Devil's Due: A Thomas Caine Thriller (The Thomas Caine Series Book 0)

by Andrew Warren

  Alexi slammed his fist down on the table. "I kill you for these words you speak. Enough talk!"

  Kang rested a hand on Alexi's arm. The Russian seemed to calm down, but his lazy eye twitched with rage. Caine knew he had struck a nerve.

  Kang placed more food in his mouth and chewed. He drank more water.

  "You come into my home," he said. "You steal my property. Kill my men. All for what? I want to understand why you do this. I want to take a measure of you as a man."

  "Considering you kidnap girls and blow up innocent people, I don't really give a damn what you think of me," Caine replied.

  Kang nodded, his black eyes open wide. "You don't want to say, but I think you came for these girls. They are important to you ... or perhaps one of them is? I think I understand now."

  "You don't know anything about me," Caine said.

  Kang laughed. "Oh, you are wrong, Mr. Caine. You and I are not so different. When I looked in your face, I ask myself, why is a man like this, a white man, a man supposedly without honor, here in this jungle? Why is he risking his life for these girls? Alexi calls you a traitor, but when I look in your face, I see something else."

  "Yeah? What do you see?"

  "I see betrayal."

  Caine said nothing.

  Kang nodded. "My eyes see the truth. I know all about betrayal. Once you are wounded by true, deep betrayal, you are never the same. Am I right?"

  "Why are we wasting time with this asshole?" Alexi asked, his voice snarling with anger. "Our shipment leaves tomorrow. The girls are missing. We have to find them before--"

  "Please do not interrupt me," Kang said, pivoting his head to stare at Alexi. "These are city girls you are talking about. Bar girls. How far do you think they could possibly go in this jungle? My men will find them, and all will be as it was. In the meantime, I wish to enjoy my conversation with Mr. Caine."

  Alexi stood up. "Forgive me," he muttered. "I seem to have lost my appetite. I go outside and smoke." He stormed out of the room, tossing aside the red curtains as he exited the shack.

  Caine was alone with Kang. Alone with the devil, Pisac. Maybe this is my chance...

  Kang shook his head, and looked back at Caine. "Much anger in that one. Now, as I was saying... Do you think you are the only one who has been betrayed? You were what? A solider? An assassin? I was killing for my people by the time I was sixteen years old."

  Kang pushed his plate of food away. He set a small metal dish on a rack above a candle. Reaching into the folds of his clothes, he removed a red tablet and set it down on the plate. Caine watched as the heat from the candle began to melt the tablet. Droplets of red liquid began to sizzle and burn on the plate.

  Yaba. Caine was familiar with the drug. Its effects included sudden bursts of energy, euphoria, and feelings of invincibility.

  "I fought with the Burmese Communist Party, when the military junta seized control of the government. It was still called Burma then," Kang continued, watching the pill disintegrate. "I say fought, but that's not entirely true. We fought some, yes, but for the most part our task was murder. I was inserted behind enemy lines. My men and I targeted officers, political figures. Schools and hospitals. Our job was to spread fear. You would call me a terrorist, Mr. Caine, but the Communist Party of Burma called me a revolutionary. They financed our war with opium money and Chinese weapons."

  Kang shook his head. "Communism, Chinese nationalists, civil wars ... it all seems like some strange dream now. None of it makes any sense to me. I don't suppose it ever did. All I knew was that I was ordered to kill. So I did. I was good at it."

  "I don't need the history lesson," Caine said. "If you're going to kill me, just get on with it."

  "I most likely will. After I have tortured you."

  Caine's muscles tensed, but he maintained an aura of calm. "I have no information for you."

  "Oh, I'm sure we can think of some questions. Perhaps you sent these girls somewhere into the jungle? You have a vehicle hidden across the river? A rendezvous point?"

  Caine said nothing.

  Kang shrugged. "We shall see. Either way, there will be pain. Pain brings clarity. I feel you do not yet understand the true nature of where you are. Of who you are."

  "And you think you do?"

  Kang nodded. "Yes. As I said, I know betrayal well. In 1989, the Communist Party of Burma reformed into the United Wa State. A ceasefire was declared with the Myanmar government."

