Chapter 38
We continued moving until we reached a quiet, residential part of the city. We had done our best to throw the assassin off of our trail by doubling back, cutting through restaurants and shops, and never looking anyone directly in the eyes.
I utilized every tactic I had learned through my training as a young teen. Infiltration was where I excelled. To me, that was a skill worth mastering, one that gave me an undeniable advantage in my profession. During my training, I focused on developing my ability to get in and out of any sort of environment without anyone knowing. I wanted to be a ghost.
Still, I was troubled by the fact that this particular assassin was able to locate us not once but twice. Very few people had the skills needed to find me, even trained assassins. Most of them focused on honing their ability to kill. While important, it did them no good if they couldn’t find the mark or figure out how to get close enough to deliver a fatal blow. But there was a subset of assassins I knew of who excelled at tracking. The assassin after Akil was obviously one of them.
I’d come across a few of these individuals in my lifetime. There were two who lived within my clan while growing up. They were the best I’d ever seen in that particular skill set, but I had seen this assassin’s face and I didn’t recognize him. I had to be careful. I could easily put Akil and myself into a position I may not be able to save us. Well, him.
I had to wonder if this assassin had been tracking me in Paris. If so, was he working with the assassin who killed Feki and Yesmine? Why couldn’t he complete the contract himself? I thought it odd. Why would the Wolf want to keep tabs on me? Was I closer to locating him than I thought? Is that why he ordered the deaths of everyone involved with the birth of my child?
I tried to put myself in his shoes. Why would I want to keep tabs on my adversary? What purpose or interest would that serve beyond protection? Then I had a moment of clarity.
He’s using me to find them.
Clever. I had to give him that. Putting a tracker assassin on me only helped increase the odds of him eliminating everyone. I’d already led him to Akil, and I could very well lead him to the nurse in Thailand. I had to lose him or eliminate him. Neither option would be easy.
One thing was certain: I needed to keep Akil alive until we reached the Thai border. After that, the assassin could have his way with him. The situation was the same with the nurse; as soon as I learned what information she had about my daughter or the Wolf, she would cease to be a person of interest to me.
As far as I was concerned, all of these individuals were involved in the kidnapping of my daughter. I felt no guilt. These people were already marked. The Wolf wouldn’t stop until he knew they were all dead. It wasn’t my duty to keep them alive, I just needed to stay far enough ahead of the tracker.
“Hold up,” I said as we passed a small gothic church. There was a Latin inscription carved into the stone header above the entrance and a poorly maintained stained-glass portrait above that.
“What?” he asked.
“We need to determine our next steps forward.”
I grabbed the weathered metal handle of one of the wooden doors. Both were warped due to age and humidity, but nothing a hard tug couldn’t solve. I peeked inside. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight inside the old building. The air inside was noticeably cooler and fragrant with burning incense. I counted five rows of pews with an aisle down the middle. Each one sat four or five people comfortably—not a big congregation. But what was most important was that the church was empty.
“Come on,” I said, holding the door open. “This place will do.”
“You plan to ask your god for help?”
“No, but I would advise you to reach out to yours.”
We sat on the left side, in the third pew from the front. “After what happened, the bus terminal won’t work,” I said. “The assassin might even be heading there. We’ll need to find other transport to Thailand.”
Akil crossed a leg over the other and then scratched at his chin until a light in his head seemed to click on. “I got it,” he said, snapping his fingers.
He removed his cell phone from his fanny bag and dialed a number. He spoke in Tunisian with the person on the other end. The conversation started off cordial, but by the time he ended the call, it had turned into a shouting match.
“Okay, it’s settled,” he said tucking his phone away. “I have a friend who can help us.”
“Really?” I pulled my head back and raised an eyebrow. “It sounded as if he wanted nothing to do with you.”
Akil waved me off. “It’s always like this between us.”
“Can you trust him? You keep saying everyone here can be bought. What makes you so sure he isn’t dreaming of collecting a finder’s fee for your head?”
“Don’t worry—we’re related from my mother’s sister’s husband’s side. It’ll be okay.”
I let out a breath. “Fine. Is he meeting us here?”
He shook his head. “We will meet him in one hour. Not far from here, at the Russian Market.”
Chapter 39
Ponleak was second in command and a cofounder of the Khmer Kings. He and another man, Li’l Cambo, were known as Cambodian throwbacks—citizens who immigrated to America during the seventies and eighties but were then deported later in life.
Both had parents who didn’t follow through with obtaining citizenship for themselves or their children after arriving in the States. As teens, they joined up with the Asian Assault Force, a Cambodian gang located in Long Beach, California. They were arrested and convicted for a series of burglaries shortly after they both turned twenty-one.
After serving five-year prison terms in Los Angeles County State Prison both men were promptly deported back to Cambodia with no chance of ever legally returning to the States. With no real future ahead of them and gang life being the only thing they knew, they started the Khmer Kings gang.
“Ponleak!” the voice called out, followed by two thumps against the bedroom door. “Get up.”
Ponleak rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. The sun shining through the sheer curtains stung and forced him to squint. He licked his lips and tasted the sour still residing inside his mouth from last night’s intoxicating revelry.
