The Defector

by Mark Chisnell

  ‘Of course you may be convinced that you are smarter than my man and can elude him, especially in Australia which is a little more like home ground. You could turn the drugs over to the police and escape. This is an appealing proposition. Can you outwit me and my men and get to home base a hero? An attractive choice that avoids all of the unpleasant consequences associated with the others - if you pull it off. Rather unfortunate if you do, since it would spoil the game. A choice with no bad consequences, public or personal? We can't have that. And of course it is possible. My man isn't perfect. So I want you to understand, and this is most important, that it will not finish there. I, personally, will hunt you down and find you. And we will play a final round of our game, Martin. One which you may survive. But at what price?’ He ground out the final sentence and I stared into those eyes for another half second. I was numb.

  He stepped up and away, his tone was lighter, he'd made his point, ‘So, you can opt out and stay here. Or take the drugs and make the ultimate personal sacrifice. But perhaps you'd prefer just to look after number one and deliver the drugs, but at what cost to other people? None of them are good choices are they, Martin? And I know the one you're most attracted to - play to win, outsmart the bad guy. But remember, win that round and we'll play again.’ He laughed now, a dry throaty cackle. ‘Your choice, you can have a few minutes to think about it.’ He started to move towards the door.

  ‘What happens if I just get caught?’ I said, stupidly.

  He turned and looked at me. ‘Well, I guess you die, as my man will have no way of knowing that it wasn't set-up. It's in your interests to do a good job. And his, it has been explained to him that either the drugs arrive safely at the address or your dead body does. Otherwise it's his neck, another concern in your decision perhaps. Maybe not high on the pros or cons of any list, but another life in the balance. I'll be back in say,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘half an hour.’

  I watched him disappear out of the door and the room fell quiet. I could feel the anger slowly building inside me, until finally I leapt from the chair, turned and kicked it as hard as I could. The chair spun across the room and I hopped around for a while cursing fluidly. None of this provoked any reaction whatsoever from outside and finally I calmed down sufficiently to recover the chair and sit down. I dropped my head into my hands. I had to think.

  It didn't take long after that to come to a decision. It was clear that I had to take the drugs. Staying here was just rolling over and playing dead, at best I'd end up rotting in a Thai jail for years and at worst I'd be properly dead. But if I took the drugs the game was on, it could go either way. There was a chance. Whatever I subsequently decided, this was the only option now. I'd like to say that I took the package out of some more noble motives. That in that moment I decided I would get the police involved, hand the stuff over to them at whatever cost. But it's not true, I figured I could just do it exactly as he said and walk away.

  He returned a couple of minutes after I had decided, another cigarette dangling languidly from those thin fingers. He looked at me enquiringly.

  ‘I'll do it.’ I said, simply.

  He smiled. ‘Good, excellent, I knew you'd want to play. You're booked on a flight to Sydney later this morning.’

  ‘But..’ I started and then stopped. Alex, the cop, was from Sydney. And Kate and Scott were flying there today too.

  ‘But...?’ said Janac, tauntingly.

  ‘But..’ I thought quickly. I didn't want to mention Kate and Scott. ‘But that cop, he was...’ Had Janac or Alex told me he was from Sydney? ‘He was, is Australian, isn't he? He saw me, he might have pictures...’

  ‘Did I say it was going to be easy, Martin?’ Janac sneered, ‘One of my men will pick you up and take you to your plane. They will bring you your things, tickets and passport and of course, the package. You're lucky you already have a visa, which will give you a better chance than going in with one of ours.’ He handed over a slip of paper, ‘This is the address that you will deliver it to. Just push it through the front door. If you haven't done so within twenty four hours of arriving in Sydney, my man will assume that you have turned against us. You know what happens next.’

  I glanced at the address.

  ‘I suggest you memorise that.’

