Indonesian Gold (59 page)

‘But, Pak Subroto,' Kremenchug tried, ‘I need to talk to
you. Are you aware that the government intends reneging on our Contract of Work?'

‘What does this mean, reneging?' Subroto
queried.

‘I mean, the Indonesian Government has decided not to
sanction

P. T. Kalimantan Gold right to work the Longdamai
deposit.' Kremenchug waited, confused when the other shrugged his shoulders.

‘It may not be as bad as it sounds,' Subroto suggested.
‘That call was from the Ministry of Mines & Energy. Someone called Baron has been trying to
contact you all day. I have informed the Ministry that you will be available in the Mandarin
Hotel.'

‘Did you say, Baron?' Kremenchug felt the chill return.
‘Was it Baron Mining?'

Subroto shrugged again, feigning ignorance. ‘It sounded
something like that.'

‘And they are going to phone us at our hotel?'

‘Yes,' the Javanese confirmed, impatiently. ‘So you will
go there now?'

Suddenly, for Kremenchug, the pieces began to fall into
place, overwhelmed by his own stupidity. He nodded, knowingly, at the betrayal, storming out of
the Jakarta office, leaving the retired Air Force General to his own machinations.

****

Subroto waited no more than a few minutes before calling
General Sukirno at his parliamentary post.

‘It's done,'
he said,
proudly.
‘They are staying at the Mandarin Hotel.'

‘How did they behave?'
The Chairman anticipated the response.

‘Predictably,'
Subroto
answered,
‘just as you said they would.'

Sukirno chuckled.
‘You've done well, Mas
‘Broto.'

Subroto replaced the telephone, delighted with his own
performance, and the outcome. Before Fielding and Kremenchug had been summoned from Canada, he
had been briefed, the stage set to drive the desperate BGC executives into his arms. That they
would visit the Jakarta office was a forgone conclusion. He had avoided the office prior to the
BGC executives' meeting with General Sukirno, positioning himself there later, in the knowledge
that the mining executives would have nowhere else to go once they learned that their company
stood to lose the rights to mine the Longdamai deposits. Although Christopher Fielding's near
physical attack had been unexpected and he was, admittedly, shaken, the exchange had added
credibility to the part Subroto had played.

Now it was up to Baron Mining to deliver.

****

‘Admit it, Alex,' the belligerence in Fielding's voice
could be detected on the far side of the bar. ‘You fucked up!' He was obnoxiously drunk – his
aggressive behavior trying Kremenchug's already-frayed nerves to their limit.

‘This is not time for recriminations, Chris,' Kremenchug
tried. ‘Let's just make the best of it, okay?'

‘God, I'm getting shit-faced,' Fielding warned, ‘haven't
done anything like this since Caroline had me served.'

Kremenchug
had heard
Fielding's divorce story before and was loath to listen to the morbid tale yet again. Having
stormed out of their Jakarta office and caught a cab to the Mandarin Hotel, he was relieved to
find that his luggage had arrived safely with Fielding. Kremenchug checked his associate's room,
and found this empty then discovered Chris in the hotel bar throwing doubles down his throat at
an alarming rate.

‘Come on, Chris,' he tried, ‘we've got to get ready for
that call.' He continued to coax him away, conscious that the bar's mid-afternoon Friday throng
was building, and that some would be associated with the mining industry. Fielding's voice
carried, and Kremenchug did not want their situation compounded by industry gossip, resulting
from something the BGC president might say in his current state of mind.

‘I'm not interested,' Fielding's voice was beginning to
slur and this worried Kremenchug. He glanced at the bar clock, concerned that they might miss the
call, then remembered that no time had been established for the connection.

‘Let's go up to the room and talk it through
there?'

‘There's not much point,' Fielding resisted.

‘How about we freshen up, then come back down later?'
Kremenchug caught the bartender's attention then requested the check. ‘We'll take the call,
listen to what they have to say, then decide on a course of action.'

Fielding turned and stared at his associate,
questioningly. ‘You really think we've still got a shot?'

‘The game's not over yet,' Kremenchug said, unconvinced
himself. He signed the tab and led the way to the lobby lifts, and to their adjoining suites,
where they alerted the operator to their presence, then sat back and waited for the all important
call.

By the time darkness had descended over the capital and no
attempt had been made to phone their rooms, the two mining executives remained locked in limbo,
the uncertainty of their situation driving Christopher Fielding dangerously to the edge. Three
hours had passed – the repetitive CNN news broadcasts adding to their agitation as the pair
continued to wait. Fielding had resisted drinking during the first two hours in preparation for
the discussion with Baron, but when another guest had inadvertently phoned their room in error,
Fielding broke his temporary fast, demolishing a variety of alcoholic drinks with punishing
speed.

‘Jesus, Alex,' Fielding staggered towards the once,
well-stocked mini bar and ripped the top from a Jack Daniels miniature, emptying the contents
directly into his mouth. He reached for another, twisting the cap with ease. ‘Baron fucking
Mining?'

‘Chris,' Kremenchug warned, ‘you've got to keep a clear
head. Ease up, okay?'

‘Why?' Fielding stumbled, regained his balance then eased
himself onto the double bed. ‘Once those mothers get their hands on our find, it'll be game over.
You'll see.'

‘Let's wait and see what they have to offer. The fact that
they're willing to talk must mean something?'

Fielding sneered. ‘Yeah, sure, they're gonna give us the
world and all we have to do… is bend over and enjoy it.'

‘We don't know that,' Kremenchug argued, but nothing was
getting through.

‘Half the fucking world… knows Baron Mining,' Fielding
hiccupped then rolled his eyes. ‘Shit!'

