Plausible Denial (11 page)

“Right.
The information the guy has given us has been invaluable. It was instrumental
in our recent crackdowns on Khun Ut, which of course led to his retaliatory
attack on our consulate in Chiang Mai.”

“And
you have casings of the warehouses and have mapped the donkey routes.” “The
warehouse casings are not a problem.” She dug down into her large black bag,
pulled out a folder and handed it to him. “Here they are. I Xeroxed them on
water-soluble paper so you can flush them after you study them. I also included
Khun Ut’s villa in Ban Hin Taek and GPS coordinates for all three locations.”

“That’s
terrific, Charly. You’re way out in front of me.”

“I
usually am. Anyway, when you read them you won’t be so pleased. The security
around all three locations is tight. They’re surrounded by guards armed with
automatic weapons. They’ve also got a couple of Huey gunships with mini guns to
protect them. You can’t get within a thousand meters of any of them.

“The
donkey routes are less clear. There’s no one route they take each time. They
just wander down through the jungle on animal trails. I solved that problem by
giving VANGUISH– that’s his cryptonym, you don’t need to know his name – a
stainless steel Rolex watch with a GPS built into it. Pretty neat, eh?”

“Very
neat. Go on.”

“Well,
actually we had his son give it to him. He needed to be able to explain how he
got such an expensive item. So now we can track his every move through the
jungle, in real time, from Ban Hin Taek to Mae Chan.” She sat back, proud of
herself, and drained her glass.

“Good
work. Excellent. That must have taken some convincing on your part.” He
refilled their glasses. “How did you get him to agree to all that? How’d you
recruit the guy?”

“Truth
be told, it wasn’t hard at all. I was just lucky to find him. He’s a brave old
cuss who sees his cooperation with me and the Agency as an extension of what he
did with Bill Lair and the Hmong hill tribes in Laos way back when. You’ve
heard of Bill Lair, right?”

“Of
course. Met him once right after I joined the Agency. He spoke to us down at
The Farm. We had a reception for him afterward. A good ‘ole Texas boy who
married into Thai royalty and spent most of his career in Thailand, a true
legend in the CIA.”

“Yes,
and his legend lives on in Vanguish.”

“Fitting.
Did you pick out that cryptonym?”

“I
did indeed.”

“Nice
touch. So, you think we should stay clear of the warehouses and concentrate on
the donkey trails.” 

“That’s
the way I see it. The only way to get to the warehouses is to bomb them, but we
can’t get the Thais to agree to that. But if you can intercept one of the
donkey caravans…well, that’s probably your best shot, and Vanguish and I can
help with that.”

“One
more thing and then I’ve got to get you back on your way to Chiang Mai. Tell me
what you know about General Sawat Ruchupan.”

“How
do you know about him?”

“Well,
it’s kind of a long story. Rothmann put us in touch with an arms dealer down in
the Florida Keys, the guy who outfitted us with our weapons and the chemicals.

“He
in turn put us in touch with the general, the one who received the shipment. He
turned the stuff over to us yesterday and offered his services in other ways as
well. He’s a pilot. Has a helicopter and a plane. I thought he could be useful
to us because we have no support structure out here.”

“I’d
be very careful when dealing with General Sawat. He profited greatly from the
drug trade under Khun Sa. He was known at the time as one of the most corrupt
police generals in Thailand, and—believe me—that’s saying something.

“Then,
when General Prem Tinsulanonda took over as Prime Minister, back in the early
nineteen-eighties, things changed rapidly. Prem and the DEA decided they had
had enough and decided to push Khun Sa out of Thailand. By then, Khun Sa had
built up his empire to the point where it was providing more than seventy per
cent of the heroin consumed in the U.S.

“So
Prem leaned on General Sawat and persuaded him to change sides. Sawat did and
the rest is history. The Thai army and police attacked Khun Sa’s headquarters
in Ban Hin Taek with tanks and planes and, after several days of violent
fighting, managed to force Khun Sa and his SUA army to retreat across the
border into Burma. That ended Khun Sa’s rule in the Golden Triangle.”

