Crescent Moon Rising. Kerry B Collison
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is Anita,’ Agus smiled at a bikini-clad beauty adorning one of the two settees watching a video. The stunning Mena-donese girl smiled coyly and waved. ‘She brought a few friends,’ Agus added, ‘you’ll find them down the passageway.’
Andrew mentally inventoried the cabin’s layout and lavish furnishings. ‘You might have difficulty convincing me to leave when we return.’
‘The ship’s only recently been refurbished,’ Agus proudly explained, ‘there are five guest cabins, all with private en suite facilities and spa.’ He was enjoying the moment. ‘Even the four-man-crew’s quarters below deck are air-conditioned.’ Andrew had already met the expatriate captain when he boarded. ‘How often do you get to take it out?’ he asked.
Agus shrugged. ‘Whenever the opportunity arises,’ he answered, not evasively. ‘Come, let’s go up top and enjoy the view.’
Andrew filled his lungs with sea air, leaned forward and gripped the railing, scanning the line of scattered islands reaching out to the horizon. He had frequented the tropical setting on many an occasion over the years, mooring his ageing Grand Banks cruiser off one of the virgin, uninhabited islands and spending the weekend diving amongst the multicolored corals.
As powerful twin-engine 750 horsepower GM diesels drove them deeper into the one-hundred-and-twenty-island clus-ter away from the more popular day-tripper resorts of Pulau Ayer and Bidadari, Andrew relaxed, the pressures of Jakarta life dissipating as the capital’s skyscrapers slipped from view. He turned to his host. ‘Where are we headed?’
Agus grinned. ‘Did I tell you I bought a place out past Pulau Putri?’
Andrew raised a brow; surprised that Agus had managed to keep such an acquisition secret from the city’s plethora of rumor mongers. ‘When?’
‘Oh, about a year ago.’ Andrew could see that Agus was pleased with this revelation and raised his glass in salute.
‘Good for you, Agus,’ he leaned over and patted the other man’s shoulder, ‘and thank you for sharing this confidence.’
‘I had a team of Singaporeans come down with materials and build the bungalow so I could keep the venture under wraps,’ he confided.
Andrew could not resist laughing. ‘My God, Agus, I am impressed!’
They arrived at their destination mid morning, Andrew whistling his approval at the idyllic setting, the bungalow’s architecture blending with the island’s natural ambience. Surrounded by the whitest sand, the atoll remained covered with lush vegetation, coconut palms swaying lazily under an azure sky, the pristine waters so clear he could see fish swimming idly, metres below the surface. Agus issued instructions for the mini-harem to remain on board. Andrew was then given a tour of the five-hectare island, the pair strolling along a narrow path that meandered through the flora to a clearing on the far side of the atoll.
Andrew lifted his face to the sun. ‘Must remember to make more time for moments like this.’
Agus removed his sandals and waded into the shallow water then turned, shielding his eyes from the brilliant sun. The men could no longer hear the monotonous thumping emanating from the resort’s generator, both now conscious of the island’s rhythm as wind ruffled palms, and an occasional surge from the wake of some passing freighter spilled imperceptibly onto the sand.
‘One thing that has always frustrated me in being Javanese,’ Agus opened, Andrew recognizing that he was about to learn the purpose of their outing. ‘…and that is having to be so damn circuitous when attempting to establish a point.’
Andrew smiled inwardly. Agus was already heading down that tortuous, cultural path.
‘Before I continue, I need your assurance that if we don’t arrive at an agreement today, whatever transpires remains here.’
Andrew considered the request before responding. He felt reasonably confident that whatever Agus had in mind there would be sufficient enticement to ensure the response he expected. ‘You have that undertaking.’
‘Good,’ Agus waded from the lukewarm sea and strolled the few metres to a copse of coconut palms seeking refuge from the sun. He looked up into the trees and, satisfied that none of the fruit would strike in the event one fell, sat on his haunches in relaxed Indonesian pose. Andrew remained standing soaking up the rays; his curiosity building as to the direction their conversation might lead.
Agus picked up a shell and threw it aimlessly. ‘Would you mind telling me what stock you hold in Greg Young’s new float?’
Andrew was caught by surprise. ‘My group was not registered as a buyer,’ he parried.
Agus crowed. ‘My sources inform me that you are holding around ten percent.’
‘And you want to know because…?’
The Javanese entrepreneur looked the American directly in the eye. ‘I am holding you to your promise. What is said here stays here…okay?’
Andrew nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘I want to buy your stock,’ he hesitated, before adding, ‘off market.’
‘Why don’t you just go out into the market and buy another ten percent?’
‘Come on, Andy,’ Agus opened his hands as if helpless, ‘once the word spread that I was interested the stock would rocket.’
Andrew accepted this comment. ‘Then why didn’t you take a position when the prospectus first went out?’
‘I did,’ Agus resisted a sneer, ‘but the nominees’ allocations were cut back due to the flood of applications. Greg Young had instructed the brokers to widen the spread of shareholders.’
‘Why the interest in Young & Budiono, won’t it directly compete with Bimaton?’
Agus dropped his chin and looked over his sunglasses at Andrew. ‘There is a closed tender coming up. There will be only two contenders.’
Andrew understood immediately. ‘Must be some tender…’ he left his thoughts hanging.
‘I’d be receptive to paying you a premium of, say, twenty percent on today’s closing price.’
Andrew calculated quickly. The company’s market cap had reached around $100,000,000. He held ten percent and should he accept Agus’ offer, he would increase his profit by a further $2,000,000. ‘I’m interested. If I were to proceed I’d need to have the deal done offshore as I wouldn’t be interested in paying tax penalties.’
‘The deal would be done off market. We can arrange the transfer to avoid the taxes.’
‘When do you want my decision?’ He had already decided to accept the offer.
Agus forced a smile. ‘Today.’
Andrew was amused. ‘How about we have lunch, gather up the ladies and you give me a couple of hours on the way back to sleep on it?’
It was Agus’ turn to laugh. ‘And by sleeping on it you mean…?’
The men shook hands.
The following week control of Greg Young’s publicly listed company passed covertly to Agus Sumarsono. Before the end of that year Young & Budiono would become the darling of the Jakarta Stock Exchange, having secured two major infrastructure projects by what virtually amounted to government proclamation.
Tenggulun Village – East Java
Sweat trickled into Amrozi’s eyes as he worked away in the galvanized-iron-roofed shed repairing his Yamaha motorcycle. A loudspeaker crackled and then shattered the air with the mid-morning call, summoning the faithful to prayer. Immediately, he downed tools, wiped grease from his hands and ventured outside the makeshift workshop where he observed other villagers gravitating towards the muezzin’s call. A dilapidated bus sounded its horn as it competed with an ox-drawn cart for dominance over the broken macadam. He wrinkled,