Read Mekong Dawn Page 15


  ‘Malko has threatened to start killing hostages if he sees military helicopters flying overhead, What do you think he will do if he thinks we have discovered where he is hiding the Mekong Dawn?’

  Ang didn’t have to think about the question. He knew exactly what would happen if Malko believed his operation was about to be busted. ‘He will cut his losses and run, sir. That may or may not include disposing of the passengers.’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘He will kill them all. Just to spite us.’

  The major general nodded. ‘Follow me.’

  Ang followed the major general upstairs to his office. He went to his desk, sat down and picked up a piece of paper.

  ‘We can’t use military helicopters, Ang. It’s far too risky. But I have another option. A Japanese survey company is planning to conduct business in Cambodia. They already have a helicopter and pilot here in Phnom Penh and are waiting on the necessary approvals to commence. I have offered them a fast-track on those approvals in exchange for the use of their helicopter. I only got off the phone with their director as the embassy officials arrived. You have your helicopter, Ang. For the next two days.’ He handed Ang the sheet of paper. ‘This is your authority for fuel in Kampong Chhnang. The bean counters will have a fit, but I’ll deal with them as best I can.’ He fixed Ang with a steely gaze. ‘I have discussed the situation with the Prime Minister and we both agree that a poor outcome on this will be bad for Cambodia. I don’t need to tell you how important the tourist industry is to our country, to our economy. If Malko were to commit this atrocity the tourists will stop coming. It will be bad – for everyone.’

  Ang could see the concern in the depths of his boss’s eyes. He thought about the hundreds of square kilometres of swamp and a small ship hidden in the middle of it.

  ‘I’ll do my best, sir.’ He turned for the door.

  ‘There’s one other thing.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘The navy has reported one of their patrol boats overdue. There has been no contact with the vessel for nearly twenty-four hours.’

  ‘You think Malko did this?’

  ‘Nobody is sure. They may have broken down and be unable to raise anyone. But, if it is Malko, then he has the capability to take out an armed patrol boat.’

  ‘I’ll be careful, sir.’

  He headed to his own office and telephoned Klim.

  ‘Be here in half an hour. We will brief the strike team at 06:30.’

  ‘What’s the target?’ Klim’s voice sounded sleepy on the end of the line.

  ‘Malko.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hundreds of leeches clung to Todd’s legs, arms and torso. During the night he had tried to pluck them off, but only succeeded in rupturing the blood-filled bodies. He remembered reading somewhere that leeches need to be removed whole, or the head remains in the skin to rot and cause infection. That thought stopped him from pulling at the slimy, black sacks pulsing on his skin. But he couldn’t ignore the feeling that his life blood was being drained from him. At least his injured leg seemed to be coping all right. His calf muscle still ached, but the leg was not hampering him too much.

  With barely enough energy to keep himself afloat, his progress through the swamp had diminished to brief periods of swimming and long rests while clinging to a tree branch or laying panting on one of the muddy islets. At sunset he had seen a mountain through the trees, the antennas on its summit shining like a beacon. The sun had been on his left then, so the mountain must be somewhere to the north. Now, as he swam, he tried to keep the sunrise on his right, but the daylight and the shadows played tricks on him and he often found himself heading in the wrong direction.

  Holding on to a low branch, he rested and peered through the canopy, but the mountain remained hidden from view. The vegetation was thicker here, and he was hard put to see any farther than fifty or sixty metres.

  Dappled sunlight reflected from the water, which appeared onyx-black in this world of perpetual twilight. He twisted around the tree to judge where the strongest light came from, placed it at his right shoulder, picked another tree in the general direction of north and pushed off.

  The tree he had chosen was only twenty or so metres away, but Todd didn’t have the strength to reach it in one leg. Winded, he trod water, barely able to keep his face clear. If he didn’t reach solid ground soon, he would have to find a tree he could climb into so he could rest.

