Tears of the Princess

By Melodie Thomas

Edited by Holly Hart

Chapter 9

Monday, September 20, 2010
We were at police headquarters early in the morning, and escorted to a much larger conference room, actually, this one looked more like a briefing room, with a front podium, a large display screen and rows of chairs facing the podium. The room looked like it could hold fifty plus people and there were currently around thirty in attendance. Everyone in the room, with the exception of Abdullah, Lin, myself and Yunram, were wearing camouflage fatigues, with various military type insignias. Two of the commanders that we’d met with on Friday were giving the briefing and they started off by telling Abdullah, as well as the rest of us, that they believed they had a plan that would work.

As they started the briefing, a three dimensional model of the hotel appeared on the display screen, and slowly rotated, showing all sides of the building. I could tell by some of the familiar detail, that the pictures that Lin and Sunan had taken were used to construct this model, as well as some aerial pictures, that I assumed had been collected over the weekend. The commanders repeated the concerns that we talked about Friday. Those were, the takedown would have to be a room to room search of the entire building, and, in their opinion, the best chances for success would come if the search could occur simultaneously from the ground up, and the roof down.

The plan they presented required two teams on the ground floor, one to secure a perimeter to prevent escape routes, and one as the primary assault team that would breach the doors and enter the building. The second phase of the plan was a third team that would fast rope from helicopters to the roof of the hotel, and enter the building via the fire escapes and third story windows. In order to accomplish the roof assault without giving too much advanced warning due to the sound of the helicopters, the proposed plan had the ground teams breaching the building seven minutes before team three would hit the roof. The theory being, those inside the building would be attempting to protect from the ground assault, and would fail to react fast enough to the air assault.

The briefing went on for a little over two hours, with everyone free to ask questions and throw out ‘what if’ scenarios. I found myself sitting in awe, watching Abdullah’s team work. There were no perceived egos, no unimportant questions, no one treated questions as personal attacks, and everyone’s opinion was valid and asked for. The team dynamics were amazing, and I felt my own confidence increasing that this would be a success, because these were truly professionals.

I started to let my mind wander to the question of what was next. What do we do after we have this hotel? The people that I really wanted were the buyers, the ones that feed the money into the system, and the ones that knew where the victims were. We needed to find a way to smoke out the Brajoviks, if that was really who was behind this, and the Chinese guy. Perhaps the people in hotel would know how to find them, but most likely not. Past experience has shown the Brajoviks were too crafty to leave an easy route to follow. No, I doubted seriously if anyone here knew how to find them. So, how do we get to them?

“Inspector, Abdullah,” I spoke up during a lull in the planning conversation, “if you don’t mind, I would like to throw out some thoughts for everyone to consider and give feedback on.”

“Certainly, Mr. McNeil, please.” Abdullah answered with a smile.

Since I was sitting near the back, everyone turned in their chair, looking back at me. “First, I have nothing to add to plan presented today. I am impressed. However, I have been thinking about what is next, how do we find the buyers, the ones taking the victims out and financing the operation? I don’t think the people we are looking for are sloppy enough to leave their addresses with someone inside this hotel, so how do we find them?”

Everyone in the room started talking to the people around them and I could see from the looks on their faces they were considering the question, and throwing around possible answers. In the middle of all of the conversations, one guy in the middle of the room stood. This was normally a signal that someone had something to say to the group, and the murmuring sounds died down.

“Well,” the camouflaged solider started, “for the first sale, the buyers came here, right? If there are victims in there now, can we assume the buyers would be planning to come back at some point?”

That comment triggered another two hours of brain storming and plan discussions. Abdullah had coffee and sandwiches brought in and bathroom breaks were taken only as needed, usually as a last resort. Pictures were drawn on the white boards, maps were laid out on the table, ideas presented, written down, debated, modified, accepted or rejected. By midafternoon the plan had been established, and agreed to by everyone.

