World of Trouble (9786167611136) (21 page)

Talking to Tommy wouldn’t help him very much,
Shepherd knew, but talking to Tommy would get him in to see Tommy’s
boss. And that was a different matter altogether.

He could call Kate directly, at least he
thought he could, but approaching her through Tommy seemed a better
way to reach her for at least two reasons. First, Kate was the
Director General of the Thai National Intelligence Agency, not
exactly the sort of person you rang up and expected to be put
through to right away. And second, he and Kate had a history of
sorts. The problem was, Shepherd wasn’t entirely certain they both
saw that history in exactly the same way.

Kate wouldn’t necessarily tell him what she
knew about why Adnan was murdered just because he asked her to. But
then again, she might. Particularly if she thought he might be in
danger, too. They had a healthy enough history for that. At least
he thought they did.

There were not many Thai women in government,
fewer still in powerful positions, and absolutely none as gorgeous
and refined as Kate. Governments rose and fell in Thailand with
monotonous regularity, but Kate had remained in control of NIA for
more than four years while three prime ministers had come and gone.
Shepherd knew some people wondered why. He guessed it was pretty
simple. By now Kate must have gotten enough on the shifting cast of
ignorant, corrupt Thai politicians to have the blundering old fools
in mortal terror of her. This attractive, elegant, soft-voiced
woman, not yet forty years old, was probably the J. Edgar Hoover of
Thailand.

After poking around a little online, Shepherd
found a four o’clock flight to Bangkok the next afternoon. It
arrived around 6:00
P.M.
and then there
was an overnight flight from Bangkok to Dubai that left at 2:00
A.M.
That would give him nearly eight
hours between flights. More than enough time to get back and forth
from the airport, meet with Kate somewhere, and ask her what he
needed to ask. And doing it that way had the additional advantage
of letting him keep his promise to Charlie to come back to Dubai as
soon as he finished everything he needed to do. He would just skip
over mentioning to Charlie that making a stopover in Bangkok to
meet with Kate was one of the things he needed to do.

Shepherd booked first class seats for himself
on both flights and then took out his phone to call Tommy. Maybe
Tommy could even arrange for him to bypass Thai immigration and
save him from standing in those long, slowly creeping lines at the
Bangkok airport. Of course the little weasel could arrange for him
to bypass immigration. He would damn well insist on it.

SOMEWHAT TO SHEPHERD’S surprise, everything was
arranged in Bangkok exactly the way he had asked. As soon as the
aircraft door opened a dark-skinned man wearing gold-rimmed
sunglasses and a white shirt with a blue tie slipped inside and
scanned the first class cabin. He held a brief, whispered
conversation with a stewardess in the forward galley and she turned
and pointed at Shepherd. Shepherd fought back the impulse to
wave.

The man led Shepherd out into the loading
bridge while the flight attendants held the other passengers on the
plane. He opened a small door set into one side of the bridge and
pointed to a set of metal stairs attached to its exterior. A big
black Mercedes was waiting on the parking apron at the bottom of
the stairs. The windows were so heavily tinted it was impossible to
see who was inside, but Shepherd figured he could guess.

The driver got out as Shepherd came down the
stairs and opened the right rear passenger door. He was a serious
looking guy, not so much big as barrel-chested and solid. He had a
close-cropped military-style haircut and wore a black safari suit.
Shepherd nodded at him and slid into the backseat of the car.

“It’s been a while,” Tommy said. He didn’t
offer his hand.

“You don’t sound too sorry about that,”
Shepherd said. He didn’t offer his hand either.

“Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. I like
you, Jack, but let’s face it. When you lived here, you were a pain
in the goddamn ass.”

The Mercedes pulled away from the plane and
followed a road marked out with yellow lines painted on the tarmac,
one that was used primarily for luggage carts and catering
vans.

“I checked a bag,” Shepherd said. “We need to
go by baggage claim.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean, don’t worry about it? I
don’t want to lose my suitcase.”

“We’ve already pulled it from the aircraft.
It’s in the back.”

