Emerald Buddha (Drake Ramsey Book 2)

by Russell Blake

  “What do you think happened to Christine?” Spencer asked.

  “She probably bolted once we’d gone to sleep,” Drake said. “If she’s even halfway correct about the Chinese and the DOD, can’t say as I blame her. I mean, they blew up her frigging plane, for starters. Would you stick around to see what their next trick is?”

  “With no money or passport, it’s going to be tough to hide for long,” Spencer observed.

  “Thailand’s a big place, and she might have access to resources we don’t know about.”

  Allie smiled knowingly at Drake and returned to her perusal of the images. Spencer caught the look.

  “Did you give her money?” he asked quietly.

  “Do I have to explain what I do with my cash?” Allie fired back, continuing to eye the camera.

  “I’d have thought you didn’t have any, after being taken captive.”

  “How do you think we’re paying for the hotel? I called my attorney when we were with Joe to transfer the fee to him, and had him send a few extra bucks here,” Allie said. “Western Union to the rescue. They were open while you boys were out on the town.”

  “So you did give her money?”

  Allie smiled sweetly at Spencer. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I guess a lady always has her secrets,” Drake agreed.

  “It does make you wonder what the incriminating evidence was, though,” Spencer said.

  “Not my problem,” Drake said, pointing to his cup for more tea. The server nodded and hurried to refill it.

  “Speaking of problems, with nothing in the temple, I’m still kind of hosed,” Spencer grumbled.

  “Funny you should mention that. Drake, look at this picture. Specifically, check out the angle of the back wall.” Allie handed Drake the camera. He studied the photo and shrugged.

  “It’s a cave. Carvings. What am I missing?”

  “We rushed out of there, or I’m sure I would have spotted it in person.”

  “Spotted what?” Spencer asked.

  “Look at the geometry of the back wall. Specifically where it meets the ceiling,” Allie said.

  Drake offered the camera to Spencer and they both peered at it. Spencer saw it first. “It’s a right angle. Ninety degrees.”

  “And how often does that happen in nature? Specifically, in the tops of caves?”

  Drake nodded slowly. “Would the correct answer be ‘never’?”

  Allie smiled. “Right. That’s a man-made wall that was crafted to look like a natural surface.”

  “A false wall,” Spencer said.

  “That would be my hunch.”

  “Then there might be a treasure after all…” Spencer murmured.

  “Only one way to know for sure,” Drake said.

  Spencer’s hand moved to his shoulder. “Can’t we just take a helicopter or something?”

  “That didn’t go so well last time, did it?” Allie said.

  “When do you want to go?” Drake asked.

  “It’s really up to Spencer. He’s the one with the boo-boo.”

  “It’s a mere scratch,” Spencer said. “Let’s get some supplies and head out – at least we won’t have to worry about the Red Moon crew anymore.”

  “Why don’t we hit Joe’s village first and see if his second-in-command wants to be our guide? It might help to have someone on friendly terms with the Shans. Before, we had Joe. But now… Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to wind up being taken hostage again,” Allie suggested.

  “Kind of out of the way,” Spencer said.

  “Not if we wind up running afoul of a Shan patrol,” Allie said. “We made a deal with their colonel, and he might interpret it as reneging if we’re nosing around the area without his blessing. You really want to risk it?”

  “Put like that, you make a compelling argument,” Drake agreed.

  “Then let’s assemble whatever we need and do this right.”

  “The lady has spoken,” Spencer said, tossing a few baht onto the table and rising. “Time to go shopping. How much did you have your attorney send you, anyway?”

  Allie smiled again. “Enough.”

  The day went by quickly as they bought rugged backpacks and filled them with camping gear, a first aid kit, pry bars, a pick, camp shovels, and insect repellent. At the largest electronics store in town they bought a portable GPS and a satellite phone, and after topping up with prepackaged meals, they made their way back to the hotel.

  Drake’s burner cell rang as they neared the office. When he answered it, Collins’ voice sounded furious.

