Sloan ran up the engine and began the take-off roll down the runway. He used only about half the runway before he was airborne and headed seaward, gaining altitude for the flight across the channel. About five minutes over the channel, his problems began. He heard a loud bang at the same time his left aileron became unresponsive. The plane turned violently. He smelled gas and saw a pool of liquid on the floor of the right seat. Distracted by the liquid, he fought for control of the small plane. It happened very quickly. He felt another detonation and saw a flash of light. Suddenly, he had no command of the plane at all. It fell into a steep dive, dropping out of the sky at a terrifying rate. None of the flight controls responded. The plane spun rapidly and the sea rushed toward him. He crashed nose-first into the channel. Parts of the broken plane lay on the surface for a few moments before they exploded. The many pieces then sank into the deep Kaiwi Channel. In the end, Sloan felt no pain at all.
CHAPTER 32
Her car pulled up under the canopy. Rorke exited the back seat and aimed a radiant smile at the doormen of Buddy’s building as she entered. She walked to the security desk and directed her attention to the heavy-set man sitting there.
“It’s a nice surprise to see you, Ms. Rorke. We were not expecting you today.”
“I know, Marcus. This is very spontaneous. I just landed in Hawaii an hour ago, and wondered if by chance Mr. Jerome is available.”
“You’re in luck, Ms. Rorke. He arrived from Texas about twenty minutes ago. Let me call up and see if he can see you.” Rorke thought to herself that the idea of luck was a bit overrated. Pauling knew exactly where Buddy was at any given moment. His arrival that afternoon in Honolulu was no surprise.
Marcus pressed a button on the electronics panel in front of him and spoke into his headset.
“Paku, this is Marcus. Let Mr. Jerome know that Ms. Rorke is here and she’d like to stop up to see him.”
Marcus waited for a minute, listened, and then looking up at Sam, he said, “He’s delighted you stopped by. Please go right up.”
“Thank you,” said Rorke. She walked around the console and shook Marcus’s hand. When she did, her eyes went off his to scan the screens on his side of the desk. The only active video feed at the time framed the entrance foyer to Buddy’s apartment. There were no monitors active inside the residence area.
Sam smiled at Marcus again and walked to the elevator banks, past the large man posted outside of the private elevator to Buddy’s apartment. The big man stepped briefly inside the carriage with her and slid his thumbs over the security reader. The light of the reader turned green and the guard pressed the up button before returning to his post. The doors closed and the lift started to move. When it reached Buddy’s floor, Paku was standing in the entrance hall to greet her.
Paku led her to the terrace where Buddy stood to greet her in his Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans.
“What a wonderful surprise,” Buddy exclaimed. “You know I must be living a virtuous life to be blessed with a beautiful red-haired angel showing up on my doorstep twice in the same week. You’re looking good, honey; you smell good, too.”
“Thank you, Buddy.”
“Let’s sit out here,” he said, gesturing to the terrace seats. He had a grin on his face and asked, “Is it too early for you to have a drink? It’s about 8:00 o’clock in Houston. I believe we’re on the safe side of the 5:00 o’clock fence.”
“Sure, why not?” she said.
“Good answer. Hey, did you see that new Sir Winston oil on the wall?”
“I did notice it. When did you buy it?”
“Just last week. Do you like it?”
“It’s a different kind of landscape than what you see from this terrace.”
“Sure, but let’s not hold that against him. He didn’t live in Hawaii. I like it.”
“That’s all that matters, Buddy,” she said quietly.
With that, Paku walked into the room with a clear drink on ice for Buddy and glass of white wine.
“Is this all right for you, Ms. Rorke?” Paku asked, as he presented the wine.
“Yes, thank you, Paku.”
Buddy waited until Paku left the room. “Now, what brings you here?” He sounded more businesslike.
“I’m following up on your earlier announcement.”
Buddy lowered his voice to a whisper. “You mean that Shelly’s protein causes cancer?”
“Yes, that,” she said, following his lead to whisper.
“What about it?”
“It’s kind of an unpleasant topic, isn’t it?”
“You bet. It’s annoying as hell to think Shelly beat me again, although this one cost him a lot more than it cost me. What about it?”
She hesitated before asking, “Can we talk about something else for a minute?”
“Honey, you can do whatever you like. If you want to change the conversation away from rice, I don’t mind talking about something else—anything else, as a matter of fact.”
“Do you have any cameras in your bedroom?” she asked.
“Cameras in my bedroom?” he repeated. “Now, that’s a very interesting question, Sam. Why do you want to know that?” He looked directly at her with a little smile forming on his now happy face. “No. Hell no. The only record of what goes on in there is right here, and nowhere else.” He tapped his head.
