Louie Marincovic was a Serb who had spent his formative years in a Croatian orphanage. Separated from his parents at an age he couldn’t remember and for reasons that had always been vague to him he was reunited with his then widowed father at the age of twelve and, education omitted, he worked on the Adriatic fishing boats before turning to the more lucrative tourist yacht trade. Smuggling cigarettes and hashish followed naturally to any Mediterranean seaman and he developed his fighting skills during these years. The promise for a better life, along with a desire to remove himself from the proximity of the local police force, brought him to Australia where eventually some vaguely remembered loyalty later took him back to the Balkans’ war. Trained by butchers and witnessing butchery on both sides he returned to Australia where breaking a few legs in the interests of commerce seemed like almost an act of kindness compared with what he had seen in the break up of Yugoslavia. Smarter men than he used this talent and he began to realise that his prison terms barely compensated for what he considered to be doing favours for friends while teaching respect to those he didn’t doubt deserved it.
Never happier than when he drank white wine and soda with ice straight from a beer jug as he toasted the health of his many friends he had began to sicken of the years of paid for violence; throwing punks from nightclubs and maiming people for bad debts. It had been easy early, favours, always favours for people like Harry who he thought were his friends. Believing everything they said but later wondering whether what he had been told was true.
When Harry asked him to hire an ocean going boat and hinted Max was involved he accepted gratefully. After sailing the yacht from Australia to Boracay where his crew were paid off and flown home he recruited local Philipinos sailors and sailed across the South China Sea to Cambodia. It was an easy time there and he developed the idea of forming a team of mercenaries to work for the Americans in their various spheres of conflict. He never doubted for a moment that Max was smarter than him and never doubted the big man’s courage. He would be the wedge and Max the hammer and together they would make enough to retire in a style that wouldn’t involve a man shaming himself by twisting the scrawny testicles of some office worker who had run up night club bill that he thought he could ignore.
He hadn’t minded the fights with the drunken punks outside the nightclubs but had hated knocking on doors the next day, often answered by young wives with children, to present the bill the husband had tried to escape.
During the sea journey to the Philippines he and Max had talked long into the velvet nights. He had rejected Max’s plan at first, loyalty was always his first option, but Max had explained the logic behind it in great detail. Everything from the beginning had been a play against the odds, carefully thought out and each step meticulously planned and every diversion allowed for. Subsequently when he sailed between the islands of Cebu and Negros and turned into Dumaghetti ferry harbour he wasn’t surprised to see Max and another man waiting on the end of the pier.
He knew Rex by reputation, like him a man of the orphanages; no one who hadn’t been there could begin to understand the loss of childhood it involved. The work, the lack of love; sometimes replaced by rough affection by the decent people working there or sexual assault by the indecent. Rex had run away, finally becoming a criminal through his rejection of the inhumane system that had been forced upon him while Louie had stayed; worn out with the never ending agricultural slavery until his father had turned up one day and taken him to his fishing boat where the work and lack of love continued.
People tend to think that child slavery is a third world thing but children in Western institutions have been unpaid laborers up to quite recent times.
He brought the boat in on the leeward side of the pier and Max took the thrown lines and made them fast.
The three men conversed briefly and then Max and Rex headed back to the esplanade, walking about a kilometre to the hotel they had booked into after leaving the ferry that morning. Marylyn hadn’t unpacked and after an hour’s conversation with Max she went outside and flagged a trike to take her back to the ferry and home. The years of whoring in the Manila and Angeles City bars had taken a heavier toll than she had ever told anyone. Now it seemed that her time had arrived, prosperity with a man she could control. With enough time for another child who would hold him to her with even stronger ties. Max was home free, the hard times were already forgotten, she could tell that by the look on his face when they got off the ferry with out even a second look from the dozing police officers who always met the boat for something to do to pass the time. She hoped she would see him again, as the friend he had always claimed to be and she had accepted him as, but was prepared to accept the loss for the golden future that lay ahead. She smiled as she thought about how many other girls’ futures would turn golden from this weeks work.
Max and Rex had as close to a night on the town that could be managed in Dumaghetti and in Rex’s company. They kicked off with a Mexican meal then had a bar-hop of the girl free drinking spots where the local expats hung out. Max contemplated a trip out to the City Limits bar that was precisely in that position due to city laws that forbade the presence of girlie bars inside that area, but decided against it. He had had bad experiences there with the voracious bargirls who were more than capable of drinking all night on a punters tab then doing a runner out the back door when the question of a bar fine came up. He didn’t want the consequences of an angry Rex remonstrating with the management after drinking more than his capacity as he occasionally did in Max’s company. Instead they finished up at the outdoor restaurants that lined the road north of the ferry terminal. The beer was cheap and the local hookers flocked there in droves. Nothing as refined as college girls hoping to supplement their allowance but at least a man never missed out.
