“That’s — ?” Bulatt’s mouth dropped open as he stared disbelieving at his Thai friend, “I mean, Officer Achara is your daughter? How can that be? That picture of your family you showed me in Lyon — ”
“Had been taken several years earlier, and the Lyon meeting was three years ago,” Kulawnit reminded. “Children will grow up. What can a father do?”
“I’d start by sending a daughter who looked and acted like that to the Thai equivalent of a nunnery,” Bulatt said seriously.
“You can tell her that tonight, when we meet for dinner.”
Bulatt blinked in sudden realization. “She knew I was coming to Thailand?”
“Oh yes, she most certainly did; and was quite put out when I informed her that you and I had business to attend to, and that she would have to wait a few hours for her introduction. I’m afraid I’ve probably exaggerated some of your adventures over the past years, and she’s been quite anxious to meet the infamous Khun Ged in person; which undoubtedly explains why she arranged to temporarily reassume one of her earlier jobs with our Department. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; she’s always been a devious and persistent child.”
“But also innovative,” Bulatt pointed out.
“Yes, that too,” Kulawnit agreed. “It will make for an interesting topic of discussion over dinner, I think; assuming that we are still in Bangkok,” he added, his facial expression turning grim.
“Yes, you must have asked me here for a serious purpose, Khun Prathun. I didn’t mean to — ”
“No,” Kulawnit shook his head. “It is good we can share a few moments of good humor together. I am afraid the rest of our morning will not be so pleasant.”
CHAPTER 7
Inside the Bangkok International Airport
Wallis had gone on alert status the moment he’d exited the Thai Airlines 737, walked down the ramp, and stepped into the busy Bangkok Airport terminal — the most vulnerable point of his escape from Thailand.
Unarmed by necessity, and surrounded by security personnel both inside and outside the airport terminal, Wallis knew he’d have little chance of evading capture if an alarm were raised. But, as far as he could tell, no one was taking an undue interest in his arrival as he strode through the domestic arrival lounge and entered the main passenger hall.
Wallis smiled.
He’d been tempted to take a more covert escape route out of Thailand — by small boat and private aircraft, much like he’d arranged for Lanyard and Gavin — where his survival skills, combat expertise, and access to weapons would have given him a significant advantage in any confrontation with the Thai authorities.
But he also knew that using his real passport to travel openly from Surat Thani to Bangkok would provide a useful diversion for Lanyard and Gavin; and might make a crucial difference in timing once the Thai Forestry patrol teams began a hard search for the killers of their four Rangers.
It wasn’t likely that anyone had found the bodies yet; but the fact that they’d been reported missing was bound to make the Royal Thai Police and Ranger forces more alert and aggressive — which meant hundreds of new check-points and pervasive luggage and vehicle searches. But Wallis wasn’t about to put his men and Hateley’s expensively-produced Clouded Leopard trophy at additional risk of being seized just to make his own escape a little easier.
And besides, he had another very important reason for making a temporary stop in Bangkok.
He was walking toward the doors leading out to the taxi stand with his carry-on bag, looking exactly like almost all of the other Caucasians in the terminal neatly dressed in varying renditions of tropical khaki, when he spotted the familiar face of Colonel Prathun Kulawnit entering the main passenger hall from the international customs lounge with a younger Caucasian man with a scraggly white beard, white hair tied back in a short, neat ponytail and vaguely Slavic features, who looked and acted — to Wallis’ practiced eye — very much like a covert American law enforcement officer.
Bloody hell?
Reacting instinctively, Wallis casually diverted from his exit route, walked over to a telephone kiosk, set his carry-on bag down, picked up the handset, and then stared casually across the passenger hall at the two familiar faces now heading in his direction.
As he did so, he also glanced around the passenger hall, searching for any signs of an active or passive surveillance. But all he saw were the seemingly random movements of uniformed air crews, airport staff and arriving passengers. No coordinated movements, no furtive glances, no brief or hurried conversations on pack-set radios or cell phones.
And, most important of all, no signs of focused attention on his position.
The Thai’s can’t have a surveillance on; nobody has a spotting or tracking team this good, Wallis reassured himself as he refocused his attention on Kulawnit.
Wallis knew Colonel Kulawnit’s reputation all too well. He’d done extensive research on the commander of the Thai Wildlife Ranger Force — an operational unit of the Thai Forestry Police Division tasked with protecting the country’s wildlife — when he and Lanyard and Gavin first considered the idea of running illegal safari hunts in the isolated rainforests of Thailand. What he’d discovered was a highly professional and aggressive military man completely devoted to his Rangers and his children; and a man of some family wealth who was apparently indifferent to the luxuries of life that additional money might buy.
“Don’t ever try to bribe Kulawnit,” one of his sources had warned. “That would be a terrible mistake. The Colonel has no tolerance for such insults.”
Well versed in the cultural art of progressive bribery, Wallis wasn’t accustomed to dealing with adversaries who handicapped themselves with scruples. And, at first, Kulawnit’s stubborn sense of honor made things awkward for Wallis and his surveilling teammates.
But, as it turned out, they’d found no such human failings in a Ranger Captain assigned to the Phuket Field Office by the name of Choonhavan, AKA Choon.
So who is your friend, Colonel Kulawnit? Wallis asked himself, staring at the athletic-looking man who was walking beside the Forestry Ranger commander and pulling a heavy-duty, roll-along suitcase that appeared to have weathered many such international flights. And, more to the point, why are you still in Bangkok? You’re supposed to be in Tokyo, attending your bloody Interpol meeting.
Wallis could only think of one thing that might have drawn Kulawnit away from a Pacific Rim regional meeting of the Interpol Working Group on Wildlife — of which the Colonel was a charter member — and back to Bangkok; and he didn’t like the idea at all.
Muttering to himself, Wallis waited until the two men walked outside, then hung up the phone and followed them out the door.
He was hoping they’d take a cab to wherever they were going, which would give him a chance to follow in another cab; but the sight of the uniformed police officer waiting beside the black Range Rover, and the half-dozen people waiting in the Taxi queue, dashed Wallis’ hopes.
Instead, he got in line for a taxi and watched as Kulawnit and Bulatt loaded their gear into the official vehicle, hopped in, and then disappeared down the airport expressway leading to the city center.
Outside the Bangkok International Airport
Wallis stood outside Bangkok International Airport’s main departure terminal in the misting rain, carefully watching the security guards going through their well-practiced routines of monitoring the flow of cars, buses, taxi’s and people from the shelter of his umbrella.
Nothing he observed looked out of the ordinary; but the alarm bells continued to chime softly in the back of his head, and he didn’t like that at all.