Plausible Denial (22 page)

Culler
pulled the police cruiser in behind the Toyota. Mac jumped out and hurried over
to her. Grinning broadly, he embraced her and whispered in her ear, “God, you
look great.”

Winking,
she whispered back, “You stink like a horse, and what happed to your ass?”

“It’s
not my ass. It’s my hip. See, right here.”

“Doesn’t
look too bad.”

“That’s
easy for you to say. It hurts like hell.”

Culler
approached them from the other side of the car. He held his hand out to her,
and she took it in both of hers. “So I finally get to meet the famous Culler
Santos.”

“It’s
all my pleasure, Charly. I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Thanks for getting us
out of this jam.”

She
smiled and put her hands on her hips. “That’s my job, keeping people like
Santos and MacMurphy out of trouble. But you’re not out of the woods—or
jungle—yet, boys.”

Then
she was all business. “Okay, guys, let’s get your gear into the back of the
Land Cruiser. Pull the police car over there, Culler, close behind the building
by that door where it can’t be seen from the road. Then let’s get the hell out
of here. These villagers notice everything, absolutely everything.”

Charly
drove and Mac sat next to her in the front seat while Culler stretched out in
the back. She drove rapidly the last few kilometers into Chiang Mai, briefing
them on the arrangements she had made for them.

“You
can keep this car for as long as you need it. It was leased in alias by one of
our most trusted Thai support assets. It’s as close to clean as we can get.
When we get to Chiang Mai, I’ll drop you off at an unused safehouse. It’s a
two- bedroom apartment in a nice neighborhood, not too far from the consulate.
Lot’s of
farangs
live around there, so you won’t stand out too much if
someone sees you. It was leased in alias by an American retired Navy Chief and
used only once, for the debriefing of a Hong Kong station journalist asset, so
it’s as clean as we can expect. It’s also quite comfortable. The Chief’s alias
name is Harold Moscowitz, just in case anyone asks.”

“You’re
the best, Charly,” said Mac. “Rest and food and a stiff drink, not necessarily
in that order. That’s what we need most right now.”

Charly
glanced over at him and then at Culler in the back seat, and pinched her nose
with her fingers. “And a bath, boys—a long hot soak. You guys are ripe!”

Culler
and Mac responded with sheepish and knowing nods.

“Oh
yeah, I almost forgot, I brought some light disguises for you guys as well.
They are in that blue sports bag in the back, Culler. They’re nothing great,
but quick and easy to use and enough to blur your appearances. The good guys
and the bad guys are all out looking for you, and they have your descriptions.”

Culler
rummaged through the bag, examining the items she had brought, while she
continued talking.

“You’ll
see I brought a selection of different mustaches, two longish wigs, a couple of
different caps for you to wear, an assortment of sunglasses and regular glasses
that are big enough to hide your eyebrows. And, oh yes, some hair dye for you,
Mac. That is unless you want to wear one of the hippy wigs I brought.”

“Hair
dye? You want me to color this distinguished gray hair of mine?”

“Don’t
worry, handsome, it’s not permanent. It’ll wash out over a week or two, and
you’ll be back to your old, extinguished–I mean distinguished–self once
again…and alive. That’s the most important thing.”

She
drove into the outskirts of the city and soon pulled up to the underground
garage entrance of a four-story, sand colored, brick and stucco apartment
building on a quiet, tree-lined street. She pressed a remote above her sun
visor and the door rolled open.

She
pulled into the garage and parked in slot number 222.

“This
is your space. Don’t park anywhere else, or the manager will come knocking on
your door. People are very protective of their parking spaces in this
building.”

The
garage was almost deserted. Only about a quarter of the spaces were occupied
with cars. She said, “Most of the residents are at work during the day, so if
you have to come and go, this is a good time to do it.”

They
grabbed their gear out of the trunk, leaving behind the heavy boxes of ammo and
the assault weapons. “Don’t forget those two bags of groceries,” she said. “You
guys must be hungry, and I came prepared to give you a pasta fix.”

