Authors: Eric Alagan
“I don't care what the judge says,” Annette clenched her fists in determination. “I'll decide who I'll stay with.”
“They can force you to â”
“They can try but I've made up my mind,” Annette grit her teeth. “I'll run away, stay with my father.”
The door to the meeting room flew open and Ms Lim and Diana strutted out. They walked past Annette and Yvonne and were engrossed in their own arguments, with their voices rising as they disappeared down the corridor.
Venkat and Michael walked out a few minutes later. Annette ran to Michael and wrapped her arms around her father to the amusement of onlookers and embarrassment of Michael.
“Paâ¦let's go home.”
Tara breezed through the Changi Airport customs and immigration. Stepping out of the diplomatic channel, she caught sight of Zain. She strutted past him, pushing her luggage trolley.
Zain quickened his steps and implored, “Hold up Tara.”
“I'm still on vacation Zain,” she continued towards the exit leading to the taxi queue.
“I know, but please Tara, wait up,” he touched her arm lightly.
She stopped, wheeled to face him and grimaced, her hand reaching for her stomach.
“Are you alright?” asked Zain. “What is it?”
She sucked in air and exhaled, “What is it Zain, I'm tired and running low on patience.”
“This wouldn't take long.” Zain looked left, right, and whispered, bringing his head close to hers. “I'm out.”
The pain in her gut made her irritable and she was short, “Out?”
“The raid on the Tuas factory was a fiasco. We found nothing,” he spoke hurriedly. “Looks like the Chinese had been alerted. Can you imagine that, nothing! Their ambassador made a formal protest, about harassment or something. Either to appease them plus you know how Lowe has been gunning for me â”
“Surely you must have guessed that he would have shot off his mouth and Simonov would have alerted them?” Then exhaling sharply, she asked, “You're the sacrificial lamb?”
“Yes.”
“What will you do?”
“Oh, I don't know. Perhaps finish the mini Haj with my wife,” he glanced around him. “Then, I suppose I'll become more active in grassroots work at the mosque.”
A small smile broke Tara's lips, “Doesn't sound like retirement to me.”
Zain returned her smile, looked at his feet, but lost his smile at her next question.
“Who's your replacement?” Tara saw the look on Zain's face. “Shit! Colin Lowe?”
“I'm afraid he's the leading candidate. Shadowy hands are pushing for him and even Lee has gone silent.”
“Yes, there seem to be shadowy hands everywhere, even with your retirement plans. When is he due back?”
“In a couple of days or so,” Zain leaned closer and whispered. “One more thing, Ben has gone missing.”
Tara remained expressionless other than saying, “Oh?”
Interestingly, Zain did not pursue the matter but continued in his low hurried voice, “My last day is this Friday. I won't be around when you return.”
“We'll catch up for a drink or something,” Tara patted Zain's arm and strode away.
“Yesâ¦sureâ¦or something,” Zain murmured to himself and watched her disappear through the door.
Chapter 49
Tara stood away from the people who shared the car with her. The two couples were engrossed more in their partners than the panoramic views accorded by the Singapore Flyer. She studied them from the corner of her eyes and satisfied, she turned her attention to her target.
The middle-aged tourist wore khaki shorts and shirt with buttoned-down pockets. On his feet were new brown tracking shoes and khaki socks. A matching cloth hat on his head and a pair of dark shades covered his face. A heavy camera with extra-long lenses hung around his neck.
The tourist inched along the edge of the car, moving towards her and holding the camera to his eyes and clicking intermittently.
Tara crooked a tiny smile and gazed out the gently swaying enclosure, keeping the tourist in view through the faint reflection in the glass. She took her camera phone out of her back pocket and snapped a couple of shots.
“Excuse me miss,” said the tourist, a smile on his face. “You dropped this.” He held out a tissue pack.
“Oh, thank you,” Tara smiled and retrieved the little packet.
The man stood next to her, took in the skyline and remarked, “Nice day.”
“You look ridiculous,” Tara spoke. Her lips remained parted but did not move.
“Laugh all you like but I've used this getup many times and even the taxi drivers greet me with
ohayou gozaimasu
.”
