Betrayal

“On what? I had Pu liquidate a few hundred grands’ worth each time he came out to see me, but that wasn’t a lot. I had to buy guns and ammo, and pay everyone for protection — but even so, it didn’t come to a hundred grand. The truth is, I don’t have anything to spend money on out in the jungle other than weapons and slipping cash to the nearby drug lords to leave me in peace. So technically, I suppose the correct answer is a hundred ninety-nine million and change. But deduct the five million worth I had around my neck, and we can call it a hundred ninety- four.”

“That’s just such a huge amount of money.”

“It is. But it’s blood money. Not that I have a problem with that. But I didn’t do this to get rich. I did it to shut these pricks down.”

“So even if we have to do plan B, you’ll still have…”

“…a lot of diamonds,” Matt finished for her.

They exited the hotel and walked slowly down the sidewalk towards the blinking neon forest a few blocks away, where every kind of shop clamored for customers with thousand-watt signs.

“It’s quite a spectacle, isn’t it?”

“Have you ever been to Tokyo?” he asked.

“No. It’s one of the places I’ve meant to go. Just never was a right time.”

“You’ve never seen anything like it. Blinding. It’s like nothing else on the planet.”

They rounded the corner and found themselves facing a seemingly endless pedestrian thoroughfare lined with shops and bars. Groups of young Thai men roamed in packs, eyeing the giggling swarms of teenage girls while the inevitable bar girls called to passersby, inviting them to come in and sample their charms.

“Not getting too personal, I hope, but what are you going to do once all this is over?” she asked. “I mean, once you’re no longer in danger.”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I like Thailand. I’ve been here too long to feel comfortable anywhere else, I suppose. For all its idiosyncrasies and frustrations, it’s home for me. I don’t know. If I had my choice, I suppose I’d go to one of the islands and live on the beach. But there’s no point torturing myself with dreams of tomorrow. It just makes it harder to be happy today.”

“Very existentialistic.”

“It’s the Buddhist thing rubbing off on me. You stay here long enough and eventually everything seems illusory.”

“Why one of the islands?”

“Different pace. You still get the civilization feel if you want it, but it’s much more laid-back. None of the bustle of the big city. Places like Ko Samui are magical. I gather you’ve never been.”

“No. But I liked living in Trinidad. Islands can be nice. Nice and boring.”

He laughed, genuine merriment evident in his eyes. “I suppose you’ve had enough excitement to last a lifetime.”

“You could say that.”

“There are worse places to disappear forever. You should check out Ko Samui. You’d love it. Breathtakingly beautiful, well-developed, yet still rural enough to have appeal. Time slows when you’re there. It’s almost as if it’s enchanted.”

“You work for their tourism bureau? You make it sound like heaven.”

“For me, it’s the closest thing going.”

He pointed to a photo shop, and they went inside. The old mama-san was all efficiency, and they had their photos within ten minutes.

“You’re also getting diplomatic?” she asked.

“Why not? Such a deal. Two for five hundred. Couldn’t let that slip by me.”

“That should make it easier to move around, don’t you think?”

“Not really. I have about ten passports from my old life stored in with the diamonds. But diplomatic immunity has a lot of appeal, and when it’s safe to go back in the water, I’ll probably use that for the long term.”

They strolled along, no particular destination in mind, surrendering themselves to Bangkok’s nocturnal ambiance.

“You think you’ll be done with everything that needs to happen by the end of the day tomorrow?” she asked.

“I hope so. I don’t want to spend one more second in Bangkok than I need to. I’m not exactly a household name here, but the longer I’m in town, the greater the chance that someone from my past spots me.”

“Then isn’t it a bad idea to be strolling along here?”

“I’m pretty sure that with the dye job and the shave and the cap my own mother would have a hard time recognizing me. Tonight isn’t my worry. It’s the banks.” He looked at his watch. “Which means it’s probably a good idea to get back to our lavish digs. It’s going to be a marathon tomorrow.”

“I’ll say. More for you than for me, but still, I need to catch up on sleep after the last week.”

They looped around and ambled back to the hotel, taking their time: a couple out on a stroll, taking in the sights of Bangkok at night, not a care in the world.

Chapter 29

The Top Cat had closed at three a.m., and by four, the only ones left after the cleaning crew had departed were the mama-san and the two guards employed to keep intruders out. Most of the girls lived elsewhere, but the children stayed in the club with the mama-san, who had a small apartment on the second floor. The guards were armed with pistols, which they kept concealed in shoulder holsters — a constant for most of the clubs, due to their organized crime affiliations and the large amounts of cash they took in on any given evening, usually stored overnight in floor safes.

The surrounding streets were dark, and the crowds had gone home, the weeknight’s diversions abandoned in favor of a few scant hours of rest before the work day began. An occasional tuk tuk or motor scooter buzzed down the street as a tan-colored mongrel with protruding ribs nosed through the piles of trash stacked on the sidewalk.

Jet watched the area for another ten minutes and then pulled the mask down over her face. She wore black, loose-fitting lightweight parachute fabric cargo pants and a matching top she’d bought that morning. Her backpack was strapped snugly in place, and she adjusted it one final time before darting to the alley mouth in a blur of motion.

Her left foot bounced against the building’s wall and propelled her upwards using the momentum of the run. Both hands gripped the rim of the flat roof, and she pulled herself up and over, then moved to where the security camera was fixed and cut the cable with a flick of her knife. The mama-san’s apartment lay at the back of the building, creating a small second floor. She edged silently to its security-barred window. Listening intently, she confirmed that the woman was asleep, then padded to the ventilation ducts and went to work.

The interior of the club was dark except for a single light at the front, where the two guards sat playing cards. Jet heard one of them cough and fan the smoke curling from his partner’s cigarette away before resuming his play. She lowered the overhead vent grid and dropped to the ground, her black Nike cross-training shoes making no noise on the polished concrete floor. The men didn’t look up. If they had, they would have seen her creep to the rear hallway and disappear up the stairs to the mama-san’s room and the sleeping area for the children.

At the top of the stairs, she was confronted with two doors — one of which had a sliding bolt locked in place from the outside. That would be the children. She took three silent steps towards the other door, and her gloved hand softly turned the knob, wary of making any sound.

Light from outside filtered through the sheer curtains that framed the window, and Jet could just make out the mama-san’s sleeping form. Her eyes roved over the squalid quarters, stopping when they fell on a pair of ceremonial swords in scabbards affixed to a plaque on the far wall.