Message From -Creasy 5 (31 page)

Jens tapped his computer. "Don't worry, Creasy. It's all in here. What about
code names?"

"You are 'Base'. I am 'Green One', Guido is 'Green Two', Maxie is 'Red One',
Rene is 'Red Two', The Owl is 'Red Three' and Nol Pol is 'Blue One'."

The Dane fed the information into the computer.

Creasy looked at Susanna and said: "We don't say long goodbyes. We think that's
unlucky. We'll see you in the morning."

He picked up his SMG and led the men out into the compound. Over his shoulder, he
said: "Jens, we'll do a radio check after we've crossed the border."

Susanna and Jens and Jennings stood by the door, watching as Nol Pol climbed into the
driving seat of the lead jeep. Creasy sat beside him, with Guido in the back
carrying the rocket-launcher. Maxie drove the second jeep with the other three.
They drove out of the compound without a backward glance.

They trooped back into the house. Jennings said: "I wish he'd have let me have
a back-up force ready. If things go wrong, I could have had a bunch of hard
guys to chopper in there."

As they sat down at the table, Jens said to him: "I'll explain why he didn't let
you do it. It's like these modern explorers or solo round-the-world sailors.
They might be in the middle of the roaring forties or halfway across the Arctic
icecap. If they get into trouble, they pick up their radio and say
'Help'. Back at base, a plane takes off and in a couple of hours is dropping supplies
or even people to help them out." He gestured with his thumb.

"Those guys are like Scott or Amundsen. They don't want a nanny watching over them.
It's why they do that kind of work. It's not just the money, especially in this
case. It's the thrill of the danger. They're hooked on adrenalin."

"Even The Owl?" Susanna asked.

"Yes, even him."

She decided to satisfy her curiosity and asked: "But not you, Jens?"

The Dane shook his head and then tapped it with his forefinger. "I'm more
cerebral. I'm not saying they're stupid. In fact, they're all highly
intelligent." He thought for a moment and then went on: "You might
say it's a question of co-ordination. You can be sure that they would all have
been good sportsmen. They have the co-ordination between eye and limb that
enabled them to become experts with the weapons they just took out of
here." He smiled. "I was always hopeless at sports. It was embarrassing
at school. We played football and handball and I hardly knew which was which.
When I was in the Danish police, I had to take a firearms course like everybody
else. The instructor was being generous when he told me that the target was
safe when I held a gun."

Jennings had been listening intently. He said: "You're an honest man."

Jens shrugged and answered: "I'm also important. I don't feel bad about not
going in with them. I do the investigating and the planning and when the action
starts, I'll be co-ordinating. I've done it before with this team. It makes it
easier for them, knowing that I'm here. Someone has to do it and I'm happy
doing it." He looked at his watch. "They'll be crossing the border in
about an hour. That's the crucial time. If they get through undetected, there's
very little Khmer Rouge presence until they ford the upper reaches of the
Tamyong river. Then it's a grey area until they reach Tuk Luy. We know from the
aerial survey that most of the Khmer Rouge soldiers there have moved south. We
don't know how many remain. When they get to within a kilometre, Creasy will
send in Maxie to recce. He's the best there is."

"We're in Cambodia," Nol Pol said, braking the jeep to a stop.

Creasy was looking at the map. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. The countryside is the same, but I can feel it. We're in the killing
fields." He pointed across Creasy to the left. "Soon we should see
the lights of the village of Cam Tray. They have no electricity, but they have
kerosene lamps. Then in another ten minutes we should reach the Tamyong river.
It's only a stream up here. After that, we're deep into Khmer Rouge territory."

They were on a dirt track, which the Cambodian explained was usually only used by
bullock carts. From the back seat Guido asked: "Does the track continue like this?"

"No," the Cambodian answered. "It gets worse as we near the river. That will be
a danger point. The Khmer Rouge have several camps along that river. After that
we have a clear run through to Tuk Luy."

Creasy said to the Cambodian: "When we get near the river, turn off the headlights and
wear the night sights. It's difficult, but possible." He picked up the VHF
radio, switched it on and said: "Green One to Base. Do you read?"

Three seconds later, Jens' voice came back: "Base to Green One, loud and clear."

Creasy spoke again: "Green One, to Red One. Do you copy?"

