Steven quickly calculated that after paying his credit cards and a bank loan, whatever remained from the advance would barely cover his expenses. He certainly wouldn’t have much left if the mission was cancelled and the balance of his fee was not forthcoming. The deal was starting to look less than sound just minutes into negotiations. But Steven was not in a position to argue even though he had managed to double the size of the fee through bluff. A good job he had, as ten percent of the initial fee offered amounted to just sixty five thousand pounds. That was not remotely enough to clear his debts and pay the expenses of an assignment in South East Asia.
“So if all goes well you get the credit. If it goes wrong, I get the blame. The British government and its administrators will never change. I can see why you wanted to hire me,” Steven had said, his words laced with cynicism.
“Not quite, old boy,” Rupert had advised. “I’ll be coming along too. My life could be on the line as well as yours. I rate your ability as a professional soldier rather highly. Thought I’d stand a better chance of surviving in your care. Better the devil you know and all that. Bit of a compliment really, considering I don’t actually like you and your class on a personal level.”
Montgomery-Fairfax had given a condescending smile.
“Insulting and complimentary at the same time. You’ll have to make up your mind,” Steven said as he stared at the man he was apparently supposed to guard on some potentially dangerous mission involved with the drugs trade, wondering how anyone could have become so out of touch with the rest of humanity.
“I will have diplomatic immunity of course, something not available to yourself,” Rupert had added.
Rupert’s arrogant advice had reminded Steven of his youth, when he had seen two bullies from a nearby public school roughing up a black kid. When they had set upon him too, his unarmed combat skills, honed since early teens, provided them with a major surprise. With scant regard for his own safety when four of their friends had intervened, he had fought them to a standstill. To confirm the veracity of karma, the skinny young black kid he had rushed to defend, had grown up to become a heavyweight fighter. They had remained friends ever since.
“Diplomatic immunity? Not really up to much in some out of the way spot in Asia,” Steven had replied. “Perhaps someone in the corridors of power doesn’t like you. Assigning you to head a hazardous mission on the other side of the globe, isn’t exactly a friendly act. Probably someone you caned too often at public school. Tough world, isn’t it Wupert?”
Steven’s satirical comment failed to make any impression on Rupert’s boarding-school hardened persona.
“But you’ll like it in South East Asia,” Steven continued. “Lots of effeminate, brown skinned young boys for you to play with.”
Steven’s observation concerning Rupert’s sexual orientation did the trick and Rupert reacted. “My sexual preferences are my own concern, and possibly I have made an enemy in the corridors of power. However, if you accept the mission we’ll be stuck with each other and I will be depending upon you for my safety.”
Having been instrumental in losing Steven his commission in the SAS - on the pretext it had been Steven who had been negligent in his duties, concerning a mission Rupert had devised - Montgomery-Fairfax now needed his disgraced officer to carry out an assignment where his fate would be in Steven’s hands. Steven had smiled at the paradox.
“After the Arab debacle, you’d better hope I don’t screw up for real this time. That is, if I decide to take the job.”
Rupert had again looked tense as Steven contemplated whether to accept the mission.
“I’ll think about it, old sport,” Steven had said as he stood up to leave, prolonging Rupert’s suspense by walking slowly to the door. “Perhaps I could be persuaded,” Steven had stated as he reached the door and opened it.
The silence that followed Steven’s casually stated remark, extended Rupert’s moments of tension. “I have been bored of late, so maybe I’ll accept the commission. But I’ll need three million US,” Steven had added, savouring Rupert’s pained expression.
“I’m kidding,” Steven appended, noting that Rupert’s red face denoted high blood pressure which at some time could turn into a stroke.
“I’ll accept two million but only if the advance is ready by tomorrow afternoon. Please arrange it,” Steven said as he smiled, gave a mock salute and left Rupert’s plain and somewhat underfurnished Whitehall office. [*] The term ‘fag’ was contrived to describe young publicschool slaves forced to serve and service older pupils. That or receive regular and severe beatings. The term was later used to describe any male who took it up the ass.
[**] Little known outside of private circles, there are numerous clubs and societies meeting in otherwise respectable towns and villages throughout the UK, dedicated to spanking and being spanked.
Beatings are sometimes so savage, buttocks require a skin graft. These somewhat perverse clubs and societies are prevalently frequented by ex-public school boys and girls.
Yes, women too.
30
The Art of War
Trying to avoid direct eye contact, Field Marshal James Chang looked in Steven’s direction. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Cha Chin China tea, nam som orange juice, mai sai nam keng, no ice as before? I remember you speak some Thai.”
“I was just considering the circumstances that brought me here, and why Montgomery-Fairfax will be with me on the mission. Your last dossier only gave outline details. There were some very important elements missing.”
“That was the purpose of our meeting today, to brief you fully.”
Hearing the ‘was’ part of James Chang’s information, Steven’s brain instantly explored a few scenarios from ‘The Art of War’, wondering if some kind of Oriental scam could be brewing.
“There have been some unfortunate delays,” Field Marshal Chang advised, his body language suggesting the meeting was about to terminate.
