Plausible Denial

by Rustmann Jr. , F. W.

  “But they’re a package,” said Culler. “The two of them and that obnoxious mutt.”

  “That’s right,” said Charly, “so be extra careful if you feel you have to use him again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Khun Ut or the Cambodian has tapped into her to keep tabs on the general.

  “Anyway, pop open that wine, will you, Culler? Then let’s eat. You guys must be famished and the pasta is done.”

  Charly watched them devour a huge bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce, a loaf of Italian bread, large green salads with tomatoes, onions and hard boiled eggs topped with a creamy Italian dressing, and a bottle of Chianti Classico.

  It was almost five in the afternoon when they pushed back from the table. Charly began clearing the table, rinsing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. “I brought coffee as well. Shall I make a pot?” she asked.

  They both shook their heads. “Not me,” said Mac. “I don’t want anything to keep me awake.”

  “Me neither,” said Culler. “Just point me toward the bedroom.”

  “Well, I should get back to the office and check the afternoon cable traffic. I’ll check in with you guys in the morning.”

  “Do you need a lift back?” asked Mac.

  “No way, I don’t want to be seen with you guys. I’ll take a taxi.”

  Mac stood and took both of her hands in his. “Take care of your business and let us crash. Tomorrow morning we’ll decide what to do next. Right now I’m too tired to think.”

  She hugged him and then Culler. At the door she turned and looked back at them. “Sleep well, my beauties. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  It was almost nine o’clock when Charly returned to the apartment and gently rapped on the door. Mac, who was puttering around in the kitchen dressed only in boxer shorts, opened it.

  She reached out her hand and placed it on his chest as if to say don’t come any closer, but then she moved her fingers gently through the hair and caressed him before slipping easily into his arms.

  He pushed the door closed and succumbed to the smell and feel of her. They embraced and kissed deeply standing in the doorway, and he could feel the heat rising between them.

  But it was she who pushed back this time. Then she leaned forward, nibbled his earlobe and whispered, “I’m crazy about you and want you more than anything, but I’m not going to fuck you in this apartment at nine o’clock in the morning with Culler Santos in the next room. Got it?”

  “Got it,” he replied. They glanced down at his growing erection. “I’d better go get some pants on,” he said, hurrying into his bedroom.

  When he returned in gym shorts and a tee-shirt, he found her in the kitchen making coffee. She was dressed in a pale green sundress which clung tightly to the curves of her hips. “Is Culler up?” she asked.

  “I heard the water running in there. He should be out shortly.”

  She turned toward him, hands on hips, serious. “I told you you couldn’t get into that warehouse.”

  “I know, I know…don’t rub it in, we had to try. I don’t like having to involve you in this. The DDO wanted plausible denial, and with you we risk losing that.”

  “Rothmann knew that I would have to be a part of this. That’s why he put us together in the first place. Otherwise, he would have sent you out here on your own with only General Sawat to support you.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I am right.”

  Culler entered the kitchen, also dressed in gym shorts and a tee-shirt, but wearing one of the longish wigs, a drooping Fu Man Chu moustache and large eyeglasses. “How do I look?”

  Charly grinned. “If it weren’t for your ripped physique, I wouldn’t recognize you.”

  He plopped down in a chair at the table, removed the wig, moustache and glasses, and sniffed the air. “That coffee smells great, Charly.”

  “And it’s ready.” She poured the coffee and served them orange juice, muffins and bagels.

  Mac said, “It’s nice to have a galley slave to take care of us.”

  “Don’t get used to it, sailor. Now listen up – the reason for my early morning visit…”

  “You mean it’s not just to see that we get fed?” asked Culler.

  “In your dreams. We need to do some planning. I got a message from Vanquish last night. He’s back in his village and wants to meet in the morning. I think you guys should come with me. You should meet him and chat about doing your thing without blowing his cover.”

  “This is the Hmong who used to work with Bill Lair. Security guy for their donkey trains, right?” asked Culler.

