There were other scars; but these were indelibly etched in his mind. He had almost accepted the shooting as accidental. The Governments of Indonesia and Australia both agreed that the shooting was accidental, that he had obviously been mistaken for a regular Indonesian soldier during the attack by the insurgents. It had then become generally accepted that there had been nothing sinister behind the accidental shooting of the Embassy representative who was on record as having requested the tour. To accept otherwise would have raised too many unanswerable questions.
Coleman believed that it had been a deliberate attempt on his life. The circumstances leading up to his shooting appeared too orchestrated and, whenever he reflected on the events surrounding the attack, he believed that there could be no other conclusion. He had, however, elected to follow the general consensus and accepted that the shooting had been an accident. But only publicly.
Fortunately, the press also accepted the popular version of the incident. The Australian government did not need to issue a âD' notice to prevent the newspapers from publishing articles detrimental to national interests. Intelligence services from Australia, New Zealand and the United States agreed that there was a substantial arms operation underway prior to the plebiscite. The majority of these agencies were convinced that vested interests had deliberately manipulated the Irian tribes into believing that armed revolt against the Indonesians would eventually lead to their achieving independence from the powerful Indonesian presence, and the United States delivered satellite photography to support these views. The poorly organized rebel movement, lacking in military hardware and training, failed dismally. What started as major outbreaks of resistance soon turned into occasional skirmishes. Opposition diminished rapidly once supply lines had been effectively disrupted. Most of the primitive groups lay down their arms and surrendered. Others regrouped along the New Guinea border vowing to continue their campaign of terror against the Javanese transmigrant colonies. The United Nations moved quickly and, as indications were that the people of Irian Barat wanted to be part of the Indonesian republic, the supervised voting commenced.
The results of the plebiscite destroyed all future hope for an independent West New Guinea. The exultant Indonesian authorities named the new province, Irian Jaya.
The significant events and changes which had occurred over the time of his absence amazed Stephen. He had maintained a watching brief over Indonesia and was restless to witness the changes he'd read about for himself. The people of Indonesia had become even stronger, uniting behind the powerful
Golkar
Party to establish their leader as the most powerful head of state in Asia, outside of China.
The country had commenced its drive towards a full market economy. Foreign investors flooded into the capital signing commitments never thought possible just a few years before. Suddenly, there was a burst of activity and the capital city's skyline started to change. The Chinese entrepreneurs returned and, with them, funds to develop the trading opportunities of this country's enormous consumer potential. Overnight, with its energy reserves, Indonesia became the new investor destination. They came in their thousands with briefcases full of money and promises.
The Indonesia Coleman had left, just two years before, had changed. Even the people seemed different. Senior government players had come and gone already over the short period. The technocrats were now involved. It was an exciting time. Particularly for General Nathan Seda.
Â
During the second year of his physical and mental recuperation and towards the completion of his intensive advanced intelligence training, Stephen had considered leaving the Service. The months had dragged on laboriously as the monotonous daily routines chipped away at his energy causing him to question his motives for continuing with the department.
He felt as if he now lacked motivation and needed something to stimulate him, to provide an excitement, to generate new energy in his life. Anderson understood the underlying reason, as did Stephan's mother, both annoyingly endowed with some sixth sense when it came to his well being. At times he found it suffocating. They had both, in their own time broached the subject of Louise.
He'd flatly refused to discuss her. Not with his mother and certainly not with Anderson. Stephen didn't believe that either could understand the emotions he'd experienced, the mental torment he had suffered once when news of her accident had been divulged to him. Their relationship was now history and nothing could change the facts surrounding her demise. Most was now just part of his confused memory punctuated with flashes of the shooting, their last night together, and the disappearance of her flight.
He'd been informed while still under hospital care in Sydney. By then the Search and Air Rescue parties had been called off and she had been declared officially lost, one of those incongruous euphemisms, he soon realized, which can be vague enough to provide a small window of hope to friends and loved ones. Even now he refused to accept the loss, although he recognized that part of the healing process was coming to terms with her death. He just wasn't ready to let go. At least, not then.
With the coming of the first falls of snow, Stephen eagerly accepted the opportunity to revisit Anderson's mountain lodge. Although he would need to nurse his shoulder back into the demanding sport carefully, he decided to go. It wasn't lost on him that his mother had been thinking of psychological recuperation rather than physical recovery when she suggested the holiday and somehow secured his Director's consent.
At first he was content to plough around through the white-blanketed setting enjoying the serenity of the Australian Alps during winter, but when he observed the other guests their host had also invited carrying their gear out to the four-wheel drive, he was immediately impatient to ski again.
He commenced with some light down-hill skiing and, although the conditions were poor he had little difficulty regaining the form he had achieved some years before. Stephen discovered that he still enjoyed the exhilaration of speeding down the slopes and, under the observant eyes of the clandestine department's chief, Stephen regained his confidence quickly. Convinced that his mind was back on track he attacked his work with a refreshed vigour, much to the relief of the departmental watchdogs who had become increasingly concerned with their agent's demeanour.
Due to his in-depth in-country experience, Stephen was placed in charge of the Indonesian desk. He was not completely comfortable with the position but understood the necessity of staying behind a desk until he felt
au fait
with the administrative and logistical support aspects of the profession he had entered.
