Клайв Касслер - Typhoon Fury

“And it needs to arrive at the train a minute before that. Can you fly it back that fast, Gomez?”

Gomez stroked his mustache and grimaced. “From this distance? It’ll be really close.”

Murph took the cue and left the op center so he’d be ready to put the USB drive back in the drone the moment it was available.

Max turned to Linda. “Get us within a half mile of the coast, and let’s hope Juan keeps the Chinese too distracted to notice us.”

11

THAILAND

Beth Anders traveled around the world for her job and she knew all the scams. When a young Bangkok street urchin approached her to beg for money, she politely but firmly declined, knowing he would just take her charity straight back to some scuzzball who took advantage of these poor kids. As she walked down the busy road in the Patpong District, she kept her bag in front of her and her hand on the clasp.

At night, the shops would be lit up in flashy neon, and girls would be standing outside of the clubs enthusiastically advertising their wares. But in the late afternoon, the scene just seemed sad. In addition to many umbrella-topped food carts, street vendors hawked all kinds of magazines and items that Beth didn’t even want to look at. Pharmacies sold nearly any prescription drug you could ask for at a fraction of the cost in other countries. Valium and psychedelic mushrooms were particular favorites. For those who preferred liquid anesthetics, there were bars everywhere. Drunken tourists were getting a head start on their nightlife, weaving their way among the motorcycles and three-wheeled tuk-tuks that crowded the road.

Although Beth knew she was probably safe at this time of day, she was glad she wasn’t alone. Raven Malloy walked next to her, constantly scanning her surroundings. Unlike Beth, she carried no purse, keeping her hands free at her sides.

“Of course, they had to pick one of the sleaziest parts of Bangkok for the meeting,” Beth said.

“They’re drug dealers,” Raven replied in a clipped contralto. “What did you expect?”

“Originally, they wanted this meeting at two in the morning, but I told them that wasn’t going to happen.”

“Smart, but this is still a big risk. If they figure out what you’re doing, they’ll kill us both.”

“That’s why I brought an Army Ranger with me. You’re there to watch my back.”

Raven kept scanning. “I was a military police investigator. I only applied to Ranger School. They didn’t start allowing women in until after I had left the Army.”

“I’m sure you would have passed.”

Raven shrugged. “We’ll never know. Maybe they did me a favor. This job pays a lot more.”

“Your fee is definitely worth it if we’re successful.”

A white man in his thirties, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, staggering in their direction, caught sight of Raven and made a beeline for her. Raven didn’t stop walking, so Beth didn’t, either. The man, who was at least six inches taller and forty pounds heavier than either of them, lurched around to walk next to Raven, matching her pace despite his condition. Beth could smell the gin on his breath from three feet away.

“Hey, baby,” he said to Raven, completely ignoring Beth. “I’ve been looking for a girl like you all my life.”

“To kick you in the crotch?” Raven asked without missing a beat.

The guy’s eyes went wide. “Hey, you’re American like me! I’m from Florida. Name’s Fred. What’s yours?”

“I guess you were too plastered to hear the crotch-kicking part. You think you’re too drunk to feel it?”

“Now, is that any way to talk to a fellow countryman? I just think you’re pretty, that’s all. What’s wrong with telling a pretty girl that?”

“For one, I don’t care what you think. And, two, that’s how I always talk to idiots.”

He finally noticed Beth next to Raven and said, “Wow, you’re smoking hot, too. If she’s not in the mood, maybe you and I can have some fun.”

“Listen, Fred,” Raven said. “I’m giving you one more chance. If you don’t leave us alone, my knee and your privates are going to become mortal enemies.”

“Stop being such a buzzkill,” he said. “You know you want to party, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

And then Fred made the mistake of putting his hand on Raven’s shoulder.

With lightning speed, she grabbed his hand and bent it backward. He let out a yelp as he tried to keep her from breaking his wrist. True to her word, Raven launched her knee into his crotch in a vicious strike.

The breath whooshed out of Fred in an audible gasp, and he collapsed to his knees before keeling over into the fetal position and cradling his groin with a whimper.

Raven continued on, barely breaking stride, as if she had just plucked an annoying pebble from her shoe.

Beth would be surprised if that was her guardian’s first unsolicited proposition. With long jet-black hair tied in a ponytail, high cheekbones, and smooth caramel skin that Beth would have killed for, Raven was a stunner, even without makeup. Her snug T-shirt showed off her buff biceps and shoulders but was loose-fitting around the waist, and her jeans followed the curves of her perfectly shaped legs. Just listening to a recitation of her grueling training regimen made Beth break out in a sweat.

Looking at her again, Beth could understand why Fred had assumed Raven was Thai. She had a look that was hard to pin down. Depending on the angle, she could be Arab, Indian, Hispanic, or Polynesian, but she was actually Native American, a mix of Cherokee and Sioux. Her Irish surname came from her adoptive parents, who had both been in the military. Her features meant she could blend in with dozens of different cultures around the world.

Beth, on the other hand, was so Caucasian she could have appeared in a commercial for Scottish tourism. She was tall like Raven but had a flaming red mane of wavy hair, and her skin was alabaster white. She was in good shape, jogging whenever she could, but she was envious of Raven’s athletic physique. She resolved to hit the hotel gym more often.

Beth could still hear Fred groaning behind them when they reached a club called Nightcrawlers. She stopped and looked up at the sign, which was outlined in neon light beside the image of an impossibly thin woman.

“Remember,” Raven said, “if this goes bad, stick close to me.” She had explained the layout of the building to Beth, including all of the exits, after scouting the club the night before. Raven said she always liked to know how to get out of a building if she had to.

“I’ve dealt with guys like this before,” Beth said. “All they care about is the money.” She didn’t add that these guys were tougher than most, but it apparently came out in her voice.

“We can still call it off,” Raven said. “We could head back to the car and give Interpol a call.”

Beth may have been apprehensive, but she was also determined.

“And give up a chance for a five-million-dollar payday, not to mention solving the greatest art heist in history?” she said. “No way.”

They entered the club and were met by a huge bouncer.

“Club is closed until nine,” he said in English.

“I’m Beth Anders,” she said. “Udom is expecting us.”

The bouncer nodded and pointed to a flight of stairs at the back.

Udom was the first name of the Thai drug dealer that had set up the meeting. He didn’t give a last name, not that Beth had asked. Surnames had been required in Thailand after a law was passed in 1913, but many Thai still preferred to use just their first names when they could.

They went upstairs and were met by another guard, this one even bigger than the one at the front door. She gave her name again and was allowed in.