Phantom Pearl

by Monica McCabe

  She groaned. It was a beautiful sound. She was coming around.

  “Oscar,” he shouted next.

  “Here,” came a croaking answer.

  “You okay?” he asked without leaving Riki’s side.

  “Hell no,” Oscar answered. “I’m filing a complaint on this airline.”

  Relief flooded Dallas. They’d made it. The question was for how long. They needed to get out of here before the Yakuza came to check on their handiwork.

  “We’re dead, aren’t we?” Riki asked.

  “Not yet,” he replied. “Can you move?”

  After Dallas helped tug her leg out from under a crossbeam, she pushed herself to a sitting position. He shoved a heavy pipe out of the way for her to lean back against the wall.

  “Can you flex your ankle?” he asked.

  She wiggled it back and forth. “It’s sore, but I think okay.”

  He couldn’t believe how lucky they were. The poor plane had crashed twice, however. That seemed wrong somehow. He got up and moved over to what used to be a window and peered out.

  “Any sign of the bastards?” Oscar had managed to stand and was brushing dirt and leaves out of his hair.

  Nothing but wilderness as far as he could see. If the Yakuza were still around, they weren’t putting in an appearance. “All quiet on the front.” Which only made him nervous.

  “You’re hurt.” Concern filled Riki’s eyes as she joined him at the window.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’m not buying it.” She pulled a splinter of wood away from the wound. “It looks painful.”

  Holding a sympathy card might prove useful. “It hurts a little,” he admitted.

  She shook her head. “We need something to wrap around that.”

  Oscar had limped over, but lifted something out of a pile of rubble and handed it over to her as he joined them. “First-aid kit. Fix him up quick.”

  “There isn’t time,” Dallas said. “We need to be moving.”

  Riki steered him over to a bench and pushed him down. “Not until we cover that cut with gauze,” she said. “Oscar can keep watch, tell us what he sees.”

  “What if he’s hurt, too? He could be bleeding. Probably a severe brain injury.”

  A snort sounded from the direction of the window. “Don’t sound hopeful, mate. It’ll take more than a bloody RPG to bring this old bird down.”

  He knew a losing battle when he saw one. And she was right. He didn’t need to be traipsing through the woods with an open wound. Dallas pulled away what was left of his sleeve and settled in for her ministrations. “Make it quick.”

  She dug into the first-aid kit and came up with several alcohol pads and a package of white gauze. She ripped open a couple pads and began to clean up what she could. It stung like hell, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not after what they’d been through. Not after the price Craig had paid. He frowned and surreptitiously glanced around.

  “Craig’s not in here,” she said softly. “I think he went with the tail section.”

  Dallas couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he said nothing. Instead, he watched her concentrate on the job and the meticulous way she doctored his arm. He’d been fascinated with her from day one, but the woman in front of him totally contradicted his expectation. He’d always been amazed by her self-confidence and impressed she could fight better than a lot of men twice her size. Now he could add natural beauty to the list. She didn’t need makeup to be beautiful. In fact, she should never wear it. They’d been through the ringer out here—rained on, shot at, beaten up—and despite mud, scratches, and dirty, torn clothes, she had a calm self-assured serenity that he envied.

  She’d moved on to wrapping the bandage around his arm, gently smoothing the gauze with each turn. They didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t bring himself to make her stop.

  “We slid about sixty or seventy meters down the mountain,” Oscar said from the window. “I don’t see anyone either. My guess is they took what they came for and left.”

  Dallas frowned. He needed to stop them before they got to Japan. There’s no way he’d return to Seattle empty-handed. Again. But they had to get off this mountain first.

  Riki tied off the ends of the bandage. “All done.”

  He stood and helped her up. “What weapons do we have left?”

  They pooled their resources. Four handguns, two hand grenades, a blade, and nowhere near enough bullets.

  “I’ve more in my backpack,” Oscar said. “It’s up there.” He pointed out the window.

