Devil's Due: A Thomas Caine Thriller (The Thomas Caine Series Book 0)

by Andrew Warren

  Caine spotted the table he was looking for, and walked over. Anna was seated beneath an enormous white umbrella. Next to her, sitting in its own white chair, was her doll. Her luk thep, Caine corrected himself, Tia. A platter of food was set down in front of the doll. Caine estimated that the cost of the food on the doll's plate could feed the average Thai family for a week.

  He sat down opposite Anna. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a white linen shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The wrinkled, leathery old woman cast a disapproving eye over his battered and bruised arms and legs.

  "You look like shit. Took a beating, I see."

  "I gave as good as I got."

  Anna nodded. "So I heard. No more Pisac. No more Thai Angels website. And no more Alexi Rudov, apparently."

  Caine stared back at her and said nothing.

  Anna took a sip of water from a crystal glass and leaned back in her chair. "Well, I hope it was worth it. How is your pretty bar girl? She make all your fantasies come true?"

  Caine looked out over the water. The rolling waves reflected the sun's brilliance like a sea of liquid gold.

  He turned back to Anna. "She's gone now. Moved back to her village, to be with her family."

  Anna peered at him from under the shadow of her umbrella. "Why don't you go visit her?"

  Caine shook his head. "No, I think she's better off now. It's for the best. I appreciated her friendship, but my situation is ... complicated. She's safer this way."

  Anna nodded. "Ah, too bad. But, as you say, maybe for the best. Well, all that remains is my payment. You owe me a favor. Would you like a drink?"

  "No, thank you. I won't be staying."

  Anna looked over Caine's shoulder. "Here he comes now. He's not much, but he's loyal to me. More loyal than my own children. I think, with the right partner, he could go far."

  Caine followed her gaze and saw Lau shuffling towards them across the patio. The pudgy man was dressed in a loud Hawaiian shirt and designer sunglasses.

  "What's he doing here?" Caine asked.

  "That's my favor," Anna said. "Your smuggling operation is small time, but you have skills, relationships, and you've already paid off the police. Lau here has connections to suppliers, factories in Indonesia, Vietnam, Thailand. Working together, you two can increase your profits considerably. The chao pho will take a percentage, of course.”

  Lau sat down next to Caine, beaming.

  "I work alone," Caine snapped.

  Anna stared at him with cold, dark eyes. "Not anymore. You will work with Lau, or you won't work at all. That is my price."

  Caine leaned back in his chair. He knew the old woman could make his life difficult if she chose to. And, after recent events, the last thing he needed was another enemy.

  He sighed. "Fine. But I smuggle liquor, cigarettes, counterfeit jeans, fake purses...." He leaned forward and stared at Anna. He did not blink. "No drugs. No guns. No people."

  Anna laughed. "We start small then. Keep you on the side of the angels for a little while longer, Mr. Waters."

  Caine stood up. "I don't believe in angels, or devils. I'm neither of those. Do you have a word for that?"

  "Oh yes, of course. I call them phi ka taihong."

  "Yeah? What does that mean?"

  Anna stroked the hair of her luk thep doll. "It is a spirit ... a person who is dead, but does not realize it." She looked up at him. "A lost soul."

  Caine nodded. "Well, I don't believe in ghosts either." He turned to leave. Lau stood and grabbed his shoulder.

  "Hey, wait. I contact you tomorrow about shipment. Good stuff. We make lots of money! But one problem. The Russian you kill, Alexi ... what if Russian mafia trace back to us?"

  Caine stared at his new partner. Lau's tiny, pig-like eyes were covered by the mirrored blank stare of his sunglasses. The man's face was hungry, eager, and his lips were curled up in a nervous smile.

  "Don't worry about it," Caine said. "I took care of things."

  He slipped Lau's hand off his shoulder and walked away. Caine had worked with men like Lau before. Men whose hunger for money, or power, or whatever vice they craved, consumed them. It was a slippery slope. The more you worked with people like that, the more they rubbed off on you. They could infect you, like a parasite that consumed from within.

  Caine wondered if he, too, would descend down that treacherous slope. How long would it be, how far would he have to fall, until one day he would wake up and not recognize his own reflection?

  As he left Anna and Lau behind, Kang's words echoed in his mind.

  It only takes a short time.

  Not much time at all...

  The limousine cruised to a stop and idled in front of the dark warehouse. The night sky was still and cloudless. The moon bathed the metal walls and chain link fence that surrounded them in cold, harsh light. Smoke rose from the limo's exhaust as the engine rumbled in the cold air. The windows of the vehicle were fogged, and the front wipers swept back and forth, clearing away the ice crystals that formed on the windshield.

  The rear door opened, and a tall, powerfully built man stepped out. His expensive suit and heavy cashmere overcoat shielded him from the harsh temperature. The coldest month in St. Petersburg, Russia might be February, the man thought, but a November night was no picnic either.

  His hair was steel gray and cut military short. His eyes were large and piercing blue. His name was Sergei Rudov.

  He ran one of the largest crime families of the Russian Mafia. He was Vor, a thief in law. He had done time, earned the respect of his elders, and consolidated his power as he rose through the ranks of the darkest, most hellish prisons Mother Russia could lock him away in. Every step of the ladder, every man he killed, every crime he committed, was etched in black ink across his skin. A vast tapestry of prison tattoos hid beneath his tailored suit. The ornate designs covered every inch of his flesh save for the hard, thick lines of his face.

  As he walked towards the warehouse, the door slid open. The screeching sound of metal scraping against metal echoed into the still night. A slim man in a black suit rushed out to meet him.

  "Mr. Rudov, please, accept my condolences. I am so sorry to be the one who--"

  "Show me, Antonovich. Now." His breath was an icy cloud of mist in the cold Russian night.

  "Da, of course, sir, this way."

  The lanky man, Ivan Antonovich, led Sergei to a shipping container that lay in the center of the empty warehouse. Several armed men stood guard around the container. The men shifted on their feet and shrank back into the dark corners of the warehouse as Sergei and Ivan marched past them.

  "The shipment was intercepted by our people at the Baltic Shipyard, as always, sir. We brought it here and opened it. We had vans outside to transport the merchandise ... uh, the girls, to their respective buyers. But, instead...." Ivan's voice trailed off.

  The metal door of the container was open. Sergei stood at the edge, for a moment, then stepped inside its long, narrow confines. A single body lay on the cold floor. A piece of paper was attached to its chest by a knife, stabbed deep into the corpse's flesh. The body was burned and its clothes were torn and shredded, but Sergei was able to identify who it was.

  It was the body of Alexi Rudov.

  The body of his son.

  Sergei ripped the dagger from the mangled corpse and held up the note. It appeared to be written in blood. The writing was Russian. He read it aloud, and his voice echoed through the container.

  "Death to those who betray Pisac, the devil of the Red Wa."

  Ivan slowly approached behind him. "Sir, it is Alexi, yes? The Red Wa has killed him?"

  "Put out the word, Antonovich," Sergei's voice rumbled. "Any member of our organization working with the Red Wa will face death by my hand."

  He crumpled the note in his hands.

  "As of now, we are at war."

  Thank you!

  Thank you for reading Devil’s Due. If you enjoyed this novella, would you please consider
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  AAW

  THOMAS CAINE

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  The first thrilling novel in the Thomas Caine series

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  About the Author:

  Andrew Warren was born in New Jersey, and studied film and English at the University of Miami. He has over a decade of experience in the television and motion picture industry, where he has worked as a post production supervisor, story producer, and writer. He currently lives in Southern California.

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