  A leech swam towards him and he thrashed at it to prevent it from joining the others attached to his skin. He flicked the leech into the distance and turned for the tree. Twenty strokes and he reached it, using the trunk to hold himself up while his breath sawed in ragged gasps.

  He got his breathing under control and repeated the process. Sun on the right shoulder. Pick a tree in the distance – not too far. Swim towards it.

  ***

  Soo-Li woke at the first hint of daylight, long before her father. For an hour or two her time would be her own, and she wandered along the edge of the swamps, staying close to the base of the mountain. Whenever they foraged for wood in this area she loved to visit one of two places, and they were both not far from where they had camped. For a few minutes she contemplated going to the ruins, the remnants of an ancient civilisation with its smiling stone faces peering out from beneath jungle growth. But the ruins were a little farther than she was willing to walk this morning in case her father should call her early.

  Her mind made up, she turned towards the water and made her way out onto a narrow spit of land.

  The aircraft sat half-submerged in the water. One wing had been ripped off during the crash and lay behind the main body. The other wing was still attached to the fuselage, its tip resting in the branches of an old banyan tree.

  Soo-Li wasn’t sure what type of aircraft it had been, but the white star and stripes on the wing told her it had once belonged to the Americans, a remnant from the war that had driven her family out of Vietnam. Her father had warned her not to touch anything in the machine, that there were things left over from the troubled times that could still cause death and mutilation. Soo-Li had no desire to play with the aircraft. Her only interest in it was to use the wing to reach a beehive in the banyan tree and retrieve some honey.

  She climbed onto the fuselage and opened her backpack. In it was a parcel wrapped in a large green leaf. Carefully, she unfolded an edge of the leaf, exposing the dry grass and ember inside. A few puffs of breath had the grass smoking and she eased her way along the wing and into the branches of the tree.

  The bees had built their hive into a hollow where the trunk forked. A few bees droned away from the hive, heading out across the swamps. Soo-Li locked one leg about the branch and blew into the grass until the smoke billowed. Then she wafted the smoke into the hive.

  ‘Go to sleep, my little babies. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want some honey for Father.’

  She waited until the bees became lethargic in the smoke and then reached into the hive and broke away a piece of honeycomb the size of a large book.

  ‘Thankyou.’

  Sliding down the trunk to the wingtip, she wrapped the dripping honeycomb in a piece of plastic and slipped it into her backpack. In the fading shadows she climbed off the aircraft and onto the spit. It had not taken too long to get the honeycomb and she contemplated a visit to the ruins. There was an ancient shrine among the tumbled pieces of masonry and Soo-Li had several pieces of fruit in her backpack to leave as an offering for her mother.

  She made up her mind to go there, but heard something splashing through the water. Thinking it might be one of the small crocodiles found in the swamps, Soo-Li slipped her backpack from her shoulders and climbed back onto the plane. Her father found the white meat delicious, and she smiled at the thought of the look on his face if she returned to camp with honey and a crocodile.

  She spotted a shadow moving through the water near one of the islets about fifty metres from the shore.

 
A confused frown creased her forehead. ‘Too big to be a crocodile.’

  A man emerged from the water and Soo-Li gasped.

  ***

  At the next tree Todd could reach the lower branches. With a little effort, he might be able to climb into it and rest, free of the water and its creatures. But beyond the tree he could see a small islet with a few low shrubs growing on it. The islet would be far easier to climb onto than the tree so he struck towards it.

  Twice he had to stop and rest. The second time, while he trod water, his foot brushed against something. The cry that came from his throat was barely audible. He kicked out at whatever lurked beneath him, thinking something big was about to make him its breakfast. But he wasn’t going without a fight. His foot struck something spongy and with a rush of relief he realised it was the bottom. He pushed his foot into the mud, found firm ground and was able to hold his head out of the water by simply standing.

  The islet was twenty metres away. He turned towards it and skipped forward. Each skip brought his head a little farther out of the water, then his chest and, finally, he was able to walk.

