Burmese Funny Business
Chapter 10
Kris’s business trip was anything but funny. He had to be very careful not to make any missteps or he’d be arrested—or much worse.
He’d set out to travel to Rangoon, cum Yangon, the capital of Burma, now called Myanmar, and meet with a certain ship’s captain who he’d vetted and determined to be reliable and trustworthy.
One of his associates had scouted the sea captain’s hometown and homeport on the southern coast of the country and made discreet inquiries of the captain. The scuttlebutt suggested that the captain needed money very badly to pay for his wife’s cancer treatments. He couldn’t afford to take her to Bumrungrad International Hospital in Bangkok, reputed to be the best hospital in all of Southeast Asia and among the top ten in the world. He owed money and lots of it and was behind on the payments on his rust-bucket ship, the Pearl of the Orient. The captain’s desperation made him a perfect candidate for what Kris had in mind.
His scout confirmed that the captain enjoyed a good reputation in both Myanmar and India where he made weekly round trips across the Bay of Bengal making port calls at several cities and towns on the east coast of India. He was a known and respected entity by the maritime authorities in both countries.
However, Kris Amar now had one more thing to worry about and it greatly concerned him. Of course, the timing of it couldn’t have been worse. He removed his prayer beads from his bag, except he used them as worry beads instead, like the rest of the Arab, male population. He moved them one by one along the loop while considering the disturbing news, making a barely audible snicking sound as they did. He continued the monotonous ritual over and over again to calm himself as he thought about his latest problem.
His impeccable source in Thai law enforcement circles tipped him to the presence of his old adversary, one Mr. Dick Fucking Avery who was now in Nong Khai snooping around and searching for him. He had trouble believing it, but it was true. Damn, but no matter for now, he thought. He’d deal with the miserable bastard later on his own terms and at a time and place of his choosing. Dick Avery would never leave Thailand alive he vowed more than once to himself. He’d tried to kill Avery several times while in India and each attempt failed. The man just wouldn’t die. He seemed to have more lives than a newborn kitten or incarnations than a guru!
He went alone, leaving Albert Wu to run the operation in his absence. He trusted Wu, but there was no reason to make him witting to this particular link in the distribution chain. Better to compartmentalize things in the event Wu’s smuggling role was discovered by the police. The cops might turn him with an offer of leniency and Wu would readily give up what he knew of the business which included his role. No matter, Wu could be replaced, he would relocate elsewhere and continue shipping opium, but the links in Yangon and India would remain secret and intact. The scenario of Wu’s betrayal would certainly disrupt things for awhile, but there’d be no long term, irreparable damage to the business venture. There was too much money at stake to let that happen. More importantly, a steady source of income for the holy cause of jihad had to be maintained at all costs!
His destination was the Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon. A leisurely bus ride through scenic Myanmar and he’d reach it in less than two days. Despite his troubling concerns about Avery, he looked forward to the trip. He was getting burned-out from prepping and ferrying dead bodies and thought he was quickly becoming an emotional basket or casket case, he joked to himself. Obviously, Kris had been cooped-up too long in the Triangle and his morbid pun merely reinforced the fact in his mind.