his hard drive. He’d also found some stuff online about Elyse’s mother, Sein, and saved those to the computer, too. Now that he had nothing else to do, he was able to go through most everything.
Ruth’s Burma info didn’t really add much to what he already knew. Decades of repression, peppered with occasional bouts of protest that were always put down. The latest had been in the fall of 2007 after the government had raised fuel prices, putting further strain on a population that had very little money in the first place. This time the Buddhist monks in the city of Rangoon had gotten involved, leading the protest, until government thugs had put a stop to that. Logan could understand why Sein had such a passion for trying to free the people of her birth country.
When he’d looked her up online there had been hundreds of links. Human Rights websites, Burma-centric websites, news articles, interviews. There were also several dozen videos of talks she had given, and a couple of television interviews. He hadn’t downloaded everything, but those he did, he watched.
He was surprised that she didn’t look much different than the girl he remembered from twenty years before, and was impressed by her intelligent, matter-of-fact delivery. He’d expected more emotion, more rhetoric, but her calm, confident demeanor was so much more effective than any ranting would have been.
She talked about the crimes the Myanmar generals had committed, the deaths they had been responsible for, and the stranglehold they had on Burmese lives. Then she talked about her mother, how Thiri had gone to support Aung San Suu Kyi in hopes of making Burma a place her children could come back to without fear.
“Though they took her life, they did not take what her life was about. Her dream is still alive in me, like it should be in you. When tyranny and oppression are imposed on one person, they are imposed on us all. We must not stop until our brothers and sisters enjoy the same freedoms as we do.”
It was all pretty heavy stuff. Logan was almost glad when his battery ran out of power.
After a few hours layover in Hong Kong and a second flight, this one only two and a half hours long, he finally landed in Bangkok.
It didn’t take long to clear immigration and customs, and soon he was in a taxi on the way to a hotel his dad had booked for him online.
Logan had been to the country once before, in the summer between the Army and college. It was long enough ago, though, that he didn’t recognize most of what he saw on the drive.
The Angel City Hotel was a little boutique place, five stories high with a dozen rooms on each floor. While the building itself might have been old, the interior decor and the front facade were all new. Logan’s room was surprisingly large with tiled floors, a king size bed, and a bathroom he could have set up a cot in, all for less than the price of a room at a discount motel back home.
He took a shower and changed his clothes. Though it was around 12:30 a.m., his body clock was telling him was only 10:30 in the morning. His stomach was also sending him the message that it wanted to eat,
When he’d arrived, there’d been a lot of activity on the street, despite the late hour. Dozens of food vendors were set up along the sidewalks, while several of the shops were still open. As he went back outside, his intention had been to pop over to the 7-11 he’d seen across the road, and pick up whatever he could find to munch on, but the aromas coming from some of the nearby food carts drew him over.
A lot of the people he used to work with were skittish about eating food from street vendors, especially in developing countries, but Logan never was. Perhaps if he’d ever had a really bad reaction, he might have thought differently, but he hadn’t. So he picked out a couple of skewers of pork, a fried rice patty, and a bowl of vegetables and noodles, then sat at one of the temporary tables that had been set up near the carts.
As he knew it would be, the food was delicious. It was also dirt cheap. If he kept eating like this, the WAMO boys were going to get most of their money back.
When he finished, he did a quick calculation in his head. Thought it was the earliest hour of morning here, it was still afternoon in D.C.
“Logan, you’ve got to stop calling,” Ruth said in a strained whispered when she answered his call.
“I know, but at least I’m using your cell.”
“I told you not to call me on it either!”
“Sorry…Were you able to keep track of the plane?”
She remained silent for several seconds, then said, “After Tokyo, it went to Taipei, then Bangkok.”
Though he knew from the records at the Midwin-Robb office that the plane had been scheduled to come to the Thai capital, it was nice to hear it independently confirmed. “Do you know what time it arrived?”
“Around noon, local time.”
“Great. Thanks, Ruth. And thanks for the Burma info, too.”
“You can thank me by never calling me again.”
She didn’t give him the chance to respond before disconnecting the call.
As he stood up from the table, he pulled out the piece of paper Dev had given him. The polite thing to do would be to wait until morning to call, but he didn’t have time to be polite.
He dialed the number. Unfortunately, the only thing that answered was a beep. There wasn’t even any greeting, or instructions. He left his name and number, hoping he was actually being recorded, then hung up.
Back in his room, he took one of Barney’s pills, and stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. As he started to slip under, the image of the man carrying Elyse into the plane played across his mind. He tried calling to her, but she didn’t even look up. Then the scene at the plane gave way to Elyse in a cap and gown, then those were replaced a simple dress and wings growing from her back. Then even the wings faded away, and the girl was no