  I looked at him blankly, struggling to keep the inner turmoil from showing. He smiled at me, ‘Good luck, Martin, I'm sure news of your progress will keep me entertained for some time.’ He laughed, and I could hear him chuckling to himself as his footsteps receded away down the hall.

  Chapter 8

  Slamming the toilet door shut, I collapsed on the seat and tried to get my breathing back under control. God that was close. I'd nearly walked straight into them. I'd spoken to no one since they let me out that morning, right through the flight to Bangkok and a couple of hours killing time in the airport. I'd done nothing that could be interpreted as trying to get help. Instead, I'd been trying to remember faces, trying to spot the minders Janac had sent to accompany me. I was sure he would send more than one of them to keep tabs on a couple of kilos of uncut heroin. Remembering faces had been the problem, not recognizing them.

  Until I had decided to check-in for the flight to Sydney, and had just about come face to face with Kate and Scott breezing across the arrivals hall. If I hadn't bolted into the bathroom they'd have seen me. I'd thought it was all right: I was on the first flight out of Ko Samui and I knew they weren't flying till lunchtime. But the five hour stopover in Bangkok left plenty of time for later flights from Ko Samui to get here. I pulled a hand through my hair, and tried to wet dried lips. The bottom one twinged painfully where Janac had busted it open. Christ I was tired, but I had to concentrate. Another slip up like that and it was all over. And now they were on the same plane to Sydney. There was no doubt about it. It was the only Quantas flight down there today, and that was the check-in desk they were headed for. It was the worst possible scenario. If Kate tried to say hello or start a conversation, as she certainly would if she saw me, I was finished.

  I could feel the sweat prickling away beneath the strapping that held the two kilos of heroin under my shirt. If the Thai authorities caught me before the plane took off I was dead. Tried, judged and executed. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. It was still shaking. I needed a drink, or a cigarette, or both. All I wanted to do was get out of here, keep the minders happy, play it cool in Sydney and hope I made it through. And now I had this to deal with. I slammed my hand against the wall as the frustration boiled over. ‘Dammit!’

  ‘Steady on son.’ came a very English voice over the dividing wall.

  I stood up and took three deep breaths, counting to five on the exhalations. I flushed the toilet, picked up my bag and stepped outside. There was no one in the little bathroom. I caught sight of myself in a mirror. It wasn't too bad. They had let me shower and shave this morning, given me my gear and I'd found some cleanish clothes. Even with just a loose t-shirt on there was no sign of the strapping. But I couldn't look myself in the eye. I swallowed, tried to steel myself. There was no choice. I had to deliver this shit.

  I eased out of the bathroom carefully, shivering a little. The air conditioning was on so high it was chilling the sweat off my shirt. At least I had cooled off, the burning panic was gone. The hall was busy, echoing with the click of heels on the stone, the hum of quiet conversations, the occasional public address announcement. Kate and Scott were being processed right now, another couple of minutes and they would be clear. I scanned the rest of the crowd. I had spotted four possible minders so far, all men and all Thais. Now I couldn't see any of them. But someone was out there, someone was watching. The thought propelled me forwards.

  I stepped cautiously into the hall, watching Kate and Scott through the crowd, ready to move away, duck and hide if they turned. Kate was gathering up the tickets and passports. Scott picked up his briefcase, moved off. Kate was struggling with the zip pocket on her bag. The blonde hair had fallen forward, hi
ding her face. Then she glanced over her shoulder. There was a sudden stillness in all those about us. I could see her so clearly. I was looking straight into those blue eyes. And I could see everything. The past. And another future. If I could win. It was a moment frozen in time. For me, a moment of recognition, of decision. She didn't see me. She turned again and was gone. I stood for a second longer. Now I knew what I must do.

  Somehow I forced myself forward again. Avoiding the queues for economy I went straight to the first class check-in. ‘I'd like to upgrade this ticket to first class please, whatever it costs.’

  The girl looked me over appraisingly. I knew I wasn't that impressive, crumpled and casual. I snapped my Gold Visa card down beside the ticket.

