‘Jason, listen,’ still in Chinese, ‘don‘t interrupt till I’ve finished …’ and succinctly passed on his plan, warning him of possible come-backs if anything went wrong or he was discovered.
‘Flat Ears, I’m with you all the way. Just tell me who to contact for details where and when.’
‘I’ll hand you over to Sinsaang Too. He’ll be the link man. Good bye, Jason. See you later,’ and he handed over the phone. ‘Very briefly, I’ll make contact with you as and when I can. Do you want a code word?’ asked C C Too.
‘Let’s go for Red Tidings Mark II.’
The Colonel made a sign for Too to break off for a mo. ‘I also must be in on this. Give me the phone, please. Captain Rance, this is Colonel Mason, Director of Intelligence in HQ Malaya Command. Are you willing to help this way?’
‘Yes, sir, I am.’
‘Excellent. All this is topper than top secret and apart from Mr C C Too and Mr Ah Fat, only the Director of Operations and I know about it. Only we five. It will be my responsibility to alert your CO about a cover plan for you to move north. In outline we feel it best for you to disappear on local leave after, say, giving a lecture for the Gurkha recruits in the Training Depot or to a Police Jungle Squad or whatever skulduggery will be needed for you to disappear is up to us, unless you have a better idea. Understood?’
‘Fully, sir. It will be a change from Framework Operations and during any amnesty could be the best time possible.’
‘Good, I’ll hand you back to Mr C C Too,’ who thanked Jason and rang off.
Before the two Chinese left, the Colonel wrote a number of a bit of paper and gave it to C C Too. ‘This is my unlisted number. Give me yours.’ The exchange was made. ‘When either of us has anything to tell each other, both of us will feel free to call the other, using veiled speech, of course.’
‘Of course. Colonel, I don’t know how much you heard of Captain Rance’s Chinese but anyone who didn’t know he wasn’t a Chinese wouldn’t believe otherwise.’
‘If anyone is needed for a job like this, he is our man.’
They parted and the two Chinese went to the car park and drove off.
There may have been no one to recognise Ah Fat in the Director of Operations’ office but there was one who saw him being driven out of the HQ Malaya Command camp. That must be comrade Ah Fat. I know him too well. Playing a double game is he? A treacherous yanshu. Not knowing the English for mole he gave it its Chinese name.
On the way back in his car, C C Too said, ‘I have an idea that could help you. Let me give you some “bait”, paperwork we give out when we don’t want to give actual details. Have that with you when you go to get the Politburo’s secret mail and if you are caught, your excuse will be that because of what you had filched when you went to KL is so secret, this was the only way you felt you could deliver it.’
‘That’s a great idea. Please get it to me within the next couple of days before I return. I’ll keep it safe until I need it.’
It turned out to be a most lucky forethought.
Same day, Rompin, Negri Sembilan: Jason sat back in his office still stunned at hearing his boyhood friend’s voice so unexpectedly. Almost can’t believe it. He’s a plucky one, that’s for sure. He gazed out of the window with a ‘thousand yard’ stare, seeing nothing. A goose ran over his grave. I’ve saved his life before but I had a squad of my men with me then. This time it will be the Bear and me alone …
In the other office the corporal clerk had listened to his OC’s burst of fluent Chinese with amazement, admiration and wonder. A girlfriend? Another unusual operation? Or what?
End of April 1955, south Thailand: Ah Fat and Wang Ming got back to Betong without any trouble. Both had felt rejuvenated by being away from the monotony and forced camaraderie there and seeing their family. Ah Fat was happy that Chan Man Yee would soon be in China and that arrangements for purloining the secret material had been talked about at such a high level. His sorrow was that he had not met up with his old friend. It was just as well for his peace of mind that he was ignorant about having been recognised.
Mid-May 1955, High Commissioner’s office, Kuala Lumpur: Sir Donald MacGillivray’s Personal Assistant knocked on the door of his master’s office, was called in and went to the large table where the Great Man sat busy reading some papers. ‘Excuse me, sir, for interrupting you but we have received a letter with a Thai stamp on it, addressed to you but rather curiously. The person who addressed the envelope obviously did not know the correct protocol. I nearly threw it away, feeling it might be one of those spoof letters we get from time to time, but curiosity got the better of me and I feel I must hand it to you without delay.’
‘Micky,’ Sir Donald said with a smile. ‘Just give it me without being so long-winded.’
The PA handed it over and Sir Donald was galvanised by what he read. Dated 1 May 1955, sent from South Thailand and signed by a Ng Heng, Representative of the Malayan Races Liberation Army, offering peace talks with the British Government of Malaya. Can this be true? He read it again. I’ll find out.
‘Micky, ten to one it’s genuine. However, there’s only one man who can verify if that is so and can recognise the name.’
‘Sir, I know who you mean, Mr C C Too in Bluff Road. I’ll give him a call and have it transferred to you.’
‘Straightaway, please.’
The phone in C C Too’s office rang. Does this ever stop ringing so I can settle down to some work? ‘Too here. Can I help you?’
‘Mr Too, it is the High Commissioner’s PA here. Sir Donald would like to speak to you. May I put you through to him?’
‘But of course,’ and he heard the click as the call was transferred. ‘Sir, Mr Too is on the line.’
‘Mr Too, a quickie. I have just received a letter signed by a man whose name is given as Ng, N G, Heng, H E N G, apparently a representative of the Malayan Races Liberation Army, offering peace talks with the Government of Malaya. Can you elucidate for me, please?’
‘Sir Donald, in one: Ng Heng is Chin Peng’s secret code word. With that on the letter it has to be true.’
‘Are you one hundred percent sure?’
‘No, sir, two hundred percent,’ and the High Commissioner smiled as he heard the chuckle at the other end on the line.
‘Why now do you think, Mr Too?’
‘Because he realises the collapse of the MCP’s armed struggle. The CPM is acknowledging that the backbone of its guerrilla forces has been so badly broken that it would have to disband them and adopt the underground or subversion method of struggle if a political settlement, on their terms, is not achieved.’
‘It’s really as crucial as that, is it?’
‘Yes, sir, it is. Is there anything else you want to ask me?’
‘No. Many thanks indeed. Good day,’ and, mind racing, put the phone back on its cradle.
From then on until an amnesty was declared on the 9th of September, the political machine went into high gear.
31 July1955, Seremban: Since April there had been no contacts, despite much weary, dreary patrolling. The Queen’s Birthday Honours had seen an MC and two MMs for people in B and D Companies but there was nothing for anyone in A and C Companies. Apart from congratulating the recipients, nothing was said about those whose work was expected to be awarded, as nothing ever is. What was of interest was what was the new CO going to be like?