  “What the hell do you think you’re pulling, Ramsey?”

  “Mom? Is that you?”

  “You think this is some kind of game?”

  “Oh, Collins, nice to hear from you. Might have been nicer if you’d shown up with SEAL Team Six to help me rescue my friends, but I can understand if you were busy…”

  “Where is she, Ramsey? Stop screwing around.”

  “As I told your charming representative this morning, I have no idea.”

  “We left her in your care.”

  “No, I rescued her from certain death, and she willingly came with me. We checked into a hotel, and she apparently decided she wanted to leave. I’m not a junior G-man, Collins. I found her, brought her to safety, and she took off. How am I involved anymore?”

  “I can have you arrested for aiding a fugitive.”

  “A fugitive? Is she really? What’s she done?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  “Wait – you threaten to arrest me for helping a fugitive, but you can’t tell me why she’s a fugitive? Good luck with that. Want my lawyer’s number? He could probably use a good laugh.”

  “You’re messing with the wrong people, Ramsey.”

  “Collins, you suckered me into helping you. I did what you sent me to do, and my friends and I almost died in the process. You’ve obviously kept information from me, and now you’re threatening me. Why are we still talking?”

  “I need to know where she went.”

  “I have no idea. I was asleep. She could have gone anywhere.”

  “Not without help.”

  Drake sighed. “Is there anything else?”

  Collins’ voice turned coldly menacing. “I won’t forget this, Ramsey. I can make things difficult for you. Remember that.”

  “Sure. And next time you want some help, I’ll remember the charming thanks I got for a job well done. I’d say we’re about even.”

  “You little bas–”

  Drake punched the off button and tossed the phone in the trash. Allie raised a questioning eyebrow, and he grinned. “Wrong number.”

  Spencer edged closer. “You might want to temper the go-screw-yourself with them, Drake. You don’t want the CIA as your enemy.”

  “Right. Because having them as my buds has done so much for my well-being.” He looked at Spencer’s arm. “Think of that bullet you took as a greeting card from them.”

  “I’m just saying. If you have a choice, keep them on your good side.”

  “He threatened to have me arrested for aiding a fugitive.”

  “He what?” Allie gasped.

  “I told him to pound sand. The call didn’t go so well from there.”

  “But Christine isn’t a fugitive…is she?” Allie asked.

  “Not that he could articulate. I asked him what the charge was, and he deflected. I’d say it’s BS. He’s just trying to scare me. But after being shot at, crashing in a helicopter, and being in combat for a few days, I guess you could say I’m all out of scared.” Drake’s tone softened. “Let’s head to the border and see about getting a boat first thing in the morning. We’ll need to take the backdoor route, since we don’t have passports.”

  “Damn. That’s right.” Allie shrugged. “I guess we’ve been okay without them so far…”

  “We can get new ones from the embassy when we return to Bangkok, but Drake’s right as far as keeping a l
ow profile goes,” Spencer said. “And I think we’ve figured out that we’ll need weapons if we’re going into bad-guy territory again.”

  “Seems like everyone over five years old has at least an AK,” Allie agreed.

  Drake grinned. “And some of the toddlers look pretty shady, too.”

  Chapter 50

  The boat dropped them off as close to the area they recognized from their last trip as it could get, and once in Laos, after a brief consultation with the GPS, Spencer led the way inland. They each carried a Kalashnikov with four extra clips in their packs, and had Browning 9mm pistols in belt holsters – all courtesy of the boat captain’s cousin, who turned out to be one of the top police officials in Chiang Saen. Apparently the market for slightly used fully automatic weapons was thriving, and the cousin had no problem procuring guns for friends of his cousin from his store of confiscated firearms.

  It had rained that morning as they’d made their way north on the Mekong, and they were soaked, the only relief provided by their wide-brim hats. Spencer was managing the trail at a good pace in spite of his shoulder, which he claimed didn’t hurt, but which Drake and Allie could see was causing him grief.

