Allure (Mercenaries Book 1)

by Tony Lavely

  “We had this discussion, too!” Beckie came erect and leaned forward until her face was close to her father’s. Her voice rose beyond restraint. “Sometimes it is black and white. When you see a man so fat and big that you can’t see the girl he’s covering with his body, his dick ripping her insides apart…” deliberately selecting language to convey the sense of horror she’d felt when she’d seen Ana, “blood running from her cunt when we got him off her, gasping ‘cause she couldn’t breathe under him.

  “Or the whip marks on Ana and Rosa. These don’t seem at all gray to me, Dad. Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m a girl. I can put myself in the wrong position in that picture—” She stopped and fell back into her chair, aghast at the unspoken implication she’d made for Jim. “I didn’t mean that—”

  “I know you didn’t. I agree with you. No matter the antecedents, none would excuse what went on in that place, to those girls. My warning is a plea to remember that few situations we face are so clear cut, so amenable to a quick, one-sided solution.”

  “So noted, Daddy. Or to you, I should say Domo arrigato, sensei!”

  “I heard that. What’s it mean?”

  “Arrigato is obligation, best translated in this case as thank you. Domo is many. Sensei is an honorific for teacher, one who guides or coaches. Japanese. So, thank you very much, Father!”

  “We’ve talked about everything except the danger to you, Beckie.”

  Beckie contemplated for a moment before answering her mother’s concern.

  “I know that it’s the way of things for children to bury their parents, not the other way ‘round. But if we believe in God, we believe that He calls us when He’s ready, not necessarily when we are. And if we don’t believe in God, then chance can modify the natural order of aging, cutting anyone’s life off anytime.

  “So, there’s certainty only in that we’ll all die. I’m not ready yet, and I am not going into this thinking ‘What a great way to die!’ I could be a housewife with kids, or a stockbroker, or teacher, or a professional student and I could die or be killed at anytime, same as anyone. The odds are maybe a little worse here, I guess, but I’m going to learn the techniques to even them back up.”

  The discussion was complete. As the report from the front said: “The battle is over; just mopping up.” They spent another half hour talking over details they all knew were inconsequential, but were useful in cementing the decision and its acceptance. A breeze came up, cool enough that they retired.

  In the large bedroom, Beckie started to undress, putting her shorts aside, unbuttoning the shirt before she wilted, finding herself sitting at the end of the bed. She had no idea how long she’d been there when Melissa came in. She saw the tears on Beckie’s cheeks and beckoned Mike in too.

  “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she sobbed into Melissa’s shoulder as Mike pulled over a chair to sit at her knees. “I mean, I got everything I asked for, more maybe, so I oughta be happy!”

  “Could be stress relief,” Mike said dryly, with a squeeze of her knee. “Not that you’ve had any stress at all, recently.”

  Beckie calmed over the space of a few minutes. She stood. “Lissa, help me get a shower please, then if you guys are ready, I’ll tell you a bedtime story.” She tried a grin to light up her face. Melissa’s look said she nearly succeeded, but not quite.

  In the bathroom, Melissa helped remove the gauze pads. After the shower, they agreed she’d not need them tomorrow. She chose a pair of loose sleep shorts and top for attire. Back in the bedroom, Mike sat in his pajamas. One look, Melissa pushed Beckie to her bed, took Mike by the hand and led him to the bathroom, blatantly leaving the door open, allowing Beckie to call “If you take too long, I’ll be asleep; I gotta get up early.”

  Perhaps out of deference for Mike’s ribs and Beckie’s weariness, the couple was back in the bedroom in less than five minutes, scrubbed and glowing. Beckie giggled as she thought of countless romance movies where the leads shared the single pair of PJs. Beckie was already in the center of the bed propped up with pillows; she patted her left side for Melissa, her right for Mike. Mike’s weight settled the mattress, rolled her slightly toward his leg. On the left, Melissa sat, knees together, facing her and grinning at Mike. Beckie dropped an arm across Melissa’s bare leg, with the other she took Mike’s hand. Yeah, I think Mike was right. Stress relief. She reveled as she enjoyed her best friends against her. Thank God for these guys. And for everything today. Especially Mr. Jamse. She looked up, first at Mike, then at Melissa. For that second, they were gazing at each other. Ok, not sure I can keep them apart! Better make this quick.