As they sat down Max waved away several hovering pimps. If Rex was horny he would look for one of the tables full of girls around them and send over a couple of bottles of San Miguel, knowing that an invitation to join them would follow immediately. It was strange how he despised the local vendors of female flesh but felt quite comfortable drinking with the foreign bar owners who sold girls on a nightly basis. He justified it to himself by saying that they had been through the mill as well and the girls that worked for them used them up as happily as they did the customers. He had met a few he had no time for but even those never handed out retribution to a backsliding girl with the viciousness of a local pimp.
However Rex only wanted to talk, wisely drinking one beer to Max’s two, while he tried to draw his friend out on what was planned with the drugs he had financed. Max waved his doubts away saying that every thing was organized.
“I know things have fucked up here mate but it’s all back on track now, tomorrow we’ll get on the boat with Louie, or the next day if you’re crook, and head back to Harry who’ll meet us at Subic Bay.”
“Come on mate, drink up, see that little sheila eyeing you off? She’ll turn you inside out like a rubber glove if you give her half a chance.”
He sent the expected beers over to the girls’ table, he wanted Rex with a hangover tomorrow. The short man would not be a loser in this, his investment would be returned with a handsome profit. He knew that Rex was smart enough to not turn nasty outside his home turf and Max’s recent entry into the brotherhood of Cain would make him think twice anyway.
“I’ve got more respect for my dick than you have for yours root rat” Rex laughed, “you can stick it into them if you want, but ok, lets go over and give them a hard time.”
Max lead the way to the girls’ table and they wiled away the rest of the night laughing and teasing the happy girls. They loaded themselves and the six girls into several trikes and drove along the moonlit seafront to their hotel. A bundle of hundred peso notes silenced the feeble protests of the reception staff who were also sent out for more drinks. Max settled back sleepily in a chair with a beer as Rex disrobed while happily peeling the clothes from the squealing girls. Orgies weren’t his scene and he realised that his participation wasn’t required, only his presence. This was what turned Rex on after the few occasions he had drank to excess; willing women in quantity and an amused observer while he frolicked amongst them. As well hung as most short men he changed partners frequently, the alcohol slowing him down and Max knew he would crash out almost immediately after his orgasm. But first he would insist on every girl having a genuine climax, driving hard until she panted her heart out against him.
“Come on root rat, aren’t you up to a bit of sport or have you drank to much.” He crowed “The piss was always your downfall.”
Max laughed, wondering what drove him on, and eyed off a couple of the more experienced girls. His back was playing up again.
Glorying in being back on the yacht again Max saw Rex settled in to sleep off his hangover and helped the crew get the boat ready to sail. They were glad to see him again and offered ribald comments regarding his time ashore. Max assured them that they were justified, hoping that their sisters hadn’t been in the same towns as he had. They pushed the beautiful old boat away from the dock and set the jib to take them slowly out of the harbour while they hauled up the main sail. The was barely a breath of wind but she was that light in the water they headed off into the tropical dawn easily, cutting through the glass like sea.
Rex came on deck about noon; not usually a drinking man he suffered more than most after a booze up, as he called it, and liked to sleep all day afterwards but his mental alarm bells woke him and he wanted to confront
Max about the dope. The boat was under a light spinnaker, her movement on the sea barely noticeable, and he saw Max and Louie near the stern with four of the bulging bags from Zamboanga. The back pack from Thailand added to the pile he noticed as he wandered down to his mates, accepting the ice cold can of lemonade offered.
“Thanks very much mate, I barely remember getting on this fucking boat” he said to Max.
“Where the fuck are the other two bags, what’s going on with the dope and where the fuck are we going.”
Max took a deep breath and took out the flick knife that he had killed Charlie with. He picked up one of the bags and forced the blade in behind the lock. Meeting the expected resistance he snapped his fingers at Louie who handed him a battery powered angle grinder. A shower of sparks and the lock fell off and Max opened the tightly paced bag, tilting it so a pile of bundled green Australian hundred dollar bills cascaded onto the deck.
“There’s more than a million here” he said, “you split that with Louie. That’s a nice piece of change considering Harry put the money up for the dope.”
Rex eyed the loot greedily. “ Where’s the other two fucking bags, Max?”
