Plausible Denial (29 page)

Then
he had an idea…

He
ran back to where Culler was hiding with the bags and opened his duffle bag.

“What
are you doing?” Culler asked.

“Getting
some money,” Mac replied. He pulled a wad of $100 bills out of the bag and
hurried back toward the road.

He
waited and waited, sweating and pacing up and down the side of the road,
glancing at his watch every few moments. They had to get moving.

He
heard it before he saw it – a large truck growling and grinding gears was
heading toward them from the north. He stepped out into the middle of the road
and held out a fan of green $100 bills and waved them at the driver.

The
truck, loaded with burlap bags full of charcoal, rounded the curve and the
driver dropped it down a gear and hit the accelerator. Mac barred his way,
waving both hands for him to stop and holding the money up high so the driver
could see.

At
first it appeared the truck was going to run him down, but then Mac could see
the driver’s eyes widen when he saw the money.

The
driver hit the brakes and brought the truck to a screeching halt in the middle
of the road inches in front of Mac.

Mac
walked around to the driver’s side, still holding the money in his hand in
front of him and waving it at the driver. “
Sawatdee khrap
,” said Mac
with a deep
wai
.

The
puzzled driver, covered in charcoal dust, replied, “
Sawatdee khrap
,” and
returned the
wai
hesitatingly.

In
halting Thai and with gestures, Mac indicated he needed a lift south and handed
the driver one of the hundred dollar bills. The driver took the bill with wide
eyes and nodded while regarding the remaining bills in Mac’s hand quizzically.

Mac
called to Culller who came running toward them carrying both duffle bags. When
the driver flinched, he removed another one of the bills and handed it to the
driver. The driver was catching on. He gave Mac a grateful
wei
and said,
“
Khrap khoon khrap.”

“
Mai
pen rai, khrap
,” said Mac.

Culler
and Mac climbed onto the dusty long wooden bench that served as a front seat
for the old truck and slid in next to the driver. They stowed their duffle bags
under their feet and the driver pulled out, gears grinding, heading south. They
were glad to be on their way out of Wan La-ba.

The
driver drove like a maniac, hogging the middle of the road and forcing oncoming
traffic off onto the shoulders of the road to avoid him.

Like
most Thai truck drivers, he chewed the mildly narcotic betel nut to help keep
him awake and to relieve the boredom of driving. He spat the brown betel nut
juice out his window like a cowboy.

The
spray annoyed Culler but he said nothing, happy to have finally gotten a lift
out of Wan La-ba.

Mac
used his limited Thai vocabulary to engage the driver in polite conversation
while they careened down the highway. The driver was surprised and happy to
chat with a
farang
in Thai. He smiled broadly showing a mouthful of
teeth blackened by years of betel nut.

Mac
learned that the driver was headed for
Krung Thep
– Bangkok – with a
load of charcoal collected from northern villages. That was good news. It meant
he would be driving straight through Chiang Mai. The driver agreed to drop them
off at the airport in Chiang Mai on his way.

Mac
rewarded him with another $100 bill. The driver beamed and thanked him
profusely. He was holding more money in his hand than he had seen in his entire
life. He was deeply grateful for the luck he was experiencing today. The driver
reached up and rubbed the belly of the jade Buddha which dangled from his rear
view mirror.

Chapter Ninety-Three

I
t
was close to noon when the charcoal truck reached the outskirts of Chiang Rai.
Culler and Mac slouched down in the uncomfortable hardwood bench which doubled
as a front seat, trying to keep out of sight. Soon they would be at the airport
in Chiang Mai. They could not relax until they had retrieved their vehicle and
were safely back at their safehouse apartment.

The
driver was making good time, contentedly chewing his betel and keeping the
accelerator of the old truck to the floor. They prayed they would get there safely
without an accident. They didn’t want anything else going wrong.

Mac’s
cell phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. He glanced at the caller ID
and recognized the Sawat’s number. He looked over at Culler, giving him a
slight nod, and answered, “Hello.”

