A few minutes later, he saw the front door of the house open. The man with the pock-marked face and balding head, the one Caine had pegged as a manager, came storming out. He was accompanied by one of the muscle-bound thugs. The manager shook his fist and shouted at Caine in Thai.
Caine adopted a relaxed pose and gave the men his best smile. "Hey, boss! Look at these girls. Beautiful, right?"
The girl with pink hair looked up and rubbed white powder off her nose. The other girls laughed. "Come on, baby, let's go for a ride," she said. "We show you good time, boss man!"
The thug pushed a button on a small remote control that hung from his belt. The gate swung open. Caine raised his arms and turned his smile up a few watts. "See, I told you this guy likes to party."
The thug walked towards him at a steady pace. He raised his arm. He was holding a pistol, aimed at Caine's head. His grip was typical "gansta" style, with the barrel of the pistol pointed down and the butt tilted sideways.
Amateur, Caine thought.
The girls screamed and huddled behind the trunk of the limo. The manager walked up the driver's side window and pounded on the glass. The window lowered. He screamed in at the driver in Thai.
A look of fear flashed over the driver's face, and he turned down the music. Only the low chugging of the limo's engine could now be heard over the night breeze. In the distance, waves crashed on the beach, and a seagull cried from overhead.
The manager turned and glared at Caine.
"You make mistake. People in this house, they want privacy. No girls, no noise, no cops, understand? You stupid man. Leave now, or we clean up mistake. We clean up you, farrang. Got it?"
The man with the gun continued walking towards Caine. His eyes were covered by cheap mirrored sunglasses, but there was no mistaking his twisted, leering smile. Caine knew a killer when he saw one. He could see his reflection in the thug's glasses.
Caine kept up his relaxed, friendly posture, but instead of backing away, he took a step towards the gunman. He raised his hands slightly, as if to signal surrender. "Hey, boss, all good. Ladies, party's off, let's get back in the limo."
The girls muttered to one another in scared voices as they opened the door and piled into the back of the long, black vehicle. Caine took another step forward. The gun was only a couple feet from his head. He saw the gunman sneak a sideways glance at one of the girls as she bent over to climb into the car. It was just a fraction of a second, but it was enough.
Caine's left arm shot forward and pushed the gun sideways, towards his right side. His fingers wrapped around the barrel, and he punched downwards, driving the gunman's hand down to his waist. The gun was now pointing ninety degrees to Caine's right, aimed towards the limo. He knew had to act fast, or the gunman might squeeze off a shot and injure one of the girls in the car.
Even as the gun moved downwards, his right hand was winding back. He snapped it forward, punching the thug in the face. As the man stumbled backwards, Caine let the momentum from the punch carry his arm forward, sliding along the man's arm until he felt the cold metal of the pistol. Now, both his hands held the gun in a firm grip.
With a powerful twist, Caine yanked the barrel of the gun, straight up. There was a loud crack as the bones in the thug's trigger finger snapped. The man screamed, and he loosened his grip on the pistol. Caine yanked the weapon away and took a step back.
The thug bent over, cradling his broken finger. Caine swung the pistol butt down on the back of the man's head. He grunted in surprise, and fell to the ground. Caine kneeled down, clubbing him on the head once again. The man would not be getting up anytime soon.
Panting, he turned and pointed the gun at the manager. "You ... take out your wallet."
The manager froze, barely able to comprehend the sudden explosion of violence he had witnessed. His beady eyes glared at Caine with surprise and fear. "You crazy? You try to rob this house?"
"Do it."
The man fumbled for his wallet and held it out to Caine. Not moving, Caine kept his gun aimed at the manager. "All your cash. Give it to the girls. They deserve a tip."
The man did as he was told, taking several thousand baht notes from his wallet and holding it out towards the limo. The rear window rolled down, and the girl with the pink hair grabbed the cash. The limo roared to life, kicking up dust as it drove in a circle around them and then tore off down the beach road. Its red taillights disappeared over a hill. Caine was alone with the man in front of the house.
