“It is, Roper,” Daeng shouted. “And you’re causing it.”

The guards raised their weapons. She lowered her head and her voice.

“I’m guessing this gang here specializes in kidnapping kids from different minorities. Laos has a couple hundred ethnic groups speaking eighty-five languages.”

“Eighty-six,” said Roper.

“Don’t make me hit you.”

“Sorry.”

“They take kids who can’t tell anyone what’s happened to them because nobody understands. Our girls here can’t even speak to each other. It’s possible the courier could communicate with one or both of them but in situations like this the kids would be threatened. I’ve seen it before. They’re told there are assassins in the camp listening for this or that language; killers who hate people from that community. The kids are told that speaking just one sentence in their own language will be their last. Of course, they’re petrified. Mr. Roper, you’ve just brought two lambs back to the slaughterhouse.”

Roper shook his head. “We . . . we should do something,” he said.

“Good plan, Mr. Roper.”

“I could talk to the headman. Reason with him.”

“We should have brought the old dog some marrow bone,” said Daeng. “No, there’s no reasoning here. I’ll give you an insight into our future. I’ll play the part of the village headman. The script goes like this. ‘I was expecting the UNHCR team to come and bring back our darling children but the helicopter didn’t arrive. It probably crashed somewhere in the jungle. So we’re mourning not only our children, but also the brave UN people who tried to bring them home.’”

“You think they’ll kill us?” Roper asked.

“I’m certain that’s the plan now that everything’s gone wrong.”

“Oh, my word.”

“I think the only reason they haven’t killed us already is because they’re waiting for the girls’ fake father to return from his hunt. And I think I know what he’s been hunting. It wouldn’t surprise me if he turned up here with a helicopter of his own. That landing pad’s seen a lot of traffic. The village screwed up. All they had to do was welcome us, play the adoring but simple natives, give us a glass of sugar juice, and wave us off. He’d return to two girls, barely used, ready for recycling. I think Big Daddy will be pissed when he sees how badly they’ve handled everything.”

“What do you suggest?”

“It’s a small village.”

“So?”

“So we take the village before Big Daddy gets home.”

Siri picked up the coffee cup and could still feel the buzz in his fingers. He sat alone with An in a corner of the restaurant. Beer had gone hunting for another cast member from the occupation, a mechanic who’d worked on Japanese planes.

“Let’s start at the other end,” said Siri.

“You mean when the Japanese arrived?” said An.