Mekong Dawn

  Fred grinned and rummaged through his pockets for a cigar. He had only two left in the packet. ‘I can get the diesels running. Hell, they’re my bread and butter back home. I’ve never handled a boat as big as this, but I’m willing to give it a go. Trouble is I don’t know the waterways. I’d probably wind up putting us on a mud bank.’

  ‘So we need a local to act as pilot. What about one of the catering staff?’ Scott said.

  Fred shook his head. ‘There are only five of them left, and they’re either Vietnamese or Burmese.’ He fumbled in his trouser pocket, pulled out his lighter, flicked it open and applied flame to the cigar.

  Scott looked beyond Fred and into the dining saloon. The surviving catering staff had righted the tables and chairs. A few passengers sat drinking coffee and tea. Soo-Li sat beside Fred’s wife. With Nancy gone, the young girl had attached herself to Collette.

  ‘We may have someone who can help.’ He pushed his way past Fred and into the saloon.

  Soo-Li looked up at him, her eyes big and brown and filled with tears. ‘Miss Nancy?’

  ‘We’re going to get her back. I promise.’ He knelt and took the girl’s hand. ‘Soo-Li, do you know how to find the channel that runs from this mountain to the lake?’

  She wiped at a tear with the back of her hand. ‘Of course. My father and I used it all the time.’

  ‘If Mr Deakin can get this boat moving, do you think you could tell him how to follow the channel?’

  Soo-Li nodded eagerly. ‘We can get out of here. We can go and get Miss Nancy.’

  Scott didn’t have the heart to tell her the Mekong Dawn could never catch up with Malko’s powerful boat. ‘We’ll try, kiddo.’

  Scott let go of her hand and went back out to Ang and Fred. ‘Soo-Li knows the channel. She’ll guide us out.’

  Fred looked sceptical. ‘She’s just a little girl.’

  ‘The girl and her father were wood gatherers in this region.’ Ang quieted his concerns. ‘She worked with him every day. If anyone knows the channel, then she does.’

  ‘It looks like I have my pilot.’ Fred drew on the last of his cigar and flipped the butt into the water. ‘I was thinking. What about the helicopter?’

  Scott threw his head back. ‘What helicopter?’

  Fred’s grin dropped. ‘That’s right. You were, ah, pretty out of it when Ang got here. He flew here in a helicopter.’

  Scott looked at Ang. ‘I thought you came here in a boat. I mean… Hell, I just assumed …’

  ‘No, I flew here in a helicopter. But Ky ambushed us. My men were killed, along with Soo-Li’s father.’

  ‘The helicopter you came in – where is it?’

  Ang pointed across the mountainside towards the south. ‘On an islet over there.’

  ‘Is it damaged?’

  “There was some shooting near it, but no, I don’t think it’s damaged. But Ky killed the pilot. There is no one to fly it.’

  Scott felt his hands begin to shake and willed them to be still. Sweat ran into his eyes and he blinked it away. ‘What type of helicopter?’

  ‘A Bell. I believe it is called a Jetranger.’

  Scott’s gaze flicked from the direction Ang had indicated to where he had last seen the RHIB through the trees. Visions of the ground rushing towards him filled his mind and he shook his head to clear it. ‘I’m a pilot.’ He could hardly believe he was saying the words. ‘I can fly a Jetranger.’

  Ang’s eyes widened in surprise. The policeman looked him up and down and Scott wondered just what kind of man Ang saw. He felt like a wreck. His bare legs were scratched and bleeding from the jungle and the firefight at the ruins. He hadn’t shaved in three days and the stubble on his face itched with sweat. And his damned hands were shaking. He thrust them into his pockets and hoped Ang hadn’t noticed.

  Where is Collette with my bloody medication?

  Ang turned his face away, following Scott’s gaze out to where the channel disappeared into the trees.

  ‘Then maybe we can still catch Malko,’ he said.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Nancy’s hands tingled from the too-tight cable-tie around her wrists. She wriggled her fingers and tried to get some blood flowing. Her bottom ached from the hard deck in the back of the boat and she shifted her weight in an attempt to ease her discomfort.

