Plausible Denial (9 page)

They
arrived at the center of the town less than an hour later and pulled up in
front of the modern Wangcome Hotel. Again using their aliases, they checked
into adjourning rooms on the tenth floor overlooking the bustling city.

Mac
recalled Chiang Rai as the Thai city closest to the famed Golden Triangle,
formed by the confluence of the Mekong and Ruak rivers where Burma, Laos and
Thailand came together. The town was infested with people involved in one way
or another in the drug trade. A modern day Dodge City, much like Medellian in
Colombia. It was equally infested with police—some who were not even on the
take. 

The
tourist business was also booming in Chiang Rai, with excursions to the
surrounding ancient temples, mountain villages and the poppy fields, and an
abundance of first class hotels. There were also hundreds of low cost hostels
frequented by hippies and youth interested in trekking and hanging out and
sampling Thai
gunsha
– the best marijuana in the world. There was also
an abundance of heroin in all forms, and more earthy Oriental delights.

Culler
and Mac chose to pitch up in one of the first class hotels for reasons other
than just comfort. These hotels offered better security and fit well with their
use of tourist cover.

Once
they had settled into their hotel rooms, Mac used his non-attributable cell
phone to call Bill Barker’s Thai contact, retired policeman General Sawat
Ruchupan.

While
not perfect security, prepaid cell phones could not be traced back to owners,
and cell phone records were not kept by the companies because there was no
billing. MacMurphy knew that all security was a tradeoff with efficiency, and
the convenience in this case outweighed more stringent security measures.

 Since
it was getting late in the day, General Sawat suggested they meet at his villa
in Chiang Mai the following morning. He informed Mac the shipment of gear had
arrived and was awaiting opening and inspection.

Tired
and jet-lagged, Culler and Mac had an early dinner at the hotel, took two
melatonin each to assist in getting over the jet-lag, and retired for the
evening.

Chapter Twenty-Two

M
ac
and Culler arose early, had a light breakfast at the hotel and headed south for
Chiang Mai. They easily found Sawat’s spacious villa overlooking the Gymkhana
golf course in a beautiful residential section of Chiang Mai, located in the
posh southeast quarter. From the looks of his palatial villa, General Sawat Ruchupan
was clearly a man of some means.

A
thin, balding man in his mid-seventies, he met Culler and Mac at the door.
Dressed impeccably in long white trousers and a long-sleeved, white shirt, he
bowed deeply in the traditional Thai
wai
with his palms pressed together
in a prayer-like fashion, showing respect to his visitors. “
Sawatdee khrap
,”
he said.

Both
Culler and Mac returned the
wai
and spoke the
sawatdee khrap
greeting in unison. They removed their shoes at the door and left them on the
threshold. The general led them through the hotel-like foyer, padding barefoot
over the polished teak floor, through sliding glass doors at the back of the
house and onto a patio pool deck beyond.

They
took seats around a white patio table shaded with an umbrella to shield them
from the morning sun. A tanned, bikini-clad young Thai woman was lounging by
the pool nursing a yapping Shih Tzu at the obviously augmented breasts that
threatened to burst out of her bikini top. 

“Quiet
Ling Ling,” she chastised the mutt, “these are
farangs
from America.
They won’t hurt you my baby.” But the dog continued to yap incessantly,
regarding the interlopers with canine disdain.

“Noi,
my darling, this is Mr. Humphrey and Mr. Callaway.” The dog continued to yap as
they greeted one another with
wai
’s across the pool deck. “
Sawatdee
kha
,” she said in a sweet, little-girl voice, “happy to meet you.”

An
elderly Thai servant arrived to take their drink orders and then disappeared
back into the house. After lighting a local
Krong Thip
cigarette, the
general blew a lungful of foul smelling smoke up into the air. He didn’t bother
to offer one to his
farang
guests, assuming all Americans were health
nuts who distained smoking. It was just one more thing he could not understand
about these strange foreigners, but their money was good.

