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Authors: F. W. Rustmann Jr.

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BOOK: Plausible Denial
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“And
we never use the exact same route twice. We stay off the trails and meander
down through the jungle until we reach our destination.” He drew his ten
fingers down the map from Mai Sai to Mai Chan to show the many possible routes
he would take.

“Okay,”
said Charly to Mac and Culler. “That’s your background briefing. Now let’s get
down to new business. We can’t keep him here all day. It’s best to keep our
meetings as short as possible.”

 

 

Chapter Seventy-Five

 

 

C
harly
spent the next ten minutes debriefing Vanquish on the route he had taken on his
most recent trip and the number of heroin bricks he transported.

His
caravan was made up of eight donkeys carrying forty kilograms each for a total
of 320 kilograms of heroin. He had been accompanied by two other men on
horseback, all carrying AK-47 assault rifles and sidearms. He had hugged the
Burmese border all the way to Wan La-ba, then cut almost due south through the
jungle to Salong Noi before turning southeast to Mae Chan.

The
trip took almost five days down to Mae Chan and two days back to Mae Sai,
direct and empty. It was uneventful, hot, mosquito-infested, boring work.

When
Charly was finished, she asked, “What about your next trip down?”

“We
have another load going down the day after tomorrow: eight donkeys with about
forty bricks each, the same team of three on horseback.”

“Our
colleagues would like to examine the shipment. Can that be arranged?”

He
looked suspiciously at Culler and Mac. “How close?”

“Pretty
close,” she replied quietly.

Mac
said, “We need to get close enough to take samples of the heroin. Scrapings.”

The
old man rubbed the stubble on his chin with a gnarled hand. “How much time will
you need to take your…scrapings?” He emphasized the word
scrapings
.

Mac
replied, “Ten, fifteen minutes at the most. Can you arrange that?”

Vanquish
studied the map. “You will have to do it at night, when I am on guard duty and
the other two are asleep. It will be risky. If you are detected we will have to
kill you. Is this really necessary?”

Mac
nodded his head. “It’s extremely important. We won’t take long and will do it
silently. We’ll just have to work out some signals between us. Give us a time
and an exact location, as well as some sort of signal, and we’ll be in and out
without disturbing anyone.”

Vanquish
looked over at Mac and then Culler and then Charly. Finally he spoke. “I can
give you an exact location on our first night out. There is one spot by a
stream where we like to camp. After that it is hard to tell where we will be.”

“Show
me,” said Mac.

“Here,”
he pointed to the map and tapped his finger on a location, “about two
kilometers east of Wan Hsenta-na on the Burmese side of the border. This stream
runs north and south. See where it bends like a horseshoe here? That is where
we will camp on our first night out, on the inside of the bend of the
stream—right here.”

Mac
jotted down the coordinates. “How will we know everything is clear and the
others are asleep?” Charly and Culler were silently attentive.

“We
will have a small campfire on the bank of the stream here, on the south end of
the clearing. That is where my two companions will be sleeping. We will corral
the donkeys and horses on the north side of this horseshoe. The donkey packs
with the heroin bricks will be stacked here, in the middle.”

“That’s
awfully close,” said Charly.

“Yes,
very close. The area in the horseshoe is not large. It is our job to guard each
shipment with our lives. That is why it is never far from us. Whoever is on
guard, in this case me, will be sitting on top of the packs while the others
sleep. You must be very careful not to disturb the animals or the other two
guards. If you do, you will wake everyone.”

Culler
and Charly looked at Mac, who was deep in thought. “What’s the best route for
us to take in?” he said.

“You
can drive to Wan La-baon the Thai side of the border. Then you must walk north
across the border for about one kilometer and then turn west for about four or
five kilometers. The jungle is not too dense in that area, so you can make
pretty good time on foot. I would suggest you circle around our campsite to the
north and enter from the west. That way you will not come splashing across the
stream right next to us.”

The
three of them smiled. “Good advice,” said Mac. “What time?”

