The Call of the Thunder Dragon (35 page)

They talked about results, always
results, being the priority; that was fine on a battlefield thought
Suzuki. Charging in to take someone’s head and then showing it as a
trophy was all well and good, but that strategy would not bring
together the prospective leaders of a new rebel Burmese army. Had
they caught sight of Haga-Jin shooting across the border then he
might have been forced to return to Japan and answer for his own
delays thought Suzuki.

With Haga-Jin gone and Falstaff
on his way, Minami Masuyo the journalist or Colonel Suzuki Keiji,
the soldier, wouldn’t rest until he had inspired, raised and
trained the New Burmese Army.

Their last evening in Myitkyina
had been restful and quiet. That was until they had got to bed.
Falstaff looked down at Zam’s rounded rump. She’d rolled over and
fallen asleep a while ago. Falstaff reached for a drink from beside
the bed, having swiped the bottle of German liquor on medical
grounds earlier that evening.

He regarded the pale moon shape
on the bed beside him lustfully. He tried to stir Zam from her
sleep by rubbing her leg with his toe. Eventually, she turned and
regarded him with sleepy eyes that suddenly lit up with
astonishment at the sight of Falstaff bearing down on her.

Falstaff held her in a clinch,
kissing her neck and squeezing her breasts. Zam shrugged and
stretched her arms and pushed him on to his back; from there she
dominated him, teasing him.

“What year were you born?” Zam
said huskily chewing his ear.

“January, er, 1903 I think?”
Falstaff said, somewhat muffled by flesh.

“No silly what year?” Zam
bounced. “I’m a rabbit!”

“You act like it as well!”
Falstaff wriggled trying to make a grab for her wrists.

“The Sheng Xiao!” Zam bit his
ear. “What animal?”

“The Chinese animal signs? Let me
see someone worked it out once in Shanghai? The tiger! I’m a
tiger!” Falstaff roared rolling over, tipping Zam onto her
back.

“The rabbit is one of the most
love full of the signs!” She boasted, somehow Zam ended up on top
again.

“What’s that? Stop swinging
about.” Falstaff complained, half heartily, nuzzling between her
breasts. “Is that important?”

“The Rabbit dreams of the man who
knows how to unite strength with tenderness,” Zam said as she
kissed him.

“Ah, what can the Tiger do for
you?” Falstaff snapped his teeth and nuzzled deep between Zam's
breasts.

“He goes gurrr...rr!”

“No, that tickles. The Tiger and
rabbit is not a good match!” Zam wormed away.

“I don’t want to hurt you little
rabbit, but I am going to have to get my claws into you somehow!”
Falstaff rolled her over and pinned her down.

“I was warned about men like you,
you know." Zam smiled coyly.

“Grrr, the wonderful thing about
Tigers...” Said Falstaff unrelenting. “Do know the Tiger Rag? It’s
a fast little refrain! Let me teach it to you!

“It goes... Hold that
tiger! Where's that tiger? Where's that tiger? Here's that
tiger!
⁴⁴
”

Falstaff had to admire the work
done in less than a week. The tinsmith’s patches were neat and
smooth, despite the hammering he’d given the tanks. Refuelled to
brim, the patches showed no sign of leaking. The other tank was
left half empty, having run out of gasoline. The fuel stolen from
Alistair’s stock by the Japanese had yet to be replaced. They were
waiting to hear if a few more cans could be found somewhere in the
town. The rear engine had been overhauled and leaking oil and
radiator fixed.

“The fuel is not a problem, the
next leg of the trip is to Jorhat,” Falstaff reassured the
mechanic. “There’s a flying club down there isn’t there?”

“Aye, it is not as wild down
there as it is here, you might say, but the mechanics down there
din’ee know what there’re doin’ like? Stay here another week,
there’s more gasoline coming up on the next train?”

“Thanks, but I’m not sure we can
afford to stay longer!” Falstaff looked over the silver dollars and
gold left. He handed over another slab of gold and the remaining
silver dollars. “I hope that covers all the work done!”

“You’ll have no more trouble from
the engine, we stripped it reit doon! No leaks nuu lad! But, o’
course, we had to reuse some the plugs; those thet’ weren’t too
soiled that is! But if you care to wait for the train?”

