Emerald Buddha

Chapter 33

Jiao yawned and stretched as he bedded down on a rough wood-framed cot in the tiny farming village where he’d called it a night after a long journey from the river. His source had checked in the day before and alerted the Chinese about where the Americans were headed, and he knew he’d have to tread cautiously if he was to make it without being discovered. His men were camped out in a nearby field — he’d taken pains to avoid being seen with them as a group, as he didn’t want to arouse any interest.

An offer of a few bills to the largest farm had yielded a cot in a rustic room adjacent to the barn, which was more than fine after the previous night in the jungle. Tomorrow he’d be going deeper into hostile territory and would be sleeping on a bedroll, so Jiao stretched and savored the relative luxury of four walls and running water nearby.

The source had told headquarters that the Americans had located the plane deep in Shan Army territory, and were going to attempt to work a deal with that group. Jiao’s intent was to shadow them and, once they were at the plane, to make his move — or not, depending on what the source indicated they found. The informer had a sat phone, as did Jiao, so communications weren’t a problem, although his source had made it clear that the phone would be off until he was ready to share information.

Jiao didn’t like that arrangement, but the informer had been adamant, so he’d backed down and agreed to the terms. He could see the logic — the last thing the snitch wanted was to be found out, and Jiao shared that fear. The man would be of no use if the Americans suspected he was selling them out. That was to be avoided at all costs.

The irony was that nobody had any idea if Liu had been carrying anything, much less whether it had survived the crash. Likely not, he’d been assured, so this whole ordeal was probably for nothing. But even if the odds were only one in a million, they had to be sure — the stakes were far too high to leave anything to chance. The possibility of Liu being in possession of data the Chinese might want had been the only part of Jiao’s final solution in sabotaging the plane that he hadn’t factored in; but then again, he hadn’t had all the information when making the decision.

Jiao tried to get comfortable on the canvas as his mind went over the next day’s objective. They’d have to make better time than they had today, because they had to cover at least thirty miles. The hope was that he could find a willing driver who could cart them at least part of the way; otherwise it was looking like two full days to reach the site.

That part made him apprehensive. In spite of the impression headquarters had, the roads were little more than ruts. His superiors believed it wouldn’t be difficult to make most of the trip by truck or bike, but Jiao wasn’t so sure.

He and his men were dressed in local garb, the cheap shirts and pants worn by the farmers, and if stopped by the Shan army, they’d likely be ignored. That was the hope, anyway. If all else failed, he could buy his way out of trouble. The population’s love for money was reliable anywhere in the world, just as his informant had been buyable. The only thing that ever changed was the currency and the amount.

Night creatures serenaded Reggie as he lay on the bank of a creek, his theory being that the flat gravel would act as a deterrent to snakes and other predators. He peered up at the glimmering stars and offered thanks for the lack of clouds. With luck he’d be able to sleep without getting soaked multiple times, as he had throughout the day.

He’d made reasonable progress toward the plane, but it had been a tough slog, and he’d ultimately stolen an ancient bicycle to speed his trip. His guilt had compelled him to leave a fifty-dollar bill in its place, easily five times what it was worth. But the theft had proved fortuitous, and he was now only twenty miles from the coordinates he’d been given — an easy ride, assuming he could continue to avoid Shan Army patrols.

Being obviously not Asian was an impediment operating in Myanmar, but he had no choice but to forge on. He’d do his best, and if captured, would have his control pull strings with the Shan troops, who were on a cordial basis with the CIA. That would blow his cover, but if it was either that or torture and death, he was sure the agency would understand. At least, that was his hope.

But it would be better to stay under the radar. They were so close now. The seemingly impossible had come to pass, and the plane would be inspected shortly — perhaps as soon as tomorrow. Then he could return to the world and leave the entire mess behind, his job done, another successful notch in his belt.

The nearby bushes rustled and he inched the barrel of his pistol over to face it. He wasn’t worried about random drug gangs this far inland, but there were plenty of other menaces lurking in the hills, many of them deadly — and hungry.

A small furry form edged from the brush. Two glittering eyes spotted him, and the creature scurried away.

He smiled up at the night. A panther or, worse, a crocodile wouldn’t be so easily spooked. He’d debated trying to find a tree to sleep in, but discarded the idea in favor of the bank.

Reggie could go days without rest if absolutely necessary, but as he’d gotten older, his stamina had flagged. He didn’t want to test his endurance tomorrow, when things got real. What was possible and what was advisable were two different things, and the aches in his body were unmistakable signals that he was no longer the twenty-something dynamo he’d once been.

He opened his eyes and checked the time. It would be light in six hours. If he got two of sleep, he’d be happy.