“Absolutely no cameras are allowed in the bedroom. I don’t ever want to think of the boys downstairs watching me in there. You also might like to know that the cameras throughout the rest of the house are only active when we have a business group in here. When I’m entertaining or home alone, no cameras are on.” The smirk on his face widened. “Now, why are you asking about cameras in my bedroom?”
She undid another button on her blouse, then removed the clip from her hair and shook it out.
“Why don’t you give Paku the night off?” she whispered.
Buddy grinned, thinking about how he’d like to see the evening ahead progress. “Oh, he’ll be out of sight once he cooks dinner in a little bit. I sure hope you can stay. I don’t know what he’s cooking tonight. I’m sure it’ll be a helluva meal. It always is.”
“I’m not hungry, Buddy.”
“Yeah, but you will be. We’ll have a great sunset tonight over Diamond Head followed by a fabulous Paku dinner. After that, he’ll go, and it’ll be just you and me in this little ol’ apartment.”
“No. I mean I want us to be alone right now.” There was no room for doubt in her demand.
Buddy pondered it and said thoughtfully, “Well, I guess the boys downstairs could bring us a little carry out for later.” He yelled out, “Paku, come here.” A few seconds later, the houseman arrived.
Buddy looked at him and said, “I want you to take the night off. Go down to the Royal Hawaiian and blow off a little steam. Have a good meal made by someone else.”
Paku turned to leave.
“Make sure they give you the company rate,” Buddy yelled after him.
After they heard the door close, she said, “Buddy, would you show me your bedroom?”
“Oh yeah. Third door on the right down the hall, and I’m right behind you.”
They stood and walked down the hallway.
“Bring my purse, please,” she called over her shoulder.
Buddy turned and picked up the bag, following her.
She walked ahead of him and was sitting on the large bed in the room overlooking Diamond Head when he arrived.
“Sit here with me,” she said.
He happily did as he was told.
“Would you hand me my purse?”
“Sure.” He passed the large bag to her and she fished inside it.
She moved quickly. She abruptly stood and turned to face him. Rather than see it, he heard the hammer cock of the pistol and felt the cold, hard, short
revolver barrel on his forehead. She was no longer smiling.
“Buddy,” she said evenly, “I don’t want any more of your flirtation bullshit. I have important business to discuss with you. I want to tell you how to save your life and I hope you’ll pay close attention.”
Buddy was still in shock, trying to process what was happening. He was having difficulty forming words, only managing to stammer out, “Wh-what the hell is going on here? Okay, you got my undivided attention, Sam.”
“All right. Now I’m going to put my gun away and we’re going to talk about your very big problem without any bullshit.”
She put the gun back in her purse.
He watched her closely. “What’s this all about? Who are you, really? Are you a cop or a government spy?”
“Never mind who I am. Let’s talk about you.”
Buddy was quiet, still trying to process what was happening. “Okay, no bullshit. You say I have a big problem?” he asked nervously, not taking his eyes of the bag. “What’s my big problem?”
“It’s a huge problem,” she said.
“Yes? What’s that?” he said seriously.
“Your rice was stolen from the USDA.”
Buddy seemed to relax when she told him her news. “Sam, that’s no big deal. That’s not a ‘huge problem.’ I don’t know why anyone would want to do that. It’s a failed project. We shut it down. It’s okay, though. That rice has no value to us anymore. You had me worried there for a minute. Now, let’s stop talking business since we’ve got that out of the way.”
“No, you don’t understand,” she said slowly and firmly. “Your rice was taken to China.”
Buddy shrugged his shoulders at the news. “They’re welcome to it as far as I am concerned. What do I care?”
“Now I want you to think about this, Buddy,” she said, slowly. “Your cancer-causing rice is a highly invasive plant. As far as we’ve determined, it’s growing in at least three different areas of China and almost certainly in more by now. Your rice plant is practically indistinguishable from all the other rice in China, except that it grows like a weed.”
She waited while he processed what she had just told him.
“Sam, just who are you?” He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess that could be a big problem. They’re going to have to dig up those fields and burn all that stuff.”
“Yes, they will—that isn’t going to happen for a while. It’s going to take time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Listen to me, in plain English, now, Buddy. No one is going to say a word about this. The rice is going to continue to grow in China until the diplomats can sort all this out.”
“No, seriously? How can you not stop it right away? We gotta stop it.”
“The timing of that decision is well above my pay grade. We’re not saying anything for now.”
Buddy was stunned. “How can you do that?” he finally managed.
“We didn’t do anything. They stole the rice.”
Buddy considered her response. “It doesn’t matter who stole it. You gotta stop ‘em.”
“In time, I’m sure we will. For now, let’s concentrate on your problem.”
“My problem? What’s my problem? I keep asking. I have no problem. I don’t want that rice anymore.”
“No, Buddy. You have to understand that you’re the guy responsible for potentially destroying China’s primary food source and causing cancer for its entire population.”
