I took out my list and crossed off Bumrungrad, thinking my approach may not be as laborious as I had anticipated.
Chapter 58
Mdivani arrived in Bangkok at eleven a.m., later than he had intended. He had taken a wrong turn on his way to Koh Kong and discovered his mistake only after driving for thirty minutes in the wrong direction. When he reached the border, he ditched the taxi on the Cambodian side, crossed over, and hired a Thai taxi parked next to couple of vendors selling street food.
He didn’t need to research a central location because he had visited Bangkok on numerous occasions. He instructed the taxi driver to take him to the Grand Sheraton Hotel located next to the Asoke Skytrain terminal, just opposite the Westin.
Mdivani knew the Metropolitan Rapid Transit (MRT), Bangkok’s underground system, also intersected with the skytrain at that point. Between those two options, taxis, and motorbikes, he had a variety of ways to move about the city.
Mdivani always traveled with three passports, and he crossed the border and checked into the hotel with a different name than the one he used in Vietnam. Before heading up to his room, he purchased a pair of slacks and a dress shirt from one of the boutiques inside the hotel. He thought about heading over to the Robinson Department Store across the street to purchase a new pair of shoes to replace his badly scuffed pair, but opted instead to have the hotel give them a shine.
Once settled into his room, he placed an order for room service and then took a hot shower. He had just finished toweling off when his food arrived: a club sandwich and fries.
Dressed in the hotel’s fluffy white robe, he removed a small tablet from his knapsack and sat on the bed. The Wolf had provided him with information on all of the contracts: a photo, the job they were hired to do, and their last known address. Mdivani scanned the pictures and began mentally crossing off the people who were already dead: Feki, Delacroix, and Akil. That left six individuals: five nurses and another man hired to provide security.
Akil had been hired to provide security, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think he had known the other guard. Perhaps they both fled France together. The others involved were nurses. Would it be beyond belief for Akil to have known one of them? The nurses were all from Paris but lived in different neighborhoods, except for one: Amina Jelassi. She lived in La Cite, the same location Akil had lived in. Hmmm, she’s a strong contender. So Mdivani narrowed it down to the other security guard and the one nurse. Which one of you is hiding in Bangkok?
With the information in hand, completing the contracts should have been a breeze, but something had spooked the workers. All but Delacroix had fled their homes and gone into hiding. Somehow they found out they had been used to orchestrate a kidnapping. The thinking in the Wolf’s camp was that Delacroix had tipped them off. The workers were smart to run.
From what little Mdivani understood of what had happened that day, they were all told they would be helping with the childbirth of a VIP. Hence the secrecy and the need for armed men providing security. Still, it was hard to cover up the disappearance of a newborn.
Nurse or security? Mdivani continued to mull over the options as he bit into the overstuffed sandwich. Akil had to have known the person he was meeting fairly well to lead Sei there. It was likely that Akil and that other person traveled to the region together and then separated. Both a security guard and a nurse could find employment in Bangkok, but it would be especially easy for Amina. She had legal status in France, and all the proper paperwork and contacts to support her resume. The security guard didn’t share the same status, but what requirements are really needed to be a security guard at a construction site or a parking lot?
Did that mean it was Amina? Not necessarily. Both could be working as illegal immigrants in Thailand. Mdivani knew it wasn’t hard for immigrants to live and work in the country illegally, though if Amina wanted a job as a nurse in a proper hospital, she would require legal visa documentation and a work permit. The guard could easily find work doing odd jobs and be paid under the table. With that said, legal requirements for both could be easily purchased on the black market.
Mdivani ate a couple of fries as he contemplated the dilemma. In his head he kept coming back to the security guard. It just made the most sense. He couldn’t see a person like Akil knowing a person like Amina, even if they did live in the same complex. All three were Tunisian immigrants, and La Cite was home to a large Tunisian community—it could be coincidental that they all lived in the same area, but he felt strongly that the guards would know each other. Mdivani couldn’t shake the thought from his head. There was no reason to. Except, he suddenly realized there was.
Chapter 59
I know it’s you.
Mdivani scooted back on the king-size bed and leaned against the backboard with his legs out straight and the tablet resting vertically on his stomach. The picture of Amina Jelassi had been enlarged to fill the entire screen. According to her file, Amina was twenty-seven years old. She had thick, chocolate-brown hair that came to her shoulders, piercing hazel eyes, and a tiny mole located near the right corner of her mouth. She was roughly five foot six, of average weight with amble bosoms—a pretty girl by anyone’s standard.
It has to be you, Mdivani thought. You have something to lose.
The turning point had to do with their employment statuses. Amina had a real profession. She was a trained nurse, hired to assist Delacroix with the birth. The other man hired for security had nothing listed as his profession. Any street thug could be given a handgun and told to watch the door. Mdivani figured he was in a similar boat as Akil and bounced around from one odd job to the next. A loser.
But Amina had invested in her career. She had something concrete to lose should she be caught up in a kidnapping scandal. She had real reason to distance herself. It made sense.
Bangkok was a large metropolis with Western standards. Medical tourism was burgeoning business with patients flocking to Thailand from neighboring countries as far as the US and UK. Amina would easily find employment here. She could continue her lawful life.
