Grimes planned the operation with his usual precise, meticulous and methodical manner.
He had considered stealing the Holy Relic from the Temple of the Sacred Light, but decided after two already failed attempts, not to go down that route.
Grimes knew that he needed to get the relic and targets away from Thailand.
He had been a guest of Mohammed’s now for three days, with constant pressure put on him by Mophi, who kept calling him Grimey, which he hated. He wanted to get this job over with quickly and spend his millions.
Grimes researched the male individuals in the newspaper clippings and photographs given to him by Mohammed and, while he studied the wedding photograph of Pon and Kim, he stared at Kim and thought. ‘What’s her story I wonder?’
After finding a little information about her on the computer, he came up with an idea and smirked. ‘Let them bring the Holy Relic to me,’ he thought.
He and Akhim talked over a plan and presented it to Mohammed, who approved and told them to start straight away with time being of the essence.
With Vietnam far enough away from Thailand and with the two countries not having strong relations, they would carry out the operation in Vietnam.
Akhim flew to Hanoi to learn information about the Tangh family.
Grimes needed to ensure that Kim travelled to Vietnam alone.
He studied the Bangkok Imperial Palace protocol about private viewings of the Sacred Light for important foreign Royal dignitaries and smiled. ‘I will get Sheik Mohammed’s staff to book a private viewing when the time is right, so the Prime Master will have to stay in Thailand. The Sheik’s illness would be a perfect excuse for him to miss the viewing, but that would give me the time slot I needed,’ he thought.
Grimes knew that once Kim came to Vietnam, they could not kidnap and hide her amongst the general populous. He knew the power her father wielded and would easily find her. He came up with an elaborate, albeit costly plan.
Grimes found a site to best suit his purpose and studied satellite photos, maps and topographies of the specific area.
He chose a site within an area of jungle, close to the *Cu Chi tunnels, where he would attach his project to one of the many tunnels within a 75-mile maze of winding passages.
Some of these tunnels had underground rooms that the Viet Cong had used as HQs, hospitals, and soldier’s accommodation during the American/Vietnam conflict and now a main tourist attraction.
Mophi, knowing his involvement with the plan, recruited ten ex-foreign legion fighters who were now mercenaries. He bought them to Mohammed’s palatial home and kitted them out with the equipment and training they needed.
Several days later, Akhim arrived back with details about the Thran’s and he and Grimes studied the information. One piece of information piqued Grimes’ interest, so he decided to follow up his hunch soon.
Travelling with forged papers under an assumed name, Akhim returned to Vietnam and hired teams of Vietnamese surveyors, engineers, and technicians.
Over the next few weeks, the project took shape.
Akhim, travelling under the guise of an anti-American Arab billionaire and owner of several museums around the world, convinced the Vietnamese district government in the region that he would build a modern, technical museum, underground, containing war artefacts and a movie theatre.
He showed them high definition visual aids, movies, and 3D images depicting the lives of Vietnamese tunnel fighters and the lives and deaths of the unsuccessful, US tunnel rats.
He proposed building a high-tech museum underground adjoining the tunnels.
With a few bribes, computer generated images and movies, Akhim convinced the district government it would increase tourism to the Cu Chi tunnels.
Akhim arrived back in Saudi with planning permission, legal papers, and licenses, which would keep the local authorities none the wiser about their real objective. They knew that by the time the district government realised it would not be a museum, Grimes and his team would be long gone.
They sent over tunnel boring machines, large generators, steel interlocking whaler walls, excavating and TBM moles to the site.
It had been a logistical quagmire.
They paid bribes to officials on Phu Quoc Island, shared by Cambodia and Vietnam. From there, they flew in the heavy machinery and equipment with old C54 heavy helicopters.
Once the equipment arrived, the builders and surveying team set to work at a frantic pace, using a Shrinkage Stope Mining technique along with Vietnamese tunnel making methods.
