Sample chapter...
Tran Lim was a man well accustomed to dealing with crisis stemming from a lifetime of surviving at the razors edge. The eldest of four sons he came from a modestly wealthy family originally located in the north Vietnamese port city of Haiphong where close collusion with the colonial French had seen them prosper, until the dividing of the nation in the wake of the humiliating French defeat at Dien Bien Phu, known in local legend as ‘the arena of the Gods.’ It was here at this remote little ancient village cross roads of the Indo-China caravanning trade routes, that the French military high commander of the ground forces in Vietnam, General Henri Navarre, delivered up his troops to the slaughter in the quiet valley 30 kilometres east of Laos, 120 kilometres south of China and 320 kilometres west of Hanoi. A hitherto unknown flat plain some 19 kilometres long by 8 wide, ominously surrounded by high and densely jungled hills, now fated to play a deciding role as a bloodied chapter in history, and whose name would soon echo around the world and reverberate from the walls of crisis meeting rooms of the major western powers. The ill conceived plan, code named ‘Operation Castor’, was designed to lure the communist forces into a set piece battle against superior French artillery and air power, and was fatally flawed on several counts, predicated in the main by underestimating the enemy. On March 12 th 1954 French positions in the valley came under punishing fire from 100 - 105mm howitzers, 50 - 75mm howitzers, heavy mortar, 106mm recoilless rifles and Russian rocket launchers from extremely well concealed and fortified positions in the hills. Many of which were so well hidden that only the tips of muzzles protruded from their embrasures. Counter battery fire from the mix of French colonial forces, Legionnaire’s and elite commandos proved all but useless, along with the sporadic air raids which were quickly repulsed by equally well positioned and concealed anti aircraft fire, and the onset of massive human wave attacks gave a clear indication of the absolute determination of the Viet Minh to rid themselves of colonial rule once and for all. A fact brutally evidenced by the ruthless indifference to losses which accumulated in staggering proportions. The sheer tenacity and will that prevailed in hauling huge and cumbersome artillery though dense jungle and up impossibly steep hills was to carry through the following months of battle. By early April General Giap was obliged to reconsider his tactics of human wave attacks which had resulted in massive losses, and opted instead for the siege method of trench digging and more conventional attacks from fortified forward positions and bunkers. The opposing forces went underground with trenches being dug night and day by the Viet Minh as they remorselessly tightened the noose on the defenders. As the French perimeter became gradually reduced from an original fifty kilometres to a mere eight, the last of the high ground was taken thereby enabling Giap to bring forward his heavy artillery and pummel the French at will from almost point blank range. An unrelenting rain of death hammering down on the ever diminishing ranks of the defenders whose unrevetted weapon pits had quickly become washed out by the early monsoonal rains, the remains of their shrinking territory transformed into exploding lakes of thick mud, the ceaseless artillery shaking the ground so fiercely, that it prevented the wounded trapped in the sodden catacomb like dugouts from healing. Foul smelling gangrene could only be checked by allowing maggots to crawl about in the bandages and eat the rotting flesh of the injured and maimed. The death toll climbed ever higher while the parachuted French supplies consistently fell into the hands of the enemy, with the ultimate humiliation in that the shells that now rained down among them were their own. The closing stages of the battle saw great personal heroism from both sides in hand to hand fighting as the last of the defenders were overrun, but the eventual surrender by Colonel (latterly General) Christian de Castries at 5.30 PM on 7 May 1954 was to accommodate the much needed victory for General Giap, and in the process forever banish French hopes of hanging on to their treasured colonial prize.
