Indonesian Gold (30 page)

‘Do you know the owners?'

‘No, Pak, I don't'
Baird replied, lamely.
‘That's another reason why some companies establish subsidiary
interests in these tax havens, so that no one can determine just who they are.'

‘Are they involved with drugs?'

‘No, Pak, No!'
Baird
responded, vehemently.
‘This is a legitimate mining operator wanting to build an interest in
Indonesia.'

‘How do you know this to be true, if you can't tell me
who the owners are?'
Subroto challenged, suspicious of anything
he did not understand.

‘Because the company's documentation was stamped by the
Indonesian Consulate over there.'
Baird had asked that the letter
of appointment and other relative correspondence be affirmed as originals by the Honorary
Indonesian Consul, in Port of Spain, Trinidad as the Republic had no representation in the
BVI.

‘There must be someone you communicate with?'

‘It's another Canadian group,'
he revealed, steeling himself for what most certainly would follow.

‘Kremenchug?'
Subroto's
roar bounced off the walls.
‘Does Kremenchug have anything to do with Dominion
Mining?'

Eric Baird crossed, then immediately unfolded his legs
realizing that Subroto might find this offensive. He had hoped that Kremenchug's involvement
could be disguised somehow but, in the absence of any other name, he had no choice.

‘All I know, Pak, is that Kremenchug introduced the
Dominion party, that's all.'

‘Sialan, Eric,'
Subroto
cursed, slamming the desk with a heavy hand, rising from his seat in anger.
‘I forbid you to
have anything more to do with this group!'

‘But, Pak!'
Baird
implored, panic rising,
‘I have already received an advance payment for the work they want
done!'

Subroto's anger caused his cheeks to quiver.
‘Why
didn't you seek my permission first, before accepting anything from that bangsat?'

Baird avoided Subroto's eyes.
‘I needed the money,
Pak,'
he justified, fidgeting his hands and adjusting his seat on the chair.

For a few moments nothing was said between the two men,
the air heavy with unspoken recriminations. Baird had hoped that by now, his association with the
retired and influential air force General would have created far more opportunities than what had
materialized over the past years. As for Subroto, his roller-coaster ride as an entrepreneur had
not been what he had imagined – his disappointment with Baird, further exacerbated by this most
recent revelation that Kremenchug had somehow managed to manipulate his way back into promoting
mining ventures within Indonesia.

‘How much has he paid you?'
Subroto asked.

‘The money didn't come from Kremenchug,'
Baird pointed out.

‘Then, how much has Dominion Mining paid you?'

Baird did not hesitate.
‘Fifty Thousand dollars to
secure their concession.'

‘Fifty Thousand?'
Subroto's eyes widened.

‘Yes, Pak,'
Baird's
relief was instant, observing his senior partner's reaction to the figure.
‘And, we will be
involved in the drilling program,'
he added.

‘What happened to the Fifty Thousand?'

‘I had to pay half to the bastards down at the Mines
Department,'
he lied
.‘I've got the rest in my account. I was
going to use that for…'

Suddenly, Subroto's face broke from ear to ear.
‘To get
married?'

Baird paled immediately.
‘Pipi is a wonderful
lady,'
he stammered,
‘and I think very highly of her.'
He was about to explain that he
hoped to use the money to find more suitable accommodations when Sub-roto sprang.

‘Wonderful, Eric!'
he
rose, his pear shaped body rippling as body fat

gravitated and rebalanced,
‘Have you decided on a
date?'

Baird was instantly gripped with anxiety as Subroto leaned
across his desk, one bulbous hand supporting his huge weight, the other extended in
congratulations. Baird stood speechless, his mouth as dry as a wind-swept desert unable to offer
the words that could rectify this dreadful misunderstanding. His eyes fell to Subroto's chubby
fingers; dismayed when his own hand, as if of its own volition, rose to the occasion.

‘N…no, Pak, we haven't… not yet!'
he stammered, casting a furtive look towards the door, but knew there was no
escape.

‘Wait here!'
Subroto
ordered, forcing his bulk between desk and chair as he exited the office with surprising speed.
Moments later the room filled with staff following Pipi's uncle's announcement. Baird, not yet
recovered from the shock of his predicament, grinned sickly as, one by one, they offered their
felicitations.

‘Where's the lucky girl?'
someone shouted happily, sending both secretaries scrambling for the phone.

‘I am so very proud of you, Eric,'
Subroto placed a heavy arm around Baird's frail shoulders.
‘Pipi and all
of the family will be so pleased!'

Baird, engulfed with the enormity of what was happening,
lost his balance as the room began to swim before his eyes. Before he knew what had transpired,
Baird found himself stretched out on the air force General's sofa, with one of the staff
administering a cold washer to his face.

‘You fainted!'
the girl
giggled, turning to the concerned group standing quietly, blocking the doorway.

Baird blinked a number of times, frowned, rose to a
sitting position and gazed at the familiar faces, then bent forward and threw up over the
General's carpet.

* * * *

Summoned by Subroto, when Pipi Suhartono arrived within
the hour awash with tears of joy, she formally kissed her fiancée on the cheek then promptly
disappeared to inform friends and relatives, across the country. Baird, shocked to a state of
anesthesia, was driven to his apartment where Mardidi took charge, unaware of what had transpired
until a late afternoon call from Pipi revealed all, Mardidi's threats to suicide if Baird went
through with it casting a gloom of morbid finality across their world.

