The initial consensus among the crew had been to throw Sun Dinghuang overboard somewhere near Cambodia. His suspicious appearance was particularly unwelcome after the previous week of paranoia and Fan Xiaolong's treachery. However, the pilot had sensed his precarious position and quickly proclaimed an extensive knowledge of Chinese ships and planes. This news was at least somewhat mollifying- Mark Birch could easily sell Sun's information to several countries. However, he would have to stay with the crew until they returned to Virginia. The former pilot had been declared legally dead by the Chinese government and would not be able to board a plane without extensive false paperwork.
"So how did that happen, anyway?" Gordon Weston sprawled across a chair and onto the kitchen table, one hand jutting into his beard to support his chin.
"Well, I was assigned to General Fan. He ordered me to pick him up in Thailand. So, I flew in with a stealth fighter, picked him up, and left. Someone saw me and the Thai government caused big diplomatic problems. The government in China doesn't like things like this, so they said I was a traitor. They said I died already." Sun crossed his legs and grinned.
Gordon chuckled. "Stealth plane? You landed on the biggest highway in that area, outside the biggest town in the province. You were about as stealthy as a brick through a window."
"I just followed orders." The pilot assumed what he thought was a righteous expression.
"So why were you still alive? A country that's probably about to go wipe out a few thousand of its own people in the next few days doesn't have reason to save one pilot normally." Bob leaned against the sink carelessly.
Wong threw up one hand flippantly. "The government doesn't care. They just say I'm dead and throw me out of the military. General Fan doesn't like to have his men die, though. He sent me to Mr. Kang, and Mr. Kang sent me to you." The former pilot closed his eyes.
"You have any combat training?" Bob glanced at something in the sink. "If you're stuck with us, we could use a temporary crewman. You could replace Rene." Bob raised his voice slightly so the Frenchman would hear him in the next room.
"Of course I have combat training. Long ago, though. Pilots from China don't fight much."
Weston resettled himself on the chair. "Well, now you're a citizen of the world. You are now learning what we all learned- a homeland is just where you happened to be born. People are your friends, countries aren't."
"Unless we're on a job for a government. Then the government is your best friend." Bob gave a rare smile. "Anyway. You with us?"
Sun deliberated briefly, his eyes moving around the room. "All right. I'll join."
"Good choice." Gordon stood up abruptly. "I advise you to write up at least some of what you know. As a life insurance plan, so to speak."
The pilot spent most of the journey to Bangkok following this advice. The trip was uneventful for the rest of the crew. Rene Levancon, newly freed from any suspicion, spent most of his time writing something on the deck. In the control room, an argument over what music to play lasted several hours and was only ended by Gordon wearing headphones when he took over the controls for the night shift.
By the time the Northern Cross was navigating the northbound shipping lanes of the Chao Phraya river, the cool ocean air had been replaced by the muggy Bangkok atmosphere. Rene was forced to come inside and join the crew in the kitchen, drinking away a dwindling supply of fresh water. To conserve fuel, Bob refused to turn on the air conditioning or emergency desalination systems. Mark Birch would not be pleased with the next supply bill, Bob thought. He would probably be even less pleased with the one for Rene's severance.
The dock seemed unchanged from when they had left. Two dockworkers helped Rene moor the ship and immediately struck up a conversation with him. The Frenchman's speech was choppy, but he had learned the basics of the language with amazing speed. Behind him, the rest of the mercenaries filed out of the cabin and clambered down to the dock. Bob gazed up at the third floor window of the administrative building. He saw Leah Silverstone's high-backed executive chair slowly swing from side to side, facing inward.
"Hey, Rene." Levancon turned to his captain, grinning. "Ask them how the boss is doing."
The Frenchman gave a lazy salute and complied. The answer came quickly. "Miss Silverstone is off for the day. Anuman is slacking off in her office."
"Fine, whatever." Bob's voice was placid but measured. "We're going to get Takeshi. Come on."
The hospital was less than half an hour's walk from the dock, near where the shootout had occurred. In front of the hospital, a nondescript building except for the ambulance bay, a diplomatic limousine occupied several parking spaces. Zach stared at the limo, his thoughts converging. "This is a government hospital, isn't it?"
"Sure is." Bob didn't turn his head. "Funny to go into a government district on May Day and not see protesters. They really must have those Red Shirts under control." A trio of the same Red Shirts could be seen nearby, their downcast expressions evident through bandannas. They were the closest thing the mercenaries had seen to a May Day protest so far. "Anyway, Takeshi's here. Hope he hasn't done anything stupid." Bob led his men through the automatic doors and into a surprisingly small lobby.
