Aji’s eyes lit up and he clasped his hands together. “You are exactly right! Most Islamic nations are badly governed by leaders who claim to be good Muslims, but who are greedy and corrupt. Those leaders have lined their own pockets while making sweetheart deals with the West! The Saudi royal family has a trillion dollars invested in the American economy which means low, stable oil prices are good for Saudi stock market investments. Muslim nations must be led by those who have a true Muslim vision. We must have leaders who know how to level the playing field.”
“Isn’t that happening in places like Libya, Morocco, and Egypt?” Greg asked.
“Corrupt old leaders were replaced by mobs and warring factions,” Aji replied, waving his hand dismissively. “”Soon they’ll be replaced by dictators just like the ones they deposed. There’s no shortage of corrupt leaders or stupid policies in all our respective nations,” Aji claimed with a sweeping gesture meant to include the Indonesians. “For thirty-five years, Suharto ruled Indonesia like his own personal estate, growing rich while slaughtering his enemies, and allowing the nation’s infrastructure to deteriorate. American politicians and CEOs are little better, looting the treasuries they control. But, I digress. For now, let’s focus on the Middle East.”
Aji adjusted his headgear, taking several seconds to marshal his thoughts. “The Middle East is the cradle of civilization. Great cultures flourished in Iran, Iraq, Egypt, and Arabia while the rest of the world lived in caves and mud huts. We developed metal weapons, mathematics, and astronomy. We built great roads and temples while your ancestors were spearing animals for meat and clothing. We were great once, and we’ll be great again.”
“Let’s see if I understand,” Greg interrupted. “In order to recapture the former glory of Babylon, you’re justified in turning teens into prostitutes to help you steal the wealth of lonely old men?”
Aji grinned wickedly. “When you put it that way, it sounds positively evil!” Rubbing his face thoughtfully, Aji shrugged. “We are not calling for the destruction of Christendom or the United States. We are simply trying to wrest control of Muslim nations from corrupt leaders. Admittedly, we need to deploy some distasteful tactics to achieve our goal since we are not blessed with great wealth. A group of enlightened Muslim leaders wish to gradually slow the rate of oil consumption through high prices. By extending the oil supply until the end of the century, we buy time to make a smooth transition to alternative energy forms. Unlike the Saudis and other corrupt Muslim monarchs, we will use oil profits to prepare for the future, not to line our own pockets. We will fund research, then control the transition away from oil. As we make this change, we will achieve economic parity with the West.”
“Noble plan, but how will you achieve it?” Greg asked. “Suicide bombers seem to be your weapon of choice. They’re very destructive, but haven’t produced any real change. They simply strengthen the resolve of your enemies. How can you possibly hope to win a fight with an enemy that has greater resources and superior technology?”
Aji smiled. “You just described Vietnam! A small nation of rice farmers with no money and inferior technology beat the French, the U.S. and China in three successive wars over a period of thirty years. It’s possible with great leadership, and a willingness to do whatever it takes.”
Liana fidgeted next to Greg, and caught Aji’s eye. “You’ve been very quiet, Ms. Ariyanto. I’m told you’re a highly educated and successful businesswoman. I’d appreciate knowing whether you agree with my perspective of world history.”
Liana sat composed and confident. “I’ll answer with an analogy. In 1815, Napoleon met the Duke of Wellington on a battlefield south of Brussels. After a day of hard fighting, nearly fifty thousand men lay dead or wounded. Those are the facts of Waterloo. Who won the battle is a matter of interpretation.”
Aji frowned. “I thought it was common knowledge the French lost.”
“Did they?” Liana replied. “That’s one interpretation. Another interpretation is that France won a great victory because Napoleon was finally driven from power, allowing democracy to take root in France. I don’t dispute your facts, but your interpretation is debatable. It’s true there’s been a large scale global transfer of resources. Whether or not that transfer has occurred at unfair prices, or whether the world is worse off, is far from clear.”
