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Tucker parks the Jeep next to a flat, rectangular building that Archie informs me is our rented warehouse. As soon as the car stops, I hop down and stretch my spine and arms like a cat that just woke up from a nap. The others join me in short order.
“Remember,” Logan whispers to no one in particular, even if I’m sure he means to remind whatever to me. “Not a word to anyone about our real mission. Always stick to the cover story.”
I ignore him and turn to Tucker. “What’s for lunch? Any local restaurants come with a recommendation?”
6
LOGAN
We eat a quick meal of brown rice and chicken Pad Thai at the only establishment that serves food in this tiny village of about five hundred souls. The town is built mostly of wooden huts, with dirt roads and only a few brick buildings, one of which is our warehouse. In this kind of landscape, our depot stands out more than I’d like. But it’s a small price we have to pay for the safety of having our equipment stored behind secure walls. Honestly, we don’t have any reason to suspect anyone of shady dealings, but to stay on the safe side, Dr. Boonjan and I have agreed we have to always assume the worst could happen and stick to our group, talk to as few people as possible, and keep a low profile.
At least, that was the plan.
Unfortunately, by the time lunch is over, news of our arrival has reached the locals. The moment we leave the restaurant, Winter somehow manages to have every kid in town following her around like ducklings. The photographer has a smile for everyone, and I swear she’s taking a portrait of every single street urchin. And I’m not suggesting she should be mean to the children, but she shouldn’t encourage them. Our escort is quickly turning into a mob. So much for not attracting attention.
Archie bumps shoulders with me. “Try not to look so pissed, it’s only kids.” He winks at me. “They’re not going to take out machine guns and rob us blind.”
I scoff. “Yeah, because that never happened.”
“That was South America, man,” Archie says. “Compared to narco-state, this is Switzerland.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” I say grimly. Before I snap, I busy myself with more practical issues.
I walk toward Somchai, who’s standing next to a small herd of mules and horses, and hand him a bowl to-go of Pad Thai. While we were eating, he was arranging our convoy for the last part of the trip to base camp.
I let him gulp down a few forkfuls before I ask, “How’s everything coming?”
“All set, Dr. Spencer,” he says. “The mules are loaded, and the horses saddled. Nice animals.”
“Okay, so we’re good to go?”
Somchai quickly finishes his meal. “Ready whenever the crew is ready.” His gaze drifts to the wide plaza in front of the warehouse where Winter is still entertaining the small kids, and he gives me a cheeky thumbs up.
I shake my head. So now all I have to do is rein in the photographer.
Lucky me.
I consider sending Tucker or Archie, but knowing them, and starting to get to know her, she’d probably rope them into posing for even more pictures with the locals. But if we want to reach our destination and build our camp before dark, we don’t have a minute to spare.
On my way to her, I stop next to Archie. “Call Dr. Boonjan and the military guys. We’re ready to go.” Then I sigh and walk into the middle of the plaza, prepared to receive grief. “You should wrap this up,” I tell Winter. “The horses are sorted and we need to hit the road.”
She gives me a polite look, and I almost expect her to comply with my request at once. But then her eyes shift to the caravan, and quickly back to me, the friendliness gone. “No one’s mounted yet.”
Always so confrontational. “Yeah, well, we’re all mounting now, so”—I make a wide gesture toward the waiting beasts—“whenever you please.”
“Okay,” she says curtly. “I’m taking another few shots and I’ll be right there.”
Sure, because the thousands you just took clearly aren’t enough.
I bite my tongue and say nothing. I only nod and walk away, careful not to shake my head or give any other sign she’s rattled me. Miss Pain-in-my-ass Knowles is making a point of not doing as she’s told just for the sake of it. But if I’ve understood her game, and I have by now, I’m fairly certain she won’t be late. She’ll wait just enough to annoy me, but not so long as to be the last one on horseback.
Women: what a dreadful species!
True to expectations, our darling photographer asks Somchai to assign her a mount not ten minutes later. Our local fixer chooses a beautiful silver mare for her, whose white mane is only slightly lighter than Winter’s braided platinum-blonde hair. I can’t help but stare as the woman gracefully hops on the mare and settles in the saddle as if she’s done nothing else but horse riding her entire life.
Archie comes up behind me, and I don’t need to turn to confirm he’s watching the scene with as much awe as myself.
He slaps one arm over my shoulder, and, like the devil he is, whispers in my ear, “And now the Khaleesi fantasy is complete.”