  “That’s him. He’s a highly compartmented agent. No other case officer has ever met him. He’s your best hope to get access to one of Khun Ut’s shipments. They bring the stuff down from Ban Hin Taek to the warehouse in Mae Chan, the one you guys shot up the other day.”

  “Oh yeah, that one,” said Mac.

  “His village is a couple kilometers east of Ban Hin Taek. It’s called Ban Rai, near where you guys were when you were on the run. I meet him on a trail in the woods near his village. He comes to the meetings on horseback.”

  “What time’s the meet?” asked Mac.

  “Oh seven hundred.”

  “How are we going to get there?” asked Culler.

  “I’ll take you, but we should probably take your car. It’s the cleanest one we have in the base inventory.”

  Mac calculated. “Then you’d better stay here tonight. What time will we have to leave? Around four AM, right?”

  “That’s right. It’s close to a three-hour drive. Staying here probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. Tell you what, I’ll come back this evening with some steaks, and we can have dinner together. I can bunk right out there on that couch in the living room. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Mac. Culler nodded his approval.

  “It’s set then. I’ll see you back here after work, around six or seven. Dress comfortably for the trip, and do something about your appearances. That disguise you had on looks great, Culler. Mac, use the hair color and change your appearance as well. If anything goes wrong…well, see you around seven. Okay?”

  She was already at the door when they replied in unison. “Okay.”

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  She returned at seven, carrying a bag of groceries. Mac surprised her at the door with a new head of freshly dyed, light brown hair.

  The men had spent the day cleaning and reloading their weapons, watching cable TV, preparing their disguises, napping and generally hanging out.

  Except for one trip down to the garage to retrieve the automatic weapons and ammo, they stayed out of sight in the apartment. They had already started cocktail hour and were sitting at the kitchen table drinking vodka tonics when she arrived.

  Culler relieved her of the groceries and placed the bag on the counter. Mac greeted her with a hug and kisses on both sides of her face in the European style.

  “You look ten years younger without that grey hair, but not quite as distinguished. And I see you’ve already started cocktail hour. Who’s the bartender tonight?”

  “I am,” said Mac. “We have vodka and vodka. Which would you prefer?”

  “I think I’d like a glass of red wine. There are two bottles of Bordeaux in the grocery bag.”

  Mac opened the wine while Culler emptied the groceries and laid out the three steaks on a plate. “How are we going to cook these?” he asked.

  Charly rolled her eyes. “I’ll take care of them. Have you ever heard of a broiler?”

  “Nope, I only know how to use an outdoor barbeque grill.”

  “Of course, I should have guessed.”

  When they were finished eating, they sat around the table for another hour leisurely finishing off the wine and going over the planning for the meeting with Vanquish in the morning.

  They studied a map of the region surrounding Ban Hin Taek and discussed the possible rout
es the caravans could take from there down to Mae Chan. Charly traced the routes with her index finger.

  “The entire trip is made off the roads through the forests of the highlands here, and down through the jungle, here, to Mae Chan. And they rarely take the same route twice. Here’s where we’ll meet up with Vanquish. There’s a meadow right here off route 1234. It’s a dirt road at this point.”

  It was almost nine o’clock and the wine was gone. Charly stood up. “Okay guys, time for beddy-bye. You guys hit the sack while I clean up this mess and do the same. Mac, would you grab a couple of sheets and a pillow out of the linen closet in the hall and drop them on the couch? Then I’ll see you all in the morning. Three-thirty will come early.”

  The men said good night and retired. Charly cleaned the kitchen and readied a pot of coffee so that all she would have to do was flip the switch in the morning. She brushed her teeth in the hall bathroom, undressed and crawled between the sheets on the couch.

  She lay there quietly, eyes open looking up at the ceiling, thinking of the day ahead—and of Mac in the next room.

