Crude Deception

by Gordon Zuckerman

  Known for its distinctive architecture, luxurious atmosphere, and incomparable food and service, the Beau, as it was known, catered to the same clientele that could be found at the Winter Palace in Cairo, Claridge’s in London, the Ritz in Paris, and the Plaza in New York. For the next four days, the hotel would be their home. The prince’s staff had arranged for everything they would need.

  The living room portion of the Imperial Suite had been converted into a conference room where the group could meet in total privacy. Meals were prepared in the hotel’s special kitchen and were served in the privacy of the suite’s spacious dining room. Overlooking the lake, the room could be used also for relaxation and casual conversation. For security, each of the adjacent bedroom suites could be entered only from the common living area.

  As an additional precaution, the entire top floor had been reserved for their meeting. With the exception of the carefully screened service personnel and security guards, no one else was allowed on the floor.

  Prince Habib and Sir David Marcus were standing in the middle the living room, enjoying the magnificent view of Lake Geneva, when Mike, Juan Pablo, and Claudine were escorted into the elegant suite.

  After greeting Claudine, the prince turned toward the oil minister. “Welcome to Geneva. I don’t know how to adequately express my respect for you and my appreciation of your work. It’s hard to imagine how one man could bring about so much change in our industry. On behalf of my government and my friends in the Middle East, I would like to express our optimism regarding what we hope will be a productive visit.”

  Unaccustomed as he was to receiving such a fine compliment from a person of the prince’s stature, Juan Pablo hesitated before answering. “Thank you for your kind remarks. I hope you realize that the people in my country think of themselves as only a very small part of the world’s petroleum community. I regard the invitation to join you here in Geneva as a great honor. I am looking forward to our meeting.”

  Turning to his old friend and extending his hand, the prince said, “Mike, what a pleasure it is to see you again after all these years. For some reason that I don’t totally comprehend, I’ve missed my straight-talking, tell-it-like-it-is old friend and study mate.”

  Shaking his hand, Mike said, “I’ve always valued those two short years we spent in Cambridge. As I remember, you and I were able to create what at least we believed to be some remarkable insight into a few of the cases we were asked to present. It’s going to be interesting to see if we can be as constructive when the problems are far more complex and a bit more real.”

  The others, who were closely watching the initial encounter between these two powerful personalities, couldn’t have been more pleased.

  Well-rested and relaxed, they were all poised to start what promised to be three days of grueling work when the prince said, “Before we start working through the prepared agenda, I have another subject that I would like to discuss. No matter how quickly we are able to introduce the desired diversity, the major companies will still be in control of demand, distribution, and pricing of oil for a significant period of time. In the interim, before we are able to bring the new production on stream, retribution from the major oil companies could be a serious problem. Those of us who will be exposed to their wrath believe we may need to think about how we can protect ourselves. How would you feel if we spent some time talking about the Texas Railroad Commission?”

  Mike’s face lit up. “Congratulations! I see that you have been doing your homework!” he said, handing the prince a bound document. “Knowing this issue might come up, I thought we should be prepared. Here’s a summary memorandum I had our people prepare.”

  The prince took the document and turned back to the group. “Perhaps it would be helpful if I explained the significance of the Texas Railroad Commission to the rest of you. Simply put, in the twenties, the larger American oil companies were using their control of delivery systems and refining facilities to manipulate production quotas and wellhead prices for their own self-interests.

  “No longer willing to succumb to the financial tyranny of Big Oil, the independent producers organized themselves into a marketing organization known as the Texas Railroad Commission. Laws were passed allowing the Commission to negotiate price and production quotas on a collective bargaining basis. Having leveled the playing field, the oil producers were able to stabilize production and pricing. These laws are still in existence, and they have been tested and retested at every level of the American legal system.”

  “Once your people have had the opportunity to study this document,” said Mike, “I would be happy to introduce you to the people who run the Commission and the lawyers who have handled their cases.”

  “As I see it, there isn’t much difference between our emerging situation and what occurred in Texas,” said Prince Habib. “In both instances you have a centralized processor and marketer of petroleum products, and then you have a fragmented population of independent oil producers.”

  “That’s exactly right,” said Juan Pablo. “It’s a problem that we in Venezuela and our friends in Mexico have been concerned about for a long time. It has been suggested, when appropriate, that I should encourage conversation that will lead to the formation of a properly organized international coalition of oil-producing and oil-exporting countries. In Caracas, for working purposes, we refer to this proposed collective as Petroleum Exporting Countries, or PEC.”

  Facing the Venezuelan minister, the prince said, “Why don’t we agree to establish a working committee? Juan, David, it is my recommendation that the three of us plan to cochair this committee. All in favor?”

  Everyone at the table raised their hand.

  “Well, that didn’t take very long,” said the prince. “Why don’t we keep moving along?”

