Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I like this one-track-mind thing you’ve got going. Just follow directions.”
Darius Hawthorne was not a man to mince words. And his finality was not a thing to ever ignore.
“Now, put me on speaker so I can talk to everyone about escape plans and setting up dead drops to get you out of the country and over to Myanmar if needed. Also, someone has to get Nam and his family to a plane going to London in about seven hours. I have new passports and all the papers they’ll need ready for pickup, but they need an escort.”
I cleared my throat.
“Oh, fuck you, what?”
“We also need a cat carrier, an animal health certificate, and a ticket for Pickle.”
Long silence.
I never thought, in a million years, the words ticket for Pickle would ever come out of my mouth. “D?”
“Give me a minute. I need to process this.”
I bet he did.
As expected, I was broken the next morning. I had to roll sideways to get off the cot, and had to rise in stages. Normally, it wasn’t like this. And while it was true that I didn’t leap out of bed anymore, neither did I usually have to crawl.
Chris was on the porch, drinking coffee, and though it was already hot and humid outside, the breeze off the river helped.
“Was there coffee in the pantry last night?” I asked him. “Because I didn’t see any.”
“No.” Chris yawned. “I walked to the store. It’s not far, and you know I have trouble sleeping.” He passed me the newspaper.
We dominated the front page, everything about our shootouts the previous day. I skimmed through the copy of the Bangkok Post. There was a full-page article reporting on the two incidents of gunfire, but no names were mentioned. At least we hadn’t been identified.
I got a text then from Arden, who was with Nam and his family. She hadn’t wanted to leave me, but since Jing was allergic to cats, the task fell to her. They were waiting to board, and everything was on track. Instead of moving my plane, which was under surveillance, Darius had elected to fly the family, their cat, and Arden to Heathrow on a commercial flight. As usual, Darius’s tradecraft was flawless, and the family was safe. Darius had someone meeting them in London with paperwork that would see them settled in the UK. Nam was very appreciative. He had hugged me goodbye, had hugged Garland even longer, and was thrilled they would be calling England home. Apparently, they had other family there as well. Leave it to Darius to figure that out. Arden promised to get on a return flight as soon as she handed off the family.
Just then my phone rang, and when I looked at the screen, I smiled. “We’ve talked more in the last two days than we have in the last two months.”
“I have no doubt,” Darius agreed. “Listen, you’ve been invited to the embassy. Because of what went down yesterday.”
I knew there would be consequences. There always were. But, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Word to the wise,” Darius began, sounding grim, “make time. You’re kicking up a lot of sand in the ambassador’s box. Meeting with him is in your best interest.”
“Fuck.”
“I know we both agree that politics should come with a health warning, but there’s no way out of this.”
I knew that. “Make the arrangements, will you?”
“I will, and then I’ll text you the details.”
“Okay.”
“And Jared…wear a tie.”
When we were done talking, I returned to the living room to find Dante, Jing, and Garland glued to the flat-screen TV, listening to the breaking story from the banks of the Chao Phraya River.
“We made the local news,” Dante announced. “Or, you and Jing and Garland did.”
“The newspapers as well,” I replied.
“Police suspect triad activity is behind the two incidents,” Dante apprised me.
“Not triad. Chao Pho,” I corrected.
“What?” Jing asked.
“Chao Pho is the term used in Thailand to describe Thai organized crime.”
Dante took a sip of his tea and explained, “Chao Pho conjures images of protection rackets, drugs, prostitution, gambling rings, and so on. Thailand, just like every other country, has its own homegrown organized crime, but the country’s porous borders make it the ideal choice for many foreign mafia organizations to expand their business here.”
“Aw,” Jing said, smiling at me and Dante. “You guys make history fun.”
I scowled at her.
“What? You do. And I, for one, am in no way concerned about adding gangsters to the already complicated mix of corrupt spies and police.”
“Ditto,” Garland chimed in. “The more the merrier, I always say.”
Jing squinted at him.
“It’s better to have a positive attitude with these things, don’t you think?”
She turned to me. “What’s happening now, because your face looks weird.”
“Seems we have an appointment with the ambassador.”
Dante shrugged. “That’s not even remotely surprising.”
“We made a helluva lot of noise yesterday,” Chris said. “Someone was bound to take notice.”