The Burma Effect (20 page)

“And what do you make of this Suu Kyi thing?” Stefan asked.

“Kellner was obsessed with her. I'm not sure why. I'm not sure what all that's about. Nothing probably.”

Stefan and Dima looked at each other for a moment.

“It's about Rangoon,” Stefan said eventually.

“I could see that in Kellner's notes, a bit of that,” Delaney said.“But to do what in Rangoon? And why with you guys? Protecting Aussies up on the Chinese border, maybe, if the generals or the warlords agree and you make it worth their while. But Rangoon's a different game. For mercenaries.” Another long look between Stefan and Dima. “You know what I think I'm going to do, Delaney?” Stefan said. “I think I'm going to tell you what exactly it is we're planning to do over in Rangoon. Then you can tell us what you think and why you think Kellner is late like he is. Where you think the man might be. I have worked with him before and he has never been late like this. Never.”

“We've got to figure out what's happened to him,” Dima said.

“Me too,” Delaney said.

“For his editor and his girlfriend,” Dima said.

“Yes.”

“That sounds a little like bullshit to me,” Dima said. “Reporter bullshit.”

Another pause. Delaney knew they were nervous about telling him too much but he could see that they, like him, were stumped for a next move. They clearly thought that he in some way could help them move forward.

“Kellner is a strange one,” Stefan said. “I know him. I like him. He's got balls. He's no soldier but he's got balls.” Delaney said nothing.

“We work together sometimes,” Stefan said. “He's a dealmaker, a fixer. He doesn't mind a little risk. He likes a nice adventure sometimes. And he makes big money, sometimes. And we do too. And that little junkie friend of his, Cohen.”

“This time, Kellner had something really big big big in his head,” Dima said.

“It would take a lot of money just to pull off,” Stefan said. “Trucks, chopper support, lots of gear, bribes for some of the generals, safe places to wait and regroup. Lots of money. But the Aussies had lots of money. They were going to make lots and they were ready to spend lots. So Kellner was going to rip them off. He was going to take lots of their money and get us all in position across the border and then he was going to use the Aussie money to do something else. Something big that they had no idea about. Something the generals had no idea about either.The generals were going to think we were setting up to help them out with one thing, in Rangoon, with the Aussie money, and we were going to pull off something else entirely.” “A robbery,” Delaney said.

“Nyet, nyet, nyet,” Dima said. “You watch too many videos.”

“We are not robbers, Delaney,” Stefan said. “Mercenaries are not usually robbers. We work for fees, very big fees. And we do the work because we don't give a shit, because we all like a big laugh.”

“What is it then?” Delaney asked. “In Rangoon? What?”

“The lady,” Dima said.

“Suu Kyi?”

“Right,” Dima said.

“What about her?”

“We take her out,” the Russian said with a smile.

“What, kill her?”

“No, no. Imbecile,” Dima said. “You think Kellner would let us kill Suu Kyi? No, we take her out of Rangoon, out of Burma. Bring her here. To the nice room over in the house. Kellner has it all ready for her. Nice.” “You're crazy,” Delaney said.

“Kellner's crazy. We get paid to have adventures,” Stefan said.

“You are going to kidnap Aung San Suu Kyi,” Delaney said.

“That's the plan,” Stefan said.

“From Rangoon. Right out of her house in Rangoon.” “Correct.”

“You're crazy,” Delaney said. “You'd never get near the place.”

“Oh, getting near the place isn't hard,” Dima said. “Not when the generals think we are working for them on something else. Getting out with the lady is going to be a little hard. But with chopper support, it works.”

“Helicopter support,” Delaney said.

“Correct. We know lots of interesting guys.”

“Suu Kyi's house is wide open, most of the time,” Stefan said. “A couple of sentries at either end of the street, except on weekends, when she has her rallies. They don't expect her to go anywhere. She doesn't want to leave Burma. They don't need a lot of people there to keep her inside. They would never think someone would go in to take her out.” Delaney could not believe what he was hearing. “This is Kellner's plan?” he said.

“Correct. And ours. The details, the tactical portion,” Dima said.

“It's crazy. It can never work. People are going to get killed. Maybe Suu Kyi herself.”

“We are professionals,” Stefan said. “The very best that U.S. dollars can buy. We can get her out. And anyway we want people to think she has been kidnapped or killed. You see? We want people to be worried. Or Kellner does, anyway.”

“Why would he want people to think she was dead? Or missing?” Delaney asked.

“Kellner said he would turn a martyr into a saint. He said when the people in her party find out she is dead, that maybe the generals have killed her or taken her away, they will go into the streets like they did in 1988. This time they will bring everything down,” Dima said.

“You can't be serious,” Delaney said.

“Kellner was serious,” Stefan said. “So we're serious.”

“You guys are going to try to start a revolution in Burma,” Delaney said.

“Correct,” Dima said. “The people go onto the streets. The generals crack down again like they did in '88 but this time the people are really, really angry. They think the lady has been killed or hurt. They think they will never see her again. The people will go out of their minds. Foreign governments will get upset. Other countries aren't going to let the generals crack down like they did last time. Everything will fall down. The regime will fall. They always fall when the people get angry enough. Iran, the Philippines. No one thought those governments would ever fall.”

Stefan said: “Suu Kyi lives here for a while, in her nice little room. Kellner gets to help out his lady. He's a hero. He makes a martyr into a saint. Then, when everything is done inside Burma, we bring her back in. Presto. She reappears. She is alive, after all. Takes power. My, my, my. A happy ending.”

