Surrender at Dawn (2 page)

“You ready?”

She glanced at him and nodded.

He shifted the controls, and an invisible force flattened her against the seat, and then they were speeding across the water’s surface. Her stomach dropped as they suddenly lifted into the air and the only thing she could see was sun-drenched sky.

After a few long moments, they leveled off. Charlotte gazed down at the azure water, the white shoreline, the emerald-green coconut groves. The blue became darker as they gained altitude and moved out over the ocean.

Charlotte’s heart pounded. She stole a glimpse at the man beside her and marveled at his perfectly relaxed features. This was routine for him, just a regular morning. She wondered what he must think of ordinary people who spent their days in office buildings and SUVs and subway cars, caught up in the endless rat race of American life.

He handed her a headset. She put it on and the snug cushions over her ears blocked out the engine noise.

“Tell me about your brother.” His voice came through to her, and it no longer sounded as hostile as before. He was on board now. They were in this together, and he probably wanted as much information as he could get so he could perform his mission.

And yet he hadn’t said a word about payment. She cast a tentative glance at him. Would he accept money from her, or would he want something else?

“Davey’s a year younger than I am,” she told him. “He and Mark were best friends growing up.” She looked out the window at the shimmering ocean below. They passed over a tiny island covered in palms, and she pictured Mark and Davey as kids playing G.I. Joe in the woods behind her house. It seemed ironic now that Mark had gone on to become the real deal, while Davey had become a roving reporter.

“Last I heard,” she said, “he was in Kandahar, Afghanistan, covering the war for an online news site. Ten days ago he posted a comment on Facebook, saying he was onto something ‘big’ and that he was hopping a flight to Phuket. One of his friends told me he sent him an e-mail mentioning Ko Aroon. That was the last anyone’s heard from him.” Charlotte’s chest tightened as soon as the words were out.

“Ten days isn’t a lot of time.”

She glanced at him. “It is for Davey. Our mother was diagnosed with lung cancer a year ago. He calls home every few days to talk to her, see how her treatment’s going. But in ten days we haven’t had a word, and I’ve left him dozens of urgent messages.”

Jack glanced at her, his face unreadable. “Any ransom demands to your family? Maybe to his employer?”

“No, nothing like that. But he works free-lance, so it’s not like he’s got a boss breathing down his neck.”

“And I’m guessing Mark’s deployed, right?”

“I assume,” she said. “The only thing I have for him is an e-mail address. When I contacted him, I got back a brief response with your name and the name of your company. Davey’s his oldest friend in the world, so that tells me he was pretty tied up.” It also told her Mark was worried--worried enough to send her to one of his SEAL friends for help.

Charlotte glanced at Jack and wondered what he thought of being second-in-line for this job. She would have preferred Mark, obviously. She wasn’t comfortable asking a total stranger to do something dangerous for her, but she didn’t exactly have a long roster of military-trained badasses to call on.

Jack glanced at her. “Ever since the coup, Ko Aroon’s been overrun by criminals. Drug runners. Gun runners. You name it. Going in there as a reporter would be suicide.”

“I know.” Charlotte could hardly talk around the lump in her throat. Hearing him say it made it all too real.

“And just what were you planning to do? Wade ashore and ask if anyone’s seen him around?”

She heard the scorn in his voice and knew it sounded crazy. It
was
crazy. But Davey was her kid brother. She’d been bailing him out of trouble all her life and she wouldn’t run away now.

“I brought money. I thought I’d hire someone to go in there and try to buy him out.”

Jack didn’t respond, and she wondered what he thought of this plan. She wondered what
his
plan was, because he obviously had one.

“Where are we going?” she asked again.

“Reconnaissance.”

The right wing dipped, and Charlotte gazed down at a cluster of green islands. Not Ko Aroon. From the map she’d studied, she knew it was an isolated chunk of land about twenty miles from anything else.

The wings leveled again, and Charlotte took a deep breath.

She was in good hands. Not Mark’s hands, but good hands. Jack Brenner was highly trained and Mark trusted him.

So why did she feel like she was about to throw up?

“It’s coming up on your right.”