  She guessed they had been in the boat for an hour or maybe a little more, but she had no way to gauge the time exactly. They were still travelling through the swamps. Ky stood at the console, deftly flicking the wheel left and right as he kept them in the channel, working the throttles for the twin outboards and gunning the engines to full power whenever the way ahead was clear. Close to the motors where Nancy sat the noise was deafening.

  Western, if that was his real name, sat opposite her, his back against the gunwale. He fidgeted nervously, his gaze fixed on the AK74 beside Ky. Nancy thought about the time she had first met the South African when they boarded the Mekong Dawn, the way he’d clutched that laptop case so possessively.

  Diamonds!

  Western was a diamond smuggler. It all made sense now. Malko or Ky had found his diamonds, and Western was trading more diamonds in Siem Reap for his life and his freedom. Nancy wasn’t quite sure where she fitted into Malko’s plans. She had nothing to offer for her life. When they reached Siem Reap she would become a liability. What then? She looked to the length of mahogany, Malko’s pick handle, laying in one of the equipment pockets beneath the gunwale, and tried not to think about ‘what then?’

  Her wriggling fingers brushed against something running along the deck of the boat. Hoping it was something she could use as a weapon, she gripped it, but was disappointed. Whatever it was, it felt round and flexible, like rubber, about as thick as a garden hose. It seemed to pulse with the beat of the engines. As she held it, Ky pulled the throttles back and spun the wheel as they headed into another turn. The pulsing in the hose settled into a dull vibration. When Ky gunned the throttles again the pulsing increased, and she realised she had hold of the fuel line running from the portable tank to the outboards.

  With the life-blood of the engines pumping through her hands a thought occurred to her.

  Stop the engines and I’ll stop the boat!

  As carefully as she could, Nancy felt along the hose in both directions, hoping to find a fuel cock or tap, but her reach was limited and she could only feel about twenty centimetres. There was nothing but the smooth, pulsing hose.

  Her mind working quickly, she gripped the hose in one hand and worked the other hand as far along as she could. The cable-tie bit painfully into her wrist, but she managed to get a good hold and then rolled her fists together, crimping the hose.

  The outboards roared along for another fifteen seconds. Then the one closest to Nancy gave a cough and died into silence. The other motor ran for five more seconds, then it too spluttered and wound down. The bow of the RHIB dropped as the boat slowed. With the roar of the motors gone, Nancy could hear water gushing past the hull, quieting as their speed bled away.

  Malko looked back at the motors and cursed. ‘Get them running.’

  Ky jabbed at the starter for one of the outboards. The engine whined over but refused to fire. Ky leant on the other starter. The motor gave a cough but didn’t start.

  ‘Something mechanical?’ Malko looked at the engines with a puzzled expression.

  Ky shook his head. ‘Both engines stopped at the same time. It has to be the fuel.’

  Malko slung his AK74 onto a shoulder and moved aft. He knelt beside Nancy and took the top off the fuel tank, eyeing the contents.

  ‘Still near full.’

  ‘Try the fuel line.’

  Malko replaced the fuel cap and then traced his hands along the hoses coming from the top. Nancy was sitting over part of the fuel hose, so he grabbed a handful of her hair. She let go of the hose and squealed in pain as Malko yanked her aside.

  Nancy thought he must see the distortion in the fuel line where she had c
rimped it, but the rubber was resilient and had sprung back into shape. Malko finished tracing the line to both engines then went back to the tank. The fuel line had a rubber ball built into it so that air could be bled from the line before starting the motors. Malko pumped the ball five or six times.

  ‘Try again.’

  Ky pushed a starter button and the left outboard roared into life. He started the other engine and pushed the throttles to full power as Malko climbed back to the console.

  Feeling rather pleased with herself, Nancy struggled back into a sitting position. As soon as she had her back to the gunwale, her hands moved towards the fuel line again.

