Page 15 of Wild Temple
"Sounds like the wrong element already existed here.”
"Well, you know what I mean. Obnoxious kids coming here, starting fights, disrespecting the local culture, trashing the island. The price of everything has doubled on the island. Some of us just want to live here in equilibrium with nature.”
I could understand his frustration. Coconut Key had changed quite a bit. The secret was out. Everybody wanted to live on the island.
"What do you know about the Twin Sisters?"
"Are you talking about the waterfalls or the two redheads that work at the bar across the street?"
I laughed. "Both sound interesting.”
"Legend has it that the path to Pura Jiva begins at the Twin Sisters.” Rex paused. "Do yourself a favor. Don't go looking for that place. It's nothing but trouble.”
I smiled. "Well, you know me and trouble.”
Rex just shook his head. "I get it. She's a friend of yours. You gotta do what you gotta do.”
"If I were looking for trafficked American girls, where should I look?”
8
“Itold you, I don’t run in those circles,” Rex said.
By the look on his face, Rex was done with my questions. I was close to wearing out my welcome. Probably already had. I thanked him for the help and told him I’d see him around.
“Look, I know a few people,” he said, softening. “But I have to be delicate about how I ask.” After a long pause, he said, “Come back tomorrow. I’ll see what I can find out. No promises.”
“Thank you. You’ve already done more than enough.”
“I’ve already done more than I should have.”
I grabbed the bag and lugged it toward the door, guns and ammo clinking inside.
I stepped outside into the blistering sun and headed back toward the hotel, carrying a lifetime of pain and misery in the duffel bag. The last thing I needed was to spend the rest of my days in jail in Tanjung Sur.
Back in my room, I looked through the bag of goodies. True to his word, Rex had gotten me two 9mm Wolfen Defense pistols, popular with Russian special forces. It didn’t surprise me that he had access to this kind of equipment in this part of the world. The Russian mafia was big in the heroin trade in this area, as well as the Triad.
The bag was loaded with ammunition and extra magazines, as well as a Kydex holster for an appendix carry. Hidden away under my shirt tail, it would be hard to spot.
I’d seen a few cops on the boulevard, but not many. The ones I did see rode mopeds. It seemed they were patrolling the area to keep the tourists in line, break up fights, manage traffic, that kind of thing.
I loaded the magazines, chambered a round, then holstered the 9mm.
I left the hotel and hustled down the street to a scooter rental shop. It was the most economical method of transportation on the island. Anything over 250cc required an international driving permit. These little toys were cheap to rent and didn't require any red tape.
I grabbed the most powerful thing they had, the Yamazuki Mega MAX. It was a far cry from my 600cc sportbike back home, but it would get me around—albeit with considerably less thrills.
That was probably a good thing.
I didn't need to go tear-assing around Tanjung Sur on a crotch rocket. I didn’t know the condition of the roads. One pothole could put you into a tree and spoil the day, if not your life.
I turned out of the lot, twisted the throttle, and was thoroughly underwhelmed. Granted, I was used to a racing bike. This thing was kind of zippy, but it wouldn't scare the bejesus out of you.
The other drivers might.
That’s who you had to watch out for.
I followed my GPS, taking the winding road out of Jatala, heading into the jungle.
