Fatal Reunion - A James Acton Thriller Book #33 Page 5
Reading’s eyebrows rose at this little tidbit. “Really?”
“It’s good to be rich,” said Tommy, as giddy as his girlfriend.
Laura continued. “So, you can arrive well-rested, then we’ve got air-conditioned vehicles that will take us to the Vietnamese border. You don’t even have to get out. This is all for Mai and her reunion with her dad. I’ve been told you’ll get about an hour with him, then we’ll head back to Phnom Penh where we have rooms at a five-star hotel reserved, all air-conditioned, I assure you, then we’ll head home the next day in the same aircraft.”
Acton chuckled as he regarded him. “If you wiggle that ass between air-conditioned venues, you might only have five minutes grand total of exposure to the elements.”
Reading sighed. “That’s my kind of trip.”
Laura smiled at him. “I figured that would make you happy. Of course, if you don’t want to go, you have your own suite upstairs that you can stay in until we get back.”
He glanced over at the stairs leading to his new haven. It was a tempting idea, though he dismissed it. “No, I’ll come with you, just in case you two decide to do something stupid.”
Laura held up her hands. “This is a simple two-day trip. We’re not even planning on any side-trips.”
“Why not?”
“We were lucky to get the visas on compassionate grounds. Trying to tack on additional days would have been too difficult.”
Reading cracked his knuckles. “Cambodia isn’t exactly Germany. Do we have any security concerns?”
“I don’t, but Cameron does. He will be meeting us at the airport with three of his team and some local contacts. They’ll provide security while we’re there.”
Reading had to admit he felt a little better knowing Cameron Leather, former British Special Air Service, would be there with a team. He was excellent at what he did, and the only way Reading would feel any better was if Bravo Team was there, since they’d also have the backing of the US military and intelligence apparatus behind them—Leather was private, so didn’t have the fancy toys.
Acton leaned over and fished his cellphone out of his pocket, pulling up a message. His frown went unnoticed by the others as Mai was beyond excited at the prospect of seeing her father, but Reading caught it.
“What’s wrong?”
His question had everyone turning to Acton. “Nothing wrong, but I have an interesting email from Professor Chayan Bunthan.”
“Who’s that?” asked Laura.
“His father was an old friend of Greg’s, and his son ended up going to my alma mater, about ten years after I graduated. I met him once, years ago, at his graduation. His father invited Greg and I to attend. Nice kid. Very sharp.” Acton scratched his wrist. “I guess he wouldn’t be a kid anymore. He’s probably early thirties.”
“What’s he want?” asked Reading, sensing things were about to take a turn.
“He wants me to come to his dig and inspect an artifact he’s found.”
Laura repositioned on the couch to face her husband. “Where?”
“Thailand.”
“Well, that borders Cambodia. We could delay our return and drop by.”
“I’m game,” said Tommy. “I’ve always wanted to see Thailand.”
Mai elbowed him. “You just want to see the girls.”
He grinned. “I already have my own Asian hottie. Why would I want to stare at others?”
“I’ve seen your browser history.”
Reading snorted at Tommy’s shocked expression. “Where in Thailand?”
“Outside of some place I’ve never heard of. Kanchanaburi.” Acton tapped away at his phone then pursed his lips. “Huh. Pretty remote.” He glanced up at Reading. “I doubt they have air conditioning.”
Reading rolled his eyes. “I knew something would ruin this trip.”
Laura gave him a look. “Now, now, I see two choices. One, you take the plane home as scheduled, we’ll visit the dig site, then come back a couple of days later.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Or two, we book you into a fancy hotel in Bangkok, and you can park your butt in front of a TV in an air-conditioned room with an unlimited supply of beer brought to you by buxom Thai beauties.”
“Now I like the sound of that.”
Tommy held up a finger. “Can I stay with him?” Mai swatted him and he laughed. “I was just joking.”
“Remember, I’ve seen your browser history.”
Acton looked at Reading. “So, it’s settled? You’ll stay in Bangkok and we’ll head to the dig site. It will probably only be a couple of days. It will give you a chance to unwind from the flight and relax. Who knows, you might even venture outside and see some of the sights.”
Reading grunted. “I doubt that, but I think I could stand to relax for a few days and sample the local room service.”
“Great. I’ll let him know we’re coming.” Acton began typing a message when he glanced at Laura. “And you better let Leather know to arrange some security in Thailand.”
“Why? I thought Thailand was safe.”
Acton wagged his phone. “He says to bring security if we can.”
Reading tensed, leaning forward. “Does he say why?”
“No, but it is in a remote area. It’s probably just a precaution.”
Reading leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Maybe I better be coming with you. Just in case.”
10 |
Khwae Noi Tributary Dig Site Kanchanaburi District, Thailand
Bunthan turned on his laptop and breathed a sigh of relief as he read Acton’s reply to last night’s message. He barely knew the man, though his father was friends with him, or at least acquaintances. Acton and his friend, Gregory Milton, had attended his graduation, and both had followed his academic career over the years, and he had followed theirs, especially Acton, who was now fairly famous in the small community of archaeologists.