She
led them to an elevator near the middle of the garage and hit the call button.
When the elevator arrived, she pushed the button for the forth floor. Thus far
their arrival was unnoticed.

Soon
they would be home free and out of sight inside the safehouse apartment.

When
the elevator stopped on the ground floor to let in a Filipina maid dressed in a
white uniform pushing a baby stroller, Culler and Mac shuffled to the back of
the cab and tried not to make eye contact with the woman. The woman pushed the
stroller and child into the elevator cab and turned it around, facing the door
with her back to Culler and Mac.

She
pushed the button for the second floor and the doors closed. No one spoke on
the ride up to the second floor, but the woman made sniffing sounds and glanced
around her on the floor for the source of the odor. When the elevator reached
the second floor, she exited rapidly without looking behind her.

When
the door closed, Mac broke the silence. “Murphy’s law. Do you think she’ll
remember us?”

Charly
frowned at him like he had lost his mind. “Oh yeah, she’ll remember you all
right. No doubt about that.”

Chapter Sixty-Seven

C
harly
gave them a quick tour of the apartment and directed them to their respective
rooms and showers. She found some Neosporin salve and bandages in one of the
medicine cabinets and handed them to Mac. “Okay, clean yourselves up and slip
into something more comfortable while I get started on fixing you something to
eat.”

Mac
pecked her on the cheek. “Thanks Charly. I’ll call you when I’m clean so you
can dress my wound, okay? By the way, you didn’t by any chance bring us
something to drink to go along with that pasta, did you?”

“Of
course I did. Knowing your love of vodka and wine, I brought both. But you
can’t have anything until you are shaved and clean. Then I’ll fix your scratch
and you can have a drink.”

She
busied herself in the kitchen, unpacking the groceries and preparing to cook
the pasta. When she heard the water from the showers shut off, she grabbed
three glasses from the cupboard, filled them with ice, sliced a lime and
prepared three strong vodka tonics.

Mac
padded into the kitchen barefoot, wearing gym shorts and a tee-shirt. He
smelled of soap and shampoo, and his wet hair was neatly parted and slicked
down. She offered him one of the vodka tonics and took another. “Cheers,” she
said, clinking his glass with her own.

“Cheers!”
He took a long satisfying drink, exhaled and then put his arm around her,
pulling her to him. “This is manna from heaven.”

She
moved into him and put both hands around him, being careful not to spill her
drink. He looked down at her, deep into her eyes, and stroked her hip with his
free hand. His breathing quickened.

“Am
I interrupting something?” said Culler, entering the room.

She
pushed Mac away and blushed. “Not at all. Here, I fixed you a drink.” She
handed him the vodka tonic, and the three of them clinked glasses in a toast.

“To
better days ahead,” said Culler.

“Hear,
hear,” said Mac. “Now will you dress my wound? It really hurts, damn it.”

Culler
laughed. “Go fix his ass, Charly. I’m tired of hearing him complain about it.”

Charly
took Mac into the bathroom, slathered the four-inch long wound with Neosporin
and bandaged it lightly. “It looks like a burn from a poker,” she said. “You’ll
live. You don’t need any stitches. Just keep the Neosporin on it, so it doesn’t
get infected. You’ll be okay.”

Later,
Mac and Culler sat at the small kitchen table drinking their cocktails, while
Charly busied herself preparing the meal. They filled her in on what had
transpired over the past few days, and she briefed them on what had been
reported in the local press and in Agency cable traffic.

“So
the bottom line is they—and I’m talking about the police and Khun Ut—have your
descriptions and know your alias names. They also know you escaped in a police
cruiser, and as soon as they find it behind the charcoal factory in San Sai,
which won’t take long, they’ll know you’re probably in Chiang Mai. That’s about
it. There’s very little in Agency or State traffic, only a little reporting
about the killing of an American tourist in a car bombing and some internecine
fighting among the drug lords. As far as I can tell, no one at Headquarters
knows you guys are here, other than Edwin Rothmann, of course. So I think
you’re okay on that score.”