“The hell I am!”
“No, you are. If word of this ever leaks out, that you were the man behind this rice bioengineering project, it won’t be pretty.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m thinking that if the Chinese government learns where this rice came from, your life won’t be worth very much. I can’t even imagine how many assassination squads would be dispatched from the MSS to track you down.”
“What’s ‘MSS?’”
“It’s the Chinese Ministry of State Security, and I can tell you that their people make our CIA guys look like boy scouts.”
Buddy was beginning to squirm. “That’s not fair!”
“No, Buddy, it’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.”
Buddy was quiet, with sweat beading on his forehead. “I wasn’t trying to do this. Hell, I only wanted to jerk Shelly around for beating me at golf.”
“I’m sorry about that, Buddy. I think your only hope is to keep what you did very quiet or you’re probably—no you’re definitely—a dead man.”
“I swear, no one knows about this.”
“Are you sure you didn’t tell Shelly?”
“No, hell, no. I told you. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.”
“What about the scientists we met in San Francisco?”
“They don’t know what happened at Shelly’s company. They’re working on corn now.” Buddy stood and began to pace.
Sam’s tone softened as she watched him. “Buddy, for what it’s worth, the PRC will never admit to the truth. Soon, you may hear about rice blight or an insect infestation of the Chinese rice harvest. You certainly won’t hear them say that eating their rice will cause cancer.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Maybe. It may lessen the threat of the cancer-causing plants being traced back to you.”
Buddy was thoughtful and said, “Yeah, I guess it does.”
“You might be okay if you can keep your mouth shut.”
“I can certainly do that,” he said earnestly. “I can keep this secret.” He took a few deep breaths and added, “I think I’m going to have to hire Paku some reinforcements.”
“If word gets out about this, Buddy, fifty Pakus won’t be enough to save your skin. Hell, we might even kill you ourselves if you talk.”
“Who are you?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Well, I’m definitely not going to talk.” He looked at her. “Would you really do that?”
“Good,” she said, ignoring his last question. “If all your people are in the dark, and you can keep your mouth shut, you may just come through this alive.”
Buddy stayed quiet while he considered her words.
A little later, she added, almost sweetly, “I’m not going to be wife number four and I’m not going to be your girlfriend, however, I will try to help you stay alive.”
“Well, I’ll do my part. I suppose that’s a good start.”
He paced a little more and then he turned to her, “I guess I’m okay with your plan, but I wonder, if we’re Americans, and we can allow this terrible thing to go on, what are the bad guys doing?”
CHAPTER 33
Before he left Hong Kong, Franco tried to call Pauling five more times on the emergency number. Each of the calls went to voice mail and Pauling did not return any of them. By the time he reached the cruise ship, Franco had resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to speak with the old man and he tried to stop thinking about him.
On the cruise ship, it took no time for Franco to adjust his routine. He found the five-star pampering the perfect distraction from his recent revelations. In his first two days on board, he sampled all the restaurants and bars the medium-sized ship had to offer. By his observation of the other passengers, he was the only single man, not counting the two gay couples. There were a good number of single women, although only one or two within a decade of his age and they didn’t seem at all interested in him. That was fine, since he was not looking for romance, only for decompression.
Franco could still not fully believe the events of the last week. He thought he knew Pauling well, and he could never imagine him orchestrating a threat as large as the one the Admiral seemed to have unleashed on the Chinese people. Franco considered himself to be a faithful sailor who had always relied on the chain of command. While the
re were times he questioned it, he had never disobeyed it. It had served him well. But this was all too overwhelming.
One of the activities he most enjoyed on ship was spending time in the passengers’ computer room. Not wanting to compete with his fellow travelers for an unoccupied terminal, he made it the first stop of the day, before his workout, breakfast, or sun up. He was particularly interested in Hong Kong news and scanned two online English language Hong Kong papers.
He had a clear idea of what he was looking for in their local news. On Monday, he scanned the Hong Kong city section of both publications. The story that caught his eye in the tabloid paper was barely mentioned in the traditional broadsheet publication. The story was about a distraught businessman, living in a luxury Hong Kong high-rise building, who leapt to his death after receiving notification that his younger brother and business partner died by a drug overdose. The businessman left behind a suicide note, but there was no known next of kin, although authorities were still looking. The most exciting part of the story was that the jumper demolished a new Rolls Royce parked on the street below the jumper’s apartment.
The paper claimed they had a reporter who had read the suicide note. By the reporter’s account, it was a heart-breaking note detailing the older brother’s failure in taming the destructive behaviors of his wild younger brother. The note described the jumper’s shame for both his brother’s end and for being unable to help him. Of equal importance to the story was that the destroyed car was owned by a high-ranking member of the Myanmar junta. However, the owner of the Rolls was not yet available for comment.
The Rice Thieves Page 24
