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  Wallis smiled pleasantly in return.

  “Yes,” he said, “That will do just fine.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The Malacca Strait, Thailand

  It was an hour past dawn in the Malacca Strait, three-quarters of the way from Phuket Bay to Langkawi Island, the rain-storm continuing unabated, and the bow of the Avatar shoving the waves aside with bone-jarring impacts, when Quince Lanyard and Jack Gavin decided it was time to rest.

  They’d been searching for a good spot to anchor — ideally a place well out of the shipping lanes that offered some concealment from the ever-present coastal patrol boats — when they spotted the cove on the leeward side of a small island no more than three kilometers off the southern Thailand coastline.

  Ten minutes later, Quince Lanyard set the bow anchor, shut off the engine, took one last look around — noting with some degree of satisfaction that he could barely see the shoreline through the wind-swirled gusts of rain — and followed Gavin down into the main cabin.

  Once inside, the two men secured the doors and windows, poured themselves cups of steaming coffee, and then sat in the cushioned bench seats surrounding a combination cabinet and coffee table where they’d already laid out the assault rifles and cleaning kits.

  “You’re looking better — a lot less green,” Lanyard commented. “Must be getting your sea legs. Want something to eat?”

  “Maybe later, after this bloody storm dies down,” Gavin muttered.

  “It might not get any better than this for a while,” Lanyard pointed out.

  “In that case, I’ll settle for an IV-pack and coffee. You think that bastard Kai’s going to be cooperative?” Gavin asked as the two men began to field-strip the assault rifles with long-practiced motions.

  “No, I think he’s going to try to double-cross us,” Lanyard replied. “Be different if all three of us were going to be there, but we’re not. You and I aren’t going to scare him; not like Marcus does.”

  “Probably a lot of truth to that.” Gavin nodded thoughtfully. He started to say something else when the satellite cell phone secured to Lanyard’s belt began to ring. He pulled the cell phone out of its secure holster, examined the screen, and smiled.

  “Speaking of the boss — ” Lanyard brought the phone up to his ear. “Gecko-Two, go.”

  “This is Gecko-One. I need to talk with both of you.”

  “Hold one.” Lanyard walked over to a wall console, inserted the satellite phone into a slot, and pressed a now-glowing blue button. “Gecko-Two here.”

  “And Gecko-Three, both of us still afloat in the bloody galleon,” Gavin added. “Can you hear us?”

  “You’re coming in fine.” Wallis’ voice echoed in the small cabin. “Confirm encryption circuitry is engaged at your end.”

  Lanyard examined the wall console and verified the second light was glowing — a steady bright green.

  “That’s affirmative. Encryption is engaged at our end,” Lanyard confirmed.

  “Good. There’s been a new development,” Wallis said. “It seems Yak and Kai have been conspiring to take over our operation. That’s probably what caused all the commotion last night.”

  “So Yak was the one who turned us in to the Thai Rangers?” Gavin asked, the skepticism evident in his voice.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Wallis replied. “He seemed surprised to hear about the appearance of the raid team, and Choon knew nothing about it either. All things considered, I’m assuming it was Kai who jumped the gun on his own. That would make more sense because Yak knew we’d worked Hateley in the Khlong Saeng Preserve previously. Kai would only have known our general location; which is basically what the map we found on the dead Rangers — the one with the entire Reservoir area circled in red — indicates.”

  “Do we know who Kai was talking to?”

  “Probably Major Preithat, the local Forestry Division commander for the Phuket region, and Choon’s immediate supervisor.”

  “Ah, the plot thickens,” Lanyard muttered.

  “Yes, it does,” Wallis agreed.

  “So where does that leave us?” Gavin asked.

  “Still in deep shit, but the tactical situation is simplified,” Wallis replied. “Yak’s out of the picture. He and Boon-Nam created a plausible diversion for us by shooting each other with Jack’s and my pistols. Eventually, the Thai crime lab should link those weapons with the four Rangers and a few other recently-departed souls; and, with any luck, the case will be closed.”

  “Good on old Yak.” Gavin chuckled appreciatively.

