The Brittle Limit, a Novel (24 page)

“Hope it comes in handy,” Andrew said.

In his zeal for his new toy, Heang grabbed
the extended knife hard, his soft hand closing down on the blade.
The razor sharp thinness of the blade sliced his hand. A fine line
of bright red appeared in his large palm. It wasn’t a deep cut, but
it was long. Surprised, Heang yanked his hand away, the knife
dropping onto the sand next to Hakk.

“That was foolish,” Hakk said.

A second guard yanked Andrew off of Hakk and
bound Andrew’s arms behind his back.

Hakk stood, untangling himself from the net,
as if removing a dinner jacket, brushing bits of sand and seaweed
off his trousers and arms. “But then you have not impressed me with
your wisdom. You seem to have a knack for missteps. One after
another. This is why your country has set you loose, yes? You were
careless.”

Andrew tried to show no expression at this
comment, but he was surprised at Hakk’s knowledge. Where would he
have gotten that information?

“And you are certainly no use to me, you have
been nothing but an annoyance since you arrived to Phnom Penh. But
that will all soon end.”

Hakk lifted his right hand, a signal to
someone up the beach. Andrew turned around to see, but guard number
two pushed his chin to face forward again. He’d caught a glimpse of
men carrying a skiff down the beach. After a few minutes, they
appeared and placed the boat at the water’s edge.

Hakk nodded at the boat. “I understand that
you are a sailor. That you have a love of the sea.”

Andrew hadn’t sailed since his time at the
Naval Academy. He said nothing.

Hakk smiled at Andrew’s silence. “I know so
many things about Andrew Shaw. My sources are excellent. And
discrete.”

Hakk pointed at the boat. “So you will enjoy
your time on the open sea. I hear the winds might pick up, there is
a storm coming. Such an experienced sailor, you will have no
troubles.”

Hakk spoke to Heang in Khmer, his voice rough
and angry, a finality in his tone. He glanced once more at Andrew
and then walked toward the house, climbing the ladder into the
hut’s interior.

Heang lifted Andrew into the boat, binding
his feet as tight as his arms.

As Heang started the engine, Andrew spoke to
him, trying to distract him.

“You don’t need to do this. You know, I could
set you up in America. You’d do great with the ladies. Strong
silent type and all. Where am I headed, big guy? Wanna join
me?”

Heang worked on the boat, preparing it for a
one-way journey. Andrew had seen that the tiller had been rigged
with a Loran, so he would not be steering himself anywhere. Andrew
assumed it would be a straight course to the bottom of the sea.

Next, Heang moved around Andrew to the bow,
where he knelt down. Andrew heard a whirring electric sound. He
strained against the ropes holding him to the wooden slats. What he
saw depressed him.

Heang was drilling a hole in the bow, a small
hole, but a hole nonetheless, just above the waterline. It would be
enough to allow water to seep in as the boat headed out to rougher
seas, where Andrew would vanish in the water’s depths.

For the first time, Andrew felt hopeless.

Heang stepped back and surveyed his work.

“Well, you guys have thought of everything,
haven’t you?” Andrew said.

Heang grunted and stepped out of the boat,
started the engine and gave the boat a hard push into the deeper
water. The wood bottom rasped along the grainy wet sand until it
floated free, bouncing on incoming waves.

Andrew lay on the bottom of the boat, tied
under the wooden seats, staring at the sky. He could see the moon
in his peripheral vision, above the horizon, shining white on the
water.

As the boat moved away from the beach,
bobbing up and down on the rolling waves, the engine whirred and
hummed, as it popped out of and then back into the sea.

Beyond the incoming tide, the water was
calmer and the engine grabbed ahold. The boat began its journey
south into the Gulf of Thailand, heading to open water.

Andrew stared up at the night sky, wishing
for familiar stars.

The boat smelled of fish and salt. It had
seen many journeys on this open sea and it did not mind that this
would be its last.

Chapter 30

Mondulkiri

The boat slowed, as the captain scanned the
river’s edge for the special tree that marked the entrance to the
canal.

