Pon smiled. “Let’s formulate a plan Khun Taksin,” he said.
Taksin saw a glimmer in Pon’s eyes that he hadn’t seen for a long time, the look of the Tinju warrior.
****
Late afternoon, Taksin, Pon, Stu, and Spock sat in the back of the limo and headed to the Imperial Palace. Pon and Taksin looked at maps and information about Vietnam, taken from the computers in the operations centre at the airport. They spoke Thai as they tried to coordinate a plan that Taksin had come up with. They both looked concerned as the plan hinged on many variables.
Spock and Stu sat on the seat opposite, and as Spock looked through a tour guide of Vietnam, he glanced over at Stu.
“What’s up buggerlugs? You seem quiet,” he asked, noticing Stu looking sullen.
Stu shrugged and said. “I’ve been trying to call Dao all day, but her phone has been off. She only turns off her phone when she goes to see her son because she told me there’s no signal in her village. But she never said that she was going.”
Spock, seeing his mate looking confused and unhappy, phoned Moo.
“Hello Goyt-head,”
Stu heard Moo mumbling before Spock asked, “Where’s Dao?”
Stu heard Moo mumbling again.
“Why don’t you know?” asked Spock
The conversation went on for five minutes and after telling Moo to call him when Dao turned up, Spock hung up, looked at Stu, and shrugged.
“Moo said that Dao went out earlier, but she didn’t know where,” said Spock and seeing Stu looking worried, he smiled and added, “she probably has a problem with her phone matey.”
“That’s strange, why Moo doesn’t know where she is, they are usually joined at the hip,” said Stu looking at Spock.
“Ach, I wouldn’t worry matey. It’s probably nothing. Moo will call me when she comes back,” said Spock, but by the way Moo had sounded, he knew that she was hiding something.
Stu sighed. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said and picked up a book from a pile. They both studied the Vietnamese pub guide.
Pon and Taksin unfolded and looked at a large road map of Vietnam.
“How long was it before Thran set up his initial road blocks?” asked Taksin.
“It would have been roughly three hours after I called him to tell him that Kim didn’t board the flight, so about 3:30 pm,” said Pon.
“So, let’s assume that the kidnappers had around three hours to make a getaway. We can Assume they could have done around 150-200 kilometres in that time,” said Taksin as he circled a section on the map to denote the area. He thought for a moment how intelligent and organised their adversaries had been so far.
Looking further down the map and then back to his markings, he saw an area that piqued his interest and showed Pon.
Taksin then pointed to an area outside Hai Phon town at a small airstrip and said. “They would have known that Thran would have set up road blocks immediately and want to be as inconspicuous and untraceable as possible. With the money and resources at their disposal, they could have easily made it to this airfield less than 100 kilometres from Hanoi Airport.”
Pon looked and nodded. “That makes sense. They knew Thran would not have considered this.”
Taksin nodded, dialled a number, and gave instructions to one of his staff to obtain any information about the airstrip. He and Pon sat back and waited.
Stu, noticing Taksin and Pon no longer studying the maps, asked. “Who were those people on the DVD, and what was the Dalek banging on about us killing them?”
Pon looked at his curious friends. “I don’t understand most of this but I will tell you what I know.” He leant forward “When we first met, I told you I was searching for the Holy Relic.”
“Huh,” said Spock puckering his brow, “and what a bloody nuisance that’s been.”
Pon smiled and told them about what had happened in Salaburi years earlier and his quest to retrieve the Holy Relic. He told them how he killed Towhey, Miguel, and his brother Dam and said that it was Dam who had killed the Arab
Spock and Stu looked gobsmacked and found some of it unbelievable having known Pon for many years. They knew about him being a monk and a Royal escort, but not an assassin. Even though he’d threatened them with a sword when they first met, they’d never assumed he would have actually used it.
Although shocked, this revelation put the pair at ease. They realised that this could be dangerous and cost them time at the Vietnamese bars, but now knowing Pon was well ‘ard, they felt safer.
