The Scottish Banker of Surabaya

( 48 )

She had no idea how long it went on or how many shots were fired, but it seemed like an eternity. She felt as if she was listening to a full-scale war.

Poirier and the soldiers standing next to the door didn’t move until the firing stopped. Even then, the soldier with the earpiece spoke to Poirier before gingerly turning the knob to open the door. When they started to file inside, Ava left the car and got in line.

The soldiers separated and went to either side of the plane. Ava followed Poirier.

In the gap between the plane and the van, four of Aries’ soldiers stood with guns nestled in the crooks of their arms. The side of the plane that faced the hangar doors was pockmarked with bullets that had ripped right through the sides of the van, leaving its walls like white lace.

Poirier walked around the van towards the hangar doors. Then he realized Ava was behind him. “You don’t want to look at this,” he said.

She moved to one side so he wouldn’t block her view. Captain Aries leaned against a wall, the balaclava pulled up over his forehead. He was looking down at the floor. Standing next to him, one of his troops gripped a pale young man by the arm, his gun pressed into his back. The young man wore a white shirt with a bar on each shoulder. He was shaking, his free hand rubbing the front of the shirt as if he could wipe away the blood that drenched it.

“Christ,” Poirier said.

There were three bodies on the ground, blood still oozing from their gunshot wounds. Another man in a white shirt with bars on the shoulders lay by himself near the front of the van. Blood pooled around his entire body like a halo. The Italians — the men who Ava assumed were the Italians — had fallen together, one body partially covering the other, and their blood had formed a puddle that was starting to stream across the uneven floor towards the hangar door. The face of the man on the bottom looked skyward. There was so little of it left that it was barely recognizable.

“I thought we were going to try to take them alive,” Poirier said to Aries.

“One of them pulled a gun. He fired a shot at my men.”

“Did that warrant . . . this?” Poirier said.

“We defended ourselves. You always knew we would. You also know we don’t do things in half measures,” Aries said, waving his hand at the bodies on the floor. “And what difference does it make to them if we kill them with one bullet or thirty?”

Poirier shook his head and sighed. “I see only one gun.”

“I wasn’t prepared to take any chances.”

“How did he survive?” Poirier asked, pointing to the young man.

“He fell on the floor, put his hands behind his head, and rolled over to the wall.”

“Have you ID’d them?”

“No, we’re just about to do that,” Aries said, and then turned to speak to his men, who were hovering near the bodies.

“Are you okay?” Poirier said to Ava.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes . . . you actually seem to be,” he said, looking closely at her.

“I’m sorry if you expected me to fall apart,” she said.

“I just didn’t know how familiar you were with blood.”

“I didn’t —” she began.

“Are you ready to see what this plane is carrying?” Aries interrupted.

“Sure, that’s why we’re here,” Poirier said.

“Then let’s go.”

The captain led the way, Poirier behind, Ava trailing him. The plane’s stairs had four steps from the door to the hangar floor. Aries bounded to the top in two and then stopped, blocking the doorway. He peered inside. “Well, well, well,” he said. He looked down at Poirier. “This isn’t exactly what I expected.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Poirier said.

“I know you were expecting to find millions of dollars or euros or whatever, but even so, I never thought it would be this impressive.”

“Keep moving,” Poirier said.

Aries entered the plane and Poirier and Ava squeezed in after him. The passenger cabin had been stripped. Where there should have been seats, Ava found herself looking at a wall of money.

“Jesus,” Poirier said.

Ava stepped forward. The bills had been stacked and then banded. Eight stacks were cubed and then overwrapped with plastic. Sixteen cubes were overwrapped again and then strapped around both sides to form large blocks. Ava tried to count how many blocks there were, but she couldn’t see how many rows back they went.

She looked at the denominations in the stacks closest to her. Five- and ten-euro notes seemed to be predominant. It looked like a lot of money, but if it was mainly fives and tens she wasn’t sure it would amount to thirty million.

“Will you be able to get this on your plane?” Poirier asked Aries.

“I’ll find the room.”

“This isn’t going anywhere until I can count it,” Ava said.

“How do you propose to do that?” Aries said.

“I don’t know yet. I need to open up some of these blocks and see how the money is organized.”

“I’ll have one of my men help you,” Aries said.

“Komandan,” a voice said.

Aries went to the doorway and looked out. The voice began to speak, and Ava thought she heard the names Foti and Chorico.

“The papers and credit cards and government cards on the men who are dead suggest they were all Italian,” Aries said, turning back into the plane.

“What were their names?” Ava asked.

“The pilot was Bova, the other two Foti and Chorico.”

“The one who’s still alive?” Poirier said.

“We haven’t asked him yet, and there isn’t any rush. There will be plenty of time for questions about that and many other things when we get him back to Jakarta.”

“He seems to have been the co-pilot,” Poirier said.

“Yes, I think so.”

“I will be surprised if he knows anything of value beyond what his job required. The other two, Foti and Chorico, those are the ones who we needed to take back with us.”

Aries shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be. They chose another fate. Besides, who knows what mischief they might have caused in Jakarta. Men like them would say anything to avoid punishment.”

Ava was watching Poirier. She saw his top teeth bite into his lower lip, and then he closed his eyes as if he was trying to chase away an unpleasant memory.

“Now we need to help this young woman count her money,” Aries said.