****

Alexander Kremenchug patted his forehead with a saturated
handkerchief, cursing the stiflingly hot, humid reception, and the fact that the airconditioning
had remained in a state of disrepair since his visit in January. He strolled slowly across to
where he now knew from experience he would find his luggage, and tipped one of the porters to
carry his suitcase through immigration and customs. When he approached the officious-looking
officer, the man's face suddenly broke into a wide, beaming smile.

‘Mabuhay, Mister Kremenchug,'
the man welcomed, stamping his passport without examining the accompanying, complicated
forms. Within minutes, he had completed the formalities, and was whisked through the VIP section
where Sharon Ducay waited.

‘Welcome back, Alexander,' she offered her cheek, and
Kremenchug obliged. ‘How was the flight?' Kremenchug's eyes traveled the length of her body,
marveling at her beauty as she stepped away and issued instructions to the porter. Then, he
recalled the trick she had pulled, and her justification for doing so.

‘From Vancouver to Hong Kong, like it would never end; the
last leg, a little rough coming in but, apart from that, nothing to complain about.'

‘I see you've not lost your tan,' Sharon
observed.

‘Canadian skiing – and the slopes were virtually
empty.'

‘How long can you stay?'

‘If it's okay, I'd like to leave by the weekend.' He
flashed recently capped teeth and placed one hand nonchalantly in a trousers' pocket. ‘How is the
General?'

Sharon
had already moved
towards the exit. ‘He is very keen to catch up, Alex. His health is reasonable, for a man of his
age, but I would not overtire him with lengthy discussions.'

Kremenchug
understood,
shifting the conversation as they entered the waiting Mercedes. ‘The place seems to be more
festive than when I was here last?'

Sharon
nodded. ‘It's
practically Easter. With more than eighty-percent of our population Catholic, the celebrations
will be intense. Over the next week we'll have everything from re-enactments of the Crucifixion
to mass flagellation – another of Spain's lasting legacies.' She looked over at her guest. ‘I
know that it's considered impolite to ask, but are you, by chance, also Catholic?'

Kremenchug
laughed softly.
‘Yes, and no.' His family had been communists; he had never stepped inside a church other than
out of curiosity and, out of habit, had responded in a manner that might give him some edge. ‘I
was born into a Catholic family.' He hesitated, groping for an acceptable explanation. ‘When I
migrated to Australia, I just didn't continue with church. That's all.'

‘Once a Catholic…' Sharon removed her long, pastel green
gloves and touched his arm gently. ‘Perhaps you would accompany us to mass while you are
here?'

Kremenchug
became uneasy with
this thought. ‘Sure, I'd be delighted,' he found himself saying. Then, looking to deflect further
conversation along these lines, inappropriately broached the subject of their project. ‘I trust
that the General is pleased with the BGC developments?'

Sharon
shot him a warning
look, shaking her head, admonishing Kremenchug for his slip in the presence of the driver. They
then continued with their journey to General Dominguez's home, in silence.

****

‘Ah, Alexander, we have been waiting for you to return,'
the General greeted Kremenchug warmly. ‘Sharon informs me that you have been most successful in
your endeavors.'

Sharon
lifted a glass from the
polished, silver tray as Alfredo moved forward offering drinks.

‘Yes, General,' Kremenchug felt uncomfortable dressed in
the white,
Barong Tagalog
Sharon had left in his rooms with a note that he might wish to
try the traditional Filipino shirt. ‘The project is moving ahead smoothly.' He glanced over at
Sharon. ‘Thanks to your niece's planning.'

Dominguez choked on his wine. When he recovered, he moved
to Kremenchug's side and gripped his upper arm then shook it playfully. ‘She is very clever,' he
said, eyes twinkling brightly.

‘Now, General,' Sharon's voice carried a noticeable
warmth. ‘We must give Alex most of the credit.'

‘Nonsense,' Kremenchug responded, obviously pleased. ‘It
wasn't all that difficult.' Sharon led her uncle to his favorite chair then took a seat
alongside, waiting for Alfredo to disappear.

‘Might be an appropriate time to brief the General on
where we're at, Alex.'

Kremenchug
noted the change in
her tone and nodded, leaning forward with clasped hands as he cleared his throat.

‘Well, you know most of it already, Sharon. At this point
in time everything has been agreed, subject to a number of requirements being met. BGC
shareholders will still have to be given the opportunity to vote on acquiring Dominion Mining's
Indonesian leases, and support the company's proposed restructure. But, as far as we are
concerned, that will only be a formality once you have proven up the value of the
leases.'

‘Where does that leave us now?' she asked, mainly for the
General's benefit so that he could hear it all, first hand, from Kremenchug.

‘As I suggested, we can safely assume that the
shareholders will agree. The original stockholders will retain around forty-five percent of BGC,
the remaining stock will be issued to your nominees and, of course, twenty percent of that value,
or eleven percent, will be mine.'

‘What about the options?'

‘That will be set as part of the overall
proposal.'

‘So, effectively, full control?'

‘Yes.'

Sharon
lit a cigarette then
blew a cloud of smoke into the air, before continuing. ‘Your man over there did well to have the
initial survey license issued so quickly.'

‘He had the funds to get it done,' Kremenchug offered,
matter-of-factly. ‘Will you go to Jakarta to oversee the mobilization?'

Her face became serious. ‘No. I'll go into Samarinda once
the drilling team and the equipment is loaded and ready to move up the Mahakam. I intend keeping
a very tight rein on this operation, Alex. Everything depends on what happens next, in the field.
I will wait until the rigs, equipment, personnel and all supplies are in Samarinda before I
arrive.'