Once again, pages from my novel, The Force of One Wednesday 04:20am - Amphoe Chaing Khan Midaris and Prak followed the old oxen trail from the edge of Amphoe Chaing Khan toward the Loei River. The trail had been worn deep by the oxen that had traveled over it for many years. Prak had walked the trail many times, and as always the moonlight shining on the trail ahead and the silence gave the land a ghostly image. Wednesday 06:04am The two stopped at the tree line and scanned the open area where the hut sat on the river’s edge. Prak was always cautious when he approached the hut that he had shared with his cousins. He could see his river craft tied to the dock as he had left it. They left the tree line and walked to the hut cautiously. Once inside they removed their back-packs and went to the river to check Prak’s craft. Everything was in order and ready to run. When they went back to the hut Prak made a pot of coffee and when it was ready he and Midaris sat at the small table and talked about the nine prisoners. Prak stated, “I too was surprised when I heard that they were being transferred to Sainyabuli. I believe as you do about there being a significant reason to move them all the way across Laos.” Midaris nodded in agreement and said, “There must be a prisoner or prisoners that someone in the hierarchy of the Communist Party wants to interrogate.” “Yes, I think as you do,” Prak said. They continued to go over the plan of the rescue for some time until Prak raised a question. “Our Section Chief told me that you favor the blade, can I see what you use?” Midaris grinned and said, “Sure, if you show me yours.” Prak reached behind his waist while Midaris reached over his right shoulder. Prak was holding the famous Fairbairn-Sykes Commando Knife. The long, double-edged, pointed blade looked deadly. Midaris’ weapon of choice was a Seal MACV-SOG Combat, Survival Bowie Knife that had been modified to a perfect balance between hilt and blade. On seeing Prak’s’ knife, Midaris asked, “You can actually throw that thing?” “Let us go out and I will show you.” Midaris returned his knife to its sheath behind his right shoulder and followed Prak out of the hut. At reaching the rear of the hut, Midaris saw a target of about three foot in diameter mounted on the hut wall. There was a worn area on the ground, about thirty feet from the hut where Prak stopped and then turned rapidly to face the target. Midaris was astonished when he saw Prak’s knife in the target and said, “How long have you thrown?” Prak smiled and answered, “Since I was just a wee lad. My father taught me. He was a Commando in World War II.” In a swift fluid motion, Midaris reached behind his shoulder and seconds later his combat ‘Bowie’ was in the target next to Praks. “I’m impressed. How long have you thrown?” Prak asked. “I started when I was about fifteen on the Chitimacha reservation. My uncle Jules taught me some and the rest I learned on my own.” They threw for an hour and then went back to the hut to plan the rescue attempt of the American and Australian prisoners. Thursday 05:00am The two, now aboard Prak’s river craft, were finalizing there plan to rescue the prisoners. “Are you comfortable with the plan that we laid out,” Midaris asked. “Yes. My cousin Arikorn will be along just before daylight with his river craft towing a lumber barge. He will drop anchor in the middle of the river to slow the Laotian craft.” “That should draw the guards attention forward and we will board just aft of amidships,” Midaris said. 06:15am Daylight Arikorn had arrived with his craft and barge, and had tied to the starboard side of Prak’s river craft. At the mouth of the Loei River they waited for the Laotian river craft. Prak was dressed in a wetsuit and a brace of flat throwing knives adorned the black web belt around his waist. Midaris had on a Navy Seal Shorty wetsuit and a chest cross belt. His combat ‘Bowie’ was in a sheath behind his right shoulder. “What’s in the pouch?” Prak asked, looking at the black rubber pouch at Midaris’ waist. Midaris reached and took hold of the front of the pouch and gave it a tug. Prak was astonished at what he saw. On the inside of the pouch were three rows of ‘Hira-Shuriken’ (Shinobi, four bladed, throwing stars). They were attached to the pouch by small knobs that protruded through the stars center hole. Midaris removed one from the pouch and handed it to Prak, saying, “These are used mostly for distraction of your opponent. If used correctly it will maim your opponent and put him out of action.” Prak patted the throwing knives on his belt and said, “These will put them out of action also, permanently.” Midaris nodded and said, “You have your way, I have mine.” “You have qualms about taking a life,” Prak asked. “It’s not that. If I find that it is necessary to protect my life or others around I will take a life. But as a Buddhist I was taught that all life is sacred. But as a follower of Zen Buddhism I also believe what is written. ‘Warriors who sacrifice their lives for the emperor will not die. They will live forever. Where there is absolute loyalty there is no life or death.’ “The emperor is your country?” Midaris nodded and said, “My country, my family, and all others of the Light.” “Of the Light, you mean like Christians?” “Yes, you can say that.” “That is something that I can understand,” Prak said. “What time do you think we can expect the Laotian craft?” Midaris asked. “They probably spent the night at Kang Pier. No Laotian river craft will venture this part of the river at night. There are very weary of Burmese pirates.” Thursday 11:00am Prak looked at Midaris and shook his head saying, “Something is wrong. They should have been here by now.” Midaris nodded in agreement and said, “I’ll give Mendel a call.” “M, Have a Look-see, calling In Your Spell,” Midaris spoke the words softly into the dark green, two way radio. After thirty seconds, Midaris spoke the words again, “M, Have a Look-see, calling, In Your Spell.” Several seconds later his call was answered, “I tried to call earlier but could not get a signal. They made their delivery yesterday. They are at the point we spoke of.” “No problem. M, Have a Look-see out,” Midaris said. Prak uttered a few choice Thai words, stood and walked to the bow of his boat. Midaris followed and asked, “They must have reached the place where the prisoners will be held.” He was silent for a moment, and then asked, “What do you know of the Distillery?” “Just south of where the Mekong turns and goes north there is a private owned distillery near the Thailand border. There are numerous buildings in that area that are used for distilling operations and also housing workers. It is the largest distillery in Laos.” “Do you have firsthand knowledge of this area?” “Yes, I went with the Thailand Border Security people a few times to do recon of the area. I have photographs of the distillery and all of its buildings at the hut. Also there is a helicopter landing pad near there, on our side.” “Can you recruit and arm a few more people from Bangkok and fly them here today,” Midaris asked. “I have seven armed and ready, but not until tomorrow morning.” “Good enough. Let us go back to the hut and you can call by land line to make the arraignments.”
Posted on: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 04:02:20 +0000