Klim!
‘That way!’ Ang pointed in the direction of the retreating man and Klim led his team down an alley that ran roughly in the right direction.
Swinging his legs over the window sill, Ang dropped onto the roof. The corrugated iron was old and rusty and heavily dented by the men who had just used it to escape. He took off across the rooftops. Behind him he heard his new partner drop onto the roof. At least he had backup.
The rooftops followed the twists and turns of the narrow street. They were all of varying heights and Ang had to climb onto the higher roofs, jump onto the lower ones. He reached the corner and rounded the roof where he had last seen the retreating man. More rooftops spread out ahead of him, a mixture of tin and tiles, running in a different direction now. There were chimneys and T.V antennas everywhere. Those yards he could see down into had clothes hanging on lines. The sound of barking dogs filled the air.
Movement beside a chimney.
Ang lifted his gun, but the man ahead of him was faster. Bullets chewed into the tiled roof all about him. He dived sideways and took cover behind a higher roof. The shooting stopped and he lifted his head.
The man was running, holding his rifle in one hand. He leapt a narrow alley and crossed onto a roof so steep he had to use his free hand to hold on to the ridge capping to prevent sliding off.
Ang sprinted towards the gap at the alley. There was no way the man could shoot at him now, he needed to concentrate on staying on the roof. Ang lifted his gun and took aim.
Beyond the fleeing man he could see other men, eighty metres away. They were out on a veranda awning, dropping to the ground one by one. He recognised Malko’s bulky frame and hoped Klim had found his way through the maze of alleys and could head him off.
‘Stop!’
The man on the roof glanced back and then increased speed. He lost his footing and his feet flew out from beneath him. Only his grip on the ridge capping prevented him from sliding off the roof. He scrambled to get up.
‘Stop!’ Ang could see his shout had no effect so he settled his sights on the man’s back and squeezed off a double-tap. The pistol jumped in his hands and the fleeing gunman jerked upright, stiffening for a moment, one hand still on the ridge capping, then he crumpled onto the roof and slid down to the gutter where his body came to rest. The assault rifle slipped from his hands and clattered onto the ground below.
Ang was up and running while his gunshots still echoed among the buildings. He leapt the narrow alley and rushed to where he had seen the men drop to the ground. Below him was a courtyard. There was a pair of vehicle gates which stood open. The road beyond was choked with traffic, hundreds of cars, trucks and buses.
Malko was gone.
***
‘Fetch the bolt cutters from the truck and search that locked room.’
The policeman turned and headed for the stairs and Ang walked back into the room that was once Malko’s hideout, still sweating heavily after his mad dash across the rooftops. Out in the courtyard his team cached those weapons they had seized. Four men were collecting the two dead bodies for transfer to the morgue. Ang snatched up one of the pieces of paper littering the room and found it was a map of the northern half of Cambodia. There was nothing marked on it. An old door lay across two wooden boxes, forming a table. He studied the other papers scattered about. They were all blank. As usual, Malko had left nothing behind that might give any clue as to his intentions or location.
Klim came into the room, an assault rifle in his hand. ‘Nothing much in the locked room, sir. Looks like it’s been cleaned out. I thought you might like to see this, though. It’s near-new.’ He worked the bolt on the AK74 and ejected a round that he caught in the palm of his hand.
Ang held out his hand and Klim gave him the round. The brass casing gleamed with newness, the lead of the round-nosed bullet was smooth and shiny.
‘This is not an old round left over from the civil war.’ Ang turned the bullet over in his fingers. ‘This has come from a new batch of ammunition, Chinese maybe, or obtained from Russia on the black market. This is not good. He has new bullets, new weapons. What else does Malko have?’
‘Is there anything of value in this room?’ Klim eyed the scattered papers.
‘Nothing that I can see.’ Ang picked up a large notebook, the type a student might use at a lecture. He walked to the window at the end of the room and flicked through the pages as he held them to the light. ‘See. Nothing. All blank.’
