Cut to the Chase (8 page)

Wallace was mildly surprised that he didn't add: ‘Yo-o-o-o-o-o!' onto the end of the command, maybe he had watched too many John Wayne films about the US Cavalry. As it was, four glasses clumped down onto the bar and they made their exit like a squad of Marines. They ignored the cab parked outside the bar in case it was a plant by the ungodly and walked down the street. Warren was successful in hailing another, they all scrambled in and the driver asked: ‘Where to?'

There was a brief silence as Jack had not progressed to thinking about that step.

‘Australian Embassy,' Wallace said, whereupon the cab took off with a crash of gears.

There was a confused hubbub. Wallace wondered for a second whether they had all been hi-jacked as the cab driver careered around all corners on two wheels. They all fell about in a heap; the cab swung around three corners in quick succession and finally almost stood on its bonnet in front of an imposing building that Wallace had seen before.

‘What the hell…?'

‘Australian Embassy,' announced the driver.

‘Shit! We're here!'

They all piled out, feeling a sense of anti-climax, and went through the gates where they were accosted by an Australian soldier. Never had Wallace been so glad to see the familiar Australian Army headgear.

‘Where are you going? Who are you?'

‘We have to see Major Lincoln,' Wallace snapped, after having reached the haven successfully he had not anticipated being held up at the entrance. Besides, the other car with two men in it, the two shadows, had just drawn up in the space vacated by their cab which had taken off, while another car had drawn up from the opposite direction; there was another just arriving on the other side of the street. They all seemed to be in concert with each other, which was very disconcerting. The vehicles sat outside like ugly toads, waiting.

‘What? All of you?'

‘Yes!' Wallace said shortly. These Americans had helped him out of a fix, Wallace wasn't going to abandon them now to those waiting outside, he didn't like the look of them.

Major Lincoln was far from pleased when Wallace finally sat before him in his office. He was impeccably dressed as usual, despite the late hour. His eyes wandered from Wallace to the wall and then to the finely polished hand grenade as he told him his story. Wallace wondered if he was contemplating throwing it at him.

‘You say you told these Americans that you had something?'

‘Yes!' Wallace answered shortly. He was fed up with the whole damned business and resolved to take the first flight out back to Australia.

‘Didn't it strike you that in the circumstances it was most unwise to make a statement like that to…!'

‘No, it fucking well didn't!' Wallace shouted angrily. ‘Look here! I couldn't think of any other way of enlisting their help in a hurry, those thugs were tailing me and had been for some time; they didn't look very pleasant and they clearly knew what I had and it seemed to me they wanted it. If it hadn't been for those Yanks I wouldn't be here now.'

‘You had them following you from the university building where the lecture was?'

Wallace didn't like the way he phrased that, Lincoln made it sound as though it was his entire fault. He was about to blow up again but controlled himself with an effort. The four Americans were only just down the corridor drinking some cans of Fosters that the Commercial Attaché, Alex Miller, had procured for them from the refrigerator.

‘Yes!' Wallace said curtly through gritted teeth.

That had been all he had intended to say, but Lincoln shook his head in exasperation and that was when Wallace's anger erupted and he resorted to sarcasm.

‘I know what did it. It was the bright yellow jacket I was wearing with the words “Secret Agent” on the back in luminous block capitals…or maybe it was when I shouted… ‘I've got it…Australia for ever!' after it had been slipped to me.' Wallace's fury reached fresh heights and he rose to even more sophisticated levels of sarcastic wit.

‘All right! That will do!' Major Lincoln snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. ‘You've made your point. Where did they lock onto you?'

‘I've already told you. Your bloody courier brought them with him into the University, he palmed the flash drive to me and then they started chasing him all over the building when the lights went out. Obviously he got away, because when I left the building and reached the hotel they locked onto me.'

‘All right! How did you know what you got was what we wanted?'

‘Jesus Christ! I didn't bloody well know and I still bloody don't! I just assumed. It could only have been that or pornographic films. Maybe that's what the head of ASIS was after.'

