‘Okay young man, you’ve got some explaining to do. One, why the cryptic spook message? Two, why didn’t you call me? And three,’ he said pointing at the writhing man on the floor, ‘Who is this guy?’
Tom rubbed his wrists, and looked at the scene in front of him. A uniformed policeman was comforting two crying women and a man was struggling, handcuffed on the floor, next to a shattered doorframe. He thought he had acted maturely and professionally. He hadn’t expected this to happen.
‘That guy is Gita’s brother. I know it doesn’t look like it but I don’t think he would hurt anybody. He’s just trying to protect his sister.’
Nick picked up the knife from the floor. ‘If that’s the case what’s he doing with this, and why were you all tied up, like a scene out of some movie?’
‘It was the only way he could keep me from going with Gita to the laboratory. Now you’ve brought the police here and have probably made it worse. We’ve been arguing all day. I’m exhausted but I’m sure I could have talked him round in the end, but now…’
‘But now you’ve been rescued you ungrateful sod,’ said Nick dragging up Gita’s brother from the floor and propping him against the wall. ‘And I’ve even brought someone from the local constabulary to arrest your bloody kidnapper.’
Tom looked first at Michael and then at Gita’s brother who was visibly shaking. ‘I don’t think you should arrest him. I’m sure we can sort this out. He was coming round to our way of thinking, I know it. It’s just really difficult negotiating with someone who can’t speak English.’
‘What the fuck are you talking about? Geoff said you were a bit wet around the ears but he didn’t let on that you were crazy.’
‘I’m not crazy, and I didn’t ask for a babysitter. I’m meant to be researching a documentary film without drawing too much attention to myself. I thought I was doing that until you smashed open a door bringing an armed policeman with you.’
Nick’s head was whirling, he’d never come across anything like this before. A guy who he was meant to be minding, belligerently refusing his help. He rubbed his forehead, ‘Okay, Tom Mix; another cowboy if you’re wondering; before I set you back on that chair and tie you up again why don’t you slowly take us through it. And,’ he said pointing to Michael, ‘if you need anything from your captor, I’m sure Michael will stand in as translator.’
Tom looked at Gita, who had stopped crying but was looking very frightened, squatting in the far corner of the room. ‘Gita are you all right?’
Gita nodded, but her eyes kept darting to and from Nick and her brother.
‘It’s okay, he won’t hurt him. Just be patient while I talk to Nick. Nick, can you vouch that your policeman friend won’t take what I’m going to say any further.’
‘Michael’s a good friend, he’ll keep this between ourselves for the time being but I can’t promise in the long term.’
Michael nodded, ‘Nick has filled me in on some of the background. I’ll help out where possible but if it means letting criminals get away with it…’
Tom hesitated. He had little option but to tell his story. Then he remembered what Geoff had told him about the dilemma of filming terrorists. ‘Right, it’s just that we need a bit of time. I’ve been paid to get some information for the film. If we do it right then we’ll have more than enough evidence for the police. In fact without our investigation they may not have any evidence at all.’
Nick crouched down cross-legged next to his captive, who was now silent and wide-eyed, obviously finding the exchange of English completely incomprehensible. ‘Well young Tom, our companions seemed to have settled down so why don’t you tell us your story from the beginning. What happened when you and Gita left the nightclub for the courtyard?’
Tom took a deep breath and looked at Gita. ‘I’m sorry Gita, I should have told you about Nick. Nick this is Gita, Gita this is Nick. Nick works for the same company that I do. We were both at the nightclub last night and Nick distracted your friend whilst I took you outside for a smoke. It was a setup, I don’t even smoke.’ Gita just stared at him so Tom turned back to Nick. ‘Anyway, in the courtyard we got chatting. I told Gita that I had studied microbiology. That bit’s true Gita. So it was natural for Gita to tell me about what she did. Which is why I brought up the microbiology in the first place. The chat was pretty casual until I sensed something was worrying her. I asked her what it was. And she burst into tears.’
For the first time Gita spoke. ‘You knew. You did it on purpose.’
