Crude Deception

by Gordon Zuckerman

  Pleased with their report, Secretary Ainsworth called Chairman Malone. “Roger, it’ll be interesting to see what we can learn from the five captured Samson operatives. I’m going to have them transported to our special interrogation center at Quantico.”

  “I also have some good news to report myself,” said Chairman Malone. “Morgan has just received a call from Jacques. Apparently, Mike sent Jacques a message asking that two of the bank’s best attorneys be sent to Dallas. According to Morgan, Mike needs legal assistance to determine if the information he and Perez smuggled out of Mexico is adequate to support charges of fraud, to define damages, and to determine that the oil companies have been dealing in bad faith.”

  “Roger, don’t you think we should tell the President?” asked Secretary Ainsworth.

  “Not yet. Who knows—when we understand the consequences of the Smith and Jones report, maybe there will be something else we will want to do. I think we can afford to wait. From the way things have been going, I’m not so certain who needs to be protected from whom.”

  Chapter 21

  INDONESIA

  Four days later, having dissuaded her father and Ted from sending her back to the United States, Cecelia was ready to resume her tour. For the first time since her kidnapping, she was forced to exercise a strong and conscious personal discipline. Balancing the demands of meeting provincial leaders and businessmen with her needs for sleep and a simplified diet introduced an entirely new dimension of personal behavior to her travels.

  As she and Ted were finishing the last of their two-week China tour, they were making plans for their next trip to Indonesia and Malaysia. They expanded the length of their itinerary to include added time for rest and relaxation.

  Ted was eager to talk about the next leg of their trip, and Cecelia was happy to indulge him as he gave her impromptu geography and history lessons. “After we take some time off to relax on some of the world’s most spectacular beaches, you are going to find things in Southeast Asia quite different,” said Ted. “Unlike the great landmass of China, Indonesia is an eight-province island nation that is rich in oil and many other natural resources. At last count, I think there were approximately a hundred and fifty million people, eighty percent of whom are Muslim. Geographically, it is a country divided by oceans, mountains, and dense jungles.

  “For centuries, Indonesia has been under Dutch colonial rule, and more recently the country was occupied by the Japanese. After the war, following their withdrawal, national independence has become a vital issue of the native population. A forty-day period followed the Japanese withdrawal, before a small British expeditionary force of two thousand arrived to claim the Allied interests. During that six-week period, the Indonesians installed their own national government, the same government that had been organized and trained by the Japanese to be their national government.

  “Indonesia’s new national army, a Japanese-trained military unit originally developed to protect its postwar interests, was waiting to repel the two-thousand-man British expeditionary force. Defeated and forced to withdraw, what remained of that British force—troops conscripted from India and Australia—retreated to Darwin.

  “Concerned about protecting its oil interests, the Dutch government quietly garrisoned a hundred and ten thousand of its own troops on the island nation. Until now, the Dutch have made no move to use the troops to take control. Their presence, however, leaves no doubt as to the Dutch government’s ultimate intention of seizing both political and military control. They are only waiting to determine if such a move would receive support from the United Nations and the United States.

  “The situation in Indonesia is a time bomb waiting to explode. Can you imagine the sensitivity of the problem the American government and the United Nations must be facing? On one hand, they are being asked to support the economic and political claims of historical allies. On the other, they are being asked to support a new popular government.

  “Meeting with all these people is going to be an interesting experience. Who knows, maybe someone in the United States government will be interested in what you learn.”

  Postwar travel throughout the island nation of Indonesia was difficult at best. One day, Ted and Cecelia found themselves in a worn surplus military aircraft, flying over broad expanses of open sea. Because they were unpressurized, the noisy, drafty planes were forced to fly at lower, more turbulent altitudes. Despite their discomfort, neither of them wanted to ask questions about the experience of the pilot, the maintenance record of the plane, or the onboard communication and navigation equipment.

  On other days, they traveled on old trains previously used to move troops and equipment during the war. The few surviving coal-burning, steam-driven locomotives had long since seen their best days. The tracks showed their age, wartime damage, and evidence of many repairs. Travel was slow and bumpy. The passenger cars, with their hard wooden bench seats, were dusty and ill-suited for long trips.

  The preferred forms of transportation between cities and inland destinations were their local hosts’ well-maintained Packards, Chryslers, Lincolns, and Buicks, all painted black. Pockmarked, corduroyed, and deeply rutted roads required a driver to proceed slowly, carefully avoiding the obstacles that would increase passenger discomfort or damage his boss’s most prized possession.

  Cecelia and Ted were forced to choose between the rolled-up window, which led to a hot and humid interior atmosphere, and the windblown, dusty condition when the car’s windows were rolled down. Convoys of at least three cars were required to carry Cecelia’s security detachment and to protect her car from possible land mines, snipers, or bandits, all of which could be waiting along their route.

  Traveling by boat was the most enjoyable. Owned by local plantation, factory, and mine owners, the amazing assortment of oceangoing craft appeared to have escaped the attention of the Japanese occupational forces. They varied from motorized junks and prewar pleasure craft to reconditioned navy patrol torpedo boats, all of which were able to move through the trade winds and open seas at surprising speed.

