The Timor Man (23 page)

“
Tunggu dulu, Mas, saya mau bicara sesudah yang lain sudah pulang
,” the General advised, sotto voce to avoid being overhead, suggesting that his guest not depart until the others, as there was something he wished to discuss. The time dragged on for another hour before Coleman was now alone with the Timorese.

“
Mas Stephen
,” began the older man in a friendly tone. “
I wish to discuss the possibility of that visit you suggested
.”

Surprised, Coleman was about to interrupt when Seda raised his hand indicating that he wished to finish speaking. “
These are not conversations that should be held with the ladies present as they have a tendency to gossip without considering the consequences. For example, most of the women present this afternoon would have made several telephone calls upon arriving home either bragging about their visit or simply gossiping to impress.
”

Seda paused, then continued in a manner accustomed to the authority he had acquired.

“
I will arrange for you to visit providing you are able to secure your Ambassador's approval. We will require a formal request via the normal Foreign Affairs channels
.”

The Attaché considered the Intelligence Officer's offer, surprised by his directness, completely unaware of this influential man's motives.

“
I would be very pleased to visit Irian, Pak Seda
,” he responded, “and I will discuss this opportunity with the Ambassador first thing in the morning. Thank you. Pak.”

Coleman paused, and then asked, “
Kenapa dikasih pergi, Pak
,” inquiring as to the reason for the offer to visit the area.

“
Because there are things that our Government needs for the West to see, yet don't understand how to proceed to disclose these situations without the outcome resulting in confusion. Or worse, embarrassment.
”

“
There are those of us who feel that Australia is not just our neighbour. Australia is our friend and we wish to maintain that relationship. Perhaps if you were to report the truth of what difficulties we are having with the primitive tribal groups then public opinion would not be so critical of our efforts to stabilize our half of Irian.
” Coleman was not surprised that the general had been a little presumptuous as to the outcome of the forthcoming plebiscite.

“
Then why not just open up completely and permit the Press to visit and inform their readers of the events there?
” he asked.

“
The government had considered this but came to the conclusion that it would be far, far too dangerous. The area is riddled with extremists and we could not guarantee the safety of large numbers of civilians tracking around in the undeveloped villages
.”

Coleman was not too impressed to discover that he had been invited to venture into areas where killings occurred frequently. He was no coward but travelling unarmed, even accompanied by military security through fire-fighting hot spots was not, in his opinion, within his job description.

“
Also, Mas
,” the General added looking directly at Stephen, “
we believe that most of the journalists likely to be selected would have preconceived ideas regarding our treatment of the indigenous and, consequently, such a visit would be counter-productive. We believe that your position would be objective.
”

The General paused before continuing, gauging the foreigner's

reaction. “
Of course, we would prefer to have others accompany you, preferably of another nationality as this would add weight or more credibility to your findings if they were to be verified by an independent observer.
”

Coleman slowly nodded his agreement. It would be disastrous to open old wounds. And what the General had said was accurate, he understood all too well. Sending another foreigner who could substantiate his own findings would be the politically correct thing to do.

The majority of Asia's rulers could not understand why the Australian Government permitted the free press to operate as it did. Having journalists sensationalize the Irian village resistance groups leading up to the plebiscite would not only endanger the successful outcome of the
Act Of Free Choice
but could also create a substantial rift between the two neighbouring countries. He was aware that the Australian Government's policy was to support Indonesia's taking control over the underdeveloped country. Coleman had assumed that steps had been or were being taken by their giant neighbour to ensure the desired outcome. Tens of thousands of non-indigenous Indonesians had been transmigrated into the former Dutch colony. Military strength had been considerably increased.

Neither Australia nor Indonesia wished to see the potential Indonesian province as an independent state, threatening the security of not just Indonesia's borders, but also Australia to the South and New Guinea to the east! No, Australia would not accept such a development even if this required turning a blind eye, so to speak, concerning reports of atrocities carried out by Indonesian troops.

Coleman studied the Timorese. The newly promoted General wore his rank well. An air of confidence surrounded this man who had developed an incredible power base within a very short period of time. It was clear that a close relationship with this man would be of considerable benefit to the Australian.

“
I believe that it is a sound idea, and certainly a wonderful opportunity for me personally, Pak.
”

Seda smiled, pleased that his offer would be accepted.

“
We will find someone suitable to join you on the tour. Our preference would be for a non-journalist but certainly a person with acceptable credentials. Anyway, we will sort that out only after you have spoken to your superiors.
”

“
Baiklah, Pak
.
I will discuss this at length with the Ambassador and be in contact with your office when I have his response
.”

Seda smiled again and, holding his hand out to Stephen, indicated that the discussion was over.

Looking back over his shoulder and offering a friendly wave as Achmad drove along the magnificent
Jalan Teuku Uma
r, Coleman felt an exhilaration that had been absent from his life for some time. He'd felt that his work had become mundane, the monotonous regularity of submitting weekly reports making him stale, and that somewhere along the line, he had lost his edge. This trip was exactly the remedy he needed! Turning down into Mohamed Yamin and around the corner towards his small residence Stephen was comfortably relaxed and already looking forward to the excursion into one of Indonesia's more primitive areas.

