The Fifth Season (17 page)

There, parked not fifty meters from the woman's house, the Indonesian President's daughter waited, her anger growing with each passing minute she believed her husband to be inside. An hour passed, then another, and still Praboyo did not appear. Finally, accepting that they might have met elsewhere, she burst into tears, sobbing instructions to her terrified driver to take her home.

* * * *

General Praboyo lay back naked, watching the exquisite Menadonese girl undress slowly, his excitement growing, his impatience to be inside her burning him deep inside. The young starlet, already well rehearsed in the required routine let her dress slip slowly to the floor, anxious that her partner be ready. The memory of their first encounter still fresh in her mind, she deliberately dallied, moving provocatively, but out of his reach, waiting until he was completely aroused. Even her soft, light-brown skin could not hide the faded bruises; her reward for his earlier impatience, and bruised ego.

She removed her bra slowly, then placed one hand against the dresser for balance, using her free hand to complete the undressing performance.

Advancing on tiptoe, she moved around the double bed, feigning shyness, and lay alongside her man with one hand across her small, firm breasts, the other placed over the tiny suggestions of pubic hair dotting her womanhood.

She was ready.

Praboyo's hands touched her breasts then groped impatiently as he rolled over, forcing himself roughly upon her, her smell the only aphrodis-iac he needed. She felt her muscles tense as he penetrated, but willed her body to accept his, lifting her hips to avoid the pain she had experienced during earlier couplings. As his breathing grew stronger, louder, his thrusts filled her completely when, with a loud groan, she felt him suddenly shudder as the warm flow signaled he had climaxed.

For a few, brief, moments her lover lay atop her then, with a grunt of what she interpreted as satisfaction, he rolled to one side and out of bed, without so much as one word to the beautiful, promising actress.

She watched as Praboyo strutted to the bathroom, relieved that she had pleased him, and confident that he would continue to call. Her small, delicate hands touched her breasts, where tiny nipples remained erect, revealing their secret. Although relatively inexperienced, she knew that her lover's rushed attempt at love-making was responsible for the emptiness which remained with her, inside, but she also knew that this would never be mentioned between them.

The memory of the humiliating beating he had administered just weeks before had not discouraged her from accepting further invitations, as the rewards for these casual interludes with General Praboyo were more than even she could have imagined. She had been ensconced in an exquisite, well-guarded villa in Tebet, provided with servants, an almost limitless wardrobe and a new car. She had not hesitated in accepting her demanding role, even though this meant severing all ties with friends and, for the time being, her family back in Menado.

As she lay, listening, she could hear Praboyo completing his ablutions and uttered a silent prayer that he would not discard her as quickly as the others she had learned of, although she did accept that this would be inevitable. Barely seventeen, the not so naïve young actress believed that her beauty and youth would keep him interested long enough for her future to be financially secured.

The girl entered the bathroom after Praboyo had finished, knowing that he would be long gone before she too had completed bathing, although this in no way offended her. He would leave another gift on the dresser, she knew, and this comforting thought occupied her mind as she lay in the discreet hotel's spa, not concerned that their future rendezvous must also be held away from her own precious accommodations. Praboyo had explained; his wife had grown suspicious. They had to be more careful.

Her role as mistress in no way bothered the talented young girl, as she was indeed grateful for the opportunity, even with the knowledge that discovery by the President's daughter would undoubtedly guarantee her harm.

Undaunted by this possibility, she lay back in the tub permitting the spa's gentle spray to massage her body, unashamedly contented with the warm sensation which suddenly flowed through her body, as her thoughts drifted back to the young man she had left behind in Menado, and how he had always pleased her.

An hour later, secure in the belief that life just could not be much better than it was, the young actress returned to Tebet, delighted also with the magnificent present Praboyo had left on the dresser for her. She turned into the quiet
cul de sac
and smiled at being back in the safety of her own villa, totally unaware that barely minutes before, a dark blue Mercedes had departed the scene, carrying with it the promise of a scorned, vengeful woman.

* * * *

That evening, and before Praboyo had returned from his tryst, Tuti telephoned her
dukun
who, having listened patiently to the demanding woman's tirade, arranged an appointment for the following morning, instructing the President's daughter to prepare a number of items he would need.

Upon her arrival, the unlicensed practitioner prepared a potion containing ground, white rhinoceros' horn powder and traditional herbs, and mixed these with minutely chopped strands of Praboyo's pubic hair which Tuti had retrieved from her husband during the night, at the
dukun's
request.

He closed his eyes and chanted incoherently, casting the desired spell.

Tuti paid the herbalist handsomely and returned home, confident that the potion could be easily disguised in Praboyo's food. She hoped her husband would soon lose interest in his Menadonese mistress. And if he did not, Tuti was determined to find another solution.

* * * *

‘They are very conservative, Hamish,' Goldstein had advised.

‘The address says it all, Harold,' he had responded, ‘no need to preach to the converted.' He accepted the coffee and winced as the steamy liquid burnt his lips.

‘You can sort out the finer details with them, later,' the IMF representative suggested, ‘but I must make it quite clear that I am acting only as a messenger.'

‘That's clear, don't worry.' McLoughlin understood that the introduction had come via his friend, and should not be misconstrued as Goldstein acting in any way for the Swiss-based group. It was not uncommon for bankers to seek outside employment recommendations from independent bodies. Harold Goldstein had explained that information regarding the position had come to his attention while attending a recent cocktail party. There, quite by accident, he had been involved in discussion with a group when one of the Geneva bankers inquired if those present could recommend a senior financial consultant to advise them regarding their Indonesian investment portfolio.

