Many are the strange chances of the world,' said Mithrandir, 'and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter…– J.R.R. Tolkien

It was like leaving Meg at the top of the stairs, walking away when I knew what would happen next. – Jase, on leaving Dao in Bangkok

An unexpected clatter from the doorway of Dao's little hut wrenched Jase from his reverie and sent him hurtling toward the machete on the wall. Before he could reach it, Dao reprimanded him.

“It is my medicine man,” she assured him, a fact which did not ease Jase's mind to any great extent.

“You told me he was in China!” he accused.

“Well,” Dao seemed as innocent as possible. “I did not say when he would return. He's probably traveled all day to get here before bedtime. Don't worry. He will sleep next door.”

Through Jase's irritation, his reason comforted him, finding a benefit to the new turn of events. Jase needed to leave as quickly as possible, but he could under no circumstances take Dao with him. If he left her, however, she would be vulnerable to kidnapping by Perry or one of Bill's other thugs. Who could better protect his property than a drug dealer who held the entire community in his pocket by fear and intimidation?

A surprisingly diminutive head stuck through the door, and Jase would have guessed that its owner had passed no more than twenty-five years. Still, youth didn't guarantee innocence, as Jase well knew. If Jase didn’t feel confident that Dao would be safe, he would find another alternative; he wouldn't leave Dao alone with the drug lord.

The small man slithered into the room, his large black eyes darting around the cramped quarters in assessment.

“Have you brought me a customer?” the man oozed when he caught sight of Jase.

“Of sorts,” Jase answered for Dao lest she stumble and make herself vulnerable to reproach. “I'm wondering how much you want for the girl.”

“You are American,” the little rat purported after raking a disgusted look over Jase. “I thought you people didn't like that kind of thing.”

As he took in the look’s meaning, Jase's stomach knotted in nausea. Of course, he should have assumed that someone in drug trafficking would think the worst.

“Actually,” Jase corrected, “I just want to use her while I'm in town for some business dealings that I need to transact. I've noticed her to be quite adept at,” Jase paused for effect, “pilfering things.”

A knowing look replaced the sneer on the man's face. “Ah, for that, you must reimburse me generously.”

“I assure you. If you protect her while I am gone, and if she has not suffered at your or anyone else's hands when I return, I will more than recompense you for any lost work from her.”

Fortunately, Jase knew how far a little money would go in Thailand. He felt certain that the man would part with Dao entirely for very little.

“While you are gone?” the man begged.

“I have to visit the north of Thailand for a few days, but I cannot take her with me due to the sensitive nature of my business.”

“And I may use her when you are not in town?” the little lizard-like face queried, and Jase's own countenance melted into a frown. He hated to disclose much to the man, but the question presented an opportunity to secure Dao's safety even more.

“Well, there's a slight problem with that,” Jase hedged. “She helped me a little this afternoon, and some of my acquaintance have seen her. If they see her again, they will likely abduct her to get to me. I believe you will find it more lucrative to keep her here.”

After a pause and another assessing glare, the small man nodded his head. “But if I am to protect her, I require 10,000 American dollars.”

Jase silently sighed in relief finally, sure that he could pay the man's price. “I will give you that,” Jase agreed, “and the same again when I return, if you keep her safe.”

Losing the cool business demeanor, the man smiled obsequiously. “You have my assurance. I will protect her.”

“And you will withhold her from your or any other work until I return? That is what I require to give you the remaining fee.”

The man pursed his lips, obviously having hoped to find a loophole. “I will,” he agreed reluctantly.

Jase couldn’t help but worry that Perry would find them and offer more money for the girl. ProtoComm carried more resources than Jase could ever muster. “Dao will watch for the man who pursued her, and if she points him out to you, you must avoid him or kill him. The man will have no mercy on you.”

Though Jase felt a sliver of concern at a possible double-cross, the Thai drug-lord seemed fairly agreeable with Jase, and Jase did not have time to second-guess his current course.

The man nodded. “That should be no problem within my territory.”

“I would like to talk to her alone for a moment,” Jase demanded, and the little man withdrew immediately.

“I will come back for you, Dao,” Jase began once the smaller man sidled from the room. “You can't come to America with me, but I will find a way to get you out of this hole,” he insisted, nodding at the tin can that served as her home. “I'm sorry I have to leave you here, but where I'm going, the man who tried to take you is one of the nicer guys. I won't risk dragging you into that horrible place. They make your boss look like Mother Theresa.”

