Suluang was pleased to see the anger on the colonel’s face. That was good. It fed his resolve. He glanced quickly at Rajasa and received an imperceptible nod. ‘We all know why we’re here. Indonesia needs a strong hand. Together, united, we have the means at our disposal to act in Indonesia’s interests.’
General Masri had been silent, Rajasa noted, nodding occasionally but hardly the strident advocate of military intervention they were expecting. They needed him. He commanded a powerful regiment of crack paratroopers. ‘Yes, it’s time to stop killing our own people,’ he said at last.
General Suluang raised his empty glass and saluted Masri’s sentiment. ‘You are absolutely right, Mao. We might be the shepherds, but our flock is wandering off. We need to regather them if Indonesia is to survive.’
The men looked at each other a little nervously. After the initial bluster, each man knew the course they were on was a dangerous one. ‘And,’ said Suluang after a pause, ‘I have an idea that will almost guarantee there’ll be no blood-letting on Indonesian soil.’
‘What of the Americans? How would they react?’ said Colonel Jayakatong. ‘They are an unpredictable quantity.’
‘Yes,’ said Suluang, ‘the Americans.’ He seemed to be placing the question under scrutiny as he took another toothpick and examined its point. ‘They do not want to see Indonesia disintegrate. They will appreciate the benefits of a strong hand holding the archipelago together. And we’re not terrorists, or religious fanatics. We have a legitimate concern for our country’s stability. If we say the right things about trade, promise a return to stability. Free elections, of course…’ The general shrugged dismissively.
The officers chuckled, the tension relieved. Suluang’s confidence was contagious. Of course the Americans would fall into line. And there was still so much occupying them in the Middle East. They’d be difficult at first, but they’d come around.
The young waitress again distracted Suluang. She was across the room folding napkins. A light from the kitchen behind her revealed long slender legs beneath the cotton sundress. Women: taking as many of them as possible to his bed was one of the advantages of power. Very few refused him. He caught his reflection in a mirror. He was a man of power and, at only forty-five, in the prime of life. He smiled to himself before calling her over on the pretence of ordering a drink.
‘What’s your name?’ he enquired after placing an order.
‘Elizabeth,’ she said.
Elizabeth caught him staring at her breasts between the buttons as she leaned forward to remove some plates from the table. She moved to improve his view.
Joe Light was wired. His video screen was tuned to the news while his fingers worked the keyboard of his laptop. The title track from
Within a few moments he was back in the world he was more comfortable with these days. His right hand gripped a vibrating joystick. On the computer’s screen, millions of colours coalesced to form a grotesque being. Joe smiled as it ripped the head off another warrior. The freakish thing on screen looked familiar. Joe had patched the game with a parasite that allowed him to attach his features to the computer character. He tapped the keys and the monster flexed, swelling its exaggerated pecs, chest and arms to ridiculous proportions.
