The Timor Man (66 page)

Coleman's personal secretary had received the call and informed Hart. She also asked to speak privately with Albert, who accepted the news calmly, thanking the embarrassed worker for her consideration in passing the unfortunate news to him rather than directly to the dead officer's sister.

He discussed Wanti's condition with Hart. They agreed to call a doctor to sedate her, if possible before breaking the news, considering her previous reactions to shock. Albert agreed and Hart sent the secretary out to request assistance from one of the consulting doctors in the Cikini hospital.

An hour later she returned with the doctor who, by that time, had been briefed as to Wanti's condition, her previous attacks and the long periods of convalescence required as a result of her trauma suffered during the anti-Japanese riots. Albert had asked Wanti to go upstairs to her room as he wished to speak privately with her. Sensing that something was wrong, Wanti searched Albert's eyes for some indication of what was worrying him.

When the doctor entered the bedroom she knew immediately that Bambang was dead. She had sensed it the moment she had heard that he had gone to Timor to fight.

“
No, Tuhan, no!
” Wanti called, struggling as she resisted the needle being inserted into her arm. As she froze, her features contorted with shock, the grotesque ugliness of her expression reflected the trauma her brain endured while fighting to cope with the realization of her brother's death.

The doctor immediately administered a second sedative but the shock was too severe. There was nothing they could do for her. Her body remained locked in a catatonic seizure. Her reaction to the news of Bambang's death had blasted her away.

Throughout the night, Albert sat holding her hand, crying softly until tears ceased to flow. He talked to her, sang soft chants which suddenly, blessedly, returned to him for the first time since his childhood as he stroked her arms and offered God his own life in exchange for hers. He rocked gently backwards and forwards humming a distant melody which had haunted his soul from a time he could barely remember, a time when a warm and loving father had taken him by the hand down to the fishing village and held him close and kept him safe.

He spoke to Wanti as she lay there, telling her of the warmth of the sun, the cool winds of the early evening and the soft sweet fragrances of the flowers in the mountains. He kissed her cheeks and, as he did so, his tears fell onto her face as evidence of his love for the beautiful woman whose heart and mind had been taken by some unseen spirit and dashed against the walls of despair.

Wanti breathed slowly, peacefully, unaware of the words being softly whispered as her brain had now severed all links with the real world. Albert Seda stroked her hair, her hand and gently touched the soft colourless cheeks, refusing to acknowledge the distorted features that stared straight back up at him. The servants attempted to have him leave her side, to rest, but he ignored their efforts.

Now, for the first time, they understood. Albert refused to leave her. He had to stay with Wanti, she needed him now, more than ever.

Throughout the following day he remained by her side. He could see from the cruel and twisted ugliness that the muscle spasms had produced where before there had been a beautiful smile, that she was lost. There would be little hope, he knew, that she would recover. As she lay calmly Albert decided that he had no choice but to return immediately to Australia. Arrangements had been made. Hart had helped.

The following day Coleman unexpectedly returned, surprised at the cool reception he received upon arrival at his home.

Hart, angered by the events of the previous day, marched unannounced into his Coleman's office and slammed a letter down in front of the surprised man. “That's my resignation, you bastard!”

Staggered by the vitriolic attack, Stephen looked up at the man and, stunned by the outburst, merely said, “What the hell? Asimple good morning or hello would have been sufficient!”

“What you did is unforgivable, Coleman,” he started, using Stephen's surname to emphasize his contempt, “and the whole bloody community will know about it if I have my way. You're a fucking arsehole!”

“Greg, wh.? “ he started.

“All you had to do was phone your own bloody wife once and maybe you could have prevented all of this!” he yelled unreasonably, half believing his own outburst, knowing also that he'd been given the perfect excuse to pull out, as instructed and withdraw from the company's activities before it sucked him down also into the incredible mess only his superiors understood.

He slammed the desk with his hand confirming to all who had heard the outburst within the office that the
tuans
were deep in argument.

The embarrassed staff lowered their heads quickly, suddenly engrossed in whatever they were doing when the argument had broken out between the two. They had no training in how to handle these predicaments and, identifying the delicacy of the situation, the secretary put her finger to her lips and gestured with her other hand for them to depart silently, as it was already close to the end of office hours anyway.

“Hold it!” Coleman yelled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Jesus, mate, you're good!”

“Again, Greg, what the hell are you carrying on about?”

“You know bloody goddamn well what I'm talking about!”

“What?” Coleman yelled, so loud that the servants heard the demand right through the office and through to their quarters. “Tell me for Chrissakes, man, fucking what?”

“Your wife, damn it man, your wife!”

Suddenly Stephen realized that he had no idea what was going on even in his own home.

Ignoring Hart, he ran quickly through the building and up the steps to his room, now for the first time, occupied by Wanti.

There he found Albert, sitting alongside the woman whom he knew was his wife, but now wore the mask of a stranger.

“What happened?” he demanded, shocked to see her condition.

