“What if I can’t find a hostage who looks like the Prince?” Maaz interrupted.
Azeez opened his briefcase and pulled out a grotesque rubber mask of the Prince. He had seen it for sale on a street stall that was selling similar masks of most of the world leaders and other famous celebrities. He threw the mask at Maaz.
“Then make him wear this. In all the confusion nobody will know and it could buy us some valuable time in our escape with the real prisoner.”
“What about the Prince’s security?” asked Haadee, more out of interest than concern.
“The Princes security will only have a plan for an attack by an individual or small group. We will be attacking with an army of people. We will have brothers dressed as policemen and soldiers and we will have control of the section of route where we will be making the attack. The attacks on the regime will continue long after we have left our brothers in their successful uprising.”
“How long will we hold the Prince in south Thailand?” asked Kabeer.
“For as long as it takes.”
“And what if the West does not agree to the new peace plane for Syria?”
“They will agree and they will send their own soldiers to police it. But if they don’t, then the Prince will die.”
The men nodded their agreement.
“The fine details and your specific roles, times, routes, contacts and everything else that you need to know are in these envelopes.” Azeez pulled out the A4 sized brown envelopes from his briefcase. Each one had one of the men’s names written on it. He handed them out to the soldiers.
“What about equipment?” asked Kabeer.
“Everything is already in place Kabeer. You will have everything you need and some well-trained men are waiting to help you. Your orders to them will not be questioned. We have martyrs waiting.”
The men all nodded again waiting for the instruction to open the envelopes. Azeez knew they were waiting.
“Take the envelopes back to your hotel rooms. Do not go anywhere else. Read the contents and memorize it. Then destroy the envelopes and contents by eating it. It’s all edible paper so it won’t be too difficult.”
Azeez nodded to the men, which signalled the end of the meeting. Over the next ten minutes the men all left Ali’s restaurant separately and headed back to their hotels.
Chapter 2: The Snatch
Wolfgang Bauer was 22 years old and on his first ever visit to Thailand. He was taking a gap year from his university studies. One day he would be a doctor, but for the next 12 months he intended doing nothing except backpacking around south-east Asia. He had arrived at Suvarnabhumi International Airport in Bangkok just over a week ago. Thailand was advertised as ‘the Land of Smiles’ in Germany and Wolfgang felt like smiling, so Thailand seemed like the perfect place to start his south-east Asian tour. He was tall and thin, probably too thin. He had a toothy smile and short fair hair, which was thinning on top; the start of male pattern baldness. His father had been bald by the age of 30. Wolfgang Bauer had a likeness to HRH Prince William. Not a remarkable likeness, but a likeness, nonetheless! They had even started calling him Prince Willy on the university campus back in Berlin. Wolfgang was quiet. He was a shy man and a bit awkward around females, but he was a good student and he was going to be a good doctor. He blushed easily and he had spent a lot of time blushing during the last few months when his friends teased him about the girls of Thailand, Vietnam and the Philippines. He had taken note books with him and he was writing about his experiences as he travelled around. He had made his way to the holiday island of Phuket before he was going to head on to Koh Samui and Krabi. He had read about the bar scene in Patong and managed to get himself a cheap room on Nanai Road. The room was pretty basic. It was one of four above a motorbike rental shop. He had a bed, a wardrobe and a fridge in his room. There was an electric wall fan but it didn’t rotate anymore and just blew the warm air in the small room towards the blue coloured fridge. Wolfgang managed to face the fan towards the bed and, using a piece of string tied between the fan’s blade guard and the ornate bars that covered the only window in the room, he kept it facing the bed. The room was clean and cheap and he shared a Thai style bathroom with the people staying in the other rooms. He liked his room above the motorbike shop and thought that it would make interesting reading when his journals were eventually published, which he was sure they would be one day. He described the room in great detail and also the view from his barred window along Nanai Road. Each day he studied the comings and goings of the people as they went about their business along Nanai Road. He described everything in as much detail as he could for his future readership. The people in the other rooms above the motorbike shop were all girls and, from the noise and the amount of high heeled shoes and flip flops outside each door, Wolfgang had estimated that there were probably four or five girls sharing each room. He had seen at least ten different girls in various states of undress on his visits to the bathroom. He knew of course that they were working girls from the many bars that made Patong what it was. The girls who lived above the motorbike shop smiled a lot at Wolfgang and, when they saw how their smiles and semi-nude bodies made him blush, they teased him even more. It was sanuck. (fun)
Wolfgang Bauer had been on the beach most of the day. He walked back to Nanai Road and it was a good 30 minute walk. After he showered and changed he walked back out along Nanai Road and sat in a little Thai restaurant and ate some chicken and rice. The sun had already gone down and it was still early evening and still exceptionally hot. Wolfgang sweated as he ate and used the tissues that had been rolled up inside a glass on the table to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He walked down the hill towards Bangla Road, had a couple of beers in a couple of the bars before watching a ladyboy show and then walked back along Rat-U-Thit Road towards the open air market. He didn’t see anyone and he didn’t know what happened. He just felt a terrible shocking pain in his neck. It was a blow, fast and hard. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground unconscious.
