Out of Touch (30 page)

“I did nothing to your brain, only your body. I’ll free your hand enough for you to inject yourself. Do it now, and I’ll try to save you with us.”

Tom’s mouth opened, but Sarah cut him off. “Remember when I said that you should never rape a teek? Well, you shouldn’t betray one either.”

Tom’s arm became less rigid, and he injected himself.

Reggie stared in disbelief. What was going on here? Was Tom truly a double agent, trying to deliver Sarah to his handlers? Had he been communicating with the teeps closing in on them? Where were those people now?

Reggie whispered, “We need to reach the jeep fast. We don’t need him.”

“Without him, we’ll know nothing, and I said I’d try to save him. I can keep him immobilized and bear part of the weight if you carry him.” The whisper was Sarah’s voice, but he responded to it with military obedience.

They worked their way out toward the edge of the temple. Sarah padded ahead, listening and then peeking around each corner. Reggie followed, Tom slung over his shoulder like a corpse, no longer frozen, but bundled by Sarah’s teep so the arms and feet didn’t flop. The lightness of the load made Reggie think of hollow bones, like he was carry human-sized poultry, newly thawed but still shrink-wrapped.

A man in a white shirt sprang from a corner up ahead, firing a gun. But the gun spun to the side at the last moment. Its bullet, which turned out to be a dart, crashed across the wall beside them. Then their attacker froze, like unthawed human-size poultry, as they ran the other way.

Reggie carried the image of the frozen Chinese man in his clean white shirt as they raced back along the ancient corridors. The image weighed on him more than the bundle over his shoulder. Someone had just shot at them, and Sarah had “shot” back. Reggie’s mouth was open, and he didn’t know if it was just so he could breath.

He managed to stop when Sarah did, in an outer doorway, barely within sight of the jeep. Before he could run for it, the vehicle started roaring toward him.

“Throw Tom in the back, and we’ll head for Angkor Wat,” Sarah ordered.

As the jeep paused before them, Reggie did as he was told. He instinctively hunched over the wheel as his foot hit the accelerator, and sure enough a shot fired at them and hit the outer metal of the driver’s side door. There was only one shot, no knowing whether it was a dart or a bullet, but hopefully now they were out of range. Still, there was only one road leading away from Ta Prohm, and there could be an ambush or a roadblock ahead. Reggie told himself he was behind enemy lines and his cover was blown. Now he was authorized to use any means to escape.

Sarah must have imagined similar orders as they cleared the trees, because she told him, “Go for one of the helicopters by the main parking lot. We’ll never make it out on Cambodian roads.”

Driving maniacally along the dirt track, Reggie could see three helicopters. Two appeared to be private, one white and one gray. The third was orange and offered tourist flights. As Reggie brought the car in, the propeller on the orange one began to spin. A Cambodian man ran toward it yelling and shaking his arms. At the same time, Reggie noticed that a truck was following them, gaining on them, from the direction of Ta Prohm.

“Behind us, in a truck.”

Sarah turned. Reggie thought he heard two tires blow out on the truck as the propeller lost a little speed. When Sarah faced forward, the propeller sped up again.

“We could tell the pilot that Tom was shot by the people chasing us, ask him to fly us to Thailand,” Reggie said.

“Sure. Or offer him money. Or toss him out, and I’ll fly the thing myself.”

“Do you know how to fly a helicopter?”

“I’ve heard they’re a lot easier than they used to be. I always wanted to learn.”

Reggie skidded to a stop on the road beside the helipad. The tour man was now in his helicopter, staring at the controls and shaking his head. Two men were charging on foot from the broken down truck, but they weren’t going to make it in time.

Reggie lifted Tom from the back seat as if he were an injured friend, or more precisely, a friend injured by someone else. He scuttled behind Sarah to the helicopter operator. She was just beginning to tell the man their story when a shot was fired and hit the confused pilot in the head. This shot was definitely a bullet, not a dart.

Reggie pulled back behind solid metal. The shot had come through the far door, from one of the other helicopters. There was warm blood splattered all over Reggie’s face and shoulders, all over Tom who lay unconscious and slightly drooling in Reggie’s arms. For a moment, he thought his knees would buckle or his stomach heave. Then he saw Sarah, emanating wrath and staring straight through the doors of the tour helicopter in the direction of the assassin. He thought,
I’m a spy trying to escape with the most dangerous woman on Earth.
Regaining control of himself, Reggie realized there was no point in pretending.

With a screech of metal, Reggie saw the black helicopter’s propellers wrap down around its doors as the windows rolled themselves up. Whoever had fired shots from inside was not currently visible.

Sarah shoved the dead pilot from the tour helicopter and took his seat without hesitation. Reggie quickly heaved Tom into the backseat then buckled himself in front. The noise of the propeller forbid discussion as Sarah took hold of a long lever control to her left and positioned her feet by pedals on the floor. She glanced out at the two men approaching from the truck. They were just pulling guns that now flew from their hands. Sarah glanced back at the other two helicopters for just a moment. Then with a gulp like the cat eating the proverbial canary she gently pulled the long lever, made some slight move with her foot, and they rose above Angkor Wat.

The temple blazed in piercing sunlight against a scrubbed blue sky. The helicopter tilted and lurched unsteadily as they began to fly forward, about a hundred feet from the ground.

“They’re scrambling for the white helicopter,” Reggie shouted.

“I broke it. Don’t talk now.”

Sarah’s tone cut through the adrenaline rush of escape. Reggie could see how tense her shoulders were under a shirt abnormally soaked with sweat. He suddenly realized they could still die if she made a mistake in piloting.

Reaching back, he took the time to prop Tom up to a better position and buckle him in. Sitting there, limp and helpless, the body barely resembled the proud, theatrical man who had so affected them in Belize.

