Greg Young remained in a black mood as he was driven from the Bimaton holding compound in the harbor past rows of idle equipment, mobilized months earlier for shipment from the northern harbor to the Raja Seram project. With construction having fallen behind schedule, Bimaton was facing heavy non-performance penalties, the consortium’s backers urging Mohamed Aziz Derashid to explore the possibility of declaring a force majeure in view of the Indonesian military’s apparent inability to bring about a cessation of hostilities in the country’s eastern provinces.
‘The men will want to know if there’s going to be any layoffs,’ the local manager slowed the Toyota land cruiser as they left the bonded area to avoid a group of American sailors returning to their ships. Since Darwin had become home to elements of the Seventh Fleet the number of U.S. military personnel permanently based in the Northern Territory had increased by five thousand.
‘Not at this time,’ Young replied wearily, ‘but if we aren’t able to improve our performance we’ll all be looking for new employment.’
‘You’ll give me fair warning if there’s going to be any retrenchment?’
‘You have my word.’
The manager shook his head in dismay. ‘I don’t understand how the separatists have managed to keep the Indonesian army at bay.’
Young gazed out across the harbor to where the USS Kitty Hawk dominated the skyline, the ageing aircraft carrier dwarfing the guided missile frigate and destroyer alongside. With Washington and Canberra’s growing concern that the escalation in the conflict to Australia’s near north had seen an increase in Chinese naval activity throughout the archipelago’s east, the United States had countered accordingly. As an additional security measure Canberra declared a one-thousand nautical mile security zone which required all ships sailing through the zone to provide details on their journey and cargo. Beijing ignored Australia’s ‘extension of geography’ and continued to sail to within the recognized two-hundred mile limit, unchallenged.
Speculation that Indonesia’s eastern provinces would follow East Timor had ASEAN nations nervous, the naval build up in Darwin raising concerns in Jakarta that Australia, with the blessing of the United States was preparing to support the separatists declaration of independence from the Republic of Indonesia.
Again Beijing took the lead demanding that Canberra review its half-century-old military pact with the U.S. warning that the ANZUS alliance threatened regional stability and that the naval buildup in Darwin would have negative consequences on existing economic and political relationships.
Mohamed Aziz Derashid was enraged at the prospect of losing the Raja Seram projects, and how this would impact on his personal fortune and position at the helm of the Pan-Asia Islamic movement. He believed that with time Jakarta would be successful in dealing with the separatists as they had in Aceh. However, with the threat of an Australian-led, American-backed peace keeping force on the horizon, Derashid had no illusions as to what the future would hold should Bulan Sabit Holdings’ subsidiary, Bimaton, lose this core asset.
Determined to discourage the Australians and punish the United States the Malaysian entrepreneur sent a coded request via his Saudi associates for assistance to prepare what he referred to as the Sword of Allah and, within the week, Syafullah al-Yemeni, the explosives expert who prepared the 2002 Kuta bombings arrived in Thailand, where he was met by Derashid and driven south across the border.
Although Derashid’s telephone communication was recorded by the Echelon system with Syafullah’s name triggering the intercept, the Malaysian was not identified due to his disciplined use of prepaid SIM cards. Syafullah al-Yemeni was tracked into Bangkok where he disappeared, the level of alert immediately being raised by Langley, the code ‘Sword of Allah’ immediately being registered as another trigger for further intercepts.
With the imagery of traumatized children fresh in her mind Rima Passelima’s driving skills were severely tested when she rounded the corner and was faced with an armed personnel carrier lying on its side. She slammed her foot on the brake and swerved, narrowly avoiding the smoldering APC, the Daihatsu pickup’s uncontrolled slide sending Maluku Brigade freedom fighters leaping for safety as she slid past and slammed into a tree. Bruised and badly shaken Rima climbed groggily from the vehicle to survey the scene.
‘Are you hurt?’ several of the separatists had run to her side.
Rima steadied herself against the pickup. ‘Give me a minute,’ she said, gently rubbing her forehead. She checked her fingers for blood, surprised that she had escaped without any serious injury.
‘You shouldn’t stay here too long,’ the group’s commander held a cell phone to his ear listening to reports of enemy troop movement. ‘They have choppers coming our way.’
Rima squinted into the sky then back at the Brigade soldiers who, armed with the latest American XM8 lightweight assault rifles stripped the bodies of Indonesian army regulars and dumped them alongside the British-supplied APC. The commander barked an order directing his men to push Rima’s vehicle back onto the road and within minutes, having driven less than a kilometer she was stopped at a hastily prepared Kopassus checkpoint, and ordered out of her vehicle. The Daihatsu was searched, her papers checked and Rima was questioned as to the purpose of her journey, her roadside interrogation interrupted when helicopter gunships passed low overhead searching for the missing APC – moments later, the distinct sounds of an engagement, then silence, Rima silently praying that the separatists had managed to flee.
Once cleared Rima drove more cautiously as she headed back to her NGO office in Ambon, the increased presence of military hardware strung alongside the road a reminder of Jakarta’s determination to enforce its will.
