Cull. Stafford Ray

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      He had just finished placing his family photographs into a cardboard crate and was looking around for the next item, when two Commonwealth Police officers walked through his open door and pinioned his arms. They applied handcuffs and pushed him roughly into the corridor towards the emergency exit.

      Not a word was spoken. They offered no explanation and he was speechless with surprise. He realised they had chosen a minor exit to avoid the ever-lurking press corps, but he could do little but try to keep on his feet as his egress was completed and he was shoved into an unmarked car, motor running and driver ready to gun the engine.

      As soon as the noise level dropped to normal inside the car, he asked reasonably, “What’s the charge?”

      “Suspected of offering aid to a terrorist organisation, sir.”

      The ‘sir’ carried the tone of contempt.

      “That’s crazy!” he objected. “Who issued that order?”

      “That’s for us to know and you to wonder about, sir.” He laughed derisively.

      Bouffler looked at the second officer. He had seen him before in the corridors. He appealed for support. “Tell this clown who I am, Officer,” he demanded. “I’m not some bum off the street that you can push…”

      “We know who you are, sir,” he said with even more contempt. “A bum is a gentleman compared to you terrorist-cell bastards. You’re going down big time!”

      He realised there was nothing to be gained by saying anything so he spent his time on the way to the lock-up pondering his ultimate destination. Would it be Christmas Island? He hoped it would not be that once pearl of the Indian Ocean, still the principal refugee processing centre but now a prison with a recent history of untold bloodshed and torture under the guise of anti-terrorism. Poor bastards. Now he was one of them. If he ended up there, who would know?

      11. MEKONG

      Darkness came quickly, bringing with it a sense of unease to people whose feet had never felt a deck and for whom the land over which they had moved always remained still, solid and predictable. Terror replaced unease when the captain called through the hatchway. “Be quiet. Soldiers coming!”

      He slid the hatch cover in place, this time with no gap. Their ears picked up the high pitched whine of a fast outboard, becoming louder, then backing off.

      The ‘whump whump’ of an inflatable bouncing off small waves replaced motor noise as it came alongside, then the soft thump of its gunwale hitting the hull ended the wait.

      Children were shushed but continued to whimper. Adult hands over tiny mouths smothered cries of terrified infants. Straining ears became aware of a radio playing loudly and wondered if it came from the soldiers’ boat.

      “It’s the captain,” Loi whispered. “He’s making noise.”

      The big diesel motor eased back to a ‘thunka thunka’ idle and the boat began to roll in the low swell from the river mouth. Loud voices were followed by the clatter of boots landing on the deck.

      “Hộ chiếu!” demanded a shrill officious voice. “Show papers!”

      Footsteps moved aft to the wheelhouse as ears strained and all eyes looked to where what started as flashlight beams were seen below as spots of light squeezing through the gap. Tiny stars of danger.

      Footsteps returned, followed by shuffling feet and low voices suggesting questions and answers. Suddenly the hatch was thrown aside. All eyes turned skyward and a torch beam blinded them to all beyond it.

      “Ha!” A voice yelled at the captain. “Who are these people? You are people smuggler. That big trouble for you.” He yelled into the hatchway, “Come out with hands up and lie on deck!”

      Children began crying openly, picking up the fear of the parents.

      Loi moved to the ladder but did not climb out.

      “Sergeant Loi here, Twenty-third battalion infantry. Any of you from the twenty-third?”

      “Who cares, Grandad,” the soldier laughed, waving the barrel of his pistol. “Come out or we shoot now!”

      As Loi’s head reached deck level, his attention was drawn to movement at the wheelhouse.

      “Want a bottle of Johnny Walker?”

      The liquor was in the captain’s hand as he walked into the arc of torchlight aimed at the hatchway. All torches were turned on him and the bottle.

      Snatching it from him, the officer waved the pistol in his face and laughed. “Only one bottle?” he yelled. “You expect me to ignore this for one bottle?”

      He walked towards the wheelhouse, two soldiers following. “Let’s see if there’s more where that came from!”

      Loi climbed back down the ladder and gathered his little family in his arms Lin Poi’s sobs subsided as he held her. The children were silent but shaking. Lin Poi held them close while Loi’s hands stroked their faces as he whispered, “It’s OK. It’s OK.”

      Yelling from above kept all eyes on the hatchway as light played over it from movement in the wheelhouse. They heard a thump and a cry of pain.

      “Where’s the money?” Another thump. “Where’s the money?”

      The captain’s voice was a whimper. “We spent the money.” A clattering of cans and sacks being thrown aside went on, then another thump.

      “All we have is fuel and food,” he objected. “There’s nothing here.”

      A scuffle followed. “What you say I shoot this boy?”

      “Captain’s son,” whispered Loi. “I have to go up.”

      Lin Poi held him close. “No! They’ll shoot you too.”

      Suddenly the noise stopped and a soldier laughed. “Look at this!” he yelled. “A case.”

      “What else is hidden here?” the officer demanded. Before the captain could answer, a new sound filtered through the heavy air. A marine diesel. Another fishing boat was passing on the other side.

      Sudden silence on deck was followed by a shouted order, “Back on board!”

      “Here, take your bottle and we keep the case!” The officer laughed. “Good luck. Hope you make it.”

      Running feet tap danced to the gunwale and over the side.

      “Di! đi! Go! Go! Go!” was the last shout they heard as the outboard screamed to life and powered away, its decrescendo soon drowned out by their own big diesel accelerating.

      The captain was giving it full power. Its bow was smashing through small waves that splintered and lifted on the rising wind, raining spray into the hatchway. They were at sea.

      Loi climbed out and reached down for the children. Lin Poi joined him on deck as other pale faces appeared over the rim of the hatchway and the fish hold slowly СКАЧАТЬ