Indonesian Gold (53 page)

‘Will that include the President?' Phil Samuels
asked.

The chairman shook his head. ‘The old man's English is
poor. Besides, he leaves all business discussions for the children to resolve.'

‘What if they don't accept our offer?'

The retired statesman smiled. ‘They'll agree. What we are
suggesting is a far greater share than their customary ten percent would generate. I don't
anticipate you'll have too much difficulty in persuading them to go with our deal. Besides, who
in their right minds would refuse fifteen percent of a six trillion dollar asset?'

Samuels did not share the chairman's confidence. In his
fifteen years consulting to the mining industry he had seen less complex deals fail to
materialize. Baron Mining's impressive Board consisted of highly respected entities from amongst
the mining fraternity, and also boasted both American and Canadian former heads of state.
Although this represented a powerful mix on any continent and it was this assembly of wealth and
power he would take to the table in Jakarta, Samuels felt uneasy in negotiating with the
Indonesians without some local support, other than that of the American Embassy.

Recently invited to join this august group's Board of
Directors, Phillip Samuels had discovered that potential conflict of interests required he
reassess many old allegiances, and professional relationships forged during his years as an
independent consultant. Amongst these, a friend from college days with whom he had worked for
more than a decade, Stewart Campbell, whose knowledge of the Indonesian mining sector had
indirectly assisted Samuels' climb up the corporate ladder. Now charged with the responsibility
of sealing what amounted to the largest corporate deal in mining history, he was not only unable
to utilize Campbell's unique industry and language skills, but was also obliged to exclude him
completely from the information loop.

The decision to attempt to supplant Borneo Gold
Corporation as the foreign operator to the Indonesian Government had been based on the premise
that BGC's contract to mine had yet to be ratified by Jakarta. When the Vancouver Stock Exchange
had queried BGC's position, precipitating this alarming disclosure, Baron Mining's chairman did
not hesitate. He called his fellow director at the former United States President's ranch in
Texas, to determine what pressure could be applied to secure control over the Longdamai
discovery. Samuels was aware of the powerful links that had been forged between past American
Administrations and the Suharto dictatorship. Freeport's West Irian operations enjoyed similar
support, with both the Indonesian First Family and Henry Kissinger influencing decisions at the
highest level; Samuels prepared to offer similar shareholdings in the proposed Longdamai
takeover, on behalf of Baron Mining, in order to supplant BGC.

‘Well, that's it then, Phil,' the Baron Mining chairman
rose, terminating their meeting. ‘Don't give them anything more than we absolutely have
to.'

Phil Samuels departed for Indonesia, returning before the
week was out to confirm that he had acquired an ‘in principle' agreement for Baron Mining to
assume control over the Longdamai gold concession. He had not met with members of the First
Family, as expected. Instead, he was introduced to a powerful Chinese
cukong,
who had been
delegated the responsibility of negotiating on behalf of Palace interests.

The deal that was struck guaranteed Baron Mining control
over P.T. Kalimantan Gold in consideration for twenty percent of all revenue and stock in the
operation, to be assigned to the President's offshore nominees. Phil Samuels then set about
planning for an interim team to take over P.T. Kalimantan Gold's Longdamai operations, while
Jakarta-vested interests initiated steps to encourage the Borneo Gold Corporation to surrender
the Longdamai concessions, to Baron Mining.

 

****

Indonesia
Longdamai Sial Mining Site

Having returned from early morning exercises and a
bucket-fed shower, still dressed in a sarong, Angela re-entered her cramped quarters and prepared
for her customary moment of meditation, just as the first cock crowed. She unrolled a small,
tikar
mat over a treated canvas ground cover then lit an incense stick, placing this
carefully in a minute, ceramic holder, one she had carried since first departing her village to
study in Bandung. Crouching forward on bent knees, she placed the smoldering, aromatic incense on
the woven mat then clasped her hands together and, with eyes closed, continued the ritual, with
synchronized breathing exercises. As her mind cleared, Angela slipped quietly into trancelike
state where she remained, until some rehearsed signal triggered her return and she awoke,
refreshed, cleansed, and ready for prayer.

Crouched in solemn silence and supplication, Angela sought
the understanding of her ancestral spirits for her presence at this most holy of places, and
direction in how to deal with those who had desecrated this site. With her head bent in prayer,
she could sense her father's reassuring presence nearby, her lips moving in silent chant as she
pleaded for the spirits to watch over them both and, as an afterthought, she included Stewart
Campbell's name on her list. With growing camp activity encroaching upon her thoughts Angela
completed her ritual, and prepared to dress.

As a precaution against scorpions and smaller snakes,
Angela Dau banged her knee-high, laced leather-boots against the steel framed, folding bed,
peered inside with the aid of a torch just to make sure, then finished dressing. She buttoned a
collarless, long sleeve cotton shirt, tucked her jeans inside the boots and, without the aid of a
mirror brushed her long, black hair back into a ponytail. Before leaving her tent to attend the
onsite briefing with P.T. Kalimantan Gold management, Angela strapped an army hunting knife
around her waist, donned a baseball cap, then checked that her personal belongings were safely
locked away. Satisfied with her routine, she then ventured outside in search of Mardidi who, much
to Eric Baird's chagrin, had been seconded as her personal aide.