‘Like I said, sorry Gita.’
Nick got to his feet. ‘Enough of all this apologising. If this woman is helping terrorists…’
‘I don’t think it’s like that Nick,’ protested Tom. ‘She works there but she’s not colluding with them. It’s only recently that she’s got wind of something not being right. That’s why she wanted to talk to me.’
Nick walked over to the couch and sat down. ‘Okay I won’t interrupt again. You’re in the courtyard and she started blubbing.’
‘She said she had a lot of concerns about her job. But she didn’t want to talk about it in the club. Wanted to go somewhere private. Her sister’s. I thought it would put her off if I made a phone call so I scribbled a note on the bar bill with a burned match. Didn’t have time to write much more, just wanted you to know that I was okay.’
‘A bit bloody cryptic,’ interrupted Nick; he put up his hand in apology. ‘I know, carry on.’
‘By the time we got back to her sister’s,’ continued Tom, ‘the sun had started coming up. Riana, that’s her sister over there, made us some breakfast and we sat down to talk. Gita is really scared. She knows there’s something going on at the laboratory but doesn’t know what to do about it. Speaking to me was a relief. The bugs they are making there are really dangerous. Her line manager says that they’re for testing new antibacterials, but she can’t see any evidence of that. Also, recently she’s noticed some irregular exportation paperwork. Some of the stuff is scheduled to be shipped to somewhere in the Yemen and she’s pretty sure that the protocols aren’t legal. I told her that I could help; know some people who could expose them, if what she said turned out to be true. It was now about lunchtime, neither of us had slept. Gita had just decided to show me to a part of the laboratory where the paperwork was kept when in walks her brother.’
Michael, who had been listening attentively all of this time said something in Javanese to his prisoner. The man jabbered back. A heated argument followed ending with a sullen silence from the brother.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ said Michael. ‘Just wanted to know the other side of the story. Interested to know why Tom was tied up and what Gita’s brother was doing with a large knife.’
‘And?’ asked Nick.
‘Doesn’t sound very plausible. Wanted to protect his sister so gently restrained Tom to stop him taking her to the laboratory. Says that she shouldn’t go near the place again.’
‘That’s not far off the mark,’ said Tom. ‘I wouldn’t have exactly said gently but waving the knife about was pretty persuasive so I let him tie me up. Knew it was a bit symbolic, I just wanted to show him I wasn’t going anywhere until he really understood what was going on. Problem was the language. We’ve been arguing all afternoon but I’ve had to use Gita as a translator. Think I nearly got my point across when I fell asleep out of exhaustion.’ Tom paused as he pointed to the splintered wood debris on the floor. ‘Then you guys came in, smashing the door down in the process. Next time it might be better if you knocked. This lot are now going to take some convincing to get us access to that lab.’
Thirteen
Tom was wrong. Gita’s brother had taken little persuading to change his mind when Michael pointed out that he could be arrested for the kidnapping of an alien citizen and that his sister was at risk of prosecution for collaborating with terrorists. Michael agreed to give them forty-eight hours to come up with a plan and report back to him. Until then he would pretend the whole thing hadn’t happ
ened. He returned to the police station leaving them to sort things out between themselves.
Gita’s sister was still confused. Her English was not much better than her brother’s and she had only grasped bits of the conversation. Gita calmed her and asked her to telephone the lab to report that Gita was sick and would not be in for a few days. The brother was still angry but agreed to keep quiet and leave his sister with Tom and Nick. He left with a wad of Nick’s US dollars in his pocket.
After putting what was left of the door back on its hinges, Tom, Nick and Gita made their way to the main thoroughfare and hailed a cab. They returned to the hotel near the zoo where Nick had spent the night. Nick’s jeep was still in the car park and they thought the hotel restaurant would be a good place to eat and decide what to do next. The restaurant was empty yet the bored waiter seemed reluctant to serve them. Gita snapped at him in Javanese and he sullenly sloped off to the kitchen.
