Escape From Paradise (35 page)

“I won’t be staying for dinner, but I’ll return first thing in the morning. I’ll need to speak with you, as well, Agent Douglas—”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

Her eyes narrowed as he cut her off yet again. “Aye, I do believe it is necessary after the lengthy undercover operation you pulled. Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean nothing can get in your head and screw with it. I’m certain your time in Spain has affected you in various ways, Agent.”

He seemed to go to stone as she punctuated her statement with a pointed look. I shouldn’t have stood there watching, but nobody asked me to leave, and I was riveted. For the first time I wondered about what Mr. Douglas had been through. How long had he been on this mission?

His steel eyes were hard, and I don’t think he cared for the other agent much. “I’m not available to speak for a few days. I’ve got a quick turn-around trip to attend to.”

That jolted me and I stepped closer. “Where are you going?”

Agent MacDonald’s head swung toward me as if she’d forgotten I was there.

“I’m not inclined to say—”

Before he could finish I panicked, grabbing his arm, because I just
knew
he was going to go off and do something dangerous. “Please, don’t go. Stay here.”

His jaw locked for a second. “I need to do this one last thing. I’ll be back.”

“No!” I had his shirt in both fists.
Oh God, oh God, oh God
, he was going to get himself hurt or killed. What would I do without him?

He put his hands on my wrists, trying to gently unpry me. “Angela—”

“Where are you going?” And then it hit me with acrid clarity. “You’re going to try and find Fernando, aren’t you?” His pale look of surprise told me I’d hit the mark. “Take me with you!”

By now I could hear others coming down the hall, convening behind us.

“Please,” I begged. I felt his hands rubbing up and down my shoulders and arms in a way that was supposed to be calming, but had the opposite effect. “Take me. Don’t leave me. You don’t have to do this.”

“Aye, I do,” he said in a fierce voice. “I really do.”

“Angela,” Agent MacDonald said in a frigid tone. “Step away from Agent Douglas.”

“It’s fine,” he told her. “She’ll calm in a moment.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off his face, which was turned to the side. He was trying not to look at me. In that moment I knew, instinctually, that somewhere along the way we’d bonded. I believed he had a weakness for me. Maybe it stemmed from pity, or maybe it was a compulsion to care for something you’ve saved, but whatever it was that he felt for me, I would use it. I couldn’t let him leave.

“I can’t lose you! Don’t go, please don’t go!”

“What’s going on?” I heard Dad ask from behind me.

“Everything is fine, Mr. Birch,” Colin said. “I have some business to attend to, and I’ll be back shortly. Angela’s a wee upset, is all.”

“It’s time to let Agent Douglas go,” Agent MacDonald said, and then she put her hands on me. Her grip on my arm was tight as she tried to separate us. It reminded me of the grip Luis used to take.

Yeah. I flipped out.

My arms swung toward her and shoved her away as I screamed. I heard shouts. Mr. Douglas pulled me back, but Agent MacDonald’s claws surrounded my arms again and a shriek ripped from my throat. I couldn’t see straight. Mom’s sweet voice calling my name barely registered. I began thrashing, kicking my legs since they were the only part of me free. I felt my feet connect to soft tissue and heard the Agent’s angry yell.

“Just back away!” Mr. Douglas said to her.

He made a move to turn me and I heard Agent MacDonald say, “Hold her still.”

“No!” he yelled, and then I felt a sharp pinch in my upper arm. I looked up to see the fire of anger on his face, aimed at Agent MacDonald, who stood with a small syringe in her hand.

Mom rushed over and brushed the hair back from my face as I felt myself going limp in Mr. Douglas’s arms.

“You didn’t have to bloody drug her,” was the last thing I heard through his clenched teeth before the world went black.

He hated leaving for Thailand without even saying a proper good-bye to Angela. He also hated that the impulsive, power-hungry psych Agent had resorted to drugs when the girl hadn’t even had a decent meal that day. She’d probably wake up feeling ill. And he didn’t appreciate the knowing looks Agent MacDonald kept giving him, as if she couldn’t wait to dig around in his mind and fix him.

That shite wasn’t happening. Colin was right fucked up, but that bitch wasn’t the cure.

This trip would be the beginning of his cure.

One of the downfalls of being a secret payroll Agent was that he couldn’t carry a badge, which meant no weapons while flying.

It would be his first time in Thailand. Colin crammed as many Thai words and phrases into his mind as he could during the long flight. It helped keep his mind off Angela. As they neared their destination, Colin stared down at the thick green jungles and crystal blue waters. His fingers itched to paint it.

When he landed in Bangkok, he headed for the red light district, navigating his way through the busy streets to the arms dealer Abernathy had dug up. Despite the smog in the city, an aroma of spices made it smell like an exotic heaven, matching the rich culture all around him. But he wasn’t there for tourism and pleasure. He pulled a ball cap low over his forehead to hide his face and entered the side door of a bustling street market.

To an older woman with suspicious eyes, he said in Thai, “I need to see Daw.” He probably slaughtered the pronunciation, but she gave a jut of her chin toward a man handling an icy vat of fish.

The man stood when Colin approached, and without a word wiped his hands on his apron and motioned for Colin to follow him into a back room.

“You have money?” Daw asked when the door closed behind them.

Colin pulled out the wad and Daw snatched it with greedy hands, counting.

“What you want?” the man asked.

“A handgun.”

He pulled out three handguns of different calibers for Colin to choose from. He took the 9mm semi-automatic and disassembled it to be sure everything was in good condition before nodding and reassembling, stowing the gun at the back of his pants under his shirt. He bought a couple of clips, loaded.

“If it doesn’t work, I’m coming back for you,” Colin warned.

“It work. I try myself.”