Prior to the uprising Lim’s younger brothers had become increasingly caught up in the nationalist fervour sweeping the north, attending secret meetings, handing out illicit pamphlets and even participating in covert violent action against the French militia. Cadres and cells were being set up at a growing rate with political officers spreading the word through the outlying village hamlets, among the downtrodden labourers of the rubber plantations, and throughout the urban areas to reach every level of Vietnamese society. There were no class barriers to the faithful, and alongside the heavily oppressed proletariat the well off sons and daughters of catholic landowners, intellectuals and prominent artists were keen to take up the banner. Once embarked upon the nationalistic treadmill there was no getting off, and defying their parents many of the well educated younger generation ran off to become cannon fodder for the great general Vo Nguyen Giap. The nationalist army massing in the north presented them with an uncompromisingly ideological cause worth laying down their lives for rather than enduring another humiliating day of grovelling servitude to yet another rapacious colonial power. The Utopian dream of a united Vietnam . The three younger brothers had their wavering decisions to join up made for them by being entangled in a French secret police raid on a clandestine meeting being conducted in a deserted warehouse at the Haiphong docks. One minute the small audience of ten had been hanging on the every patriotic word being uttered from the candle lit face of the visiting communist official, when suddenly small arms fire rang out from the alley outside killing the teenage girl posted as lookout followed by the dreaded Sureté bursting into the warehouse. Two of the brothers had managed to escape along with one other conspirator by being closest to the rear door exit, which the raiding French in their haste had failed to locate and cover, but the youngest had been shot in the legs and was taken. Once outside the escapees from the raid quickly split up, racing along predetermined routes through the darkened streets and alleyways and finding momentary refuge in the labyrinth of cellars, hidden cupboards and storerooms. Within minutes of fleeing the warehouse they had all successfully gone to ground, the pursuing Sureté officers milling about in angry confusion, seeing nothing but moonlight reflected from the wet streets, alleys and rooftops, sensing the hostile rebellion lurking in every dark shadow, simmering behind every shuttered door and window. An ancient pagoda spire stood sharply silhouetted against a pale silver moon. It had been there long before the first invaders came to Vietnam , and would remain long after the last of them had been vanquished.
But those who had escaped the raid knew only too well that the captured unfortunates would not be able to hold out against the French torturers, legendary in their interrogation methods of the cruellest barbarism, and that inevitably their names would be given up before the night was through. That their own younger brother had been taken gave added impetus to the need for flight since it made no difference now whether anyone said anything or not. They would be judged guilty by association alone. There was no going back from that point onward, and each had each fled the city by daylight to become part of the expeditiously growing army undergoing training in the northern hills of Tongking and across the boarder in southern China .
Tran Lim viewed the situation with a far less idealistic perspective than his younger brothers, not being at all sure how he might find his way in the culturally sterile communist order which on face value had no appeal whatsoever, but the fact that his youngest brother had been caught in the raid had also forced his own move. Modest though the family wealth had been it was enough to present him with a taste for some of the finer things in life, and he failed to see any such benefits coming from the blinkered slavery of communism. Like countless others who had either enjoyed favour with the French or achieved some degree of success in commerce he realised that staying in the north was no longer an option after Dien Bien Phu, this then followed by the partitioning of the country at the seventeenth parallel by the Geneva Conference on July 21, 1954. For these and many other reasons hundreds of thousands of people began streaming south, following the withdrawing French forces in winding columns of human misery in the later months of the year, and he found himself obliged to join the flight while endeavouring to take care of his aging parents. The remnants of the once proud family had now been reduced to the humble status of refugees, but before leaving he managed to secure an ox drawn produce cart upon which they loaded their few treasured belongings for the long and tortutous journey. Their only hope for the future was to begin life anew in bustling Saigon . The political catch cry of the day was that ‘God has moved south’ but the journey to catch up failed to see much in the way of miracles bestowed upon the multitude of catholic faithful now so tragically displaced. As these people moved south they passed the north bound trek of communist sympathisers on their way to welcome the victorious Ho Chi Minh, who had at last come down from the jungle hill caves of Tongking to set up government in Hanoi . It was to be a time of consolidation of communist government and rearmament of his forces before entering the next phase of the war of liberation. Within four years many of those who had trekked north would be infiltrating back to the south again to set up small bands of communist groups designed to spread terror and guerrilla warfare through the hamlets and villages of the Mekong Delta and beyond.
The horrendously drawn out haul south from Hanoi proved too much for Tran Lim’s parents, and along with countless others along that perilous journey they died before reaching the southern capital. The spiritual grief of being banished from the shrines and resting places of their ancestors coupled with fact that neither of his brothers survived the great battle up north, and that the youngest had also perished at the hands of the French torturers, had ultimately been too much for the pair of them. The will to carry on in the face of such overwhelming adversity diminished with the passing miles, their emaciated bodies eventually growing weaker by the hour, and they eventually expired within days of each other.
