Free Lethal Redemption by Richter Watkins Page B

don’t know if you realize what the purpose of that plane was,” he said. “All that money, the golden elephant, it was going to be the means to launch a counter-insurgency that never got launched. Domini Canes .”
    “I’m not familiar with it,” Kiera said.
    “Few are,” McKean said. He shook his head and tapped the picture of the statue. “There was another woman, different place, different time. A woman who had a dream. In the dream a dog with a torch in its mouth leaps from her womb.”
    “Sounds like a very uncomfortable birth.”
    McKean smiled. “I’m sure. That torch then sets the world on fire. It so happens, that woman was the mother of the man who became known as Saint Dominic.”
    “ The Saint Dominic?”
    “Yes. He of the Dominicans. He got the name, because of that dream— Domini Canis , God’s Dog. Appropriate, as he was the guy who set about cleaning up the heretics all over the place. He famously said it was better to be the hammer than the anvil.”
    “And that’s relevant how?” Kiera asked.
    “Your grandfather’s associates. They liked to call their operatives Domini Canes , the hunting dogs of God. Gonna start the counter-revolution against the communists from Thailand. That was the plan. That plane carried the bank account that would set it up. It carried more than just the crown jewel that everyone has hunted for a long time. Porter says you got a map of the location. I’d love to see it.”
    Kiera took out a piece of paper, opened it and handed it to McKean. It was the hand drawn map with the coordinates and landmarks.
    “Well now…” McKean said with a shake of his head and another pull on his drink. He glanced at Porter. “Couldn’t be in a worse place, or a better place. Hard to get to, but the Hmong are living up there in caves and they can be of real help. Hell, all those former CIA-sponsored Hmong knew your grandfather. You’ll be some sort of time-travelling homecoming queen.” McKean laughed. “I’ll contact them by SAT phone. They may be isolated, but they stay in touch with people who can warn them if the government gets worked up and decides to drop in some troops.”
    Kiera said, “Would it be hard to find a landing strip up there?”
    “They can help with that.”
    “Porter said you know who’s chasing us.”
    “People I talked to while you were on your way tell me it’s a couple very active players. Frenchman named Besson who owns half the country. The other one is a former CIA operative named Cole. He’s from back in the day. Ran various hardcore programs. No doubt knew your grandfather.”
    McKean’s woman came out and said something. He went with her into the back room and a nasty argument ensued.
    Kiera put the map away and glanced at Porter. He shrugged. Apparently he was happy to let McKean do all the talking.
    When McKean walked back in the room he was talking on his satellite phone. He went out onto the small porch of the house, and then came back in.
    “That call came from friends of mine. We got company coming up the river. Not welcome company. Let’s dede. ”
    They grabbed their packs. Kiera put the diary and pictures back in plastic and into her backpack, then stuffed it inside the larger backpack McKean provided, and headed out a back door.
    McKean said, “We need to get the bird the hell up in the air fast.”
    As they left, McKean’s woman gave him a lot of grief, the sound of her bitter tirade continuing as they fled to the trees away from the river.
    Kiera followed the two men, wondering where an airfield could be out here, what kind of plane the man had, and if he was sober enough to fly. With every step her excitement was replaced by a healthy skepticism as the man she followed stumbled through the palm trees.
    “Is your wife going to be okay?” she yelled to McKean.
    “Hell, that woman’s tougher than they are. She’ll be okay. They don’t want her,” he yelled back over his shoulder, “They want you, my