After an awkward silence in the car, Pon’s smartphone rang. He looked at Thran’s number on the screen and was about to answer when Taksin stopped him. “Let me answer it.”
Pon handed Taksin the phone who pressed the button to put the call on the speaker and then pressed the green button and said. “Hello.”
“Are you Prime Master, Pon Meesilli?” said an unfamiliar voice with a Middle Eastern accent.
The four looked surprised expecting to hear the Englishman.
“Yes I am,” said Taksin. “And who are you?”
The man ignored the question and told Taksin that he must follow instructions.
“Yes,” said Taksin. “I am at the Imperial Palace waiting for an audience with the King to get permission to take the relic.”
The caller then hung up after giving Taksin several more warnings and insults.
Taksin grinned and said, “Good, he believed me, so he now thinks that I am you, Pon. We have our window of opportunity, but not for long. I now need to buy us more time.”
Spock leant over to Stu and whispered, “It doesn't sound like we will have much time for bar-crawling matey.”
They arrived at the Imperial Palace five minutes later and went into the large Conference suite now set up as the main Control Centre and alive with activity. Maps of Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam were now pinned on the walls with satellite photos and information on people, places, and equipment, strewn about.
A man approached Taksin and handed him several copies of transcripts between a man at air traffic control in Hanoi, and a supervisor at the small airstrip.
The room went silent as Taksin relayed new information to the gathered team.
With everyone speaking Thai, Stu and Spock left the Conference Centre, deciding to hunt out beer stocks when Taksin went over to the enlarged map of Vietnam and said. “A Bell 206L helicopter took off from this small airstrip at Hai Phon at 15:27. The aircraft registered a flight plan from there to Tan Son Nhat International Airport, Ho Chi Mihn city. The flight log registered two persons on board, but the air traffic controller at the airstrip reported seeing at least five people boarding. The ATC radar picked up the helicopter making an unscheduled landing here.” He pointed to the map, and marked the area with a felt pen. “The aircraft stayed here for twenty minutes before taking off again, and landed at the Ho Chi Minh airport at 18:05pm.”
Taksin looked at the details again. “Only two people, the pilot and co-pilot, logged in at flight control Ground authorities at Ho Chi Minh investigated the helicopter, which they found out had never been registered and according to the phoney paperwork they had received, it had been undergoing trials.
The pilots also had false papers and quickly disappeared. The police are searching the helicopter, to see if any evidence can be found that the abductors and Kim were on board.”
Taksin paused and then said. “We will concentrate our search in this area,” Taksin pointed to the area around where the helicopter made its unscheduled stop, which Taksin then circled.
The audience mumbled and an army officer pointed out. “That’s within dense jungle.”
Taksin nodded. “I’m aware of that Colonel,” he said, “and the nearest town is miles away and heavily policed, so here would be a perfect place to hide.” He tapped his finger within the area. “If we’re correct, we have a 75 square mile area to search.”
A man came then over to Taksin and handed him a copy of a satellite image of the a
rea, taken six months earlier.
Taksin studied that against the up-to-date image and looking bemused said. “The jungle appears to have either grown overnight, or someone put camouflage over the tree canopy. I think we have the correct location.” Taksin rubbed his forehead with frustration and thought. ‘This is too vast an area to cover in the little time we have. Without more time, it will be impossible to attempt any rescue and difficult to mobilise the Vietnamese military without the kidnappers finding out. I cannot send in the Thai army, too indiscreet.’ Taksin sighed, looked at Pon, and then had an idea.
Taksin ordered silence in the room. He took Pon’s phone and said. “It’s a long shot, but here goes nothing.”
He dialled Thran’s number and placed the phone on speakerphone.
The Middle Eastern man answered. “Have you kept to your schedule?”
“No,” said Taksin and sounded perplexed, “the King refused my request.”
