The driver cursed and stamped on the brake pedal. Ahead of them a brown-uniformed policeman with a white belt and holstered gun was waving them to stop.
T THE SOLITARY MAN 351 Bird banged on the wall of the cab, three hard slaps to let the men hidden in the back know that they were to keep quiet. 'Were you speeding?' Bird asked the driver.
The driver looked at him blankly. 'I don't know,' he said. 'How fast were we going?'
The policeman held a walkie-talkie to his mouth. As the truck slowed to a stop, Bird saw a white police car parked off the road. Another policeman, this one with three stripes on his sleeve, was leaning against the bonnet, his arms folded across his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. At least it wasn't a roadblock, thought Bird. The policeman with the walkie-talkie walked slowly over to the driver's side of the cab and waited for the driver to wind down the window.
'Let me do the talking,' said Bird. He opened his door and climbed down.
The policeman was already taking out his notebook. 'You were speeding,' he said.
Bird apologised deferentially. He earned more in one day than the cop earned in a year, but they still had a long way to go and unless the policeman was treated with due respect he could hold them up.
'A fine has to be paid,' said the policeman, his pen poised over the notebook. There were two levels of fine, Bird knew: one official, one unofficial. The unofficial fine was twice the official rate, but it did away with the paperwork. Nothing was written down, and the money went straight into the cop's pocket. It was a typical Thai compromise, one in which both parties prospered. Bird took out his wallet, handed over two thousand baht, and thanked the policeman for his consideration. Thirty seconds later they were back on the road, hurtling northwards at exactly the same speed as before.
CHAU-LING WALKED INTO THE arrivals area with Tim Carver and Ricky Lim following close behind her. A soldier in khaki fatigues was holding a sheet of paper with her name written 352 STEPHEN LEATHER on it in capital letters. He took them outside to where a large black saloon was waiting, its engine running. The soldier scurried ahead and opened the door for them. They sat in the back and the soldier joined the driver in the front.
'Who exactly do you know in the military?' Carver asked.
'A friend of my father's,' said Chauling.
'Your father has a friend in the Thai army?' Carver felt Lim stiffen in the seat next to him.
'My father uses a lawyer in Bangkok, the lawyer has family connections in the army, blah, blah, blah. Thailand is all about who you know, just like Hong Kong.'
'Your father must be a very important man,' said Carver. Chau-ling said nothing. Carver spoke to the soldier in Thai. The soldier told him they were going to an army camp close to the border, about four hours away. Carver gave Chau-ling a sideways glance. He wanted to ask her more about her father, but he doubted that she would be naive enough to tell him anything. She was a smart girl, this Tsang Chau-ling; within a few short hours she had virtually taken control of the situation and given him the distinct impression that he was only along for the ride. He settled back in his seat. If he was just along for the ride, he might as well try to get some sleep.
THE TRUCK SWERVED FROM side to side, jolting Hutch awake. 'Are you okay, old lad?' asked Winter.
'Yeah. How much longer?'
'Not long now.' Harrigan snored loudly, and shifted his position. 'Sleeps a lot, doesn't he?' said Winter.
'It's the tension. I need to take a leak.'
Winter pushed an empty water bottle across the floor. 'Be my guest.'
'I'll wait,' said Hutch.
'It's pitch dark in here, nobody's going to see. Besides, it's not as if you haven't done it in front; of me before.'
'I'll wait,' repeated Hutch.
The truck turned to the left and the cardboard boxes rubbed against each other. 'This might be it,' said Winter.
They made another couple of turns and awkward gear changes and bumped over something in the road. The truck stopped and they heard voices outside, then it lurched forward. Two minutes later the truck came to a stop again. This time both cab doors opened and closed and someone banged on the side of the truck. Harrigan woke up and began to cough. The coughs turned to retching and he threw up. The smell was nauseating in the confined space and Hutch put his hand over his mouth.
'Bloody hell,' said Winter. 'This is a linen suit.'
'Sorry,' said Harrigan, and retched again.
The back of the truck rattled down and they heard boxes being pulled out and stacked on the ground. Winter stood up and unhooked the webbing straps. The last of the boxes was removed and soft moonlight illuminated the back of the truck. Bird stood there, grinning. Harrigan was on his hands and knees, shaking his head. Hutch helped him to his feet.
