Bob and Sky returned to the table, and soon the bottle of Cristal came to an end. When he declined to order another, so did Bob’s whirlwind relationship with Sky. She wandered off; to Court’s pleasure her next mark was the guy in the corner with the vodka bottle and the shifty eyes, though this man sent her on her way gruffly and continued eyeing the nightclub.
The Dutch DJ took a smoke break a minute later, and though the prerecorded music was still loud, the crowd wasn’t as engaged, so Court took advantage of the relative calm to place a phone call.
Court called Brewer, established his identity, and quickly told her he wanted the SAD men in the area to create a distraction.
Brewer replied to Court’s request instantly. “Negative. I’m not sending Ground Branch in until you have positive ID on Fan.”
Court sighed. “Look, there is too much security here for me to do this myself.”
“Do you have PID on Fan?”
“Negative, but I have an opportunity to get one of the brothers. I just need some help.”
Brewer said, “If you want someone to help you get a prisoner out of that nightclub, you know who you can call.”
Court understood what she meant, but he didn’t like it. “There are five hundred civilians in this building. If Dai’s men get involved, this could turn into a bloodbath.”
“You’ll just have to take care of everything inside the building, make it clear to him what you need. His men stay outside. Their job is to help you out of the area.”
Court didn’t hide his frustration. “Great idea, Brewer, but I don’t have a gun. Remember?”
“You’ll come up with something,” Brewer said coldly. “I’m under orders myself, Violator. Ground Branch is a single-shot weapon. They swoop in for the snatch; they aren’t a force that I can order around to flex muscle every time you want to question someone.”
“But—”
Brewer said, “If you get PID on Fan, call me back. Otherwise, the Chinese can help you tonight.”
Court hung up. As far as he was concerned, Brewer might have had her orders, but using Chinese intelligence operatives was just going to increase the chances something bad would happen tonight.
Still… it wasn’t his call to make. He looked down at his phone and keyed another number. He put a finger into one of his ears and his phone tight against the other. He could barely hear the ringing of the phone, but Dai’s voice came through loud and clear. “What is all that noise?”
Court said, “I am in a nightclub called the Black Pearl. It’s a bar owned by the Chamroon Syndicate. I am going to make a move on a member of their leadership who is here, and I need your men to help.”
Dai said, “I am glad to hear you are doing something proactive, finally, but why do you think Chamroon is the one holding Fan Jiang?”
“It is the biggest group around and it has the most reach. Chamroon Syndicate operatives smuggle through Cambodia and were likely the ones who picked Fan up there. And I’ve been asking around, and they are the only group around who can really employ a man with our target’s skills. They have a large cybercrime operation run out of the city.”
“That is all you are going on?”
Court faked a defensive tone. “Look… I don’t know for sure, but I need to force a move. Nattapong Chamroon himself is here. If I can get him out of here and someplace where I can work on him, I’ll find out where Fan is, or I’ll find out who else might be holding him.”
Dai said nothing. He clearly was not convinced.
Court played his trump card. “Did I mention that the Russians are here? They have eyes on Chamroon as we speak.”
Now Dai spoke. “I have four men just minutes from you. I can have a dozen men there in less than a half hour.”
“Thought that might get your attention. Tell them they are just here to back me up. I’ll wait for an opportunity for Nattapong to—”
Court had been watching the VIP area below while he spoke. Now, right in front of him, Nattapong Chamroon and his group downed their full glasses of whiskey and began shuffling the girls with them towards a door at the rear of the VIP area. Three bodyguards moved along with them.
When the door opened, Court realized it led to a stairwell. Chamroon and his entourage were already on the ground floor, and he saw the bodyguards leading them up the stairs, with the girls following behind. More men stood waiting on the stairs, and Court took them as security for Chamroon’s entourage, as well. He hadn’t seen these men in the nightclub and wondered what they had been doing up until now.
The VIP door closed before Court could get a head count or be sure everyone was going up, but he felt it was a safe bet. Brewer had told him that above the Black Pearl, a private club and spa entertained the rich of the city during the day, and it served as an occasional playground of the Chamroon Syndicate’s leadership in the off-hours.
“Are you still there?” Dai asked.
Now Court waved at his waitress to bring the check. Into his phone he said, “I might have an opportunity to get closer to Chamroon. Keep your guys outside and ready to help me make it out of here with a captive. And hurry them up. I don’t control the timetable with this… The bad guys do.”
“I will do as you say.”
“Remember, Dai. They stay outside. I will notify you if I need them.”
“Of course.”
Court hung up the phone, pulled out a wad of baht over a thousand U.S. in value, and began fanning bills. He was operating by the seat of his pants, but for the first time in the past four days, he had a hard-and-fast objective. Nattapong Chamroon was in his sights, and Court Gentry was supremely single-minded when he closed in on a target.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
Twenty feet to the right of where Court descended the circular staircase down to the dance floor, SVR operations officer Oleg Utkin took a slow sip of his iced vodka, then spoke into his hidden cuff mic.
“Anna One, this is Fantom. Subject has entered a rear door with three bodyguards and six prostitutes. I can’t see if it’s a stairwell, but the layout of the building suggests it is.”
The reply came from Vasily seconds later. “Anna One copies. We will advise when we are in the building.”
“Ponial,” the SVR operative said, and he returned to his duty of keeping watch over the nightclub.
Oleg Utkin had been on another operation in Manila two days earlier when he’d received an emergency message from his control officer at the Lubyanka building in Moscow, letting him know he would be taking over an SVR task force whose previous commander had been recalled because of poor performance. He was ordered to fly directly to Bangkok and, as soon as he landed, he was picked up by the Zaslon operators.
In the safe house he’d read his complete orders and brief for the mission, and he’d been astonished by the overall scope of the operation, the incredible events of the past week and a half, and, most of all, the fact that the leader of the task force who’d been relieved of command was Sirena.
Utkin knew Zoya Zakharova, and while he couldn’t stand that edgy bitch, he had never known her to fail in the field. She’d worked with Zaslon units much more than Oleg had; she was accustomed to guns and rope ladders and parachutes and all that other silliness, whereas Oleg was a “suit and tie” man, a different type of operative altogether.
He’d been warned by the Lubyanka that Sirena had not returned to Moscow as ordered, and although his control officer had asserted she’d probably just gone AWOL to drown herself in booze for a couple of days for being pulled off such an important operation, Oleg Utkin figured she was probably going it alone, still working some angle involving Fan Jiang, because he knew Zoya was a woman wholly unaccustomed to losing.