“The saint of the gutter. No, my boss is no saint - though he lives in the gutter,” she giggled, and Jase saw in those words a depth of understanding which defied her tender age.

“Yes, and I will get you out of the gutter. If I can't come back, I want you to call this number,” Jase insisted, handing her a piece of paper with Nessa's number. “This woman is kinder than I am by a hundredfold.”

“Not possible, mister,” the little girl assured him, not looking up from the paper.

Ignoring the sentiment, Jase handed her another piece of paper with Briel's number on it and Jase’s new number.

“Do you remember where you found me? Where the man told you to watch me?” Jase inquired.

“I do.”

“Take these numbers with you and give them to that man.” He probed further. “You remember what he looked like?”

“Of course. Like you, only taller and not so dark. He was pretty,” she grinned, and Jase smirked despite himself.

“Fine,” he allowed. “Tomorrow afternoon. I will tell your boss to accompany you there. After you meet my friend, come back here,” Jase commanded.

“Okay, mister. Don't get hurt,” she stated matter-of-factly before showing him to the door.

“Jao-khun,” she called out the door to her boss. “He will leave now.”

“Khaawr dtuaam gaawnl nah,” the man bowed respectfully. “I hope you a safe return.”

“Thank you,” Jase reciprocated to the man before touching Dao's face affectionately, if surreptitiously. He did not want the drug trafficker to attribute too much value to Dao, or the man would raise her price.

Turning away, Jase made his way out of the slum and back into the marketplace. He would call Nessa from the train. First stop, though, Ang San Park.

Within a few minutes, the concrete and metal gave way to lush greenery. Before he could discern any of the details, Jase noticed the most obvious landmark attached to the park, a giant reclining Buddha draped in yellow cloth. Just beyond the Buddha, Jase could make out several park benches among the trees, and to his right, a lavish clubhouse that catered to the relative wealth of the western clientele.

Jase hated waiting. Before he settled comfortably on a bench among some trees, he set an internal timer which would call an end to his intelligence gathering if he had found nothing of interest in the next three hours. He had his laptop out of his bag and made a quick search for a wifi signal: nothing.

For a moment, Jase pursed his lips in irritation, but he reconsidered after some thought. Sure, he had no access to the internet, but by the same token, no one had access to his computer either. For the first time in two weeks, Jase opened his laptop with full confidence in its security.

While he studied the map of Chiang Mai, he eavesdropped on some of the conversations of passersby.

“...because on Sunday the soccer game will not air...”

“No, you need to respect your father, not contradict him. That is why...”

“...because of the rebellion. What the king does not know...”

“Of course. You need to call and make reservations.”

Jase paused from his studies and glanced around him. For almost two hours, he had heard nothing of interest, but what had he heard a moment before.? He rewound the last conversation in his mind - nothing. No, not the last. Just before that. ...because of the rebellion...

Though he could still spot the tall figures of the British couple who had last spoken, he glanced around him to find an Asian man who could have said the penultimate statement. He spied several couples, many holding hands; he spotted a few obvious tourists gaping at the Buddha, and he saw several dog-owners and soccer players. Nothing, though, that spoke of rebellion.

The word “rebellion” had sent chills down Jase's spine, not because he feared for his safety, but because of what the last rebellion had done to the transportation system in northern Thailand. From what Jase could tell, Bill's meeting would occur within a few days.

Even the slightest delay could make Jase's entire trip across the world moot. He stood from his park bench and glided quietly along through the cluster of cassia and teak trees, one of the many which grew in semi-cultivated clumps around the park perimeter. Though he expected to hear nothing of interest from the men who had spoken, he might find out when they planned to move.

Unfortunately, the same characteristics which had attracted Jase to the trees provided several obstacles that caused him problems. Plentiful concealment, sound dampened by foliage, and relative darkness allowed Jase to move almost undetectably around the park, but it also hid the path until Jase almost stumbled out among the conspirators he had sought.

The voice arrested his movement a moment before he revealed himself.

“We cannot make a stand here,” it proclaimed, and Jase halted his step immediately. “The king has too many forces in Bangkok, and trying to rally here will result in too much bloodshed.”

Another voice answer immediately, in hushed irritation. “Are you not willing to shed blood if we can end this injustice? I say we must bring the battle to our enemies.”

