Chapter Thirty Four

Kae reasoned that he held two options. Both were standing before him. His initial, perhaps instinctive, response was to load them with fear; show them what the consequences could be if they failed to listen hard to all instructions. A shallow cut to soft exposed flesh would make a memorable impression. He briefly considered sinking a bullet into one of their Hmong companions, a sacrifice he felt worthy of the occasion. Any high drama would make them watch, giving them front-row seats from where they now stood. In the end he settled for a more moderate approach. A few spirited gestures with Vig’s Glock seemed to capture full cooperation. He even assured them that no harm would come if they followed simple instructions and kept their mouths closed. Soon they would be reunited and swapping stories with their friends once more. Their two heads nodding in unison were enough to convince him that total compliance was assured.

“So that’s it? If we nod like canaries you let us all walk out of this? Just like that! All the time you’ll have our backs covered ready to gun us down if we so much as sneeze.” Rusty’s voice was etched in suspicion.

Once again the Australian was proving too inquisitive and a little over brave, throwing too much scepticism at men with loaded guns and an aversion to living witnesses. Kae simply smiled. What other choice did they have other than to listen to his cheap talk? If they complied with his full instructions there was a chance they might live, though only if convenient.

Knowing where to cast his net was easy enough. The horizon was punctured by a range of ragged hills, a shimmering purple as the fierce afternoon sun caught the rocks. The end of the road.

Kae took Rusty and Jean and pushed them to the front. He would remain close to them, his own gun ensuring they would not run. They would know by now that he would use it. Rusty maintained a steely look of self-determination as his arm was grabbed, shunting him forward. Such bravado was admirable, even if he was playing up for effect. Kae knew that once any shooting started the Australian would soon lose his steel façade.

He intended to use his two local mercenaries to create the effect of a ring, to push the Hmong into thinking they were surrounded and outgunned. Once in place on both flanks, he would nudge the two travellers into the centre. Then would begin his pinnacle negotiations; a CV-busting height for his darkened career. Outmanoeuvred and out-flanked, the Hmong would be pushed into talking. With his two captives pleading for their lives, they would have few alternatives other than to give in to all his demands.

He knew how sacred the Hmong might view their hallowed Buddha, so was aware they would fight long and hard to keep it. They were a gritty people, used to having their back pinned against the wall. He would throw them a strand of false hope, giving them the illusion that they might reclaim their prized Pha Bang later. It would keep them from tearing him down in pieces once he hauled the Buddha from their grasp. He knew a dealer known to the Hmong, a wiry Vietnamese man who traded in stolen antiques behind his shop of caged birds. The Hmong enjoyed his discretion as they traded war souvenirs and fakes behind his cheeping birds. In letting his name drop, in assumed blissful ignorance of the Hmong’s under-counter dealings, the seed was firmly planted for a second opportunity to seize their prized Buddha, seemingly avoiding a deadly fire-fight on the plain as their stolen truck churned through the gears back along the potholed lane. With guns waving, the Hmong would be betrayed into holding back, conned into believing they had a better chance.

The ugly truth toed a more sinister line for the Pha Bang. Priceless jewels would be crudely scored out before fiery coals warmed the iron furnace patiently being stoked to return the priceless statue to molten liquid. Gold bars always traded well on the illicit Asian markets where serial numbers or taxes counted for little.

Kae brought his two captives to a stop. They were both quiet now, compliant with every word. As insurance policies went, Rusty and Jean were fairly watertight, the two innocents caught up in the high-stakes secretive fight of others. He had anticipated well. Once standing in the open ground pleading for their lives, no opposing guns would take aim. The startled Hmong would be forced into passive surrender, the advantage quickly changing sides.

“You talk when I tell you to,” said Kae harshly. “Any yelling or surprise movements and four guns here will tear you up before you even think to shut your mouths again.”

Kae’s words brought an involuntary shiver that caused Jean’s head to shake slightly. Rusty remained silent, no longer willing to voice added resistance. Kae knew no further warning would be necessary.

He judged they were a good mile from the foot of the hills now. With a brief wave of the hand, he dispatched his two mercenaries to each flank of the gully. They would be using the trusted AK47 to shoot some rounds into the air, one on each arm. The booming delivery of each shot should be enough to capture the attention of the Hmong below. With Vig at his side, he gestured the two westerners to move forward. They made up the distance in continued silence. Where the hills rolled down to join the potholed plain there looked to be a gully. He gestured Rusty and Jean out into the open where the gully began its upward path to the black opening of a cave. It was time to announce their presence.

As they moved, Kae froze. He wasn’t expecting an armed man to be standing just in front of them.