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Authors: Trevor Scott

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BOOK: Rising Tiger
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The Agency man glanced around cautiously and then approached Jake with his hand extended. “Liam,” the man said. “Nice to meet you.” Then the guy looked at Alexandra and reached his hand to her. She ignored the man, her eyes searching for any danger.

Jake had gotten a photo of this man from Kurt about an hour ago. Kurt’s assessment of the man as ‘a tall ginger,’ was an apt description. “What do you have for us?” Jake asked.

“A ride,” Liam said. “Car is out front.”

The three of them walked together toward the front of the building. Jake checked his six in the reflection of the windows, but the two men had disappeared. He couldn’t help drawing comparisons on the half-dome structure to the Frankfurt, Germany main train station.

Before they piled into the new black KIA, Jake in the front seat and Alexandra in the back, both of them pulled their Glocks from their bags and prepared for easy access.

As they drove slowly through the downtown of Bangkok, Jake thought about the last time he had been in the city. Even though his last trip had been brief, not much seemed to have changed since then. The air was still dirty, leaving a dark residue on nearly every building. Other than the people and the food, there wasn’t much that Jake found appealing about the place. If Remington wanted to stay here in exile, Jake might have been inclined to let the guy do so.

“What can you tell me about your search for Bill Remington?” Jake asked the driver.

The young man bit his lower lip, his eyes concentrating on the heavy traffic. “Not much, sir. We’re a bit undermanned here. The whole staff underwent a lie detector. Anyone with any deception or possible favorable opinion toward Remington was sent back to Langley.”

Interesting, Jake thought. Kurt Jenkins hadn’t mentioned that. Maybe he didn’t know. “How many did you lose?”

Liam shook his head. “About half of our staff.”

“That’s understandable,” Jake reasoned. “Remington worked here and knows the city quite well. His first wife was from here, and her family was well connected.”

When they approached a large park, Liam slowed the car and nodded his head. The park was packed with protestors, who had set up makeshift tents and turned the place into their own radical city within a city. To Jake it looked like a damn landfill, with garbage piled up everywhere.

“This is getting much worse,” the driver said. “We’ve pretty much been taken off the search for Remington and are working our agents for insight as to what’s going down next with these radicals.”

“What do they want now?” Alexandra asked from the back seat.

“That’s hard to say, ma’am,” Liam said, his eyes checking out his passenger in the rearview mirror. “We think they eventually want a new government. One day they ask for a new prime minister, and the next they ask for the military to take control. Then they ask for a complete purge of the parliament. Not sure what they want today.”

“How far to the tailor?” Jake asked.

“A couple miles. But that could take us a while if the protestors close down some streets. What’s at the tailor?”

Jake glanced at the side mirror to make sure they were not being followed. But that was a problem, considering all this traffic. “I need a new leather jacket,” Jake said. Which was the truth. “My last one got sliced up in Taiwan.”

“Well, you’ve chosen wisely,” Liam said. “I’ve used this guy a couple times myself. I think he’s the best in Thailand. I also understand Remington has used the guy.” He hesitated for a beat and then nodded his head. “Oh, I see. That’s why you’re going there.”

“You’re a quick study. Let me guess. Harvard?”

“How’d you know.”

“First, your accent,” Jake said. “I’m guessing you were a local boy, but not a South Boston guy. With a name like Liam, I would guess you’re Irish Catholic from Winchester. Not old money, though. Probably more like Kennedy money.”

The Agency driver turned to Jake, a look of concern on his freckled face. “You read a briefing on me.”

Alexandra laughed from the back.

“Afraid not, Liam. I’m guessing you got into Harvard on scholarship in. . .lacrosse.”

“Fencing,” Liam admitted.

“Okay, I can see that. Epee, right. Long arms help there.”

Liam let out a breath of air and looked back into the rearview mirror. “Is he always like this?” he asked Alexandra.

She leaned forward. “No. He’s usually obnoxious. He happened to get good sleep last night. So, was epee correct?”

Liam reluctantly said, “Yes. But he only had three choices.”

