Steven fished 2,000 baht from his own pocket and handed it to the youth. “That’s it and no more. Only American crazy rich. English have small money.”
The flashily dressed youth was clearly not satisfied, and Gunn again spoke in their native tongue.
“You’d better get your brown ass out of here or next time I’ll come back with my uncle. He’s a big man in the Thai Mafia.”
Gleaming teeth jumped into his vehicle and in a cloud of anger and accompanying dust, made a three point turn and sped back in the direction from which he’d come.
“I told him I was going to marry you and if anyone was going to rip you off, it would be me and my family. He understood that,” Gunn told Steven.
“I do speak some Thai you know,” Steven stated with a questioning look.
Gunn did what any other Thai person would do in the circumstances - stayed clam shut.
“You said you no longer had any family,” Steven casually remarked, trying to glean some information about his young Thai companion.
“That was just for sparkling tooth’s benefit. To get rid of him. Bullshit, same as what I said about marrying you.”
Steven ignored Gunn’s attempt to pay him back for his own unpleasant verbals the previous day.
“If he’s still upset about his tip, we’d better get out of here. Don’t want him coming back with any of his friends. We’ve got enough trouble crossing the border and meeting up with Kronsky. Getting involved with a small-time scam artist and his buddies, that’s all we’d need.”
“Whatever we gave him wouldn’t have been enough. It’s his territory and farangs are at a big disadvantage. That and Thai men don’t respect Thai women, so I don’t count for much in his eyes either. You’re right, we should put as much distance between us and him. You drive, I’ll navigate,” Gunn said as she sat in the passenger seat and unfolded a map.
Steven gave Gunn a mock salute before starting the engine.
“I thought you were in a hurry,” Gunn said, as Steven sat in the driver’s seat and stared straight ahead.
Steven turned round to check Rupert in the back of the jeep. He was fast asleep.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Gunn asked.
Steven gave a questioning look. “Is your uncle really a big man in the Thai Mafia?”
Gunn’s reply was inscrutable. “In government. Almost same thing.”
52
Always Expect the Unexpected
The tropical red sun completed its journey behind the distant tree-clad hills as dusk approached. “I must stretch my legs,” Steven said as he stopped the jeep and got out.
“And I must powder my nose as you say in the West”, Gunn advised.
“Well I don’t say it, but Rupert might,” Steven replied.
As Gunn disappeared into the forest, Steven took a leak where he stood.
“How butch,” Montgomery-Fairfax remarked with a haughty shrug. “You really don’t care do you, getting your thingy out and showing it around like that. I need to spend a penny too, but I’m not getting my thingy out and flashing it around like butch Steven. I’m going to be discrete like the lady I am.”
Steven looked at Rupert with disdain, but said nothing.
“Here comes Gunn, I expect she’ll be interested in seeing your thingy,” Rupert added.
Steven ignored Rupert’s jealous bitch remark.
“There’s no point in trying to cross the border tonight. We can’t go across officially anyway, so we’ll stay here until morning. It’s off the beaten track so we should be all right,” Steven told Gunn as she reappeared from the bush. “Guess we should arrive somewhere near our destination late tomorrow afternoon. What do you think?”
Gunn checked her map. “If we don’t have any mechanical problems,” she said.
“We’ve got spare gas, an extra battery and back up engine parts. Should be all right.” Steven observed.
As the moon replaced the sun in the clear night sky, Gunn made a small fire by pouring lighter fuel over a pile of sticks which she collected. Asmall blaze quickly started, illuminating their faces in the darkening atmosphere. “Lighter fuel much faster than rubbing two sticks together,” Gunn said, satirically.
Steven unwrapped a pack of cellophane-covered sandwiches and poured the contents of a bottle of mineral water into three plastic cups.
“Dear Steven’s playing mother,” Rupert said sarcastically, but with a slight grin. “Can pappa fuck mother later, after she’s washed up?”