Mdivani took another bite of his sandwich and then a sip of the coffee he had also ordered. It was lukewarm, so he drank the entire cup in one fell swoop. He then began mentally compiling a list of hospitals. He had a name, a profession, and a picture. He couldn’t be sure what information Sei held. She had a name; he assumed that much. She might even know the hospital she worked at, but Mdivani didn’t want to think negatively.
He needed to move fast. Bumrungrad International Hospital topped his list. He had visited it before and knew its exact location. He could continue working on the list while on the move. He called the front desk for his shoes and then changed into the clothing he’d purchased earlier. Minutes later, he was straddling the seat of a motorbike taxi and zipping along Sukhumvit Road.
Chapter 60
Next on my list was BNH, Bangkok Nursing Home Hospital. Much like Bumrungrad, it was well established and known to treat both Thai-and English-speaking patients. I assumed Amina wasn’t well versed in Thai, so she probably had to work at hospital that serviced a decent number of English-speaking patients. At that point, I simply wanted to insert as much rational thought into how I prioritized the hospitals I went to, rather than using just location as the determining factor.
I opted for a taxi when I left Bumrungrad. While en route, I checked Google Maps on my phone to get an idea of where BNH was located in conjunction to the next one on my list: Samitivej Hospital. Bumrungrad, BNH, and Samitivej were the biggest and most popular in Bangkok.
BNH was located in the Silom district. Samitivej was located in the opposite direction, clear across town in the Thonglor neighborhood. As always, the search continued to stretch itself. As I settled in for what would be at least a twenty-five minute ride, my thoughts drifted to Mui.
Before finding out she was alive, I did think about her, but it was always in the past tense. What sort of child would she have been? Shy? Rambunctious? A little diva?
Strong and independent? A warrior like her mother? That would have been the one instance where I wouldn’t want her to follow in my footsteps.
There was an enormous load of guilt on my shoulders, as if I somehow should have known she wasn’t dead. My motherly intuition should have kicked in. Alarms should have sounded. A nagging should have lived inside of me like an unreachable itch. She had remained curled up inside of me for nine months. Fed off of me. Kicked me. Hurt me. Shouldn’t that have created the unbreakable bond?
Was it wrong that I had simply accepted her death? Was that a sign that I wasn’t motherly, that I was unable to raise a child and shower it with the love it needs? Was this punishment for my profession, the universe’s way of saying I didn’t deserve to bring a life in this world when I had taken so many? When I find you, Mui, I will never let go. That I promise.
My thoughts about her in the present were different. Did she have enough to eat, proper clothes to wear, or even a comfy bed to sleep on? Was someone showing her affection, giving her a hug, or telling her that everything will be okay? Or was she kept in a room by herself, filthy, hungry, and without any human contact? It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
To make matters worse, a year had passed since my discovery, and I was no closer to finding her. I felt like a monumental failure, like I wasn’t trying hard enough. Yet I knew I was doing everything I could think of. In fact, every choice I had made was based on one guiding principle: would doing this bring me closer to finding Mui?
The last year’s decisions weighed heavily on me. I would often lay awake at night, questioning myself. Where did I go wrong? Why had I not made more progress? Why had I not made any?
In my profession, I had been tasked with doing the impossible and succeeded. Why could I not do the same for my daughter? Why couldn’t all of the skills I’d acquired over my lifetime help me find her? I’d found marks that should never have been found. I’d infiltrated buildings that were impenetrable. I’d done the unthinkable, an unthinkable number of times. Why was finding Mui proving to be the anomaly?
The taxi jerked to a stop and snapped me out of my thoughts. The driver pointed at a building across the street. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, paid the fare, and exited the vehicle.
Obstetrics was located in the east wing on the third floor. The overstuffed elevator opened into a crowded waiting room. There wasn’t a smiling attendant waiting to answer my questions here. Instead, I faced a line of people and a single nurse helping them. A quick look was all I needed to see that the line was moving at the speed of incompetent-employee-helping-ignorant-customer.
I stopped a passing nurse, but she had a heavy accent, and it was very difficult to understand her. I eventually used up my three requests for her to repeat what she was saying; it had become awkward. We smiled at one another and parted.
I intercepted workers one by one, but they were either too busy to speak to me, didn’t speak any English, or if they did speak English, shrugged and said they hadn’t heard of her. I could have taken their word, but I needed to be sure. What I wanted was someone to look at a list of employees and tell me that nobody by that name worked there or “Yes, she’s here and her shift starts at this time.” I needed that level of confirmation to feel satisfied before moving on to the next hospital.
The more passersby I asked, the more conflicting the answers had become. Bumrungrad had led me to believe there was hope in bureaucracy. I should have known better.
I left BNH eighty-percent sure that Amina didn’t work there. Samitivej Hospital didn’t prove to be any better. In fact, it was worse. Security and a hospital administrator stopped me shortly after my arrival.
“You must make an appointment with the proper administrator,” she said, peering at me above her bifocals.
I wasn’t sure if she had a stick up her rear or had pulled the bun on her head too tightly. It was probably a combination of both.