He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed and rubbed the crust from his eyes.
“Did you hear me?” the voice outside continued.
Ponleak managed a hoarse reply. “I heard you.” He grabbed the pack of Marlboros off the bedside table, tapped out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long pull, and the nicotine rush quickly breathed life back into his senses. He sat for another minute before exiting his bedroom and shuffling barefoot to the kitchen.
“So glad you could join me,” Li’l Cambo said, looking up. He was sitting at the kitchen table counting a massive pile of American dollars. There was also a Colt .45 handgun laying on the glass tabletop.
The two shared a four-bedroom, three-bath villa with a swimming pool and other luxury amenities. They agreed when they formed the gang that living together and sharing everything equally would keep their relationship strong and free from pettiness.
“Man, you look like shit.” Li’l Cambo let out a hearty laugh as his friend took a seat next to him.
Ponleak was wearing white boxers and an undershirt. His hair was in a lopsided faux-hawk. He scratched his armpit as he sucked on the cigarette.
Li’l Cambo was the fitter of the two, sticking to a strict daily regimen at the gym. Since their return to Cambodia, he had managed to pack twenty pounds of muscle onto his five-foot-seven-inch frame. Ponleak choose to be at peace with his beer belly. It really wasn’t very big and stood out only because the rest of his frame was thin.
“Too much last night,” Ponleak grunted. “What’s all this?”
“While you were out getting hammered, the card game got hit hard last night. A couple of lucky players nearly cleaned us out. I have to replenish the reserves
for tonight.”
Trafficking young girls wasn’t the gang’s only source of income. They also had their hands in hosting pop-up gambling dens, collecting protection money from vendors in a few of the outdoor markets, and counterfeiting—mostly athletic shoes. Knockoff sneakers sold well to the wannabes who couldn’t afford the hundred-to-two-hundred price tags on the real goods. This was the area where Ponleak really wanted to steer the gang’s interest. Child prostitution was a niche market and high risk. Counterfeiting the hottest shoe brands was a safer bet and had widespread appeal. In the long run, it would rake in more profits. Ponleak tapped ash into an empty paper cup before taking another pull.
“After I have to go to Siem Reap to take care of that thing,” Li’l Cambo continued.
“You want me to come?” Ponleak asked, raising an eyebrow.
A few weeks ago, the gang had set up a small gambling den there, but it wasn’t without its problems. Both suspected the man they hired to manage the operation was skimming from the profits. Li’l Cambo intended to find out once and for all if this was the truth.
“No. One of us should stay here. I’ll take Atith and Chea with me. If he’s cheating us, I’ll take care of it.” Li’l Cambo nodded at the handgun.
Most of the members in the gang utilized knives or machetes as their weapons of choice for conducting business. Intimidation and a beating went a long way in keeping people in line. Li’l Cambo thought otherwise. He liked kneeling a man down, pressing the barrel of a gun against the back of his head, and pulling the trigger—a habit he had brought back after serving as an enforcer for the AAF gang in Long Beach, California.
Just then, Ponleak’s cell phone rang. “What? Wait. Slow down. Tell me everything. I see... Uh-huh. How many are hurt? Dead? I told you not to do anything without me. No, I’ll meet you there.” He frowned at the phone as he disconnected.
“What’s up?” Li’l Cambo asked.
“That was Acharya. Akil is back in town and he brought protection—a woman.” Ponleak went on to explain what had happened at Akil’s apartment.
“Bora and Devi are dead? Who is this bitch? I’m coming with you.” Li’l Cambo grabbed the Colt off the table.
“No!” Ponleak placed a hand on Li’l Cambo’s arm. “I need to take care of this. I need to be the one who deals with Akil. Chivy deserves that much.” His eyes were filled with determined vengeance.
Two years earlier, Ponleak had met Chivy when her mother was in the process of selling the seven-year-old to one of the many brothels in Svay Pak. He was making a deal with the owner for another matter when he caught sight of the little girl’s large brown eyes and infectious smile. He’d convinced the mother not to sell her.
In exchange, Ponleak supported the family, paid for Chivy’s schooling, and covered other unexpected expenses. He had loved her like she was his own child. Ponleak had no sexual interest in children and shielded her from that world as best as he could.
One night, Ponleak asked Akil to drive Chivy back home because gang business had come up unexpectedly. The following day, Chivy’s mother called asking where she was. When Ponleak questioned Akil, he insisted he had dropped the girl off a few blocks away from her home because she wanted to visit a friend.
A few days later, the police found Chivy’s bloated body tangled in the mangroves of the Mekong River. She had suffered multiple contusions to her face and had signs of forced vaginal and anal entry, but ultimately a local medical examiner named asphyxiation as the cause of death.
When Ponleak summoned Akil to the villa for further explanations, he never showed. He never returned calls. He had disappeared. But Ponleak wasn’t one to forget.
“She was a good girl,” Li’l Cambo said, his eyes softened for a moment. They narrowed as he continued. “And if Akil’s responsible for killing our men...”
