When an arrow severed his spinal cord, he tumbled into the second man, whose life, in turn, was extinguished by the shaft’s companion two seconds later.
A figure tore out of the doorway of one of the remaining buildings, running as hard as he could for the stream. Jet followed his progress, with the softness of the arrow’s flight next to her cheek, and then, adjusting for his speed and the distance, released the bowstring with a twang.
She watched as the man dropped, having almost made it to the jungle’s edge.
Jet waited, ears alert for any threats, but heard nothing. She could make out the outlines of the buildings as clear as day through the goggles and saw no one.
Then the tarp of a hut drew open, and Hawker stepped out, hands in the air.
“I’m unarmed,” he called in English, and then in Thai.
She studied him, waiting for any trick.
He took another step forward, rain streaming down his face. “I repeat. I’m unarmed.”
Jet scanned the surrounding structures warily but saw nothing. With a fluid motion, she dropped the bow and shrugged the quiver off, placing it and the P90 on the ground beside her, then un-holstered the silenced Beretta and moved to the first building, ignoring Hawker for the moment. She peered through the back window and confirmed that it was empty, then repeated the process on the next two.
“Move towards the fire,” she called and saw the surprise play across his face upon hearing her voice. It never ceased to amaze her how many men believed that their violent world was only inhabited by males.
He took cautious, plodding steps, his bare feet squishing on the muddy ground, before stopping ten feet from the subdued flames.
Hawker studied Thet’s corpse with interest. “Arrows? You used arrows?”
Jet could have sworn she saw the beginnings of a smile. Just a trace, fleeting, then gone.
She moved towards him, gun trained on his head, and watched as he registered her on the periphery of his vision.
“Keep your hands above your head.”
“I will.”
She reached to the small of her back and withdrew a pair of black anodized handcuffs, then tossed them at his feet, her pistol unwavering.
“Put those on.”
“Hands in front or behind?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? Behind. Turn so I can see you putting them on. Don’t try anything or I’ll blow a kneecap off, and then it’s going to be really painful for you to ride out of here.”
“Is that what you’re thinking we’ll do? Ride out of here? That’ll be kind of hard with no horses, won’t it?”
“The cuffs,” she said.
“Okay. Here we go.”
“Nice and slow.”
“The only way I know.” He lowered his arms, knelt to scoop up the cuffs, and stood, holding them out so she could see them.
“Night vision. Of course. Should have known,” he muttered to himself, then slid a cuff open and secured it around his wrist.
“Now the other one.”
“I hope I get points for courtesy and cooperation.” He locked the cuff in place, then waggled his fingers. “There. I’m no longer a menace to society.”
She inched closer to him. “Now turn around.”
He complied, peering through the gloom at her. “Holy shit. Is it just you? You did all this?”
“How many did you think it would take?”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable. You want a job?”
“Very funny. Now we’re going to head over to the horses. Think you can manage that?”
“Sure. But why? Am I going to give them a eulogy?”
She looked past him to the creek. Both animals were down. The wild shots from the two frantic guards had hit them.
“Damn. Looks like we’re walking out, then.”
His eyes moved, and he looked over her shoulder, past her. She didn’t fall for it.
“Don’t bother. That’s the oldest trick in the world,” she said, her gun pointing steadily at him.
“I think you should reconsider your perspective of old dogs and their tricks,” he said, and this time he did smile.
“Not a chance. Now before we go any further, where are the diamonds?”
“You think I’d have them in a hut in the middle of nowhere?”
“Where are they?”
“Well, two of them are right behind you,” he said.
“I told you. Stop screwing around, wasting my time. It won’t work.”
“Oh, I think this time it will. Don’t you, Matt?” Lap Pu’s voice purred softly from behind her.
Chapter 24
“Drop the gun. Now,” Pu ordered.
Jet did as he instructed.
“Now turn around.”
Pu was holding a small pistol – it looked like a Walther PPK.
“Take the night vision off.”
She slowly reached up, flipped the goggles out of her field of vision, then lifted them off her head.
Pu’s eyes widened. “Well, well. If it isn’t a pretty face from my past.”
“What the hell’s going on here, Pu?” Matt demanded.
His eyes swiveled to Matt. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Where are the diamonds?” Jet repeated, her tone even.
“Why, my dear, around his neck, of course,” Pu said. She looked over her shoulder to where Matt stood and saw a small leather pouch dangling from a leather lash circling his neck. “At least some of them are. Isn’t that right, Matt?”
“Pu, cut the shit. Get the key from her and un-cuff me. You. Whatever your name is. Give me the key,” Matt said.
“Ah, not so fast,” Pu warned.
“Pu. What the hell are you doing?” Matt asked, his voice somewhat diminished.
“Thinking. I was wondering how much I see helping you sell them, versus what’s around your neck. That’s all.” Pu’s English seemed to improve markedly as his greedy eyes considered the predicament.
“You’re kidding me, right? After all we’ve been through? You would screw me over this?”
“No hard feelings. What you got in there, anyway? Twenty of them? Fifty?” Pu asked.
“None of your business.”
“Oh, I think so, my friend. Very much so. You answer now.”