Reggie looked away, out the window, and saw they were flying above the same road that had brought them in from Thailand yesterday. There were no other aircraft in sight.

“Reggie,” Sarah shouted without looking sideways. They seemed to be moving forward smoothly, and her face looked intent, but calm. “Do you still have the card that government guy gave us? Wang Chantachai, or whatever his name was?”

Reggie realized he still had a fanny pack with his phone and a wallet in it. (His money and papers were under his clothes in a money belt, as usual.) Probably he hadn’t taken the card out of his wallet. On the first pass, he didn’t see it. He looked again without saying anything, and there it was.

“Got it.”

“See if your phone works. Someone should tell the Cambodians and Thais that we’re in this ‘copter. I’m heading back to Poipet where we crossed the border. I’d like to land in the open area there. If he’s got anyone who could advise me ahead of time on landing this thing, that might be good too.”

“Should I tell him Tom set us up and people might be chasing us?”

“Whatever, but we’re not supposed to say much on the phone.”

Reggie pulled out his PAD. It was claiming a marginal signal. Well, that would have to do. It was the best phone on the planet. He dialed the number from the card.

It rang. There was an unrecognizable greeting on the other end.

“I need to speak to Wang Chanthanasai,” Reggie shouted.

The reply was unintelligible.

“I need to speak to Wang Chanthanasai,” he tried again.

More mangled words, they sounded like angry English. Then they were disconnected. Reggie dialed the number again.

“Emergency! I need to speak to Wang Chanthanasai!”

“This is Wang.” The connection was bad, but Wang spoke each word loud and clear.

“This is Reggie Malone and Sarah Duncan. We are in a helicopter in Cambodia. Someone tried to capture Sarah. We need clearance to land in Poipet.”

There was a pause long enough for Reggie to worry he’d lost the connection. Then the words, “I can’t . . . How long . . .”

“We don’t know anything about helicopters. We just left Angkor Wat and are following the main road to Poipet. And we have someone with us you may want in custody.”

Reggie heard something harsh muttered in Thai, then, “I will call the border at Poipet, but this is . . . No more . . .”

“Is there anyone who can tell us how to land a helicopter?”

“What!”

Wang ranted for a moment, loud and clear. Then he personally gave instructions for landing, which Reggie relayed to Sarah, who seemed to at least know what “cyclic” and “collective” meant. By the time Reggie got off the phone, he was pretty happy with himself and the PAD.

He looked over at Sarah, and she looked more than happy. Bliss might best describe the vacant smile and quivering hands.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m flying!”

“Yes, I see that.”

“Reggie, I’d kind of read how to do this but—I had to teek the whole surface of the ‘copter. I’m touching it everywhere. I’m actually part of something that can fly.”

Reggie remembered dreams he’d had about flying. There was something very sensual about being able to steer oneself through the air. Watching Sarah, he felt like a voyeur.

“What’s it like?”

“Guiding a toy boat in a bathtub, with slight motion under water or the barest touch of a finger. God, I always wanted to learn to fly.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Once I knew what I could do,” there was a catch in Sarah’s voice, “I thought I might be too dangerous.”

There were tears in Sarah’s eyes now. Her euphoria seemed tinged with self-denial. Reggie imagined an angry Sarah flying over the countryside, setting fires to forests and buildings as she passed. How old had she been when she chose not to study flying? How much had she read to know the parts of a helicopter and how to get one off the ground in the first place?

“Someone else I’d worry about. You, I trust.” Reggie hoped he sounded reassuring. He thought he even believed himself, mostly, but Sarah gave no sign that she’d heard.

Over an hour passed in silence, Reggie watching out the window or watching Sarah enraptured with the feel of flight. But his first sighting of the border was like a bucket of cold water down his front. He thought he’d heard somewhere that landings were the hardest part of flying, or maybe Sarah’s early concerns had infected him. She still looked pretty happy, and Reggie kept silent so as not to break her concentration.

They began to slow and descend. With each dip the nose of the helicopter tipped up or tilted and things were a little rough. Luckily, there was nothing in front of them but clear, flat land. The border was surrounded by hard baked dirt without a single tree. Reggie tried not to tense, but by the time they finally approached the surface his fists were clenched on the seat and he pulled in like a turtle seeking his shell.

The ground lurched up. They were going to crash.

Then they were still, safe on the ground. Sarah released one hand, then the other. The propeller was still turning but the absence of motor noise was startlingly sudden. Sarah sank back in her chair and closed her eyes. Reggie unbuckled himself and looked at Tom, who was still oblivious. Then he waited.

Sarah still had her eyes closed when the propeller came to a complete stop and two Thai police officers began walking toward them. Reggie reached across to touch her hand. She opened her eyes and took a breath, but that was all.

The shorter of the two Thai officers reached the helicopter first and motioned for them to open a door. Reggie did so and stepped out to speak to him.

“Hello. You are Reginald Malone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“With Sarah Duncan and someone we may need to handcuff?”

“Yes, sir. Though the person you may need to handcuff is currently unconscious.”

The officer looked like he might not have understood that. After a moment of silence Reggie added, “He’s asleep, drugged.”

The officer nodded. “You have passport?”

Reggie carefully untucked his shirt and pulled his money belt up enough to retrieve the papers issued to him by the Thai government. The officer took them and looked toward Sarah. Reggie climbed back up and crouched beside Sarah who still looked rather dazed.

“You okay?”

“I probably shouldn’t do that again.”

“They need your papers.”

Sarah straightened up and pulled the papers out of her money belt. She handed them to Reggie and then glanced back at Tom. “Is he okay?”

“I think so. Still out cold.”

Sarah nodded and began to stretch. Reggie took her documents out to the officer.