by Jay Tinsiano
He looked in the fridge and saw a couple of beers and some lemonade Sprites. The bottle tops were slightly rusted and, on closer inspection, all the drinks in the fridge were long out of date. Cardboard boxes filled with old newspapers lay neglected behind the counter. Opposite the bar were more boxes piled up and an old sofa that had definitely seen better days.
He then checked out the room, which seemed clean and in order, then looked in the toilet and showers. Dead leaves fluttered across the pale tiled floor and large cobwebs lurked in the corners. It didn't look like there had been any guests for some time.
Frank lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan whip through its rotation, and felt his eyelids flicker as they became heavy.
*******
As if it were a harbinger of the death to come, a black crow flew across the road ahead and perched on the dark tree that looked evil to Frank’s eyes. The bird hopped along towards the end of a branch and then suddenly froze, as if to watch them drive by.
"You’re driving too fast, Patrick!"
"No I’m bloody not. It’s a duel carriageway, a 70 miles per hour limit..."
Frank pulled his coat tighter around him, as if to blanket out the anxiety.
"It’s still too fast, I don’t like it!" his mother shouted from the passenger seat.
"Stop arguing, I hate it," Frank whined, his little fingers fidgeting uncontrollably. His father turned his head slightly to address Frank. "Sorry Frankie. Your mother, she’s..."
"Watch out for that bloody lorry. It hasn’t seen..."
The memory dimmed; time slowed down, taking its toll; spinning and rushing forward into the blackness. And then only a boy’s scream remained.
A light faded into the darkness, circling slowly and then the face of a concerned woman filled his vision. "Are you awake?"
A dull pain on the side of the head helped bring the face into sharp focus. A nurse, with brown friendly eyes, clicked the torch off and stared down intently, brown wisps of hair fell around the back of her ears.
"Can you speak?" she asked.
The boy coughed and mumbled something which the nurse could not hear. "Do you want something to drink?" The boy shook his head.
"Where’s my mum and dad?" he asked before coughing again.
"Shhh. It's ok. You try and get some more sleep, now."
*******
Frank opened his eyes, his mouth felt like sandpaper and there was a distinct buzzing in his head. He sat up slowly and decided to stroll down to Krabi town for a bite to eat as the contact was not due for a good four hours.
Draining his beer bottle in the empty bar, Frank looked at his watch, a fake Omega he had picked up in Bangkok. Finally, it was nearly time to meet his Greg character.
After a walk back up the hill from the town to sit on the veranda at the ‘Bird House' and listening to the crickets, Frank watched the odd starling fly across the horizon. He did a batch of press ups to burn off some energy and then paced around the patio.
About an hour later, Greg arrived and shook Frank's hand. He was French, average height, with a dark ponytail and goatee beard. He wouldn’t look out of place on the backpack circuit. They went to Frank's room and Greg gave Frank a pack of two hundred cigarettes.
"Thanks. And the gems?"
Greg looked at him quizzically for a moment and then smiled.
"They’re in one of the packs."
"Gems, not drugs, right? That's what we agreed."
The man looked offended for a moment.
"You can check. Definitely not drugs."
"OK. So where do you want me to go?" asked Frank.
Greg moved to the bed and took out a map of Bangkok, laying it flat on the yellow sheets, and pointed to a street near the Bangkok railway station with a pen.
"There’s a country and western bar called ‘Texan Bill’s'. Richard will meet you there and pay you. Get there for the eighteenth. Seven o'clock in the evening."
He folded up the map again and put it in his pocket. His eyes flicked around the spartan room as he held out his hand.
"That’s all. It’s a piece of cake. See you again, perhaps."
Greg left the room and Frank listened to the hum of his car disappear as he stared at the Lucky Strike cigarettes on the bed. He picked them up. They were shrink-wrapped in clear film, as if brand new.
The following day, Frank took the overnight tourist coach back to Bangkok. He hardly slept and his mind flipped between Jodie, his new friend Richard and then once again, Maria.
