OFFICIAL GM POST (Auxiliary); Posting as Co-GMDiamond Island Convention and Exhibition Center, Phnom Penh, Cambodia - 11/11/2022 05:42 UTC+7Compromising images and missives paraded on Ambassador Bunmak’s screen. He furrowed his brow. His initial reaction was that his phone had been hacked. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He promptly powered off his cellphone, cracked open the backside, and jettisoned the battery. His components now helplessly arranged on his table, he watched his compatriots gradually consume the same information that befell him. General Pham roared with laughter, beckoning colleagues to witness the embarrassing smut. “Huo Ren, you bastard! You lovable pervert!”
The cheerful Vietnamese likely meant only one thing. His gaze panned to the Chinese delegation, which scrambled to censor the uncensorable. Transparency was an unusual phenomenon for the People’s Republic. Huang Zhang alone maintained decorum, casually clacking away at some manner of file on a laptop.
Bunmak threw his hand behind him, summoning his aide with a couple snaps. He dispatched her as quickly as he received her, with the following instructions: “Check Ambassador Huang. Tell him that we don’t hold him responsible, and ask if he requires aid.” Within this humiliation was opportunity. When all fingers were pointed in mockery, an outstretched hand would be welcome.
As his underling ran off, he glanced towards the sidelined American and Russian delegations. They certainly had the technological capabilities. Was it them? Their confusion seemed equally sudden. There were doubtless malicious actors outside the usual suspects. He must pay closer attention than before.
He approached the Cambodian security officer on duty. “Excuse me, sir. I have suspicions that a malicious actor has compromised this convention. Do you have remedies for this?”
The officer shrugged. “Return to your seat. We’ll handle things.”
Bunmak gave the agent an uneasy look, unamused by such a curt answer. He shook the thought out of his head as he returned to his desk. He’d work to conclude.
The Thai woman made contact with the Chinese man. He nodded as she spoke, then closed and lifted his laptop. He abandoned his own, personally crossing the floor. Huang appeared to be a genuine fellow. Maybe he was that professional. Perhaps he acknowledged the situation's gravity. Either way, rational actors could be reasoned with.
Bunmak stood up and offered a slight bow, which Huang returned. “Distractions can be so unpleasant, can’t they?” Huang grinned, hiding a grimace. “We take care of the situation as we speak. No need for your assistance. Thank you for the offer.”
Bunmak reseated on his throne. “The negotiations we settle overshadow any leak. Thousands of lives are at stake, possibly millions.” He reconstructed his phone. “If I were you, though, I’d disassociate immediately with this… Huo Ren, and collect the remnant pieces.”
“If only bureaucracy was so intelligent,” Huang laughed. “We’re demanding access to and control of the Cambodian internet. The Kingdom sends back… mixed messages. I know I wouldn’t let outsiders through our own firewall.” He reopened his computer and flittered a password over the keys. A bright white virtual page greeted the two. “I took the Philippine proposal and tried to incorporate as much as possible into this new version.”
Bunmak skimmed the document for loopholes. Huang had done his homework, yet apparently conceded on nearly every article. “Looks good,” Bunmak sighed, “I see no reason why we can’t agree to this.”
“Given, well, unfortunate recent events,” Zhang commented, “We want a principal coauthor from across the aisle. Are you interested?”
Bunmak knew. China was too controversial to present resolutions alone. They’d be guaranteed to fail. They needed someone on the outside. Bunmak would accommodate, but not for free. “So long as I introduce it,” he smiled.
Huang and Bunmak saw eye to eye. “I’d hoped you’d say that, Ambassador. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” A few keyboard presses, and a distant printer whirred. Yet more, and the draft was uploaded to a secure shared convention server.
“Likewise.”
The gavel swung, and the ever authoritative voice of Tilki presided over the dying commotion. “As per multiple parties' requests, the People’s Republic of China's and Indonesia's included, the dais waives the remaining recess and calls this session again to order. I hope the additional time was used wisely.” He raised an eyebrow at lingering juvenile snickers at the incriminating documentation.
No more opportune time could be devised. Bunmak raised his voice. “Your Honor, the Kingdom of Thailand presents a draft representing a merger between the previous two. With permission from our peers, we wish to waive the reading and jump straight to the vote. The document should be available for everyone to view, regardless of a vocal reading.”
Soner Tilki checked his computer, then shrugged. “Recognized. Do you have a motion to approve this bill?”
“Yes, a roll call vote, please.”
“I second,” announced the Indonesian delegate.
Tilki called out delegations from across the assembly. They trusted Bunmak, and rightfully so. Every station called out “Aye.” What a surprise for ASEAN members, then, that Ambassador Huang Zhang at last concurred with them. A seamless, unanimous approval. An engineered miracle, earlier than the convention's first lunchtime, no less! The crowd applauded.
Tilki struck his gavel. “Well, that’s progress. At the dais's discretion, we’ll resume the aforementioned recess unless otherwise requested. There are things I wish to do by noon.”
As the delegates rose to fraternize, a familiar trot of footsteps in unison were heard beyond the hall. Bunmak, curious, peered through the doorway to find Lieutenant Channery Chea with her brother and her troop marching downstairs to attention near the building's entrance.
A firm grip held his shoulder; it was the soldier from before. “I told you we’d manage it, sir,” he chuckled. “You do your job, and we’ll do ours.”
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