Most of the tourists remained at the bottom of the massive structure. With steps that rose up almost like a ladder, he guessed the stones would be very slippery with the rain. He remembered them being quite slick just from the humidity the last time he was here.
He grabbed onto the rail on the left side and started climbing. About halfway up his left knee, the synthetic one, nearly gave out on him and he almost fell.
Water dripped down his face and into his eyes. He wished he had worn his hat. But at least his hair was short now and would dry in seconds. His clothes were another matter, with his shirt sticking to his skin and his pants tight against his thighs as he climbed higher.
As Jake reached the top of the first level, some fifty feet high, he stopped and looked up to the next level. He didn’t think Remington would go any higher. No, he would meet on this level. Just as that thought came to him, a dark figure appeared from around the outside edge. The temple had been designed so folks could circumnavigate the entire structure and get views of the surrounding area from any direction.
The dark figure came closer, and Jake could finally see that it was Bill Remington. He was wearing suit pants, probably custom made from the tailor, and a white silk shirt that was also stuck to his skin revealing his hairy chest beneath.
“Jake Adams. It’s been a while.”
Yes, it had. Jake had actually been hired by the CIA two years before Remington. Their paths had crossed only rarely over the years, since Jake had worked mostly Europe and Russia, and Remington’s area of expertise had always been the Pacific Rim. Whereas Jake had gotten out of the Agency early, Remington had worked his way up the chain until he was only one rung below the director.
They were now just a few feet away, the distance reserved for friends and lovers.
“You really didn’t think you could run away from the Agency,” Jake said.
Remington laughed. “So far I have. But then they sent you.”
“And?”
“And you are one relentless son of a bitch.”
“Is that why you just decided to let me come to you?”
“Partly. I knew you would eventually catch up to me. I would lose a number of my people and we might get lucky and kill you.” He shook his head. “That’s way too much blood.”
Jake kept his eyes open for danger. With his peripheral vision he could see if anyone approached from his right, and he could look past Remington for anyone coming from the other direction.
“Why did you do it?” Jake asked.
“Do what? Get rich?”
“Betray your country.”
Remington shook his head side to side. “I didn’t.”
They stared at each other, Jake checking Remington’s face for some angle to get out of this. Maybe Alexandra was right. Jake couldn’t help thinking that if he just pulled the gun from his back and shot this man in the face the world would be a far better place. But that wasn’t his mandate. He had agreed to bring Remington in for interrogation.
“What if I told you this was a grand scheme to ingratiate myself with the Chinese?”
“I’d say you were full of shit.”
The wind and rain picked up even more, making it seem like they were on the bow of a ship.
“It’s true, Jake. I’ll come with you, but I have some unfinished business in Cambodia. I have to go to Siem Reap in the morning.”
“Right. Cambodia has no extradition agreement with America.”
Remington moved even closer to Jake. His tone was reserved now, almost like a kid trying to explain his indiscretions to a parent. “You’ve got to believe me, Jake. I’m working with a man named Wu Gang. He’s a former Chinese general in their intelligence directorate.”
Jake had never heard of the guy, but that wasn’t unusual considering his own area of expertise. “Former?”
“Just like you’re former, Jake. The man is now a billionaire. One of that country’s new elite.”
Thinking for a moment about the Chinese connection Alexandra had made in Munich, he wondered anew if this was all connected. He knew that China was making big moves in the military and economically. When the Russians were still considered a superpower, their economy had never been a huge success. So America had simply outspent the Russians to win the Cold War. But the Chinese could actually pay for their new and improved military. Still, Jake was having a hard time wrapping his mind around Remington’s case.
“So, the Chinese paid you for our secrets,” Jake said. “What can you do for them now?”
Remington simply cocked his head to one side, speechless.
“You’ve got nothing more to give them.”
“Knowledge is power in this business,” Remington assured Jake.
“True. But your knowledge will quickly dry up as the Agency changes its operations.”
“As you probably know, I still have a lot of friends in the business.”
“Oh, we know that. I’ve crossed paths with a number of them already.” Jake knew Remington was feeding him a line of crap, but for some reason he felt sorry for the guy. He was a man without a country. Yet, this was all Remington’s fault. The man had sold out his own Agency, his own country. He would get what he deserved.
With the wind howling and the rain pelting Jake relentlessly, it took him a moment to understand what had happened when Bill Remington dropped to the stone surface of the Wat Arun temple. When Jake suddenly realized that the echo was from a high powered rifle, he sank to his good right knee and drew his gun.
The second bullet struck the metal railing and ricocheted somewhere.
Jake checked for a pulse on Remington. Nothing. Damn it!
After the third bullet whizzed by Jake’s head, he reacted like any normal human being. He got the hell out of there.
17
Jake pushed his body against the back wall to try to get out of the shooter’s sight path, and then he rushed toward the back stairs. With the shots fired, people below were screaming and running in all directions.
As Jake peered over the edge of the stairs, he saw a shooter aiming at him.
Two shots flashed up toward Jake.
He backed from the edge and then with a quick motion he poked his gun over and shot back two times. He was stuck and realized it was a mistake to meet Remington here, where he would have no escape. The shooters could just wait for the police to show up and retreat at the last second, leaving Jake at the top of the temple with a gun and a dead American and no reasonable explanation.
Then he heard more gunshots below. In two directions. Alexandra. She was laying down cover fire for him.
Peering over the edge again, Jake saw the other shooter now aiming toward Alexandra’s position.
Move, Jake. He rushed down the wet stairs, almost slipping and falling a number of times.
The shooter, a man, turned and fired at Jake.
But Jake was ready for him. He shot twice, making the guy scoot around the edge of the stairs. But when he did this, two shots from across a grassy area echoed through the night air. Jake could hear the distinct sound of bullet hitting flesh, so he continued to the bottom.
“Jake,” came a woman’s voice. “Over here.”
Rushing through the dark, across wet grass, Jake kept his gun at the ready as he hurried toward Alexandra’s position.
Suddenly, more shots rang out from Jake’s left.
Alexandra returned fire, quieting those shooters.
Jake found Alexandra against a trinket kiosk. He crouched down and caught his breath for a moment.
“What the hell happened?” Alexandra asked, her gun still covering the both of them.
“Remington is dead.”
“You shot him?”
“No. Someone down here shot him.”
“I thought that person was shooting at you.”
“I think that was Remington’s people. They must have also thought I shot the man.” He paused to catch his breath. He was getting too old for this crap. “Come on. We need to get the hell out of here.”