CHAPTER NINE
Blind Fate
Neither fire nor brazen wall can keep out Fate.
Pindar : Pythian Odes
Lyköan slipped out of the tuk-tuk, paid the driver, and ran for cover under the Ayutt Haya’s entrance awning. Once inside, he stopped to brush the rain from his jacket to little effect, then headed for the elevators, arriving at Whitehall’s door a minute before eleven. Thai punctuality.
The door opened immediately. “Glad you could come by on such short notice,” Whitehall said, ushering him inside. Was it just paranoia or had he glanced nervously over Lyköan’s shoulder before closing the door? “Here, have a seat,” Whitehall offered, motioning towards an overstuffed chair. “Would you like something to drink? Water, soda, a pint of ale perhaps?”
Lyköan shook his head, “No, thanks, I’m fine.”
Whitehall was being even more accommodating than usual. Lyköan took the proffered chair as Whitehall sat in another. The relaxed smile returned to Whitehall’s face.
“So what’s important enough to require a face-to-face?” Lyköan asked impatiently. “I thought yesterday’s grilling by the Innovac boys covered just about everything. Something else on your mind?”
“As a matter of fact there is, Lyköan. My recent assignment has convinced me Primrose couldn’t have asked for a better agent here in Thailand than yourself. Gordon and Narayan are satisfied as well. Someone capable of performing his duties honorably. And with absolute discretion.”
During their earlier tête-à-tête on the riverboat, Whitehall had avoided Lyköan’s eyes. Right now, however, he was staring, as though looking for agreement, approval, or simple acknowledgement.
“You called me all the way down here to tell me what a great guy you think I am? Now I’m the one who’s flattered. But you could have done that over the phone. This talk of discretion and honor ― you implying there’s somebody involved in this happy little business that doesn’t possess either?”
Maybe he had read the comment wrong. Could be that Whitehall was only about to offer him a side deal similar to the one Lyköan suspected he had already offered Jimmy. Either way, the conversation was getting interesting.
“Look Whitehall, my role’s limited. Little more than project management really. It demands a certain level of competence, sure, but not the kind of keep-your-mouth-shut secrecy I think you’re implying. But since you brought up the subject, whose honor and discretion are you worried about?”
“Sorry, old chap,” Whitehall replied, “but I’m going to have to answer that question with a question of my own.” The smile had faded. “Do you have any idea why the Ministry of Health might be involved ― or at least interested in ― Innovac’s Thai setup?”
“Sure,” Lyköan answered. “They have a vested interest in the biologics Primrose will be importing and exporting. Bureaucratic paper shuffling, routine chemical inspections, clean room manufacturing specs ― that sort of thing. Jimmy and I figured a few palms might have to be greased to expedite the process, but since we’re not smuggling contraband the risk is minimal. Or is smuggling what this is really all about?”
“No,” Whitehall answered a bit too quickly, “nothing like that. What you mention sounds innocent enough.” He hesitated for a moment, looked at the ceiling, as if considering how to phrase the follow-up question or perhaps whether to ask it at all. “In your dealings with the government, has the Thai military brass ever been involved?”
“Isn’t that a question better answered by your inside man?” Lyköan asked. “The one with the family connections? Unless I’m mistaken, he’s the one with the government’s ear.” So what if Whitehall was offended by the remark. Lyköan resented Whitehall’s surreptitious business arrangement with Jimmy and this was as good a time as any to drag that resentment out into the open.
“You’re a bright chap, you must realize by now that Mr. Sawadviphachai considers himself to be an independent contractor ― loyal only to his own self interests. It took me a while, but I finally learned that lesson. Thailand is endemic with nepotistic corruption and unless you happen to be a member of the family, you’re assuming great risks entering into any arrangement.” Whitehall was only stating the obvious. “But your sly little Beau Brummel was observed meeting with a politically connected General of the Army last night, after our get-together with Gordon and Narayan. Probably a relative.”
“You have a tail on me last night too?” Lyköan asked, visibly annoyed. “Interested in what I was having for dinner? You know, you’re the one who should be providing me with information. You seem to know it all.” Lyköan was beyond surprise. “As far as my contact with the Thai military goes, there’s never been any. No need for it as far as the Primrose project was concerned. Why Jimmy would be meeting with them or what information he’s providing? Your guess is as good as mine. This is the first I’ve heard about it. I thought you two were working together. Why don’t you just ask him?”
Lyköan could believe the military angle. Still, Whitehall knew how to gather information. But why would they be interested?
“No need to get excited, my friend,” Whitehall said hurriedly. “I’m trying to offer you an arrangement from which we can both profit.”
“Okay, Whitehall, you want my help? Your arrangement with Jimmy goes south and now I get a shot, is that it? Tell me a little about his deal and what you intend to offer me, then we’ll see.”
“I’ll have to take a few steps back before I can proceed. Is that alright with you?”
“Fine. As long as it’s the truth.” Lyköan knew Whitehall could remain entirely opaque if he chose. “After I hear what you have to say I’ll let you know if I think it’s worth proceeding.”
