The Defector

by Mark Chisnell

  ‘I'm sorry.’ I muttered, and I almost meant it.

  ‘You've forgotten the bill too.’

  At a movement from Janac the remaining waiter dropped it in front of me. I had no money left. I'd given it all to Janac for the girl. I swore under my breath, and sat back down. Two hundred and fifty seven dollars, ‘What about your half?’

  ‘That is just your half.’

  My mouth had gone dry on me, ‘This is bullshit.’ I muttered.

  He shrugged, ‘The prices are on the wall behind the bar.’

  I looked around, I couldn't even see the bar. ‘I can't pay this with cash.’

  He nodded, ‘The consequences of generosity and compassion.’

  ‘So what do I do, they take credit cards?’

  He laughed, ‘I don't think so. But I tell you what. I'll spoof you for the bill.’

  ‘I'm sorry?’ I said, stalling, though I knew exactly what the game was.

  ‘Spoof. It's real simple. Both players have three coins. Then out of sight of the other player, you put any number of them in one hand. Each player has a guess at how many coins there are in total. Whoever is right, wins, the other guy picks up the tab.’

  ‘I still don't have the money.’

  ‘I'll lend it to you if you play, I'll cover the bill. If you lose you can get the cash and pay me back tomorrow.’

  ‘And if I don't want to play?’

  ‘Like I said, I won't protect you in here.’

  I stared at him, I had no choice.

  ‘What's the problem. You tell me you're a player Martin. These are tiny stakes.’

  I glanced at the trail of ice and cola, where the cop had been dragged away. Janac noticed, but didn't comment, the message was clear enough.

  I slowly reached into my pocket. Despite the circumstances I was buzzing a little at the thought of the game. I was good at this. I'd played spoof for more restaurant meals than most people would ever eat.

  ‘Whose first call?’ I said.

  ‘We'll toss for that.’ replied Janac. He produced three coins which he laid on the table, flipped one, caught it and looked at me enquiringly.

  ‘Tails,’ I said.

  He moved his hand away and we both peered forward. It was a tail. ‘Your first call.’ I said, fishing around for some coins. I put both hands behind my back and placed all three coins in my right hand, clenching it tightly, I placed it in front of me. Janac did the same. He gazed at me impassively for a second or two before saying, ‘Three.’

  Three. The question was if he was trying to win with that call or just not lose. If I was first, I sometimes made a dummy call - for instance, I said three when I had zero myself. If you were trying to win with a call of three, you'd probably have one or two yourself. For some reason, people preferred to have one or two coins than zero or three. I had three though, which meant if he was playing for a win rather than a tied round, I should go for four or five. But I had a suspicion he was trying to spin me off in the wrong direction. I had a horrible feeling he had zero - in which case three was the right call, but he'd aready made it.

  ‘Four.’ I said, opening my hand slowly. Janac raised those eyebrows again, his hand was indeed empty.

  ‘See you loser,’ he started to get up, ‘I'll settle here. My man will be round tomorrow about the money.’

  ‘One more,’ I replied, leaning forward. ‘Double or quits.’

  There was a long silence, while he gently eased himself back into the chair. He watched me carefully as he did it. The thin lips tight. ‘A thousand bucks? Hardly worth it, let's make it ten thousand to the winner.’

  ‘Ten thousand?’

  ‘You lose, you can work it off.’

  I swore fast and hard under my breath. Hooked in and played for a sucker. But there was no backing away now. Ten thousand would near enough clean me out. But it wasn't the money, it was the game itself. Spoof, stock markets, bond deals, currency speculation, property, it was all the same. I nodded my assent. I'd take this arsehole down.

  ‘You surprise me, I didn't think you had it in you. You have the money?’

  ‘I can get it,’ I replied, tight lipped.

  He nodded slowly, ‘Ok, let's play.’ He presented a clenched fist in front of him.

  I dropped a couple of coins into my hand under the table and matched his fist.

  ‘Your call.’ he said.

  ‘Two.’ I replied.

  He smiled, I could almost see him going through the same routine I had, the wheels turning, ‘Three.’

