Plausible Denial (25 page)

Mac
laughed. “How about I give him a call and ask him what he can do. Maybe he’s
got a driver or a taxi or something. Then we could leave the Land Cruiser here
and keep this place secure. We’re going to need a place to come back to, and we
certainly can’t pitch up in a hotel any longer.”

Charly
stood up, downed the last of her white wine and set the empty glass down on the
table.

“Well
then, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll get dinner started. I picked
up some pasta for us. Figured you would need a carb load before embarking on
your adventure—without me.”

She
reached down to her bag and dug out her GPS unit. “You’ll need this to keep
track of Vanquish. Don’t lose it and don’t forget to return it when you get
back. It’s the only one we have to track him.”

Starting
to the kitchen, Charly turned back to the men.

“I
just don’t want to go home tonight. I want to stay here, with both of you. I
have a bad feeling about this.” 

Chapter Seventy-Eight

C
harly
cooked a delicious dinner of pasta and salad.  When they finished eating,
Culler stood up, offered a fake yawn, excused himself and retired for the
evening.

They
all seemed to catch Charly’s feelings of foreboding—or perhaps it was just
normal pre-operational jitters—but something hung heavy in the air.

Charly
and Mac made love slowly and passionately, with an intensity and a feeling of
apprehension they had never experienced before. Afterward, they lay in each
other’s arms quietly for a long time, caressing one another. Neither wanted to
sleep. Neither wanted the night to end.

Charly
left early in the morning and took a taxi directly to the consulate where she
had left her car. She had a full day at the office in front of her, having been
away from her desk for the past few days; the cable traffic was piled high on
her desk.

Mac
called General Sawat who agreed to pick them up on the third level near the “D”
elevators in the parking garage at Chiang Mai International Airport. The
meeting was arranged for eight that evening, after dark and when the airport
was still fairly busy with flight activity.

Mac
planned to park the Land Cruiser somewhere near the pickup point and to haul
whatever they needed in the two green duffel bags. They decided to dress
casually in blue jeans, running shoes, short-sleeved shirts and, of course,
their light disguises.

General
Sawat was alerted that he may not recognize them at first, though that did not
concern him in the least. He agreed to park his car, which he described as a
black late-model Mercedes sedan, next to the elevator bank and wait for a knock
on his window at exactly eight o’clock.

Culler
urged Mac to ask the general to leave Noi and Ling Ling at home, but Mac
demurred, citing the need for rapport with the general over Culler’s
sensitivities. When Culler argued that it would be more secure if Noi and the
dog did not come along, Mac replied, “It is what it is,” adding that the
general might leave them at home anyway, since they would be driving half the
night.

They
spent their day organizing their gear, packing and re-cleaning and checking and
reloading their weapons, and resting and watching the local news on TV. The
police were still looking for the two Americans, Humphrey and Callaway, who had
shot up the Wangcome Hotel in Chiang Rai and had rented the car that was blown
up in Chiang Rai, although the reportage was far less frequent than before.
There was still no mention of the shoot-out in the warehouse in Mae Chan.

Chapter Seventy-Nine

T
hey
fortified themselves with an early dinner, put on their light disguises, loaded
the two duffle bags into the back of the Land Cruiser and headed for the
airport.

They
parked their vehicle on the second level of the main parking garage, close to
the “D” elevators, waited until one minute before eight, grabbed their bags and
took the elevator up to the third level. The black Mercedes was waiting for
them at the curb.

“
Sawatdee
khrap
,” said the General as Mac and Culler piled into the back seat with
their bags. He giggled, “You look different than before.”

“
Sawatdee
khrap
,” they replied. The car was filled with the strong scent of Noi, who
was sitting in the front seat with Ling Ling at her breast.

“
Sawatdee
Ka. Sabai dee mai
?”  Noi said with a
wai
. The dog barked when
she saw Culler.

“
Sabai
dee
,” said Mac.

