Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“So this safe house, do you have coordinates for me?”
My phone pinged instantly with the information. “It’s only about eight kilometers from your current position. A boat will be waiting.”
“A boat?” I groaned. “Seriously?”
“I’m not the one killing people in the streets,” he yelled at me, his normal unflappable calm going right out the window. “What the fuck, Jared?”
“I have no idea what’s going on. This is overkill.”
“Agreed.”
“Somebody really wants me dead.”
He ignored that and instead asked, “Are you all right? Bullet-free?”
“At the moment,” I said as Jing weaved in and out of traffic. “I’ll call later.”
“Please,” he said, and hung up.
I smiled at Jing. “You ready for directions to the safe house?”
“I was born ready, boss.”
Her bravado and teasing made me smile as we headed east out of the city, Jing torturing the sedan’s clutch and gearbox. In thirty minutes, we were near the Khlong Toei slum, south of the expressway and north of the port. It was the largest and oldest slum in Bangkok, housing some 100,000 people on roughly one square mile of land. Jing parked some distance away, and we walked slowly, Garland hiding the MAC-10 under his arm, inside his jacket, his other arm holding Nam’s.
“Thank you for not letting me die, even though you had every right to,” Nam said to my back. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Colter.”
“None of it was your fault,” I assured him, walking with Jing on my arm. “Let’s just get through this and you’ll see your sister and niece.”
“Aw, boss, he’s all choked up back here,” Garland told me, and I heard it then, the slight Southern Accent that warmed his words. “Here you go, buddy. Blow your nose.”
Apparently, from the sound of Nam sniffling to Jing smoothing oil on her face, Garland had everything you’d ever need in the pockets of his cargo pants.
“You’re like Mary Poppins,” I said to him.
“I’m not sure what that’s about,” he replied, chuckling, “but I’m going to assume it’s a compliment and take it as such.”
We made our way to the nearby Khlong Toei Market. I felt reasonably confident that we were not tailed, and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary as we moved through the busy rows of fish stalls lining the interior of Bangkok’s largest wet market, where fishermen sold their early morning catch.
When we reached a small dock that jutted out into the Chao Phraya River, I immediately saw a sleek red powerboat with flames painted on either side tied up alongside other light craft. With an overall length of twenty-nine feet and twin 300 HP outboards, the V hull sport cruiser stood out.
“Well, now, that’s not conspicuous at all,” Jing said sarcastically.
“I bet you Darius is watching us on satellite and laughing his ass off.”
The thing was, though, the boat worried me. My friend was not, in any way, a gambling man. He was as skilled an operator as they came. Every move he made was deliberate, like chess. If the man sent me a powerboat, it was because we would need to go fast.
“Fuck,” I grumbled.
“I’ll wager she’s as speedy as she looks,” Garland commented, sounding excited, then asked Jing, “Can you drive that?”
“I can,” she muttered, turning to me. “But man…when I have my baby, Hasana is going to be with you, and I’ll be the one making hotel reservations from fuckin’ Paris.”
“Are you planning a family?” Garland asked her.
“I already have a family. I have dogs. I’m just saying, when Hasana’s done having this kid, we’re switching places. She gets to follow Jared Colter around the globe, and I’ll be the voice on the phone.”
“You sound upset,” I told her.
“No,” she snapped, quickly wiping stray tears from under each eye. “Everything’s fine.”
“I don’t think everything’s fine,” Nam commented.
Master of the obvious, that one.
Moving down the dock, we were met by an older Thai man in a red baseball cap. He greeted us in the traditional Thai fashion: a slight bow, his palms pressed together, prayer-like.
We all bowed back.
When I straightened, he said, “You’re here for the Demon, yes?”
Of course the name of the boat was the Demon. Why wouldn’t it be? “We are.”
He held out the keys to Jing, which I found interesting because that meant he’d looked at all of us, me, her, Garland, and Nam, and instantly decided Jing would be driving. I was a little hurt.
“I suggest you depart with haste,” the man said kindly. “It would probably be best.”
Did we need the sarcasm?
Immediately, he moved to the front of the boat as we climbed aboard, and told Jing she had onboard GPS as the engine roared to life.
“Just follow the arrow, don’t get lost, you’ll be fine.”
It was all quite logical.
“You’re a riot, sir,” Jing told him.
“My wife says this as well. A house has been arranged for you on Koh Kret, so again, follow directions and don’t get lost.”