right, Wallace hadn’t liked the word “if” where he had broken off in the middle of the sentence. It seemed to indicate that there was a possibility of somebody, most likely Wallace, being apprehended. Nevertheless, he nodded, having got this far and utilised the hotel accommodation paid for by Bramble’s masters he couldn’t very well countenance backing out now.
‘We are not a major nation on the world stage, whatever our leaders may believe as our revered Prime Minister flies off to London, New York, Washington and Paris, so anywhere else this type of manoeuvre may be quite unnecessary,’ Lincoln paused to allow a smile to pass his lips, presumably a grim smile – military personnel above rank of captain for the use of! Then the smile vanished, presumably in response to a crisp internal command, and he continued.
‘Here it is a little different, being close neighbours and what amounts to a Western nation within an Asian context, there is much interest in what we do, say or like. The former Communist nations are well represented here, as are the Muslim nations of the world, they all like to know what we and New Zealand are doing because to a certain extent it gives them some insight as to what the Americans are thinking.’
He paused briefly then continued.
‘If they can pick up anything from us that conflicts with the usual red herrings flung at them by Washington and the CIA they consider that what they get from us could be the truth. So, we have to be careful and watch what we say and do.’
He paused to sip his coffee; each movement of his lips and hands was geared not to spill a drop, the cup presumably being tilted at the regulation angle permitted by the powers at Duntroon.
Wallace was beginning to like the sound of this less and less, but couldn’t think of any way of getting himself off the hook. Major Lincoln was assuming that he was going to do the job, which was probably his means of ensuring that Wallace did carry it out – once again the salesman’s assumed close.
‘We have arranged for you and our contact to meet in a setting somewhere in the city, where you can meet casually and exchange views – and the package. Then you bring it back here, and we place it in the Diplomatic Bag. Simple isn’t it?’
‘Er…yes,’ it did sound simple and confidence began to return. ‘I haven’t got to take it out of the country then?’
‘No. Leave that to us.’
Wallace raised one eyebrow. He seemed to recall that Diplomatic Bags were, by international protocol, not to be used for espionage or intelligence. He mentioned that to Lincoln.
‘This isn’t espionage, this is information inasmuch as it relates to Australia,’ Lincoln said somewhat curtly. Wallace pursed his lips and dismissed it, he didn’t want to become involved in an argument about semantics, presumably the diplomats knew the rules and it was not up to him to question it. Another thought occurred to him.
‘How do I meet this courier of yours?’
‘You will have an appointment with Mr Fernandes, he runs a theatrical agency style business, and he will allocate the assignment for you. All is taken care of.’
I bloody well hope so, Wallace thought bitterly, and cursed Bramble again.
‘One further point, if there are people watching the embassy, won’t they know that I’ve been to see you?’
‘No because you haven’t.’ Lincoln replied. ‘Your appointment was with the Commercial Attaché not with me.’
‘Is that why I wasn’t in the appointment book?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Is that why your receptionist couldn’t find my appointment in the book?’
‘It was in the book!’ Lincoln snapped.
‘No it wasn’t, that is…when I asked for you and gave her my name, she couldn’t find any trace of me anywhere.’
‘You did what?’ for once Lincoln was jolted out of his military precision and composure, his wrist brushed the coffee cup and caused some waves on the surface that probably exceeded regulation height.
‘I asked…!’
‘I heard you the first time. Shit!’ Lincoln ejaculated. ‘Didn’t Bramble brief you to ask for Mr Miller?’
‘No!’ Wallace answered shortly, and all of his unease returned. Bramble had not briefed him on that, the name of Miller didn’t ring a bell at all.
‘Christ Almighty!’ Lincoln drew his sleeve across his forehead in a, for once, imprecise gesture. ‘I’ll chew someone up for this.’
Wallace hoped the chewing up candidate would be Bramble.
‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, with some trepidation.
‘No, I think not. I guess all embassies are paranoid about informers within them; we tolerate them for being useful for passing incorrect information at times. But we don’t like people calling upon me to be noted, that’s all, as you can understand. However, we are fortunate in that one suspected informer is off sick today.’
‘I see.’
‘Nevertheless, I’ll have someone’s guts for this.’
Wallace shuddered, hoping that his would still be intact by the time he reached Australia again.
On return to his room Wallace found his mobile telephone didn’t work, he had left it on charge but the battery was still flat. On trying the room phone he found that didn’t work either. He emerged into the corridor heading for reception and found a porter hovering around outside the room. He seemed to know what the trouble was and Wallace began to smell a rat.
‘How long will it be out of order?’
The porter shrugged and spread out his hands and Wallace’s suspicions grew. Indonesia, like so many of the nations based near the Equator – and many that weren’t – had a reputation for the sustenance of services being reliant upon an unauthorised supply of credit, in short, unless you have about $50 your telephone, which has suddenly ceased to work, will continue not to work this side of Ramadan, until the said $50 has changed hands.
‘Who do I have to see?’
‘No problem, I have a friend who knows how to fix these things, the Telephone Authorities will charge you about $100 to have it re-connected, my friend can…!’
‘Shit!’ Wallace hissed with such venom that the porter blenched. He eyed him uneasily, clearly not sure whether he was going to be a paying proposition or a punching one.
‘How much?’ Wallace snapped.
‘$50 American.’
Which was probably God knows how much in Australian currency. Wallace’s expletive had brought down the price, which had then been raised by the rate of exchange. Wallace half folded his arms and drummed his fingers on his upper arms.
‘I’ll see you in about half an hour,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to use the