Shepherd nodded, impressed in spite of
himself. They drove parallel with the terminal building until they
passed the last loading bridge, then they made a right and after
that another right and passed through a sliding chain-link gate. A
half dozen soldiers stood to one side and saluted the darkened
windows of the car. The soldiers were in full battle dress and had
automatic weapons slung across their chests.

“What’s with the storm troopers?” Shepherd
asked.

Tommy shot him a look. “What’s that supposed
to mean?”

“You’ve got heavily armed troops guarding the
airport. It looks like somebody is expecting trouble.”

“That’s exactly what we’re expecting. Maybe
you should tell your pal that we’re ready for him.”

“I don’t do politics, Tommy. I’m just a
lawyer who manages money.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that shit from you before,
Jacko. You can’t wipe the mud off that easy. Lie down with dogs,
get up with fleas.”

“You got anymore clichés you want to toss out
while I’m still listening?”

“Yeah, try this one. Go fuck yourself.”

“Hey,” Shepherd said, spreading his hands, “I
thought you said you liked me.”

“I lied, asshole.”

***

WITHIN MINUTES THEY were out of the airport and
speeding down the expressway into Bangkok. The big Mercedes was
like the QE2 cutting through a fleet of dinghies, and the hood
ornament held the setting sun like a gun sight. Out of the corner
of his eye, Shepherd looked Tommy over. He had a soft, almost pink
face, and he wore plain, black-rimmed glasses. His dark hair was
neatly cut and he was conservatively dressed in a dark suit that
was neither snappy nor expensive, a white shirt, and a plain tie
with a muted pattern. He looked like he could have been just about
anybody which, when Shepherd thought about it, was probably what
made him good at what he did. Still, Tommy looked older than the
last time Shepherd had seen him, and not the kind of older that
comes purely from the passage of time. It was the kind that came
from nerves and fear whittling you down, the kind that tugged at
the skin under your eyes and etched deep lines into your
forehead.

“So how’s the spy business these days?”
Shepherd asked.

Tommy turned his head very slowly and looked
at him without expression.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Jack,
I am not a spy. I am merely the deputy spokesman for the Ministry
of Foreign Affairs.”

“Got it,” Shepherd nodded. “But seriously,
how’s the spy business?”

Tommy smiled in spite of himself.

“I’m keeping pretty busy,” he said after a
moment. “There’s a lot going on.”

“Other than the red shirts and the yellow
shirts?”

Tommy shrugged. “There’s a lot going on,” he
repeated.

The Mercedes entered the outskirts of Bangkok
and Shepherd stared idly out the window as it worked its way into
the city. No one would ever claim Bangkok was a beautiful city, but
it was twilight and Shepherd thought Bangkok looked a lot better at
twilight than it did in the hard light of midday. Some people said
there was so much crap in Bangkok’s air that it would be easier to
walk on it than to breath it, but there was something undeniably
magical in how, just after sunset, all that pollution colluded with
the last rays of the sun to make the sky glow with a soft,
mango-colored haze. For a few minutes at least, the light turned
dreamy and otherworldly. Like a blanket of fresh snow, it
camouflaged the ugliness. Twilight was as good as Bangkok got.

Shepherd heard the soft crackling sound of
static from the front seat and a radio suddenly spat a blast of
colloquial Thai spoken so rapidly Shepherd didn’t understand a
word.

The driver glanced back at Tommy. “
Rod mae
kwang thanon Petchburi trong soi Asoke,
” he said. “
Rod ja
tit maak krub.
”

“
Pai tang eun dai mai?
” Tommy
asked.

“
Long pai soi Ekamai, Laew Pai Tang
Sukhumvit. Arj ja dee kwa krub.
”

Tommy pulled a Blackberry out of the inside
pocket of his jacket and studied the screen. He punched a speed
dial key and lifted it to his ear. Then he turned slightly away,
murmured a few words, and listened.

“Yes,” he said after a few moments. “Yes, I
think so.”

“What’s going on?” Shepherd asked.

Tommy ignored him and listened some more.
Then he looked at his watch.