It was a strange way to say goodbye, disappearing like that. Still, she didn’t owe him anything. It wasn’t like they were an item. Frank couldn't help wondering if he'd see her again. There were so many faces while travelling, he thought, most of the time they turned up again somewhere along the trail.
Frank didn’t intend to hang around Bangkok for long. He wanted to sort out a new passport from the Embassy to replace the stolen one and get his money.
Texan Bill's was a themed country and western bar, where the waitresses wore cowboy stetson hats and a small band played bluegrass to the delight of what Frank assumed was Bangkok's American ex-pat community.
Richard was in a corner booth and waved at Frank.
"Well? Easy peesy, right?' he said, grinning at Frank as he sat down. Frank had the cigarette pack in a plastic carrier bag and held onto it tightly. Richard nodded, immediately understanding Frank's expression that told him he wanted to get straight down to business.
"OK, I need to check the goods…in the back." He jerked a thumb behind him towards the toilets.
Frank hesitated for a moment and then slowly pushed the bag across the table and watched as Richard disappeared with it into the rest room. A waitress took Frank's order for a beer and then he waited, trying to ignore the growing tension in his stomach. He needed that money badly and as he closely watched the toilet door, began to wonder what would happen if the man called Greg and just given him a normal carton of cigarettes, with no gems. Frank hadn't checked them. Deep down, he hadn't wanted to know.
The door opened and Richard made his way back towards him, expressionless. Easing back into the booth, he placed the carrier bag onto the bench next to him. His hand moved under his shirt and he unclipped a shoulder money pouch and handed it over to Frank.
"Sorry about the sweat, mate. But it's all good. Here's what we agreed."
Frank took the pouch and checked the contents under the table. He allowed an internal sigh of relief at the sight of the notes inside.
"Have you ever been to a Thai boxing match Frank?"
*******
The atmosphere was heavy with smoke and the cries of a thousand Thai yelps as the opponents literally kicked the shit out of each other. Their combination of punching and kicking blurred fast and furious in the caged ring, jabbing at each other like furious cockerels.
Richard turned to Frank, sweat glistening on his forehead. "This is what it’s all about, eh Frank?"
Frank nodded silently, unsure of a reason to argue.
"So, why could Greg or someone else not have brought them up?"
"Simple logistics, Frank," said Richard. "Yes, any number of people could do it, but people I work with are very busy. Also I need Greg in the south at all times. Anyway, I trust your face and you’re from the old country." He patted Frank on the back in a jovial gesture of friendship.
At that moment a short, stocky Thai man came up and spoke to Richard in Thai. Frank couldn't hear them anyway and continued to watch the match. The man in the blue corner was getting the upper hand and getting kicks and punches through his opponent’s defence.
"Frank, this is Police Lieutenant General Chatri Anuwat of the Thai Royal police, for the Bangkok province."
Frank shook hands and felt slightly unnerved that Richard was introducing him to a Thai policeman, a very high level one at that.
As if reading his mind, Richard winked at him. "It's OK."
The police lieutenant smiled at Frank but said nothing. H
is eyes studied him for a moment before returning to the boxing ring. He drank some kind of liquor from a paper cup and was approached by another Thai man who took a wad of Thai Baht notes from him. Frank guessed that the police lieutenant was having a fairly hefty bet on the outcome.
Chapter 12
Richard walked past the Grand China Hotel on Thanon Yaowarat and then crossed the busy road that bustled with Chinese street traders hawking their exotic Asian dishes. He stepped into a secluded bar and moved slowly to the back, looking around for someone. His eyes took a while adjusting to the low lit interior which was illuminated with dark blue and pink lights fixed inside paper lanterns. Finally, he saw the familiar, smartly dressed figure of a striking mixed race man with shoulder length hair sitting in an alcove near the back.
"Hello Theo."
"Hello Richard," said Theo, acknowledging him curtly.
Richard sat down on the expansive leather seat and signalled the waitress for a drink.
"So, how is our friend?" asked Theo.
