by Easton, Don
Jack and Stew then raced up to the third level. The building was in pandemonium and when they arrived at the top of the stairs, several workers stood in the doorway and raised their hands to block their entry. Jack could see that it was more of a gesture and in the yelling and confusion, they appeared uncertain as to what to do. He simply pushed past them with Stew close behind.
Once on the factory floor, Jack and Stew boldly walked to Duwa’s office at the rear. It was then that a nervous secretary told them that Mr. Duwa was gone for the day.
Jack and Stew glanced at each other and turned as a mob of angry men approached while shouting at them in Myanmarese. Several were carrying long-handled steel pipes used for truck jacks, while others were waving wooden slats taken from damaged pallets.
“God, no!” screamed Stew, staring open mouthed at the pointed ends of nails protruding from some of the slats. “They’re going to kill us!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Randy, Tina, Pom, and a young man who worked for Pom, all sat in one car a short distance down the alley from the factory. Tina was in the driver’s seat and had the car running, while Randy sat beside her and monitored the transmitter taped to Jack’s chest.
Randy had the option of using an earpiece connected to a receiver and a recorder, but he had pulled out the earpiece in this instance to allow everyone to hear.
The yelling and uproar came through the receiver clearly when Jack and Stew entered the factory. More screaming and the pounding of feet running on steps could be heard as Jack and Stew ascended the stairs.
“I can’t hear what they’re saying!” exclaimed Tina.
“I’ll turn it up,” said Randy. “I can hear Jack panting … or maybe it’s Stew Pot. Jack said something about kids and going up to the third,” he added, as he strained to make out what was happening over the din.
More yelling ensued when Randy said, “Sounds like Duwa isn’t there. Maybe they’ll have to come back when —”
Randy was interrupted by Stew Pot’s cry of terror.
“Christ,” said Tina, throwing the car into drive.
“Not yet!” yelled Randy, as he caught a glimpse of Pom pulling out his gun while telling his subordinate to do the same.
“What do you mean, not yet?” yelled Tina. “They’re in trouble! We gotta get in there!”
“Jack hasn’t given the code word yet.”
“Are you kidding me?” yelled Tina. “Maybe he forgot, or is too damn scared to remember!”
“No, I’ve worked with Jack,” said Randy, trying to keep the tension out of his voice so everyone would calm down. “He wouldn’t forget. If he wants us, he’ll let us know. Everyone shut up so I can hear.”
“Hello, did we catch you at a bad time?” asked Jack, looking at the angry mob in front of him. “Does anybody speak English?”
“You come to steal our jobs!” yelled a heavy-set man, shaking a steel pipe in the air.
“You think I am here to steal your jobs?” Jack furrowed his eyebrows as if confused.
“Our children’s jobs!” the man responded.
“Just a minute, we will see,” said Jack, as he walked over to a sewing machine that a worker had vacated after sewing one sleeve on a shirt. Jack sat down and the crowd gathered around him, while arguing with each other.
Jack ignored them and after a couple of failed attempts, where he bunched too much fabric under the needle, he finally sewed a stitch and stood up.
“Maybe I steal your jobs,” said Jack, sounding optimistic, as he tried the shirt on. His arm came up short and the crowd realized he had sewn the sleeve shut. “No, your job is too hard,” said Jack, frowning. “I can’t steal it.”
It brought a couple of smiles and a few people lowered their clubs, but not all.
“Our children’s jobs,” persisted the man. “I know. You see and you tell people, no give money to buy clothes.”
“What is your name?” asked Jack.
“Why?” said the man defensively. “My name no important. Jobs is important.”
“My name is Jack,” he said, sticking out his hand. “And this is my friend Stew.”
The man refused to shake hands and said something to the others, who brandished their clubs again.
“Oh, God,” moaned Stew.
“Why do you think we came back?” asked Jack.
“To see our childrens working,” replied the man angrily.
“I already knew children were working,” said Jack. “The height of all the empty stools told me that.”
Jack waited as the man translated to the others and he saw several people look at the vacant stools and nod.
“So why do you think we came back if we already knew?” asked Jack.
The man frowned and spoke to the group. Most shrugged in response. “So why you come back?” asked the man.
“To help your children,” replied Jack.
“You no help to take away job. Children go hungry, or have sex for money.”
“I know, which is why I came back to see if we could help. Do you have children working here?”
The man nodded and held up three fingers.
“Would you like it if one day your children became bosses? Making more money and perhaps not working so hard?”
The man stared at Jack and did not answer until someone shouted at him from the crowd, then he responded to that person before saying, “That will never happen. Why you talk like that?”
“I have already spoken to Mr. Duwa and told him that people in other countries will pay more money to buy your clothes if they think they are helping poorer people.”
“Children in Myanmar not rich like America,” said the man angrily. “They must work.”
“I know, but you’re not listening to me. What if enough extra money is paid for the clothing that the children would not have to work so many hours in the factory? What if there was money to pay for a teacher to teach the children at the factory so they could get better jobs and make more money? Maybe learn English like you do and get jobs in hotels or restaurants. Some of these children may end up being bosses here. Maybe one of your own children.”
