by Tony Lavely
“As much as it pains me, I believe Elena provided you a poniard similar to her own as a ‘going away’ gift. I hope you will have no cause to use it.”
“It’s in the package,” Sue told her, referring to the air freight portion of their gear. “We thought it would be better than having you try to talk your way through screening.” Her smirk was small but obvious.
Beckie sat back, wondering if she’d ever get away from being type cast as a sort of shapely, chestnut-haired worm. There was no animosity in the thought; it was what she’d asked for, after all: to help in a way unique to her. Sure hope I’ll be able to help in more and different ways, later on. Especially different!
Perhaps sensing some of Beckie’s angst, Sue curled up in the seat next to the girl and put her hand on Beckie’s arm. “Don’t worry, you won’t always be Andromeda, staked out for the Kraken.”
After a moment’s thought, Beckie grinned at her. “Certainly a different picture than I had; maybe better looking until the Kraken actually attacks! Thanks.” She looked around at the men, spreading out across the cabin. “Isn’t just the three of you too few?”
“Kevin would have helped, but Kevin would always help. For the mission: get in, get Werner, get the bank codes, kill Werner, get out, we should be okay. Derek and I together are nearly as good as Kevin.”
“Wouldn’t it make sense for Willie to go along? Even if,” she said, a little bitterly, “I’m useless— No,” as Sue made to speak, “I accept that I’m not yet any good in that kind of operation. Even Mike’s had some experience; I’ve only been a prize, like, if not bait, waiting to be taken away. I’d be no use killing Werner; I don’t even remember what a garrote is. I’d fall on my face in the dark in the jungle before we even got there. So I’m okay with being locked into my bedroom staked out on the bed. But maybe Willie should go with you.”
“He wouldn’t hear of leaving you alone while Werner’s within a thousand klicks. And Derek’s here partly ‘cause Willie wouldn’t hear of Ian taking care of me in the compound by himself.”
“He trusts you so little?” Beckie cast a quick surprised glance at Willie, head resting against the cabin wall between two windows. That doesn’t go with my impressions of him.
“God, no!” Sue laughed. “Just the opposite, I think. He loves us all, in his quiet way. You know, the strong silent type. If he thought either of us was wrong, or not capable, or maladroit, any of that, or that we, including you in this too, girl, if he thought that we needed help to achieve the goal, either we or he wouldn’t be here. You can guess who Ian would believe.”
Sue looked at Willie herself, the affection she felt lighting up her face. “Look at him,” she whispered. “Always the big old bear. Helping out, making sure everything’s right, taking hard jobs on himself and then helping all the rest of us who’ve been too busy to get ours done. I’ve never thought about it before, but…” a look of pleased surprise on her face, “I think he loves us.”
She gave a little shiver. “So it’s certainly not that he thinks we’re gurls and so useless, or whatever I sounded like. In my case, he was the one to remind us that the way Ian and I work, we’d cover left and right. We need Derek, or someone, to cover our butts, and Derek is the best we have after Kevin.” Seeing Beckie’s confusion, “Don’t worry, you’ll understand all that better, later.”
“And as for you, he watched you the other day, you know. He was very impressed, enough to say so. He didn’t know what we had done with you until Derek explained to Freddie about sending you in to look at Erica’s kill. But he does know your history; you’re not ready for hand-to-hand combat and all that entails.” They both grinned as Beckie agreed forcefully. “He asked to defend you here, if needed, and he’s the best we have at that.” Again, a quick look. “Don’t underestimate his… anyone’s really, but especially Willie’s ability to discern reality when he makes his assessments of capabilities and requirements.”
“Okay. What happens if you get in trouble?”
“Well, first, if you get in trouble, in other words, they do come to get you. That’s Willie’s call unless you and he can make it together. We think there’s no chance they’d hurt you—right away, anyhow. If they come, it’ll be to take you back to the compound. Willie’s at some risk, but he thinks with the armor, he’ll be alright. It’ll be his decision to fight or let them take you and follow.