A fourth team would be assembled from regular patrol officers and detectives, which would establish a perimeter a city block around the hotel. Surveillance would be set up twenty four hours ahead of the assault, and anyone leaving the hotel would be followed. If they returned to the hotel before the assault, no action would be taken. Those that did not return would be arrested at the same time the assault occurred and taken back to the hotel. At the conclusion of the briefing, we all agreed the plan was not foolproof, but felt it would increase our odds of success significantly. The only unknown was if we could get the schedule and contact plans out of the current occupants of the hotel. Which, again had Abdullah stressing we wanted minimum casualties. The timeline was set for the perimeter surveillance to go into place starting Tuesday morning, with the assault planned for Wednesday night.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The surveillance perimeter was completely in place by noon on Tuesday, and anyone leaving, or coming to the hotel was photographed, followed and their activities recorded. The best anyone could tell, all of the activities outside of the hotel were focused on supplies and necessities. Trips to groceries, hardware stores and department stores were common. The most interesting was a trip to the ladies department in a local shopping mall by two women, who stocked up on hundreds of U.S. dollars’ worth of cosmetics, which seemed to confirm there were victims on site, or who would be arriving on site soon. The good news obtained from the surveillance, was everyone that left the hotel, had returned to the hotel by the end of the day.

Because of our military and police roles, Major Yunram and I were allowed to be part of the second wave into the hotel after the initial assault. We would be going in with Abdullah. Despite her attempts to argue to the contrary, Lin would not be allowed to enter the hotel until we were positive that all resistance had been removed. It took some major debating, on my part, to convince her she had no business being around a possible shooting situation. Though she agreed, she hated being left out and accepted the decision grudgingly. Charlie and Sunan, though they were also not happy with it, were not going to be involved in the operation at all. To the best of my knowledge, no one knew who they were, and I wanted to keep it that way. I was building a lot of trust and respect for Abdullah, but I still wanted my own backup team in case anything went wrong.

The main ground assault team entered the four main entrances of the hotel simultaneously, at ten pm Wednesday night. Wanting as much disorientation and distraction as possible, flash charges were set on all four doors that blew the doors inward. We already had plans to replace all four doors before sunrise, if things went well. Seven minutes later, two Blackhawk helicopters dropped the roof assault team and three minutes after being dropped on the roof, they had breached the roof access and third story windows on all four sides of the hotel.

The Malaysian assault team members were carrying the Chinese QCW-05, silenced bullpup machineguns which would not be heard outside of the hotel, and the hope was not to raise too much attention from the surrounding neighborhoods. Other than the muffled sound of the Blackhawks, and the breaching charges on the hotel doors, which Abdullah said would attract momentary attention, but soon be forgotten; the only sounds we should hear would be hostile fire from those in the hotel. Fifteen minutes after the roof assault team touched down, the two teams met on the second floor of the hotel, and ten minutes later the hotel was declared secured by the team leaders. Not a single shot had been fired by those occupying the hotel.

As Abdullah and his support team, along with Yunram and myself, entered the front door of the hotel, radio reports from the assault teams indicated that eleven hostiles had been encountered, including two women. Two were injured by the breaching charges set on the doors, and one was killed when he attempted to bring a weapon to bear on the teams. Fourteen victims were also found, locked in separate rooms between the second and third floors. Team leaders were also reporting the victims were from Cambodia, and no one on the team spoke their language.

Abdullah immediately ordered that the hostiles, including the wounded, be taken to meeting room on the first floor, which had only a single door and no windows. He also ordered they were to be blindfolded and separated within the room with a no talking order. The team medics were to deal with the wounded until a doctor could be obtained. All of the victims were taken to what appeared to have been a dining room at one time. The victims were allowed to be seated as they wished, as the third team medic worked through them, one at a time, looking for possible injuries. Abdullah also put in a call to his main office with a request to find a Cambodian translator.

Abdullah and Yunram went to see the prisoners; I wanted to see the victims first. I received a nod from the two team members guarding the door as I entered the dining area. The victims seemed to be scattered in random groups around the room, all dressed in women’s clothing, wearing makeup, with various hair lengths and all had breast implants. The medic was still examining them one at a time, and a few of the victims were assisting him.