The phone went silent for several seconds and the man sounding menacing and cold said. “You’re wife will be dead within the hour,”
“No, wait!” beseeched Taksin. “I can get the relic for you, but I need to steal it. You know I am in the best position to do this, but I will need more time to set things up.”
Again silence for a few seconds and then the man asked. “How much time?”
Taksin grinned, but sounding desperate, said, “I will need at least another five days. I need to plan the robbery, escape Thailand, and get to Vietnam. It will take a lot of favours and involve a few close friends, so I will need at least another five days, eight days in total.” Taksin sighed, “if I do this I can never return to Thailand, and I will be a wanted fugitive.”
They heard the man sniggering, and the phone went silent for a few moments before he said. “Wait!” and hung up.
Taksin speculated that the man would be contacting his bosses and there was silent anticipation in his office for the next twenty minutes until the phone rang.
Taksin answered and with a quake in his voice said. “Hello.”
“You have five days in total. Be in Hanoi as directed at the same time and same place. I will be contacting you every day. And remember, we are monitoring you,” the man then hung up.
A sigh of relief echoed around the room. Now they had five days to plan and complete a mission, which although they all felt wasn’t a lot of time, at least they could try. Taksin could keep in contact with the kidnapper at Thran’s house and with him now being monitored, it would leave Pon free to attempt their plan.
“This is the break we need,” said Taksin and looked at Pon, “now my friend, we can instigate our rescue plan. Call Brigadier Lee.”
Needing the help of another friend and family member, Pon called Brigadier Lee Tangh, Kim’s uncle in Cambodia.
Lee had already been told of Kim’s abduction and wanted to help.
Taksin and his aides continued to plan while Pon spoke with Lee over the phone.
The Thailand Security Chief came into the office with a file and showed it to Taksin, who read it, frowned, and asked. “See if this Duke of Southerby, Professor Julian Grimes, John Crawford, or whatever name he was now using had ever been to Thailand? Oh, and thank the FBI.”
The Security Chief nodded and left the room.
“Can I have everyone’s attention,” said Taksin, and holding up an enlarged photograph of a prisoner mug shot from Dulles Prison told them. “This is the Englishman who we are looking for. Although the FBI don’t know his whereabouts since he was broken out of prison several months ago.”
Several minutes later, a woman came into the control centre and handed Taksin a sheet of paper. Taksin looked and smiled. He got everyone’s attention again and relayed the news.
“This is from The China National Space Administration, CNSA. They picked up another trace from the American sat phone used by the kidnappers and triangulated its location close to where the helicopter had landed.”
He stuck the satellite image with a red dot on the map of the jungle on the wall and said. “It’s here, so now we have confirmed their location, and we must assume that’s where they are holding Kim.”
Taksin then looked at the image, then the map, and shook his head. “There is nothing there; no buildings or anything to suggest a hideout.
Taksin sighed and looked confused as he and the others scrutinised the information and looked puzzled.
A Thai army Colonel looked at the map and said, “Khun Taksin, it will still take days to cover that jungle terrain and there is nothing there, perhaps the Chinese got it wrong.”
Taksin then went over to a large laminated Vietnamese tourist guide map on the wall and looked. He rubbed his chin and said. “Hmm, maybe not.”
It had been a long day and after Stu and Spock chilled out in the canteen enjoying some cold beer and snacks, they filled carrier bags with cans of Singha beer for the journey ahead.
Now late, the pair were snoozing on armchairs in Pons living room when Pon came in and told them that they would be leaving soon.
He told them that the first part of the plan would be launched from Lee’s estate in Cambodia, where five of his elite commandos trained in jungle warfare waited to assist them.
Stu, Pon, and Spock went to Taksin’s office, where Taksin waited for a delivery.
Stu tried to call Dao again and looked concerned, while Spock picked his nose and watched a large military Bell 412 helicopter landing on the floodlit Imperial Palace’s helicopter pad close by.
A woman came into the office accompanied by two armed guards who stood either side of her. She wai-ed Pon and Taksin and then handed Pon a small parcel.