  ***

  Scott made his way to his cabin and found the door already open. Both suitcases had been upended on the bunks and the safe door hung open. He rummaged through the debris and found a pair of jeans and long-sleeved, cotton shirt. He still wasn’t sure if he’d be able to fly again, but if he could, he was damned sure he wasn’t going to do it in shorts and T-shirt. He found his sunglasses sitting on the table between the bunks and slipped them on then pulled covered shoes onto his feet. As he stepped back out onto the walkway he heard the main engines rumble into life.

  ‘Good ol’ Fred.’

  Ang was waiting for him by the gangway, Collette beside him.

  ‘You think you can do this, sweetie?’

  ‘I don’t know. I have to try.’ He saw the quizzical look on Ang’s face and wondered what the policeman would think if he realised his new pilot was a drug addict.

  Collette reached into her blouse and pulled out the box containing his medication. He expected her to remove one tablet from the foil blister, but instead she held the box out.

  ‘Take the box, you may need them at some stage.’

  Scott took the box and turned it over in his hands. He read the label and the pharmacist’s sticker as if for the first time in his life. The box was no bigger than a pack of cigarettes and he wondered how something so small could exert so much influence on his life.

  Opening the cardboard flap, he slipped the foil sheet out into his hand. Maybe they held something more than his past? Maybe his future was here as well, defined by the little white tablets in their foil cocoons? Images of the crash flooded into his mind. His hands shook again and he felt the cold hand of fear twisting his guts. He forced the bad images out and replaced them with thoughts of Nancy.

  ‘You okay, sweetie?’

  Scott gulped and nodded. He broke one tablet out of its blister and tossed it into his mouth. Fear had dried his saliva so he snatched a bottle of water from Collette to wash the tablet down.

  Fred came along the walkway from the engine room with Todd McLean and Soo-Li on his heels.

  ‘I got the engines running, as you can hear.’

  ‘You going to be able to manage this thing?’ Scott handed the bottle back to Collette, but kept hold of the box.

  ‘All the controls are in the wheelhouse, otherwise I’d be in a bit of difficulty. The policemen are going to pull the camouflage netting up onto the sundeck and then slip our mooring lines. Besides, I’ve got the best local pilot a skipper could ask for.’ He patted Soo-Li’s shoulder and the girl smiled at him.

  ‘You go get Miss Nancy now?’

  ‘I’m sure going to try, kiddo.’

  Ang held two AK74s in his hands. He passed one to Scott along with a couple of magazines. ‘We had better get moving. Malko will be on the lake by now.’ He turned and started down the gangway.

  Scott dropped the spare magazines down the front of his shirt and turned to follow. As he passed Collette he slipped the tablet box back into her hand.

  ‘You keep them. I only need one.’

  Collette threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. The magazines pressed into his ribs and he squirmed uncomfortably. Then Collette let him go and turned him towards the gangway. Todd and two policemen were waiting to pull the gangway aboard.

  As he followed Ang onto the bank he heard Collette’s voice behind him.

  ‘Go get your girl, sweetie.’

  ***

  Jenkins watched the Australian woman through slitted eyes. From his position low in the stern he had seen what she did with the fuel line. Part of his mind thanked her for the delay. Every minute longer they spent on the boat was a minute more he had before they reached Siem Reap and the undeniable truth that would send Malko into a deadly rage.

  Jenkins worked at the cable-tie binding his wrists by rubbing it back and forth on the edge of an aluminium rib he could feel behind his back.

  When Malko had come aft to inspect the engines, Jenkins had panicked at the thought of being discovered. Malko had only to see the wear on the binding and it would all be over.

  He watched the woman’s arms moving and knew she was trying for the fuel line again. This time the two hijackers might smell a rat and inspect the prisoners’ bindings. He sawed his wrists up and down the aluminium rib as fast as he could. While they were running, the noise of the engines hid any noise he made.

  Bright sunlight suddenly flooded into the boat. Above them, the canopy of trees was gone, replaced by an azure-blue sky. They had reached the edge of the swamp and were out onto Tonle Sap.

  The beat of the engines increased to a howl as Ky pushed the throttles to their stops. The RHIB rose onto a plane and skipped across wind-driven chop towards the north and Siem Reap.