Klim grabbed his arm. ‘Go back to the first page, sir.’
Ang closed the notebook to the first page. The ring binding contained a furry edge of paper where the top pages had been torn out. ‘See. It is blank.’ He stabbed his finger angrily onto the sheet.
‘Hold it up to the light like you did before, sir.’
Raising a quizzical eyebrow at his subordinate, Ang held the page up to the window. Instantly an image came into view, a design impressed onto the page from the page above it. Twisting the paper in the light he was able to make out a long peanut-like shape with several lines twisting away from it.
‘What do you suppose it is, sir?’
‘I don’t know, Klim. But if Malko has anything to do with it, it can’t be good.’
Chapter Eight
Soo-Li squatted in blood-warm water and used handfuls of river sand to scrub a cooking pot. As she worked, she watched the light from the campfire play among the canopy of trees and flicker out across the water where it faded into the distant darkness. Her father had built a shelter, a tarpaulin stretched over a bamboo ridgepole and she could see him sitting on his bedroll, the firelight illuminating his face as he smoked his last cigarette of the day and watched her work.
Turning the pot to the light, Soo-Li judged her chore finished and climbed the riverbank. The fire had attracted a myriad of insects out of the swamps and they flitted about the flames in a whirling frenzy. Soon her father would kick dirt over the embers so that their sleep might be uninterrupted by the creatures.
Nguyen Hunh flicked the cigarette butt into the darkness. ‘You have finished, Princess?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘I will leave the fire burn for a little longer so that you may read one of your books.’
Soo-li smiled at him. ‘Thankyou, Father.’ She had brought several books with her, all in English, a language she was rapidly learning, for that was the language of the tourists – and tourists meant money. She went to her plastic backpack and removed one of the books, a reader her father had obtained from the market in Kampong Chhnang. She liked this book about a girl named Jane and a dog named Spot.
Hunh laid back on his bedroll. ‘Read it aloud, Princess.’
Soo-Li positioned herself so that the fire illuminated the page of her book and began to read, her voice melodic and clear. She glanced at her father over the top of the page and saw him smiling up into the darkness. She knew he understood not a word of English, only that his child, the only survivor of his family, was a very smart girl indeed.
Soo-Li read that book and another like it before placing them back in her backpack, pulling the zipper closed to keep out the moisture. ‘Don’t get up, Father. I will see to the fire.’ She climbed to her feet and kicked dirt over the burning sticks before going to her bedroll.
She lay on her back, looking up at the dark square of canvas over her head. Beside her, her father’s breathing was slow and even and she knew he was still awake.
‘Father?’
‘Yes, Princess?’
‘Will we always live in Cambodia? Do you think that one day we will go back to Vietnam?’
Her father was quiet for a moment and Soo-Li knew he was choosing his words carefully. ‘This is our home now, Princess. Your grandfather brought me here when I was a boy so that our family might escape the troubles after the war. Many Vietnamese fled up the Mekong into Cambodia to escape persecution. You have never been to Vietnam. Why do you want to go there?’
‘Is it true that I am re
ally a princess, Father?’
‘You are descended from the Nguyen lords who once ruled Vietnam. You are as much a princess as the daughters of the King of Cambodia.’
Soo-Li fought down the laugh rising in her throat. She realised her father was serious. ‘Then why do we not live in a big palace like the one in Phnom Penh? Why do we live in a hut that floats on the river?’
In the darkness she heard her father sit up. ‘History is not always kind to those in a position of privilege or power. Sometimes those in power are forced aside and a new dynasty takes its place. This is the way it has been for centuries. The way it will always be. Even the King of Cambodia was forced to flee during the terrible reign of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. He was very lucky to get his country back, to be able to come home.’
‘But, Father—’
‘Go to sleep, Princess. Save your questions for another time.’
***
Several strings of coloured lights illuminated the sundeck, giving a party-like atmosphere. Nancy tapped her foot in time with the low music playing through a sound system and sipped at her cocktail, a concoction of rum and coconut juice that brought a warm glow to her belly.
