Tran openly chuckled. “I’m sure the navy of the United States has some very formidable assets at its disposal. But if you expect to wipe out East Indian piracy in a single blow, I fear you will be sadly disappointed. Piracy is not a crime in these waters, it’s a culture.”
Tran raised his glass of ice water. “Western and regional governments have been trying to eliminate the trade for over six centuries and have failed. Your nation should not expect to do better.”
Christine Rendino continued to study him with that catlike fixation. “No, we shouldn’t, not in the sense of eliminating every Bugis marauder hiding out in every backwater cove in the archipelago. But maybe we can return East Indian piracy to what it once was, a scattering of disorganized criminal gangs operating independently with limited resources. Just maybe we can take out this new pirate king and the infrastructure he’s building. Oh, and on the side, we can grab our satellite back. Does that hit you as doable?”
Tran scowled. He wasn’t certain yet, but if this could somehow be real… “Answer me this, Commander: How serious is your government about this affair? Is this only someone’s politically expedient stunt, or are they willing to go to the extremes that may be necessary?”
“I personally know the two individuals who’ll be running this operation,” Christine replied soberly. “You have my word that they will do whatever has to be done. And they aren’t the kind to worry overmuch about the rulebook.”
“And you have contacted my government concerning this operation?”
“No, we have not contacted the governments of either Singapore or Indonesia concerning our intentions. Nor do we plan to until we have located and identified the cartel leadership beyond all questions. We’ll be working covertly within Indonesian territorial waters. We’ve elected to operate in this fashion because, like you, we suspect that the cartel has infiltrated the security and foreign affairs ministries of certain of the regional governments. We’re no longer sure whom we can trust.”
“Commander Rendino,” Tran replied, “I can assure you that Singapore has the most honest, secure, and corruption-free government in all of Asia.”
The inspector paused and took a sip of his ice water. “And having said that,” he continued with an arch smile, “I may also assure you that any communication you might have with my government concerning anti-piracy operations in these waters would be in the hands of the cartel leadership within… I would say, twenty-four hours at the outside.”
The intel’s eyes widened. “That bad? Even here in Singapore?”
“That bad, Commander. And it’s worse in Kuala Lumpur, Bangkok, Bandar Seri Begawan, Manila, and Jakarta — especially Jakarta. You might even want to be circumspect to a degree in your dealings with Canberra. But to continue, how might I be of help? I am only one man.”
“A man who has spent his entire life studying the problems of piracy in Southeast Asia. My people at NAVSPECFORCE intelligence have been looking at your career very intently for the past couple of weeks. We have the articles and papers you have written as well as copies of the memos and reports you’ve filed on the subject with various government ministries here in Singapore.”
She shook her head, cutting off his puzzled query. “Don’t ask, we just have them. At any rate, we think you may very well be the most knowledgeable ‘hands-on’ expert alive concerning East Asian piracy. Also, by reading between the lines of those reports, we suspect you know a hell of a lot more about certain things than you’ve written up.”
“I do,” Tran replied frankly. “But as you say, I’m the most knowledgeable expert alive. To speak… imprudently in these matters could bring about an abrupt change in that status.”
The American woman’s eyes narrowed and she smiled humorlessly. “But you’d risk it if it would mean hitting them hard, just once, wouldn’t you?”
Tran studied the glass in his hand. It was like something from the old Muslim seamen’s myths, the Sinbad stories that had been born here in the East Indies. One day, when you least expect it, a pretty genie pops out of a bottle and offers you your most heartfelt desire. But at what price?
“What would you want me to do?” Tran inquired slowly.
“We’d like you to come with us. We want you to serve as an adviser on the region and on the cartel’s operations. Tell us what we don’t know. Show us what doors we have to kick in. Help us take down the king. It will all be unofficial. We can offer you nothing in return except for maybe a little satisfaction.”
“And maybe peace.” Tran barely heard his own murmur. He looked up at the intelligence officer. “A final question. If you can’t trust my government, how can you trust me? How do you know I might not be in the pay of the cartel as well — a professional red herring, as it were?”
Christine Rendino smiled again, her eyes softer and the smile sympathetic and knowing. “I’ve been studying more than your reports, Inspector. I’ve been studying you as well.
“For example,” she continued, “you’re Vietnamese, a boat person. You were born in Saigon and, in 1986, when you were eight years old, your family attempted an escape from Communist Vietnam. You, your father and mother, and your fourteen-year-old sister attempted a crossing to the Malay Peninsula with twenty-four other Vietnamese aboard a small fishing boat.
“You didn’t make it. You were intercepted in the South China Sea by pirates. After shooting or knifing all of the men, including your father, and raping the women, including your mother, they stripped everything of value from the boat, including your older sister. Afterwards, they emptied an automatic rifle through the bottom and left a dozen women and children aboard a sinking wreck without food or water.
“You clung to the semisubmerged hulk for four days before being rescued by the USS Sacramento. There were three of you left alive; your mother was not one of them.”
Images wheeled behind Tran’s eyes as the American officer continued to speak in that soft, even voice. “You ended up in an orphanage here in Singapore. You proved to be an exceptional student and school athlete. After volunteering for a tour in the Naval Defense Forces, you went on to college, and then to the national police.
“For all of this time, you had two driving motivations. One was an abiding hatred for piracy and all pirates everywhere. The other was the search to find your sister.”
“You are indeed a skilled investigator,” Tran commented ruefully.
Christine gave her head an acknowledging tilt. “I have my moments. Eventually, you did succeed in finding your sister, but not in the way you hoped. In the summer of 2002, you learned she’d died of a combination of AIDS and syphilis two years before in a Bangkok brothel.”
How clear those storm-toned eyes were. How they held his own. “Oddly enough,” she went on, “the brothel owner who had purchased and managed your sister died shortly thereafter. He was found shot in his apartment, execution-style, with a single 9mm bullet behind the ear. The usual suspects were rounded up but the killer was never found. Not that anyone bothered to look all that hard.
“Interestingly, there was a second unsolved murder a short time later, this one in a coastal village on the Malay Peninsula. A wealthy but rather notorious retired fishing-boat captain with a suspected history of South China Sea piracy was also found dead, execution-style, a single 9mm round behind the ear.”
Christine Rendino set aside her cup and reached across the table. With a single fingertip, she lifted the side of Tran’s jacket, revealing the butt of the 9mm Glock automatic.
“I prefer a SIG Sauer P226 myself,” she said, settling back into her chair. “No, Inspector. I believe that if there is any person in Southeast Asia we can trust in this matter, it’s you. Throw in with us, Tran. Help us take these guys down. There are a lot of other girls out there like your sister.”