Mac
got up to make refills. “We tried to do this without any support from you or
the Chiang Mai Base, and the reasoning behind that decision was sound. Problem
is we failed. We got a lot of people killed, including that young American
kid—that really hurts—and didn’t accomplish anything other than to raise the
ire of Khun Ut and his people.”

“Yep,”
said Culler, “I expect we managed to piss them off real bad.”

“Well,”
said Charly, “You’ve just got to be more careful from now on. You need to do
what you’ve got to do, then leave.”

Mac
took a long drink of his vodka tonic. He was feeling human again and the
alcohol helped him to relax. “Tell me again about General Sawat. How much can
we trust him?”

“The
only person in Thailand you can fully trust is me, Mac, and I think you know that.
But if you keep Sawat on a short leash and use him on a strict ‘need to know’
basis, I think he’s about as good as you can get around here. He won’t just
decide to turn you in or blow your cover, but if Khun Ut puts the screws to
him, he’ll squeal like a pig.”

“What
about his ever present mistress, Noi?” asked Culler. “He takes her everywhere,
her and that yappy mutt.”

Charly
turned the heat down on the pasta and turned to face them, gesturing with a
long wooden spoon. “She’s definitely a problem. Sawat bought her out of a
massage parlor three or four years ago, when she was about seventeen. Her
family is from northeast Thailand, around Loei, I think. A very depressed area.
Her father sold her to the massage parlor in Chiang Mai. It’s a pretty common thing
in these parts, a huge source of income for the impoverished. Now that she’s
set with the general, I’m sure they receive some sort of a monthly stipend from
him. Word is she’s very doting on him and extremely loyal.”

“But
she’s basically a hooker, and you can’t trust hookers, right?” said Mac.

Charly
raised her eyebrows. “Of course, she’s in it for the money, and if she gets a
better offer she’ll take it. She’s clearly a weak link.”

“But
they’re a package,” said Culler. “The two of them and that obnoxious mutt.”

“That’s
right,” said Charly, “so be extra careful if you feel you have to use him
again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Khun Ut or the Cambodian has tapped into her
to keep tabs on the general.

“Anyway,
pop open that wine, will you, Culler? Then let’s eat. You guys must be famished
and the pasta is done.”

Charly
watched them devour a huge bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce, a loaf of Italian
bread, large green salads with tomatoes, onions and hard boiled eggs topped
with a creamy Italian dressing, and a bottle of Chianti Classico.

It
was almost five in the afternoon when they pushed back from the table. Charly
began clearing the table, rinsing the dishes and placing them in the
dishwasher. “I brought coffee as well. Shall I make a pot?” she asked.

They
both shook their heads. “Not me,” said Mac. “I don’t want anything to keep me
awake.”

“Me
neither,” said Culler. “Just point me toward the bedroom.”

“Well,
I should get back to the office and check the afternoon cable traffic. I’ll
check in with you guys in the morning.”

“Do
you need a lift back?” asked Mac.

“No
way, I don’t want to be seen with you guys. I’ll take a taxi.”

Mac
stood and took both of her hands in his. “Take care of your business and let us
crash. Tomorrow morning we’ll decide what to do next. Right now I’m too tired
to think.”

She
hugged him and then Culler. At the door she turned and looked back at them.
“Sleep well, my beauties. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

Chapter Sixty-Eight

I
t
was almost nine o’clock when Charly returned to the apartment and gently rapped
on the door. Mac, who was puttering around in the kitchen dressed only in boxer
shorts, opened it.

She
reached out her hand and placed it on his chest as if to say
don’t come any
closer
, but then she moved her fingers gently through the hair and caressed
him before slipping easily into his arms.