Aji’s faint smile exploded into laughter. “Well said, Ms. Ariyanto. You’d do well in politics I think.” When his cell phone rang, Aji answered, listened a few seconds, uttered a few words, then ended the call. “I am pleased with our discussion,” Aji announced as he rose. “You listened well and made some excellent observations. I wish to answer the question about how we can achieve our vision, but I’m certain you could all use a good meal. I will return later to continue our discussion.”
Bowing slightly, Aji whispered to one of the soldiers on his way out of the room. Moments later, soldiers appeared with giant platters of steaming rice, beef, chicken, vegetables, chilled water, breadsticks, and assorted treats. The group gathered around the table, eyeing the feast hesitantly.
Greg plucked a breadstick from a tray, inspecting it carefully. “If they want to kill us, I think they’ll use bullets, not poison. Dig in! I’m starving.”
Donny nearly inhaled his food, consuming several handfuls of rice in a matter of seconds. Greg smiled appreciatively at the small Indonesian. “How’s the food, Donny?”
Nodding enthusiastically in Greg’s direction, Donny didn’t waste precious eating time with words.
“Are you buying any of his crap?” Budi whispered.
“He’s obviously an educated man with a unique perspective. Got an engaging style, too. Bet he’s a helluva public speaker! I wanna hear more,” Greg replied in a normal tone of voice. “It must be killing you to listen without making your usual quota of wisecracks, Budi.”
Budi rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
Liana regarded Greg with a mixture of anxiety and amazement, but said nothing.
“We haven’t known each other long, but I must ask you all to trust me,” Greg said quietly. He looked around the table and everyone but Kersen nodded. Greg figured if Kersen wanted to know what he said, he’d ask Rial or Donny.
Chapter 14
Aji returned around eight that evening. “How was your meal?” he smiled expectantly.
“Quite good,” Greg replied for the group. “Donny ate his own body weight, but I guess that’s to be expected after going without food for a couple days.”
Ignoring Greg’s rebuke about Donny’s treatment, Aji sat, then motioned for the group to resume their sofa positions. “You asked how we can win a struggle against an enemy with greater resources and superior technology. Good question, Greg, and one we had to answer for ourselves. In retrospect, al-Qaeda’s attack on the World Trade Center was a mixed blessing. Much like Waterloo,” Aji nodded deferentially toward Liana. “The attack hurt America, but never came close to crippling it. It takes more to destroy a large, diversified, multi-trillion dollar economy than ramming a couple planes into skyscrapers. We were badly damaged when America retaliated, particularly our fund-raising ability. We depended largely on drug sales and private donations to fund our operations. New banking laws made it more difficult to move money, so many of our largest donors disappeared. Even though the invasion of Afghanistan temporarily cut into our heroin and opium trade, I’m happy to report sales are better than ever.”
“You must be so pleased, supplying poison to the world once again,” Greg smirked.
Aji enjoyed sparring, admiring Greg’s spirit. He despised men who cowered before an opponent. “Indeed,” Aji grinned. “When the West invaded Afghanistan, much of the poppy crop was destroyed, driving prices up, and making our inventory more valuable. Under al-Qaeda protection, poppy farmers are once again producing record crops, and paying handsomely for our services. Unfortunately, income from this source will never be enough to achieve our mission. We needed new funding sources, but our old leadership wa
s unfamiliar with modern ways. I’ll never say so outside this room, but the subsequent death or arrest of many al-Qaeda senior leaders was a good thing.”
Greg, Budi, and Liana exchanged confused glances, wondering if they heard Aji correctly.
“A new group of leaders is emerging, and I am one of them,” Aji bowed humbly, as if accepting a Nobel peace prize. “Many of us were educated in Europe and America alongside your best CEOs. Our mission is to spread the word and teachings of Allah and the Prophet Mohammed using any and all means available. We understand how to recruit, raise funds, and train using social media. Our vision is a world where Muslims have religious freedom, and economic equality. Once we redefined our vision, it was obvious our strategy had to change. We don’t want to destroy America and Europe, or kill Christianity. We just want to disable them while we take back control of the lands where most of our people live. A single strategy will accomplish this. We must stop the flow of oil long enough to cripple the most developed nations of the world. But how do we achieve such an ambitious undertaking? Security has been enhanced everywhere. There are more patrols on water, in the air, and on land, ready to intercept our no-escape attacks. Better....”