‘I think he thinks you’re taking advantage of me,’ she explained. ‘I’ve put him right, we should have some hot food soon.’
‘We’ve all got off on the wrong foot,’ said Nick. ‘Why don’t we start again. First of all, what do you two really think is going on in that lab?’
‘Go ahead Gita,’ encouraged Tom.
Gita took a sip of water from the glass on the table. ‘How much do you know about microbiology?’
‘Zilch,’ said Nick. ‘School wasn’t my strong point.’
‘I’ll try to make it simple,’ said Gita. ‘When I joined the laboratory, they said we were developing new antibiotics. After a while I was told to work on a project synthesising microbes. They were asking us to produce bacteria that had resistance to all known antibiotics. I said that why couldn’t we use something like MRSA?’
‘MRSA?’ interrupted Nick.
‘Multiresistant staphylococcus aureus,’ explained Tom. ‘It’s a nasty bug that is really hard to kill with antibiotics.’
‘But they said this wasn’t good enough for them,’ continued Gita. ‘They wanted a bacteria that was easy to transmit and had no known antidote. They also gave another specification. It had to be easily transported in simple containers in a reproductive state. That’s when alarm bells began to ring. Why would they want to move around lethal bacteria if the reason for making it was to test new antibiotics on it in their own laboratory?’
Nick leaned forward. ‘Tom mentioned something about sending some to the Yemen.’
‘Yes,’ said Gita. ‘That was very recent and another thing that got me really worried. Just before I left for the club I had to go over to the outer admin office to pick up some mail. Accidentally I saw some paperwork relating to exportation that had just come in. It was another request to supply a batch of live experimental material, this time to a place in North Africa. The note was marked strictly confidential and said something about unconventional exportation procedures. I didn’t have time to read any more as someone came into the office.’
‘And that’s not the only unconventional thing about this setup,’ added Tom. ‘We won’t bother you with the details but a lot of the methods that the lab are using to make these bugs are not authorised by any science organisation that we know. They are bloody dangerous to say the least. That’s how we heard about the lab in the first place. One of their technicians caught an infection. He was discovered in London with a raging fever. Luckily for the hospital they isolated him in time so it wasn’t passed on. Unluckily for him their antibiotics didn’t work. He died within a week.’
‘What was he doing in London, and how did you know that he worked for the Javanese lab?’ asked Nick.
‘No idea why he was in London, but because of the rarity of the bug he was referred to the School of Tropical Medicine and they did some digging. Found a letter on him with an address I was given, or should I say noticed, during my research. That’s how you found me at the lab that evening.’
The surly waiter turned up with steaming plates of ayam greng kalasan and gado gado. Nick grabbed a fried chicken wing.
‘At last real food. Thank God it’s not rice cakes.’
Tom helped Gita to rice and then spooned some of the gado gado into his bowl. ‘Why rice cakes?’
‘Another story,’ mumbled Nick through his mouthful of chicken. ‘Waiting for a jewel heist to be sorted.’
Tom realised that it was pointless asking any more questions so they sat there for a few moments without talking, chewing on their food to the accompaniment of the slow-turning fans overhead.
It was late afternoon and the low angled sunlight slanting in from the windows crept across the tables. The waiter cleared the empty plates and served up mugs of muddy coffee. Nick took a swig and grimaced.
‘Should have taken your advice Gita and ordered the tea.’ He could sense that Tom was still agitated but it wasn’t his job to organise this project, he had only been sent to look after the guy. ‘Okay Tom, what do you want to do next?’
‘It’s a problem. I’ve been asked to check out the lab and see if there’s anything worth filming. I’m pretty sure there’s something fishy going on but I’ve got no real proof and, if I had, I don’t know how they would film it. Any suggestions?’
‘Not my field Tom but, if I was you, I’d find out more about that export licence for the bugs. If it’s crooked like you think it is you’re halfway there.’
‘Yeah but we’ve only got Gita’s word for it. They could say she’s lying.’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ said Nick, standing up and making a mimed scribbling gesture to the waiter. That’s to go and take a look.’
