Brett Battles - Little Girl Gone

“She’s tied in a chair, either unconscious or drugged. Maybe both.” He paused. “There’s blood on her shirt, too.”

“Are you sure she’s alive?”

“I think so,” Daeng said. He held Logan’s gaze for a moment. “Logan, you were wrong.”

“About what?”

“This Mr. Bell isn’t just working with the men who came with him. There are at least half a dozen others in there. All farang .”

Logan couldn’t believe it. Elyse was right beyond that door. If there had only been the two men he’d expected, he and Daeng would have had an excellent chance at getting her out. But the two of them against eight? The only chance now would be one of total failure. “I need to see.”

Daeng hesitated a moment, then said, “There’s an enclosed area just beyond the door. If you don’t open it too wide, they shouldn’t notice.”

They switched places, then Logan slowly opened the door.

Beyond the enclosed space was a large room similar to the one upstairs, except this one had several tables and some chairs spread around. He spotted Elyse right away. Her chair was just within his line of sight, toward the center of the room. She was angled so that he could see mostly a front view of her. There was indeed blood on her shirt. Not as much as he feared, but more than he would have liked.

He stared at her until he saw her chest move up and down, glad for the confirmation that she was alive. It did nothing for his overall feeling of frustration, though.

He turned his attention to the rest of the room. Sitting just behind Elyse were two men he’d never seen before, and clear across the room near the corner were several others. Perhaps Bell had gotten scared when Ryan had disappeared, or when he was unable to contact Williams and Dean back in the States. Or perhaps he’d always planned on having extra help for the scheduled hand off.

Logan pulled back into the hallway, and silently closed the door.

It didn’t really matter what the reason was for the increase in manpower. It meant only one thing.

Logan’s job had just become considerably more complicated.

38

Logan and Daeng were back at the roadside restaurant. Across the street, everything at the compound had returned to normal, their diversionary group of Burmese refugees having walked off as soon as Daeng had given them the signal.

Four hours , Logan thought. Probably more like three and a half by that point.

They had to assume that was when Elyse was going to be turned over to someone else. Once she was in the others’ hands, Logan’s chances of getting her back dropped to near zero. So three and a half hours was all the time he had to free her.

Without a platoon of commandos, getting her out of the compound wasn’t an option. And while Daeng had proven resourceful in obtaining help, access to elite soldiers was a little beyond his reach. So that left two options: grab her while she was being transported to the handoff point, or do it at the handoff point itself. While Logan didn’t want it to come down to the last minute, he felt there were too many ways she could get injured or even killed if they made the attempt while she was riding in a car.

Like it or not, the hand off point was the most logical place to make their move. Or would have been if Logan had actually known where it was.

As he tossed around a few generic plans with Daeng, something in the back of his mind tugged at him, demanding attention.

He looked out at the road again, focusing on nothing as he attempt to let whatever was hovering back there come forward.

Slowly, he started to remember. It was something he’d heard. While he was…in the building across the street. When…

When I’d been listening at the hole. That was it.

He’d been listening to the conversation coming up through the first floor.

It wasn’t the thing about the four hours. That he hadn’t forgotten.

It was after.

Right after.

… more, if we haven’t heard from the woman by then….

The woman.

He’d assumed at the time the speaker had been talking about whoever it was they were supposed to be meeting. But wasn’t it possible it meant something else?

Something more straightforward? Like…

“No,” he said softly to himself.

“What?” Daeng asked.

Logan stared into the distance for a moment longer, then glanced at Daeng. “Give me a minute.” Pulling out his phone, he called his father.

“Hello?” his dad said.

“Is Tooney still staying with you?”

“Logan?”

“Dad, please. Is he?”

“Yeah. He’s still here.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“He might be asleep.”

“Now, Dad.”

“Sure, sure. Hold on.”

Logan looked down at the table, hoping that he was wrong.

“Yes, Logan?” Tooney voice sounded old and resigned, like he was expecting bad news.

“When I talked to my father yesterday he said your daughter was on her way to Thailand. Do you know if she made it yet?”

“Sein? I believe so.”

“Do you know specifically where she was going?”

“Everything I find out from other daughter. Sein not talk to me again after she call about Elyse.”

“Tooney, I need to know where she is.”

Tooney paused. “Can you wait? I call Anka.”

“I’ll stay on the line.”

Logan glanced at Daeng, and could see his new friend was putting the pieces together, too.

Less than a minute later, Tooney came back on. “Anka says Sein in Chiang Mai.”

Logan closed his eyes. He was right. “Do you know where?”

“Hotel called NS Guest House.”

“Do you have a cell number for her?”

Tooney gave it to him, then said, “Do you think…is Elyse…”

“I’m doing everything I can,” Logan said.