“Excuse me,” Greg interrupted. “What’s a no-escape attack?”
“Westerners refer to them as suicide bombers,” Aji smiled paternally. “We prefer to think of them as soldiers who may not survive if their mission is successful.”
Greg wanted to laugh at Aji’s euphemism, but thanked him instead.
Aji nodded slightly. “As I was saying, better airport security and border patrols make it more difficult to move weapons. It takes thirty-five-hundred oil tankers and a half million miles of pipeline to move the world’s oil supply. We can’t possibly knock them all out at once. We don’t have the money, the weapons, or the manpower, so we borrowed a concept from modern planners. Using computer simulations, we were surprised to discover that controlling nine chokepoints will allow us to control ninety percent of the world’s oil flow.” Aji’s eyes danced with excitement as he shared the secret with his captives.
“Chokepoint?” Greg asked. “Is that like a bottleneck?”
“Precisely!” Aji cried, pleased that Greg understood what he was talking about. “Every oil tanker from the Middle East headed for Asia, Europe, or America must pass through one of three chokepoints….. the Straits of Hormuz, Malacca, or Bab el-Mandab. Sixty percent of the world’s oil flows through these three chokepoints. Another thirty percent flows through pipelines in six locations: Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Nigeria, Venezuela, Colombia, and Alaska. If we block the flow of oil in those nine spots, it’ll take the world nearly two years to recover. Without oil revenue, most Arab governments will collapse and millions of supporters will join our cause. Without oil imports, most Western nations will suffer so much chaos, they won’t have time to deal with us. Before we resume normal oil flow, we will change the world forever.”
“I thought the U.S. was on its way to becoming energy independent,” Greg remarked. “Domestic shale oil production is booming, driving down gas prices. You really think you’ll bring the U.S. to its knees by cutting off oil imports?”
“Yes,” Aji smiled, pleased Greg was proving to be a worthy challenge. “The use of fracking has dramatically increased U.S. domestic oil production, but your country is also realizing the hidden cost of such a dangerous practice. Areas using fracking have become unstable with hundreds of small quakes, and contaminated water. We anticipate the use of fracking will be short-lived. In any event, the U.S. still relies on foreign oil for more than half its needs. Shutting off that supply will send prices skyrocketing, causing double-digit inflation, higher interest rates, and a very deep recession. The delicately balanced American economy will experience tremendous chaos, spilling over into all other developed nations while I and my associates consolidate our power base.”
“I’m intrigued by your strategy,” Greg conceded. “If you can topple Western economies and Arab governments with a few well-placed bombs, why do you need my uncle’s money? And the money from all the other wealthy men your people lured to Bali? From what Donny told me, you must have a considerable sum already. Why are you so desperate for my uncle’s fifty million?”
Aji rested his head on the tips of his fingers. “Very perceptive, Greg. I’ll tell you exactly what we need the money for. Blowing up harbors and ships isn’t as easy as it was a few years ago. To close the three ocean chokepoints, we must use briefcase-sized nuclear devices, carried by battery-powered plastic submersibles that won’t show up on radar or sonar. We have a supplier, but we’re about fifty million dollars short of the asking price. Payment must be made tomorrow. The supplier is desperate for cash and has another buyer if we can’t close the deal.”
Greg was stunned. He had not expected Aji to be so candid. Even if it was a lie, it was a spectacular lie! “I don’t suppose your supplier will take an IOU for a million barrels of oil?”
Aji smiled. “Cash only. I need your help, Greg, and I need it now.”
“Why don’t you just divert money from other operations?” Greg asked. “Can’t you use some of your drug money since business has been so good?”
“That’s not the way we work,” Aji explained calmly. “We don’t have a strong central authority, providing funding and other admin functions. I am responsible for recruiting, funding, planning, and executing this operation. I need to raise the required funds myself and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
A deep frown formed on Greg’s face as he considered Aji’s bold strategy. “I’m no geologist, but it seems to me several well-placed nuclear bombs could close your chokepoints, and also trigger quakes and tsunamis, destroying coastal cities. I’m guessing your chokepoints are near geological hotspots, right?”