“I
will volunteer for the midnight-to-four shift. No one wants that shift, so I
will be sure to get it. I will also bring a bottle of Mekong whiskey with me
for the boys. They should be out by the time you arrive.”

“What’s
the best time for them to get there?” asked Charly.

“Between
three and four, say three-thirty, after they have been asleep for awhile. They
will sleep soundly, especially with their bellies full of Mekong. The horses
and donkeys will be your biggest problem, but they know me, so when you get
there I can try to comfort them while you do your…
scraping
.”

“Okay,”
said Mac. “How will you signal us that all is clear?”

“I
will be sitting on top of the packs with my rifle across my lap. As soon as I
see you, I will take off my hat and wipe the inside of sweatband. Like this.
Then, when I think it is okay for you to come in, I will put my hat back on,
get up, sling my rifle, and walk over to the corral, leaving the packs
unattended.

“If
I do not move off of the packs, you must stay out of sight. If I go anywhere
other than the corral, you must stay out of sight.”

“Understood,”
said Mac. The others nodded in agreement. “We’ll see you in two days, at
oh-three-thirty.”

 

 

Chapter Seventy-Six

 

 

K
hun
Ut climbed out of the pool at his mountain retreat in Ban Hin Taek and limped
toward a row of lounges. Two bikini clad, darkly tanned Thai women met him with
towels and patted him dry before he plopped himself awkwardly on one of the
lounges and lifted his stiff, mangled leg onto the lounge using both hands.

He
had just completed his regular morning swim and was feeling invigorated. Now he
was ready to get down to business.

Reaching
for his cell phone, he pressed the speed dial. “Come over to the lodge, Ung
Chea, and bring Paiboon with you. Now that Paiboon has inherited the
responsibility for security at the warehouse, we should include him in our
discussions. I am by the pool. It is a beautiful day. We will have breakfast at
poolside before it gets too hot.”

Pointing
to a barefoot waiter dressed in starched white shorts and shirt, Khun Ut
ordered him to set a table in the shade for breakfast for three. Thirty minutes
later Paiboon and Ung Chea were escorted to the table by another servant. They
bowed deeply and exchanged
wais
with Khun Ut before sitting at the table.
The waiter shook open starched napkins and placed them on their laps.

Paiboon
was decidedly uncomfortable in such opulent surroundings. It was his first
visit to Khun Ut’s mountain villa.

Khun
Ut, still dressed in a bathing suit with a towel tossed over his shoulders,
toasted the two men with a tall glass of iced green tea.

“Welcome
to my home, gentlemen, and congratulations to you, Paiboon, on your well
deserved promotion. Ung Chea holds you in high esteem, and therefore I do as
well. I am sure you will do very well in your new position.”

Paiboon
blushed and gave Khun Ut a deep
wai
. “Thank you, sir, for your
confidence.
Khrap khun ma khrap
.”

Ung
Chea was amused at Paiboon’s discomfort.

When
the waiter departed, Khun Ut asked, “What is the status of the surveillance on
the CIA woman?”

Ung
Chea pushed back from the table and turned to face Khun Ut.

“Well,
um, let me start from the beginning. We, the police actually, found the police
cruiser two days ago behind an abandoned charcoal factory in San Sai. That is a
little town just east of Chiang Mai.

“I
spoke with one of our police contacts from the district, and he told me that a
villager had seen a large white SUV drive up and park behind the factory where
the police cruiser was found. They suspect that the SUV picked up the two
farangs
there, where they left the cruiser, and took them away. The SUV headed in the
direction of Chiang Mai.”

“Did
the villager get the license plate number of the SUV or the make of the
vehicle?”

“No.
He just described it as a big, white SUV. That is all he knows.”

Paiboon,
less intimidated now, volunteered, “I can go down there myself and talk to the
villagers, sir. Maybe I can get a better description, or maybe the tire tracks
will tell me something.”

Khun
Ut shook his head. “Good idea, Paiboon, but your job is here. It is better if
we let the police do their own police work. We certainly pay them enough.”

