Brett Battles - Little Girl Gone Страница 17

She didn’t answer, but instead looked like she was contemplating how she wanted to respond.

Finally, Logan shook his head and said, “I don’t understand why you seem reluctant to help me.”

“I want to help you. I’m just not sure whether I should or not.”

“Why is that even a question? Dev must have made it clear what was going on. The girl they have, she’s being used as a pawn by the Burmese government to keep her mother from speaking out against them. She’s just a kid. A college student. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Do you have actual proof that the Myanmar government’s responsible for taking her?” she asked.

The expression on the face of the man in the black shirt soured for a moment, then returned to neutral.

“I don’t,” Logan admitted. “But her grandfather is convinced that’s what’s happened, and the fact that she was brought here, within a hundred miles of the border, is enough to convince me he’s probably right. What’s going to happen to her if they take her over there?”

Again, he sensed something in the longer haired man. A tension. But if Christina noticed, she made no mention of it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’m not a fan of the generals. They’re oppressors and killers, we all know that. But things are delicate over here. A wrong move could affect many other things that are also important.”

Logan stood up. “I’ve obviously come to the wrong place. Thank you for your time.”

He turned for the door, but Christina reached out and touched his hand. “Mr. Harper, please. Sit back down.”

He hesitated for a moment, then did as she asked.

She leaned toward him. “I’ve been lucky to have had a certain amount of success here. But to do that, I’ve had to create a reliable information network that stretches beyond the borders of Thailand. I have people in Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Malaysia, Indonesia, China, and Myanmar…Burma. I have been told there is no chance the generals in Myanmar, no matter how crazy they are, would have sent people to the United States to kidnap anyone.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Logan told her, shaking his head. “I don’t have the proof, but, honestly, I don’t care if it’s them or not. I just want to get the girl back. I promised her grandfather, and I’m not going to let him down. So, please, I’m asking you for your help.”

He locked eyes with her, daring her to tell him no.

After several seconds, she frowned, and stood up. “The truth is, Mr. Harper, I can’t help you.”

His shoulders sagged. He was about to ask her why she bothered bringing him here, when she motioned to the man in the black shirt.

“But I think my friend Daeng here can.”

26

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Christina said, then motioned for Mr. Prem to follow her back to the door they entered through.

As soon as they were gone, Daeng held out his hand. “Don’t expect me to call you Mr. Harper.”

Logan was surprised. He had assumed Daeng was Thai, but the man’s accent was pure American. They shook hands. “You can call me Logan.”

Daeng must have sensed the confusion in Logan’s voice, because he smiled, then said, “Hollywood High, class of ninety-nine.”

“You’re not from Thailand?”

“I am. But that’s not what you’re asking, is it? I was born here, but went to live with an aunt in Thai Town in Los Angeles when I was just a kid. I’m Thai on my dad’s side. My mom?” He held Logan’s gaze for a moment. “She was Burmese.”

Logan realized that explained Daeng’s reactions earlier while Christina had been talking about Burma. Hopefully, it would make Daeng more motivated to lend a hand. “So can you help me track down the van?”

Daeng smiled. “And here I thought you were going to give me a challenge.”

As they stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Christina’s place, a car that had been parked down the street drove over and stopped at the curb. The driver jumped out, and opened the back door. He had the same tough look as Daeng, only with much shorter hair.

Daeng let Logan enter first, then he slid in after him. Before the driver had even climbed back behind the wheel, Daeng was unbuttoning his shirt. “She likes us to dress up when we talk business. I refuse to wear a suit, but I figure I can at least wear one of these.”

As he pulled it off, Logan noticed that Daeng’s upper body was covered in colorful tattoos—a tiger on his shoulder, a serpent wrapped around one arm, and, taking up much of his back, the Buddha.

The driver handed back a T-shirt, and Daeng pulled it on. On the front was a picture of Einstein sticking out his tongue.

“So where are we going?” Logan asked as they sped down the street.

“I don’t really have as much use for Mr. Prem as Christina does, but sometimes he’s helpful. He did get us the van’s license number after all. Thought maybe we’d pay the owner a visit.”