  She glanced at her wrist watch. It was a little after ten. Except for the occasional car and street sounds, and the humming of the air conditioner, it was quiet. She wondered if they were asleep. She turned on her side and continued to think of Mac. Would he come out and join her on the couch? No, he wouldn’t do that. He was probably already asleep. Probably, but…but what if he was waiting for her? Probably not. They had to get up very early in the morning, in less than six hours. Mac was always so damn mission oriented. Damn him.

  It was warm and she threw back the sheet. Her body glowed in the moonlight. She wore only bikini panties. She caressed her breasts and let her hand wander down lower and felt the heat and wetness. She stroked and pushed and…damn it!

  She sat up and looked for several moments at Mac’s door. Then she stood up and walked quietly to the door. It was ajar. She pushed it gently. He did that on purpose, she thought. She pushed the door open just wide enough to slide in and gently pushed it closed behind her. She stood there, staring at the bed, letting her eyes become accustomed to the darkness.

  “What took you so long?” he said.

  Chapter Seventy

  They were awakened by the beep, beep, beep of her wristwatch alarm. She bolted out of his bed, scooped up her panties from the floor, and hurried back to the couch where she grabbed a sheet, wrapped it around her and darted into the hall bathroom, thankful that Culler did not see her exit Mac’s bedroom.

  The three of them were on the road, coffee mugs in hand, thirty minutes later. Mac had chosen a baseball cap and pair of sunglasses to go with his newly colored hair; Culler was wearing sunglasses, a longish wig and matching Fu Man Chu moustache.

  Both men were dressed in tennis shoes, jeans and untucked polo shirts to cover the concealed H&K weapons. Charly was dressed similarly in jeans and tennis shoes and a white blouse. Her PPK was in an ankle holster.

  Charly knew the streets of Chiang Mai well. She drove rapidly but cautiously. When she hit the intersection of Route 109, she turned onto the highway and headed toward Chiang Rai.

  Culler lay dozing across the back seat, while Charly and Mac chatted quietly in the front.

  They made good time on the highway. Traffic was light in the early morning hours, and the only hazards were the speeding trucks coming south, inevitably driving in the middle of the road, forcing oncoming traffic to take evasive action. Trucks ruled the highways and the drivers made their point every time they drove a smaller vehicle onto the shoulder of the road.

  They passed quickly through Chiang Rai and headed due north on Route 110 toward Mae Chan. They passed the road Mac and Culler had taken to enter the jungle and begin their assault on Khun Ut’s warehouse. Mac pointed it out and said, “That’s the road we took in and out of there. Pretty hairy experience and I’ve got the wounds to prove it.”

  “Are you still bitching about that little scratch on your butt?”

  “A little sympathy would be in order.”

  “And that’s all you’re going to get from me—a little sympathy, very little.”

  “You are a cold-hearted wench.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  The day before, at a little before noon, Khun Ut, Ung Chea and Paiboon met at the Mae Chan warehouse to discuss what had happened there. They walked the perimeter of the building, and Paiboon briefed the other two on his analysis of what had transpired.

  “Here is where the two farangs climbed up the side of the ridge and began their assault on our warehouse,” said Paiboon, indicating the edge of the ridge and the rear of the warehouse. “They began their assault by sneaking through the jungle from that direction, from where we found their car, and climbing up from there. Then they surprised Michai who was posted over by those doors.”

  “Was he sleeping?” asked Khun Ut.

  “We don’t know. Maybe…but they were wearing jungle camouflage and using silent weapons. Maybe he just didn’t see them. They shot him in the head? Very good marksmen.”

  Ung Chea said, “They were very well equipped, boss. They used 5.56mm assault weapons equipped with suppressors, and we think night vision as well. They were very accurate and silent—like Ninjas.”

  “Mai pen rai,” said Khun Ut. “The point is these farangs are definitely not amateurs. They are well trained and well equipped. We need to find out why they were here and, more importantly, who sent them.”