Steven ignored Rupert’s sexually ripe riposte. “We’ll eat well enough on the packed lunches the hotel supplied for a day or so. After that it’s field rations plus anything we can hustle on the way.”
“I need to spend a penny too (use the toilet),” Rupert said as he jumped up from the back seat of the jeep and wobbled unsteadily into the nearby bush, his legs not working properly due to his cramped position during the drive north.
Gunn looked at Steven with a quizzical stare.
“I think maybe more than penny he wish to spend. Probably a thousand baht or more.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if his penny spending end (penis) and his twopenny spending end (anus) aren’t working properly,” Steven said.
“Him ladyman for sure, know when first meet,” Gunn replied with a smile. “Not pretty like Thai katoi (transsexual or cross dresser) though. Not understand why poompooee farang have two family names?”
Steven attempted to explain.
“In Britain, some people think a double-barrelled surname automatically makes them ‘upper class’. That having two family names will make them twice as eminent as everybody else. Anyway, that’s what they appear to think.”
“People very big if twice as elephant as everybody else,” Gunn said, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Eminent, not elephant,” Steven explained. “It means important.”
Gunn looked perplexed.
“Double-barrelled like shotgun? Why people wish to be more important than others? You are what you are, and how extra name do that? Sound crazy.”
“I knew you’d never understand,” Steven replied, too tired to explain the unexplainable idiosyncrasies of the British chattering classes.
“Patronising chauvinist,” Gunn replied.
“Talking about names, is Gunn short for Gunrayane (beautiful), Gunjana (Thai gold) or Gunya (young girl)?” Steven asked.
Gunn looked surprised. “So farang know more Thai than he pretend. Yet more deception.”
“You should talk. Everything’s a mystery or too long a story for you to give anything resembling the whole truth or anything remotely like it. Don’t change the subject, answer my question.”
“Gunn as in pistol will do until I know you better. You know, those things you shoot stuff out of.”
“More than one type of pistol I shoot stuff out of,” Steven said with a smile. “But enough about pleasure, back to pain - in the ass - Rupert. Where’s he got to?”
“Maybe farang katoi have trouble with toot (ass). Might need towel (sanitary) for menses (period) like lady. His ass big, many people been there before I think,” Gunn said, matter of factly.
Steven almost fell over laughing.
“That’s not really the right thing to say in polite company. You are half farang, after all.”
Gunn’s face showed a look of total incomprehension.
“What I say wrong? I tell truth or not? Own grandmother would speak same. Why you laugh?”
“I’m not laughing at you,” Steven explained. “I’ve been away from Thailand too long and got used to Western bullshit and double standards.” [*]
“But in West I see pictures of farang girls with big naked boobs in newspaper. Have pornographic magazines on display in shops showing people screwing. Not have that in Thailand. How not possible to talk about sex when show in photographs for all to see? Why not allowed to enjoy screwing in West?”
“It’s not cricket,” Steven replied.
Gunn grew even more
confused, or was she taking the piss? “English men only play cricket? Not have sex?”
“Hoop bak. Shut up.” Steven said with a smile, realising Gunn had been pulling his leg (joking).
“Let’s check our armaments to make sure everything’s ship shape and Bristol fashion (100%),” Steven suggested.
“Sound like an order to me,” Gunn said.
Steven rephrased. “Perhaps you would like to help me check our arms and supplies? Was that P.C. enough?”
Gunn relented. “OK.”
“Hope no one’s tried any behind the scenes sabotage on for size,” Steven said as he walked over to the jeep.
Gunn followed, and the combat experienced farang and his young female partner with a mysterious, multicultural background, followed military routines. Such was their familiarity with procedures mastered so effectively in the past, the arms and ammunition check was carried out on cerebral autopilot.
“Where did you learn about this kind of weapon?” Steven asked, his question ripe with double-entendre.