He
pushed the door closed and succumbed to the smell and feel of her. They
embraced and kissed deeply standing in the doorway, and he could feel the heat
rising between them.

But
it was she who pushed back this time. Then she leaned forward, nibbled his
earlobe and whispered, “I’m crazy about you and want you more than anything,
but I’m not going to fuck you in this apartment at nine o’clock in the morning
with Culler Santos in the next room. Got it?”

“Got
it,” he replied. They glanced down at his growing erection. “I’d better go get
some pants on,” he said, hurrying into his bedroom.

When
he returned in gym shorts and a tee-shirt, he found her in the kitchen making coffee.
She was dressed in a pale green sundress which clung tightly to the curves of
her hips. “Is Culler up?” she asked.

“I
heard the water running in there. He should be out shortly.”

She
turned toward him, hands on hips, serious. “I told you you couldn’t get into
that warehouse.”

“I
know, I know…don’t rub it in, we had to try. I don’t like having to involve you
in this. The DDO wanted plausible denial, and with you we risk losing that.”

“Rothmann
knew that I would have to be a part of this. That’s why he put us together in
the first place. Otherwise, he would have sent you out here on your own with
only General Sawat to support you.”

“You’re
probably right.”

“I
am right.”

Culler
entered the kitchen, also dressed in gym shorts and a tee-shirt, but wearing
one of the longish wigs, a drooping Fu Man Chu moustache and large eyeglasses.
“How do I look?”

Charly
grinned. “If it weren’t for your ripped physique, I wouldn’t recognize you.”

He
plopped down in a chair at the table, removed the wig, moustache and glasses,
and sniffed the air. “That coffee smells great, Charly.”

“And
it’s ready.” She poured the coffee and served them orange juice, muffins and
bagels.

Mac
said, “It’s nice to have a galley slave to take care of us.”

“Don’t
get used to it, sailor. Now listen up – the reason for my early morning visit…”

“You
mean it’s not just to see that we get fed?” asked Culler.

“In
your dreams. We need to do some planning. I got a message from Vanquish last
night. He’s back in his village and wants to meet in the morning. I think you
guys should come with me. You should meet him and chat about doing your thing
without blowing his cover.”

“This
is the Hmong who used to work with Bill Lair. Security guy for their donkey
trains, right?” asked Culler.

“That’s
him. He’s a highly compartmented agent. No other case officer has ever met him.
He’s your best hope to get access to one of Khun Ut’s shipments. They bring the
stuff down from Ban Hin Taek to the warehouse in Mae Chan, the one you guys
shot up the other day.”

“Oh
yeah, that one,” said Mac.

“His
village is a couple kilometers east of Ban Hin Taek. It’s called Ban Rai, near
where you guys were when you were on the run. I meet him on a trail in the
woods near his village. He comes to the meetings on horseback.”

“What
time’s the meet?” asked Mac.

“Oh
seven hundred.”

 “How
are we going to get there?” asked Culler.

“I’ll
take you, but we should probably take your car. It’s the cleanest one we have
in the base inventory.”

Mac
calculated. “Then you’d better stay here tonight. What time will we have to
leave? Around four AM, right?”

“That’s
right. It’s close to a three-hour drive. Staying here probably wouldn’t be a
bad idea. Tell you what, I’ll come back this evening with some steaks, and we
can have dinner together. I can bunk right out there on that couch in the
living room. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds
like a plan,” said Mac. Culler nodded his approval.

“It’s
set then. I’ll see you back here after work, around six or seven. Dress
comfortably for the trip, and do something about your appearances. That
disguise you had on looks great, Culler. Mac, use the hair color and change
your appearance as well. If anything goes wrong…well, see you around seven.
Okay?”

She
was already at the door when they replied in unison. “Okay.”

Chapter Sixty-Nine

S
he
returned at seven, carrying a bag of groceries. Mac surprised her at the door
with a new head of freshly dyed, light brown hair.

