Chapter Thirty Two

The young Hmong lay on his back, a trickle of blood flowing with thick bile from his mouth testament to severe internal rupturing. A single shot wound marked the entry point where a high-calibre bullet had torn through, clipping several of his major organs on its deathly passage. He fell where he now lay, tossed back against the overgrowth. No attempt had been made to cover him. Either the culprits were expecting no further company or their arrogance outweighed any fear of pursuit.

Kae moved the young man’s outstretched hand with his boot, clumsily catching a finger. Checking for any sign of life was needless for he knew the Hmong had died instantly, dull comatose eyes testament to the injustice of his untimely end. There was no sense that Kae might be disrespectful, abusing any dignity left to the young fighter. The way that the waxen hand flopped down was indication enough that death was recent, probably within the hour. Kae knew enough about death scenes to figure this one passed over without any fight. The shot almost certainly came from back up the track from the direction they were coming. He glanced around, checking for boot prints and signs of recent life. The ground was dusty and hard, making it difficult to judge who or how many might have come this way. Most of it was covered in thick rye grass, blanketing any evidence beneath. The luckless Hmong was probably on lookout duty. Kae figured he was there to whistle in the rear guard once they arrived. What he had been unaware of was that Kae had beaten him to it and was currently trooping the remaining Hmong, with Rusty and Jean to keep them company, kept in line by the barrel of Vig’s trusty Glock. Their hands were bound, just in case they fancied their chances for rushing either of his two accompanying mercenaries.

Earlier, on the main road, they had been riding the antiquated truck towards the Plain of Jars. After the loose bullet had picked John out, they had been able to extract very little from the two backpackers, Jean and Rusty. Jean in particular had clammed up and huddled down with her own sombre thoughts in the back of the truck. Half hidden under tarpaulin, she had chewed absently at her lower lip whilst replaying John’s murder in her mind frame by frame. Rusty had appeared more angry, choosing simply to have no dialogue with their captors. His brooding eyes had failed to shield brief shades of menace as he’d slouched close to Jean, arms tightly wrapped around his knees. Initially Kae had chosen to reason, to use a piece of smiling false charm, but had been faced only the wall of silence. He had made attempts to put John’s death down to an accident, though all knew where the bullets had come from. Without reason as an ally, Kae could only now count on fear to keep his captives in check.

Kae knew the general direction: the few roads scarring the jungle so far east headed only one way, though any map would reveal the plains were vast, easily absorbing a party the size of Mike and his current hosts. He turned his attention briefly towards the two Hmong they were holding. To his mind they were more expendable, only because he would need the backpackers as his guest calling-card further into his quest. The farang would then quickly lose any special privileges. A few dull kicks from Vig did little to get the Hmong talking, pushing Kae into thinking of more adventurous pursuits of forced communication. It was a specialist area where he could exercise an exhaustive imagination. Then the call came. Mike could barely be heard above the static; during their interrupted conversation Kae continually forced him to slow down. He used the friend-in-need card, wanting to know where Mike was. He got around five words of dialogue, but he got them clearly. It might be enough to hunt down a scent, to point to where they could look for signs of recent passage. Some of the blanks on his map could now be accurately inked in. They would soon be able to close in.

The crude track was easily missed, recent tyre tracks marking out an entrance partly obscured by rambling thorn bushes and tall elephant grass. Despite these small clues they passed it before returning to give it a second glance. By the time they reached the hapless Hmong they were an hour closer to their intended quarry. The man was lying on his back, the first obvious sign of death being a solitary fly, lured into investigating the youth’s open mouth. A crimson stain through his midriff marked out where the killing bullet had passed through him, bringing him harshly to the ground.

Vig joined Kae by the side of the body. Like his bank-rolled commander he was no stranger to evidence of violence or death and was quick to cast his experienced eye over the immediate scene.

“It’s no execution,” he said. “The Hmong would never kill their own like this. They tend to bond together, rarely turning against one another. Even if they did, they would bury the body, partly out of respect but also to hide any evidence. I would say we have somebody else out here; they’re obviously armed and happy to kill on sight. They’re also ahead of us.”

“How many do you think there could be?” Kae asked.

Vig squatted down closer to the body, looking for any disturbance or foreign objects dropped in the immediate area.

