Betrayal

the assault.”

“Yes. All you need to do.” Arthur sighed and brushed lint from one knee of his expensive slacks. “Believe me, if I could have supplied you with more helpful intelligence, I would have. The limitations of the area are as frustrating to me as they are to you.”

“With an important difference. I’m the one who is going to have to risk my life in the jungle. You’re going to be monitoring it on a screen, safe, halfway across the world.”

“We all have our roles in this. I shall get you everything you require and arrange for a hospitality committee upon your arrival.”

“No. I want to limit the number of people who know anything about this. I’ll need a satellite phone to reach you. Beyond that, I only want to meet the ranking agent in Thailand. Nobody else. You have no idea what kind of reach the target has there. He was in place for a decade. In a tightly knit society like the Asian criminal syndicates, I have to believe that he’s got as good or better a network than you have. Anyone could tip him off. I’d rather not be the latest body to be discovered in a ditch somewhere.”

Arthur nodded and rose with effort from the sofa, taking care to adjust the rake of the white fedora perched on his head. In the late afternoon light, he resembled nothing so much as a mottled pink moray eel in a creme- colored suit and hat. Thankfully, his reptilian eyes were shielded behind a pair of dark sunglasses.

“It shall be as you wish. I’ll arrange for a first-class ticket to Thailand on the next flight out and have an operative bring over the cash and the card. The phone will be in Bangkok when you arrive. I’ll leave it to you to decide where you want to stay.”

“Perfect.”

“Your passport and things are all there.” He motioned at the small package he’d placed on the table when he’d arrived. “I do hope you’re successful with this. I really don’t bear you any ill will. This is strictly business, and you are helping me solve an embarrassing problem. I’ll keep my end of the bargain. A million dollars and your child back, no further strings.”

Jet didn’t believe him for a second, but said nothing. She was sure he would try to betray her once the mission was concluded. That’s how his type operated. She wondered idly whether he thought she believed him, then decided it didn’t really matter.

“Well, then,” Arthur said. “I suppose this will be the last time I see you until your triumphant return. Good luck. Contact me for anything you need.” He stepped to the front door. “There’s a contact protocol in with your ID. Blind e-mail, my dedicated scrambled line. All the usual.”

“I’ll be waiting for the courier,” Jet said, anxious to be rid of him. She had a difficult time keeping herself from hurtling across the room and tearing out his throat when she was in his presence. If he sensed that, he showed no indication.

Jet watched as he took careful steps down to the street and slid into his waiting car, the driver holding the rear door open for him before trotting around and climbing behind the wheel. When the car pulled off, she felt a palpable sense of relief.

The package contained everything. She methodically scrutinized the contact information and committed it to memory, absently rubbing the spot on her arm where the chip had been recently implanted. She went to pack.

It would be a while before the courier would arrive, but Jet wanted to be ready at a moment’s notice.

Chapter 10

Jet peered out through the window as the huge plane banked over the Gulf of Thailand on final approach to Bangkok Suvarnabhumi International Airport, on the outskirts of the city. The serpentine brown of the Chao Phraya River poured its polluted rush into the sea, turning the blue water gray as it pervaded the coast. One of the region’s near-constant cloudbursts had just rolled through, and the runway was slick with evaporating moisture as the wheels struck the tarmac and the behemoth decelerated down the long, black strip.

A buzz of energy circulated the cabin as the jet taxied to the stainless steel and glass terminal. The flight had been a long and turbulent one, and the travelers were glad to be on the ground. About half appeared to be Thais returning home, and the others were tourists or business travelers, groggy and restless after nearly eighteen hours of flight time from Los Angeles.

Even before the flight attendants opened the fuselage door, the atmosphere had changed to the exotic. Small differences in the way the passengers interacted with each other hinted at social norms that were markedly different than in the Western world. The Thais executed small bows from the waist with their palms pressed together to each other as they terminated their in-flight discussions and reached to help with overhead bags. She had spent the flight immersed in a primer on the culture, and the wai was one of the first items discussed — a bow that was combination traditional greeting, farewell, and ‘thank you’ gesture. One of the countless ways that Thailand was different. She would need to adapt quickly to the culture if she was going to fit in.

The language would also be a problem for her. She didn’t speak Thai, but her reading had assured her that many natives in larger metropolitan areas spoke English due to the massive tourism trade that catered to English- speaking visitors from New Zealand and Australia, as well as from the United States and England — many of whom came to Thailand for sex tourism — a libidinous attraction the country was infamous for.

As she waited in customs, an older Thai man approached her and wai’d, then began speaking to her in the native tongue, mistaking her for a local due to her features. She smiled but shrugged, and he switched to English, embarrassed, apologizing profusely. That boded well for her ability to blend in, and she hoped it would make her relatively invisible in the bustling city.

Once through immigration she collected her sparse luggage and set out for the taxi stand, where again, the attendant rattled off a question in Thai, and then, realizing his error, he switched to English before blowing on a shrill whistle and waving a car forward.

The driver placed her suitcase into the trunk and waited expectantly for direction. She told him to take her to the Dynasty Hotel, located a few hundred yards from the entrance of the Nana Plaza — one of the five major sex tourism destinations in Bangkok — and near the site of Lap Pu’s main brothel. He nodded and opened her door for her, then rounded the car and jumped into the driver’s seat.

Driving in Bangkok was more of a suicidal rite of passage than mere transportation. She was convinced they were going to collide with motorcycles, bicycles and other cars at least a dozen times every few blocks, and by the time they reached the hotel, she’d concluded that the locals had a death wish.

Jet checked in, noting the predominantly Caucasian male clientele, many accompanied by young Thai females. She was pleased to find that her room was nicely appointed — and quiet. Her travel had taken over twenty-six hours between getting to Los Angeles, the layover and then the Thailand flight, and because of the turbulence, she hadn’t gotten much rest. She turned down the bed, unpacked her suitcase and locked her valuables in the safe, and then set out the Do Not Disturb card on her doorknob.

The Bangkok skyline was breathtakingly beautiful, with skyscrapers beaming out every color of the rainbow. The recent rain had scrubbed the city clean, for a time, and it was as radiant a jewel as any she’d seen. She took in the display from her window for a few minutes as she sipped a bottle of mineral water, and then pulled the curtains closed, ready for some serious sleep. Tomorrow would be a big day. She was supposed to touch base with Arthur in the morning and arrange a meeting with the CIA operative who ran the Bangkok station. Hopefully, he’d been productive over the last twenty-four hours while she’d been in the air.

Jet had agreed to meet Edgar, the CIA’s point man, at one o’clock at Benjakiti Park, a half mile south of her hotel. When she arrived, she spent five minutes reconnoitering the rendezvous spot before moving to a cluster of trees on the edge of the expansive pond, where a group of children were playing under the watchful gazes of their mothers. She was there an hour early, wearing sunglasses and a forest green baseball cap she’d bought from a sidewalk vendor.

Dressed in jeans and mauve blouse, she blended in easily with the office workers eating lunch on the grass — she could have been a low-level clerk or a shopkeeper on her break. The rental boat pier that was the meeting place teemed with tourists, milling about and taking photographs of each other with the impressive edifices of the