  Going back to the scene of the crime had big risk, but he didn’t see that they had any choice. He went where the Phantom Pearl went. And the starting point was up.

  “I’ll run surveillance first,” Dallas said. “You two stay here until I get back.”

  Oscar’s “Like hell!” was nearly drowned out by Riki’s “Absolutely not!”

  He figured it wouldn’t go over, but it was worth a try. “Both of you, too stubborn for your own good. Fine then. Gather what we can salvage for the hike back, in case there’s nothing to find up there.”

  Oscar found an old rucksack, emptied out the pamphlets and memos, then sifted through the mess in search of anything useful. “Hey! A granola bar. Nice.” He tossed it in the bag along with a tightly rolled wool blanket.

  Riki added the first-aid kit and a slightly abused aluminum case.

  “What’s that?” Dallas asked.

  She lifted the lid and he stared down at two long-barreled pistols. Oscar made a choking sound behind him. “Antique German Lugers?” Dallas asked in surprise.

  “Craig found them,” she said softly. “He nearly wept.” She closed the lid, then wrapped the case in one of the many wool blankets on board. “I’m taking them.”

  Dallas didn’t think they needed the added weight, but understood the emotion behind her decision. This plane was a historical treasure trove, everywhere he looked there were things he wanted to take back for study. Especially the memos, pamphlets, and military orders. But that was a project for another day.

  “We’ve got to get Craig’s backpack, too.” She rubbed the back of her neck like it ached. “I promised to deliver it to his daughter, Marcy. She’s blind, and there’s something in it he wants her to have.”

  Dallas hadn’t known Craig long, but he owed him that one small favor. “Let’s hope it’s still there,” he replied. “Along with everything else.”

  “Shall we give it a go, mates?” Oscar asked.

  Dallas peered out the window and saw nothing but green trees and blue sky. No sign of movement, no warning gunfire. It looked clear, which meant he didn’t trust it. But this plane no longer offered much in the way of safety anymore.

  “We go in stealth mode,” Dallas said.

  “Goes without saying,” Oscar replied.

  Riki had moved near what used to be the front of the plane and was staring out into the woods. He still wasn’t sure they were alone, but before he could tell her to wait, she stepped outside.

  “That woman is going to give me a heart attack one day,” Dallas mumbled and immediately went after her.

  There were no assailants, no gunfire, just birds calling out to each other as they made their silent way back to where they’d started their tumble. They were sitting ducks if Yakuza still lurked, easy targets to pick off, and Dallas hated the feeling. Fortunately, it didn’t last long. The climb took about ten minutes, twelve tops.

  Riki ducked down behind the trunk of a fallen tree, and they joined her. It was perfect cover as they surveyed the site, but unnecessary. If Yakuza were here, they would’ve been had before they’d left the plane. But protocol and caution ruled in this game.

  “I think we’re alone,” Oscar stated.

  There was no doubt. Nothing stirred
but the wind.

  One by one they rounded the tree trunk and returned to where they’d stood less than a half hour ago. A quick search found Dallas’s and Oscar’s backpacks right where they left them. And Craig’s still lay next to the mangled engine housing they were using as a table top.

  The only thing missing was the plane, Riki’s bag, and Phantom Pearl.

  Chapter 20

  The hike out of the mountains went quicker than the hike in and, by some miracle, their vehicles were untouched. Either the Yakuza didn’t come through this way, or they were so confident of their victory, they left the vehicles alone as a way to flaunt their win and disgrace the enemy.

  As long as they had a ride back to Cooktown, Riki didn’t care. The bad guys might have won the battle, but they hadn’t won the war. She wasn’t even close to giving up.

  It was pushing six in the evening when they pulled into the parking lot at the Sovereign Resort, and she’d never been happier to see a hotel. More than anything else on the planet, she wanted a long, hot, soaking shower, real food, then undisturbed sleep for hours.

