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The taxi coasted to a stop, and Liu and Christine got out. The driver stepped from the car and moved to the trunk, lighting a cigarette as he did so. Smoking was the national pastime in China, and despite the health consequences, the population had one of the highest rates in the world. He opened the trunk and they retrieved their bags. Liu handed him a few bills, and he smiled and offered a small bow before heading back to his vehicle and driving off.

“Wasn’t it a risk to take a cab?” Christine whispered as they approached the plane.

“We had no choice. I couldn’t use my car. They may be looking for it by now.”

“And you have no idea why the MSS would be after you?”

“I do. But there’s nothing I can change at this point.”

She stopped in her tracks. “What have you done, Liu? Is this related to our thing?”

“Only tangentially. I think I underestimated the sophistication of their tech people.”

“What does that mean?”

He explained in a few terse sentences. By the time he was done, the blood had drained from her face.

“Liu…”

“Too late now, Christine. But do you see why we need to get out of here?”

“That’s the understatement of the year. You really think we’ll be safe in Thailand?”

“We can disappear, Christine. There are thousands of places off the beaten path.”

“What about money? After you run out?”

“Least of our problems. We could survive for a year on that in rural Thailand. Even cheaper in Cambodia.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

“Don’t worry. I have ways of getting more.”

“We’re about to take a secret night flight over the Golden Triangle, and you’re telling me not to worry? Are you serious?”

Liu stepped nearer. “Keep your voice down. For all we know, the pilot speaks English, too. A byproduct of your capitalist-run dog-lackey television shows.”

She couldn’t help but smile, reminded why she’d fallen so hard for him. He was blindingly smart, loyal, handsome, and charming in a roguish way. Tall for a Chinese, due to his family’s northern blood, he stood six feet, with a slacker mop of longish hair and stylish Western clothes. At twenty-nine he still looked like he was barely out of his teens, and she marveled again at how brilliant he was, as well as how unassuming — a powerfully attractive combination, Christine thought.

They neared the plane and Liu greeted the pilot. After a brief discussion about discreet destinations in Thailand and the route they’d fly, they agreed on Chiang Rai, near the Laos and Myanmar border, in northern Thailand — well away from the madding crowds. The pilot loaded their things into the small hold and they climbed aboard, Liu taking the copilot’s seat and Christine in the rear. After a few moments, the starter groaned and the engine burbled to life.

The pilot requested clearance from the tower and then taxied to the runway and accelerated along the smooth strip, rising into the sky before they were halfway down its length. They bounced from turbulence as the plane gained altitude, and eventually settled into a droning cruise at eight thousand feet.

The mountains and jungle beneath them were pitch black, no trace of humanity to be seen to the horizon. The pilot altered course to skirt pendulous clouds to the east, heavy with rain, and Christine leaned forward and yelled to Liu over the engine noise.

“How long will it take to get there?” she asked.

Liu translated and the pilot shrugged, tapping the air speed indicator. “Maybe two hours, maybe a little longer. There’s a headwind, so probably more.”

Liu relayed the information to Christine and turned back to the pilot. “Do you fly this area often?”

The pilot’s expression turned cagey. “From time to time.”

“No problem with Chinese or Myanmar airspace?”

The pilot shook his head. “No. At this altitude we’re unlikely to raise any alarms. The locals are used to unidentified flights around here. There are many dirt airstrips due to the drug trade. The governments destroy them periodically, and within a week new ones are cut from the jungle. It’s been going on forever.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re doing,” Liu said.

“As much as anyone. What we’ll do is drop to no more than a thousand feet off the canopy as we near the border. Safest bet if you don’t want to announce your arrival. Laos is largely unpatrolled, but occasionally Myanmar will have choppers around. Although I’ve heard lately that they’re so broke they can’t get parts, so who knows? And the section in our flight path is controlled by rebel forces, so the chances of anything but us flying around there at night are nil.”

“What about Thailand?”

“Oh, they’ll have us on radar, more than likely, but a few baht handed out to the right people on the ground will ensure no questions are asked. Thailand is sort of a live-and-let-live place. I filed a flight plan for Chiang Kham, but will claim that I had engine issues so had to land in Chiang Rai. Nobody will care as long as palms are greased.”

“And customs?”

“That can also be a matter of money. Depends on how badly you want to stay out of the system.”

Liu stared into the dark night. “Perhaps it would be best if we did.”

“Then get your wallet out. Anything’s possible, but nothing’s free.” The pilot paused. “We’re just crossing the mountain range that runs along the border. We’ll be out of Chinese airspace in a few more minutes, and then we’ll begin tapering off our altitude. Highest point along this course is six thousand feet, so we’re actually still pretty close even at this height.”

The plane bucked when it hit some rough air, and the pilot peered through the windshield at a line of thunderheads ahead. Their outlines stretched high into the heavens, blocking the stars from view. He eyed his compass and banked to the right while dropping. Flashes of lightning pulsed in the clouds, and he stabbed a finger in their direction.

“We’re better off giving those a wide berth. It can get ugly quickly.”

“There’s no problem going off course?” Liu asked.

“Adds a little time, but are you in a particular hurry?”

“Better safe than sorry, right?”

They watched as the pilot took them down before settling at a thousand feet above the mountainous terrain below. From that distance they could make out the tops of the trees in the faint moonlight, punctuated by barren patches and the occasional peak of a rocky outcropping.

The pilot was adjusting a knob when a loud explosion shook the plane. The windshield cracked from metal shards and the engine alarm sounded as the prop pinwheeled away into the night. The pilot’s eyes widened in shock, and he battled with the flaps as the plane pitched downward.

Liu’s hand flew to his face, where blood seeped from a laceration in his forehead. His voice was a strangled cry when he managed words. “Oh, my God! What happened?”

The pilot gritted his teeth and yelled, “Something on the engine blew. We’re going down.”

“No…,” Liu said as flames licked from the engine compartment and smoke poured from the ruined fuselage.

“We can glide, but it’s going to be a hard landing,” the pilot warned, eyeing the altimeter, which was unwinding as the plane dropped toward the earth. Christine gripped the seat, her face frozen in speechless fear.

“Do you see anyplace we can set down safely?” Liu asked, and then a second explosion rocked the aircraft, and it pitched toward the rapidly rising landscape.