"He's made contact. He's in. I had him do an easy courier job from the South," Richard replied, evidently pleased with himself.
"Good," said Theo in a matter of fact manner.
"He mentioned a friend called Jimmy Duffy, who might be up for something."
Theo didn't mention he already knew who Jimmy was and had arranged the theft of both their possessions and money in Koh Samui. Unfortunately, Jimmy hadn't been so careless to leave his main valuables in his hut. But with Frank almost out of money he was more likely to take up Richard's offer.
"That is good to know. Does Frank trust you?" Theo took a slug of beer, his sharp blue eyes settling on the Englishman.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Well he had better. We’ll probably need his friend too," Theo whispered.
"So what's this all about?" Richard asked, before immediately holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Sorry, I know I shouldn't ask."
Theo ignored him and fished a five hundred baht note out of his wallet, tossing it onto the table next to his half finished beer and stood up.
"I'll be seeing you," he said and walked off. Richard held his beer up, glancing sideways as Theo disappeared past him. "Great to see you too, Theo," he said.
Chapter 13
Frank walked along the Thanon Yaowarat road and glanced up at the address Richard had given him. It was an old, dilapidated, concrete building with a heavy steel door. A metal plaque had the name, 'Stokes Consultancy' etched into it, with an intercom just underneath.
For the past few days Frank had been weighing up Richard’s latest offer. "It’s great money," he had said. "Less than a day’s work and a trip on an aeroplane," Richard had grinned, as if that was the icing on the cake.
"It doesn't involve drug or gem smuggling does it, Rich? Because, you can bloody well forget it."
"Absolutely not, Frank! It’s completely legal, working with Asian Government agencies. The only reason this has come up at all is because I know people in Government circles."
Frank figured it was worth hearing them out. The alternative, as a sympathetic Swedish traveller listening to Frank’s woes had suggested, was selling his passport and reporting it stolen to get a replacement. A Swede called Bernt knew an African gang and he could make the introductions. Frank did not even consider it but he was worried about his finances.
The gem run hadn't paid that much and he knew his cash wouldn’t last. There wasn't even enough to get back home. The alternative was to run crying to the British Embassy and he didn’t fancy that at all.
Frank pressed the buzzer.
"Good afternoon."
"It's Frank. To see Richard Stokes."
"Hi Frank."
The door buzzed and Frank let himself in. Richard had explained to him that he used different names. A vital contingency in his line of work, he had explained.
Inside the sparse room there were two desks and a large table, as well as various computers, phones and a fax machine. Richard greeted Frank with a smile and a handshake and introduced him to the Thai police captain he had met at the boxing match, who once again smiled and said nothing.
"This is Dean Whiteman." Richard gestured to a tall, officious, western man in a grey suit who peered at Frank through his gold rimmed glasses.
"How do you do, Frank? Thanks for coming," he smiled and gave Frank a firm handshake.
Richard offered everyone drinks, said a few words and then handed over to Whiteman.
"I'm from the Legislative Council of Hong Kong. We are mainly dealing with the transfer of Hong Kong to Chinese rule in 1997. However, we've been asked to help the Hong Kong authorities and the Special Duties Unit test their counter terrorism responses in a drill."
Whiteman paused and sipped from a glass of water.
"What we're basically looking for are volunteers to help with the exercise. You will be compensated and I'll come onto that in a moment."
Frank glanced around at the group of men. He remembered Carl had once mentioned something about similar drills taking place in England. It made sense.
"The exercise will involve various journeys that must take place at a certain date and time. I can't emphasise the importance of this enough."
Frank nodded in agreement.
"We'll pay you $5000 US and naturally you will receive the travel expenses to Hong Kong. Half in advance. It'll be a same day return flight so no accommodation is needed. Does that sound agreeable so far?" asked Whiteman.
Frank leaned back in his chair. "May I ask why this has all been arranged in Bangkok and what the Thai police connection is?"
