Plausible Denial (30 page)

“You
got that right. Let’s get out of here
tout de suite
before someone
recognizes us. I’m sure every last one of these people has heard about the car
that blew up at the Orchid Lodge and the two
farangs
who were involved.”

Mac
glanced around him and his eyes fell on the Pak Essan Restaurant. “I’ve got an
idea.”

He
turned to the driver, held out another one hundred dollar bill, and in halting
Thai said, “Please go into that restaurant and ask if anyone would be
interested in taking your two friends to Chiang Mai while you fix your truck.
We will pay one hundred dollars for the ride, but we must leave immediately.”

The
driver happily pocketed the one hundred dollar bill and took off at a trot for
the restaurant.

“Those
hundred dollar bills sure work magic, don’t they?” said Culler.

“Money
is the best weapon there is – far better than guns and intimidation. But we’ll
see in a minute just how magical those Ben Franklins are. Try to stay out of
sight and keep your fingers crossed.”

A
few moments later a middle-aged, thin man dressed neatly in dark slacks, a
short sleeved white shirt and skinny dark tie came out of the restaurant with
the driver. They walked to where Culler and Mac were standing by the truck.

The
man put his hands together and bowed in greeting. “Hello,” he said in good
English, “my name is Sophon. I understand you want to go to Chiang Mai.” They
shook hands and exchanged respectful
wais.

“Yes,
Khun Sophon, and we are in a bit of a hurry because we do not want to miss our
flight. We need to get to Chiang Mai International Airport. Can you help us? We
can pay for the ride.” Mac held out a hundred dollar bill. “But we need to
leave now or we will be late.”

Sophon
eyed the bill suspiciously. “That is very generous. I just arrived from Chiang
Mai and am heading north, I do not know if…”

Mac
pulled another one hundred dollar bill from his pocket and held out two hundred
dollars. “We need to leave right away or we will miss our flight. If you can
not take us we will have to ask someone else.”

Sophon
smiled and took the bills. “Okay,
mai pen rai
, I can be a little late
today. Come with me.”

Culler
and Mac grabbed their bags, thanked the truck driver and followed Sophon to a
sixties vintage, but well maintained, black Chevy Impala sedan. They threw
their duffel bags in the back seat and Mac climbed in after them. Culler,
fidgeting with his wig and false moustache which was becoming uncomfortable and
unstuck in the heat, climbed in next to the driver.

Santos
asked, “How fast does this thing go? I used to have one just like it. Mine was
a convertible. That V-8 engine under the hood used to push it pretty fast.”

Sophon
smiled knowingly and gunned the old Impala up onto the highway and then south
in the direction of Chiang Mai. “Then you appreciate the old American cars as I
do, my friend. American cars ruled the roads all over the world in those days,
now you can not find an American automobile outside of the United States. What
happened?”

Culler
said, “Corporate arrogance, greedy unions, high manufacturing costs and poor
quality. That’s what killed the American automobile industry. But thankfully a
few of these old beauties still remain to remind us of the way things were.”

Sophon
laughed. “Yes, I admire all things American. I would like to visit some day. I
have relatives in San José. They have invited me to visit, but I have to sell a
lot of auto parts before I can afford the trip. And, well now I have a rather
large family that depends upon me. So that is another problem.”

Mac
chimed in from the back seat. “Save your money, Khun Sophon, and send one of
your children to school in the U.S. Then you will build your own ties and the
rest of you can follow later.”

“Yes,
you are right. My oldest will be ready for university in two years. He hopes to
get a scholarship and attend school in California near my relatives. That is
his dream, and mine.”

“Get
us to the airport in one piece and without being stopped and another one of
these one hundred dollar bills will be your tip – think of it as a kind of
advance on your son’s education,” said Mac.

“Can
do,” said Sophon, pressing his foot on the gas.