They excavated a large area of land and dug a deep hole underground, approximately 30mx30m, and 6 metres deep, using explosives, and small amphibious trucks to remove the dirt, being careful not to damage the jungle above.
They then fitted interlocking whaling steel panels to the sides and a concrete roof, making an underground bunker. This would be their operations and control centre.
A team of technicians installed the environmental and electronic equipment that the team would require for their temporary stay and had specialist security equipment fitted.
The builders and mercenaries fitted the inside for accommodation, offices, a command centre, and sections for confining their awaited guests.
Although on the plans shown to the district government, there was one entry and exit into the bunker for tourists, there were in fact three.
Another larger entrance was bored under the jungle and like an underground tube station, came out at a small jungle clearing. The tunnel, approximately 2 km long connected the jungle to the control centre. To hide the tunnel mouth from above they hung a large printed camouflage canvas from the top of the jungle canopy that obscured any aerial view.
They joined to a small branch of one of the Cu Chi tunnels and closed it off with a small opening panel that tapered off from one of the main tourist tunnels, providing another means of entry and exit.
****
Grimes had a tumultuous few weeks.
The Vietnamese supervisors and workers were always in dispute, and with the ever-present Mophi looking over his shoulder, the day when he received the phone call to say that they’d finished the Control Centre came as a welcome relief.
Mophi, then ordered his mercenaries to go to the site, study the layout and terrain, and prepare for their part of the mission.
Grimes, Akhim, and Mophi stood at Mohammed’s bedside, although he was wasting away and on high amounts of narcotic analgesia, he still appeared astute.
“We have finished the building stage, Sheik Mohammed,” said Grimes, looking weary and stressed.
“Well done,” said Mohammed, sounding weak but lucid as he glanced at Mophi and grinned.
“We leave for Vietnam tomorrow morning,” said Grimes.
“Good, when can I expect my treasure and my other instructions to be carried out?” asked Mohammed glaring at Grimes.
“There is still a lot to do, but I think you will have the Buddha relic in about a month, Sheik Mohammed,” said Grimes sounding confident.
Mohammed, his strength waning as the cancer ate him away, still felt strong and alert. The physicians weren’t sure why, but he seemed to have found renewed energy and strength. Mohammed felt convinced that he was still alive because Allah wanted him to fulfil his quest.
“You have a month,” said Mohammed, his voice sounding croaky.
The three bowed and Grimes and Akhim left the room while Mophi went over and knelt down at Mohammed’s side.
“Keep a close eye on Grimes” whispered Mohammed, “and don’t forget my last instruction.”
Grimes walked with a spring in his step as he went to his quarters and stood in the shower, ‘I might have to live rough for a while, but then it’s the high-life.’ he thought and said aloud. “How will I spend all that lovely money?”
Mophi sat in his room and looked at the screen from the CCTV cameras in Grimes’s room and smirked. He would be ensuring that Grimes wouldn’t be alive long enough to enjoy any money.
****
Grimes stood in the middle of the hot Control Centre building looking aghast. Wiping sweat from his brow, he looked around the underground room, feeling as if he’d just walked into a stifling, dimly lit, immense steel shipping container with a mud floor. The room had a pungent earthy aroma, making him gag and feel claustrophobic and gave him the feeling of being buried alive.
Wanting to be inconspicuous and all travelling with false passports, Grimes, Mophi, and Akhim had spent two days travelling to Vietnam by air and road. They arrived at the Control Centre after a hot sweaty journey through the jungle covered by stinging foliage that slapped against an open jeep as it weaved its way around trees and thick vegetation.
They drove to the bunker’s entrance, went through a door, and down concrete stairs into the Control Centre bunker.
Grimes wasn’t happy. Feeling hot, tired, and in need of a shower, he stared around the huge room. He watched Vietnamese workers still erecting walls and partitions and plumbers walking around carrying plastic pipes. He saw electricians and technicians scurrying around with plans, monitor screens, and various lighting equipment.
Akhim went to supervise the unpacking and storage of the extra equipment and furniture they had brought from their Saudi Control Centre and Mophi went to talk to his mercenaries.
