A total of four potential replacements for Sato had been found. The pair of Americans had not been particularly interested and the Thai bounty hunter Mark Birch had located did not actually speak Chinese, but had been "padding his resume," as the man had put it. The only remaining choice was a Chinese man with a wicked-looking scar across his cheek. Bob hadn't liked the man from the outset, but he tempered his judgment with the memory that of his current crewmen; the only one he had liked initially was Gordon Weston.
And so, a deal was hammered out. Bob would be paying the Chinese mercenary, Sun Xianli, about two-thirds what a regular crew member received, for as long as needed. He sincerely hoped this would turn out to be only one mission. This man was no Takeshi Sato.
Bob had broken a personal rule- the Northern Cross would not be leaving Bangkok until the following day. Normally, the boat would be sailing already. The official reason was to get to Chinese waters at a time when they would be less likely to be stopped, but only Mark Birch bought that. It had become all too obvious to the crew that their captain was spending most of his free time on actual leave lately- they had seen him entering the management building at the end of the dock several times.
It wasn't just there that he'd been going, though. Rene may have been the one who had picked up a reasonable amount of Thai, but Bob could find his way around Bangkok now. His leave had taken him to several restaurants, a few parks, a shrine, and various tourist traps. He didn't mind the throngs of tourists jostling him in the streets, the loud Americans and Chinese who seemed to be everywhere in the tourist areas of the city. Going to the right place made it all worthwhile. This time, the place was Leah Silverstone's apartment.
The cramped apartment was indicative of Silverstone's pay rate. Bob wondered why she still had her job if it was only allowing her this tiny, sparsely decorated space to live in. True, the location was convenient, but the boat seemed luxurious compared to this.
"Because I don't really have a way out." Leah sighed and gazed at Bob, her face a jumble of emotions. Sadeski realized he'd been speaking aloud. They were lying on an oversized straw deck chair that occupied almost the entire area of the tiny balcony jutting out from Silverstone's apartment. Other apartment buildings, similarly structured with rows of tiny residences and balconies, rose to either side, and beyond rows of lower buildings the Chao Phraya glittered in the afternoon sunlight. The city seemed to stretch out forever, its urban sprawl taking up the horizons. The balcony faced northwest, allowing the sunlight to bathe them from an angle. "It's a pretty cage, at least."
"It has to match the inhabitant." Bob's upper arm was pinned under Leah's shoulders, but he was able to move his hand to the amulet he had given her. He held it up to the sunlight, watching the silver gleam dully between the wood, then turning it slightly so the light focused on the wood bands. "I like this too much."
Leah laughed. "It's a really unmistakable piece of jewelry. I like it too much too." She grasped Bob's hand, moving the amulet so the sunlight glowed through the ruby.
"That's not what I meant." Bob turned his head, his face inches at most from Leah's. "I like just sitting here, with you, too much. I can't do it, though. I have to keep running, running everywhere."
"To Hainan." Her voice sounded fake, deliberately covering up something.
Bob sensed it but pressed on. "To Hainan, and then back here. Once Takeshi's better, we probably won't come back to Thailand for years if at all."
"Suppose something were to happen to him and you had to stay?" Her fake tone of voice was now an imitation of mischievous.
"We'd leave him behind. Company policy."
Silverstone feigned horror. "How cruel! Oh Bob..." Her voice became plaintive, genuine once again. "Come back in one piece. I'll miss you."
"I'll do my best." Bob's thoughts grappled with each other- the calmness was only skin deep.
***
A few people had gathered on the dock around the Northern Cross. Three Thai dockworkers were exchanging goodbyes with Rene- all four were laughing about something. Zachary Taylor was discussing something with Anuman. Bob hoped it wasn't important. Near the stern, Chariya and Gordon Weston were involved in a heated conversation about using soul music as exercise music. Sun Xianli glowered near the cabin.
Nephenee Silverstone looked up at Bob, standing tall on the prow, his features obscured by the sun at his back. She stared at him briefly, not knowing what his darkened visage was saying, before turning and walking briskly back toward the management building. Her gait was reminiscent of some animal, wounded but unwilling to show its pain for fear of being viewed as weak and attacked. The attack did not come, but nothing else did, either.
The mercenaries eventually said their goodbyes, and the boat's engines came to life. The Northern Cross slowly made its way south, the sun's last rays turning the entire vessel into a collection of shadows framed by a corona.
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