Bill noticed that four other vehicles, SUV’s to
be precise, were pulling up and around the sheikh’s car. “Your body
guards won’t object?”
The man snorted, smiling. “They do what I tell
them to do. If they thought you were a threat, they would have
already killed you.”
Bill chuckled at that, not sure if the man was
joking or not. Nevertheless, he determined not to do anything that
might cause the bodyguards to react in a negative manner. He moved
to the other side of the car and jumped in beside the spoiled young
man. The car certainly lived up to its reputation. His job as a
lawyer had brought him into contact with many wealthy men and
women, and he had seen his share of expensive cars over the years,
but this one took the cake. He couldn’t believe how expensive
everything looked, and the v-12 engine purred like a lion.
A bodyguard jumped lightly into the backseat, an
action that Bill’s new young friend ignored. Bill ignored him
too.
Laughing suddenly, Fareed hit the gas pedal and
the car shot out into the street, leaving the more lumbering SUV’s
behind. He glanced over at Bill, who sat in astonishment. He had
never experienced such power in such a car before. “You like?
Yes?”
“Yes!”
Pleased that he had made an impression on the
American, Fareed broke every speed law and arrived at a large domed
building not too far away. The building looked to be a gigantic
coliseum of sorts…certainly large enough to hold any number of
aircraft and military vehicles. A dozen guards wearing
indeterminate military uniforms stood outside the main entrance,
carefully scrutinizing the various people who came in and out of
the building.
Leaving the bodyguard to deal with the car,
Fareed waved one of the soldiers away as he approached the pair.
“The American is with me. I will see that he causes no problems,”
he said in Arabic.
The soldier hesitated, and Bill guessed that the
guards had orders to make sure few Westerners got into the
building. He suspected that any Westerner actually inside was an
arms dealer, dealing in illegal weapons. But seeing who the
American was with, put a whole new light on things. The guard
nodded, saluted and returned to his post.
Bill and Fareed walked in unmolested.
Bill had no idea what to expect, but whatever he
expected, he was unprepared for the full scope of the exhibition.
It wasn’t that there were a lot of people milling about—there
wasn’t—but the people who were about all looked to be older. For
whatever reason, Bill had expected a younger group of people. He
realized belatedly that these were military commanders sent by
their respective governments to either oversee an exhibition or to
procure equipment beneficial to their militaristic endeavors.
Despite the obvious military bearing that most
everyone had as they walked sedately from exhibit to exhibit, there
were no markings to identify them—other than facial features and
language. Bill had no doubt that most, if not all, of the Arab
nations were represented. In addition, he thought he heard a
delegation that spoke Russian, and he noticed several Asian groups
walking about in tightly clustered packs.
The domed building could have easily been
converted into a sports arena—and Bill suspected that the original
purpose of the building had been used for just such a purpose.
However, all the seating had been removed, creating a huge floor
space to house the various exhibitions. In the large hallways that
surrounded the central exhibits, smaller exhibits had been set up
to allow potential buyers to try out various weapons or to watch
recorded demonstrations.
But it wasn’t the smaller ones that Bill was
interested in. His eyes were drawn to the center of the dome where
several military aircraft sat at rest, looking like nothing more
than birds of prey perched, but ready to explode into lethal action
at any moment. Fareed saw where his eyes were riveted.
“Ah, you are interested in the aircraft?”
“They look particularly magnificent,” Bill
agreed, hoping that his interest hadn’t given him away. “I’ve
always been fascinated by jets, from my childhood.”
“Come,” Fareed said. “Let us look.”
The pair of them, and a few obvious bodyguards,
wandered over to the aircraft. The first few were obvious Russian
designs, but the attention of the groups in that area were focused
solely on a sleek looking aircraft with a Chinese flag painted on
the fuselage. Bill guessed that around a hundred people were
congregated around the aircraft.
One voice rose above the others. The lawyer
couldn’t make it out, so he turned to his escort. “What is
happening here?”
