‘Okay, we take him. But if he causes trouble, I’m gonna whack him, okay?’ asked Jim, loud enough for Da Silva to hear. ‘No one – especially not some failed lawyer – is going to hold me for one second longer than I have to be in this hellhole.’
‘That’s the choice, Augusto,’ said Mac, ‘and you have one second to decide.’
‘I liked you better as a blond,’ said Da Silva, spitting a chunk of flesh from his mouth as he stood. ‘But you must do me favour.’
‘What?’ asked Mac, checking the Colt.
‘Hold the gun to my head when we leave – these malai have no sense of humour.’
CHAPTER 55
Jim’s driver pulled the Mitsubishi into the shade of some trees after a twenty-minute drive east of Dili along the coast road. Any further east and they’d start running into army and militia roadblocks.
The support staff at the law office, and Señor Carvalho, were locked in a storage room and now Mac pulled Da Silva out of the back of the car by his hair.
Moving down to the beach, they found a secluded place behind a stand of trees, and sat Da Silva down on the grass while Jim’s driver stood guard by the road.
‘You wrote Operasi Boa, didn’t you?’ said Mac, his nosebleed having finally set.
‘No comment,’ said Da Silva, not so brave now.
‘That’s a nice lawyerism, isn’t it?’ said Mac quietly. ‘But it wasn’t always Augusto the lawyer, was it?’
Looking down at the sand, arms tied behind his back, Da Silva didn’t answer.
‘Let me see – Augusto goes to university on a military scholarship, he gets a law degree, starts his five years in the army, does his officer training, and then the boys from Kopassus get hold of him, right?’
Da Silva said nothing.
‘You were never really special forces material – you were always going to be head-shed with that big brain and fancy degree, right? But you complete Kopassus basic, and then suddenly you work out what they want you for. Intelligence section, right?’
‘No comment,’ said Da Silva.
‘Oh yeah, the good old boys from Kopassus intel – trained you to be a spook, then set you up with a law firm so you could always cover their tracks. Making every torture, detention and execution legal, right, Da Silva? Maybe even some property confiscations, right?’
‘What do you want, McQueen?’ flashed Da Silva. ‘You can’t get me off the island, so you have to kill me or torture me.’
‘I want to know what’s in Operasi Boa,’ said Mac, slow and calm. ‘I want to know who’s running it and what the goals are.’
‘Or?’ asked Da Silva, squinting up at Mac.
‘Or I tell Benni Sudarto you ratted him out, turned on your Kopassus brothers. I’ll tell him we pulled that ambush in Memo based on you squealing.’
‘He wouldn’t believe you,’ croaked Da Silva.
‘Perhaps. But I’m gonna have fun trying.’
‘What’s my guarantee?’ asked Da Silva. ‘What about my family?’
‘That depends on the quality of the information,’ said Mac, face stony.
‘The first stage of Operasi Boa was to get executive orders signed by the minister for health,’ said Da Silva. ‘It was a military operation to immunise the East Timorese against certain strains of pneumonia which start as a virus, incubate in humans and become bacterial diseases.’
‘They become contagious?’ asked Jim.
‘That’s my understanding,’ said Da Silva. ‘I’m a lawyer, not a doctor. The scientists were working on a mass-vaccination project.’
‘Of whom?’ asked Jim.
‘Well, it was originally called BOACL, so it covered the populations of Bobonaro, Oecussi, Ainaro and Cova Lima.’
‘Why those places?’ asked Mac.
‘I don’t know,’ said de Silva, looking up. ‘I suppose they’re rural communities, native enclaves?’
‘Where did Lombok come in?’ asked Jim.
‘Lombok is a joint venture between a Kopassus company and a North Korean consortium. It makes the vaccine.’
‘Wasn’t Lombok also making the Boa virus?’ asked Mac.
‘I don’t know,’ said Da Silva. ‘I told you – I’m a lawyer.’
‘Okay,’ said Mac.
‘My job was to tidy up the orders so they’d be signed off in Jakarta and Kopassus could make all this money from the fees they’d charge – apparently the World Health Organisation pays organisations to do this and the Asia Development Bank makes interest-free loans. Then, two months before Soeharto was gone, a high-powered major-general came into my offices.’
‘Haryono?’ asked Jim.
‘Let’s call him Major-General, okay?’ asked Da Silva, noticeably scared. ‘He was with my intel controller -’
‘Amir?’ asked Mac.
Nodding, Da Silva continued. ‘The general wanted it shortened to Boa and incorporated in a military operation.’
‘Hidden?’ asked Mac, thinking back to Rahmid Ali’s final words.
‘Disguised is a better word for it,’ said Da Silva. ‘I had to rework some clauses of a battle order called Operation Extermination so they alluded to Operasi Boa without spelling it out. You’d really have to be looking for Boa in that document.’
‘The purpose of this?’ asked Jim.
‘They wanted a signed battle order that covered them legally. They were using the power vacuum of Soeharto’s fall to get away with it, I suppose.’
‘So what was Operasi Boa?’ asked Jim.
‘It was the same vaccine program,’ said Da Silva. ‘But it changed the delivery slightly.’
‘Yeah?’ asked Mac.
‘Yeah, rather than vaccinations delivered by needles, into the skin, they shifted it to what in English is called a line-source delivery system.’
‘Which is?’ said Mac.
‘It means you spray the agent – but when it’s written in Bahasa Indonesia, it looks like you’ll vaccinate villagers by lining up the patients.’
‘Nice,’ said Jim, giving Da Silva a clip over the ear. ‘Ever heard of a vaccine that can be sprayed on people?’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Da Silva.
‘Your bosses are planning to put that disease into the villages, they’re not immunising anyone,’ said Jim, angry.
Looking pleadingly into Mac’s eyes, Da Silva shook his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘We’re talking about Extermination,’ said Jim, snarling in Da Silva’s ear.
‘That’s the operation name,’ said Da Silva, confused. ‘It’s about deporting people across the border, isn’t it?’
‘We’ll see,’ said Mac. ‘When is Boa happening?’
‘Same time as Extermination – the day of the ballot result. Maybe waiting for the right weather for the spraying.’
‘So you depopulate an area yet you’re trying to save the villagers from this super-pneumonia?’
‘It was strange, and I guess that’s why Maria -’
Silence fell on them as the surf pounded.
‘Tell me,’ said Mac.
‘Does she have to be in this?’ asked Da Silva. ‘She’s young and idealistic.’
‘Tell me,’ said Mac, harsher.
‘Maria was put together with me by Cedar Rail – the Australian intel. She was talking with me in my office and she must have seen Operasi Boa when I was called away. She had an attack of conscience – she copied it.’
‘But we miss out?’ said Mac, annoyed that Da Silva had burned the document.
‘Um, no,’ said Da Silva, slow. ‘I burned it, remember?’
‘Yeah,’ said Mac. ‘So Cedar Rail didn’t get the document that he’d been after?’
‘No,’ said Da Silva, looking Mac in the eye. ‘Cedar Rail didn’t want the Operasi Boa document – he wanted it destroyed.’
‘Destroyed?’ yelled Mac, moving at Da Silva. ‘Why would Aussie intelligence want to destroy it?’
‘That’s what he wanted me to do this morning,’ said Da Silva, gulping, obviously worried he’d triggered another attack.