  ***

  Fred pushed the throttles forward a couple of millimetres and sensed, rather than heard, the diesels increase their beat. The camouflage nets had been rolled up onto the sundeck and he had a clear view through the shattered windscreen. The bank began a slow glide aft and he spun the wheel to bring the nose away from the island. The Mekong Dawn responded sluggishly with the limited headway, but the land gradually moved away. The bow came around to point across the open water and Fred gave the throttles another nudge. He looked down at Soo-Li. The girl stared intently over the bows at the distant trees.

  ‘Okay, darling. Start pointing out the way.’

  Soo-Li shifted her weight on her feet and squinted. ‘See that big tree with the fork in the trunk, Mr Fred?’

  Fred followed the point of her hand. ‘Yeah, I got it.’

  ‘Go to the left of it. About five metres out.’

  Fred gave the engines a little more throttle so the rudder would have some bite. Beyond the place where Soo-Li had indicated he could see a row of trees blocking their path and knew he would be making a turn as soon as they entered the channel.

  ‘You will be turning right, Mr Fred.’ Soo-Li seemed to read his mind.

  ‘Right it is.’ Smart girl this one.

  Like an elegant lady the Mekong Dawn slipped into the channel. Fred kept them on course, flicking his attention from the approaching trees to the direction in which he would have to turn.

  ‘Now, Mr Fred!’

  He spun the wheel to starboard and watched the bow post drift lazily across the line of trees. A grating, grinding noise shook the boat as the hull scraped the edge of the channel. He pushed the throttles to half-power to prevent them from getting stuck. The Mekong Dawn offered up a protest of groans and creaks but kept her headway. Fred brought the wheel back to midships. The noises stopped and he spun the helm again to continue the turn.

  ‘Sorry, Mr Fred.’ Soo-Li looked up at him with her big, brown eyes.

  He grinned down at the girl. ‘Not your fault, darling. I doubt you’ve navigated something this big either. We’ll do better at the next turn.’

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The helicopter looked to be in one piece. It sat on an islet of mud and low shrubs, the main rotors drooping and untied. The aircraft didn’t look all that old to Scott, but it was hard to tell. The owners obviously kept it well-maintained. The paintwork was a dazzling-white, even in the late afternoon shadows.

  They approached from behind the helicopter, wading through waist-deep water, and Scott made his way down the right side towards the open pilot’s door. Three b
odies lay near the water’s edge, bullet-riddled and with their pockets turned out, but he was unprepared for the carnage he found in the cockpit. The pilot’s body lay slumped across the centre console which was a mess of half-congealed blood that ran onto the floor where it had pooled about the tail rotor pedals. Scott reeled back in surprise and startled a cloud of flies into the air.

  ‘Sorry. I did not realise Ky had been so brutal,’ Ang apologised as he came up to the opposite door. ‘I did not see the pilot before we were ambushed.’

  Scott felt bile rising in his throat, but wasn’t sure if it was caused by the sight of the murdered pilot or something else.

  ‘Not your fault.’ He swallowed and cleared his throat. ‘Help me get him out of the seat. I’ll need to clean up a little before we can fly.’

  Carefully, they lifted the pilot’s body from the helicopter and laid it by the others at the water’s edge. Scott tore off a section of the corpse’s flight suit and dipped it in the water then went back to clean some of the blood out of the helicopter.

  ‘So you can fly this machine?’ Ang’s voice sounded edgy.

  Scott stopped wiping at the instrument panel and let his gaze rove over the gauges and dials. He hadn’t been this close to a helicopter in months. Tremors started in his hands and he quickly returned to wiping.

  ‘I haven’t flown in nearly a year. But, yeah, I can fly it. It’s a civilian version of the same type I flew in the army.’

  ‘I see.’ The policeman’s voice still sounded concerned.

  Scott worked his way down to the console. Twice he had to return to the water to wash out the cloth.

  ‘You know what Malko will do to your wife when he has what he wants?’ Ang asked.

  ‘I saw what he did to the crew – and the boy who was recaptured.’

  ‘Then you know how important it is that I catch him.’

  ‘All I know is that I want my wife back. You are a policeman. It’s your duty to capture Malko.’

  ‘Yes, my duty,’ Ang said vaguely.