  Chapter 22

  THE FIRST ATTACK

  As accustomed as she was to Asian cooking, Cecelia was totally unprepared for the highly seasoned procession of one unfamiliar dish after another. Frequently not knowing the source of the meat contained in one of these “new experiences,” she was relieved when the meals contained only a combination of fish and fruit, vegetables, or rice.

  Not wishing to appear unappreciative, she never refused any of the food, nor questioned sanitary practices or the source of the water. Her intestinal tract’s growing reaction to this strange diet remained a well-kept secret. Ignoring her growing fatigue and the growing symptoms of her approaching illness, Cecelia always made a point of appearing to arrive fresh and prepared to talk to each of her hosts and their guests.

  She listened, answered their questions, and asked questions of her own. Possessing a good memory, she made mental notes of each conversation, always associating them with some unusual visual observation that would help her remember what was said.

  Cecelia had asked Ted to bring his thirty-six-millimeter Rolleiflex box camera and take pictures of all the different people with whom she conversed. Understanding the importance of matching the pictures with Cecelia’s notes, Ted, in his polite way, would ask each subject for the proper spelling of their names, their addresses, and a few details about their background.

  No matter the hour or her level of fatigue, Cecelia would transcribe her mental notes of each conversation into an indexed series of notebooks, one for each location, before she retired each night.

  Word of Cecelia’s interest in local problems was spreading, and Ted was receiving more requests for her visits from local businessmen who were concerned about preserving their wealth in the event of a Dutch takeover. As much as Ted was hoping Cecelia would complete her expanding tour, he was becoming concerned about her deteriorating health and loss of weight. Not certain how to deal with the growi
ng dilemma, one morning he approached her and said, “Don’t you think it’s time to cut our trip short and return home?”

  “Ted,” she replied, “this is our only chance to see things from the bottom up. The bank is counting on me to submit a complete report. As long as we’re here, and I can keep going, I want to take advantage of every opportunity to improve our understanding of what is really happening out here.”

  Ted frowned. “Cecelia, I don’t want to alarm you, but we have been repeatedly warned about possible attacks. The success of one meeting after another has to be threatening those who want to recolonize Indonesia and take back their oil. Let’s not forget, there are a large number of Dutch citizens, interned by the Japanese, who have been released and remain here in what they regard as their country. We’ve been out here long enough for them to have learned of our presence and make whatever preparations are needed to attack us.”

  “Listen, Ted, I know you’re worried. But give me some time to think about it.”

  That night, they were guests of Lawrence Oh, one of Indonesia’s few integrated timber- and finished-lumber sawmill owner-operators. When they arrived, Cecelia took notice of the high and thick perimeter walls and the guard towers that surrounded the company’s headquarters and residential compound. It reminded her of a Hollywood set of an old Western frontier military fort.

  Dinner was served in an elevated, open-air, Polynesian-style gazebo, through which warm tropical breezes slowly flowed. Ted and Cecelia were asked to sit to the left and the right of their host at a large, doughnut-shaped, highly polished redwood table.

  They were joined by some of Lawrence Oh’s closest friends: business owners, merchants, bankers, the local mayor, the regional military commander, and the area’s labor leader. The selection of the guests, the elegance of the dinner, and the serving of such fine foods and wines had been carefully planned. It was all intended to leave no doubt as to the importance of Cecelia’s visit. Absent from the meeting were any of the local gentry, representatives of the big oil companies, and those who favored recolonization by the Dutch.

  The grounds were lit with kerosene torches. Their flickering light made this oasis in the middle of the tropical island seem like a quiet, peaceful resort. The dinner had been organized to proceed slowly, giving the guests ample opportunity to ask questions of Cecelia and Ted. A servant stood behind each of the guests, prepared to serve each of the specially prepared dishes, one course at a time. Empty wineglasses were immediately refilled, each dish from each course cleared away to make room for the next.

  Cecelia was concentrating on a conversation with the man seated to her left, when suddenly, without warning, the tranquility of the evening was shattered by large explosions, the rattle of automatic weapons, and the glare of bright yellow-white flares fired into the dark sky.

  Appearing calm but embarrassed, Lawrence said, “I’m certain that our security guards will bring things under control, but in the interim may I suggest that we retire to the safety of the nearby air raid bunker we used during the war? We will be quite safe there until all this is over.”

  Secure inside the well-protected bunker, Cecelia sat very still, ignoring the noise created by all the gunfire, exploding grenades, and flares outside the bunker. Some of the servants had thought to bring wine bottles and glasses. How can it be? Cecelia thought. All these people are carrying on conversations as if nothing were happening outside. How can they remain so calm?

  Concerned with thoughts of their own safety and engaged in nervous conversation, the host and his other guests failed to notice the change in Cecelia as she sat huddled behind some ammunition crates, clearly in distress. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her, her head bowed, and she was silently crying.

  Ted was the first to notice what had happened to Cecelia and was reminded of Mike’s early descriptions of what he saw when he first entered Cecelia’s hospital room following her kidnapping. Sitting down next to her, Ted put his arms around her, and whispered into her ear, “It will be okay, Cecelia. As soon as this shooting stops, I’ll take you home. We’ve been out here way too long.”

