第 23 页

me that I was in great danger. And that the danger was represented in the form of a woman."

"That's all?"

"Yes. I suppose it's nothing. But the man had a strange influence on me. I'm not religious or

superstitious, but somehow he had a presence, and an air of deep understanding."

"Is that why you want to call in the Americans?" Guido asked.

Creasy shook his head. "No, that's not the reason. This well-laid trail is going to end at that

temple. It lies four kilometres to the south-east of a village called Tuk Luy, which is the

headquarters of the largest concentration of Khmer Rouge troops in Western Cambodia.

There's no way that I can simply drive over there and take a look. I need help to get in and

before that, I need good intelligence of what's happening in the area." He glanced at Susanna.

"Since it's possible that there are American MIAs there, I take it that assistance will be

forthcoming?"

"Of course. I'll phone Colonel Friedman and he'll set things in motion. I'd better do that from

my Embassy on a secure line. What will you need?"

Creasy sighed and answered: "I have no idea yet. But the first thing is to get information on the

whole area south-east of Battambang and particularly the Cardamom mountains. I'll need

detailed maps and, if possible, satellite surveys. I'm sure the CIA will have them. I'll also need to

know the level of Khmer Rouge concentrations and, if possible, the names of local

commanders. I don't want to have to go through any Cambodian officials. That's too risky

because many of them still have secret ties with the Khmer Rouge."

Susanna glanced at her watch and made a calculation. She said: "It's eight o'clock in the evening

in Washington. Elliot will be home. I'll call him there. I'll get the address of the American

Embassy and then take a taxi."

Jens was sitting at his computer. He punched at the keys and then read from the screen: "The

address is 27 EO Street 240. The ambassador is called Henry Gates and the CIA resident is

probably a senior military attache whose name is William B. Garner. Aged forty-two, married

with two children, and plays a lot of tennis."

"I'm impressed," she said. "How do you get this stuff?"

He just gave her an enigmatic smile and answered: "That's my job." He looked at Creasy and

said: "I'm wondering if Colonel Friedman has enough seniority to pull the right strings."

Susanna answered that query. "Yes, he does. And if he runs into any problems, he'll make a call

to Senator Grainger, who can pull just about any string in America."

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. The Owl opened it and came back with an

envelope.

"It's from reception," he said, "and addressed to you."

She opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a typed message which read: I have

information of interest to you. I will send it to the hotel on Thursday afternoon. It is important

that your associates do nothing in the meantime.

It was unsigned. She passed it to Creasy who read it and then showed it to Jens, Guido and The

Owl.

"Let me see the envelope," Creasy said.

She passed it to him. It was addressed to Captain Susanna Moore, US Army, MIA Department,

care of Cambodiana Hotel, Bungalow 4.

Creasy looked at the envelope for a long time as though it was conveying information, then

passed it to Jens. The Dane took the magnifying glass from his briefcase and carefully studied

both the envelope and the letter. Then he stated: "It was printed on a modern laser printer with

high resolution."

From behind him The Owl said: "There was one in the office of the Lucit Trade Company. A

Japanese OKI."

Creasy took the sheet of paper back and said: "It's another piece of the paper trail...but why do

they want us to wait until Thursday?"

Nobody had an answer. Creasy said to Susanna: "Make your call to your boss anyway." He

turned to Jens. "In the meantime, I want you and The Owl to get to Hong Kong as soon as

possible and start looking into the background of Bill Crum's last years. It would be good to

know something before Thursday afternoon."

Susanna picked up the photographs and put them into the folder along with her translation of

the correspondence, and then said: "I should be back in about an hour. If Jens needs a secure link

from Hong Kong, I could arrange that through our Consulate there to our embassy here."

"It could be useful," Creasy agreed. He was still looking at the printed message. "Maybe they're

stalling," he said. "Maybe we're moving too fast for them."

Chapter 46

Moira Friedman had made a beef casserole with fresh spring vegetables. Following a

long-established ritual, she carried the pot to the table and lifted the top. Elliot leaned forward,

inhaled the aroma and spoke the often-repeated words: "You are beautiful, creative and the light

of my life."

He was about to ladle himself a large portion when the phone rang. In exasperation, he rolled

his eyes at his wife and said: "Whoever it is, I'll get them to call me back."

It was not to be. She heard him say: "Hi, Susanna. Where are you?" Then he listened intently for

a couple of minutes and reached for a pad and pencil. He made some notes and said: "Wire me

the photographs, all of them, including your transcripts."

Moira Friedman could hear the excitement in his voice. He said: "I'll be at the office in twenty

minutes. And I'll have State communicate with our Ambassador with orders to cooperate with

you in every way. I'll arrange for them to set up a mobile SAT phone for you so you don't have

to go to the Embassy too often."

He listened again and then said: "I don't think I'll need

Grainger, not with those photographs. It's the first break we've had in years. But I'll keep

Grainger informed anyway. Maybe I'll send someone out there as back-up for you." He listened

again, then nodded and answered: "OK, I'll hold my fire until Thursday night your time. Just

wait there at the Embassy and I'll call you back when I've talked to the guys at State. By the way,

your friend, Professor Woodward, has been calling the office two or three times a day trying to

get hold of you. He seems agitated...OK, I'll tell him you'll be in touch in due course. Be careful

out there. It's a dangerous place." He listened again and then chuckled. "Yes, I guess you are.

OK, wait for my return call."

He cradled the phone and returned to his wife. "That was Susanna Moore calling from Phnom

Penh. She's there with a bunch of mercenaries and she's got photographs of what may be three

MIAs being held captive by the Khmer Rouge. One she's certain about. I have to check the

dogtag numbers of the other two." He made a forlorn gesture at the casserole dish. "Sorry,

honey. You'll have to keep that warm. I'm going to be late at the office."