“That is absolutely the craziest thing I have ever heard in my life,” Delaney said. “It is dangerous, wild, too wild for words. It puts a very important world figure at grave risk. Hundreds of people are going to get killed if a new revolt starts. Thousands maybe. It's crazy.”

Stefan and Dima smoked quietly.

“Suu Kyi will never agree to this,” Delaney.

“She will not be given a choice,” Dima said.

“You can't be serious,” Delaney said. “The regime will kill you all. You'll all be arrested and end up in jail and executed.”

“We don't think so,” Stefan said.

Sometimes, when faced with an event or an idea so farfetched, so utterly wild in its conception or execution, the only sensible response is silence. Delaney was dumbfounded. He sat staring at the two mercenaries, who calmly smoked their cigarettes and stared back.

They brought him back to the room where he had slept, and left him for a while. He sat back against the wall on the lower right-hand bunk.Through the doors of the other three rooms he had seen signs of soldiers' life. Duffle bags on more bunks, gear strewn around.

Delaney lay on his bed, thinking of Ben, and also, this morning of Natalia. And of Kate. And, for some reason, of O'Keefe, of Rawson, even of the old doorman in his apartment building in Montreal. Something in this dangerous situation made him think of everyone he knew, of snatches of conversations he had had or might one day have. His head ached and he slept again for a while.

When he awoke he heard voices, some of them raised, from outside. He got up stiffly, with no idea how long he had slept or what time of day it was. He looked out of the window into the yard. The mercenaries were gathered on the porch of the main house, sitting and standing, some smoking cigarettes, some drinking beer. He could hear the ones who were talking loud.

“No fucking way. No way, Stefan,” Bobby was saying.

Delaney couldn't make out what Stefan and some of the others said in reply. “Not that asshole. No,” Bobby said.

It appeared the mercs were having a meeting of some kind, a discussion, probably about next steps and what to do with Delaney. He could hear only a little and he did not want to be seen at the window. He sat down again on his bunk and tried to decide what he could do next.

Escape would be almost impossible. He didn't even have shoes, let alone a weapon. And these people were professional soldiers, possibly professional killers. They had killed Ben and so they would not hesitate to kill Delaney too if necessary. The only thing saving him now, probably, was his connection with Kellner. If they believed him about that.

He thought, just for a moment, of trying to find a gun in the other rooms of the barn. Then he realized just how foolhardy that would be. One man, an amateur, with a pistol against seven professional soldiers with AK-47s. He let the idea drop.

There was nothing to do except wait. He would have to wait to see what fate they decided for him. It was a position he had rarely been in, allowing his fate to be decided by others. He believed, throughout his professional life as a journalist, that he had been in control most of the time. That decisions about his life and his safety and his future were his alone to make. Except for a very brief period of detention by some irregulars in Bosnia while he was covering the war there, he had never been anyone's prisoner.

Eventually the mercenaries' meeting ended. The voices stopped, or at least the arguing stopped. He went to the window again and saw most of the group sitting on the porch or the porch steps. Three of the others were coming toward the barn: Stefan and Dima, clearly the two leaders. And Abbey, the man who had shot Ben. Abbey was wearing a pistol in a shoulder holster over his camouflage T-shirt.

They climbed the barn stairs noisily and came into his room. There was not much space for three to stand. Delaney stayed where he was on the bed.

“We think you should come down to talk to the men,” Stefan said. Delaney said nothing.

“Before you come, Abbey has something he wants to say to you,” Stefan said. “Abbey?”

The big Nigerian looked uncomfortable, almost angry.

“If you be a friend of Kellner, man, I am sorry I killed your driver,” he said. “The man went for his gun.”

“That man would never go for any gun,” Delaney said. “He never wanted to carry a gun. I told him to bring it with him to the car just for show. He would never use a gun.” “He picked it up and I shot him,” Abbey said. Delaney said nothing.

“If you are going to be with us, we have to clear this thing up,” Stefan said.

“I am not going to be with you,” Delaney said.

“Yes, we think you are,” Dima said.

“I am not going to be with you guys,” Delaney said, knowing as he spoke how ridiculous the statement was. If they wanted him to stay, he had no choice whatsoever.

“Come on down to the yard with us,” Dima said. Abbey looked distinctly unhappy as he headed back downstairs.

They brought Delaney over to the main house. He stood in the yard with his three escorts while the others sat or stood on the porch or the stairs. The scene had the look and feel of a people's court, some sort of bush tribunal.

“We've decided you will come in to Burma with us,” Stefan said. “We took a vote and you're coming in.”

“Five to two,” Bobby said darkly, spitting off the balcony. “Not unanimous.” “Easy Bobby,” Clive said.

“This scumbag's going to be trouble. We're going to have trouble with this piece of shit all the way down the line,” Bobby said.

“Easy,” Clive said.

“It was a group decision,” Stefan said to Delaney. “So you're coming. When we find Kellner, he can tell us really what's going on with you. If you're his mate, then we'll fix something up. If not, we decide what to do at that stage.”

“What's the point of bringing me into Burma on some kind of wild operation like this?” Delaney said. “Exactly my point,” Bobby said.

“You got no choice, dickhead,” Sammy said to Delaney.

“Too right,” Clive said.

“We cannot leave you here,” Dima said.

“And we need a witness,” Tom said.

“A witness?” Delaney said.

“Yeah,” said Tom. “We're making history. We're liberating Aung San Suu Kyi. We're cool, we're heroes. We need a witness. A scribe. You get us on the cover of Newsweek.”

Tom struck a pose for an imagined photographer. Sammy and Clive laughed. Bobby, Abbey, Stefan and Dima did not.