one night

by Chris Bunton

I never knew they existed, but this one is staring at me…two twin girls: one shy, and the other bold. Apparently that one night in Bangkok was not the end.

“You’re my daughters?”  I asked.

They smiled in the same way as their mother and nodded their heads. They stood on my front porch dressed in little skirts, while I held the door open trying to figure it all out.

A new red Buick, which I assumed was a rental car, sat in the driveway. A woman who I guessed was their mother rolled down the passenger window. She waved at me and leaned over from the driver’s seat to yell out.

“Them yours!”

About seven years before I retired from The Farm, they had sent me to Thailand. I was to meet with an opium lord, to establish relations, so we could funnel money to our assets in China.

My contact person was a beautiful woman named Kanda. We spent a week working together and became fond of each other. Then, one night before I was set to leave, we got drunk and spent the night together.

“What are your names?”  I asked the girls.

“Manee!” The bold one said.

“Wonderful to meet you Manee, and you are just like a precious gem.” I said, mentioning her name’s sake.

“And you?” I asked the shy one.

“Ratree” She said with a smile.

“Just like a delicate lotus flower.” I said.

She giggled and blushed.

I could not figure out what was going on. Was that “Kanda” in the car? My heart leapt at the thought, bringing back the memory of that night in Thailand.

*****

Kanda and I were lying in bed. I was not naked and neither was she. I had learned long ago never to sleep naked, in case something happens. I’ll have to tell you the story of how I learned that lesson. It’s a riot.

Anyway, a five-man Chinese assassin team busted down the door of the hotel room with a sledgehammer.

At the sound of the crash, I rolled out of the bed and grabbed the Thai Army Issue .45 1911, I had been using since entering Thailand.

The bed was not cover. I had to move.

I fired two rounds at the door as I navigated behind a wall. I heard a scream indicating I hit someone. It was a standard hotel room. They had to come down a short hall past the bathroom to get into the main room where the bed was.

Kanda fired two rounds from her Sig Sauer p226 hitting an attacker before she joined me. It was just moments ahead of a burst of machine gun fire that ripped the Tv apart and shattered the sliding door to the balcony outside.

The gunfire was deafening along with the smoke choking our throats.

I could not rely on sound, so I moved with instinct, popping around the corner and sending two rounds into the front man. The other two opened fire with Uzis issued by the Thai military police.

The 9mm rounds ripped into the room again but oddly did not penetrate the wall we hid behind.

I nodded to Kanda and indicated that she roll over the bed and out to the balcony. She nodded and moved as I stuck my hand around the corner of the wall and fired a shot for cover.

She rolled to the balcony and opened fire with her Sig.

The remaining killers tore up the balcony where Kanda was, then stopped. I rounded the corner to fire, and they were gone. I quickly went into the hall peering around the shattered door jamb as the last gunman fled down the hall.

I sent a round into his back knocking him flat with the power of the .45.

My ears were ringing as I looked at the dead bodies on the floor, along with a wounded one struggling. I could not stay and deal with a captive no matter how valuable.

So, I shot him again, finishing him off.

I expected Kanda to come walking in but she did not. I then thought maybe she had gotten hit and went to look on the balcony but she was gone. No blood, no body below. Just gone.

I quickly threw on more clothes, wiped down the pistol and tossed it with the killers. I grabbed my bag and headed out the hotel door as police sirens began screaming.

I didn’t know what happened to Kanda.

My cover was blown and The Farm demanded that I be extracted, I had to hide and move around till they could arrange the escape. I never saw or heard from Kanda again.

*****

“Is that your mom?”  I asked the girls. They smiled and nodded in unison.

I had asked Personnel and anyone else I could find in the CIA, if they knew what happened to her. They either didn’t know or was refusing to say. What kind of justice was that? Not knowing if she was alive or dead.

But here she was, and she had my daughters with her. I had wondered so many times about her, and finally here she was.

The old song by Murray Head played in my mind. “One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble…” And I was hard…so hard.  But now I am humbled.

I laughed and waved, running out the door to meet her while the girls followed me giggling. She jumped from the car beautiful, with her dark hair flowing as she ran to me for an embrace.

We kissed and the girls danced around us.

Of course she could be lying. Of course it could be a trap.

But since retirement I needed a little action in my life.

I just know that one night in Bangkok has turned into a lifetime.

Photo of Chris Bunton

BIO: Chris Bunton is a writer, poet and artist from Southern Illinois.