Winter jumped down from the truck and examined his trousers, lifting each leg in turn. 'You were bloody lucky, Ray,' he said. He took a cigar case from his jacket pocket, extracted a large Cuban cigar and lit it with a match as Hutch helped Harrigan out of the truck.
They were parked at the rear of a multi-storey concrete building. To their right was the hum of large air-conditioners and the clanging of metal pans being knocked together. 'It's a hotel,' explained Bird.
Hutch looked at Winter in amazement. 'We break out of prison, we sit in the back of a truck for twelve hours, we're about to cross a border illegally and you check us into a hotel? What's the game?'
Winter chuckled softly. 'It's okay, old lad. Zhou owns it. We're safe here.'
The driver got back into the cab and lay down on the seat, his feet sticking out of the open window. Bird went around to the front of the hotel while Winter led Hutch and Harrigan through a door and up three flights of stairs to a deserted corridor. 'This floor is empty and the lift won't stop here. No one will see us,' said Winter.
nr 354 STEPHEN LEATHER 'How long do we have to wait here?' asked Hutch.
Winter looked at his watch. 'A couple of hours at most. There's a guy coming who'll take us over the river into Burma. Once he's here we can go.'
Bird appeared with a key on a large acrylic key ring. He unlocked a door and they went inside. It was a large room with a double bed and basic furniture. A framed print of an ocean scene hung above the bed, slightly off centre. Winter nodded at a door to the left. 'There's a bathroom there. It'll be some time before we see another one, so make use of it. I'm going to have a shower.'
Winter strode into the bathroom with his cigar. 'Bird, we're , going to need more towels,' he called.
Bird threw the door a mock salute and left the room.
Harrigan lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
'Are you okay?' asked Hutch.
'No,' said Harrigan flatly. 'I need a hit.'
'It'll pass.'
'You don't know what you're talking about,' said Harrigan, his voice loaded with bitterness. He rolled over and curled up into a fetal ball.
Hutch dropped into an armchair. He felt the transmitter press against his stomach. He wondered what would happen to Harrigan if he pressed the button and summoned the helicopters. Would the DEA allow Harrigan to keep his freedom or would they send him back to prison? And if they did send him back behind bars, how would Hutch feel? He still hadn't decided whether or not he was going to activate the beacon. A lot would depend on what happened once they crossed the border. In the bathroom, the shower kicked into life.
'DO YOU MIND?' ASKED Carver, showing the cigarette packet to Chau-ling. She shook her head and Carver lit one. They were sitting on camp stools in a green canvas tent illuminated by an electric bulb hanging from a mental pole. Ricky Lim stood at the entrance to the tent like a sentry on guard. There was a metal desk THE SOLITARY MAN 355 in the far corner of the tent, and a rusting grey filing cabinet next to it. On the filing cabinet stood a half-empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Red Label and several glasses.
'What do you know about this colonel?' he asked.
'Absolutely nothing,' she said.
Carver blew a smoke ring and then tried to blow a second ring through the first. He almost succeeded. 'Could you do me a favour?' he asked.
'What?' she said.
It was typical of her, thought Carver. Most people would have said 'sure' before knowing what favour was being asked, out of politeness if nothing else. 'Don't tell anyone that I'm with the DEA.'
'Why not?'
'Because we're not always on the best of terms with the military, that's why not.'
'You mean, you can't trust them?'
'This is Thailand, Miss Tsang. You can't trust anybody.'
Chau-ling raised an eyebrow. 'Why Mr Carver, are you including yourself in that generalisation?'
Carver didn't reply. He didn't enjoy crossing swords with Tsang Chau-ling. She always seemed to draw blood.
'Don't worry, your secret's safe with me,' she said. 'And I think it's about time we were on first-name terms, don't you?'
'I'm not sure,' said Carver. He smiled and tried another smoke ring.
Lim spoke in Cantonese, and stepped backwards into the tent.
'Somebody's coming,' said Chau-ling, standing up.