From the jeep fifty metres behind, Maxie spoke into his radio: "I copy."

Creasy said: "We're in Cambodia. In about ten minutes from now, we'll switch off
our headlights. Do the same and wear night sights."

"Affirmative."

Creasy nodded to the Cambodian, who engaged the first gear and edged the jeep forward.

It happened as they came down the track towards the river. Both Nol Pol and Creasy
were wearing the Trilux night sights strapped to their heads. Simultaneously,
they spotted the two figures standing on the track. They both held rifles.
Creasy picked up the radio and quietly said: "Two Khmer rouge ahead. We're
stopping. Slow down and have Red Two and Red Three leave your vehicle and cover
us from the flanks. Then drive on and stop behind us."

Maxie's voice came back. "Will do."

The two men on the track had raised their rifles. They were AK47s. Nol Pol gently
braked to a halt. One of the Khmer Rouge moved away to the side. The other
approached the jeep, his gun held high. From the back seat, Guido whispered:
"I have him covered."

Creasy lifted off his night sight, saying to the Cambodian: "Take yours off. You
know what to tell them."

Nol Pol followed the instruction and then said: "I've rehearsed it many times.
These two are peasants and not regulars. They use them simply for
patrolling."

The Khmer Rouge reached the driver's window. The AK47 was pointed at Nol Pol's
head. He looked at Creasy and at Guido in the back and then turned abruptly as
the second jeep pulled up behind. He shouted something to the other Khmer
Rouge, then pointed his rifle at the second jeep.

Creasy was startled by the tone of Nol Pol's voice. He shouted at the Khmer Rouge.
When the soldier tried to say something, he shouted at him again. The soldier
backed away about a metre, but his gun was still pointed at Nol Pol. Creasy
realized that he was listening to an officer addressing a very junior soldier.
Nol Pol lowered his voice slightly as he spoke several sentences.

Creasy knew that he was explaining that Nol Pol was an officer in the Khmer Rouge and
he was escorting five mercenaries who had been hired by Connie Crum, the Cobra,
to clear mines in her region. They were moving without lights because there had
been rumours of government troops in the area. Had the soldiers seen any government troops?

Slowly,
the Khmer Rouge soldier lowered his AK47. He spoke to Nol Pol respectfully,
with his sandalled feet loosely at attention.

Then
Nol Pol turned to Creasy with a slight smile. He said: "He has heard of no
government troops in the area, although they bombed a Khmer Rouge camp about
ten miles away yesterday...Do you have any cigarettes?"

"I
don't smoke. Do they want cigarettes?"

"They
always want cigarettes, especially American cigarettes."

From
the back seat, Guido said: "Rene smokes Marlboros."

Creasy
opened the door of the jeep and jumped down. He called out: "Rene!"

From
the bushes thirty metres away, Rene emerged with his submachine-gun held ready.
The other Cambodian soldier swung his AK47 to cover him. Nol Pol shouted an
order which was repeated by the other soldier. The AK47 was lowered.

"Do
you have any cigarettes?" Creasy asked Rene.

"Naturally,"
the Belgian answered. "I've got a couple of packs."

"You'll
have to sacrifice them," Creasy said. "Give them a pack each. We're
among friends."

Rene
lowered his SMG and reached into his tunic pocket, saying: "I'll give them
a pack and a half to share between them. I'm not going through withdrawal
symptoms in the middle of a fight."

The
atmosphere became convivial. Both the Khmer soldiers rested their AK47s against
their side of the jeep while Rene counted out the cigarettes. Then they had
another conversation with Nol Pol, picked up their rifles and moved down the
track.

He
started the engine, saying to Creasy: "They'll show us the best place to
ford the river."

As the
jeep moved forward, Creasy asked: "Will they communicate with Tuk
Luy?"

"No.
They cannot. They have no radios. They come from the village we just passed.
They assume that I'm a Khmer Rouge officer. Of course, in such a rural
countryside, the word will eventually get around that we've been here. But by
that time, we should be out."

The two
jeeps surged across the shallow river half an hour before midnight, with the
two Khmer Rouge soldiers wading in front, puffing away at their Marlboros.
Then, with waves of goodbye, they watched the jeeps move off into the darkness
towards Tuk Luy.