“You get to make the decision whether or not to use Elena’s present. You’ll likely get slugged if you do, even if you significantly hurt one of them, so give that some thought.” A contemplative pause. “They probably won’t expect the blushing young virgin to have teeth, so it might be better to hold off and surprise them.”
“Enough about me, for Heavens’ sake. What about you guys?”
“Assuming you, spread out on the bed all dewy-eyed, are of no interest—”
“Oh, stop it!” Beckie was laughing at the picture, for all that it was too close to her own.
“Okay, okay. If we get into trouble, we’ll push the button, and you and Willie will come to back us up.” Beckie noticed there was no suggestion of a method to traverse the fifty kilometers between them. “More than that, can’t say till it happens, since circumstances will determine what we do. And we can’t know what’s gonna go down.” Beckie’s worry must have shown. “Don’t forget, Kiel Lot will be watching, too, making sure that Werner doesn’t sneak out of the country before we get to him.”
Beckie pushed those thoughts aside and relaxed for the remainder of the flight, luxuriating in the absence of her fear of flight. Even when the plane jounced through rough air, she gritted her teeth, a bit, and held tighter, a bit, and—comparing this flight with Jean-Luc’s dashes through the desert—laughed aloud at the feeling of relief she felt.
The approach to Bangkok allowed Beckie her first opportunity to see rain forest in other than film or video, but it took stepping outside during the transfer to the Bangkok Airways flight to Phuket to bring home the tropics. Even Hawai’i hadn’t had the heat and humidity of Thailand in midsummer. She felt like she was wilting visibly just standing, while the others—and the locals, of course—didn’t seem to mind at all. Jamse and all were moving as if it was spring at home. Following their example, she hitched her pack up on her shoulder, straightened up and marched along after. She glanced back; Willie was watching with a big grin as she made her way to the intercity flight.
On their exit from Phuket’s terminal, Beckie, Sue and Willie were bundled into a nondescript taxi. Even Beckie could see it had awaited their arrival. The car was hot—the air conditioning proclaimed on the door consisted of windows stuck down—and far from the cleanest Beckie’d seen. She and Sue had donned light day dresses which Jamse had proclaimed perfectly suited for clambering about ruins, and indeed, the hems dropped low enough that some climbing would be possible without offending any but the most devout Muslim.
The driver had unleashed a torrent of what Beckie assumed was Thai as they entered; he needed no encouragement from them to continue it for the half hour it took him to reach their destination. Instead of the hotel, he drove them to a well marked tumble of stones, ruins of an earthquake-demolished temple that the tourist board had sculpted into a money-making site. It looked as if it covered the same area as Beckie’s high school football field. Surrounded at the far end by the rain forest, it looked as if a huge saw had been used to trim the existing forest away from the stones.
The driver continued around to the jungle end of the site. He brought the complaining machine to a halt next to a more up-to-date vehicle, out of view of other visitors. Beckie didn’t recognize the make, only that it was a silver sport utility type truck. They worked their way free of the taxi’s sticky seats and greeted the man and woman who had stepped out of the other vehicle.
Unlike the taxi driver coercing his reluctant machine away, the newcomers were willing to speak English, introducing themselves as the ‘authorities’ charged with finding Beckie in the forest behind them. T
o make their stories more believable, the man led Beckie well into the jungle, making sure she fell. Frequently. The dress was ruined, but it would be clear to anyone who saw her that she had been rescued from lions and tigers and maybe even dragons. She took some comfort looking at the man; he’d lost his carefully groomed look as well.
Standing again beside the SUV, Beckie was completely exhausted, feeling like she was wearing a wet rag instead of a light dress, feeling like she was a wet rag, muddy, scraped, with a few spots where an insect had briefly lunched. Sue told her the woman had led Willie and her on a similar trek, however, neither as long nor as deep into the jungle as Beckie’s. All window dressing to make it appear that a search had been required and attempted.
The three survivors were bundled into the truck, the interior of which was like a refrigerator—the air conditioner in this vehicle functioned! Beckie shivered, then welcomed the cooling blast of air.