A stocky Thai in a colonel's uniform appeared at the entrance to the tent. He had close-cropped, jet-black hair and a broad jaw with skin as smooth as a child's. He smiled and offered his hand to Chau-ling, Western style, and when she held out hers he took it and kissed it softly. 'Enchanted to meet you, Miss Tsang,' he said. His accent was vaguely French. 'I am Colonel Suphat. I have been told to offer you every assistance.'
Chau-ling introduced the Colonel to Carver and Lim, using only their first names. The Colonel didn't ask why they were involved,
much to Carver's relief. He was in enough trouble already without having to lie to the Thai military.
'Please sit down,' said the Colonel, motioning them to the camp stools. He went over to the filing cabinet. 'Can I offer you a drink?'
Carver was about to refuse when Chau-ling accepted the offer. The DEA agent figured that she was only being tactful so he nodded. The Colonel poured large measures of whisky and handed them to his three visitors, neat. He toasted them and drained his glass. Carver looked across at Chau-ling. Without flinching, she drank her whisky to the last drop. Lim did the same. Carver shrugged, and followed suit.
'Now, you have no idea where the attempt will be made to cross the border?' asked the Colonel. He spoke directly to Chau-ling, as if the men were of no interest to him at all.
'We know they will be passing through Fang,' said Chauling.
The Colonel nodded. 'We will be watching the roads from Fang, but there are many. We think our best chance of catching them is at the river. We have increased our patrols, and we have men posted at regular intervals along the bank.'
'Colonel Suphat, your men won't shoot, will they?' asked Chau-ling anxiously.
'It has been made clear to me that they must be captured alive,' said the Colonel.
'Not just alive,' Chau-ling said quickly. 'Warren mustn't be hurt.'
'I understand,' said the Colonel. 'But they will be held in custody. They will have committed an offence by trying to cross the border illegally.' He collected their empty glasses. 'Now, can I suggest you make yourselves as comfortable as possible? I shall keep you informed of developments.'
Chau-ling thanked him, and the Colonel turned on his heels and left the tent.
Carver turned to Chau-ling. 'I don't believe this,' he said. 'You've got the Thai army eating out of your hand. I wouldn't get this kind of co-operation in a million years.'
'You don't have my father,' said Chauling.
For the first time, Carver realised that she almost certainly THE SOLITARY MAN 357 did know what her father was and what he did. But she did have a point. Without her father's influence, they didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of preventing Hutch from committing suicide.
HUTCH LEANED OVER THE sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was ingrained with dirt and his hair was lank and greasy. He'd lost weight, too. There was a set of scales in the corner of the bathroom and he stood on them and peered down at the dial. He was a full stone lighter than when he'd left Hong Kong. He stripped off his sweatshirt and jeans and washed himself with a wet towel, taking care not to get water on the sticking plaster. Carver had said that the transmitter was sealed and water wouldn't harm it, but Hutch wasn't sure how well the plaster would stick to his skin if it got wet. There was a sudden knock on the bathroom door and Hutch jumped.
'Hutch, the guide's here,' said Winter. 'Time to go.'
'Give me a minute,' said Hutch. He dried himself and swilled his mouth out with water from the tap, then stood for a few seconds looking at the sticking plaster and the bulge where the beacon was. There was another knock at the door.
'Come on, Hutch. There are people waiting for us on the other side.'
Hutch pulled on his clothes, checked himself in the mirror again and went out to join the others. The guide was a Thai in his late twenties, light skinned with narrow shoulders and a girl's waist. He was wearing a faded grey T-shirt and blue jeans and he kept looking at his watch as if they were already late. Winter had dumped his linen suit in a wastebin and changed into a green long-sleeved shirt with epaulettes, and brown corduroy trousers.
'Have you got stomach problems?' Winter asked Hutch.
'No, why?'
'You were in there a long time.'
Hutch shrugged. 'Yeah, well, I'm here now. What's the plan?'
'Back in the truck and up to the river. Nung here will take us across and into the Triangle. Then we're home free. Okay, let's hit the road.'
They went downstairs to the truck. Winter, Hutch and Harrigan got into the back while Bird woke up the driver. The boxes were stacked around the three men again and they settled down on the pillows.
