being paid extra for difficult work. I terminated their contracts early and finished cutting the bamboo myself.”
“Good,” Wallis grunted.
Working quickly now, using the intermittent flashes of the Fire-Fly™ for illumination, the two men tore open the two plastic bags, dumped the shredded remains of their office correspondence into the hole, and then tossed in the splintered lengths of bamboo, burying the bodies under a cross-laced fibrous mat almost a foot thick.
Then they opened up the tarp, spread it out as a much-too-big liner for the remaining portion of the hole, and worked as a team — Lanyard handing the rifles and back-packs down to Wallis who carefully arranged them in the hole, covered them with the tarp flaps, and then used a roll of duct tape to seal the bundle from the corrosive Thai soil.
A few minutes later, the two men finished arranging the sod squares over the crossed support boards covering the duct-taped cache, tossed an assortment of shredded brush and leaves over the sod, and stood up.
“I don’t think we have to worry about anyone finding this lot,” Wallis said, nodding in satisfaction as he looked around at the clearing that he knew, from experience, would be overgrown again with a few days.
“Not bloody likely,” Quince Lanyard chuckled as he looked up at the still-pulsing Fire-Fly™ hanging from an overhead tree limb, used the remote device to shut it off, and then dropped the remote back into his pocket. “If it wasn’t for GPS, and that little flasher, I wouldn’t have found it either.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, using the IR-glow of the shed light as a guide, the two men were back at their Land Rovers.
Reaching into the back of his vehicle, Wallis pulled out a pair of armored vests with filled magazine pouches, two assault rifles, a pair of military ammo boxes, and a case labeled ‘electronics.’ As Lanyard transferred the armaments to Lanyard’s Land Rover, Wallis pulled out the five-foot-long Pelican™ case and the blue-striped military ammo can.
“Take this along too,” Wallis said.
Lanyard took the fifty-pound case and equally heavy blue-striped ammo box, and juggled both in his muscular hands. “You really think Jack and I’ll need something like this to deal with Kai and his boys?”
“If Yak’s the one who informed on us, no, you shouldn’t,” Wallis said. “If not —” He shrugged. “Do what you have to do, and then dump it with the rest of the gear.”
“Bloody expensive toy to be tossing out with the trash after one use, don’t you think?” Lanyard suggested in a voice that was fully respectful. Wallis had always encouraged Lanyard and Gavin to offer their opinions; but there was no question as to who was the leader of their illicit team.
“It’s just a tool that’s easily replaced. Don’t hesitate to use it if you have to,” Wallis replied firmly.
Lanyard acknowledged the order with a quick nod of his head. “Any word on Choon’s whereabouts?”
“He was at a brokers meeting in Surat yesterday. Explains why we weren‘t told about the new patrol.”
“Is that a normal assignment for a police captain?”
Wallis shook his head. “I doubt it. Probably got sent there by Bangkok HQ.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re on to us. Could have been a routine check, and they moved him out of the way because they don’t trust him.”
“But if they think he’s helping hunters, we’ll have that damned Colonel Kulawnit on our ass.”
“Kulawnit’s scheduled to be at the Wildlife Interpol meeting in Tokyo all week,” Wallis replied evenly. “By the time he returns, we should be out of Thailand.”
“Damned good thing. What about Yak?”
“We’re having an early breakfast at his house tomorrow morning.”
“How did he sound?”
“Sleepy, confused, and upset that I know where his mistress lives. Not like a man waiting nervously to hear if