“Please, Kim, it’s an act,” countered Connor. “No one that drunk would be that lucid. Yuri barely slurred his words. He probably poured half a bottle of rum on his clothes and made sure he looked like hell in case the police were watching him.”

  “Why?”

  “So, they’d think he’s just another drunken ex-patriot fool and not waste their time on him. Yuri’s information was too precise to have come second-hand from one of his business associates. He’s got a contact working inside the base, and he’s covering for them.”

  “Okay, he’s thorough, smart, and a good actor.” Kim was silent momentarily, and then she glanced suspiciously around the restaurant. “Do you think we’re being watched?”

  Connor shook his head. “I doubt it. We’re nobodies. However, someone like our target for tonight is most likely on the police’s watch list. We’ll have to be extra careful tonight.”

  Kim leaned close. “Connor, you don’t think Yuri would sell us out, do you?”

  “As long as Jason keeps paying the bills, I think we’re safe. However, the instant the money stops flowing, we’re going to be truly on our own.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Kim and Connor strolled into the bar at the Millennium Hilton wearing clothes they had bought only hours ago from a high-end store near their hotel. Connor wore pressed, white trousers, with a white, open-necked shirt under a light beige jacket, while Kim sported a cream-colored outfit with a matching leather purse. A young lady in a white tuxedo escorted them to a table near the back of the circular lounge. Not only did it give them a great view of the city at night, but it also allowed them to see many of the other patrons. The mood in the bar was captivating. Tunes played by a small jazz band filled the air as elegantly dressed people from all over the world mingled, laughed, and drank.

  “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when Jason gets the bill for these clothes,” said Connor, imagining his former father-in-law reading the bill and having a fatal heart attack.

  “I call it the cost of doing business,” said Kim, looking around the room for Joseph Quinn. She soon spotted him sitting at a table with three women, barely out of their teens. The women wore far-too-revealing tops and laughed at every word Quinn said. Kim also noticed three half-empty bottles of champagne on their table. She thought of her sister and felt a flush of anger at the life she had once lived.

  “Have you got eyes on?” asked Connor, bringing her back.

  Kim nodded. “Yeah, he’s that fat loudmouth over by the band.”

  Connor moved in his seat and saw Quinn. He shook his head at the thought of Quinn with the three young prostitutes.

  A smiling waiter took their order before moving to the following table.

  Kim placed her purse on the table and pretended to look for something while she double-checked its contents. “I guess it’s time to get to work.”

  Connor nodded and carefully slipped his earpiece into place. He checked the feed coming from Kim’s contact lens on his cellphone and smiled at his partner. “I think we’re in business. Good luck and good hunting.”

  Kim went to get to her feet. “Quit worrying. It’ll be a walk in the park.”

  “That would be refreshing,” Connor quipped.

  “You know, before we met, everything used to go so smoothly; you must be some kind of jinx, Connor North.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  Kim stood and walked out of the bar, heading for the nearest elevator. From the information provided by Yuri, Kim knew Quinn was staying on the eighth floor, in room 811. She glanced at her watch and saw it was precisely 2300 hours. It was time to get to work. Kim boarded an elevator and lowered her head, feigning to look at her nails to avoid having her face recorded by a surveillance camera.

  The elevator began to slow.

  Kim took a deep breath through her nostrils and cleared her mind. All that mattered was getting in and out of Quinn’s room without being caught. The elevator doors opened, and Kim stepped out. She knew the hotel’s cameras would record everything she did, so Kim pretended she was applying lipstick, which blocked most of her face from view, and strode toward Quinn’s room. At the door, she opened her purse, extracted a fake room card, and ran it over the door’s card reader. Kim’s card, programmed to override more than ninety percent of the world’s passcodes, effortlessly opened Quinn’s door. She opened the door, flipped on the lights, and stepped inside.

  “Oh God,” she muttered. The unmade bed and the filthy carpet were a mess. At least a dozen empty champagne bottles lay beside the bed: uneaten room service meals and women’s underclothes added to the clutter. Kim gagged at the smell of stale cigars floating in half-finished glasses of Scotch.

