Free Sea of Lies: An Espionage Thriller by Bradley West

burned shed.”
    “Plus the fresh tire marks on the runway, slathered over in white paint,” Ryder added. “And muddy wheel marks headed east toward the main gate you saw yesterday.”
    “So what does it all mean?”
    Hecker took first crack. “Zaw’s men will ask around, but a couple of them living to the south already said there have been in-and-out late-night flights at least once a week over the last month or more. We have ourselves a newly completed mystery runway with big jets landing and taking off. I think Teller is smuggling drugs on the side, outside Golden Elephant. If so, there has to be Army protection, too. Probably heroin and meth going out, and maybe arms coming back.”
    “Nah, that’s not happening under Myat Noe’s watch,” Ryder said. “No one in Golden Elephant takes a dump without that lady knowing.”
    “Can you tell me more about Myat Noe?”
    Ryder was happy to oblige him. “We’ve got a book on the family in-house. I read it when I arrived here almost two years ago. Opium King Khun Sa died in 2007, leaving behind eight children. Golden Elephant is his daughter Myat Noe’s company, operating in property, jade mining, cement and illegal casinos along the China border and the Yangon-Mandalay toll road. Add to that the Yangon-Chaungtha Expressway, though neither the government nor the company ever made an official announcement.”
    Hecker expanded on Ryder’s narrative. “Khun Sa was a very wealthy man when he died. He paid a billion dollars to stay out of jail and another billion to ensure his children went unmolested while they spent and invested the laundered leftovers. Myat Noe was the most successful. As a daughter, she probably started out with only a couple hundred million, which she’s easily tripled since her dad died almost seven years ago. The road construction’s halted and the workers are gone, but it’s not because Golden Elephant went broke.
    “Forget drugs, too. Khun Sa’s family is as clean as Snow White’s snatch these days. My best guess is that part of the junta is laying up its own personal arms supply just in case, or maybe ahead of the next coup. That explains the frequent flights and the reinforced concrete floor.”
    Nolan stayed silent. No one asked for his opinion, and he wasn’t certain he had one.
    They were now well beyond Einme. The threat of ambush receding, Ryder shed weapons, clothes and assorted paraphernalia. Hecker went through similar gyrations. Nolan was too tired to do anything other than hand his gun to Ryder.
    “Whoa, remember what I told you back at Club Avatar? There’s no safety on a Glock, so keep the chamber clear.” Ryder ejected a shell and put Bob’s gun behind him on the deck.
    “Sorry.” Nolan put his hat, spare magazine, flashlight and walkie-talkie into the back on the proper piles.
    Soon enough they were on the outskirts of Rangoon, crossing the river into the city proper. Nolan’s mouth still tasted of bile while his brain worked overtime.
    A phone vibrated. “Yes, it’s Hecker. What? Holy hell! OK, Dubern Park at 10 a.m. with the ambassador. Yes, I can explain some of it, but not all of it.” He turned around.
    “That was Clay Abrahams. Kyaw’s dead. Found disemboweled in his hospital bed. Whoever did it also cut out his tongue post-mortem. Kyaw’s wallet had ID in it, so the police called the embassy’s head of physical security and got Abrahams out of bed.”
    “Fuck. This guy’s on a rampage.” Ryder reached back, pulled a pistol off the rear deck and passed it up to Hecker. Next he re-holstered his own weapon. He looked at Nolan. “You want a Glock, too?”
    Nolan shook his head no. He closed his eyes as he thought about the threat to his children and wife. He tried every combination that might lead Teller to them. There wasn’t anything other than the wallet photos. Even their house was in Joanie’s name. And Teller would need time to organize a hit, or whatever he had in mind. He’d been busy enough