The
Cambodian nodded. “I will speak directly with the constable responsible for
that town. Perhaps he can get a better description for us. I will also suggest
he look at the tire tracks to see if that helps. This country is full of white
SUVs.”

“But
it is helpful information just the same,” said Khun Ut. “At least it narrows
our search. The
farangs
are probably holed up in Chiang Mai where it is
easier for a
farang
to blend in, and they are probably driving a white
SUV. That is something, anyway. Now tell me about the woman.”

The
Cambodian absentmindedly stroked the scar on his cheek with his thumb. “Yes,
the CIA woman. She is very difficult to follow, Khun Ut. We cannot stake out
too close to the consulate because the police have tripled their security
there. The same goes for her residence. Security is heavy all over the place.

“She
is also very good at avoiding our surveillance. We think maybe she comes and
goes from the consulate during the day in cars other than her own. I think she
hides in other people’s cars going in and out. Then she may take taxis for her
meetings. At least we never see her go anywhere during the day.”

“So
you do not know what she does during the day, but you do know that she goes to
work in the morning and returns home at night. Is that all you can tell me?”

“Basically,
yes, that is correct. Except for last night. She did not return home last
night, and her car remained parked at the consulate. The surveillance team does
not know where she is.”

Khun
Ut thought and massaged his knee. “I will bet you this magnificent mountain
lodge that my father built that she is now with the two
farangs
in the
white SUV. They are up to some sort of mischief, but they will be back. At
least she will be back. You can count on that.”

He
turned to the Cambodian and spoke forcefully. “And when she returns I want you
to grab her and bring her here to me. Intercept her between her home and the
consulate. That is one route we can be certain that she will take. Set up an
ambush and bring her to me. I have questions to ask her.”

 

 

Chapter Seventy-Seven

 

 

C
harly,
Culler and Mac drove back to Chiang Mai, but on their way they made one slight
detour. They drove southwest along the border to the village of Wan La-ba to
case for a good place to drop off Culler and Mac.

They
found a spot on the northern outskirts of the village behind an old abandoned
petrol station and junk yard. The far end of the junk yard, filled with rusting
cars and trucks, was at the edge of the jungle. It was a perfect place for
Charly to drop them off and pick them up with a minimal chance of being
observed.

They
arrived back in Chiang Mai in the late afternoon. Charly dropped the two men
off at the safehouse—where they showered, shaved and cleaned up—while she drove
to a nearby grocery store to pick up more provisions.

The
men were happy to remove their disguises and were relaxing in tee-shirts and
shorts when Charly returned. They fixed cocktails and sat around the kitchen
table chatting before beginning to prepare dinner.

When
the topic turned to planning, Mac took a long pull from his vodka-tonic before
speaking.

“This
whole God-forsaken country is out looking for us: police, Khun Ut’s men, good
guys, bad guys. It’s only a matter of time before somebody spots us, disguise
or no disguise, or they figure out we’re driving that Land Cruiser.”

He
turned to Charly and placed his hand on hers. “And I’m especially concerned
about you, Charly. There’s no doubt they know who you are, and we have to
believe that they have figured out that you’re a link to us.”

“Maybe,
maybe not,” she said, “but I agree we need to tighten up our tradecraft.”

“And
that means staying as far away from you as possible, Charly,” said Culler.
“We’re placing you in jeopardy just by being here. You did a great job setting
everything us for us, with Vanquish and all, but we’ve got to cut the cord.”

“I
know, I know. I understand. I really do.” She looked up at them with pleading
eyes. She wanted to remain a part of the operation, and she wanted to remain
close to Mac. “But you still need me to get you up there and back, and then you
may need my help to get out of the country.”

“I
agree with Culler. I think it’s becoming too risky. Why don’t we use General
Sawat to get us up to Wan La-ba and back?”

“You
can’t trust him, Mac. You know that. I told you. He’s one of the most corrupt police
generals in the country.”

Culler
said, “Everything’s a tradeoff. Like the proverbial security-efficiency
teeter-totter. He’s been okay with us so far. Except for that yappy mutt and
his ever present bimbo, that is.”

BOOK: Plausible Denial
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