Even to my untrained or inexperienced eye, I could pick up three distinct groups among the victims. The first group that caught my attention was those helping the medic. Even though they were not required to, they were still wearing high heeled shoes, and walked with purpose and a feminine grace. I got the impression they were fine with the way they were and comfortable in the feminine role. On the other end of the spectrum, there was a group which showed very defiant looks and exhibited aggressive behaviors toward those trying to help them. A few had ripped their clothing off and were covering themselves with blankets or pieces of the torn clothes. They obviously did not want to be looked at in the weaker role, or the image they were portraying. The balance of the victims were just huddling together as if for protection. They were frightened and did not appear to know who to trust, or what to do. A few were crying, but most were just wide eyed and fearful.

Thursday, September 23, 2010
Two hours after the take down of the hotel, a medical support group, including Lin, had arrived on site along with three translators, one from the Malaysia police force and two from the Cambodian Embassy. Lin was spending her time with the victims, translators and medical staff, while I joined Abdullah working with the prisoners.

Abdullah had the prisoners separated into three groups, in three separate rooms, and did so without letting the prisoners know what was happening. The prisoners remained blindfolded and gagged, and Abdullah’s team would silently move them one at a time, out of the larger meeting room and into smaller separate rooms. In each of the rooms, the Malaysian team setup sound systems that played what sounded like the voice track of a horror movie. There were sounds of screaming, beatings and whippings, and with the volume turned up, it was painful to the ear. Each prisoner had their hands bound behind their back, were placed on their knees and forced to lean their heads against the wall. They sat in this position for hours, enduring the screaming sound track playing at high volume in the room.

The prisoners were left in this environment for three hours, while repairs to the outer doors were started, and police cars and other obvious signs of the activity were removed from outside the hotel. We wanted the outer appearance to be back to normal as quickly as possible. After three hours, the mental and emotional stress on the prisoners was obvious. Many had started sobbing and shaking from fear, though none of them had been touched, and were only being subjected to their own imagination of what was going on around them. It became pretty obvious these were not hardened combat veterans. Instead, they were thugs, hired to imprison and torment victims, not withstand stress to themselves.

Abdullah lead Major Yunram and me into the kitchen area of the hotel where some on his team and already setup a table next to the dish washing sink. The table had one end elevated by setting the legs on blocks, while the other end sat on the floor. The dish washing sink had a long, extendable spray nozzle used for rinsing dishes.

“A little trick we learned from your CIA.” Abdullah said, with a smile, looking at me.

I knew instantly what he was talking about, and from the gleam in Yunram’s eyes, so did he, “You are going to water board them?” I asked, with some fear.

Abdullah laughed, “No, I am a civilized man, but …” he nodded in the general direction of the prisoners, “they don’t know that.”

Abdullah nodded to two guards, who left the kitchen and returned a few minutes later leading one of the blindfolded prisoners. Wordlessly, the guards pushed the prisoner onto the table so he was lying on his back, with his head downhill. Leather straps were wrapped around his legs, waist and torso, strapping him to the table. After he was strapped down, his gag and blindfold were removed.

Abdullah walked up beside the man and looked down at him. “I am Inspector Abdullah with the Royal Malaysian Police. You and I are going to talk. Do you know what water boarding is?”

With fear in his eyes, the prisoner nodded.

“Good,” Abdullah continued, “then you know what is going to happen to you. You have a choice, to make this short and comfortable or long and painful. The choice is yours.”

Abdullah pulled the dish sprayer around to where the prisoner could see it, and then gave him a short spray of water in the face, but only enough to get him wet. The prisoner jumped as if being hit with an electric shock and let out a half scream/gasp.

“Now that you understand,” Abdullah said with a smile, “let us begin.”

Abdullah asked the prisoner what his name was, where he was from, how long had he been here, what his role was and who was in charge. The questioning was tape recorded and lasted about fifteen minutes with two additional quick sprays of water. When Abdullah was satisfied, the prisoner was released from the table, blindfolded, gagged, and taken to a different room, while the next prisoner was brought in.

The process lasted just under five hours, and by the end we had identified who the two leaders were. Abdullah had them separated from the rest of the prisoners. The balance of the prisoners were loaded into a bus and taken to the prison where they would be questioned in more detail by other investigators of the Malaysian police. The two leaders were kept at the hotel with us.