‘Why don't you take a shower, Chris? We're going to need
our wits about us when they call.'

‘Don't think I'm up to it.' Fielding appeared to have
reached some alcoholic plateau, where the effects were leveling off, and he was rapidly losing
his taste for more.

‘Okay, Chris, I'll take the call,' Kremenchug offered,
relieved to some extent. ‘But I need to have you clear minded. How about throwing yourself into
the shower and I'll call room service for something to eat?'

Fielding frowned. ‘Guess…you're right.' He rolled off the
bed slowly and, with feet firmly on the carpeted floor, leaned forward with face in hands. ‘Do
you know that we haven't eaten since the flight?'

****

When the connection was finally made around midnight,
Fielding and Kremenchug were on the verge of calling it a day. Fielding had become sullenly quiet
over the past hours of forced abstinence and, although his head was now reasonably clear, the
late afternoon binge had left him with a debilitating headache. Kremenchug had been nibbling at
the remains of an overcooked chicken when the shrill signal interrupted. He jumped up banging one
knee, pushed the cluttered room service trolley to one side, and grabbed the phone.

‘Yeah?' he spluttered.

‘Phil Samuels – sorry to get you at this hour,' the voice
apologized, ‘is that Chris Fielding?'

‘No, Phil, it's Alex Kremenchug. I have Chris here with
me, but he's asked me to take your call if that's okay.' Kremenchug's mind went into overdrive,
trying to recall where he had heard the name before.

‘That's okay by me. You can listen to what I've got to say
then, when you return to Canada we'll set up a meet to further the discussions.'

Kremenchug
recognized Samuels'
assumption that the BGC directors would do as they were instructed. ‘What's the deal?' he asked,
piqued at having the lesser hand, but straight to the point.

Samuels did not hesitate. ‘For obvious reasons, this call
will be limited to our registering an expression of interest in acquiring control over BGC's
Indonesian operating company, P.T. Kalimantan Gold.'

‘All of it?' Kremenchug's future collapsed into a chasm.
They were to be left with nothing.

‘That's not what I said,' Samuels replied. ‘We have
already been approached by the Indonesian Government to establish whether Baron Mining would
throw its hat into the ring, so to speak. All we've done is indicated that we're interested.
Seems to me that the next logical step is for you guys to sit down with us, and see how we can
come to some arrangement while accommodating the locals.'

‘You can't give me more than that?'

‘Not over an open line,' Samuels refused.

‘At least give us something to work on?'

‘No,' the Canadian party responded, ‘not until we can sit
down with all parties around the same table. When are you returning?'

Kremenchug
had already thought
this through. ‘We'll be back in Vancouver on Monday. Where do you want to meet?'

‘Guess you'll have had enough flying by then so, how about
I come over from Toronto on Tuesday, and meet you there?'

‘Okay, thanks. Can you give me a minute?'

‘Sure,' the caller agreed, Kremenchug holding a palm over
the mouthpiece while he spoke briefly with Fielding. The other man nodded, held his hands as if
in surrender, and Kremenchug returned to the phone.

‘Okay, it's set. We'll wait for you at the BGC offices
Tuesday morning.'

‘Fine, I'll be there,' Samuels promised. ‘And Alex,' he
added, ‘tell Fielding that there's to be nothing in the press about Baron until we give the green
light. Agreed?'

‘What about the Exchange, we're required to keep them
posted?'

‘No, there's no requirement, ‘cause at this point in time
we're only entering into informal discussions. The Indonesians want to keep the lid on this for
as long as we can. I'll explain when we meet. See you next week.'

Kremenchug
replaced the
receiver. ‘They obviously want to keep the negotiations quiet,' he relayed to Fielding. ‘My guess
is, that they'll screw us down to the boards and complete the deal before the competition gets
wind of what's happening.' He turned to his fellow director and, for the first time in days,
smiled. ‘What do you say, Chris, that we beat the bushes to see what else is out
there?'

Christopher Fielding stared at Kremenchug through glassy
eyes. ‘Aren't you forgetting that Baron's the preferred Indonesian player?'

‘Sure, but what if we got into bed with, say, Freemont?
They've already established a powerful position in this country, and would give Baron a run for
their money.'

Fielding, already resigned to an outcome that would strip
BGC of its main asset, just wanted to have their position resolved. ‘If the Indonesians had
wanted Freemont in the deal, they wouldn't have thrown Baron at us. I'm all for catching the
first flight back to Canada and getting on with it, Alex. Let's not try to outguess everyone on
this. Okay?'

‘Only until we hear what's on offer.'

‘Okay. But, we should inform Dominion Mining.'

Kremenchug
had already
considered this, but wanted to wait until Baron placed its offer on the table before contacting
Sharon Ducay. When it was appropriate he would call her on the radiophone from the Vancouver
office. Whatever was ultimately decided, BGC would need Dominion's approval as the major
stockholder before anything could proceed. Sharon's stranglehold on the company had prevented the
directors from issuing further stock, effectively keeping the newly created, asset rich, billion
dollar mining company, cash poor. The agreements that had been put in place when Dominion, as
vendor, assigned all of its rights in the Indonesian operating company, P.T. Kalimantan Gold,
stipulated that BGC could not issue any new stock until the escrow period had passed, at which
time Sharon would be in a position to dispose of her holdings and move on, if she so
desired.

With the discovery of the massive Longdamai field gold
deposits, Kremenchug believed that Sharon should have long abandoned the original concept to
launder her uncle's gold through the operation. He expected Sharon should be satisfied with the
tens of millions their share of Dominion Mining's stock in BGC would generate, when the stock was
finally released from escrow, and that moment was imminent.