  When they neared the village, a voice called out a warning to them, and after slipping their rifle slings over their shoulders, they stopped and raised their hands. One of the sentries stepped into view and lowered his weapon when he recognized them. He said something in the local dialect and offered a hint of a smile, and then signaled for them to follow him up the slope to the village.

  They marched behind him to where the remains of a fire smoldered in the central pit, the drizzle intermittent as the perennial fog burned off. A few of the gunmen they passed bowed wais in greeting, which they answered with similar gestures.

  They froze when they reached the huts.

  Joe stepped from his dwelling in his orange pants, a camouflage T-shirt topping the ensemble, and grinned. “Whoa. Look who the cat dragged in. I thought I’d seen the last of you.”

  “But…the crash…” Drake sputtered.

  Joe shrugged and made a face. “Takes more than a few bullets to keep me down.”

  “How did you survive?” Drake said.

  “It was pretty hairy. I managed to put the plane down in a clearing. Tore the wings off, but hey. I got out just before it went kabang.” He grinned again. “Positive vibes, dude. Can’t underestimate them. Oh, and the colonel told me you made it out, so all’s well.”

  “You weren’t hurt at all?”

  “Stubbed my toe. Stung like a bitch.” Joe’s gaze moved to Allie. “Funny you should show up. I just made it back this morning. Like kismet or something.” Joe motioned to the log. “Pull up a chair. What can I do for you? You seen the error of your modern ways and decide to go native?” He eyed Allie appreciatively. “Or was the power of our mutual attraction too much? We’re both adults. We don’t need to play games.”

  Allie laughed. “No, we need to go back to the cave.”

  Joe grew serious. “Why?”

  “We think we missed a false wall.”

  “Bummer.” Joe frowned. “That could be a problem.”

  “Why?”

  “Leng told me they’re hearing rumbling about the Myanmar Army making a push into that lower area. I guess all the commotion at the factory got their attention.”

  “But that’s fine! We have permits from the government.”

  “Right. But you have to avoid getting shot in order to show them. You don’t want to be in the middle of a firefight between the Shan and Myanmar Armies.”

  Spencer nodded. “So we can’t talk you into going with us? We were thinking you could smooth the way with your buddy Leng.”

  “He’s still a little touchy that you bugged out without paying him.”

  “That’s why we came back! You can explain we’re honorable, and we wanted to keep our word,” Drake said.

  Joe registered Spencer’s bandaged shoulder. “What happened there?”

  “Cut myself shaving.”

  Joe scowled and glanced around. “Where’s Uncle Pete?”

  Spencer told Joe about being ambushed, and Joe shook his head. “I could tell he wasn’t long for this world. It was his aura. The universe knows.”

  Drake rolled his eyes at Allie. “Right. But back to our little project…”

  Joe got a faraway look in his eyes. “You want to go back into no-man’s land, in the middle of an active military offensive, where there could still be drug traffickers roaming around, after almost being killed…too many times to count?”

  Allie pursed her lips. “Put like that…”

  “Then you’re not interested?” Drake asked.

  Joe slapped his knee and stood. “Hell yeah, I am. When do we leave?”

  “No reason we can’t go right now.”

  “Let me pack some gear. Figure what, a week, tops?”

  “You mentioned you knew other pilots. Anyone with a plane big enough to fly into an area close to the tomb?” Allie asked.

  Joe’s eyes narrowed. “I might – it’ll be expensive.”

  “There’s a shocker,” Drake said.

  Allie glared at him. “In for a dollar…”

  “I’ll need to look at the terrain some. And not to be a buzz kill, but there’s always the chance the Myanmar Army shoots us down. They might think we’re a Shan scouting flight or something.”

  “You think that’s likely?”

  “Not the way I fly!” Joe laughed, his eyes wild. “Let me check out the images. I still have the waypoint on my GPS.”