  “How much time do you think we have before the police trip across Yak’s body?” Lanyard asked.

  “If we’re lucky, they won’t know anything about his situation until early morning tomorrow, when the maintenance crews arrive,” Wallis said, “but don’t count on it.”

  “We’ll finish our business with Kai and be on our way,” Lanyard agreed. “What about our buddy Choon?”

  “He proved to be equally useful.”

  “It’s about time that fancy bugger did something… hey, wait a minute, did you say Boon-Nam? Boon-Nam the bloody assassin?” Lanyard’s eyebrows rose. “How does that bastard fit into all of this?”

  “Apparently a last-minute addition,” Wallis replied. “Yak hired him this morning to keep an eye on me during our breakfast meeting; which pretty much confirms the theory that Yak didn’t know about the Rangers heading our way, or he’d have hired Boon-Nam to be watching out for us days ago.”

  “Which still leaves one bloody bastard in the mix,” Gavin said. “Unfortunately, it’s the one we we’ve been counting on to ship that cat to Seattle.”

  “Change of plans,” Wallis said. “I’ve arranged for a new shipping point. You and Quince are going to be doing a bit of cruising for the next few days.”

  “Where to?” Lanyard asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

  “Darwin.”

  “Oh bloody hell,” Gavin whispered under his breath.

  “What was that?” Wallis asked.

  “Jack was expressing his enthusiasm for the new plan,” Lanyard said, smiling at his dismayed partner. “We haven’t had much time for fishing lately.”

  “I’m figuring about thirty-two hundred miles if you take the Strait down through the Java Sea,” Wallis said. “At twenty-six knots, you should be able to make that in a couple of weeks, if you don’t spend too much time fishing; figure on three if you take the Indian Ocean route. Weather predictions look favorable, and either route’s fine with me. I’ll deal with Hateley and the change in delivery schedule.”

  “So we don’t need Kai and his bloody pirates anymore?” Gavin asked.

  “No, I think it's time our association with these lads came to a proper end,” Wallis said. “The meet’s scheduled for midnight tonight at Ko Tanga. Pass on my best regards, and try not to attract too much attention in the process; that Ranger station on Rawi is only twenty miles away. Gecko-One, out.”

  Lanyard and Gavin looked at each other.

  “Two bloody weeks on this tub, all because that bastard Kai opened his bloody yap,” Gavin muttered. “The bloke is definitely going to pay.”

  “Which is undoubtedly what he has in mind for us,” Lanyard pointed out. “In which case, he’s going to have a surprise waiting for him.”

  Lanyard disappeared into his stateroom, and came back with the five-foot-long waterproof Pelican case.

  Gavin’s eyebrows rose. “You really think we’re going to need that to deal with a handful of bloody third-world pirates?”

  Lanyard shrugged as he knelt down next to the thick plastic case, unsnapped the locks, opened the case, carefully removed a new 25mm M109 semiautomatic payload rifle, and began to examine the glistening weapon — a modern and even more lethal version of the U.S. Military’s. 50-caliber M107sniper rifle.

  After a few moments, he set the stubby weapon aside and picked up one of the low-velocity 1-inch diameter cartridges that had proven in trials to be two-and-a-hal
f times as destructive to armor, vehicles and barricades as a. 50-caliber armor-piercing round.

  “Tell you what, Gavin, me lad, you and I may not scare that crazy bastard Kai, but I’ll wager a pint this little fellow will.”

  CHAPTER 6

  International Customs at the Bangkok International Airport, Thailand

  Special Agent Gedimin Bulatt waited patiently for the new customs officer to relieve her counterpart at the booth; and then continued to wait as the new officer took her time adjusting the position of the monitor, keyboard, stamps and ink pads to her liking.

  As he continued to stand behind the bright line in the floor, Bulatt glanced at his watch again and wondered for at least the tenth time that morning why his office had suddenly diverted him from his planned flight back home, and re-booked his ticket to Bangkok. Someone would be meeting him at Bangkok International; that was all he knew.

  Ah well, he thought philosophically, I’ve never been to Thailand; might as well make the best of it.