“Farang talk too much,” Gunn countered. [**]
“A mine of information,” Steven replied, more to himself than Gunn.
[*] Sex as sin was a notion little understood in the East, and Buddhist philosophy attached no shame to what they saw as nothing out of the ordinary: sex. Occurrences which take place between all living creatures: sex. In Thailand’s non-judgemental society, sexual matters could be referred to openly by any and every age group or gender. The sexual idiosyncrasies of male, female, dike or katoi, all could be discussed in detail. So Gunn was able to speak about the physical aspects of ladymen’s problems without the slightest hint of embarrassment. However, a decade or more of NGO and Western diplomatic influence and propaganda has introduced the guilt factor into Thailand’s sex life. The new Minister for Social Order is a result, who has now started restricting everything from private displays of nudity in clubs, opening times of restaurants where drinks are sold, to youths playing computer games in Internet cafes. Generally making everything illegal and driving it underground. The tourist industry has suffered as a result, putting many people out of work. Poor Thailand. Should have told the control-freak, politically correct in other countries to mind their own business. Backdoor Western colonialism still at work.
[**] ‘Talk too much’ is the standard Thai reply when a statement or question is posed that they did not understand, or which requires an answer that is embarrassing, personal, or will simply take too long to explain. ‘Talk too much’ ends the conversation stone dead.
53
ACase of Larceny
Steven walked over to the edge of the bush and peered into the gloom, the light from the tropical moon and the small flickering fire illuminating the scene. Deciding against checking Rupert out, he returned to the fire.
“Mr. Montgomery-Fairfax has left his document case behind. The bank draft for Khun (Mr.) Kronsky must be in there,” Gunn casually pointed out.
“Why do Thai people’s conversations almost always revolve around cash?” Steven mumbled to himself.
Gunn peered at Steven as if he understood nothing about humanity in general, and zero about Thai people in particular. “Poor people talk a lot about money,” she succinctly answered.
Steven’s lack of mindfulness had allowed Gunn to put him firmly in his place again, and he instantly utilised an inscrutable Oriental practise to cover his Western error - changed the subject.
“Might as well see if Rupert’s brought the money with him. If he hasn’t and there’s some kind of double cross going on, you and I are in big trouble. Give me your knife and I’ll trick the lock,” Steven ordered.
Gunn reached inside her leather designer handbag and pulled out the small stiletto she had taken from Field Marshal Chang’s armoury in Bangkok.
With the ease and dexterity of a professional burglar, Steven opened the case. A small plain envelope sat alone on the expensive suede lining.
Taking care not to crease or crumple the paper container, Steven pulled out a bank draft to the value of three hundred million dollars.
The couple stared at the innocuous piece of paper in total silence. “So much money,” Gunn finally said in awe.
“Cash in bearer form. A bank draft is irrevocable. This one is anyway,” Steven advised. “This piece of paper can be taken to an offshore bank and paid into a numbered account. If you then transferred it out a number of times in smaller bank drafts to other offshore bank accounts or in briefcase quantities of cash, no one would be any the wiser regarding it’s provenance. Add a few more offshore companies along the way and you would have virtual anonymity. Other than the USA, UK and some of the EEC nations, very few countries would give a damn where the cash came from anyway. Money talks.”
Steven worked quickly to avoid a confrontation with Rupert, should he suddenly return from the bush. Having Rupert try to scratch his eyes out or hit him with his handbag, was something he hoped to avoid.
Minus the bank draft, Steven carefully replaced the envelope and returned the valise to the back seat of the jeep. Folding the important piece of paper into a smaller size, he casually put three hundred million dollars in his pocket.
“Always best to have ace in hole,” Gunn said, hardly turning a hair as she computed what Steven was probably doing - creating a better hand than they had originally been dealt in their covert operation.