  “Someone’s having a good time,” said Connor in Kim’s ear.

  “If you say so. This place looks and smells worse than a pigsty.”

  “Don’t touch anything you don’t have to.”

  “Trust me; I won’t.”

  Kim slid on a pair of thin rubber gloves as she studied the room. She walked over to a cupboard with slightly ajar doors and gently pushed the doors open. Kim smiled. The hotel may have been expensive to stay in, but the safe in Quinn’s room was run-of-the-mill. The safe had a universal numbered keypad for a lock. Kim thought about using her thermal scanner, but knowing nothing about Quinn, she opted for something else and dug out a small can of breath freshener. Kim held it about six inches from the keypad and depressed the actuator valve. Instead of breath freshener, liquid nitrogen shot out, instantly freezing the thin metal around the lock.

  “That should do,” said Kim, sliding the empty spray can back into her purse.

  “Uh, Kim, how are you doing?” asked Connor. He sounded on edge.

  “I’m almost done. Why?”

  “Because that goon we saw at DuFour’s and again in Switzerland is here.”

  Kim’s nerves heightened. “Has he seen you?”

  “Not yet; he seems to be looking for someone in the bar.” There was a slight pause. “But I don’t think it’s me.”

  Kim didn’t like what she was hearing. DuFour’s man seemed to be a like a shadow. Wherever they went, he was there too. “Head back to the lobby. I’ll be down shortly.”

  “Got it. I’m on the move.”

  Kim looked around and picked up a heavy glass ashtray. She brought it up over her head and then slammed it down hard on the keypad. The metal all around it shattered like glass, exposing the contents of the safe.

  “Yes,” said Kim, pumping her fist in the air. She peered inside and saw several bags of cocaine, Quinn’s passport, a laminated pass, and several stacks of U.S. one-hundred-dollar bills. The thief in her wanted to help herself to the money, but she fought the urge and only grabbed the pass.

  “I’ve got the pass, and I’m on my way down,” she reported.

  “Great news. I’m waiting for you by the elevators.”

  Kim slipped the pass into her purse, removed her gloves, and calmly exited the room. She again lowered her head just enough that it would be hard for the hallway cameras to catch a good look at her face and made her way to the elevator. Kim pressed the down button and started to tap her foot on the carpet. Finally, the doors slid open, and Kim walked inside, relieved to find she was the only passenger. Her nervous tension faded as the floors counted down. All they had to do was walk out of the hotel, and they were free.

  “Evening,” said Connor as the doors parted and Kim joined her colleague.

  “Time to go,” remarked Kim with one eye on the bar, hoping DuFour’s man was still inside.

  They walked calmly through the lobby and stepped outside into the refreshing night air. The city streets seemed alive, with dozens of cars and taxis jostling for the right of way. At the same time, a multitude of street vendors vied for their attention.

  “What do you want to do?” asked Connor. “Walk or take a cab?”

  Kim bit her lip. “I think I’d prefer if we took a cab.”

  Connor nodded, turned to a white-jacketed hotel employee, slipped him a gratuitous tip, and asked him to hail them a cab.

  “Going somewhere?” said a man behind Kim and Connor with a strong French accent.

  Kim and Connor turned simultaneously and looked into the cold eyes of DuFour’s bodyguard.

  “You again,” muttered Connor darkly.

  “I thought it was you in the bar,” said the man to Connor. “Please let me introduce myself. My name is Jean Vallin, and you two have proven to be quite the challenge to find.”

  “I’m sorry if you’ve had such a difficult time finding us, but you’ll have to excuse us. We have a cab to catch.”

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t we go back inside and talk for a while?”

  Connor’s eyes narrowed when he spotted the small pistol in Vallin’s hand. “And if we don’t want to?”

  Vallin’s voice turned threatening. “Let’s not play dumb, Captain. Inside, now!”