“Employees are not allowed to talk to insurance representatives,” she said sternly.
“Can I talk to you?” I asked.
“No.”
“Aren’t you an administrator?”
“Yes, but you must talk to another administrator.”
“Can I talk this other person now?”
“No. That person is on holiday.”
Each response was delivered without that polished Thai smile.
“You give me your card and I will have them call you.”
“It’s a pressing issue. I don’t have the luxury of waiting.”
Silence followed, then a customary smile and eventually a hand showing me to the elevator. It was passive-aggressiveness at its finest.
Chapter 61
After I left Samitivej Hospital, I stopped for a bite to eat at a small noodle shop. I choose a small table on the sidewalk, under the awning and away from the other diners. Given that I had spent most of my time in air-conditioned buildings and vehicles, I hadn’t fully realized how sweltering the heat was that day. My blouse clung in all the familiar areas. While I waited for my noodles, I hoisted my hair into a makeshift bun using a plastic chopstick, dabbed myself with a napkin, and downed two cups of ice water.
Needless to say, my lack of progress had me frustrated. I could say with certainty that Amina wasn’t employed at Bumrungrad; there was a chance she worked at BNH; and as for Samitivej, I might as well have never visited because I got no indication either way. There was a real possibility that multiple trips to the same hospitals would be required for me to be able to cross them off the list. I had to wonder if I’d executed Akil a bit too early. I had always intended to do away with him, but only after I was sure I had what I needed from him.
My mood was that of newbie assassin on her first day of work, relegated to eating alone in the lunchroom. Nothing seemed to go as planned, and it was taking an inordinate amount of time to get results. But the worst part was that this was perfectly normal in my profession. I’d had contracts where I spent weeks meticulously planning only to have the operation go sideways from the start. But I adapted. I didn’t get bogged down with what I thought would happen but instead focused on what needed to be done. There was a goal, and there were many roads leading to it, but in this instance, I didn’t want to hear any of that.
Perhaps I was restless that day. Maybe I was too eager to find my daughter. Who could blame me? I had chased a tiny lead Kostas had given me from Paris to Bangkok. And each time I thought it would pay off, it changed course. It was like climbing to the top of a mountain only to realize what had seemed like the summit actually wasn’t.
I had just finished my bowl of noodles when Kostas rang my cell. “Please tell me you have good news,” I answered.
“You sound a little down. Are you still in Ho Chi Minh?”
“No. I was only there for about twenty-four hours. I’m in Bangkok. And it’s hotter than hot.”
I brought Kostas up to date on what had happened since my arrival in Vietnam.
“Wait, Akil is dead?”
“Yes. It’s unfortunate. He had a terrible accident and impaled himself. Poor thing.”
“I have a feeling that accident was premeditated.”
“Anyway. Amina Jelassi. Tell me you have something,” I said, wanting to move the conversation forward.
“I hate to say it, but I don’t. No criminal records, and she’s not a person of interest for the CIA or the authorities in France. I gave her name to a contact in Tunisia but honestly, I’m not hopeful. Amina probably lived a straight life and got herself innocently wrapped up in this mess.”
“I was afraid that might be the case.”
“How’s the search coming along?”
“Slow.”
“Too bad Akil had an accident. Maybe there was more information to be had.”
“He would have had an accident sooner or later.”
“Not to rain further on your parade, but how sure are you that he even gave you the right name?”
“I can’t be, but I don’t
think he had any more information to provide, and what he had told me thus far checked out.”
“Even if he had given you her real name, she could be using an alias or have a different name on her passport. It’s possible if she’s on the run.”
“I realize that,” I said, letting out a breath.
“Did you ever get a look at any of the nurses that day? Amina might look familiar.”
“Delacroix was the only person I had contact with before I was put under. I vaguely remember an anesthesiologist entering my room. At least I assumed that’s what she was. She was dressed in scrubs and wearing a mask.”
“And after the procedure? Still no interaction with the staff?”
“When I woke, it was late and the clinic had already closed. Only Delacroix was around, and he kept watch over me until I was able to leave. I didn’t think it was strange at the time. I had hired Delacroix to perform a very private birth. Interacting with him and only him was what I had always intended. I did hear voices outside my room before giving birth and caught glimpses of staffers outside my door every time Delacroix came in and out of my room.”
“Chin up. There’s still the possibility that the nurse you saw might be Amina. Plus, in the big scope of things, you know more now than you did a few weeks ago.”
“I know that the Wolf is executing everyone connected to the kidnapping. I’m not so sure that’s a plus. If he succeeds, it’ll only make my search harder.”
“Look, I’m keeping my ears to the ground on this Wolf guy. I’m doing what I can.”
“Thank you.”
There was a pause before Kostas spoke again. “Have you had a chance to sample the Thai cuisine?”
“I just finished a bowl of roast pork with noodles.”
“That sounds tasty. If you get a chance, try yum naem kao tod. It’s a salad made from fermented pork sausage and mashed-up, deep-fried rice balls, fresh ginger, lime, basil, peanuts, and chili. It’s the perfect combination of crunchy, tangy, spicy goodness.”
Contract: Sicko (Sei Assassin Thriller Book 2) Page 17