“We’re
fine,” said Culler, who barked back at the dog.

The
doors slammed shut and the General hit the gas. “Where are we headed,
gentlemen? The border maybe? You fellows are quite famous, you know.”

“Yes,
we know,” said Mac. “But we’re not leaving quite yet. We have another small job
to do. Head north toward Chiang Rai and I’ll direct you from there.” Mac passed
him an envelope. “This is for a round trip up north. I hope it is
satisfactory.”

The
general drove with one hand while stuffing the envelope in his shirt pocket. “It
feels very thick. I am sure it is quite generous. What do I have to do for
this?”

“Just
get us safely up north. I’ll direct as we go, and then we will need you to pick
us up in a day or two and bring us back here,” said Mac.

“You
are not going to Mae Chan by any chance, are you? Maybe shoot the place up
again?”

Mac
and Culler glanced at one another in the back seat. “What did you hear about
Mae Chan?” asked Mac.

The
General cackled. “
Mai pen rai
. I hear about everything, my friend. I knew
it was you two guys the minute I heard about it. Khun Ut knows it was you as
well. But trust me, I did not tell him. He figured it out for himself.”

“What
else did he figure out?” asked Mac.

“From
what I have heard—and I have very good sources, you know—he knows you two guys
are out to get him, but he can not figure why. He thinks maybe you are CIA. Are
you CIA?”

Leaning
forward, Culler put his hand on Sawat’s shoulder. “Let’s just hold off on all
the speculation. Let’s just say we’re the good guys and they’re the bad guys
and leave it at that. Okay?”

“Okay,
okay…no problem. I was just asking.”

Culler
spoke forcefully, but quietly. “That’s the point, General Sawat, don’t ask. You
came recommended to us as a person of some integrity. Someone who would respect
the privacy of his clients. Someone who would not play both sides at the same
time. If that’s true, we will all get along just fine. You will make money and
be safe. If not, well, let’s just say there will be severe consequences.”

Noi
looked at him with wide eyes and squeezed the dog closer to her chest, making
the mutt whine.

Sawat
pulled out onto the highway and floored the Mercedes, as if to say,
I’m
getting the hell out of here before this guy loses it.
“Do not worry about
a thing,” he said. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I
certainly hope so,” said Santos, leaning back into the soft leather cushions of
the Mercedes.

Mac
broke the tension. “Keep driving north through Chiang Rai and then head for the
border town of Wan La Ba. Do you know it?”

“Yes,
of course. I know it quite well. How fast do you want to get there? This car is
equipped with blue police lights and a siren. We can go very fast if you want.”

“No,
no,” Mac shook his head. “Just get us there safely and quietly, without drawing
attention to ourselves. We’re not in any great hurry.”

Chapter Eighty

T
hey
pulled into Wan La-ba almost three hours later. Mac directed the general to the
abandoned filling station. The bright half moon in the star-filled sky
illuminated the area, showing it to be quiet and deserted.

The
Mercedes pulled slowly to the rear of the gas station, its tires crunching on
the gravel, and stopped out of sight of the road.

General
Sawat cut the engine and lights. “Okay, what next?”

Noi
whined, “I’m scared, Daddy, and so is Ling Ling. I do not want to stay here. It
is too scary and dark.
Mai sabai
.”

“
Mai
pen rai
. It is okay, baby, we will not be here long. We are just dropping
off our friends.”

Mac
and Culler grabbed their duffel bags and stepped out of the car. “We’re good,”
said Mac. “We will be calling for a pickup in about thirty-six hours. Thanks
for the lift. Please keep close to your cell phone, and be prepared to pick us
up right here.”

“You
call and I will be here. You can count on it,” said the general.

“We’ll
count on it, that’s for sure,” said Culler with a menacing glare.