Fareed listened and then turned to the American
with an expression of surprise. “They are bidding on the aircraft
right now. This is an experimental fighter plane, or so the Chinese
delegate is saying. They have only made this one and are willing to
sell it off to the highest bidder.”
“What’s so special about it?”
“I don’t know.” Fareed looked troubled. Bill
guessed that an open bid was rather unusual for an exhibition. A
large display screen was playing back footage of the aircraft in
action. Bill studied it and was impressed. The aircraft’s design
made it highly maneuverable and stealthy. More than that, the pilot
had superhuman reflexes. No human could fly a plane that good. It
was impossible. No, this had to be the integration of the top
secret technology that the Chinese had stolen from the US.
Hynes had explained that the core computer
component had an adaptability feature that let the computer learn
the style of the pilot. It learned what maneuvers were favored and
could anticipate their use and execute them quicker than human
reflexes could. It stored the data, and aided the pilot in
executing difficult if not impossible maneuvers. The net result was
an aircraft far more maneuverable and flown by a pilot-computer
combination that gave the pilot an unprecedented edge in
combat.
Indeed, the Chinese had found a way to adapt the
technology even if they couldn’t reproduce it. They were trying to
sell it, knowing that they could make a killing off of the sale,
whilst ridding themselves of a potentially volcanic political
situation at the same time.
Taking out a piece of gum, he offered it to
Fareed, who turned it down. He popped it into his own mouth and
chewed as he began edging forward to get a better look at the
aircraft. Fareed followed, also curious. The ex-marine managed to
get close enough to the ladder that led up to the cockpit. Two
Chinese guards stood there, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Can I take a look?” he asked in Arabic.
One of the guards looked ready to protest, but
Fareed intervened. “Of course you can take a look. This is my
country, and this is an exhibition.”
That prompted a Chinese man to detach himself
from the bidding and approach. “May I help you?” he asked in
accented English.
“I just want to look at her,” Bill said,
pointing to the cockpit.
The Chinese man frowned. “My name is Lee Wong.
Now that the bidding has begun, we are not allowing anyone else to
examine the aircraft.”
“I’m not trying to buy,” Bill countered. “I just
want to look. I’ve never seen anything like this.” He turned to
Fareed. “If this is what you are talking about regarding your
country, then I guess you’re right. But I don’t know…” he trailed
off, doubtfully.
Fareed immediately turned towards the Chinese
man. “I demand that you let my friend examine the plane. He will
not harm it and you are free to make sure he takes nothing up there
with him and that he only looks. But this is an exhibition, and
this is my country.”
Lee’s face bunched up in tightly controlled
anger. He opened his mouth to say something, but undoubtedly,
knowing who the young man was, kept him from spouting out any
foolishness. He snapped his mouth closed and tightened his lips. He
was a guest in Fareed’s country and to refuse the request would be
a very serious breech in manners.
“Very well,” he said at last. “He may examine
the cockpit.”
Bill started towards the staircase when a
shorter Chinese soldier stepped in front of him and gestured with
arms outstretched. “Hey,” he protested. “What’s this?”
“Surely you would not mind being checked for
instruments that might accidentally damage the sensitive equipment
on the aircraft, would you?”
I doubt it is all that sensitive,
Gardner
thought to himself. He chewed furiously on his gum, trying to look
indignant. Finally, he relented. “If you must. I didn’t ask to come
here.”
“True enough,” Fareed said, trying to placate
the irritated Chinese soldier. “I asked him to come.”
If that had any effect on Wong Lee, he masked it
well.
Gardner mimicked the soldier’s arms, holding
them away from his body as the man deftly searched him. He removed
the pack of gum, the gum wrapper and Bill’s wallet. He handed these
over to Wong Lee, who glanced through the wallet. “Mr. Bill
Gardner?” He glanced at Bill. “This says you are a lawyer.”
“Yep.”
“What brings you to this country?”
