“It’s Batman and Malibu,” Garrison said. “They’re down. Shot down by
MiGs.”
Tombstone’s eyes widened. “Oh, God! Were there chutes?”
He shrugged. “Price and Zig-Zag made it back and trapped a few hours
ago. They’re still getting debriefed. The word is that the Batman and
Malibu were out of sight when they went in. No sign of chutes, no SAR
radio contact … but that could just mean they were too far away.” He
hesitated before adding, “There’s a hold on SAR ops up there. Something
about problems coordinating with the Thais. I’m sorry, Tombstone. But
I thought you’d want to hear it straight.”
“Yeah.” Tombstone nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
Batman and Malibu down … attacked while flying the mission Tombstone
was supposed to have been on.
“You okay, Skipper?” Army was watching him closely.
“I’m fine.” Tombstone kept his voice level. “No problem. Where’s
CAG?”
“Ashore.”
“What? Where, Sattahip?”
“Better than that. Bangkok. With the admiral and most of both staffs.
They flew in by helo with their war paint on.”
Coordinating with the That military over what to do about the incident,
no doubt. Would there be a rescue effort, he wondered, or were Batman
and Malibu going to be left on their own?
Garrison seemed to sense the fire in Tombstone’s eye. “Look,” he added.
“I’m sure everything possible’s being done for our guys …”
“Yeah,” Tombstone said. He turned to leave. “Right. I’ll grab CAG
when he’s back aboard.”
“Where you heading, Skipper?”
“Up to the ready room. After that I’ll be in my quarters if you need
me.”
He walked away without another word.
1900 hours, 17 January
Kiong Toey, Bangkok
General Hsiao entered the warehouse as his chauffeur held the door wide.
The building was located in a run-down section of Bangkok’s waterfront
district, a dilapidated, rust-streaked collection of warehouses and
storage sheds off At Narang Road. Hsiao strode down passageways formed
by stacked crates and wooden pallets. A That shipping company, itself
owned by Hsiao’s agents, had bought the warehouse the year before, and
it served well as headquarters and meeting place, out of the public eye.
His office was a plasterboard cubicle in the back, equipped with desk,
telephone, and a single chair. It was illuminated by a single bulb
hanging on its cord from the ceiling. A teenager armed with an AK-47
performed a crude approximation of snapping to attention as Hsiao opened
the door and went inside.
“Phreng!” Hsiao called. “Phreng, where are you?”
A dark-skinned That civilian with a jagged white scar down the left side
of his face appeared in the doorway moments later. “General Hsiao,” he
said without expression, “We were not expecting you to return so soon.”
Hsiao stared back at the man, assessing him. Phreng Kitikachom had been
a minor gangster, one of Bangkok’s medium-level providers of heroin and
raw opium, until Hsiao had taken him into his growing
organization–Never much more than a petty thug, Phreng and the criminal
contacts he maintained throughout the city nonetheless had proven useful
as Hsiao assembled the intricacies of Sheng li. There were times when
Hsiao needed such contacts, times such as this, which was why he’d kept
Phreng on the payroll.
“Things are moving more quickly than we anticipated,” Hsiao said. “It
appears that the Americans will soon be involved.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need several American sailors, men off the carrier now at Sattahip.
Bangkok should be full of them tonight … especially Patpong.”
“Yes, sir.” There was the faintest tug at the corner of the That’s
mouth. “My girls have been busy already.”
“Yes.” Among his other enterprises, Hsiao knew, Phreng ran a string of
girls in the sex and sin district called Patpong. He shifted to
English, which Phreng understood. “Perhaps you can put them to good use
tonight. I need two or three men from that carrier. They should work
in radar, in flight operations, or in the carrier’s air traffic control
center.” He pronounced the words carefully, and made Phreng repeat them
back before shifting back to That. “Tell your people, quickly.”
“There is urgency in this, sir?”
Hsiao nodded. “There is. I am not sure what the Americans’ reaction to
the loss of one of their planes will be. It is possible that they will