“But if we fight in the north,” a third voice offered, “we can pick them off a few at a time. By the time the king finally takes us seriously, we may have reduced the numbers of the troops to a manageable level.”

The second voice cut in, “Or, the king may have reduced our numbers. I say we strike them now while we are strong.”

Jase tried to peer through a mesh of leaves that stood between him and the group, but he could not do so without exposing himself. Though he couldn’t make out their faces, he derived much from their conversation. On one of the men's left arm, Jase could spy a distinctive red patch.

It appeared to be a sort of tattoo, though it could have been an armband. Interesting, but not particularly revelatory to Jase. If he had considered a revolt pertinent in some way, he could have found their conversation enlightening, but he considered the incidental results of their conversation much more relevant. One of the perils of life in Thailand.

If he rushed to the north to precede the rebellion, he would potentially leave Nessa to Perry and the other unknown operative who had sought Jase in Bangkok. If he took the time to find her, though, out of a city of seven million people, he would remove only the immediate danger. ProtoComm would still remain, and ProtoComm could target her on any continent in any country. His only option stood in luring Perry or any of ProtoComm’s other resources out of Bangkok.

No doubt, the men would continue to mine through Sukhumvit shops in search of Jase's scent. Perhaps Jase could leave a trail north for them to follow.

A few dollars poorer, Jase seated himself uncomfortably on a back row seat of the train that would take him to Chiang Mai. Though it had cost him more time than he was willing to sacrifice, he had made a very successful sweep through the stores near Dao's tin hut.

Not only would the maneuvers help Nessa, Jase felt relieved that they would also lead away from Dao. He could not know for sure that it would work, but if the men had not yet apprehended Nessa, they would most likely leave before they stumbled upon her in the big city. They had no more reason to expect her presence there than Jase had, so they would not seek her out.

Though he had minimized one danger to Nessa, he wanted to contact her and warn her to get out of Bangkok quickly. If she and ProtoComm were both looking for Jase, they might run into each other while following the same trail. Jase wanted both to warn her of ProtoComm's presence in the city and to inform her that he had left Bangkok.

Picking up his new phone, he dialed her cell number, but the action proved futile. He sent her a text message, and then emailed her with as nonchalant a tone as he could manage. Despite all of his methods, Nessa had yet to have contacted him after a full six hours on the train.

He wanted to dash the useless phone against the window, but he couldn’t afford to lose his cool over personal issues when he was going into something so dangerous. He had another few hours on the train, and though he could have gotten off and headed back to Bangkok, it would prove counterproductive. Instead, he needed to focus on what he could more likely control: the sooner Bill went down, the sooner Nessa – a lot of other people – would be safe.

It became obvious almost at once that the natives would defer to the elderly, offering them a seat, a respectful greeting, a slight nod of the head. The natives also seemed to have an undue amount of respect – only partially from fear – of the wealthier-looking passengers. Still, most people wore a pleasant smile on their countenance. So many smiles spattered throughout the train car, in fact, that they soon grew indistinct in their abundance.

Not everyone fit the pattern, though. Within a few minutes of seating himself in a corner seat, Jase noticed a small group of young men sitting in two facing seats cattycorner to his own position. From what Jase could see, everyone on the train, even the otherwise revered, gave the bunch a wide berth. Too, Jase definitely sensed the cloud of fear that enshrouded them.

If Jase had to guess, he would postulate that they represented some form of gang-like entity. Their lack of a smile brought them into sharper relief than any other characteristic, especially because they seemed to fear no social retribution for their unpleasant demeanor. Instead, they acted like they possessed complete impunity for their incivility. Definitely a group worth observing, and possibly even worth following if he intended to access the criminal network in Thailand.

Too many hours passed with no increase in information, but Jase surveyed the men nonetheless – it gave him something to do. No matter how long he studied them, though, Jase could divine nothing of interest beyond their obvious identity as criminals.

Jase’s only other curiosity came in the form of a nervous-looking businessman - an Englishman, if Jase could judge by the newspapers stashed in the side pocket of the man’s briefcase.

Occasionally, the man would glance about him in agitation, a habit that grew more frequent as the final destination grew closer. Jase shifted his eyes back and forth between the man and the gang, his attention ping-ponged back and forth by their respective movements.

