Bangkok Burn (32 page)

Across the street a pack of soi dogs stood looking at the car. Noses in the air, they could smell, but not see us. One of the pack got too close to the leader. The leader turned, snapping at the encroacher’s neck. The bitten stray took off up the soi, yelping, tail between its legs. The rest of the pack chased it. The leader turned back to us with his nose in the air. A group of teenagers crossed the front of the soi, laughing and pushing each other. The dog’s head turned towards the sound and then he trotted over to our car. He stopped by the front wheel passenger side and cocked his leg. This was his soi. Point made he trotted off into the shadows

Five minutes left. Chai touched a button on his comms pack.

“Get ready. Five minutes. Five minutes,” he repeated. We had Beckham and Tum parked further down the road. If our plan went wrong, back up was a hundred meters away.

“Go. Take the route I showed you and no faster than twenty,” Chai said.

He pressed the button on his arm rest, winding down his window. The black eighty-percent film he had taped in place, looked like a window. Once we reached the main road, we ducked down. Mini cameras taped in the rear window gave us a view of either side of the car.

Daeng turned right on the main road and drove at a steady pace. The car slowed as we approached the entrance to Big Tiger’s soi. Deang opened the window on his side and his sister's. We approached the barrier, a red striped metal pole across the soi, and a guard’s hut with a window, the guard rubbing his eyes, yawning.

“Open the fucking gate. Tiger’s expecting me.” I heard Daeng say. The car moved forward, tires crunching on soft gravel. I checked my weapon again. I’d chosen an HK UMP 5 .45 ACP with a Gemtech suppressor. Twenty-five rounds per magazine. I had it set on full auto, stock folded. I didn’t want a war but if one started I wanted to be dressed properly.

The front gate of Tiger’s house appeared, a huge Tiger face emblem set in its middle of its bars. Daeng drove close to the wall and pressed a button on the intercom, arm out of the window.

“Who is it?” Tiger’s voice.

“Daeng, I’m with Pheung.”

The gates started to open, rolling back. Big Tiger’s house was set back from the soi by about fifty meters. I could see in the right side monitor a circular driveway enclosing a garden with a large fountain and pond in the middle. We went left. I watched the left monitor as the front door to Tiger’s house slid into view. We drove past a little more and stopped. Safe from being seen, I sat up and clicked my weapon off safety. Daeng had parked at a good angle to the front door. Chai brought his milspec M26 Tazer to bear, aiming through the film.

The door opened. Big Tiger looked out and peered around cautiously. Then he stepped out wearing nothing but a
pakama
and a gun. He moved quickly for a fat guy. Chai lined up but Tiger had walked too fast, moving behind the car. Daeng opened his door and started to get out. Tiger’s gun started to come up. Shit! He was going for it right here. Chai moved. Flinging the car door open, he got out and turned. I opened my door, gun ready to fire. Tiger’s face shocked as he recognized me. His gun swung towards me and then the twin electrode darts of Chai’s Tazer hit him in the chest. Tiger’s legs fell out from underneath him, the gun bouncing on the red bricks of the driveway. Tiger’s body twitched and a pool of piss spread out from underneath him.

“Pop the trunk,” Chai ordered Daeng. I took up a position near the fountain watching the gate and the front windows of the house. Nothing moved. I could hear dogs barking out on the road. Probably the same pack we’d seen in the soi. A frog croaked in the pond. Daeng and Chai lifted Tiger and rolled him into the trunk of Daeng’s car.

“Chai, find Tiger’s phone,” I whispered into my microphone.

Chai nodded and went into Tiger’s house. I dialed Tiger’s phone to make Chai’s job easier. While Chai was looking for the phone, I collected Tiger’s gun from where it had fallen beneath the car. Chai reappeared, nodded at me and we got back in the car. With Pheung lying on the floor at our feet, Chai and I crouched low on the back seat. I checked the time. Less than three minutes. We went back up the soi, Daeng flicking his beam lamps at the guard. I watched as the guard shielding his eyes from the bright lights lifted the barrier up. Nice touch Daeng. We turned right onto Sukhumvit Road. I sat up and gave Chai a grin. I like it when a plan comes together.

