Emerald Buddha

Chapter 48

The bridge from Myanmar to Thailand wasn’t a viable option for anyone traveling without documentation, so after arriving in Tachileik at mid-afternoon, Spencer and Drake spent several hours trying to find someone to take them across the Mae Sai River, which served as the border between the two countries. Eventually they were able to work a deal with a local fisherman, who ferried them across at dusk for a hundred dollars.

A taxi spirited them south to Chiang Rai, where they checked into a small hotel that catered primarily to the backpacker community, judging by the other guests, who were uniformly shaggy, unshaven, and almost as filthy as Drake and his companions were. After showering, Drake and Spencer set off to find a doctor who would be working at such a late hour. They didn’t have to look far: the first pharmacy they came across featured a physician who lived upstairs, who cleaned Spencer’s wound and gave him an injection of antibiotic without comment.

“Do you have a feeling he’s seen more than a few bullet wounds in his time?” Spencer asked, as they descended the stairs from the doctor’s home office.

“In this area, it’s probably his main source of revenue. At least he’s had a lot of practice.”

“Now we need to buy a phone. Let’s hope there are some shops open this late.”

Luck was with them, and they found an electronics store at the night market in the city center, which was teeming with humanity, mostly bored youths killing time without spending anything, groups of them wandering the lanes and eyeing the young girls, who pretended to be oblivious to their interest.

When the phone was activated, Drake called Collins, who sounded surprised to hear from him.

“Where are you?” Collins demanded.

“We just crossed into Thailand.”

“We?”

“Yes. I was able to rescue Allie and Spencer. Oh, and Christine. But Uncle Pete didn’t make it.”

“What? Where precisely are you in Thailand?”

“Chiang Rai.”

“Give me all your information.”

“Like what? How I was nearly killed by the goons that captured them? Or how the CIA did nothing to rescue them before they were murdered?”

“Ramsey, this isn’t a game. Tell me exactly where you’re staying so I can get agents there to debrief you.”

“Fine.” He gave Collins the hotel information. “Now what?”

“Wait for our man to arrive.”

“When?”

“Probably tomorrow morning.”

“That really narrows it down.”

“My next call is to the local office. Expect visitors shortly.”

Drake hung up and tossed Spencer the phone. “I can’t believe these guys. They would have left you for dead, and he sounds pissed that everyone made it out alive. He didn’t even ask what happened to Uncle Pete.”

“That’s the agency for you. Not all that great a bedside manner.”

“Well, screw them.” Drake looked both ways, and they crossed the street to where a vendor was selling steamed food from a cart. “Think this is safe to eat? I’m starved.”

“After the shot the doc gave me, I could probably eat a fistful of maggots and they wouldn’t hurt me.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “You asked.”

They ordered skewers of something resembling chicken chunks slathered with a brown sauce, and sat on the curb, which was littered with discarded paper plates. Drake tried a tentative bite and smiled. “Not terrible.”

“I don’t want to even guess what part of the dog this came from.”

“What do you think will happen with Christine?” Drake asked as they wolfed down their meal.

“I have no idea. It’s out of our hands. We did our job, so we’re off the hook. Let Collins and whoever figure out their mess.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like me. What happened to the whole ‘You don’t want to say no to the CIA’ line?”

“Getting shot and almost killed gave me time to reconsider.”

“I hear it’ll do that.”

Reggie worked his way along the ridge, his night vision goggles fading as the battery waned, and cursed his control officer for the thousandth time that day. He’d had to play a running game of hide-and-seek with the Shan patrols that had circled the production facility, and was soaked through with sweat, as well as exhausted. When the call had come in ordering him to stand down and find his way to Chiang Rai immediately, with no explanation of what had happened to the team of commandos that had been winging their way to Thailand, he’d been both relieved and furious. His anger had changed to disbelief when his control had told him the reason for the urgency.

“So the amateurs rescued the girl?” he’d repeated, his tone deliberately flat. That civilians had been able to find her and break her out of a heavily fortified location left him dumbfounded. “You’re kidding me.”

