Walking to the windows, he cupped his hands against the glass and peered out. Something was spinning in that hangar. He focused harder, wishing he had his binos. Then he saw it: figures moving away from a green vehicle parked at the side of the hangar, a sign over the entrance saying North Air.
Sprinting for the front doors, Mac got to the car and found Sammy leaning on the bonnet and Scotty on his knees, looking under the car.
‘Let’s go,’ said Mac, opening the boot and pulling out the M4s.
‘Car’s rooted,’ said Scotty, standing.
A puddle grew under the front axle.
‘Come on,’ said Mac, throwing one of the assault rifles to Scotty. Leading them around the south side of the terminal, through an alley and out onto the tarmac, Mac pointed to where the Friendship was emerging from the hangar, its props spinning with a whining sound.
Sammy ran, but slowed as the Friendship straightened and gained speed with its opened throttles.
Mac rested his hands on his knees as the aircraft flashed past with its signature drone and climbed into the sky.
‘He’ll keep,’ said Scotty, gasping for air.
‘Oh really?’ said Mac, as he caught a flash of Dozsa’s face in a window.
It was an expression he hadn’t yet seen in the Israeli: Joel Dozsa was laughing.
Chapter 62
Scotty’s face had turned bright purple from the run across the airfield. ‘Well, we fucked that up.’
Mac eyed the hangar as his chest heaved. ‘Let’s check the Cruiser.’
Scotty hit the phone and arranged the rental car people to deliver a new car as Mac walked to the green LandCruiser. Checking the vehicle for wires and bombs, Sammy gave it the okay and they started their search.
Scotty lit a smoke and headed for the control tower to see if the pilot had logged a flight plan.
The LandCruiser was clean and Mac felt very tired. He was now sure Dozsa had an alternative way into the North Korean launch systems for their missile tests, but the only way of stopping it had just flown out of Cambodia.
Slamming the driver’s door, he moved away to stand in the shade. As Sammy came around to join him, Mac noticed something on the vehicle. Moving to the Toyota, he kneeled and put his hand out. There was a piece of yellow paper sticking out of the bottom of the driver’s door.
Opening the door, Mac peeled off a yellow post-it note with black ballpoint writing on it. It looked like a code: 555M.
‘Mean anything to you?’ said Mac, passing it over.
Sammy made a face and did a search on his smart phone.
‘It’s a bus route in Chennai,’ he said. ‘And it’s a golf club.’
Scotty jogged towards them as a green open-topped jeep entered the airfield beside the terminal and motored towards them.
‘Air traffic says the log shows Phnom Penh airport,’ said Scotty, panting.
‘And then where?’ said Sammy.
‘That’s all they have to log,’ said Scotty, turning to see the approaching police jeep.
Sammy keyed his phone and walked away, talking into the device.
Captain Loan stepped out of the jeep with a wry smile, staring at Mac through Wayfarer sunnies. ‘You following me, Mr Richard?’
‘Nah, mate,’ he said. ‘Just enjoying the fresh air.’
The Cambodian cops searched the LandCruiser and Loan walked around it, stopping and nodding at the assault rifles leaning against the vehicle.
‘Don’t tell me — it’s a Cambodian matter, right?’ said Loan.
‘Well…’
‘I can see if the officers would like to take this up as a Cambodian matter.’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘We need to talk,’ said Loan, not looking at Mac.
‘Okay,’ he said, as she led him by the arm away from the LandCruiser and the other men.
‘I’ve given you lots of freedom, Mr Richard,’ she said, a harder tone in her voice.
‘Yeah, and I gave you an eyewitness account of Quirk’s murder,’ said Mac, tired and annoyed.
‘I released Luc to you,’ said Loan. ‘I expected some cooperation in return — this is an Australian murder I’m investigating.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Mac, fishing in his pocket. ‘Found this falling out the Toyota door as we pulled up.’
‘Where’s Dozsa?’ said Loan, taking the post-it.
‘In a North Air Friendship, flight plan says to Phnom Penh.’
Pulling out her phone, Loan issued an order in Vietnamese and signed off as she looked at the note.
‘Singapore,’ she said. ‘Changi Airport.’
‘What?’ said Mac, grabbing the note from her.
‘W-S-S-S is the code for Changi,’ said Loan, turning the note the correct way up.
‘Thanks,’ said Mac, handing back the note.
‘We need to talk,’ said Loan.
‘Give me a couple of hours,’ said Mac.
‘Make it one — and don’t leave town,’ she said, heading for the control tower.
They spoke about the post-it note as they shovelled down fish and rice at a Stung Treng restaurant that overlooked the river.
‘Dozsa’s dropping off something in Changi, or he’s meeting someone,’ said Mac. ‘Either way, Singapore is all we have.’
‘He leaves an entire US currency printing press up there in the hills, and fucks off to Singapore?’ said Scotty, flushed with the heat. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘The currency was just one part of the plan with Pao Peng,’ said Sammy. ‘It may have been opportunistic and it will be very damaging if we can’t plug all of it. But the HARPAC operation is the heart of it — Pao Peng needs a nationalistic cause to fire up the Chinese.’
‘And what better than a fight with the Japs,’ said Scotty.
‘So it all comes back to these managed funds?’ said Mac.
‘But you knew that — that’s how come Singapore, right?’ said Sammy, drinking his beer and casing the room.
‘How come Singapore what?’ said Mac.
‘Well, you started your involvement in all this through Singapore.’
‘I started with Jim Quirk,’ said Mac, looking to Scotty for guidance. ‘In Saigon.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Sammy, waving it away. ‘Thought we were talking about something else.’
‘What else?’
‘You know — the whole Ray Hu thing,’ said Sammy, checking for email on his phone.
Freezing mid-mouthful, Mac looked at Scotty and then back at Sammy. Reaching over, he grabbed the phone out of Sammy’s hand and flipped it over his shoulder.
‘Hey,’ said the American, as the device bounced on the boards behind him.
‘Focus for a sec,’ said Mac. ‘Ray Hu?’
‘Well, yeah. That’s what you were doing at Ray’s house, right?’
A vein bounced in Mac’s left temple. ‘You were there?’
‘Calm down, tough guy,’ said Sammy, leaning back. ‘Ray was of interest to us and I had him under surveillance — I didn’t whack him.’
‘So?’
‘So HARPAC was buying all these companies that make the transceiver components in routers — we thought it was aimed at the US, but it turned out the Highland Pacific fund was the one making inroads into the Milstar satellites. Harbour Pacific was different.’
‘Go back two steps,’ said Mac. ‘Harbour Pacific?’
‘Harbour Pacific is a Singapore-based fund,’ said Sammy, like it was obvious. ‘It was run by Ray Hu.’
The skin was being stretched over Mac’s temples like a kettle drum. ‘Ray?’
‘Don’t sound so amazed,’ said Sammy. ‘What page are you on?’
‘You tell me,’ said Mac.
‘The big Chinese crime families are supporters of Pao Peng,’ said Sammy, shrugging.
‘So?’ said Mac, completely lost.