~2~
It was the rocking motion of the fishing boat and the noise of the diesel engine making a heavy chugging sound that caused Wolfgang to wake up. His neck hurt like hell and his head was pounding in time with the chug, chug, chugging of the fishing boat. He didn’t know where he was. A man came up close to him and looked into his eyes, taking it in turns to hold up each of Wolfgang’s eyelids with a heavy thumb. He was a dark skinned man with a scar down his right cheek. Before Wolfgang could make sense of anything the man injected him with something.
‘Maybe I’ve been in an accident. Maybe he’s a doctor’ thought Wolfgang, before his eyes closed again and he was asleep.
Wolfgang started to wake up. His head was hurting and his mouth was dry. He was sweating and felt very hot. The air was hot and tasted and smelt wet and stale. When he tried to roll over into a more comfortable position he couldn’t. He opened his eyes. His legs were chained together at the ankles and the chain was padlocked to a heavy rusted iron ring that was cemented into the ground. His hands were free but he wasn’t. He was in a small room. There was no fan and there was just some old sacking that had been sown together and hung over the doorway. There was no window. Wolfgang couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know where he was or why he was there. He felt very frightened and alone. He looked around his immediate surroundings and realised that he wasn’t in a room at all. He was in some kind of hut; a bamboo hut. He could hear men’s voices from outside the hut. It sounded like men who were speaking in different languages. He thought he could hear an Arabic tongue and he could hear some other men speaking in what he assumed must be Thai, but somehow it sounded different. He looked at the heavy iron ring that was cemented into the ground. He could tell from the marks on the ring that it had been used many times to hold prisoners in this hut. Wolfgang thought about what may have happened to these other people before him, but the thoughts sca
red him so he tried to stop thinking. He had no idea why he was there and no idea who had taken him there or why. He could only think that somehow there had been a mistake and he was sure that he would be able to explain this when he had a chance to speak to somebody. He thought that if somebody could contact the German embassy then he could talk to them and they would be able to sort something out. Wolfgang assumed that he was still in Thailand. He had no recollection of the journey across the Andaman Sea on the fishing boat. He was still asleep when the truck brought him into the jungle in the north of Myanmar. He just wanted to go back to his room above the motorbike shop. He wanted something to eat but, more than anything, he wanted some water. He sniffed himself and he thought that he was starting to stink. He saw the man’s silhouette as he approached the sacking from the bright sunlight outside the hut. Wolfgang closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He didn’t really know why he did this, but he was just too scared to do anything else. He felt a hand on his hip and it shook him gently.
“Come on. Wake up my friend!” said the man in perfect English with a heavy middle-eastern accent. His voice sounded okay to Wolfgang, even friendly. Wolfgang opened his eyes and sat up on the dirt floor. He looked at the man. For a brief moment he thought that he recognised him, but then he realised he might be mixing him up with a doctor he met once, or maybe he didn‘t. The memory was too deep in his mind for him to find it. He was an Arabian looking man and had a scar down his right cheek. He was smiling at Wolfgang and Wolfgang thought he saw some kindness in his eyes. It made him feel slightly better. The man was holding a bottle of water. He held it out to Wolfgang.
“Here my friend. Drink this.”
Wolfgang nodded and drank from the bottle until it was empty. The water was warm but it tasted so good. He needed that drink more than he had realised.
“Are you English?”
“No. I’m German. Did you want an Englishman? I think there has been a terrible mistake.”
“No. We wanted a German. There has been no mistake.”
Wolfgang was confused. The man had asked if he was English, but then told him that they wanted a German. It didn’t make sense to him, but he assumed that something was getting lost in translation.
“What is your name my friend?” The man kept smiling and his voice was calm and friendly. Wolfgang found it strangely reassuring. He was happy for any reassurance he could find. Any crumbs of kindness or hope that he was going to be okay would all be gratefully received.
“My name is Wolfgang Bauer. I am from Berlin in Germany. I’m a medical student and I’m travelling around south-east Asia for a year.”
Azeez listened as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard and nodded at Wolfgang.
“So you are going to be a doctor one day, Wolfgang?”
“Yes. I hope so.” Wolfgang realised that what he really meant was that he hoped he still had many more ‘one days’ to come in the future. Azeez smiled and nodded again.
“That is a good job. You are a good man Wolfgang. Are you hungry?”
Wolfgang nodded. When Azeez stood up to leave the hut Wolfgang suddenly found enough strength to ask the question that he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to.
“Why am I here?”