  Oscar pulled into the resort first, and Dallas followed suit, parking Craig’s borrowed Land Cruiser next to his friend’s Jeep. Riki wearily climbed out. They were dirty, torn, bandaged, and limping, war zone casualties that received a couple of sideways glances from other parking lot inhabitants. Riki ignored them as she rounded to the back of the Cruiser and opened the hatch.

  “We need to come up with a plan,” Dallas said as he pulled their backpacks to the edge of the tailgate. “Let’s meet in one hour. Riki’s room. It’s the largest. We’ll order room service and figure out our next steps.”

  “Deal,” Oscar said as he grabbed his backpack. “I’ll call Marla at the airport. Maybe she can get a lead on what direction Cho was flying.” With a salute, he immediately headed toward the pool garden path.

  Riki and Dallas did the same, but at a much slower pace. “You’ll still be here in an hour, right?” Dallas asked her. “You’re not going to disappear on me?”

  Not this time. She had no idea where to go. She needed his help and wasn’t afraid to admit it. What scared her was that, against all good sense, she wanted to cash in on his promised rain check. That wouldn’t happen if she left him behind. Besides, she wasn’t going anywhere without a shower first.

  “I’ll be there, Dallas.”

  “You’ve promised that before,” he replied.

  It bothered her that he trusted her that little. It was understandable, but she didn’t like it. They entered the back gate to the pool, which was mostly empty due to the dinner hour. The surrounding gardens were awash in color and serenity, the coconut palms lightly rustling in a warm breeze. She soaked it all up, using it to soothe a fractured psyche.

  “We are not the same people we were then,” she explained. “A lot has happened in the last forty-eight hours.”

  That was indisputable. Her very foundation had been rocked, and she had precious little time to re-evaluate her direction. The only thing she knew for certain was everything had changed.

  “We started as enemies,” he said tiredly. “Now we’re collaborators. How this will end is anyone’s guess.”

  She hadn’t thought about it ending, hadn’t considered much beyond her next move. But he was right—the quest would end. That realization disturbed her as much as knowing he didn’t trust her. The truth was, they were back in the real world, and the temporary truce had an expiration date. That knowledge came with a hard-hitting sense of melancholy.

  “We have to find the Pearl.” It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but it was relevant.

  This wasn’t over yet. Dallas had encouraged them to work together from the start, but logic said his motivation stemmed solely from his job. Once he had possession of the Pearl, he’d go back to Seattle. Or she’d get a hold of it, give it to Kai, and they’d be at odds again.

  When they reached her room, she slid the keycard to unlock the door. Dallas stepped in behind her and set Craig’s backpack against the wall by the door.

  “I have good sources,” he was saying. “We’ll pick up the scent shortly. I’ll make a couple phone calls right after I clean up.”

  She dropped her pack on the floor by the dresser and tried not to think of the call she intended to make as soon as Dallas left. Or the prospect of their partnership coming to an end. Instead she took the easy road and focused on the dirty bandage on his arm. “I’ll put fresh gauze on your cut once you return.”

  He didn’t answer, just nodded his head in agreement and stared at her. About the time she began to feel the urge to fidget, Dallas closed the distance between them and stopped directly in front of her. She didn’t step away, didn’t move at all except to tilt her head back enough to stare him in the eye.

  “When you call him,” Dallas said, “don’t tell him you know.”

  Of course, he knew she’d be making contact. There was no point denying it. “He at least deserves the right to explain.”

  “Perhaps,” he argued. “But if what Craig said was true about Menita being owned by Yakuza, haven’t you wondered why he sent you after the Pearl? He knew their operatives were in play. Why would he risk your life, pit you against them, if he intended to hand it over anyway?”

  She couldn’t answer that. It made no sense.

  “I’ve been going over and over it in my head,” Dallas continued. “Craig said Menita needed it to pay off a debt. It’s the price of his freedom. Something strange is at work here, and we’re missing a piece of the puzzle. You need to be careful what you say to him.”

