Indonesian Gold (78 page)

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Authors: Kerry B. Collison

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BOOK: Indonesian Gold
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Bartlett
had first come into
contact with the General years before when there was a need to mount an expedition to recover
gold from a Philippines Air Force C130 which had crashed, killing Dominguez's brother. The
aircraft had been on loan to the PAF from the USAF at the time, the tragic disaster leaving two
hundred million dollars' worth of gold bars lost somewhere on the bottom of the South China Sea.
The operation had not been successful, abandoned after six months, due to heightened activity in
the target area when China, Vietnam, Malaysia and the Philippines saber-rattled over ownership of
the Spratly Islands.

It had been General Dominguez's trusted aide, Alfredo, who
had organized for Sharon's lightning visit to meet with him in Zamboanga. Once Bartlett had
learned of the mission he had declined the lucrative offer citing his unwillingness to have any
contact with the Indonesian military. Sharon had been persuasive, the advance of one hundred
thousand dollars in gold bars was accepted and Bartlett went on standby, pending further
instructions to be relayed via Alfredo.

Finally, when he received notification from Manila that
Sharon's window of opportunity was imminent, he immediately set sail for East Kalimantan. Nearing
his destination, he had avoided Bontang and Santan as these coastal towns were natural gas
processing centers, dropping anchor several miles offshore from Muara Badak, on the northern tip
of the mighty Mahakam's massive estuary system. As agreed, Bartlett then waited for the signal
that Sharon was on her way, the helicopter pilot's report of ‘her' tragic fall galvanizing the
mercenary into a state of readiness. He lowered the rubber dinghy then remained alert, waiting
for her to arrive, her failure to do so generating uneasiness in his gut.

The day wore on and the next passed without incident.
Bartlett couldn't be absolutely certain that the report he had intercepted was, in fact, the
signal he'd been waiting for and remained alert, monitoring further broadcasts throughout the
day. That evening, as was his custom, Bartlett tuned into the BBC's international news
broadcasts, which carried the news of Sharon's demise.

‘And now, a report just in from our Canadian
correspondent. A Baron Mining spokesperson had revealed that, today, Sharon Ducay, Chief
Geologist for what has been mooted as possibly the world's largest gold discovery, has died. Miss
Ducay, who was responsible for the Borneo Gold Corporation's multi-billion dollar discovery in
the Indonesian, Borneo province of East Kalimantan, was reported as having fallen from a
helicopter whilst traveling from the mining site, on the first leg of her journey home.
Authorities are treating the incident as an accident. Today, the Borneo Gold Corporation's shares
closed slightly lower with the announcement. On other news…'

Bartlett
had expected this
breaking story, as it was his responsibility to smuggle the ‘dead' geologist out of Indonesia,
and back to the Philippines. What he was not prepared for, however, was her failure to appear. He
would wait with growing impatience for a further forty-eight hours then set sail for Zamboanga,
leaving Sharon Ducay behind.

****

Chapter Twenty-eight

 

Captain Subandi knew immediately upon sighting the
Kostrad
Colonel standing alongside Stewart Campbell, that his decision to return directly
to the mining site had been wise. He jumped from the Bell-205, the rotors still turning
sluggishly, and hurried towards his superior with every eye in camp glued to his arrival. Most,
if not all of the Madurese and other workers had gathered, now staring at his helicopter, waiting
to see if Sharon might still be alive. When she failed to appear, the workers turned their
attention to the pilot.

‘Is it true?'
The
Colonel craned his neck, peering in the direction of the Huey.

‘Yes, sir, I'm sorry, it is.'

‘
How did it happen?
'

‘
We were traveling along at around ninety-five knots
and hit clear air turbulence. Miss Ducay had been off color and asked if we could land, I started
to take her down when she unlocked the cabin hatch. Colonel, I swear, I thought she wanted to
throw up. She jumped without warning. There was nothing I could do.
'

‘Where did this happen?'

The pilot had anticipated the question and unrolled the
map in his left hand.
‘Here. I took a quick run over the site, then reported the accident to
base.'

‘Colonel, we have to retrieve her remains. There will
be an inquiry.'
Campbell
stood
grim-faced, with hands in pockets, still coming to terms with Sharon's demise.

‘
Captain, I want you to take Mister Stewart and a
couple of men, and recover the foreigner's body.
'

‘Yes, sir,'
Subandi had
expected this would be required.
‘I'll do it now,'
he agreed, with an appropriate
suggestion of sadness to his voice.

Campbell
spotted Baird
standing alone under a tree and called out, ‘Want to join us, Eric?' but this was greeted with a
slow shaking of his head.

‘I'll organize the men,'
Subandi saluted the Colonel.
‘We'll leave immediately,'
this, for Campbell's
consumption.

‘I'm ready.'

The Colonel reminded the pilot, as he was about to walk
away.

‘And Captain, don't forget the body bag.'

****

Campbell looked out in the direction of Bukit Batubrok,
the unspeakable emptiness he then experienced by Sharon Ducay's death exacerbated by the
knowledge that Angela Dau remained somewhere amongst those distant foothills. Bewildered by her
sudden departure he decided to go in search of Angela once Sharon's body had been recovered, and
put to rest.

The flight to where Sharon had met her demise did not take
all that long and over the site and at five hundred feet, Stewart Campbell could see the
kampung
dogs gathered, enjoying their feast. He felt his stomach churn and the blood leave
his face, but held on, forcing deep breaths into his lungs, preparing himself for the grisly
find. They landed, Captain Subandi taking one of the trooper's rifles and shooting into the air,
scattering the scavengers.

