Sapphires

By Jim Henry

Sapphires is written to entertain. Its conflict of ideals and outcome may surprise some, startle a few, and morally disturb many. Hopefully the reader will cry a little, think a little, and laugh a little.

During the Vietnam conflict, Hanoi ingeniously created a drug-cash-weapons triangle, patiently exploiting greed and personal weaknesses in its victorious efforts. Using narcotics from Burma as an offensive and defensive weapon, Hanoi directed the sale of drugs to military personnel and used the profits to purchase arms and munitions, often from U.S. supply depots. In addition, Hanoi used strategic timing and flooded U.S. troops with cheap narcotics, hindering military effectiveness. Thailand was a major highway for drugs into Vietnam.

Prevented, by diplomatic treaty, from taking direct military action, the Joint Chiefs of Staff created a multi-service covert unit, code name Sapphire, to interrupt the drug-cash-weapons triangle and identify as many corrupt U.S. military personnel as possible. U.S. Army colonel and Sapphire group leader, code name Blue, was John Leopold. John, a former SEAL, is a darling of the Joint Chiefs and on track to become a general officer. His carefully handpicked team consists of a navy lieutenant, code name Orange; a marine captain, code name Green; an air force nurse, code name Black; a Thai national, code name Clear; and a Burmese national, code name Yellow.

The Sapphires' main opponent is a Burmese family who raise and package for market a highly profitable farm product -
heroin. The Zawatees, headed by the family matriarch, Su Song, use profits from heroin to supply educational, health care, electric, and other services for the citizens of their southern Burma district, a district with a higher standard of living than in all of Burma. The Zawatees, and the citizens of their district, fight for the right to export their highly profitable farm product in order to afford and enjoy a high quality of life and first-world privileges.

The Sapphires'; through diplomacy, battle, personal sacrifice, and tragedy, manage a degree of success. While planning and carrying out the final Sapphire-Zawatee confrontation, Colonel Leopold, who has come to admire his adversary, resolves some very strong personal and cultural ideals.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 10, 2000
• ISBN: 9781524694289

Book preview

SAPPHIRES

By

Jim Henry

Copyright 1998, 2000 By Jim Henry

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written consent of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-5246-9428-9 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-1-5872-1105-8 (sc)

Contents

About the Book

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Author’s Notes

Sapphire

-1-

-2-

-3-

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About the Author

Opals from the Outback

About the Book

Sapphires is written to entertain. Its conflict of ideals and outcome may surprise some, startle a few, and morally disturb many. Hopefully the reader will cry a little, think a little, and laugh a little.

During the Vietnam conflict, Hanoi ingeniously created a drug-cash-weapons triangle, patiently exploiting greed and personal weaknesses in its victorious efforts. Using narcotics from Burma as an offensive and defensive weapon, Hanoi directed the sale of drugs to military personnel and used the profits to purchase arms and munitions, often from U.S. supply depots. In addition, Hanoi used strategic timing and flooded U.S. troops with cheap narcotics, hindering military effectiveness. Thailand was a major highway for drugs into Vietnam.

Prevented, by diplomatic treaty, from taking direct military action, the Joint Chiefs of Staff created a multi-service covert unit, code name Sapphire, to interrupt the drug-cash-weapons triangle and identify as many corrupt U.S. military personnel as possible. U.S. Army colonel and Sapphire group leader, code name Blue, was John Leopold. John, a former SEAL, is a darling of the Joint Chiefs and on track to become a general officer. His carefully handpicked team consists of a navy lieutenant, code name Orange; a marine captain, code name Green; an air force nurse, code name Black; a Thai national, code name Clear; and a Burmese national, code name Yellow.

The Sapphires’ main opponent is a Burmese family who raise and package for market a highly profitable farm product - heroin. The Zawatees, headed by the family matriarch, Su Song, use profits from heroin to supply educational, health care, electric, and other services for the citizens of their southern Burma district, a district with a higher standard of living than in all of Burma. The Zawatees, and the citizens of their district, fight for the right to export their highly profitable farm production order to afford and enjoy a high quality of life and first-world privileges.

The Sapphires’; through diplomacy, battle, personal sacrifice, and tragedy, manage a degree of success. While planning and carrying out the final Sapphire-Zawatee confrontation, Colonel Leopold, who has come to admire his adversary, resolves some very strong personal and cultural ideals.

Acknowledgements

I would like to express deep thanks and gratitude to my editors, Laurie Rosin and Maijie Weber, whose sweat, comments, criticisms, and overall teamwork made this story possible.

Dedication

This novel is dedicated to my mistress, critic, friend, and wife,

Jean

Author’s Notes

This is a work of fiction. While some geographic and political locations are real, all of the people and incidents are purely fictional, and any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Sapphire

Sapphires are a family of semiprecious and precious stones from the corundum group, which, in its most precious form, pigeon blood red ruby, often exceeds the value of the finest diamonds. Gem quality stones are most commonly found in Ceylon, Burma, and Thailand.