"The more women he's seen, the higher the odds of that are." Taylor gave a snort of laughter at Rene's remark. Bob rolled his eyes and made for a receptionist's desk behind a plate-glass window. "Why's he here anyway? Why not a cheaper place?"
"This probably is the cheapest place. Our contracts are good with things like that." Gordon's eyes scanned the room.
The crewmen stood in a square and idly chatted. Sadeski, upon being informed that Takeshi Sato was due to be checked out yesterday, hastily rejoined them. "Come on. Follow me." He led them to the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor.
When the doors slid open, Bob was surprised to see Sato himself walking down the hallway to the left with Chariya. The Japanese mercenary walked with a noticeable limp, but at least he was walking. "Hey! Takeshi!" Bob called.
Sato slowly turned around, and his face lit up. "Well, well. Bob didn't forget about me."
"I'm still paying you." Bob remarked flatly. Takeshi laughed. Chariya ran over to the mercenaries. Her tired appearance of almost two weeks prior had reverted to its normal radiant state.
"Gordon!" She squeezed the large mercenary against her. Weston smiled down at her.
Sato feigned sadness. "Why does he get a hug and I don't?"
"You don't think I know about those nurses spending so much time in your room? You've had enough affection from Thai girls." Chariya released Weston, who pretended to exhale heavily. She lightly jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow.
"Takeshi? Lucky with women? I think it's a sign of the apocalypse." Whether Zach was legitimately shocked or just feigning surprise was difficult to determine. Sato grinned but did not respond.
Chariya wheeled to face Bob. "I was about to check him out of the hospital. We just visited Jao."
"Oh, how is Jao?" Sadeski pushed the button for the elevator to return.
"He wants to get back to work. He's watching too many movies. He's not very thankful for his break." The elevator doors opened to reveal two nurses with a cart. Chariya flounced in, followed by the mercenaries. One of the nurses recognized Sato and giggled, leading to another horrified expression from Zach.
They parted ways in the parking lot, Chariya waving as she almost bounced away to her van. Sun Dinghuang, who had been generally silent, watched her go. "Secret agent, huh?"
"Pardon me, but who are you? My replacement?" Takeshi glanced up at Wong. He was trying his best to conceal the limp but not entirely succeeding.
"He's actually Rene's replacement." Taylor ambled behind Bob at the front of the group. "Rene's got a girlfriend. He's leaving and going to that godforsaken island we found Jao on."
"Sun Dinghuang." The pilot extended his hand to Sato.
"That's his name." Levancon cut in. "No jokes, or Zach will stab you." To prove the point, Taylor flicked a knife out and held it up. Takeshi merely shook the Chinese man's hand.
Bangkok bustled as ever as the mercenaries made their way back to the boat. When they arrived, Takeshi immediately made for his room to rest his foot before doing anything else. Sun Dinghuang searched the kitchen for food- he would not be safe outside for too long in a city which dozens of Chinese bounty hunters called home. Gordon quickly arranged for Sato to keep the pilot company, then set off after Zach and Rene. They had agreed to stick with the Frenchman for what would likely be his last shore leave. Bob was soon left alone on the dock, gazing up at the back of the chair slowly turning back and forth behind the office building's massive observation window.
He'd had days to think about it. More time than he usually needed to think about such things. But Sadeski still felt torn between his boat and the near-perpetual tenant of his thoughts. He didn't know what to say to Leah Silverstone even if she were there. He watched the sun's rays slowly creep down the taller buildings of Bangkok as dusk fell. Bob sighed and stalked off toward the city. Another night of drinking. Perhaps he'd find Gordon.
The first bar had been full of tourists, but Bob had left with a bottle of low-quality beer rather than his men. He stopped and pondered for a minute, beer in hand. Rene was probably the determining force behind where the mercenaries went. The Frenchman preferred odd places to bars- he would have led them to a market or entertainment district. Sadeski's GPS quickly proved its worth- a market was only a few blocks to the northwest. He set off with slow, ambling strides. Bob was in no hurry.
The next intersection was home to a massive television mounted into the side of a building. A cluster of people were watching the news intently. Bob frowned. Nobody paid attention to these TVs, even if they weren't playing only commercials. He wandered into the back of the crowd.
