Plausible Denial (10 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

T
he
knock on the door of room 1048 came at exactly nine o’clock. Mac greeted Charly
at the door and quickly ushered her into the room. After glancing up and down
the hall to make sure no one observed her entering the room, he shut the door
and bolted it. When he turned to face her, he caught the hard slap on the side
of his face.

“You
bastard!”

He
stood rubbing the sting out of his cheek with his left hand and holding his
right up in front of him as if to say she had made her point. When it was clear
there would be no follow-up strikes, he reached out to her. She slipped into
his arms and they hugged tightly for a long time, rocking back and forth
without saying a word.

They
had first met almost ten years earlier. She had just finished her training at
the top of her class at The Farm and had been assigned to Bangkok Station as a
junior case officer.

He
was visiting Bangkok on temporary duty to attend a narcotics conference. She
followed him back to his hotel after a dinner party at the home of the Bangkok
station chief, and that was the start of an on-again, off-again affair that
lasted until Mac rotated out of Hong Kong and dropped completely off of her
radar screen. He made no attempt to contact her after that.

Charly
Blackburn was known as a “comer” in the Agency. Although her initial interest
in Thailand was due mostly to her heritage, she honed that interest by majoring
in Far Eastern History, earning a masters degree in the subject in her home
state at the University of Oklahoma.

Her
thesis on the history of the drug trade emanating from the Golden Triangle was
widely published and received kudos from the academic community. The thesis was
also the deciding factor in her selection into the elite clandestine service of
the CIA, and in her subsequent posting to Thailand.

But
it wasn’t just her academic achievements that helped to advance her budding
career in the CIA’s clandestine service. She was blessed with native fluency in
the Thai language and oriental good looks which allowed her to move gracefully
throughout the Thai community as well as on the diplomatic scene.

And
she never missed an opportunity to use these God-given feminine charms to advance
her career. Ever since that night after the senior prom in Midwest City ,
Oklahoma, when she finally agreed to give Bobby Jack Spencer her virginity in
the parking lot behind the Baptist church, she knew how to manipulate and
control men. And she thoroughly enjoyed that power.

She
learned to use that newfound power over men to advance her career in the
insular community of the CIA. Indeed, the CIA management encouraged its
officers to link up with one another. Better to sleep with the good guys than
the bad guys. This was the philosophy. Keeping affairs in-house kept things
more secure. 

So
she slept her way through the ranks of the CIA’s East Asia Division management
and picked up a number of influential supporters along the way. Her targeting
of MacMurphy was one such effort, but she ended up falling for the guy. Not
what she had planned at all.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

S
eeing
her again brought back emotions and memories that Mac had long buried. She was
as beautiful as ever, despite the black eye and angry red scar closed with a
butterfly bandage on her forehead, wounds she received when slammed against the
wall during the explosion

The
feel of her in his arms again aroused him. His hands began to explore first her
hips and then further down. He kissed away her tears and she raised her face to
meet his. They kissed deeply and longingly.

Memories
of past trysts flooded their minds, and their hips pressed together hotly.

His
cell phone rang, interrupting the moment.

They
broke apart and he answered. “Hey… Okay…You’re certain?  Okay… Good
idea…Okay, but make it look like a robbery if it comes to that. Don’t do
anything that that will bring attention back to us. ... Right… Okay… Stay there
and keep an eye on him. We’ll be about an hour… Right, I’ll call when she
leaves… Okay, bye.”

Charly
was still breathing heavily, regarding him with misty, lustful eyes. “What’s
wrong? What was that all about?”

“You
were followed.”

“Impossible!”

“No,
it’s pretty clear. He came in right after you, but you had already disappeared
into an elevator. He knows you’re in the hotel. Santos is keeping an eye on him
in the lobby.”

“They
must have picked me up on the outskirts of Chiang Rai. There’s no way anyone
could have followed me from Chiang Mai to here. I had the pedal to the metal
all the way.”

