Framed (138 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Davros (View user info) at 2006-10-23 17:29:38 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
The cockroach was still struggling to escape from the pool of water that has accumulated on the floor. I had roused him from somewhere when I pulled the cot away from the wall and wounded him with a well timed throw of my shoe. It was almost hypnotic watching the crippled body trying to drag itself out of the expanding puddle. Just when it appeared that he might make it, another rivulet of liquid added itself to the pool enlarging it in size and sweeping him back into the middle.
It had been raining almost non stop for two weeks. The walls seemed to absorb the moisture only to push it out of one of the hundreds of cracks at the base. They radiated a coldness that crept through your body every time you brushed against them. I was one of the "lucky" ones. I had managed to be granted a corner unit, where two of the walls were solid. This gave me a degree of privacy greater than most of the residents. It also meant that I only had one neighbour and he was being quiet for a change.
I knew the risks, but still I took my chances. I don't really hold out much hope of someone coming to get me, but sometimes the simple things, like the roach's battle for survival can inspire you.
~~~
The second to last thing you want to hear in a court in Thailand is "Drug Trafficking", because you know that the next thing you hear will be either "Life" or "Death". Not that they amount to anything different, it is just that one is quicker than the other. I got the first option for five kilos of heroin so pure that it would make the, so called good, stuff you buy on the streets seem like the scrapings off your cooking spoon.
You might have read about me in the papers, but whether you did or didn't, you would have read about a similar story.
Life. In an eight by eight cage. One hour a day outside, if you got lucky, food that you can't eat, water that you can't drink. Some people would call it a slow death. Here they call it the "Bangkok Hilton". It is strange that something that started out as a TV show could have so much influence, but all the non-Thai people here use the name. I get to speak to some of them when I get my outdoor time, but most of them end up getting sent home. They have rich families, or friendly politicians backing their causes. Extradition and a few years in a prison back in England or Australia or wherever, then they are quietly released back into the arms of their family. Not for me. My folks are dead and I have no idea who my MP is.
The one thing I know is that I shouldn't be here.
~~~
I was in Thailand long before it became a popular place to be. I started off as an office hand in the British Embassy and I learned everything I needed to know within six months. The attitudes of the cops to indiscretions, the places to go without getting killed, the places to eat without the risk of dysentery and, most importantly, the people who needed to be paid off if you ever wanted to achieve anything in this shit hole of a country.
Six years down the line, I had bought myself a small place in one of the villages outside Bangkok and given myself an excuse to visit as often as I wanted. By then it had become a popular tourist place, especially among the "Gap year" kids, who loved the cheap booze and drugs, not to mention the women.
I came home after my contract ended, with a couple of pounds of quality "white" and a ten year retirement plan in mind.
~~~
I started off small, all my finances would allow, muling the shit myself. I did everything you can imagine, the cosmetic packages, the fake bottomed suitcase and even the packed rubbers carried internally. I quit that one when I saw some kid, couldn't have been more than about seventeen, OD right in front of me in the check in queue. I had three condoms packed swimming around in my stomach at the time.
Eventually I moved onto a better system, hiring people to do the actual carrying, but that in itself caused problems. This kind of business attracts a dishonest type of person anyway and when you throw some serious class A's into the equation, you double your risks. My packages were coming back light, but I couldn't complain. Even after expenses I was making a tidy profit and there was very little risk for me.
~~~
If you were to look me up in the "Companies Register" you would see me as an "Import/Export" specialist. By the time I appeared in it, I was only exporting cash and importing powdered dreams.
One of my Thai contacts came up with a method of turning the smack into a paste which could be cast in moulds, then coated with a thin layer of plaster, fired and painted. The fashion for all things eastern made me a legitimate businessman. I would order a dozen cases of "statues" and maybe two-thirds would be genuine. The others were pure profit. I was even making a reasonable return on the cheap ornaments.
As the business grew, so did the expenses. I had always used the knowledge I had gained to ensure that the right people were taken care of, the right palms were greased. I knew every customs officer in the airport, the names of the Chief of Polices kids, everything. It all ran like clockwork.
~~~
You hear plenty of stories of people getting busted at the airport trying to smuggle drugs, but I can tell you that it isn't one percent of what goes on.
Since Thailand has become a popular destination, the government has to be seen to be doing something about the drug situation and a good bust every so often makes the effort look good. But for every kid who gets busted there are ten that don't. For every ten that get through there is one guy like me, moving larger amounts on a regular basis that never gets touched. It is all down to the preparation.
~~~
I have tried to figure out what could have gone wrong hundreds of times and the only thing I can see is that it was a set-up. The problem is, when a business becomes successful you make enemies. It is inevitable that you upset people along the line. You also have to involve more and more people along the way and that increases the risk.
~~~
It was like any other shipment. I had gone to the cargo terminal to ensure my shipment passed smoothly onto the flight. Once I had seen to that, I made my way to check in for my flight back home.
I spotted all the likely candidates in the airport. The gullible ones who will agree to carry something for a stranger, the nervous kids, who could be carrying an ounce of hash or a kilo of heroin and the guys who looked just like me, business men heading home.
I had just handed over my reservation when I realised something was wrong. It was almost like I could feel the atmosphere closing in on me.
I was surrounded in seconds and dragged away to a holding cell. They questioned me for hours, without getting anything of use to them, before I was taken to the City jail.
The strange thing about Thai justice, given how corrupt everything else is in this country is that it is swift and uncompromising.
I was arrested, imprisoned and charged in a matter of weeks. Sentenced to Life not long after and I have been here ever since.
~~~
I keep thinking about things that I could have done wrong, but I can't come up with anything. I know the pay offs were made to all the right people and I know that everything went according to plan during my stay. My mind still comes back to a set-up.
In truth there are so many people it could have been. A rival importer, an old supplier or even an ex mule, it doesn't bear dwelling on too much. All I know is that I am here for life, or at least until the people in power are replaced with someone who owes me.
Until that happens, I will just be like a cockroach to them.
For me I will be like the cockroach in my cell, fighting to survive, despite all the odds, dreaming of freedom, of home, but most of all, of revenge.
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Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-06-05 12:25:35 EDT (#)
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