The sky overhead had long before grown dark, and Jase could make out the orange glow of Chiang Mai ahead. In less than half an hour, Jase would need to make another decision that would set him in a new direction. After a couple more minutes staring at the gang, Jase directed his eyes back to the other man. The man sat only a few rows ahead of Jase himself, and his proximity meant that Jase could discern the man's slightest movement. When the man made a very dramatic sweep of the cabin with his eyes, though, Jase would have seen it from a mile away. No doubt, the man didn’t want anyone watching.

Once he felt confident in his security, the man reached furtively down to a zipper that secured the top of his case. His eyes in constant motion, he moved the zipper slowly along its path until he could pull open the bag. Jase’s eyes moved with the man’s to the contents of the bag, and Jase suddenly understood the man’s nervousness.

Though darkness pervaded the cabin, Jase could distinguish the interior of the briefcase using the light which flashed through the windows as the train pulled into the station. A huge sum of money, apparently in the Thai currency, filled the entire cavity of the bag. With the gang stationed so near him, no wonder the man had worried about his load.

Fortunately, the money took the man out of Jase’s consideration, though Jase would make sure to note the man’s direction when he exited the train. Jase glanced back up at the gang’s corner, determined now to follow them from the train. To his chagrin, the corner stood empty, no evidence left that the men had occupied the seats.

After a quick assessment, Jase saw movement through the back window of the adjacent car. Though the train had not stopped, the gang had apparently decided to get a head start on their exit. Jase sprang from his seat, gliding casually toward the group. He needed to keep them as close as he could while still avoiding detection.

By the time the train pulled to a stop, the group had maneuvered its way into an empty car, and Jase had no way to enter it unnoticed. Instead, he pressed his way to the door of his current cabin, all the while keeping the men in view.

When they stepped out of their coach, the crew maneuvered skillfully through the mass of bodies exiting the train and entered a waiting limo. Jase peered around him for a taxi, but the swarming train passengers had claimed every extant taxi in Jase’s direct vicinity. He cursed silently.

Of course, he really didn’t have any reason to follow the men other than vague and dubious reasoning. Still, surely they could give him direction. The men dressed in expensive American and European clothes, not the typical attire for base thugs. At the least, the men held a level of authority in their gang, and following them just seemed like a direct line to the Chiang Mai underground.

Jase glanced back at the car as the last man seated himself on the soft black leather seat. With a glare of menace, the man swept the sidewalk for observers, and everyone but Jase seemed to divert their eyes instantly.

As the man reached for the handle of the car, Jase froze as a flash of red slipped from under the man’s short sleeve. Jase recognized it at once. Though he had not seen the man in the park clearly, Jase had noted the exact shade of red, and now that he saw it up close, he realized that the shapes matched: crossed katana swords. Either he now pursued the same men he had encountered in Bangkok, or he followed someone belonging to the same gang.

For a moment, Jase stared at the retreating vehicle, trying to discern some identifying mark that he could trace. He quickly realized, though, that he would hold little chance of tracking down the exact vehicle on the streets of the million-person metropolis.

Instead, he pressed his way over to the nearest street vendor, pulling out a large roll of cash and asking for some barbecue in exchange. When the man handed Jase the small container of meat which suspiciously resembled livers, Jase asked casually about the limo, imitating simple touristic curiosity. Jase opened the container and ventured a bite of the foreign substance, careful to regulate his reaction to the unusual food.

Jase betrayed no distaste for the food, but the vendor seemed stricken by sudden nausea.

“It is no one,” the man insisted.

“So, then, limos are common on this street?”

The vendor recovered slightly, seeming suddenly to become aware of the significance of the cash in his hands. Before the man could reply, Jase handed the man several bills.

“I saw a strange red tattoo on that man. Does it mean something?”

Again, the vendor turned an odd shade of green, and Jase had the feeling that the man wished to throw the money into the barbecue. Before he did, though, he flipped through the bills as if measuring their significance. Jase recognized the man’s resignation as soon as it happened.

“You don’t want to mess with those men,” the vendor insisted, his black eyes even darker with fear.

“Of course not,” Jase reassured him. “I’m only curious.”

“Well, since you’re just curious...”

The man pulled out a newspaper, crisp and unruffled but apparently read. On the front page, Jase spied several large articles about the king, an American company’s investment in a local factory, and a recount of a recent local celebration.

A small column filled the awkward space under one article and to the right of another, and Jase almost passed over it as the newspaper no doubt had intended. His poor skill at reading Thai made him at first miss the pivotal word, but the word “Samurai” caught his attention. Only then did he notice the phrase “Samurai gang.” Suddenly, the katana tattoo made sense.