“Don’t worry my friend. Nobody is going to hurt you. You will be very safe. You will not be held here very long. We are just trying to make a point to the German government over their responsibility for the world debt, their responsibility to third world countries and the promises they have made and broken. But nobody is going to hurt you. We do not make any demands from your government. We are just making a point and you will be released in a few days when we have made our point. Do not worry my friend. You will go back to Germany a hero. Do you want some more water Wolfgang?”
“Yes please.” Wolfgang felt a lot better and a lot safer now that the man had explained everything to him.
“Excuse me, sir” he called out, as Azeez pulled back the sacking and he got a glimpse of the army camp outside surrounded by thick green jungle. “What is your name?”
“My name is Azeez.” He walked out and let the dirty sacking drop closed behind him.
Wolfgang ran over the entire conversation that he had just had with Azeez. He didn’t really know a lot about politics, but he knew what was happening in the news. He couldn’t remember anything being mentioned about Germany being responsible for the world debt or what promises they had made and then broken to third world countries. But he wasn’t surprised and he didn’t doubt that Azeez had told him the truth.
He thought about everything that Azeez had said. At least he was going to be safe and released in a few days. He took a lot of comfort from that and he suddenly wished that he had his note book with him. He liked the idea of being a hero back in Germany after he was released and realised that it would be great publicity and a lot easier to get his journal published. Now his journal was going to be so much more than just a travelogue. His thoughts were interrupted when a soldier came in carrying some rice mixed with some green leafy vegetables on a tin plate. He also brought in another plastic bottle of warm water. He looked Thai to Wolfgang but his uniform was ragged and tatty. He didn’t look like a proper soldier. He didn’t speak to Wolfgang. He just handed him the food and water and nodded. Wolfgang nodded back and the man left. As Wolfgang ate he heard someone light a match outside the hut and a few moments later he could smell cigarette smoke. He had never smoked and didn’t really like the smell, but he wanted to try to remember every little detail to write in his journal upon his release. He listened to the sounds outside. He could hear a lot of men talking, some close, and others too distant to hear. Just the murmur of many men talking in different groups about different things. He heard some men laughing. He could hear many people moving around. He could hear heavy trucks coming and going. He realised he was in some kind of rebel army camp. He didn’t even know that they had any rebels in Thailand and he didn’t know Thailand well enough to even guess where any such camp might be. He thought that he could research it all on the internet when he was released. He decided that he would just do as he was told and not make any trouble. He didn’t want to make anyone angry, because he didn’t want to get hurt.
Kabeer only stayed in the jungle camp for a few hours. He had already left before Wolfgang had woken up. Kabeer was given an interpreter and was taken to a warehouse not far from the old capital city of Yangon. Kabeer was an explosives expert. More than that, he was a genius. He understood everything there was to know and he just had a natural feeling about how to get the most from any blast. He could improvise and use the natural surroundings to gain maximum effect. He was a thin man, almost skinny and he wore gold rimmed glasses, which he constantly seemed to be pushing back up his nose so he could actually see through them. If he wasn’t mixing explosives then he was mixing curries and he thought of himself as more of a cook than a soldier. He had a good sense of humour and didn’t mind making himself the butt of the joke. When he got to see inside the warehouse he clapped his hands. It was a bomb maker’s paradise. He had all the men and equipment to start a war. Nobody was going to know what hit them. He quickly set about organizing the men he had there to work for him and they did as he said without question. They had been told that he had been sent by Allah to show them how to make the bombs they would need to overthrow the regime. They only had a few days and they worked around the clock, eating and sleeping in the warehouse. Cars, taxis and even an old bus were used to move the explosive devices around the country to where they were going to be needed. Azeez and Maaz spent the next few days making the final plans with Aung, the self-appointed general of the rebel soldiers, and organizing the rebel soldiers that they now had under their command. Aung didn’t mind. He had never been a real soldier. He came from a long line of bakers and was the only fat person that Azeez and Maaz had seen in Myanmar.
Kahlam was the second in command of the Syrian special forces unit. He had travelled down to the south of Thailand together with Haadee, where they met up with some Muslim separatist groups who had long been fighting a guerrilla war with the Thai government. The border with Thailand and Malaysia is 314 miles long and stretches from the Strait of Malacca in the west to the Gulf of Thailand in the east. They were shown several likely safe houses set in jungle near the border with Malaysia. They found the perfect place in the Central Highlands, which comprises the middle half of the frontier region and consists of a massive but dissected granitic upland. The general alignment of the ridges, with maximum elevations between 3,000 and 5,000 feet, is north–south and they are situated along the boundary. Slopes are steep and are, in general, covered with a thick, evergreen tropical rainforest. The larger valleys have been cleared in places for cultivation, but the major part of the frontier remains in natural forest. Kahlam and Haadee agreed that it was ideal for their needs and would most likely never be found. Even in the event that it was, it was easy to defend and easy to escape from. They made their base camp there and stocked it with enough essentials to live there undetected for a year. They had their Muslim brothers make some repairs to the derelict house. They passed the coordinates and map reference to Azeez. Now they just had to wait.
Snatched Page 3
