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The matronly woman who had hit the child approached them.

“Why you here? What you want? You want a girl? Two? Maybe a boy?”

Rob shook his head, but Jet reached out and gripped his arm.

“We’re actually looking for something a little more…exotic,” she said, hesitating on the last word.

“Ahh. Ladyboy? You wanna ladyboy?”

“Mmm, no. What else do you have?”

The mama-san’s eyes narrowed to slits. Jet could see her calculating, looking them over, trying to assess how much money they might have.

“I get you anything you want. Anything.” She put an emphasis on anything.

Jet leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear.

She recoiled and then gave Jet a smile.

“That’s not cheap.”

“I didn’t expect a bargain.”

“Maybe I can get that for you.”

“I saw a little girl over by the bathroom. She would do,” Jet said.

“Oh, you have good taste, but very expensive. She just in. Unspoiled.” The woman’s English had suddenly improved now that this was a negotiation. Three minutes later, they had agreed on a price for a room in the back and an hour with the girl.

Jet murmured into Rob’s ear, his face blank, and then he nodded and took her hand, following the woman into the back of the club.

The room was larger than she would have thought, and featured a small bathroom with a shower and a bed with fresh linen. Mirrors on the walls gave it a funhouse feel, which she was sure was unintentional. She did a quick inspection to ensure there were no cameras or listening devices, pulling the mirrors away from the wall to confirm they weren’t two-way, then turned to Rob.

“What the hell are you doing? Why get a child? Have you lost your mind?” he demanded.

“Shh. I have my reasons. Now don’t say anything more until they bring her.”

Two minutes later, there was a light knock at the door, and then the child opened it, eyes averted, and she stepped into the room. Jet moved to the door and locked it. She knew the club would have a key, but they would only open it if it was an emergency. The girl was on her own.

She moved to the edge of the bed and then looked up at Jet, whose heart lurched. Beautiful brown eyes gazed at her, terrified but resigned, and then she began pulling her dress over her head.

“No. No. Rob. Tell her she doesn’t have to do anything. Tell her,” Jet whispered.

Rob fired off a rapid fire burst of Thai, and the girl looked confused. She stopped trying to disrobe and looked at Jet quizzically. Rob turned to Jet. “Now what?”

“Ask her what her name is.”

Rob did so.

Jet could barely hear her response. Rob repeated it.

“Lawan. It means beautiful in Thai.”

“How old is she, and how long has she been here?”

Rob asked, and the girl murmured another soft few words.

“She says she’s almost eleven and she’s been here for a week.”

“How did she get here?”

More discussion.

“Her father sold her to some men, who brought her to Bangkok.”

“Sold her?”

“She says they were hungry for many days. So her father did what he had to in order to keep everyone alive.”

Jet bit back the cold fury that was threatening to explode from her.

“What has her week been like?”

The discussion lasted ten minutes, with Lawan describing the trip south, then being put to work in the club. As she went on, Jet seethed with rage. The little girl had been bought and sold like an animal. Even dogs were treated better. She slept on a mat in a tiny back room with several other children who were in similar circumstances. Lawan was the youngest. The others were twelve and thirteen, a boy and a girl. Lawan said she didn’t like either of them. They had emotional problems — the little boy was always angry, and the girl didn’t communicate.

“Tell her that we just want to talk to her. She doesn’t have to do anything. I want to know what she’s seen here, and everything about her,” Jet said, sitting on the bed after pacing the floor while listening to Lawan’s account.

Rob translated, and they spent the rest of the hour talking to her, listening to a story that was as tragic as it was commonplace.

“What can we do, Rob? How can we get the police involved? This has to be stopped.”

“I’ll ask Edgar, but my hunch is that, given the amount of protection Lap Pu has, they will have disappeared by the time anyone gets around to conducting a raid, assuming that any raid ever took place. This is one of those sad truisms of life here. Sometimes there isn’t anything you can do. It’s sickening, but true.”

“That’s not good enough. There’s always something you can do.”

“I know, but reality is that as horrible as this is, it’s not part of our mission. You know that. We need to concentrate on the objective.”

He was right. She knew it. This was a distraction they couldn’t afford. The logic of it was clear. But sometimes logic wasn’t everything.

“Rob, I want you to tell her that we’re sorry she is here, and that I’ll be back to help her at some point. I don’t know how, but I will.”

“I’m not going to tell her that. She’ll tell someone eventually, and then they’ll just move her, and that will be it. And not to be redundant, but again, that’s not our mission.”

She counted to ten, calming herself.

“You’re right, Rob. I’m sorry. It just makes me crazy to see this.”

“I know. It’s not doing anything for me, either.”

Jet got onto her knees, and Lawan came to her. She held the little girl’s trembling frame for a brief eternity, and when Lawan stepped away, a tear rolled down her cherubic cheek. Jet’s eyes moistened, but she shook it off and stood.

“Tell her that if anyone asks, all we wanted her to do was watch us. Think she can manage that?” Jet asked.

“I doubt anyone will ask, but okay, I’ll tell her.”

Precisely one hour after Lawan had arrived, another knock sounded at the door. She shuffled to the knob and unlocked it, and then threw Jet one final look, a combination of sadness, fear and misery. Jet took a deep breath and steeled herself. The mama-san entered and looked at the bed, which they had rumpled so it look used, and then inquired whether they would want anything more. Rob told her that no, everything was good. As they were leaving the rear area, two beefy bodyguards in double-breasted suits moved towards them down the wide hall, and they stepped aside. The goons brushed past them, trailed by a diminutive man in his late fifties, thick silver hair slicked back with gel, wearing a burgundy silk jacket and black slacks. Lap Pu was instantly recognizable from the photos she’d seen, but she didn’t blink when their eyes locked for a fleeting second. She turned to Rob and laughed, then whispered something, smiling. Pu’s gaze drifted past her, and then another guard brought up the rear, the bulge of his weapon straining the material of his suit.

Once back in the booth, Rob ordered another beer for them both and then leaned forward, as if telling Jet a joke.

“That was about as close as you could ask to get. But it looks like he’s got the troops with him. Good luck getting a tracking chip on him. That was a swell idea, but now…well, it looks pretty much impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible. But I agree that now’s not the time. We need to find his car and figure out a way to get the chip on it so we can find his house. I’ll need a distraction. Here’s where you earn your keep. Got any ideas?” she asked.

“I think we-”

The waitress interrupted them with two more cold beers, and by the time she’d collected payment, the music started blaring again. Time for more of the show.