“Where do I find them?” Jase begged.

“No one knows exactly where they hide,” the man replied. “During the night, they run free, like cockroaches, but no one knows where they go during the day.”

“But someone owns the limousine.”

At this, the man again hesitated, and Jase could sense the elevation of the man’s fear. Jase pulled out another stack of bills, and the man grabbed at them greedily, avarice eclipsing his anxiety.

“Khun Na Ayutthaya has many homes around town, so even if I told you his name, you would not necessarily find him.”

Nice, Jase smiled. Without giving him any real information, the man had given Jase everything he needed. Khun, meaning revered leader, and Na Ayutthaya, a surname. Jase only had a last name, and not an unusual name in higher circles, but even so, surely Jase could take the name and find more information.

“Of course,” Jase agreed. “I understand that you can’t tell me anything. Keep the money for your time, though.” Jase turned and wandered down the street. He had an idea, but he needed a direction.

When the phone rang, its sound came so unexpectedly that Jase at first attributed it to a passerby. After a few rings, however, he depressed the button to answer his phone.

“Thank God,” the voice gushed on the other end of the line.

“Thomas?” Jase felt a surge of relief. Thomas’s calling meant that the pilot had no doubt found Nessa. Though Jase had forced her from his mind, the release of anxiety informed him that he hadn't forgotten her dilemma. “When do you fly out?” Thomas's hesitation reignited all of Jase’s apprehension. When the pilot didn't answer, Jase pressed for a response. “Thomas, what's going on?”

“Well,” Thomas admitted reluctantly, “I can't find your girl. I checked out the hotel where she had stayed, and it looks like she checked out yesterday. According to the description I gave the clerk, he says she had checked in under the name 'Marisol Bennett.'”

Despite the bad news, Jase noted with pleasure that Nessa had used his middle name as her surname. “Have you tried to call her?” Jase fished.

“Of course, but she hasn't answered, and the last time, a message said the phone had been disconnected.”

“Damn!” Jase once again cursed his impotence. How had she disconnected her phone in less than a day? With a jolt, Jase recognized that Bill’s communication company could effect the change even without her permission.

“Look, Jase, I don't really know what else to do. I'm no slacker, but I'm not exactly trained for this. I can't think of anything else to try.” Thomas seemed genuinely distressed over his inability to help.

“You've done more than I could have hoped, Thomas. I'll take care of it. Would you do me just one more favor before you fly out?”

“Of course.”

“Call that other number that I gave the little girl. The one for Briel. Just ask Briel if she has had any contact with Nessa in the last two days. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that wasn't Nessa in Bangkok, and I'm just delusional.” Jase prayed that his own words would prove true, but he held out little hope for their accuracy.

“I can do that,” Thomas agreed. “I'll let you know when I have something else.”

“Thanks. And next time, text me. If I'm in a covert position, I won't be able to answer a phone call.”

“No problem,” Thomas offered before Jase ended the conversation.

With his new information, Jase wanted to sit down on the curb and hide his face in his hands to try to block out the anxiety he felt for Nessa. He didn't want to care that much because it made him weak, and he hated it.

Even more, he hated the fact that he had caused whatever harm befell Nessa. Better if she had never met Jase – she would never have run afoul of these people if not for Jase. Was Drew good enough for her? Of course not. Still, she could have done worse than settle for a simpleton. Better than to fall in love with someone who could only hurt her.

With a steeling breath, Jase resumed his stride down the crowded sidewalk. Moping would accomplish nothing to help Nessa or to accomplish his goal. He had little trouble finding a lead that would take him to Bill. Fortunately for Jase, Chiang Mai did not hold as many wealthy districts as did Bangkok, and when he spotted several designer handbags and tailored jackets heading into the same bar, Jase followed them.

After having expended minimal effort, Jase hailed a taxi and found himself on the path to the Mae Sa area north of Chiang Mai. Ten minutes into the ride, the density of homes thinned, and the row houses gave way to moderate sized stand-alone properties – the perfect place for Bill's residence.

Rather than waste his energy wandering through a random neighborhood, Jase holed up in a sidewalk cafe after procuring a cup of coffee from its proprietor. Of course, he had no idea how exactly to find Bill, but Jase had narrowed his search to a relatively small area, and he felt confidence that with a little more observation, Bill would reveal himself.

