Court thought about all this as he climbed the stairs back to the villa, along with the hundred other things running through his mind: the fact that CIA paramilitaries were just hours away from hitting the property east of him and either finding a dry hole, which would be bad, or picking up Fan Jiang, which would be worse for Sir Donald.
Court unlocked the door to his ocean-view suite, walked through the small entryway, and entered the sitting room there. He was surprised to see Zoya sitting on the sofa across from him, especially so because her hair was wet and she wore only a towel.
He had stepped fully into the living room now, passing a wall behind him on his left, and as he did so he focused on Zoya, saw her back ramrod straight, her eyes focused on him, but apprehensive, nervous.
Court sensed danger, close and immediate. He turned his next footfall into a forward roll by lowering his left shoulder and pushing off with his right leg. As he went down to the ground his right hand slipped under his T-shirt and formed around the grip of his Glock jutting there from the waistband of his cargo shorts.
He rolled over on the carpet and came up in a crouch, his pistol out in front of him and pointing back towards the blind spot in the room he’d just passed.
Four Asian men stood there along the wall; they had pistols of their own pointed back his way.
A voice came from the bedroom on Court’s right. English with a heavy Chinese accent. “Try it. I’d welcome the opportunity to have you shot right here.”
Court turned to look into the bedroom. Three more men stood there. Two held small submachine guns out at hip level, and the third was clearly in charge; this was obvious simply from his body language. He stood there in a suit and tie, his hands clasped behind his back.
Court recognized the man. He was Major Xi, Colonel Dai’s second-in-command.
He said, “Engage those four men, so these two men will shoot you down and then shoot your attractive friend here, as well.”
Court lowered the Glock, placed it on the floor, and pushed it towards the four men in front of him. As he did this he addressed the one man in the suite he knew spoke English. “I don’t guess you guys are just here to work on your tans.”
Xi didn’t laugh. He said, “We will take you to see Dai.”
Court shook his head. “We can’t go to Hong Kong. Fan is here.”
The man smiled. “The colonel is not in Hong Kong. He is here in Phuket. We will take you to him now.”
Court turned back to Zoya, and her expression was clear. What the hell is going on, who the hell is Colonel Dai, and why did you lie to me?
Court found her ability to ask three questions with just a glare impressive, if a little disconcerting.
Court turned back to Major Xi. “I’ll go, but she stays here. She’s not part of this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have brought her here. You aren’t in a position to dictate anything to me, Mr. Gentry. She is coming with us.”
Court cringed at the sound of his own name.
To Zoya Major Xi said, “Get dressed.”
She stood from the sofa, and as she walked past Court in the living room to get her clothes from the closet, Court whispered to her.
“I can explain.”
She did not break stride. “I can hardly wait.”
CHAPTER
FIFTY-ONE
After Zoya Zakharova dressed in dark blue warm-ups and tennis shoes, she and Court were shoved into the back of an SUV and driven up into the hills to the northeast of the resort, with a second SUV full of Chinese operatives trailing behind. Court and Zoya were not hooded or blindfolded, which they appreciated, but men sat on either side of them, and both held pistols jammed into the ribs of their captives. Every bump in the exceedingly bumpy road made Court hold his breath, as the asshole on his right knocked the barrel of his weapon right into Court’s right side where he’d been shot the previous month. Court could see that Zoya was equally stressed about the jackass on her left and his gun banging into her side as the SUV bounced along.
Court had been frisked by the Chinese, but they’d missed the tiny vial of scopolamine hydrobromide in his left cargo pocket. He’d done nothing special to conceal it, but it was only an inch long, and the man searching him had squeezed the pocket and found Court’s phone, and then moved on to check the other pockets.
It wasn’t that Court particularly needed a central nervous system depressant at the moment, but he would keep its presence on his body at the back of his mind.
After less than a ten-minute drive, the two SUVs pulled off the paved rural road and took a gravel drive through a gate opened by two Chinese men in their twenties. This winding drive led to the south, up a steep incline, and ended at a ranch-style home with sweeping views of the ocean. The door next to Court was opened by another young Chinese man in plainclothes, and he and Zoya were directed to go straight into the front door of the home.
Near the entrance to the ranch house, yet another pair of Chinese men dressed in casual wear stood, trying, Court decided, not to look like security officers. He could see the pistols under the men’s white shirts and linen pants, and the earpieces in their ears, so they failed in this endeavor, but Court imagined these were Dai’s men, from the People’s Liberation Army, and playing the role of civilian wasn’t really in their bag of tricks.
On a second-floor balcony over the entrance he saw another pair of men. They sat at a table drinking bottled water, but Court had no doubt the men had firearms and orders to keep watch all around.
Inside the walls of the home, Court and Zoya encountered somewhere between twelve and fifteen more men, bringing the total number of operatives around here to over thirty. These wouldn’t all be bodyguards for Colonel Dai. No… Court was pretty sure he was looking at some sort of paramilitary strike force.
Court and Zoya entered the kitchen of the home, where Colonel Dai Longhai sat alone at a wooden table with a laptop open in front of him and a mobile phone in his hand. His eyes furrowed when he saw Zoya, but he put down the phone and motioned for the two of them to take a seat in front of him.
This was awkward for Court, to say the least. He wanted to speak to Dai outside the earshot of Zoya, but he saw no way to keep her out of it now. He could only hope she had the good sense to play dumb, like she was just a tourist Court had picked up along the way. While in truth she didn’t know what was happening right now, surely she was sharp enough to know that admitting to the Chinese that she was a Russian spy who’d been running the task force in charge of kidnapping Fan would not go over well in this company.
Court went on the offensive immediately with the colonel. “What the hell are you and all your goons doing here?”
Dai said, “Obviously we are here for the same reason you are here. Fan Jiang is inside the walls of the property in the jungle just a few hundred meters away.” Dai looked at the attractive brunette with the wet hair, then back to Court. “That is why you are here, is it not? Or did you decide to go on vacation right in the middle of our partnership?”
Court said, “Of course that’s why I’m here. But that’s a big piece of property and I haven’t pinpointed Fan Jiang inside it yet. You guys showing up like this will just alert Chamroon’s people and cause Fan to escape yet again.”
Dai said, “The moment for pinpoint actions has passed, Mr. Gentry. And believe me, we’ve been very careful in the way we arrived. No one in the Chamroon property knows we are here.” Now he looked at Zoya, but he kept his comments directed to Gentry, as if she were unable to speak for herself. “And who is your friend here?”