Read Online Slash and Burn by Colin Cotterill - Free Book Online Page A

pocket of Hmong resistance at the Phu Bia mountain. While the Americans slept soundly in their beds, their discarded allies fought for their lives. The sound was the only sign that dawn had officially cracked. The knocking continued.
    “Go away,” said Siri, both to the hangover and the unwanted visitor.
    “That rice whiskey…?” said Daeng with a voice like a shovel through pebbles.
    “I forgot to mention the day after,” Siri confessed.
    “I feel like….”
    “Me too.”
    “Was that a knock at the door or my eyelids banging together?”
    Siri shuddered as he left the warmth of the quilt and quick-stepped across the cold floor to the door. Peach stood in the doorway with a massive smile on her face.
    “Morning, Doctor,” she said brightly and slid past Siri into the room. “I was gonna bring you doughnuts and coffee but the nearest deli’s nine hundred kilometers away.”
    Daeng peered over the quilt.
    “How on earth can you be this jolly?” she asked. “You were paralytic last night.”
    “I have a missionary’s constitution. We get back on our feet really fast.”
    “Do you … er, remember anything about last night?” Siri asked.
    “Absolutely,” she smiled.
    “Oh, really?”
    “Yes. I remember taking a quick nap on your bed then waking up in my own. I guess showing off with fuel-injected rice whiskey isn’t such a smart idea. Who…?”
    “Me and the doctor,” said Daeng, unburdening herself of the bedcover.
    “Well, I appreciate it.”
    “All part of the service. To what do we owe this wake-up call?”
    “Orientation. Remember?” I told you I’d warn you what to expect at the start of each day? She opened her notebook. “OK, today will begin with the ‘Getting to know you’ breakfast at seven thirty. Once we all know each other we fly off to Long Cheng.”
    “Because?” Daeng asked.
    “I guess because that was the last place anyone saw Boyd Bowry alive.”
    “And they think they might have misplaced him in a cupboard somewhere?”
    “I doubt there are any cupboards left,” Siri said. “I get the impression there isn’t much remaining of the original outpost. Lost to mother nature and pillaging once the place was overrun, so they tell me.”
    “Maybe so,” said Peach, “but, for whatever reason, that’s where the surrounding villagers have been told to assemble with their war booty. You’ve heard the heavy artillery? It means we have to take a very circuitous route to avoid the hostilities. It should take over an hour to get to good old Spook City. The task force sets up a base camp there and we go through the stories and evidence until we get a plausible lead. Then we head off to investigate.”
    “I assume we’ll have a packed lunch?” asked Daeng, massaging her temples with her thumbs.
    “I don’t think we’ll need to worry about food on this entire trip, Madame Daeng,” Peach laughed. “The chopper that brought us here could barely lift off from the weight of the provisions. They had the team all squashed up at the front. ‘Leave not one can of spam behind’ was the call.”
    “And everyone on the list turned up?” Siri asked.
    “Pretty much. Senator Vogal and his secretary Miss Chin are on standby.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Well, it means he may not come. But they still needed to get official permission for the both of them, just in case.”
    “In case of what?”
    “Success. If we rescue the pilot or we find his remains, he’ll show his face up here. Right now he’s slumming it at the Oriental in Bangkok for the five days of the mission. If he gets news of a breakthrough, they’ll fly him in. He’ll pose for pictures, shake a lot of hands, give quotes to the press. There’ll be maximum exposure back home. Headlines. I doubt he’ll stay here overnight. They’ll fly him back to civilization the same day and he can go home. Job done.”
    “And why should he be involved at all?” Daeng asked.
    “Well, he’s big on the MIA lobby, for