A blinding flash of lightning seared across the sky, and the trees shivered from the boom of thunder. Pu flinched involuntarily, and for a brief second, took his eyes off Jet.
That was all she needed.
The throwing knife flew at him in a blur, stabbing through his esophagus with a wet thwack. His pupils dilated as he gasped a protest, groped for the knife handle, and pulled it free. Blood spurted from the gash as he dropped the gun. Jet leveled a roundhouse kick and knocked him to the ground, his palsied fingers still clutching the knife, staring at it in fascinated awe, holding his free hand to his neck in an effort to stop the life from streaming out of him.
“That’s for all the children you’ve ruined,” she hissed, then kicked him in the groin. “And that’s for me, you piece of shit.”
He rolled into a fetal position and convulsed, once, twice, and then shuddered and lay still.
She leaned over, picked up her Beretta, and trained it on Matt again.
“I’m going to ask one more time, nicely, and then I’ll start shooting pieces off you. Where are the diamonds?”
He hesitated. “I have some in the bag around my neck. Five million worth. The rest are in a safe place.”
“Not good enough. Where are they?”
“In a bank vault in Bangkok.”
She nodded. “Then it sounds like we’re going to Bangkok. Walking, for the most part. Hope you’re in better shape than you look.”
Jet stepped closer to him and pulled the leather thong from around his neck, weighing the heft of the diamonds in the pouch before sliding it over her own head. Matt watched her with a stony countenance, his five-day growth of beard dripping beads of water.
“Then it’s really just you? Nobody e
lse?”
“I’d say that was enough, wouldn’t you?” She picked up the night vision goggles and put them on again, then walked over to the P90 and retrieved it, pausing briefly before also grabbing the bow and arrows. She slid them over her shoulders and adjusted her backpack and then turned to face him.
“Come on. Let’s get going.”
“You realize that trying to walk out of here in the dead of night in a rainstorm is going to be pretty close to impossible, right? These hills are teeming with drug smugglers who would kill you just as soon as look at you. I didn’t have all this protection for no reason.”
“Did you a lot of good, didn’t it? Come on. Move it.”
He sighed. “You want me in front or in back? I can’t see anything, so it might be better if I followed you.”
“That works for me. But a word of advice. I just killed twenty of your men and didn’t break a sweat. If you try anything, and I do mean anything, I’ll cut your ears off and then work my way south. Nothing that will kill you or keep you from walking, but you’ll wish you were dead. Is that clear?”
“I understand. I try anything, you filet me.”
“Good. I’d say there’s the basis of a relationship here.”
Without another word, she set off into the jungle, Matt trailing her by three yards.
As they moved up the mountain trail, the rain slowed to a drizzle and then eventually stopped altogether. Soon they hit a rhythm, his boots trudging behind her, occasionally stumbling over a root or a rock. She figured that they could make it twelve to fifteen miles by dawn if they kept up a decent pace, although parts of the terrain would slow them, and they needed to be on guard for unfriendlies sharing the jungle paths.
Matt tried engaging her several times, but she shushed him, preferring to keep her ears tuned for threats rather than idle banter. She hadn’t captured him because she wanted a new friend. He was a dead man, and as soon as she had all the diamonds, she’d formalize it with a bullet.
When the first light peeped through the tree tops, they stopped to rest near a creek. She performed a brief reconnaissance of the surrounding area to ensure they were alone, then sat down cross-legged by the water and pulled two breakfast bars from her backpack.
“You hungry?” she asked, after wolfing hers down.
“And thirsty. I could use some water.”
“Is the water in the stream safe to drink?”
“Depends on how brave you’re feeling. I boil it. Lot of parasites around here. I don’t fancy having my organs burrowed through or used as a nest…”
She rooted around in her pack and retrieved two empty liter water bottles, then dropped a tablet in each before filling them from the stream. It took a few minutes for the pills to dissolve, and when she shook the bottles, the water looked milky. She took a sniff and chugged hers before moving to where Matt was leaning against a tree trunk.
“Which do you want first? The bar or the water?” she asked.
“Bar.”
She unwrapped it and held it up, fixing him with a cautious glare. “You try to bite me, I’ll rupture one of your eardrums just for fun, and you’ll spend the next week in constant pain.”
“I wasn’t going to bite you. Unless you wanted me to.” He tried a smile. She noted that he had a certain craggy charm and wasn’t a bad-looking man, overall, with his lean frame and chiseled features. Pity she’d be executing him soon to get her daughter back.
“I’m glad to see you’re keeping your spirits up,” she said and stuffed the first third of the bar into his mouth. He took a bite and chewed it methodically, eyes never leaving her face.
“You’re not agency, are you?” he asked between mouthfuls.
“Doesn’t matter, does it?”
“How did they rope you into this? What did they tell you?”
“Shut up and eat.”
He finished the bar and then nodded towards the water. “How was it?”
“Like cat piss. In a good way.”
“Can’t say as I’ve ever had the pleasure.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.”
She held the bottle to his mouth, and he drank greedily from it, finishing it within thirty seconds.
“Boy, you weren’t kidding.”
