Plausible Denial

by Rustmann Jr. , F. W.

  Ung Chea was breathing heavily from the exertion, but pleased at the results. He took a deep, calming breath. “Now everyone sit down quietly and listen to what will happen to you if you do not tell me the whole story and cooperate fully with me from now on.”

  Chapter Ninety-One

  Santos and MacMurphy were relaxing out of sight at the edge of the jungle when the general returned Mac’s call. They had changed back into jeans and tee shirts, but kept their assault weapons close at hand.

  “Hello. This is Sawat. I am sorry I missed your call. Is this Mr. Humphrey?”

  “Yes,” said Mac. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. Just fine. Are you ready to be picked up?”

  “Yes, as soon as possible. Can you use the chopper? It’ll be faster.”

  “The chopper? No problem. Are you in the same place?”

  “Yes, at the old petrol station. You can take us back to the airport. Okay?”

  “Okay, I will leave right away. I should be there a little before noon. Is that alright?”

  “Sure, as early as possible. We’ll be waiting. See you then. Bye.”

  “Good bye Mr. Humphrey.”

  Santos watched Mac closely during the conversation. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He seemed… I don’t know…frightened…nervous maybe. He certainly wasn’t his jovial old self, and I don’t like the way he cut me off when I called the first time. That was strange…”

  Culler thought for a moment. “What was it old Bert used to say while we were in training down on The Farm? ‘If it doesn’t taste good, spit it out.’ Something like that. Remember Bert?”

  “Oh yeah, I remember him – huge guy who taught jungle survival. He’s the one who showed us how to catch monkeys, snakes and all that good stuff to eat.”

  “That’s him. He was referring to plants when he made that remark. He said there were lots of good things to eat in the jungle, but you had to be careful because some things could poison you.”

  Mac chuckled, “So he told us to taste first and if it tastes bitter or rotten to spit it out. He said your tongue was put in your mouth for a reason – to stop things that might kill you going past it down into your stomach.”

  Culler pulled at his ear. “So what do you think? Should we spit this one out?”

  “Yep, I do. I really do. Let’s not hang around here and wait to get ambushed by Khun Ut’s men. I don’t want another shootout. Let’s just get the hell out of Dodge on our own.”

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  Culler and Mac gathered up their gear, put their assault rifles and Ghillie-suits out of sight in their duffle bags and donned their hats and light disguises. They carried their handguns concealed under their shirts in the small of their backs.

  They walked out of the jungle, across the junk yard and stopped at the abandoned filling station by the side of the road.

  “What do you think?” asked MacMurphy. “Do we hitch a ride, steal a car, what?”

  “I don’t see any cars around here to steal. We could walk back towards the town. There must be something we could grab in town.”

  An old pickup truck rounded the curve and rattled toward them. Mac dropped his bag and hurried to the side of the road and put his thumb out. The driver, an elderly man with a woman sitting beside him, started to slow down but when he saw the two of them he sped up and made a wide circle around them.

  “I think we look too threatening,” said Mac, watching the rear of the vehicle disappear down the road. “Why don’t you take the bags and get out of sight behind the garage. Maybe it’ll be easier to get someone to stop if there is only one of us.”

  Two more cars passed without stopping. Mac glanced at his watch. Almost an hour had passed since they spoke with General Sawat. They were running out of time. They had to get out of there and on their way pretty soon or they were going to end up fighting Khun Ut’s men again.

  Then he had an idea…

  He ran back to where Culler was hiding with the bags and opened his duffle bag.

  “What are you doing?” Culler asked.

  “Getting some money,” Mac replied. He pulled a wad of $100 bills out of the bag and hurried back toward the road.

  He waited and waited, sweating and pacing up and down the side of the road, glancing at his watch every few moments. They had to get moving.

  He heard it before he saw it – a large truck growling and grinding gears was heading toward them from the north. He stepped out into the middle of the road and held out a fan of green $100 bills and waved them at the driver.