Arrival at the hotel was another excitement. Their appearances would certainly not go unnoticed, Beckie thought, as she went in flanked protectively by Willie and Sue, the officials leading the way. The concierge made many polite dismayed noises about the tours and the risks and how happy they all were— Beckie found it amusing to be fawned over, for all that she was to appear as an inept child.
The concierge did manage to say something about their new rooms being ready “as you requested, Monsieur” but Beckie didn’t worry about its meaning. She was busy moving forward while keeping her blanket about her—the dress was in complete disrepair. It required no acting for her to appear exhausted and discouraged, as if she’d actually gotten lost and now had to bear the consequences.
An elderly Thai bellman led them to their room, Willie’s farther down the hall than the one for the ‘sisters.’ Beckie was surprised to find all her bags present, contents laid out as if she was in the middle of her stay. She noticed that Sue took it all in stride, assuming, Beckie supposed, that it should be this way.
“Into the bath,” Sue commanded. “Get that stuff off. Call me when you’ve showered; I want to look at the scrapes and bites. Fortunately, the woman didn’t drag us very far; I’ve got a couple of bites and Willie is fine—long pants, you know.” Beckie stumbled in the commanded direction, before she hit the door Sue added, “Take a couple of these, too, first.” She tossed a plastic bottle across the room. “Salt tablets.”
The next hour was spent in getting rid of clothes, showering, examining and medicating as appropriate the sundry cuts, scrapes and bites on both girls. Finally Sue finished, with Beckie’s help, the examination of her own back, arms and legs; she pronounced the both of them all right.
They finally looked at the suite, ending up in the lavish, by Beckie’s standards, sitting room in hotel-provided robes, as it wasn’t yet time to dress for dinner. Beckie catnapped while Sue watched the TV.
“Hey,” she called, pushing Beckie’s shoulder, “Look! We got it in!” Beckie saw the photo of herself in the bikini splashed across the screen. Neither knew what the announcer was reporting, but she certainly appeared happy. Or maybe she’s amused.
Answering a knock on the door, Sue admitted Willie followed by Jamse and Derek.
“You saw?” Jamse asked, indicating the television.
“Saw, heard, didn’t understand,” Sue replied.
“Kiel Lot assures me that she told her listeners that the young American girl was briefly lost, but was recovered by quick action of the excellent local police, who say it was a simple case of a parent not taking care of his child, and the child not having good sense yet. All as we wished.”
“Does make us look silly, doesn’t it? Or me, at least.” Beckie observed.
“Mr. Lot promises that the amusement arises not from our example alone, but many such over the past few years. The cultural bureau has narrowly avoided fencing the area behind that shrine to reduce the number of similar incidents.
“Were your legs badly scratched?” he asked. “Will you be able to dress for dinner this evening?”
“No problem.” Beckie caught the robe closed across her bust and flipped it open to display her legs from navel down. Two twirls were sufficient. “Sue wants me to wear tights, so even the little marks you see won’t be a problem.” She grinned. “Trust me. Sue’s okay, too.
“However…” She slipped the robe off her left shoulder so it was held by her hand at her throat. “there is this scratch here…” Her finger traced an angry red mark that ran from between her shoulder blades across the point of her shoulder and on down her arm. She allowed the robe to fall to her waist, allowing Sue and Jamse to discuss it more closely. “Sue’s put stuff on it, but I’m not sure how it will look with the dresses we were going to wear.” She pulled the robe back into place.
“I would not consider it a problem. The word may even spread more quickly. Unless you are uncomfortable or self-conscious about it on your own behalf, give it no mind.” She nodded at his smile.
Except for inconsequential short conversations, they rested until late evening. Willie reminded them that Phuket followed the European tradition of dinner no earlier than nine, and no good would come of trying to hurry things.
Beckie and Sue had chosen matching dresses, very low cut on top, caught under the bust in an empire style and hemmed well above the knee. The skirt would pose no difficulties sitting or moving. Beckie dispensed with the bandeau bra which provided opacity the fabric of the dress only hinted at, though it was hardly see-through in the usual sense. Sue chose the more traditional approach.
