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Asia. The ordinary people live under a near-Stalinist dictatorship. The government tells the people when they can see something and when they can’t. Aid agencies can’t get eyewitnesses to speak even after military vehicles roar through villages and run down children playing in the road.
“Added to the above, China also wants direct access to a port on the Indian Ocean. Occupying Shan State gets them another two hundred miles closer, while natural resources keep flowing north. As a bonus, once in-country China will burn the poppy fields, opium stores and meth labs that are addicting their citizens. Maybe even shell the Burma Army as payback for all those junkies in Yunnan and Kunming.”
While winning top marks for chutzpah, Nolan doubted that anyone in the room other than Martin had been enlightened by young Millie’s minor oration. Even so, whether by accident or design, Matthews and Hecker fell silent. Nolan found himself fixated on her perfect smile, pleasant face and earnestness as she looked down and fiddled at her laptop keyboard, face burning at the silence that greeted her outburst.
The ambassador broke the spell. “Gentlemen, Monday I shall call on the minister of home affairs and insist the police arrest this man Toffer if they haven’t done so by the end of today. Once they’re done interrogating him, we will know what this is all about.” Nolan decided Warren Martin was that all-too-common breed of political appointee who was wealthy enough to buy an ambassadorship, but not smart enough to do something useful with it. He despaired at how the US could entrust a strategically and economically important post to a super PAC founder.
Nolan said, “Mr. Ambassador, I’m probably the only one who could testify against Toffer. He did threaten my wife and children, but I didn’t actually see him stab Kyaw. The embassy car’s been burned, so there’s no evidence Toffer stabbed him from that. I don’t know how good Burma’s criminal court system is—”
“Appallingly slow, incredibly corrupt and egregious in every way.” Hecker’s tone was measured.
“My life is in danger here. I should leave Rangoon as soon as possible.”
Martin was unconvinced. “Why do you think you’re at risk now that you’ve revealed this man’s actions to everyone here? Killing you doesn’t change that fact.”
“Toffer is an intimidator; that’s why he killed Kyaw. If I stick around and testify, he will come after me and perhaps my family as well.”
Matthews butted in, spittle flying. “Nolan’s right. He’s less than a month away from retirement. This isn’t an IT department matter. He should leave it to the professionals in Clandestine Services. I’m sure his family will be safe from the clutches of this bloodthirsty murderer Toffer just as soon as his arch-antagonist Nolan leaves the country.”
Matthews’s sarcasm hung in the poisoned air. Nolan said nothing; however insulting the words, the COS endorsed his wishes. He looked at Hecker and moved his head an inch in either direction. The ambassador filled the gap in the dialogue by wondering why the local police didn’t operate like they did back home in Illinois.
The meeting broke up. Hecker suggested Nolan wait in the Vault as the attendees filed out. Nolan saw Hecker buttonholing Matthews outside the door. Soon their voices were competing, fading into the distance. So much for that private word with Hecker.
CHAPTER NINE
RANGOON HEAT
SUNDAY, MARCH 9, RANGOON
Millie stayed behind, disconnecting cables and tidying up. “When was the last time you checked your Agency email, Bob?”
“Damn. Thursday afternoon. Why do you ask? Can you get me logged in?”
“This morning there’s an ASEAN- and South Asia–wide request from Head of Asia Burns for researchers to go to Singapore for up to two weeks to work on an intra-agency MH370 task force. I’m going to lobby Lloyd. I was wondering if the task force is something you’d be
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