“Hello
Mr. Humphrey. This is General Sawat. I am here at the petrol station but I do
not see you.”

Mac
could hear the sound of the helicopter’s prop churning and the nervousness in
the general’s voice. “I’m very sorry, General Sawat. We’re on our way but we’ve
had a slight mishap. Mr. Callaway has injured his ankle and it’s taking us
longer than we expected to get out of here. Please wait for us. We should be
there within the hour. I’m very sorry to keep you waiting.”

There
was a long pause before the general answered, “Okay, okay, Mr. Humphrey. I will
wait for you here.” Then another pause and, “You are in the jungle, correct?
And will be coming out at the same spot…”

“Of
course. Just stay there and wait for us. We’re moving slowly because, well, it
looks like Mr. Callaway has broken his ankle. He’s in great pain and can’t move
very fast. We’ll be there shortly. Please be patient and wait for us. We’re on
our way. Okay?”

“Okay,
Mr. Humphrey. I will wait for you right here. Goodbye.”

“Thank
you General Sawat. See you soon. Goodbye.”

Mac
glanced over at the driver for any indication he had understood anything that
was said. There was none. The driver’s bleary eyes were fixed on the road ahead
of him. All of his attention was focused on getting his truck to Bangkok as
soon as possible so he could begin celebrating with his newfound wealth.

Mac
leaned close to Culler and spoke in hushed tones. “That should buy us enough
time to get to the airport, collect the Land Cruiser and get out of there
before he realizes we’ve tricked him.”

“I
certainly hope so, because if he’s betrayed us, he knows our ultimate
destination. You told Sawat you wanted him to take us back to the airport and
you can bet the farm he conveyed that information to Khun Ut.”

“You’re
right. Shit. No doubt about it.”

The
words were no sooner out of his mouth when the truck’s right front tire blew
and the wide-eyed driver nursed the wobbling old wreck to the side of the road
and rolled to a stop.  

Chapter Ninety-Four

T
ell
me exactly what he said.” The Cambodian, sat next to General Sawat in the front
seat of the helicopter, rotor chomping the air above them. He emphasized the
word “exactly.”

“He
said they are running behind schedule. The big one broke his ankle and they are
moving slowly but are on their way.”

“Do
you believe that?”

“Yes,
of course. Why should I not believe them? They know nothing about you. They
will come out of the woods right here where they said they would. They will not
get lost. This is where they went in, and this is where they will come out.”

The
Cambodian stared at Sawat for a long time, looking for a sign of duplicity. But
there was none.

Sawat
was a beaten, humbled man. It hadn’t taken much to turn him. Only a few hard
blows and the threat of a painful death – and that he would slice off Noi’s
gorgeous breasts and feed them to him, fried with sticky rice and curry sauce,
for his last meal.  

“Okay,
turn this thing off and stay here where they can see you when they come out of
the woods. And don’t do anything stupid, old man, my men have you and this
whole area surrounded, and you will be the first to die if you betray us.”

The
general cut the engine and sat back in his seat to wait. Ung Chea jumped down
and slammed the door shut behind him. He pulled his walkie-talkie from his belt
and spoke into it as he jogged out of sight around the front of the filling
station.

“Okay,
settle in and stay out of sight. They are running late. Keep your eyes open and
do not fire until they are out in the open and you have a clear shot. And make
sure you get both of them. They will exit from the north behind the junk yard
and head toward the helicopter. You will have plenty of time so don’t rush
things. Be patient and stay down and out of sight.”

One
by one his men responded in acknowledgement.   

He
sat down on the ground in a doorway and lit a cigarette. After collecting his
thoughts, he called Khun Ut and relayed what had happened.

“…so
I have eight men deployed around the area. They are well concealed around the
edge of the woods and will cut the
farangs
down when they come out into
the open. Sawat is in his helicopter in plain view as a decoy, but they will
never get that far.”

“Are
you sure they are still in the jungle?”

