“They were Chinese regulars,” Kamigami said.
James’s reaction was immediate. “Because they were wearing these? Nonsense.” He turned for the door. “Please dispose of this,” he told Mears. Then he was gone.
Mears and Robertson stared at each other. They would never admit to an outsider that the ambassador refused to believe anything that ran counter to current State Department policy with regard to Malaysia. “The official position is that we’re seeing an indigenous political faction of farmers dissatisfied with the current regime,” Mears said.
“If that’s dissatisfaction,” Kamigami said, “you don’t want to be around when they get angry.”
Mears took a deep breath. “You better tell us everything you know.” He listened while Kamigami detailed all he had learned. A heavy silence came down in the room. “This is not a disgruntled bunch of farmers,” Mears finally said. He made a decision. “You need to talk to Gus.”
Robertson moaned. “Ah, no. Give me a break, Bill.”
The white Bronco with Malay license plates drove down Admiralty Road and turned into the walled compound. Its wheels crunched on the raked gravel that led to the main house. “You’re meeting Deng Shikai,” Mears explained from the front passenger seat. “He looks like some old grandfather, and you’ll swear he’s one of the nicest guys you ever met. Don’t be taken in. He’s the head of Singapore’s Security and Intelligence Division and will cut your throat in a heartbeat.”
Robertson pulled to a stop under the canvas awning and spoke to the young man waiting for them. The visitors’ bona fides established, two more servants rushed up and opened the doors to the Bronco. The very visible bulges under their white jackets left little doubt they were armed. Tel followed Kamigami out of the backseat and stood in awe of his surroundings. “I’ve never been in a house like this,” he said.
“Keep your mouth closed and you’ll be fine,” Kamigami told him. But even he was impressed as they walked through the main atrium of the mansion and into the garden. Their host was waiting for them under a flower-covered lanai by the pool. Two beautiful girls — one Eurasian, the other Caucasian — were swimming in the pool. The old man stood as the men approached. He was tall for a Chinese, almost six feet, very thin, and slightly stooped.
Mears made the introductions. “Sir, may I introduce Victor Kamigami and Tel Zaidan?”
The man extended his hand. “I am pleased to meet you.” He spoke with a crisp English accent. “Call me Gus.” They shook hands all around, and Gus motioned them to seats. “LeeAnn, Cari,” he called. The two girls smiled at him and climbed out of the pool. They were both nude and wrapped themselves in big towels as they scurried across the grass and into the main house. Tel couldn’t take his eyes off them.
“Close your mouth,” Kamigami muttered.
Gus waited until the girls were out of earshot. “Your reputation precedes you, General Kamigami. I can’t help but wonder what brings you out of retirement.” He laughed at the look on Tel’s face. “Your big friend here was a general, I believe. That was in China, was it not?”
Kamigami nodded. “I was with Zou Rong.”
Gus’s face went blank. “Ah, yes, Mr. Zou. A most interesting creature, don’t you think?”
“He’s a survivor,” Kamigami replied.
“Indeed,” Gus said. “But Mr. Zou is not why you’re here, is it?” He thought for a moment. “Tel, I’m afraid this conversation will bore you. Perhaps you’d like to meet LeeAnn and Cari?”
“I wouldn’t know what to say to them,” Tel replied.
“I’m quite sure they’ll think of something,” Gus said. He motioned to one of the servants in the cabana on the far side of the pool. The man hurried over, and Gus told him to escort Tel into the house. “I imagine they will find your young friend a pleasant distraction,” he said to Kamigami.
When they were gone, Mears extracted a map from his briefcase and spread it on the low table in front of Gus. Kamigami pointed to a spot on the eastern coast of Malaysia. “This was my home,” he began. He spoke in a low voice, without emotion, as he detailed everything that had happened from the time the patrol boat sank his prahu.
When he finished, Gus tapped the map with his right index finger. “Why your kampong?” he asked.
“Mr. Deng doesn’t believe in coincidence,” Mears added.
“I have no way of knowing for sure,” Kamigami said. “But considering what happened afterward, I suspect it was the opening move of a plan to stir up ethnic conflict in eastern Malaysia.”
Gus was aware of Kamigami’s reputation, and there was no doubt that he could be useful. But recruiting him was another matter. Gus turned it over in his mind and then did the one thing that was totally contrary to his nature: he told the truth. “Your village was destroyed for a number of reasons. I believe it was the first step in a plan to set the Malays and indigenous Chinese at each other’s throats. I also believe that this problem will soon be ours. Further, I have reason to believe that Zou Rong is involved and that he wanted you eliminated.” He paused, waiting for Kamigami’s reaction. He found it in the set of the big man’s jaw. “Interesting, yes?”
“Very,” Kamigami said.
“We’ve created a special operations unit to deal with this type of problem,” Gus said. “But as this type of organization is new to us, we’ve encountered many…ah, difficulties.” Again he waited for Kamigami’s reaction.
“Special operations are always tricky,” Kamigami allowed, speaking with authority. He was a legend in the field of special operations, and only a very few men, none living, had a combat résumé that matched his.
“I am told you’re fluent in Malay and Cantonese,” Gus said. He paused for a moment. “I can offer you the command of our little task force.”
“I’d like to think about it,” Kamigami said. “Would tomorrow morning be okay?”
“You and Tel are more than welcome to stay here tonight,” Gus said. “Your young friend will not be bored.”
Kamigami was still awake after midnight and sitting on the veranda leading into his suite when Tel came in. He sat down beside Kamigami in a wicker chair, propped his feet up on the railing, and savored the night air. Kamigami glanced at him. There was no doubt Tel had crossed one of the divides that mark a boy’s transition into manhood. “Had a nice time?” he asked. A slight nod answered him. Good, Kamigami thought. He knows when to keep his mouth shut. A warm breeze brushed against them. “What did you talk about?” he asked, his curiosity up.
“My name. They said it was very unusual. LeeAnn really liked it.”
“LeeAnn was the dark-haired girl?”
“No. That was Cari. LeeAnn was the blonde.”
“They’re right, it is an unusual name. Where did it come from?”
“My father was English, and he named me. He used the initials for Thomas Edward Lawrence.”
“Lawrence of Arabia?”
“My father was a great admirer and said Lawrence was one of the greatest amateur soldiers who ever lived.”
“He wasn’t an amateur,” Kamigami replied. “He spent most of his adult life in the service.”
“Wasn’t he a lieutenant colonel?”
“At one time. Later he was a private in the Tank Corps and then an aircraftsman in the Royal Air Force.”
“That’s sort of like you in reverse. You were a sergeant and then a general.”
Kamigami chuckled. “That was different.”
“Which did you like best?”
“Sergeant.” He was silent for a moment. “Gus has offered me a job. It involves special operations, and I’m thinking of taking it. You’re welcome to come along, but if not, I’ll help you find your relatives.”