Chapter Ninety-Six

K
hun
Ut had tipped off the the Chiang Mai airport police and municipal police to be
on the lookout for the two Americans wanted for questioning in the car bombing
at the Orchid Lodge and the shooting death of two men at the Wangcome Hotel in
Chiang Rai.

The
alert flashed their descriptions and spelled out their names – Callaway and
Humphrey. Police all over Thailand, and especially in the north, were well
familiar with the descriptions of the two, by now infamous,
farangs
.

Instructions
were given to set up check points at the two main entrances of the airport.
Cars were to be stopped and the passengers visually inspected. Those vehicles
with
farangs
aboard were to be pulled over and detained. The papers of
all adult males would be inspected, and all suspects matching the descriptions
of the two suspects would be detained for further questioning.

Police
were warned that the two
farangs
were armed and extremely dangerous.

Roving
patrols of municipal police and airport security were instructed to cover the
departure gates, both foreign and domestic, and the parking garages as well as
all entrances and exits.

Seven
of Khun Ut’s men were sent to the airport to do their own independent
surveillance. They were in plain clothes, armed and led by Paiboon. They were
instructed to remain on the periphery and not interfere with the police, but to
monitor closely the police checks at the exits and entrances.  

The
police were scrambling to set up checkpoints at the entrances to the airport
when the old black four-door Impala carrying the two
farang
passengers
drove past them and entered the airport unchallenged.

Chapter Ninety-Seven

T
wo
police cars with sirens wailing and lights flashing came toward the black Chevy
as it pulled into the main entrance of the airport.

“Whoa!
What’s that all about?” said Santos. The two cars sped past and blocked the
entrance behind them.

Sophon
watched the two police cruisers in his rear view mirror while the two
farangs
reflexively slumped lower into their seats. “They are blocking the entrance to
the airport. Setting up a checkpoint. They do that when there is a security
alert of some kind.”

“Hmmm,”
said Mac with a glance at Santos. “They’re probably looking for terrorists.”

He
knew exactly what the commotion was all about, and said a silent prayer of
thanks to God for getting them there when He did, before the roadblock was set
up.

Santos
responded with a wide-eyed look and a nod that conveyed he was in total
agreement with his friend.

Mac
said, “Take the entrance to the main garage over there, where it says long-term
parking.”

Sophon
pulled into the garage, stopped at the automatic gate and took a ticket. The
bar raised and they entered. “Now continue driving up the ramp through the
garage toward the upper levels until I tell you to stop.”

They
passed the A, B, C, and D elevator banks on the lower level and then circled up
to the second level where they repeated the process, passing the A, B, and C
elevator banks.

They
passed the Land Cruiser just beyond the C elevator bank. When they reached the
end of the ramp near the D elevator bank they spotted two vacant spaces.

“Pull
in there. In that space,” ordered Mac, pointing in the direction of the nearest
space. Sophon did as he was told. Thus far they had not seen any security in
the garage. “Now lock the car and come with us.” Mac pulled another one hundred
dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to Sophon. “There is one more thing I
need you to do for us.”

Culler
looked quizzically at Mac, eyebrows raised, but said nothing. Mac gave him a
reassuring glance with a slight nod in return.

They
unloaded the car and walked together back toward the Land Cruiser. When they
reached it Mac unlocked the doors with the remote and they threw their duffle
bags in the back. Then he turned and handed Sophon the keys.

Mac
said, “I want you to drive us out of here, Sophon. I don’t know who the police
are looking for, but I have a hunch they are looking for a couple of
farang
drug dealers. Not us, but I heard something about it on the radio earlier today
and I don’t want us to be stopped and questioned. Will you help us?”

“Of
course,” said Sophon, clearly worried. “But I thought you were taking a flight
out of here.”

“We’re
too late.” Mac glanced at his watch. “Our flight leaves in ten minutes. We will
have to come back tomorrow. We tried, but didn’t make it here on time.”

