Return to Tomorrow (22 page)

She opened her mouth to refuse.

“And if you don't, I'll lock you into my cell, so help me God.”

Anger flared inside her. For a moment it burned away her fear for him. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.” He reached around her, picked up his rifle and stalked away.

“Brett!” She started after him.

Billy grabbed her by the wrist and held her back. “Listen to him, Rachel. We can't take you along. You'll be safe here, even if you have to stay the night.”

“Don't leave me behind, Billy, please.” She couldn't plead with Brett. Her pride held no such power over her where Billy was concerned.

“I can't disobey the colonel's orders.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Take care of Ahnle and Domha for me.” He reached around his neck, removed a chain that held a worn set of dog tags and a small key. “Give this to Ahnle if anything happens to me. My lawyer has orders to turn over the contents of the safety deposit box to whoever presents the key. There's enough money there to get her to the States, or wherever she wants to go. You can get the lawyer's name and address at the Lemongrass.”

“Billy.” She refused to cry. “You've got to come back. All of you.”

“Sure we do.” He, too, spun on his heel and was gone.

Rachel stared at the gray box and its blinking light in her hand for a long moment. Her thoughts were too confused and chaotic to sort into rational order. All she knew was that she couldn't stay behind while Brett risked his life. Somehow, she had to find her way back to Khen Sa's camp. She started walking, then began to run.

She would follow them in Father Dolph's pickup. It would be easy to trail the heavily loaded truck in the soft earth of the forest road. She kept running, through the temple, trying not to cry, to give in to her fears.
If she could be with him, near him, she could keep him safe.

Rachel burst into the sunlight that fell full on the temple steps in a blinding glare, making her blink and raise her arm to shield her eyes. The clearing was deserted. There was nothing to show that it had held two dozen men and their vehicles just moments before. In the distance, the sound of the jeep's engine faded away, as if it were being swallowed alive by the jungle.

They were gone.

“Brett!” She slumped against the thick stone doorway. “Come back! Don't leave me.”

Her cries echoed back to her, ricocheting off the walls of the ruined temple and the living wall of gray-green jungle beyond. She took a few wobbly steps into the sunlight and sank to her knees, dry-eyed and trembling. Her hand was curled around the homing device, although she was no longer aware of it. Terror flooded over her, black and suffocating, stronger than ever before.

Alone.

She was still there, a small, huddled figure in the fading twilight, when Micah and Simon walked into the clearing three hours later.

R
ACHEL THOUGHT THE NIGHT
would never end.

It seemed as if they'd driven forever through the moonless jungle, over roads deserted of all other traffic, passing through sleeping towns and villages as they sped northward, but the hours they spent waiting for the Thai army helicopter at the airport in Chiang Rai were longer still. She almost lost her nerve again, waiting, felt her hope slipping away, but Simon and Micah were there for her; she wasn't alone and so had been able to make it through the night.

Now it was daylight and they were on their way, at last, to rendezvous with the crack team of Thai Rangers and DEA observers at the point where Brett and his men would head down into Khen Sa's valley on their own. She had no idea what strings Simon had pulled to get them on the helicopter. She didn't care. All she knew was that she refused to be left behind again, alone, waiting for fate to decide her future, as she'd been forced to do so often in her life.

Rachel leaned back against the hard bench seat of the aircraft but the vibrations made her head ache. She sat up and rested her hands on her knees, closed her eyes, tried not to think of anything at all.

“Are you okay?” Simon hollered above the roar of the engine.

“I'm fine.” She'd repeated the assurance several times since her brothers had found her huddled on the temple steps. She still wasn't certain they believed her, but what she said was true. She was all right, at least for the moment.

“Hang on. We'll be there soon.” Simon settled back against the uncomfortable bench and watched the mountainous terrain speed by below them. His dark brows were drawn together in a frown. He hadn't wanted her to come along. He'd told her it was for her own safety that she stay behind in Chiang Rai. But in her heart Rachel knew it was because he thought Brett's mission was doomed to failure and he didn't want her there to see him die.

One of the Thai military attachés riding with them addressed a question to Simon that Rachel couldn't hear above the roar of the rotors directly overhead.
Too many others were aware of what was going on.
Rachel's heartbeat skidded in fear. The presence of two American DEA observers and two Thai attachés in the helicopter with them told her that more plainly than any words. She narrowed her eyes against the rush of wind from the open hatch and tried to think of something else—anything else but the danger Brett and the others were facing.

She studied Micah's intent face as he, too, watched the heavily forested hills and sharp stone ridges pass beneath them. During the war how many missions had he flown in his small, light spotter plane, over just such country? How many times had he faced death in the jungle from mechanical failure and gunfire from the ground? How many men had he sent to their deaths in the skies over Laos when he'd commanded the Ravens
at the end of the war? Would he help her talk Brett out of this suicidal mission if she got the chance?