  We both opened our hands and there lay four grubby coins, two each. I breathed a sigh of relief, my initiative now. And I already knew how I was going to play this one. I dropped all but one of the coins out and presented a tightly clenched hand.

  Janac matched it, and he looked into my eyes for a long time. But he wouldn't find anything there. Too many deals, too many games.

  Eventually he spoke, ‘Three.’

  Playing to win, or playing to draw? I was sure he'd play to draw again, he just seemed the type. I was going to say one, but then something made me think, that would be too obvious, to call three and have none again. ‘Two.’ I said.

  He opened his hand with a slight grimace. There was nothing in it. Again.

  I swore under my breath, I should've had him that time. Twice in a row when leading he had called three and had none. Ten thousand dollars had just slipped through my fingers. And I hadn't missed the import of that comment 'you lose you can work it off'. If I wanted out of here I had to win. I licked dry lips. I could feel a little trace of sweat start around the hairline on my forehead. My heart was beating slowly, but hard, lots of blood pumping with each heavy thud. I was focused; there was nothing but the game. The higher the stakes the bigger the buzz. It was a good feeling, an old one, but a good feeling. I'd missed it.

  I dropped all the coins out this time, and presented the fist. ‘Two.’

  Janac was much quicker, as though he'd decided in advance. He knew I'd give nothing away. ‘Three.’ he said and opened his hand, there was one in it. I added my zero and we both smiled grimly. I was worried. He had assumed that I would stick with my pattern, the last time I had led I'd called two and had two in my hand. And this was after he'd led with the same call and number of coins twice in a row. I carefully loaded two coins, and looked up. Janac was ready.

  ‘Three.’ he said, without a single flicker crossing his face. I breathed heavily. He was daring me to take him out. Three times in a row? Surely, no one would do that. But maybe that was the point.

  Ten thousand dollars. Perhaps freedom too. All on the line. Bluff or double bluff? I had to go with the flow, ‘Two.’ I called and slowly opened my hand. The grey eyes glittered as he looked at the two grubby coins sitting in my sweaty palm. His hand remained clenched. I swallowed heavily. Slowly his fingers peeled open. Empty.

  ‘Yes!’ I hissed under my breath. Unbelieveable. Three times in a row. He'd dared me to take him out, and I'd done it. It was almost as though he had been prepared to lose, just to see what I did. Well now he knew.

  But he smiled, sort of, the thin lips curling back over the yellow teeth in an approximation. ‘I didn't think you'd have the balls to make that last call.’

  I shrugged. ‘I want my money.’

  ‘You'll get it. My men will find you tomorrow.’

  I struggled to stand, ‘They'd better.’ I muttered, blood coursing with coke, alcohol and adrenaline.

  Janac smirked, ‘Or what?’

  ‘Just get my money.’ I turned and staggered towards the door.

  ‘Hey,’ he shouted, ‘Keep this as a souvenir.’ And, laughing, he flung something at me.

  I caught it. It was the stage girl's button. But not gold. Plastic. A cheap plastic button.

  Chapter 4

  I dropped the second tablet onto my tongue and slugged back a mouthful from the bottle of water. Then took a couple more sips before screwing on the top and leaning forward onto the bar. ‘Thanks Suchit,’ I said hoars
ely, ‘Wish I'd known you had those before.’

  He turned from where he was washing a glass, ‘No problem, many people here have headache in morning.’ he smiled.

  I tried to laugh. ‘Yeah, right. Can I have the usual breakfast? When you got a minute.’

  ‘No problem.’

  I turned and walked over to my corner table. God what a night. I'd been flying when I left that club. Buzzing, back in the game, ten thousand bucks up, I'd gone for the lot. I'd phoned Kate. I slumped into the chair and stared at the silent ocean. Thank god she hadn't been there. I took another swig out of the bottle. The pain killer was starting to help. I could remember leaving a message. Just the hotel name, I didn't know the phone number. Maybe she could find the number. Maybe she'd just turn up. Maybe she wouldn't get in touch at all. I closed my eyes and tried some deep, slow breaths.