The caffeine from the coffee kicked in quickly, and Jase realized how tired the day had made him. He knew better than to push himself past his physical limitations. Even if he only dozed for a few minutes, he needed to sleep. He had bought a few newspapers, thinking to search for evidence explaining the political unrest he had overheard, but he began to doubt whether he had the mental resources to filter through the information.

As if in concert with his thoughts, Jase began to nod off, finally placing his head down onto the newspaper before him. For once, Jase slept dreamlessly, much too well for a man with so much on his mind, or for a man leaning over a wood table.

When he final roused from slumber, he found his hand rubbing gently over the polished fragment that he had pilfered from the scene of Briel's apartment fire. The sensation woke him to a nebulous suspicion, but his as yet unconscious mind couldn't quite grasp the thought before he again grew oblivious to his surroundings.

When Jase felt the hand upon his shoulder, he had no consciousness of how much time had passed. Minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell, but he sensed that he had lost something important, that it had slipped from his grasp with the last remnants of sleep. He restrained his initial instinct to grip the offending arm that touched him and twist it painfully behind his transgressor's back.

Instead, he just peered from the corner of his eye at the diminutive figure next to him. When he spied the wizened face of the shop owner, he felt grateful at his restraint.

“I am sorry, mister,” came the old woman's crackly voice. “I am about to turn off the lights, and I do not think you will be safe if you stay here all night.”

Jase checked his watch. 2:45 a.m. Fortunately for him, Jase had picked an establishment that stayed open late. He seemed to have slept for a full two hours, a rest that would suffice for the next day at least. The deferential smile of the restaurant proprietor drew a return smile from Jase, and he reached to gather up his belongings.

The vibration in his pocket distracted him, and he reached into his pocket expecting a new text from Thomas. When the phone continued to vibrate, though - a call, not a text - Jase grew incredibly curious. He had specifically instructed Thomas not to call again except in an emergency. The phone number didn’t provide a caller ID, and Jase wondered if Thomas had already needed to replace his phone again. Jase prayed that he hadn't put his buddy in too severe danger.

As he rounded a corner into a nearby alley, Jase pressed the talk button immediately. The familiar voice sent his mind into overdrive.

“...you are,” came the remnant of a hushed statement. “I trust Drew, and I know we can figure this out together, but I would feel so much more confident if I had your input.”

Jase's mind raced. Nessa? If she had Jase’s number, Thomas had found her and had no doubt ushered her out of the country. Why, then, would she call? What would make her place such a risk on Jase?

“Slow down,” he commanded, recognizing the slight ring of panic in Nessa's tone. “What's going on?”

“I told you; we're on our way to the Chinese border.”

For a moment, Jase's lungs threatened a revolt against his composure. He forced himself to breathe evenly, though his mind raced. Had she refused to leave? Had Thomas failed to find her? “In Thailand?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she hedged.

“Why in the world would you come here?” he scolded. “I told you I would contact you by Friday.” Jase still technically had thirty hours until he had to report to her.

“Look,” Nessa sounded exasperated, but she hurriedly explained herself. “Your pilot called my phone, and Drew answered. I think that if I hadn't been in the room with him, Drew would have tried to deny the substance of the phone call - I mean, it’s not like he cares if you live or die.”

Jase could hear her disdain even over the phone. “But when I heard that someone from ProtoComm had drugged you and tried to kidnap you, I couldn't exactly sit still and do nothing. I convinced Drew to come to Thailand. Thomas gave us this number.”

“So, you called to make sure that I'm okay?” Jase asked incredulously. “What if I had been in the middle of something important? What if I hadn't answered your call?” Though he tried to remain calm, the irrationality of Nessa's actions drove him almost to anger with her.

“I'm not ignorant, Jase,” she snapped. “I didn't call to check up on you. I called to...”

Nessa cut off, and Jase didn't like the sound of the sigh that seeped through the phone. Abruptly he processed her original statement. I trust Drew, and I know we can figure this out together, but I would feel so much more confident if I had your input.

“What is going on, Nessa?”

“I shouldn't have called. Drew would shoot me if he knew I'd called you for help. He says it's not that big of a problem, and I don't need to bother you.”

“Help with what?” Jase pressed impatiently.

“I am such an idiot,” Nessa suddenly upbraided herself. “Really, I'm fine, Jase. I really shouldn't have called you, not when you have so many things on your plate. Seriously, Drew and I can handle this.”

