Plausible Denial (33 page)

What
he did know is that they would fly to Vientiane via Hong Kong and cross into
Thailand black, with the help of Colonel Sunthonwet. From there they would get
a car and drive back to the mountains surrounding Ban Hin Taek where they would
find a place to observe Khun Ut’s mountain retreat.

Long
periods of observation had worked for him before, helping him to devise a plan
in his head based on what he saw, but this time he knew he would not have time
for any long-term observation.

Once
he got there he hoped a plan of some sort would begin to emerge in his mind. He
knew that storming the place would be out of the question. The Thai army had
tried that once before when Khun Sa was ruling the drug trade and the firefight
that ensued lasted for several days and dozens of men lay dead at the
conclusion of the fight. As with Khun Sa, Khun Ut had the total support of his
mercenary army and the townspeople. 

This
attack would have to be surgical in nature. And for that, he was happy that
Bill Barker had urged him to bring along the Lapua sniper rifle. But taking out
Khun Ut from a distance with the rifle was one thing; getting Charly Blackburn
and Vanquish out of there safely was another matter. That was what he couldn’t
get his head around.

Chapter One Hundred-Eight

Vientiane, Laos

T
hey
booked seats in business class on a direct Cathy Pacific Airways flight from
Miami International Airport to Hong Kong, with a connecting flight to
Vientiane, Laos. The flight left Miami at seven in the evening.

MacMurphy
hated flying. Ever since the advent of the terrorist, flying had become
increasingly distasteful: too much ridiculous, inefficient and ineffectual
security, all in the name of political correctness.

But
once he boarded the aircraft and settled into his comfortable business class
seat, it was a good as it could be for the fourteen hour hop to Hong Kong.

He
was dressed in his usual traveling garb: dark blue Hickey-Freeman blazer, blue
button-down Brooks Brothers shirt, Levi 501 jeans and cordovan penny loafers.

Santos
was also dressed casually in a brown and tan checked sport jacket, jeans
(relaxed fit to cover his muscular thighs), white sport shirt and loafers. Their
carry-on luggage contained everything they would need to sustain them for a
week. They did not check any luggage – one less hassle for international
travel.

After
cocktails, a fair dinner consisting of small, four-ounce beef fillets with
roasted potatoes and vegetables, washed down with glasses of an unknown but
decent French Bordeaux wine, followed by an assortment of cheeses and more
wine, they were ready to sleep. They each popped a couple of Melatonin pills to
help them sleep and adjust to the jet lag, and settled in for the night.

In
Hong Kong they had a two hour and forty-five minute layover before connecting
for the short hop across the South China Sea and Vietnam to Vientiane. They
relaxed in the Cathy Pacific business lounge where they checked emails on their
laptops and freshened up before boarding the flight to their final destination.

In
Vientiane they took a cab directly to the Settha Palace Hotel. For security
reasons they had not made reservations, but the hotel was not full and the desk
clerk remembered them from their previous visit in August.

They
had been traveling for more than eighteen hours and it was one o’clock in the
morning in Vientiane. They checked in, took some more melatonin to help with
the jet lag, and crashed for the evening.

The
next morning MacMurphy was up early and used the hotel lobby phone to call
police Colonel Sunthonwet at his home in Nong Khai. Sunthonwet’s wife answered
and promised to pass a message on to her husband that Mac and his friend were
at the Settha Palace Hotel and would like to meet as soon as possible.

Colonel
Sunthonwet pulled up in front of the Settha Palace hotel in his police cruiser
one hour and twenty minutes later. He left his car parked conspicuously in the
driveway and strolled through the lobby of the hotel in full police uniform,
eliciting glances from hotel patrons and staff along the way.

He
found Santos and MacMurphy lingering over breakfast in the hotel coffee shop
and joined them at their table.

“I
did not expect to see you back so soon,” said Sunthonwet. “What a pleasure. How
can I be of service to you?”