"Fair question, Mr Bowen. Exercises such as these are carried out throughout Asia, usually as a planned blueprint. So each nation, and this has included South Korea, Vietnam and Malaysia, have an agreement to share intelligence when it comes to counter terrorism. The agreement includes exercises of this kind."
He paused again and, when no one spoke, continued: "Your reference to the Royal Thai police and the police Lieutenant General here, simply ties in with that. That's really all I can say without breaching confidential information."
Frank nodded his head, satisfied. "Ok."
"Richard mentioned you may be able to bring in a friend. We need two people for the exercise ideally. It's the same deal for him, if he's interested?"
"I should be able to get hold of him, I'll ask," said Frank.
"Good. It has to happen on the 2nd of February, which is one week from today. As I said, dates, times and places are very, very important. There are a lot of resources being devoted to this. Do you understand?"
"Yes loud and clear. Like I said, I'm happy to do it. I need the money to stay out here for a bit longer and then get back home," said Frank.
"Great. Any further questions?"
Frank shook his head.
"Richard will brief you on the details and will give you all the documents you need."
With that, Dean Whiteman shook hands with Frank and left the room.
Richard smiled at Frank, patted him on the shoulder and offered another round of drinks. The remaining men in the room seem to eye him with a curious regard.
*******
The next morning, Frank managed to track down the number of the hostel Jimmy was staying. He had already moved on, but had left a forwarding phone number as promised. Eventually Frank got through and filled Jimmy in with the details.
"Sounds like it'll be worth looking at. I certainly need the money, Frank. It’d be great to catch up again anyway. I'll get the overnight to Bangkok."
Jimmy Duffy met with Frank a few days later, as arranged at his guesthouse, and they caught up over a few beers.
"So it's all kosher then, you think Frank? I can't afford to get into any murky waters. I didn't mention my ma. She's sick. Breast cancer. I received a letter last week. So after this, I'm off back home."
Frank looked pained and leaned over to put on a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "Jimmy, I'm really sorry to hear that mate
. You should get back there and be with her."
"It's ok. I need the money. I can use it to help her or take her on holiday. Hey, any excuse to stay in the sun, eh?" he said, winking at his friend.
Looking out onto the street he was facing, Frank watched a group of builders as they scurried along rickety bamboo scaffolding as if they were on a tightrope. He had gone over the details with Richard and it all made sense to him. The money would keep him on the travel trail for a long while yet. He could do the rest of Asia and then the rest of the world beckoned. Australia, New Zealand? The prospect was truly exciting.
"If you're absolutely sure, Jimmy?"
The Irishman nodded.
"OK. It's just an exercise; which is pretty common with most countries. I know my friend who works at MI6 said it was pretty standard practice at home," Frank said.
"Well, if you're happy, I'm happy. Here's to Hong Kong, Frank."
The two men clinked beer bottles to their new found adventure.
Chapter 14
The plane from Bangkok banked a hard left as it came into Hong Kong International Airport at Kai Tak that jutted out into Kowloon Bay over the impressive skyline. It was touted as one of the world's most dramatic air descents and the two men would certainly have agreed with that as they stared at the sky-high buildings flashing past their window.
As instructed, Frank and Jimmy parted company at the airport terminal, shaking hands and confirming their meet rendezvous, before Frank headed out to find a taxi. The flight had been late and neither of them had time to lose. Frank waited in line for about ten minutes and jumped in with his small backpack when one became available.
"Tsim Sha Tsui star ferry please."
Studying his map carefully, Frank plotted out his route once again. He needed to take the short ferry journey across to the island and from there get the 11.30am MTR train to Causeway Bay. He glanced at his watch which read 10:45. He was already sailing close to the wind.
The taxi crawled along the road and Frank looked across at Kowloon, shimmering in the dusty heat. Eventually they reached the Kai Tuk tunnel where bright sunshine was replaced by the artificial glare of the tunnel lights. They reappeared onto the East Kowloon corridor and headed towards the west of the city, where ramshackled buildings, covered in Chinese graffiti, towered over them on each side.