“Sir,
um, I think so. I heard Sawat speaking to them. I mean, that is what they said.
They are just delayed because the big one broke his ankle.”

“Maybe,
but then again, maybe not. Do not believe everything people tell you, Ung Chea,
especially those guys. They can be very tricky. Are you certain they do not
suspect anything? Did Sawat act completely normal while he was talking to
them?”

“I,
I think so, sir. Maybe he was a little nervous and out of breath because I had
to smack him around a bit, but nothing he said was out of the normal. I guess
it’s possible they could be tipped off, but, I don’t know…”

“I
hope you didn’t knock him around too much. General Sawat is a wily old fox and
when he is cornered he will tell the truth – maybe not the whole truth, but the
truth just the same. I owe him a lot.”

“No
sir, I did not know. What could you possibly be in his debt for?”

“He
saved my father’s life. Twice, actually.”

“Twice?
Really? How did he do that?”

“The
first time happened in the early eighties when the new Thai Prime Minister,
General Prem, and the CIA got together to launch a secret bombing raid on my
father’s headquarters in Ban Hin Taek. It was planned in such secrecy that even
the pilots thought they were going on a routine live fire training mission.
They had no idea what they were about to do. Not until they were in the air
were they given the coordinates of my father’s house and told to destroy it.

“But
Sawat – he was a police colonel in charge of the Northern Thailand District at
the time – heard the order to divert the bombers and immediately informed Khun
Sa, who managed to escape only moments before the bombs began to land.”

“Wow!
Yes, I heard about that raid, but I did not know it was Sawat who tipped off
Khun Sa. I am sorry I had to rough him up.”

“Yes,
it was Sawat. He saved my father again two years later when another Thai Prime
Minister, General Chavalit, tried a similar secret raid on my father’s
headquarters. Sawat’s tip saved my father once again. Very few people know that
it was Sawat who gave us those tips. So I owe the man a lot.”

“Yes,
now I understand, Khun Ut.”

“But
do not worry, Ung Chea, you did the right thing. Just do not overdo it with the
old man. Loyalty is of great value to me and it works both ways. I do not
consider that Sawat has been disloyal. Not yet anyway. He just works for those
who pay him…but that said, you may be correct in thinking he has tipped them
off. Inadvertently or on purpose. So…maybe we should alert the police to the
possibility that they may have made their own way to the airport, if that is
where they are headed.”

“Yes
sir. Good idea. That is where Sawat picked them up and that is where they said
they wanted to return. Maybe they are taking a flight out of there.”

“Or
maybe they have a car parked there or maybe they have someone waiting to pick
them up. Anyway, I’ll alert the police at Chiang Mai International Airport to
be on the lookout for them. They are wanted criminals and the police will
welcome the tip. I’ll also send a couple of our guys from Chiang Mai to look
for them. It may be unnecessary, but better to be on the safe side.”

“Thanks,
boss. I’ll keep you posted on what is going on here.”

Chapter Ninety-Five

F
uck!”
said Santos, pounding his fist on the dashboard. “Fucking Murphy’s Law. if
something can go wrong, it will. Let’s get the fucking tire changed. Quick.
He’s got a spare, right? Please tell me he’s got a spare.”

Mac
spoke with the driver, who shook his head, and then turned to Culler. “Sorry,
no spare…”

“Got
any other great ideas?”

“We
need to hitch another ride.”

They
were on the outskirts of Chiang Rai when the tire blew. The highway was lined
with small, one story shops and noodle restaurants with corrugated steel roofs
and flaking paint. It was lunchtime and a number of cars and trucks were parked
in front of the businesses near the side of the road.

One
restaurant near them had a large neon sign over the door spelling out the name
“Pak Essan.” It appeared to be more upscale than the rest and several cars were
parked directly in front of it.

They
recognized the area immediately. The Orchid Lodge, where they had stayed and
met the young American couple, was a few hundred meters down the road.

The
three of them jumped out of the truck and stood looking disgustedly down at the
flat tire. Mac said, “This place brings back bad
memories.”