  Kang leaned over the small plate and inhaled the vapor of the burning pill deep into his lungs. He looked up, and his eyes glowed with inner fire and intensity.

  "Both sides had grown weary of bloodshed. Everyone wanted peace. Concessions were made. There were secret conditions to the ceasefire, backroom deals we knew nothing about. One of these conditions was that my men and I be turned over to the military, to face justice. I'm sure you can imagine what that meant, Mr. Caine."

  "Torture," Caine said.

  "Yes. Years of pain in a dark, diseased military prison. The United Wa State Army gave the Myanmar Armed Forces the location of our camp. It was a price they were willing to pay for peace. We were betrayed. Convicted as war criminals with no trial to speak of. Most of us were killed. After years of captivity, I was able to escape. But not without a cost."

  Kang lifted his left arm from under the table. His hand was chopped off at the wrist. A metal cap sealed off the wound. A claw-like hand was screwed into the end of the arm.

  "Must make using chopsticks tricky," Caine said.

  "I cut it off myself, Mr. Caine. It was the only way to free my arm from the chains that held me. I spilled much blood that day. I fought and killed and clawed my way to freedom. And--much like you, I imagine--I made my way here, hoping to disappear. Other refugees from my people had crossed the border into Thailand, and formed the Red Wa. They resumed their drug trade with China. I joined with them. I began killing again. It was only natural. And soon, I worked my way up to become leader of this cell.

  "Now I am free. I understand the true nature of this world, and my place in it. When you have suffered betrayal, when you have screamed in pain, knowing it will never end ... when you have lost all hope, then it becomes clear."

  "What becomes clear?"

  Kang smiled. "That we are in hell, Mr. Caine. You, me, all of us ... we are lost, trapped here in hell until we reach the next life. And once you realize that, it takes only a short time to reach the obvious conclusion."

  "Enlighten me," Caine said.

  Kang sucked in more vapor. He coughed, and it took Caine a second to realize that, beneath his gasping for air, he was laughing. "In hell, there are only two kinds of souls--the devils, and the damned."

  The older man used his right hand to waft the smoke up to his mouth and nostrils, his eyes closed in blissful peace. He inhaled again.

  Now! The voice screamed in Caine's mind. He lurched forward over the table, the fingers of his bound hands stretched wide, grasping for Kang's throat.

  Without opening his eyes, Kang shifted sideways. Caine had never seen anyone move so fast. He slammed down on the table, sending Kang's food and the platter of drugs cascading to the ground. Kang raised his right arm into the air. Caine tried to roll off the table to avoid the blow, but again the man was too fast for him.

  The arm struck like lightning. Caine saw the flash of steel in the dim light. The knife struck the table like a crack of thunder. The blade pierced the collar of Caine's shirt, pinning him to the table like an insect in a museum display.

  Kang looked down on him, and laughed. His pupils seemed to swallow the whites of his eyes. Caine heard a pair of footsteps enter the room behind him.

  He shifted his eyes and saw the two guards from earlier had come, as if somehow summoned by Kang. The older man stopped laughing and gestured to the curtain.

  "Show him the iron road."

  The men grabbed him under the arms and lifted him to his feet, tearing his shirt free of the knife.

  "You will see," Ka
ng said, his voice low and calm. "It only takes a short time ... not much time at all, to decide. Devil or damned, Mr. Caine. Devil or damned."

  The men dragged him out of the room.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Caine bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood. The pain ... it had started as a slight irritation, but had grown in intensity. He knew it would keep increasing, building until he would no longer be able to stop himself. He would scream. But for now, he refused to give his tormentors the satisfaction.

  He heart raced. Beads of sweat dripped from his body, and his tattered clothes were already soaked. His pants were sliced at the knees, exposing his legs. His hands and feet were tied to a wooden table that stood under a thatched roof. Above him, the two guards grinned as they watched his body writhe in pain. In his head, he had named them Eagle and Soda Can, after the designs on their shirts.