“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. They should have called me the minute they knew he was back in Cambodia. This is what I get for relying on them to locate Akil instead of handling it myself. Stupid fuckers tried to be heroes again and grab him. They already screwed up in Ho Chi Minh.”
“I know you need to take care of this yourself,” Li’l Cambo said. “But if you want me to help…” He gave Ponleak a strong pat on the shoulder.
Ponleak appreciated his friend’s offer but this was his fight. He had to be the one to deal with Akil.
Chapter 40
Sei was much better than Mdivani had anticipated. After losing them in the passageway, he determined that the bus terminal would be his best shot at picking up their trail. It was the most obvious of places, at least to him, and most likely to Sei. It was clear they hadn’t come to Phnom Penh to meet with someone. They needed something in that apartment, and it wasn’t important to Sei. If it were, Akil would have handed it over, and they would have separated. But that wasn’t the case.
She had chased after him on the rooftop, and when she caught him, there were no consequences. Instead, she helped him again when they were climbing down the trellis. She still needed Akil, and Mdivani still had a chance to prevent her from getting whatever it was.
The only other variable Mdivani couldn’t quite determine was whether they still had business to conduct in Phnom Penh or were they on their way out? All he could surmise was that if they were leaving, they would do so right away. Covering the bus terminal was his only option at the moment.
After arriving at the terminal, Mdivani conducted a quick walkthrough but didn’t see the two. He made note of the bus schedule and the destinations of the departing buses: Siem Reap, Ho Chi Minh City, Thailand, Vientiane, Hanoi were the major destinations. There were a number of places they could go within Cambodia but Mdivani’s gut told him they would leave the country.
He found an area where he could remain out of sight but still have an unobstructed view of the terminal entrance and ticket windows. He took a seat in a blue molded-plastic chair that was anchored to five others and surveyed the area. Travelers were lined up at the ticket booths to purchase tickets. The food carts had brisk business; even the lone restaurant serving a combination of American and Cambodian food—burgers and stir-fry—had its tables filled. Suitcase after suitcase wheeled by in front of him. Mdivani put on a pair of imitation Ray Ban Wayfarers he picked up in Vietnam and folded his hands on his lap, content to play the role of a tourist.
It wasn’t long before a group of men walked through the entrance. Gauging from their urban street attire and tattooed arms, Mdivani pegged them as associates of the men who were chasing Akil earlier. Reinforcements? Were they also expecting Akil to leave Phnom Penh or were they covering all their bases?
He took a sip of the fresh-pressed pomegranate juice he had purchased from the vendor next to him. It was cool and refreshing with the right amount of tart. The handle of the Beretta he had hidden in the waistband of his pants dug into his back, prompting him to shift in his chair more often then he would have liked.
To pass the time, he decided to update his employer. This was not something he was particularly looking forward to, given there was a fifty-fifty chance he had lost Sei and Akil. He removed his cell phone from his pants pocket and opened a messenger application.
After a few seconds, Mdivani received a response from Vasili Ivanovich. All communications went through him. No one spoke directly to the Wolf. He spent the next few minutes bringing Ivanovich up to speed on everything that had taken place since his arrival in Vietnam. He grimaced slightly when having to mention that two opportunities to kill Akil had failed. Still, Ivanovich praised the assassin’s ability to track them as far as he had.
Mdivani: Akil hasn’t told her everything he knows.
Ivanovich: How can you be sure of this?
Mdivani: She is still with him. I believe he’s taking her to someone. Could be one of the other targets.
Ivanovich: These other men after Akil, who are they?
Mdivani: I’m not sure. A local gang, maybe. They’ve made two attempts to catch Akil. They’re capa
ble of more.
Ivanovich: You must pick up the trail. You cannot lose them.
Mdivani: Understood.
Ivanovich: I have new orders from the Wolf. Do not kill Akil and make sure no one else does either.
Mdivani blinked his eyes and reread the text. He couldn’t understand why his directives had changed, again. First, he wasn’t allowed to act on any open contracts, then he was told he could have Akil’s contract, and now that offer was being rescinded. He couldn’t help but think that perhaps his ability had come into question.
Mdivani: Why am I losing the contract? I can get him. Believe me.
Ivanovich: You are mistaking our intentions. If Akil is leading Sei to another target, you can kill that one as well. This is the Wolf’s wish.
Mdivani: What about the girl?
Ivanovich: Your orders on her have not changed. She is not to be harmed.
Mdivani lowered his phone as he came to grips with his new mission. Not only was Sei keeping Akil alive, it was now his job to do so as well.
Chapter 41
We remained in the quiet sanctuary a bit longer, until people filed in for afternoon mass. According to Akil, the Russian Market was nearby, maybe a twenty-minute walk from the church. On the way over there, I inquired again about the person we were meeting.
“His name is Yanick Kanzari. He’s Tunisian. Nothing to worry about,” Akil said rather casually, walking with both hands buried in his pants pockets.
“What is he doing in Cambodia?”
“Enjoying the warm weather and fresh fruit.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing it again. Making me want to hurt you.”
Contract: Sicko (Sei Assassin Thriller Book 2) Page 12
