The man shoved one of the monks out of his way. Only he didn’t get very far. Laying a violent hand on a monk was unheard of. Several Thais had seen the shove and were pulling the man back. More quickly joined in.
Logan craned his neck, looking ahead and hoping other monks had been able to corner Bell and Elyse, too, but no such luck. Bell was leading her and the Myanmar man down the short steps to the courtyard, with one of his men still with him.
“Excuse me!” Logan said loudly. “Excuse me!”
Daeng was shouting something in Thai next to him that he assumed was the equivalent.
It was working, at least a little. Some of the monks would look at them, then step out of the way once they saw Daeng. The biggest problem was the tourists. The sudden appearance of all the monks confused them, and they didn’t seem to know what to do, so they just stood in the way, taking pictures.
Finally, Logan and Daeng reached the exit steps. They raced down into the courtyard, not even worrying about grabbing their shoes.
“What about the generals’ men?” Logan asked. “One of them’s with Bell, but the others are going to get away.”
“No,” Daeng said. “They’ve been taken care of.”
“What do you mean?”
“The monks.”
“I thought you said they wouldn’t hold anyone by force.”
“I said they wouldn’t hold
Logan had a quick vision of the temple in Rangoon, and monks being beaten by the secret police. There would be no love lost here for those associated with that inhumane act.
They reached the top of the long, dragon-lined staircase. Logan took two seconds to pull off his socks so he wouldn’t slip, then kept moving. The others were about two-thirds of the way down, and he could see they’d taken a moment to put on their shoes. Bell’s man was carrying Elyse over his shoulder. It would have been nice if that had slowed him down, but he was moving as quickly as the others.
Daeng’s hand flew up, and he touched the Bluetooth receiver in his ear.
“They have Sein…in a van,” he said, his voice punctuated by the steps and the rhythm of his breath. “It’s waiting at the bottom.”
Bell was going to get away before they got there.
He couldn’t fail again. He just couldn’t.
He increased his speed, knowing he might end up tumbling all the way down, but he didn’t care.
Not only was Elyse still in danger, her mother was in trouble, too. The only way to make this right was if he could get both women free.
When he jumped off the final step, he estimated that the others had about a thirty second lead. With Daeng not far behind him, he sprinted down the looping path through the vending area, and toward the street.
But as he took the final turn, he stumbled to a halt.
He was too late.
The same gray cargo van that had been parked by Bell’s building in the outskirts of the city was now pulling away from the curb.
“No!” he yelled.
He whipped his head around, looking up and down the road. There were several taxis parked off to the right, but a four-wheeled taxi wouldn’t do him any good. What he wanted was—
—a motorcycle.
It was parked at the side of the road. Its owner was sitting on the curb, eating. The guy wasn’t wearing one of the familiar orange vests, though, so it was a pretty good bet his ride wasn’t a motorcycle taxi.
Logan sprinted over to him. “Speak English?”
“Yeah,” the guy said. “I speak.”
“I need to use your bike.”
He laughed. “You kidding? No way.”
Logan pulled out a thousand baht note and held it out to him. “You can drive.” With his other hand he pointed at the rapidly receding gray cargo van. “They took my friend!”
The guy looked at the van, then back at Logan. “Serious?”
“Yes.”
As Logan got onto the back of his bike, Daeng ran up. “Let your friends at the bottom know we’re going to need them,” Logan said.
He nodded, then pulled out his phone.
“What’s you name?” Logan asked his new driver.
“Kai.”
