Indonesian Gold (22 page)

‘They found it?' Kremenchug was surprised. He had never
heard of any such discoveries; knowing that something of this magnitude would certainly have
attracted world attention, he could not resist being at least a little skeptical.

‘Well, they found some of it. At least, Marcos' troops
did. Tons and tons of gold packed in crates. We have to remember that, at that time, gold was
pegged at not much more than thirty dollars an ounce, effectively less than one tenth of today's
value.'

‘What happened to the treasure?' Kremenchug was now back
on the edge of his seat, credibility in the story building.

‘Marcos ordered that the find be divided; then taken to a
number of locations, and reburied. He entrusted the gold to a small number of loyal officers who
had supported his presidency.'

‘What happened when Marcos died?'

‘By then, as he had been living in exile, most of the
billions acquired while he was in power had been moved to Switzerland and the United
States.'

‘Including the gold?'

Sharon
glanced at her uncle,
who nodded, then leaned forward, permitting his niece to assist as he rose from the
chair.

‘Please follow us, Alex,' he said, shuffling out of the
lounge and along the corridor, where Alfredo waited. ‘We are going down to the cellar,' the
General then raised his arm so that his aide could hold him steady, permitting Alfredo to guide
him along.

Captivated by the Marcos gold story, Kremenchug followed,
excitement building as he was led through a maze of corridors connecting to a rear pavilion,
where Alfredo, and the servants' quarters were located. They entered, and once the outer door had
been secured, the General's trusted guardian opened a false closet, stepped inside and switched
on an overhead light, then turned to the retired commander for final confirmation before
un-padlocking a heavy, steel door. They were all ushered into a small chamber, Alfredo locking
the steel door behind, Kremenchug immediately feeling the rising panic as claustrophobia took
hold.

‘Some of the lights are not working,' Alfredo explained,
turning around to negotiate the steps backwards, so that he could catch the General in the event
that the old man missed his footing, and fell down the stairwell.

‘There's not much air in here,' Kremenchug whispered.
‘Shouldn't we've brought candles or something?'

‘It's not far,' the General's voice carried back up the
steps.

‘God, it's dark!' Kremenchug complained, moving aside to
permit Sharon to precede him down the narrow, dark passage.

‘Be careful, Alex,' Sharon warned, ‘these steps are very
slippery.'

Images of creatures scurrying around in the dark filled
his mind and he hesitated, before gingerly placing another foot forward.

‘Hold on, Alex,' she warned again, ‘if you fall, we'll all
go tumbling down.'

‘Are there any rats down here?' he asked,
anxiously.

‘Possibly. But don't concern yourself; at least there are
no snakes.'

Kremenchug
thought he heard
Alfredo chuckle, and clenched his jaw, stepping cautiously forward, amazed that Sharon could
negotiate her way down wearing stiletto heels.

Slowly, the line made its way down into the dank cellars,
built at a time when China had exploded its first atomic bomb, signaling its entrée into the
Nuclear Club in 1964. Alfredo guided the General down cautiously, those behind pausing as
required, to permit the General to catch his wind.

‘I'm sorry to hold you all up, Alex,' the General said,
between rests, ‘but I don't come down here very often, as you can see.'

‘It's all right, General.' Bravado building, Kremenchug
now found the experience strangely exhilarating, comforted by the thought that if an elderly man
and his niece were prepared to venture down into the cellars, then he should not be overly
concerned.

Less than a minute passed when the General's voice warned
them to wait, Sharon and Kremenchug obliged to remain standing on the steel staircase until given
the signal to proceed. Then, Alfredo flicked a switch somewhere, illuminating the cellar in a
soft glow, minute beams of light bringing the deep cellar alive.

Kremenchug
was stunned. The
walls were lined with a collection of wartime mementos reaching back to the Spanish-American War.
On one wall, officers' swords hung in line still sparkling in spite of the march of time.
Photographs of the General with Marcos and other members of the Filipino Military establishment
hung along one wall reflecting part of the General's military record.

‘Good grief!' Immediately, Kremenchug was drawn, moving
towards the museum pieces with outstretched hands. Alfredo immediately stepped into his
path.

‘Don't touch anything!' the General warned, stepping in
between Kremenchug and the antiques. Then, with a sweep of his hand, ‘The collection pieces are
all connected to an alarm above. If activated, the entrance would be sealed.' His voice touched
with sadness when he said, ‘These have no real value to anyone; not any more.' Then, turning to
Alfredo, he ordered him to open the underground vault.

Alfredo moved to the center of the cavern and knelt, his
hands easily locating the familiar, iron ring. He lifted the heavy cover effortlessly, exposing
the General's gold depository. Sharon took Kremenchug's elbow, moving him towards the center of
the generous, man-made cave. With orchestrated movement she stepped to one side, permitting the
overhead light to strike the strewn collection of half-kilo gold bars below. Kremenchug leaned
forward cautiously and peered into the hole, the glittering effect hypnotic, and he reached down
to touch the treasure, to see if it was real. Overwhelmed with the realization that millions lay
within his grasp, he lifted his head, and stared up at the others, their smiling faces
confirmation that the General had been a trustee, for Marcos'
Yamashita Gold.

****

‘Alex, I need to remind you of our earlier request
regarding the need for secrecy.' Sharon's confidence had returned, Kremenchug's acceptance of the
Yamashita Gold
story paving the way for her presentation of their proposal. They had
returned to the main house and were now seated upstairs in the General's teak-paneled study. The
maid, Maria, had brought coffee, then departed, leaving Sharon to serve.