For the first time since he had met Nessa, Jase wanted to scream at her. Still, he knew the futility of pressing her where she didn't wish to yield.

“Of course, you can,” he appeased her instead. “I would like to know, though, what's going on. I mean,” Jase feigned nonchalance, “when I'm done with Bill, I can come help you guys out. If you just give me a little information, it'll help me plan for when I'm done here.”

“Um,” Nessa hesitated. “Okay, Jase. I don't know much anyway, but I'm somewhere on a train, heading north. When Drew and I arrived in Bangkok, we were ambushed almost immediately. Fortunately, we fled into the train station and hopped a train, but I'm hidden in some hole with luggage, and Drew is out trying to figure out where we should debark. He's trying to find a covert route back to the leerjet without passing through Bangkok proper.”

“You're going the exact opposite direction, Nessa.”

“Well, we figured that out by now! We didn't exactly have time to study the train schedule!” Nessa spat petulantly. At this, Jase smiled. Whatever had happened hadn't traumatized her too severely.

“Of course not,” Jase allowed. In light of Nessa's situation, how could Jase possibly focus on Bill Henry. Nessa's immediate danger or an imagined future one? Jase continuously found himself torn between the two unacceptable options.

“Look,” Nessa's tone grew obdurate. “Drew was obviously right about this. I should never have called you.” Jase could think of nothing to say that wouldn't determine her against him. After a moment of silence, Nessa continued in a pleading tone. “Jase, it was a mistake to call you. I really am okay. I just had to know you were still alive.” On the last words, her voice shrunk almost beyond hearing. Jase's gut clenched at the sentiment inherent in the tone.

“Nessa, just tell me where you are. I can find Bill later, but if you’re not safe, what good is my attempt to take him on. I would much rather take care of you first.”

“Yes,” she agreed knowingly. “I know you would. That's my point. You have more important things to do than worry about me, because I'm fine.”

“Nessa, I'm coming to get you.”

“No, Jase. You're not. “

“I can find another time to stop Bill. He'll slip up again.”

“And how many women will be sold into slavery before then?” Nessa chastised Jase. “How many drugs and weapons will end up in the hands of unscrupulous men if you miss this opportunity so you can come rescue your poor damsel in distress?”

At her obvious reproach, Jase gritted his teeth. He knew very well that she would resent the characterization. He also knew that she had said the words to manipulate him.

“You have no idea where I am or where I'm headed,” she assured him. “You couldn't find me if I didn't want you to.”

Though Jase usually took such assertions as a challenge, in the current case, she was largely right.

“I could triangulate your cell phone position.”

“Yes, and by the time you did that, the train would have traveled hundreds of miles. Don't come back for me. Not yet.”

Again, Jase wanted to yell at her. Nessa had effectively backed him into a corner, and he absolutely hated feeling trapped.

“Fine,” he allowed angrily. “You're right, for now. But I'm going to find you when I'm done. I'm sure Bill sent someone after you, and that's why you were ambushed. He probably had you watched in Boston so he could find me.”

“No doubt. To find you, not me. I'm not really a target, okay? Stop obsessing and go save the world.”

Though Jase wanted to argue more, she suddenly lowered her voice. “Look, I gotta go,” she insisted. “I hear Drew.”

“Wait. Don't throw the phone away. I'll call you back when I'm through with my work.”

“Fine,” Nessa whispered.

“I love you, Nessa,” Jase insisted, willing her to return the words to him.

Just as the phone clicked to silence, he thought he heard the faintest echo of a reply, but Drew's caustic tone buried any certainty of her words.

“Time to go,” Jase heard the harsh voice.

Damn him, thought Jase after the click cut off his connection. Jase wanted nothing more than to be the one to protect Nessa, and Jase would never have spoken to her that way. Drew's blatant disrespect embroiled Jase's already disquieted state of mind, yet, once again, he could do nothing.

Instead, he refocused, digging through his memory for some details that he could grab onto for direction. The names on Bill’s computer? With no context, Jase had found himself unable to discern their meaning. Still, he had to move. Nessa's dilemma erupted springs of energy that bubbled under every inch of his skin until he couldn't sit still.

And how many women will be sold into slavery before then? Nessa had said. How many drugs and weapons will end up in the hands of unscrupulous men if you miss this opportunity...? And what would happen to Nessa?