“You know where he lives?”

“I will soon enough.”

Logan allowed himself to relax a little. He wasn’t at a dead end. This was exactly the kind of help he needed.

The streets were now much easier to get around than when Logan had taken his little suicide ride through the city on the back of the motorcycle. In fact, Daeng’s driver seldom had to slow at all, except at lights. Logan was even getting used to the feel of riding on the opposite side of the road from the one back home. Thailand, like several Asian nations, drove British style.

They were on the road for a little more than five minutes when Daeng received a call. When he finished, he said, “The van’s owner lives way out on Sukhumvit. It’s going to take us a little while to get there, so if you want to nap, this would be a good time.”

Any lingering effects Logan had been feeling from the sleeping pill had been completely negated by the evening’s events. He was wide awake. “I’m fine.”

Daeng shrugged. “Your call.”

Logan stared out the window, watching the city go by. It appeared most people had finally packed it in for the night, but every once in a while he’d see a couple of street vendors still set up along a sidewalk, surrounded by customers enjoying a late-night meal.

After a bit, he glanced at Daeng. “You, uh, work for Christina?”

Daeng grunted a laugh. “No. Sometimes our paths cross, that’s all.”

“What is it she does?”

“A little bit of everything, I think. She’s been here forever. Knows everyone, knows what buttons to push and which asses to kiss.” Daeng smiled. “How old do you think she is?”

“I don’t know. Forty-seven, forty-eight. Something like that.”

“Sixty-one.”

“You’re kidding.” Not that Logan thought sixty-one was particularly old anymore, but she hadn’t looked even close to that.

“Not kidding. I think she has a plastic surgeon on retainer, but don’t quote me on that. She’s been here since the war.”

“The Vietnam war?” Logan asked, surprised again.

Daeng nodded.

“She couldn’t have been much out of high school,” Logan said.

“The way I heard it, that would be about right.”

“What, exactly, did you hear?”

Daeng hesitated for a moment, then said, “Apparently she had a brother in the Army who’d gone MIA. She came here because it was the closest she could get to the war. She used to hang out in places where soldiers took R&R, trying to find someone who might have heard something about her brother. She even paid a few of them to try and find him. One guy did it for free. He was the one who found him. But by that point her brother was only dog tags and bones. After that, instead of going back to the States, she just stayed.”

“I wonder why she stayed.”

Daeng shrugged. “I heard this story from someone else. Christina never talks about her past, at least not to me. Maybe none of it’s true.”

A little further on, the driver slowed, then said something to Daeng. They talked back and forth for several seconds, then the driver moved into the right lane, and made a U-turn at the next break. Keeping his speed low, he moved all the way over to the left.

Daeng said something and pointed ahead, then said to Logan, “It’s just down that soi.”

At first Logan wasn’t sure what he meant, then the car turned on a small road—a soi he guessed—and drove half a block down before stopping at the curb.

Daeng looked past him out the window. “That’s it.” He nodded at the building across the street.

All three of them got out and crossed over to it.

The apartment they were looking for was on the third floor. Logan was surprised when they got there to find three men waiting in the hallway outside the apartment’s door. There were several hushed greetings, and he quickly realized these men were with Daeng.

One of them rushed ahead, and instead of knocking on the door, he just opened it.

Daeng went in first with Logan right behind. They passed through a small entryway and into a living room. On a couch was a short, doughy man who couldn’t have been more than forty. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, and looked nervous.

There were two more of Daeng’s men in the room. One was standing near the couch, while the other was in a doorway that led to the rest of the apartment.

Daeng spoke in Thai, and the man in the doorway answered. Seemingly satisfied, Daeng led Logan over to where the pudgy man was sitting.

“You speak English?” he asked the man.

“Nitnoy,” the man said nervously. “A little.”

“Okay, then we’ll talk in English.”

The man eyed Logan for a moment, then looked back at Daeng. “Please no hurt me. Me, my family, we do nothing.”

“No one’s planning on hurting you.” The guy looked like he didn’t understand, so Daeng spoke in Thai, translating what he’d already said, Logan assumed. The man responded in kind, but Daeng shook his head. “English, remember?”