  The truck, loaded with burlap bags full of charcoal, rounded the curve and the driver dropped it down a gear and hit the accelerator. Mac barred his way, waving both hands for him to stop and holding the money up high so the driver could see.

  At first it appeared the truck was going to run him down, but then Mac could see the driver’s eyes widen when he saw the money.

  The driver hit the brakes and brought the truck to a screeching halt in the middle of the road inches in front of Mac.

  Mac walked around to the driver’s side, still holding the money in his hand in front of him and waving it at the driver. “Sawatdee khrap,” said Mac with a deep wai.

  The puzzled driver, covered in charcoal dust, replied, “Sawatdee khrap,” and returned the wai hesitatingly.

  In halting Thai and with gestures, Mac indicated he needed a lift south and handed the driver one of the hundred dollar bills. The driver took the bill with wide eyes and nodded while regarding the remaining bills in Mac’s hand quizzically.

  Mac called to Culller who came running toward them carrying both duffle bags. When the driver flinched, he removed another one of the bills and handed it to the driver. The driver was catching on. He gave Mac a grateful wei and said, “Khrap khoon khrap.”

  “Mai pen rai, khrap,” said Mac.

  Culler and Mac climbed onto the dusty long wooden bench that served as a front seat for the old truck and slid in next to the driver. They stowed their duffle bags under their feet and the driver pulled out, gears grinding, heading south. They were glad to be on their way out of Wan La-ba.

  The driver drove like a maniac, hogging the middle of the road and forcing oncoming traffic off onto the shoulders of the road to avoid him.

  Like most Thai truck drivers, he chewed the mildly narcotic betel nut to help keep him awake and to relieve the boredom of driving. He spat the brown betel nut juice out his window like a cowboy.

  The spray annoyed Culler but he said nothing, happy to have finally gotten a lift out of Wan La-ba.

  Mac used his limited Thai vocabulary to engage the driver in polite conversation while they careened down the highway. The driver was surprised and happy to chat with a farang in Thai. He smiled broadly showing a mouthful of teeth blackened by years of betel nut.

  Mac learned that the driver was headed for Krung Thep – Bangkok – with a load of charcoal collected from northern villages. That was good news. It meant he would be driving straight through Chiang Mai. The driver agreed to drop them off at the airport in Chiang Mai on his way.

  Mac rewarded him with another $100 bill. The driver beamed and thanked him profusely. He was holding more money in his hand than he had seen in his entire life. He was deeply grateful for the luck he was experiencing today. The driver reached up and rubbed the belly of the jade Buddha which dangled from his rear view mirror.

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  It was close to noon when the charcoal truck reached the outskirts of Chiang Rai. Culler and Mac slouched down in the uncomfortable hardwood bench which doubled as a front seat, trying to keep out of sight. Soon they would be at the airport in Chiang Mai. They could not relax until they had retrieved their vehicle and were safely back at their safehouse apartment.

  The driver was making good time, contentedly chewing his betel and keeping the accelerator of the old truck to the floor. They prayed they would get there safely without an accid
ent. They didn’t want anything else going wrong.

  Mac’s cell phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. He glanced at the caller ID and recognized the Sawat’s number. He looked over at Culler, giving him a slight nod, and answered, “Hello.”

  “Hello Mr. Humphrey. This is General Sawat. I am here at the petrol station but I do not see you.”

  Mac could hear the sound of the helicopter’s prop churning and the nervousness in the general’s voice. “I’m very sorry, General Sawat. We’re on our way but we’ve had a slight mishap. Mr. Callaway has injured his ankle and it’s taking us longer than we expected to get out of here. Please wait for us. We should be there within the hour. I’m very sorry to keep you waiting.”