Beckie led Sue into the sitting room; she appreciated the awe on both Willie and Jamse’s faces, though Jamse’s reaction was the one she’d hoped for. “How do you like them?” Sue asked.
“Wonderful,” Jamse said. “The colors complement each other.”
“The scratch on Beckie’s shoulder?” Willie said.
Jamse approached to examine it more closely. “I think it ideal,” he finally said. “The perfect offset to the adult image of the dress.” He smiled. “I am reminded of a plaster across the knee.”
Willie’d stood when they entered the sitting room; Beckie took him in her arms for a turn about the room, dancing to the music Sue had found on the TV. A second pass, Sue stepped in for her dance. When Sue passed, Beckie took Jamse’s hand, tugged him up to circle the room in a not quite elegant step which Jamse ended prematurely by walking Beckie back to the sofa.
“My God, Ian,” Willie cried, cutting off any comment Jamse would have made. “How can I pretend I’m their father! It will be completely obvious that I’m attracted to them in…” His voice dropped to a fake conspiratorial whisper. “… a physical way, not at all like a father should be.” He admired the dresses again. “And if I were their father, neither one would be allowed out of the room wearing those dresses.”
“Why, Willie?” Sue asked. Beckie almost laughed as she compared the innocence of Sue’s expression and the devilish glint in the woman’s eye.
“Well, Sue,” he said in a resigned voice, “they look like if you take a deep breath, you’d come right out of them. Not that it matters for Beckie, I guess. But that’s the old man in me talking. The young man thinks you’re trying to use a beautiful dress to help a figure and face and maybe a personality that don’t need it. It’s almost too much, for both of you. For either of you.”
Beckie proved the stability and holding power of the gown by putting her arms abound Willie’s neck and reaching up on tip-toe to give him a very undaughterly kiss, following it with, “Thanks, Willie. We’ll try not to make it too easy for you.” A big grin and she let him go.
“Very well,” said Jamse with a sigh. “The car will be at the door, you will be touring tomorrow morning and at the beach in the afternoon. We will meet again tomorrow evening. Derek and I need to do advance work.
“Enjoy yourselves, all of you.” He showed them out.
The White Egret was a pleasant little night club, seating perhaps 150 at between fifty and sixty tables, arranged aro
und a dance floor over which a twelve piece orchestra presided, performing an astounding variety of music as patrons ate, drank, talked and danced. Beckie suspected other activities were also going on, based on the traffic though the heavy white curtain encircling the main floor.
The dinner was as good as any Beckie had ever had. She enjoyed every course, concluding with apricot sorbet in champagne. Willie took both Beckie and Sue to the dance floor, not once but twice. There was a continuous flow of well-wishers, seemingly attracted by the obvious injury. While she was not the least conservatively dressed, Beckie noticed that the attention of many drifted slightly lower and to the right.
The visitors had tired her by about midnight; she was stretching her legs beneath the table, ready to say she’d had enough if the others had, when a dinner jacket the color of Sue’s dress caught her eye. She couldn’t see the man wearing it, except that he was threading his way across the dance floor.
Oh, no, she thought. Another looker… Then, he came around a decorative pillar close to their table.
“Hello, Derek,” she heard Sue say. “Whatever are you doing here?” Beckie heard the note of pleasure along with the surprise in her voice.
“Getting ready to ask you to dance,” he replied, a warm smile lighting his face. “May I?” Sue stood and swung off with him.
Beckie watched them dance throughout the number, but unexpectedly, Derek brought Sue back to the table, bowed, then faced Beckie. “Miss, may I ‘ave the ‘onor?”
Embarrassed far more than she expected, she could only mumble “Sure,” and let him take her hand. He led her to the floor as the orchestra began a slow waltz. “Thank you, Derek. Sorry I’m not better at this—”
“Thank you,” he replied. He chuckled. “To be ‘onest, I only wanted to see ‘ow real they were.” He indicated her gossamer bust.
A quick look at his eyes, she recognized his meaning. “You come by later tonight; I’ll show you how real they are…” She hugged herself to his chest so he could feel them. “I know it’s not as much as Sue has—”