Rene's complaints had stopped as soon as the group left the jungle. This area of the island was significantly more developed, with a chain of bars and hotels set just inland of a wide beach. Tourists crowded the sand around some of the bars, and one hotel had decided to get a head start on the night's festivities by blasting house music.
The three younger mercenaries rapidly disappeared among the tourists. Sadeski sighed. "Gordon, not joining them?"
"I was planning on sticking with you, Bob." Weston raised his sunglasses and squinted across the crowd at something indistinguishable, then returned them. "These kids have no taste. Nobody's heard of Marvin Gaye here."
"So go teach 'em." Bob stopped and pointed out a more upscale-looking hotel. "Try there. One baht is about three cents and this place uses American money too." He clapped Gordon on the back.
"I don't know what you're up to, I'm fairly sure I'll regret this, and I've got a bad feeling, but there's no point in trying to change your mind." The big man sauntered off, drawing stares of amazement from Thai locals unaccustomed to seeing anyone with darker skin than their own as he passed.
Sadeski watched his friend almost to the hotel's doors before making a beeline for a busy looking bar which seemed to be mostly made of glass and steel. Pushing his way past alternating crowds of locals and European tourists, he made his way to the back booth. A small Thai man was holding a menu up to his face. Bob sat down across from him. "Are there moose in Thailand?"
The menu dropped, and a scrawny face grinned at Bob. "No, but there are antelope! I see they finally sent someone."
"Sure did. I've got two questions for you. First, why are we picking you up?" Sadeski scowled. "And is your codename really 'Agent 007' or is someone just trying to mess with the stupid Americans? Because if-"
"007! Jaym Bond!" The Thai man burst into a fit of high-pitched laughter.
Bob sighed and wondered if this was actually the right bar and the right contact. "It's James Bond. James."
"No, it's Bond. Jaym Bond. That's how he says it in the movie." The smile slipped off the man's face with amazing speed. "No more games. That codename means any agent who's in big trouble and sent a distress signal. Both of those mean me."
Sadeski sighed and brought his head to rest on his palm, staring at nothing. This was about as badly as he could expect a simple pick-up to go, short of being shot by the scrawny Thai himself. "So," he grunted. "Why are you in trouble?"
"Well, I was on vacation, and I found something dangerous here. There is a Triad on this island." He leaned in close to Bob. "Do you know what a Triad is?"
"Yeah. Chinese gangs. Counterfeiters out in Hong Kong and Singapore." Bob eased himself back from the man's face slowly, so the strange Thai wouldn't take offense. "Why's one here? This island is the middle of nowhere."
"Exactly." The man fairly threw himself back against the seat. "Nobody expects drug distribution here. The tourists bring enough by themselves. So this place is where they grow some plants." He lowered his voice, cupped a hand to his face, and widened his eyes. "Marijuana." Bob attempted an expression that he thought might look like surprise. "They have a drug warehouse on this island. There are three or four of them waiting at the entrance to this beach. I can't leave this place now. The police are here, but if I leave, I'll get shot."
Sadeski was having trouble repressing his contempt for the situation. "And there's no other way out of here?"
"There's another road, but that's guarded too. I might be able to escape in the dark with your men." A waiter brought the man a strange-smelling drink, causing a pause in the stream of unusually accented English. "I see they let tourists move freely. They may try to sell you something, though." He began drinking noisily.
Bob's irritation was beginning to surface. "How exactly did you find them?" he growled.
"Well, well." The man put down his drink. "I was spending my vacation with a local girl. Old family friend. She lives in a small village in the center of the island, in the jungle. One day, I got lost and found I was at the far side of the island. I found a road that was never there before. I followed this road to the sea. I found a small dock and a fishing boat full of Chinese unloading sacks of something into a cart. I knew there was supposed to be no dock or Chinese there, so I followed them. They had guns, AK-47. I followed them all the way to a little camouflaged building not far from here. I hid outside the building and listened to them. They have some Thai people there, I guess. I understand what my people were talking about. They said there was a marijuana field on the other side of the jungle from this beach. I found it myself, but the Chinese found me. They shot at me, and they chased me all the way here. And now, I cannot escape. Every night I must sleep with the police, for five days." He picked up his glass and downed the rest of the drink, relieving Bob of the peculiar odor.
"So what do you want me to do about getting you out of here?" Bob shifted in his seat. The cushion was uneven.
"Meet me in front of here right before midnight. I can't talk too much, they probably watching." He pretended to drink from the empty glass, using the bottom to point out a dour-looking Chinese man across the bar.
Bob stood up. "You got it." He shook the man's hand, then raised his voice to a normal level. "Well, Mr. James. See you next festival." As expected, the Chinese man twitched sharply in reaction to his voice. Sadeski strode out of the bar, ignoring the waiter's insistent calls for him to drink something.
ns 15.158.61.46da2
