Page 42 of The Big Fix

“You and me both, kid,” I agreed, releasing Jing in time to see the gunboats completing their turn, the little powerhouses closing in again for the kill.

“We’re gonna die here if we’re sitting still,” Garland said flatly.

He was a rock under pressure. I would need to remember to tell Dante.

Jing took a deep breath, collected herself, said, “Hold on to something,” then shoved the twin throttles to full. The craft propelled through the water like we’d been shot from a cannon. She steered the powerboat in the direction of the gunboats on a collision course. “Stay down!” she yelled, as the gunmen opened fire, rounds hammering against the hull in a relentless staccato.

It was clear she intended to use the sheer size of our boat to her advantage, continuing at full speed, closing the distance. The powerboat’s bow came out of the water as it rammed into the front-running gunboat. I held on and gritted my teeth as the speedboat catapulted over the smaller vessel, launching into the air.

“Shit!” Nam screamed from behind me.

The gunboat exploded, and ours hit the water hard, the recoil knocking me, Nam, and Garland to the deck. When I checked on Jing, she was smiling, so that was good.

The last gunboat overshot us again, the craft forced to slow to complete its turn, then resume pursuit.

Jing shoved the throttles to the wall, and we were off again. The move gained us only a few seconds before the gunboat was on us, guns tracking. Bullets shot across the water, breaking the surface with dozens of jabbing spurts.

“At fifty meters they’ll be able to put shots in us,” Garland yelled.

“How good a shot are you?” I returned.

“Better than most.”

“Better than that estimation, I hope. Now is not the time for downplaying your strengths.”

“You put it in front of me, I can hit it, sir.”

Rushing to the bag Garland had been digging around in earlier, I pulled off my polo and wrapped four concussion grenades in it, then turned to Garland.

“They’ll need to be pretty close,” Garland said, understanding my plan.

“Not too close. I can’t die today.”

Garland nodded.

“Go, Jing!”

She savagely cranked the wheel, feinting to starboard, then cut sharply to port to throw off the gunners as she swerved the powerboat around the gunboat’s bow, buzzing them with less than five meters between us. The sport boat’s wash pitched the gunboat into a rolling motion that threw off the aim of the gunners. Holding the rifle with my left hand, I aimed at the bow gunner and fired. The round caught the gunman in the face, throwing him back into the second shooter. With my right hand, I tossed the bomb at the deck of the gunboat, and Garland aimed his smaller MK-10 at the bundle and fired. Jing steered the boat away just as the grenades exploded. The force of the explosion was like a sledgehammer against the powerboat, nearly capsizing us, knocking us all off our feet as the boat exploded and rained debris in the water and over us.

The boat slowed, and after a moment, I got to my feet, my ears still ringing from the blast. Jing turned to look at me, opening and closing her jaw, trying to get her ears to work. We’d been knocked around, and we were bloodied and bruised, but nothing catastrophic. The other good news was that the bullet-ridden boat was still seaworthy.

Jing shook herself all over, needing to get her bearings, then took control of the boat again. I had Nam take a seat on the cushioned area in the rear of the boat with Garland, and I heard him praying in gratitude. Garland was right behind him, crossing himself before shooting me a smile.

“You guys at Torus always have this much fun, Colonel?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Jing assured him. “You should see our New Year’s Eve parties. Those get really wild.”

His laughter was good to hear, and Nam had a bemused expression on his face as he looked at him. The day had just infinitely improved.

As Jing turned the craft toward Koh Kret and sped away, I felt better than I had since we arrived in Bangkok.

EIGHT

“The manmade island of Koh Kret was populated by the Mon people after the fall of the Ayutthaya kingdom, and compared to Bangkok, it’s like another world,” I told them as the Demon followed the Chao Phraya River toward our destination. “The island’s delicate remoteness and fairy-tale small, rustic fishing-village quality makes the polluted urban megacity living of Thai Krung Tep seem a million miles away.”

“Really?” Jing whined, squinting at me, stopping me from saying any more. “You always have to do the history thing?”

“Don’t you want to know these things?”