Page 12 of Into the Gray Zone (Pike Logan #19)

Using one hand to steady himself in the shallow wooden boat, his other holding an old set of binoculars, Kamal said, “Varsha,

you want to look at anything else?”

In front of him at the bow, Varsha said, “No. I didn’t need to come out here in the first place.”

Kamal wasn’t surprised by the answer. A large, hairy man with dark skin and a bulbous head, Varsha was one of two men Mr.Chin

had provided, and true to Mr.Chin’s word, both of them were more muscle than brains. They rarely talked and offered nothing

to advance the planning, but both had a brooding aura of violence around them. Kamal suspected that they were into the drug

trade, especially after seeing the ease with which they’d moved around the town of Baga after nightfall. As if they’d been

there before and had no fear of any of the dark alleys outside the neon lights of Tito’s Lane.

Kamal was convinced they could execute whatever linear task he gave them, but they couldn’t act on their own or deal with

any unforeseen complications. They were muscle, pure and simple, and Kamal would need to remember that.

Kamal turned to the rear of the boat, saying, “Manjit, you?”

Working the outboard motor, Manjit said, “I’d really like to see how close we can get to the resort dock before those guards react.”

“Me too, but the risk is not worth the reward. No need to get them nervous before we attack. Tonight is probably going to

be the night.”

Last night Mr.Chin had brought over the two muscle heads and told them that the billionaire had eaten dinner on the outside

patio restaurant near the pool. The good news was they’d cleared out everyone else from the restaurant, claiming it was reserved

for a private party, so there was little worry about harming innocent bystanders, something Manjit was adamant about. The

bad news was they didn’t know if the billionaire would eat there again.

Manjit said, “I know, but what if I can’t get in? What if they’re alert enough to start shooting at me? What are you going

to do?”

“Don’t worry about that. For one, the guards aren’t armed. For another, they’ll be focused on the inside once we attack. They

won’t be looking for you because we’re going to be the biggest diversion on the planet,” Kamal said.

“You hope. I don’t like a plan based on hope.”

“Well, you’re getting the easy part. I’m not sure we can get through the grate to the drainage cut. That’ll be the end of

it if we can’t.”

The Grand Hyatt resort fronted about four hundred meters of shore, the hotel buildings set back about a hundred meters away

from the water, separated by expansive grounds full of paths, palm trees, and landscaping. The small rocky beach abutted a

five-foot seawall that rose to the grass above, and while there wasn’t a fence, there were abundant shrubs and flowers to

prevent a guest from falling over. The only route to the beach was a set of stairs from the dock about halfway down the seawall—the

same dock Manjit wanted to approach. Just beyond it to the south was the drainage cut they were planning to use for infiltration.

The one with the grate.

They had found a larger beach just north of the hotel grounds with plenty of small sailboats, kayaks, and windsurfers on the shore. Originally, Kamal had planned to land the boat there, leave Manjit behind, and skulk down the seawall for the mission, returning the same way—hopefully with the billionaire in tow. After finding the dock at the resort, Kamal had decided to split the mission: drop off at the beach, then call Manjit forward to the dock, escaping from there instead of trying to run back down the sand with a prisoner who would likely be fighting them the whole way. Worst case, they might be carrying him unconscious.

Manjit said, “What are you going to do if you can’t get through the grate?”

Kamal trained his binoculars on the cut, seeing a wrought-iron structure threaded with a chain and a simple padlock. He said,

“The only thing that will stop us is if it’s rusted shut. We should be good.”

He lowered the binos and said, “Let’s take it back to Baga. I’ve seen enough.”

Varsha said, “About time. I’m getting hungry.”

Kamal gave Manjit the side-eye at the comment, and Manjit hit the throttle, bringing the bow out of the water and causing

Varsha to grab for the gunwales. Kamal smiled but said nothing.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, as the outboard and wind made it impossible to talk without shouting. They went

around a rocky point, the top crowned by Fort Aguada, the bottom housing the jail where Sidak had died, and Kamal was happy

for the silence, not wanting to talk.

