— Chapter Twelve —
Pon, Stu and Spock came out of the arrivals section along with other passengers. Taksin had planned well and the domestic flight from Ho Chi mihn, plus the international flight from Thailand had landed within ten minutes of each other.
They'd spent the previous night planning imaginative, although unrealistic schemes, Pon felt it would take their minds off the seriousness of their situation. Pon changed his phone card to the clone he and Taksin had prepared, so any calls now made to Taksin from the hostage takers via Akhim would now come directly to Pon.
The three lads walked into the car park as instructed and met Akhim. They had been given his description, and the location he would meet them at from Taksin. Akhim sat on the bonnet of a Hyundai reading that day’s Bangkok post.
He never said hello, he just looked at the three, grinned and showed them the morning headlines.
The front page had been dedicated to a theft that occurred the previous evening. The article headlined the burglary of the beloved relic from the temple of the sacred light and spoke about the significance of the artefact and the great loss to the Thai peoples. Then it showed three separate photographs and underneath the photographs, it read:
These three people, giving Spocks Stu and Pons names are the only suspects and a nation-wide manhunt is underway for the arrest of the fugitives. The story went on to offer a reward and a request for information.
Akhim watched their reactions as they read the newspaper and noticed the Englishmen seemed nervous and confused, but the Thai remained calm, which he put down to his acceptance of fate.
Akhim asked how they’d escaped and Stu answered as Pon, didn’t want Akhim to recognise his voice and realise he wasn’t the same man he’d been negotiating with.
Stu told Akhim an elaborate story of how Pon had stolen the relic and together, with the help of some inside help at the palace, had joined them at the airport, and boarded a plane under assumed names and disguises.
They a showed Akhim the counterfeit passports William Anchor, Kerry Eggleton and Chait-ead wearing his mullet.
Stu managed to bluff their way through, although Akhim could speak English, he couldn’t grasp the Northern dialogue or enunciation, or the fact that Stu had been talking bollocks.
Akhim then ordered
“You will come with me, now.”
Pon pointed to the toilet and started to walk towards the men’s room, leaving Spock and Stu to place their bags in the boot of the car. They got in and sat with Akhim asking him question after question Akhim ignored them and told them to shut their mouths. He asked Stu why Pon took so long in the toilet.
“Probably grooming his tail,” chuckled Spock, he and Stu burst out laughing. Akhim not understanding became impatient and started to sound the horn.
Pon went into the men’s room, he was surprised the group had only sent one man to escort them, but as they held all the cards, he knew that they wouldn’t consider them a threat. He went into his cloth bag and brought out his neatly parcelled monks attire and his Glave. He removed his mullet and walked towards the car and got into the front passenger seat. Akhim was taken aback by Pon's appearance, now in monk’s lightweight orange robes with an impressive red and gold sash, with his shaven head as bald as a babies bum.
Akhim gave Pon a look of disdain and said
“Is the relic in there?” pointing at his bag
Pon nodded
“Give it to me,” ordered Akhim
Pon wanted to tell him fu** *ff but knew that if Akhim had recognised this hadn’t been the same voice he had been speaking to, the game would be up, so he reluctantly handed over his bag.
‘I have what I need out of it anyway’ thought Pon, whose attention was interrupted by Stu, who warned Akhim not to put his hands in the bag there was almost certainly a mullet on the loose and it would bite.
Akhim ignored this and drove to the airstrip. Pon staring ahead in silence, while Spock and Stu invented mullet jokes in the back.
They arrived at the small airstrip where a large helicopter waited with rotors idling. One of Akhim’s staff greeted them. The man had bribed the airport superintendent not to report the helicopters arrival or departure as it wasn’t a registered stop. The man would drive Akhim’s Hyundai back to Hanoi and dump it.
Spock, Stu and Pon were ushered into the large passenger section where a Vietnamese aircrew member directed them to the rear. Akhim boarded last and produced some plastic tie wraps, made them place their hands behind their backs and fastened the wraps in place around their wrists. Once the three had been secured, he sat them down and went forward to sit near the pilot, and ordered him to take off.
By the time the helicopter reached its cruising altitude Spock and Pon had started to work on their bindings.
They didn’t have a set plan, as they didn’t know what scenario they were up against, they’d had a few stupid and sporadic ideas, one of which they now trying.
