Connor pivoted through the doorway, only to return a moment later. “Clear.”
Dempo gestured for Shanti to enter. “Please, be my guest.”
Shanti stepped into a small room that held a bed, a low table, a shelf with prayer beads, books, a little shrine with a seated Buddha, and a meditation cushion. There were three doors—the one they’d just come through, another that must lead to a hallway, and another that led to … “A bathroom!”
“As I said, being abbot comes with privileges. I apologize that I cannot provide you each with your own room.”
“We’ve been on the run for four days through the jungle together. We’ll manage.” Connor walked over to the only window, careful to stand off to the side, still very much in military mode, his jaw tense.
“There are soldiers out there. Do not let them see you,” Dempo warned him. “No offense, but you two do not look like one of us.”
“No offense taken,” Connor said.
“Now, you can rest. There is a nun here whom I trust with my life. She is my daughter, though no one knows that. She will come with food, drink, and clean robes for you to wear while you’re here. You may stay until you feel it is safe to move on again. Lock the door if you must. There is no lock on the outside.” He pressed his palms together again and left them.
Shanti went to stand beside Connor, saw helicopters in the sky and below, a road with soldiers and army vehicles. They would have been out in that right now if not for Dempo. “Do you trust him now?”
Connor’s expression hadn’t changed. “We’ll see.”
“God, I want a shower.”Shanti walked into the bathroom.
“Don’t get naked yet.” It wasn’t in Connor’s nature to feel secure in unfamiliar places, especially ones he didn’t control.
“You think this is a trap? He helped us escape the helicopters, let you keep your weapons, showed us how to get out of here in an emergency, and left the gate and this door unlocked.”
“That’s all well and good, but I had a rifle pointed at him.” It wasn’t impossible to imagine that Dempo had lured them here, promising them everything they needed—water, food, shelter, safety—so that he could sell them out to Naing’s soldiers.
Hadn’t he admitted to being one of them in the past?
“Can I at least take off my boots and socks?”
“Sure.” Connor stayed by the window, watching troops drive up and down the road leading into the forest.
The monastery seemed to stand on the edge of a small town, simple homes squatting along the banks of a small river, the mountains rising behind them.
A light knock.
Connor drew one of his Glocks, stepped out of the line of sight. “Open the door, but stay behind it.”
Shanti did as he asked, her pulse spiking.
A young woman wearing pink robes, her head shaven, walked into the room carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. She showed no fear at the sight of Connor’s gun. “I am Mya, Ashin Dempo’s daughter. I have brought you tea.”
“Tea!” Shanti’s elation almost made Connor smile.
He lowered his weapon, watched as Mya carried the tray to the low table, knelt, and arranged the pot and the cups.
“You must be weary. Soon, I will bring you food and robes. Please refresh yourselves.” She stood, pressed her hands together in front of her chest like her father had done, and left them.
Shanti sat beside the table, poured tea into both cups. “Would you relax?”
“Does it have caffeine?” He left the window, walked over to where she sat.
Shanti raised her cup, sniffed it. “It’s green tea, so, yes, it does.”
He sat, set his rifle down beside him, took the cup she offered.
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes, sighed.