Logan leaned over to Daeng and whispered, “His family’s here?”

“Wife and son in back.”

Suddenly Logan didn’t feel so comfortable about the situation.

“You have a van you rent?” Daeng asked the man.

“Have two van.”

“Okay, two then. You drive one of them?”

“Yes.”

“And the other?”

“My wife brother.”

“Which one of you picked up the group at the airport today.”

“We both at airport today.”

“I’m talking about the people who came in on the small plane. With the girl who was sick.”

The man looked even more nervous now.

“Was that you?” Daeng asked.

“Ye…yes. Was me.”

“Good. I want to know where you took them.”

“I…I…”

“Is there a problem? You had to take them somewhere, didn’t you? Where was it?”

The man’s gaze shot back and forth between Daeng and Logan, then he began speaking rapidly in Thai. At the end he seemed to be repeating himself, pleading.

“What’s he saying?” Logan asked.

“He says the people he gave the ride to made him promise to say nothing about them or where they went. They said if they found out he did, they would kill him and his family.”

“Yes, yes!” the owner said. “Please. Cannot say. Please understand. Have family.”

Logan could see that Daeng was about to start in again, so he quickly said, “Let me.”

He crouched down in front of the owner of the van, lowering himself so that they were eye-to-eye. “No one wants to hurt you or your family. Okay?”

The man just stared at him, his eyes full of terror.

“The sick girl who was with the people you picked up, they kidnapped her.” Logan could instantly see the man didn’t understand. “Took her. Against her will.” There was still incomprehension in the man’s eyes.

Logan looked back at Daeng, who then said something very quickly in Thai.

The man’s eyes widened as he realized what Logan had meant.

“I need to find her. I need to bring her home to her family. You understand?”

The man nodded.

“We need to know where you took them. You have to tell us.”

The man began shaking his head violently. “No. No. My family. Cannot.”

“But the girl has a family, too.”

The man closed his eyes and continued to shake his head.

Logan stood back up. He’d thought for sure he’d been getting through to him. “There’s got to be some way to get him to tell us,” he said to Daeng.

Daeng turned so that his back was to the man. “We could rough up his wife and kid.”

“Absolutely not!” Logan said. That was one road he would never go down.

“I was actually kidding. This guy’s done nothing but get hired by the people you’re looking for. I don’t hurt the innocent.”

Logan relaxed a little. “Sorry.”

“My fault, not yours,” he said. “I may have an idea that might work, though.”

Daeng turned back, then began speaking to the man in Thai. Logan could see some of the tension that had gripped the man fade. The van owner asked a few questions. Daeng answered two of them, then looked at Logan after the third.

“I’ve offered to put them someplace where I can guarantee their safety until this is over. He’s open to that, but…”

“Yes?”

“The vans are his only means of income. If he’s not working, he’s not making any money.”

Logan nodded. Here was a problem he could solve. “I can cover the rental fees.”

“I thought you might be able to.” Daeng turned back to the man and relayed the information.

For the first time the guy smiled and began to look like he was no longer worried he was about to die. He spoke with Daeng for another minute, then got up and went into the back room.

“Come on,” Daeng said, then headed for the front door.

“He told you where they are?”

“He told me where he took them.”

“Great.”

Daeng hesitated, then said, “Maybe.”

27

Logan and Daeng spent another twenty minutes traveling through town before they got out of the car again. They were under what appeared to be a long concrete bridge, in an area populated with more apartment buildings.

“Skytrain,” Daeng said, following Logan gaze up at the bridge. “Public train. Runs above the city.”

There didn’t seem to be any trains operating at the moment.

Logan came around one of its support pillars, and was surprised to see a wide, dark river off to their left.

Daeng started walking toward it. “This way.”

There was a gentle breeze coming off the water, making the warm, humid night almost pleasant. Daeng stopped on a sidewalk near the river’s edge. Beyond it was a wide cement area, with a pair of ramps that sloped down to an empty dock.

“The van owner said this is where he dropped them off,” Daeng said.

“Where, exactly, are we?”