Point of Contact

39

The next morning Jack and Paul arrived at the security desk on the first floor and were handed a note asking them to head straight for Yong’s office.

Yong was seated behind his computer when Jack knocked on the door frame. Yong motioned them toward the two open chairs in front of his desk.

“You wanted to see us?” Jack asked.

“I heard about last night. Quite disconcerting.”

“For us or for you?”

“Both, of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

Yong shook his head. “Your bad manners haven’t improved, have they? But that brings me precisely to my point. I have found your work and your presence both disruptive and ineffective to my company.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I don’t ‘feel’ that way. This is not a matter of feelings. It’s business. And I’m simply stating a fact.”

“The fact is you really don’t want us here, do you?”

“Have I shown you any discourtesy?”

“That’s not answering my question.”

“My father wishes you to be here, so I wish you to be here.”

“But if your father wasn’t the CEO? If you were? What would you prefer?”

Yong leaned back in his chair. “To be perfectly frank, I’m not sure what advantage there is to partnering with an American company at this time.”

“A massive cash infusion, operating synergies, global brand, and marketing reach. Those don’t sound too disadvantageous.”

“All short-term stimulants. In the long run, America is in decline, and America’s role in Asia is diminishing each day.”

“While China’s is on the rise,” Paul said.

“Unquestionably. But I wouldn’t seek a merger with a Chinese firm, either. Both of your countries are going the way of the dodo bird. You’re both too large, too socialist, too complex, and too corrupt. The future belongs to small nation-states like Singapore, led by enlightened visionaries like Lee Kuan Yew.”

Or Yong Fairchild, Jack thought.

“Only nine percent of Americans trust their Congress, but seventy-four percent of Singaporeans trust their government. And if Americans don’t trust their own government, why should anybody else?”

Yong hit a sore point with Jack. His father was working hard to restore America’s trust in its government by being honest with the American people and always trying to do what was best for the country, even at his own political expense. He’d read in a political science course at Georgetown that in 1964, seventy-seven percent of Americans believed that the federal government could be trusted to do the right thing most of the time. America’s political class had squandered that great legacy. It was going to take decades to restore it.

“I wonder why your father is so keen on the merger, then,” Jack asked.

“He’s old school, raised on his father’s white British knee, hearing stories of the heroic resistance against the cruel yellow invaders from Nippon.”

“You’re saying your father is a racist? He’s half Asian himself.”

“My father is an Anglophile, and pro-Western to the core. That doesn’t make him a racist. It just means he isn’t a realist, despite his great wisdom in so many other areas.”

“We appreciate your candor. Perhaps we need to make this known to the Marin Aerospace board. They may think twice about a merger with a company with a hostile future CEO.”

“If you report any such thing, I’ll deny it and I’ll sue you over it. What I’ve shared are merely private thoughts. I adamantly support the merger and anything else my father wishes. Am I perfectly clear?”

“Yes.”

“If anything, I should call Senator Rhodes myself and tell him how the two of you have completely overstepped yourselves and killed the deal.”

That won’t be good for Gerry or Hendley Associates, Jack thought. As much as Yong obviously didn’t want the merger, a lot of other folks did. Jack knew he needed to back down rather than give Yong the excuse he needed to kill the deal. Suddenly, the politics of this white-side assignment seemed more difficult than dodging bullets in the North Sea, and nearly as hazardous to his career.

“I apologize if I’ve said or done anything to offend you. I’m just trying to do my job.”

Paul nodded his agreement. “We’re just doing a quick, standard fraud audit, and we’re trying to keep as low a profile as possible.”

“So then what was all this nonsense with the police last night?”

“We have no idea. It was bizarre, to say the least. Good thing your sister showed up just in the nick of time.”

Yong cocked his head. “What are you implying?”

Jack wasn’t implying anything. It seemed pretty damned obvious. Was he supposed to believe the phony police raid was pure coincidence? “Nothing at all. Thanks to her intervention, your country avoided an embarrassing diplomatic incident with my country on the eve of a historic summit.”

“My sister is a remarkable woman and fiercely loyal to her family. But she’s also no fool.” Yong grinned. “As amusing as it would have been to see the two of you caned publicly, it would be wrong. She knows you and Mr. Brown aren’t drug smugglers.”

“Good to know, because whoever was stupid enough to pull that idiotic stunt last night isn’t bright enough to understand that it won’t discourage us from doing our jobs while we’re here.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And we are genuinely grateful that she got us out of that jam.”

“I’m glad to hear that as well. She seemed quite upset when I spoke with her last night. She is a proud woman. I can hardly believe she came to apologize to you.”

Technically, she didn’t, Jack reminded himself. “She surprised me for sure.”

“My sister had made special plans for the two of you this morning, but she assumed you wouldn’t want to participate after the way you treated her last night.”

“I was caught off guard last night. After it was over, I told her I was an idiot.” Jack wanted to add, But I was an idiot only if I was wrong about her, and I’m pretty sure I’m not. But he thought better of it. “We’re more than happy to hang out with her this morning — I just have an appointment with Dr. Heng later this afternoon.”

“I’m sure you can keep it, and my sister will be delighted.”

Paul shifted, anxious. He whispered in Jack’s ear, “I’ve got work to do.”

Jack ignored him. “We couldn’t be more excited.”

Yong stood and extended his hand. “I’m glad we had this little chat today, gentlemen. It’s always good to clear the air.”

Jack shook his hand. “Just a few more days, Mr. Fairchild, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Hopefully an uneventful few days. If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot on my plate this morning,” Yong said with a dismissive wave.

Jack and Paul left, looking for Lian. Jack was beginning to think that Paul was right all along — maybe they should just sign off on the damn paper and get out. It seemed now like they were only spinning their wheels.

Chairman Choi Ha-guk’s wide desk was empty except for an ashtray. Unlike his predecessor’s, the chairman’s office was spartan. Its only adornments were a plain couch, two chairs, industrial carpet, and bookshelves neatly stacked with technical books in three languages. He sat stiffly in his low-backed chair in a cloud of smoke across from Deputy Ri, the head of the General Services Administrative Directorate.

“Why hasn’t it happened yet?” A Gitanes cherry-tipped in the chairman’s yellowed fingers as he took another drag.

“I have every confidence in the Bulgarian. He’s proven himself utterly reliable in the past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“There are unanticipated security measures to be overcome. But he assures me they will be overcome.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“We’re running out of time.” Chairman Choi stabbed his butt out in the crowded ashtray. “You’re running out of time.”

“But there is still time, and the software my department has written is flawless.”

The chairman opened a desk drawer and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes. He slid his thumbnail beneath the cellophane wrapper, thinking. “I’m giving you direct command of any foreign RGB units you may have need of.”

“Director Kang will object, and I—”

The chairman cut him short with a raised finger. “This operation takes precedence over all others. I will inform Director Kang myself.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The chairman offered the blue pack to Ri. “Cigarette?”

Ri hid his surprise. He nodded and took one. “Thank you.”

The chairman slid his Zippo lighter across the desk. Ri lit up. They smoked in silence for a few moments, until a curt nod from the chairman ended the meeting.