In the week since her arrival, Angela had grown somewhat
ambivalent towards the expatriate drillers and their lecherous looks. As for Sharon Ducay, the
Filipino Chief of Operations, from the moment Angela had first set foot in the camp their
relationship had been less than lukewarm. She took Sharon Ducay's perceived, professional
resentment to her presence in stride, unaware of the underlying reason for the Filipino's pique.
After observing Ducay at work and learning what had been achieved at the Longdamai field under
her supervision, Angela accepted that the other woman was, indeed, deserving of her enviable
reputation and decided to establish rapport in some way.

Of all the foreigners, only Eric Baird appeared
cooperative and, although friendly, Angela remained cool as she set about establishing her team
under the suspicious eyes of the Madurese migrant workers.

****

Angela's team of three had been given explicit
instructions as to what the Ministry required of them. Her two associates, both experienced
geologists who had worked with the government-owned gold mines in Cikotok in West Java, were
ethnic
Bataks
from Sumatra. She had positioned each of the experts on mining sites further
downstream to report on the spread of illegal mining operators along the Mahakam. They maintained
contact via scheduled, daily radio transmissions, linked through the mining camp's network, each
charged with the responsibility to maintain their own base of operations, reporting directly to
Angela. Now, with one week on site already behind her, she was anxious to visit her village and
planned to do so, that day. As she made her way down to the general mess where cooks busied
themselves preparing breakfast for the foreigners, she spotted Mardidi hurrying towards
her.

‘Selamat pagi, non,'
he
greeted,
‘would you like me to prepare some bubur for you?'

Angela had mentioned that she preferred the traditional
porridge dish to what the foreigners were offered at breakfast.
‘Terima kasih, ‘Di,'
she
thanked him,
‘but not too much as I'm going out on the river this morning.'

Mardidi immediately became tense.
‘Must I go with
you?'
he asked.

Angela suppressed a smile.
‘No,‘Di, I will go
alone.'

‘Alone?'
he asked,
shocked.
‘I'll go, non, if you wish?'
he offered, but with tongue in cheek.
‘It's okay,
‘Di,'
Angela put him at ease,
‘I can handle the speedboat, by myself.'

‘But, what if you break down?'
he insisted.

‘Don't worry, ‘Di,'
she
patted the knife at her waist,
‘I'll have this with me.'

‘Will you be gone long?'

She knew that politeness prevented him from asking where
she was going.
‘I am going home, ‘Di,'
she answered, enjoying the confused look spreading
across the other's face.

‘Home?'
Mardidi's jaw
dropped. ‘
You are a Penehing-Dayak?'

‘Yes,‘Di,'
she replied,
amused by the disbelief spreading across his face.

They entered the thatched-roofed shelter, Mardidi leaving
her alone to prepare the simple meal. Angela positioned herself at a roughly cut, timber bench
which, prior to her arrival, had been reserved solely for the expatriates, and propped both
forearms on the table. An unsmiling Madurese girl brought coffee and placed the enamel mug down
heavily in front of Angela, leaving her alone, without so much as a word. Angela ignored the
behavior, pushed the mug to one side suspecting that there might be more than coffee in the brew.
She sat, quietly, anticipation building as she contemplated the day ahead when Baird entered the
mess, and waved, then stopped to talk to Mardidi – Angela suspecting that she was the subject of
their whispered exchange. When Baird came over, he wasted no time in quizzing her about her
intentions for that day.

‘Surely you're not thinking of going out on the river,
alone?'
he asked, lowering his thin frame down gently.

‘Sure, why not?'
Angela
responded, wondering how far Baird had explored the area.

‘
Why don't you take someone along, just to be
safe?
'

‘Do you think I'd be in danger?'
she asked, annoyance creeping into her voice.
‘We've lost more than
twenty men since we started work here,'
Baird argued.

‘How many women?'
she
challenged.

‘None…,'
he shook his
head, then added,
‘yet.'

‘What happened to the men?'

Baird shrugged.
‘Mostly snakes,'
he answered,
almost uncaringly.
‘Some of them probably took off and returned to the main migrant body
downstream.There've been a few accidents with chainsaws and the like but, as I said, snakes are
really bad around here.'

Angela was, of course, unaware that her father had been
actively culling the number of Madurese workers, and that the greater majority of deaths
attributed to cobras had been his handiwork.
‘Seems like a lot to blame on the snakes,'
she commented.

‘It'd be smart to take someone with you.'

‘Didn't Mardidi tell you that I know the
area?'

‘You've been here before?'
he asked, feigning surprise.

‘I was born not too far from here.'

‘You're a local?'

‘You can't tell?'
Angela noticed him squirm.

Baird shook his head.
‘No. I guessed you were from
Kalimantan, somewhere, by your features.'

‘Are you inferring I have flat nose?'
she asked, enjoying his discomfort.

Baird's face flushed visibly.
‘Good… grief, no!'
he
stammered, glancing around for help.
‘I just meant…'

Angela remained expressionless as she asked,
‘Have you
met any of the local people yet?'

‘No,'
he replied,
lamely.
‘There's no village nearby. That's why we had to import labor.'

‘How did the company come to drill this
location?'
Angela shifted the direction of the
conversation.

‘We finished proving up the other site, downstream, and
Sharon thought that the geology here warranted further investigation.'

‘Then the find was more or less accidental?'

‘No, not really,'
he
revealed,
‘I did some preliminary work up along the river around here a few years back. Sharon
came across my report and decided the area was worth a closer look.'

Stunned, Angela stared at the foreigner sitting across
from her.
‘Then it was you who first recommended the area for drilling?'