Returning
with a large pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and cookies on a silver tray, the
servant quietly placed them on the table in front of them. He poured the
glasses and, without asking, he poured one for Noi and brought it and a cookie
on a napkin to her by the edge of the pool where he served her with a bow. She
fed the dog a piece of her cookie and the mutt finally settled down in her lap
contentedly.

The
general took a long, last pull on his
Krong Thip
cigarette and crushed
it out in his cookie dish. He spoke in excellent American accented English with
smoke oozing from his mouth and nostrils. “Your shipment arrived two days ago.
I have not opened it but I have seen the manifest. It appears you fellows are
going on a hunting expedition—hunting men, from the description of the
automatic weapons in the box.”

He
smiled knowingly, lit another rancid
Krong Thip
and continued. “I hope I
can be of further service to you in that regard. Mr. Barker surely must have
told you that I stand ready to offer a wide range of discreet services to my
clients. I am more than just an arms merchant.”

Culler,
wearing a short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt, placed his hands behind his head and
stretched, displaying massive biceps and forearms. “Can you get us
transportation, like, maybe an airplane?”

“That
can be arranged easily,” said the general. “I am a pilot and I own a small
Cessna 172 four seater. It is a very reliable plane for, shall I say,
surveillance of certain places in the area.” He smiled knowingly.

Mac
didn’t know how far he could take this but decided the general could be useful
in leading him to Khun Ut’s heroin. “What about a helicopter? Can you fly one
of those as well?”

“Yes,
of course. I have part interest in a Bell Ranger which has room for four people
and some luggage. Very reliable. We use it mostly for tours up and down the
Mekong and around the native hill tribe villages.

“That’s
good to know,” said Mac. “Bill said you were both trustworthy and resourceful.
It appears that he was right on both counts.”

“It
goes without saying that all of this has to be held in the strictest
confidence,” said Culler. “We don’t want anyone else knowing our business. No
one.”

“Understood.
You will not have to worry about me. It is like the American saying, ‘Whatever
happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.’” The general laughed loudly at his own joke,
displaying a mouthful of nicotine stained teeth and gold.

“Okay,”
said Mac, standing, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s go see what
Bill Barker sent us.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

T
he
three men padded in their stocking feet back across the polished teak floor of
the foyer to the general’s study in the front of the house.

The
general opened ornately carved teak double doors to reveal a warm, paneled room
with masculine leather couches and chairs. A huge, beautifully carved partner’s
desk dominated the center of the room. The room was impeccably organized, but
it reeked of stale cigarette smoke. In one corner, two wooden shipping boxes
were stacked neatly.

“The
larger box contains the weapons and other gear,” said the general, reading from
the manifest, “and the smaller one contains the ammunition. I am sure that both
can’t be shipped in the same container.” He handed the manifest to MacMurphy.
“Please check to see that everything is in order while I open the boxes.”

Santos
walked over to help the general.  After he picked up a claw hammer and the
general grabbed a crowbar, they went to work on the boxes.

They
inventoried the gear, examined each piece of equipment and found that
everything had arrived as planned and paid for.

Sawat
puffed on another
Krong Thip.
“That is quite an arsenal you’ve got
there, gentlemen. Those automatic weapons are beautiful. I don’t think I have
ever seen anything like them. May I see one?”

Culler
handed him one of the rifles.

The
general set down his cigarette, caressed the rifle and sighted down the barrel.
“Very nice,” he said.

“It’s
a POF 416 5.56 mm assault rifle. State of the art. Treat us right and we’ll
leave one behind for you when we leave.”

“Oh,”
said the general amidst a gust of smoke, “I will treat you right. No doubt
about that. I would not want you coming after me. Not with those weapons.”

Mac
grabbed an armful of the gear and headed towards the door. “Let’s start moving
this stuff to the car,” he said over his shoulder to Culler, “but leave the
H&K pistols and a couple boxes of the .45 mag ammo out. We should keep them
close from now on.”