While the prisoners were being moved around, I headed back over to the victims to see how Lin was doing. The scene in the dining room was a lot more serene than it had been earlier. The majority of the victims were sitting in a group of chairs around some folks from the Cambodian embassy. Lin was sitting with another group of three. She smiled, stood and came to me as I entered the room.

“How are things in here?” I asked as she stepped up to me and I instinctively put my arm around her.

“Calmer, but still troubled. The hardest are the ones that are totally unable to cope with what happened to them. Earlier, it was anger they were expressing. Now it is turning more to depression as some think their life is over. They can’t see how they can recover from this.”

Lin steered me over to a corner of the room. “Dan, I think we need to bring Sunan in to talk to some of these guys.”

“Why?”

“They can’t relate to me, but I think they can to him. He has been through it and can show them it is possible to get past. I know you are worried about that, but right now the victims are having a hard time understanding what happened and why we are not letting them go home now.”

We had decided before the operation started, that we needed to keep the victims out of sight of the public, and probably at the hotel for a while. We needed to understand how the operation worked, and how we could get to the people in charge. Letting the victims go would risk publicity and letting the Brajoviks know, the last thing I wanted to do. Abdullah agreed with me, even though the Thai government was hounding for a press conference. Minister Chanweerakul agreed that catching the leaders of the group would give a better political statement, so they would wait.

I signed, “Okay, I will talk to Abdullah, I am afraid there will be an issue with Yunram, he is still looking for the second person that gave the interview to the newspaper that started this.”

Lin nodded, “Sunan told me he entered Malaysia with his U.S. passport, so there shouldn’t be anything Yunram can do.”

“Probably not,” I replied, “but I don’t trust that guy. How are the ones you were talking to?” I nodded in the direction of the three victims that were still talking to the translator.

Lin shrugged, “They seem to be doing fine. Not happy about the kidnapping and forcing, but they don’t seem to have a real problem with the outcome. They were more interested in my experiences once they found out about me.”

I left Lin to continue working with the victims, while I caught up with Abdullah. Regardless of the experiences I’d had over the past couple of years with Stephanie, Brenda, and Paula and now Lin Vin, I still struggle with understanding why some people either have the desire to, or accept the act of changing sexes. It was just something that I could not comprehend. However, I think Paula explained to me the best one time, in that I would never be able to understand it, I just needed to accept it. I have never had the feelings, or the emotions that others have claimed, so I can’t compare reactions or thoughts. Acceptance is getting easier for me as I know four pretty good people, regardless of their sex, that have had some experience in the topic. I fell in love with one woman that was not born that way, and, honestly, I think I am well on my way to doing it again, and I won’t even attempt to explain that, even to myself. She is just a good person, and I like her a lot.

I found Abdullah in the kitchen, waiting for one of the leaders to be brought in for questioning. I pulled him aside and told him about Charlie and Sunan, and as I apologized for not telling him sooner, he just smiled and nodded. I get the feeling he knew about them all along, but just let me play my spy game. After discussing with Abdullah, I called Sunan and Charlie, told them to work with Lin, and try to avoid Major Yunram, if at all possible.

Sunday, September 26, 2010
After two full days of interrogation, we felt we had all of the information we could get from the two compound leaders. With these two, Abdullah did not just threaten them, but actually subjected them to some very harsh treatment whenever the stories from the two of them did not match. The Malaysian police did use water boarding, sleep deprivation, loud noises and even electrical shocking, to get a consistent story from both men, in separate interviews. In the beginning, I had a hard time watching, or being involved in the treatment. Over time, I began to think of Stephanie, the remaining Thai victims and the fourteen victims in the other room, and what they’d had to endure. As I kept reminding myself of the other victims that I did not even know about yet, my sympathy for these two men faded quickly. I also developed a stronger trust in Abdullah, as I could see the toll this activity was taking on him. He was not enjoying it.

As the specifics of the operation began to piece together, we found ourselves faced with a number of new problems, and a lot of new information. That, I think, I was the only one that knew the significance of. The men that ran the hotel operation had no idea where their victims would be coming from. They would be notified by a posting on a web page that a new group would be coming in, and when to expect them. When the victims arrived, so did a bag full of money that paid their expenses, as well as themselves.

