That Time in Bangkok: A Wolfgang Pierce Novella by Logan Ryles

Author:Logan Ryles [Ryles, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-13T23:00:00+00:00

9

Long before Wolfgang reached the end of the street, he knew he would never have a prayer of outrunning the sport bikes. Even if the tuk-tuk weren’t twenty-plus years old, poorly maintained, and rattling along as though it were about to fly apart, its top speed couldn’t be more than forty or fifty miles per hour.

The high-powered sport bikes closing in behind him could manage three times that speed without nearing redline. His only hope of escape would be to remain in the crowd, making tighter turns and more aggressive maneuvers than the heavier bikes could manage at low speeds. All while avoiding being shot in the back.

Adrenaline surged into his chest, fueled perhaps by the latest party anthem from Fall Out Boy. The overstimulated congestion of people still surging across the streets seemed to barely notice him as he plowed through, still laying on the baby goat horn and shouting for them to move. In his rearview he saw the sport bikes struggling to maneuver through the crowd, barely going fast enough to remain balanced, and forcing their riders to hop along with both feet skipping the pavement.

Sixty yards, maybe seventy. A narrow cushion of protection that would evaporate the moment Wolfgang piloted the tuk-tuk out of the red-light district and back into urban Bangkok.

Think, Wolf. Think!

The end of the street was twenty yards ahead, marked by darker buildings. Sitting across the intersection, half blocking Wolfgang’s path, was a silver Toyota Camry, a late model with a red light bar mounted to the roof. Printed words across the door panel were obscured by the mud on the tuk-tuk’s windshield, but Wolfgang didn’t have to guess who the man rounding the back bumper of the car was—or what he wanted. He detected the bulge of a sidearm on the man’s duty belt, a polished silver badge gleaming on his chest.

Royal Thai Police.

Momentary indecision clouded Wolfgang’s mind. He looked into the mirror and noted the guys on the race bikes hanging back, slowing as he neared the cop. The cop raised a hand, blocking his path and shouting for him to stop.

Wolfgang thought of the gun in his pocket, the shot-up store in his wake, and the dead guy with the nose ring. Even if this cop wasn’t associated with whatever hornet’s nest Wolfgang had inadvertently kicked over, he would quickly become so.

Wolfgang twisted the accelerator again, and the tuk-tuk’s motor whined to redline. He shoved the handlebars, and the little vehicle hopped a speed bump and crashed into a mud puddle, showering the cop with a personal tsunami of gunky water. The cop stumbled back, shouting in Thai, and Wolfgang made a left turn. Behind him, the howls of the race bikes were joined by a chorus of panicked shouts. Fall Out Boy screamed about young blood, and the tuk-tuk’s bouncing headlamp illuminated a winding path ahead, infested by potholes, rutted and gathering water as the rain intensified.

Wolfgang clung on, vibrating handlebars joined by perpetual washes of exploding water over the windshield.

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