  “Oh, Mike you’ve found me!” Cecelia murmured, staring absently into the distance. “I was so worried you wouldn’t come.”

  Not quite certain what he should do, Ted continued to sit with his arm around her. He stayed there until the others had filed out of the bunker once the firing stopped. In a soft voice, he said, “The attack is over, Cecelia. Let me take you to your room; you will be quite safe there.”

  She didn’t respond. Then, quite unexpectedly, she said, “Ted, I’m okay—don’t you think we should join the others? We don’t want to appear impolite.”

  Despite the unmistakable clarity of what she said, Ted could still see her fragile and strained appearance.

  Seated back at the dinner table, Ted was anxious to deflect any questions that might be addressed to Cecelia. “That attack seemed to be over as soon as it started!” he said to the host. “Do you mind telling us what happened?”

  “Living out here, between these wonderful forests and the river, one learns to be prepared for almost any eventuality,” said Lawrence. “We still have to concern ourselves with the remnants of the former Dutch colonists, who resent our presence. For all intents and purposes, we have what you might call an undeclared civil war going on in this country.

  “We are fortunate. The Dutch army can’t move without the support of the outside world. Should they decide to proceed independently, our new national army is prepared to resist them at any cost. It’s important the outside world understand that a very bloody war and destruction of all the oil facilities will be the result of the Netherlands’ effort to recolonize our country.”

  Lawrence, always the consummate host, continued by saying, “Perhaps this has been a good thing; none of our people were hurt, and you have just witnessed a good example of what we hope you will explain to your friends back in America.”

  He paused for a moment to let the full significance of what he had just said sink in. “Miss Chang, now, if you will excuse the rude and unplanned interruption, I would like to finish telling you about my business and our hopes for our new country. In addition to its vast oil reserves, Indonesia is blessed with many other resources, a large and inexpensive labor force, and the will to develop both. My lumber company and the local businesses of some of my other guests are representative of thousands of small companies scattered throughout our island nation.

  “Take my lumber operation for an example. Before the war, several generations of my family owned a logging lease that permitted us to harvest the different sources of high-quality hardwoods. We used hand-operated crosscut saws to fell the trees. With the aid of large axes, we cut off the branches before teams of oxen pulled the trees to the nearest river, where they were floated downstream to our collection points. Fastened together in large rafts, with the help of primitive oceangoing tugboats, the downed trees were transported to our millpond, the same one you can see right over there. Once we finished sorting the logs for variety and size, we organized them into separate queues for processing through our sawmills. The large logs were cut into bridge timber, structural posts, and beams; the smaller trees were cut into dimensioned lumber.

  “Before the war, our business was regarded as a dirty, messy operation, an unglamorous business of marginal profitability. Correspondingly, it escaped the attention of the Dutch colonial government.”

  Pausing to make certain that all his guests’ glasses had been refilled, Lawrence continued. “Once the war started, the Japanese needed more finished lumber. They shipped in modern equipment, which allowed us to increase the volume of our production and produce the standard-sized lumber needed for ship repair and residential and military compound construction. Now that the war is over, we have the equipment, the wood, the labor, and the technical expertise to supply the emerging demands of what is fast becoming a high-growth construction market throughout Indonesia. No longer would my company, in its revi
talized form, be immune from colonial attention.”

  “Very interesting,” said Cecelia. “Can you tell me about the most important challenges you must overcome before you can become a major supplier of wood products in this region?”

  Without hesitating he said, “We have to know that we can operate independently of the Dutch colonial rule that threatens us. Until that threat is removed, we can’t attract the financial resources or enter into the kind of long contracts required to take advantage of the emerging markets in Southeast Asia.”

  It wasn’t until they were headed to their respective guest rooms in Lawrence’s home that Ted said to Cecelia, “If you will excuse me, I want to talk to Mr. Oh for a while longer. I need to develop a better understanding of what that attack was all about. Tomorrow morning, when I file my report, I anticipate that I am going to be asked a lot of questions.”

  Back in her own quarters, despite the lateness of the hour, her fatigue, and her frayed nerves, Cecelia faithfully sat down at the small writing desk and began to document all that had happened: the names and comments of her host and each of his guests and her own observations and opinions. When she finally finished, she carefully placed her notebook in her heavy leather briefcase, locked it, and placed the chain that held the key around her neck.

  Chapter 23

  MEETING IN GENEVA

  It was July 18, 1946. After speaking to Jacques in New York, Claudine had reached Mike in Dallas. She explained her fruitful conversations with David and Prince Habib before asking him to meet them in Switzerland. When Mike had suggested bringing along Juan Pablo, Claudine had enthusiastically agreed.

  Joining Prince Habib and Sir David Marcus, Claudine, Mike, and Juan Pablo were ready to go to work at the luxurious and exclusive Beau Rivage hotel. Built in 1865, this ninety-three-suite hotel provided its distinguished guests with magnificent views of Lake Geneva and Mont Blanc.