After
exchanging pleasantries, MacMurphy said, “We need to get back to Thailand but
don’t want to get chopped in through Thai customs. Ummmm…we would rather not
have our names appear on any Thai visitor list. You understand…and we will need
transportation for a week or so…and, ummm…well, we would rather not rent a car
through a rental agency. You understand...”

He
paused and exchanged glances with Santos. “And, if you still have those two
H&K pistols, we would like to borrow them back as well. Can you arrange
that for us?”

There
was never a question that Colonel Sunthonwet would be well rewarded for filling
MacMurphy’s requests, and there was no doubt in MacMurphy’s mind that all of
his requests were doable and would be fulfilled by Sunthonwet with the utmost
discretion.

“Certainly,”
said Sunthonwet with a wave of the hand. “No problem. No problem at all.” He
leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You should know that there are
outstanding warrants for the arrest of two renegade
farangs
named
Humphrey and Callaway. I would not want anyone to confuse those two vicious
murderers with you two upstanding representatives of your country.” He winked
and settled back in his chair, knowing that his comment would most likely raise
the amount of the stipend he would receive for his cooperation and assistance.

Neither
Santos nor MacMurphy reacted to the colonel’s statement. A deadpan stare was
all he received. They did not take his remark as a threat, only that the
colonel wanted to show that he knew the score and the risks involved in helping
them, and that he expected to be generously rewarded for the risks he would be
taking on their behalf. It was just business…

“When
can we leave?” said Santos.

“As
soon as you are ready.”

Chapter One Hundred-Nine

T
hey
returned to their rooms, grabbed their bags and checked out of the hotel at the
front desk. Colonel Sunthonwet was waiting for them in the lobby, pacing back
and forth in front of the teak trimmed revolving doors at the entrance.

They
followed him to his police cruiser and loaded the bags in the trunk. The drive
to the Lao-Thai Friendship Bridge took a little over twenty minutes.

The
police cruiser was waved through the Lao customs check-point on the north side
of the bridge and they crossed into Thailand. When they reached the Thai
check-point on the south side of the bridge Colonel Sunthonwet rolled down his
window and summoned one of the uniformed customs police officers to the car.
They exchanged words and, after glancing into the car, the customs officer
waved them past.

Sunthonwet
drove them back to his villa in Nong Khai, located high on the banks
overlooking the Mekong. They stood chatting, looking down at the mighty river
from a sunny day room thirty feet above the water. A maid brought them a frosty
pitcher of lemonade and a plate of cookies and poured three glasses.

The
rainy season had ended in Thailand, but the river was still swollen from the
earlier monsoon rains. Despite the swift currents at this time of year,
children were happily swimming near the banks and diving into the muddy water
from Sunthonwet’s boat dock below them.

The
weather had begun to cool and it was a sunny and pleasant day. November through
February were indeed the best months to visit Thailand. It was far too hot from
March through July, and the monsoon rains of August through October only
brought added humidity to the region.

Colonel
Sunthonwet toasted them with his glass of lemonade and welcomed them back to
Thailand. Then, remembering something, he raised a finger in the air, set his
glass down and excused himself. Moments later he returned with the H&K
pistols, suppressors, and two holsters – concealment and leg – for each gun.

“These
guns are a dream,” he said. “I fired them at the range and was the envy of my
colleagues. They are clean, loaded and ready to go.”

MacMurphy
said, “I really appreciate this, Colonel. I assure you, you will get them back
when we leave.”

“And
when might that be? I do not wish to pry into your affairs, but for planning
purposes…”

“We
shouldn’t be gone for more than a week or so… We just…have to tie up a few
loose ends. I’ll call you here at your home to give you some warning before we
arrive. Then you can have these two beautiful pistols back.”

“Not
a problem. Except for a day trip or two to Bangkok, I do not plan to go
anywhere. I will be here for you. Is there anything else you need? You said you
will need transportation...”

