The Timor Man. Kerry B Collison

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СКАЧАТЬ warned him to wait for developments to occur.

      “Damn the little bastards,” he muttered under his breath before turning his thoughts to the argument taking place behind him regarding the Second Test cricket series.

      Merauke — Irian Barat

       Indonesian New Guinea

      The weapons were moved out of the safe houses during fajar as this was when the villagers were least observant, engrossed in going about their own morning ablutions. This had been the eighth load, as the inventory had to be broken down into manageable shipments. Another four, maybe five days and the entire group could vacate the premises pending the next cargo’s arrival.

      “Awas, lu!” the leader warned as the heavy box containing South African semi-automatic rifles began to slip from the lead man’s grip. “ Cepat, cepat ,” he urged, encouraging them to hurry. The team of Timorese struggled and groaned as they carried the crates out to the waiting vehicle. “Cukup dulu ,” enough, the leader hissed, “ kunci pintunya dan jaga baik-baik!” ordered the Javanese, to ensure that the security locked the premises and guarded the armoury well.

      “Besok saja kembali,” he advised, undertaking to return the following morning. The dilapidated four wheeled drive Russian version of the American A-2 Jeep then departed, carrying the officer and the remaining two team members.

      They headed east for an hour and then stopped. Another vehicle was waiting for them. The weapons were transferred to the other vehicle. The men all worked silently.

      No one spoke. This had been one of their instructions, and the teams now always adhered to their leader’s orders. They had all witnessed the execution of two of their number for ignoring orders. Before departing from Dili they had been warned. Now they obeyed. The transfer completed, the men returned to town and slept in the losmen, remaining in their rooms until being called.

      They repeated this procedure over the following four days until the gudang was empty of any remaining evidence that weapons had been stored there. On the fifth day they boarded a small coastal freighter and returned to Dili. There were now seven thousand rifles stored in twenty hidden armories throughout the New Guinea border area.

      Jakarta

      The Ambassador was furious. The Military Attaché had, en passant , mentioned the visitor to the Head of Mission. He had not been informed. As ambassador he had absolute authority over all communications and any other activities which involved the Australian Embassy in Indonesia. He dictated a strongly worded message and instructed his secretary to ensure that the Communications Centre expedited his inquiry at level one traffic priority. The response to his tirade was immediate.

      MOST SECRET

      FROM: MINISTER EXTERNAL AFFAIRS .

       FOR: ADDRESSEE ONLY .

       ADDRESSEE: AMBASSADOR/AUSTEMBA/JAKARTA/INDONESI A

       YOUR COMMUNICATION RECEIVED AND APPRECIATED. YO U

       ARE TO ASSIST IF REQUESTED AND SUPPORT THE INITIATIVE ACTIVATED BY THE ATTORNEY GENERAL’S DEPARTMENT .

      THIS AUTHORITY ORIGINATES DIRECTLY FROM THE PRIME MINISTER’S OFFICE AND YOU ARE FURTHER INSTRUCTED NOT T O

       ENTER INTO ANY FURTHER COMMUNICATION REGARDIN G

       THE SUBJECT .

       COURIER DIRECTED TO NON-DIPLOMATIC RECIPIENT .

       MESSAGE ENDS .

      EXAFF/REF/PM

       CODE:173224. NO ACKNOWLEDGMENT REQUIRED.

      MOST SECRET

      John Anderson had not ventured into the field for some considerable time. His seniority and knowledge of the subject matter demanded his personal participation. The director had no choice but to elect to keep this particular activity strictly covert in nature. The Prime Minister was explicit. He would accept no responsibility should it fall, as they say, ‘off the tracks’. He had slipped surreptitiously out of Canberra, travelled via Hong Kong and Bangkok and was now in Indonesia. Upon arrival at Kemayoran Airport, Anderson went immediately to the old Hotel Duta and used the archaic telephone. Reaching his party he delivered guarded instructions for the meeting then, settling back in the rotan chair, removed his tie and waited.

      Twenty minutes passed and his contact arrived not in an Embassy vehicle but in an old Mercedes 190. The black pirate taxi pulled into the driveway adjacent to the beer garden where the passenger alighted, paid the fare, and waited for the cumbersome vehicle to depart. Identifying the visitor sitting on the patio, he then approached, obviously agitated.

      “Hello, Stephen,” Anderson said, rising perfunctorily to shake the annoyed Attaché’s hand, “you made good time considering the appalling traffic.”

      Platitudes, always platitudes, Coleman thought. He really didn’t need to be called out at this time. He was already up to his neck in other assignments and was angry at being dragged away from these tasks. Even by his director!

      “It wasn’t all that far,” Stephen replied, anxious to cut through the pleasantries quickly to discover the nature of Anderson’s visit.

      He was surprised to receive the call and was concerned when he identified the voice. They had not communicated directly for some time.

      “Sorry about the surprise. We decided not to advise you via the Embassy channels as this visit is strictly on a need to know basis.”

      ‘Aren’t they all?’ Coleman thought, annoyed that he had been dragged out in public to meet at the Duta Hotel, of all places.

      He looked anxiously at his watch. The older man understood the gesture and wasted no time in imparting his instructions. Stephen would understand the urgency once he had been briefed. The director knew that.

      Anderson continued. “Not even Foreign Affairs has been informed, however I will need to appear at the Embassy to speak to the Military Attaché briefly. He will be advised that I am travelling informally and I will treat the meeting as a courtesy call.”

      The soft spoken Intelligence Liaison Chief than dropped his voice to a level at which even Coleman had difficulty hearing. He bent forward and listened. Occasionally he shook his head or merely nodded to indicate agreement. They continued in this way for almost an hour before Coleman took his leave, disappearing into the pedestrian traffic as inconspicuously as he had appeared. The director watched him leave concerned that Coleman showed signs of stress. He ordered more coffee, paid the bon and waited for his change while carefully scrutinizing his surroundings. Confident that sufficient time had elapsed since the other man’s departure he also left, following Coleman’s steps.

      Thirty minutes later Anderson arrived at the Embassy and asked the reception if he could speak with Colonel Wilson, the Military Attaché. He was ushered upstairs to the third level of the new building. The butterfly roofed four storied structure was often mistaken for the Japanese Embassy which stood alongside, all twelve stories, most of which were their Trade representative offices. The Japanese had understood, even then, how to impose their presence and economic grip on neighbouring countries.

      The Warrant Officer escorted СКАЧАТЬ