one—before. It sucked. He just
wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could and hide in some dark corner.
“Go
home, Chris. Get some sleep, take the morning off and come back in after lunch.
You’ll feel better, and I won’t be so cranky.” Morrison gave him a smile, which
had its intended effect, reassuring Leroux he was still in his boss’ good
books.
“Good
night, sir.”
“Good
night, Chris.”
Leroux
stepped out of the office and closed the door quietly. As he strode back to his
desk, his mind raced as to what to do. There were innocent lives involved here,
and he knew this was bigger than what the FBI thought. In fact, chatter had it the
case was officially on the back burner, the lead investigator assuming they had
faked their deaths and disappeared with their families for some unknown reason.
He
shoved his arms into his jacket and sighed.
What
am I going to do?
He
couldn’t keep up the rogue operation behind his boss’ back, that might get him
fired no matter how much goodwill he may have built up over the years.
Then he
smiled.
There was a solution to his problem.
Kane!
Impiana Private Villas Kata Noi, Phuket,Thailand
Dylan Kane woke with a start, and immediately regretted it. His head
pounded as if an ensemble of Japanese Taiko drummers were rehearsing in his
skull. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and every inch of his body
was exhausted and sore. Something had woken him. Early.
It
needed to be killed.
A
vibration to his right provided the answer. His phone. He’d roll over but that
would mean disturbing Chailai, who lay curled up under his arm, her head
resting on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest.
It had
been a wild night. A night worthy of remembrance, but which was more of a blur
than anything else. Somebody stirred on his left. He looked over and saw the
top of a head he didn’t recognize, mirroring Chailai.
Very
worthy of remembrance.
A
Budweiser sat in a bucket of nearly melted ice, within sight, but not reach. He
wanted it. His thirst demanded to be quenched. He lay his throbbing head back
down, and closed his eyes.
Why
do you do this to yourself?
Sure, it
was always fun, especially in Thailand, one of his favorite places to get away
from the pressures of the job. But it was the drinking that killed him. While
on the job, he never touched more than his cover demanded, but while off, he
seemed to drown himself like there might be no tomorrow, then partake of all
the carnal pleasures available to him.
He felt
the warmth of the two ladies he was now sharing his bed with, and regretted the
amount he had drank the night before. Partying with two beautiful ladies,
especially Chailai, deserved to be remembered, but all that flashed through the
fog were glimpses of a wild night on the town reminiscent of a Hangover movie.
Just no
monkey.
That he
could remember.
He
opened his eyes and looked at the beer. It beckoned to him like a siren, a
temptress urging him toward his doom, the two ladies pinning his arms making
him feel like Odysseus tied to the mast of his ship. He again lowered his head
into the soft down-filled pillow, and closed his eyes. A little hair of the dog
was what he needed right now, but it was exactly what he didn’t need.
He
needed to stop drinking.
He
grunted, and Chailai moaned. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, and she
squirmed with pleasure, her naked skin rubbing on his as she shifted slightly.
There are perks to this lifestyle.
He was
paid well, and his cover afforded him pretty much the best of everything when
on the job, if that’s what it called for. More often than not he was in some
shithole with a six inch fan to keep him cool where the term running water
meant there was a boy who would fetch a bucket “real quick like”.
But when
he was off duty?
The sky
was the limit. He didn’t save for retirement; he didn’t expect to see it. He
had no wife, no kids; his parents were well off so didn’t
wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could and hide in some dark corner.
“Go
home, Chris. Get some sleep, take the morning off and come back in after lunch.
You’ll feel better, and I won’t be so cranky.” Morrison gave him a smile, which
had its intended effect, reassuring Leroux he was still in his boss’ good
books.
“Good
night, sir.”
“Good
night, Chris.”
Leroux
stepped out of the office and closed the door quietly. As he strode back to his
desk, his mind raced as to what to do. There were innocent lives involved here,
and he knew this was bigger than what the FBI thought. In fact, chatter had it the
case was officially on the back burner, the lead investigator assuming they had
faked their deaths and disappeared with their families for some unknown reason.
He
shoved his arms into his jacket and sighed.
What
am I going to do?
He
couldn’t keep up the rogue operation behind his boss’ back, that might get him
fired no matter how much goodwill he may have built up over the years.
Then he
smiled.
There was a solution to his problem.
Kane!
Impiana Private Villas Kata Noi, Phuket,Thailand
Dylan Kane woke with a start, and immediately regretted it. His head
pounded as if an ensemble of Japanese Taiko drummers were rehearsing in his
skull. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and every inch of his body
was exhausted and sore. Something had woken him. Early.
It
needed to be killed.
A
vibration to his right provided the answer. His phone. He’d roll over but that
would mean disturbing Chailai, who lay curled up under his arm, her head
resting on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest.
It had
been a wild night. A night worthy of remembrance, but which was more of a blur
than anything else. Somebody stirred on his left. He looked over and saw the
top of a head he didn’t recognize, mirroring Chailai.
Very
worthy of remembrance.
A
Budweiser sat in a bucket of nearly melted ice, within sight, but not reach. He
wanted it. His thirst demanded to be quenched. He lay his throbbing head back
down, and closed his eyes.
Why
do you do this to yourself?
Sure, it
was always fun, especially in Thailand, one of his favorite places to get away
from the pressures of the job. But it was the drinking that killed him. While
on the job, he never touched more than his cover demanded, but while off, he
seemed to drown himself like there might be no tomorrow, then partake of all
the carnal pleasures available to him.
He felt
the warmth of the two ladies he was now sharing his bed with, and regretted the
amount he had drank the night before. Partying with two beautiful ladies,
especially Chailai, deserved to be remembered, but all that flashed through the
fog were glimpses of a wild night on the town reminiscent of a Hangover movie.
Just no
monkey.
That he
could remember.
He
opened his eyes and looked at the beer. It beckoned to him like a siren, a
temptress urging him toward his doom, the two ladies pinning his arms making
him feel like Odysseus tied to the mast of his ship. He again lowered his head
into the soft down-filled pillow, and closed his eyes. A little hair of the dog
was what he needed right now, but it was exactly what he didn’t need.
He
needed to stop drinking.
He
grunted, and Chailai moaned. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, and she
squirmed with pleasure, her naked skin rubbing on his as she shifted slightly.
There are perks to this lifestyle.
He was
paid well, and his cover afforded him pretty much the best of everything when
on the job, if that’s what it called for. More often than not he was in some
shithole with a six inch fan to keep him cool where the term running water
meant there was a boy who would fetch a bucket “real quick like”.
But when
he was off duty?
The sky
was the limit. He didn’t save for retirement; he didn’t expect to see it. He
had no wife, no kids; his parents were well off so didn’t
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