He ignored Wallace's sally.

‘These Americans, who are they?'

‘One of them is something to do with computer software,' Wallace answered sulkily. ‘One of the others is an engineer, I'm not sure what the others are. What are you going to do? Shoot them?'

‘Look…all right!' Major Lincoln drummed the top of the desk with his fingers. ‘I'm sorry, I was just a bit het up, that's all, that the security police should have got onto you…that is…the courier!' he added hastily. ‘Are they trustworthy?'

‘I would say so, yes!' Wallace answered. ‘Hell and Damnation! They're Americans, if we can't trust them who the hell can we trust? They helped me to get here, I've already told you if it wasn't for them I wouldn't be here – those bastards would have…caught up with me,' Wallace shuddered at the thought and again thought longingly of Melbourne. ‘God knows where I'd be but for them.'

‘How long are they here for…in the country I mean?'

‘Two of them leave in the morning for Los Angeles,' Wallace said. ‘The others…oh hang on! Yes, one of them is an outside auditor for an American banking firm here in Jakarta; he goes next week. Can't recall what the other bloke was, but he goes home the day after tomorrow, I do know that. I don't think they're together, they just met here last night, same as they met me, and they were out on the town. Thank God they were.'

‘All right!' Lincoln rose and extended his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Wallace, and well done.'

‘Hang on a minute, how do we get back to the hotel?'

‘By cab'

‘The hell we do! We've got half the security police force outside waiting for us.'

‘They won't bother you now.'

‘Oh really, do they know that?'

He thought about it and then nodded.

‘All right, we'll get you all back.'

They drove them back in two batches, Major Lincoln and Wallace slipped out of a side gate in an inconspicuous sedan while the four Americans were taken out through the front gates in the embassy limousine. He heard later that the limousine had taken them on quite an extended tour of the city before disembarking them at the front of the hotel. By that time Wallace was already back in his room and packing all his gear into his suitcase. He resolved to leave Jakarta as soon as possible…never to return.

Wallace saw Warren Hamilton and Jack Durham briefly at breakfast the next morning; they looked at him quizzically as he approached them. They had nearly finished their meal and were ready to be off. Their bus to the airport was due in about 10 minutes.

‘Hi Harry,' Warren called out. ‘It was quite a night, last night.'

‘Quite a night,' Wallace agreed. ‘Mind if I join you.'

They cleared a place for him and Wallace sat down. They chatted for a few minutes and then the receptionist announced over the address system that their bus was at the door. They all exchanged business cards, handshakes and claps on the back and then the two Americans trooped out. Wallace felt devastated after they left as he had at least until 6.00 pm when the next flight departed, if he could get on it, or until midday the next day when he was booked.

He opened his wallet to check the phone number of the airport, the sooner he did this the better. He made for the lobby phone that was just outside the dining room. The waiter paused, looking perplexed as Wallace walked out. He waved him to the table and went through the motions of talking into a telephone. The waiter got the message and delivered Wallace's eggs and bacon.

Wallace watched him idly as he dialled the number; the waiter covered the plate and hovered around.

‘Hello, I want to change my flight time please.'

‘Yes sir – when did you want to fly out?'

‘Six o'clock tonight or earlier if possible.'

He gave them the flight details and waited, he could hear the clicking of computer keyboard keys in the background and then the voice returned.

‘Sorry sir, all flights to Australia are fully booked.'

‘What?' he was thunderstruck.

‘Afraid so,' the nasal twang of the Qantas man sounded equally surprised. ‘There's been a flood of bookings within the last few hours. It looks as if you are still stuck with your flight tomorrow.'

‘Damn!' Wallace said feelingly. ‘Look, if there are any cancellations can you telephone me?'

‘Sure thing, what's your number? Oh I've got it here…OK.'

He read the hotel telephone number back and Wallace confirmed it. He went back to his table, shattered, with butterflies in his stomach. The room had filled up considerably since he had gone to the telephone, the breakfast “bulge” had commenced. He reached where he had been sitting and where his breakfast was waiting.