A pause. “I know you are. Thank you. I wait to hear from you again.” Tooney hung up.

Logan dialed Sein’s number, but the call went directly to a voicemail message that merely restated the phone number. After the beep, but before he could even start leaving a message, a recorded voice cut in and told him, “Mailbox full.”

“Dammit.” He looked at Daeng. “Does your friend here know of a place in town called NS Guest House?”

Daeng spoke with the driver for a moment, then said, “He thinks he knows, but can make a phone call to be sure.” He paused. “He can do that on the way.”

• • •

As they headed back into town, Daeng asked, “Can I see those papers again?”

Logan had almost forgotten about the pages he’d taken from Aaron’s bag. Earlier, he’d stuffed them into a mesh holder on the back of the seat in front of him. He pulled the packet out, and handed it to Daeng.

After Daeng read for a moment, he said, “The oil rights are for an area off the Burma coast. The payment for the rights is a little vague, though. Money, yes, but there is an extra condition. It’s only alluded to, but not stated.”

“Who’s the contract between?” Logan asked.

“The Burmese company name isn’t important. Ultimately, it has to be controlled by the Myanmar generals.”

“But who’s buying the rights?”

Daeng flipped through the pages.

“It should be right there on the front, shouldn’t it?” Logan asked.

“I would think so, but the company’s name isn’t mentioned. There’s a signature at the end, but I can’t read it.”

He held it up, but Logan couldn’t read it either.

“It must be this Lyon Exploratory place,” Logan said. “They just don’t want their name in print.”

“Possibly.”

Logan thought for a moment, then pulled out his cell phone, and opened the web browser. But after several tries, he realized it wasn’t working. Apparently he could get calls and texts, but no overseas Internet access.

“Can you get on the web on your phone?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Logan held out his hand. “Do you mind?”

Daeng hesitated for only a second, then hit a couple of buttons on the screen of his phone, and put the phone in Logan’s palm.

Logan brought up Google, and typed in Lyon Exploratory Research, then hit Search. The top result was the company’s website. He went there.

The company’s main focus seemed to be geological research—finding things like oil fields and mineral deposits, but not, as far as he could tell, actually pulling what they found out of the ground. He went back to the search results, and started scrolling through. He was halfway down the third page when a link jumped off the screen at him. He clicked on it, and read the accompanying article.

When he was through, he looked up. “Son of a bitch,” he said under his breath. It all finally made sense.

By the time he finished telling Daeng what he’d discovered, they reached the small side street where the NS Guest House was located. Since the road was so narrow, it was easier for Logan and Daeng to get out, and walk down.

As they headed over, Daeng said, “Those bastards.”

“Yeah.”

“We need to stop them.”

“We do.”

“We need people to know.”

Logan nodded. “They will.”

The hotel was a modest, four story place squeezed between apartment buildings near the center of the city. There was an opening in the wall right in front, and a sign that read:

NS GUEST HOUSE

Welcome

They turned onto the walkway and found themselves under an L-shaped veranda that skirted around a swimming pool. Ahead of them was the reception desk, and under the veranda where it jutted to the right beyond the pool were several tables, three of which were occupied. At one was a young Caucasian couple eating a meal, at another a solitary Asian man reading a newspaper, and at the third four larger Asian men, none of whom were drinking or eating or even talking. In fact, what they were doing was watching Logan and Daeng.

When the two of them reached the front desk, they were greeted by a casually dressed Thai man with shoulder length hair, a goatee, and tattoos running up both arms. “Welcome NS Guest House. You need rooms? We have very nice ones.”

“We’re looking for one of your guests,” Logan said.

If the man was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “Sure. What is their name?”

“It’s a woman. Sein Myat.”

This time the man’s smile faltered, and his eyes involuntarily flicked for a split second toward the four men sitting at the table. “Sorry. No guest with that name.”

“You didn’t check,” Logan said.

“Didn’t have to. I know all guests’ names. It’s my job.”

Daeng said something to the man in Thai. Logan tried to read the body language as their conversation went back and forth. It was obvious the man was nervous. Then he stopped in what sounded like mid-sentence, and his gaze moved to something beyond Logan’s shoulder. He gave a quick, tentative smile, bowed his head, then walked away from the counter.

When Logan turned, he expected to see the four big men standing behind him. Instead, he found the smaller man who’d been reading the newspaper.

“Can I help you?” the man said. His English was very clean and proper, but with the definite hint of an accent.

“I don’t know. Can you?” Logan asked. He was feeling more than a little annoyed. He needed to talk to Elyse’s mom as quickly as possible, not be delayed by a runaround.

The man smiled as if he were merely putting up with Logan. “You are looking for someone?”

“Yeah. We are.”

Daeng said something to him, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Thai.”

Daeng spoke again in a language Logan was pretty sure wasn’t Thai.