They had spent hours walking without saying a word to one another; finally Lee gave the order to stop and set up camp for the night. It would take another day walking in this terrain to get to their destination. He lowered his weary body to the ground rethinking his decision to not take the Flying Sub closer, but he didn't want to alert anyone to his presence too early and have Chip pay the price; success of the mission was paramount.
Davenport radioed FS1 and scheduled the next check in for tomorrow night. He had successfully managed to take the first watch and settled down next to a tree while the Captain got his four hours of sleep.
Like clockwork Lee awoke when his watch was due to start. He waited until he felt Davenport was asleep then quietly took off into the night. No one was going to slow him down and no one else was going to get hurt because of him. He figured the XO disliked him enough that he would do his duty and return to FS1 to report to the Admiral directly that he had 'lost' the Captain and by the time Nelson sent backup it would all be over; one way or another.
Crane was wrong; the second he heard Lee take off on his own, Lyndon gathered his gear and went after the wayward Captain. He managed to catch up with Crane in a matter of minutes. The sun was just starting to peek over the distant hills and the sky was replacing its dark navy color with a light pink glow. Davenport could make out the stalking form of his fellow crewman up ahead and proceeded forward. Not wanting to end up on the wrong end of Crane's gun the new exec decided to let his presence be known.
"So you were just going to leave me there?"
Lee flinched as the silence was broken. Damn how did he manage to sneak up like that? "It's for the best if you stay behind. I can do this faster and better on my own!"
Lyndon immediately went on the offensive at Crane's acidic tone. "Blow it out your ass Crane; leaving me in the jungle is not what's best."
This wasn't the time and hardly the place for an argument to break out but something snapped in Lee and he could see that the XO wasn't going to go quietly. All his years of training and experience went out the window; the stress and pressure over the last few weeks needed to be released, and apparently this was the moment it was going to happen.
"Alright, I don't want to have to babysit you! I have more important things to do."
"The only person who's doing any babysitting around here is me."
"Situations like this are out of your league little boy; you should leave it to the professionals."
"Ya and who are they? After what I've seen of you so far, everything I've heard about you has to be a complete fabrication. And what would you know about what I'm capable of? You've spent the last week being a complete ass."
"I'm trying to do you a favor here. Now go back and wait for me at the Flying Sub."
"Ya, cause I really want to show up and face the men without their gallant Captain. I've got news for you; you're not the only person who's lost somebody."
Crane's reply was silenced by the clicking of weapons. Suddenly the pair were surrounded by several armed men; an assortment of rifles and small arms were pointed at both their heads. One man appeared to be in charge was yelling at the pair in a language that Crane could only assume was Chinese.
Taking in the situation, Lyndon leaned slightly towards Lee and whispered, "Don't do me any more favors when they turn out like this." He raised his hands in surrender and replied to the group in their native tongue. Turning to Crane he said, "They told us to surrender, so raise your hands."
"And what did you tell them?"
"Not to shoot."
"You speak Chinese?"
"They're speaking Vietnamese. And for the record, no one speaks Chinese; it's Mandarin or Cantonese."
Lee rolled his eyes, "Now would be the time to set the record straight on that."
Lee followed Davenport's action and one of the armed men began frisking the pair for any weapons or useful items.
From further back a voice sounded in English but with an accent. "Well if it isn't my favorite American."
"I change my mind, you can go ahead and shoot," muttered Lyndon.
A smaller man dressed in a dark green jacket and black pants walked towards Lyndon with a huge smile on his face. The other armed men moved behind their prisoners so their leader could get a good look at both men; paying very little attention to Crane the man seemed to focus on Davenport with familiarity.
"Look at you my friend! All grown up and an officer no less; I think your daddy must be real proud of you."
"Of all the things my father would be proud of, his half breed children are not among them. What are you doing here Lao Máfan?"
Máfan turned to Crane with a big smile and pointed towards Lyndon with his thumb. "This is the genuine article here. A real American Indian." Turning back to Davenport he continued, "I not forgotten your brother promised to show me traditional native ways. We were going to build a teepee and a totem pole then go hunt the buffalo."
The exec did very little to hide his irritation for the man before him. "I don't even know where to start with the inaccuracies in that stereotype; any arrangements you have with my brother are between the two of you."
"Your brother; there's a subject near and dear. Your brother ripped me off $10 000; maybe I take restitution out on you and your friend?"
This turn of events was definitely not anything Lee would have predicted. Here he was trying to rescue his friend and now he was being held by some guy in enemy territory, who seemed to be very familiar with his first officer. Lately, when things went bad, they really seemed to go the whole way.
"Hey, even idiots get lucky sometimes Lao; besides ten K is what you probably make in an hour, so don't tell me your beef has to do with money."
"I no lose it in card game; he steel my drugs. Someone going to pay and since I find you, I choose you. Now move."
The armed lackeys shoved the prisoners forward and the group proceeded to march through the jungle. Máfan led the way and Crane and Davenport were placed in the middle of the single-file line.
They marched over a rough but worn path for two hours before reaching the groups camp. It wasn't much, mostly a bunch of huts with livestock running around; it certainly wasn't a base of operations for the area. Judging by the basic supplies and equipment these couldn't be the men who were testing the sensor. Lee was so close to the coordinates but this current situation placed him so far away from his goal.
He was placed in a wooden cage along with Lyndon and the men seemed to disperse through the camp. The two were left alone in their captivity.
"Care to explain what's going on?" demanded the Captain.
Lyndon shrugged as he lowered himself to the ground. "I had an interesting childhood."
"mmm-hm, and that guy?"
"Lao? He's a short guy with a Napoleon complex. He's a drug and arms smuggler; mostly works as the middle man between the People's Republic and the rest of the world. Has a penchant for shady things."
"Is that where you come in?"