‘I suggested your name, Hamish, and they have asked for an introduction,' Goldstein had explained. ‘I made it quite clear to them as well that what happens after that, is entirely between you and their board of governors.' McLoughlin understood. Harry had to consider his own position with the IMF. ‘That means I don't want my name brought into any future conversations at all,' he insisted, seriously. Hamish looked at his friend and nodded in concurrence.

‘I understand, Harry. And thanks,' he said, sincerely.

The following week Hamish McLoughlin flew from Hong Kong to Geneva, where his credentials were well received and his generous contract to act as a consultant to the merchant bankers consummated with exceptional Swiss speed. His instructions required that he maintain a watching brief over the bank's investments in Indonesia. Armed with a suitcase bearing letters of appointment and limited powers of attorney, Hamish McLoughlin found himself heading back for Indonesia where he would request, on behalf of his principals, direct access into the financial machinations of those companies which had borrowed from the merchant bankers. Amongst these he had not been surprised to discover, were a large number of companies associated with the President's family.

Within a week of his arrival, Hamish admitted to himself that the task he had undertaken was, indeed, a most formidable one. The more he delved into the intricate corporate dealings of each of his client's Indonesian bor-rowers, the more he became convinced that the entire structure supporting the country's economy was in imminent danger of collapse. Then, as he pieced together the fragile jig-saw which constituted this immense financial empire, Hamish McLoughlin was stunned to discover why his investigations always led him back up the same corporate path. Out of fifteen hundred companies listed as being either wholly owned subsidiaries or controlled joint ventures, more than twelve hundred of these were either directly or indirectly owned by members of the Presidential family, or his cronies. And the total indebtedness of this group exceeded fifty billion dollars.

And the question on everyone's lips was,
Where had all the money gone?

* * * *

Following Hamish's appointment, Goldstein returned to Washington where he received confirmation that his friend had arrived in Jakarta, and commenced his investigations for the merchant bank. In the future, whatever Hamish reported would flow through to Switzerland, from where the information would be forwarded in regular dispatches, to Tel Aviv.

Harold Goldstein had served Mossad's Directorate of Economic Intelligence Affairs for most of his banking career, having been recruited before entering the IMF. He had studied in London, then moved to Geneva where his masters lobbied to have their operative accepted into the Fund, and transferred to Washington where he remained, his appointment to executive management providing Tel Aviv with direct access to all information relating to the Fund's activities and, in many instances, confidential economic data not normally divulged by member countries. Goldstein had been successful in placing other Israeli operatives into target areas such as Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand, but it had been Mossad's deep concerns over Indonesia that had placed ever increasing demands on his time.

Finally, when it had become obvious that funds were being siphoned away under the guise of investments in aviation and other state-run technology interests, Goldstein had orchestrated for one of his finest financial analysts to be placed in Jakarta, where the IMF was meant to be given access to Ministerial records relating to these out-of-budget expenditures.

The agent had maintained a watching brief over the Indonesian government's disbursement of funds, which in turn alerted Mossad to any dis-crepancies discovered as a result of ongoing due diligence procedures.

At first the investigator made some headway, tracing more than twenty million dollars which had been allocated for the purchase of equipment for the state-owned aircraft assembly plant. An audit revealed that these funds had moved overseas, the Israeli-controlled merchant bank in Geneva finally tracing the funds to an account, identified as one of the many operated by Osama bin Ladam to launder capital used for the acquisition of sophisticated weapons technology. When it was discovered that the Indonesian Minister responsible for this massive donation to the terrorist organization was none other than L.B. Hababli, Tel Aviv decided that he would have to go.

A year later, when Mossad intelligence sources operating through their Jakarta-based embassy confirmed rumors that Hababli would be appointed Vice President, Israel was stunned, and moved quickly to rem-edy the problem. Indonesia's currency had already collapsed from two to seven thousand against the dollar, and when President Suhapto announced that Hababli would be his deputy, the Rupiah was driven through the floor, reaching seventeen thousand against the dollar before the day was out. The resounding response was meant to send the embattled President a message to reconsider Hababli's appointment. Instead, the aging Javanese leader dismissed these attempts to thwart his own strategies, convinced that it was the Americans who were conspiring to have him removed.

The IMF teams were dismissed by the Indonesian Finance Ministry, leaving Goldstein, therefore Mossad, without any access. Of the available candidates known to Goldstein, only Hamish McLoughlin had the necessary analytical credentials, the Asian regional exposure to high-level finance and, at the same time, fitted the profile of a merchant banker. Harold Goldstein had made the appropriate calls, approached Hamish, and within the fortnight, Mossad's flow of information recommenced.

At no time did Goldstein give Hamish McLoughlin any reason to suspect that his employers were anything but bona fide merchant bankers. Their investments in Indonesia had been substantial and, prior to the recent collapse, these had been profitable. Now, with an ailing President and the reality of L.B. Hababli as his legal successor waiting in the wings, Israel's concerns grew, for it was Hababli who had arranged legislation passed the year before, paving the way for Indonesia to develop nuclear power plants, and its own supply of plutonium.

* * * *

The communications intelligence analyst first recognized the increase in activity from photography obtained during the satellite's eighth crossing for that day. The Imagery Requirements Subcommittee, the interagency intelligence group which controls the movements of United States spy satellites, had been focusing on India's missile sites, concerned that they might take retaliatory measures in response to Pakistan's recent launch.

There was no doubt that the level of activity and the increase in equipment and personnel at this location warranted further investigation. The COMINT officer had searched all NSA records and remained mystified as to the purpose behind the new facilities. Following revised directives, implemented as a result of CIA and DIA reports from American posts in India, the satellite's targeting was reconfigured, placing this new site under constant surveillance.