JET II - Betrayal (JET #2) (25 page)

BOOK: JET II - Betrayal (JET #2)
2.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I found a taker for two million’ worth. He’ll make a transfer to one of my companies. I’ll get a card when I’m at the bank tomorrow and give it to you. That will be your mad money.”

She padded to the room safe, then brought the leather bag to the table.

“How will you know how many are two million dollars’ worth?”

“I’ll guesstimate. I’ve gotten pretty good at this over the years.”

He dumped out a small pile and quickly sorted a little less than half the stones, then pulled out a plastic bag from his pocket and scooped them in. He returned the rest to the leather sack and handed it to her.

“Call that your emergency fund. After I do this deal tomorrow morning, I’ll head to the bank. It’s a different one than where I keep the stones. Don’t want all my eggs in one basket.”

“It seems sort of crazy to have millions in diamonds lying around a hotel room, doesn’t it?”

“There would be far more risk if we asked the management to lock them in the hotel safe. Besides, if anyone can get past you, I’d say they earned them.”

She smiled, then returned to the safe and locked the diamonds away. “What are we going to do about the ten million in diamonds? That’s not exactly low profile, and I’ll need to get to Europe…”

“I struck a deal with a guy who knows a guy. By the end of the day tomorrow, you’ll have a shiny new passport. Legitimate. A diplomatic passport, to boot. Only three hundred grand.”

“Three hun–”

“I’m not price sensitive. With a diplomatic passport, you won’t have to answer a lot of niggling questions at customs, so whether you have ten million or a hundred million in stones with you, you’ll glide right through. You’ll need to get a photo taken tonight, which won’t be a problem. There are a million shops open, even at ten p.m.. Bangkok is a night city. You want to go take a walk?” he asked.

“Sure. Let me get my gun.”

She had bought a purse large enough to accommodate the Beretta with the silencer as well as other odds and ends. She shouldered it and turned to Matt, who was pulling on a baseball cap.

“Lead on.”

She was still getting used to the casual way that he tossed around figures like a million dollars, and it struck her how completely arbitrary money was. He had a virtually bottomless well of cash, so all the typical financial constraints were meaningless to them.

“How many millions do you have left?”

“About two hundred million,” he said nonchalantly.

“You haven’t spent any of it?”

“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.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The guards looked up from their card table, startled by a rattle at the back of the club. Probably a cat trying to get to the garbage. The younger of the two made a lewd comment, and both men laughed, and then the rattle disrupted their game again.

“Go look to see what’s happening, Alak. Could be trouble,” the older man ordered. The younger threw down his cards with an exasperated exhalation of smoke. “When have we ever had trouble? Come on. Nobody would dare look crooked at this place with the old man’s reputation. You’re just trying to cheat me out of another hundred baht. I’m onto you.”

“Nobody forces you to play. Now go see what that’s all about while I take a leak.”

Both men rose, the younger taking the lead as they strode down the long hall at the back of the club to the restrooms and entertainment suites.

The older man entered the bathroom and hit the light switch. The overhead fluorescent bulb sputtered to reluctant life. He was unzipping his fly with a sigh of relief when he heard a muffled thud from outside.

“Alak? What the hell are you doing?”

There was no response.

Torn by the pressure on his bladder and his duty, he called for his partner again.

“Alak. Don’t screw around. What’s going on out there?”

He was growing annoyed when the light flickered off.

He hastily drew his weapon as he neared the door in the complete darkness, feeling along with the toes of his shoes until his gun barrel knocked into the wall. He swore silently and took a deep breath, then pulled the door open.

The hall was equally dark, the only light a sliver of dim illumination from the rear alley exit. He peered along the corridor and could barely make out an inert form on the floor. His startled recognition of the younger man’s corpse was accompanied by a whistling as the razor-sharp sword blade swung at his neck, neatly decapitating him before he could raise his pistol. An expression of puzzled surprise froze on his face for eternity as his head tumbled to the floor and then rolled halfway down the hall while his torso collapsed lifelessly at Jet’s feet, blood still pumping from the neatly severed stump of his neck.

The air was heavy with the gamey scent of blood as she leaned down and wiped the sword on the guard’s suit before returning it to the scabbard strapped across her back. A creak sounded from above, and she spun, returning to the stairs.

Jet waited, willing her breath to a near stop, listening, senses tingling from adrenaline. Another creak and then shuffling footsteps above.

The barrel of the
mama-san
’s gun preceded her as she descended the stairs. Jet waited until she was standing in the hall before leveling a brutal strike at her wrist, forcing her to drop the weapon and grip her arm in agony. The woman looked up at her through tears of pain, and then her features twisted with hate as Jet pulled off her mask and spoke.

“So, you bitch, how does it feel when you’re on the receiving end of the hurt?”

“You dead when Pu find out about this,” she spat in broken English.

“Pu’s dead. I danced in his blood. He cried like an old woman when I killed him.”

The
mama-san
screamed in rage and threw herself at Jet, who easily parried her frenzied attempts to claw at her face, then grabbed the woman’s head and gave it a brutal twist. Her spine snapped with an audible pop, and she sank to the concrete floor, her life seeping from her lips with a gurgle.

“Rot in hell,” Jet muttered and then, gazing around, stepped over the woman and opened the breaker panel before flipping the master back on. She made short work of dragging the bodies into the nearest room, trying to minimize the gore in the hall, then paused, listening, before moving to the stairs.

The club was silent, except for her footsteps as she ascended the steps and approached the locked door.

The bolt sliding open sounded like a rifle shot. She pulled the door towards her and edged forward, feeling for the light switch as she heard the rustling of bodies on the floor.

Other books

The Harvest Cycle by David Dunwoody
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
Traveling Soul by Todd Mayfield
Owning Jacob - SA by Simon Beckett
Winter Serpent by Davis, Maggie;
Margaret the First by Danielle Dutton
Christmas for Ransom by Tanya Hanson