Six thousand more had died in the Sulawesi-Moluccan conflict since Jakarta had declared martial law in the province and launched an offensive to crush elements of the Maluku Brigade. Another fifteen hundred had been arrested and interned at the notorious “Camp Ambon”, where access had been denied to all including the Red Cross.
Although the TNI had mobilized a significant force to address the separatist movements in the Moluccas, Sulawesi and West Papua, Jakarta had failed to prevent the growing number of well-armed, foreign Laskar PAI militants arriving, their presence evolving into the most serious military confrontation the central government had faced in fifty years. Military hardware purchased from the United States, France and Britain had been transported from Java in support of the offensive, Rima now accustomed to seeing British Scorpion tanks with their heavy machine guns and armed personnel carriers tearing through the countryside in breach of Jakarta’s assurances that British equipment would not be used for offensive or counter-insurgency purposes. Hawk jets streaked across the skies whilst updated versions of the American Broncos, duplicating the methodology applied during the occupation of East Timor, scoured the countryside bringing terror as they randomly strafed villages across the terrain.
Rima entered a section of the now clearly demarcated city where churches and mosques once stood in pride; their burned out shells the new legacy of these turbulent times. Makeshift dwellings pockmarked the desolation, Rima proceeding slowly, tapping the horn to warn a group of early teenage children squatting precariously close to the road. As she eased past, Rima could see from their hollow expressions and emaciated bodies that these youngsters were but a small part of the huge refugee population that had exploded across the province, their overwhelming need driving the children into the city in search of food and clothing.
Rima arrived at her office to find an army vehicle parked outside. Drumming the steering wheel impatiently as her security struggled to slide the steel-plated gate out of her path she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable confrontation. She parked the pickup inside the heavily fortified complex, climbed out of the vehicle and dusted down her clothes, startled when a familiar voice greeted her from the door.
‘I thought I’d missed you.’ Johanis Matuanakotta followed Rima through the office and into the accommodations at the rear. ‘I can’t stay long,’ he explained, ‘my plane leaves in less than an hour.’
‘I wasn’t expecting you until next week.’
‘The company is looking at beefing up its local facilities. I’ve been here since early morning with a team from the Raja Seram group. They chartered an aircraft to fly us over from Bali.’
‘That explains the jeep,’ Rima was relieved having avoided another visit from the local military commander’s office. ‘When will you be back?’
‘I still plan on returning as originally scheduled.’ Johanis held her by the hand, his eyes searching her face. ‘You look tired.’
Rima smiled thinly. ‘Thanks for the compliment.’ She tilted her head at the connecting door which led to her quarters. ‘Have you spoken to Anna?’
‘Briefly,’ he replied, ‘we’ll have more time next week.’ He became solemn. ‘You know I’m grateful for your taking her under your wing.’
‘Nuci is the one who takes care of your daughter, not me.’
Abruptly, he turned on his heel. ‘I should leave.’
Rima walked him to the door. ‘Be careful, Johanis,’ she warned, ‘you know that they’ll be watching.’
Johanis glanced over her shoulder where others on the NGO staff were working. ‘Jakarta accepts me as one of them, now,’ he lowered his voice, ‘it’s you who must be careful!’
* * * *
Following Johanis’ departure Rima treated herself to a long bath to wash the mental residue of the day’s experiences from her mind. As she lay quietly soaking in the tub Rima considered Johanis’ passing warning. Her work undercover with the AIVD had been demanding and dangerous, but understanding how the local people had benefited from her presence she accepted those shortcomings, proud that she had contributed in such a substantial way. The NGO continued to provide support for the needy and the Maluku Brigade had grown into a formidable force with the covert support of her masters.
Greg Young’s image floated into her thoughts and she closed her eyes saddened that she was still unable to recall his face without the scene of the devastating Bali bombing aftermath filling her brain. Rima in no way doubted that she continued to hold deep feelings for the British entrepreneur. However, with Bimaton Holdings’ association with the TNI coming to light she retained mixed feelings as to whether she could ever enjoy a meaningful relationship with someone who remained in bed with the enemy – not that she could ever reveal her own status quo in relation to her involvement with the AIVD.
Electing to maintain a distance relationship with Greg Young had been less than satisfactory, their communications now infrequent. Rima understood that the Bimaton executive was now under extreme pressure faced with the threat of losing the Raja Seram Field operations. And, examining her own contribution in the creation of Young’s misfortune by assisting arm the Maluku Brigade she fell into disconsolate mood and remained dispirited throughout the day.
* * * *
Johanis idled the time staring down at the necklace of islands strung along the sea between Ambon and Bali, his thoughts preoccupied with the task ahead and how he had arrived at this point in his life.
Johanis acknowledged that he owed everything to Rima Passelima; the scholarship she had sponsored, his time studying in Holland, the practical training that followed and his return to Indonesia where Rima had arranged for his employment as a ground engineer under a joint KLM-Garuda program. She had encouraged his mother-in-law, Nuci to bring Anna into her household, Johanis a stranger to his daughter when he finally returned to Ambon upon completion of his training overseas.