  Todd waded out of the water and collapsed into the bushes. The leeches squirmed against his skin but he didn’t care. Exhausted, his breath ragged gasps, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

  ‘No farther. This is where I die.’

  A voice spoke back to him, though he didn’t understand the words. He opened his eyes to discover the face of an angel peering down at him.

  ***

  It had been a rough night for the passengers and crew of the Mekong Dawn. They slept fitfully in little groups, huddled as best they could around the walls of the dining saloon. The hot night had been filled with the whine of mosquitos and the occasional flicker of a torch beam as their captors did a head count. Those people needing to relieve themselves were forced to do so in buckets behind a makeshift tablecloth screen Nancy had organised. A horrible stink wafted from that corner of the saloon.

  Scott sat on the floor with his back against the wall, munching on scrambled eggs.

  Ky had examined the adjoining galley area and found no way in or out apart from through the saloon. Stationing a guard in there, he had allowed the catering staff to return to their duties and prepare meals for the passengers and his men.

  Nancy had also been escorted through the cabins to retrieve the passengers’ medications. Scott had popped three pills as soon as she handed him the box and had taken two more this morning. He felt better. Much better. But the clarity offered by his medication also enabled him to see that he was overusing his supply. At this rate he would be out of tablets in four days. Then what?

  He hated the fact that he was dependent on medication for his well-being and peace of mind. The helicopter crash had taken two lives in an instant, but it was taking his a little piece at a time. It had been a long, hard push back to physical fitness, months in hospital, more months of rehabilitation. As far as he could tell, his body was back to normal. Maybe not the peak of fitness he had enjoyed in the army, but pretty good for a thirty-six-year-old.

  His mind – well, that was another matter. The nightmares had been relentless at the start, keeping him from the valuable sleep he needed to aid recovery. There were times when his hands shook for no apparent reason and, even with his eyes wide open, sudden visions of the ground rushing towards him were overpowering.

  Some of his work colleagues had rallied about him, offering encouragement. In an act of good but misguided intentions, they had taken Scott to the airfield for a flight in a helicopter. Scott had agreed readily enough. After all, what was the old saying? If the horse bucks you off, get back on the horse as soon as possible.

  On the walk out to the aircraft his hands had started shaking so much he couldn’t do up the seat belt buckle. When the starter kicked in to turn the engines, the fear had been too much. He’d undone the seatbelt, flung the door open and ran for the terminal.

  The next day Nancy had found him trying to tie a noose in a length of rope thrown over a patio beam. More time in hospital, more shrinks. The progress had been slow but steady, until Scott had agreed to a vacation that involved a little flying, if only in an airliner. Another step on the road to recovery, to getting back into the pilot’s seat and going to work.

  He shovelled the last of the scrambled eggs into his mouth and scowled at the armed men in the doorway.

  How much have you bastards set me back, now?

  ‘Did you take your tablet, Honey?’ Nancy stood over him with a cup of coffee that she offered.

  ‘Uh huh.’

  She’d be shocked to learn he had taken five days’ worth in just twelve hours.

  Outside, the light was growing. The heat in the saloon was already oppressive.

  ‘Another day in paradise.’ Nancy smiled and squatted on the floor beside him. Her dark hair framed her face in dank, sweat-soaked wisps. She had worked tirelessly to ensure the passengers’ comfort and health, and had been up through the night to attend their medical needs.

  ‘I wonder what they have in store for us today?’ Scott felt for the bulge of the phone in his pocket. There hadn’t been a chance to use it since being herded back to the saloon and he dared not use the phone in the darkness in case the illuminated screen alerted the guards.

  Nancy saw where his hand rested. ‘Fred and Collette are going to organise a few games. They’ll make enough noise to cover you while you try and get a message out.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ he said.