  Finally, the new customs officer looked up and motioned for Bulatt to step forward. As he did so, placing his official passport on the counter, he realized that she was easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life.

  Careful, he reminded himself — watching her examine his passport and credential photographs, and then look up directly up at him with dark eyes that were gorgeous; but, at the same time, curious and penetrating — you’re in Thailand now, but it’s undoubtedly the same as in Japan. Politeness counts for everything. Pay no attention to the fact that she’s gorgeous. She’s just a bureaucrat. No big deal.

  “You don’t look very much like your passport photograph, Mr. Bulatt,” the young customs officer pointed out in heavily Thai-accented English.

  “No, I suppose I don’t,” Bulatt agreed as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his federal law enforcement badge case, and placed it on the counter. “The photograph on my credentials was taken when I was working on one of my undercover assignments. It probably resembles my current appearance a lot more than my passport,” he added as he watched her pick up the badge case, open it up and examine the credentials photo carefully.

  “Yes, this does look more like you,” the young woman agreed. “Does that mean you’re coming into Thailand on a covert assignment?”

  Bulatt blinked at the unexpected question. “No, not at all; I just completed an investigation yesterday and I haven’t had a chance to, uh, improve my appearance.”

  “Your appearance is perfectly acceptable, Agent Bulatt. So what brings you to Thailand?” the young woman asked in what could have passed for Oxford English, her suddenly unaccented voice almost haunting in its softness. “Business or pleasure?”

  It took every ounce of willpower that Bulatt possessed to force the imagined images of pleasure in Bangkok into the deep recesses of his mind.

  “Just business, I’m afraid,” he said what he hoped was a neutral voice; and then blinked in surprise when the young woman burst out laughing. Instantly, her flawless light-tanned features turned bright red. She quickly covered her mouth, but not before Bulatt saw her absolutely enticing dimples.

  Jesus.

  “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

  “No, no, I am so sorry. It was my fault.” The young woman brought the palms of her hands together in the traditional wai gesture that had the unfortunate effect of drawing Bulatt’s attention to her more-than-ample chest that her neatly pressed uniform shirt did nothing to hide.

  Bulatt felt his own tanned cheeks flush as he snapped his eyes back up to the young woman’s face, and discovered, to his dismay, that she had observed the movement of his eyes; and that her dimpled smile was, if possible, even more enticing that before.

  “It is not your fault, Agent Bulatt. I have been teasing you, and you are doing a very commendable job of being polite. I was just surprised by your surname,” the young woman explained as she reflexively stamped his passport. “It is such an interesting name for a law enforcement officer.”

  Bulatt nodded, grateful to be back on what he hoped was neutral ground. “My family name is Bulattus — a traditional Lithuanian name. But when my grandfather immigrated to the United States, he had it changed to Bulatt.” He shrugged his muscular shoulders. “He probably didn’t think much about it at the time, but I do get a lot of kidding from my associates.”

  “I’m sure you do. Well, I hope your stay in Thailand will not turn out to be all business,” she said as she handed back the credentials and passport.

  “Don’t even think about enjoying yourself here, Special Agent Bulatt,” a firm and oddly-familiar voice said.

  Bulatt turned and saw the familiar face of Colonel Prathun Kulawnit standing a few feet behind the customs booth, looking impressively official with his neatly-trimmed gray hair and crisply-ironed uniform.

  “Prathun! You’re the reason I was sent here?” Bulatt grinned in delight. He started forward to greet his Interpol friend, but then remembered. “Excuse me,” he said, coming to a halt and bringing the palms of his hands together at his chest and bowing slightly. “Khun Prathun, it is good to see you again.”

  Colonel Kulawnit acknowledged his friend’s politeness with a wai of his own, and then stepped forward and extended his hand. “Khun Ged, it is good to see you again, too, my friend,” he said, locking his gaze on Bulatt’s face for a brief moment. “Thank you most sincerely for coming.” The Colonel then turned to the young woman in the customs booth.