  In a move neither man saw coming, Kim pretended to trip and fall into Vallin’s arm. Then, as fast as a cobra striking its prey, she jammed a mini-Taser in the form of a stun ring against Vallin’s neck and activated it, shocking the unsuspecting killer. In the blink of an eye, Vallin’s knees buckled, and his body shook from the powerful surge of electricity. The second Kim was satisfied Vallin was no longer a threat, she deactivated her Taser and stepped aside as Connor grabbed the Frenchman and lowered him to the ground.

  Connor feigned concern and yelled, “Help, this man needs a doctor!”

  An Asian gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair pushed his way through the crowd. “I’m a doctor,” he said. “What appears to be the problem?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Connor. “I think this man’s having a stroke.”

  “Let me take a look,” said the doctor, kneeling to examine Vallin.

  Kim and Connor saw their chance and smoothly faded into the crowd. They jumped into the first cab they saw, and both started to chuckle.

  “Where the heck did you get that ring?” asked Connor.

  “Switzerland,” replied Kim. “It was in the box Yuri gave us. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever use it, but here we are.”

  “Well, I’m glad you brought it with you tonight. Things were about to turn ugly back there.”

  “That man gives me the creeps. I don’t think he’s the kind of man to give up and walk away.”

  Connor nodded. “I know. I’ll call Yuri. For starters, we’re going to need a new hotel.”

  “And after that?”

  “I don’t know, but we’d best be ready for anything tomorrow. And I do mean anything.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “What a night,” griped Connor, getting to his feet. He slowly rotated his aching neck, listening to the vertebrae pop.

  Kim opened her tired eyes and leaned forward in her wobbly plastic chair. “This is not what I had expected when Yuri said he had a safe house in Bangkok, but as they say, any port in a storm will do.”

  Connor looked around their tiny, one-room apartment and shook his head. “The only saving grace is that this place has a working toilet.”

  “Well, it’s better than being dead,” observed Kim, heading for the bathroom.

  Connor’s stomach growled as he checked the time. It was nearing six in the morning.

  Knock-knock-knock.

  Connor edged to the door and knocked twice in response.

  “Good morning,” said Yuri cheerfully from behind the closed door.

  “I hope you brought some food,” said Connor, unlocking the door. “I’m starving.”

  Yuri entered the apartment, carrying two paper bags and three cups of coffee in a cardboard tray. On his back was a small canvas pack. “I stopped by McDonalds on the way here. I got us something called the big breakfast. It has eggs and something that looks like a sausage patty.”

  “Right about now, that sounds like five-star dining.”

  “Is that coffee I smell?” said Kim, joining her partners.

  “Da, it is, pretty lady,” replied Yuri, handing her a cup.

  “Thanks,” said Kim, flipping off the lid so she could hold the cup under her nose and smell the aroma. “Thank God for coffee.”

  “Come, let’s eat. We have a lot to talk about,” suggested Yuri.

  They sat at a small plastic table and helped themselves to breakfast.

  “Okay, first things first,” said Yuri. “My contact tells me that the bulk of the people attending the auction later today are middlemen and women bidding on behalf of their clients, so you two should fit in just nicely.”

  “That’s a relief,” said Connor.

  Yuri looked at his accomplices. “Have either of you ever bid at an auction before?”

  “No,” said Kim.

  “Me neither, but we were prepared to in Switzerland,” replied Connor.

  Yuri tutted. “My friends, Switzerland is not the same as a secret base on the Cambodian border. You’re dealing with powerful and paranoid people who won’t think twice about killing either of you should they suspect anything wrong. So, I called Mister Knox late last night and arranged for a Swiss bank account to be opened. Upon arrival, Kirdpan’s people will undoubtedly ask for this information to prove you’re genuine bidders.”

  “Thanks,” said Kim. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Don’t relax just yet. If you could get a pass to tonight’s auction, so could that man you tased last night. So be careful. General Kirdpan’s base is well over three hundred kilometers from Bangkok. If anything goes wrong, there’s precious little that I’ll be able to do to help you.”