‘Oh God!' Wallace said to himself.

There was a man sitting at his table.

T
he man put down his newspaper and looked up.

‘Good morning.'

‘Good morning,' Wallace answered coldly, company was the last thing he wanted at present as he was not in the mood for conversation. He had his doubts about eating as well, but still had pangs in his stomach and so he started to attack the scrambled egg.

‘You are here for a short visit?'

‘Eh! Oh yes!' Wallace replied, and nearly choked as a piece of toast went the wrong way. ‘Yes, I leave tomorrow.'

‘Oh! You are here on business?'

Wallace looked up and regarded him searchingly, and experienced some surprise that he liked what he saw. He was a man of about 40 to 45, olive skinned with grey hair that was a little thin on top but quite thick around the edges. He wore rimless spectacles and had a pleasant smile. He was dressed in a smart grey suit, with a grey silk tie and had a red handkerchief peeping out of his breast pocket. He had a thin face with a long pointed jaw which looked quite appealing when he smiled. His eyes were brown and piercing and looked smaller than they should probably due to his spectacle lenses, which denoted an element of short sightedness.

‘I…yes…business,' Wallace said a little more graciously. ‘And you are here on business as well?'

‘Yes, I have to attend a conference tomorrow. I work for Texaco, I am a hydraulic engineer and I am delivering a paper on safety in oil rigs; we have a refinery here. We usually have a conference each year.'

‘In Jakarta?'

‘No,' the other man smiled and shook his head. ‘Texaco being what it is we hold them all over the country, but this was Jakarta's year. We held the last one in Surabaja but the sewerage in some nearby areas was not conducive to having a successful conference.'

‘Is it worse than here?' Wallace asked and he chuckled.

‘Indeed, worse than here,' he turned and snapped his fingers at a passing waiter, ‘More coffee, please.'

He gave more instructions to the waiter and turned back to Wallace.

‘You work here?'

‘No, passing through.'

‘Who do you work for?'

‘I work for myself,' Wallace replied and briefly explained his work.

‘Interesting,' he said. ‘You wouldn't be Harry Wallace would you, by any chance?'

‘Yes!' Wallace replied and was on his guard at once. ‘Why?'

‘Small world, I was going to attend the Indonesia-Australia Society meeting last night at the university, but I didn't reach town in time, I was held up with a problem regarding one of our rigs. You were the guest speaker. Now that I have met you, I am very sorry that I missed it'

‘How did you know it was on?' Wallace asked, a little suspiciously since his address had hardly been the event of the year, except as a sleep inducer.

‘My friend Mr Roeg telephoned me and told me what was on this month, he usually keeps me informed. I have been a member of the society for some years…look,' He reached for his wallet and took out a small plastic card. Wallace gave it a cursory glance, sure enough it had the Indonesia – Australia Society emblazoned on it. ‘Never mind, what was your subject?'

Wallace told him, he listened attentively. He asked one or two questions and answered one or two that Wallace asked him. They both sat until he had finished his breakfast and then they both rose to go.

‘What did you say your name was?' Wallace asked.

‘I didn't,' he smiled. ‘But the name is Kalim, Julius Kalim.'

‘Maybe we'll meet again,' Wallace said politely as they walked out of the breakfast room.

‘Yes, I hope we do,' Kalim replied and then they parted.

After peering nervously around the main door, Wallace finally made his way down the front steps of the hotel. He was sick and tired of looking at himself in the mirror or watching television that he could not understand, though there was a channel that seemed to specialise in English speaking programmes that gloried in such items as Bonanza, Tarzan, Star Trek, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, and other items of soap box rubbish dating back several years together with the usual smattering of Hollywood police series.

He looked from side to side in the same manner that mobsters do on Grade B Hollywood films, and then slowly made his way up the street. It was afternoon; further phone calls to Qantas had elicited the same information as before, no cancellations and therefore no seats.