by Kae Bell
Andrew shook the net as he spoke. “But why are you doing this? Your country is peaceful now, prosperous. Why would you disrupt that?”
Hakk spat on the beach, hissing his words. “My country is rotted flesh, attracting flies, maggots, vermin – foreign vultures who come to feed off the innards of the land. My country is a whore for them, for sale to the highest bidder. A slave to outsiders. I will free her from the yoke of the Ch’kai.”
As he listened to Hakk, Andrew pulled a clear plastic blade off his chest, where it was taped along his last rib. He palmed this in his hand. Behind his back, he pushed the thin knife into the chunky twine, moving the serrated blade back and forth against the rough rope. One piece gave way and he worked on the second, then the third. In a moment, he was able to reach his hand out of the net.
Hakk paced the beach, yelling out to his men in Khmer. Andrew needed more time.
He asked Hakk, “What is your next plan for the Ch’kai? Perhaps we can settle this another way, come to an understanding, an arrangement that could benefit you.”
Hakk spat again as he paced, forward and back. “You have nothing I want, Mr. Shaw. Perhaps you would do better to focus on your own troubles. You have other worries now. You and your little friend Severine.” At Severine’s name, Andrew’s heart sank. How had she gotten involved in this, he wondered.
As Hakk spoke, Andrew cut through several more rungs of the net and reached out to the metal ring that held the net together. He felt above and behind him for the metal rung, for a catch or release. He could not find it, so he reached farther around the metal hook until. Ahh, there it was. He grasped the metal release and gave it a hard pull. The net relaxed around him and he dropped six feet to the ground, landing with a thud on the soft sand. Gathering the net beneath him in his arms, he leapt at Hakk, who turned in surprise but not in time. Andrew cast the net upon him, pinning Hakk to the ground. His pipe fell to the beach and sizzled in the sand.
“What are the other targets?” Andrew asked. He held the knife to Hakk’s throat. Hakk stared up at him, expressionless. He blinked once, twice.
“I don’t know what you speak of. But, please, continue. Life is so tiresome.” Hakk stared at him, undaunted by the slim knife that he could feel against his neck.
Andrew shook Hakk’s shoulders. “Tell me your plan!” Andrew yelled into the night.
Behind him, a metallic sound. Andrew looked up to see several pistols trained on him. He glanced left and right. Black-clad guards surrounded him on the beach.
The moon had risen above the horizon and gentle orange moonlight glowed on the weapons aimed at Andrew’s head and chest.
Hakk spoke in Khmer, his voice calm and unhurried. The largest guard stepped close and held out his left hand.
“Heang would like your weapon.” Hakk explained. “He enjoys knives. Especially using them on intruders.”
For an instant, Andrew considered slitting Hakk’s throat. Just be done with it. Whatever insanity he had planned would die with him.
But then Andrew would never find out the next target or targets and would not be able to stop it. Or even to try. And he himself would be dead the moment after he slit Hakk’s throat. He resisted the urge to destroy.
Instead, Andrew looked up at Heang, who smiled at him, and handed Heang the clear knife, blade first.
“Hope it comes in handy,” Andrew said.
In his zeal for his new toy, Heang grabbed the extended knife hard, his soft hand closing down on the blade. The razor sharp thinness of the blade sliced his hand. A fine line of bright red appeared in his large palm. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was long. Surprised, Heang yanked his hand away, the knife dropping onto the sand next to Hakk.
“That was foolish,” Hakk said.
A second guard yanked Andrew off of Hakk and bound Andrew’s arms behind his back.
Hakk stood, untangling himself from the net, as if removing a dinner jacket, brushing bits of sand and seaweed off his trousers and arms. “But then you have not impressed me with your wisdom. You seem to have a knack for missteps. One after another. This is why your country has set you loose, yes? You were careless.”
Andrew tried to show no expression at this comment, but he was surprised at Hakk’s knowledge. Where would he have gotten that information?
“And you are certainly no use to me, you have been nothing but an annoyance since you arrived to Phnom Penh. But that will all soon end.”
