Rogue Element

‘There is a report in the newspaper this morning about a logging camp that appears to have been swallowed by the jungle. The owners, which include the Indonesian government, have not been able to communicate with the camp for twenty-four hours. Could this have some connection with your men in Sulawesi?’ asked Admiral Sampurno Siwalette, the newcomer surprising everyone with his bluntness.

‘I have no information on that, Admiral,’ said General Suluang truthfully.

‘You put a lot of trust in your Kopassus leader. And you say he is what, a sergeant?’ interjected Colonel Jayakatong.

The general surveyed the gathering. Support was sounding increasingly… questioning. ‘He is one of my best and most loyal men, of any rank.’

General Kukuh Masri listened intently while he considered his options. He was in a mild state of panic. It was astonishing that none of the other men seemed even remotely concerned that a civilian 747 had been blasted out of the sky by one of their own fighters. This was not something he felt comfortable with at all. ‘You have been quiet, Colonel Ajirake. Did you know about the shooting down of the Qantas jet?’

‘It could not have been done otherwise, General,’ said the air force man casually, leaning back in his seat, hands clasped arrogantly behind his head.

‘Can you trust the man who pulled the trigger?’ asked Masri, feeling all at once that he needed to put some distance between himself and these men but knowing, at the same time, that he had helped create the situation he now suddenly wanted no part of.

‘A fighter pilot’s life is dangerous. Unfortunately, he was killed in a tragic accident.’

Masri noted the barest shadow of a sneer on the officer’s fleshy lips. A recent addition to their group, the colonel had obviously embraced its plan wholeheartedly. It was always going to come to this, thought Masri. Men would be killed to make their new Indonesia. So why was he squeamish about it all of a sudden? Perhaps he wasn’t upset at all but just afraid. No, it was more than just fear. He had agreed to join originally because he was fed up using the army, his men, against the citizens of his country. But shooting down a civilian plane? That was brutal — mass murder — and the fact that it was another country’s airliner didn’t lessen the barbarity any. He still believed in their original goals, but the way they were being achieved did not sit at all well with him. Events had hijacked all honour, he realised, and he was now a prisoner of them. He wanted nothing more to do with the scheme, but the question uppermost in his mind was what it would take to guarantee his own safety. How could he back out and still live to reach old age? He had tanks, APCs, artillery and several thousand soldiers at his disposal, but hardware would not be enough.

General Suluang realised that something subtle but irrevocable had shifted within the delicate balance of the enormous military and intelligence resources he had brought together, not because of what had been said by these men in response to recent events, but by what had not been reaffirmed. ‘This is not the way forward I would have chosen for our course of action,’ he said. ‘Fate has intervened. But whether we like the way it has begun or not, it most certainly has begun.

‘Between us we command a sizable portion of our country’s military might. We just need the will and the determination to wield it. As for the current situation in Sulawesi, Rajasa and I have discussed it at length. There will be no survivors of the crash. Within a few days, Australia will be invited to inspect the wreckage, as part of an international team, after our own experts have muddied the water a little on the reasons for the crash. In the meantime, our government will continue to say all the right things, offering the olive branch, smoothing the waters diplomatically until we are ready to go. But go we must, and soon.’

The men at the table were silent.

Suluang continued: ‘There have been no real setbacks here, merely an operational replan which, as military men, you all know can happen and are trained for.

‘Your men are ready and your equipment has been stockpiled. We will launch ten days from now.’

A yawning pit of fear opened in Masri’s gut. Ten days? That was sheer madness. It was not possible to push the button on many aspects of their strategy in such a short time. The amphibious assault alone required a good month of careful recruitment and fastidious attention to detail. Without it, many people would be killed. Indonesian blood would stain the sea red. He saw clearly all of a sudden that the coup would fail. He considered saying as much outright, but decided against it. Suluang and Rajasa had the mien of fanatics about them now. Obviously they were committed no matter what the cost. Masri wondered whether any of the others sitting at the table could see that to continue with the plan would be suicide. Not just for them individually, but for Indonesia.