Rachel closed her eyes wearily.

“It won't be long now.”

She opened her eyes to find Micah watching her as closely as Simon had done. The lines of his face were taut with strain, but his eyes were clear and filled with excitement. Rachel had the answer to her last question then. Micah would not try to dissuade Brett from delivering the gold to Khen Sa. He would honor his friend's commitment to his cause, even if he knew he was sending him to his death.

“I know.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “You and Brett Jackson are very much alike, aren't you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I wanted you to talk him out of going.” It seemed incredible that they should be carrying on such a personal, intense conversation in voices so loud they were almost shouting. But time was too short to wait until they landed to voice her concerns.

“I can't do that, Rachel.”

“I know that, too. Men of honor are very hard to deal with.”
Or to love.

“You have to trust him, Rachel. There's no one better at what he does than Tiger. If he thinks he can get the heroin and the gold out from under Khen Sa's nose, then he can.”

She'd stuck the ball cap in the waistband of her slacks when they boarded the helicopter. Now she pulled it out and traced the embroidered white
D
on the crown with her fingers. “You think he'll make it, don't you?” She felt a small stirring of new hope, strengthening hope.

“I pray he does.” Micah settled back against the seat.

“What are you two discussing over here?” Simon asked, leaning close. The DEA men were watching with interest. Rachel shot Micah a pleading look.

“Rachel's tired,” he yelled back. “It was a long night.”

“You should have tried to get some sleep in the car.”
Poor Simon.
Rachel couldn't help but smile.
He was still trying to take care of them both.

“I did try.” Her smile turned impish. She stuck the cap on her head and pulled it down tight to keep the wind from blowing it off. “You still drive like a bat out of hell, just like you always did.”

“I'm an excellent driver.”

“Yeah, sure.” Micah gave a snort and settled back in his seat. The shadowy memories of war and death that hovered around them retreated for the moment. She loved her brothers so. She had been right to fight so hard to stay alive all those years so that they could be together again, as a family.

The helicopter banked to the left abruptly and started to descend. “We're here,” one of the DEA men hollered, the one who had been staring at her a few minutes earlier. She hadn't caught his name back at Chiang Rai. She still didn't know what it was and she didn't care. She clutched the strap hanging above her head for balance and looked out the hatch. They were dropping alongside another, heavily armed helicopter, its blades rotating idly, its crew aboard, as if ready to take off at a moment's notice.

There was no road leading in to the site, but a faint track snaked through the trees, toward a break in the
ridge-line. Rachel caught a glimpse of laden ponies, picking their way along the steep path, before the trees shut off her view. Her heart jerked painfully in her chest.

They were gone. She was too late to say goodbye.

 

H
E'D KNOWN FROM THE
beginning that the operation might end in a violent confrontation with Khen Sa, but he had believed the risk was worthwhile. Singleton and Major Phounjam, who was in charge of the Thai troops, agreed with him, although the king, devout Buddhist that he was, wanted as little bloodshed as possible. Brett, himself, never had any doubts—until Rachel showed up. Walking away from her again had been close to impossible. And it made him question what he was doing.

Maybe he should pull back; turn the ponies over to Khen Sa, take the heroin and run. No one would blame him. A good poker player knew when to cut his losses and toss in the cards. This felt like one of those times. Then he thought of the guns and ammunition Khen Sa could buy, probably had already ordered from the Vietnamese or the Chinese, and he knew he had to recover the gold.

Just over two hours later, Brett dismounted inside the periphery of Khen Sa's camp, took his bearings and walked to the head of the pack train, where Billy was arguing with one of the warlord's lieutenants.

“What's wrong?” Brett demanded in English.

“Damned idiot wants us to march these ponies right out into the middle of the village square to unload them. Says it's more
convenient
.” He grunted dismissively. “My mama didn't raise no fool. We'd be sittin' ducks out there.” As always, when he was under pressure, Billy's
Georgia accent grew stronger. He ordered Khen Sa's henchman away with a curt command.

Brett waited until the man was gone. “Don't move the ponies or the gold until I've talked to Khen Sa. Keep Naga and six or eight of the others with you and the gold. Leave Chan in charge of the rest. I don't want anybody developing an itchy trigger finger and getting us all blown to kingdom come.”

“Exactly what I intend to do.” Billy grinned, but it never reached his eyes. “Speakin' of trigger fingers, did you see that guy's weapon?”

“Chinese,” Brett said shortly, “and brand-new. Probably used the quarter-million we gave him as a down payment.”

“Your hunch was right. It appears to me the general's gonna be in a hell of a fix if he don't come up with the rest of what he owes.”

“Be careful.”