  Reaching into his briefcase for a second time, Mike withdrew another thick file. “Perhaps this would be the appropriate time for us to discuss a different but related issue. From everything I have been learning, it seems that any long-term relationship with the oil-rich countries of the Middle East must be founded on mutual respect and understanding. This file contains the legal briefs and supporting data that describe, in detail, the two major oil companies’ overcharging of refining and transport fees to the Venezuelan government.

  “Why wouldn’t it make sense for our new committee to use this information to assist emerging oil-rich nations in finding existing fraud or preventing similar practices from occurring in their countries? What better evidence do they need to realize that the major oil companies can’t always be trusted?”

  “May I see those files?” the prince asked. After taking a minute to read the summary conclusions, he said, “These files look exactly like we hoped they would. When you are forced to deal with companies that have such an exalted opinion of themselves, companies that act with such arrogance, you have no idea how one-sided negotiations on almost any subject can become. Knowing we have this information, and that we have Juan Pablo’s assistance in showing us how to use it, will make an enormous contribution.”

  Turning to face Juan Pablo, the prince asked, “Are you certain that providing us with this information and helping us is something you want to do?”

  “If it will help you balance the playing field for negotiations, I will be happy to assist you any way I can,” said Juan Pablo. “Besides, I have written permission from my government to provide you with the copies I’ve just given you.”

  The prince was smiling, David was smiling, Claudine was smiling, and most important, Juan Pablo was smiling.

  Without hesitating, Juan Pablo reached into his briefcase and withdrew another file. “The content contained in these files will tell you everything you need to know as you restructure your existing contracts with your production partner, Pan-Arabia Oil. The terms and conditions in this agreement, among other things, define the increasing of their royalty payments to fifty percent, as well as define the mechanics of how Venezuela is allowed to participate in twen
ty-five percent of the peripheral service profits. Should Venezuela decide to accept its share of the profits in the form of petroleum production, they will, with the exception of Mexico, control the first commercially viable supply of oil to be produced in Latin America outside the control of major oil companies. Independent American oil companies are already lining up to bid on this production.”

  Pausing to absorb what he had just heard, the prince said, “What wonderful suggestions! I feel safe in saying that if the same constructive atmosphere I’m seeing here today continues to prevail, you might be surprised how quickly things could change.”

  Resuming control of the meeting, Mike said, “The time has come for us to complete what we came here to do. Let’s concentrate on solving the remaining problems so we can start organizing the prototype project the prince has suggested.”

  Chapter 24

  THE SECOND ATTACK

  To reach Indonesia’s principal military base, local authorities responsible for Cecelia and Ted’s security had strongly suggested they travel on a specially reconstructed military supply train. Boarding the train, the two weary travelers had difficulty understanding what made this train so special. The hard wooden seats looked no different from what they had seen on other military troop trains. The splintered floors clearly revealed their age and history of hard use. The windows were locked shut, and the only sources of air were the open doors at the front and rear of the car.

  As they waited for the last of the weapons and their military escort to be loaded into the first and third cars of the three-car train, Cecelia and Ted looked around at what would be their traveling facility for the next eight hours. “Ted,” said Cecelia, “remind me why anyone thinks that riding on this train is our best alternative for passing through the mountains and heavy jungle. I must be missing something.”

  Cecelia was having a difficult time enduring the hard seats and the hot, humid, dust-laden air while the slow-moving train made its way up the mountainous jungle terrain separating one side of the island from the other.

  Lost in studying her notes from previous meetings, Cecelia was startled by the sound of two thunderous explosions, one in front and one behind the train. She felt the car brake to a sudden stop. Almost immediately, the head guard stationed in the rear car entered and motioned for them to lie down on the floor, under the heavy wooden seats and against the inner wall of the passenger car. In his best English he tried to explain: “The walls of this car, they are made of hardened steel, and the windows are bulletproof.”

  Wedged in the cramped quarters, unable to see anything, Ted and Cecelia could only surmise what must have been happening from the sounds they heard outside. At first they could hear the yelling of what must have been a large group of bandits attacking the train from the left side. Judging by the pinging sound of bullets bouncing off the metal sides and the windows, they assumed their attackers were only armed with light weapons. Next, they heard the automatic fire of weapons that must have been positioned from behind the sliding doors of the front and rear cars as well as those that were located on top of the cars behind a circular wall of sandbags. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Ted would have remarked that it felt like they were in the middle of an Old West train robbery.

  “As long as you stay down on the floor, you will be quite safe,” the guard said. “We should have no problem stopping them from reaching the train. They are not too many and they are only armed with small weapons, nothing that should be able to penetrate the car. Once the rescue train that’s ahead of us backs up, we should be able to change trains and proceed.”

  The sound of a different weapon and the shattering of the bulletproof glass signaled that some kind of heavier weapon’s fire was being concentrated on their car. Realizing there was nothing to do until the rescue train arrived, Ted positioned himself on top of Cecelia to protect her from any ricocheting bullets that might enter the car through the windows. Lying there with his arms wrapped around her, Ted began to reflect. I don’t know what scares me the most: Is it the sound of the bullets shattering the windows and rattling around inside our car, or the effect all this must be having on Cecelia? How much can she take? How long are we going to have to remain on this rough, splintery, dirty floor? How will we know when the other train arrives?