“Gone with Marylyn, she’ll make sure Harry behaves himself.”
Astounded Rex shouted in Max’s face, “You’ve got to be fucking joking, he’ll have every gunman between here and Macau on your fucking arse, and mine too if I go along with this”
“What will he pay them with then?” Max quietly retorted “all his money's here, he’ll only get what Marylyn has if he goes along with her, a bar, a hotel, maybe a resort, there’s plenty there that he can keep himself occupied with.”
“For fucks sake Max, she won’t give him a fucking cracker, she won’t part with a cent of the three or four million in those bags!”
“That’s a chance he’ll have to take but she likes the idea, she knows that the profits from his hidden legal businesses in Australia will be coming every year in cash to back up any investments they make, and plus she likes the idea of having the whip hand for a change”
The big man smiled grimly, “And who knows maybe he will too.”
“So you walk off with the other three bags, not a bad fucking earner Max!”
“I’ve had expenses that haven’t occurred to you Rex, the buy was set up on both sides from the beginning, Duangvichit’s my wife’s half brother, he needs at least a million to square up the Thais and get Jerry out of slam. Then he has his own modest expenses; he’s not doing it for nothing.”
Rex looked stunned, “So you had it set up when you brought us into it you cunt?”
“Nothing was set in stone, the whole thing swung on so many ifs. You sit with your safe dope runs in Australia and think it’s the same everywhere… the risks in Asia make you look like a small time pool hustler. No trust, only hope that everything will go right.”
Louie turned away from the helm, “I still don’t like taking Harry’s money,” he said, “He worked for it and we steal it off him.”
Max swung to him, “He’ll make it all again or die trying, he loves the challenge, the rip off will inspire him and Marylyn will give him an edge he’s lacked before, a woman that loves him is something he’s never had, he’ll grow balls out of this.” He grabbed the Yugoslav by the shirt, trembling inwardly, “We’ll make a dollar and keep him happy doing what he loves. What do you think would happen to him in those fucking Angeles bars with no inspiration in his life? He’ll end up strangling some hooker just to see what it feels like, I’ve seen it coming for years.”
Louie sat back nodding his head, Max had convinced him on the run to the Philippines but he wanted to hear it again. So much money, he could go back to the Adriatic; a boat, maybe a bar where he could drink among men who respected him and take advantage of the Scandinavian girls who holidayed there.
Rex settled back, half sulkily, “at least we’ve got the dope to sell anyway.”
Max waved away a horrified Louie, tearing back the zip on the backpack that that wrecked his back on such a long journey.
Picking up one of the packets of white powder that appeared he slit it with the flick knife, the razor sharp blade spilling the chemical on the deck.
“Come on guys, a taste; lets see what it does to the younger generation.”
He licked his finger, dipping it in and sucking it greedily. Both of his mates drew back in horror, Louie also in the disgust that showed on his face.
“Fucking girls”, Max sneered, “How the fuck will you know it’s the goods if you don’t try it, one taste won’t make your balls drop off.”
Gingerly they stepped forward, their manhood challenged they licked a finger and placed the tiniest amount on their tongues.
Rex was the first to speak, “It’s fucking icing sugar,” he said, “all this for fucking icing sugar.”
Max ignored him and began to cut the rest of the bags and tipped them over the back of the boat. A silver stream of tiny sparkling crystals went into the rising breeze as the boat picked up speed.
Home soon he thought, to his Thai wife, taking wealth and comfort for both of them for the rest of their lives. Her family would benefit and Max would reap the respect they would offer him. The days of whoring, cruising from town to town, city to city, living off his wits would be over. But first Jerry would be taken to Europe for rehab, carefully watched as he was weaned off the hammer and regained his life. Then a few drinks to celebrate and back to Thailand.
But then he’d always wanted to see Central Asia. Tashkent, Samarkand…the Golden Road cities. The girls who lived in those sandy towns would be worth a look. Easily done on the return journey. A few weeks wouldn’t matter.
His reverie was interrupted as the last bag went over the side. Rex stood over him.
“Seeing as you’re supposed to be such a hot cook you could have baked us a cake out of that sugar you’re wasting, root rat.”
The End.
© Julian. All rights reserved by the author.
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December 24, 2006, 16:48
I'd like to thank all the guys who read this and encouraged me with it, particularly when I got stuck a few months back.
I still consider it a work in progress and intend to flesh it out over the next six months.
Max will definitely be back though, I enjoy writing about him too much to let him go.
Merry Christmas to all the readers and writers on this site.