More Than Paradise Part 9

Tubby nodded cheerfully. "I can go at it all night now."

Ash took a pa.s.s on congratulating him and watched the video. A professor droned on about nature's bounty and the quest for the holy grail of cancer research, the pill that's going to persuade the body to kill the bad cells, not the good ones. Finally, emerging from a glossy pool of computer-generated ocean, a range of misty mountains lled the screen and a dove swooped down into a lush jungle teeming with exotic animals and plants.

As this visual feast unfolded, a melli uous voice intoned, "The Sealy-Weiss Inst.i.tute. Bringing the knowledge of yesterday to the frontiers of tomorrow. Are you ready for the unexpected? Will you accept the challenge?"

"Is this their recruitment video?" Ash asked.

"Yeah, that's all they could give me."

Tubby sounded chagrined. He liked to receive glossy promotional DVDs from his clients. Since these were mostly oil and mining companies, the footage always showed pristine environments, mother animals romping with their babies, and caring executives talking about all the money they spent on protecting the planet for generations to come. Tubby would show a couple of these whenever he was conducting orientation sessions for new recruits so the guys understood they could hold their heads up. Nagle Global Diligence provided vital services to quality clients who were doing their bit to help the world. They were not mercenaries. They were military professionals providing advice and a.s.sistance to private business.

"And this Sealy-Weiss Inst.i.tute is the client?" Ash asked.

"In partners.h.i.+p with Belton Pharmaceuticals. You've heard of them, right?"

"Sure. Big players. Up there with P zer and Merck."

"Ka-ching, ka-ching." Tubby rubbed his fat ngers together.

"I'm thinking ahead, my darling. The Iraq war is today's big game but morale is getting to be an issue. The smart talent out there is looking to make a move into something safer and cleaner. I'm about providing an alternative."

* 88 *

Ash read between the lines. "You're getting too much heat from the mining crowd, so it's time to diversify the client base?"

"In a word, yes."

"Sounds reasonable." Now that Ash had established the source of her paycheck, she asked, "When? Where? And who?"

"Next week. Irian Jaya. Sixteen scientists looking for who the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l knows what in the Foja Mountains. They'll be up there for a couple of months, so we need supply drops, yovers, communications support. The usual."

"You want me to chopper these bozos into Kwerba, then nd the lake bed up west." She paused before musing aloud, "How many birds have gone down there? Double digits, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but none of those pilots could y like you." Tubby looked pleased with this silver-tongued accolade.

"Kiss my a.s.s," Ash said. "So, let's say we make it, and ght our way up the mountains for Christ knows how many miles in the pouring rain to build whatever observation platforms and c.r.a.p these crazies want.

Then what? My copilot heads back to the one-star luxury of Kwerba and gets s.h.i.+tfaced for the duration while my ride is disa.s.sembled by the kotekas and sold in parts to the f.u.c.king Indonesians?"

"That about sums it up." Tubby snickered.

"My end is fty?" Even a pain in the b.u.t.t part-time gig like this one would normally only net half of that. Ash gave Tubby a suspicious look.

He beamed sickly, like he'd just won a hot dog eating compet.i.tion.

"I'm being generous."

"Don't bulls.h.i.+t me."

"Okay, there's some ne print." He peered longingly at the women by the pool.

They had nally squeezed the air out of the beach ball and were reclining on loungers. Around them a squadron of mosquito zappers crackled. The women looked young, like only a few years ago they would have been in bed by now after drinking the hot chocolate their moms made. Ash wondered how they'd ended up doing what they did.

"What's the real deal?" she asked.

Tubby gave a theatrical sigh. "Well, see, we got a lead on the Roo.

Motherf.u.c.king sonofab.i.t.c.h is in there scaring the natives with the usual c.r.a.pola about resettlement and there's some talk about an attack on the scientists."

* 89 *

"Which makes the client unhappy," Ash concluded.

"They want him taken care of."

"I'm not an a.s.sa.s.sin," Ash reminded him. There was no way she would take the Roo out. She half liked the guy and he was good for business.

"No one's asking you to pull the b.l.o.o.d.y trigger. Just nd this idiot and bring him in. He's been yanking too many chains for too long and they've voted him off the f.u.c.king island, if you take my meaning."

"Jesus, Tubby. You're not going to clip the guy, are you?" She appealed to his baser instincts. "He's money in the bank. You mightn't give a s.h.i.+t about that, but I do."

He gave it a moment. Ash could see him processing the idea that one of his best pilots might not be happy missing out on the Roo bonus hereafter. What if that was the nal straw that sent her to Spicer's side of the fence?

"Okay, point taken," he said magnanimously. "We'll have a conversation."

Ash nished her whiskey. "Activists don't usually sell out. They have that conscience thing going on."

"Every man has his price."

"Here's the deal," Ash said. "If I bring him in, he walks out of here alive."

Tubby rolled his eyes. "If he signs on the dotted line, he'll walk out of here a rich man. The Indonesians want him gone. No questions asked. And as for our clients, I can write my own f.u.c.king check. He'll take the money."

"Like I said. No accidents, no faked suicide."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. All right. He walks. But if he shows his f.u.c.king kangaroo teeth around here again, I'm not responsible."

Ash stretched out her hand. "Fifty for the job and fty for bringing him in."

