It was almost 100 degrees when Chris stepped of the plane in Thailand, and the humidity coated every thing in a thin film of moisture in an instant. It was certainly a lot less comfortable than the plane. He walked across the tarmac to the terminal building, but got no relief from the promising looking shade, if anything, the terminal was hotter still. Chris made his way to the baggage claim carousel, and waited for his suitcase to appear. He hated travelling to the East, it was fine once he was settled in his hotel suite, but the actual trip was like nothing else you could experience. After what seemed like an age, the carousel started to move and the baggage fell down the ramp onto the carousel, a young boy perched on top pushed the bags on there way with a large stick.

As he walked towards customs, Chris could see that most people walked towards the 'Nothing to declare' queue, Chris knew better, he'd been coming to Thailand for almost 20 years now, initially for the Sun and the culture, then for the prostitutes and sex parties, and now for... well other things. As he approached the Customs Desk, he saw the Chief Customs officer emerge from his office and relieve the official on duty.

'Nice to see you again Mr Vaughn,' said the customs official as Chris approached the desk with his case and lifted it onto the X-Ray conveyor belt. 'Have you anything to declare?'

Chris had dealt with Gerrit de Feyter since he started coming to Thailand, the Ex-Dutch Special Forces Officer, now Thai Customs official knew the score.

'Good to see you Gerrit, just the usual today.' He slid the Dutchman an envelope which he removed from the pocket of his yellow linen Jacket. The Dutch man opened it and looked inside, flicking through the bundle of $100 bills inside.

'Everything seems to be in order Mr Vaughn, enjoy your stay in Thailand.' smiled Gerrit.

The Customs officer stayed long enough for Chris to collect his belongings and then returned to his office. Finally Chris entered the main airport, which at least had Air Conditioning. Overhead, the whump, whump, whump of the fans circulating the barely chilled air reminded Chris of the 'Apocalypse Now Redux' he had watched in his Berlin Hotel only 20 hours previously. As he neared the exit, he could see a young Thai Boy of about 10 or 12, holding a large sign above his head, on it, scrawled in large permanent marker was his Name; Mr Chris Vaughn. Chris Approached the boy.

'I'm Chris Vaughn,' he said.

The Young boy beamed up at him. 'I take bag Meester Vaughn? We have Car waiting, bossman happy you return.' Chris handed him the suitcase, and followed him outside.

Outside sat an old Lincoln Continental, badly dented but polished to a high shine, the vinyl roof had been torn in places and taped down with duct tape. A short middle aged local opened the back door, and Chris got in without speaking. Inside the air vents where blasting out the city's humid air, doing little to alleviate his discomfort. He heard the trunk close, and the Driver got into the front seat. Without speaking the car started to move. The Driver weaved dangerously and at high speed through the city traffic, barely missing Vans, Cars and Tricycle Taxis, but Chris was used to it, and tried to rest until they arrived at their destination. After 40 minutes the Car pulled up outside the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in the Silom district. The Doormen hurried forward and opened the Door, whilst the Driver recovered his Luggage. Chris Turned to the Driver.

'Wait for me; I'll be down in 2 hours.' He then walked into the opulent hotel, eager to reach his $1400 a night suite.

The Oriental was situated in a serene riverside location, on the banks of the Chao Phraya River, with The Grand Palace, The Temple of Dawn and the River City Shopping Complex just a short boat ride away. It was set in tropical gardens and widely acclaimed as one of the world's premier hotels and provided the highest standards of services and facilities, but best of all, it had Central Air. Chris Sighed in relief as he entered the opulent foyer and approached the booking desk.

'Ahhh, Meester Vaughn, so nice of you to stay with us again. Kim Soong Ji has reserved your regular room. Prease sign here and we will be honoured to show you up.' Said the Duty manager as he approached the desk.

Chris swivelled the large Leather bound sign in book round and signed beside his details, Room 4501 had been reserved as usual, the Penthouse. The Manager rang a small brass bell on the counter and a young boy of 15 or 16 appeared at his side, sporting the Hotels Crimson and Blue uniform.

'Take Meester Vaughn to his room boy, and make sure he has every thing he needs.' Said the manager. Chris just smiled back and slid him 10,000 baht.

'Thank you Mr Hong.'