She wai-ed again before leaving the room. Pon put the parcel in his old cloth bag, along with the other items he needed and looking concerned, said. “The last resort.”
Ten minutes later, one depressed looking Englishman, one stupid looking large Englishman clutching onto a daft hat, and one Thai Elvis impersonator holding onto his mullet, ducked under the rotor blades and boarded the helicopter.
The chopper then took off heading south into Cambodia towards Sihanoukville for their rendezvous with Lee.
Pon sat in the front behind the pilot and co-pilot, while Spock and Stu sat with an aircrewman in the rear of the large fuselage with the side door open. The lads were having fun in the back of the helicopter and, because it flew low the entire way, they saw the lights of towns and cities. The lads thought it looked like different coloured land-stars, glittering beneath the night sky. They saw people going about their lives like ant colonies. It was fun and amazing for Spock and Stu to witness. As they got closer to their destination, the aircrewman let them sit in the open section at the side and put safety harnesses on them.
The helicopter flew a circuit, and then made a final approach towards Lee’s estate. Spock and Stu sat in the doorway having a whale of a time with the aircrewman. They dangled their legs over the side while singing about a drunken English sailor. They sploshed their cans of beer around and felt as if they were on top of the world.
The pilot gave the aircrewman an order through his head set, and assuming the two foreigners spoke Thai, said. “Thu pi yang thi rea peid, hold on while we make a sharp turn.”
Spock looked at Stu as the aircrewman stood behind them and held onto the side of the helicopter. “What did he say?” He asked.
Stu shrugged and said. “Buggered if I… whaa.”
The aircraft banked sharply to the right, jolting the two lads who grasped for handholds.
“Phew, that was close,” said Stu after the aircrewman grabbed him and pulled him further back into the helicopter as it levelled off.
Spock held onto the side door, peered down over the fuselage at the ground below, and sounding indignant said. “I dropped my bloody beer.” Then looking concerned, added. “There are houses down there, so I hope it didn’t hit anyone.”
Several minutes later, the helicopter landed on Lee’s large well-lit lawn and the passengers disemb
arked.
They ducked under the idling rotors and went over to Lee, who stood with five stony-faced soldiers from the Airborne 911 Cambodian commando unit.
****
Nick had been having an amazing few years. He now spent most of his time in Sihanoukville and only went to England when he had a few weeks of guaranteed work to make some dosh, where he still stayed with his sister, Lorraine.
Now living cheaply in Cambodia with his wife, Shanti, whom he’d married a year earlier, they lived in a Cambodian wooden one bedroom house close to Hun Sen Beach where he had lived an idyllic and calamity free life.
Nick, besotted with his lovely wife, occasionally worked in restaurants and bars around town to subsidise his income until a temporary job came up.
Shanti still worked at the Snake house, but was now the resort manager and accountant, gaining a degree in hotel management and accountancy at University several years earlier.
Although well paid for working long hours at the resort, sometimes she would not arrive home until late at night.
Nick smiled as he sat on his roof terrace and looked out to sea as moonlight bathed the bay and he watched the lights of the small fishing boats in the distance. ‘Life is great,’ he thought, and as the warm sea breeze caressed him, he smiled and sighed, reflecting on his happy existence. He took a slurp from his bottle of Angkor and looked at his watch.
This was Nick’s favourite spot, especially at night. He’d spend hours sitting, thinking, and drinking beer, until Shanti arrived home from work.
For some unexplained reason, that night seemed different. A cold chill went through him as he saw a bright light on the horizon, which appeared to be coming closer at speed. He then heard the sound of rotors and felt a sense of foreboding. He puckered his brow and juddered. ‘That’s weird,’ he thought, ‘we don’t get many helicopters flying over here, and I’ve never seen one at night before.’
Nick watched as the helicopter came closer and banked before descending. ‘That’s low.’ he thought looking at the underbelly of the large helicopter as it roared above him and then a look of horror came across his face.
Bimat--A Vietnamese Adventure Page 8