Neither of the men knew who they were really working for. They had been hired over a year and a half earlier by a man named Charlie, whose description matched Charkov, whom they had not seen in over a year. Since Charkov died on the island the same night Stephanie did, that made sense, it also aligned with another story that Smith had told me about Charkov coming from Malaysia when I met him in the Philippines. A few more pieces were tying together.

The men told us their operation had changed. In the beginning, they would only get five to ten victims. They were told what to do to the victims and when to do it. At the end of a three month period, all of the victims were loaded into a bus and sent away, never to be seen again. However, about eight months ago, the number of victims started increasing and the sales shows to buyers started. They would get a load of victims, would take three to four months to convert them to ladyboys, then some buyers would arrive and select the ones they wanted. The victims that were not selected would be drugged and returned to where they came from. The men were told this was easier than dealing with a bunch of dead bodies, and none of the released victims were going to remember where they had been, anyway.

As I was listening to the story, thoughts and theories were forming in my mind. The operation seemed like it was getting sloppy, leaving loose ends that never existed before. If Smith was running the organization, things would not be allowed to get this way. Vivian told me that night on the island, that she and Anya had started this business. Maybe, Smith was not part of it, but a customer to it. If my theory was right, that meant the U.S. government was somehow a client, which could tie into the information that I had from O’Keefe. My own interactions with Anya and Robert told me they were pompous and arrogant, more interested in their power, money and toys. Perhaps Vivian was the true brain behind the operation and now Anya and Robert were running it, again, more interested in the money and toys than anything else. That would explain the sloppiness, the loose ends. I needed to spend some time thinking about this. There was something here, I could feel it.

Our newest round of problems came in understanding how the system worked. Once a new batch of victims were brought in, the people running the hotel would photograph them weekly and post the photographs to a web site. This was the way their ‘bosses’, as they called them, could keep up on the progress leading to the next sale date, currently planned for October 23, four weeks from now. The pictures were always posted on Sunday, and today was Sunday. If we did not figure out how to post a new batch of pictures, the people on the other end would know something was wrong and our operation would be blown. Since previous pictures of the current victims had been posted, the only way we could come up with, to keep the scam going, was to convince the current victims to continue to play along.

Through the Cambodia Embassy interpreters, we presented that idea to the group of victims, and though the response was not what we had hoped for, it was what we had expected. Actually, it was a little better than we expected, as we did get eight of the fourteen to agree with the plan right away. The six that were against the idea, more like absolutely refused to participate, were the ones with the least acceptance of their circumstance. Of the eight that agreed, four made it quite clear they had no intention of remaining feminized, but wanted to get those responsible more than they wanted to change back right away.

Sunan had spent the last two days working with the victims, showing them it was possible to recover, to get their lives back. The victims that were most appalled by what they had become, took to Sunan as a friend, someone that had been through it, and the rapport they started building was bringing improved attitudes. However in the chaotic meeting that was ongoing, everyone was trying to convince everyone else what the right plan was. Everyone wanted to get those responsible, but what we were proposing was not a step some were willing to take. The translators were about to go insane keeping up with all of the conversations, and all the opinions that wanted to be heard.

The free for all conversations went on for about twenty minutes, when one of the victims who acted like one of leaders for the group of dissenters, stood up and gave a shrill whistle to get everyone’s attention. Then he kept saying something over and over until he had the attention of one of the translators.

The translator started speaking with the victim. “We all want to get the people who did this,” then looking at Sunan, “You told us that this is a small sacrifice, our embarrassment, to get these people. We have a question of you. If this is so important that we continue to humiliate ourselves, then it should be important enough for you to join us, and show your support.”

The room was dead silent for the first time this morning. Sunan’s month was hanging open in utter surprise as what was being suggested.

“We talked over amongst ourselves,” the Cambodian continued, “and we agree, if we have to play dress up for photos once per week than you can join us in dressing and photos and show us that this is the right thing, that you are committed to helping us.”