  Their attention quickly focused on her as she told them everything. Or, more accurately, everything they needed to know which wouldn’t also hurt them. When she finished, Melissa covered her hand with hers. “Can we come along, too?” she asked.

  “Some of the time, if you’re not busy with something else.” She knew that if she lived here, they’d drift apart. She experienced an involuntary stab of pain as she realized that they wouldn’t be able to ride pairs again. Even if they did, here there was no place to do it. “Maybe I’d have enough pay that I can hire you on, Lissa,” she half teased.

  Beckie felt Melissa’s hand slide along her chest. “Need a masseuse?” Beckie shook slightly; the motion did serve to slow the motion. Grinning, she returned Melissa’s hand. “No, that might not be good. Best friend, maybe.”

  “Nothin’ but room and board for that,” Melissa replied.

  “Yeah. We’ll see. Now, will you two take those pajamas to bed in one piece or two? Whichever, I need to get some sleep.”

  Melissa made a pouty face as she stood and came around the bed to help Mike. They left the room together, bare skin contrasting nicely with the bright orange of the shared sleep garment. Beckie smiled and rolled over.

  A couple of minutes later, the door opened. Beckie looked up to see Melissa and her father standing in the doorway. Melissa had just slid through the door when Dad said, “Can I come in a minute?” Melissa turned to leave again, but he turned her back. “No, no, you can stay. I guess you’ve heard most everything, too.”

  Beckie sat up, patted the bed next to her. “Sit here unless you’d rather pull up a chair.” He sat next to her on the bed, held her hand.

  “I’m worried about you—that’s probably no surprise—but this isn’t a plea for you to change your mind.” Beckie relaxed very slightly, recalling her promise yesterday. Even with her low tolerance for authority—she had a well deserved reputation at school and church for independent thinking though not as a trouble maker—she would still have had difficulty refusing a direct request from either parent. Jim continued, “I’d like to be sure you think it through. I guess you’ll have a lot of time on the plane, both ways. That’s all I ask.”

  She started to tear up, then sat up straight and pulled herself around so she could hug him close, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be fine, Daddy, and I’ll use the time to make sure this is the right thing for me. For sure!”

  “Thanks, Beckie.”

  “Wow!” was all Melissa said after the door closed.

  Part III: Closure

  CHAPTER ONE

  Welcome to Phuket

  BECKIE FELT A PULL AT her foot; she forced an eye open to see Sue tugging gently.

  “Sorry, but Jean-Luc plans to leave at ten to make connections in New York. Don’t want to miss the flight to Bangkok,” she said with a laugh. “It’ll take us a couple hours to go over all the things before we put them in the luggage. I’ve got everything ready for you. Smart money says you’re set to go with us as a ‘prentice. True?”

  Pulling her clothes on, trying to be quiet so Melissa could sleep, Beckie just nodded, indicating the form under the covers. Sue nodded and waited outside.

  She took Beckie to the hangar in the morning light; together they went over Beckie’s new gear, trying on different pieces of the equipment.

  Once the “work” gear was restowed, Beckie tu
rned to a set of expensive looking matched luggage. “What’s this?”

  Sue grinned. “Open ‘em. I guessed at your sizes; if they’re too far off, we can order new.”

  Beckie opened the largest one to find it filled with clothes the likes of which she’d seen only in Vogue or W. Suits, gowns, party and day wear dresses, swimsuits and a double handful of undergarments of innumerable descriptions. In the small lavatory, she tried on samples of all except the gowns, worried about brushing against something and damaging one.

  “These are beautiful,” Beckie exclaimed again and again. “They’ll all fit fine. You have a good eye.”

  “A good eye for the tags in your clothes. At least, I think they were yours.”