‘So what do you do for a living?
She lowered her glass and turned to Collette sitting in a cane chair opposite. ‘I’m a theatre nurse in Perth. What about you?’
Collette wore a pair of cargo shorts and a low-cut blouse that exposed her ample cleavage. She spun her drink by the stem of the glass, watching the umbrella swirl about in the little whirlpool this created. ‘Fred and I run a boat chandlery at a marina on Port Phillip Bay. He works with the boats and I handle the books, and the stock, and the customers, and the complaints.’
‘Complaints?’ Fred sat upright, his face a look of mock horror. ‘No one complains about the work of Fred Deakin.’
Collette patted his knee. ‘Settle down big fella. Most of the complaints stem from late delivery from our suppliers. Your reputation is intact.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Fred swiped the back of a hand across his brow and leant back.
‘Do you have kids?’ Nancy asked absently.
Collette nodded. ‘Two. Ben is in the Navy. Marine engineer. Sarah is married to a bank manager in Bendigo. She’s going to give us our first grandchild just after Christmas.’
‘How wonderful.’ Nancy studied the couple as they sat side by side, their free hands touching each other with genuine affection. She wondered if this might be Scott and her in twenty years or so. Very much in love and happy with their lives. ‘Does the business keep you busy?’
‘It pays the bills.’ Fred had a cigar in his hand that gave off a finger of blue smoke.
Nancy’s gaze flicked from the gold watch on Fred’s wrist to the expensive rings on Collette’s fingers. Looks like it does more than pay the bills. ‘So what brings you to Cambodia? Why a riverboat and not some big cruise liner?’
Fred gave a little laugh and Collette rubbed his knee. ‘Fred has been working small boats all his life. He doesn’t like the big cruise ships.’
‘Floating department stores.’ Fred flicked ash from his cigar. ‘Give me something where you can feel the throb of the engines through the deck and feel a little spray on your face.’
‘What are we talking about?’ Scott appeared at the table with a tray of fresh drinks from the bar.
Nancy shuffled sideways on the seat so he could sit beside her. ‘Fred and Collette run a boat chandlery in Melbourne.
‘Oh! I bet that keeps you busy?’ He squeezed in beside Nancy and took her hand.
‘Busy enough.’ Fred examined the tip of his cigar. ‘We know about Nancy, but what do you do for a crust?’
Nancy felt her husband’s hand tense, squeezing so hard she winced at the pain. The silence dragged on and she could see Fred and Collette waiting for an answer. ‘Scott’s a pilot.’ She placed her drink on the table and rubbed the back of his hand.
Collette put her empty glass on the table and picked up the fresh one. ‘Which airline?’
Nancy opened her mouth to respond, but Scott found his voice before she could speak.
‘No airline. I flew rescue helicopters for the government.’
Collette sipped her drink and adopted a satisfied look at the taste. ‘Sounds exciting.’
‘Flew? You don’t do that anymore?’ Fred examined Scott over the table.
Scott fell into silence and Nancy felt compelled to answer for her husband. ‘Scott was in a bad accident eight months ago. He hasn’t flown since. This trip is part of the recovery process, I guess.’ She looked across the table and stared into Collette’s eyes, her thoughts pleading. Please change the subject! Please change the subject!
Collette’s eyes narrowed in understanding and her head gave a slight nod. ‘I read on the daily program that tonight the captain will anchor at the south end of the lake and wait for daylight before entering the river.’
Fred took his wife’s cue. ‘I was talking to one of the officers earlier. Apparently the passage is too risky to negotiate at night.’
Scott reached for his drink. Nancy noticed the slight tremble in his hand as he gripped the glass and drained half the contents at a gulp. When they went back to their cabin she would have him take one of his tablets.
Thank God that bloody bag turned up.
Chapter Nine
Soo-Li woke in the early hours of the morning. Blinking sleep from her eyes she sat up and gazed about. Darkness enveloped the camp. She couldn’t even make out the water, only twenty paces away. Beside her, her father slept on, and she wondered if a dream had woken her. Then her ears picked out the low rumble of boat engines, somewhere far out on the water, but coming closer, the sound steadily growing.
