Thailand – by Courtney Webb

(Previously, Peter Farringwell got himself to Thailand with some funds from his dad. He made fast drinking friends with some co-workers and ended up, alone, at a gambling establishment. With the help of some scotch and a few lines of coke, he has managed to run up a hefty bill. He is now a ‘guest’ of the casino while someone comes up with the money.)

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Kristie was puttering around in her garden when she got the hysterical phone call from Phyllis.

“Slow down, Phyllis. I can’t understand you.” She listened attentively, frowning. “It’s alright, Phyllis. Don’t cry. I’ll get Sam and we will be over.”

She called Sam on her cell. “Hon, Could you meet me at Phyllis’s pronto?”

“Whatever you say.”

Sam and Kristie were in Phyllis’s kitchen and she was roaming around looking distracted. She had on a mismatched shirt and pair of shorts. That and her shoes didn’t match. Kristie knew it was bad.

“And this man called me, I don’t know who he is, and he told me they had Peter. I said I didn’t believe him and then they got Peter on the phone and he talked to me and…” At this point she started sobbing. Kristie put an arm around her shoulder.

“Just get it out, Phyllis,” Sam said calmly. He was sitting on a stool and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“He owes them money, gambling or something. Ten thousand dollars! They aren’t going to let him go until they get paid and then the man…laughed and…”

Sam said to Kristie. “You want to make her some tea? With honey.”

Kristie went to put on the kettle. Sam turned back to Phyllis.

“And what, Phyllis?” Sam asked.

“And, and…they wouldn’t hurt him too much if they got it soon,” she finished in a whisper and grabbed a napkin for her eyes.

Sam glanced at Kristie. She reached into the cupboard and got cups and tea.

“Do you believe them, Phyllis?”

Phyllis nodded dumbly, eyes down, holding the counter for support.

“Just sit down, Darling and we’ll decide what to do,” Sam spoke calmly.

Phyllis sat on one of the bar stools and tried to compose herself.

Sam asked, “Do you have the money?”

“I can get it,” she answered in a low voice.

Kristie asked “How did he get over there, Phyllis? I thought you told him no.”

“His father. His father gave him the money.” This brought on a fresh batch of tears. “That idiot!”

“Okay, Phyllis. It’s a little late for that. We need to think.” Sam looked at Kristie. “Phyllis, you need to call your ex and get him involved in this. He’s the one that gave the boy the money. Then, someone needs to go and get your son.”

Kristie looked at Sam in a dazed way. “Sam?”

Sam nodded. “I’ll go.”

Sam called an international phone number.

“Hey, Bill. It’s Sam Reynolds.”

“Yeah, Sam. Long time buddy.”

“Yeah, me too. Listen, I need a little favor.”

“You’ll get paid, you old dog. I need you to get me a little present. I’ll pick it up in Thailand after I get through customs.”

“Present? You know, our favorite kind.”
“You’ll meet me? What a pal. Yeah, here’s when I get in….”

Two days later Sam got off the plane at Suvarnabhumi airport. Stepping off the plane he was immediately encased in warm, moist air. There was a soft flowery scent on the breeze and the sound of cicadas humming. Vivid green plant life surrounded the airport. He went through customs in the super luxe airport and went out to meet his friend Bill.

Pretty, he thought to himself. Too bad it’s such a crime infested…

“Sam!”

He saw a long tan arm waving. His buddy at 6’4” was hard to miss.

“Bill!”

They gave each other hugs. “Too long buddy.”

“Don’t you know it. Did you get it?”

“In the jeep per your request.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

The two men went out to the jeep and drove away from the airport. When they were far from traffic, Bill pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. He pulled a cardboard box out from under his seat. Sam opened it. A Smith and Wesson 45 sat inside packed around with rags. A back-up of extra bullets was next to it.

“Is it clean?” Sam asked.

“Is it clean? Ha! This is Bangkok, Asshole. What do you think?”

Sam shrugged.

“Okay, let’s get you to the hotel and we’ll talk. Then we’ll get some dinner.”

“When do you want to hit the road and do this thing?”

“ASAP. These people are getting impatient and I don’t trust them as far as I can throw a cat.”

Bill nodded and drove back into traffic.

 Continued in Part V