Yabba, Yabba Doo
Chapter 31
It ostensibly sold chemicals and fertilizers out of its warehouse in Luang Prabang to the farmers in north central Laos. Kris read that the town was listed in 1995 as a UNESCO World Heritage site due to its remarkable architecture dating back several centuries. It had been the royal capital and seat of government of the Laos until the communist takeover of the country in 1975.
The location was an ideal one for the Lao Chemicals Trading Company with the confluence of the Nam Khan and Mekong Rivers at its doorstep.
A trusted intermediary had arranged a meeting with its owner Mr. Khan, a member of a powerful, political family in Laos with close ties to the Pathet Lao government. Kris blended well with the many monks going door-to-door seeking alms. However, it wasn’t alms he was seeking, but yaba, large quantities of meth.
It was time to expand and take on another product line for his business. Its destination would be India where the demand for the addicting drug was sky high due to its low cost. It was easy to disguise and conceal, making its discovery by the authorities difficult. Selling it in quantity was the key to his business plan and that wouldn’t be a difficult chore for Puneet’s network of distributors. As an unabashed, avaricious entrepreneur, Puneet had readily given his blessing to Kris’s initiative, this time without any qualms or recriminations.
“You’ve come highly recommended, Mr. Amar. Welcome to Luang Prabang. Our mutual friend vouches for your sincerity and trustworthiness. So how may I help you, my new friend?”
“I’ll get right to the point of my visit, if you don’t mind, Mr. Khan. There’s no need for a preamble or a nice chat. I need large quantities of yaba to expand my business interests, simple as that.”
“I find it strange for a monk who takes a vow of poverty to be involved in such an enterprise; especially odd since you’re obviously Indian.”
“A couple of years ago while residing in India, I had an epiphany. I became enlightened as to how I could make a lot of money from trafficking in drugs. Like many people, I have a personal cause, perhaps crusade would be a better descriptor, to support and that requires a lot of funding. So, I converted to Buddhism and moved to the Golden Triangle to seek my fortune.”
Kham snickered at the answer while Kris kept a straight face. That was all he was giving up about his past to a complete stranger.
“Okay, I think I understand and it’s not a problem for me. The less we know about each other and our activities the better. Am I right?”
“I think that’s a sound business practice in any relationship, especially our respective ones,” Kris acknowledged.
“So what quantities are you thinking about? We’re presently working two shifts a day, but could ramp up a third, if necessary to meet your needs. We’re looking to expand our operations too.”
“10,000 pills every two weeks to start, perhaps more after testing the markets. It’s all being shipped abroad so there’s no competition between us.”
“And what’s the point of delivery?”
“Vientiane.”
“Good, that’s very good. It’s a fairly easy trip down the Nan and then to the Mekong. It’s a route we know well since we supply distributors up and down the river with our product. The police in Laos and Thailand infrequently patrol the waters so we’ve had smooth sailing for the most part.”
“However, two of our shallow-hull, long prop boats had been stopped by the border authorities in the past year, but after some negotiation they were released to continue their journeys up river. Negotiations, in these instances, means the cops skimmed some pills from the consignments for their own use. That’s the way things are done here as I suspect you already know. It’s just the cost of doing business in the Triangle.”
“I’d show you our modern, state-of-the-art laboratory in the back, but we’re cooking a large batch of yaba at the moment so it’s not safe to enter. Don’t worry about your safety though. I built a blast wall of reinforced concrete between the office and the rest of the building. In the event of an explosion, the hinged panels cut from the corrugated metal sides and roof will be forced open to dissipate the force of the blast, so no worries.”
“I assure you we only manufacture and refine the best quality product available. We have a reputation to uphold as I’m sure you can appreciate.”
With the product promo, the meeting was over. Kris handed over several thousands of U.S. dollars as earnest money and the deal was struck with a handshake.
Kris had prearranged shipping the yaba to the general’s headquarters to be smuggled south to Yangon with the raw opium. The general would get a cut of the proceeds as customary. However, Albert Wu was again being left out of the loop since he had no role to play in the operation. Poor Albert, he thought. No longer necessary, no longer a partner and not much longer to live. Sometimes Kris Amar longed for a better exit for his long prose.