Times were bitterly hard for everyone, and Lim’s case was no exception following the cruel division of the country wherein only the quick witted and the street wise among the refugees were able to survive and prosper. His wide experience in the port commerce of Haiphong stood him in good stead in regard to securing decent employment once settled in Saigon . Assiduously hard working and a great communicator he quickly rose to prominence in the burgeoning Saigon business fraternity before buying himself a commission in the ARVN. Such a move was highly judicious since the military had real muscle when it came to business, and his new found rank saw him quickly further his commercial enterprise with his outstanding talent for manipulation and control. Under the nepotistic Prime Ministership of Ngo Dinh Diem the climate for bribery and corruption was rife and readily paved the way for a man of Lim’s particular talents to rise to prominence. It was here he learned the skills and intricacies of how to discreetly pay for political favours and buy privilege at a whim. There was also a tremendous advantage in gaining favour with the Prime Minsters eccentric but cunningly clever brother Ngo Dinh Nhu whose oppressive security apparatus came in handy for ridding himself of business rivals on trumped up allegations of communist affiliations and subversion. A whisper in the appropriate ear would soon see the falsely accused bundled into a squalid prison camp, or more advantageously simply vanish from the face of the earth without trace. All the while he continued to build his business empire he kept a wary eye on the worsening situation of the war, and very soon determined that the Americans and their allies had no set strategy in place that might ultimately win them the conflict. He knew and understood the ruthless and determined mind set of the communist north, and that they would endure the most appalling suffering in order to eventually wear the invading imperialists down and send them packing. His own brothers had been part of the horrific losses inflicted on general Giap’s troops early in the piece, where sending repeat human waves against well fortified and deeply entrenched positions was perfectly acceptable. It boiled down to a numbers game between the generals, and clearly the north could afford to be more generous with human life, the frightful losses of which could not be so publicly fussed over by a poor and downtrodden nation with an unyielding commitment to the cause.
Having intelligently foreseen the long term outcome of the war he sought to take out some kind of personal insurance for the immediate future by trading intelligence and logistics information to the NVA. Once started into the cloak and dagger business he too became its victim in part, as through the late nineteen sixties and into the seventies the north increasingly built up pressure for more detailed information concerning the American and Australian forces. The invasive foreigners were the people they wanted to hurt most at this point in time while playing to the international gallery through their own media. The graphic television coverage served to feed and inflame the growing unpopularity of the war back in their home countries. The western media had become a very potent weapon for the north, and they used it with maximum efficiency to fan the flames of dissent in every publication and newscast.
Upon promotion to the rank of full Colonel, Lim was soon able to worm his way into intelligence staff meetings with the allies and thereby gain access to classified information concerning infiltration points and patrol details accordingly. His association with Pham Truc, the Saigon pimp and underworld figure, had been most useful for the dirty work of eliminating small business rivals in the very early days. It was also his introduction to the incredibly lucrative drug trade. Lim had achieved financial success and made admirable sums of money via the cut and thrust of day to day Asian business, even prior to establishing his army position and contacts, but the profit to be made from drugs was truly amazing. Staggering! The north made it even easier still by means of a strategy to have heroin supplied through their agents and made readily available to allied soldiers to further erode morale and diminish combat capacity, and so the stuff flowed south like a veritable river of money. Using the already established network his shady associate Truc had in place, Lim was able to reach out and expand overseas with the surplus flow with which he demonstrated an extraordinary talent for seeking out and developing new markets. Australia was at that time wide open for such market development, pristine and untouched by any real organisation, and so he stepped in to fill the gap and introduce a growing need. He quickly learned how the drug market became self sustaining in a very short time, supplying a western youth who indulged a reckless and foolhardy freedom of choice along with money to burn. That they quickly become addicts was directly the fault of their stupidly decadent parents who were too spineless to employ any real discipline where it was so obviously required. It therefore followed that they should pay the price while Lim reaped the profits, and in the process he built himself up an escape route for when the allies lost the war. There were a number of Saigon gangsters with the same thought in mind as the shadow of defeat loomed ever larger and darker over the south, but none of these hopefuls had Lim’s military clout which ensured an absolute minimum of competitors survived to realise their ambitions. Both he and Truc had seen to that. Those who did make the move only ever did so under his control, and it was during this period he set up an export company at Kowloon, in the British colony of Hong Kong, under the prevision that Saigon would no longer be available to him after the northern troops swept down from Hanoi. It was a careful balancing act of resource deployment and contingency planning, and he managed it with consummate skill.
The sole reason for trading military intelligence to the north via Truc had been for self preservation purposes only. He thoroughly despised communism and planned to be long gone before the mindless, slogan chanting peasant hoards took over the south, as indeed he knew they most certainly would.