The
men had spent the day cleaning and reloading their weapons, watching cable TV,
preparing their disguises, napping and generally hanging out.

Except
for one trip down to the garage to retrieve the automatic weapons and ammo,
they stayed out of sight in the apartment. They had already started cocktail
hour and were sitting at the kitchen table drinking vodka tonics when she
arrived.

Culler
relieved her of the groceries and placed the bag on the counter. Mac greeted
her with a hug and kisses on both sides of her face in the European style.

“You
look ten years younger without that grey hair, but not quite as distinguished.
And I see you’ve already started cocktail hour. Who’s the bartender tonight?”

“I
am,” said Mac. “We have vodka and vodka. Which would you prefer?”

“I
think I’d like a glass of red wine. There are two bottles of Bordeaux in the grocery
bag.”

Mac
opened the wine while Culler emptied the groceries and laid out the three
steaks on a plate. “How are we going to cook these?” he asked.

Charly
rolled her eyes. “I’ll take care of them. Have you ever heard of a broiler?”

“Nope,
I only know how to use an outdoor barbeque grill.”

“Of
course, I should have guessed.”

When
they were finished eating, they sat around the table for another hour leisurely
finishing off the wine and going over the planning for the meeting with
Vanquish in the morning.

They
studied a map of the region surrounding Ban Hin Taek and discussed the possible
routes the caravans could take from there down to Mae Chan. Charly traced the
routes with her index finger.

“The
entire trip is made off the roads through the forests of the highlands here,
and down through the jungle, here, to Mae Chan. And they rarely take the same
route twice. Here’s where we’ll meet up with Vanquish. There’s a meadow right
here off route 1234. It’s a dirt road at this point.”

It
was almost nine o’clock and the wine was gone. Charly stood up. “Okay guys,
time for beddy-bye. You guys hit the sack while I clean up this mess and do the
same. Mac, would you grab a couple of sheets and a pillow out of the linen
closet in the hall and drop them on the couch? Then I’ll see you all in the
morning. Three-thirty will come early.”

The
men said good night and  retired. Charly cleaned the kitchen and readied a
pot of coffee so that all she would have to do was flip the switch in the
morning. She brushed her teeth in the hall bathroom, undressed and crawled
between the sheets on the couch.

She
lay there quietly, eyes open looking up at the ceiling, thinking of the day
ahead—and of Mac in the next room.

She
glanced at her wrist watch. It was a little after ten. Except for the
occasional car and street sounds, and the humming of the air conditioner, it
was quiet. She wondered if they were asleep. She turned on her side and
continued to think of Mac.
Would he come out and join her on the couch? No,
he wouldn’t do that. He was probably already asleep. Probably, but…but what if
he was waiting for her? Probably not. They had to get up very early in the
morning, in less than six hours. Mac was always so damn mission oriented. Damn
him.

It
was warm and she threw back the sheet. Her body glowed in the moonlight. She
wore only bikini panties. She caressed her breasts and let her hand wander down
lower and felt the heat and wetness. She stroked and pushed and…
damn it
!

She
sat up and looked for several moments at Mac’s door. Then she stood up and
walked quietly to the door. It was ajar. She pushed it gently.
He did that
on purpose
, she thought. She pushed the door open just wide enough to slide
in and gently pushed it closed behind her. She stood there, staring at the bed,
letting her eyes become accustomed to the darkness.

“What
took you so long?” he said.

Chapter Seventy

T
hey
were awakened by the beep, beep, beep of her wristwatch alarm. She bolted out of
his bed, scooped up her panties from the floor, and hurried back to the couch
where she grabbed a sheet, wrapped it around her and darted into the hall
bathroom, thankful that Culler did not see her exit Mac’s bedroom.

The
three of them were on the road, coffee mugs in hand, thirty minutes later. Mac
had chosen a baseball cap and pair of sunglasses to go with his newly colored
hair; Culler was wearing sunglasses, a longish wig and matching Fu Man Chu
moustache.