Soo-Li knew well the sounds of the riverboats. The locals used old car engines to power their craft. Most had no mufflers on the exhausts and howled noisily.
This sound was different.
These were not old recycled car engines. These engines throbbed with a promise of power yet to be unleashed. No peasant could afford engines such as these.
A powerful light pierced the darkness and reflected off onyx-black water, playing left and right, getting stronger as the boat neared, the motor barely above idle.
Soo-Li jumped as something touched her shoulder.
‘Lay down, Princess,’ he father said. ‘Pretend to be asleep. Whoever they are, they may not appreciate us knowing they have passed.’
Laying back on her mat, Soo-Li half-closed her eyes but kept her head turned towards the water. The boat came into view, illuminated by the glare of its own searchlight, angling to pass by some twenty metres from the shore. She watched the searchlight’s beam stretch towards their camp. It traversed the bank a short distance then fastened onto her father’s boat moored between two trees. Voices drifted out of the distance, but she was unable to pick out any words above the deep rumbling engines. Then the beam of light lifted from the boat and climbed the riverbank towards the camp, searching.
Wherever the powerful light touched, night became day. Insects flitted about in the beam as it crossed above the shelter, swinging back and forth. Soo-Li thought it might miss them altogether. The boat was almost level with them now. Soon it would be past, gone into the darkness. Then the light came back down the bank and found them.
Soo-Li shut her eyes tight against the painful glare. The searchlight operator held them in the beam and the voices came again, louder than before. The voice that answered them was clear.
‘Leave them. They can do us no harm.’
The light moved away from the camp and swung back to illuminate the boat’s path. Soo-Li waited until it had moved out beyond the trees before she sat up. The powerful boat was a silhouette in the light and she could make out the shape of the helmsman standing at a console in the middle of the hull. The boat turned towards deeper water, for a moment travelling side-on to the camp and Soo-Li saw the searchlight operator perched in the bow, the shapes of many m
en – and the outline of rifles hanging from shoulders.
‘Were they soldiers, Father?’ She did not take her eyes off the boat.
‘I don’t know. But at first light we will move deeper into the swamps. I don’t want them to come back and find us here.’
Soo-Li watched the searchlight fade into the distance until only the throb of the engines could be heard. Then the boat must have reached open water out on Tonle Sap for the beat increased as the power came on. She laid back and closed her eyes, glad the men in the boat were moving rapidly away.
Chapter Ten
Scott fought desperately with the useless controls, his feet pumping at the tail rotor pedals. Through the jagged edges of shattered Perspex he watched the ground rushing towards him and filled his lungs to scream. The helicopter rocked wildly, shaking him back and forth. Then, strangely, through the horror of it all, a voice called his name and he opened his eyes.
Nancy stood over him, shaking his shoulders. She had turned on the light over her bunk and he could see the frightened look in her eyes.
‘Are you all right? You were having another nightmare.’
The sheet stuck to his sweat-soaked body. He peeled it away. Nancy let go of his shoulders, picked up a bottle of water and passed it to him. With a trembling hand, he drank thirstily.
She climbed on the bunk beside him and cradled his head in her arms. ‘It’s been a while since the last one.’
Scott nodded and stared at the wood-panelled ceiling, not daring to close his eyes in case his mind conjured up those terrible images.
‘Five nights, that’s all.’ His voice was a hoarse croak.
‘Near the beginning it was every night, Scotty. The therapy and counselling are working. You just have to give it time.’ Her voice carried a soothing tone, much as a mother would use for a child. Scott’s mind was torn by two distinct and opposite thoughts. He relished her calming tones, even needed them to get through the tough moments since the crash, but they also served as a reminder that his wife would never be a mother. No child of theirs would ever hear that motherly voice or feel the comfort of her arms. As always, he switched his thoughts to something different.