  And then there was Janac. I'd seen a lot last night. Too much. I should've got out when I had the chance. The buzz of winning had banished the memory for a while, but this morning it was hard to think of anything else. Maybe I should just get out now, get on a boat today. Get off the island. But what about Kate? I was going round in circles. And with the mother of all headaches I was in no state to do any thinking. There was a clunk. I opened my eyes and sat up as Suchit dropped the coffee cup on the table a little too heavily, ‘Pancake come in two minutes.’ he said.

  I didn't see the figure approaching me through the tables until he stopped in front of me. The blond cop, who I had last seen being dragged away unconscious, leaned heavily on the table between us - he looked like he needed to. I took in the bandaged arm and plastered face, half-way out of my seat, coffee spilling as I leapt up.

  ‘We have to talk.’ he said, emphatically.

  ‘What do you want?’ I asked quickly, darkly - either way, if it was a bust or information I was in trouble.

  He twitched his head towards the door, ‘Come on, let's walk.’

  I checked around the bar with a quick glance, a couple of tourists were staring at us curiously. Better to take it outside. As I followed him I could see he was limping badly as well. He must really have been worked over, after he was dragged off the previous night.

  I stepped in beside him as we reached the sand and he turned north. In the distance I could see the Big Buddha looming over the beach that bore his name. It was the middle of the day and blistering hot when you moved out from the shade of the restaurant.

  He shuffled over the loose sand to the harder stuff at the water's edge. I glanced around uneasily, I didn't want to be seen with him.

  ‘My name's Alex.’ he said, tersely.

  ‘Look,’ I began, ‘if this is about last night...’

  He waved his hand dismissively, ‘I'm here to warn you Cormac - you're getting into deep trouble.’

  I nearly laughed - looking at the state of him, he was the one in trouble.

  ‘By now you'll know a little bit about our mutual friend Janac.’ he continued.

  ‘Maybe,’ I interrupted, ‘but why should I talk to you?’

  ‘I'm an Australian cop, Sydney based, with a special narcotics squad, put together to operate undercover and abroad,’

  ‘Undercover?’ I raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah, until last night. Or maybe Janac knew about me the minute I got off the plane. Either way, that's neither here nor there now. I'm on my way to the airport. His men gave me till tonight to clear off the island.’

  ‘Great, so now you're compromising me.’ I spat back at him.

  He shook his head, ‘No, I was careful. I'd give you a hundred to one he doesn't know I'm here. I watched for a tail, nothing.’ he paused, ‘I checked you out after the fight in the bar a couple of nights ago. That was the first time you met him, wasn't it?’

  I nodded, I could feel the sun beating harshly on the back of my neck. I flipped up my collar, no sense in getting burned.

  ‘Far as I can tell, you're alright. That's why I came to look for you, partly to find out if you know anything and partly to warn you to be careful.’

  ‘Seems like you're the one who should be careful. What were you doing last night?’

  ‘When your target sends over a glass asking you to join him for a drink - you kind of know you've fucked up.’

  ‘But why confront him?’

  ‘Rush of blood I guess. I'm not proud of it.’ he turned again and hobbled off up the beach.

  I fell into step beside him. I let the silence run awhile before saying, ‘So, tell me what I need to know.’

  Alex stooped and picked up a stone, he didn't break stride. ‘The man Janac is a hard core drug dealer, with an Interpol file as long as your arm. But nothing anyone can prove in a court that counts for more than diddlyshit. He has a lot of cooperation from the law round here. Big local employer and all that. We know he was in Vietnam with the Yanks and I have some of his military service file as well. A high IQ, but no formal education. He comes from one of those little country towns in the mid-west, and was starting to get a bad reputation as a trouble-maker with the local cops, when the draft whisked him off and paid him to do it for Uncle Sam.’

  He spoke quickly and to the ground, pausing only for breath, flipping the flat stone through his fingers as he spoke. It clicked on a couple of heavy gold rings. ‘The combat stuff reads like the story idea for 'Platoon' - citations for valour beside reprimands for brutality. There's a couple of accusations of torturing prisoners captured on long range reconnaissance patrols and then the file closes.’ He stopped, and the stone spun away over the calm water, as if to emphasise the point. I watched it skip, once, twice, three times before it caught an edge and plunged down.

