When Lawan concluded, Preeda clapped and jumped into her mother’s arms.
“I love you, Momma.”
“I love yo—”
The door to the kitchen slammed inward with a loud slap. Deng Suttirat entered the kitchen, a harsh scowl over his face. He glared at Preeda, and she hid behind her mother. Lawan gave Deng a terse look.
“What is going on here?” he screamed.
“Deng don’t yell at Preeda,” she hissed.
He pointed his finger at her face. “We’re not finished.”
Lawan knelt beside Preeda, gently placing her hands upon her daughter’s cheeks. Exposing Preeda to Deng’s outbursts was the last thing she wanted.
"Sweetheart, go outside and play until Mommy comes to get you. Do you understand? Stay until I come to get you." She hugged her daughter and kissed her on the cheek. Preeda turned and bolted out the back door. Lawan turned to face Deng, her arms folded across her chest, each hand gripping the opposite elbow.
“Why do you choose to talk that way in front of her?” She glanced behind him to ensure they were alone.
“What way? That’s the way I always talk in front of her.”
“You’re scaring her. Can’t you be kinder? You’re her father.”
“I’m—”
“Stop,” Lawan cried. “We cannot do this in front of her. Especially when it is about her. She wants to go to school. She is ready to go to school. Preeda is a smart girl. Very smart for her age. I don’t understand why you won’t let her go to the temple school. All the children her age do.”
"I need her here," Deng said. Lawan sighed; Deng didn't need her to work. Eight other employees were working at the store. This was about control. It was about their relationship. He started to feel their sixteen-year age difference. His thinning hair sat over his gaunt face, and his eyes bulged out, abnormally so. Perhaps her mind played tricks on her, but his actions and words said it all. He lost all confidence in himself and now worried his young wife would leave.
Her own fears dominated her thoughts. She tried to convince him she would never leave him, but he did not believe her. He grew angry whenever she wore a dress he thought too inappropriate. She could not wear high heels because that made her stand taller than him. Lawan never considered leaving him, but they hadn’t slept together in over a year. She focused solely on Preeda. And he knew it.
“You don’t love me,” he said.
“Deng, you are my husband. I honor you—”
“Honor is not love. We have—we have not been . . .”
“Intimate?”
“Yes, intimate,” Deng said, “in over a year.” His posture slumped, and his shoulders sagged. She thought he might break down when he turned his head to look at her, his eyes squinted and his mouth tight.
“Soon, you’ll see how much you love me,” he said.
The darkness settled on Bangkok—a relief because the heat kept everyone inside most of the day. The crew walked to a Thai restaurant around the corner from the hotel. After dinner, Jason returned to the Landmark and went downstairs to the pub. The Filipino band played a variety of American music. Jason chuckled to himself. A British pub, Filipino band, American music, in Thailand. Classic.
His thoughts turned to Ben. Ben suggested he meet him at 2300. That was the “magic hour” because the first sergeant would periodically walk up and down his hallway before that time. After that, he tended to go do his own thing, which in Bangkok, could be anything.
Jason pondered where his friend went wrong. He used to say, “You never know who your friends are.” While that still held, he had grown and matured. Other than his father, who he only met seven years ago, he had no family. His mother’s life ended shortly after his father came back into his life. His friends were his family. It troubled Jason when his friends’ relationships had problems, even if he avoided those situations.
A happy marriage and a family were what Jason always wanted. Was it what he imagined? He got married in college, a mistake he realized years ago. His mother and father divorced before his birth. Was that wrong, too? Was that why he clung so tightly to his married friends and wanted to see them happy? Did he live vicariously through them?
Jason ordered a Singha Gold from the bartender, who set the drink in front of Jason. “I’ll start a tab,” Jason said, and the bartender nodded.
He took a long swig of beer and turned to enjoy the band. He stayed there until five minutes before eleven when he paid his bill and left. Heading upstairs, his luck held out when the first sergeant stepped off the elevator.
“Shirt,” Jason said, nodding his head when they passed.
"Hello, sir," the first sergeant replied as he walked to the front door. Another obstacle beat and Ben's advice on the first sergeant's schedule had been correct. Jason took the elevator to the eleventh floor.
15
October 13, 2003
The two Cambodians sat in the lobby of the opulent Landmark Hotel. Nimol grew frustrated they hadn't been able to find Ben Harris. He started to pull out his cellphone to call Monsieur Andrepont when he saw him. The American took the stairs from The Huntsman and headed to the elevator. Nimol tapped Ponleak and tilted his head toward their target.
“Let’s go,” Nimol said. The two men scurried across the lobby when Ben Harris entered the elevator. The doors closed before they reached him, but the elevator next to his opened and the two men jumped in and pressed ‘11.’
Jason stepped on to the eleventh floor and found himself in a crowded hallway filled with the Navy SEAL team supporting the exercise. He recognized the squad leader, Ensign Remington Clark, from their meeting with McClendon that afternoon.
“Hey, Remi,” Jason said, glancing around. “You guys going into the field?”
