The Khmer Kill: A Dox Short Story (Kindle Single)

Rithisak Sorm. He’s former Khmer Rouge—”
    “Those folks are still running around?”
    “Oh, yes. Many of them make their home in Pailin province. Our man included, in fact. Though he’d be harder to get to there because outsiders are more conspicuous than in the capital.”
    “You’re looking to take him down for war crimes?”
    “Nobody cares what atrocities he committed in his youthful exuberance, though I can tell you he committed plenty. No, this is about something more contemporary. You might know that Cambodia is one of the world’s major hubs for human trafficking. Labor and sex slaves; men, women, and children; to and from Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia, Macao, and Taiwan… they all pass through Cambodia. Or come to rest here.”
    Dox did know all that, and plenty more, but he’d gotten far in life having people think he was a hick. Partly it was the accent. Fooled ‘em every time. “Okay,” he said.
    “Sorm is a key facilitator of the trade. He has a talent for connections. Gang bosses. Politicians. Cops. He knows every customs and border official along the length of the Mekong. He makes sure everyone gets a cut of whatever they have a taste for—cash for the greedy, opium for the dope fiends, children for the degenerates.”
    Whatever reluctance Dox had been feeling a few moments earlier instantly evaporated. Bribery and dope-running put this Sorm character squarely in the game. And children? Sorm sounded like more than just a legitimate target. He sounded like someone who flat-out needed killing.
    But still, there were aspects of Gant’s story that didn’t figure. “So your problem is that by ‘connections,’ you also mean ‘protection.’”
    “That is exactly right. You know why Sorm will be in Phnom Penh this week?”
    Of course he didn’t know, so he just waited for Gant to continue.
    “There’s a meeting of a UN GIFT task force—that’s the United Nations Global Initiative to Fight Human Trafficking. Sorm always comes to town for these—they’re opportunities for him to fete existing customers and to meet potential new ones. Client relations and business development, all without even having to get on a plane. And you know what? I don’t even blame the people he corrupts. They know nothing ever changes, so why fight the system? Why not profit from it, while you can?”
    “This is why you don’t just arrest him?”
    Gant nodded. “The White House has been trying for years to get the Cambodian government to crack down on Sorm. It’s like running into a brick wall.”
    “So you’ve decided to turn to alternative means of law enforcement.”
    “That’s a nice way to put it, and it does seem to be the trend. I’m sure you’ve noticed the military is gradually being repurposed, right? Soldiers being deployed as cops, Military Commissions instead of civilian courts… And it’s no more than bipartisan consensus that the president has the inherent power to order the indefinite imprisonment, even the execution, of terrorist suspects, including American citizens. This isn’t so terribly different, if you think about it. The same principle, just a bit… broader.”
    “A bit.”
    Gant shrugged. “The public has proven itself comfortable with drone attacks on terrorists. We don’t think the market is quite ready for the acknowledged assassination of human traffickers, too. But Sorm is no less a problem because of that.”
    “Pardon me for saying so, but I don’t think this all sounds like a long-term strategy for success.”
    “I’m sure it’s not. But if I may utter the unutterable? Long-term success… that’s over. The empire is in its twilight. The goal here isn’t long-term health, it’s just to give the patient a few more comfortable years.” He smiled. “Of course, don’t quote me on that.”
    Dox smiled back. “Hey, as far as I’m concerned? This meeting never happened.”
    “Indeed. Anyway, this is just what happens toward the end. Things get… ad-hoc. Seat-of-the-pants. You use whatever viable tools you still have, and for purposes they weren’t designed or intended for. Basically, you do what you have to so your own country doesn’t wind up like this one.”
    Dox didn’t much care for Gant’s pessimism, though he suspected that was because he couldn’t much refute it. But none of that mattered. What was important was that Gant’s briefing had told him what he needed to know. So he should have just let it go. But the act of asking some