They reached a section of flatland, the sand stretching for kilometers, and cruised past multiple beaches, the surf shacks of each shuttered, waiting on the tourists yet to come. In another month, each of the beaches would be jammed with sunbathers and swimmers, but with monsoon season fading but still threatening, just a few beachcombers could be seen. Another plus for the mission.

Manjit cut the throttle and they motored into the section of shore known as Baga Beach, the small hamlet of Baga just beyond.

Kamal could see Tito’s Lane standing out as the beating heart of the town, the lane of bars and nightclubs dead-ending right

at the beach.

Manjit cruised into the shore, lifting the outboard as the surf grew shallow, the bow crunching into the sand a good four

feet from shore.

Kamal said, “Varsha, we’ll get this.”

Varsha leapt out of the bow, splashing into the ankle-deep water and trudging to shore without a word.

Manjit said, “Why’d you do that? This damn thing is heavy, and we could use his muscles. It’s not like he does much of anything

else.”

Kamal hopped out and steadied the bow, letting Manjit lash down the outboard. He said, “Because I wanted to talk to you alone,

before we get back to the room with the rest of the team.”

He waited until Manjit had finished and leapt into the water, then they both heaved the heavy wooden boat farther up to shore,

resting the bow in damp sand.

Manjit let go and said, “What’s up?”

“We’re going to have to do something about the Thugees.” Kamal used the nickname Manjit had given the two men Mr.Chin had

provided.

“What do you mean? You don’t think they’ll be with us?”

“No, I don’t. They’re only in this for the money. They’re not going to be too happy when we kill Mr.Chin and they lose their

paycheck.”

Kamal could see that Manjit wasn’t comfortable with the idea. He continued, “We can’t take the chance that they try to prevent

us from removing Mr.Chin and stealing his boat.”

“So you want to kill them too? I already told you I wasn’t good with killing any civilians on this mission, and this is pretty close. I know they’re not innocent, but it doesn’t mean I want to start slaughtering anyone who might stop us. We need to maintain our honor. For the cause.”

“I understand that. I don’t want to kill them either, but I don’t see a choice here.”

Manjit nodded, thinking, then said, “Mr.Chin has threatened us. He’s basically said we do this or we get tortured as terrorists

by RAW, so he has become an enemy. We don’t know if these two men are the enemy. Maybe we should broach what we’re trying

to do. Maybe they’ll join us. We could use the help.”

Kamal shook his head, saying, “If they don’t agree, they’ll immediately tell Mr.Chin. We’ll be done. We can’t take that risk.

They aren’t Sikhs and don’t care about our cause. In fact, they may want to harm us because we’re Sikhs. We’ve both seen that before.”

They walked in silence for a moment, entering Tito’s Lane, the nightclubs and bars closed and looking shabby in the sharp

light of day, each of them waiting for the sun to set before starting life again, when the neon lights would hide their scars.

Kamal said, “How about this? We don’t kill them. We just push them overboard within sight of the shore. Let them swim out.”

“They’ll be caught by the police looking for us.”

“So? That’ll help the mission, and we aren’t harming them. All they can do is lead the police to Mr.Chin, and after we reach

his boat, he’ll be dead.”

Mr.Chin had dictated that once they had successfully captured the billionaire, Thakkar, they were to rendezvous with him

just like they had on the Sidak rescue failure, but this is where Mr.Chin’s plan would end. Kamal intended to kill him, throw

him overboard, and then take Thakkar for exploitation in support of the Sikh cause.

Exactly what that exploitation would be was an open question. Kamal honestly hadn’t thought the endstate all the way through yet.

Manjit thought about it for a moment, then nodded, saying, “That would work. I can live with them swimming to shore.”

Kamal smiled and patted him on the back, saying, “Good, because I need your mind right for this. I’m sure Mr.Chin will call

tonight.”