The room broke into udder pandemonium as everyone started talking again. Sunan turned to Lin and me with a look of complete shock on his face. “I don’t think I can to this, Dan,” he mumbled.

I was not sure what to say, remembering the words of an officer that I served under in the service, never ask your men to do something you would not do yourself. I was not sure I could do this myself if I was in Sunan’s position, but we really needed the cooperation of the victims to pull this off.

“Look, Sunan,” Lin started talking, “They are not asking you to change to a ladyboy, they are asking that once per week you play dress up with them and get some pictures taken. It would last no more than a couple of hours per week, you can do this.”

“Sure, easy for you to say,” Sunan said, still stunned, “but pictures? I need to have pictures taken?”

“No one will ever see them.” Lin continued, “We don’t need to post them. You are only doing this to get the victims through the next four weeks. Then, if we are lucky, you will be one of the drivers in catching the leaders of this operation and the ones that did it to you the first time.”

“But …” Sunan continued to hedge.

“What, you don’t have the balls to do this?” Charlie said, entering the conversation for the first time, with a little anger in his voice. “If dressing like a girl could have saved my sister’s life, I would have done it in a heartbeat.”

“Then you do it!” Sunan responded.

“Fine,” Charlie retorted, “but they did not ask me too. However, I would do it if that is what it took to get these bastards. Sunan, I have faced gunfights, knife fights and crawled through sewers to get victims out. Do you want to fight these people or let them win?”

The rage was clear in Sunan’s eyes as he stared at Charlie. Slowly the rage was replaced with something else, something that looked like determination. Slowly he started nodding his head and turned back to the crowd. “Okay, I will do it!” Sunan yelled, looking right in the eye of the leader that challenged him. “I don’t want to hear any whining out of you, either.”

Sunan’s words were translated and the lead dissenter’s eyes went from shocked, to awed, to a smile. He started nodding his head, speaking rapidly to the other victims around him.

Sunan turned back to Charlie and held out a closed fist to him, “Whatever it takes, we get these bastards.”

Charlie gave Sunan the expected fist bump, “Whatever it takes, mano, whatever it takes.”

I did not have to say a word through the whole exchange.

The chaotic conversations then turned into a room full of chaotic activity as everyone started getting themselves organized to get their pictures taken. Besides the victims, we had five women, counting Lin, two from the Cambodia embassy and two from the Malaysian police force. Lin grabbed Sunan by the arm and led him to the group of victims that had challenged him. The other four women started pulling together groups to assist with hair and makeup. Some of the victims seemed to be quite comfortable in their ability to put on a feminine flair, while some other were not, and needed more assistance.

Abdullah’s computer technicians were pulling up the past pictures of each victim in an attempt to determine if there was steady level of improvement seen week over week. Each victim would tour their own pictures, discuss something with one of the interpreters, and then head off either alone or with a helper to prepare for their photo shoot. The computer guys also found that the same background was used in all other photos that were currently on the web site. A discussion with the victims revealed a portable screen would be brought to their room each week for the picture session. We could see from the pictures online, that all the backgrounds were the same, and nothing else was seen in the picture to give away the location. After about forty five minutes of searching, the background screen was found in a storage room and brought to the dining area.

Almost two hours later, we had everything set up to start taking the pictures. We picked a small room just off of the dining room to be the photo studio, as we did not want the possibility of accidental shadows, or off screen movement to end up in our shots. Abdullah and Yunram left this part of the operation to Lin, Charlie and me, along with a couple of technicians. We were just about ready to start the shoots, when the door of the room opened and a girl walked in. She had long black hair, just below the shoulder, a well-developed bust line, narrow waist, flared hips and was wearing, what Lin described and the classic little black dress, with a high neck line and long sleeves. Her face had a creamy appearance, which highlighted the long dark eyelashes, light green eye shadow and glowing red lips. She seemed to move gracefully as she entered the room with four-inch black pumps and polished nails.

Charlie let out a low whistle, “I am sure glad Maria is not here. She would be jealous.”

“Watch it, farm boy,” Sunan growled back through his red painted lips, “or I will show you another use for four inch spike heels, and you won’t find that to be very funny.”