“It is hard to say. The Hmong will have kicked up a load of dust as they passed. Any tracks put down after they left will be very difficult to isolate. There are a couple of signs that could help us. Nothing I can be sure about without a proper examination, though.”

“Go on,” Kae prompted, realising Vig was catching on to clues he was not seeing.

“It looks like a set of tracks has a shorter wheelbase, probably a jeep,” said Vig. “My instinct would be to say this passed after the larger trucks pushed their way through, but without more time I cannot be sure. There might be more than one jeep, which would make our job all the more dangerous.”

Kae nodded, assessing the risks ahead of them.

Vig continued to brush his hand through the tracks, checking for further imprints. He was happy to speak out loud to Kae using the Thai’s mother tongue. He felt confident neither Jean nor Rusty would understand any of the dialogue and knew the Hmong would understand very little. What he was less happy about was Kae’s earlier explanation of the task ahead and the implications it held for a critical armed stand-off before too long. All Kae was prepared to say was that they were on the trail of a hidden Buddha, a very valuable statue creating enough wealth for them both to retire in enviable luxury. Appealing though this was, Vig suspected Kae was keeping critical details under his hat and probably harboured a more sinister agenda once it came down to splitting any proceeds. Previous associations in their dark business portfolio generally involved Kae putting a set fee on Vig’s services. Carving up a stolen money pot into fair percentages took their relationship into new territory. He simply couldn’t see them over a table shaking hands on any kind of share.

A further drawback that Vig saw with the treasure-chasing scheme was how they would outwit the Hmong currently unearthing the Buddha further up the track. They certainly could not out-gun them, even with the two mercenaries in tow. Kae seemed assured that using Rusty and Jean as a diversion would be enough to overrun the party, alongside the added element of surprise. The worrying aspect now raising its troublesome head was that even if Kae nailed a surprise ambush and persuaded a collection of heavily armed Hmong into retreat, hopefully marooning them in the process, how they would then cope with a second, unidentified group who were clearly armed and presumably chasing the same Buddha? Vig reluctantly complied in following Kae for the time being, though would be sure to take any situation on visible danger alone. Whether they captured the prized Buddha or not, Vig knew that this assignment would be their last. No longer a man of calculated rationale, the Thai was becoming too emotionally obsessive, pushed to a point where he could never go back or accept failure. To do so would mean having nothing to return to. His prime riverside café lay in a charcoal slush-pit, a handsome price now on his head. Slipping back to his previous life of raw dealing now brought with it a death warrant. He could only now have a future with the high price of anonymity. For Kae the mission could not fail. And the stress this brought made him an unpredictable and dangerous man to side with. Vig at least still had his anonymous lifestyle in Vientiane, with the enviable bonus of an attractive Chinese mistress to welcome his return.

Kae must have noted Vig’s brief glance at their temporary captives as he surveyed the scene.

“We’ll take the two farang along as our guest surprise.” Kae smiled as he spoke, though his gaze drifted into the foreground. “Shooting the Hmong on the spot to lie beside their fallen comrade should be the more sensible option, but that can wait. We may need some manual labour later if we are to haul this precious Buddha away. I’m hoping our Hmong friends will do most of the heavy work before we surround them. It’s too hot for lifting, don’t you think?”

“Surround them?” Vig was quick to pick up on Kae’s improbable choice of phrase.

“Surprise alone will not be enough,” said Kae. “We must also convince them that we have half an army. Our two hostages will be enough to stun them whilst we threaten to shoot them on the spot.”

Vig tried to hide his immediate concerns. The plan seemed as good as any, given their limited resources. Though calling anyone’s bluff in a tight situation was fraught with obvious risk. Battlefield illusion was going to be a tough tactic to pull off. He would need to weigh up the situation for himself once they reached their target. As if they weren’t in enough danger from the Hmong, there remained the added complication of confronting an additional force, one probably responsible for bombing Kae’s livelihood. He needed to believe they would fall for the ruse.

Without waiting for further direction he began securing the two passive Hmong, anxious to ensure they remained silent witnesses to the afternoon’s firework show. Rusty and Jean sullenly watched the ropes being tightened, wondering what fate had in store for them.