  “They stole a brick of heroin, Khun Ut. We chased them away before they could steal more. Maybe they were just thieves,” said Paiboon.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But I don’t think so. By the way, you said you recovered the brick.”

  “Yes sir, they dropped it during their escape. We found it on the trail and recovered it. Kaset snorted some of it before he had a heart attack and died.”

  “What an idiot. Kaset got what he deserved. Heroin and exertion do not mix well. That is what gave him the heart attack. Good work on getting it back, Paiboon. If they were thieves, they got away empty handed.”

  The Cambodian was unconcerned about the demise of Kaset, but he was very concerned about the two farangs. “I don’t think they were thieves. I think they were CIA, boss. I have believed that from the start. I am certain they are the same guys we met in the Wancome Hotel. Only the CIA has the capability and motive to come after us like this.”

  “Mai, mai. Absolutely not. The CIA is impotent. This is not the same CIA that chased my father across the border into Burma. I know the CIA very well. I have studied this enemy very hard. It used to be strong but is now just another weak bureaucracy in Washington. They have had their nuts cut off by their own Congress. They would never authorize an operation like this. With all that killing? Never.”

  “But the CIA lady, Charly Blackburn, was at the Wangcome Hotel where the two farangs were staying. Remember? She must have been meeting with them. It could have been a coincidence that they were all there at the same time, but I really don’t believe this was a coincidence.”

  The three of them walked leisurely toward the front of the warehouse. Khun Ut was reflective. He paused and blew a long stream of smoke from his cheroot. “You are right, of course, Ung Chea. I had forgotten about that. There must be some connection to the CIA, but still…maybe they are mercenaries. They must be mercenaries.”

  “Maybe mercenaries hired by the CIA?”

  “I cannot imagine that. I have studied the CIA. Someone would have to authorize an attack like this. And even if that happened, they would not hire mercenaries. They require strict command and control over their operations and would be too afraid of what the congress and the press would say if it got out.”

  “Not even after what we did to their consulate?”

  “You must understand, Ung Chea, the CIA is still very good at collecting information. That is true. They, along with the DEA, were hurting us very badly by exposing our operations and disrup
ting our distribution networks. It is for this reason that we attacked them at their heart, their Chiang Mai Base. Our attack has set back their operations against us for years. It instilled confidence in our allies that we are strong and fear in our potential competitors and enemies like the CIA, DEA, and the Thai government. We needed to strike and strike hard, and we did. The CIA’s only possible response is to back off and try to convince the Thais to take action against us. That will not happen in my lifetime.”

  “Then who sent these mercenaries, Khun Ut? And why would they be meeting with Blackburn, a known CIA operative? We control all drug trafficking in this part of the world. We have no rivals, no competition.”

  Khun Ut stopped at the front of the warehouse and turned to face the Cambodian and Paiboon. He took a deep drag on his cheroot and expelled a lungful of smoke. “There are three people here in Thailand who can answer that question, the two farangs and Charly Blackburn. We will just have to ask one of them.”

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Charly turned the Land Cruiser off of Route 110 at the little village of Bap Basang and headed west up into the mountains on rural Route 1130 toward Doi Mae Salong.

  All of the roads this far north were unpaved and full of potholes. Small villages were scattered among the hills along the route.

  She shifted the Land Cruiser down into four-wheel-drive as they climbed higher up into the mountains. Soon she turned off onto a small dirt road heading due north toward the Burmese border.

  “This will take us up all the way to Ban Hin Taek, but we aren’t going to go quite that far. About eight or ten kilometers up this road, there will be a logging trail heading off to the right. Keep your eyes peeled for it. Our meeting with Vanquish is in a small meadow about two clicks up that trail. A pretty deserted location.”

  The Land Cruiser bounced and churned and whined its way along the rutted road up higher and higher into the mountains. Culler was awake now. He leaned forward and placed his folded arms on the front backrests. “Well, at least we know we don’t have any surveillance.”