The Elevator ride was about 3 minutes in length, the inside a mixture of tacky and opulent. The walls were giant mirrors, framed with gilt piping. The roof had been painted in a copy of Michelangelo's 'The Creation of Man', whilst the Carpet was the same blue, with maroon and gold Diamond patterns that permeated the entire 45 Storey Hotel. Chris arrived at his room, walking in he told the bell hop to plut his bags by the door and get out, he handed him 2,000 baht as he left. He desperately needed a shower, a shit and a shave to feel more human, but first a drink. He walked to the mini bar and poured himself bourbon and crashed out on the sofa. He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. Some women in traditional costume danced to whatever it was that represented Thai Popular music, definitely not Chris's style.

Two hours later, he emerged from the front of the Hotel, and got back into the car, feeling like a new man. The Lincoln moved off again, this time heading south, to Meuang Boran.

The car covered the distance in a little under an hour, and it was only mid afternoon by the time Chris arrived at Meuang Boran, and his meeting with Soong Ji wasn't until dusk. Chris looked around the the National Park, Meuang Boran or Ancient City, had been built by a wealthy socialite, and contained scale replicas of almost 200 of Thailand's national monuments, some long since destroyed, or looted. Although it covered 200 acres, it was laid out like the country itself, and the monuments where placed according to their actual positions throughout the country. After a few hours sight seeing, Chris finally headed to the temple Wat Khao Phra Viharn of Sri Saket. It was built on top of an artificial mountain, to mimic what the original, now just ruins, looked like. Chris climbed half way up until he came to a large boulder in the ground, approximately 12 feet across. He searched around the area until he found a switch. Pressing the switch, Chris walked back to the boulder, and checking to ensure no one was watching, he lifted the boulder, which moved surprisingly easily. It was hinged to the ground and hollow, made out of plaster or something similar. Before him was a stone tunnel, leading down into the artificial mountain, flickering lights mounted in the ceiling every 20 feet or so, gave the place an eerie feeling. Chris started to descend. Half way down the stairs, 2 men carrying shotguns stepped out from concealed alcoves to bar his way. Carefully Chris reached into his pocket and took out the letter he'd been sent. He offered it to the guard on the right, who said something in Thai, before opening the letter and reading. After some deep consultation with his partner, most of which Chris didn't follow, he handed the letter back and they both returned to their positions. Chris continued down the final 1500 feet, emerging in a brightly lit ante chamber. Mere feet away sat Kim Soong Ji, surrounded by his entourage, beautiful women, hangers on, and body guards.

'Ahhhh, Kharis, so could of your to join us again, I trust you have brought plenty of money.' Soong Ji smiled before continuing, 'I believe you have yet to meet my new wife? Suzzie!'

Soong Ji reached out and took a young girl of around 14 or 15 by the hand and drew her to him. Chris could see that she would grow up to be a beautiful woman some day. She had long blonde hair, and a pale olive complexion. She definitely wasn't Thai, probably North East European. Young as she was, she was well developed, and exactly what the eccentric Thai Arms dealer liked.

'Suzzie, I'd like you to meet Meester Kharis Vaughn. Kharis, my new and most beautiful wife, Suzzie Kim.' The young Girl Curtsied to Chris, but did not speak, she knew to interrupt Soong Ji would be a death sentence, regardless of how beautiful he thought her. 'She was the most expensive yet, cost me almost 3 million Baht, but she is worth it, she learned the skills of pleasuring me very quickly, and now I don't know what I'd do with out her.'

Soong Ji clapped his hands and an Indian or Pakistani man dressed in peasant's robes came forth carrying a silk pillow which he positioned on the floor, and a scroll which he handed to Chris. Soong Ji signalled for him to sit, which he did, they may havbe mutual respect for each others work, but this was Soong Ji's 'house', and Chris was certain he wouldn't leave in one piece if he insulted him or his hospitality. Chris opened the scroll and read, on it were thirteen names.

Wah Sing Liu
Peter Mostovovitch
Hakaru Jin
Long Duk Dong
Cathlyn Huynh
Takemasa Shimabukuro
Arao Ota
Ethan Hunt
Walden Cassotto
Tak Toyoshima
Petchtai Wongkamlao
Bongkoj Khongmalai
Atis Ruchirawat


He read through the list twice, before handing it back to Soong Ji's servant.

'I feel that I should go with Arao Ota this time, its purely random of course, but the name strikes a cord with me, I believe that we shall do very well together Soong Ji.' Stated Chris, before tossing a large envelope stuffed with American $1000 bills.

Soong Ji looked inside quickly before handing it to one of his Lackeys, 'Velly well, you shall have Arao, would you like to see him first? He is a feisty young lad to say the least, he should do you well.'