She was not upset. She knew the frustrations of his work and she could see the excitement in his

eyes. She walked over, kissed him and said: "On your way, Elliot. Call me if you have a chance."

Chapter 47

Ambassador Gates was not a happy man. He was a career officer, and quite reasonably liked to

do things by the book. He sat in his office with the Stars and Stripes hanging behind him and a

photograph of the President on the wall. He said: "Captain Moore, I understand the importance

of anything relating to our MIAs and I'm ready to help you in any way I can. I just had the

Assistant Secretary of State on the phone telling me to do just that. But can't you tell me anything

more? It's all so vague. There may be some Americans held by the Khmer Rouge and you're

mounting some kind of an operation to find out and, if possible, to rescue them. Is that all you

can say?"

Susanna answered: "I'm sorry, Mr Ambassador. It's all I can tell you at this stage. I'm working

undercover with some very unofficial people who demand the utmost security and secrecy."

"The CIA?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Hardly that. I can tell you that we have a strong lead and that

the people I'm working with are very competent."

"Are they Americans?"

She shook her head. "I think that one was once, but it's an international group. And I must ask

you not to probe any further. I hope I can give you more information by the end of the week. In

the meantime, I understand that you can issue me with a mobile satellite phone and fax. Over the

coming days I may request that certain necessary items be brought in to Phnom Penh by the

diplomatic pouch."

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet, but they could include weapons and communications equipment."

"Weapons!"

"Yes, Mr Ambassador. My colleagues may have to go into Khmer Rouge territory and it would

be rather stupid to walk in with a white flag."

He was a tall, thin man with an austere face. But a lifetime of diplomacy had not broken his

sense of humour. He gave her a smile and stood up, saying: "We're at your disposal, Captain. I

take it that I won't have to smuggle in a detachment of Abrams tanks or a battery of Cruise

missiles?"

She also stood up, returning his smile. "No, sir. It would be small arms and ammunition and

perhaps secure radio transmitters and receivers. I'm sorry I can't tell you more at this moment.

But I can tell you that events have been developing rapidly and seem likely to continue doing

so."

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

"At the Cambodiana Hotel. But my colleagues and my superiors would be very upset if the

Embassy were to arrange any kind of surveillance. And I can assure you, Mr Ambassador, that if

that happens, my colleagues would very quickly be aware of it."

"It won't happen," he answered. "But understand one thing, Captain. I represent our

government in this country and I would prefer not to have any nasty surprises." He pressed a

button on a console on his desk and a moment later a young man knocked on the door and

entered. The Ambassador said to him: "Mark, please issue Captain Moore with the

communications equipment she needs and instruct her how to use it."

He held out his hand and Susanna shook it. "Thank you, Mr Ambassador."

"You're welcome, Captain...Be careful. We don't want any more MIAs."

Chapter 48

They stood at the bottom of the gently sloping hill looking up at the outline of the temple.

Connie Crum was in the centre. The Dutchman was on her left and Van Luk Wan on her right.

The Dutchman pointed to the bright red line of string that zigzagged up the hill to the entrance

of the temple wall.

"That string is laid exactly in the centre of the mine-free pathway, which is one metre wide. It

changes direction three times. You'll have to learn to take bearings which I'll point out. That

means you take a bearing on an object nearby and line it up with a tree or a mountain peak in the

distance. There'll be three such bearings, and only the people who know them will be able to get

in and out of the temple compound." He pointed to the members of his team, who were about

fifty metres from the temple wall. "The minefield will be completed by nightfall tomorrow. So in

the afternoon I'll show you the bearings and then we take away the string."

Connie Crum patted him encouragingly on his shoulder. She said: "You've done well, Piet. I

assume that all of your team know the bearings."

"Of course."

She turned to Van and said: "I want every member of the team to be given a bonus of two

hundred US dollars tomorrow night."

"On their behalf, I thank you," the Dutchman said. "For them it's a fortune."

She smiled cynically. "And they'll spend it on drink and women. That's the circle of their lives. I

won't keep you any longer, Piet. Van and I will return tomorrow, at five in the afternoon. Again,

well done!"

The Dutchman walked up the hill, very carefully following the line of the red string. Connie

watched him in silence and then said: "Tomorrow, when the last mine is laid and those men have

come out, I want them all shot."

The Vietnamese showed no surprise. He said: "Before or after I give them the two hundred

dollars each?"

She laughed. "Before, of course. And the Dutchman we put into handcuffs and leg irons. His

work will be finished tomorrow, and I haven't decided what to do with him."

Piet de Witt reached the interior perimeter of the growing minefield and stood behind his team,

watching them work. He had trained them well; but of course some were better and quicker than

others. His best man could lay and set a mine every three minutes. He turned and measured the

approximate distance to the compound wall. It was about forty metres. He did a quick

calculation in his mind and then relaxed. The minefield would be ready. They would not even

have to work under floodlights tonight. That was dangerous work, and he was glad they didn't

have to do it. In the evening he would drive into Tuk Luy and buy some fresh fish in the market

and then take it to Tan Sotho.

They would make love and afterwards she would cook the fish with saffron and rice in the way

he liked so much. And he would teach the young boy a little more English. It had become a

routine two or three times a week, the love-making, the food and the hour-long lesson. The boy

was only three years old, but he was bright and a quick learner. The Dutchman laughed inwardly

at the thought of himself being a teacher. Who would believe that?

Chapter 49

Jens and The Owl shared a large room at the New World Hotel looking out over the harbour.