There, he saw it. He slowed the engine to a
crawl and set the boat on course for the tree with heavy branches
hanging over the river. He scrambled ahead to the bow to guide his
boat with a long red pole. The last thing he needed was to get
stuck in the mud, as the river was shallower along the bank. He
gripped the pole and pushed away the very thick branches to reveal
an offshoot of the river. The leaves were green and heavy.

The boat motored slowly through the branches,
its engine the only sound in the night.

Jeremy watched this activity with interest.
He wasn’t a fan of boat rides anyway and he felt his stomach seize
as the passage narrowed.

The boat had now left the Mekong and was on
what seemed to be a small tributary, in fact an ancient canal cut
thousands of years ago and concealed by dense brush and thick
forests.

After some time, Jeremy noticed that the
trees along the bank grew sparser and the boat seemed to move more
quickly through the water. The current was less here. And the air
felt different. The Captain hurried back the stern of the boat to
adjust the engine.

Jeremy watched him and asked, “How long ‘til
we reach the cavern?”

“Soon, we will move quickly. Watch your
head!”

Jeremy ducked as the water swept the boat
into a wide-mouthed cave. The water seemed to be pulling the boat
now. Jeremy looked up to see that the night sky that had been
overhead was gone. In its stead, a stone ceiling that looked to him
to be about fifteen feet high. The river they had been traveling on
was now only about 15 feet across. The lush green banks of the
river had been replaced by walls of roughly cut stone.

“What is this?”

“This is shortcut. Fastest way to cavern. Old
canal, from ancient times.”

“Well, as long as we get there soon. I have a
boat waiting in Sihanoukville to take a shipment back.”

“Yes, very good. Boat will go fast.”

Jeremy continued talking, mostly to himself,
as he surveyed the waters ahead, calculating the offers he had in
hand for the statues and several he knew would come in once other
antiquities collectors found out. It was important, he knew, not to
flood the market. It would raise questions and devalue the
pieces.

“Hold on!”

The captain mimed hanging on to the boat
while gesturing ahead with his other hand. Jeremy glanced ahead and
saw the rapids. The boat would drop into these in only seconds. He
grabbed on to the boat’s edge with both hands as the boat rushed
forward deeper underground.

*******

In the cave, the boat charged ahead in the
narrow rapids for some time, then slowed as the canal widened and
the stone ceiling gave way to a high cavernous space. They had
traveled for some time. The boat rounded a corner and a broad white
beach came into view about a half mile ahead. Beyond the beach, on
a wide plain, the field of life-size gold statues gleamed in
ethereal light. Jeremy’s heart rate quickened. They had
arrived.

At the back of the boat, the Captain had set
to work. He called out to Jeremy. “Sir can you help me please?”
Their two passengers were still asleep.

Jeremy watched as the Captain threw back a
tarp to reveal a blue barrel. As the boat approached the beach, the
Captain rolled it on its edge toward the side of the boat, planning
to lift it over the side onto the beach.

"What is THAT?" Jeremy asked.

“Mr. Hakk, he had special delivery for the
American men who live here. Ask me to keep it secret.”

Jeremy strode over to the barrel and started
to yank the top off.

“Special delivery?"

The Captain ran to the barrel and placed his
worn hands on the top that Jeremy tugged on. He pushed at Jeremy
with his whole body, to move him away from his cargo.

“No, no! Hakk said no open. Only for these
men in hiding. Not to look. A present. A surprise.”

Jeremy, doubtful that Hakk had bought anyone
a present in his entire life, shoved the Captain aside. The Captain
lost his balance and fell to the floor, where he stayed, watching
Jeremy grab a screwdriver from an open toolbox and wedge it
underneath the lip of the barrel, loosening the plastic top around
the circular barrel rim.

The Captain, unaccustomed to being pushed
about on his own boat, seethed. While no one had witnessed the loss
of face and the utter embarrassment of a passenger commandeering
his vessel’s cargo, he felt it.

Jeremy had loosened the top enough to slip
his fingers underneath the lip. He pulled the top off and threw it,
like a Frisbee, into the river. He looked inside.

Inside was a thick round canister, packed
with plastic explosives. Even from Jeremy’s limited experience with
such things, he guessed it was enough to blow the roof off a
football stadium. On the side, an electronic clock counted down,
with only three hours remaining.