Hakk lifted his right hand, a signal to someone up the beach. Andrew turned around to see, but guard number two pushed his chin to face forward again. He’d caught a glimpse of men carrying a skiff down the beach. After a few minutes, they appeared and placed the boat at the water’s edge.
Hakk nodded at the boat. “I understand that you are a sailor. That you have a love of the sea.”
Andrew hadn’t sailed since his time at the Naval Academy. He said nothing.
Hakk smiled at Andrew’s silence. “I know so many things about Andrew Shaw. My sources are excellent. And discrete.”
Hakk pointed at the boat. “So you will enjoy your time on the open sea. I hear the winds might pick up, there is a storm coming. Such an experienced sailor, you will have no troubles.”
Hakk spoke to Heang in Khmer, his voice rough and angry, a finality in his tone. He glanced once more at Andrew and then walked toward the house, climbing the ladder into the hut’s interior.
Heang lifted Andrew into the boat, binding his feet as tight as his arms.
As Heang started the engine, Andrew spoke to him, trying to distract him.
“You don’t need to do this. You know, I could set you up in America. You’d do great with the ladies. Strong silent type and all. Where am I headed, big guy? Wanna join me?”
Heang worked on the boat, preparing it for a one-way journey. Andrew had seen that the tiller had been rigged with a Loran, so he would not be steering himself anywhere. Andrew assumed it would be a straight course to the bottom of the sea.
Next, Heang moved around Andrew to the bow, where he knelt down. Andrew heard a whirring electric sound. He strained against the ropes holding him to the wooden slats. What he saw depressed him.
Heang was drilling a hole in the bow, a small hole, but a hole nonetheless, just above the waterline. It would be enough to allow water to seep in as the boat headed out to rougher seas, where Andrew would vanish in the water’s depths.
For the first time, Andrew felt hopeless.
Heang stepped back and surveyed his work.
“Well, you guys have thought of everything, haven’t you?” Andrew said.
Heang grunted and stepped out of the boat, started the engine and gave the boat a hard push into the deeper water. The wood bottom rasped along the grainy wet sand until it floated free, bouncing on incoming waves.
Andrew lay on the bottom of the boat, tied under the wooden seats, staring at the sky. He could see the moon in his peripheral vision, above the horizon, shining white on the water.
As the boat moved away from the beach, bobbing up and down on the rolling waves, the engine whirred and hummed, as it popped out of and then back into the sea.
Beyond the incoming tide, the water was calmer and the engine grabbed ahold. The boat began its journey south into the Gulf of Thailand, heading to open water.
Andrew stared up at the night sky, wishing for familiar stars.
The boat smelled of fish and salt. It had seen many journeys on this open sea and it did not mind that this would be its last.
Chapter 30
Mondulkiri
The boat slowed, as the captain scanned the river’s edge for the special tree that marked the entrance to the canal.
There, he saw it. He slowed the engine to a crawl and set the boat on course for the tree with heavy branches hanging over the river. He scrambled ahead to the bow to guide his boat with a long red pole. The last thing he needed was to get stuck in the mud, as the river was shallower along the bank. He gripped the pole and pushed away the ver
y thick branches to reveal an offshoot of the river. The leaves were green and heavy.
The boat motored slowly through the branches, its engine the only sound in the night.
Jeremy watched this activity with interest. He wasn’t a fan of boat rides anyway and he felt his stomach seize as the passage narrowed.
The boat had now left the Mekong and was on what seemed to be a small tributary, in fact an ancient canal cut thousands of years ago and concealed by dense brush and thick forests.
After some time, Jeremy noticed that the trees along the bank grew sparser and the boat seemed to move more quickly through the water. The current was less here. And the air felt different. The Captain hurried back the stern of the boat to adjust the engine.
Jeremy watched him and asked, “How long ‘til we reach the cavern?”
“Soon, we will move quickly. Watch your head!”