They continued to look out the car as the Ferris wheel rotated slowly. Tara kept her eyes on the two couples, through reflections on the glass panes.
“Found a driver?” Tara hardly moved her lips as she spoke.
The tourist held his camera to his eyes and snapped a couple of shots, “Yes, an Indian national. We'll charge him, due process, but after the conviction, instead of Changi Prison he'll end up in Changi Airport with a fat pay cheque.”
Tara got a glimpse of the impressive zoom lens. She spoke, wearing a deadpan face,
“Lee, you'll make a better impression as a Japanese tourist if you removed the cover from the zoom.”
“What? Oops!” For a tiny moment, Lee lost his composure. He removed the black cover and tried to look nonchalant as he slipped the offending piece of plastic into his trouser pocket.
“Relax Lee, our neighbours are busy sucking each other's faces,” she continued to speak in undertones. Her eyes gazed far. “The cadaver?”
“Your friend, Lowe came through on that one,” Lee exhaled as he continued. “Obviously he gave a song and dance about how he convinced his new friends in Moscow, squeezed every bit of juice out of it.”
“I reckon Simonov would've been glad to rid himself of her body. None of the press releases mentioned the woman.”
“That's right. They would rather deal with us than Beijing.”
“Ying has a son.” Tara's voice trailed off.
“All taken care of,” assured Lee. “The family who babysits the boy is eager to adopt him and Social Welfare has arranged for a monthly allowance till he comes of age.”
“What about the Chinese government and her family in China?”
“She entered the country using a false passportâ¦we're not exactly trying to locate her true identity. Their government doesn't know and with one point two billion people, probably doesn't give a damn.”
Their car stopped at the exit platform. Tara and Lee waited for the two couples to disembark before taking up the rear. They lingered, saw the couples go away in different directions.
“See you in thirty minutes.”
Lee headed for the taxi stand, while Tara took the elevator to the underground car park to pick up her hire-car, a metallic grey Jaguar convertible.
By the time Reginald Lee got to the Japanese Gardens in Jurong, Tara was already waiting for him. She had taken the patio on a small hillock that offered a sweeping view of the Japanese and Chinese Gardens, situated on two man-made islands in Jurong Lake.
She saw him enter the side entrance and walk along the winding footpath towards the patio. Her hair tied in a high bun and a wide brimmed sunshade served to cover most of her face.
The permanent secretary settled in the circular stone bench opposite her and fanned himself with his cloth hat, “Phew! It's really humid.” He puffed his cheeks and blew out a soft jet of air, “The heat and humidity doesn't seem to bother you, though you've spent the last two years in Moscow.”
Tara did not respond, waited a few minutes to let him cool down and gather himself. “Where is the cadaver and who'll do the transplant?”
Lee wiped his face with a handkerchief for the umpteenth time.
“She lies in the KoolHaus with your â,” the middle-aged man broke off, embarrassed and apologetic. Then he continued,
“We've got a third year medical student to do it as part of her training, what they call an
elective
. She'll be working alone but her report will be viewed by Dr Ling.”
“Who is Dr Ling?”
“You're speaking to him.” Lee continued to gaze out to the bright hot undulating terrain. “Why Lim Chu Kang? I know it's secluded on weekday afternoons but there are other equally quiet places. It's also too close to the airbase.”
“Precisely. We need their fire services to be on site before the body burns right through.”
He mulled Tara's observations and re-joined, “Understood. I'll arrange for high-waist panties made of flame retardant fabric. That should give the insides a few more minutes. And I'll arrange with the base commander for an in-house fire exercise. That'll have the men and equipment mobilised.” Lee removed his sunglasses and smiled, “Leave it all to me.”
“That microchip I found imbedded in my uterus?”
“Yes, extremely high-tech,” said the man from PMO. “Even puzzled our lab boys but we got some help from the Americans. It's very high-tech indeed and emits signals that only extremely sensitive sensors can pick up. It transmits in the same frequency band as Russian military satellites. They've been tracking your movements since you left Lubyanka. The power source for the micro transmitter apparently works on the same principle as a wet cell battery, but uses body fluids as an electrolyte for recharging.”
Tara held out her hand, “Do you have it?”