“You heard me loud and clear. We’ve got people on their way from Bangkok, but we’d prefer to have you handle the girl.”

“Handle? In what way? She’s safe, isn’t she?”

“It appears so. But we’ll want you to take her into protective custody until we can get her out of the country.”

“I see. You want me to take an American citizen, the daughter of a senator, into custody…”

“It’s for her own good.”

“Right. And who am I turning her over to?”

“We’ll let you know. How soon can you be there?”

“Not until dawn, best case.”

“That isn’t acceptable.”

“I’m deep in the jungle and have to hike out. Then I have to drive the night roads in a country that hates Americans and that’s swarming with drug traffickers and rebel forces, cross an international border, and make it to Chiang Rai. The only way I can be there faster is if you send a helicopter.”

“Let me see what I can do.”

That had been three hours earlier, and he was still a half mile from his vehicle. The phone buzzed again, and he stopped on the trail to answer it.

“Yes?”

“No go on the helo. Where are you?”

“I should be at my car shortly.”

“Report in when you’re in Thailand and you have her.”

“What about the field office personnel?”

“They’re on their way, but there was a glitch on their end. You might arrive first. Just call when you arrive.”

“Will do.”

Nothing about this operation had gone according to plan, and now it seemed to be running further off the rails with each call. Reggie’s goggles were all but dead by the time he reached his car, but he kept them on with his headlights off for another twenty minutes, preferring to chance colliding with an ox than alerting anyone to his presence on the road.

He didn’t dare risk taking the car across to Thailand, given how he’d come by it — the last thing he needed was to be jailed for driving a stolen vehicle — so he jettisoned his weapons and walked across under the watchful eye of the Thai military. Once in Mae Sai, he found a working taxi and was soon on the road south. He arrived at his destination at five a.m., dizzy from sleeplessness, and woke the proprietor of the hotel to rent a room. The old man seemed annoyed at the imposition until Reggie flashed his wad of baht, at which point he was all smiles.

Reggie stowed his gear and rinsed off in minutes, and felt marginally human by the time he knocked on Drake’s door. When Drake opened it, his hair was matted to one side from sleep, and he looked disoriented.

“I’m Reg. Where’s Christine?” Reggie announced as Drake glared at him with red eyes.

“She’s two rooms over. Number seven. Like I told Collins.”

“I tried that. Nobody answered.”

“Maybe she’s asleep,” Drake said with a shrug, and began closing the door. Reggie blocked it with his boot.

“Why don’t you be a sport and help me wake her?” Reggie asked, a smile in place, but his tone dangerous.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Drake spat, looking down at Reggie’s boot.

“I’m your new friend. Let’s see how Christine’s getting along and I’ll be out of your hair, okay? Sound like a deal?”

Drake didn’t say anything. Reggie waited while he retreated into the room, pulled on a new T-shirt with the name of a Thai chewing gum emblazoned across the back, and stepped outside.

Reggie knocked on Christine’s door again with the same result. Eventually Allie opened her door, which was adjacent to Christine’s room, and eyed Reggie and then Drake.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Where’s Christine?” Reggie demanded.

“How would I know?”

Something inside Reggie’s head snapped, and he growled an expletive and kicked Christine’s door as hard as he could. The flimsy lock gave and the door sprang open. All three of them looked inside, and Drake shook his head.

“Looks like she’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone? Why didn’t you stop her?”

“You mean why didn’t I, a private citizen, stop another person, who’s over twenty-one, from doing whatever she felt like? Um, because I haven’t slept for two days and was catching up on pillow time, for starters. That, and I’m not a cop,” Drake said sarcastically. “And neither are you, Reg, are you? Because if not, it looks like you’ve got some explaining to do,” Drake finished as the proprietor neared them, carrying a baseball bat, two of his sons trailing him.

Reggie’s pulse throbbed in his temples while the owner glowered at him and jabbered in outraged Thai. Allie smiled at Drake and paused in front of her room. “Breakfast in maybe… six hours?” she asked.

Drake returned the smile and, after a wave at Reggie, winked at Allie.

“It’s a date.”