shaft at him, this one piercing his heart.
But the damage had been done. The scream had alerted the other fighters. After a brief pause, two more came barreling through the door, and the tarp on the building next to it flew aside, and a rifle barrel poked out. Instantly weighing her options, she retreated, gliding into the shadows at the jungle’s edge. The smudge of the fire provided dim illumination, but it was a scant flicker within the heart of the downpour and not enough to give her away.
Jet watched as four remaining guards moved out of the buildings in a huddle that bristled with gun barrels. She notched another arrow. They were really making it almost too easy.
By the time any of the men could react, two were dead or dying. The remaining two fired blindly in a panic, desperately sweeping the jungle around them with their weapons, but Jet was already on the move and was sliding behind their huts even as they emptied their guns in vain.
The smaller of the pair realized his mistake as his weapon clicked empty — in their haste to take on their attackers they hadn’t thought to bring spare clips.
When an arrow severed his spinal cord, he tumbled into the second man, whose life, in turn, was extinguished by the shaft’s companion two seconds later.
A figure tore out of the doorway of one of the remaining buildings, running as hard as he could for the stream. Jet followed his progress, with the softness of the arrow’s flight next to her cheek, and then, adjusting for his speed and the distance, released the bowstring with a twang.
She watched as the man dropped, having almost made it to the jungle’s edge.
Jet waited, ears alert for any threats, but heard nothing. She could make out the outlines of the buildings as clear as day through the goggles and saw no one.
Then the tarp of a hut drew open, and Hawker stepped out, hands in the air.
“I’m unarmed,” he called in English, and then in Thai.
She studied him, waiting for any trick.
He took another step forward, rain streaming down his face. “I repeat. I’m unarmed.”
Jet scanned the surrounding structures warily but saw nothing. With a fluid motion, she dropped the bow and shrugged the quiver off, placing it and the P90 on the ground beside her, then un-holstered the silenced Beretta and moved to the first building, ignoring Hawker for the moment. She peered through the back window and confirmed that it was empty, then repeated the process on the next two.
“Move towards the fire,” she called and saw the surprise play across his face upon hearing her voice. It never ceased to amaze her how many men believed that their violent world was only inhabited by males.
He took cautious, plodding steps, his bare feet squishing on the muddy ground, before stopping ten feet from the subdued flames.
Hawker studied Thet’s corpse with interest. “Arrows? You used arrows?”
Jet could have sworn she saw the beginnings of a smile. Just a trace, fleeting, then gone.
She moved towards him, gun trained on his head, and watched as he registered her on the periphery of his vision.
“Keep your hands above your head.”
“I will.”
She reached to the small of her back and withdrew a pair of black anodized handcuffs, then tossed them at his feet, her pistol unwavering.
“Put those on.”
“Hands in front or behind?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? Behind. Turn so I can see you putting them on. Don’t try anything or I’ll blow a kneecap off, and then it’s going to be really painful for you to ride out of here.”
“Is that what you’re thinking we’ll do? Ride out of here? That’ll be kind of hard with no horses, won’t it?”
“The cuffs,” she said.
“Okay. Here we go.”
“Nice and slow.”
“The only way I know.” He lowered his arms, knelt to scoop up the cuffs, and stood, holding them out so she could see them.
“Night vision. Of course. Should have known,” he muttered to himself, then slid a cuff open and secured it around his wrist.
“Now the other one.”
“I hope I get points for courtesy and cooperation.” He locked the cuff in place, then waggled his fingers. “There. I’m no longer a menace to society.”
She inched closer to him. “Now turn around.”
He complied, peering through the gloom at her. “Holy shit. Is it just you? You did all this?”
“How many did you think it would take?”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable. You want a job?”
“Very funny. Now we’re going to head over to the horses. Think you can manage that?”
“Sure. But why? Am I going to give them a eulogy?”
She looked past him to the creek. Both animals were down. The wild shots from the two frantic guards had hit them.
“Damn. Looks like we’re walking out, then.”
His eyes moved, and he looked over her shoulder, past her. She didn’t fall for it.
“Don’t bother. That’s the oldest trick in the world,” she said, her gun pointing steadily at him.
“I think you should reconsider your perspective of old dogs and their tricks,” he said, and this time he did smile.
“Not a chance. Now before we go any further, where are the diamonds?”
“You think I’d have them in a hut in the middle of nowhere?”
“Where are they?”
“Well, two of them are right behind you,” he said.
“I told you. Stop screwing around, wasting my time. It won’t work.”
“Oh, I think this time it will. Don’t you, Matt?” Lap Pu’s voice purred softly from behind her.
Chapter 24
“Drop the gun. Now,” Pu ordered.
Jet did as he instructed.
“Now turn around.”
Pu was holding a small pistol — it looked like a Walther PPK.
“Take the night vision off.”
She slowly reached up, flipped the goggles out of her field of vision, then lifted them off her head.
Pu’s eyes widened. “Well, well. If it isn’t a pretty face from my past.”
“What the hell’s going on here, Pu?” Matt demanded.
His eyes swiveled to Matt. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Where are the diamonds?” Jet repeated, her tone even.
“Why, my dear, around his neck, of course,” Pu said. She looked over her shoulder to where Matt stood and saw a small leather pouch dangling from a leather lash circling his neck. “At least some of them are. Isn’t that right, Matt?”
“Pu, cut the shit. Get the key from her and un-cuff me. You. Whatever your name is. Give me the key,” Matt said.
“Ah, not so fast,” Pu warned.
“Pu. What the hell are you doing?” Matt asked, his voice somewhat diminished.
“Thinking. I was wondering how much I see helping you sell them, versus what’s around your neck. That’s all.” Pu’s English seemed to improve markedly as his greedy eyes considered the predicament.
