Plausible Denial (21 page)

“Keep
going like this and don’t touch the brakes,” said Mac. “We don’t want any
lights flashing for them to see. Damn, it’s hot in here.” He put the A/C on
high and opened his window to listen for the surveilling helicopter above.

The
trail improved as they progressed toward the road, and Culler pushed it faster.
As the trail widened a bit, Mac heard the sound of the returning helicopter
behind them. “Quick, pull over to the side as far as you can, but don’t hit the
brakes. The helicopter is returning.”

The
Huey flew low overhead while Culler hugged the side of the road and slowed down
by downshifting.

“Good
job,” said Mac. “Now let’s hang out here for a moment until he turns around and
then let’s make a dash for it.”

Culler
pushed the gear lever into neutral, and the car slowed to a stop as far over
under the cover of the trees as he could get. Moments later the gunship circled
wide and came back toward them, low as before and thrashing the trees above
them under the prop blast.

Then
it was gone behind them and Mac hit the dash with his fist. “Let’s go.”

Culler
slammed the car into drive and pushed the accelerator to the floor. The rear
wheels spun and he cut the wheel to the left and bounced over the ruts and back
to the middle of the trail. The speedometer reached thirty as the car lurched
in and out of the deep ruts and spun haphazardly down the logging trail.

Finally
they careened out onto the pavement of the macadam road leading to the highway,
and the car accelerated again. It was almost seven in the morning.

Mac
studied the GPS. “Keep heading straight until you hit the highway, then turn
right, south, and go for about a thousand meters and then branch off to a dirt
road on the left. Then you can slow down. But for now we need to get away from
that Huey.”

 Culler
concentrated on his driving. “Got it.”

They
skidded and bumped up unto the highway, and Culler hit the gas again. Ahead of
them they saw a police cruiser speeding their way with sirens blaring and
lights flashing.

Mac
leaned forward and hit the lights and siren switch on their cruiser.

Culler
screamed, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just
drive. I’ve got an idea. As soon as we pass the cruiser, spin around and follow
it north. They’ll think we’re one of theirs—maybe…”

The
police cruiser flashed past and Culler spun their car around on the shoulder of
the road, spraying gravel and dirt, and came up behind the other cruiser. Their
police radio squawked and something was said in Thai.

Mac
listened intently to the radio. “My Thai isn’t good enough to get the whole
thing but it sounds like they are calling all units to look for the RAV4. Maybe
they don’t know we’re in one of their cruisers.”

“That
would be a really good thing,” said Santos.

They
reached the road that led to the trail that had brought them out of the jungle
and the police cruiser they were following turned into it. “Keep going
straight,” said Mac.

The
Huey circled above them menacingly for several more minutes but them broke off
and headed back east.

“Let’s
put as much distance between us as possible,” said Mac, studying his GPS.
“There’s a secondary road coming up on the right. Take it east and follow it
for about twelve miles. There it will intersect with another north-south
secondary road. Take it south past Chiang Rai and follow it all the way to
Chiang Mai.”

“We
need to stay away from the main highway. That’s where they’ll be looking for
us.”

Culler
turned right onto the secondary road heading west and hit the button for the
lights and siren. “We don’t need those any more.”

“Right,
but keep the speed up. We need to put some distance between us and them. Once
we hit the north-south road, we can slow it down a bit and try to blend in.”

“Then
what?”

“Then
we find a place to ditch the cruiser and regroup.” Mac thought a bit before
continuing. “We’re gonna need support. We’re too hot to handle this on our
own.”

“Well,
that means either the general or Charly Blackburn. Take your pick.”

Mac
pushed back into his seat and massaged his temples. “Hell, I don’t know.
Neither one’s a good choice. We can’t trust the general, and it’s risky to get
Charly too far involved. We’ve got to keep that connection secure. Otherwise
denial goes down the drain. We can’t do that to the DDO, not to Ed Rothmann.”