Tubby went through the motions of sucking his plump lips as if he hadn't antic.i.p.ated the signi cant counteroffer. Finally he shook hands.

"Like I said, every man has his price."

"I'm a woman."

Tubby grinned. "b.a.l.l.s are b.a.l.l.s. I don't care who's wearing them."

* 90 *

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Dr. Lascelles, I presume."

Charlotte spun around at the sound of a deep soft voice she knew immediately. "You!" She glared at the pilot they'd been waiting for since nine that morning.

"As luck would have it." Her one-time rescuer ashed some identi cation around the eld party. She looked like she'd slept in her clothes. "Good morning, folks. Ash Evans. Nagle Global Diligence."

The guys shook Ash's hand eagerly, as if they didn't notice anything wrong with her crumpled appearance and wandering speech.

Ash consulted the brooding sky. "Foja expedition, huh? You picked the right day for it."

She and the team proceeded to exchange comments on the weather and the importance of bug repellent for when the rain stopped and the mosquitoes smelled blood. She didn't look Charlotte's way once.

Simon Flight, a baby-faced British entomologist on the team to catalog b.u.t.ter ies, was the only one willing to draw attention to the pervasive aura of alcohol. "I say, old thing," he remarked with polite consternation. "A little early, isn't it?"

Ash slapped him on the shoulder. "No worries, pal. Round here, whiskey's a navigation aid."

Appalled, Charlotte said, "We are not ying anywhere with a drunk pilot."

"The lady makes an important point." Ash waved a hand in the direction of a lanky blond man loading supplies onto the helicopter parked nearby. "Which is why you will all be happy to know Klaus over there is ying us today. He needs to learn the West Papua routes."

"Wonderful, a newbie," Charlotte replied tartly.

* 91 *

Their team leader, Harvard professor Miles Hogan, touched her arm as if to rea.s.sure her. Addressing Ash, he said dryly, "Your pal is sober, right?"

"Klaus only does hallucinogens, and never on the job. He's South African. They're reliable about that type of thing." To prove her point, Ash called out, "Hey, Klaus. Are you straight, man?"

The South African yelled back, "I thought you'd never ask."

At least half the team found that hilarious. Apparently, they had been able to gure out right away that Ash was both female and probably a lesbian.

When they were done with their frat-house hooting, Miles gave Charlotte a patronizing smile and said, "You have nothing to worry about, Charlotte. Nagle are the best in the business. If you'd be more comfortable, we can delay the shuttle for an hour or two."

And have the entire eld party kicking their heels in the long, leaky shack that pa.s.sed for a hangar, because she was having a girly utter. Charlotte could tell her feminine presence was already a focus for some of the team. Delaying their travel would cement her unpopularity.

"There's no need for that," she said. "If you're satis ed, let's get going."

Ash was apparently sober enough to have noticed this exchange, because she immediately started sorting the eld party into smaller groups for the shuttle trips into Kwerba, the foothill village that was to be their staging area in the Sarmi regency. Today they would travel in with some ve hundred pounds of supplies. Tomorrow, they would begin their long trek into the uplands, a.s.suming they had a guide who could nd the way to their target zone. So far Charlotte was not impressed. She'd been told their logistical support was being handled by highly paid experts. If this was it, they were in trouble.

"Want to y with the rst group?" Miles offered. "Give you a chance to get yourself settled properly at base camp."

Like she would need any more time than a man. Irritated, Charlotte said, "I have a few notes to sort, so I don't mind waiting my turn."

"That's the spirit." He said it like he coached the special team and she was the one who would never hit the ball.

Charlotte produced a saccharine smile and he excused himself, claiming he needed to go check on the supplies being loaded.

* 92 *

Once he was out of earshot, Ash strolled over and said, with one of her shameless grins, "What an unexpected pleasure."

"It's not mutual."

"I'm wounded."

Charlotte lowered her voice. "Look, I know you think this is funny.

But I consider it highly unprofessional for you to have shown up here when you've been drinking."

"I tried to dump the job on someone else."

"Not on my account, I trust?"

"Your presence was not a factor. For the record, I had no idea the Dr. Zelda Lascelles on my doc.u.mentation was you."

"Zelda is my rst name. I a.s.sume they took that off my pa.s.sport when they did the paperwork. It happens all the time."

"And there I was, thinking you were getting the hang of things in PNG, using a fake name among strangers."

"Charlotte is my middle name. I've been using it since I was seven." She had no idea why she felt the need to explain herself. She wasn't sure if she felt chagrin or disappointment that Ash hadn't been expecting her. Did she want to think Ash had chosen the job after recognizing her name on the pa.s.senger list? How absurd.

Ash stepped farther inside the hangar and sat down on one of several rickety deck chairs arranged in a line beneath the tin roof.

Charlotte took the seat a couple down from her and they both stared out at the increasing rain. The other members of the team milled about as Klaus briefed pa.s.sengers for the rst shuttle.

"How was the Kokoda Trail?" Ash asked after a few moments of taut silence.

"Hard work. How was your week?"

"My sister died, so I had to go back home for a few days."

Shocked by the toneless reply and the horrible fact of her loss, Charlotte said, "I'm very sorry."

"s.h.i.+t happens."

The response would have seemed ippant but for the bitter edge.

Charlotte recalled Ash mentioning that she ew back to see her sister several times a year. They were close, she suspected, more so than Ash wanted to let on.