The corundum group is second in hardness only to the diamond. Sapphires may vary in color, intensity, and hue, and come in almost all colors in the spectrum. The color of the sapphire depends upon the mineral or element fused within the stone at the time of its creation. The most precious sapphire, other than ruby, is a clear blue Star sapphire, and its value can rival that of the world’s most precious gemstones. A distinctive, blue Star sapphire is indeed a rare gem.

-1-

Thousands of small tributaries feed Southeast Asia’s main drain, the mighty Mekong River. Through the centuries, millions of fishermen from Thailand, Burma, and Laos have harvested its bounty. This morning, as they have for thousands of years, long, narrow teakwood fishing boats make their way from the jungle-lined tributaries to the broad, meandering river in search of the ideal spot to set their traps and nets. The shallow-draft crafts glide over the sandbars, pushed by a propeller on the end of a drive-train shaft half again as long as the boat. The pulsating rumble from the mufflerless diesel engines invades the primordial silence, announcing the beginning of another twentieth century day.

Silhouettes cut the surface, sending ripples across the gently flowing Mekong. Fishermen heading down river easily slip into the main current, while those heading upstream carefully maneuver over the shallows, avoiding the river’s main flow as much as possible. Near the Burma shore, a twenty-four-foot boat sits low in the water, its powerful V-8 engine idling laboriously to maintain a stationary position in the current. A similar vessel painstakingly approaches from behind.

This goddamn net is a pain, Orange mumbled, keeping a careful eye upstream while expertly handling the heavy drive- train. If I miss a wake, we’re going to find our asses in the river heading downstream at a good two knots.

At ease, sailor man, replied Green, nodding toward the approaching boat. Blue’s coming alongside.

Orange glanced over his shoulder, then motioned for the approaching vessel to slow down. It responded and carefully pulled along the starboard side.

Riding a little low, I see, observed Blue, precisely maneuvering his boat to within three feet. Orange gingerly tossed a rope to Black, Blue’s crew. She quickly passed it through an eye socket on her vessel’s stern, then secured it to an electric winch near the bow.

She looks as if she knows what she’s doing, Orange said to no one in particular.

We rehearsed it enough, Black replied. If I’d known being a sailor was so easy, I’d have joined the navy instead of the army.

Blue and Green smiled. The friendly bantering relieved the tension. Green looked at Orange. Think we’ll catch anything, sailor boy?

My guess is that we’ll land a large, dark-bellied heroin waterbird!

I’ve joined up with a bunch of clowns, Blue said as he surveyed both boats then looked at Orange. How much longer do we have?

The freighter should be rounding the bend up there within two hours. My guess is about an hour after sunrise.

Let’s keep our heads up this morning, Blue said. I have a bad feeling about this one.

Won’t be nearly as bad as trying it underwater would have been, Orange replied, dipping his hand into the water. You couldn’t see six inches in this shit.

The boats drifted apart. Loosen about twenty feet of net there before they pull away, mud soldier, Orange ordered, looking at Green. One big tug sideways, and we’re swimming!

Aye, aye, sir! Green responded as he began unraveling the

net.

Okay, Sapphires, Blue said. Let’s be careful and, unless absolutely necessary, maintain radio silence. He slowly maneuvered his boat away. Check your weapons, and we’ll see you back home.

Orange, carefully watching the current, turned his vessel so Green could play the net out almost across the bow. He watched for wakes of passing fishing boats and turned to prevent from capsizing while Green carefully fed out the net. Looks like this one is going to be as easy as the others, he said.

Yeah, Orange replied. Almost too easy. He glanced around nervously. There’s lots of cover out there. He pointed to the tree-lined shore. And look at all the other boats.

Fishing boats, Green said.

Oh? Orange asked. "Isn’t that what we’re supposed to

be?"

Green gave him a somber look and nodded understandingly.

Blue, intently watching the net slowly play out and adjusting the throttle as necessary, guided his boat carefully across the channel.

Worried? Black asked, her voice barely audible over the engine’s slow rumble.

Yes, Blue replied.

More so than before?

Yes.

Why?

If this shipment is as big as Orange says, it’ll be heavily protected. They’ve had time to get prepared. If I were they, after I lost the first shipment, I’d have started an emergency training program.

But that’s you and your way of doing things. Very few people are as methodical as you.

Never underestimate your enemy. That’s why we’re using torpedoes instead of firebombs. I’ll bet this freighter has firepower aboard that would make the navy’s river boat crews down in Vietnam envious. Probably using U.S. weapons, too.

What if the torpedoes miss?