Occasionally he dined with the Chief but other than those rare occasions Coleman kept to himself. This was not considered unusual as most of his associates had also kept to themselves during the intense training. They understood that their social lives would forever be restricted by the sensitive information they knew and avoided developing new relationships outside the group. The identity of members of the elite circle of government operatives was known only to the Prime Minister, his Attorney General and the small number of directly involved personnel. Apart from the demanding field training in Canungra, Stephen spent most of his time inside the Defence Department offices.
ASIS had been designed along the lines of the British secret intelligence services, more commonly referred to as MI6. The major difference between the two was that the existence of the Australian counterpart was unknown to the public and media. Only the most senior foreign intelligence chiefs had access to this extremely sensitive information. Stephen knew from the list he had examined that this included the Director of the CIA and, of course, MI6.
The security clearance alone often required extremely intensive investigation of potential recruits. Many were abandoned by the Department over the most minor considerations well before there was any possibility of their accessing any information whatsoever relating to the existence of the Service.
Coleman had been encouraged to re-enter the cocktail circuit and did so willingly. He was constantly amused by the not so subtle differences in behaviour he observed between the Canberra bureaucrats and the foreign diplomats. It was as if most of the city's population were all on some extended political holiday as they appeared to be always away down the coast fishing or visiting the ski resorts on weekends while their evenings were occupied by the numerous functions listed on the diplomatic calendar.
Occasionally Stephen spent the weekend with his mother in Melbourne. He was shocked to see how she had aged so during the past two years. He came to understand that he had never really appreciated just how much she had cared for him and how proud this elegant lady had become of her son. There had been no communication with his father. Not even when he had been hospitalized. His parents had separated not long after his first overseas posting and dfrifted to their own distant horizons, until finally losing all contact with each other.
Stephen found time to visit his old friend and teacher, Albert, who always reciprocated with a lunch or dinner invitation whenever he came to Canberra. He was pleased for the Timorese. Although his life had also suffered the extremes of love and disappointment Albert now appeared to be quite comfortably settled in his current position as a part-time technical advisor to the government, while maintaining his former teaching position at the Language Academy.
Mary had long deserted their marital abode. The couple had exchanged the necessary papers through their solicitors and now Albert was alone again, although he still received occasional communications from Nathan which, these days, he passed directly to the ASIO officer who arranged to meet with him regularly in Canberra. There he received a brief which he followed precisely upon returning to Melbourne, and the Indonesian community. Although he had asked himself the question many times, Albert just did not understand how or why he had been placed in the unenviable position which now overshadowed his entire life.
Unfortunately for Albert, he had never applied for naturalization whilst still married to Mary. Although the authorities stated that he now qualified in his own right, he could not understand why both applications submitted had been refused without a reasonable explanation. Albert had been informed that immigration checks took time and that he should be patient and persevere until he was accepted. During his most recent visit to Canberra and discussions with his intelligence contact, he had raised the issue and requested their assistance. He had been informed that his application was not necessary as he was already a resident and a further application may just open a Pandora's Box which could even result in his deportation.
Deportation! The very word gnawed at his intestines for weeks. The thought of being forcefully returned to Indonesia threw the fear of God into Albert. He accepted the agent's explanation and decided not to attract any further attention to himself. Albert was worried. He wished he could discuss the difficulties with his old student and now close friend Stephen Coleman. In fact, that is exactly what Albert should have done but he knew nothing of the Machiavellian world of intelligence and espionage and, in consequence, remained but a minor pawn under threat in two separate games.
He felt sad for Stephen when he first received news of the shooting accident. He had phoned his former student's parents to console them and obtain information regarding his condition. Albert journeyed to the hospital regularly as he was most sincere with respect to Stephan's well being.
Coleman appreciated the display of warmth from the Timorese. Their friendship grew and developed a new dimension.
Now Albert was alone again as Stephen, having informed him of his intended departure during his last visit, had bid farewell briefly by phone just the evening before as he waited in the departure lounge at Mascot Airport. Depressed since returning to Melbourne and alone in his empty bungalow, Albert considered his friend and silently prayed for his well being, the constant feeling which nagged at his thoughts ever since he had seen Stephen lying on the hospital bed covered in bandages, a worry to his mind.
There was just something about their relationship which he felt tied them together, driving them towards a common destination, to some form of conclusion. That night he said another prayer to his god, this time he prayed for his friend, Stephen Coleman.
Â
Coleman could not believe the changes he witnessed driving from Kemayoran Airport. The activity was intense. Roads had been widened, trees planted. New buildings were taking shape and the city's skyline changed from one of neglect to that of a city full of promise. The people even appeared brighter. There was a presence of hope in the air and not the despair he had so often encountered during his first visit to Jakarta. And the motorbikes! Where had all of those machines suddenly appeared from, screaming along in packs, twisting in and out of the traffic at dangerous speeds? He shook his head in disbelief. In just two years the changes had been dramatic. He was excited, the anticipation of seeing the Embassy again and perhaps meeting one or two old acquaintances raised his spirits even further.
When the taxi turned into Jalan Thamrin Stephen could not accept the incredible change that this avenue had undergone in such a brief period of time. Now there were skyscrapers where before there had been empty fields. Previously unfinished buildings, now completed, boasted neon signs on roofs advertising Sanyo, Toyota and other Japanese products. The main protocol road had been reconstructed as a four lane avenue with pedestrian crossings and traffic lights. The military with its tanks and soldiers were no longer evident.