He walked over to the short, pudgy man, spun him around, and frisked him. The man was unarmed. Caine took a step back. "What's your name?"
The man was silent for a moment, but then spat out, "Lau. Lau Somchai."
Caine pushed his shoulder with the barrel of the gun. The man stumbled forward. "OK, Lau," Caine said. "I want to talk to your boss."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Caine clenched the fabric of Lau's shirt in his right hand and the gun in his left as he followed behind the shorter man. He pivoted left and right, keeping Lau between himself and the other thugs that stared at them as they made their way through the house.
It was dark outside now, and the interior was dim, lit only by an occasional lamp or flickering TV. The house was modern contemporary in style and decorated almost entirely in white. The hired muscle, in their cheap shirts and knock-off jeans, looked out of place in the gleaming, pristine surroundings.
Lau led him out a set of sliding glass doors and down a staircase to a blue-tiled patio. The sound of the waves was louder now. The beach was somewhere out in the darkness. Turning left, they walked down another flight of stairs. At last, they emerged beside a shimmering, rectangular swimming pool. The lights from the pool reflected across the water, casting a rippling glow over the patio.
A figure was hunched in a white plastic chair. A few other chairs were set up around an outdoor patio table. The figure was facing a large, flat screen TV that that been set up on a stand. A dirty orange extension cord ran from the TV into the house, powering the Thai soap opera that flickered on the enormous screen.
"You one crazy farrang," Lau whispered as they walked towards the dark figure. "You get in here, no problem. But you never get out. You die here."
"Just introduce me," Caine muttered.
He spotted several gunmen perched on the balcony above them, training their weapons on him. He realized Lau might be correct. If things did not go well, it was unlikely he would leave this house alive.
As they reached the table, Lau dropped to his knees. The pudgy little man bowed, touching his head to the ground. "Chao Mae, forgive me. I fail you!"
The figure in the chair turned to face them. Caine was surprised to see an elderly woman's face eying him with dark, sunken eyes. She was dressed in a pink robe over her fluffy, white slippers. A silk scarf held back her stark white hair, although a single gray curl flopped across her wrinkled forehead.
"Yes, you have failed me, Lau," the woman said. "How many times have I told you, never interrupt my dramas?" Her voice was low and raspy. Caine could hear years of smoking and drinking in the harsh, scratchy tone. Her eyes darted back and forth over his face, like a serpent's tongue. "Who the hell are you?"
Caine eyed the old woman, but kept his gun trained on Lau. "My name is Mark Waters."
The woman turned away and poured herself some tea from a metal pot on the table. "Huh. I'm old enough to know a lie when I hear one. But what do I care? None of my business what you write on your tombstone. You can call me Anna. Sit and have some tea, while things are still civil."
Caine watched as several gunmen moved down to the pool. They hung just out of the light, keeping their weapons aimed at him from a distance. He shrugged and walked over to the table. Whoever this woman was, the men seemed to be protecting her. His best chance to survive was to stay close to her. She made a waving motion with her hand, and Lau stood up. He glared at Caine, then turned and shuffled back into the house.
Caine sat down in one of the patio chai
rs and placed the gun on the table, making sure to keep it out of the old woman's reach. Anna sat to his right. Across the table from him, sitting in the free chair, was a small doll.
The doll was exactly the same size as a young human girl. Its porcelain skin had a pink, glossy sheen to it. Thick black hair fell to its shoulders, and Caine was certain the strands were real, human hair. Its plastic eyes sparkled, reflecting the rippling glow of the pool. The thing almost looked alive in the dim, shifting light, and Caine found the effect unnerving.
The doll was dressed in expensive, designer clothes. A plate of real food sat on the table before it.
Anna flashed him a toothy smile and poured him a cup of tea. She poured another cup and set it before the inanimate figure. "This is my luk thep. Her name is Tia. Say hello to Tia, Mr. Waters."
Caine turned his gaze from the doll to the old woman. "It's a doll."
"It's not a doll; it's a luk thep. Do you know what that means?"
Caine shook his head.