They won’t, Blue said as they reached the sandbar on the Laos side of the river, about 150 yards from Orange and Green. Let the net settle on the bottom, then inspect the torpedoes and weapons. I’ll get the mines and smoke bombs ready. Then let’s recheck each other.

*   *   *

In the air-conditioned pilot cabin of the Zawatees’ sixty-five- foot oceangoing yacht, Pyinnya Zawatee, an unusually tall, ruggedly handsome Burmese, binoculars to his eyes, scanned the Burma side of the river. The Zawatees’ lieutenant in charge of narcotics shipments, Anaya Bong, a slender man, stood alongside scanning the Laos shoreline. The yacht’s quartermaster, eyes glued to the river, tenderly adjusted the wheel. Tension hung heavily in the cabin’s silence.

Pyinnya mumbled, Something’s going to happen.

The pilot nervously scanned the river. Anaya, startled at the sudden break in silence, lowered his binoculars and replied, The last three shipments went through.

There is no pattern to the hits, Pyinnya, thinking out loud, muttered softly. The ways our lost shipments have been taken down have been ingenious. The person responsible is no smalltime smuggler. He’s brilliant. I’d like to meet him. He paused, shifted his binoculars to the Laos shoreline, and growled, And someday I will! Now, if I were he, and out to cripple us, I’d take this shipment.

But why us? Anaya asked, holding his binoculars to his chest. And why destroy the product instead of steal it?

If I knew that, Pyinnya sighed, then we could probably guess who was doing it. Could be one of our esteemed competitors wanting the business. Could be someone wanting to muscle in. Could be some crackpots out to make names for themselves. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder. We’re getting too close. Back off a little. Just keep the freighter in sight, don’t escort it. He nervously shifted his weight from side to side. If the raiders spot us, they may run.

If they’re there, Anaya said, lifting the binoculars to his eyes and scanning the river as the pilot backed off the yacht’s twin six-hundred-horsepower diesels.

They’re there, Pyinnya replied. And the question is not if, but when and how? He continued searching the Laos shore. Where are you? Who are you? He lowered his binoculars, rubbed one eye with the back of his hand, and looked at Anaya, Is the scanner on?

Anaya glanced at the power-indicating light on the RF scanner. It was dark. No. He flipped the switch. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Sorry, he said.

Pyinnya glared at him. Mistakes are costly!

If they go for this one, we’ll get them, Anaya said defensively. Six men on the freighter, plus two cannons and a machine gun on deck. Four river boats furnishing roaming escorts. Armed spotters placed a mile apart on both shores. This one will get through untouched.

Pyinnya shook his head in dismay. "Anaya, in a business

like this, assumptions like that can be disastrous."

*   *   *

Here it comes, Black and Blue said in unison as the drug- laden freighter rounded the bend several hundred yards upstream. Black turned a knob. The electric winch made a grinding sound and began to wind in the net.

Blue, through binoculars, studied the river freighter. One cannon on the bow. Men standing on both sides. One probably on the stern as well. He gauged the speed of both the freighter and the winch, adjusted his boat’s position so the weight of the net wouldn’t cause the boat to capsize. Across the river, he saw that Orange, too, had adjusted his craft’s attitude to take the net tension. Everything was going according to plan.

Two small fishing craft passed over the net. Those two boats, Blue mumbled cautiously. Keep an eye out. They may be running scout or escort. He looked at the river. Current’s too fast. Got to drift downstream a little or the net won’t be high enough to catch the propeller. Blue hand signaled Orange, who acknowledged. Like one organism, the assemblage drifted downstream while the net slowly rose from the river’s bottom.

The freighter approached the net. Blue picked up a hand axe and waited. Black laid two small torpedoes beside her and prepared to put the third overboard. I practiced activating these three-minute wonders in my sleep last night.

At least you slept, Blue said, intently watching the net. Come on, baby. Catch us a freighter.

The net jerked. Blue slammed down the axe, cutting the rope, then watched the freighter slow down. A crewmen ran to the stern, looked overboard, then turned and yelled toward the cabin. Minutes later several men rushed on deck. Two manned the cannons on the bow and stern, two uncovered a machine gun on top of the freighter’s pilot cabin, and one unleashed the anchor, letting it drop. When the anchor broke the muddy river’s surface, Black and Blue both pushed buttons on their watches.

Seven minutes, Blue said.

*   *   *

Aboard the yacht, the radio came alive. Our propeller’s picked up a net. We’re going to have to stop and free it.

This may be it! exclaimed Pyinnya, jerking his binoculars from the Burma shore to the freighter. Instinctively, he yanked the microphone from its cradle and yelled, Get your men on deck, goddamn it! This may be it. He glanced at Anaya, who was watching Pyinnya. Don’t look at me! he yelled. Check everything on and beside the damn river!