"Ya Crane, that's where I come in."
"Well what am I supposed to think?"
Lee swatted at a mosquito as Lyndon let out a sigh. It took a few moments but eventually he started to explain things.
"My father was an ambassador for the area; we'd come and live with him for half the year. Let's just say he's not going to win any parent of the year awards. Instead of staying with our tutor my brother and I would check out the cities. I was eight, he was fourteen and I worshipped the ground he walked on. Naturally if Landon went to a party so did I, he did drugs, so did I. We came over here to a land where they were easier to obtain and naturally . . ."
"You were doing drugs when you were eight?"
"Among other things. " Davenport ignored the look his commanding officer was giving him as he continued, "Loa had the drugs and my brother had a horrible ability to lose at poker; it was a match made in heaven. No one was going to touch Loa if he was around an ambassador's kids, for fear we'd be collateral damage and start an international incident; that meant Lao could get away with a lot of things. Once Landon was in debt beyond repayment, Loa had someone he could get to do favors; my brother still deals with Lao."
"What about you?"
"I was very good at poker and was constantly trying to clean up my brother's debt; at one point my rolodex read as a who's who of Asian war criminals. At fourteen my mother left my father and us; then my father ditched us back in the states and left us to our own devices. Long story short, I cleaned up, Landon didn't and he and I haven't spoken since; unless he needs money. But I don't count leaving me drunken messages on my answering machine as talking."
"And what was all that about teepees and totem poles?"
"My father's all-American but my mother's Cree. It's a constant sore spot for my father; what with having children that aren't one-hundred percent white, despite the fact that based on looks you can't really tell. Lao's quite taken with this idea of the 'Nobel Indian' and thinks it's Innate to be able to all the things he's read about."
Their conversation was interrupted as Lao sauntered over to the cage; a big fake smile plastered on his face. His lackeys stayed back by the hut he had just emerged from but all eyes were glued on the captives.
"I want to make things interesting. We will play game and if I win, you two have to suffer your brother's debt."
Lyndon rolled his eyes, "and if one of us wins?"
"I let you go."
"Let's be real Loa, you're going to let us go anyways; the only question is in what condition. If one of us wins, we get information."
"What are you doing?" hissed Lee who was standing beside Davenport in the cage.
"Give me a moment to confer with my colleague," said Lyndon as he grabbed Crane by the arm and turned him so they both faced away from Máfan. "It's a game. He gets nothing out of killing us and everything by having us in his debt. More importantly he will know what's been going on in the area, and any buzz about trying to off load the computer program on the black market. Now, how are you at cards?"
Before Crane had a chance to voice his input, Lyndon was once again engaging in negotiations with their captor. Lee didn't know what to make of his new first officer; his instincts were screaming set up and not to trust Davenport, but without any other options all he could do was let Lyndon lead and see where they ended up.
"Let's play cards," suggested the exec.
"No, you cheat at cards; we play Pai Gow with flare."
The prisoners were escorted into one of the huts and seated at a small table; Máfan and one of his men sat on one side and the Seaview officers on the other. Loa explained the rules and his new twist to those present. He had marked a tile with a deep gash across it and designated it the death tile; if a player had the tile in their hand at the end of the game; then they would lose regardless of their hand.
Lao shuffled the tiles and asked Lyndon to shuffle them again to keep things fair, and then he had Lee and his man do the same; the tiles came back to Loa and he distributed them amongst the players. Lao's man revealed his hand; followed by Lee, who didn't it. All eyes turned to Lyndon who flipped his tiles over exposing the highest hand.
With a smug look he stared at Lao. "Well?"
The two opponents stared at each other for a while. Finally a smile curled Máfan's lips and he swiped his tiles off of the table; they clinked together as scattered across the floor.
"Well played my friend." Lao proceeded to give orders to his guards who were lurking just outside the hut door in his native tongue. "These men will take you to get something to eat and drink, then we'll have small talk."
As they followed the guards the Captain quietly asked, "what was all that about?"
"He's a sore loser and he knows I cheated."
Lee stared at Lyndon; the unasked question written all over his face.
"He cheated first. He purposely dealt me the death tile and I palmed it and switched it with the other tile I palmed when he had me shuffle."
"But if he knows you cheated, why aren't we feeling his wrath right now?"
The XO chuckled and waited until the guards left the hut they had entered. There were dishes of rice and vegetables sitting on a small table along with cups of water; Lyndon sat down and grabbed a pair of chopsticks.
"The only way he could call me on cheating would be to know that I had the death tile; the only way to know that it had been dealt out and that I specifically had it would be to admit he cheated first."
As they sat down and ate their meal Máfan entered the hut alone; he sat down at the table and propped his feet on top near Lyndon's bowl.
"What you want to know?" Lao asked.
Davenport nodded towards the Captain and Lao turned his gaze to him instead.
Crane passed over a piece of paper with the coordinates on it. "We're looking for a research lab near these coordinates."
Máfan looked at the paper and shook his head. "Not research lab, mansion."
"There's a mansion at those coordinates?" questioned Lyndon.
"Russian spy working for the People's Republic bought land here and built family home years ago; he and English wife live there with children. Children grown up now, older than me. Place pretty much abandoned except for staff that work there. Until few months ago anyway; lots activity but died down now."
"Do you know who owns the place now?" asked Crane. He could feel his excitement building at the possibility of finally getting some answers about his mystery nemesis.
"Two brothers, Kozlov is family name. Last I hear - one brother is in prison."
"Can you take us there?" Lee was sitting on the edge of his seat; he was so close now.
Lao pondered the question for a few minutes. He weighed his options and the consequences of sticking his nose in matters that did not concern him; however the Davenport brothers had always made his life interesting to say the least, and it never hurt to have someone in your debt.
"I can take you there."