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.“My sister, huh?” Shawn said, his voice almost lost in the surf.“What’s her name?”“Robin,” Mark said.He could see Shawn nod his head but it was too dark to read his expression.“She’s here now?” Shawn motioned to the row of bungalows.“Yeah.The hut next to mine.”More nodding.“So she came looking for me.”“She spotted you on CNN, some tsunami anniversary special.Your family thought you were dead.”Shawn sighed but said nothing.“Something else,” Mark said and waited until he saw Shawn’s head turn his way.“Pim’s with us.”“Oh shit,” Shawn said, rolling his head back to look straight up at the night sky.“I’m sure she’s excited to see you again, too,” Mark said.Shawn shook his head.“You don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on.”“I know that your sister paid me to find you and I did.How it plays out between you is none of my business.”“If Pim’s with you,” Shawn said, ignoring the comment, “then that means Jarin’s not far behind.”It was Mark’s turn to shake his head.“We lost them in Phuket.”Shawn laughed.“You think you lost him.”They fell silent again, Shawn looking up at the stars, Mark watching Shawn, planning how he’d do it, how he’d reach over, pull the man from the chair, clock him with a quick left, hold him down as he shouted for Robin and Pim, get it all over with.If he wanted to run off on his wife and sister, disappear, play dead, that was up to him.But before he’d go, Mark would see to it that he spent some quality time with his family.Mark focused on his breathing, slowing down, getting ready when Shawn looked at him.“I’m going to need your help.”Mark let the words hang in the air, sensing something different now.“Go on.”Shawn slid to the open stool between them, Mark watching him as he moved.“I need to meet with you tomorrow.Not here.There’s a little fishing village about three miles south of here, right on the beach.Come early.Don’t worry, I’ll see you.” Shawn was closer now and Mark could see his eyes.They were clear and alert, no sign of the drugs that were everywhere in Thailand.“What’s this about?”“You’ll just have to trust me till then.”Mark smiled.“Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.I’m here with some people you already lied to.Give me a reason to trust you.”“Put it this way.If we do this right, we don’t screw this up,” Shawn said, his eyes locked on Mark’s, “there’s a good chance we’ll all get off the island alive.”Chapter Twenty twoMark had been running for thirty minutes when he decided that it had to be something in his genes.The last time he had run it had been six months ago in Dahab, the time before that in southern Turkey, and before that it was either Beirut or Oman, whichever place he had met that girl from Osaka.There was no logic behind it, no cultural explanation, but when he saw a long, open stretch of ocean beach, he just started running.His hip would bother him later and he’d walk with a limp for the rest of the day, but there wasn’t much he could do.There was a beach and nobody on it so he had to run.In Phuket there were tanners every few yards and there was something about seeing all those leathery-brown topless retirees that counteracted the otherwise overwhelming urge to kick off his sandals, pick a direction and go.But here, when he stepped out of his bungalow, stretching the early morning stiffness out of his muscles, and saw all that empty sand, that was it.He ran close to the shoreline, staying to the wave-packed wet sand.It was easier than running in the deep dry sand and there was less chance he’d step on a buried beer bottle or rusty can.In the Corps he had run miles and miles every day, and when they were laid up in Saudi Arabia, bored out of their minds, waiting for the ball to drop, they’d run in the desert just for something to do, the sweat evaporating before it could wet their shirts.And he had run in Kuwait, too, but running was easy when you had somebody shooting at you.The beach narrowed as he ran south.There were a few stray bungalows on this section and no bars so few tourists made it this far.Ahead, he could see some long-tails pulled up on the sand and a handful of tin-roofed plywood huts, with kids and mangy dogs playing in the low surf.He spotted Shawn sitting alone under a stand of palm trees and angled toward him, slowing to a walk.“Admit it,” Shawn said as Mark stripped off his sweat-soaked tee shirt.“You didn’t think I’d be here.”“I had my doubts.”“What made you decide to trust me?”“Who said I do?”“Ouch.Okay, then, why’d you let me go last night?”“I didn’t.” Mark sat down in the shade, his shirt over his lap.He leaned back on his hands and looked out to the sea.“I followed you back here, watched you go in that crappy bungalow up there.” He pointed over Shawn’s head to the cluster of buildings up the beach.“You had a beer on the porch then went inside and fell asleep.”Shawn’s smile drooped [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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