On Wednesday, Ivan and Roland walked across the street from the hotel to the tea house about the time the early tea drinkers had come and gone. It was quiet at lunch time. It was during this time that Ken Ho used to arrive at the tea house to talk with Ivan.

Somehow, the morning tea lacked the full bodies flavor and recuperative power of a strong cup of coffee at the Dive Shop. Tea was tasty and a nice drink if you didn't plan to move in the next few hours. It was hot, and Roland kept it coming.

Ivan remembered the last time he left Cambodia. That first cup of coffee when he landed in the States was heavenly. The one thing he made sure he had for the next five years, morning coffee. He looked forward to his next cup of coffee on American soil.

Ivan laughed, picturing a cup of coffee at the Dive Shop. Tag made sure his cup stayed full there.

The happiness was short lived. Tag had to make sure everything got done by himself these days. Tag was his good right arm and he'd be rewarded once Ivan was home.

Roland was his good right arm in Cambodia. Different men for different jobs. He depended on Tag to get it all done at the cove. He depended on Roland to keep him alive.

He wasn't even in the same hemisphere with the coffee he loved. The Dive Shop and the tea house were literally worlds apart. Ivan had no control in one place and he couldn't get back to the other.

Mood swings were the order of the day. They came with the tea and the waiting. Ivan wasn't sure how he managed to say sane while being away from everyone and everything he loved. Ivan wasn't the only one who gave thought to his sanity that morning.

Lance did not take his eyes off the lone figure seated two tables away. Tyson and Brock both saw the animosity in Lance's eyes. It was nothing new. Lance hated everyone and he lived for conflict. He was handy in a fight, awkward when the job required stealth.

Lance thought it curious when Ivan laughed like he'd heard a joke. He immediately had the idea that Ivan could be crazy. That Roland character was definitely crazy. He had no use for either of them. He looked forward to killing them before this job was done.

Lance could feel this way without suspecting he was crazy. It didn't occur to him, most men don't have the urge to kill other men.

Birds of a feather ... , Lance remembered from somewhere.

Tyson was the team leader. Early on he realized that the best way to handle Lance was to keep him away from Ivan and especially Roland when possible. Sitting in the tea house was fairly benign as long as Roland didn't get into the act.

Ivan didn't need to look at his handlers to see what they were up to. After nine in the morning, if he looked at the front window, his handler's table was visible in the bottom right hand corner of the window. It was like a TV screen. Ivan kept an eye on them. There had been little else to do as the third week at the tea house was ending.

His handlers had no idea they were being watched. They faced Ivan. He was easy to see. While July was entering its second week, they weren't paying much attention. Mostly Ivan sat alone. When someone sat down with him, which did happen from time to time, they moved into position to overhear what was said.

The first time around, Ivan was a listener. He listened to conversations and reported anything that might be of interest when he was debriefed at the end of each day. No one tried to hear what Ivan and someone at his table talked about. They might sit down nearby to listen. It's how they made sure Ivan was giving them an accurate report on his conversations.

Ivan never knew why this tea house. He had sat in other places like it, but it was always the same. He listened and he was debriefed. His role was completely different this time. He had one job. This time he was the Judas goat they expected to betray a friend.

It was important that Ivan stay alert. He'd see trouble coming. That's how he'd avoid going out in a blaze of glory. While his handlers lollygagged, he'd be one step ahead of them before they moved.

Ivan pictured what was going to take place as soon as he was told about the mission he was going on. He'd draw General Kenji out in the open, and the handlers would take him into custody and turn him over to the Cambodian government.

While the mission was described to him, he saw the general and him being gunned down in a crossfire at the tea house. There was no answer to the question, why did they want the general? It was this discrepancy that told Ivan the objective was murder.

What Ivan was certain about, the man he knew as Ken Ho wasn't going to come strolling into the tea house and just sit down with him. What Ivan knew and his handlers didn't, Ken Ho, General Kenji always arrived with a group of men.

They came in together but separated inside the door to look like they weren't together. The other men scattered around in groups of two. No one was going to get to Ken Ho. If he was a general, these were his men and that made perfect sense.

The shootout Ivan pictured when he first heard the mission, was the death of Ken Ho, peasant. Since he was inclined to believe that the man he knew as Ken Ho was actually General Kenji, the picture he'd seen had changed. Ivan no longer saw his own death.

His handlers were certain they'd walk away. Ivan wanted to be sure he was the one who walked away. Hopefully, Ken Ho escaped with his life too, but that was out of Ivan's hands.

Ivan was armed. He was ready. Roland had his back.

Roland was an easy man to underestimate. His intellect was deceptive. Roland paid attention. He listened well. He wasn't given much to do. Up until Ivan came along, Roland was used to intimidate, discourage, and become a road block when necessary.