Steven expressed no particular emotion as he waited for the field marshal to continue.
But Field Marshal Chang did not appear to have anything else on his mind, so Steven brought the meeting to an end on his own terms.
“So the brief could be changed for a third time. It was a pleasure meeting with you again. I could do with some rest and recreation. You have my coordinates if you need to get in touch.”
Steven sensed he had gained face in James Chang’s eyes. “Have you any idea if the delay will be short or long?” Steven casually enquired as he was about to depart from Field Marshal Chang’s elaborately furnished office.
“I do not know, there are matters beyond my control,” James Chang answered, giving absolutely nothing away.
31
Fuck It
“Fuck it,” Steven thought, as he walked along the brightly polished corridor leading from James Chang’s office. “And I will,” his thoughts added. “I’ll also visit a few Buddhist monasteries now that I have time on my hands. Perhaps I’ll learn something.”
Recognising the farang as a VIP visitor, the guard at the exit gave Steven a disciplined military salute.
32
Time On His Hands
Hailing a taxi, Steven’s intellect worked overtime as he attempted to compute why the mission was suddenly in suspension and how he was going to fill the time.
It was a pity the young flight attendant had disappeared without a forwarding address. But that was Thailand, people just drifted into your life and out again. No attachment you see, against Buddhist precepts. Attachment leads to pain.
Speeding along in his taxi, Steven’s multifarious thoughts faded into the ether as he followed the Eastern path to visualise his own personal tantra.
33
Affairs, But Not of State
Steven returned to the land of the living feeling refreshed and relaxed, the jumble of confusion which had mushed up his mind, in order now. During spells when the taxi hardly moved in the crowded Bangkok streets, his thoughts
returned to recent events with a clarity that had not been there a short time before.
You’d have to be pathologically shy to feel isolated in Bangkok. The streets teem with people day and night, and such is the outgoing nature of the Siamese people, conversations are more easily commenced than in any other country in the world.
Yet Steven felt alone. Not lonely, just alone. Within himself. A short period studying Zen with an American buddy later killed in Nam, had taught him practises that would take his presence to places beyond. Steven wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, he had not travelled far enough down the road of enlightenment to be sure.
If unaccompanied, Bangkok certainly had its compensations. In fact it was probably the best place in the world if you were alone, as anything could be purchased day or night. It was definitely a city that never slept, and no matter how outrageous a whim, wish or fancy, concerning any pastime, taste or need - within or against the law - Bangkok and Thailand in general, would move Heaven and Earth to supply it. Subject to the client having the requisite quantity of cash, of course.
Due to constant travel throughout Steven’s military career, it had never been possible to develop a relationship of any depth. After he’d been asked to resign from the service, money was too short.
Steven thought about Gunn for a few fleeting moments. But she was gone and he would have to get her out of his mind. She had probably left on another Royal Thai Airways flight to London by now. He would take lunch at Chulalongkorn University sometime in the week. There were plenty of intelligent young Thai girls interested in making contact with an older farang. If you were looking for a young companion with above average manners and smarts, experienced Thai hands knew the country’s most prominent universities were a good place to start. Many were working their way through college the horizontal way, and others were more than willing to link up with an older farang for increased face, emotional reasons, and last but not least, to improve their English. Thai people are very practical.
Having cleared enough of his debts to keep the banks happy for a while, at least Steven was not broke. What remained of his advance would fund a vacation and the mission. Unless the financially unexpected occurred, he was viable.
But perhaps the reason for Steven’s tenure in Thailand had been nullified. If so, what remained of the advance was his. In such circumstances, Rupert would finally have paid him back at least something for the damage caused to his military career. Should this be the conclusion to his current sojourn in Siam, an inscrutable, organic, Eastern-type solution would have occurred.
Steven continued to meditate on the unexpected turn of events which the meeting with Field Marshal Chang had recently revealed.
34
ABlast From the Recent Past
After decades of work in tropical climes, Steven’s routine was to take a siesta in the afternoon. This would be followed by a work out, shave and shower.
That night he followed the same procedure, and after a light meal in the hotel restaurant, sat quietly taking in the warm and friendly atmosphere of the climate and the character of the Thai people.
Gazing at the brightly lit boats hurrying along the river - commerce and industry knowing no jobsworth time constraints in the Orient - Steven failed to notice Gunn.
The sound of her exquisitely feminine voice caught his attention as she called a waiter. Steven turned to see if it really could be the young woman he had made love to a couple of days earlier. Or rather, who had so enthusiastically made love to him. Gunn smiled just a little, but said nothing.
“Would you like me to join you or are you waiting for another farang?” Steven asked, taking care not to speak too loudly. He was farang in origin and mildly pissed off that she’d left him high and dry, but not so crassly Western as to express his inner feelings to a degree where embarrassment would occur for either party. It would take a great deal to obliterate his Eastern cultural configuration completely.
“Other farang not due yet,” Gunn replied. “I forget you stay at this hotel.”
Steven sat at Gunn’s table.
“Not really wait for man, just farang humour. I half farang, remember?”
