Plausible Denial (35 page)

MacMurphy
drove slowly past the entrance until he was out of sight of the guards. He then
turned the Range Rover around and drove past one more time, studying the
mountain directly across the valley from it.

“See
that tall mountain up there on the other side of the valley? That’s Doi Tung
Mountain, one of the tallest in the area – almost fourteen hundred meters high.
Near the top on the other side, you can’t see it from here, is the Doi Tung
Royal Villa.”

“My,
you are a font of information. You must have done your homework.”

“How
did you guess? Never go into a situation without thoroughly researching it
first, Mr. Santos.”

MacMurphy
pulled off the side of the road near the entrance of the Ting Ting Restaurant.
It was a modern looking Thai restaurant with fresh varnish and paint and a rock
garden with a gurgling carp filled stream in front of the entrance. The number
of cars parked out front indicated it was a popular place to eat.

“Are
we going to eat here?” asked Santos.

“Always
thinking of something to eat when there’s work to be done. No, we’re going to
stretch our legs a bit and take a longer look at this side of Doi Tung
Mountain. The only thing you are going to get to eat tonight will be our usual
granola bars and water.”

“Great…”

They
stopped the car and got out. Culler joined Mac on the side of the car and they
looked up at Doi Tung.

Mac
pointed at the top of the mountain. “See that big flag on the top? That’s how
the mountain got its name. Doi Tung means flag mountain.”

“My,
my, two more Thai words you know.”

“Yep.
The Doi Tung Royal Villa, which once belonged to the now-deceased mother of
King Bhumibol Adulyadej, is also located high up on the other side.

“There’s
a narrow road leading up there. We can drive up at least that far. That’s the
good news. There is also a temple, the Wat Phra That Doi Tung, on the top of
the mountain near the flag. You can’t see it from here because it looks out
over Burma in the other direction. There must be at least a foot path going up
from the Royal Villa to the temple.”

“Okay,
so what are we doing on this side of the mountain then?”

“I’m
trying to find a good place for us to set up with a good line of sight to Khun
Ut’s villa. We’re going to have to go up the mountain on the other side and
then drop down to this side. But we need to find a good place to set up the
Lapua. It should be a little higher than the villa so we are shooting down, but
not too much, and we also need good cover because we may be spending a few days
there.”

Mac
pointed to a spot about two-thirds up on the side of the mountain. “I’m looking
at that rocky ledge over there. See it?”

“Yeah,
I see it. About where the jungle ends and the forest begins. The whole top of
the mountain is covered in evergreen trees. It must be cold up that high.”

“Yep,
it gets pretty chilly in the evenings up that high. We won’t be doing much
sweating once we get into position up there. That’s why they built the Princess
Mother’s villa up so high, to escape the heat in the days before air
conditioning.”

Santos
looked back and forth between the rocky ledge on Doi Tung Mountain across the
valley to Khun Ut’s villa. “That’s going to be a very long shot, Mac. It looks
to be about a mile across.”

“That’s
what I guess it to be. Maybe a little less. But the Lapua ought to handle it…”

Chapter One Hundred-Thirteen

T
he
two men drove back out of Ban Hin Taek the way they had come. When they reached
the base of Doi Tung they circled around the southern end of the mountain and
turned back north toward Mae Sai on the eastern side of the mountain.

It
was dark when they pulled into the little town of Mae Sai. The main street was lined
with touristy souvenir shops and small restaurants. Santos’s stomach started to
rumble at the thought of food.

“Mac,
my stomach thinks my throat’s cut. Would it be too much to ask if we pulled
over to one of those noodle shops to get one last decent meal before we embark
on our next jungle adventure?”

Mac
Laughed. “I suppose people are used to seeing
farang
tourists in this
town, and I could use a little real sustenance myself. A beer would be great. I
guess we can risk a short stop.”

He
pulled off the side of the road in front of the Sorn Daeng Noodles Restaurant
and they went inside. Red plastic covered banquets lined the sides of the
narrow little restaurant and, after making eye contact with the young waitress
dressed in a red and gold native sarong and nodding toward an empty banquet
near the door, they slid into the seats.