“What’s that?”

“Aroon Island. Up ahead, about three o’clock. Keep your eyes peeled because if I fly over more than once, it’ll attract attention.”

“What are we looking for?” she asked, as a green dot came into view.

“Boats, docks, buildings. Anything that gives you an idea of who or how many we’re dealing with.”

A chill slithered down Charlotte’s spine as they neared the island. It looked like a patch of jungle, hardly larger than a few football fields. Was her brother down there, amid all that tangled vegetation? Was he alive?

“I’ve got three motorboats, two long-tails, and a kayak,” Jack said. “What about you?”

She swallowed down her fear. It wouldn’t help Davey. “I see two sort of primitive buildings set back from the beach.”

“Quonset huts,” he said. “There’s one on that south hill, too. Okay, we’re going to go directly over. Look carefully.”

She peered out the window. “I see a tower of some kind on the hill to the north.”

“Cell tower.”

“And there’s a rectangular clearing. It looks man-made.”

“Any clearing around here is going to be man-made.”

“Is it an airstrip?”

“Not long enough,” he said. “Looks like a firing range. And it wasn’t here last time I did a flyover. Neither were the Quonset huts. Looks like Chanarong’s been making some capital improvements.”

“Chanarong?” she glanced over at him.

“The big bad mofo who runs the place. He deals in heroin, arms, and pretty much anything of value he can get his hands on.”

“He’s famous around here?”

“Infamous would be more like it.”

“Infamous enough that someone like Davey might want to interview him?”

“Who knows? I don’t know what your brother was working on. Do you?”

“No. But he prides himself on always getting the impossible story, the most unattainable interview.” Charlotte’s stomach filled with dread. Had Davey really risked life and limb just to interview some Thai drug lord?

They passed over the island and the water turned turquoise, with an abrupt shift to indigo.

“That’s the reef,” Jack said. “Used to be a popular dive spot before Chanarong moved in. Not much going on on this side of the island. It’d be a good insertion point, if it weren’t for the current.”

She looked at Jack as the wings tilted again and they veered east. Charlotte pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart was hammering. She was sweating, too. Just being this close to the island had way too many terrifying thoughts racing through her brain.

Jack glanced at her. “You okay?”

“Fine. Why?”

“You look pale.”

“I’m not used to flying, that’s all.”

“Paralegals don’t travel much, I take it?”

She looked at him. That must have been some background check. She wondered what else he knew about her. She turned to gaze out the window. “Not in my office, they don’t. We’re one of Dallas’s ‘boutique’ law firms, which sounds cool, but what it really means is there’s a limited budget.”

“And do you like the job?”

She took a deep breath. He was trying to distract her, and she was happy to let him.

“The work is interesting,” she said. “I like the people, for the most part. And they pay is decent, the benefits are good.” She shook her head ruefully. Her job at Bakers and Bindle and the problems she’d thought she had just a few days ago seemed light years away now.

“Sounds like a nice gig.”

She shot him a look. Was he being facetious?

He smiled at her. “Add a two-story house and a black Lab, and you’ll be living the American dream.”

She nearly choked on her laughter. “I have a Lab. She’s at my neighbor’s right now.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s her name?”

She took a deep breath. “Daisy,” she said, and closed her eyes. She could breathe again. Jack’s voice in her ears had calmed her, and she wasn’t going to have a panic attack.

They flew in silence for a while, and the vibration of the plane soothed her. She stole a glance at him. Underneath all those muscles, there was some sensitivity.

“Ko Phi Phi, coming up on your right,” he said.

She looked out the window. “What’s that?”

“Popular tourist spot. It’s two islands, actually. Phi Phi Don and Phi Phi Leh.”

They dipped suddenly, and her stomach dropped.

“What are we doing?”

“Landing. I’ve got to off-load this stuff, then make a plan for tonight.”

“We’re going at night?”

“I’m going.” He looked at her. “You’re staying at the resort.”

“I most certainly am not! It’s my brother we’re going after. With
my
money.”

“That’s non-negotiable.”

“But this is dangerous. I hardly know you. I can’t possibly allow you to--”

“Trust me, I’m much better off with you back at the resort.”

