The Hunt for Shambhala

7

Decker shoulder-barged Selena hard out of the way as the gun went off. The sound of the gunfire in the enclosed kitchen was deafening and they all heard the bullet ricochet off one of the woks with a sharp metallic ping.

They dived for cover as the man took a step forward and fired three more times, swinging the gun wildly in a vain attempt to hit one of the intruders.

But they had found safety for now. Decker and Selena were tucked down behind the island in the center of the kitchen and Riley was crouching behind one of the stoves opposite him.

Steam was billowing from a number of bubbling pots and several of the stir-fry woks were still on the flame. Smoke from the burning food curled up toward the ceiling and fogged the room. “I’ll turn you inside out for this, you little shit!” Riley yelled in his broad Aussie accent.

Decker peered over the island and saw the man. He was taking cover behind the freezer again and he heard him reloading the automatic pistol. It was now or never, so he scanned the kitchen for anything he could use as a weapon.

The only thing that came close to being a solution was a Thai meat cleaver resting on the top of the island a few inches from his hands. It was beside a pile of broken down chickens and still covered in blood and bone. He slipped his hand up and grabbed at it, but the man saw what he was trying to do and fired at him.

The bullet hit the island top and pinged off in a shower of sparks. The American ducked back down beside Selena. “Jesus!” he said. “Diversion please, Riley!”

“You got it!”

Riley picked up one of the bubbling woks and hurled it at the man as hard as he could. Pieces of pork and chive dumpling sauce sprayed all over the place as the wok struck the side of the freezer a few inches from the gunman’s face and forced him to pull back to avoid being burned.

The gambit had worked.

As the goon cursed loudly in Thai, Decker seized the moment and grasped the cleaver’s handle. Selena looked aghast at the chicken entrails all over the blade as the former Marine weighed in his hands.

“That’s awful!” she said.

“It’s going to get our asses out of here,” Decker said. “And that’s all I care about. Kunchai is getting away with your journal and this is our only chance.”

Before she could reply, Decker was crawling on his hands and knees through the kitchen, using the island in the center for cover as he made his way closer to the man behind the freezer.

He was about to charge the man when he saw Riley pounding across the kitchen. He was holding a giant wok like a shield and sprinted toward the man as fast as he could, screaming a war cry as he went.

The man heard the scream and spun around from behind the freezer and fired on the Australian. His bullets pinged off the wok and ricocheted all over the kitchen and then it was too late to re-aim. Riley was on him and smashed the wok into his face a second later. The man fell back and Decker leaped forward now, disarming him and punching him in the face.

The man saw it was two on one, and made a spirited attempt to fight back, but Riley was now charging toward him a second time. He struggled with the man but slipped on some oil and fell back onto the tiles, knocking more woks and measuring jugs off the stoves as he crashed down on the tiled floor with a thud. The man moved fast and was soon on him. He fired a rapid tiger punch which howled toward the Australian’s throat, but the former SAS man was too fast, flicking his head to the left to dodge the blow.

As Riley moved his head he scraped the back of his skull across the shattered glass splinters from the measuring jugs and felt them cut into him, but his focus was on gripping the man’s throat with his left hand and forcing him back. Riley could easily bench press one-eighty pounds, but he’d never done it when the downward force pushed him back into a sea of shattered glass.

But that’s the job, you stupid bastard, he thought as the man fired another jab at his throat. He was trying to crush his windpipe but he just wasn’t very good at it, and now it was Riley’s chance to turn the tables. He managed to lift his legs up and wedge one of his boots into the man’s stomach. He forced him away and he fell back onto one of the flaming gas rings where he screamed in pain and fear and for a few seconds forgot to defend himself.

Decker swung the cleaver at him and tore a long slash in his shirt. The man grunted in pain and took a step back. The American saw he had gotten more than the shirt — a long cut was running across the man’s chest and blood was pouring out now.

Decker thought about a second swipe of the blade, but the man was closer to Riley. A heartbeat later, Riley spun around in a tight arc and brought his right arm up with the momentum of his spinning body, smashing the man’s jaw and knocking him off his balance. As he staggered back and tried to stop himself from falling over, Riley finished the job with a second much sharper jab and powered the man backwards into the sinks where he fell with his head under the filthy washing up water.

Selena nodded her head. “Now this is what you’re good at, Riley.”

“Hey — I’m the one who disarmed him!” Decker said.

“And I’m most grateful.”

Riley turned to her and flashed his famous white smile. “I’m good at the jokes too though, right?”

Before she could answer, Riley pulled the man out of the sink and laid him down on the tiled floor. He looked up to see Selena staring down at him. “What?”

“You big softy.”

“He doesn’t deserve to drown, Lena. He probably just had a crappy childhood or something.”