“They would pay that much money?”
“That is what we want. For people in many countries, it is not that much more money because they get paid more. For people here, the difference means a lot.”
The man thought it over and at the crowd’s insistance, translated it to them. People who had been holding weapons looked embarrassed and lowered their weapons as they all talked amongst themselves.
Eventually the man turned his attention back to Jack. “When?” he asked. “When it happen?”
“I don’t know,” replied Jack. “I wish it were happening now. Fair trade is catching on in some parts of the world, but many more people need to be educated about it. It will take time. Measures have to be put in place to make sure the money reaches the right people.”
“What is fair trade?”
“Where richer people pay more money to people who are doing the hard work. To pay them what is fair. For people like you and your children. I have talked to Mr. Duwa about it.”
“He no here.”
“I know. You tell him that I will meet him tomorrow for lunch at the same place. I would like to talk to him again.”
The man nodded.
“Before we go, can I help you with the truck?” asked Jack.
“No … truck is okay,” replied the man, sounding puzzled.
“I thought maybe it had a flat tire,” said Jack, gesturing to the pipe the man was holding from the truck jack.
He gave a toothless smile and said, “I think whole building have flat. Maybe you can fix that.”
Rabbit heard the boarding announcement in the Hong Kong airport. He studied the picture of Jack and Stew on his phone again, before pushing the delete button.
Before he put his phone away, he smiled to himself.
Soon, Jack, I will be deleting you …
Chapter Twenty-Nine
/>
Jack and Stew were barely out of the factory when their taxi pulled up and they got in. “Back to the border crossing,” ordered Jack.
“Man, you, you saved my life in there,” said Stew. His body was starting to shake and Jack knew it wasn’t from the air-conditioning.
“Not really,” said Jack. “They weren’t going to kill us. Bet there wasn’t a murderer amongst them. They are really just a hard-working bunch of people who simply needed reassurance that we weren’t there to hurt them.”
“Hurt them! Are you blind? Didn’t you see the clubs they were carrying? They were going to kill us!”
“No, that was for show to scare us. They’re basically nice people, but a little stressed over their situation.”
“Well if they wanted to scare me, they sure as hell succeeded. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there. I’m going to tell Oskar that you deserve a medal.”
“Uh, please don’t mention the hot reception to Oskar. Say we saw some kids and that I made an arrangement to meet Duwa again tomorrow.”
“Why not? Man, you are one cool dude. Don’t be so modest.”
“We’re new on the job. If Oskar heard what really happened, he might be upset that we took a chance like that. I would feel much more comfortable if we left that part out.”
Stew looked at Jack strangely, but shrugged and said, “Okay, if you say so.”
Jack could see that Stew was still trembling and knew that if Oskar saw him, he would know that something happened. “Tell you what, Stew, I don’t see any rush to get back. Once we reach the border, maybe we should stop for a drink before going back to the hotel.”
“I think I could use one,” agreed Stew. He looked at Jack sideways for a moment and said, “You know, I really underestimated you. I think I owe you an apology.”
“How so?”
“Well, from a comment that Oskar made about you having asthma and not being into sports or anything, I sort of took you for being a little on the wimpy side. That’s why I really didn’t want you going in there alone. Boy, was I ever wrong.”
Jack smiled and said, “I have my moments.”
That night at the hotel restaurant, Oskar, Jack, and Stew were eating when Ben Pike arrived. He was a squat, husky man with a neck the same size as his head. His red hair was cut short in a brush cut.
Jack smiled to himself when he recalled Tom Donald, the first murder victim’s friend, saying that Pike walked like a gorilla. It was a good description. The man’s chest and arms were muscular and Jack had little doubt about Pike’s ability to silently kill a person.
Introductions were made and Jack could see Pike sizing them up. Pike was polite, but Jack caught the subtle sneer of disrespect on his face when they shook hands. My reputation for being a wimp has been passed along …
Early the following morning, Oskar, Pike and Stew met in the hotel lobby, while one of Pom’s men assumed his new role as a taxi driver and loaded their luggage into a hotel van to take them to the airport.
“I’ll bring you back some chopsticks,” Stew said with a smile as he shook Jack’s hand goodbye.
“Sounds good. See you in two days,” replied Jack.
Stew then took Jack aside and whispered, “You’ll stay out of Myanmar, right?”
“No problem. I’ll meet Duwa for lunch in Mae Sai and go over a few things, but that’s all.”
“Personally I think Pike should be with you. We don’t need him where we’re going.”
“I think Oskar wants to have a bodyguard to impress Mr. Yu. Don’t worry about me. I’m not the kind of guy to take risks.”
“After yesterday, I’m not so sure,” said Stew, shaking his head.
“Ah, they weren’t really bad guys. I knew that going in.”
“How?”
“I could feel it in my heart. I believe that people are basically good.”
Stew shook his head in wonder. “Oh, man, Jack. Be careful, will you? People might be basically good, but don’t be naive, either. There are some really bad people in this world.”