  “Wouldn’t matter if you got Lissa’s. From the neck down, we’re not different as much as an inch. Oh, but she does have a tiny mole!” Beckie enjoyed the shared laugh, happy that it came easily to them both. “We’ll swap off when I get back; a couple of these will go really well with her coloring. Thanks a lot!”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll come out of your share, except the ones for the job, which will be most of the gowns and swimsuits, unless I miss my guess. At least, Ian told me I needed a designer bandage for my arm…” She made a little moué. “… since my injury’s neither attractive nor unusual enough to leave it uncovered.” With a grin, she helped Beckie repack the bags.

  Sue became serious while they loaded Beckie’s gear in the jet for the trip to New York. “Ian believes this trip will take about a week. I think ten days, but I don’t know what we’re going to do, either. I’m jus’ thinking what’s involved in setting up in a new venue.

  “When we get back, Lena, Derek and I will work on your training program for the rest of the summer. Melissa and Mike are welcome, but they’ll be your guests; they won’t be involved in the exercises at all.”

  Beckie pursed her lips. “I’ll ask them if they’d like to stay here; they’d miss a lot, if they do.”

  “As will you,” Sue guessed.

  “I figured out last night how much I’ll miss riding with Lissa, yeah.” She gave Sue a bright smile. “But I’m getting something back, too.”

  They took the boat back to discover Shalin beginning breakfast for the crew. Beckie ran to the cottage to rouse the sleepers. Small talk accompanied the croissants, scrambled eggs and grilled fresh fish—Shalin had been out as early as Beckie and Sue—distributed along the table, with mango juice and coffee.

  Thanks to Boynton’s efforts in making arrangements, and to Jean-Luc’s in getting them to Kennedy in good order to deal with immigration and security, they boarded the big jet with time to spare. Waiting, Derek reflected on the foibles of government; Beckie laughed with him and Sue over Jean-Luc’s confusion. He’d phoned Derek that TSA had declined to allow the team’s equipment on as baggage; however, he had been able to have it shipped with them as freight. “No understanding bureaucracy,” they agreed.

  The long flight from Paris, the intermediate stopover between New York and Bangkok, gave Beckie plenty of hours to review her personal options. Jamse likewise had ample time to share his plan for the next several days.

  “I have been in touch with Kiel Lot, in the Thai government. He has been monitoring Werner for some time. He and I have some previous history, and he is willing to assist us under conditions which, under the circumstances, seem eminently reasonable.”

  Kiel Lot would be prepared to bend rules slightly to free his country of Werner, Jamse told them. Lot lamented that Werner was careful to avoid attention and was, it appeared, as successful at greasing palms in the Phuket area as he had been in Arizona.

  Lot suspected that the village the Boss had spoken of was in fact a private compound, within which the local authorities could not or would not venture, where new “recruits” could be kept, trained, and used.

  “He has provided aerial photographs of the area,” Jamse said. “The village appears to be more of a large central building with many smaller outbuildings. The rain forest makes it difficult to see much detail, even of the main building. If we go in there, it will be hot, wet, messy work.”

  Derek leaned over the large photo. “Looks to be a ‘elicopter, there.”

  “He uses it to reach the airport at Georgetown or Kuala Lumpur rather than traveling through Bangkok or Singapore.”

  Boynton had managed to book the entire first class cabin. No matter they were alone, Beckie and the others crowded around Jamse. Even with the unrelenting noise of the air-borne jet, they talked in voices barely loud enough for the team.

  “We wish to have Rebecca’s presence known in Phuket, hoping that Werner will wish to make her acquaintance, even now.”

  “After hearing about Arizona, he must know this is a trap,” Sue said.

  Jamse nodded his agreement. “He should, indeed. We shall plan as if he does.”

  “So, how do we advertise?” Beckie asked.

  Sue smiled. “Remember I said the swimsuits would be for work? C’mon, back to the lav.”

  Beckie followed Sue back into the cabin, wearing a bikini she had admired that morning. It set off Beckie’s features, complementing her dark hair and light coloring.

  “Yes, perfect,” Jamse said.

  Derek photoed Beckie with golden screens as backdrop, filling a small memory stick with images.