  “We have a new one with a bigger screen,” Spencer offered.

  “Cool. Hand it over.”

  Five minutes later, Joe grinned like a crazy man. “Let me get on the radio. I know a dude up the way who has a little Piper Comanche we could squeeze into. Looks like there’s a dirt road we could land on that’s only a few hours of hard march from the cave,” he said, and strode back to his hut, mumbling to himself.

  Spencer whistled softly. “He’s completely out of his mind. You do know that, right?”

  “He’s going to help. So maybe having friends that are out of their minds isn’t such a bad thing,” Drake said. “I never held that against you.”

  “Touché. But if what he said is right, we might be better off waiting until the Shans and the Myanmar regulars settle their differences.”

  “We’re here now. We came for the tomb. Let’s get this over with. Besides, I’ve heard that some of us could use a slug of treasure…” Drake said.

  “You had to remind me. As though the bullet wound doesn’t sting enough.”

  Joe reappeared, carrying a different aluminum-framed backpack. “Lost the other one when the plane blew. I’ll add that to your tab. You need another sat phone?”

  “I don’t think we can afford one,” Allie joked, and Drake shook his head.

  “We got one in Thailand.”

  “Okay, then. Plenty of ammo?”

  “Yes.”

  “I talked to my bud. He’s fueling up and should be here in an hour. Probably fifty-fifty that he shows. He’s usually drunk by now.”

  “It’s ten in the morning,” Drake said.

  Joe nodded sagely. “We all have different demons, man.”

  Drake whispered to Allie, “Guess that answers any questions about whether he’s kicked his habits.”

  Allie shrugged. “Whatever he’s on, I want some.”

  Drake took another hard look at Joe. “Let’s just hope it burns off before he gets behind the wheel.”

  “Hasn’t stopped him before.” She gave him a commiserating smile.

  “Did I mention I hate small planes?”

  “So far they’ve been better to you than helicopters.”

  “Good point.”

  Joe led them to the airstrip when the Piper appeared over the hills, and they waited as the single-engine prop plane touched down uncertainly, bounced twice as it struggled to stay on the uneven, muddy runway, and then t
axied toward them. Joe gave the pilot a wave as the plane coasted to a stop, and Spencer snorted in disgust.

  “What?” Allie asked him.

  “The thing’s a piece of garbage,” Spencer griped. “Look at it.”

  “We’re not flying to London,” Drake said.

  “We’ll be lucky if we make it over the river.”

  The door opened, and a thickset man with a full white beard stepped down heavily. As he approached, they got a strong whiff of alcohol. “Joe, you old bandit. Good to see you,” the pilot said.

  “Graham, always a treat. These are my passengers. Is she fueled up?”

  “Might want to top her off.”

  Joe moved to his barrel and pumped as Graham held the nozzle, and soon they were in the plane and ready for takeoff. Graham had agreed to accept payment via wire, on Joe’s word that he’d vouch for his passengers, and they were now ten thousand dollars poorer for the transaction. Drake and Allie squeezed into the rear seat, with Spencer in the copilot position, and they were sweating bullets by the time the aircraft hurtled down the dirt strip. Allie caught the look on Drake’s face and took his hand, and for the first time that day he relaxed, all now right with the world, at least for a fleeting moment.

  Chapter 51

  Washington, D.C.

  General Brad Holt walked in measured steps along the Potomac River, whose jogging path was nearly empty at three in the afternoon. The wind ruffled his jacket as he stopped and looked across the river at where the center of the American government lay. After checking the time, he continued along the stretch until he reached a lone bench, where he sat, watching the breeze dimple the tall grass.

  Colonel Sam Daniels appeared two minutes later from the opposite direction and sat next to him. Neither man spoke for several moments, and then Holt twisted to look at Daniels.

  “We should have sent our team in. This is a disaster,” Holt growled.

  “Hard to argue that in hindsight. But the odds were almost nil that she would have survived the crash, much less the rest.”