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Slash and Burn

Slash and Burn

Titel: Slash and Burn Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Colin Cotterill
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characters?” Commander Lit asked.
    “Yes. No identification of the sender.”
    “So, it wasn’t from a bounty hunter hoping to get a reward,” Civilai remarked casually. “It’s usually about the money, you know.”
    “So you’ve said,” Siri smiled. “How did the embassy identify the airman?”
    “From one of the pictures,” Peach told him. “It showed the tail section broken off the helicopter. It had the registration number H32. That was Bowry’s.”
    “Does the American delegation have the photos with them?” asked Madame Daeng.
    “I could ask.”
    “It might help to identify the area,” Phosy put in. “Vegetation.”
    “Different plants growing at different elevations,” added Commander Lit.
    “If there are any locals in the pictures we might be able to identify their clothing,” said Daeng. “At least we’d know what ethnic group we’re looking for.”
    “Even the pilot himself,” Siri added. “After all these years he’d be wearing the clothes they provided. That could give us a clue.”
    “The weave of a sarong,” said Daeng.
    “Just the style of putting together the bamboo hut,” Phosy suggested. “Unique to different regions.”
    “Really,” Commander Lit agreed, “there’s a lot to be picked up from photographs if you know what you’re looking for.”
    The group was suddenly aware of their American guest staring wide-eyed at the interaction and smiling warmly.
    “Have you had a thought?” Siri asked.
    “No.”
    “Then…. ?”
    “You guys. You’re….”
    “What?”
    “Capable.”
    “Be careful now,” laughed Civilai. “Such lavish praise might go to our heads.”
    “No, I’m serious. There I was thinking Dr. Siri put this guest list together so his friends and family could have an all-expenses-paid trip to the mountains. Nepotism, you know? That wouldn’t have surprised me at all. But, you guys….”
    “Yes?”
    “You’re the real thing. You actually know what you’re doing.’
    ‘Too kind,” said Daeng. “This calls for another round.”
    “I’m serious,” said Peach.
    “As am I,” said Daeng. “And it wouldn’t surprise me if you saw one or two other flashes of brilliance from us before the week’s out. Hold on to your hat.”
    Siri smiled at this interaction, impressed at how Peach slotted so naturally into a Lao setting. She seemed mature and wise beyond her years.
    Corned beef and crackers turned out to be a very appropriate complement to Xiang Khouang rice whiskey, especially with a good dollop of mustard. They refilled and re-drank and the conversation meandered around a myriad of subjects and drunkenness arrived with the night mist. Before they staggered off on their separate ways, they vowed not to rest until they found their young airman. Siri reminded them to use the signposted latrines rather than hopping over the back fence. Prostheses, said Civilai, after several stabs at the word, had come a long way since the peg but were still very poor substitutes for actual legs. The only people not to head off in search of their rooms that night were Siri and Daeng. Siri had tried to leave but Daeng reminded him that they had hosted the meeting in their own room. To be honest, she only remembered that at the last moment when she saw her corduroy working trousers hanging from the curtain rod. As the guests had taken one candle each to see their ways home, only two stunted candles remained on the grass mat. The room was a salon of slow dancing shadows.
    “It’s cold up here,” said Daeng.
    “We should huddle together for warmth,” Siri suggested.
    Siri’s attempts at blowing out the candle flames left him coughing and wheezing.
    “That’s not a very promising sign for huddling,” said Daeng.
    “I’ll be fine. It only happens when I exhale violently. I’m rather good at inhaling.”
    He licked his fingers, pinched, and the last flame died. The room could have been draped in black velvet, so rich was the darkness. They skirted the island of bottles and glasses and made their way to the bed. As was his habit, Siri took the window side. The bed was covered with a quilt so thick that he almost needed a tire lever to lift it and insert himself underneath. He reached for his wife.
    “My goodness, you aren’t cold at all,” he said.
    “Patience. I’ll be with you in a few seconds,” she replied.
    To his surprise, her voice had come not from the bed but from several meters away.
    “Oh dear.”
    Siri extricated himself from

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