  The sound of a whistle was their signal that it was time to move. Almost immediately, the guard motioned for them to crawl forward to the car door and climb down the stairs on the side of the train opposite the attackers. Using the cars to shield them, the two bankers worked their way forward. Thirty yards separated the two trains. Picking up Cecelia, Ted wrapped his arms around her and made a dash for the protective cover of the next train.

  Arriving at what must previously have been an important Japanese military reservation, they were greeted by K. Kai Wan, a general in the Indonesian regional army. He was dressed in a pressed, tailored uniform. A folded blue-and-white polka-dotted silk scarf was carefully arranged around General Wan’s neck, separating his green military uniform from his thick, heavily pomaded, jet-black hair. His combat boots were shined to a mirror-like finish. To complete the effect, he wore a red beret, carefully placed at a jaunty angle. Cecelia was having difficulty deciding whether he was an actor from central casting or the real deal.

  Speaking English with a British accent, he formally greeted his guests.

  General Wan’s personally conducted tour required the better part of the day. They visited the vast array of underground bunkers used to store armored vehicles, troop carriers, artillery pieces, and row after row of cases filled with ammunition, all left behind by the Japanese army. Troop barracks, mess facilities, and the officers’ quarters and club were located on the right side of the parade grounds. A fully equipped machine shop and aircraft hangars were located to the left. As she watched planes land and take off, Cecelia concluded that an airstrip must be located on the far side, beyond the compound.

  Ted, no stranger to military reservations, said, “Cecelia, judged by any standard the scale of this outpost is enormous. It’s a modern, well-designed facility, untouched by the ravages of war. It must have been designed by the Japanese to supply their outlying command centers, and if necessary, defend the island from an Allied invasion. If we knew the extent of these command posts we could make a pretty good guess at the true strength of the Indonesian military capability. It will be interesting to see what General Wan shares with us.”

  They were midway through dinner when the general turned to Cecelia and asked, “Would it be expecting too much for you to inform Washington what kind of a battle the Dutch would face if they decide to initiate military action? Out here, we hope that when the Dutch, the Communists, or anyone else understands our true military capability and the depth of our resolve to protect our country, they will leave us alone.”

  In response, Ted said, “Tell me, General, is this your only base? Why couldn’t an advancing hostile force just skip past you here and proceed with the attack elsewhere, on some other island?”

  Smiling, General Wan walked to the rear wall, which was covered with a large curtain. Pulling it back, he revealed a wall-sized topographic map of Indonesia, showing the entire island nation in minute detail. From where she was sitting, Cecelia could see many colored markers. Watching his guests study the map, the general said, “You will note the location and the different colored marks. Each of them denotes the nature and location of another of our bases.

  “Miss Chang, I am going to give you letter-sized copies of this highly classified map. We can only hope they will make interesting reading back in Washington and act as a deterrent to those who would attack us.”

  Chapter 25

  A ROTH FAMILY REUNION

  Jacques was becoming impatient. Left in New York, he was receiving regular reports from Claudine and Cecelia. Although the information was sketchy, he was able to surmise both of them were making substantial progress and were safe.

  Reports of the two attacks against Cecelia were
alarming, but not as concerning as Ted’s subtle attempts to downplay growing problems with her health. I hope Mike returns from Geneva in time to greet her when she returns; he’ll know what to do. He was having a difficult time waiting for the meetings in Geneva to conclude so he could meet Claudine in Paris. He’d asked her to travel there once her business was done so they could consult with Jacques’s father on the Sentinels’ developing plan.

  Annoyed by the ringing of his telephone, without thinking he picked up the receiver and said, “Yeah, what do you want?”

  A polite but firm voice answered, “Excuse me, Mr. Roth, this is Agent Brown of the Secret Service calling. We were wondering if you would allow the service to arrange your upcoming trip to Paris? We need to coordinate your travel plans with MI5 and Paris’s Sûreté while you and your wife are in Europe.”

  Claudine and Jacques had arranged to communicate by telegram to avoid the risk of having their telephone conversations intercepted. With the exchange of two messages, they planned to meet in Paris.

  As promised, Jacques was waiting on the platform of Gare St. Lazare when Claudine’s train from Geneva arrived.

  Jacques was not the only person standing on the platform that day. Members of the Sûreté, dressed to resemble baggage handlers and family members waiting to greet their relatives, were positioned all along the platform.

  Not certain from which car Claudine would be disembarking, Jacques was standing midway before the stationary train when he saw her step down, two cars to his left. A nod of his head was all that was required for the security force to move in and form a protective curtain around each of them.

  The excitement of seeing Claudine emerge from the train drove any thought of Samson from Jacques’s mind. The newlyweds half-walked, half-ran toward each other.