  “Yuri, let’s suppose something does go wrong,” mused Kim. “Can’t your contact help us?”

  “Nope,” said Yuri, firmly shaking his head. “When you leave here today, you’re on your own. I can’t risk exposing my network by giving you my contact’s name.”

  “Fair enough,” noted Connor. “But I’m with Kim; if we have to make a quick exit, is there somewhere we can go to ground until you reach us?”

  Deep in thought, Yuri chewed on his lower lip. “If you have to make a run for it, head south into Cambodia. It may take me a few days, but I promise I’ll find you.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Kim.

  “Of course. I’m not just a man who can obtain the obtainable; I’m also a damned good pilot. Trust me, I’ll find you.”

  Connor sipped his coffee and eyed Yuri’s pack. “What’s in the bag?”

  Yuri dragged the sack closer and opened the cover. “You’re lucky that Mister Hamilton is paying me a lot of money to keep you two supplied in the field.”

  Connor chuckled. “Yuri, this isn’t like the movies. Kim and I can’t fly from country to country carrying Tasers, bear spray, and ceramic knives without getting caught. Comms gear is easy to explain, the rest not so much.”

  “I know, but it sure would be a lot less expensive if you could.”

  Connor tapped his hand on the table. “Quit being cheap, and show us what you’ve brought.”

  “Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got,” added Kim.

  “Because you’re heading into the unknown, I have resupplied you with daggers and knives you can easily conceal on your bodies, along with some t-shirts made with liquid body armor.”

  “What about the pistol I asked for?” asked Connor.

  “Mister North, are you sure you want to bring a pistol into Kirdpan’s base?”

  “After what happened in Switzerland, yes, I am.”

  Yuri reluctantly placed a micro 9mm Sig Sauer pistol and an ankle holster beside Connor. “It’s your head if anything should go wrong.”

  “I know; that’s why I want to be armed,” responded Connor, picking up the pistol and inspecting it. It was lightweight and fit in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t something Connor was used to operating, but it would have to do.

  Kim placed Joseph Quinn’s stolen pass on the table. “Yuri, the information on the back of the card says that we’re to be at the Hotel Peninsula’s helipad at 1500 hours to be picked up by a chopper and flown to Ta Phraya. Is this information still up to date?”

  Yuri nodded. “As far as I know, nothing has changed.”

  Kim sat back and let out a deep breath. “Well, unless something drastically changes, I guess we’re off to Ta Phraya.”

  “All I can say is good luck,” said Yuri, offering his hand to Kim to shake.

  “Let’s hope we won’t need it,” she replied, shaking Yuri’s hand.

  “Knowing us, we’re going to need all the good luck we can muster,” said Connor, sliding his pistol into his ankle holster.

  “Ready?” Connor asked Kim as their elevator began to slow.

  “Quit asking; I’m nervous enough without you constantly asking how I’m doing,” replied Kim, needling her friend on the ribs with her elbow.

  “You know it’s not too late to call the whole thing off.”

  For his suggestion, Connor received an even harder shot in his ribs.

  The doors parted. A young woman in a white uniform, holding a scanner in her hand, greeted them. “Good afternoon, and welcome to the Hotel Peninsula’s helipad reception area. May I please see your pass?”

  “Of course,” responded Connor, handing over Quinn’s card.

  The woman scanned the pass and smiled. “Welcome, Mister Quinn. May I have the name of your guest for the flight manifest?”

  “Kim White,” he replied without hesitation.

  “Thank you,” said the receptionist, logging in Kim.

  The room was more spacious than Connor had expected. It had a comfortable lounge and a small museum’s worth of displays on the walls, covering the history of aviation in Bangkok. There were four other people in the reception area. Luckily, Vallin wasn’t among them. Connor and Kim decided to join the other passengers. They strolled over and pretended to be interested in the model of an old seaplane. No sooner had they stopped when a young waiter walked over and offered them a flute of champagne.

  “None for me,” said Connor.