Emerald Buddha

Chapter 40

Uncle Pete shifted the AK-47 strap from his left shoulder to his right as he watched the perimeter of the clearing. He and Harry were standing sentry for the first three hours as the rest slept. He’d be relieved in another thirty minutes, and after getting a few hours of rest, they would push on to the Shan encampment.

Uncle Pete made a gesture to Harry — he had to relieve himself. The Shan nodded and Uncle Pete disappeared into the brush. When he was a hundred yards from the camp, he stopped and waited. He’d made a surreptitious call on the satellite phone an hour into his shift, and his rendezvous should have shown himself by now.

Jiao stepped out from behind a tree. When he was close enough so they could hear each other’s whispers, he studied the little Thai before speaking.

“So?”

“There was no temple. Just a store of weapons and some drugs.”

“I don’t care about that. What about the plane? What’s their plan?”

“We’re going back to the Shan base and then probably returning to the crazy American’s village. There’s nothing out here for them, no further reason to stay,” Uncle Pete said.

“And the CIA has no idea what happened to the girl?”

“No. But they said they’d get back to us when they had more information.”

Jiao gave Uncle Pete a dark stare. “You must remain vital to them. If they discover anything, you will tell me immediately. Is that clear?”

“Of course, but there’s only so much I can do. Now that these fools found the plane, their part in this is over. If the people in Washington don’t want me involved any longer, I can’t force them.”

Jiao frowned. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that your family’s lives depend on your performance. One word from me, and your beloved granddaughter will meet with a horrible accident. I will not tolerate failure.”

“How can I forget? It’s all I think about.”

“That and the money we’re paying you.”

“I have done my part. I am keeping you informed. If I learn anything, you will be the first to know.” Uncle Pete waved in the direction of the camp. “Now go. I will call when I have more.”

“Is there any reason to shadow you to the village?”

“None I can think of. Unless you’re enjoying Myanmar’s charms.”

“Very well. See to it that you call. Remember your granddaughter. She’s a little miracle. It would be a shame if misfortune befell her.”

Uncle Pete’s face was a cold mask. Only his eyes betrayed the hatred that simmered behind them. Jiao nodded in satisfaction at the man’s glare. “I see you understand. Good,” he said, and then turned and strode back into the tangle of plants, his boots silent on the moist soil.

Uncle Pete relieved himself quickly and returned to the camp, barely containing his fury at the Chinese intelligence officer’s threat. He shouldn’t have been surprised when his seemingly harmless subterfuge turned on him and the gloves came off, the promises of more cash replaced by threats he knew the Chinese were fully prepared to carry out — but it still shocked him how callously Jiao discussed murdering his granddaughter, who was only four years old.

His sideline, working all ends against the middle, had seemed savvy when he’d first been introduced to the Chinese through a mutual acquaintance in Thailand. Uncle Pete didn’t mind that his friend was employed by the enemy — the truth was that anyone whose desires ran counter to what was best for the corporations that ran America was their enemy. It wasn’t his fight, and he viewed his allegiance as that of a player on a sports team, who might be traded the following season and be wearing a different jersey.

The U.S. was the largest exporter of weapons in the world, so it was obviously in its best interests for the planet to be at constant war or fearful of imminent war; otherwise, there would be no demand for its wares. Uncle Pete completely understood the logic. It had been that way for generations and would likely continue long after he’d passed on. And the Americans paid well, and asked for little — that is, until this foray, when they’d become reliant on him. Which was largely due to the Chinese taking out Alex so that Uncle Pete’s star could ascend in his absence.

No part of Uncle Pete had been troubled by that act. It was business. The Chinese had wanted him joined at the hip with the search party, with a minimum of outside interference — and had been banking on there being something salvageable in the wreckage. If Alex had been part of the group and there had been a surviving data storage device, Uncle Pete wouldn’t have been able to snatch it and turn it over to Jiao. Plus, Alex had treated Uncle Pete like an underling, inferior, which made it easy to betray the arrogant CIA agent. Uncle Pete hadn’t wished ill on the man beyond that, and had actually been surprised at how extreme the Chinese agents had been in dispatching him. He’d believe they might mug him and bonk him on the head, not run him down.

And now the same savages were threatening his family.

He shook his head to clear it; the fatigue from being awake for thirty hours settled on him like a heavy weight as he made his way back to where the Shan waited.

Upon his reappearance, Harry eyed him disapprovingly. Uncle Pete gave the frowning Shan a pained half smile and a shrug. “Stomach not what it used to be.”

Harry nodded; and then the jungle exploded with gunfire, and the top of his skull blew apart.