“I can never tell if you’re taking the piss or not.”

“That’s too bad, but either way, he’s out cold so he’s no threat.”

“If you say so.”

“I do, plus now we’ve got these.” As he spoke he held up a bunch of keys that he’d just pulled from the man’s shirt pocket.

“So you’re not just a pretty face, but you should have let the guy die,” Selena said. “He tried to kill us!”

“See that CCTV camera up there?” Riley said, pointing to a security camera in the corner of the kitchen. “I know you can be crazy sometimes, Lena, but I’m sure you don’t fancy spending the next fifty years in Klong Prem Central.”

“What’s that?”

“A five star hotel, what do you think?”

It took a second for the truth to dawn on Selena’s face, but when it did she looked more shocked than ever. “You’re not serious?”

“You can’t just go around murdering people!”

Decker sighed. “Loving the ethics debate, but aren’t we supposed to be getting after Kunchai?”

“He makes a good point,” Selena said, pushing the door open with the toe of her shoe. She made a sweeping gesture with her hand and they all piled through the door in pursuit of the gangster with the stolen journal.

On the far side of a small yard they saw a gate, and Riley tried the handle on the off-chance but it was locked. He began to try the various keys on the bunch he had taken from the goon back in the kitchen. “If you’d let that guy drown we wouldn’t have these.”

“Hurry up, Riley.”

“I’m doing my best, Lena.”

“I know.”

The third key did the trick and a second later they were stepping out into a narrow lane. The moonlight was shaded by a large banyan tree. It was humid and dusty in the lane, and the scent of coriander and star anise drifted on the hot air from a fan in the wall of another nearby kitchen. Another heavy monsoon rainfall was soaking everything in sight, and then they heard a woman scream and the sound of gunshots coming from behind a large billboard advertising Coke.

They ran along the lane and as they rounded a corner below the billboard they saw Kunchai sprinting as fast as he could along another narrow backstreet toward the Chao Phraya River.

“There he goes!” Decker shouted. “Over there with a goon in tow.”

“Let’s get after him!”

By the time they got to the riverbank, Kunchai and his goon were inside one of the city’s famous water taxis. The Thai mobster fired his gun and the handful of passengers scrambled out of the boat but the driver began fighting with him. Kunchai and the driver struggled for a few seconds before the gangster shot the taxi driver and kicked his body into the river. After revving the engine hard he shot off into the center of the Chao Phraya and headed north.

“What now?” Selena asked, scanning the river for a boat. The water was an impenetrable brown-clay color and the smell drifting up from it almost made her feel sick.

“Now you know why the taxis have those blue tarps on the side,” Riley said with a grin. “They pull them up the sides when the boat gathers speed to stop the water going over the passengers. Swallow any of this stuff and you may as well get married to your toilet.”

“Urghh, how revolting… but we still need a boat.”

“There are no boats available, Lena, and I’m not the sort to shoot a man in order to get one.”

“He’s right,” Decker said.

“But he’s getting away and he’s our only chance if we want that journal back.”

Riley grinned. “Don’t worry about it… Madam, you transportation awaits.”

As he spoke, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

“Are you kidding?”

“No. What’s wrong with it?”

A few feet away from her, parked beside a line of bins, was a garishly painted red and blue tuk-tuk with two-tone neon-pink and lime green seats. Its chrome safety bars shone dully in the diffused monsoon light.

“It’s a bloody tuk-tuk, Riley,” she said. “I always swore I would never ride in one. It looks like something out of Charlie and the Sodding Chocolate Factory.”

“You mean the good one with Gene Wilder, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good, then climb on board because Kunchai’s turning the bend. Bastard could be going anywhere.”

Riley slammed the tuk-tuk into first gear with the clutch on the left handlebar and twisted the accelerator on the right and a second later they were skidding away from the bins and racing along the east bank of the Chao Phraya.

“You know how to drive this thing, I take it?” Decker said.

“Not my first time,” he shot back flatly. “Besides — it’s simple. First gear up, then down for the others, and brake operated by your foot.”

Selena looked impressed. “That easy, eh?”

“Uh-huh. It’s so easy even you could… nah, scratch that.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“How many attempts did it take until you passed your driving test again?”

“Look out,” Selena said with a sideways a glance. “He’s slipping out of sight.”

Riley laughed. “Don’t change the subject…”

“All right, all right,” she sighed. “I passed on my ninth attempt.”

“I knew it!”

“Can we focus on the job?” Decker said flatly.

“He really does make a good point,” Selena said to Riley.

The Australian twisted the accelerator even more and speeded up the tuk-tuk to the max, swerving out into the Thai night and racing toward Kunchai and the stolen journal.