"It means 'child angel'," the woman rasped. "She was blessed by a Buddhist priest. She's not a toy; she's a talisman. Now say hello, or I'll have my men you flay alive."
Caine turned to the doll. "Hello, Tia. Pleased to meet you." He spoke as if he were talking to a small child.
The woman smiled and turned back to the TV. "Damn, now I'm lost. You picked an inconvenient time to disturb me, Mr. Waters."
Caine took a sip of tea. The woman is deranged, he thought. He would have to proceed carefully. "I was expecting to find a chao pho godfather in this house."
She gave him a shrew smile. "Instead, you found a godmother. The correct term is chao mae. Surprised?"
Caine nodded. "Pleasantly."
"We'll see. I haven't decided if you get to live or not. What are you doing here?"
Caine reached into his pocket, noting the way the gunmen surrounding them tensed up. They relaxed when he pulled out his burner phone. He had saved digital copies of the pictures Satra had shown him on its memory card. He called up the pictures, and slowly slid the phone over to Anna.
"This website. Thai Angels. I believe the chao pho are running it. These girls have been taken."
The woman picked up the phone and flipped through the pictures. "Your chances are getting worse, Mr. Waters. I don't see why I should care about some kidnapped bar girls."
"I want them back. That's why I came here."
The woman put down the phone and squinted at him. Her face was cold and still. She gave Caine the impression of a gargoyle statue: cold, lifeless, and eternal.
"Why?" she asked. "Why do you want them back? What are they to you?"
"That doesn't matter," Caine answered quietly.
Again, the woman uttered her raspy chuckle. "I think you will find it matters a great deal."
Caine leaned back in his chair. "Anna, obviously you are a powerful woman. I don't want to make an enemy of you. I mean no disrespect, but please believe me when I say I have fought my way into and out of worse places than this."
Anna nodded. "Yes, yes, you've got balls, and you've got skill--I'll give you that. You're what, a con man, a smuggler? Some kind of two-bit criminal, or at least you're pretending to be. And yet you're risking your life sitting here at my table, looking for these girls. Girls are a dime a dozen in Pattaya, so I know this isn't a business transaction. Which means this is personal, isn't it? You want to save them. Save them from some horrible fate worse than death, yes? What are you, some kind of guardian angel?"
Caine stared at her, but said nothing.
Anna's voice grew even more dry and raspy. "But the way you took care of my men, fought your way into this house ... I can see by the look in your eyes, you've watched men die. It leaves a mark on you. Blood always stains."
Caine shifted in his chair. "I'm sure you've seen your share of blood, Anna."
The old woman nodded. "Oh, yes. Take it from me, whatever your name is. You can be both an angel and a devil for only so long. Sooner or later, you have to choose one."
Caine reached out to grab the phone, and Anna slammed her hand on top of his. The movement was sudden and powerful, and Caine was shocked the old woman could move so quickly. Her stare pierced him like icy nails.
"If you wait long enough, Mr. Waters, one will choose you."
She released his hand, and he took back his phone.
"As I said, I don't want to make an enemy of you," Caine replied, "but I warn you not to make an enemy of me. I'm not looking to save the world. I just want these girls back. I'll do whatever it takes to get them."
Anna nodded. She turned her attention back to the TV. "This actress is lovely; don't you think? She plays the mother of the wealthy businessman. She's a real dragon lady, the power behind his thrown, so to speak. He wants to marry the common girl from town, but the mother has already arranged for him to marry his business rival's daughter."
As Anna rattled on about the plot of the drama, a servant emerged from the house to clear their dishes. He removed the plate of food in front of Anna's doll and replaced it with a small dish that held a colorful assortment of macaroons.
"When police tried to investigate this website, your people set off a bomb in the floating market. How many real children did you kill there?" Caine asked in a cold, flat voice.
"Oh, bullshit," Anna snapped. Her nostrils flared with anger and indignation. "My people didn't set off any bombs. Whoever led you here is covering their tracks. You've been played, Mr. Waters. That website isn't run by me, or any other chao pho family.”
"You expect me to believe the chao pho doesn't engage in human trafficking?" Caine asked.
