Indonesian Gold (14 page)

‘I would have thought that there would be strong, American
interest in the Philippines, considering the historical ties?'

‘Not so,' she explained, ‘at least not in the mining
sector. Yes, American companies have established substantial trading ties with our country, but
most of this is product based, not resource investment.' She paused to eat, sipping tea before
continuing. ‘Frankly, I found it so frustrating, I finally withdrew from the promotional
tours.'

‘And now?' he asked.

Sharon
pulled a face. ‘Needed
to do some shopping. Manila's department stores aren't exactly up there with Saks. The mining
conference provided the opportunity, that's all.' Campbell was reminded of the magnificent
cocktail dress he had soiled.

‘I meant, what keeps you occupied when you're at home?' he
pried.

Sharon
smiled demurely. ‘Do
you mean am I married?'

Campbell
laughed. ‘Yes,
something like that. As it would seem that you know considerably more about me, I think it only
fair you reveal all your dark secrets.'

‘Why would these necessarily be dark?' she
countered.

‘Perhaps I should have said, ‘mysterious'?' He was
enjoying the banter.

It was Sharon's turn to laugh. ‘Don't you think that a
little mystique keeps the men guessing?' At that moment their waiter appeared, saving her from
having to elaborate. He divided the remaining fish carefully, and then withdrew.

‘When do you return to Manila?' Campbell wanted to
know.

‘Tomorrow,' was her brief reply.

‘Back to work?'

‘No,' Sharon responded, affecting a touch of weariness in
her voice. ‘Let's not talk shop anymore. Agreed?'

‘Fine by me,' he promised. ‘Would you like anything
else?'

Sharon
shook her head. ‘No.
I'd like to return to the hotel now if you don't mind.' She paused, observing Campbell's
disappointment then added, ‘We could have a nightcap back in the room, if you wish.' The
invitation clearly raised his spirits.

‘Then what are we still doing here?' Campbell settled the
bill as quickly as protocol would permit, and escorted his beautiful companion back down to the
lobby where they caught a taxi to the Grand Hyatt.

* * * *

Stewart Campbell placed his arm around Sharon's shoulders
and pulled her gently towards him. She did not resist, turning to face him with willing lips and
they kissed, the warmth of the exchange and her intoxicating perfume sending exotic signals
through to his loins. His hand moved to her firm breasts, their fullness exciting him even
more.

‘Not here,' she pulled away, taking his hands in hers, the
blood beating loudly in Campbell's ears. Neither spoke during the remaining ride, their silence
maintained even after they had entered Sharon's suite where they immediately embraced, undressing
each other with impatient passion before collapsing to the thickly carpeted floor.

Stewart was in no way disappointed when his eyes fell upon
Sharon's naked figure, the soft curves and light brown skin accentuating her beauty. His hands
groped her breasts, squeezing her erect nipples roughly and Sharon cried out, biting his lip with
the pain. With the taste of blood in their mouths they remained locked, their sexual frenzy
driving them together and they coupled, naturally, Campbell's length penetrating her so deeply
she cried out, again, lifting her knees high and wide as he moved within her. She felt one hand
slide down through the soft mound between her legs, the touch of his fingers causing Sharon to
writhe uncontrollably as he continued to thrust with growing urgency. The tempo grew, their
bodies rocking together wildly until Campbell's hot, rhythmic moans triggered warm ripples which
rose from deep inside her womb and she gasped, her own spasms in concert with his, their climax
sending sensuous waves flooding through their bodies. In those few, brief, but delirious moments,
they floated together, the warmth of his ejaculation causing Sharon to shudder. Then he sighed,
heavily, totally spent.

They remained embraced, each slowly slipping back from the
sexual summit they had just climbed, their heartbeats gradually slowing as they lay there, lost
in the afterglow. Sharon shivered involuntarily as the air conditioner spilled tons of cold air
into the room and Stewart rolled to one side, this time gently caressing her still erect nipples
with his tongue, bringing a murmur of delight to her lips.

‘Enough,' she pleaded, kissing him tenderly on the
shoulder. ‘I'm freezing!' With that, Sharon rose slowly and made her way to the bathroom,
reappearing shortly after wearing a pink, toweling dressing gown. ‘Are you staying?' she asked,
lighting her second cigarette for the evening, drawing heavily as she did so. In the dim light
Stewart could see the end glow, wondering how offended she might be if he elected to sleep in his
own bed.

‘I'll stay if you want me to,' he said, gathering his
clothing. He felt foolish standing there naked, but did not wish to dress until the matter of
where he would spend the night had been resolved.

‘I'm okay,' Sharon told him. ‘We could have breakfast
together by the pool?'

Relieved, Stewart dressed and went to her side. ‘We could
have breakfast here instead,' he suggested, bending down to kiss her softly on the
forehead.

‘I'd prefer it at the pool. Besides, I always take an
early swim.'

‘Then the pool it is,' he agreed, ‘give me a ring when you
are ready. Okay?'

‘I'll meet you there after eight,' she promised, reaching
up and dragging his mouth to hers. Reluctantly, he responded, the lingering smell of cigarette
smoke on her breath spoiling the moment.

****

Sharon
lay back on the sofa
thinking about her brief interlude with the American. She had not misled her temporary lover with
respect to her having initiated inquiries regarding his availability to work in the Philippines.
In fact, Sharon Ducay had spent considerable time and effort investigating Stewart, before
arriving at the conclusion that he would not be acceptable for the project that she and her uncle
had in mind. General consensus supported her assessment of the well-known expatriate geologist.
Stewart Campbell was far too much of an idealist to willingly become involved in anything like
what she and the General had planned. Their meeting had been coincidental. Sharon's purpose in
attending the conference was to hold discussions with Alexander Kremenchug but, as a last minute
change in his plans prevented their introduction, she had decided to stay the day and shop.
Meeting the handsome Campbell had merely been a bonus. As she lay stretched out on the
well-cushioned sofa, Sharon's hand dropped to the soft, dark mound between her thighs and she
closed her eyes, conjuring up Stewart's firm body in her mind, as she stroked herself
gently.