The white BMTA van we’d been using was parked on our the side of road, two kilometers further up. Chai told Daeng to pull over in front of it. We got out. Daeng and Pheung got out. They looked scared and nervous. Chai handed them each an envelope. I walked over to them and indicated towards the van.

“Beckham and Tum will take you to a hotel, then to the airport in the morning. You’ve got a new life in those envelopes, new names, new place, money to spend. Don’t come back.”

They nodded and waied me. I watched them get in the van. Tum pulled out. They’d spend the night at a short time motel near the airport. In the morning Tum would take them to the airport. Chai had argued for death. It was the right thing to do but I wanted to give them a chance. Whatever their faults, they’d played their parts well. It was a risk, but one I was willing to accept.

We got back in the BMW and turned left into Bang Pu Industrial Estate. We had a warehouse here, one we seldom used. Deep in the heart of the estate, the corrugated iron building behind a chain link fence looked run down. Weeds grew in the cracks of the cement driveway and unloading area. Chai dragged the wide door open. I drove in and popped the trunk. Chai closed the door behind us.

Together we heaved his body out of the trunk and dragged him over to the gantry hoists. Chai tied Big Tiger’s hands over his head and his feet together at the ankles. He made a loop each end and connected the loops to the hoist hooks. Green button up, red button down. Tiger moaned, he was coming around. Chai pressed the green buttons on both control boxes. Tiger rose from the floor, the ropes around his wrists and ankles biting hard into his flesh. Chai stopped before Tiger was fully stretched out, face up, his body horizontal about waist height.

Tiger puked. Messy. Then he wet himself. Messier. I hoped we were done with the bodily functions. Lucky we hadn’t duct taped his mouth. He didn’t look too comfortable hanging there. I stared down at him. Eyes rolling and blinking rapidly, puke and drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Tiger, do you know who this is?”

“Oh fuck.” His voice had lost its power. He sounded like he looked, naked.

“I want to know about the kidnapping and Leon. I want you to tell me everything. If I believe you, I will let you live. Now talk or… ”

“Fu… fuck off.”

I nodded at Chai. He pressed both green buttons. The gantry motors whirred and the cables tightened. Tiger straightened out a bit more. His eyes darted from side to side as he thrashed himself about. Reminded me of when we capture a crocodile by the mouth and tail. He had risen to chest height. I walked behind Tiger’s sagging head and nodded for Chai to stop.

The echo of the motors died, the only sound was Tiger’s panting. Tiger looked up into my eyes.

“This is a bad way to die, Tiger. Just tell me what happened. We’re not far from your home. You could be back there in five minutes. But this is it. This is your last chance to talk. I’m tired and I want to get some sleep. So if you don’t talk now I’m going have Chai duct tape your mouth shut and then he’s going to tighten the cables until either or arms or your legs pull off. At which stage you’ll either get a nasty bump on the head or you’ll be legless. You might die of shock at that point or you’ll bleed to death. Either way, it shouldn’t take more than five minutes. Your call.” I looked him in the eyes letting him know I had no problem doing exactly what I’d just said I’d do.

“I’ll talk.”

I thought he might. I thought of Lilly, and a part of me wished he’d been ‘old school’.

Bungalow # Thirteen

25 May 2010 Seat 14A PG103 6:55am

A flight attendant’s voice woke me up
. “… and gentlemen, the captain has turned the seatbelt sign on. We will be landing in Koh Samui shortly. Please make sure your window shade is up, the tray locked securely to the seat in front of you and your seat is in the upright position. Thank you for flying Bangkok Airways and we wish you a pleasant trip.” I eased my seat into the upright position and pushed the window shade up. We’d just made the six am flight. I’d fallen asleep before we took off.