Chris just smiled and shook his head, what did it matter if he saw the boy now or later when they were to begin, it was all the same. At least things had run smoothly. The Government used to turn a blind eye to this sort of thing, rich foreigners with their strange tastes bringing lots of money into the country, but international outrage and pressure had seen the government outlawing places such as this, and arresting anyone involved, local or foreign. The Prisons weren't to be sniffed at, and for a crime like this, Chris was sure he'd never see day light again. A young lady came over and sat beside Chris, handing him a glass of Champaign, she reached between his legs and pleasured him with her hand, covering his 'dignity' with a light cloth whilst Chris and Soong Ji talked.

Around about 10 O'clock, the ante Chamber was buzzing, lots more people had arrived, from all corners of the world. They had sat down, and although not all had received the same favorable welcome that Chris had, they had all selected a name from the list, and handed over large sums of money for the privilege.

Standing, Soong Ji spoke, 'Gentlemen, I believe we are all here, if you would like to follow me, we can begin.'

Everyone rose and followed Soong Ji to the hallway that lead of from the ante Chamber.

We entered a room with a pit. The only thing that you could call it was a pit, although it was lined with concrete. It was about 30 feet across, and had railings around its circumference. At regular intervals 4 stone staircases interrupted the railing. Cameras mounted on tripods covered the pit, and as I looked around the room, more than one of us looked a little nervous. Soong Ji clapped his hands, and a steel door I hadn't noticed opened opposite us. Out of it came 2 guards carrying AK47 assault rifles, followed by what I assumed where the 13 people on the list I'd been shown earlier. They filed down into the pit and took up positions around the centre in a circle. Another man emerged from the door carrying a scroll, which he unfurled. He was an elderly Asian man, not much above five foot tall. He was stick thin, and he had the worst taste in fashion Chris had ever had the misfortune to witness.

'Gentlemen and lady, please take out your guns.' Shouted the old man. Immediately the thirteen pulled out a 6 shooter, all .22s by the look of them. 'Chamber a round please, and secure the chamber.' Again the people in the pit did as they were instructed. This time though as they were doing so, an unlit light was lowered into the pit. 'Spin the cylinder, cock the hammer and assume your positions.' The man continued, and again those in the Pit followed the instructions. The position they assumed though was that each pointed his gun at the head of the man or woman in front. Almost in unison, thirteen hammers clicked into place. The old man cleared his throat and continued, 'Turn to face the bulb. Watch it very closely. When it lights, pull your trigger.'

I looked at the faces in the pit, a few were impassive, calm, at peace, but most showed signs of stress, fear etched across their faces and showing in their eyes, to go through this for 5 million Baht? The seconds ticked by, the tension in the room almost as suffocating as the humidity. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, but looking back I'm sure it was 5 or 10 at the most.

The light lit.

Click

Click, click, BANG!, click
Click, click.

BANG!, BANG!, Click

BANG!

I stared down into the pit, four of the thirteen, including the women, were dead. Brains and blood splattered most of the survivors, one of whom had broke down in tears and was weeping, presumably because the young Caucasian in front of him had a hole in the front of his head like he'd been hit in the face with a sledge hammer. At least two of the other Patrons had obviously backed the woman, because they looked crest fallen, but the rest of us were in the dark.

'Round two.' Shouted the old man, 'Wah Sing Liu, Hakaru Jin, Takemasa Shimabukuro, Arao Ota, Ethan Hunt, Tak Toyoshima, Petchtai Wongkamlao, Bongkoj Khongmalai, Atis Ruchirawat go forward.'

Again the ritual of the loading and the spinning, this time interspersed with the removal of the bullet from the weapon first, all of which were poured onto the floor, tinkling and rolling to a stop. Again a preternatural silence descended on to the room while we waited for the bulb to light. Again there was clicks and gunfire although less of each this time. Again the bodies were cleared and another round, and another, and another. Finally, we were down to three. Three from the original thirteen.

'Round 6. Shouted the old Man., 'Arao Ota, Ethan Hunt and Bongkoj Khongmalai go forward. Gentlemen, please take out your guns.' The old man Continued. Not so immediately the three pulled out their guns. 'Discard the Cartridge and chamber a round please, and secure the chamber again.' Again the people in the pit did as they were instructed. This time though as they were doing so, an unlit light was lowered into the pit. 'Spin the cylinder, cock the hammer and assume your positions.' The man continued, and again those in the Pit followed the instructions. The old man cleared his throat and continued, 'Turn to face the bulb. Watch it very closely. When it lights, pull your trigger.'



The light lit.

Click , BANG!, BANG!