The General watched the light blue Holden with the diplomatic plates drive slowly away. His face muscles tensed as he considered the danger of what he was about to do, and the risk of exposure should his arrangements not be perfect in every way. Time was running out for the Timorese.

He was now committed to this new course of action and he believed the opportunity should not be wasted. Should his tactics prove successful then his ultimate ambition would be realized that much sooner and, in the event that his plan fail, only time would be lost. And a few lives. Either way, General Seda was convinced that his actions would only bring a further consolidation of power to his position within the military and, with that, he would be one step closer to realizing his dreams. He would use this foreigner to enhance the success of his strategy. He had thought it through thoroughly prior to the invitation being arranged for the Information Attaché to visit his home. He was sure that the inquisitive Australians were keen to take a peek into whatever the Indonesian military was up to in Irian and would most probably jump at an opportunity to investigate, should one arise.

An untimely terrorist attack killing the young Australian Attaché would create considerable damage to the implementation of the plebiscite, and may even result in its postponement. This, in turn, could inflame the entire indigenous population in Irian providing the regional instability he required to achieve his ambitious plans.

 

Coleman considered the wording of his report and prepared its transmission personally. He was pleased that events had resulted in the opportunity to reconnoitre the Irian area and was amazed at the timely coincidence. The invitation fitted his brief perfectly.

He had informed Canberra immediately. His coded communiqué was deciphered and collected by an appropriately security cleared secretary for delivery to the Director. The Intelligence Chief discussed the contents with his Deputy. John Anderson then made the necessary arrangements for the Department of External Affairs to approve the visit. Canberra advised their Mission in Jakarta that the invitation had been offered through the Indonesian Embassy in Australia for a responsible journalist to visit and had, in response, suggested the Second Secretary Information, Stephen Coleman for their approval. The Indonesian Ambassador himself had phoned to confirm Coleman's acceptability.

Stephen had been summoned by the irritated Head of Mission. He was acutely aware that events were taking place without not only his concurrence but also his knowledge.

“Coleman, you have been selected, for whatever reason, to be given the opportunity to visit Irian as a guest of the Indonesian Government,” he puffed. “There have been numerous mutterings within this Mission as to your qualifications for this tour, however. Your name was obviously picked out of the hat without any prior consultation with the department.”

“Perhaps it was a decision relating to my language qualification Ambassador,” he gibed.

The Ambassador rose to his feet, his face red with anger. He was incredibly short and attempted to compensate by lowering his deep resonant voice into a bellow. He reminded Coleman of the Wizard of Id.

“Whatever the reason young man, I do remind you that you are accredited to this Embassy and will maintain some semblance of respect when addressing this chair!”

“Yes Ambassador,” the younger man responded wearily.

“You will be briefed by the Military Attaché as they require certain information you may be able to obtain during your trip into the wilds,” he informed facetiously.

“When arrangements have been completed, you are also to be briefed by the First Secretary. Do you understand?” he demanded

in a low growl.

“Perfectly, Ambassador. Is that all, sir?”

“That's it. Get to it. Don't screw it up!”

With this last order the rotund diplomat turned his back on the subordinate member of his Mission indicating that the interview was finished.

Coleman turned and left the room, smiling, as he enjoyed antagonizing the supercilious and egotistical Ambassador who so obviously suffered severely from the small man complex. He winked at the secretary whose office was adjacent to the side entrance of her boss' office.

“Not in a particularly good mood today, are we,” he joked, pointing his thumb back in the direction of the man he had just left.

The secretary responded with a cool smile. “I hear you're going to Irian, Stephen?” she asked in response. Not surprised, but pleased that the fine looking Melbourne girl had at least attempted to be civil to him, Coleman's face broke into a grin.

“Yes,” he answered, “I've just been informed.”

“We will all miss you,” she announced and turned her attention back to her typing. He immediately recognized the insincerity of the remark. A strong bond existed between the secretary and her Ambassador.

“I will try to keep my head,” he quipped sarcastically as he left, displeased with himself for letting the remark get to him. He retreated to his office on the first floor and commenced preparations. He informed General Seda of the positive response and requested details for his journey. Satisfied that he was moving in the correct direction, Coleman settled down to prepare for his departure for Irian.

 

He had never enjoyed flying. His hands were wet with perspiration as the attacks of fear kept him clinging to the sides of the canvas seat. The old C-47 bounced around continuously at around twelve thousand feet. The pilot appeared to be looking for a gap in the weather as he needed to drop down to a lower altitude. The first leg had taken almost five hours from Jakarta to Tuban airfield. Coleman was aghast when he saw that several of the volcanoes were actually thousands of feet taller than the maximum ceiling this old aircraft could reach. The air was thin and cold. He felt no nausea, just fear. The transport dropped again and Stephen gripped the bars on each side covered with canvas until his hands ached. He had visions of the aircraft hitting the side of one of the mountains, never to be found in the dense jungle, even if he was fortunate enough to survive such an impact! At least his nervousness had taken his mind off his travelling companion who now sat across and directly opposite, apparently not at all bothered by the inclement weather, and resulting yawing effect the heavier than air machine experienced.