Sophon’s
face showed disbelief, but all he said was: “Okay, but how will I get back to
my car?”

“We’ll
drop you at a taxi stand in town and you can take a cab back, Okay?”

Culler
and Mac crawled into the back seat of the Land Cruiser. Mac slid his H&K
pistol from the holster at the small of his back and indicated to Culler to do
the same. The gesture was unnecessary, as Culler already had his pistol out and
by his leg. They kept the weapons low and out of sight but at the ready.

“We’re
going to slouch down on the floor so no one sees us,” said Mac. “The parking
ticket is in the ashtray in front of you. Just get us out of here safely.”

Mac
pulled a one thousand baht note out of his pocket and held it out over Sophon’s
shoulder in the front seat. “Here, this should cover the parking charges. Keep
the change.”

Sophon
nervously stuffed the ticket and the one thousand baht note into his shirt
pocket, backed out of the parking space and headed down toward the garage exit.
When they reached the first floor of the garage they passed two airport police
officers walking up on either side of the ramp. Sophon slowed and waved at them
and they stepped aside and waved the Land Cruiser past after noting only a lone
Thai driver in the car.

When
they reached the garage exit one of the two toll booths was closed and the
remaining one had two cars backed up in front of them waiting to pay. Sophon
spoke softly over his shoulder to the men in the back. “There is only one
attendant on duty. Only one booth open. Two police officers are inspecting the
car that is paying at the booth.”

Culler
and Mac were down low on the floor, pistols at the ready. Mac, who was directly
behind the driver whispered to Sophon. “Keep all of the windows up until you
reach the booth. The Land Cruiser is high, so they won’t be able to see us
unless they get very close and look directly inside and down. Act natural and friendly
and let us know if they decide to look into the back seat.”

All
Santos could think of at the moment was that he wished he had taken the
suppressors for the .45 caliber pistols out of the bags before they got into
the backseat. If they had to shoot their way out of this mess they were going
to make a hell of a lot of noise, and that wouldn’t help matters at all.

The
first car finished paying and pulled away and the car immediately in front of
the Land Cruiser pulled up to the booth.

Chapter Ninety-Eight

P
aiboon
was stationed at the side of the road about forty feet from the exit of the
garage. Another one of his men was stationed directly across the street from
him. Both were dressed casually in dark slacks and light, untucked short
sleeved shirts. Their weapons were concealed under the shirts. They intently
monitored the police checking the cars exiting the garage.

Paiboon
felt a rush as the big white Land Cruiser pulled up to the booth. There
appeared to be only one person in the vehicle – a Thai driver – but something
spooked him. Something was not right.

He
watched the driver pay the attendant through the open window and wait for his
change while the two police officers casually walked the length of the Land
Cruiser on either side from front to back, looking disinterestedly through the
windows.   

What
is it?
His mind raced back in time.
What is it about that vehicle?

The
driver collected his change, rolled up the window and pulled out onto the
airport exit road.

Then
it dawned on him.
The two farangs had used a large white SUV in their
escape. This was the type of vehicle that the villagers in San Sai said had
picked them up behind the abandoned charcoal factory on the outskirts of Chiang
Mai.

Paiboon
stepped off the curb out onto the street and started jogging toward the slowly
moving vehicle, waving his hand and shouting for it to stop. His eyes locked on
the driver’s and he saw pure, unadulterated wide-eyed fear.

Paiboon
reached the side of the SUV just at the moment the driver swerved and gunned
the engine, almost knocking Paiboon off of his feet.

The
SUV sped down the exit ramp and headed out onto the highway.

Paiboon
screamed at the two police officers. “That is their car. They are in that Land
Cruiser. You did not check the inside. Alert the police to go after them.”

The
nearest police officer glanced at his partner in disbelief and then turned
toward Paiboon. “We did check. There was only one person in the vehicle. And if
you continue shouting at us I will personally arrest you right here. Now shut
up and let us do our job.”