“So
how’s the relationship between Khun Ut and General Sawat today?”

“Not
great, but word has it that the general still benefits from Khun Ut’s drug
trade, despite the fact that he’s retired now and out of the chain of command.
They’ve apparently reached some sort of a
modus vivendi
.”

“Damn…so
he’s not trustworthy.”

“No,
I didn’t say that. To the extent that any former corrupt police general can be
trusted, General Sawat has the reputation of being a straight shooter. He works
for anyone who will pay him. The word is he keeps his clients compartmented and
tries not to cross wires.”

“So
we should trust, but verify, in the words of Ronald Reagan.”

She
laughed. “Something like that.”

“Okay
Charly, you’ve got to get out of here. You’ve been here over an hour already.”

“Time
flies when you’re having fun. Are you sure we can’t stretch this out just a
little bit longer?” She gave him a look that promised everything.

He
shook his head. “I’d love to, Charly, and I mean that. Just keep your phone
handy in case I need some more of your help on this. Okay?” He grabbed his cell
phone and punched in Culler’s number.

She
stood up and flipped her hair back from her face. “Okay Mac, I’ll stand by the
phone. Just like the old days.”

MacMurphy
spoke into his phone. “She’s on her way down.”

She
gathered her things and Mac walked her to the door, but before he could open it
she put her hand on his outstretched arm and stopped him. She turned and took
his face in her hands, brushing his lips with hers.

He
hesitated. “No, Charly, you’ve got to leave.”

She
pulled open the door and was halfway into the hall when she turned back to him
and uttered, “You really are a mean bastard.”

Chapter Thirty

S
antos
dropped a one hundred baht note on the bar and prepared to leave. He was dressed
in jeans, tennis shoes and a blue, short-sleeved Thai silk shirt that barely
covered the large Heckler and Koch .45 caliber handgun holstered in the small
of his back.

The
Thai surveillant sat awkwardly in the same chair in the middle of the lobby. He
pretended to read a magazine, but his eyes never left the elevator banks at the
rear of the lobby.

Exiting
the elevator, Charly briskly crossed the lobby between Santos and the surprised
surveillant, her high heels clacking rhythmically on the marble floor.

The
surveillant fumbled with his magazine, dropped it on the floor, lurched out of
his chair, and fell in behind her, stuffing his cell phone in his pocket as he
hurried to keep up.

She
pushed through the revolving door and headed out into the night with the Thai
close behind her, and Santos close behind him.

One
behind the other, the three of them hurried through the city streets of Chiang
Rai until they reached the two-story parking garage where Charly had left her
car.

Two
blocks off of the main strip made a huge difference in both foot and vehicular
traffic. Aside from the well lit parking garage, the surrounding streets were
quiet and dark. She stopped at the kiosk at the garage entrance, paid her bill,
and one of the valets went running up the ramp for her car.

The
surveillant stepped into the shadows at the corner of the garage and watched.
When she had finished paying and moved to the waiting area, he darted across
the dark street toward a lone black, beat-up old Toyota parked illegally in a fire
zone a half block down the road across from the garage entrance.

A
red and white, official-looking permit was visible on the dashboard. Santos
guessed it gave the owner permission to park in restricted zones.
Incipient
corruption
, he thought.

Santos
figured that, since the surveillant had made no effort to use his cell phone to
alert anyone else to Charly’s movements, he was probably alone on the job. That
was a good thing. He only had to worry about neutralizing one person.

Santos
circled around and darted across the dark, tree-lined street behind the
surveillant. He moved quietly but rapidly in a low crouch and came up behind
the unsuspecting Thai just as he rounded the car on the curbside and was about
to put his key in the car’s door.

The
surveillant was so intent on keeping his
rabbit
and the garage in sight
that he never noticed the big
farang
moving up behind him.

The
surveillant leaned toward the car, fumbling in the dark intently focused on
trying to fit his key in the door. Santos slipped up behind him and brought
both hands out and around and cuffed him on both ears in a powerful clap. The
surveillant went down like a stone.