  Alex was still talking, ‘The Americans say the rest is 'classified'. Although they admitted that he served in special operations over there. The Interpol rumours are that he was recruited into the CIA and was involved with their opium running operation to fund the covert activities in the border countries. When that was closed down, he bailed out and started up in business for himself, using the extensive contacts he'd made in that part of the world. He's spent twenty years developing it into one of the biggest operations in South East Asia. Unlike most of the Thai based groups he handles the whole thing from growing to final distribution himself. That's how we came across him. He's directly responsible for about twenty percent of the opiate-based drugs coming into Australia.’

  I stopped and looked out to sea. This was heavier than I had imagined.

  ‘So,’ he said, ‘I've told you what you're into. Take it anyway you want.’

  I started to walk again, ‘I only just met the guy. I got out of there straight after you last night.’

  ‘That girl on the stage, she was really raped you know?’ he said.

  I nodded heavily, kicking at a rock.

  ‘So, are you going to help me fix that bastard?’

  ‘Look, I told you, I only just met him.’

  ‘What about the drugs? He say anything to you?’

  I stopped and looked him in the face, ‘Why the hell should he? We were just having dinner. That's all.’

  He met my stare evenly, ‘No one 'just' has dinner with Janac, Martin.’ There was a long silence before he added, ‘Think about it Martin, it's not just me, thousands of people are having their lives fucked up by this shit.’

  I sighed heavily, turned away and sat on the sand, staring out at the ocean. It was so calm. The mirror-like sheen stretching away. A few ripples came from one of the local fishing boats working a mile or so offshore. The hot silence now hung heavily. Alex was watching me as carefully as I was watching the view. At last he sat down beside me. We sat in silence for a long time. He glanced at his watch, but I ignored him.

  Finally I said, speaking to the ocean, ‘There is a girl on a stage being raped for public entertainment and no one does anything. Before I can draw breath there's a fucking huge revolver pointed in a guy's face. Then the guy, a cop, is beaten and dragged off to god knows what fate in front of my eyes. The next day he
comes round, all fucked up, and tells me that the man I was with is some kind of heart of darkness psycho - which conclusion I had pretty much arrived at myself - and then asks me to inform on him.’ I shook my head, ‘I don't know what's happening to me, but I want out, not further in.’

  Alex stared at me for a long time, before saying, ‘You ever seen a fourteen year old dying from an overdose?’

  ‘Don't give me that civic responsibility crap. What you're asking me to do is way beyond the call of duty.’ I responded sharply. ‘Besides, like I said, I don't know anything.’

  He nodded slowly, ‘Maybe, but someone has to fight the dirty wars, don't they?’

  I stared down at the sand, kicking it into a little pile.

  ‘Anything you want to tell me, anything he's said, that could help us?’

  I shook my head, still staring at the ground. There was another uncomfortable silence. Eventually I looked him in the eye.

  ‘You sure?’

  I nodded. ‘I don't know anything.’ I repeated.

  ‘Ok.’ he said heavily. ‘I've got to split. I've got a plane to catch.’ He pulled out a pad and scribbled down a number. ‘If you want out, I'd stay away from Janac. But you may not get a choice. If you get sucked in and you want to side with the good guys, here's my number.’ he pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and held out the piece of paper. ‘Ask for Alex. There'll be an answerphone if I'm not there.’

  I nodded slowly, taking the note.

  ‘My car's right here, you can walk back huh?’

  Again I nodded, and watched as he turned and slowly limped up the beach.

  I sat for a good while longer, throwing stones at the ocean, before making my way back to the resort. I was very close to packing my bags and heading for the airport, but two things stopped me: Kate and ten thousand dollars. I knew I wanted to see her now, I couldn't leave without that. And if I was going to stick around, I wanted my money. Then I was out of here faster than you could say it. So I walked back into the restaurant, mind still racing with all that had happened, and discovered I hadn't got a choice anyway.