Gita had taken some persuading but when Nick pointed out to her that it was a choice of that or being investigated by the Surabaya police she agreed to show them the office where she had seen the papers. It was possible but it wouldn’t be easy. The main laboratory entrance was heavily guarded day and night with security cameras and alarms. The administration office was to the rear of the compound, guarded only by regular patrols. To enter the laboratory Gita had to not only use her key card but be accompanied by a security officer who would insert his card at the same time. Fortunately, she could access the administration building on her own as it only required one key card.
‘Well Tom, looks like the lab is out of bounds, for the time being anyway. But if you’re game and we look out for those dogs I’m sure we could take a peek at this suspect paperwork.’
Tom looked at his watch and nodded. ‘If we leave now it should be dark by the time we get there. We could get in under the fence where I did before; that’s if they haven’t found it and filled the hole in by now.’
Nick paid the bill and added a few extra notes. ‘Tell him it’s not for a tip, it’s for a takeout bag of raw beef,’ said Nick to Gita. ‘Ask him to bring it round to the car park.’
The road out of Surabaya was busy and it was already dark by the time they hit the outskirts. There was no moon and no street lights and without Gita it would have been impossible for them to have found the side road to the laboratory. Nick drove slowly, they were in no hurry and he didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. They couldn’t see any habitation but Gita said that amongst the rice fields there was the odd farmer living in a crude shelter, either palm-thatched huts or merely a piece of corrugated iron perched on a few poles. A four-wheel drive tearing along the poorly made-up road would cause gossip for miles. As a result it was past midnight when they saw the glimmer of the small industrial estate looming up before them. Nick switched the headlights off and crawled the final kilometre by the jeep’s sidelights. On the outskirts of the complex was a rundown factory, a few rusty cars parked behind an old outhouse. Nick pulled the jeep in alongside one of them and switched off the engine. They sat there for a moment in silence in the cool interior of the vehicle.
Nick broke the atmosphere. ‘Right, you all know what to do. I’ll lift the wire. You and Gita get to the admin block as quickly and quietly as you can.’ He lifted up the bag of raw meat from the car w
ell. ‘I’ll deal with the dogs and join you when I can. You set?’
They nodded and opened the car doors to be hit by a wave of thick hot tropical air. Using only the light from their phone screens the three of them crept along the tree-lined pathway that led to the barbed wire perimeter. A hundred metres before the entrance of the compound they broke off the track and pushed their way through the wild grasslands. Apart from the odd scuffle and twitter from the night animals the air was soundless. After fifteen minutes Nick gauged that they were about parallel with Tom’s last foray into the laboratory grounds. He pointed sideways and gestured for them to crouch down. They broke off from their current direction and crawled at ninety degrees towards the area where they thought the wire fence would be waiting. Nick’s sense of orienteering could hardly have been better. As they cleared the final scrub and long grass they arrived within a few metres of the mown boundary that bordered the barbed wire enclosure. Tom pointed out the sign. SUPAYA METU.
‘Keep out,’ whispered Gita.
‘Like a red rag to a bull,’ muttered Nick.
Tom pointed along the fence boundary. ‘Not far,’ he said quietly.
The sky was black and there were no lit windows to pick out the laboratory within the compound but, once inside, Gita would be able to show them the way. They continued on all fours crawling alongside the periphery until they came to the tree root and depression where Tom had first broken in. Tom sighed with relief.
‘It’s not been disturbed,’ he said softly. ‘They’ve obviously not found it.’
‘I’ll need to make the hole a bit bigger for me,’ said Nick. ‘First, let’s get you two through. Here, I’ll hold the fence up, crawl through quickly.’
Tom and Gita slithered their small frames between the depression in the ground and the razor wire that was being lifted for them. They sat panting, covered in earth, on the other side. Nick started to dig at the soil with his large hands. ‘You two go on, this won’t take me long.’ He held up the bag of meat. ‘I’ll deal with the dogs and catch up with you later.’
Drugs to Forget Page 12