Nol Pol said: "It won't be so easy if we run into regular units. We're entering
the area from which I defected. They might know me."

"They won't open fire without warning," Creasy said. "They'll have a look
first. If they recognize you, we'll gun them down. Guido will have you covered
at all times."

From behind, Guido slapped the barrel of his SMG and said: "You're covered. And
if we're stopped, Rene and The Owl will be on each flank before they see the
second jeep."

"What happens if he meets any Khmer Rouge soldiers?" Nol Pol asked.

"He won't," Creasy answered. "He's the best scout I know. He moves like a
cat, and at night, cats don't bump into dogs or anything else that might be
dangerous."

They were parked on a ridge about a kilometre away from the faint lights in the
distance. Maxie McDonald had just merged into the darkness in front of them.
Creasy looked at the dial of his watch. "It'll take half an hour," he
said. "Let's have some coffee, Guido."

They
quietly climbed out of the jeep and the Italian produced a Thermos flask and
three plastic mugs. He also produced a small medicine bottle and shook three
pills out into his palm. Creasy took one and gestured at the Cambodian to do the
same.

"It's
Dexedrine," he explained. "It keeps you awake and alert. It's banned
by the Olympic Athletics Committee, but I don't think anyone will turn up here
to give us a test."

Nol Pol washed down the pill with his coffee and asked: "So now we just wait?"

"Yes, we wait for Maxie to call in. No one is going to surprise us." Creasy
gestured off to his left. "Rene is out there on the left flank and The Owl
on the right flank." He took a sip of his coffee and asked: "How long
were you with the Khmer Rouge?"

For the next twenty minutes, prompted by the curious questions of Creasy and Guido, the
Cambodian talked about the insanity of the Pol Pot regime. He described how
anyone with an education was considered an enemy of the State, and the absurdity
of the fact that Pol Pot and all his cadres were educated men themselves. He
talked of the collective madness where even infants of educated people were
considered tainted and to save wasting a bullet were clubbed to death.

"It's always the kids," Creasy remarked.

The Cambodian nodded and said: "It was Day One. I'll never forget listening to
the cadre on that day when we took Phnom Penh. He addressed the soldiers in my
unit and told us the Khmer people had no history. Our culture, our temples and
our monks were nothing and would be destroyed. We were beginning the first day
of the Khmer people. Everything that happened before Day One had to be
eliminated. We would be a clean and new people. We cheered and the killing
began. It was a mass blood lust. After a while, killing people became
meaningless. It was part of our new culture."

"It's not the first time it has happened," Guido said sombrely.

"And it won't be the last."

They were interrupted by Maxie's voice coming from the radio clipped to Creasy's webbing.

"Red One to Green One."

Creasy pulled up the radio. "Green One, go ahead."

"I'm in the village. It's just a cluster of houses and huts. No sign of Khmer Rouge
activity. The only lights are in the main house. I managed to get a look
through a window. There's a Caucasian guy in there, shackled to the wall, with
two guards wearing Khmer Rouge uniforms. They're sitting at a table drinking
beer. I've done a complete perimeter check and there's no activity at all. Over."

Creasy pushed the 'Send' button on the radio. "Green One to Red One. Good
situation. We're coming in. Meet us half way. Green One to Red Two and Three. Start
moving in two minutes, staying a hundred metres out on the flanks. After we take that
house, close in, but stay outside and cover. Green One to Base. Do you copy?"

The Dane's voice came in with a slight crackle. "We copy."

Creasy said: "We should acquire that house in the next fifteen minutes. Then I'll
call you to have that aircraft take off." He switched off the radio and
clipped it back onto his webbing, picked up his SMG and said: "Let's go!"

The Dutchman had decided that he was going to die in spite of Connie Crum's
consoling words. He had been in danger many times in his life, but had never
felt the premonition of death. He felt it now. He looked at the two Khmer Rouge
soldiers sitting at the wooden table laughing and joking, and he felt the rage
welling up inside him. He had been paid for the job, but he had done the job
well. He always did his work well. It was a matter of principle, regardless of
the paymaster. He looked at the shackle on his left wrist. It seemed to
represent his entire life. He had never been really free. There was always
someone to tell him what to do and how to do it. His one regret was Tan Sotho.
He had become fond of her. It was not a word normally associated with people like him.