Both
men were dressed in tennis shoes, jeans and untucked polo shirts to cover the
concealed H&K weapons. Charly was dressed similarly in jeans and tennis
shoes and a white blouse. Her PPK was in an ankle holster.

Charly
knew the streets of Chiang Mai well. She drove rapidly but cautiously. When she
hit the intersection of Route 109, she turned onto the highway and headed
toward Chiang Rai.

Culler
lay dozing across the back seat, while Charly and Mac chatted quietly in the
front.

They
made good time on the highway. Traffic was light in the early morning hours,
and the only hazards were the speeding trucks coming south, inevitably driving
in the middle of the road, forcing oncoming traffic to take evasive action.
Trucks ruled the highways and the drivers made their point every time they
drove a smaller vehicle onto the shoulder of the road.

They
passed quickly through Chiang Rai and headed due north on Route 110 toward Mae
Chan. They passed the road Mac and Culler had taken to enter the jungle and
begin their assault on Khun Ut’s warehouse. Mac pointed it out and said,
“That’s the road we took in and out of there. Pretty hairy experience and I’ve
got the wounds to prove it.”

“Are
you still bitching about that little scratch on your butt?”

“A
little sympathy would be in order.”

“And
that’s all you’re going to get from me—a little sympathy, very little.”

“You
are a cold-hearted wench.”

“That’s
what I’ve been told.”

Chapter Seventy-One

T
he
day before, at a little before noon, Khun Ut, Ung Chea and Paiboon met at the
Mae Chan warehouse to discuss what had happened there. They walked the
perimeter of the building, and Paiboon briefed the other two on his analysis of
what had transpired.

“Here
is where the two
farangs
climbed up the side of the ridge and began
their assault on our warehouse,” said Paiboon, indicating the edge of the ridge
and the rear of the warehouse. “They began their assault by sneaking through
the jungle from that direction, from where we found their car, and climbing up
from there. Then they surprised Michai who was posted over by those doors.”

“Was
he sleeping?” asked Khun Ut.

“We
don’t know. Maybe…but they were wearing jungle camouflage and using silent
weapons. Maybe he just didn’t see them. They shot him in the head? Very good
marksmen.”

Ung
Chea said, “They were very well equipped, boss. They used 5.56mm assault
weapons equipped with suppressors, and we think night vision as well. They were
very accurate and silent—like Ninjas.”

“
Mai
pen rai
,” said Khun Ut. “The point is these
farangs
are definitely
not amateurs. They are well trained and well equipped. We need to find out why
they were here and, more importantly, who sent them.”

“They
stole a brick of heroin, Khun Ut. We chased them away before they could steal
more. Maybe they were just thieves,” said Paiboon.

“Maybe,
maybe not. But I don’t think so. By the way, you said you recovered the brick.”

“Yes
sir, they dropped it during their escape. We found it on the trail and
recovered it. Kaset snorted some of it before he had a heart attack and died.”

“What
an idiot. Kaset got what he deserved. Heroin and exertion do not mix well. That
is what gave him the heart attack. Good work on getting it back, Paiboon. If
they were thieves, they got away empty handed.”

The
Cambodian was unconcerned about the demise of Kaset, but he was very concerned
about the two
farangs
. “I don’t think they were thieves. I think they
were CIA, boss. I have believed that from the start. I am certain they are the
same guys we met in the Wancome Hotel. Only the CIA has the capability and
motive to come after us like this.”

“
Mai,
mai
. Absolutely not. The CIA is impotent. This is not the same CIA that
chased my father across the border into Burma. I know the CIA very well. I have
studied this enemy very hard. It used to be strong but is now just another weak
bureaucracy in Washington. They have had their nuts cut off by their own
Congress. They would never authorize an operation like this. With all that
killing? Never.”