The driver turned down a side street and pulled the car around a corner, ending up in a dead end. To the left was a two-story building with an inconspicuous sign saying a tailor worked there. The sign simply read, ‘Best Tailor House.’ Sitting outside the building was a line of tuk tuks, small carts attached to motorcycles. The little transports were ubiquitous in Bangkok.

Liam shut down the engine and turned to Jake. “I’ll wait out here for you.”

“Why?”

“Because if I go in there, I’ll come out much poorer. And my wife will be pissed that I bought another suit.”

“All right.” Jake got out and met Alexandra. As the two of them walked toward the front of the building, Jake whispered to her, “Let me ask the questions. Just stand back and look like you’re ready to kill all of them.”

“I can do that,” she said.

They walked in through an unimpressive first floor corridor and were escorted upstairs to an area that looked like a high-end bordello waiting room. From there they were showed into a back room with leather benches, a nice glass coffee table, and walls surrounded in samples of fabric and leather. One end had three mirrors with a platform, so customers could step up and see themselves from three sides.

The escort, who seemed to be English challenged, waved his hands for them to sit, but Jake simply stood. It was hard to pull a gun from the small of his back when he was damn near sitting on the Glock.

Alexandra backed up and stood in a corner, her best badass look on her face, and her hand inside her small purse coddling her gun.

Jake expected to see an old man who had been in the business since the Vietnam War come out to greet him, but instead the owner was a man in his mid-thirties, who was Asian, but might have had some other ethnic blend as well. On a good day the top of the man’s head would have hit Jake’s chin.

“How may I help you?” the owner asked. His English was perfect, and he went by the name Neville.

A man appeared from the back with a black leather jacket and he placed it in front of Jake. He felt the texture and had to admit it felt great. After that encounter in Taiwan he did need a new coat. But first he needed answers.

“I’m looking for a friend of yours,” Jake said, cutting right to the bone.

The owner looked disappointed.

“All right. I’ll buy a leather jacket. But first you tell me how to find Bill Remington.”

“Who?”

Jake took a step toward Neville and said, “He’s been a customer of yours for years.”

The owner smiled and reached inside his jacket.

Alexandra pulled her gun and aimed it right at the man’s head.

Neville looked like he might soil his custom-made wool pinstriped pants. “It’s only a note,” the owner explained. He handed Jake a piece of paper.

Alexandra lowered her gun, but she kept it at the side of her right leg.

Jake opened it and saw a hand-scribbled note that said ‘Wat Arun 1800.’ It could have been Remington’s own handwriting, but for some reason the script looked more feminine. He thought back on what had happened on the train, how the two men could have come for him, but had unexpectedly backed off and simply kept an eye on him. Either this was an elaborate trap, or Remington wanted to talk for some reason. If Jake had to guess, the former Agency man was going to make him an offer of some kind. Remington knew that Jake was like a pitbull—once he locked his teeth onto someone, he wouldn’t let go until the man was either dead or heading to jail.

“Remington gave this to you,” Jake said.

“An associate of his,” Neville explained.

“Let me guess. A hot but deadly woman.”

“You’ve met.” The tailor smiled.

Jake shook his head. He had been to Wat Arun years ago. It was the most visited religious site in Bangkok. And by six p.m. the sun would have set at this time of year. Remington knew he would be safe there, since Jake would not likely start a gun battle at a religious location. But Remington only knew about some of Jake’s past missions. The man didn’t know that Jake would accomplish his task at almost any cost. If he had to step on a few religious mores, Jake might just do so.

When Jake was about to leave, the tailor stopped him. “What about that leather jacket?”

Jake looked at Alexandra and then shrugged. “Why not.”

The man measured Jake and showed him various styles in a book, along with the highest quality leather and the best silk linings. Jake picked his normal black with a red paisley silk lining. Then he had the man measure Alexandra as well. She went with a more natural brown with the same silk lining.

“How long will it take?” Jake asked.

Without hesitation, Neville said, “I can have both by tonight.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You can pick them up here or I can have my man drop them off at your hotel.”