The drive up to the river took the best part of an hour, most of the journey involving abrupt changes of direction and gear grinding. Several mosquitoes had joined them in the back of the truck and Hutch had acquired two bites on his neck by the time they juddered to a halt.
Hutch, Winter and Harrigan helped push the boxes out of the truck and then stood at the roadside.
'No problems?' Winter asked Bird.
'No, but we took a bit of a detour because Nung reckoned there were roadblocks.'
'Is that normal?'
'They were probably just looking for bribes. They don't get paid for a couple of weeks.' Nung spoke to Bird in Thai and Bird nodded. 'Okay, the boat's already here. We should go.'
Nung led the way, taking them along the edge of a rice field to a line of palm trees. They disturbed a large grey water buffalo and it grunted a warning for them not to get too close. Harrigan slipped off the path and into the water.
'For fuck's sake, Ray, watch where you're going,' said Winter as Hutch helped pull Harrigan out.
'Come on,' hissed Bird.
The ground began to slope down and the field gave way to shrubs and bushes. Hutch heard the river before he saw it, its fast-flowing waters lapping against the muddy banks. Nung waved for them to stop. The water glinted in the moonlight, rippling and twisting like a million serpents. Hutch found it impossible to judge how wide the river was; the far side merged into the landscape so perfectly that there was no way of knowing where the water ended and the land began.
'That's Burma over there?' Hutch asked Winter.
'Myanmar,' said Winter. 'It's called Myanmar now.'
Nung disappeared down to the water's edge.
'You've crossed here before?'
'Twice. Don't worry, Hutch. This guy knows what he's doing. He goes back and forth every other day. Most of his family still live over there. The border means nothing to these people.'
Nung reappeared and started whispering to Bird. Bird shook his head. He waved Winter over. Hutch and Harrigan went with him. 'We might have a problem,' said Bird. 'The boatman says there have been several army patrols by here tonight, and there are army boats on the river.'
'That's unusual?' asked Winter.
'This much activity is, he says. Is it possible they know that we're going to cross?'
'I don't see how,' said Winter.
'Well, the boatman reckons it's too risky to go tonight. He says we should wait.'
'Fuck that. Who died and left him in charge?' Winter spat. 'Tell him to do as he's fucking told.'
Bird flinched at the intensity of Winter's outburst. 'It's you he's worried about, not himself.'
Winter calmed down. 'Okay, okay. Sorry. Look, offer him a few thousand baht, whatever it takes. But we go tonight. We're expected over on the other side.'
Bird and Nung went down to the water again. 'You handled that well, Billy,' said Hutch. 'A master of tact and diplomacy.'
'Ha bloody ha. Come on, let's go.'
Winter, Hutch and Harrigan went carefully down the bank. The wet clay was slippery and they moved slowly. 'There they are,' said Winter, pointing.
Ahead of them Hutch could make out a small wooden jetty sticking some twenty feet out into the river. At the end of the jetty stood Bird and Nung, talking to a man at the rear of a long, thin boat. There were eight planking seats along the length of the vessel, each big enough for two people. The boat was barely two feet above the waterline, with a large diesel engine fixed to the back. Connected to the engine was a long prop, raised out of the water, with a small propeller at the end. Hutch had seen similar boats operating along the river in Bangkok. The propeller could 360 STEPHEN LEATHER be dipped in and out of the water by the boatman, giving them a high degree of mobility and allowing them to speed through shallow water if necessary.
As they approached, Bird took out his wallet and gave the boatman a handful of banknotes, then turned and gave Winter a thumbs-up.
'Typical Thailand,' said Winter. 'There isn't a problem that money can't solve.'
'Maybe he's got a point,' said Hutch. 'Maybe we should wait.'
'Don't you start,' said Winter. He patted Hutch on the back, 'Trust me, old lad. We'll be a hell of a lot safer over there.'
They walked along the bank to the pier. Nung and Bird helped them down into the boat one by one. The boatman steadied them as they took their places. He was in his sixties with leathery skin and gnarled hands and a baseball cap pulled down low on his head. Harrigan and Winter sat together in the middle of the boat, and Hutch took the seat directly behind them. Bird took his place at the back. The boatman started the engine and revved it. Grey smoke belched out of the exhaust.