Tiger had been recycled. By now he’d be in several of the twenty baht bags of ‘Croc O’ Licious’ that we sold to the tourists. So far there’d been no unusual activity reported from his turf. He’d talked. Told us everything we needed to know and a bit more besides. Then I shot him in the head.

Leon was the son of the man who had killed my parents. Only he never knew that part. He was born after his father died. He only knew that his father had come to Phuket on a yacht from Singapore and had never returned. Forty years later, by accident, he learned about Uncle Mike, Por and Joom. It was Big Tiger who had told him about me.

Big Tiger wanted a Farang to be the one on the call. In exchange for twenty percent, Tiger offered me up. Part of the deal, and the reason I hadn’t been killed, was Leon wanted me alive so he could burn me to death. Brett and Sheena were Leon and Ursula. Ursula’s sister, Natasha, actually in Moscow not Odessa, was the honey to sucker Uncle Mike. Leon and Ursula had been at Big Tiger’s resort since the time I had dinner with them. Big Tiger complained about the bill they were running up, waiting for a second chance at me.

The plane came in over Chaweng Beach and touched down, taxiing back to the terminal. In business class, we got off first and walked through the open air terminal. It was hot and humid but the air had that sea smell that lets you know you’re near a beach. Backpackers, families with kids, the usual mix of tourists, everyone looking happy and relaxed. We didn’t even try to blend in.

At the exit from the airport, a stocky guy wearing camouflage trousers and a black t-shirt handed Chai the keys to a black Range Rover parked curbside. Chai clipped the GPS unit to the dashboard and started the engine. The route to Big Tiger’s resort at Thong Krut beach already entered, we waited for the GPS to lock on and sync. Bright blue sky, not a cloud in it - hell of a day to die.

It was twenty-three kilometers to Big Tiger’s resort and we wanted to be there before eight. Seven am now, we had to motor. Chai put his foot down. I reached around and took the bag off the back seat. I unrolled the beach towel. A Walther PPK/S .38 caliber, a suppressor and a magazine. I checked and loaded the weapon. The other beach towel had a Sig Sauer .38 and the same accessories. I checked and loaded it as well. I handed the Sig, safety on, to Chai. A glance over the other materials on the backseat confirmed that Chai’s contact had been reliable.

We stayed on the 4169, running down the east coast of Samui. People were out on the beach already, the ocean flat calm, aquamarine blue ready for a holiday snap. The going was slower than we liked. We got caught behind a truck carrying sugar-cane crawling up a hill. Once over the hill Chai got past him and we made better progress. Past Lamai beach, we came through Maret and turned off onto the 4170. The road had less traffic on it and we made better time.

We turned off the main road. Driving down a small dirt track, jungle either side of the road. Chai turned off the track and went into the resort car park. The Tiger resort was on the eastern side of Thong Krut beach. The resorts villas ran back from the beach in two parallel lines, a restaurant, swimming pool and bar in the middle between the bungalows. Chai parked nearest the entrance, under the shade of coconut trees. He looked up to check that the coconuts were young. They make a hell of a dent if they fall off and land on your car.

Chai collected the supplies off the back seat. I hung the beach towel around my neck to hide the butt of the gun. Leon and Ursula were in room thirteen. We walked into the resort. The path threaded through thick bamboo and jungle. We passed an old couple with smiles and good mornings, Germans, by the sound of their accents. Outside room thirteen as requested, a large laundry basket. The path was quiet. I looked in the basket for the spare key to room thirteen. We’d had Tiger call the resort manager and order him to put the key in laundry basket outside the door to thirteen. I found the key under a sheet. Chai put the supplies in the basket and we went up on the porch.

A nod at Chai and we pulled masks over our faces. I slipped the key into the lock. Holding the door handle, I slowly turned the key, until I heard the latch snick. I pushed the door slowly inwards. A small, short hallway, a double bed and a door to the bathroom. The bathroom door was shut. I could hear water running. Leon was sleeping on the bed. Ursula must be in the shower. Good, if we could do this without having to sedate her, so much the better. Leon was lying on his side. Legs curled up, hand on the pillow beside him.