Santos
stood motionless for several moments and surveyed the area around him. The
attendant in the parking kiosk looked up momentarily and went back to reading
his magazine. Two young Thai strollers, walking hand in hand further down the
street, looked back in the direction of the sound but, seeing nothing,
continued on their way. A car drove by, illuminating the empty street.

Santos
kneeled down in the shadow of the car and quickly removed the surveillant’s
watch and wallet. He pulled a money clip with about five hundred baht in small
bills out of one front pocket and his cell phone from the other. He stuffed
everything into the side pocket of his shirt.

He
rolled the unconscious man off of the curb down into the gutter, partially
under the car. Spotting the car keys laying in the gutter, he put these in his
pocket as well.

Santos
reached down and felt the jugular vein for a pulse.
Well, you’re alive you
little fucker,
he thought,
but you’re going to have one hell of a
headache when you wake up, and your ears will be ringing like a Christmas
string quartet for a month.

Santos
stood up, watched Blackburn’s car exit the garage and turn south, took another
look around him, and casually strolled back to the Wangcome Hotel. He walked
straight through the lobby to the elevator bank, up to MacMurphy’s room, and
knocked quietly on the door.

Opening
the door, Mac saw Santos standing there with a big, shit-eating grin. His big
outstretched hands contained the surveillant’s belongings. “Brought you a
present, Mac,” he said.

“Pretty
good haul for your first mugging, Culler. Now get in here before you get
arrested. Tell me all about it, and then I’ll brief you on my meeting with
Charly Blackburn.”

Chapter Thirty-One

T
he
next morning Mac called General Sawat and arranged for an airplane tour of the
Golden Triangle. He wanted to get a feel for the topography of the area and a look
at the two warehouses and Khun Ut’s headquarters from the air. They agreed to
meet at the restaurant of the general aviation section of the Chiang Mai
airport at noon.

Noi
met them at the entrance of the restaurant, greeting them with a respectful
wai
,
revealing her deep cleavage. “
Sawatdee kha
,” she purred.

The
men returned the
wai
and greeted her in Thai, “
Sawatdee khrap.”

She
spoke to one of the waiters who led them to a table at a window overlooking the
airstrip. The table was already set with a tray of Thai appetizers,
gueyteow
noodles, assorted satays and a pot of tea. She served them with typical Thai
grace while Ling Ling, peeking out of the top of Noi’s oversized bag, yapped at
Culler, who glared back at the mutt. “General Sawat will join us shortly,” she
said. “He is preparing the plane for our tour.”

The
dog continued to yap at Culler and Noi muzzled the mutt with her hand, quieting
the obnoxious animal momentarily.

“Will
little Ling Ling be joining us on our little tour of the Golden Triangle?”
Santos asked.

“Of
course Ling Ling will join us,” she purred, clucking at the dog. “She is my
baby.” She snuggled the dog, kissed it on the snout, and fed it a piece of
spring roll from her dish. “Aren’t you, my little sweetie?” she said.

Santos
forced himself to smile, leaned toward her, and said in a calm, controlled
voice, “But, my dear, if you can’t control little Ling Ling’s incessant
yapping, I will personally wring her neck, skin her and eat her for dinner.”

Noi’s
eyes widened and the dog whimpered as she squeezed it tightly to her breast,
muzzling it with a hand to protect it from the huge
farang
monster.

Mac
looked over at Culler with a combination of disapproval and admiration. Santos
had echoed his thoughts precisely, but MacMurphy would never be so
confrontational in a situation like this. He needed Noi as an ally, or at least
neutral. If she turned on them, she could turn the general against them, and
that would not be good for the mission.

The
tension of the moment was broken with the arrival of the general.

He
approached the table with a spring in his step, greeting them with a
wai
and in a jovial voice, “My friends, I am happy to see you are enjoying your
lunch. I hope you enjoy the food. This is not the finest restaurant in Northern
Thailand, but I have selected items from the menu that are within the chef’s
capabilities.

“The
plane has been prepped and is ready to go whenever you are, but first let us
finish our lunch. I have an excellent tour mapped out for you.”