“What is this? An interrogation?” Fareed asked,
now growing angry himself.
Bill held up his hand. “It’s not an issue. I am
here on behalf of Wastend Inc. I have been asked to examine the
legalities of certain contract concerns in the region. My job is to
make sure everything remains above board.”
The lawyer held his breath. If the Chinese man
remained suspicious for any reason, he would refuse to allow Bill
up the staircase. In that event, the entire mission would be
jeopardized. He needed to get a look into that cockpit. Lee studied
the American for long moments, before finally nodding. “Please be
brief. As you can see the bidding is still underway and the
potential buyer may be irked to see someone lingering in his new
fighter jet.”
“Of course.” Bill mounted the steps, making a
show of being a bit clumsy and ignorant as to what he was doing. At
the top of the stairs, he glanced into the open cockpit. Naturally,
he didn’t see anything at all that resembled the missing US
technology. But he knew it would be there, somewhere deep and
protected. He bent over to examine some of the controls, but still
didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He turned and clamored
back down the steps before Lee resorted to hauling him back down
himself.
Chewing, he nodded to the Chinese man his
thanks. “You are most gracious and have done a superb job.”
Lee’s eyes narrowed even further if that was
possible. “You know something of military aircraft.”
“Hardly a thing. When I was a kid, I once owned
a picture book that showed all the US military jets.” His brow
furrowed in thought. “That would have been…25 years ago, I guess.”
He glanced back at the jet. “Things sure have changed since
then.”
Put at ease, the Chinese commander nodded and
handed Bill’s things back. “Yes. Now please be on your way. The
bidding is drawing to a close.”
Bill nodded and joined Fareed. Together they
wandered over to some of the other aircrafts. They spent the
remainder of the evening looking around. Bill was sure to allow
himself to be suitably impressed to put his companion’s ego at
ease.
At some point he took out another piece of gum
and slipped it into his mouth so he could chew on something besides
air. His last piece of gum was now safely attached to an out of the
way niche in the cockpit of the Chinese fighter plane. He had
allowed it to drop from his mouth while bending over the controls,
deftly catching it and hiding it away where it wouldn’t be easily
discovered. He had been assured that the isotope breakdown in the
gum would be harmless to him, but would emit a detectable amount of
a certain type of radiation that can be detected up to a half mile
away.
The US knew ahead of time that the plane would
be sold, but they had no idea who the buyer would be. They needed a
way to find it that normal detections would miss. To find the
plane, they would need to be within a half mile with a Geiger like
counter, but Hynes figured that was better than nothing.
Finally, Bill had enough. “Thank you Fareed for
this. I found it all quite impressive. I see what you mean. Your
country is very influential.”
“Indeed,” the Arab responded smugly, pleased.
“It was my pleasure. Do you wish a ride back to the hotel?”
Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to ride
in the Rolls-Royce Phantom again, he said. “You bet!”
Laughing, Fareed led them out of the military
exhibition. Well, things had gone according to plan. That was
something to be thankful for anyway.
Lee turned to one of his subordinate after he
watched the American and his young companion leave. “Find out
everything you know about this Bill Gardner. I don’t like the way
he looks.”
“That’s got to be one of the most common US
names out there,” the young intelligence officer and an expert on
the US protested.
“Granted. Here, maybe this will help.” He pulled
an American driver’s license out and handed it to the other
officer.
The man glanced at the New York driver’s license
and the picture of Bill Gardner and grinned. “Yes, this will help
out quite a bit. What do you want me to do with the information I
find out?”
“I want you to give it to me and flag the man’s
passport. If he every sets foot in China, I want to know about it
five minutes later.”
“Yes, sir!” Saluting, the earnest young man ran
off.
Lee turned back to regard the fighter plane.
Finding that bit of technology had indeed given him a promotion.
More than that, after the ‘accidental drowning’ of Chen, he had
replaced the intelligence officer in the field, accompanying the
aircraft that now housed the technology he had stolen from
Chen.