The War on drugs
Drugs are a trillion-dollar business and the so-called War on Drugs is under-financed. So much is paid to the powers that be to turn a blind eye that those who fight the good fight deserve the credit they get when busting a drug ring.
Infiltrating a drug ring is dangerous in the extreme, torture and death the consequences for those caught. Brit Frank Hurst was such an agent for four decades and lived to tell about it. Retired now, he pens books vividly describing his experiences, with a touch of fiction.
The Postmistress Of Nong Khai, set in London and Thailand, is his first novel. The year is 1988. Literary creation Mike Rawlin is based largely on the author. Highly professional, he does things Hurst presumably didn’t do though probably trumpeted.
There’s no love at home, with wife, daughter and other relations all taking one another for granted. On the job, his superiors are officious, political, grabbing undeserved credit, pointing fingers when operations don’t go as planned.
Agents depend on informants, never shared. Mike’s favourite is Lek, a beautiful Thai Airways stewardess. It’s a complex relationship. Her boyfriend is Dutch drug lord Bart Vanderpool, whom Mike has been after for years. She is willing to help Mike take down his organisation, but makes him promise not to harm Bart.
Mike gives his word, aware that Bart’s safety isn’t entirely up to him, and he becomes infatuated with her. Lek now has two lovers. Mike is willing to toss aside his family and career for her. In a thrilling river chase, the equivalent of the Coast Guard blows up the drug-laden speedboat.
The penultimate chapter has us wondering whether Bart survived. And If so, which lover gets the girl?
If you want to know how the “War on Drugs” is actually conducted, you can’t do better than read Frank Hurst. And at 343 pages, there’s no padding.