duh. No,” Kittyjack said, with barely controlled patience. “All you have to do is unplug the power. When Capslock notices it’s offline, there’s a good chance he’ll show up to see what the matter is. Problem is, that could take hours or months depending on how often he checks it. If he’s really paranoid he might even abandon his little business, but seeing all the work he’s put into it, I doubt he would.”
“Thanks, Kitty,” said Gina. “Give Dr. Chai my love.”
“Will do, Gin.” The hyper-hacker’s voice actually softened. Did Gina have that effect on everybody? Make women go soft and men hard? Kannon focused on the interior of the car. “Fuse box is over here.” He ran his fingers down the panel, killing the power. The computers instantly switched to backup batteries. “These shouldn’t last long.”
He looked at his watch, doing his own computing. “Seeing as this is our only lead, we’ll have to take shifts waiting for him to show up. Are you fit to stay here till morning, Ryota?”
His back-up checked his gun before returning it to his holster. “I’ll be fine. If he comes, I’ll call you immediately.”
Kannon was exiting when he saw that Gina was scrolling on her phone. He bit down hard on his back molars. “That work for you, Gina?”
She made a little noise in her throat he was willing to interpret as agreement.
“Then we should head back to the boat.”
Her thumb tapped the phone and she brought it to her ear. “Actually I’ve got a better idea.”
No. Not another idea.
“Hey there, Pensri. It’s Gina. Guess who’s in town?”
Kannon’s heart stopped. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. But given it was Gina, why not? He listened to Gina exchange niceties with her old friend, and then she chirped, “Listen, I’m here with a friend of mine and we need to lay low. Okay if we stay at your place tonight?”
Say ‘no’, say ‘no’. From Gina’s sudden brightening, Pensri was soft, too.
Once off the phone, she waggled it at him. “Old friend of mine. We’re crashing at her place.”
Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas) Page 8