Jeremy ducked as the water swept the boat into a wide-mouthed cave. The water seemed to be pulling the boat now. Jeremy looked up to see that the night sky that had been overhead was gone. In its stead, a stone ceiling that looked to him to be about fifteen feet high. The river they had been traveling on was now only about 15 feet across. The lush green banks of the river had been replaced by walls of roughly cut stone.
“What is this?”
“This is shortcut. Fastest way to cavern. Old canal, from ancient times.”
“Well, as long as we get there soon. I have a boat waiting in Sihanoukville to take a shipment back.”
“Yes, very good. Boat will go fast.”
Jeremy continued talking, mostly to himself, as he surveyed the waters ahead, calculating the offers he had in hand for the statues and several he knew would come in once other antiquities collectors found out. It was important, he knew, not to flood the market. It would raise questions and devalue the pieces.
“Hold on!”
The captain mimed hanging on to the boat while gesturing ahead with his other hand. Jeremy glanced ahead and saw the rapids. The boat would drop into these in only seconds. He grabbed on to the boat’s edge with both hands as the boat rushed forward deeper underground.
*******
In the cave, the boat charged ahead in the narrow rapids for some time, then slowed as the canal widened and the stone ceiling gave way to a high cavernous space. They had traveled for some time. The boat rounded a corner and a broad white beach came into view about a half mile ahead. Beyond the beach, on a wide plain, the field of life-size gold statues gleamed in ethereal light. Jeremy’s heart rate quickened. They had arrived.
At the back of the boat, the Captain had set to work. He called out to Jeremy. “Sir can you help me please?” Their two passengers were still asleep.
Jeremy watched as the Captain threw back a tarp to reveal a blue barrel. As the boat approached the beach, the Captain rolled it on its edge toward the side of the boat, planning to lift it over the side onto the beach.
"What is THAT?" Jeremy asked.
“Mr. Hakk, he had special delivery for the American men who live here. Ask me to keep it secret.”
Jeremy strode over to the barrel and started to yank the top off.
“Special delivery?"
The Captain ran to the barrel and placed his worn hands on the top that Jeremy tugged on. He pushed at Jeremy with his whole body, to move him away from his cargo.
“No, no! Hakk said no open. Only for these men in hiding. Not to look. A present. A surprise.”
Jeremy, doubtful that Hakk had bought anyone a present in his entire life, shoved the Captain aside. The Captain lost his balance and fell to the floor, where he stayed, watching Jeremy grab a screwdriver from an open toolbox and wedge it underneath the lip of the barrel, loosening the plastic top around the circular barrel rim.
The Captain, unaccustomed to being pushed about on his own boat, seethed. While no one had witnessed the loss of face and the utter embarrassment of a passenger commandeering his vessel’s cargo, he felt it.
Jeremy had loosened the top enough to slip his fingers underneath the lip. He pulled the top off and threw it, like a Frisbee, into the river. He looked inside.
Inside was a thick round canister, packed with plastic explosives. Even from Jeremy’s limited experience with such things, he guessed it was enough to blow the roof off a football stadium. On the side, an electronic clock counted down, with only three hours remaining.
*******
The bomb now sat on the beach, settled in the yellow sand. The Captain and Jeremy had removed it from the boat and stood looking at it. It had taken them ten minutes to lift the barrel and carry it together to a flat spot on the sand by the cliff. They had argued about moving it but in the end the Captain had prevailed. The Captain had presented a gun in defense of his position, explaining to Jeremy that this was his boat and his cargo and Jeremy was his passenger. After that Jeremy complied.
The Captain had returned to his boat, where he folded and refolded his salty fishing nets, wishing he was on the wide open sea. Jeremy walked among the field of statues, touching them and breathing deeply. The gold statues stared, unmoved by the new arrivals to the cavern or their destructive cargo.
Awake now, Severine sat on the beach by the river, her arm around Samnang. Both were groggy from the drugs and more than a little confused by their new location. Samnang would not speak. Severine had put her feet in the water and Samnang had done the same. Together, they sat, big and little, their long black hair hanging down their backs, watching the river as it flowed south.
