Page 44 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest
Linlin headed for the premium table at the corner end of the bar, set her pack down, and grabbed a seat. Murph pulled off his pack and fell into the chair next to her just as the bartender approached with menus.
“Something to drink before you order?”
“A couple of Singhas,” Murph said. He turned to Linlin. “Beer still okay with you?”
“Sounds great.”
“Be right back.”
Murph waited for the bartender to get out of earshot. He leaned in close and whispered, “So what’s this ‘I don’t want to die’ stuff all about?”
“It’s a long story, and I’m sorry I’ve pulled you into it.”
“No problem.”
“Of course it is. You haven’t heard from me in years and now suddenly I’ve dragged you halfway around the world.”
“How do you know where I came from?”
“I assume anywhere you came from is at least half a world away from this faraway place.”
Murph chuckled. “Yeah, and then some.”
“And I never stayed in touch. I’m very sorry about that. I left suddenly, my parents got sick, and I just…” Her voice drifted off.
“How are your parents?”
Linlin dropped her gaze to her lap.
“They both passed.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was a bad time. I just, well. I’m just sorry things worked out the way they did.”
“I get it.”
“And you? How have you been?”
“Great. But we’re not here to talk about me. What’s going on?”
Before Linlin could answer, the bartender was back with a couple of cold bottles of beer and glasses. He poured them at the table.
“Decide on dinner yet?”
“Couple of the house specials,” Mark said. “Extra-spicy.”
The bartender grinned. “You sure about that?”
Murph glanced at Linlin. She smiled.
“Yup.”
The barkeep finished his pours. “Two specials, extra-spicy. Coming right up.”
Murph watched him disappear through the swinging kitchen doors shouting orders in Thai, then swept the room with his peripheral vision the way Eddie Seng had taught him, taking everything in but not being too obvious.
The other tables were occupied by locals. Three men sat together at one table with two women, and two men were at another several feet away. A husband and wife—judging by their whispering intimacy—sat farthest away. All were between thirty and fifty years of age. They were eating, talking, and laughing convivially. None carried weapons.