Nung untied the boat and scrambled to the front as the boatman lowered the propeller into the water and they surged forward. The engine roared as they picked up speed. Spray blew up across Hutch's face and the wind whipped through his hair. The sound of the engine was deafening and Hutch was sure it would be heard for miles. He tapped Winter on the shoulder. 'Isn't this a bit noisy?' he shouted.
'Ten minutes, max,' said Winter. 'There are plenty of these long-tailed boats on the river, even at night. Just settle back and enjoy the ride.'
Flecks of water blurred Hutch's vision and he took off his glasses and wiped them with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He put them back on and looked at the receding shoreline. Three figures were standing watching them. One of them was pointing, another was holding something up to his face. Hutch realised with a jolt that they were soldiers. He grabbed Winter's shoulder and shook it.
'Billy, we've been spotted!' he yelled.
Winter looked across at the three soldiers. 'Shit,' he said. He THE SOLITARY MAN 361 twisted around in his seat to check that the boatman had seen them, but the old man had already wound the engine up to its maximum. 'Keep down!' Winter shouted. They all ducked, but to Hutch's surprise there were no shots. He looked over his shoulder again. The soldiers hadn't moved, though they had been joined by two more men. The boat bucked and tossed as it cut across the troughs of the river, then it settled into a steady rhythm again as it powered through the water.
'They're probably not after us,' said Winter. 'It's drugs coming over from the other side that they're worried about. Trust me.'
Hutch didn't reply. He was sure it wasn't a coincidence that the army patrol had been on the spot.
When they were about halfway across the river, the boatman turned on to a course parallel to the banks. Nung was kneeling at the prow, peering forward. Occasionally he would wave his left or right hand, indicating that there were obstacles in the water ahead, usually drifting branches, and the boatman would make swift corrections with his prop. Ahead of them the river bent around to the right and the boatman took them closer to the Burmese shore. The vegetation seemed more dense on the Burmese side, with trees and bushes almost right up to the water's edge.
Suddenly Nung began to wave frantically. Hutch peered around Winter's shoulder to see what was wrong. He and Winter saw the launch at the same time and they cursed in unison. It was painted grey, about a hundred feet long with a large naval gun mounted at the front. The red, white and blue Thai flag flew from atop the superstructure and in front of it was a massive searchlight, the beam of which swept across the water towards them. The boatman took immediate evasive action, steering hard towards port, away from the Burmese bank. Hutch's stomach lurched and he gripped the side of the boat. Bird reached into his jacket and drew his gun but Winter slapped him on the arm.
'Don't be stupid!' Winter shouted. 'You'd be wasting your bullets.'
The searchlight beam caught them and the boatman turned again but whoever was operating the searchlight knew what they were doing and the boat remained fixed in its brilliant glare. Thai commands were shouted at them through a loudspeaker, like the 362 STEPHEN LEATHER voice of some vengeful god, so loud that Hutch could feel the vibrations against his skin.
'What are they saying?' asked Harrigan, his voice trembling.
'They're wishing us a pleasant voyage, you stupid bastard!' screamed Winter. 'What the fuck do you think they're saying?' Winter gripped Bird's arm. 'Tell the boatman not to stop. Whatever he does, he's not to stop.'
Bird translated Winter's orders and the boatman nodded stiffly.
'Can we outrun them?' Hutch yelled.
'Not for long,' replied Winter. 'Besides, look at the size of that gun.'
The long-tailed boat veered back to starboard. For a moment they escaped the searchlight but it quickly caught up with them, its glare blinding Hutch. He put a hand across his face to protect his eyes. The boat swerved yet again, skidding sideways across the water before the propeller bit and pushed them forward. Hutch slipped off his seat and fell backwards, banging his head. Winter reached back and helped him up.
More Thai commands were shouted at them through the loudspeaker. The boat was heading directly towards the Burmese shore, cutting across the flow of the river. They were still several hundred yards from the shore, and the army launch was rapidly gaining on them.
Nung had given up navigating and was lying face down in the prow. The boatman stood up so that he could get a better view of the water in front of them, gripping the handle of the prop with both hands.