King Rat

“Everything has danger.”

They heard footsteps, and soon a shadow splashed the door. It opened and a small dark Chinese walked in. He wore a sarong and Indian chappals on his feet. He smiled, showing broken mildewed teeth. On his back was a war parang in a scabbard. The King noticed that the scabbard was well oiled. Easy to jerk that parang out and cut a man’s head off—just like that. Tucked into the man’s belt was a revolver.

The King had asked Kasseh to get in touch with the guerrillas operating in Johore and this man was the result. Like most, they were converted bandits now fighting the Japanese under the banner of the Communists, who supplied them with arms.

“Tabe. You speak English?” the King asked, forcing a smile. He didn’t like the look of this Chinese.

“Why you want talk with us?”

“Thought we might be able to make a deal.”

The Chinese leered at Kasseh. She flinched.

“Beat it, Kasseh,” the King said.

Noiselessly she left, going through the bead curtain into the rear of the house.

The Chinese watched her go. “You lucky,” he said to the King. “Too lucky. I bet woman give good time two, three men one night. No?”

“You want to talk a deal? Yes or no?”

“You watch, white man. Maybe I tell Japs you here. Maybe I tell them village safe for white prisoners. Then they kill village.”

“You’ll end up dead, fast, that way.”

The Chinese grunted, then squatted down. He shifted the parang slightly, menacingly. “Maybe I take woman now.”

Jesus, thought the King, maybe I made a mistake.

“I got a proposal for you guys. If the war ends suddenly—or the Japs take it into their heads to start chopping us POW’s up, I want you to be around for protection. I’ll pay you two thousand American dollars when I’m safe.”

“How we know if Japs kill prisoners?”

“You’ll know. You know most things that go on.”

“How we know you pay?”

“The American government will pay. Everyone knows there’s a reward.”

“Two thousand! ’Mahlu! We get two thousand any day. Kill bank. Easy.”

The King made his gambit. “I’m empowered by our commanding officer to guarantee you two thousand a head for every American that is saved. If the shoot blows up.”

“I no understan’.”

“If the Japs start trying to knock us off—kill us. If the Allies land here, the Japs’re going to get mean. Or if the Allies land on Japan, then the Japs here will take reprisals. If they do, you’ll know and I want you to help us get away.”

“How many men?”

“Thirty.”

“Too many.”

“How many will you guarantee?”

“Ten. But the price will be five thousand per man.”

“Too much.”

The Chinese shrugged.

“All right. It’s a deal. You know the camp?”

The Chinese showed his teeth in a twisted grin. “We know.”

“Our hut’s to the east. A small one. If we have to make a break, we’ll break through the wire there. If you’re in the jungle, you can cover us. How will we know if you’re in position?”

Again the Chinese shrugged. “If not, you die anyway.”

“Could you give us a signal?”

“No signal.”

This is crazy, the King told himself. We won’t know when we’re going to have to make a break, and if it’s going to be sudden there’ll be no way of getting a message to the guerrillas in time. Maybe they’ll be there, maybe not. But if they figure there’s five grand apiece for any of us they get out, then maybe they’ll keep a good lookout from here on in.

“Will you keep an eye on the camp?”

“Maybe leader says yes, maybe no.”

“Who’s your leader?”

The Chinese shrugged and picked his teeth.

“It’s a deal then?”

“Maybe.” The eyes were hostile. “You finish?”

“Yes.” The King stuck out his hand. “Thanks.”

The Chinese looked down at the hand, sneered and went to the door. “Remember. Ten only. Rest kill!” He left.

Well, it’s worth a try, the King assured himself. Those bastards could sure as hell use the money. And Uncle Sam would pay. Why the hell not! What the hell do we pay taxes for?

“Tuan,” said Kasseh gravely as she stood at the door. “I not like this thing.”

“Got to take a chance. If there’s a sudden killing maybe we can get out.” He winked at her. “Worth a try. We’d be dead anyway. So, what the hell. Maybe we got a line of retreat.”

“Why you not make deal for you alone? Why you not go with him now and escape camp?”

“Easy. First, it’s safer at the camp than with the guerrillas. No point in trusting them unless there’s an emergency. Second, one man’s not worth their trouble. That’s why I asked him to save thirty. But he could only handle ten.”

“How you choose ten?”

“It’ll be every man for himself, as long as I’m okay.”

“Maybe your command officer no like only ten.”

“He’ll like it if he’s one of the lucky ones.”

“You think Japanese kill prisoners?”

“Maybe. But let’s forget it, huh?”

She smiled. “Forget. You hot. Take shower, yes?”

“Yes.”

In the shower section of the hut the King bailed water over himself from the concrete well. The water was cold, and it made him gasp and his flesh sting.

“Kasseh!”