Shadow Assassin
In April of 1996, Yunnan basked in pleasant weather and a riot of blooming flowers. Yet the special operative known as Flying Squirrel had no mind to appreciate the scenery as he sped from Kunming tow
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Summer of 1995, on the Thai-Burmese border.
In the depths of a remote tropical rainforest, not even the brightest moonlight could do more than filter through the dense canopy in slender threads, bringing only a faint glimmer to the boundless darkness.
The silence of the wild was abruptly shattered by the roar of an engine.
A Toyota HiAce 2Y van, its headlights barely illuminating the scant two meters ahead, hurtled through the blackness at breakneck speed, blending seamlessly into the night. The uneven terrain and low visibility did nothing to slow the vehicle, a testament to the driver’s extraordinary skill.
Inside the jostling van were seven people, six of whom, by their attire and manner, were clearly a well-armed and highly coordinated tactical unit.
“Flying Squirrel” wore large, thick-rimmed glasses and clenched a Marlboro cigarette between his lips, his anxious gaze making those around him uneasy.
In the passenger seat sat “Crow,” the commander of this kidnapping operation. As a fellow member of the team, he could sense Flying Squirrel’s growing unrest. Flying Squirrel was always cautious, but with the mission nearly accomplished, Crow couldn’t fathom why he was still so worried.
Crow teased, “Don’t look so grim. The mission went off without a hitch—lighten up a little.”
Flying Squirrel’s brows remained furrowed. “That’s exactly why I’m worried. There are still thirty-two kilometers to the border—who knows what might happen ahead.”
Crow shrugged, his relaxed facade belied by the constant glance