Page 43 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest
Max shook his head, contemplating the implications.
“Suddenly, a snipe hunt doesn’t sound so bad.”
24
Thailand
The brightly coloredsongthaew—a Toyota pickup truck fixed with two bench seats and a roof, like an open-air school bus—squealed to a halt.
Mark Murphy unspooled his long frame from his cramped seat, trying desperately not to step on any toes or bump his head against the metal roof as he made his way to the back of the truck. The ultra-polite locals all smiled and giggled as the gangly American finally exited with an awkward bounce of the shock absorbers. The truck beeped its horn and sputtered away, leaving Murph alone by the side of the sandy road, shouldering a small backpack.
He’d seen the blue waters of the Andaman Sea off and on as he’d made his way down the coast from Bangkok in the back of thesongthaew. But it was only after the chattering passengers, squawking chickens, and sputtering engine had departed that he could hear the gentle rush of waves brushing up into the fine sand a few hundred yards away. He smelled the salty tang of the sea and even the hint of pine. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The temperature wasn’t bad at this time of day, but a short downpour a few minutes ago had turned the humidity index up to infinity.
He glanced around and spotted a handwritten sign nailed to a palm tree that read in Thai and English “Sunset Bar” with an arrow pointing toward the beach. He didn’t bother to double-check his phone forinstructions. He’d read and reread Linlin’s follow-up coded text message a hundred times if he’d read it once, searching for an emotional subtext beneath the words, but found none. He knew he was in the right location, at least physically. Emotionally he felt adrift, like a ship without a rudder in a hard wind. He thought he’d gotten over the Asian beauty. But the closer he got to seeing her again, the more he realized he’d only buried his feelings all these years.
He had to play it cool.
He checked his watch. He’d timed his arrival perfectly.
Murph made his way through a patch of coconut palms. Closer to the beach the trees turned to pines. When he finally cleared the tree line he stood on a wide and nearly deserted stretch of golden-white sand. He was greeted by a spattering breeze and the fiery red orb of the sun plunging into the far horizon—real postcard stuff.
The lone structure on the beach was the proverbial thatched-roof surf bar. A couple of empty fishing skiffs were pulled up on the shore some hundred yards away. The setting sun threw long shadows across the sand as the notes of an acoustic guitar wavered in the air. As he plodded forward, he counted nine local patrons and noted the bartender behind the bar.
Murph bounded up the rickety steps. The handsome, well-built bartender smiled and nodded at him as he polished a glass. Murph looked around. There were two dozen tables, but only three were occupied. The best table in the house was wide-open, perched on the corner of the open-air restaurant with an unobstructed view of the sunset. Murph was concerned.
Where was Linlin?
He spun around to face the ocean.
And there she was. Her hair danced around her face, jostled by the wind. The last rays of the setting sun cast an ethereal glow behind her lithe figure, darkening her face.
The bar’s automated dusk-to-dawn lights popped on, lighting her up.
She smiled demurely.
Murph’s hands quavered as he finally managed a raspy “Linlin.”
“Hey, Shaggy.”
Murphy smiled. She once told him he looked a little like Scooby-Doo’s best friend. Shaggy was her pet name for him. Nobody ever called him that except for her.
Linlin stepped off the beach and onto the stairs. She was barefoot and her toes were caked with fine sand. Her shoes dangled from her overstuffed day pack.
“You made it,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. Murph’s heart raced as he pulled her close to his chest and felt her breathe a deep sigh of relief.
She glanced up into his face. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Are you kidding? Of course I came.”
She stood back a step and studied him, pinching his biceps.
“Wow, you’ve changed. You’re all buff now.”
Murph blushed. “Sort of a gym rat these days. You look pretty great yourself.” In fact, she looked bone-weary, he thought.
Linlin tucked a length of unwashed hair behind her ear. “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat and we can talk.”
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