Ivan brought Roland with him for the muscle factor his handlers would understand. He learned that Roland remembered everything he heard. He knew when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em, and he knew when to walk away. He knew when to run, and he didn't run from trouble.

Ivan noticed Roland moving behind him. He went to the counter. He came to the table with a pot of tea and a platter of sweet bread. This was Ivan's signal that it was close to the time they would go to lunch. Roland didn't like being hungry. Ivan was sure he'd gone hungry at some time in his life, and getting enough to eat was what motivated him when it came to people who hired him.

He let Roland pick Thai or Vietnamese. Ivan liked both. He'd gone years without thinking about Asian food, but as quick as it was within reach, he enjoyed it as much as he enjoyed the food at home. Roland knew little beyond meat and potatoes. He'd never eaten Vietnamese, and Ivan marveled at his appetite.

One day blended into the next. July arrived and they waited. If Ken Ho knew he was back, he didn't intend to come to talk. Perhaps Ken Ho was busy doing general stuff. Ken Ho had always known when he was there before. Maybe he was no longer in Phnom Penh.

The tea house went through its daily machinations. No one but the Americans kept track of who came and went.

The tea house filled early in the morning, it emptied out just before they arrived, until men came for afternoon tea and sweet breads. It emptied early in the afternoon and they took lunch that extended into the heat of the day. At dinner time they came back. If anyone noticed their regularity, no one seemed to care.

People came and went, food was prepared and consumed as one July day folded into another without incident.

A familiar face came to sit at Ivan's table from time to time. He knew he knew the face. He knew he'd talked to this man before, but he couldn't put a name to the face or remember anything about previous conversations. That didn't mean anything. Nothing changed. They chatted. The man got up to go about his business.

He was questioned carefully about any such meeting.

What Ivan remembered about his discussions with Ken Ho, how ordinary they were. Ivan assumed Ken Ho was an educated peasant. There was nothing subversive or suspicious about their talks. They went from cultural, to Epicurean, athletics, and business. Ivan was young. Ken Ho was older, maybe his father's age, and maybe not quite as old as Ivan's father.

That made the discussions seem that much more out of place. Ken Ho struck Ivan as an extremely intelligent man. He dressed like a peasant, but he came with those other men. Ivan noticed they pretended not to be together, but he knew they were. He dismissed it as men Ken Ho came with when he went for tea.

General Kenji would make sure he was protected at all times. His handlers lost interest in Ken Ho. They listened to them talk. It was of no interest to them. He stopped come up in debriefings. Their talks interested Ivan. He couldn't say why. It made time go faster. Ken Ho was an interesting man who Ivan liked.

Ivan had sent pictures of Ken Ho in the general's uniform. He didn't know what it meant. Pictures could be doctored. He didn't know what interest the Company had in a Cambodian general, even if that's what Ken Ho turned out to be.

Ivan believed that Ken Ho probably was General Kenji. Otherwise, none of this made sense.

Why the Company wanted him out of the way was the mystery.

Ivan didn't know how he'd warn Ken Ho, but he'd find a way. He'd signal one of the men who came in with Ken Ho. One might come in to see if the rumors that Ivan was back were true. Ken Ho was not going to come walking in before someone came to check.

Ivan would find a way to give that man a message to tell Ken Ho to stay away from the tea house if he wanted to stay alive.

Ivan was sure he'd recognize the men who once accompanied Ken Ho. He noticed them without knowing who they were. It was how they looked, neat and muscular. They looked like soldiers.

Ivan smiled. Of course, Ken Ho was General Kenji.

It was about eleven. Ivan was feeling hungry and he was waiting for Roland to bring some sweet breads.

The boy sat at the table across from Ivan. He gave him the biggest smile. Ivan recognized him. Where did he know him from?

The boy let Ivan work on it for a while, and then he spoke.

"You don't remember me, Ivan?"

He was ten, maybe eleven. Where did Ivan know him from? Ivan realized it would have been five years ago. This boy would have been five or six then. What boy did he know who would be so bold as to sit down with him without saying a thing.

"Jon Ho," Ivan said. "You're Jon Ho."

It was Ken Ho's son. He'd come with his father several times.

"I am Jon Ho," Jon Ho said.

Ivan checked to see if his handlers were paying attention. They weren't and he had a minute to get his message across.

"I didn't think you'd recognize me," Jon Ho said.

"Listen to me, Jon Ho. Don't talk or react in any way to what I'm about to tell you. There are men here who intend to kill your father. He must not come here. I'm here to get him out in the open. He'll be shot and killed."

Jon Ho's face remained expressionless, but Ivan could see in is eyes that he heard and he understood.