In the event he was obliged to disappear a couple of years sooner than expected once he learned of the allies suspicion zeroing in on his espionage activities, and he very promptly sensed the CIA net closing about him. The only man in the south who could positively finger him at a military tribunal at that time was Pham Truc. And it appeared he too had also become the target of the same investigation trying to track down the information conduit to VC intelligence and the north, only in Truc’s case it came from an extraordinarily lucky and dangerously persistent Australian special forces soldier. The cowardly pimp Truc had fled to Thailand at the first hint of danger. Under no circumstances could he be allowed to fall into the hands of the allies or the South Vietnamese authorities who would unquestionably have him singing the lyrics to death warrants in very short order. Lim had a wealth of first hand experience and knowledge of just how quickly such information can be torn from the strongest and most dedicated people. With the likes of Truc he doubted there would have been so much as a token resistance, and he therefore wasted no time in having his former associate dispatched along with a member of the investigating CIA team in Bangkok by employing a neat little package of plastic explosive. Miraculously the Australian had survived yet again another well planned attempt on his life. Lim believed he had finally taken care of the resourceful individual after tracking him to the Gulf of Thailand and having him murdered by well paid and highly experienced assassins. There had been one irritating loose end in that the two Bangkok killers sent out to deal with the situation failed to return, reported missing in a boating accident in which he had been advised the Australian special forces soldier also perished. Having no reason to disbelieve the Thai police report he eventually closed the file.
Had he known the details of his associate Truc’s top henchmen having their heads blown off from the balcony of a Saigon apartment block along with the agonising death of an infamous underworld knife man, he might have put two and two together with these latest unsolved assassinations in Sydney and Canberra . But it was information that eluded him in the ongoing confusion of the war, and he rarely gave thought to events of the distant past. There was more than enough to concern himself with in the here and now as he carefully read through the front page of the Sydney Morning Herald.
The media were now in full rhetorical flight over the triple murders of such high ranking public officials, and the rampant speculation over allegations of bribery and corruption could be measured on the press Richter scale. The banner headlines were full of it. Whoever it was to have planted that list had shrewdly anticipated the panic it would create, and as calculated it had immediately turned the covetous graft rats tearing at one another’s throats. As a direct result of this damning information several had gone scurrying to the justice department in the hope of cutting a leniency deal. None of these people were familiar with Lim’s operation in the Pilbara however, and therefore he was at no risk from impending investigations into that select quarter of his empire. Of the men to have been privy to the Pilbara set up, information restricted exclusively to what they needed to know about the giveaway shipment scheduled for arrival at the port of Dampier , two had already been dispatched to the hereafter and were currently awaiting burial in the chilly confines of the Sydney and Canberra city morgues. The only other was the man in charge up in the Pilbara who was still very much alive, so his enemy could only have known so much.
Aside from this there was no real concern for Lim personally, stemming from any investigations to spring from the list (of which he now had a faxed copy) being able to hurt him either. The protection money paid to those on the take was unfailingly distanced from him at all times, and the main trouble it was causing was that of fiscal accountability pertaining to those who had been careless in their banking and investment arrangements. Nothing could ever be traced back to Lim from a single, solitary payment. He had long term and highly trusted bagmen to deliver the cash. These too were readily expendable if any investigations ever fingered them as being associated in any way. Lim had never once been along to pay off meetings with senior law enforcement officials. He only ever sent his minions to transact the business with used notes. Always cash. His one off poolside meetings with the now deceased were conducted solely for the purpose of establishing the deal, and it was the breakthrough that Harvey’s deep cover agent had been worked into position for these past three decades specifically to achieve. As with all police work waiting brings results, no matter how many years it takes, patience being the most potent weapon in matters of long term inquiry and investigation. Human failing added to the law of averages equals the inevitable mistake sooner or later, although in point of fact Lim had yet to make any serious miscalculation so as to render himself vulnerable to even the most minor form of prosecution. There was no mention of his assumed names on any police or D.E.A. files. So far as the authorities here and elsewhere were concerned he was a non entity. A series of names behind innumerable business fronts so complexly entangled and interwoven that it would take an army or corporate lawyers to sift through the upper layers alone. In the unlikely event that this ever got under way the very nature of the beast was geared so that it would abruptly change shape and form to enable him to forever remain at least one jump ahead. Mercurial and Machiavellian at every slippery twist and turn.