During his first weeks in Amsterdam he had gravitated towards others within the Dutch-Ambonese community which, inevitably, led Johanis into the fellowship of the self-exiled separatists, the RMS. Unwittingly, Johanis Matuanakotta did precisely everything that was expected of him which, ultimately, led to his indirect recruitment by the AIVD. He had returned to Indonesia and excelled, his diligence being rewarded with a permanent position on Garuda Airlines technical ground staff stationed at the Bali hub, the appointment also orchestrated by the AIVD’s long-reaching tentacles into Indonesia.
Johanis Matuanakotta’s deeply-ingrained hate for everything Javanese for what their soldiers had done to him and his family had not diminished with time.
He played an integral role in providing the Maluku Brigade with intelligence relating to the movement of troops from Bali under the Udayana Command, responsible for the province of Maluku. Although his involvement was not directly operational he did, nevertheless, attend the Brigade’s leadership meetings whenever the opportunity arose. Having access to the airline enabled Johanis to travel back to Ambon regularly, his most recent visit in the company of Raja Seram Field executives to inspect the damage incurred with the recent Brigade attacks on the construction sites which had resulted in all work on the project grinding to a halt.
Johanis strongly supported the Brigade’s position in forcing work to cease on the sites. They had argued that the Moluccans would not, apart from the creation of a few hundred local employment opportunities, benefit from the massive investment. If Oil and gas were to flow from the fields whilst under Jakarta’s control then the people of Moluccu would be unlikely to enjoy any share in the enormous revenues that would be generated by these extensive resource developments. And, in consequence, the Bimaton sites had been attacked, the Brigade determined not to permit the further exploitation of their resources by the Javanese as they had elsewhere, across the archipelago.
The Prime Minister’s emphatic response drowned the meeting into silence. The Attorney General leaned gently forward to catch Peter Rigby’s eye, the almost unnoticeable shake of the AG’s head signaling the recently appointed intelligence chief not to reply. Rigby then crossed his arms and stared across the table at a Russell Drysdale canvas on the far wall, the moment interrupted when the PM cleared his throat to continue.
‘We will not engage in any public debate in support of the separatist movements. Our position must appear clear to Jakarta on this matter.’
‘Might be too late for that,’ the Foreign Affairs Minister suggested. ‘The Indonesian tabloids are already suggesting that we might go down the same path as we did with East Timor.’
The PM’s eyes narrowed at the Queenslander. ‘Then it might be an appropriate time for you to revisit Jakarta and put an end to the speculation.’ Then he looked directly at his intelligence chief. ‘Can you substantiate this claim that the separatists are receiving support from the Dutch government?’
Peter Rigby returned the PM’s stare. ‘No, but that is the conclusion we have drawn.’
‘How do we know this isn’t simply a group of exiles sympa-thetic to their cause?’
‘The Maluku Brigade’s armory contains some of the latest NATO issue.’
‘Could it have been stolen or purchased on the black market?’
‘Possibly…’ Rigby hesitated. ‘…but we don’t believe so.’
‘Why?’ the PM challenged.
‘Shoal Bay intercepts suggest that the Dutch General Intelligence and Security Service, the AIVD have an agent on the ground in Ambon.’
‘Wouldn’t we expect that?’
‘The communications we have indicates close liaison between the AIVD and the separatist groups.’
‘Why?’
‘The West Papuans are receiving growing support amongst Pacific Island nations to seek a U.N. resolution to revisit the so-called Act of Free Choice.’
‘The U.N. would never agree,’ the PM scoffed.
‘They might if the groundswell was supported by both Holland and China.’
‘How would the Dutch benefit?’
‘If West Papua was successful in achieving independence from Jakarta there would be a rush to sign up resources. The Royal Dutch Shell group would have the historic advantage and China’s spiraling demand for oil would make them an obvious partner.’
‘Do we have any evidence of Chinese support for the Moluccan separatists?’
‘Only the rhetoric in their media…we have not received any information that the Chinese have actually attempted to establish dialogue with the Maluku Brigade leadership but our best guess is that contact has been made. After all, the Raja Seram Field would be quite a prize for whoever ends up in control of the area. Our analysts also feel that collectively, the Ambonese and the West Papuans do stand a chance of succeeding as the TNI is stretched, engaged across the entire eastern sector.’
‘But surely Jakarta has more than enough resources to deal with the situation?’ the PM directed his question to the Chief of the Armed Forces.
‘Yes, they could send in another fifty to seventy-five thousand troops but that would make them vulnerable elsewhere. If we go back in time we would see that Jakarta has never deployed more than half of its resources outside Java over concerns that any local insurrection would be unmanageable.’
The PM turned to his intelligence chief. ‘Then the threat of the separatists achieving their goals is much greater than we have believed until now?’
‘Yes,’ Rigby’s eyes roamed those present. ‘And that raise the probability of our being dragged into direct confrontation with Jakarta.’
‘Shit!’ the PM muttered surprising the room. He looked up, then down the length of the table and warned, ‘I don’t want to see anything in the media that there is any suggestion the government is considering a call-up. We’re coming into an election year and under no circumstances do I want the voters being spooked by the imagery of conscripts fighting Indonesians.’