The Fifth Season (21 page)

‘What really brings you back to Jakarta, Hamish?' Mary Jo asked. The last time they had spoken it seemed that he was still preoccupied with the mess created by the Perentie collapse.

‘Well, I decided to escape Hong Kong for awhile. Although I was not really associated with the group apart from the occasional consulting exercise, I found it impossible to conduct any business while the stigma of Perentie's collapse remained. Most of Asia is suffering right now and I just thought I'd come down here for a few months and see what opportunities might come along.'

‘Opportunities? Here?' she challenged. Hamish McLoughlin nodded, sitting upright to stretch. He did not want to be evasive. It was just more convenient for him not to divulge his association with the Geneva merchant bankers. Besides, the confidentiality clause had precluded his discussing his work with those not directly associated with their investments.

He had to be discreet. There were huge amounts of capital at risk and he was determined not to test Mary Jo's integrity, nor place her in a position where she might be influenced by his activities.

‘The Indonesian stock market has fallen to incredible lows, Jo,' he started to explain, ‘and this, in reality, means that the stock of those companies whose operations are still viable are undervalued. When the Rupiah collapsed, shares in all of the companies listed on the Jakarta Exchange were being traded for as little as twenty-five cents in the dollar. God,' he continued, ‘theoretically, the market here is bankrupt. It's shed more than seventy-five billion dollars over the past six months!'

‘But won't most of these companies now collapse without capital, and the huge foreign currency debts they have on their books?' she asked.

‘No, I don't believe so, Jo. Some of these have sound dollar incomes.

Their shares have been dragged down with all the others, and this just might be the time to buy.' She wasn't convinced, and he could see this from her expression.

‘But the political climate…..' she argued, leaving the statement hanging.

‘Sure, I agree. That's one of the reasons I'm here. There's no rush,' he said, ‘I'm not jumping in until I see how the government handles their current problems. And I mean the social unrest, not just the financial difficulties they have on their hands.' He lay back on the sponge-filled mattress, adjusting his sunglasses as he did so.

‘So, you're going to be around for awhile, then,' Mary Jo stated, not unhappy with this prospect. She admitted that she was attracted to him, and was relaxed about seeing where this would lead. These few hours together had been remedial for her, conscious of just how long it had been since she had really felt this comfortable with a man.

‘Well, at least until I wear out my welcome,' he joked.

‘Good,' she said, releasing her skirt, revealing the bikini again. ‘Then you can invite me down here anytime,' with which, she hurried across the hot surface and lunged into the blue water, her attractive figure followed by appreciative glances from a number of onlookers. She swam around the oddly-shaped pool for several minutes then stood on her toes and waved.

Hamish strolled over to the water's edge, and dived in.

‘Macho man!' she teased, referring to the hot tiled surface.

‘Didn't feel a thing,' he laughed, swimming up to her. ‘Hey, you're quite a swimmer.' He had observed her strokes and decided that she'd had coaching sometime in her past. They stood together, savoring the moment.

‘I really enjoy the water,' Mary Jo replied, ‘but I couldn't swim a stroke until I was nineteen. It was far too cold most of the time.' Hamish suddenly realized just how little he knew about this woman, and reached out for her hand under the sparkling water. She accepted the gesture, squeezing his hand in response. Droplets of water ran down her forehead and Hamish wiped these gently away before they reached her eyes.

They stood facing each other, and he eased closer, waiting for her to respond. Mary Jo hesitated, raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him softly, then pushed away playfully as she dived under the water to escape. Hamish followed, easily catching up with his powerful strokes. They swam together for a few more minutes, then climbed out of the pool, neither speaking as they toweled themselves down. Mary Jo ran a comb briefly through her wet hair, after which she wrapped the sarong around her waist, covering the wet bikini. She slipped into her casuals and stood waiting for Hamish to sign the check, offering her arm as he led her away from the pool, and upstairs to his suite via the dedicated lift.

They entered the room, greeted by the noiseless flow of chilled air and, as he closed the door, Mary Jo moved immediately to the bathroom to remove her wet costume. She reappeared moments later, and walked softly towards where Hamish prepared their drinks. She reached up, slowly, pulling at the thick, towel-cloth gown covering his shoulders and he turned, momentarily catching his breath as the sight of her naked body came into view. He permitted her hands to roam, finding, then releasing the loosely tied cord around his waist. Her cold hands moved inside the gown, and slowly around his warm body, stroking the curvature of his back sensuously before slipping down to release his wet swimmers. Already aroused, he tugged impatiently to assist, and as these fell to the floor Hamish wrapped his arms firmly around her, pulling Mary Jo hungrily towards him.

Their mouths met, the warmth of her tongue sending urgent, pulsating messages through his body and he groaned as her hand found the under side of his erection and stroked gently.

Mary Jo pulled back slightly, permitting his hands to find her breasts and, when he bent down to kiss her soft, pink, erect nipples she took his hand, then guided his fingers down, over her firm stomach, continuing on their path until he found the soft, moist mound and she involuntarily shuddered.

They kneeled, still locked together in embrace, and Hamish leaned forward, holding Mary Jo as he lowered her gently to the carpet, her hands guiding as he entered the warmth of her eager body. She groaned, loudly, as he thrust forward filling her completely, his senses afire as blood rushed through his groin, driving him faster and faster. As their bodies slapped together, their excitement achieving almost unsustainable levels Hamish held her tightly, and rolled onto his back, knowing this would heighten her pleasure.

Immediately, the tempo changed with Mary Jo accepting the dominating position. She pushed forward, fiercely, then gasped, rocking away only to thrust forward again, her partner's hardness driving her uncontrollably.