  There was a long pause before the general answered, “Okay, okay, Mr. Humphrey. I will wait for you here.” Then another pause and, “You are in the jungle, correct? And will be coming out at the same spot…”

  “Of course. Just stay there and wait for us. We’re moving slowly because, well, it looks like Mr. Callaway has broken his ankle. He’s in great pain and can’t move very fast. We’ll be there shortly. Please be patient and wait for us. We’re on our way. Okay?”

  “Okay, Mr. Humphrey. I will wait for you right here. Goodbye.”

  “Thank you General Sawat. See you soon. Goodbye.”

  Mac glanced over at the driver for any indication he had understood anything that was said. There was none. The driver’s bleary eyes were fixed on the road ahead of him. All of his attention was focused on getting his truck to Bangkok as soon as possible so he could begin celebrating with his newfound wealth.

  Mac leaned close to Culler and spoke in hushed tones. “That should buy us enough time to get to the airport, collect the Land Cruiser and get out of there before he realizes we’ve tricked him.”

  “I certainly hope so, because if he’s betrayed us, he knows our ultimate destination. You told Sawat you wanted him to take us back to the airport and you can bet the farm he conveyed that information to Khun Ut.”

  “You’re right. Shit. No doubt about it.”

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the truck’s right front tire blew and the wide-eyed driver nursed the wobbling old wreck to the side of the road and rolled to a stop.

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  Tell me exactly what he said.” The Cambodian, sat next to General Sawat in the front seat of the helicopter, rotor chomping the air above them. He emphasized the word “exactly.”

  “He said they are running behind schedule. The big one broke his ankle and they are moving slowly but are on their way.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Yes, of course. Why should I not believe them? They know nothing about you. They will come out of the woods right here where they said they would. They will not get lost. This is where they went in, and this is where they will come out.”

  The Cambodian stared at Sawat for a long time, looking for a sign of duplicity. But there was none.

  Sawat was a beaten, humbled man. It hadn’t taken much to turn him. Only a few hard blows and the threat of a painful death – and that he would slice off Noi’s gorgeous breasts and feed them to him, fried with sticky rice and curry sauce, for his last meal.

  “Okay, turn this thing off and stay here where they can see you when they come out of the woods. And don’t do anything stupid, old man, my men have you and this whole area surrounded, and you will be the first to die if you betray us.”

  The general cut the engine and sat back in his seat to wait. Ung Chea jumped down and slammed the door shut behind him. He pulled his walkie-talkie from his belt and spoke into it as he jogged out of sight around the front of the filling station.

  “Okay, settle in and stay out of sight. They are running late. Keep your eyes open and do not fire until they are out in the open and you have a clear shot. And make sure you get both of them. They will exit from the north behind the junk yard and head toward the helicopter. You will have plenty of time so don’t rush things. Be patient and stay down and out of sight.”

  One by one his men responded in acknowledgement.

  He sat down on the ground in a doorway and lit a cigarette. After collecting his thoughts, he called Khun Ut and relayed what had happened.

  “…so I have eight men deployed around the area. They are well concealed around the edge of the woods and will cut the farangs down when they come out into the open. Sawat is in his helicopter in plain view as a decoy, but they will never get that far.”

  “Are you sure they are still in the jungle?”

  “Sir, um, I think so. I heard Sawat speaking to them. I mean, that is what they said. They are just delayed because the big one broke his ankle.”

  “Maybe, but then again, maybe not. Do not believe everything people tell you, Ung Chea, especially those guys. They can be very tricky. Are you certain they do not suspect anything? Did Sawat act completely normal while he was talking to them?”

  “I, I think so, sir. Maybe he was a little nervous and out of breath because I had to smack him around a bit, but nothing he said was out of the normal. I guess it’s possible they could be tipped off, but, I don’t know…”

  “I hope you didn’t knock him around too much. General Sawat is a wily old fox and when he is cornered he will tell the truth – maybe not the whole truth, but the truth just the same. I owe him a lot.”

  “No sir, I did not know. What could you possibly be in his debt for?”

  “He saved my father’s life. Twice, actually.”

  “Twice? Really? How did he do that?”