The
little restaurant was half full with an assortment of working class Thai men
and women. They were the only
farangs
in the place, but no one seemed to
notice. Everyone seemed to be deeply engaged in noisily slurping noodles from
the bowls in front of them. The sound of wailing Thai music played softly in
the background.

When
the waitress arrived they ordered the house special noodles with shrimp and
crab and two bottles of Amarit Beer.

Santos
ate like it was his last meal, loudly slurping his noodles like a native.
MacMurphy pushed his noodles around the bowl absentmindedly and sipped on his
beer.

“I
don’t know, Culler. I still have no idea how we’re going to get Charly and
Vanquish out of there.”

“Relax,”
said Culler. “Maybe we can and maybe we can’t.” He sucked in a long string of
noodles and wiped his chin. “The fact is maybe there is nothing we can do for
them. We’re going to be a mile away with a sniper rifle. That’s not exactly a
prescription for breaking anyone out of jail. Hell, maybe the DDO will come up
with some bright idea, or maybe Khun Ut will move them out of there.”

MacMurphy
took a long drink from his Amarit bottle and stopped, the bottle still at his
lips. Then he looked directly at Santos and slowly sat the bottle down in front
of him. “That’s it!”

“What’s
it?”

“Maybe
Khun Ut will move them out of there. You said it. If they move them out of the
villa, maybe that will give us an opportunity. Actually, maybe we could cause a
disturbance of some kind that will give them an opportunity to break free.”

“How
are you going to do that? Call up Khun Ut and suggest it? Hey, Khun Ut, would
you do me a favor? Come on…”

“General
Sawat.”

“What
about General Sawat? We can’t use him any more. They already know about our
connection with Sawat.”

“That’s
just the point, Culler. They know we’re in touch with him. Listen…” Mac leaned
forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “What if we called Sawat and told
him we were back in town and needed his help to drop us and a few other guys
off on the hill behind Khun Ut’s villa. We could say we would need his
helicopter for that – maybe to make two or three trips.”

“Okay,
I get it, and Sawat would naturally report those plans right back to Khun Ut,
just like he did with Khun Sa many years ago, but– devil’s advocate – Khun Ut
already knows that we know that Sawat talked to him about us. So why would he
think that we would trust Sawat to help us again?”

“That’s
a good point. You’re right of course. We never would trust Sawat again. Not
unless we absolutely had to, that is. Like, if we had no other choice. If we
were backed into a corner, desperate, and had no one else to turn to, we would
have to trust him, right?”

Culler
finished his bowl of noodles and pushed it aside. Then he noticed Mac’s
practically untouched bowl and asked, “If you’re not going to eat that, do you
mind…?”

“Order
another bowl for yourself. And get us another round of beers. I just got my
appetite back.” Mac attacked his dinner.

Chapter One Hundred-Fourteen

B
ellies
full, and with renewed enthusiasm, Santos and MacMurphy climbed back into the
Range Rover and headed further into the town of Mae Sai. They took a left at
the first major intersection where a large sign in English and Thai indicated
the road to the Doi Tung Royal Villa, the Mae Fah Luang Gardens and the Wat
Phra That Doi Tung.

It
was quite dark, and aside from an occasional car coming down off the mountain, there
was very little traffic on the paved, two-lane road that wound up the side of
Doi Tung.

They
passed the lights of several small Shan, Akha and Lahu tribal villages
sprinkled on the mountain slopes on both sides of the road. About mid-way up
they drove past the darkened Mae Fah Luang Gardens. The lights of the Land
Rover illuminated the flowers and plants growing among rock formations in the
gardens.

At
about one thousand meters up the air began to turn noticeably cooler and the
jungle and mostly deciduous forest gave way to evergreens. Further on they
passed the darkened entrance to the Doi Tung Royal Villa. It consisted of
several large wooden structures built in the classic Thai way with sweeping
ornately curved roofs. The buildings were surrounded by tall eucalyptus and
evergreen trees and gardens.