He raised his hips in concert to meet hers, their momentum growing, the warm swell inside rising, spreading through their entire bodies until Mary Jo suddenly cried out, loudly, as muscular spasms inside erupted, driving rolling, orgasmic waves in their path. She cried out, again, her moment of ecstasy prolonged by her partner's climax exploding deep inside, and Mary Jo felt him shudder, then groan, as the warm release flowed into her.

Moments passed, then she leaned forward, her legs clasped together inside his. She raised her head, and they kissed, tenderly, their bodies still floating, captured by the moment. They remained locked together, exhausted but complete, finally surrendering their bodies to sleep. In the hour that followed, night descended. The chill of the air-conditioned room brought them alive, sending both shivering to the king-size bed.

They climbed in between the sheets and held each other tenderly, finding warmth, their body scent still tantalizingly fresh in each other's minds.

Their hands roamed, softly, touching, and they kissed, their bodies reacting to the sensual messages until they coupled, their love making this time less frenzied than before. Then they slept.

When Mary Joe finally awoke, it was still dark outside. She looked across at the man beside her and decided that she had desperately needed this interlude. She lay contentedly, looking out through the plate-glass window across the Jakarta skyline wondering what the future would bring.

Then, recognizing that this would be an ideal opportunity to return to her villa, she dressed, then quietly slipped away, returning home by taxi through the capital's unusually deserted, early morning streets.

‘General Winarko is handling the situation well, Admiral,' the less senior officer advised. ‘We talked at some length. I have passed the Joint Chiefs' assurances to him, and we have agreed to meet for a few hours during my visit to Singapore this week.'

‘What about President Suhapto?' Admiral Brown asked.

‘Winarko feels that the old man is desperate to hold on, looking for alternate solutions to remain in power. It's going to come to a head within days, he said. I explained that we are all hoping for a bloodless transition and he gave me his undertaking that it would be so.'

‘When?' the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff asked, impatiently.

‘Tomorrow, perhaps the day after,' the senior naval officer replied, then added, ‘but no later than Friday.' Both U.S. officers then briefly discussed the deployment of the Seventh Fleet and the ships which had been sent to Indonesia to standby in the event American citizens were to be repatriated.

Admiral Colin Brown replaced the receiver and considered the import of his discussion with Admiral Barnett, CINCPAC. It was most fortunate, indeed, that the Commander in Chief of the U.S. Pacific forces had been on a first name basis with General Winarko for some years. The quietly spoken Javanese officer had given his word and the Admiral was inclined to accept the man's assurances that there would be no military coup, that the transition would be effected on a constitutional basis. Brown reflected on the CINCPAC's almost cynical comment. It seemed more than a littleironic that the man whose nomination as Vice President precipitated the single worst trading day on Asian markets in recent history, was now to become Indonesia's interim President. But how long will he be able to hold on?

Admiral Brown then instructed his assistant to patch him through to John W. Peterson, Director of the CIA. Several minutes passed and they were connected, the Admiral first relaying details of General Winarko's conversation before waiting for the CIA Director's response.

He listened, the intelligence chief 's voice devoid of emotion as he disagreed with Admiral Barnett's assessment of the Indonesian situation, intimating that another initiative had already commenced, one which was supported by the CIA. Admiral Brown's white knuckles gripped the handset firmly, the only evidence of his disguised anger. Their conversation over, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff sat ruminating, then suddenly slammed his fist down hard on his desk, causing his personal assistant to rush into his office.

Admiral Brown glared at the officer. Then, observing the young woman's surprised expression, attempted a weak smile and waved her away.

Then he returned to the confusing situation at hand, his anger with the CIA's involvement in no way diminished as he considered the ramifications of the United States Government backing an Indonesian Palace coup, led by the abrasive, and arrogant General Praboyo.

Bandopadhaya checked his watch, then hurried back to his four-wheel drive anxious to return to the village before the eastern sky filled with the sun's first rays. But it was not the threat of the dry, debilitating heat which prompted this haste, but fear of discovery.

‘It's clear,' he reassured the man sitting in the back, then jumped into the vehicle and barked at his driver, ‘Go!'

The soldier did not hesitate, slamming his foot down hard, throwing a trail of sand behind as the wheels finally took hold, carrying the Israeli scientist and his security officer away from the nuclear site, and the scrutiny of the incredibly powerful American spy satellite's lens as these passed by regularly, overhead.

‘I can't believe that they still don't know,' Bandopadhaya shouted above the engine's whining noise. The Israeli remained silent, not wishing to be jinxed by stating the obvious. He knew that they had been extremely lucky.

His team's suggestion to create the diversion might have been successful, he thought, but every spy satellite roaming the heavens would soon be directed to these dry, arid plains, searching for their secrets. He hoped that he and the other Israelis would be long gone before detection could occur.

They approached the village and were stopped by heavily armed soldiers. Satisfied with their identification they were permitted to pass and enter the temporary shelters erected and dismantled with each new day.

There, under the waning cover of darkness they gathered the remainder of their equipment, then climbed aboard the helicopters which would take them back to their main station.

Bandopadhaya clung to the overhead grip as the heavy Sikorsky 58-T lifted slowly, wallowing above the ground as its slow-whirling blades chopped through the early morning air sandblasting everything in their wake. He caught a brief glimpse of the jeep's headlights as the driver accelerated away, leaving nothing behind which might attract unwanted interest from the prying eyes above.

Two hours later the team landed and the scientist hurried into the briefing room, where a gathering of senior Indian officials waited nervously.

‘Good morning, Mr. Prime Minister,' he said, wincing as he smiled.

The dry desert conditions had sucked the moisture from his skin, leaving his lips cracked and swollen.

‘Good morning,' the Hindu leader responded. ‘Are we ready?' The Israeli scientist's blue, cutting eyes looked directly at the powerful figure and nodded.