A Vietnamese man came over to Grimes and, speaking pidgin English said he would show him around. Grimes glared at the man as he smiled and laid out plans on the mud floor.
He and Grimes knelt as the Vietnamese supervisor went through the plans. He showed Grimes where partition walls were still to be built. Grimes looked over to where his office was planned. He saw the boxes that he’d had sent from Saudi, stacked up alongside a filing cabinet, and then he noticed several ceramic squat toilets in situ, with a bucket of water and a scoop alongside it.
“What’s that?” Grimes asked looking flabbergasted.
“Toilet,” said the man smiling, “why, you wanna go?”
“I most certainly do not,” Grimes said and looking indignant, asked, “where are the western toilets?”
“Nobody say western toilet. Vietnamese toilet very good,” said the man, who then squatted down to demonstrate how to use it. “Okay when we build wall, no one see you shit.”
Grimes sighed and thought, ‘Oh well, we won’t be here for long I hope.’
‘What else can possibly go wrong?’ thought Grimes, as the man then took him over to a small door at the rear of the centre which he explained was the entrance to and from the Cu Chi tunnels. He opened a small square metal door that resembled a ships hatch.
A look of horror came over Grimes’s face when he saw soil a foot up the doorway, with a small arch tunnel approximately three feet high and three feet wide. The man handed Grimes a torch, which he shone into the tunnel. It was the same all the way down and appeared as if a lift door had opened between muddy floors.
“What’s this?” asked Grimes, pointing into the dark tunnel.
“Tunnel,” said the Vietnamese.
“It looks very small,” said Grimes sounding sarcastic.
The Vietnamese man frowned and said. “Why you think we win war? American people too big, can’t turn around; tunnels easy for us.” The man smirked and threw out his arms and asked. “What did you expect?”
‘Good point,’ thought Grimes, who had expected to open the door and stroll down a large well-lit, aired tunnel, not crawl on his hands and knees down a small, wet, muddy hole.
‘Well, this route is definitely out of the question,’ he thought, imagining squeezing behind Mophi, who would not have fitted. ‘This day can’t possibly get any worse.’
Grimes sighed and said. “Show me the other tunnel going into the jungle.”
The Vietnamese man took Grimes along the rear of the Control Centre where he saw the discarded T.B.Moles carbide cutters removed, with the driver’s cabin and tube section now home to the Vietnamese workers and their families. Grimes shook his head and thought. ‘Over three quarters of a million dollar piece of equipment, and now it’s just a shack.’
The Vietnamese man and Grimes got onto a LRCV-V, 12 seat, amphibious vehicle, parked before a square tunnel mouth. The man drove them through a well-lit concreted covered passageway on a concrete road.
Grimes looked at the tunnel as they sped through it in the nippy vehicle. The Vietnamese man smiled. “This finished… look okay?”
Grimes smiled and nodded. “Yes, this looks good.”
They came out of the tunnel into a cleared area of jungle, underneath the artificial tree canopy.
Grimes looked up at the camouflaged canvas and then at a clearing they had left for helicopters to descend before flying under the canopy and nodded. ‘Plenty of room,’ he thought as he looked at the surrounding jungle. He felt relieved that Mohammed had mentioned that money was no object. This project already ran into millions, but as far as Grimes could see there was little to show for it.
He took a stroll around outside to get the musty smell out of his nostrils and then he ordered the Vietnamese man to drive him back to the control room.
With activity going on around the centre, Grimes went to his office area and looked through his boxes.
Drenched in sweat, he organised documents, photos, and copies of official papers.
“Now, Mrs Kim Meesilli, Miss Kim Doung, Hern Tangh, or whatever your name is, what other secrets are you hiding?” he said aloud, tapping on several photos of Kim, ranging from early childhood, through to her marriage to Pon, and recent prints taken by a Thai private detective he had hired.
He called Mophi and Akhim over to his office space and told them that he and Akhim would begin the next phase.