  She wanted to defend Kai and the friendship they’d shared over the years. She didn’t want to accept he would deceive her, put her at risk for his own gain.

  “We both hate Yakuza,” she said, though more to convince herself. “I don’t understand why he’d fight against them if he’s working for them. Why wouldn’t he let Cho find Phantom Pearl?”

  “If it’s the price of his freedom,” Dallas reasoned, “he needs to be the one to hand it over.”

  That sounded right. “If ground troops get to it first, he loses.” How had she not seen the signs? “I want to know why.”

  “Craig told me there was more to the story. That it gets worse.” Dallas scrubbed both hands over his face. Frustration and exhaustion filled his expression. “Before he could reveal what that was, he was shot.”

  She closed her eyes against the reminder of her friend’s death, of the debt she owed him, and how her life was spiraling out of control.

  “We’re dealing with some bad players,” Dallas continued. “Cho. Shimshi. You have to know that Menita is using you, like he did your father. Don’t let it end the same way.”

  Pain ripped into her. He had to be wrong. It wasn’t like that. “Please, stop.” She didn’t want to hear anymore and covered her ears with her palms.

  He instantly gathered her in his arms and held her against his chest. It startled her. She wasn’t used to being comforted, but she didn’t protest.

  “I’m sorry, Riki,” he whispered.

  She didn’t reply, just stood in the circle of his arms. Tension drained from her, and she gave into the urge to rest her head on his shoulder and wrap her arms around his waist. It felt oddly peaceful. She should be wary, just not right now.

  “You will have to face him, but don’t do it today.” His arms tightened around her. “Be careful. Until you know for certain what you’re up against, don’t call him out.”

  It was wise council, she knew that, but it hurt. Beyond anything she could believe possible. Everything was upside down. The man who she’d always believed had her back didn’t. And the man she’d avoided for two years was now helping her, concerned for her safety. Nothing made sense any longer.

  The only thing that felt right was Dallas holding her like this, his arms surrounding her protectively.

&nbs
p; “I’ll watch what I say,” she promised and stepped away from his warmth. She immediately missed it. “Go shower. Come back in an hour. We’ve got plans to make.”

  He stared at her for a moment, but accepted her words. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said.

  She smiled. “I’m too tired. Now go….”

  Dallas lifted his backpack from the floor and headed for the door. “Lock this after I leave.”

  “Yessir.”

  She did as he asked, but the sound of the bolt sliding home felt like a trap door closing on her. She turned away and grabbed her phone. There wasn’t much battery life left, so she sat on the floor next to the electric outlet and plugged in the charger. A fifteen-hour time difference made it roughly nine a.m. the following morning in California. She punched in Kai’s number.

  He answered on the first ring. “Reika. Where are you?”

  “Still in Australia.”

  “Did you get the Pearl?”

  Should she read anything into the fact that his first questions were related to the treasure and not her well-being? Kai was literal, not one prone to emotional displays. She was on the phone with him, she was well trained, and obviously alive. So, no.

  “I had it,” she proclaimed. “But not any longer.”

  “What do you mean? What happened? Where is it?”

  “We found the plane, and the Pearl was inside. But we were ambushed by Ken Cho’s men, and Craig was killed. The Yakuza now have her. I managed to return to Cooktown.”

  There were a few seconds of silence as he processed her report. “That is most unfortunate. It should have been a simple extraction.”

  “How did Cho know about the plane?” she asked.

  “Yakuza spies are everywhere,” he replied in a non-answer kind of way. “Can you get it back?”

  She understood it was important to Kai, now more than ever. But Craig had sacrificed his life for this mission. Why weren’t there a few words of sorrow or regret? Kai had known him for years. They had been friends once upon a time.

  “It won’t be easy,” she replied. “But I’m working on it and should know something soon.”