“That’s fine, but it could take too long. I’m thinking I need to get my hands dirty and start nosing around at the street level,” Jet said.
“Fair enough. Arthur wanted me to tell you that he’s allocated a resource for you to use. An experienced field agent who speaks perfect Thai and who has a lot of depth in sanctions.”
Jet bristled. “Absolutely not. I work alone. He knows that.”
“He thought you would feel that way. He gave me a message — you should call him for more detail, but this isn’t negotiable. Look. I know this guy. He’s extremely good, knows the lay of the land, and it will make any information-gathering way easier due to the language and also because a couple looking for some kinky fun is way more believable than a woman alone asking questions. Think it through.”
Jet had to concede that he had a point. It was a far more plausible cover. But she still had no idea who she could trust and who Hawker might have compromised.
“Is he Caucasian?”
“Yes. A local would raise eyebrows. This way you could be husband and wife or girlfriend and boyfriend looking for something exotic and forbidden. A lot of couples come over looking for a little spice. It’s not that unusual. But never a Thai couple — it would be socially unacceptable, or at least harder to explain, especially given that you don’t speakee speakee.”
“Who is this agent?”
“I’ll introduce you tonight or tomorrow, if you like. His name’s Rob Phillips. Twenty-nine, been here for six years. Smart, quick and dependable.”
“How much contact did he have with Hawker?”
“None. He was in the south, Hawker ran the north. Need-to-know and all that. We don’t have an annual dinner or anything for spooks. I probably wouldn’t know half the people working here, and I’ve been the top dog since Hawker went off the reservation.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. He’s clean.” Edgar paused. “You take my satchel when we get out of the boat. There’s a satellite phone in there, along with a Beretta, as you requested, and a butterfly knife.”
Jet nodded. “Ammo?”
“Fifty rounds. I’ll get you whatever else you need within twenty-four hours of you asking for it.” He smiled. “We aim to deliver good service here in the Far East…”
“Silencer?”
“Yes. As you stipulated. But try not to use the Beretta here. The Thai police tend to be very anti-gun in the hands of a farang.” Edgar hesitated. “How much do you know about Thailand and Thai culture?”
“Just what I read on the flight over.”
“This is a very polite society, at least on its surface. Everyone smiles at you, and it’s conflict avoidant. Nobody is direct about anything — it’s considered impolite. But as a foreigner we’re farangs. And Thais view farangs as fat, dumb, clumsy barbarians — which I suppose is true of many examples they see of us. It’s a racist society, too, as are most. Darker skin from the north is lower class, and there is tremendous class consciousness. Lighter skin, like yours, would be viewed as superior. But if you’re a foreigner, you’re almost subhuman from their standpoint — although part of the weird self-hatred that’s endemic to the culture is that marrying a white man or woman would be viewed as elevating one’s station in life. Mainly because it’s a society that worships money, and most white foreigners have more money than the average Thai.”
Jet shook her head. “I’m not planning on marrying anyone here.”
“I’m telling you this because you need to recognize that, in this environment, you’re the minority, so you have little chance of anyone opening up to you. Even though you look like you could be part Thai, you don’t speak it, so you’ll be treated like a farang, which means that you’ll be smiled at a lot but also lied to about anything that matters. It’s just the way it is.” Edgar increased his pace on the pedals, and Jet matched him. “If you have any problems, it will be automatically assumed that whatever happened is your fault. In any sort of situation where it’s a question of a Thai or you, the Thai will win. You need to understand that you’re operating at a distinct disadvantage at all times, and err on the side of caution, or this could go very badly for you before you’ve even begun your mission.”
“I appreciate the background, and I’ll watch my step, but I still don’t like the idea of dead weight tagging along with me.”
“Rob’s not dead weight. He’s anything but.”
“He’s a kid.”
Edgar smiled grimly. “So are you.”
Jet conceded the point. “I probably have more experience than the average fifty-year-old agent.”
“Perhaps. Obviously, Arthur is hoping that will make a difference. Time will tell.”
“Let’s head over to the far shore,” Jet said, and they adjusted course. “So what’s your plan for meeting this Rob tonight?”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d say hook up at a restaurant. A crowd. Although I know you’re staying at the Dynasty. The Die-Nasty, the locals call it.”
She was annoyed that he knew where she was staying, but then remembered. “That’s right. The tracking chip.”
“I’m the only one who has access to that info.”
“Except for Arthur. And whoever is doing the actual tracking. Which is three more people than I’m comfortable with. It’s a stupid idea. Invites disaster.”
“I’m afraid it’s not subject to debate.”
“I know.”
It took them six minutes to cross the pond in the swan boat, and when they bumped land Jet scooped up the satchel and stood.
“Sorry about the sandwich remnants,” Edgar said. “I also stuck a cell phone in there for you. I’m speed dial number two. There are no other numbers on it.”
“I guess since I’m one huge GPS tracking beacon right now, I don’t need to worry about the cell phone being a liability.”
“Freeing, isn’t it?” Edgar’s smile had no trace of genuine humor.
“I’ll call later to find out where my dream date is going to take place tonight.”
“Give Rob a chance. You may find that he’s not so bad.”
Jet stepped onto the shore and disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians moving around the water on the perimeter path.
Edgar fished a phone out of his windbreaker.
“How did it go?”
“She agreed to the meet, but I think she’s suspicious.”
“Of course she’s suspicious. She’s not an idiot,” Arthur said.
“She wasn’t happy.”
“No, I bet she wasn’t. Do you think we’ll have a problem?”
“Too soon to know. I read her the riot act about the locals. I hope she’s as good as you say or she’s going to be eaten alive before she gets within a hundred miles of the jungle.”
“She is.”
Chapter 11
Raffle’s was bursting with diners lapping up the faux-British atmosphere. Black-and-white photographs of David Niven in cinematic triumph adorned flock-papered walls that brayed a shade gaudier than the hues of the green and pleasant land it strove to emulate. An insufferably arrogant hostess showed Jet to a table, in keeping with the behavior Thais believed would be authentically representative of the UK. Jet didn’t have the heart to break it to the girl that the food there was generally regarded as horrible. Let her have her moment.
A young man with neatly-trimmed hair and a deep tan stood as she approached, then waited until she took a seat before joining her. She looked around, confirming that nobody was within earshot.
“So you’re Rob.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rob said, affecting an obviously fake smile.
“Sure it is. What have you been told about me and why I’m here?”
“Just what you would expect.”
“Then you should know I don’t work with a partner.”
“It was mentioned.”
“Yet here you are.”