She gaped at him. “My brother’s life is at stake. What the hell am I going to do at a resort?”

“Have a Mai Tai. Get your toenails done.” He cut a glance at her. “You can do whatever you want, just as long as you stay out of the way.”

Phi Phi Island

2300 hours

Jack slung his waterproof rucksack over his shoulder and left his bungalow. He didn’t bother locking it. Although it served as his temporary home whenever he touched down on Phi Phi Island, there was nothing inside worth stealing, and the resort manager kept an eye on the place for him to keep out squatters. Jack walked down the beach, passing a few bars, all fairly empty because it was the low season. He glanced up at the sky. Mostly cloudy with a slight breeze out of the south. Perfect weather for a swim.

Provided he could lose the tail he’d picked up.

Jack trudged across the sand, using the glow spilling from the beachfront hotel rooms for guidance. He passed a line of sleeping jet skis and a dive shop. He spotted his dinghy on the sand between a pair of long-tail boats, right where he’d asked Sajja to leave it. What he didn’t spot was Sajja. Jack tossed his gear into the rubber raft and glanced around, but he didn’t see the man anywhere.

“You’re taking a boat?”

This from the blonde who’d been on his six for ten minutes.

“You got something against boats?” he asked her.

“But… it’s like thirty miles away. I thought the quickest way to get there was by seaplane.”

“Quick, yes. Quiet, no.”

She stopped beside the dinghy, which would serve as his aquatic headquarters tonight. She wore the outfit she’d had on before, right down to the backpack that contained something near and dear to her heart--most likely her life savings. She scraped a curl back from her face and looked up at him.

“I want to come with you.”

He’d expected this. “Not happening.”

“I only just met you. It’s not fair for you to risk your life all by yourself for someone you don’t even know.”

He stepped closer and gazed down into those big brown eyes that had been even bigger this morning when he’d snuck into her hotel room.

“Who ever told you life was fair?” he asked. “And anyway, you’re paying me. Believe me, the risk is built into my fee.”

She looked uncomfortable at this, which was just what he’d intended. Maybe she’d think twice about being alone with him. She should. She should stay far away. If she had any sense, she’d lock herself in that bungalow she’d rented and not come out until he returned with her brother.

If her brother was even alive, which was a huge
if
. A reporter dumb enough to go to Chanarong’s private island to chase down a story probably didn’t have much in the way of survival instincts. Charlotte seemed to know this, which accounted for the desperation he’d seen on her face for the last twenty-four hours. It also probably accounted for her willingness to sleep with a man who clearly scared the hell out of her.

Jack checked his watch and muttered a curse. Where was Sajja? They had approximately three hours to get this job done before the cloud cover was scheduled to dissipate. Tonight was a full moon, and Jack much preferred to work under cover of darkness. He glanced up and down the beach.

“Who’s meeting you here?” she asked.

“No one.” He stepped into the boat and checked the plastic gas jug sitting beside the motor. It was full, as was the backup jug. His friend had done everything Jack had asked him to, except stick around to drive the boat.

“They stood you up, didn’t they?”

He glanced at Charlotte now and caught the excitement in her tone. Beneath those powder-puff looks was an opportunist.

Jack rummaged through his rucksack and checked his phone. No messages.

“Let me go instead,” she said eagerly. “I can do whatever you need help with.”

“Oh, yeah? What if I need you to slit someone’s throat? You any good with a knife?”

She stepped back. “You really think you’ll have to--”

“I don’t know what I’ll have to do. But whatever it is, I’d sure as hell rather do it before the moon comes out.” Jack searched up and down the beach again, but still no Sajja.
Shit.
He didn’t mind working alone. And he didn’t mind being outnumbered, because he relied on stealth, not firepower, to get himself in and out of tight situations. But he was going to have his hands full retrieving the hostage tonight. And given the sheer number of unknowns, this op would be much,
much
easier if he could get the lay of the land before committing to an extraction point.

He checked his watch again. Almost 2330. Jack rested his hands on his hips and looked at Charlotte. “You ever driven a dinghy?”