  ***

  Jenkins had found the only place in the dining saloon that might be considered private. The Australian woman playing nursemaid had arranged for some tablecloths to be set up as screens around buckets the hijackers had provided as toilets. Sitting in the corner where the screen met the windows, Jenkins spooned scrambled egg into his mouth and watched the other passengers as they fussed about each other.

  He was amazed at the amount of cohesion that had developed between a group of people that, two days ago, were total strangers. Everyone was polite and smiling, the young taking care of the aged, seeing to their comfort and needs. He wondered how long that cohesion would last if the hijackers started killing people to demonstrate their resolve to the various governments.

  He let his gaze drift along the opposite wall, taking in each face in turn. There wasn’t one person here he wouldn’t sacrifice if it meant getting off this tub with his precious cargo. The hijackers held the winning hand at the moment, but games change, people make mistakes. Jenkins was a patient man. He was prepared to watch and wait, to play the hopeless hostage – for now. Sooner or later, his chance would come, and when it did he would take it and run with it. He would get his diamonds and get out of here – and to hell with anyone who got in his way.

  ***

  After breakfast Scott helped collect the dirty dishes and took them to the galley. The catering staff were doing the best they could on limited resources. With no power to run the fridges they were trying to use up any food that would spoil, watched over by a guard with an AK74.

  He found Fred and Collette sitting with Nancy as he came back into the saloon.

  Fred leant close as Scott sat down. ‘How do you want to play this?’

  Scott looked about the saloon and tried to figure out where would be the best place to try and use the phone. His eyes settled on the curtained-off area where the toilet buckets were. It was out of sight of the guards and they would be unlikely to watch him if they thought he was just relieving himself. The nearest guard stood six metres away in the breezeway entrance.

  ‘If you can get the passengers to make a little noise, just enough to cover my voice.’

  Fred saw where Scott’s gaze had settled. ‘Good idea. Who are you going to try and call?’

  ‘Scott has a few emergency numbers pre-programmed into my phone,’ Nancy whispered. ‘Isn’t one of them the Australian embassy in Phnom Penh?’

  Scott nodded. ‘I’ll try them first. They sho
uld be able to pass on the details to whoever needs them.’

  Fred pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. ‘We’ll start the noisiest game of Pontoon ever played. You slip into the corner whenever you feel the time is right.’

  With the help of several passengers, they pulled a table closer to the curtains. One of the guards, alarmed by the movement of furniture, came in from the breezeway and pointed his gun at Fred.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘A game of cards, my old China.’ Fred held up the deck of cards. ‘Would you like us to deal you in?’

  The guard looked from the cards to the table where Scott, Nancy, Collette and a few other passengers were positioning chairs and sitting down in anticipation of the game. He shook his head, ‘No, thankyou,’ and went back out to his station in the breezeway.

  For an hour they played Pontoon, making as much noise as possible, laughing loudly at the slightest nuance of the game. Collette kept a tally of everyone’s bets on a paper napkin.

  Scott watched the guards, noting the way they had relaxed into this new routine of the hostages. At first, the bouts of raucous laughter had them watching the game intently, but now they had retreated to the far wall and were chatting among themselves. Judging his moment, he excused himself and slipped behind the curtained area in the corner.

  The guards had allowed the buckets to be emptied during the morning, but a few passengers had used them since then. Scott almost gagged at the stench and fought down the need to dry-retch. One of the high windows had been pushed open and he thought of positioning as close as possible to the fresh air but checked himself. If one of their captors was lurking close to the other side of the window, they may hear what he was up to.

  Pulling the phone from his pocket, Scott pressed the stand-by button. The screen glowed into life. He was elated to see full bars on the signal strength icon, but his spirits plummeted as he realised the battery symbol was flashing. The phone had been left switched on for too long. He could only hope there was enough power left.

  The card-playing passengers erupted into laughter and he heard Fred blurt out, ‘You’re bust,’ as he scrolled through the menu to the phonebook and found the listing for the Australian Embassy in Phnom Penh. Then he hit the green phone symbol and held the phone to his ear.