"Yeah, we've got a little training exercise with the Thais. Nothing special. A small price to pay for our mini-vacation Uncle Sam is providing for us. With per diem, no less."
Jason nodded. “See you at breakfast?”
“You bet. We should be back by then. We might smell a little, but I don’t think anyone will notice.”
“If they do, I don’t think they’ll say anything,” Jason said, grinning.
He studied the other seven team members in the hallway. They all were in their jungle fatigues, wearing vests, with numerous ammo magazines stuffed in pouches. The SEAL squad was in the process of placing their weapons in various bags and containers as Jason moved to Ben’s door.
He knocked on the door, and the elevator dinged. The SEALs stopped packing and instinctively looked toward the noise, except the one furthest away, who covered the opposite direction. The one closest to Jason reached toward his thigh holster and silently unlocked the strap holding the pistol in place.
Seconds later, two men Jason assumed where Thais rounded the corner and halted in their tracks.
Nimol’s heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened. He and Ponleak stumbled onto something. They didn’t know who this Ben Harris was, but for some reason, he had a lot of protection. Ponleak continued to creep toward the heavily armed warriors, who stopped what they were doing and glared at him. Nimol felt the tension build rapidly.
“Ponleak, we must go.”
“But I see him. He’s going into his room.”
Nimol peered beyond the soldiers in camouflage. Ben Harris looked right at them and ducked into his room. "This isn't going to work. Guards are surrounding his room. We would need a small army to take on this group."
Nimol grabbed Ponleak by the elbow. “Come, let’s go. We’ll call Monsieur Andrepont and update him.”
“He won’t be happy.”
“No, but he’ll be interested in what we’ve seen here.”
Jason watched the standoff between the two men from the elevator and the SEALs, who considered everyone a threat. He didn’t even turn away when Ben’s door opened. He sensed there was a threat, too.
“Hey, come on in.” Ben turned and walked back into his room. “You want a drink?”
/> Shifting his attention from the SEALs to Ben, Jason entered the room and closed the door behind him.
"No, thanks," Jason said. "I'm good. I had a few downstairs."
Ben sat on the couch, typed several keystrokes on his laptop, and shut it. Jason followed him into the room and sat in the chair across from his longtime friend.
“I appreciate you coming, Jason. I know you’re taking a huge risk seeing me.”
“You’re my friend, and you’re in trouble. I can’t avoid you simply because the mission commander says so.”
“Everybody’s willing to fall on his sword for something, right?”
Jason thought about Ben’s words. It was something their ROTC instructor told them years ago, in college. Each person had his or her values, beliefs, and morals. It was guaranteed that, at some point, those would come in conflict with the rigid complexities of the military. His challenge to the cadets was to be mindful of what you would take a stand for because your first time could very well be your last.
“Something like that.”
“Looks like you’re willing to fall on your sword for me. I appreciate it. I really do.”
Jason nodded. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
Ben took a deep breath and stood. He walked across the room and poured himself a Mekong and Coke.
“Aren’t you prohibited from drinking?”
“Yeah, just like you’re prohibited from talking to me.” Ben laughed and took a sip of his drink. “That is such a stupid order. He did it to piss me off more than anything. I guess there’s not much more he could think of to punish me when my prison is a five-star hotel.”
“So, what’s up?”
Ben walked back toward him but remained standing at the end of the couch.
“This guy. The casino owner . . . I still owe him ten-thousand dollars.”
“I thought you paid him off.”
“No, no. I still owe ten-grand.” Ben paused. “His name is Maison Andrepont. He’s a French expat who owns the casino in Poipet.”
“And?”
“And this French guy, he’s a killer. I’ve already embarrassed him by taking so long to pay him off. I missed the first deadline. I was lucky he sent his girlfriend to collect what I had. She went easy on me.”
“Girlfriend? Let me guess. The hot blonde from the card table?”
“Yeah, she works for him, too. Some sort of kinky relationship thing. But she is smokin’ hot. Don’t know how the hell he found her, but she’s one of a kind in this part of the world.”
“Sounds like you’re smitten.”
“Sorry, she’s hot. And smart.”
“Yeah, you’re hooked. Get back to the French guy.”
“If I don’t deliver the gold by tomorrow, he’s gonna kill me.”
Jason tensed. “He’s going to kill you?”
“Yes, literally. As in slit-my-throat, bullet-in-the-head, poison-in-my-food, beat-me-until-I-stop-breathing-type kill me.”
“But what if we fly you back to Okinawa? He can’t reach you there.”
“Yes, he can. The guy has tentacles all over the Pacific. He makes the mob look like amateurs. There is actually a wall in his casino with framed newspaper clippings of the people he’s killed.”
“And he showed you these?” Jason said.
“Yeah.”
“He tried to intimidate you.”
“Hell, yes. And it worked. I’m scared shitless, Jason.”
“What if the gold isn’t ready? What if it takes two more days before he gets his payment?”
"Good question. One I asked. It doesn't matter to him. A deal is a deal, which includes the timeline. Even if I pay him off late, I'm still a dead man. It just won't be as painful. Apparently, he has a reputation to uphold."