*******

The bomb now sat on the beach, settled in the
yellow sand. The Captain and Jeremy had removed it from the boat
and stood looking at it. It had taken them ten minutes to lift the
barrel and carry it together to a flat spot on the sand by the
cliff. They had argued about moving it but in the end the Captain
had prevailed. The Captain had presented a gun in defense of his
position, explaining to Jeremy that this was his boat and his cargo
and Jeremy was his passenger. After that Jeremy complied.

The Captain had returned to his boat, where
he folded and refolded his salty fishing nets, wishing he was on
the wide open sea. Jeremy walked among the field of statues,
touching them and breathing deeply. The gold statues stared,
unmoved by the new arrivals to the cavern or their destructive
cargo.

Awake now, Severine sat on the beach by the
river, her arm around Samnang. Both were groggy from the drugs and
more than a little confused by their new location. Samnang would
not speak. Severine had put her feet in the water and Samnang had
done the same. Together, they sat, big and little, their long black
hair hanging down their backs, watching the river as it flowed
south.

Over the bubble of the river, Severine heard
voices. She glanced at the Captain, who was focused on his net. He
whistled to himself. She looked back at the plain, where Jeremy
wandered in a silent and golden trance. She was sure she heard
voices. She lifted her chin and looked at the river, where two
canoes appeared around a bend.

“Dammit it all the hell! This daggun’ rope
has tangled my foot. Can’t you fools learn how to coil a rope. Help
me out, Frank!”

The boats rounding the bend carried five men.
One of them was hopping about, tipping the canoe this way and
that.

“Sit down fool, or we’re all gonna end up
floating in this river.”

“Oh thank God.” Severine stood. She didn’t
know who they were or what they were doing there, in this strange,
ethereal place. But their voices, she could hear, were filled with
laughter and light.

The boats continued toward her and she waved
at the men, one of whom whistled at her, long and low. Frank
scowled at him.

“Classy, Harry, to catcall a women in
distress.” The canoes neared the beach and Frank hopped into the
water to pull the boats onto the pebbles. He called out to
Severine.

“We heard we had company, thought we’d come
on down here and see what’s going on.”

The man called Harry whooped as he hopped out
of the boat, using his cane to steady himself and nearly falling in
the shallow water. Frank caught him. “We haven’t had this much
excitement in thirty years!” Harry yelled.

The second man with a cane followed. The two
men sidled over to the blue barrel.

“Watcha got in here?” Harry asked. He poked
at the barrel with his cane.

The other man scolded him. “Hells bells,
Harry, don’t you remember anything? You don’t poke a live
explosive!”

“Ahh, shut up Ed, you old windbag. You always
were a know-it-all. Let me take a closer look at this thing.” Harry
knelt down in the sand, putting his cane on the beach and peering
into the barrel at the bomb.

Severine rushed over to Frank. “I don’t know
who you are but I’m so thankful you’re here. There’s a bad man in
town, he sent us here with this bomb. What do we do?”

“Hang on there misses. We’ll let the experts
take a look.” He nodded at Ed and Harry who were circling the bomb,
arguing about it.

“Whaddaya see, Harry?” Ed asked.

“Not too much.” Harry rapped on the metal
casing. “Gotta open this baby up, take a look inside. Anyone got
any pliers?”

The Captain had watched the new arrivals with
interest and he hopped from his fishing boat with his toolbox.
“Yes, here is tools.” He had given up trying to control the
situation. He was outnumbered now.

Severine turned to Frank. “Is that a good
idea?” she asked, her face dark with worry.

Frank shrugged. “Who knows? Let’s see what
they come up with. They’re the best we’ve got at bomb disposal
around here.” Frank gestured around the empty space.

Samnang, next to Severine, watched Frank with
wide brown eyes. Frank bent down to her.

“What’s your name there, little bug?” he
asked.

Samnang whispered her name. Severine smiled.
“She’s a lot shy and a little scared.”

“Well, everything is gonna be ok, little
lady.” Samnang looked from Frank to Severine and then back
again.

Severine said, under her breath, “I hope so.”
Frank patted her hand.