They
were pleasantly surprised to find that the road continued beyond the villa,
although it narrowed to little more than one lane and the macadam ran out. Mac
dropped the Range Rover down into four-wheel drive and they continued to climb
upward, more steeply now.

They
grinded up the side of the mountain until they passed a varied collection of
statues and carvings in a dark, damp sheltered glade on their left. A few
minutes later they were startled when their lights illuminated a massive stone
stairway directly in front of them.

Mac
hit the brakes and they gazed up at the stone stairway rising up the side of
the mountain in front of them. The stairs were guarded on each side by stone
half-human, half-serpent Naga warriors, eerily illuminated in the moonlight and
in the headlights.

At
the stairway the road turned sharply to the right and ended in the temple’s
deserted courtyard. Mac pulled the Range Rover into the courtyard, tires
crunching on the gravel, and pulled to the far end where they parked near a
grove of fir trees.

Mac
slipped the red police parking pass out from behind of the sun visor and tossed
it face up on the dashboard. He glanced over at Santos. “What the hell,” he
said with a shrug, “it’s worth a try.”

They
cut the lights and walked to the back of the Range Rover. The weather was fresh
and cool. They were alone near the top of Doi Tung Mountain. Santos opened the
back of the car, pulled the two duffel bags toward him, and began sorting out
their gear. They were already wearing jeans and hiking boots but they changed
into long sleeved camouflage military shirts and pulled on their Ghillie-suits
over the top.

“Damn,”
said Santos with a snort, “This thing smells rank. We should have thought to
wash them after our last little outing.”

“Whew,
you’re right. I guess we’ll just have to get used to it.”

Culler
grimaced. “We’ll have to double up on the animal repellant or we’ll attract
every snake and fox in the woods.”

He
pulled out the two .45 caliber pistols and leg holsters and screwed on the
suppressors. He handed one to Mac and strapped the other to his leg.

Mac
pulled out the two assault rifles and passed one to Culler. Each drum was
loaded with one hundred rounds of 5.56mm ammunition. He left the spare drums in
the duffel bag due to the added weight. Next they strapped on their Spetz
knives, slipped on their Camelbaks, floppy camouflage hats and night vision
headgear. Last, they pulled on their backpacks loaded with extra ammunition,
granola and power bars, animal and bug repellant, sleeping bags, nylon shelter
sheets, spotter scope and other assorted gear.

Finally,
Mac pulled the .338 Lapua out of its case and grabbed two, ten round magazines
fully loaded with Sierra Match 250 grain bullets. He slipped one of the
magazines into his pocket and put an extra box of ammo in his backpack. He
slapped the other magazine into the gun and chambered a round. He checked the
safety and slung the rifle over his shoulder. “I guess we’re ready,” he said, passing
the laser rangefinder and spotter scope to Santos. “You can carry these.”

“As
ready as we’ll ever be,” said Santos. He slammed the back door shut and pointed
the remote key lock at the Range Rover and pressed the button.

Mac
hesitated. “Wait a minute. On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t leave our
remaining gear and ammo in the back. I mean, what if we return and find the
Range Rover surrounded by Khun Ut’s men like before? Maybe we should cache the
remaining gear in the woods someplace.”

“Not
a bad idea, makes sense,” said Culler. He hit the remote to unlock the car.
“Let’s wipe it down for fingerprints as well. Wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“You’re
right, wouldn’t hurt. No sense making things easy for them.” They pulled the
two duffel bags out of the back of the back and went about wiping down door
handles, steering wheel and other parts of the Land Rover they may have
touched. When they were done, Santos hit the remote again and locked the
vehicle.

“Now,
do you want to take the tourist route over the top, or shall we go around?”
said Mac.

“I
definitely don’t want to climb any higher than we have to.”

Mac
studied his GPS. “Let’s head in a south-easterly direction back around the
stairs until we get to the other side and then we’ll drop down to that rocky outcropping
we saw from the other side. It shouldn’t take us more than a few hours – it’s
all downhill.”

They
flipped down their night vision gear and headed off, MacMurphy leading the way.