“Thanks, Stew Pot. I’ll try to remember that.”
Jack stayed at the hotel for the next four hours until the security team returned from the airport. They reported that Oskar, Pike, and Stew had boarded their flight, along with Willy and Tina, who had blended in with the other passengers.
“Now, back to Mai Sai?” asked Randy.
Jack nodded. “I’ve contacted Duwa and will be meeting him for lunch at the same place as yesterday. After that, I will be going to the jade factory, which is walking distance from the restaurant.”
“You’ll wear a wire?” confirmed Jim.
“For sure. If someone does try to kill me, I want everything recorded. If we get that evidence, we should be able to flip them and also get a wiretap order from a judge.”
“And if someone does kill you, I guess the plan wouldn’t change,” said Jim, wryly.
“Somebodies kill you, they die,” said Pom, matter-of-factly.
Jack was going to ask Pom if he was referring to the capital punishment that was occasionally handed out by the courts in Thailand, but decided against it. Either way, it wouldn’t help me …
Jack’s luncheon with Duwa was uneventful. Duwa was well aware that Jack and Stew had returned to his clothing factory and had seen the children. He apologized profusely for trying to deceive them and hoped it wouldn’t jeopardize any future investments.
Jack told Duwa that with his co-operation, the future could be better for everyone concerned and bade him goodbye before continuing on to the jade factory.
The jade factory was being run by a standard that would be accepted in most Westernized countries. Jack had a tour of the entire operation, from where large chunks of jade arrived from China, to where they were carved down to make sculptures or small pieces of jewellery for worldwide shipment.
The factory itself was filled to capacity and Jack noticed that all the workstations were active … with adults. With proper marketing to promote further business, the factory would likely be a good investment.
Jack purchased a small green pendant for Natasha that was carved to look like a leaf and returned to the Imperial Golden Triangle Hotel. It was suppertime, but he still emailed a brief report to Oskar about the jade factory and reported the conversation he had with Duwa over lunch.
Instead of having dinner at the hotel, Jack strolled through the town in search of a different restaurant. In the centre of town was a large golden Buddha that stood a couple of stories high. It was a drawing point for numerous tourists.
Jack spoke to a few tourists and discovered that most were from a variety of countries in Europe. People were generally friendly and in a festive mood. Thailand was not adverse to people drinking in public as was evidenced by some of the tourists who walked about with open liquor.
Farther along, Jack found a small, dilapidated restaurant that overlooked the river facing Laos. It was an open-air establishment with no walls and only a roof. Despite the sad condition of the restaurant, the smell of the food being cooked barbecue-style in the restaurant appealed to him. It was also crowded with many of the locals, which Jack took as a sign that the food would be good.
He took a seat overlooking the river. To his left, he could see where the two rivers joined each other. It was getting dark, but he could still make out Myanmar on the far side of the second river.
The Golden Triangle was aptly named. Many gangs of thugs had made a lot of money from heroin shipments being funnelled through where the rivers met. With the numerous reward posters slapped on telephone poles by the American Drug Enforcement Agency, it was obvious that drug smuggling was still a problem.
Jack enjoyed a delicious meal of pork cooked in a sauce with fresh green pepper that was still on the stem. He also enjoyed some Singha beer with his meal. There were a few tourists in the restaurant, allowing Jim and Pom to come in and order a meal without drawing attention.
“What, no food for you, Randy?”
whispered Jack into the microphone taped to his chest. “Too bad. The Singha beer is delicious. With all this heat and humidity, I think I’m going to order another one.” Somewhere, in the darkness outside, Jack envisioned Randy grinning while silently cursing him at the same time.
After dinner, Jack wandered amongst some tourist shops, but most were closed for the night.
“Hey, buddy,” yelled Randy, “Can you tell me how to get to the casino over there in Laos?” he said, pointing to the large casino on the opposite side of the river.
“I think you go to a little customs hut down the street where you can catch a boat,” said Jack, as he approached Randy. “I could walk you over to it if you like?”
“You’ve got a tail,” whispered Randy, as soon as they were close. “Someone has been with you since you left the restaurant. Big guy, wearing a black hoodie. He was outside watching you when you were eating.”
Jack felt the rush of adrenalin. “Where is Hoodie now?” He spoke quickly while pointing in the direction of the customs hut.
“In the shadows half a block behind you. Jim, Pom, and his crew have him covered. It’s your call, what do you want to do?”
“Have to get him to try and make an attempt on me,” said Jack. “Keep your earpiece in and listen.”
“How the hell will you do it without him actually succeeding?” asked Randy, while making a pretext of looking in the direction Jack had pointed. “These guys are mercenaries. Trained killers. You and I together couldn’t handle him.”
“If he thinks I’m drunk, he might get a little careless. He won’t be expecting me to know what he is about to do, let alone defend myself. I’ll block his first blow and run like hell. Just make sure you guys are close.”
“Maybe you should be drunk. It might not hurt so much when he kills you.”
“Thanks for the confidence,” replied Jack.
“So where do you want to do it?” asked Randy, looking at his watch as if wondering if the customs hut was still open.