  “And thank you, also, Officer Achara, for seeing to Agent Bulatt’s papers so efficiently. I will now assume responsibility for his stay in Thailand,” he said, giving the young customs officer what — to Bulatt — looked like a disapproving glare.

  “It was my privilege, Colonel Kulawnit.” The young woman acknowledged her superior with a slight bow of her head, and then turned her attention back to Bulatt. In doing so, she brought her palms back together at her chest once more. “I do hope you’ll find time for some pleasure in Thailand, Khun Ged, as well as success in your business.”

  Bulatt quickly wai-d and bowed his thanks, and then gratefully followed Kulawnit to the baggage area where he found his suitcase, and then was quickly escorted through the rest of the Customs formalities.

  “That’s really unfair, you know,” Bulatt said when they were finally outside of the main terminal and walking to the curb where a uniformed Thai police officer was waiting beside new black Range Rover.

  “What’s unfair?” Colonel Kulawnit asked as he gestured for the uniformed officer to take Bulatt’s bag, and then opened the rear door and motioned Bulatt inside.

  Once they were out of the airport, Kulawnit had immediately reverted to his habit of treating Bulatt like some combination of younger brother and family friend. Kulawnit was older than Bulatt by a good fifteen years; but the two had met at an Interpol meeting in Lyon, France, three years earlier… and, in the course of three days, had managed to form a friendship based on mutual respect and a shared irreverence for bureaucracy, not to mention a genuine appreciation for each other’s sense of humor.

  “Officer Achara. Putting a beautiful young woman like that in a Customs booth — the first Thai woman the average male tourist is going to meet — and expecting the poor fellow to act polite, and not to start drooling on the spot, is asking a bit much, don’t you think?”

  Kulawnit laughed as the uniformed officer started up the engine and headed out of the airport. “Officer Achara, in my opinion, apart from occasional acts of questionable judgment and behavior, is an outstanding example of the young modern Thai woman. She is beautiful — as you certainly noticed — intelligent, thoughtful, polite, generally respectful of her elders; and, I should warn you, extremely lethal in the art of Thai kick-boxing. But then, as her father, I suppose I’m a bit biased.”

  “That’s — ?” Bulatt’s mouth dropped open as he stared disbelieving at his Thai friend, “I mean, Officer Achara is
your daughter? How can that be? That picture of your family you showed me in Lyon — ”

  “Had been taken several years earlier, and the Lyon meeting was three years ago,” Kulawnit reminded. “Children will grow up. What can a father do?”

  “I’d start by sending a daughter who looked and acted like that to the Thai equivalent of a nunnery,” Bulatt said seriously.

  “You can tell her that tonight, when we meet for dinner.”

  Bulatt blinked in sudden realization. “She knew I was coming to Thailand?”

  “Oh yes, she most certainly did; and was quite put out when I informed her that you and I had business to attend to, and that she would have to wait a few hours for her introduction. I’m afraid I’ve probably exaggerated some of your adventures over the past years, and she’s been quite anxious to meet the infamous Khun Ged in person; which undoubtedly explains why she arranged to temporarily reassume one of her earlier jobs with our Department. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; she’s always been a devious and persistent child.”

  “But also innovative,” Bulatt pointed out.

  “Yes, that too,” Kulawnit agreed. “It will make for an interesting topic of discussion over dinner, I think; assuming that we are still in Bangkok,” he added, his facial expression turning grim.

  “Yes, you must have asked me here for a serious purpose, Khun Prathun. I didn’t mean to — ”

  “No,” Kulawnit shook his head. “It is good we can share a few moments of good humor together. I am afraid the rest of our morning will not be so pleasant.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Inside the Bangkok International Airport

  Wallis had gone on alert status the moment he’d exited the Thai Airlines 737, walked down the ramp, and stepped into the busy Bangkok Airport terminal — the most vulnerable point of his escape from Thailand.

  Unarmed by necessity, and surrounded by security personnel both inside and outside the airport terminal, Wallis knew he’d have little chance of evading capture if an alarm were raised. But, as far as he could tell, no one was taking an undue interest in his arrival as he strode through the domestic arrival lounge and entered the main passenger hall.