He was also rich. According to his father, Acton had married money. Huge money. One of the reasons he and his wife were so popular, was that they were extremely generous when it came to funding other projects. According to his father, they traveled by private jet, could be anywhere in the world in a day or two, and provided their own private security to dig sites around the world.
Acton was exactly what he needed.
The moment he showed the artifact to him, he was certain Acton would recognize the problem and would agree to transport it safely to the university in Bangkok. Once there, it would be secure, and there should be nothing else to worry about from the local criminal element.
But his arrival was three days away. The entire camp was abuzz with excitement over the discovery, and he had given strict instructions that no one was to mention it to anyone. No texts, no emails, no social media posts, no photographs. It was too dangerous. He was certain they understood the danger, and the fact every time a motorcycle echoed in the distance put them all on edge, reaffirmed his belief.
Yet it only took one slip-up.
Too many young people today were obsessed with fame. Today you didn’t need to be talented to be famous. Before the Internet, you had to be a gifted singer, actor, or artist of some type, to be famous. Now, you just needed a big ass and a willingness to show under-boob while doing a stupid dance to become famous. Today, too many people were famous for being famous. They had no talent.
And he had young men and women here with him that were social media obsessed, some with a following in the tens of thousands just because of the posts they made at the dig sites. He had never minded it in the past, since any attention drawn to the underfunded field, especially in Thailand, would be welcome.
But not when it could put lives at risk.
The jewels alone in the mask were worth millions, and someone like Zhao wouldn’t hesitate to kill for it. A mask like they had found could keep him and his men filthy with booze, drugs, and women for the rest of their lives. It would be irresistible if word were to leak.
He eyed the far side of the tent and the tarp covering the floor. He had taken the mask and put it inside a lockbox, then buried it under the floor, telling no one. When asked this morning where it was, he simply told everyone it had been put somewhere safe, and to forget about it.
In three days, Acton would be here with his private security team, and he would give him the mask to take away. In the meantime, everyone simply had to remain quiet, and act as if nothing had happened.
And he had to create a jar that at least had some semblance of jade, for when the students returned.
With Achara.
He leaned back in his chair and sighed, a smile spreading. She was perfect. Everything he could possibly want. She was intelligent, quick-witted, beautiful. Being with her was just…comfortable. After the incident with Zhao, things had calmed down, he had been embraced by her parents, and the rest of the evening had been fantastic. He had walked her home, and the lingering peck on his cheek she gave him had fired his dreams last night, and filled his stray thoughts today.
He was in love.
It was ridiculous to think such a thing. He barely knew her, yet she was all he could think of. She reminded him so much of his late wife, but she was her own woman. They had as many differences as similarities. He loved that she led a simple life and wasn’t obsessed with the trappings of modern society, but wasn’t scared of them either as she had been educated in the city. By the end of the night, they had spoken of what life would be like married to an archaeology professor that traveled the country, and she had sounded open to it.
Marriage.
He chuckled to himself. The very notion of thinking of such a thing so quickly was absurd. Yet here he was, picturing their wedding day, Achara stunning in her traditional dress, smiling at him with love
in her eyes.
He had wondered how someone so beautiful, so captivating, hadn’t already been snatched up by some lucky young man, and when he had asked, her mother had shouted the answer.
“She’s too picky!”
Achara explained that she found the men of her village too unsophisticated, too uneducated. She wanted intellectual stimulation in a relationship, which was what had attracted her to him.
“So, it wasn’t my good looks?”
She had laughed, her cheeks flushing as she looked away. “You’re cute too.”
A perfect night.
He would be seeing her again tonight, but before he left to see her, he had to fake an artifact well enough to not only fool schoolchildren, but one child’s drunken father.
A man who might just kill them all if he thought he was being tricked.
11 |
Royal Palace Ayutthaya, Ayutthaya Kingdom April 26, 1758
Thammathibet stormed down the wide hallway leading to his father’s bedchambers, rage gripping him as the conversation he had just had with Luang replayed over and over in his head. Before he had heard his father wanted Uthumphon to succeed him, he had little interest in the throne. It was a burden he had no desire to take on. However, once Luang had informed him that burden had been taken away from him in this unbelievable betrayal of both family and tradition, he had desired nothing more.
He wanted to be king.
If only to thwart his father’s dying wish.
And to prevent his younger brother from having power over him.
They had been good friends growing up, but as they got older, it had become clear that Uthumphon was Father’s favorite, but more horrifying, that Uthumphon was more capable. He was smarter, wittier, and far more versed with the inner workings of the kingdom. He spent his days at their father’s side, engrossed in all it took to run the realm.
He would make the better king.
But shouldn’t that be the eldest son’s decision?