Pon eased his supple body through his arms so he now had his arms and hands in front of him, then ‘thwap.’ Spock spat his dentures out and into Pons cupped hands. He snapped the dentures at the repaired break, so he had two sharp pieces. Stu kept a lookout on Akhim, while Pon partially cut through his bindings then proceeded to do the same with Spock’s and Stu’s restraints.
“One good tug and they’ll snap,” said Pon “I just hope they are as careless with their search when we reach our destination.”
Pon repositioned his arms behind his back and disposed of Spock’s dentures between the seat folds, much to the exasperation of Spock, who said aloud.
“No night out in two days, woken up at silly o’clock in the morning, beer levels at an all time low, not even a sniff of a shag, and now my poor old dentures are fucked. . . . Somebody deserves a major arse kicking.”
Even through the noise of the rotors Akhim could hear Spocks hollering, he turned around to see his passengers now sitting innocently, similar to the three wise monkeys smiling back at him. He turned back to look out of the pilot’s window.
****
Akhim had played the most exposed part in the plot. He didn’t mind, he was confident in his and Julian’s plan and knew he had been the only one that could’ve accomplished this vital section and, for his fee of Ten million dollars it was certainly worth the risk.
Akhim, an Egyptian, and one of the world’s most accomplished forgers. A short, thin, bearded, unobtrusive character. He had been originally employed by Mohamed to duplicate the original art treasures in his vault to decorating his lavish Saudi home, and hospital wing ceiling. Mohammed had been so impressed he permanently employed the thirty-eight year-old Akhim.
When Grimes was imprisoned, Akhim volunteered to assist in monitoring his well-being and safety, he’d heard about Grimes from both Mohammed and other individuals in the same line of business. Grimes had an illustrious reputation. Akhim cleverly forged papers and set up a cover story stating he was an Egyptian undercover police officer and needed to be incarcerated to observe and monitor Grimes. This worked and with the contacts Akhim made in jail, lifers with nothing to lose, and a few dollars that went a long way. He inconspicuously protected Grimes until Mohammed had further uses for him, or got bored and wanted him dead.
Akhim found some of Grime’s ideas fascinating during the time they spent as inmates and when the opportunity came up for them to work together, he leapt at the chance.
Their plan had gone perfectly so far. He, Grimes and Mophi had surveyed the plans of Thran’s home and surrounding area. They knew that when their plan was put into action they would have to avoid snipers and other obstacles that would be put into place by the Vietnamese. They had to ensure Akhim had a safe escape route from the Tangh’s home. They’d left nothing to chance, the gardener, diversions and misdirection had all been scrupulously prepared.
****
After Grimes had made the initial phone call to Thran and the instructions given. Akhim went to the Tangh’s home. He parked the Hyundai in the forecourt of a house a few streets away that the group had rented and walked the short distance with his bag of equipment.
Thran met him at the door as instructed and, as expected he was angry and made threats in Vietnamese and English but Akhim just ignored them, walked inside, and took control ordering the Tangh’s into the bedroom and directing them to stay there until they were needed. He locked the door and issued orders to the staff, which consisted of one female cook, her female helper, one female cleaner, a repairperson and a gardener. The cook doubled as a nurse to Nga who still suffered the after effects of the Thalium and side effects from the Prussian blue treatment.
Akhim had all the windows, along with entrances and exits to be covered, and then set up his monitoring, broadcasting and communication equipment. Throughout the ordeal he spoke to the Tangh’s as little as possible, spending his time monitoring the worldwide websites for any significant information and his own satellite feed monitoring any military movement on the area near Cu Chi.
He had convinced Thran that any intervention meant his daughter would die and the fact that he was an Arab made Thran believe this was a fanatical terrorist cell. Thran complied with every instruction, the berretta 92F pistol Akhim constantly waved about, made Thran nervous and with Nga still not fully recovered he decided at this stage ‘discretion being the better part of valour’ he would just conform.
Akhim instructed the household to remain working as normal, which he knew from Grimes undercover research exactly what that entailed, which would be pivotal in his evasion. The gardener had been instructed to keep a low profile among the other staff and inform him of any plot or scheme to overthrow him.
Akhim reassured the gardener that this would lift suspicion when the assignment was over, and he would be the richest gardener in Hanoi. Akhim had a willing, obedient and expendable minion.