‘That would be what's left of her,'
the officer stepped slowly towards the ravaged and mutilated corpse.
Campbell froze, felt faint, turned and staggered in another direction, gagging as he tried to
escape the disgusting sight.
‘Mister Campbell,'
Subandi called, cruelly,
‘Do
you

want to identify the remains before my men put them into
a body bag?'

The American knew that he should, but was in no way
prepared for what lay there. He nodded, stepped back slowly, a handkerchief to his mouth as he
approached what had once been a staggeringly, beautiful woman and was now nothing more than a
crumpled, bloody mound of torn and pounded flesh. Again, he retched. Then, with his back to the
scene,
‘It's impossible to tell.'

‘What about the rings?'
Although Subandi also struggled to overcome his own disgust at the gruesome mess, he
was, nevertheless, enjoying the subterfuge and deceit of the game.
‘You knew her better than
any of us,'
he persisted,
‘would you say that these are hers?'

Campbell
willed his eyes to
look. The Captain was crouched, pointing with a stick at what once resembled a hand.
‘I don't
know,
' the American said, choking on bile,
‘it could be.'

‘If not, who else could it be?'
Subandi smirked to himself with the knowledge that Campbell had no idea that it was his
girlfriend, Angela Dau, lying there.
‘I don't have women jumping out of my aircraft every day
of the week, Mister Campbell. What about these trousers she always wore, wouldn't you say that
these are hers?'

Again Campbell forced his eyes back, recognizing the
remains of what had obviously been Sharon's familiar jodhpurs. One of the soldiers bent down, and
recovered something from a piece of bone and flesh.

‘Captain?'
he held a
bloody ankle-bracelet in the air.

Subandi raised the bracelet on the end of the stick,
examining the piece. Satisfied, he lifted the bracelet for the foreigner to see.
‘What do you
think?'

Campbell
was close to
fainting.
‘I guess you're right,'
he muttered, then turned and retreated, making his way
back to the helicopter, left with the haunting images of what lay behind.

The soldiers bundled what remains there were into a body
bag and loaded their find. Campbell asked if he could sit forward, alongside the pilot, taking
the very seat from which Sharon had supposedly fallen. They returned to the mining camp and, once
on the ground, the American climbed down from the cockpit, and challenged Captain
Subandi.

‘What happened to the woman's personal effects?

The pilot raised his eyebrows.
‘She didn't have
any.'

Campbell
's muscles tightened
with anger.
‘When she left, Sharon was carrying a briefcase.'

Subandi frowned. What with everything else cluttering his
mind, he had overlooked this very important item. Had all gone according to plan, the briefcase
would still be sitting in the cockpit, less the gold it contained.

‘
It must have fallen out as well.
'

‘You didn't see it happen?'
Campbell
's voice reflected scorn.

‘No,I didn't. I was flying a helicopter in unstable
conditions,a woman jumps to her death and you expect me to remember something as unimportant
as…'

‘Jumped? Did you say Sharon jumped?'

‘That's not what I meant,'
Subandi looked over Campbell's shoulders for help.

The
Kostrad
Colonel approached.
‘Is that
it?'
he demanded, observing soldiers unloading Sharon's remains.

Subandi saluted.
‘Yes, Colonel.'

‘
Mister Campbell, are you satisfied?
'

The American locked eyes with the pilot. He knew the man
was lying about the briefcase. Apart from personal diaries and correspondence, he doubted if
there would have been anything of any real value inside. Since Sharon's departure that morning,
he had learned of her generosity in dividing her personal effects amongst the poorer, Madurese
women who lived and worked with the laborers. That there was now some suggestion that Sharon
might have deliberately thrown herself out of the aircraft was of some concern, particularly as
this might impact on Baron Mining's position with respect to the operation. However, as it was
obvious that the Captain had stolen the briefcase and, as so little could be gained by pursuing
the matter, Campbell decided to let it go.
‘Terima kasih, Pak Kolonel,'
he answered,
formally thanking the officer,
‘with your permission I would like to use our radiophone
facilities to talk to my office in Canada, so that they might contact the deceased's family in
Manila?'

‘Boleh, silahkan,'
the
Colonel agreed.
‘And if you require further use of the Captain's services, Mister Campbell, he
will be here, on standby.'

‘
In that case, Colonel, I would like to start ferrying
some of the expatriates from the site to Samarinda. They should be sent back to Jakarta if you
have no objections?
'

‘
The situation downriver is still volatile, but I can't
see any further reason to keep them here. Will you be leaving as well?
'

‘
Unfortunately, no – I still have unfinished business
to attend to
.'

****

Vancouver

‘Chris? It's Phil Samuels.'

Christopher Fielding peered through sleepy eyes at the
bedside clock. It was past midnight, and he had been dozing, the call startling the CEO from his
soporific state. ‘Phil?' Fielding's brain struggled slowly into gear. ‘God! Do you have any idea
what time it is?'

‘Chris, listen! I've some bad news for you.'

The BGC President immediately came alive. ‘What's
happened?'

‘It's your Filipino geologist, Sharon Ducay. She's had an
accident.'

‘Accident?'

‘Yes. Stewart Campbell, our guy on the ground over in
Indonesia just called it in.'

‘What happened?' Fielding was now wide-awake, his fingers
fumbling with an unopened packet of cigarettes.

‘She fell out of a chopper.'

‘What?'

‘It's true. Apparently she was on her way out, returning
home to the Philippines or coming over to settle up with you guys when the chopper hit turbulence
and she fell out, somehow.'

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