Rubbing his earlobe nervously, Aji smiled again. “You could very well be right.”
“Just in case your oil embargo doesn’t produce the desired result, you’re hedging your bet with some global mayhem. Trigger a couple tsunamis to wipe out coastal cities in North America, Europe, and Southeast Asia, and the major powers will be so busy with the cleanup, they won’t be able to deal with terrorists seizing power in the Middle East. You realize innocent Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus will die along with Christians, don’t you?”
His casual shrug indicated Aji had considered all the ramifications and didn’t care. “Our loyal followers know the price they must pay to triumph.”
“That may be true of your recruits,” Greg pointed out, “but what about the millions of victims who aren’t on either side of this struggle? How can you justify their deaths?”
“It can’t be avoided,” Aji replied coolly. “In every struggle there are innocent victims. The higher the stakes, the more innocents will suffer. Your country has never had any qualms about killing innocent civilians. Nagasaki. Hiroshima. Carpet bombing in Vietnam and Baghdad.” Rising from his chair, Aji approached Greg. “I could go on, but I think we’ve adequately discussed this subject. Will you arrange the transfer of funds or not? I must know now.”
“What will happen to me and my friends after I arrange the transfer?” Greg asked.
“You will remain here until my mission is complete,” Aji replied calmly. “After the three chokepoints have been closed, there will be no ransom to detain you. You will be taken back to Denpasar and freed. On the other hand, if you don’t transfer the funds before our supplier’s deadline, I’ll have no reason to keep you alive. It’s your choice. Help us and live, or refuse to cooperate and die.”
Greg blinked several times. His mouth was dry and his hands were moist. “I’ll need help from my roommate in San Diego. I don’t keep all the information in my head, so he’ll have to get it from my computer, completing the transfer there.”
Aji smiled paternally. “Aren’t you worried he’ll transfer the money to his own bank account?”
Greg glared at Aji, despising him immensely. “Not Jaya. I trust him more than anyone in the
world. He won’t let me down.”
Nodding his approval, Aji thanked Greg for his cooperation.
Greg had never been in bed with the devil before, and assumed the beads of perspiration on his forehead were caused by the high temperature in Hell. “If I can have a pen and paper I’ll compose an e-mail for you to send Jaya with instructions to complete the bank transfer.” Greg prayed all his friends were wearing their game faces.
Budi and Liana were horrified. They had agreed to trust Greg, but he appeared on the verge of doing something very stupid; possibly fatal.
Aji sent for writing materials, then handed them to Greg. Seated at the table alone, Greg composed the following message for Jaya:
I need your help, but can’t explain why right now. You must transfer money from Uncle Ted’s Bank Of America account to another account per the instructions below:
On my computer find this spreadsheet file: C:/MyDocuments/Banks/Ted
It’s password protected, so enter my birthday; you know what it is since we just celebrated it.
Open file and copy the BOA account number.
Use the BOA Login ID, but not the password on the spreadsheet since I just changed it this week. The new password is CHAMELEON (all caps) plus the Julian date we graduated from UCLA.
Go to www.boa.com, enter account number, ID, and the new password.
Transfer Fifty Million U.S. dollars to Account ______________
Due to the size of the transaction, you will be asked to enter a 20-digit security code from the spreadsheet. You can’t cut-and-paste; must be entered manually.
After all information is entered, choose “Submit Transaction”.
Please acknowledge receipt of this e-mail. Will explain everything when I see you. Thanks for being such a true friend, Jaya. See you soon!
Greg handed Aji the note. “You should probably use my e-mail account so Jaya knows it’s from me. I’ve written my user ID and password on the other side. Fill in the bank name and account number where you want the money sent. It’s almost noon in San Diego, so if you send this now, Jaya should be at work and read it right away. He’ll have to drive home to use my computer, but that’ll only take about thirty minutes.”
Bali Bule Hunter Page 14