“Ever read any Graham Greene?” Whitehall asked. “The Quiet American?”
“That was about colonial Vietnam. This is Thailand. What’s the tie-in? Thailand was never colonized ― it’s always been an independent nation.” In fact, Thailand was the only country in Indochina that had never been subjugated by Europeans, explaining why they resented the West considerably less than their neighbors.
“Very good,” Whitehall said energetically. Was he being intentionally condescending? “But their long history of independence doesn’t mean that the Western powers are any less interested in what goes on here than in the former colonial states, especially concerning a few specific current events.”
Understanding flickered in Lyköan’s eyes. “Okay, we’re working for Innovac; one of those events must be the TAI virus ― but others?”
Whitehall waited. Finally, it clicked. The other subject they had only skirted on the river.
“Muslim insurgency?” Lyköan offered. “What’s the connection?”
“At this point we’re not certain there is a connection. But anything that unsettles a staid, authoritarian state like Thailand threatens the already precarious worldwide balance of trade. By definition, it then becomes very interesting to those powers that are best served by the free flow of commerce.”
“Which aren’t necessarily governments, are they?” Lyköan was doing his best to follow Whitehall's logic. Maybe he hadn’t seen the entire forest yet, but it certainly looked a helluva less myopically like a single tree. Who else, besides Innovac, would also be interested in the information Whitehall was gathering?
“Multinational corporations have interests that often coincide with the governmental interests,” Whitehall agreed. “But not always.”
“Okay, I’ll call your hand. But tell me, how do I benefit from this little discussion? You are about to offer me something, aren’t you? Some opportunity I’d be foolish to refuse?” Lyköan could almost taste the baited hook.
“I’m suggesting we become partners, exchanging any information we stumble across regarding our friend, Jimmy; Thai government or military designs regarding Primrose; and especially direct contact between any of them and Innovac.”
Lyköan wanted more. “You sure weren’t too forthcoming before this. What’
s changed? Right now I’m the one at the disadvantage. How would I know if you were holding out on me? Maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing some of the information you’ve already come by first? To show your good faith. You can start with how you’ve been keeping tabs on everyone, especially me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t. Contractual arrangements, you see? I can tell you that it’s been through a private agency ― local here in Bangkok ― but that’s all.”
“Then who’s footing the bill? If you’re also watching Innovac, somebody else must be paying for at least that part of it.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t divulge that either.”
While it didn’t sound like Innovac corporate, it still might be someone inside the huge drug company who was working both sides, the same as Whitehall seemed to be doing. “Well, if you’re going to refuse to answer the first few simple questions I ask, how is this ever going to work? I get nothing but the promise of an occasional bone you feel like throwing my way and, in return, I risk losing my biggest account? That’s not a deal; it’s an invitation to bankruptcy, maybe even prison. And I still don’t know whose side you’re really on.”
“We’re the good guys.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are. If you expect me to help you, it’s going to require full disclosure right here and now. I’ve put up with this covert shit long enough. Either open up and tell me what’s going on or I take all of this to Innovac, lay my still-untainted cards on the table, and see if there’s any possibility of salvaging my eighteen months of hard work. If they believe me and I keep the account, you’re out of a job. That’s fine with me. Even if I get bounced, you’re probably still out. As you said yourself, Innovac believes I’m trustworthy. I’ve really got nothing to hide at this point ― from anyone. So trust me. Or you can forget about a deal. It’s just not worth it.”
Lyköan waited. If Whitehall agreed to terms, great. If not, he was as much as admitting their arrangement would never be a two way street. Lyköan could expose him at any time. Did Whitehall realize he had painted himself into a corner? At last, a reversal of roles.
Whitehall blinked first. “I should have suspected a fellow so used to driving hard bargains might give me a run for my money,” he conceded. “Alright, here’s your full disclosure. The PI agency is local Thai talent more used to tracking philandering husbands than expat businessmen. They may be small time, but they’re very discrete.” Lyköan had every reason to believe this. “Telling you who they are would break my contractual agreement with them, honestly.”
“But it would make me feel so much better,” Lyköan insisted. “As a good faith offering?” Lyköan wondered if Whitehall would realize that providing an answer was nonnegotiable.
“Parmathansivanant & Janvisthnati,” came the answer, without any need more threats. “But don’t go running off to introduce yourself until I have an opportunity to speak with them first. Agreed? The firm’s in the phone directory. You can look it up if you’d like. I didn’t just invent it to wriggle off this hook. Is that enough to satisfy your curiosity?”
“Just call them off, Whitehall, okay? I feel real uncomfortable constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid that every damned smiling Thai face I see is somebody on your payroll. Okay, that answers my first question. I also asked you who’s bankrolling this operation.”
“An agency of a Western government. We’ll have to leave it at that for now, Lyköan. Sorry, but I can’t be any more specific. If that’s a deal-breaker for you then I’m afraid this deal’s broken. Any deal, however, ought to be open to a little compromise, don’t you think?”
“You mean like the CIA or MI-6? You’re not joking, are you? What, a covert op at your age? That agency ― whoever they are ― must really be desperate.”