Jason nodded when his old friend finished his story. The fear in his old friend's eyes was evident. Ben's voice cracked until it reverted to a loud whisper. Unusual for him. Jason contemplated what came next, and he hated himself for what he was about to ask. He stayed silent for what seemed like minutes but was perhaps ten seconds.
“What do you want from me?” Words he regretted as soon as he said them. He knew the answer, but the truth was, he would have asked anyway. Ben was his friend. For the first time tonight, Ben smiled.
“I need you to pick up the gold for me. Tomorrow. And don’t be late.”
16
October 13, 2003
After sleeping until 10:00 a.m., Jason crawled out of bed and wandered down to the restaurant buffet. As advertised, the SEALs were there, eating after a long night in the field. They were easy to spot. Eight large Americans wearing camouflage, devouring food as if it were their last meal. Nobody questioned their appearance; the Landmark had a history of military personnel staying there. Showing up in the restaurant in uniform was normal. Jason sat with the SEAL team, and they filled him in about their exercise the night before.
He checked his G-Shock watch and bid the team farewell, then walked downstairs to meet with his crew. They waited for him at a round table near the bar. They were laughing when he approached.
“Did I miss something?” Jason said.
“Co is riding commando this morning,” Lon said. “Seems like he woke up after another night in Bangkok with all his underwear frozen. In a block of ice.”
Jason glimpsed at Jimmy with a slight grin. He remembered when he was younger and reckless at times. Perhaps he should have a talk with the young lieutenant sometime today.
“Unfortunately, the ones he wore last night found their way to the freezer, too,” Chris chimed in.
Jimmy ignored the comment, apparently focused on balancing himself on the barstool. Jason glanced at each of the crew members and started to ask which unlucky soul removed the co-pilot's briefs. When he noticed Lacey blushing, he decided it was better not to know the details.
Jason looked around for a seat, glancing toward the bar. An older gentleman sat there with an empty chair next to him.
“Is someone using this chair?”
The old man faced him with a bright smile. "Why, no. Please feel free to use it as you wish."
“Thank you.” Jason noted the bushy, pepper-colored mustache that curled up at both ends with a well-trimmed matching beard. The gray eyes behind the round glasses drilled through him.
Jason returned to the table, climbed into his seat, and gave Lon a condemning eye. "Alright, fellas, this needs to stop now. We're in a foreign country, and we need to watch out for each other. You old heads have been around long enough to realize the inherent dangers in these circumstances. Young Jimmy here has not."
“Awe, Captain Conrad, this is Thailand. Nothing is going on here,” Lon said.
“On the contrary—you guys received the brief when we got here. There are terrorists in Thailand. While they are mostly transiting through or even vacationing, they are still here. I suppose it wouldn’t take much to find a target of opportunity and make a name for themselves. Remember why we’re here: one of our own was attacked at the old hotel. And he had not been drinking. “
“He’s not one of our own,” Chris said.
“He’s an American and an Air Force officer, that’s what counts.” Jason understood what Chris meant, but he refused to give it any more credit. “My point is, no more drinking until someone is unconscious, clear?”
All heads nodded. Jimmy fought back a smile, and Jason realized he was too hungover to contribute to any sort of conversation. “How was the trip to Venus?”
“Awesome. Bought too much, as usual. They asked about you. Said you spent a lot of money last year on jewelry for a pretty girl back in New York. Hadn’t seen you since.”
Jason bit his lower lip. That last-ditch effort to sway Sherri Davis to stay in his life failed. The Global War on Terrorism took them in two different directions. Far enough apart that he could not look back now.
“Did you know we’re going to be back in Thailand in June?” Chris said.
“No,” Jason sa
id, waiting for the punchline.
"Yeah, Venus told us we'll be here on another bi-lateral exercise. Amazing how she always knows this stuff before we do."
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Amazing. What’s the plan for you guys today?”
Martinez spoke up. “I think we’ll shift gears a little and take a long-tail boat tour of the river. That’ll keep us away from the bars.”
“Hey, we can bring our drinks with us,” Lon said. Jason gave him a terse look, which Lon detected immediately. “Or not.”
“You going to join us today, pilot?” Martinez asked.
“No,” Jason said. “I’m going to pick up something across town.”
“You’re not supposed to go anywhere alone, Jason,” Thomas blurted. It was the first thing he said all morning.
“I’m not going alone. I’m going with our driver, Chaow.”
“That doesn’t count,” Thomas countered.
“Sure, it does. I already cleared it with Colonel McClendon.” That was partially true. He only mentioned the part about Chaow driving him somewhere, not why he wanted him to do it. Or that it would just be the two of them.
“You want one of us to go with you?” Chris said.
“No, I’ll be fine. We’re just going to Suttirat’s Jewelers on the north side of the city.”
“Venus will be pissed at you,” Chris replied.
“I’m just picking up, not buying.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. Giving out too much information is not something he planned to do.
Chris’s head jerked up. “Are you—”
Jason put up his hand to stop Chris from finishing his question. He figured he was going to ask about Ben and did not want to discuss it in front of the crew. Particularly Thomas.
The Quiet Professional Page 8