“Don't worry. I have no intention of meetin' my Maker on a fine day like this.” The words were lightly spoken, but his expression was cold and completely focused, alert to every sound and movement that might mean danger or betrayal.

“What do you want me to do, Colonel?” Lonnie asked, coming up behind Brett. His thumb was hooked into his belt loop, just in front of the revolver strapped to his waist.

“Stay with me.” There was no way Brett could be sure how the younger man would react if they came under fire. Lonnie had been so traumatized by the war, by combat, that he'd never recovered. His body was so damaged by his addiction that he was an unknown quantity
in a firefight. Brett couldn't trust him on his own, and he couldn't leave him behind.

“This place gives me the creeps. It's too ordinary-looking, you know? I'd have figured Khen Sa would have doubled his soldiers for a deal like this.”

“He has,” Brett said. “He's just keeping them under wraps, and that's what bothers me. Any good commander would have beefed up his forces for an operation like this on general principles. But only a man bent on a double cross would keep them hidden from view.”

“In other words, watch your ass, buddy,” Billy said, giving Lonnie a punch on the shoulder.

“I already feel like my eyeballs are going round in circles from trying to do just that. Here comes the general,” Lonnie said through stiff lips. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin jaundiced. His hands were shaking, but he'd been clean for three weeks and felt in control.

“Stick with me,” Brett told him once more. “Billy, if anything goes wrong, get those ponies the hell out of here. If Khen Sa does pull a double cross and tries to keep the heroin, he'll make his move on you first.”

“Don't worry. He ain't gonna get the gold.”

Billy knew it was a fight to the death. A man like Khen Sa couldn't be stopped unless he was destroyed. Brett could count on Billy. There wasn't a better man Brett could have at his back. “Don't try to be a goddamned hero.” What he meant but didn't say was “Don't get yourself killed.”

“I ain't no hero.”

“Colonel.” Lonnie's gaze flickered past Billy's shoulder. Brett turned to face Khen Sa. He had no idea if the Thai Ranger captain assigned to keep him in sight was
observing their conversation from his vantage point on the ridge above camp. If he wasn't, they were in worse trouble than before. The other patrols would only move in on his signal. Visual contact was their only means of communication. They couldn't afford to take the chance of bringing any kind of radio transmitters into the village. Khen Sa was no fool. He was watching Brett just as closely as Brett was watching him.

“Take it easy, buddy,” Lonnie called over his shoulder to Billy as he followed Brett to where Khen Sa was standing.

“Watch your backside,” Billy reminded him once more, and only Brett recognized the emotion in his voice.

“Mr. Jackson,” Khen Sa said with a thin smile and a bow so slight it was an insult. “It is very good to see you again.”

“We've brought the gold,” Brett said, ignoring the greeting and the smile. His scalp prickled with the awareness that he was being watched. By the Thai captain, he hoped, as well as by Khen Sa's soldiers, some of whom were lounging in the doorways of various huts, their weapons close at hand.

“Bring the ponies forward. We will take the gold from their packs and load what you have purchased.”

Brett shook his head. “I make a gift to you of the ponies. We have brought others for the heroin.”

Khen Sa's face grew hard. “You do not trust me?”

Brett remained silent.

The other man's hand moved toward the revolver at his waist, then relaxed. He smiled again. “Of course, we will be happy to accept the gift of your ponies.” He
motioned toward the big barn-like structure that housed the opium refinery and the heroin. “You will want to make sure you are getting what you pay for. If you will follow me…”

Two of the warlord's bodyguards joined them, flanking their leader. All three of the men kept their distance from Lonnie and Brett. The feeling of being watched grew stronger. Brett felt sweat trickle down his spine. He took off his hat and tucked it into the waistband of his pants, the prearranged signal for the Thai captain to be ready for whatever happened next.

Brett stopped some distance from the open side of the building. Inside, it was dark and shadowed in contrast to the tropical brightness of the day. “Bring out the heroin and I will have the ponies brought forward.”

“You are a hard man to bargain with.”

Khen Sa raised his hand and all hell broke loose.

Brett had no idea if the warlord intended to call his men to bring out the bags of heroin, or if he intended to do away with him, then and there, but the Thai captain, from his vantage point on the ridge, had no such doubts. He opened fire and shots rang out from the other patrols of Rangers, as well. They were answered almost immediately from within the camp. One of the ponies screamed in pain and Brett hoped Billy got his men to safety before Khen Sa's soldiers started picking them off one by one.

He took off at a crouching run, trusting Lonnie to keep close behind him. The only cover they had any hope of reaching was the opium barn itself. Behind him, he could hear Khen Sa yelling orders and staccato bursts of automatic weapons fire, neighing horses and Billy,
shouting, as he deployed the men. Brett kept running. Billy and the others were on their own, but if Billy got the gold to safety, Brett knew his friend would be back to help him fight his way out of the spot he was in.