“That’s
it. They probably lost you on the highway and called ahead. There’s only one
road between Chiang Mai and here. Where’d you park?”

“In
a garage about three blocks from here.”

MacMurphy
turned away from her and walked to the other end of the room where a bottle of
Pino Grigio was chilling in an ice bucket on a coffee table sitting between two
chairs. He busied himself opening the wine. “Sit down and let’s think for a
moment.” He poured two glasses of wine and sat beside her.

“There’s
only one way out of here, and that’s back through the lobby.” He was thinking
out loud and his mood was all case officer now. “So, let’s figure this out.
They know you’re meeting someone here. They just don’t know who. They may also
have someone else staking out your car in the lot. But then again, they’ve
already gotten as much as they’ll get out of this surveillance. They probably
suspect you’re having an important meeting here, otherwise you wouldn’t have
attempted to lose the surveillance, but they have no idea who that might be. So
they’ve failed in that regard. The surveillance is already a bust. It’s lucky
you got into that elevator so quickly.”

She
took a long drink of her wine, sat back and crossed her legs. “I guess I blew
it. Sorry Mac.”

“Happens
to everyone at some time or another. Let’s just deal with it. My main concern
is maintaining the integrity of the operation, and our connection with you is
our weakest link. We’ve just got to get you out of here safely and make sure
they don’t find out who you were meeting here.”

She
held out her glass and gave him a sorrowful look. He refilled their glasses and
continued. “Actually, when you think about it, there’s no need for them to
surveil you any longer. They know you’ll be leaving here and going back home to
Chiang Mai sooner or later. They know you’re meeting someone but don’t know
who. It could be anything, a clandestine meeting with an asset or just a simple
tryst. I just don’t want them to do anything stupid to you. These guys play for
keeps.”

She
lowered her head and looked up at him with her most sultry look. “Can we make
it later rather than sooner?”

He
reached over and caressed her cheek pushing her silky black hair away from her
face. “Not tonight, Charly. You’ve got to get out of here as soon as possible.
Culler is downstairs watching your surveillant, and he’ll make sure you get
back on the road safely. And you’re armed, right?”

“Got
my trusty PPK right here.” She tapped her shoulder bag. “And this little ‘ole
Oklahoma gal definitely knows how to use it.”

“I
know you do. Just keep it close when you leave here. In your hand would be
good.”

“I’m
just happy you’re so concerned about my safety. I hope that’s a personal
concern and not just a professional one.”

He
smiled, looked her over from head to foot, and took a slow drink from his wine
glass. “You’re a piece of work Charly. A real piece of work. Now let’s get down
to business. We’ve got a lot to cover in a very short time.” 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

M
ac
pulled a pen and yellow pad out of a briefcase next to his chair. “As you know,
without going into any great detail, we’re here to neutralize Khun Ut and bust
up his heroin network. How we go about doing that depends greatly on the
assistance we can count on from you.”

She
leaned forward, all business now. “I handle an asset I recruited nine months
ago. We use him to track Khun Ut’s heroin shipments from his jungle refineries
to his main warehouse north of here in Mae Chan.

“Yes,
Ed told me. Do you know the exact location of the warehouse?”

“Sure
do. My guy has been there many times. I have the exact coordinates. But it’s
heavily guarded, and those guys are a trigger happy bunch of thugs.”

“But
it’s the logical place to start, the warehouse I mean, don’t you agree?”

“Depends
on what you want to do.”

“We
want to get into one of Khun Ut’s shipments of heroin. All we need is a few
minutes. The warehouse where the heroin is stored would be the best place,
right?”

“Well,
that’s where the heroin is stored, lots of it, and tons of marijuana all
stacked up in neat bales.” She took another long drink from her wine glass,
re-crossed her legs, and continued.

“The
opium is harvested in the mountain villages and then brought to movable
refineries in the jungle and in the highlands where they turn it into white,
chalky one-kilogram bricks of low grade heroin.