Over the bubble of the river, Severine heard voices. She glanced at the Captain, who was focused on his net. He whistled to himself. She looked back at the plain, where Jeremy wandered in a silent and golden trance. She was sure she heard voices. She lifted her chin and looked at the river, where two canoes appeared around a bend.
“Dammit it all the hell! This daggun’ rope has tangled my foot. Can’t you fools learn how to coil a rope. Help me out, Frank!”
The boats rounding the bend carried five men. One of them was hopping about, tipping the canoe this way and that.
“Sit down fool, or we’re all gonna end up floating in this river.”
“Oh thank God.” Severine stood. She didn’t know who they were or what they were doing there, in this strange, ethereal place. But their voices, she could hear, were filled with laughter and light.
The boats continued toward her and she waved at the men, one of whom whistled at her, long and low. Frank scowled at him.
“Classy, Harry, to catcall a women in distress.” The canoes neared the beach and Frank hopped into the water to pull the boats onto the pebbles. He called out to Severine.
“We heard we had company, thought we’d come on down here and see what’s going on.”
The man called Harry whooped as he hopped out of the boat, using his cane to steady himself and nearly falling in the shallow water. Frank caught him. “We haven’t had this much excitement in thirty years!” Harry yelled.
The second man with a cane followed. The two men sidled over to the blue barrel.
“Watcha got in here?” Harry asked. He poked at the barrel with his cane.
The other man scolded him. “Hells bells, Harry, don’t you remember anything? You don’t poke a live explosive!”
“Ahh, shut up Ed, you old windbag. You always were a know-it-all. Let me take a closer look at this thing.” Harry knelt down in the sand, putting his cane on the beach and peering into the barrel at the bomb.
Severine rushed over to Frank. “I don’t know who you are but I’m so thankful you’re here. There’s a bad man in town, he sent us here with this bomb. What do we do?”
“Hang on there misses. We’ll let the experts take a look.” He nodded at Ed and Harry who were circling the bomb, arguing about it.
“Whaddaya see, Harry?” Ed asked.
“Not too much.” Harry rapped on the metal casing. “Gotta open this baby up, take a look inside. Anyone got any pliers?”
The Capta
in had watched the new arrivals with interest and he hopped from his fishing boat with his toolbox. “Yes, here is tools.” He had given up trying to control the situation. He was outnumbered now.
Severine turned to Frank. “Is that a good idea?” she asked, her face dark with worry.
Frank shrugged. “Who knows? Let’s see what they come up with. They’re the best we’ve got at bomb disposal around here.” Frank gestured around the empty space.
Samnang, next to Severine, watched Frank with wide brown eyes. Frank bent down to her.
“What’s your name there, little bug?” he asked.
Samnang whispered her name. Severine smiled. “She’s a lot shy and a little scared.”
“Well, everything is gonna be ok, little lady.” Samnang looked from Frank to Severine and then back again.
Severine said, under her breath, “I hope so.” Frank patted her hand.
*******
Jeremy was furious. He and Hakk had made a deal. A deal! Now he’d been sent upriver with a bomb. He sat on a golden chair and fumed, muttering about teaching Hakk a lesson.
“I’ve got to get the statues out of here,” Jeremy said to himself. He had worked so hard, had sacrificed for this. He would not be thwarted by some two-bit local gangster.
From the beach, Severine and Frank watched him. “What’s wrong with your friend there?” Frank asked.
“His plan has gone awry. He doesn’t like it when things don’t go his way.”
“Well, our boys are gonna try to disarm the bomb. In the meantime, we need to get everyone out of here, in case they don’t.”
“How? We won’t all fit in those canoes and even the fishing boat.”
“Our buddy Bob has it all figure out.” Frank said. “Tell the lady your plan.”
“The lights, the power here, are from a submarine we brought upriver about thirty years ago now. It’s about out of juice…”
“And so are we…” Frank added helpfully.
“…So we’re gonna hop in and take a ride, maybe head into town, to see the sights. Figured now’s as good a time as any,” he added, nodding at the bomb, surrounded now by all the men, one of them on his knees trying to read the timer.