  “We will use the photographs as bait,” Jamse explained, “Lot has offered to place a story in the local media: a girl, described by the photograph, has gone missing, updated to say that she, you Rebecca, have been recovered near the ruins, and have been reunited with your doting father and sister.” His gesture included Willie and Sue.

  “Ian—”

  “You did bring your formal wear?” Jamse asked. Beckie loved the growly note of danger in both the men’s voices.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You were not present in Rome; thus are the logical choice to be seen with Rebecca. Mr. Lot advises that there is a club here, the White Egret, where a doting father might take his two lovely daughters for a dinner and a show, and perhaps even the obligatory dance with each of them.

  “The recovery story will play on local television news and in the newspapers; both society and gossip in the foreign community will remark your appearances at the night club. One of these may attract Werner’s attention.”

  “I guess the real question is will it do any good?” Derek asked. “I mean, what’re the odds we won’t ‘ave to go into the compound anyway, at the end of the day?”

  “Well,” Willie said, “the whole point of exposing Beckie here is to try and get Werner off-balance, keep his attention off us. I never thought we’d be able to meet Ian’s requirements without a trip to the compound.”

  “That is correct. Confronting Werner in the compound will enable Lot to ignore our actions, as long as no Thai citizens are injured and we are quiet.” Jamse turned to face Beckie. “We are as sure as can be that while Susan and Willie are close by, you will be safe.”

  The flight attendants interrupted to serve yet another meal, this one the equal of those before: exquisite, with portion sizes that reflected their inability to walk more than a few feet in exercise. Because they constituted the entire first class complement, the attendants, unaccustomed to being superfluous, pampered them, reducing conversation to innocuous topics, like how frequently hurricanes caused damage back at the Nest. Beckie perceived that she already thought of herself as one of them; that place beside the blue, blue water was her home.

  Dessert was finally cleared away; the attendants returned to their lair, and Sue brought up the schedule.

  “When do we go in, Ian?”

  “Of course. Rebecca, when we infiltrate Werner’s compound, you will remain in the hotel—No!” forestalling Beckie’s protest. “Bear with me as I explain why this must be the case, and what will occur as a result.” He waited until she turned in her seat to face them and nodded.

  “Thank you. You were concerned last night that we might have jeopardized
the mission by using it to test you. While your lack of experience in this type of mission is certainly a major consideration, at the same time we plan to use you as a judas goat.”

  “Huh? I don’t understand. And if I’m not gonna go in, why’d we bring all that gear for me?”

  “Ah. To answer your second question: the equipment is proof against unforeseen circumstances, which in our experience occur with monotonous, yet disturbing, regularity.”

  He sighed before giving Beckie a small grin. “A judas goat is the one that leads the flock to the slaughter, although we do not expect you to lead as much as attract.”

  “That sounds like bait, again.” The cynical twist in her voice matched the one on her lip.

  “You will forgive me perhaps for trying to put a different face on the same tired ruse?” Now his face had such an expression of gloom and worry that not only Beckie, but Sue and Derek as well, had to laugh.

  “Yes, Mr. Jamse,” Beckie managed to get out as she caught her breath.

  “Thank you again.

  “The first and second nights, you, Susan and Willie will appear at the White Egret. The third night, you will make a quiet evening of it. Derek, in his best squiring ladies about town garb, will take Susan on a tour of Phuket’s nightlife.

  “Willie will likewise be observed to depart the hotel for pursuits of his own, trusting the security of his youngest daughter to the hotel. However, he will return to the suite adjacent to yours, Rebecca, on the opposite side from his original.

  “If Werner has become aware of your presence in Phuket, there are two probable outcomes: The first, which we wish, is that Werner and his people divide their attention, wondering what we are planning. The second, less desirable from our point of view, is that, on seeing you apparently alone, Werner dispatches people to collect you. Willie awaits that possibility.” He mused a moment. “This would have the salutary effect of reducing their complement at the compound.

  “Of course, they may view our ploy as a trap and increase their patrols, or possibly pay us no interest whatever.