Plausible Denial Read Online Free Page B

stinking Americans, the Thai government went after my
father with a vengeance and all but destroyed his empire.”
    His
troops nodded and muttered in agreement. Many had heard this speech before but
none of them dared let on. 
    Khun
Ut turned to face them and raised his voice. “In their assault on Ban Hin Taek
they killed his natural son, my closest friend in the world, my brother, and
destroyed my leg.” He reached down and rubbed his right knee with both hands
for emphasis. 
    “With
your help we have regained much of that lost ground and are now well on our way
to once again cornering the U.S. heroin market. Leave the cocaine to the
Colombians. We are once again the kings of the heroin trade. Khun Sa would be
proud of what we have accomplished in such a short time. He would be gratified,
just as I am.”
    By
now Khun Ut was sweating profusely. The air was still in the warehouse, despite
dozens of whirling ceiling fans. “We left three fine men on the battlefield
today and they will be remembered. Their families will be well taken care of. I
will see to that personally. And the rest of you will be generously rewarded as
well. We have struck a hard blow at the Americans. This has been a glorious day
for which you should all be very proud.”
    He
turned to the Cambodian. “Ung Chea, I have a special note of thanks to you.
Your father would have been extremely proud of you today. Your operation was
executed perfectly, absolutely precisely. Your keen attention to detail during
the planning stages was clearly well worth the effort, and your men performed
with precision. You left nothing to chance. I am honored to have you with me
and I am grateful that you traveled all the way from Anlong Veng in Cambodia to
join me here in the hills of Northern Thailand. I recall vividly how sad you
were at the passing of Ta Mok in that filthy Phnom Penh prison. We shared the
grief of losing both our fathers that same year. You have become my right hand,
and I thank Buddha every day for bringing you to me.”
    The
Cambodian did his best to look stern, but his scarred face glowed red from the
praise that was being heaped upon him by Khun Ut. He had indeed found a new
home here in the Golden Triangle, and a new mentor in Khun Ut. The crowd
erupted in applause as Khun Ut limped victoriously past them and out the main
door.
    Khun
Ut may have been right about the impotence of the U.S., but what he did not
count on was the wrath of the CIA’s deputy director of operations, Edwin
Rothmann, the DDO. 
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    Suze-La-Rousse, Southern France
     
     
    M acMurphy
paced nervously at the edge of the ancient town, his eyes flicking to the old
Roman stone bridge that separated the village from the highway. It was six
minutes past noon. He was late, which was unusual for a case officer coming to
an operational meeting.
    Then
he saw a taxi pull to the side of the road and discharge a big man.
    The
man headed directly for the bridge, his feet crunching on the gravel at the
side of the road. He walked with a John Wayne swagger, one shoulder dipped
lower than the other, and with a slight limp.
    He
wore a white, button down shirt and an open blue blazer over tan slacks. A
computer case was slung over one shoulder. His hair was receding and graying,
but still mostly dark despite his sixty-odd years.
    They
made eye contact when the big man reached the crest of the bridge and the man’s
face broke into a wide grin. They greeted each other warmly on the town side of
the bridge.
    “Mac,
it’s so good to see you again.” The DDO embraced the smaller man in a bear-like
hug and then stepped back and held him by the shoulders, examining him. “You
look great–lean, mean, tanned and rested. What are you doing so far from home?
Writing a book like so many of your other detached former colleagues?” 
    Dressed
casually in blue jeans, a powder-blue polo shirt and running shoes, MacMurphy
stood just under six feet tall. He had an athletic build,