  Now she smiled sweetly, picked it all up and said, ‘Let's see what we can do sir.’ There was a half minute of tapping at the keyboard and then, ‘We have one seat left sir?’

  I nodded yes. It was risky because the minders might regard it as an attempt to throw them off. But it was the only way to guarantee not having to face Kate and Scott on the plane. And it worked. I hung back from the gate, drinking watery coffee in a cafe, until the last boarding call. One of the men I'd identified as a possible minder stayed back with me. Playing safe, he wanted to see me on board. But now I had his number, I knew him. When I arrived at the gate only a handful of people were still queuing. I joined the back, and brandishing my boarding pass like a magic wand, I stepped on to the plane, turned sharp left and disappeared behind the comforting security of the first class curtain - safe for a while.

  I had tried to sleep, but it was hopeless. I gazed around the cabin, dark, the blinds pulled down. The only light was the flicker of the wordless movie on the screen. The only sound the all-encompassing roar of the jet engines. I glanced at my watch, four hours to Sydney. By the time we landed it would be nearly twenty four since Janac's flunkeys had hauled me out of bed. And every second of it had been spent wound up to the max. I tried to concentrate on the decision I had made and the new problems it presented.

  The plan had been simple. Do as I was told. Get through customs if I could, drop off the drugs and then get the hell out of there. That was the decision Janac wanted me to make. I'd been all set to play the defector - till I saw Kate. But now...? I just couldn't do it. I had to try something, I couldn't let her see me get shot or arrested as a smuggler. Because I knew I didn't stand a bat's chance in hell of making it through customs. Apart from the normal risks, I was known by name and face to an Australian narc. I had no chance. It ended for me in death or jail. But at least I could make Kate believe I was trying to do the right thing when I went down.

  And if by some miracle I did make it through customs, the future I wanted was with Kate. If I was to make that happen, I had to do the right thing. And I'd have to be real smart about it or getting through customs would be a very short reprieve. If Janac ever found out I'd gone to the cops, if I made the slightest mistake... I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I'd made the decision, the problem now was how to enact it.

  It was clear that talking to anyone was too risky with the minders on me this tight. The guy I had tagged was up here in first class with me. But if I could get a message to Kate, she could call Alex and tell him about the pick-up. It was the only way I had a chance. I could write her a note, and because I'd already told her about Janac she would understand what I needed. And she was a buffer between me and the cops. It was vital that they didn't talk to me at any stage: Janac's minders could still be watching even if I did make it through to and beyond the drop-off. And in Alex I had a cop who knew me, and Janac and his methods, would take Kate seriously and would respond quickly. I fingered the piece of paper he had given me. If you get sucked in and want to join the good guys, that's what he'd said. All the pieces were there. But I still had one problem. How to get the message to Kate without her seeing me.

  My options were limited, it was way too risky to walk back down the plane. Unless they were both asleep, I'd get nowhere near them before they saw me. It was also too risky to ask one of the hostesses to give them the note, the minder could see me do it, and his friend or friends back there in economy would see who received it. That left the period between disembarking and customs. It would be easier to approach them from behind, try to sneak up and drop it in a pocket. But first class passengers would disembark first. I'd have to get off quickly, and perhaps duck into a bathroom and wait there. Or get close to them in the crowd at the baggage claim. I started to sweat a little at the thought of it. This was not going to be easy.

  The first problem was to write the note. As casually as possible I reached into my bag on the floor and, rummaging around, found my pen. I slid it into my sock and pulled my hand out of the bag holding a paperback book. Settling back to read it I gently tore one of the plain sheets from the back and slipped that into my pocket. Then I forced myself to wait a full fifteen minutes before I moved. Counting to sixty, turning each unread, unseen page after a minute. Finally I unclipped the seatbelt and eased myself upwards. I walked forward to the toilets. Once inside I quickly started to write.