****

Stewart Campbell came alive to the eight o'clock wake-up
call, showered, dressed for the swimming pool and then rode the lift down twelve floors to the
scenic setting. Coconut trees hung over the pool area providing questionable shade, and Stewart
settled down with a fruit juice waiting for Sharon to appear.

At eight forty-five he knew she had overslept; by nine
o'clock he had returned to his room, disappointed, when the hotel reception's informed him that
Miss Sharon Ducay had checked out at seven and returned to the Philippines without so much as
leaving him a note.

****

‘I have Chris here with me now, Eric, and he is rightfully
pissed. The drilling results bear no fucking resemblance to the first survey report you sent
him!'

Alex Kremenchug's vitriolic outburst was expected, the
party listening at the other end nonchalantly lighting a
kretek
cigarette as he played out
the scene, permitting Kremenchug's tirade to appear genuine.

‘Mine wasn't a full survey,' Eric Baird's defensive voice
could be heard on the speaker-phone. ‘Had I been given the necessary funds, I could have provided
an extensive drilling survey report.'

‘It's just not good enough, Eric,' Kremenchug complained,
deep furrows creasing his brow. ‘Shit, Eric!' he added for additional emphasis, ‘how could you
have been so fucking far off with this?'

This comment, as it had not been rehearsed, was met with
dumb response. Baird, sitting in the Jakarta apartment that he shared with an advertising
executive, suddenly lost his place in the conversation. He checked his notes, taken off an
earlier and recorded exchange between him and Alex Kremenchug.

‘Are you still there?' Kremenchug's voice bellowed down
through the line. An echo repeated his aggressive demand, the final words ‘there, there, there'
reverberating annoyingly through the speakers in the mining company's Vancouver
office.

‘Shit,' Kremenchug shouted, this too echoing from ground
to satellite, then back to an earth station near the Indonesian capital sending Eric Baird the
message, ‘shit, shit, shit' as the geologist responsible for the fabricated report started to
panic.

‘Now, wait a minute,' Baird started to argue, the time
lapse between the parties creating the misunderstanding. He was interrupted by the unfamiliar
voice of the Canadian company's chief geologist, and Chairman, on the speakerphone.

‘Eric,' the hollow sound bounced around the apartment as
Baird gathered his thoughts. Speaking directly to Christopher Fielding had not been part of their
plan. ‘Eric, this is Chris Fielding,' the distorted voice claimed.

‘Hello, hello?' Baird continued to panic, wondering if he
should hang up and claim later that they had been cut off.

‘Eric,' Fielding tried again, ‘it's Chris Fielding. Can
you hear me?'

Of course, Baird could hear him. He just did not wish to
be dragged into a conversation without knowing what he was supposed to say. ‘Hello, hello?' he
feigned again, ‘is that still you, Alex?'

Kremenchug
realized what had
happened, silently admonishing himself for his own stupidity in deviating from the rehearsed
dialogue. He moved quickly to circumvent any possible misinterpretation by Fielding.

‘Eric,' he spoke intermittently, enunciating carefully as
if atmospherics were, indeed, the problem, the show entirely for Fielding's benefit. ‘I think the
problem is here, with the speaker system.' He turned to Fielding, his face covered with the most
serious of expressions.

‘I...am...going....to…turn....it...off..okay?'

Baird understood immediately, the conversation then taking
a dramatic turn.

‘Eric?' Kremenchug asked. ‘Eric. Is this
clearer?'

‘Can Fielding hear me?

‘No? Then wait a moment and I will check the receiver
here.'

‘What's this shit about being off with the
survey?'

‘That's good. Yes, I can hear you clearly now.'

‘What do you want me to say for Chrissakes?' This, from
the Jakarta end where Baird was now sitting with his legs sprawled across a divan, his
kretek
cigarette hanging carelessly from his fingers and in danger of burning the plastic
head-cover, which had never been removed since delivery.

‘Eric, can you give Vancouver any additional information
which would support the earlier survey?' Kremenchug manipulated the conversation as was
necessary.

‘Are you
sure
that Fielding can't hear me?' Baird
asked, worried, ignoring the question.

‘No!' Kremenchug responded flatly.

‘Then go and fuck yourself, Alex!' Baird yelled into the
phone, his Bacardi- influenced bravado tipping him over the edge. At the other end of the line
Kremenchug stood speechless. With a click of his tongue, he turned to the Canadian mining
executive, shrugged his shoulders then hung up.

‘We lost the connection,' Kremenchug lied.

****

Since their first meeting in Jakarta, two and a half years
before, the company had been floated, successfully raising several millions from the Canadian
public. In fact, the offer had been oversubscribed, such was the interest for mining companies
with Indonesian gold prospects and, as the Borneo Gold Corporation boasted several of these
within the Kalimantan provinces, stockholder funds filled the subscription offer within an hour
of the company being listed on the Canadian Exchange.

Initially, Christopher Fielding had commissioned a more
detailed survey of the Palangkaraya alluvial leases, but the findings were not significant. The
following year, the BGC President had then decided to embark on a comprehensive drilling program
of their East Kalimantan areas, the results causing the stock to fall to less than half their par
value once overall results had been revealed to the market. The disappointing results left the
fledgling mining corporation with few funds and questionable capacity to raise further capital.
Christopher Fielding again found himself fighting off creditors, his occasional consultancy
contracts subsidizing his half-salary-income paid by the near-insolvent company.