They
slammed the doors shut and took off at a trot for the edge of the jungle,
duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Sawat slammed the Mercedes in reverse
and hit the gas. Then he reversed gears and spun out onto the road, spitting
gravel behind him. He hit the switch for the blue police lights and was gone,
zooming back to Chiang Mai.

Once
inside of the tree line, Culler and Mac slowed to a walk and let their eyes adjust
to the darkness. Mac checked his GPS while Culler looked over his shoulder.

“Let’s
find a good spot about a kilometer from here to hide our bags and civvies and
change into boots and Ghillie-suits. After we cache our gear, we should turn
almost due west to this point here, by the bend in the stream. That’s where
we’ll look for a good spot to wait for Vanquish and his caravan. We’ll have
lots of time to reconnoiter the area.”

He
set the way-points in on the GPS, hefted his duffle bag up on his shoulder, and
headed down into the jungle. Culler followed close behind, stuffing his
disguise moustache, wig and glasses into his shirt pocket.

After
they found a spot to cache their bags near the base of a huge banyan tree, they
changed, snacked on a couple of power bars, drank some water and checked their
weapons one last time before heading west toward the rendezvous point with
Vanquish.

They
moved silently and slowly, using their night vision gear to pick their way
through the heavy undergrowth. They figured it would take them about five hours
to travel the five kilometers to reach the rendezvous point ahead of them. They
were in no hurry. They would sleep when they got there around dawn.

Chapter Eighty-One

P
aiboon
was excited. It was the first time the Cambodian had trusted him enough to
allow him to do anything other than routine guard duty. He was tired of being
stuck doing boring security rounds at the warehouse or one of the other
installations owned by Khun Ut.

The
only time he had ever experienced any excitement in his job was during the
attack on the warehouse by the two
farangs
. That attack had fortuitously
resulted in his promotion to chief of security at the warehouse and, now this,
his first stakeout: his first real operational job.

He
was sorry about the unfortunate deaths of his colleagues, but he wouldn’t have
gotten to his current position if the attack hadn’t happened.

He
was now on the fast track in Khun Ut’s organization, and he was most certainly
getting an adrenaline rush on this job, even though he had been sitting there
at the side of the road with the motor running for more than an hour already.

He
sat at the wheel of a long, black stretch limo, wearing a shirt and tie, dark
suit and chauffeur’s cap. He had an important job—maybe the most important job
of the entire mission.

The
Cambodian had given him very specific instructions. He was to sit patiently at
the side of the narrow, wooded road in the residential neighborhood, ostensibly
waiting for someone, until signaled by the Cambodian to pull out onto the road
and block it. The stretch limo would easily block both lanes of traffic.

Once
the road was blocked, he would exit the vehicle, raise the hood and stand by
the side of the road with his cell phone at his ear pretending to call for
help. The Cambodian and the other guys would take care of the rest.

While
sitting there alone in the limo in the early morning hours, he reflected on his
conversation with the Cambodian at the warehouse earlier in the day. It was the
conversation that had stimulated the Cambodian to invite him on this mission.

He
had told the Cambodian about the birthday party he had attended with his family
over the weekend. During the party his sister had told him that one of her
girlfriends, the mistress of retired police General Sawat, was upset about the
visit of two
farangs
to their villa. The girlfriend had complained
bitterly about one of the
farangs
, a large muscular man, who had
threatened her precious little dog.

The
Cambodian had listened intently to Paiboon’s story, congratulating him on his
ability to recognize the importance of such a seemingly innocuous story.

“So,”
the Cambodian had said, nodding his head approvingly, “General Sawat is helping
the two
farangs
. That is important information, Paiboon. I want you to
find out more from your sister, and we will pay her generously for her
cooperation. I will inform Khun Ut about this immediately.” He embraced
Paiboon, the first time he had ever done that.

Paiboon’s
earpiece squawked, jerking him out of his reverie. “She’s up. The lights just
went on. Stand by.” It was the voice of the Cambodian.

Chapter Eighty-Two