“Oh shit, Sunan, sorry, I did not recognize you.” Charlie responded with a smile and raising his hands in a defensive manner.

“Sorry, my ass,” Sunan continued to growl. “You push those buttons too far and Maria will be a widow before she is a wife.”

“Well, you really look pretty good.” Lin said, trying to get between Sunan and Charlie.

“Damn it, don’t you start too!” Sunan stomped towards us.

A spout of Cambodian came from the door behind Sunan as the victim that had challenged Sunan entered the room, decked out pretty much the same as Sunan. “He said, that is not very ladylike behavior,” the translator added, entering behind the victim.

Sunan performed a pirouette on the tip of his high heels, performed a curtsey, followed by extending the middle finger of his right hand into the air toward the Cambodian. “I don’t think you need to translate that,” he said with a smile.

The Cambodian broke into hysterical laughter that soon had all of us following suit. Even Sunan had a grin on his face as he took his place beside the camera and helped with screening of the past pictures.

The photography session took just over three hours. As each of the victims was getting ready to be photographed, we had to compare their current appearance with the past pictures that had been posted. We need to make sure we were following the same theme that had been used so as not to give away our game. All of the pictures were taken, formatted, and posted. Now all we could do was hope that it worked.

Monday, September 27, 2010
The four of us were joined by Abdullah for a late breakfast in the hotel. The majority of the activities at the hotel had subsided after the photo shoot on Sunday, and we were pretty much back to waiting for the next clue to lead us to the next break. Between Abdullah’s team, and the Cambodian embassy, a support staff had been put together to work with the victims at the hotel, make sure they had food, supplies and were as comfortable as possible.

“What are your plans now?” Abdullah asked, as coffee was poured around the table.

“We talked about that a little last night.” I responded, “Sunan has agreed to stay here and keep working with the victims on the weekly photo shoots, but will need some help with his visa.”

“I can take care of that.” Abdullah said, with a nod towards Sunan, “I assume you will be moving to the hotel?”

“Yes,” Sunan nodded, “I think that is the best way to keep a low profile, plus, it keeps me more in contact with the guys out there, and working with the translators, I may be able to learn a few more things about what went on.”

“I think Charlie plans to go back to the Philippines,” I said.

“If we have some down time,” Charlie said, “I have been trying to get my girlfriend a visit Visa for the U.S. so I can take her home to meet my family. Her interview with the embassy is Thursday, and I would like to be there.”

Abdullah nodded, “I don’ think there will be that much for you to do here for a while. We are still interviewing the prisoners, with a focus on understanding how the sale operates, the buyers communicated with, etc. We will try to have everything understood before the planned sale, see if we can pull this off. How about you, Lin?”

“I am not sure yet.” Lin responded with an expectant look at me.

“I have not really talked about it yet. I think I may go home for a few weeks.” I replied, with a glance at Lin, “and I was hoping that you would consider going with me.”

Lin’s face broke into a huge smile, “I guess I am going to the U.S. for the first time.”

Lin reached under the table and took hold of my hand and squeezed it, which brought a smile to my face. “Abdullah, anything new on the money transfer to Nightside from your Malaysian bank?”

Abdullah shook his head, “Not yet. We have confirmed the money transfer originated here as a onetime cash transfer. We have the signature of the person making the transfer and we have the video of all of the people that were dealing with the bank at that time. We have identified everyone in the video, except one, who we think is the person making the transfer. However, the name on the signature does not match with anyone we can find.

“We have also been in touch with the Cambodian authorities, and they are sending a couple of investigators here to talk to the victims in an attempt to locate where the ‘recruiting’ was done in Cambodia. Maybe we can get a few more leads from there.”

“Can Sunan be involved in those interviews?” I asked.

“I think that would be a good idea,” Abdullah replied, “as well as a couple of my people. We need to make sure our victims are not tormented too much.”

We all bid farewell to Abdullah as breakfast was finished, and made sure everyone had everyone else’s phone numbers. Sunan packed his luggage in preparation for moving out to the hotel for the next four weeks or so. Charlie arranged a flight to the Philippines that left that afternoon. Lin and I decided to take the train from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore that evening so she could repack for a trip to the U.S. I scheduled flights for us from Singapore to San Francisco, leaving Wednesday. We all met in the hotel lobby as Charlie was leaving for the airport and Sunan to the hotel.