“Thanks again, but I’m out of
cash and Zam is spending the rest in the town right now! That rear
engine sounds fine and is running a lot smoother!”

“Aye, well I’ll leave you to stow
your luggage. Everything from your machine is stacked in the shack
over there!”

Falstaff started carrying out
the bedding, coats, the stove and all the covers; then all the tea
and other goods Zam had previously bought. He returned to the shack
for the smaller bags, his tools and map case. Beside which he found
two small sacks, tied up with rope. He lifted them and was
surprised at the weight. In his head, he went through the things
he’d packed or seen previously, the rice wine, the tea, nothing
heavy and solid came to mind.

Curious he opened them and fell
back in shock. He sat on the ground regarding the first sack that
had spilt out four smaller leather bags and their contents. Jade
stones as big as his fist ready for cutting, rubies, sapphires and
green quartz. Breathlessly he opened the second sack and found it
was full of silver dollars and gold Indian coins, bearing the bust
of a young queen Victoria.

“Damn!” Falstaff’s mouth dried
up. His heart skipped a beat. The haul represented a life’s
savings; a fortune in gold enough to retire on for the next ten
years or more. Falstaff went cold, was Zam holding out on him?

“I was going to tell you.” Zam
entered the shack, pulling the door closed.

Falstaff jumped, startled by the
noise. He whirled to face her across the shack, the money and
jewels on the floor between them. A black pistol glinted in the
morning light shaking in her hand.

“I was going to tell you are soon
as the Japanese had gone, but they caught me instead.”

Falstaff rose slowly, surprised
at the sound of her trembling voice. The cheerful, strong voice or
the stern scolding, or pampering voice she used was gone. Zam
reached out pointing with her pistol in her shaking hand.

“Pack it up please! I don’t want
anyone seeing it... asking questions!” Her voice was hoarse, her
hands shook.

Falstaff worried the pistol would
go off at any moment.

“Okay, we’ll pack it away, that’s
no problem, but when did you start carrying a gun?”

“It’s Ludwig’s, I bought from
him. I told him I didn’t want to be caught again, not like before.
You won’t always be there!” Zam’s eyes filled with tears. The hand
holding the gun fell to her side. Her fingers unclenched and she
tossed the gun down. She looked like she was going to faint.

“Wait, what is it?” Falstaff
caught her and pulled her close. “You act like you’re the one
leaving?”

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” She
gripped Falstaff’s cheek angrily, pinching him.

“Yes, but we’re leaving together,
I’m taking you home!” Her held her close, stroking her hair,
rocking her from side to side. “Nothing’s changed, has it?”

Zam sighed, the tears streaming
down her cheeks. “But you’ve seen this, you’ll tell someone!”

“Why should I tell anyone, it’s
yours isn’t it?”

“Yes... Yes, it is.” Zam
hesitated just long enough that Falstaff knew she might be still
lying.

Zam sat up, pushing Falstaff
away, she moved to the piles of stones and coins, starting to
repack the bags.

“You shouldn’t have looked at
what was not yours!”

“You said, you were going to tell
me! What did you have to say?” Angrily he grabbed her wrist,
pulling her to his side.

“I stole it back; it was my
father’s. I lied from the beginning, the Chamberlain stole my
father’s savings and his horses...”

There’s that hesitation again
Falstaff thought.

“I caught him trying to sneak
away... At first I thought I’d join him, share in the treasure, my
sisters are all married I was the last and I wanted to get away!”
Zam continued sobbing, taking long deep breaths.

Falstaff released her. “Go on.”
She was talking, but he didn’t believe it.

“Palden Jampa, the Chamberlain,
employed bandits to help with his escape, once we were in the
mountains I had to go along with him. I’d planned to go back with
Palden caught... Yes, that’s it.” She screwed her eyes shut and
sobbed. “Yes, that was it. I’d have exposed him to the law or found
someone to help me. But the bandits came with us all the way to
Tengchong. I could not do anything, not until they were gone. Then
Palden tried to force himself on me, but I resisted. The locals
were suspicious of him, so he daren’t lay another finger on me
until we left. On the road to Simao, in the mountains... Jampa fell
from his horse... I watched when he fell onto the rocks.”

“And then you went into Simao
alone? Buying tea for your father?” Falstaff tried to look her in
the eye.

