Little Girl Gone - By Battles, Brett Page 0,93

nodded, then, after a moment, said, “Daeng said you might have a gun I can use.”

“You sure you want?”

“Better to have it than not.”

The man retrieved a pistol from the back of the closest car, and gave it to Logan. “Police catch you, not good.”

“I’ll remember that,” Logan said.

He quickly found a good spot, then looked up the hill. Through the trees, he could see a small stretch of the road that was beyond the curve just up from their position. He kept his eye on it, waiting for the van to appear. Finally, the gray van moved by, then passed out of sight.

Forty-five seconds, tops and they’d be here.

“Now,” Logan said.

The headman waved at the two parked cars. Instantly, they pulled into the street. Only instead of merging with traffic, they drove across the lanes, and halted, creating a roadblock. The lead car was all the way on the road, while the second car hung partially over the shoulder.

Immediately cars slowed to a stop and began honking, but the Burmese drivers didn’t move.

The van appeared around the curve only a few seconds later than Logan thought it would. A quick calculation told him that it was going to be about six cars back in the jam up. Other cars were still coming around the bend after it, so it would immediately be hemmed in.

“Stay in the outside lane,” Logan whispered to himself, as he backed into the cover of the bushes. “Stay in the outside lane.”

It did.

Then, as it came down the final part of the hill, it slowed to a crawl, and finally to a stop at the back of the traffic jam.

“Okay,” he said to the headman, then pointed at the line of traffic. “Start them moving around.”

The man nodded, then he and several of his men ran over to the car that was sitting halfway in the wide area. Together they pushed it all the way onto the road, as if it were stalled. Then the headman got the attention of the driver of the first car the outside lane, he moved his hand in an arc, directing the guy into the wide area so he could drive around the blockage.

Soon the next car in line was following suit.

Then the third. And the fourth. And the fifth.

Finally it was the van’s turn.

Logan gave the blockade driver a wave, and the guy acknowledged with a quick nod.

The van turned cautiously off the road, rocking a little on the uneven shoulder, but not stopping. Then, just as it pulled abreast of the roadblock, the blockade car shot backwards, slamming into the van’s front wheel well.

There was a crunch and a rip and an expulsion of air as the van’s tire went flat. It was better than Logan could have hoped.

Quickly, he stepped out from the bushes and over to the back of the van.

As he was sure would happen, someone on the inside turned the handle and pushed one of the back doors open. Logan slipped around the side, out of view, not worried about being seen in the side mirror. He could hear one of the Burmese men arguing with the van’s driver up front on the other side, keeping him busy.

The van rocked, and three people step out. Whoever they were, they headed around to see the damage, and deal with the problem.

If Logan hadn’t miscounted, the only ones left inside would be Bell, his Myanmar client, Elyse and Sein. There was also the driver, of course, if he had access to the back area. But he was currently preoccupied.

On hands and knees Logan crawled past the open back door so as not to be seen. Once he was clear, he got up, and peeked around the other side. There were five of the refugees there now, one talking to the driver, while the other four talked with three men who’d gotten out to see what was going on.

When Logan was sure the only people who were able to see him were the refugees, he took a step out, and gave them a quick wave. The one who saw him first said something to his friends.

Suddenly there were guns in their hands pointed at Bell’s men. Logan held a finger to his mouth, reminding them they all had to stay quiet, then turned toward the back doors.

Before he entered, he pulled out the small, palm-sized digital video camera. This would be the cherry on top of the other footage Daeng’s friends had taken. He turned the

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