Albert rose and escorted Stephen from the room.

“
Bambang's dead, Mas!
” and immediately Stephen understood.

He stood silently with the other man not knowing what to do. He had no power of healing and knew, more than everyone else, just how much pain this man would now have to suffer as Wanti lay in her own world, protected by some intricate trigger mechanism inside her head, distancing her from reality and the pain of living.

The following day Albert asked his permission to take her home. Sadly, Stephen agreed. He asked his staff to make the arrangements and seats were booked for the following day. It seemed that everyone in Jakarta suddenly knew of her demise. And was sympathetic to her condition. The two men only spoke when necessary and it was clear to Stephen that he was to carry the blame for the tragic events surrounding his wife's collapse. The subject of the divorce was not raised again.

 

On the day of Albert and Wanti's departure Hart left the company. Stephen didn't really mind. But then again, Stephen didn't know that Hart had been instructed to do so as the company appeared to be heading for a confrontation with the military and his other masters wanted him well out of the way when this happened.

Stephen couldn't understand why he was being blamed for Wanti's condition. Bambang's death certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with him. He knew that even had he called at the time there was no guarantee that this could have resulted in the soldier not being killed. Hart never did advise Stephen of the telex.

Suddenly everything started to change drastically for Coleman. His world was turning inside-out and he did not know what he could do to prevent or correct what was happening to him. Of one thing he was certain. Timor was a much greater problem for him than Anderson had suggested. He could lose everything. Even his life! He still wondered why the Australians had not just exposed the General.

There had to be another agenda. One in which he was to play a role without knowing who all the other participants were to be. A dangerous game no doubt, he guessed, considering he was now sitting squeezed between two highly skilled professionals, neither of whom would have any compunction in ordering his permanent removal should they deem such action necessary to their respective causes.

The General had access to considerable funds and no doubt had successfully compromised more than one of his peers throughout his years climbing to the powerful position he now held. Stephen remembered the veiled threat made when they first embarked on their journey together, forming the alliance which had built an empire for each of them. An empire that would soon come crashing down if he did not now proceed with extreme caution with every move he made.

Maybe a few months away in Europe or Canada would be a wise decision at this time, he thought.

He needed time to rearrange his activities but he knew that time was running out and there was a distinct possibility that he would be unable to extricate himself from the mess in which he was slowly drowning, and had been for some considerable time, without even being aware of it.

He considered what the outcome would be should the General and FRETILIN react as predicted and retaliate, crossing over into the Indonesian half of Timor, creating the opportunity everyone appeared to support. This would be most unlikely, Stephen decided, as it would result in yet a further invasion of such a scale that all separatist forces would be totally destroyed once and for all! Alternatively, should Seda successfully secure an independent state for FRETILIN, did he see himself as the country's first leader? Its first President? And would the Indonesians sanction a man who had betrayed them to sit as the head of state in the neighbouring country? Coleman thought this through. Actually, knowing the General as well as he did, he knew it was unlikely that he would permit Cubans or any other alien group to control his military if he were to gain power. Should this be the case then it would surely follow that Timor could, in fact, become a reasonable, albeit poor, democracy in its own right. And Coleman would benefit from the relationship.

It dawned on him that such a scenario would also benefit the Australians and perhaps the other and smaller neighbouring states who were edgy about the powerful Moslem country dictating regional foreign policies. The Americans would rest easy knowing that their nuclear submarines could pass unhindered by the Soviets.

Was this is the strategy Anderson wanted to see in place?

Stephen concluded that this made a whole lot more sense than the other possibilities and would explain why ASIS had not exposed the General and perhaps even why they had moved back into his life to manipulate events even more from the sidelines.

He decided he should just wait for a few more weeks to see how it all developed. After all, according to the press, the fighting could continue for some time and that could only be good for their business. He would stay around for a few more weeks and monitor his relationship with Seda. Should the signs be positive he would maintain the status quo and work his way through the problems.

Feeling once again in reasonable control of the situation he decided to delay acting on Anderson's demands until he'd had enough time to further review the complicated mess. Coleman concluded that, short of nuclear weapons being introduced into the conflict, little else could change the current position of the warring parties. High casualty figures would mean support for Indonesia's invasion would deteriorate both domestically and internationally.

General Nathan Seda appeared to be heading towards the successful realization of his dream. An independent Timor.

Or, at least, an independent East Timor!

Jakarta
— Timor-Timur

 

Seda arrived early for this vital meeting. He noticed that the priority files he had ordered to be circulated to the heads of each contributing department in preparation for this discussion were in place. They were set out ready for the head of OPSUS at his place opposite Seda. There were seven seats prepared, he counted, all with the customary blotting pads nobody ever used as they only carried ballpens. He made a mental note. No more blotting pads.

Only three of the powerful generals had arrived as Seda entered the well-guarded room. Military police armed with carbines stood watch at the door. He knew that they wouldn't be enough should someone really want to get in and blow them all away. Window dressing. Just window dressing, he thought.