‘Well, I can certainly understand why you wouldn't want
this to leak out.' He addressed the General. ‘How much is there?'

Sharon
's well-prepared answer
caught him by surprise. ‘In total, around two hundred million, Alex,' she lied; this had been the
value of the shipment lost when her parents' aircraft had crashed into the sea.

‘That was two hundred million's worth of gold bars I just
saw?' Kremenchug's brain had been filled with calculations from the moment he sighted the hoard.
In his mind, two hundred million sounded like a great deal more than he would have
guessed.

‘No, Alex,' Sharon explained, ‘you have only examined one
of the vaults.'

‘There are others, like that?' he asked,
amazed.

‘Dozens,' again she lied, her well prepared story certain
to convince the man. ‘There are more, here, on these grounds. The remainder is spread around a
number of locations known only to the General – and me, of course.'

Kremenchug
could not hide his
excitement. ‘Well, I've got to say, in answer to your earlier question, General – and Sharon,' he
added, ‘you have my word that your secret will remain with me. I guess this is where you tell me
what my role is in all of this. Do you expect me to help you find a buyer, is this the reason why
you have invited me here?' Kremenchug had already calculated the commission on two hundred
million, and was ready to accept responsibility for such a deal.

‘No, Alex,' Sharon's voice was touched with frustration.
‘We can't just sell this gold otherwise the government will go to the courts and have it
seized!'

Kremenchug
frowned, confusion
written across his brow. ‘I don't understand, Sharon. What is it that you want of me, then, if
it's not to help you sell the gold?'

Sharon Ducay rose from the rattan chair and started pacing
the study. She selected a Puerto Rican, machine-made La Corona Whiff from a box on the table, lit
this with a table lighter and inhaled slowly, the effect immediate as she commenced outlining
their proposition as how to dispose of the gold. ‘Effectively, the gold has to be laundered so
that its existence never comes to light.'

‘That's impossible,' Kremenchug argued. ‘Even much smaller
amounts are difficult to trade without someone, somewhere, getting suspicious.'

Sharon
knew this to be true,
as the General had never attempted to sell more than a few ingots at any one time. When the time
came to convert the remaining gold held below in the cellars, Sharon accepted that this process
would take some months so as to avoid attracting too much attention. Amounts less than five
million were often used as collateral amongst the local Chinese community – Sharon had already
decided that this would be the preferred way to go. ‘Not if we owned a gold producing mine,'
Sharon proposed, preparing the ground for Kremenchug.

‘I still don't see how,' he said, ‘gold produced would be
monitored in whichever country hosted the deposit.'

‘Yes, but there are countries where such checks and
measures can be controlled. We could set up operations in an isolated area where government
interference would be minimal.'

‘Indonesia?' Kremenchug looked at Sharon with a growing
respect. ‘How would it work?'

Sharon
seized the moment,
launching into detail. ‘Firstly, we must acquire a viable concession in Indonesia's Borneo
provinces. We have selected this area due to the growing interest international gold mining
companies have shown in Kalimantan prospects. I'll get back to this point as it relates to phase
two of what we have in mind.'

‘There are other gold producing countries. What about
Africa and South America?' he suggested.

‘Too far – and, neither have the investment pull that
Indonesia currently has. Because of Kalimantan's proximity to the Philippines it would not be
overly difficult to ship small quantities from here to one of the eastern ports without raising
suspicion. We would provide sufficient funding to prove the prospect with drilling, establish a
full mining operation, and simply recycle the gold bars as if they had originally been mined
there, on site.'

‘It wouldn't work,' Kremenchug said, ‘An operation of that
magnitude would require substantial staff, all of whom would know what you were
doing.'

‘Not if the senior staff were all part of our team,' she
pointed out. ‘It is imperative that all senior mining staff be sent from the Philippines. I would
assume the role of Chief Geologist, and be responsible for the selection of the others. We would
bring geologists, mining engineers and control the sampling analysis to establish the prospect's
viability and, later, production when we would reproduce gold bars to local
standards.'

Kremenchug
found the
proposition appealing. Although not entirely convinced that the practicalities of recycling the
gold bars had been thoroughly thought through, he admitted that the scheme had merit.

‘And are you certain it wouldn't be simpler just to
offload the gold through intermediaries?'

‘Positive. The international banks have frozen billions of
dollars in funds and assets belonging to the Marcos family. We can't take that risk.'

‘And you won't consider another location – another
country, perhaps?'

‘No. We want to go with the East Kalimantan concept. We
have spent considerable time and energy examining the alternatives. Obviously, this can only work
if we have a suitable tenement that could pass inspection. Also, there can be no joint venture
arrangements with either the Indonesian government or any local party. We must have absolute
control over the operation, from exploration to production. That's where you come in,
Alex.'

‘Identifying a viable concession wouldn't be difficult. In
fact, I have a number which have preliminary survey reports,' he revealed.

‘Good. That will save some months in moving the project
forward.'

‘And phase two?' he reminded her.

Sharon
stopped pacing and
returned to her seat. ‘There is not much point in sending our gold to Indonesia to have it
recycled unless we can recover its original value. Obviously, the government there will want its
cut. Royalties could rise to twenty percent before we're finished. Tax incentives don't cover
income tax, nor do they relieve corporate taxes. Then, there would be operation costs,
establishment capital requirements, ongoing expenditures and your own position to consider. You
would want, what, fifteen percent for yourself? All in all, we could lose as much as fifty, even
sixty percent of the gold's value.'