Jake scribbled an address on a piece of paper. “Send them here,” Jake said. Then he pulled out his wallet and paid the man in cash for both jackets. They would eventually show up at a postal address in Innsbruck, Austria that Jake kept under another name.

Alexandra led the way out, but Jake stopped before heading downstairs and turned to the tailor. “Oh, by the way, we know about your frequent money deliveries from Singapore. You’ll no longer be able to provide that service for Remington.”

The Tailor half-smiled and seemed to deflate somewhat after just selling two leather jackets.

Jake and Alexandra went out to the waiting car.

The Agency officer said, “Did you order leather jackets?”

“Yes, we did,” Jake said.

“Nice stuff, right? Where to next?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake wondered why this young officer didn’t ask about Remington. Maybe he didn’t really want to know anything.

Checking his watch, Jake said, “I could use some lunch. And I’m guessing you know a good place.” Turning to Alexandra, he asked, “Do you like Thai?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve only had German Thai, and that burned both ways.”

“Sounds about right,” the driver said. “I know a great place pretty close, but the protesters are probably blocking it right now. So we’ll have to go to my number two favorite place down by the river.”

Jake gave him a thumbs up and they were off.


Leaning back in the shadows of a covered tuk tuk, Shangwei cast his eyes upon the American, Jake Adams, along with the other man and the woman. She was a hot one, no doubt. He hoped the general would let him take care of that one personally.

As the red headed man started to pull out down the narrow road leading to the tailor, Shangwei tapped the tuk tuk driver on the shoulder and told him to keep up with the KIA. The driver simply started his motorcycle and pulled away.

Remington’s people had been correct. Adams had made a direct approach on the tailor after getting off the train. But now the tracking device they had given to Adams in Singapore was no longer working. It must have either been the small battery, or Adams had discovered the device and destroyed it. Now they would have to work the old way, with perfectly established surveillance techniques.

Shangwei pulled out his cell phone and texted his men that they were on the move.


The Asian woman had been correct with her assessment that Jake Adams would show up at the tailor. Bill Remington had been skeptical, but she was beginning to understand this former Agency officer, despite the cryptic information she had gotten from Remington on the man. It was still not clear who was paying Adams. She had to assume the worst. So she had delivered the note and then sat back and waited, her two men in another car a few blocks away.

She ordered her new driver to follow the KIA, but to stay back quite a ways. Especially after she caught a glimpse of that Chinese agent who worked for the general pull out in the back of the tuk tuk. She had been briefed on the man with the tattoos, and knew he was dangerous. To be working somewhat in concert with the man went against her better judgment, but in this case she had no choice. Still, she would make sure to hang back and not let the other agent know of their presence.

Now she called her people and told them to follow the KIA and the tuk tuk following the KIA. They would eventually switch positions a number of times to remain undetected. Then she put her phone into her pocket and gazed at her silenced handgun in her lap. She knew she must do everything in her power to remain in control and not get caught up in Remington’s life. It would be easy to get lost, she knew. Discipline would overcome temptation.


 Jake tried his best to only look back at their tail a few times, knowing it would be better to not let them know that he knew. In fact, he didn’t even tell the Agency driver they were being followed. He wanted to see if the young Agency officer would catch the tail.

The driver eventually checked his rearview mirror with some concern. “Jake, I think we picked up a tail,” Liam said.

“Keep your eyes forward,” Jake said. “We want them there for now.”

Liam glanced at Jake. “You already caught them?”

Jake smiled. “Tuk tuk two cars back with an Asian man in the back.” He didn’t want to mention it was the same man he had observed since Taiwan. The man with the neck tattoos. “Anyone else?”

“Are you testing the young man?” Alexandra said from the back seat.

“Just a little game,” Jake admitted.

The driver glanced at his side mirror and said, “The dark Toyota that pulled out two blocks back.”

“Good. Anything else? Don’t look. Use your memory.”

Liam shook his head.

Jake let out a breath of air. “Asian woman in the passenger side of the black Toyota two cars back from the tuk tuk has followed us since the tailor’s street.”

BOOK: Rising Tiger
7.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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