"Yes, I traffic women. Poor girls from shit towns come to me, desperate for a new life, willing to do anything to make enough money to feed their families. Do I profit off their misery? Certainly. I'm not going to apologize for that to a man like you. We both know you've done far worse, and you don't have as many years behind you as I do. Am I wrong?"
Caine returned her stare, waiting for her to continue.
"I ship them all over the world, and they do what they have to. It's not pretty; survival never is. But kidnapping local girls, auctioning them off like cattle? That's not only shameful, it's bad business. Too much risk. Sends people like you to my door."
"Why should I believe you?" Caine asked.
Anna twisted her dry, cracked lips into a smile. "Because I can prove it to you. I can tell you who is really running the site--and, with a little luck, where to find your precious bar girls."
Caine leaned forward in his chair. "Where are they?"
"Not so fast," Anna cackled. "I'm not in the habit of giving out information for free. There's a price. And you did say you would do whatever it takes, didn't you?"
Caine glared at the leathery old woman. "Fine. How much do you want?"
Anna smiled again. "Do I look like I need your money? No, no, keep your baht. You have skills, connections. You were able to find me here. I want you to put those skills to work for me. A favor, chosen by me at a later date. Nothing too far south of your moral compass, I promise. We have a deal, yes?"
Caine hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."
Anna spit in her hand and held it out to Caine. He shook it.
"Good." The old woman took a deep, wheezing breath. "Now, the people running that website are not chao pho. They are the Red Wa. Have you heard of them?"
Caine thought for a second. "Drug runners. They operate in the hills, on the northern border. Refugees and immigrants from the United Wa State, an independent territory in Burma ... or I guess I should say Myanmar now."
Anna nodded. "You're well-informed. The chao pho have had good relations with the Red Wa in the past. We both have Chinese ancestry in our blood. We have a partnership in the meth trade here in Thailand."
"So, why are you selling them out to me?" Caine asked.
"One of their number, a man we call Pisac, has been muscling into our territory here in Pattaya. Massage parlors, brothels
, beer bars ... he has overstepped his bounds. These are chao pho operations. Pisac believes his contributions to our drug trafficking success have earned him a cut of the profits from our other operations. We do not share his belief."
"Pisac?" Caine asked.
"It means 'devil'. Whatever you may think of me, I promise you, this man lives up to the name."
"I don't believe in devils or demons, Anna."
The old woman shrugged. "As you like. Anyway, I used to do business with the Rudov family. They are old-school Russian mafia, a Vor family. The father, Sergei, was recently released from prison. Just before his release, Alexi Rudov, his son, cut ties with us. We believe he is now working with Pisac and the Red Wa. They set up the Thai Angels site together. Handpicked girls. Pretty, sexy bar girls, not filthy village peasants with crooked teeth and scrawny bodies. Girls like this, men see, men desire. Now, they can have them, with the click of a button." Anna shook her head. "Shameful."
"I had a run-in with Alexi Rudov. He's disappeared."
"He's probably gone to the Red Wa camp, to take possession of the girls. They will be locked into a cargo container and loaded onto a ship. No way out, no sunlight, pitch black darkness. Maybe they have a flashlight so they don't piss and shit on each other. Whatever food and water Pisac provides for them, it won't be enough. Some will most likely die on their journey. Maybe they will be the lucky ones."
"Where is the camp?" Caine asked, his eyes glowing with anger.
Anna turned her attention back to the TV. Her show had ended. On screen, the credits rolled over a still frame image, a Thai man and woman, holding each other in a passionate embrace.
"Damn, I missed the whole show. You really fucked up my night, Mr. Waters."
"Where are the girls?" Caine asked, his voice louder than before.
Anna picked up a remote and turned the TV off. The screen went dark.
"I don't know. Let me check with my people. Leave your contact information with Lau, inside the house. We will send you a location within twenty-four hours, and you can rush off to save your lovelies. Assuming you survive, per our agreement, you will do a favor for me. Yes?"
Devil's Due: A Thomas Caine Thriller (The Thomas Caine Series Book 0) Page 6