“Don’t let that dressing up go to your head,” Charlie said, with a smile, as he shook Sunan’s hand. “Not sure I would know what to do with two girlfriends.”

“One of these days, beanpole, I am going to make you pay for this,” Sunan responded with his own smile.

Both Charlie and Sunan shook hands with me, and got a hug from Lin, then were on their way. Lin made Charlie promise to let her know his travel plans with Maria, as maybe we could meet up somewhere along the way. Lin and I returned to our room to start packing for our train ride when my cell phone rang.

“Minister Chanweerakul,” I answered, recognizing the number, “how are you today?”

“I am well, Mr. McNeil, and how are you?”

“I am good Minister, what can I do for you?” I responded, as Lin came around and sat on the bed next to me, listening in.

“I am quite pleased with our working relationship, Mr. McNeil. Major Yunram had kept us well informed on the actives there in Malaysia, and I am pleased with the progress and the plan.”

“Thank you, Sir.” I responded with a shrug towards Lin.

“I am recalling Major Yunram for the time being as we wait for the planned sale date and see if your trap will bear fruit. He is on a flight to Bangkok this afternoon. Since our relationship is doing so well, I have something for you.”

“Yes Sir?”

“The name that goes with that photograph you gave me is Lt. General Zackary Williamson of your Army …”

I scrambled for a piece of paper while Minister Chanweerakul was talking.

“… He is a member of your military’s Special Forces operations command, and was in Thailand to discuss a proposed joint exercise here in Thailand.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my hands starting to shake a little as I wrote down the name. “Thank you, Minister Chanweerakul, I do appreciate the help.”

“As I appreciate your help, Mr. McNeil. Please give my regards to Ms. Wei.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you.” The line went dead.

I sat there for a few moments, staring at the name. An Army general that was attached to SpecOps would answer a lot of questions on how he could do the things he did. But how could he do them without others in power knowing about it? He couldn’t, it was that simple.

“Smith?” Lin asked, breaking my thoughts.

“Maybe,” I said, “but what do I do now?”

“Maybe give the name to your FBI friends and see if they can find anything?”

That was the same thought running through my mind, letting both Mike and O’Keefe know the name and see what they could find, while Lin and I traveled to the U.S. I opened up the mail boxes on my laptop and posted the information to both, and told them I would be out of touch for a while, but did not tell either where I was going. With our train scheduled to leave in two hours, I closed my laptop, finished packing and Lin and I left for the train station.

The train ride should have been a fun and relaxing time for the two of us, but I could not get the possible identification of Smith out of my mind. I could not get an internet connection on the train, so there was nothing I could do, but the thoughts kept hounding me. As such, I am pretty sure Lin felt ignored by the time we arrived in Singapore, but she in no way showed it.

I checked in to a hotel for the night and Lin went to her home. Until she left, I did not realize just how much I had grown accustom to her company. As I sat in the hotel that night, I was not sure which was bothering me more, the fact that I could not find anything on Zackary Williamson on the internet, or that Lin was not with me. I finally gave up around ten pm and lay back on the bed, thinking of Lin.

“She is good for you, my Darling,” Stephanie said from the chair across the room, “You need to tell her how you feel and let her in.”

“But that is not fair to you,” I protested, “I will always love you.”

Stephanie smiled, “Yes, and I will always love you, but I asked you to move on, find another. She is a good woman, and can give you what I cannot. I know I will always be in your heart, I am not worried.”

“She reminds me so much of you, in so many ways,” I mumbled.

“My Darling, she is a good woman, and she needs you as much as you need her.” Stephanie said standing, “You need to be very careful now. Some friendships and offers for help will not be real. Be very careful from here. Be very cautious of trust, especially at home. Some support is just shadows and …”

My eyes snapped open in the darkness, a feeling of dread in my stomach. I jumped from the bed and turned my laptop on, pulling up the email account with O’Keefe. The entire account was gone, it no longer existed.