"The men directly to my right are waiting for him. Don't look, just be aware of them. They are dangerous men."

"I see them," Jon Ho said.

He smiled while looking into Ivan's face.

"How have you been?" Ivan asked happily, putting both of his hands on top of Jon Ho's hands.

It would take two minutes for Tyson and Lance to realize Ivan knew the kid. That wouldn't bother them but they'd come over, because it's what they did and they had nothing else to do.

"Is your father a Khmer general?"

Ivan needed information.

"Yes. The war is over. He wants to see you, Ivan," Jon Ho said.

"He can not. I'm here to draw him out of hiding. If he comes here to see me, we'll both be killed. He can not come here."

Jon Ho watched Ivan's eyes. There were questions and confusion, but he'd warn his father. His father would seek to rescue his friend if he thought he was in danger. He needed to be calm and carry Ivan's message to him.

"Those men can't hurt my father. He won't walk into danger, but he'll do something. He hasn't been well. It's why he hasn't come. He sent me to tell you that. He'll kill those men for you. My father is a powerful man. They're fools," Jon Ho hissed.

"Tell him what I said. I can't do a thing. I'm watched constantly."

Ivan's eyes were on the window. Tyson got up and moved toward Ivan and Jon Ho.

Ivan tensed and reached for the side of his right cheek to scratch his itch. He'd protect Jon Ho if anyone moved on him.

Tyson walked behind Ivan's chair, taking a long look at the kid. He moved toward the counter. Lance got up and came toward the table. Ivan had to be ready. Where was Roland?

"My English teacher told me my English was as good as her English," Jon Ho said, feeling his father's enemies coming too close.

"You've learned well," Ivan said as Lance loomed over him.

Ivan smiled, scratching his cheek. Ivan rubbed his neck and leaned to get the Glock into position.

Lance leaned to speak into Ivan's ear as Tyson walked back toward the table with two cups of hot tea.

"Get rid of the kid. We're here to find that general. You aren't here to entertain," Lance growled before returning to his table.

"You know what to tell your dad. You better go. It isn't safe for you here," Ivan said with concern in his voice.

"I'll get tea. Drink it at the counter and then leave," Jon Ho said.

"Smart, Jon Ho. Wave when you go out. I'll wave," Ivan said.

Ivan looked back out the front window. Lance was honed in on him now. It was the first action in days and this had him salivating.

Jon Ho casually had a cup of tea while exchanging greetings with one of the cooks. He took his time drinking before heading for the door. As he passed, he waved toward Ivan. Ivan waved back.

Lance was immediately on his feet. He sat across from Ivan. Roland came in from eliminating the morning tea. He moved to stand just behind Ivan. Ivan felt the tension building. It was definitely time to go to lunch before there was an explosion.

Lance's eyes never left Roland.

"I'm not going to hurt your boyfriend," Lance blustered excitedly.

"Oh, I know you aren't," Roland said with his usual confidence.

Lance shook his head exasperated. He didn't like being watched.

"What's with the kid?" Lance asked. "You knew him."

"Yeah, he used to come in with his dad five, maybe six years ago. The kid remembered me. He couldn't have been more than five or six. I guess I'm hard to forget once you meet me. Don't you feel that way, Lance? You'll remember me, won't you."

"Long after I kill you, I'll remember. Who's his father?"

"Jesus, I hardly remembered the kid. I have no idea. Some guy who brought his kid here for tea," Ivan said.

Lance was standing. Roland took a step forward.

"You aren't here to entertain the local children. You're here to draw that general out in the open. Stick to your job," Lance ordered.

"Lance, you obviously don't know how things work. If I'm seen as being like you, especially to a kid, he tells people I'm a dick, men who might come over to talk to me, won't come over. One of those men might talk to the general you are itching to shoot, and if he tells the general I'm acting like a dick, maybe he passes on a chance to come talk to me. Can you possibly understand what I'm saying, Lance? If it's too technical for you, just nod, or better yet, I'll get Roland to explain it to you."

Roland began to laugh. If there was anything Lance disliked more than being watched, it was someone laughing at him.

Lance walked back to the handler's table. People began coming in for tea.

"Hungry, Roland?" Ivan asked. "Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, let's eat Vietnamese," Roland said.

They headed for the door.

Ivan was relieved. Ken Ho made the perfect move to reestablish contact. For the first time since landing in Cambodia, all the uncertainty was gone. Ivan had done what he set out to do.

The next move was Ken Ho's. Ivan was sure his survivability went up the more involved General Kenji became.

The Vietnamese restaurant was crowded. The food was hot and delicious. Both of them ate their fill.

Ivan found the amount of food Roland pack away was amazing. He was a very big man.

*****


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