“How could I forget,” Steven replied. “Your hasip hasip (fifty fifty) beauty is forever branded on my psyche. Sorry about the sweet mouth, just farang bullshit. We both know you are actually rather plain.”
Gunn could not have it both ways. If the farang could not acknowledge her beauty, he must act as if she were plain. But Gunn did not seem pleased, she knew she looked terrific so did not take kindly to being called plain. Steven realised that the Siamese part of Gunn’s genetic make up had clearly not suppressed the farang half. He had accurately targeted her cross-cultural confusion, something he could personally identify with due to the schizoid conflict intermittently experienced from his own mix of Western plus Eastern conditioning.
“I’m surprised to see you,” Steven remarked. “I thought you’d be back on a flight to some world capital by now.
“Left airline for good. Travel enough to last lifetime. Thailand home, so stay for a while,” Gunn confirmed, her tone suggesting that no in-depth explanation would be forthcoming regarding the termination of her airline career.
“No farang and no job. What can we do to fill the time? Perhaps a holiday romance would be in order,” Steven suggested, tongue in cheek.
“I’ll see if I can find you someone,” Gunn replied. “Have many girlfriends would like to meet rich and available farang.”
“All farangs are not rich,” Steven advised. “However, currently I’m not broke either.”
“Heart what matters, money not important for me,” Gunn stated with a degree of sincerity.
Neither his judgement of the opposite sex nor the Oriental mind were infallible, and Steven was uncertain whether Gunn was speaking the whole truth and nothing but. Gunn probably did not know either. She presumably hoped that heart was more important than money, but it was easy to believe that heart was the most important factor when you already had money.
“Are you free tonight or are you expensive?” Steven asked.
“Another farang joke, I think,” Gunn said, blankly.
“Would you like to spend the evening with me is what I’m asking?” Steven enquired, more serious than before.
“I would like to see a movie. Will you take me?” Gunn asked.
“My pleasure,” Steven replied.
Gunn leaned across the table in a furtive manner, her voice soft and sexy. “But first need fuck you. Farang have beautiful body. Would like to see and touch again.”
“Nothing like honesty,” Steven thought. “But if I have a beautiful body, musn’t keep it to myself.”
Buoyed by the thought of pleasures to come, Steven tipped the waiter too handsomely.
35
Holiday Romance
That night and the following weeks were idyllic - for Steven anyway. He would never know what Oriental women really thought. They could be placid and apparently contented in the company of a man - certainly willing to play their part even when the man was a bastard - but no one really knew for sure what was in their mind.
Steven hoped he was not a bastard. Far from perfect he knew, but not a complete bastard. In fact he did genuinely like Gunn, and if it were ever possible to lose the shell that life had case-hardened around his emotions, he could probably love her. But he would settle for a holiday romance if that is what it was, and would try not to become too attached. There was nothing worse than a man or a woman becoming so dependant upon their partner that suffocation occurred, and whatever they had, or thought they had, died from lack of space.
Gunn kept her emotions to herself and never said ‘chan luk poom’, I love you, even though she obviously adored Steven’s body and was sexually not backward in coming forward. In fact Gunn liked sex backward, forward, and many other ways, too.
The call from Field Marshal Chang which Steven daily expected, never came. Spring turned to summer and in between
prolific love making, the couple explored the city. The King of Thailand’s Palace; the zoo; the Crocodile Farm; temples; river boat trips to outlying towns and villages; meals at the city’s plethora of restaurants, Steven and Gunn were easily able to fill the time in South East Asia’s most tourist-friendly nation.
A warm climate, great food and friendly faces are fine. Sexual worship by a beautiful young Eurasian girl also has much to recommend it. But nonstop pleasure can become boring, and Steven’s growing dissatisfaction caused him to explore some of the less sensuous elements of the country’s culture.
36
Gold
Seeking less hedonistic alternatives to fill his time in Siam
- as he awaited news of the mission he had been unofficially hired to execute by a consortium of Western governments in cooperation with one Eastern administration - Steven travelled outside of Bangkok, seeking the gold of wisdom inside the spires of Thailand’s many Buddhist temples.
Thailand, the nation’s later name, means ‘Land of the Free’. Nothing could more accurately describe the character of the Thai people.
Predominately rural, Thailand is a beautiful country pungent with the fragrance of tropical blossom. The only fully practising Buddhist nation left on Earth, Thailand is unique.
Visiting a wat not far from the Cambodian border in the South East, Steven’s attention was drawn to a colourful symbol painted on a wall.
“What are you looking at?” Gunn asked. “The red triangle within a golden circle is a tantra,” a Buddhist monk who had overheard the question, advised in a soft but authoritative tone. “A tantra is a visual symbol that can assist the practise of meditation.” “I’ve come across that emblem many times before,” Steven said, thoughtfully. “It was found inside the pyramids of ancient Egypt, you can find it in Hindu temples, it’s used in Judaism with an extra triangle, and the Masonic Order feature it in their insignia. It was also engraved on Alexander the Great’s armour. My grandfather owned an antique dagger with the symbol embossed on the hilt.”
Sleepless in Bangkok Page 10
