The Tiger’s Den

Vikram watches as the ashes glow and scatter with unnatural speed. An aroma briefly touches his senses. A scent of myrrh or some other rare incense. The creature was tangible and real enough, he considers, but wrought from some strange immaterial substance…

It is oddly exhilarating , making a moonlight flit from the hotel. Taylor manages to stall the manager just long enough for Vikram, Ek and Bear to grab their belongings from their expensive hotel rooms and board the dusty jeeps. They meet Taylor at a side door and take off. As they leave the hotel grounds, a police car turns the corner on their way to the scene.

They take a circuitous route out of the city, in case the police or army have placed a call to stop them. They pass the city’s beautiful old palace, whose floodlights have only recently been restored. They then head north-east, rather than north, driving through paddies and villages before re-joining the main highway.




The night driving is exciting but taxing. Only the moonlight and the headlights of a rare truck lighten the highway. After an hour or so, even the main road narrows, and begins to curve and climb into jungle and hills…

Vikram squints forward through the beams of the headlights. He spots a good location, a bombed out farm building. The jeeps can park up behind the structure with no risk of detection from the road.

Everyone is grateful for the plentiful provisions —biscuits, boiled sweets, nuts—provided by U Gem. Taylor grumbles about the stacks of ‘Limey’ chocolate, but brightens when he finds some bars of Hersheys packed in with the treats.

Taylor is the oldest and most tired , having driven the whole previous day and much of the night without rest. He falls asleep almost immediately. His younger colleagues also begin to feel sleepy…

The next day, the vehicles set off again on the main northern road and take a turning into a remote region of the Kachin Hills.

The road is rougher, with stretches of mud track and much less frequent traffic. There are steep climbs and drops with treacherous hairpin turns. The jungle flanks the road more closely, at times forming a leafy canopy that hides the sun.

Jeeps , re-purposed for civilian use, are common here. The party’s vehicles no longer seem out of place. To refuel, they pause at the few hill towns that have petrol pumps. The towns are garrisoned by Gurkha companies, the best of Burma Command’s troops. Clearly the area is regarded as unsafe. The Gurkhas guarding the petrol stops are garrulous and keen to trade their rations for sweets and booze. They talk of Kachin separatists, Burmese nationalists and bandits in the region ahead.

Taylor crawls across the damaged bridge with appropriate caution, so that Ek is easily able to follow in the second jeep.

He swerves well in time to avoid the villager, who smiles sheepishly.

But he breaks rather too slowly to avoid the overhanging branch, which smashes the windscreen and seems set to impale him…the jeep stops with inches to spare…

Bear chats to a Gurkha sergeant who wants to trade local eggs for a a pack of the party’s American cigs. The man is quietly-spoken and polite, but Bear notices that he wears the ribbon for the Military Cross. Clearly the man has seen plenty of action. The sergeant warns that the area beyond Gurkha control has been sealed off. Kachin separatists have seized control of nearby villages in protest against bandits smuggling opium from the highlands. Nobody is allowed to enter the area.

They will not be able to go much further on the road.

"Well that’s just dandy," says Taylor when he hears the news. He outlines the options to proceed.

Taylor listens to the party’s opinion and nods.

That evening, resting in an empty church hostel, Taylor plans out an ingenious but treacherous route to the temple area. To avoid monitored roads, the route links two disused but potentially intact lines of communication —an abandoned telegraph road, and a stretch of rail track that once served a remote tea station.

To join the two lines, the party will need to take desperate measures. First, follow a river into a jungle-covered valley to reach the telegraph road. Later, to move between the telegraph road and abandoned bush rail, they will need to hack a path for the jeeps through a band of steep jungle.

"I am not sure if we can drive on the tracks. We can walk from there if not. I didn’t say it would be easy," growls Taylor.

…….


The next morning, the jeeps roll out of the village, laden with gear for the final push. Once out of sight of any habitations, Taylor indicates a turning that leads to a shallow, noisy river.

"Here we are. At the start of our own lucky Route 7. First, we are going to have drive next to this river, or in it. All being well, we’ll be able to hop onto the telegraph road a few miles up-stream."

"Now, finally, Burma Command isn’t watching. No more need for civility. Shall we get ourselves ready?"

Taylor undresses, stepping into the cover of one of the jeeps to maintain decorum. He roughly folds away his white suit and hat. Then shrugs on a safari jacket and fastens a cross belt with a machete, .45 automatic and ammo. He slips on his old Marauders jungle hat, as a lucky token and nod to his war days. He checks his gear. Binoculars, smokes, lighter, water bottle, map. He lights up one of his smokes and grimaces.

" My guess is that it’s going to be bumpy.…"