If their father had expressed his concerns and asked him to abdicate to his younger brother immediately after becoming king, he might have considered it. In fact, he likely would have eagerly done so. After all, he didn’t want to be king, and it would avoid the humiliation he was about to suffer. Everyone in the kingdom would know he had been passed over because he was unworthy. His friends would snicker behind his back, women would find him less appealing, the common folk on the street would no longer cower in fear of what whim of his they might fall victim to.
He would be reduced to the laughingstock of the entire kingdom.
And that had to be stopped.
Two guards blocked his way. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but there are to be no visitors.”
Thammathibet glared at the massive man. “You have the power to block me today, but tomorrow, when I am king, I will have the power to have both your throats slit in front of your families. Let me in or face the consequences.”
Both men exchanged nervous glances then stepped aside. Thammathibet opened the door and barged into the room, slamming it shut behind him. His father jerked awake on the bed, his eyes flitting about, searching for the source of the noise when they settled on Thammathibet.
“What are you doing here?”
“I think we have something to discuss, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your plan to name Uthumphon king, and not me.”
His father frowned. “How did you find out about that?”
“I have friends.”
His father grunted. “None that would be privy to that information. Luang told you.” He muttered a curse. “I knew the old man was too bound by tradition to heed my wishes.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. He intends to make Uthumphon king, just as you asked, but he felt I should be informed so I could perhaps persuade you to change your mind.”
His father’s eyebrows rose. “Change my mind? Why would I want to do that? And a better question, why do you care? You’ve never shown any interest in being king. You’ve shirked your responsibilities from the day you came of age. I would think you’d be relieved that your brother will take on the responsibilities he has clearly shown he has an interest in. You can continue to live your life as you have been, enjoying all the wealth and power you’ve always had. Your brother will run the kingdom, and everyone will be better for it.” He eyed him. “This has nothing to do with wanting to be king, does it? You’re upset because you fear the humiliation you think my choice will bring you.”
Thammathibet threw his hands in the air. “Of course, I’m upset! How did you think I’d react? I’m to be king. It is tradition, and everyone expects it.”
“Even you?”
“Of course, even me.”
“Then why have you done nothing to show you’re worthy of the position. Being king is an honor, a duty. It is not simply a right. In this kingdom, the king must always be worthy. Fortunately, until now, he who would inherit has always been—”
“Worthy! I know, I know. And I’m not. But I was never given a chance. I never thought you were going to die so young.” Thammathibet growled. “This is nonsense! This is so unfair!”
“I’m the one dying before my time. I should think I’d be the one complaining it’s unfair.”
Thammathibet regarded his father as his chest heaved with indignation. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right, of course, Father.” He dropped on the edge of the bed. “I know we haven’t seen eye to eye much over the past several years, and I know I’m the one to blame. This is all my fault, not Uthumphon’s, and not yours. I’ve done this to myself. But once I heard I wasn’t to be king, I realized how much I wanted it. I think I can learn to do the job with the help of Uthumphon.”
“This isn’t a job where there is time to learn. You must be prepared to take over the moment I die. I’ve been begging you to meet with my advisors so you could be trained, but you have always refused. Your brother has never missed a session.”
Thammathibet closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. “But the humiliation.”
“Will pass. After a few months, no one will remember, and few will care regardless. Nothing will change in your life, and you know your brother, he will never lord his position over you. Your friends will forget about it, the women will still flock to you, and perhaps in time you will decide you want something more out of life. This is only a humiliation in your mind. You can tell your friends that you refused the throne because you wanted to enjoy life, not run a kingdom. They would probably respect you even more.”
Thammathibet mulled the idea for a moment. His father was right. He could tell the lie, and his brother would likely back it. It would save him the humiliation, and he’d be a hero in his friends’ eyes—the man who would be king, who refused the position so he could enjoy life instead.
It was brilliant.
But there was a better plan, that wouldn’t require lying.
“You’ve always said lying is sinful, and while I haven’t practiced what you have preached, I do agree. I believe I have a better solution.”
“And what’s that?”
“Make me king, then I will immediately abdicate my throne to Uthumphon. That way no one has to lie, tradition is upheld, and you still get what you want.”
His father regarded him, his lips pursed as he debated the proposal. It was a good idea, and he was certain his father realized it. It was the only way he could see to save face and avoid the responsibilities that came with sitting on the throne. He did like his father’s idea of lying to his friends and telling them he had refused the throne. He would be the hero, though for how long? This lifestyle would eventually become tiresome, and he would want to take a wife and have a family. And what would he say when his children asked him why he wasn’t king? Would he tell them that he had turned down the throne because he wanted to party with his friends?
He suppressed a frown. If he were to think of the future, he couldn’t refuse the throne if offered. It would be a humiliation for his children yet to be born. And would they lose their right to inherit? This break with tradition had only ever been done in the past when there was no obvious heir. But in this case, it should be him, then his eldest son. His brother should only inherit if there was no male heir. But if his brother became king, would it be his eldest son that next became king, and not his own?