Colin pulled a picture of Fernando from his pocket, but Daw turned his head and held up his hands, saying, “I do not involve myself in your business.”

Fair enough. Colin slid the picture back into his pocket and asked, “Where can I find a whore house?”

Daw didn’t blink an eye at this. He rattled off an address and opened the door for Colin to leave. It was the quickest, easiest acquisition he’d ever encountered, and he could only hope the rest of his stay in Thailand followed that pattern.

The tiny middle-aged woman who greeted him at the address he’d been given wore a large, fake smile. She bowed her head to him and waved a hand toward the scantily clad girls lined against the wall. Some eyed him coyly, others brazenly.

Colin pulled out the picture and the woman froze as she peered down at it, the smile disappearing.

“You looking for friend?” she asked in broken English.

“No,” Colin said. “Not a friend. Do you know where I can find him?”

She shook her head tightly and clasped her hands in front of herself. “I am business woman.”

Of course. Colin knew all too well that it was often difficult to get “business people” to talk. He pulled another wad of Thai bills from his pocket.

“May I speak to a few of your ladies?” He inclined his head toward the women against the wall.

The woman grabbed for the money and stuffed it away. “Be fast.”

Colin approached the girls, feeling a natural tingle of arousal when the first put a hand on his chest and cocked a knee to rub his leg. He held Fernando’s picture out to her and she stepped back, shaking her head.

“Do you know this man?”

Again she shook her head, dropping her eyes. He held the picture out for all the girls to see. The fear and loathing in their eyes showed they all knew of him.

“Tell me where to find him and you’ll never see him again.”

They exchanged looks of hope and suspicion, a silent conversation. Finally, the meekest stepped forward and blurted in a tiny voice, “He take the girls to rooms by the
the parks next to Royal Palace.” Her eyes got big, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said it.

“By Wat Po,” another added. The small girl gave her a grateful look.

“Rooms?” Colin asked. “Like a hotel?”

The two of them nodded. Then they all dropped their eyes nervously.

“Thank you,” Colin said, feeling right fucking chipper. “Have a lovely day.”

He tipped his head to the mistress and left.
Here I come, motherfucker.

Colin scouted the Royal Palace area looking for possible hotels or rooms where Fernando might take girls. He found three possible alleyways—shady places. It was a large, busy area, so he’d have to keep a keen eye out. He bided his time until nightfall.

By midnight, when he still hadn’t seen Fernando, he had to be proactive. He received hostile looks from a set of drug dealers at a corner, but paid them no mind, heading straight for a prostitute in a black mini skirt. He stood close enough to her to hide the fact that he was pulling out a picture between the two of them. In his other hand he held out money.

“Where is this man?” Colin asked.

She swallowed and swayed on her heels, turning her bloodshot eyes away with a tight shrug. Fine. Colin moved to the next.

This girl bit her lip and shot a glance past him to the two dealers who were inching closer.

Fuck.

He turned from the girl and strode to the two men, needing to get them off his tail.

“What can I get for this?” Colin asked, flashing cash between his fingers. The men seemed to relax at the sight of the money. One pulled out a rather large bag of marijuana and a smaller pouch of cocaine. Colin took the coke and handed over the money. “Thank you. Now I just need a woman and I’m all set. I’m quite enjoying my time in Thailand.”

One of them grinned with blackened teeth, probably relieved to think Colin was just a stupid tourist looking for a good time, and not a threat after all. They turned and left him alone. He’d flush the cocaine later.

Going back to the girl, he held out the money and picture. She stared down at them for a moment before slowly reaching for the money and whispering a street name.

“Kop kun,” he said.
Thank you.

She quickly turned away and he walked the two blocks to the street she’d given. He followed the sound of voices down an alley. He wished he could read the Thai signs hanging. When he came to the first doorway where a drunken man and woman stood, he asked, “Suorsdei?” He was fairly certain that meant “hotel.”

The man pointed to the next entrance and Colin nodded. He walked to the open doorway and pushed a thick curtain aside. A thin man stood inside behind a desk, alert.

Colin pulled out his cash, a universal sign of fucking peace, and said, “One room.”

“How long?” the man asked.

“One hour.” He nodded and they exchanged the money. The man gave him a room number, but no key, which Colin assumed meant no locks on the doors. Fan-fucking-tastic for him. He took his time down the hall, listening to the squeaking of beds and panting grunts sounding from inside. Two people fucked so hard in one room that the wall shook. The woman screamed. Colin tried the doorknob, peeking into the crack, but it was a Thai couple who didn’t even notice him. He closed the door and kept going.

At the end of the hall he heard the muffled protests of a girl and low voice of a man without a Thai accent. He stepped closer to the door and his heart clenched at the sound of the girl’s crying followed by another stifled shout of her pain and his moan of ecstasy.

With a glance down the hall, Colin pulled out his gun and cracked the door.

Fuck, yes.

There was that handsome face used to lure women, rutting against a girl from behind, shoving her face hard into the mattress to quiet her pleas. When Colin stepped in and closed the door with a kick of his heel, Fernando sat up on his knees with a look of shock. There was blood on his hands and stomach—on the girl’s back and ass. It turned Colin’s stomach and he pointed the gun at the bastard’s face. The girl flipped over and scuttled back.

Fernando’s hands flew up and his eyes darted around the room. “
Qué chingado!
Quién es usted?”
What the hell! Who are you?

That, Colin could understand. “I’m the man who killed your father. And the man who’s going to kill you.”

Fernando went deathly still for a moment, and then his wicked eyes lit up and he chuckled.

“My papa lives.”

Colin’s gut slickened with doubt.
No
. Was Marco alive? He couldn’t be. Fernando simply hadn’t heard the news yet.

“He’s dead, and so are you.”