  "The iron rod" consisted of a long, heavy metal rod that was studded with tiny spikes. The rod was rolled up and down the flesh of a man's shins. The weight of the rod itself provided all the pressure needed; the men merely rolled the heavy length of iron up and down. The motion was almost gentle.

  Soon, the spikes began to prick the skin. Dots of blood appeared; with each turn of the rod, the blood increased. The wounds grew deeper. Soon, Caine's legs were covered with blood. He knew the rod would eventually strip the flesh from his shins, until nothing was left but bone and blood.

  "Where you send the girls?" Eagle asked. "Tell us, and we stop." They asked their questions in flat, monotone voices. They didn't care about the answers. They didn't want to stop. Caine glared at them, then spit on the ground.

  He had been tortured before. Those long, dark days of pain and misery had left a mark on his soul. Kang was right. After that betrayal, after that pain, Caine knew he had never been the same. The experience had scarred him. And now, as the pain built in intensity, he felt his mind regressing, as if he were being transported back in time.

  It was as if this pain was all pain; there was no difference. One second he was here, trapped in this jungle hell, the iron rod slowly tearing through the flesh of his legs. The next, he was hanging in a dark stone room, his body twitching and swaying as savage jolts of electricity ripped through his muscles. The past, the present ... all was a blur, a miasma of despair and hopelessness, linked only by pain and terror.

  Devils. His soul was tormented by devils.

  His heartbeat was all he could hear. It drowned out the noise of the jungle, the laughing of the men. It flooded his ears with its rapid pounding. Faster and faster it beat, until he was certain it would explode from his chest.

  His mind screamed at him, cutting through the roar of blood pumping through his veins. Get a grip! Keep control. Control is all you have! If you scream, they win.

  The rod tore at his flesh.

  Caine did not scream.

  Suddenly, another sound cut through the red cloud of pain and fear that surrounded his senses. A soft crack, a rapid puff of air. It was a sound he had heard before, he realized. At the river, before he lost consciousness.

  It was the sound of an air rifle.

  The man he knew as Soda Can jerked an arm up to his neck. "What the hell?" he uttered.

  Eagle stopped rolling the iron rod. "What's wrong?"

  Soda Can slumped to the ground. Eagle immediately backed up and raised his AK-47. He scanned the darkness. "Who there? Come out or I shoot!"

  There was another soft crack. Eagle staggered back. He pulled the trigger of his assault rifle, but nothing happened.

  Click, click.

  Eagle fumbled with the weapon, and Caine realized he must have left the safety on. As the drug ran through his nervous system, the man struggled to throw the safety lever to the fire position.

  He failed. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

  Caine turned his head and saw a figure emerge from the darkness.

  It was Naiyana.

  Her skin was streaked with dirt and mud, and her hair was tangled with leaves and bits of vine. A light sheen of sweat made her coffee-colored skin glisten in the flickering torchlight.

  Alexi's tranquilizer rifle hung by her side.

  She rushed over to him.

  "Naiyana, what are you doing here?" Caine hissed. "I told you to go!"

  "I did go. The other girls, they ran. I start to run, too, but I feel ashamed. You came for me. You saved me. Now I save you."

  She patted down the unconscious body of Soda Can and removed a large survival knife from a sheath at his waist. The knife was sharp, and it took only a few strokes to slice through the bonds that held Caine's wrists.

  Caine sat up and took the knife from her. Scanning the jungle for movement, he severed the ropes that held his feet. He examined his injuries. His legs were bloody, but despite the pain, the wounds were not severe.

  "I appreciate it, Naiyana, I do, but it's dangerous here. You could have been caught again."

  The girl shook her head. "The camp looks deserted. I find this rifle in jeep outside the shack where the Russian sleeps, but he not there."

  "Kang sent most of his men into the jungle, looking for you," Caine whispered.

  Naiyana smiled. "Yes, I hear them. They make noise like wild pigs, stomping around. My family come from mountains like this. When I was little girl, my father teach me how to hunt. How to be quiet, so animals don't hear me."

  "And how to shoot, apparently," Caine said. "Quick, help me hide the bodies."

  They dragged the two men into the underbrush of the jungle. Caine winced from the pain in his legs, but he forced himself to ignore it.