Culler
removed the two H&K pistols and suppressors from their boxes and set them
aside. He found the correct ammo and set a couple of boxes of those aside as
well. Hunting for the holsters, he found that Barker had sent two holsters for
each gun. One was a thigh holster suitable for carrying openly on military type
missions, and the second was a mid-back, belt clip-on holster for concealment
under a long shirt.

Barker
had thoughtfully included two green military duffle bags in the shipment. They
placed the loose weapons and gear into the bags before carrying everything to
the trunk of the car
.

The
general watched intently from the door as Culler and Mac loaded the rental car.
Noi padded across the foyer on bare feet about half-way through the loading
operation. She was wearing a diaphanous top unbuttoned over her bikini and was
still clutching Ling Ling at her breast. Her tanned skin shone from suntan
lotion, and she smelled like cocoa butter. She regarded the activities with
bored disdain
.

“Daddy,”
she said kissing the general on the cheek and snuggling his arm, “I’m going
upstairs to shower and change for lunch. I won’t be long.”

Culler
appeared and the dog began to yap frantically. He glared at the mutt until Noi
and the dog disappeared at the top of the stairs. “Can’t stand yappy mutts,” he
muttered to Mac. “But I do love lazy, floppy-eared dogs. You know, the kind
that sit at your feet and look up at you adoringly. I like my women that way
too...”

“You
wish,” said Mac, “You wish.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

M
ac
drove while Culler busied himself with loading ammo into the pistol magazines,
wiping down the guns and breaking in the waist holsters by sliding the guns in
and out of the form fitting, hard leather. He popped a loaded magazine into
each gun and placed one next to Mac and kept the other for himself.

About
half way back to Chiang Rai, Mac grabbed his cell phone. “We should call to set
up a meeting with Charly Blackburn.” He had earlier programmed the blind cell
numbers of Culler, Charly, Maggie and Edwin Rothmann into his phone and had
added the general’s number that morning.

 He
pressed the speed dial for Charly Blackburn, but her phone went immediately
into voice mail. “Hi,” he said, “This is Bob. We’re in Chiang Rai staying at the
Wangcome Hotel. We can meet anytime after work in room 1048. Please give me a
call and let me know what time you can meet. Thanks. Talk to you later.”

Mac
had decided to meet in Chiang Rai rather than in Chiang Mai because Charly was
well known as a consulate official in Chiang Mai. He knew the weakest link in
any operation was usually the officially covered case officer. They were the
most likely to be under surveillance by the opposition.

Security
was never perfect, but he thought it would be good enough under these
circumstances.

Charly
Blackburn called a little over an hour later and left a short message on his
phone. “Hi Bob. Good to hear from you. See you at nine. Okay? Ciao.” 

Chapter Twenty-Five

A
t
eight-thirty Mac sent Culler Santos down to the hotel’s lobby to provide
counter-surveillance for the meeting. In the lobby bar, Culler selected a bar
stool with a good view of the revolving doors at the front entrance.

At
eight fifty-six a woman who met the description of Charly Blackburn spun
through the revolving door and hurried purposefully toward the elevators at the
rear of the lobby. Her shoulder-length, black hair was pulled back away from
her face and tied at the nape of her neck. She wore a black, short-sleeved,
silk blouse, black slacks, and black pumps.  She carried a large black
leather shoulder bag.

The
ninja lady
, he thought as she breezed through the lobby in front of him.
She entered an empty elevator and disappeared from his view.

His
eyes moved back to the revolving doors at the entrance. Only moments behind
her, a harried looking, balding Thai in a wrinkled white shirt, dark slacks and
old tennis shoes entered the lobby through the revolving doors and stopped,
frantically looking around the lobby for something or someone.
Bingo, that’s
the surveillance
, thought Culler.

Culler
watched the man move through the lobby, eyes darting about and clearly
anxious.  The man dropped into a comfortable armchair in the middle of the
lobby and made a call on his cell phone. He spoke into it while still rubber
necking around the lobby.