“Yes, I knew father would be so
angry with me. I know he loved the Pu’er tea so much!” Zam rubbed
her eyes. “I’m sorry I deceived you? Don’t you understand I just
want to go home?!” She sobbed.

“One question, about the airplane
being faster I get, but Garcia? Were you two lovers as well?”
Falstaff asked.

Zam lashed out, slapping him
across the face. “Is that it? Is that all you’re think of me!”

“Zam, I wanted to take you back
to your father, - I was sure he would be pleased to see you?”
Falstaff chose his words carefully. “I expect your father,
will
be happy to see you. I was hoping for a reward, but to
be honest I would have never got out of China alive if it weren't
for you?”

“So what now?” Zam asked. “Are
turning me over to the police, throwing me away!” She marched to
the door of the shack.

“Wait, no!” Falstaff caught her
hand and pulled her close in a tight embrace, pressing his lips to
hers. “We can finish this journey, crazy as it is, we can finish it
together. Can’t we Zam, bunny?”

“John? Di-di? Hold me.” Zam
asked, her face close to his ear.

The winters were generally mild
in Burma; except in the mountains. The final cans of scrounged
gasoline arrived late that afternoon, so they slept the night in
the Caproni. They had left Myitkyina the next morning. At sun up
the airstrip was covered with a layer of frost from the strong icy
winds blowing down from the north from the mighty Himalayas. Ahead
lay four hundred miles in the icy chill wind over the mountains
bearing north west all the way.

Falstaff and Zam once again
wrapped up with layers of outer coats and blankets, with hot water
bottles stuffed inside. Goggles and scarves covered their faces
completely. The addition of a generous layer of goose grease kept
the skin water proofed and protected from the cold and wind.

Thankfully, the skies were clear
and blue as far as the eye could see. Falstaff was less concerned
with freezing on this leg of the journey and more concerned about
their fate if they were forced down or crashed in the nameless
empty spaces on the maps that covered their journey to Jorhat.

Jorhat, to the west in the
distance Assam, was now at least fixed with a reliable longitude
and latitude. However, the one thing, they still lacked was a
sextant. A brief search of the town had failed to procure the
instrument. The best Alastair and Ludwig had been able to confirm
the bearings and distance, from the modern and reliable maps pined
up in the airstrip shack.

After a smooth take-off, they
flew north-west over a series of parallel, desolate forest covered
ridges, then grasslands and more jungle that smothered the land all
the way to the Chindwin River.

They flew over the river at
Hkamti, the first town and sign of human life they’d seen for over
two hours. The village people ignored them, possibly used to the
infrequent aircraft using the river bend as a sign post west.

The Caproni easily climbed to
soar over the crest of the highest peak of the day at 5,000 feet, a
nameless ridge part of the mountain range southwest of Putao. They
saw black bears sniffing amongst the bracken below. Black deer
darted startled by invasive noise of the engines. Falstaff steered
clear of the flocks of exotic birds rising out of the jungle as
they descended the western slope. Falstaff had maintained a
constant altitude of about five thousand feet most of the journey.
Without the constant climbing and changing course, a steady
cruising speed meant a lower consumption of fuel. Even so Falstaff
became nervous, there was no way back now; this part of the journey
was filled with the complete unknown. The adventurous had trekked
this far; Northward from Myitkyina, having come by way Yangoon, up
the river, seeking the infamous, alluring ‘Black Orchid’. It was a
long walk back now, they lacked the fuel to turn back the only way
was forward.

In the lowlands to the west, they
passed over curious villagers gawking at the aircraft as they flew
by, children came running out of stilted bamboo houses, men raised
their bows and fired vainly at them even as Zam waved a cheery
salute. Apart from the isolated villagers they saw nothing. The
ground was flat and covered with short grass. The land was a
wilderness.

The rivers and lakes, however,
were full of birds and other wildlife. Pelicans, storks and darters
rose from glittering surface of the water. They rose so quickly and
in such vast numbers Falstaff took note and from then on ensured
that he climbed a few thousand feet before passing over water.

Soon they were crossing vast
stretches of swamp. Rhino and deer bolted from the long grass and
wild buffalo would raise their heads from the water and bellow
futilely at them as they passed by, the shadow of the aircraft
flitting across their swampy home.