‘It’s a trick,’ said Simon, wide-eyed. ‘Bongo’s a con man, you know who he -’
‘Do not tell me what I know,’ said Haryono. ‘Tell me what I don’t know, like where is my forty million dollars?’
‘It’s there!’ screamed Simon, pointing at the laptop. ‘It was there this morning – I checked because the first bonus was going to be paid tomorrow.’
‘Look for yourself,’ gestured Haryono.
Taking the laptop from Bongo, Simon sat and scrolled up and down frenetically, his face dropping as his eyes confirmed Haryono’s anger.
‘I can’t… it’s not possible,’ he said, then looked at Bongo. ‘What did you do with it?’ he yelled, going for Bongo’s throat.
Slapping Simon to the floor, Bongo looked at Haryono and shrugged.
Waving the handgun, Haryono fixed Bongo with a homicidal stare. ‘So, Morales – what do you know about this problem?’
‘Not much, Ishy,’ said Bongo, smoother than honey pouring out of a jar. ‘Just got a call from Joao about an hour ago.’
‘Joao?’ said Haryono, his face darkening. ‘Yeah, he’d just been told about a very large, very recent deposit in the bank,’ said Bongo. ‘He thought I might see the funny side of it.’
‘Joao?!’ yelled Simon. ‘Who the fuck is Joao?! ’
‘Silence!’ barked Amir Sudarto, training his gun on the American scientist.
The room fell quiet, except for the sounds of Simon whimpering on the carpet. Haryono stood over him and looked at his SIG. ‘It’s one thing for a man to get greedy, steal something for himself, for his family,’ said Haryono.
‘You can’t -’ said Simon.
‘But when a man steals from me and then adds the insult, then it is time for the hard hand, right?’ said Haryono, almost whispering.
‘He did it!’ cried Simon, pointing at Bongo.
‘How would Bongo get bank codes for the North Korean Department of Defense bank?’ asked Haryono, pointing the SIG at Simon. ‘Unless you gave them to him? Bongo pretends to be homosexual at the Lar, he drug passenger in first class and then search their bags. Bongo not the computer thief, Mr Simon. That you.’
‘It’s them,’ spluttered Simon, sweeping his arm at Mac, Tommy and Jim. ‘They’re spies, they set this up!’
‘Really?’ asked Haryono.
‘Yes – they traced Lee Wa Dae through the Koryo Bank.’
‘You know how I know you the liar?’ asked Haryono, his face impassive.
‘No, I -’
‘Look at where the money gone!’
‘To the Sentosa Pacific Bank in Singapore,’ said Simon, having seen the transfer. ‘It’s one of McQueen’s accounts!’
‘Really?’ asked Haryono. ‘So the spies steal forty million dollars from me, and then they travel all the way here, into army compound in East Timor – four against two hundred – to say hello to me?’
‘Well…’ said Simon.
‘But it the insult,’ said Haryono, doing a big Javanese shrug. ‘You had to send my money to these people?’
‘What people?’ asked Simon, confused.
‘Look at the account,’ instructed Haryono, grabbing Simon by the hair and forcing his face at the screen.
‘It’s… I… I don’t know any Santa Cruz Trust,’ said Simon, looking at the details on the screen, tears streaming down his face. ‘What is -’
‘Santa Cruz Trust Number Three,’ snarled Haryono, cocking the SIG with his thumb. ‘Think – what communist organisation in Tim-Tim would name their bank accounts after the Santa Cruz cemetery?’
Simon wiped his tears and looked up at Haryono. ‘Look, Ish, I -’
‘Which organisation?!’ screamed Haryono.
‘Falinitil?’ asked Simon quietly.
‘Correct,’ said Haryono, shooting the American in the face. ‘And do not call me Ish.’
CHAPTER 66
The pre-dawn birdsong started and Mac felt Jessica snoring on his chest. The first grey light snuck in through the barred window at the top of the cell wall, illuminating Bongo, who was pacing beside the door, mumbling.
‘What’s up?’ whispered Mac, as Bongo raised his hand for silence.
Bongo’s mumbled conversations had started up each time they’d heard footfalls in the stockade outside their cell door. The base stockade was staffed by soldiers of the 1635 Regiment, and Bongo was conversing with them in Tetum, the native dialect of East Timor.
‘He says one of the white people will be found in a helicopter, after the spraying,’ said Bongo. ‘The others will be found in the rubble of the base – they’re dynamiting the whole place.’
Their first plan had been to turn Haryono against Simon, which had worked too well. Simon was dead, and the rest of them – with Jessica along for the ride – now looked like being the fall guys for Operasi Boa. The Indonesian Army would find their bodies, connect them with the SARS deaths and the helicopters, and the story would hit the newspapers. Mac already knew what part he’d play – he was connected with Shareholder Services under his Don Jeffries alias, and he had no doubt he’d be ‘found’ in a downed helo belonging to Pik Berger’s company, filled with the SARS bio-weapon. He’d be just another greedy Aussie mercenary, and the papers would love it.
‘These local soldiers don’t care what’s being sprayed on their own families?’ asked Jim, annoyed.
‘I didn’t say that,’ said Bongo, sliding down the concrete wall to take a seat on the floor. ‘They don’t understand what I’m talking about. Spraying a disease onto a village is something they don’t comprehend – they think it’s a joke.’
Stirring, Jessica pushed herself off Mac’s chest and yawned. She was filthy, her face drawn, eyes puffy from fatigue and from crying; she’d been overwhelmed by Simon’s shooting.
‘Where are we?’ she asked.
‘Jail,’ said Mac. ‘But I have to ask – where were you?’
‘Would you believe Kota Baru barracks?’ she said sheepishly.
‘Kota Baru?!’ said Mac. ‘That’s in East Timor. Are you crazy? I thought you were heading back to California?’
‘I was, but a very nice woman at Larrakeyah Army Base told me that Dad was seen at Kota Baru,’ said Jessica, looking pointedly at Mac and then Bongo.
‘Really?’ asked Mac, thinking that Gillian Baddely should keep her scheming female mind to herself.
‘Yeah, so I decided to go up there and see if I could make a deal and they arrested me,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Next thing I know, I’m taken to an airfield and this crazy American is telling me what a genius he is.’
‘Jesus,’ said Mac. ‘You drove up to the Kota Baru barracks to cut a deal with Kopassus?’
‘Don’t mess with me, buster!’ said Jessica, sitting up. ‘What was that finely tuned operation in the mess? And by the way, I guess I’m now calling you McQueen? And Manny – you’re Bongo, right?
‘Sure,’ said Bongo. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah, I’ll live,’ she said. ‘This happened before, in Guatemala.’
‘Guatemala?’ asked Mac, surprised.
‘I was doing charity work through BruinCorps, building schools and stuff, and I got caught by the local Marxists,’ said Jessica, matter-of-fact.
‘And?’ asked Mac.
‘We talked about their grievances and they let me go,’ she said.