As both men carefully scrutinized the river’s shoreline and each fishing boat in the vicinity, Pyinnya curtly asked, Where are your goddamn escorts?

Two are behind us, and two in front of the freighter, Anaya replied.

Get the two behind us down there, then order the two in front to get the fuck back to the freighter!

Anaya called the rear escorts and ordered them to the freighter. When he contacted the front escorts, they replied that they were not aware that the freighter had stopped and were at least a mile down river. Well, get back to the shipment! Anaya yelled.

Pyinnya shook his head, stared at Anaya, and asked sarcastically, We didn’t go over this enough, did we?

Apparently not, sir, Anaya nervously replied as he scrutinized each fishing boat on the wide river. Sweat broke out on his forehead. We didn’t have enough time.

Excuses. Nothing but excuses! Pyinnya exclaimed,

scanning all the craft on the river through his binoculars.

Prepare to launch torpedoes, Blue said, looking at his watch while glancing all around, confident that his counterpart on the Burma side of the freighter was doing the same.

Black placed a torpedo over the side, just above the water, made sure once again that the guidance cable was firmly attached, and waited, her finger on a button.

Launch!

Black pressed the button. The torpedo’s small battery- powered engine kicked in. She placed the torpedo in the water, pointed it toward the freighter’s stern, pressed another button, and turned it loose. As it sped away, she repeated the action two more times.

Like a little boy playing with model boats, Blue guided the first torpedo toward the freighter. After launching the third weapon, Black took charge of the torpedo control console, while Blue resumed command of his vessel and the operation. He turned their boat down river and started slowly moving out, continually watching out for anything unusual. He knew without looking that, as rehearsed, Orange and Green had carried out a duplicate operation.

*   *   *

Pyinnya spotted a large fishing boat with movements unlike those he was accustomed to seeing on the Mekong. He zeroed his binoculars in and saw a man quickly place something overboard—once, twice, three times. He snatched the microphone from Anaya. Big fishing boat. Burma side. Get them. He quickly swung his binoculars to the Laos side and saw a similar-sized boat slowly moving off. Same thing, Laos side, he yelled. Get them both! Then he mumbled, We’ve got you, you clever bastards.

*   *   *

Blue saw the men onboard the freighter turn the cannon and machine gun toward the Burma side of the Mekong. Orange and Green have been spotted! He quickly surveyed the river like a quarterback scans a football field for open receivers. Two of the four boats heading toward the Burma side swerved and headed toward him. So have we!

The machine gun opened fire toward Orange and Green. Green returned the fire. At that moment, the torpedoes hit, rocking the freighter. The machine gun continued to fire as the crew loaded the cannons. Black, using an automatic weapon, strafed the freighter. Suddenly, smoke billowed from the freighter’s hole, and the ship began settling in the water. The crew and gunners scrambled and started abandoning ship, carrying any floatation possible. The cannons never fired a shot.

Blue headed straight for the escort vessels coming his way, revving his engine to ramming speed. Okay, Blue said to himself, who’s going to be chicken? Black fired at the lead oncoming unit, wounding its gunner. Before they even got close, the chase vessel veered, and Black strafed its engine, disabling it. Suddenly, Orange’s clear, calm voice came over the transmitter. Blue, Green’s hit. We need help.

Blue picked up a microphone. We’ll cover, Orange. Head home. Can Green drop the mines?

Yes, but don’t know how long he’ll last. Bleeding pretty bad, he said. Suddenly an explosion ripped the water. One of the chase boats had hit a mine.

Two down, two to go, Blue said as he raced to cover Orange’s retreat. He marveled as Orange maneuvered his vessel through the many fishing boats on the river, his boat’s rooster tail spewing high and long. Way to go, man! Blue yelled, cutting off the Zawatees’ remaining chase boats just short of the rooster tail. He picked up behind Orange.

Black scattered several mines in their wake. The chase boats took evasive action, but one hit a mine and exploded. The other resumed the chase, but its speed was no match for the Sapphires’ boats. It gradually lost ground.

Blue picked up the microphone. How’s Green?

Still conscious. He’s hit in his upper left shoulder, and his head’s bleeding pretty bad. Needs help and quick.

Clear and Yellow, do you copy? Blue asked.

Yes, came the simultaneous reply.

Are you ready?

We were born ready.

Black motioned for the microphone. Blue tossed it to her. How’s Green doing? she asked.

He’s losing a lot of blood.

Apply a tourniquet! she ordered.

I’ll have to stop, Black, and, under the circumstances, that would be rather difficult.

Black advised Blue, who said, Tell him to stop after the first bend on the road home.

Black repeated the order, then said, We’ll cover your back door.

Both boats, still spewing large rooster tails, turned up a deep, narrow tributary. Abruptly, they slowed and made their way