“The
way I see it, we’re going to need Charly and her Hmong tribesman. Without them
we’re dead in the water. We’re not going to accomplish anything. Trying to go
it alone is turning into a goat rope.”

“And
we’re not out of it yet. You’re right, of course. We’re going to need Charly to
get us out of this mess and back on track to complete the mission. I’ll call
her and tell her we’re on our way.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

C
harly
Blackburn was eating a breakfast of fresh mango, sticky rice, and assorted
fruits on the veranda of her villa when her “non-attributable” cell phone rang.
She scrambled to find it in the bottom of her cluttered purse, and her heart
jumped when she recognized the number on the caller ID.

She
shooed her servant away with a wave of the hand and the woman bowed deeply and
shuffled back into the house on calloused bare feet. “Hey, what’s up?” she said
into the phone, trying to act casual. 

The
sound of her voice reassured Mac. Charly was a rock. She would know how to get
them out of this situation. They were exhausted from the physical exertion and
the adrenaline rush of the previous twelve hours. And they had left their
Camelbaks and granola bars in the trunk and were afraid to stop the car to
retrieve them for fear of being seen, so now they were hungry and thirsty as
well.

“The
short story is we’ve commandeered a police cruiser. Right now we’re northeast
of Chiang Rai heading south through a village named…Ban Lao, I think. The whole
country is out searching for us, and pretty soon they’re going to know we’re in
a police cruiser. Got any bright ideas?”

“Yeah,
stay off the main roads and don’t let anyone see your ugly
farang
faces.”

“Thanks,
I needed that…”

Charly
smiled and popped a grape into her mouth. She liked having the upper hand over
MacMurphy. But she liked helping him even more. She was tired of flitting from
one case officer to another, and the job was getting to her. She was also tired
of fighting a losing battle with the drug lords, and she was especially tired
of sex without romance.

She
wanted Mac, but he was, after all, Mac...
Life sucks
, she thought.
It
really sucks
.

Her
mind spun. How could she get him out of this mess? There was only so much she could
do. The rest would be up to them, but they were resourceful guys.

“Okay,
keep coming south on the back roads. Head southeast toward a town named Ban
Huai Kang near the Lao border, and then turn southwest toward Ban Khai then Ban
Pa Kha. Have you got that?”

“Yeah,
I’m writing. Keep going.”

“When
you get to Ban Pa Kha, turn west toward Chiang Mai. Just before you get to
Chiang Mai, you’ll go through a small village called San Sai. That’s where I’ll
meet you. In San Sai. Got it?”

“Okay,
that’s great, Charly. We really appreciate this. But be careful you’re not
followed, and…”

“Don’t
lecture me about security. I’ll be clean when I get there and I’ll have a clean
vehicle. Just get there in one piece, hopefully without a dozen police cars on
your tail.

“By
the way, in case you haven’t heard, your exploits at the Orchid Lodge and the
Wangcome Hotel are all over the news, and whatever you did at the warehouse in
Mae Chan is soon to follow. That’s already in our channels.”

Mac
was confused. “What happened at the Orchid Lodge?”

She
looked around to make sure her maid was out of earshot before answering. “Your
rental car was blown to bits in the parking lot with an American tourist
inside.”

“Oh
my God. I didn’t know. You said ‘a’ tourist. How many people were in the car?”

“Just
one, a man. His wife was the one who told the police about you and Culler and
the vehicle trade.”

Mac
cast Culler a nauseated look
.
“Sonofabitch. I’m really sorry about
that.”

“Of
course you are. Now just concentrate on getting to San Sai safely. It should
take you about three hours over those roads. When you get near the center of
town—it’s not very big so keep your eyes open—you will see a long tree-lined
driveway on your left. It leads to a burned out, abandoned charcoal factory.
You can’t miss it. Go down that driveway and pull around back of the building.
I’ll be waiting for you.”

Chapter Sixty-Five

I
don’t know about you, Mac, but I’ve got to take a leak and we’ve got to get our
Camelbaks and power bars out of the trunk. I can’t last another hour without
food and water.”