  Kate,

  I hope you get this, if you don't I have failed. I am being forced to carry 2ks of heroin into Australia. I have the drugs on me and a gunman watching me. If I make any attempt to get help they will kill me. That is why I cannot talk to you.

  I want you to contact the police for me. Tell them you can give them the address where I will drop off the drugs, and the time. In exchange I want immunity and anonymity. They can only watch the drop-off, and must take no action until at least a week has passed. Tell them nothing until they agree to these terms. Janac will come after me if he discovers that I've gone to the cops. All communications must come via you.

  While I was on Ko Samui I was contacted by an Australian undercover cop, who was tailing Janac. His name is Alex. He knows all about Janac. His phone number is 02 954 9966. I will contact you a few days after we get to Sydney. When that happens you must pretend that we are only casual acquaintances.

  I will drop the drugs off at six pm, the address is 14 Mount St. Manly. If there is no deal I can drop the drugs and disappear. Do not try to talk to me, whatever happens at customs in Australia, or any other time. You cannot help, only put yourself in danger.

  I stopped. But I had to say it, it might be my last chance.

  Kate, I love you, I always have and I always will.

  Yours always,

  I signed it and folded it into a tight square, flushed the toilet and returned to my seat. I thought back over the message. And wondered if Scott would read it. But if I wasn't going to make it, she had to know.

  He had me by the arm, another was picking up my bag, ‘This way please, sir.’ Pressure at my elbow.

  I tried to think, but behind me there was a scream, the officer was moving, ducking, yelling, ‘Gun!’

  I started....someone was gently shaking my arm. There was a wonderful moment of relief as I realised that I had finally managed to sleep. I looked around, my head throbbing.

  ‘Put your seat back up please sir, we're approaching the landing.’

  And then I remembered the nightmare was real. I stared at the seatback in front and tried to get my heart under control as we descended into the landing. Occasional roars of extra power from the engines punctuating the drone of their background noise. I couldn't see how low we were until the wheels bumped and the plane shuddered. The engines roared as the brakes went on and I could feel the strap pulling on my waist as we slowed. We had arrived.

  I struggled to my feet, grabbing my bag and heading over to the door. As I expected we were let go first. I took only the briefest of glances at the crowd of passengers as I charged through the door. There were no shouts behind me. I was clear so far, slipping, sliding downstream with the flow of people. I felt giddy with the blood that was pumping round my brain. Everything was going slowly, as it does in an accident. In that split second when all the doing is over, and there is only the crash
to come.

  I followed the few passengers in front through plain corridors. There was nothing I could escape into, only closed doors and private signs. All too quickly we were at the entrance of a large airy hall. I hesitated, panic rising, where was I going to give her the note? Here was the first test already, the immigration officials. I stepped up from the red line to a woman officer and I dropped my bag by her counter, ‘Good morning.’ I said, handing over my passport. I wanted so badly to check over my shoulder. If I got held up here and Kate arrived round that corner before I was in the baggage claim hall it was all over. But the adrenalin was pumping now and my head was starting to clear. I could feel the supercharged calmness coming on that I had always achieved before big deals.

  ‘You just made it.’ she said, flicking the pages apart.

  ‘I'm sorry.’ I said, warily, focusing now.

  ‘This visa is only just in date.’ She looked at me over the top of a pair of steel framed spectacles, ‘You were aware of that?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ I was ad-libbing furiously. I'd got the visa in London last winter when I was going to take a holiday with an ex-girlfriend, to try and patch the relationship back together. Unfortunately it had needed more patching than we had in us, and we'd never taken the trip. I'd thought that I could use the damn thing anytime. ‘Sorry, I'm a little slow this morning, not too much sleep recently.’ I smiled.

  ‘Change of plans was there sir?’

  ‘Yeah. Girlfriend trouble, had to come on my own in the end.’ Stick as close to the truth as you can.

  ‘Well there's plenty girls out here. Have a good holiday sir.’ There was a thump as she stamped and handed the passport back.