“I don’t kid.”
“How many more tablets do you have? Enough to last us three more days?”
“It won’t take that long to make it back to Thailand.”
“Don’t bet on it. The stretch from here to the border is rough going if you don’t have a horse. I’ve done it enough times to know. Even in the best of circumstances, it sucks. And with the rains, it’s not close to being good.”
“I have enough.”
He grunted. “And what about when I have to use the bathroom?”
“I guess I’ll get a show.”
“Did my ex put you up to this?”
She said nothing.
“Seriously. How do I attend to my, erm, necessities, with my hands shackled behind my back?”
“Very carefully.”
“The reason I ask is because it’s going to be that time soon.”
She sighed, annoyed, and then stood as she felt around in her pocket for a key.
“I’ll lock your hands in front of you for now. But again, one wrong move…”
“And you’ll skin me like an eel. I got it.”
She helped him to his feet and unlocked one wrist, then stepped back, her pistol leveled at his head.
“Stay facing the tree. Move your hands to your front, slowly, and lock the cuff.”
She could see him tense, almost imperceptibly, and she prepared for an assault, chambering a round in the Beretta with a percussive snick. His shoulders relaxed when he registered the distinctive sound, and he obligingly moved his hands in front of him and cuffed himself.
“Very good. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she asked.
“I can’t believe you didn’t have one in the chamber.”
“That was for your benefit.” She glanced down to where a shiny 9mm bullet lay on the matted grass.
“I kind of figured.”
“I’m going to toss you some nylon cord. I want you to wrap it around each ankle, twice, and secure it so you have enough room to shuffle, but not enough to get into trouble.” She reached into her backpack with her free hand and pulled out a fifty-foot length of line and tossed the bundle to him, then watched as he did as she’d instructed. Once he was finished, she nodded.
“Try to avoid hitting the rope when you go.”
“I see you’ve done this before.”
“Don’t move more than twenty feet away. Knock yourself out. Then come back, and we’ll reverse the whole process.”
He grinned. “Bit cumbersome, isn’t it?”
“Life is filled with challenges. Maybe I’ll make you dance for me next.”
He lumbered over to a patch of plants and busied himself with his business as she picked up the bullet and replaced it in the Beretta’s clip. When he returned, she cuffed his hands behind him again, then sat down by the stream.
“We’ll rest for a little while, and then start in again. I’d advise you to get some shut-eye if you can. We won’t be stopping again until nightfall.”
“We won’t be able to keep that pace up. I’m just warning you.”
“Thanks for the well-intentioned advice.”
They drowsed in the heat, and then after an hour, Jet popped up, appearing as refreshed as if she’d enjoyed a full night’s rest. She nudged Matt awake with her boot.
“Let’s get moving. You take the lead now that it’s daylight.”
She powered on her GPS and got a bearing, then put it back into her backpack, along with the two water bottles she’d refilled.
As much as she hated to admit it, Matt was probably right about their progress.
It would be almost impossible to keep up a decent pace all day.
But they had to try.
As he shuffled down the trail, Je
t shifted the P90 into fire-ready position and followed him, letting him get five yards ahead so he couldn’t easily try anything now that he could see. She wondered what would cause a man who seemed relatively decent to choose a life with sex slavers and heroin dealers, and then banished the thought. It wasn’t her problem. And his whole demeanor could be an act. She’d seen firsthand what Pu’s world was like, and any friend of his was unworthy of her sympathy. Not that she had any.
As to his stealing the diamonds, she had no opinion on that. It was between him and the CIA. Although a part of her bore him resentment – if he hadn’t stolen them, she wouldn’t have had her daughter kidnapped and be trudging through this miserable backwater.
He stumbled and almost face-planted into the trail, but caught himself at the last moment and continued forward.
The hard part of the mission was done. She had him. Now all she needed to do was get him to the bank so they could get the diamonds, and she was home free.
Although a niggling part of her didn’t believe for a second it would be that simple.
Nothing ever was.
Chapter 25
They stopped at five o’clock, this time at the banks of a larger stream, swollen to almost river-size by the rain, which had started again a few hours earlier. They were both soaked completely through, but at least it was warm – the temperature felt like a steady ninety degrees throughout the day, with all the attendant mugginess high humidity brought.
The mosquitoes swarmed as the evening wore on, and they paused to spray themselves again before continuing their forced march. She’d never seen anything like the bugs, not even in Belize – known as the mosquito coast for good reason. But compared to Myanmar, Belize was Toronto; the jungle around them was literally swarming with every variety of bloodsucking parasite known to man, as Matt had been quick to point out during one of their hushed discussions.
They hadn’t come across another living soul all day, but Matt seemed preoccupied with listening for others in the jungle, giving her the distinct feeling that he hadn’t been joking about the drug syndicates and human traffickers being their biggest obstacle to making it out alive.
She repeated the ritual with the breakfast bars and the water, then they sat in the shadow of a rock overhang, which provided slim shelter from the downpour, but more than the trees did. They listened together to the steady drumming of rain on the leaves, a hail of precipitation that seemed to be never-ending.
JET II - Betrayal (JET #2) Page 17