“Me
neither. Let’s find a secluded place to pull over and take care of our animal
needs and cravings.”

They
found a spot on a lonely stretch of the road on the outskirts of Ban Lao. There
were woods to their left and fields to their right. They got out, stretched,
and each selected a tire upon which to relieve themselves.

Mac
popped the trunk and rummaged around looking for the Camelbaks and granola
bars. He pulled them out and slammed the trunk shut just as a jeep drove by
coming from the other direction. The jeep slowed and the two men in the front
seat craned their necks in the direction of the police cruiser.

Culler
and Mac tried to shield their faces as best they could by turning away and putting
their hands up to their heads. They did not look back as the jeep passed them.

They
hurried back into the cruiser and slammed the doors shut. Culler pulled the
vehicle back onto the road.

Then
Mac broke the silence. In a philosophical tone he said, “It never ceases to
amaze me. You can be in the most remote spot in Asia, and as soon as you stop
to take a leak someone comes out of nowhere to watch. It’s definitely a third
world kind of thing.”

“Do
you think they noticed us?”

“Hell,
I don’t know. But it’s not good. We’ve got every cop and druggie in north
Thailand out looking for us, and those idiots have to drive by while we’re
outside of the car taking a piss on the side of the road. If we didn’t have bad
luck, we wouldn’t have any luck at all.” 

“Mind
if I go a little faster?”

“Just
don’t get a ticket.”

Culler
drove as fast as he could over the narrow back roads. They slowed as they
passed through the little village of Ban Huai Kang and then headed southeast
toward Ban Khai. There was very little traffic on the road, but when they did
meet an oncoming vehicle they had to slow to a near stop and pull over to the
side to let the other vehicle past.

The
trucks were the worst. They hogged the road and drove way too fast, the drivers
not caring one bit whether they drove the oncoming vehicles off the road. Mac
wondered what would happen if two trucks met at a curve. But he knew the
answer.

Truck
accidents were the bane of Thailand. The drivers were often unlicensed and
overworked, resorting to drugs to stay awake on their long hauls. And when an
accident did occur, the drivers would simply disappear from the scene, leaving
the injured and dead behind them, and going on to the next truck driving job.

The
two men munched on granola bars and drank heavily from their Camelbaks. The
road ran through heavy woods broken by fields and scrub brush, wild elephant
country years ago.

They
were feeling better and the police radio remained relatively silent, probably
because reception was so bad in the hills, which was a good thing.

They
passed through Ban Pa Kha at a crawl due to the gaggle of people and animals
walking on the road. The people regarded the cruiser with mild curiosity, but
the heavily tinted windows did not permit them to see inside.

They
turned west on an improved, two-lane macadam road to Chiang Mai. They were
thirty-three kilometers from their rendezvous with Charly Blackburn.

They
arrived in San Sai at a few minutes before eleven in the morning, almost
exactly three hours after speaking to Charly on the phone.

Mac
said, “Look at that. Right on time. Charly sure does know this part of the
world. She said it would take us about three hours to get here and here we
are.”

“And
I do believe that’s the tree-lined driveway we’re looking for. Up there on the
left, in that field.”

They
crept through the village of San Sai. It was larger than many of the others
they had passed through, more like a small town. The road was lined with shops
and open restaurants with cars parked in front along both sides of the road.
People, dogs, goats and pigs milled about.

“My,
my,” said Mac, “I do believe we have reached the suburbs.”

Culler
turned the cruiser into the tree lined drive and headed toward the burned out
charcoal factory. Everything was exactly as Charly had described it.

Chapter Sixty-Six

C
harly
Blackburn stood behind the factory where she said she would be, leaning up
against a white Toyota Land Cruiser.

She
was wearing tan slacks and a matching tan safari style blouse. Her rich black hair
was pulled back into a pony tail. She looked crisp and fresh. She tilted her
sunglasses down and peered over them as the men approached.