“Thirty minutes, maybe a little more,” Tommy
said into the phone.

He returned the Blackberry to his jacket and
leaned toward the driver.

“
Pai apartment ti thanon Sathorn
,” he
said.

“Are you going to cut me in here?” Shepherd
asked.

Tommy leaned back and scratched at his
neck.

“We’ve changed the location for your
meeting,” he said after a moment.

“Trouble in River City?”

“There’s usually trouble in River City.”

Shepherd thought back to the riot on Silom
Road when he had been attacked by a teenage kid apparently keen to
take his head off with an iron bar and eventually beaten to the
ground by an old lady wielding a folding chair. Bangkok had been on
edge for months and he knew some people were even beginning to
whisper the unthinkable. That the whole place might be about to
come down around their ears. Shepherd wasn’t so sure about that.
Thailand had always had a near mystical way of righting itself just
before it went over a cliff. But he knew things were getting worse,
and that things might even get a
lot
worse before they got
better. That is, assuming they ever did get better.

“What’s happening today?” Shepherd asked.

“Your red shirts have stolen some buses and
blocked Petchaburi Road.”

“They’re not
my
red shirts,
Tommy.”

Tommy snorted, but he didn’t say
anything.

“Snort all you want, little man. I have
nothing to do with the red shirts.”

“Save you breath, Jacko. You may have my boss
fooled. But you’re not fooling me.”

Shepherd let that pass. He was tired of
fencing with Tommy. “Why do you care about buses blocking
Petchaburi Road anyway?”

“Traffic will be backed up halfway to the
Cambodian border. We’ll never get across town tonight.”

“Where across town are we going?”

“Nowhere now.”

“So where across town
were
we
going?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Where are we going now?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

“For fuck’s sake, Tommy, you’re so full of
shit. You think I’m going to run around telling everybody where
your shitty little safe houses are, you stupid turd?”

“There we go.” Tommy bobbed his head and
grinned. “There’s the guy we all remember. What was with all the
politeness and restraint anyway, Jacko? You used to be all
attitude, man. I miss that.”

“Ah, fuck you,” Shepherd said, and went back
to staring out the window.

“Right,” Tommy nodded, “Fuck me. I love
Americans. Yeah, I really do.”

THE CAR TURNED into Soi Ekamai, the main thoroughfare
through one of the city’s most popular residential and commercial
districts, and immediately bogged down in traffic. Shepherd knew
the Ekamai area pretty well and was surprised to see it so crowded.
Although there were generally plenty of people around, Soi Ekamai
wasn’t exactly Fifth Avenue. He wondered what was going on.

Almost as if he knew exactly what Shepherd
was thinking, Tommy pointed out the window. “Take a good look,
Jacko. Those are the kind of people you’ve teamed up with.”

Scattered among the street vendors and
sidewalk peddlers who crowded the city’s sidewalks day and night,
Shepherd saw up and down the street loose knots of people dressed
in identical red polo shirts. They could have been students and
alumni headed to a University of Alabama football game. But of
course they weren’t.

“I haven’t teamed up with anybody, Tommy. I’m
just—”

“Yeah, I know. You’re just a lawyer. Save it,
Jacko. I think you’re full of shit.”

“Possibly so, little man. But not about
that.”

The red shirts were mostly male, and young,
and none of them were doing very much but hanging around. Some of
them were eating, but then Thais were always eating. Most of them
were just standing there and quite a few were watching the Mercedes
as it crawled by.

“Why are they looking at us?”

“Big car, government plates, darkened
windows,” Tommy shrugged. “They probably think you’re somebody
important.”

“I am somebody important.”

Shepherd reached for the button to open the
window, but Tommy lunged across the seat and slapped his hand
away.

“What the
fuck
are you doing?” he
snapped.

“I was going to wave.”

“Wave?
Wave
? Have you lost your
goddamned mind, Jack? These are dangerous people.”

“They don’t look very dangerous to me.”

“You just can’t see it, can you, Jack?” Tommy
shook his head. “People like you, you can’t ever see it.”

“People like me? What the hell does that
mean?”