“Here,” Lee handed her the chip. “Apparently it taps the minute electric charges in the human body to activate the electrolyte. It's more than fifth generation electronics and is leaps and bounds beyond anything that even the Americans have.”
Tara turned the chip between her finger and thumb and mused, “It has worked out quite well really. The chip had travelled to the labs in Fusionpolis, the DEA office in Singapore, Phoenix Park â all the places one would expect a narcotics agent to visit.”
“How about the visit to the Bangkok clinic? The Russians would know,” observed Lee.
“Simonov of all people knows of my bleeding condition and that doctor is an O&B,” replied Tara and sighed. “Anyway, the American report reckons it's rechargeable for between twelve to fifteen times, dies off after thirty days.” Tara slipped the chip into her pocket and turned to face Lee, to gauge whether he read the implications.
He did. “The Russians picked you up on the 16th. That leaves another fifteen days. They hope to bump you off by that time?”
“Looks like it,” Tara's voice betrayed no emotion and was steady and measured. “What about Australia?”
“It's all arranged. The owner, Mark Granger, is a retiree and it's more of a hobby farm. About fifty acres. He runs a couple of cattle, horses and even pigs. Lives by himself.”
“I meant, what about communications?”
“Satellite phone, wireless Internet. Our people in Optus have given us a secure tunnel.” Then Lee leaned forward,
“Granger must not know about this. Remember, it's a small community there and everyone gets to know about everything. If you need to make regular calls, do what Granger does. Take a drive to the nearest town, about twenty kilometres away.”
“The cabinet changes are all over the news,” Tara stared at him from behind her dark glasses.
“I was coming to that,” Lee cleared his throat, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Steven is pushed up, coordinating minister for security, my new boss.”
“
Your boss
?” Tara removed the sunglasses. Her grey eyes shimmered in the reflected glare of the heat. “You're staying on as protocol boss? I heard you were retiring.”
“It's the one and the same. I retire from PMO, take up a research fellowship in the Yushof Ishak Institute of Foreign Studies and write a book.”
“Gives you plenty of time for your day job.”
“You got it.” Lee's voice was soft.
“I got a note from Uncle Smiley, Cryptic as usual. He has also moved along?”
“Well, consider yourself honoured that he informed you. Obviously, I knew about his pending retirement but he didn't inform anyone in the office. I heard later that on his last day, he worked late as usual. The next morning when the staff arrived, they saw his office cleaned and tidy. He had removed all his personal effects and disappearedâ¦Spent decades there and left no traces that he ever existed. He was really weird.”
“You know that I never met him,” said Tara. “Sometimes I wondered whether he actually existed.”
“Oh, he existed all right. Sulky old bugger but had the sharpest mind I ever met. When it came to unearthing secrets, he was the original ferret,” Lee sighed. “I always felt uncomfortable in his presence but now that he's gone, I'm actually missing him.”
“You'll find a new lover.” Tara continued without missing a beat, “Who'll be my new handler?”
“I'm working on that Tara,” said Lee as he got up. “Your handler will call youâ¦provided you don't get yourself killed first.”
“I'll try not to disappoint you. One last matter Lee,” Tara remained seated, looked away and continued to speak under her breath.
“There is an application for an employment pass from a Tania Chernysheva. She wants to work in one of our casinos. Let her through.”
“Tania Chernysheva?” Lee scratched his chin and his eyes widened, “Benjamin Logan â”
“That's the one. He sponsored her application.”
“A mole?”
Tara nodded.
Chapter 50
The taxi dropped Tara off in the secluded stretch that was Lim Chu Kang Road. A wooden signboard that read
GuM Veggies
identified the farm, one of a handful in the city-state. GuM Veggies, an acronym for genetically unmodified vegetables, belonged to a retired police officer.
It was a hot afternoon and somewhere a dog barked. Insects buzzed in the bushes that lined the narrow path leading to the cluster of farmhouses and work sheds. Under nets, the mesh density selected to regulate the amount of sunlight through, neat stacks of vegetable trenches suspended from stainless steel wires. Water gurgled through the length of the hydroponic farm. Somewhere in the background, a pump whirred monotonously.