“The
bricks are then assembled in a small warehouse near Khun Ut’s mansion on the
outskirts of Ban Hin Taek, an Akha village in the highlands where Khun Sa—Khun
Ut’s father, of course—used to have his headquarters.

“From
there the heroin bricks are loaded onto donkeys and sent by caravan down
through the hills on narrow trails through the jungle to Khun Ut’s main
warehouse on the outskirts Mae Chan, a few kilometers north of Chiang Rai. As
you would expect, the warehouse is heavily guarded at all times with the guards
living on the premises. The heroin is trucked, mostly concealed in shipments of
charcoal, to the seaports in southern Thailand. There it’s concealed in
shipments of one thing or another and loaded unto ships bound for Hong Kong for
further, final refinement. Once the refining process is complete it’s smuggled
to the United States and other parts of the world.” 

Mac
said, “We need to get access to it at some point after it has been turned into
the one kilogram bricks but before it’s concealed and loaded onto ships bound
for Hong Kong.”

“What
are you going to do with it when you get your hands on it?” she asked.

“We’re
going to poison it.”

She
smiled admiringly. “You are a treacherous son of a bitch, aren’t you? Whose
idea was that, yours or Edwin Rothmann’s?”

“Ed’s.
That’s why he’s the DDO. The idea came from an operation he was involved in
during the Vietnam War. He got into VC and NVA arms caches clandestinely and
salted the 7.62 ammo boxes with rounds filled with high explosives rather than
gunpowder.”

“I
heard of that op at The Farm. The AK-47s exploded in the enemies’ faces when
one of the explosive rounds was chambered. It was very effective as I recall.”

“Sure
was. Made the VC afraid to use its own weapons and ammo.”

“And
once you kill a few people using Khun Ut’s heroin, the word will get out that
he’s selling bad shit, and people will stop buying it. His distribution network
comes tumbling down, is that about it?”

“That’s
about it. Got a problem with that? The collateral damage, I mean?”

She
shook her head and chuckled. “Not at all. Sounds like a great plan to
me.” 

“So
who’s the treacherous one, you or me?”

“That’s
why I love you, Mac. We’re cut from the same cloth.” She ran her tongue over
her lips.

“Knock
it off Charly. We’ve got serious work to do and I need your help. We can’t risk
any more meetings, not until this is over at least. You’re under Khun Ut’s
microscope; if anyone makes the connection between you and me, all of the DDO’s
‘plausible denial’ will dissolve into mist. This can’t be a CIA op. That’s the
whole point. You understand that, right?”

She
put on her most doleful look and gave him a deep
wai
, with her prayerful
hands touching high on her forehead, and replied with resignation. “I know. I
get it. Don’t worry. Rothmann needs to deny any connection between this
operation and the CIA, and I’m the weakest link in that plan. You can count on
me, Mac. Just tell me what you need and I’ll deliver it.”

“Okay,
now we’re on the same page. Tell me about this asset of yours.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

S
he
collected her thoughts, took another swallow of her wine and proceeded to brief
him.

“He’s
a low level security guy who works for Khun Ut and the Cambodian. He and a team
of armed guards accompany the heroin shipments from Khun Ut’s collection point
in Ban Hin Taek down through the jungle to the main warehouse near Mae Chan.
He’s a Hmong tribesman who fought alongside of General Vang Pao and the CIA’s
Bill Lair in Laos during the Vietnam conflict. He’s a wily old cuss—smart,
tough as nails, and totally loyal to the United States, thanks in large part to
the rapport he had with his case officer, Bill Lair. And this is despite the
fact that the U.S. abandoned the Hmong tribesmen after the war.

“What
a disgrace. Anyway, I met him through his son, a bright graduate student at
Chiang Mai University. The kid serves as a spotter for us among the academic
community in Thailand. Spotting his dad was by far his crowning achievement. It
paid for his education.”

Mac
was taking notes furiously on his yellow pad. “So he’s been to both warehouses
and knows the routes between them.”