Even though there was a strange atmosphere in the house, the staff went about their business. The cook prepared the meals for them all, she moved freely in and out of Thran’s and Nga’s confinement room at meal times with Akhim always nearby to monitor her and the gardener constantly lurking not too far away. The young woman kitchen hand went to the market and shops early every morning to fetch the daily supplies.
This small but efficient single man operation centre ran smoothly and Akhim had all the information he needed at his fingertips. He checked in with Grimes in the control centre regularly and he had given the gardener a satellite phone connected direct to the control centre just in case anything was to happen to him.
Everything went according to plan over the next few days, the minor delays from Bangkok was reported and discussed with Grimes who made all the decisions.
Everything had remained calm, until the capture of the commandos, which made the tempo shift into a higher gear as Grimes instructed Akhim to apply pressure to Pon/Taksin to move up the deadline. There was a lot of shouting, screaming and threats from Akhim made down the phone and pleading from both Taksin and Thran, who Akhim had dragged out of his room to be involved with the conversation. Eventually calm was restored and Thran locked back up in his room and the deadline reset.
‘That had been convincing,’ thought Akhim as he relaxed in Thran’s armchair, glancing at a framed photograph of Thran in Academic robes, with an English countryside backdrop holding a diploma.
‘Good old Julian, he thought, ‘he really is the master trickster. And all being well I should be out of here tomorrow’
Early the following morning Akhim prepared. He scoured the internet from first light and logged into the site he required at the Bangkok Post and read that day’s news. He did not have to search far as the story he looked for was headline news.
The household knew something appeared different as Akhim told a kitchen hand she would not be doing the shopping that day.
He gave the gardener instructions to keep everything as usual during the day. He fed him a story to tell the authorities and gave him strict instructions to free the captives after 8pm, stating that the kidnapper left in the morning, but threatened that he would be returning early evening and he was afraid to let anyone go any earlier.
Everything else had been pre set and planned for the next few moments.
Mophi predicted that the Hanoi Chief of police would have snipers in position on rooftops to observe and protect Minister Thran. He had been correct and at 7am the snipers observed the kitchen hand stood in the doorway and about to leave on her daily walk to the market, and as usual she wore her Ao Dai and Non La, silk dress and large conical hat.
“Have you seen her face yet?” asked one of marksman and laughed
“Not yet” laughed the other as he sat up and stretched “Those stupid Non La’s don’t let you see anything from up here, but I’m sure I love her,” he laughed. A large blast suddenly rocked their position.
Two more explosions shook other rooftops, blowing snipers off their feet, their eardrums imploding, and flesh tore from their bodies.
The scene was chaotic, men screaming on fire, and blinded from the small packets of pre concealed C4 placed inside some unassuming clay flowerpots, .
Akhim put the detonator in his shopping bag and, as the panicking neighbourhood came rushing out to see what had happened, he strolled to the parked Hyundai and drove away. Once he felt sure he was safe, he took off the Non-la and threw it in the rear seat next to his large shopping bag containing all the hi tech equipment. He stroked his chin and complements himself on a job well done.
He drove along route 2 towards Noi Bai airport and turned off alongside a rice paddy and stopped his car alongside parked car. Two Vietnamese greeted him. The men looked at him, trying not to snigger as Akhim got out of the car in his Ao Dai and ignored them until he’d gone behind some thickets and changed into the clothes he’d worn at Thran’s.
He gave the men their instructions, checked they had the bribe money and told one of them he would meet them at the airstrip. He then gave them his bag containing his equipment to be put onto the helicopter and some women’s clothes to dump. They all got into their respective vehicles and drove back to the road then headed in their different directions.
Akhim knew he would still have to wait about four hours until Pon, Stu and Spock would arrive, he checked the arrival times for the Thai airways flight. He bought a copy of the Bangkok Post, which had arrived on the first incoming flight from Thailand, and then he drove around the airport stopping to eat at one of the many small indoor restaurants surrounding it. He ate Banh Cuon, a rice flour roll stuffed with pork and prawns served with a spicy sausage, and watched a Vietnamese TV station report on several unexplained explosions in the Ha Tay area of Hanoi. Although Akhim couldn’t understand Vietnamese, he recognised the area he’d just departed from and saw the carnage from his handy work and, while the Vietnamese and tourists chattered around him, he sat and read the newspaper.