The Golden Triangle

He spoke excellent French as we negotiated our business, but I never could discern whether he could speak English as well. I was careful not to ask him too many questions about his past, especially since he knew I was a direct agent of U.S. intelligence, and he didn’t offer any personal information. It was clear that the Mien tribesmen would do anything he approved, and they seemed in awe of Gail, who just lounged coolly in a nearby rope sling, being as enticing as possible for Kwei Lin as she had been instructed to be, while the chieftain and I hashed out our agreement. For his part Kwei Lin wasn’t nearly as attentive to Gail’s presence as his cohorts were; his attention was locked on me and what I was proposing.

We were able to strike a very acceptable bargain within a short time, and, as twilight descended, a couple of women were shuffling around and lighting small torches extending from the live columns but well away from the thatched ceiling.

Making quite clear that the U.S. government was quite pleased with the arrangement, I ceremoniously beckoned for Gail to come forward so that Kwei Lin could claim the sugaring of his deal. She languidly unfolded herself from the rope sling and floated over to the center to the pavilion, up to the edge of the table where Kwei Lin and I had spread our maps during the negotiations.