  He felt the weight of the knife in his hand. The men were laid out in front of him, unconscious. It would be a simple matter to slice their throats. He didn't know when they might wake up; it was a logical precaution. His blood still boiled with rage. The pain and fear of the torture they had subjected him to still clouded his mind.

  He looked up and saw Naiyana staring at him, a curious expression on his face.

  "What are you doing?" she asked. Her brown eyes looked soft and concerned. Caine felt his rage subside.

  "Nothing." He grabbed one of the men's AK-47s, and slung it around his shoulder. "Let's go."

  They made their way through the dark jungle back towards the river. True to her word, Naiyana moved silently though the dense foliage. Kang underestimated her, Caine thought. She could have easily avoided his patrols and fled, but instead she had come back for him. She had risked her life to save him. He had seen trained soldiers panic and abandon their comrades under similar circumstances.

  Suddenly, Caine detected a familiar smell. He held up his hand and stopped moving. Naiyana froze.

  "What is it?" she whispered.

  "Wait here," Caine whispered back. He crept forward into the darkness, following the scent. It was smoke, from a cigarette.

  With soft, slow steps, Caine tracked the scent. Using the barrel of the AK-47, he brushed aside a branch of thick green leaves. Up ahead, in a small clearing, he saw the dark form of Alexi Rudov, pacing back and forth in the moonlight. A lit cigarette hung from his lips.

  Bad habit, Caine thought. One that could kill you....

  Caine stepped into the clearing. "Don't move, Alexi."

  The Russian spun around to face him. "Who is there?"

  Caine took another step forward, allowing a shaft of moonlight to illuminate his face.

  Alexi shook his head. "Caine. I told him to kill you." Alexi walked towards Caine, his hands held up in a position of surrender. Caine knew the maneuver well. The Russian was trying to close the distance between them, to improve his odds.

  "Don't come any closer, Alexi. Your next step will be your last."

  Alexi froze in place.

  "Where is Kang?" Caine asked.

  The Russian exhaled a puff of smoke. "I have no idea. He wanders the jungle at night; nobody knows where he goes. The man is insane, yes?"

  "You should choose better business partners then."
<
br />   "Da. This deal of ours ... it was a mistake to get involved with this man. The bombings, the dead cop, you ... trust me, if I could do it over again, I would tell him to fuck off."

  "Dead cop?" Caine asked. "You mean Satra? What about him?"

  Alexi's eyes narrowed. His lips curled up in a smile. "He is here. His body is here, in the camp. Kang has another bomb as well. I can show you. We make deal, yes?"

  Caine thought for a moment. He knew he should kill this man and get Naiyana out of the camp as soon as possible. But Satra ... if he had only listened to Satra and helped him, maybe none of this would have happened. And he remembered the photographs Satra had shown him, the bodies in the market. If Kang was planning on setting off another bomb, on killing more innocents as a show of force ... he knew Satra would have done anything to stop it.

  Caine made his decision. "Show me this bomb, and I'll consider it."

  "Da, good. It is back in camp. This way."

  "One more thing," Caine said, not moving from his position. "If you betray me, if you make a single move I don't like, I won't hesitate to kill you. No matter what happens to me, you die first. Understand?"

  Alexi examined Caine with his lazy blue eyes. He sighed and nodded. "I understand. I have read your file. I know who you are, I know the things you have done. I have no wish to test you."

  Caine smiled. "Good." He waived to Naiyana. The girl moved from her place of concealment and entered the clearing. She stared at Alexi with disgust. "You! This pig is the one who took me!”

  "I know," Caine said, "but there's more at stake here than just us. We have to follow this man for just a little while longer. There's something we have to do in camp. Then we can leave."

  Naiyana eyed the Russian, then nodded. "I trust you. Whatever you say."

  Caine gestured with the rifle. "All right, Alexi ... show us this bomb."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Alexi Rudov led Caine and Naiyana through the jungle, back towards the camp. As Naiyana had observed, the grounds seemed to be deserted. The campfire had burned out and was now just a smoldering pile of ash and glowing embers. Caine kept Alexi a safe distance ahead of them. He saw no signs of movement in the camp.