Whitehall stared back expressionless. Lyköan was gloating, but it didn’t last. He had put the screws to the only ally he had at the moment and suddenly it dawned on him how dark and lonely his existence would be without anyone at all on his side.
“Okay, okay, crazy as your story sounds, it all fits together. Except that I know absolutely nothing about any military involvement and that bothers me. We’re still going to have to rely on Jimmy for the licenses and waivers and his family contacts inside the Ministry of Health and Department of Excise, even if we know he’s probably not working in our best interest. Until I have a reason to cut bait, I’m going to continue operating as Innovac’s loyal employee. What’s passed between you and me and whatever else we turn up in the future needn’t reach our employer’s ears unless it jeopardizes their legitimate business interests. Sound reasonable to you?”
* * *
Another hour passed before they were both satisfied with the details of each other’s story. Lyköan could see how Whitehall’s deal with Jimmy might have been made untenable by the revelation that he was passing information to the Thai military. For now at least, their separate arrangements with the young Thai middleman would appear as before.
Lyköan had switched allegiances almost as easily as he might have changed his shirt. Whitehall may have looked like the more appealing ally, but it had been an unwelcome choice between the lesser of two evils. Operating on instinct alone, he had thrown in with someone who claimed to be working for the good guys. But was he? And who were they?
“Until we have reason to alter our original plan, we continue to do our jobs and keep our eyes and ears open,” Whitehall was saying. “As far as we know, all the conspiratorial designs originated with the Thai nationals. They appear to be targeting Innovac for some reason, but who knows? Until we know more, you and I are going to act like choir boys visiting the Vicar for Sunday afternoon tea.”
“That’s been my intention all along,” Lyköan agreed. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Which makes two of us,” Whitehall acknowledged weakly.
“Looks like we’re finished for now. Want to go downstairs and grab some lunch?”
“It might not be wise to be seen alone together at the moment,” Whitehall replied, “and risk raising suspicions. Someone might put two and two together. Gordon and Narayan are staying here at the hotel. I only asked you up this morning because P&J swept the room only yesterday. In the future, meeting outdoors would be safer. As always, the less said over the phone the better. And watch yourself on the way out.”
“Think I’ll take the stairs. Avoid the elevators.”
“That’s the spirit,” Whitehall agreed. “See you at Primrose, Monday morning. Stiff upper lip now, lad.”
Leaving Whitehall at the door, Lyköan headed for the stairway. Once inside the stairwell, footsteps echoing crisply off the bare cement, he descended at a run. The transition from struggling businessman to corporate spy had been utterly seamless. It was doubtful that any of this could be considered either ‘Right Intention’ or ‘Right Conduct’ in the context of the eight-fold path. While he may have thought he had opened Whitehall like a can of tuna, Whitehall had just as surely turned Lyköan into his accomplice. If that were true, to what purpose?
Preoccupied with this inner discourse, he carelessly threw the ground-floor door open and stepped out into the hallway that ran between the hotel’s two main elevator banks. Once past the last elevator, he made a quick turn at full stride and stepped out into the lobby. Near the revolving doors at the front entrance, four men were standing in huddled conversation.
Lyköan recognized three immediately: Gordon, Narayan, and the Thai Minister of Health, Narit Intatha. The latter had become something of a local celebrity through innumerable TAI epidemic television interviews and newspaper photos. The fourth face was a mystery, but from his clothing Lyköan thought he might be another Thai official, businessman, or cop. As if an electrical current had pulsed through him, he instinctively sprang back, bolting into the first available open elevator door.
“Watch it!” a voice cried, an instant before he slammed full-body into one of three exiting passengers, crushing the instep of the woman who had shouted the warnin
g and sending her laptop crashing to the floor. With irritated expressions, the other two passengers sidestepped around him and exited.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! In a low, barely audible voice, he was finally able to get out, “Aw Jeez, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking...”
“That hurt!” the woman announced in a voice sure to draw attention. He stooped to retrieve the computer, almost hitting her chin with the back of his head when he stood up again. He offered her the device with an apologetic grin.
Were the four men at the door entering or leaving the hotel? His heart was racing. Fucking bad timing, bad timing, bad timing… He was trapped ― couldn’t risk even a glance outside the closing elevator doors. God-awful awkward.
“Really, this was all my fault,” he attempted. “If your computer’s damaged, I’d be happy to pay for any repairs. Hope you haven’t lost any data.” Anything to keep the conversation from leaving the elevator. “Do you think you’re injured?”
“I don’t know, but it hurts like hell. What were you thinking?” Lyköan caught the American accent as the woman pushed the Open Door button and raised the foot behind her.
“I wasn’t paying attention ― preoccupied I guess.” The quartet he was trying to avoid still hadn’t passed the elevator. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to get out of this elevator, if you don’t mind,” she said, jockeying for position around him. This looked like the moment of truth.
“Sure.” He let her exit first and, entering the lobby behind her, observed a rear door close on a limousine parked at the curb outside the front doors. The four men were no longer in the lobby. Lyköan watched, relieved as the vehicle pulled out into traffic.
The SONG of SHIVA Page 8
