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Kamal looked at his men, saw the trepidation, and said, “How about we just kill you right here? Leave you to be found by the maids?”

Kamal expected to see fear. Mr.Chin showed none. He said, “You can do that, but it won’t end well for you. I have powerful friends.”

“Friends from where? Who do you really work for?”

Mr.Chin simply said, “I work for a company that wants to make money. That’s it.”

Manjit said, “We can’t continue the mission. All the intel we got was the outside perimeter. We know the guard stations along the grounds, but we have no idea which room he’s in or anything else. They’ll be looking for us now. This is just stupid.”

Mr.Chin placed a briefcase on the table and said, “They aren’t looking for us. Yes, Sidak was caught, but the pocket litter I made him take worked. They’re chasing a number for ISI on his phone, and his employment address is tied to a Lashkar-e-Taiba man. They’ll be hunting down the wrong thread.”

Kamal snarled, “Thatpocket litteris what got him killed. If he’d have gone in as a Sikh, he’d still be alive. Still be working at the resort. Don’t act like that was some strategic genius. It’s what got him captured and killed. Yeah, it protects us now, but it’s a protection we wouldn’t have even needed.”

Mr.Chin took in the words, nodded his head, and said, “Yes, I see the point, but mine still remains valid. They’re looking for someone else. They aren’t looking for you. We can still do the operation.”

Chapter9

The wheels of our aircraft touched down, jarring me awake. I rubbed my eyes, raised the shade of my window, and saw a lush, tropical landscape, the sun glaringly bright.

I turned away, saw the rest of the team rising out of slumber, and said, “What time is it?”

Next to me, with two different books on India splayed open on her lap, Jennifer said, “Tena.m., Goa time.”

“What day?”

She smiled and said, “Tomorrow, for you.”

I hollered up to the cockpit, “What are we looking at here?”

I saw the copilot bend around and say, “Nothing much. Simple customs check. The tower said they were expecting us, so should be routine.”

Which meant we could do everything on the plane without leaving our seats. Sometimes it paid to have powerful people pave your way.

Knuckles came up to me and said, “So, what’s the play here?”

“Let the customs guys come through, get our hotel rooms, and find a rum and coke. Twenty-four hours of traveling has left me thirsty, and it’s got to be five o’clock somewhere.”

He laughed and said, “I meant weapons. We’re going to take asurveillance package, but given that last update, do you want to take weapons, or come back to the plane if we think we need them after an initial assessment of the grounds?”

Originally, we’d planned on providing security with our eyes only, simply providing early warning should we see anything amiss, acting like tourists who just happened to find a threat and letting the RAW security take over. At our layover in Ireland, we’d been given an update on the terrorist that RAW had captured: an attempt had been made to rescue him, leaving multiple RAW officers dead.

It hadn’t been successful, and the terrorist had been killed in the process, but the men who’d tried to do it had escaped and were in the wind. The only evidence that had turned up was a unique integrally suppressed Makarov pistol, something that your average Joe on the street couldn’t have procured—especially in India. It showed they had training and the backing of a state—in this case, given the evidence, probably the Pakistani ISI.

I turned to Jennifer. “What’s the distance between here and our hotel?”

She tapped on her tablet and said, “Looks like about thirty minutes, but it’s easy travel. No traffic time to worry about.”

“Yeah, well, that’s more than I want. We’ll take weapons. Concealed sidearms only.”

Knuckles nodded and the door opened. Two perfunctory customs officials entered and asked for our passports. One went through the paperwork while the other moseyed about the cabin, peering behind chairs and checking the galley. We answered all of their questions, Jennifer provided our cover documentation, signed by the government of India, and we were done. They didn’t even ask to see our luggage.

We watched them leave, and when they were clear, I said, “Okay, let’s download the kit and get out of here.”

I left them to it and went to talk to the pilots, who had the best job in the world. All they did was fly to some exotic place, then sit around a hotel waiting to fly somewhere else. The only thing that sucked was that they couldn’t booze it up because they never knew when they’d be called for action. In this case, I could give them at least two nights of fun.

I said, “We’re heading to the resort. You guys have a place near here?”

The captain said, “Yeah, right down the road. Hope it’s not a shithole.”