"...has yet to make an official statement." He read the subtitles- the newscast was in Thai but ran both English and Chinese subtitles at the bottom of the screen. "It's quite the May Day for China- the terrorist attack that was thwarted by the Chinese army yesterday marked the beginning of a massive anti-terror campaign in Xinjiang province. Uighurs abroad are enraged, and Xinjiang's borders are shut down after inter-ethnic rioting killed 27. China is sending more troops to keep the peace and several countries in the area have declared support for China. Al-Qaeda has issued a statement claiming that China staged the incident to subvert legitimate terrorism. Meanwhile, the United States has responded by moving its Pacific fleet from..."
"It's terrible! Just terrible!" An elderly American tourist standing in front of Sadeski was talking to his wife. "God bless China. I hope they catch all the terrorists."
Bob didn't want to hear it. He continued on toward the market district, leaving the main road and moving to a poorly lit residential street. He stuffed the GPS into his jacket pocket to avoid drawing attention from the passing laborers and vagrants. No tourists dared enter unlit areas, but this was the fastest way...
No faces were visible. The darkness was thick enough that Bob thought he might be able to cut it with his knife. Bodies could be seen for some distance in the dim lights from windows above, but a canopy of clotheslines stifled the light of the moon and much of the upper parts of the buildings. At the far end of the block, a figure carrying a bag was accosted by a larger silhouette and dragged into a small alleyway. Sadeski paid it no heed- the police should be handling this rather than staying in the lighted areas with the tourists. It wasn't his problem.
As he walked toward the alley, though, he thought he heard a familiar voice. Bob wondered if he was thinking too hard or if his conscience was getting to him. When a scream emitted from the alley, he realized neither was the case. Sadeski sprinted to the alleyway, ripping his GPS from his pocket as he ran to provide some light. He was aware of several pairs of greedy eyes which suddenly fixed on him, though he couldn't see them. Bob pointed the GPS' lighted screen at the brick-walled canyon as he came to a stop. In the pale glow, Leah Silverstone recoiled from a hulking Chinese man carrying a kitchen knife, clutching her bag. A broken device lay on the ground between them. Sadeski had no time to think about the situation before the half-empty beer bottle left his hand and arced into the Chinese man's surprised face, shattering on impact. Bob brought the brute down with a boot to the chest. "Come on!" he shouted. Silverstone seemed too stunned to speak, but took Bob's outstretched hand and fled with him back toward the giant TV.
Another anchor was now discussing China, and the crowd seemed to have grown, but Bob gave it no attention. His thoughts were completely focused on Leah, who now stood before him, her shoes damaged, a thin trail of blood running down her arm, and an almost lifeless expression of shock fixed on her features. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"At least my... guardian angel's... good-looking." Her voice was slowly returning, and the dull eyes were beginning to regain their vigor.
"What happened to your arm?" Bob took her elbow in his hand and examined her bare shoulder-the cloth of her shirt looked as if the sleeve had been put through a cheese grater, and there was a mild abrasion on the skin underneath.
"Shoved me... against the wall. I dropped... my Taser." She took a deep breath. "It's nothing. I just need a rest." Leah collapsed against Bob, burying her face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bob. I missed you. I missed you so much."
Sadeski clasped her to him. "I'd be lying if I didn't say the same."
"I can't lose you, Bob." She drew her head back, her grey eyes and the silver parts of her amulet glimmering under the run-down streetlight. "Let's get out of the birdcage."
The thoughts that had been running through Bob's brain for hours, days, weeks finally coalesced into a singular idea. "Come with me, Leah."
"Where are we going?" Her voice had not regained its usual self-assuredness completely.
"First, we're going to your apartment to make sure your arm is all right." Silverstone's eyes dimmed slightly. "And then, if you want, you can come to my boat and never see a birdcage again, as long as you live."
"Bob." An expression of wonder crept onto her face. Suddenly, she began to cry, burying her face in Bob's shoulder once again. "Thank you. You're offering me life. Nobody has offered me life before, but you..." Tears of joy ran down her face.
Sadeski held her against him, not caring that his jacket was growing damp. "Come with me, kid." He pulled Leah away from his shoulder, stared into her eyes briefly, then kissed her, a long and passionate kiss. The kind he hadn't given in years, if at all. When he spoke again, it was a stronger tone- the usual voice of Captain Robert Sadeski. "Forget painting the town. The entire ocean will be our home. We'll make the waters run red!"
Editor's note: This was the end of the original run of The Waters Run Red.
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