“What happen to Mr. Double-Barrel?” Gunn asked, changing the subject back to Rupert
“Maybe a snake’s bit his ass. We can’t have been that lucky,” Steven said, jokingly. “What would Rupert’s friends think if that happened? Died from a poisoned ass, the ultimate homosexual nightmare. The most sexually active orifice in his gay body, rotting away from snake bite. A dead shitty thing to happen.”
“That meant to be funny joke, I think. Farang humour too weird for me. Not have that in Thailand.”
Gunn’s knowledge of the outfield subtleties of farang culture stopped right there. South East Asian people would never appreciate ‘Monty Python’, and Robin Williams’stand up act would definitely blow their minds. As for Manchester’s Bernard Manning!
Steven walked over to the bush again. “I hope Rupert’s not had a heart attack or something because an ant crawled up his anus or a rabbit frightened him and made his period start.”
“Maybe you have to give Rupert kiss of life,” Gunn said, adding to Steven’s dark humour..
“He’s not my type,” Steven replied, muttering to himself as he proceeded into the bush. “What am I now, matron to an ex-public school queen? Does he really want me to help him wipe his bum now? The things I do for a living. At least this time I’m being properly paid. Let’s hope I manage to get out alive and enjoy it.”
Re-emerging from the bush a minute later, Steven looked decidedly pissed off.
“Rupert’s nowhere to be seen and it looks as if there’s been a struggle. I don’t think a wild animal’s got him though, the only shit was human. Did we really have to lose Rupert? But at least we’ve got the money, that should keep us safe from Kronsky all the time it’s in our possession.”
“I don’t think you like Rupert,” Gunn remarked.
“He’s certainly not my best friend,” Steven replied.
“There are many hill tribes dotted throughout the region. Some of the younger men could be tempted to kidnap a farang to rob or ransom him off,” Gunn explained.
Steven was uncertain. “I’m inclined to leave him. If he gets mixed up in any local trouble, a side action could jeopardise our mission. We have the money so don’t really need him.” Steven’s expression suggested that his worst fears were coming true.
“Shit, I thought I was finished with missions in unfriendly terrain when I left the SAS. Wouldn’t be surprised if someone at Whitehall hoped Rupert wouldn’t come back. My military dossier confirms that I got the sack for failing to carry out an operation properly, so perhaps they were relying on me to screw up again. But Rupert knew it was really hi
m that ballsed up, and he’s been banking on me to keep him safe. Maybe both sides have been playing games. But I guess we’d better try and find him. Let’s head off into the jungle before whoever’s got him gets too much of a head start.”
“Think Buddha rubbed off on Steven Hunt during time in South East Asia,” Gunn said, thoughtfully.
Steven did not reply. Character references were not currently part of his programme. He might need one after the mission was over - if he survived - but right now he would concentrate on getting Rupert back.
54
The Bush
Hacking through the dense undergrowth at night was slow and difficult. As they fought the jungle, Steven attempted to improve the chances of success by finding out more about what made Gunn tick. Perhaps she had some skill or past experience that could be utilised.
“Gunn, why are you here with me putting yourself in danger? You could be making big money doing something far more pleasant.”
“Sweet mouth suddenly. What do you want?” “Nothing. Just wanting to know what noble cause prompts you to be here in dangerville with me,” Steven replied.
“Roundabout way of asking why I not marry rich farang or work at Patpong. Very bad man. Only think of sex when talk about Thai woman. You example of male chauvinist pig, I think.” Gunn admonished what she thought was Steven’s cynicism towards her, females in general, and Siamese women in particular.
“You wouldn’t need to work at Patpong. But there’d be a million farangs wanting to marry you if you played your cards right. Might even find a man you could genuinely love,” Steven said, mellowing towards the young woman risking her life alongside his.
“Maybe start to like me again,” Gunn replied, seeking to understand the subtleties of farang left-brain thinking. “Wait though, was that a proposal?”
Steven’s answer was to hit an overhanging branch with his large combat knife.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Gunn said.
Sleepless in Bangkok Page 15