“Yes,
we need a car. Not the Land Cruiser we left with you, a different vehicle.”

“Oh
yes, I left your Land Cruiser parked in the middle of town on Sa Dei Road near
the train station. After a few days one of my officers reported it abandoned
and had it towed to the police lot. We did a registration check and contacted
the owner in Bangkok who declared it had been stolen and came to retrieve it.
So the Land Cruiser is out of the question anyway.”

Mac
exchanged glances with Santos. “Good, that’s one loose end we don’t have to
worry about. Do you have something we could use? We would rather not rent one
from an agency for obvious reasons.”

“Not
a problem. Not a problem. I will lend you one of my cars. It is a Range Rover.
Only two years old. Very comfortable and will go anywhere you want. My wife
drives it, so it is like new.”

“That
would be perfect, Colonel. We’ll take very good care of it.” Mac glanced over
at Santos who rolled his eyes.

“I
am sure you will. It is my pleasure. Before I left the office I also prepared
something special for you.” Beaming from ear to ear, he handed MacMurphy a red,
pocked-sized folio with a police seal on the cover. MacMurphy unfolded it with
Santos looking over his shoulder. It looked very official with stamps and a
bold signature at the bottom, but Mac’s limited Thai did not permit him to read
it.

“Looks
great, but what does it say?”

“It
is basically, hum…how do you say it, a get out of jail free card. It says you
are under my personal protection and any policeman reading the card should give
you aid and assistance. That is what it says. If you get into any kind of
trouble you just show the folio to the police and they will help you. That is
it.”

“Very
nice,” said Mac. Culler whistled softly.

“Now,
I am sure you are anxious to get on your way and I must get back to my office.
Come, follow me, I will take you to your car.”

Santos
and MacMurphy followed Sunthonwet down through the entrance of the villa, where
they retrieved their luggage, and out to the garage. The Range Rover looked
brand new. It was black with black interior and had dark tinted windows.

Mac
said, “This is perfect, Colonel, you have been of great assistance and you are
a valued friend.”

They
threw their bags in the back and before they climbed into the Range Rover Mac
embraced Colonel Sunthonwet and they exchanged deep bows and
weis
. Mac
slipped the Colonel an envelope containing eight thousand dollars which the
colonel slid quickly onto his pocket without counting it.

And
then they were on their way…

Chapter One Hundred-Ten

T
hey
arrived back in Chiang Mai in the early evening and ate dinner at the Chokchai
Steakhouse on Singharat Road, about a mile from the safehouse. MacMurphy would
have preferred a lighter meal of traditional Thai food, but Santos claimed his body
needed red meat, and plenty of it, in order to continue.

After
dinner and a bottle of California cabernet, they completed their journey to the
safehouse. There they found the key taped over the door jam, and their gear and
weapons safely stashed in one of the bedroom closets. They took a couple more
melatonin to chase away the jet lag, and collapsed into bed.

Early
the next morning they dressed comfortably in boots, jeans and polo shirts,
loaded their gear and weapons into the back of the Land Rover, and took off for
Ban Hin Taek.

Santos
drove. Before they got too far out of Chiang Mai where cell phone reception was
spotty, MacMurphy called Maggie for an update.

It
was early evening in Ft. Lauderdale and Maggie was at home preparing dinner
when the call came through.

“Mac,
I’m glad you called. You arrived okay?” If she was still mad at him for
returning to Thailand, it was not evident in her voice.

“Hi
Maggie. Everything went fine. We had a good night’s rest and now we’re on our
way up north. Have you heard anything from the big man?”

“Yep,
he called yesterday. He confirmed that she’s still there at the villa with the
other fellow. He’s got the place under twenty-four hour observation – satellite
and he’s diverted the Base’s Porter to full time observation and photography
over the villa. He’s also listening to their telephone communications.”

“Great.
Glad he’s on top of it. What about…”

“He’ll
let me know if anything changes. He is still working with liaison to get them
out, but nothing has changed…”