  “The first time happened in the early eighties when the new Thai Prime Minister, General Prem, and the CIA got together to launch a secret bombing raid on my father’s headquarters in Ban Hin Taek. It was planned in such secrecy that even the pilots thought they were going on a routine live fire training mission. They had no idea what they were about to do. Not until they were in the air were they given the coordinates of my father’s house and told to destroy it.

  “But Sawat – he was a police colonel in charge of the Northern Thailand District at the time – heard the order to divert the bombers and immediately informed Khun Sa, who managed to escape only moments before the bombs began to land.”

  “Wow! Yes, I heard about that raid, but I did not know it was Sawat who tipped off Khun Sa. I am sorry I had to rough him up.”

  “Yes, it was Sawat. He saved my father again two years later when another Thai Prime Minister, General Chavalit, tried a similar secret raid on my father’s headquarters. Sawat’s tip saved my father once again. Very few people know that it was Sawat who gave us those tips. So I owe the man a lot.”

  “Yes, now I understand, Khun Ut.”

  “But do not worry, Ung Chea, you did the right thing. Just do not overdo it with the old man. Loyalty is of great value to me and it works both ways. I do not consider that Sawat has been disloyal. Not yet anyway. He just works for those who pay him…but that said, you may be correct in thinking he has tipped them off. Inadvertently or on purpose. So…maybe we should alert the police to the possibility that they may have made their own way to the airport, if that is where they are headed.”

  “Yes sir. Good idea. That is where Sawat picked them up and that is where they said they wanted to return. Maybe they are taking a flight out of there.”

  “Or maybe they have a car parked there or maybe they have someone waiting to pick them up. Anyway, I’ll alert the police at Chiang Mai International Airport to be on the lookout for them. They are wanted criminals and the police will welcome the tip. I’ll also send a couple of our guys from Chiang Mai to look for them. It may be unnecessary, but better to be on the safe side.”

  “Thanks, boss. I’ll keep you posted on what is going on here.”

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  Fuck!” said Santos, pounding his fist on the dashboard. “Fucking Murphy’s Law. if something can go wrong, it will. Let’s get the fucking tire changed. Quick. He’s got a spare, rig
ht? Please tell me he’s got a spare.”

  Mac spoke with the driver, who shook his head, and then turned to Culler. “Sorry, no spare…”

  “Got any other great ideas?”

  “We need to hitch another ride.”

  They were on the outskirts of Chiang Rai when the tire blew. The highway was lined with small, one story shops and noodle restaurants with corrugated steel roofs and flaking paint. It was lunchtime and a number of cars and trucks were parked in front of the businesses near the side of the road.

  One restaurant near them had a large neon sign over the door spelling out the name “Pak Essan.” It appeared to be more upscale than the rest and several cars were parked directly in front of it.

  They recognized the area immediately. The Orchid Lodge, where they had stayed and met the young American couple, was a few hundred meters down the road.

  The three of them jumped out of the truck and stood looking disgustedly down at the flat tire. Mac said, “This place brings back bad memories.”

  “You got that right. Let’s get out of here tout de suite before someone recognizes us. I’m sure every last one of these people has heard about the car that blew up at the Orchid Lodge and the two farangs who were involved.”

  Mac glanced around him and his eyes fell on the Pak Essan Restaurant. “I’ve got an idea.”

  He turned to the driver, held out another one hundred dollar bill, and in halting Thai said, “Please go into that restaurant and ask if anyone would be interested in taking your two friends to Chiang Mai while you fix your truck. We will pay one hundred dollars for the ride, but we must leave immediately.”

  The driver happily pocketed the one hundred dollar bill and took off at a trot for the restaurant.

  “Those hundred dollar bills sure work magic, don’t they?” said Culler.

  “Money is the best weapon there is – far better than guns and intimidation. But we’ll see in a minute just how magical those Ben Franklins are. Try to stay out of sight and keep your fingers crossed.”