cc.goldenbuddha-第21部分
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Cabrillo on the keyboards came off as Liberace on methamphetamines。 Kasim moved like Buddy Rich in a neck brace。 Lincoln was slightly betterhe kept his eyes closed and strummed the bass guitar and managed to tap his foot in time; the problem was that his hands were so large it looked like he was not moving his fingers。 Nixon waited until the song was finished。
〃It's not bad;〃 he admitted; 〃but I have some videotapes of live bands and I suggest you men watch them so you can work on your choreography。〃
Three hours later; the band was as ready as they would ever be。
THIS WAS THE part of her job Iselda loved bestthe last…minute nagging details。
She reached in her handbag and found a pack of thin brown cheroots。 Unlike most smokers who stuck to a single brand; Iselda stocked her bag with three or four different kinds。 She selected her poison depending on many factors。 The aching in her lungs; the rawness of her throat; the amount of nicotine needed for the job。 Menthols for that minty fresh buzz; thin cigars when she needed a boost; long; thin; brightly tipped tools when she needed to punctuate a conversation by
using the burning sticks like a maestro's baton。 She fired up the cheroot and took a drag。
〃I specifically requested glacier ice for the cocktails;〃 she screamed at the caterer; 〃not the round highball cubes。〃
〃You asked for both;〃 the caterer said; 〃but the glacier ice has yet to arrive。〃
〃You'll have it here?〃 she asked。
〃It's in the warehouse; Iselda;〃 the man said patiently。 〃We didn't want it to melt。〃
Iselda stared across the tent to where a worker was adjusting the devices that made clouds of smoke from dry ice。
〃We need more smoke than that;〃 she shouted; then quickly walked across to the row of machines and began to berate the worker。
After a few minutes of adjustment; the man flipped the machine on again。 Clouds of dense; cold gas billowed from the machine; then began to settle on the floor。
〃Good; good;〃 Iselda said。 〃Now make sure we have plenty of dry ice。〃
A technician was adjusting the light display and she raced in that direction。
ON BOARD THE Oregon; the technician monitoring conversations in the mansion made a note on the yellow pad; then reached for the shipboard munication microphone。
〃Chairman Cabrillo;〃 he said; 〃I think you need to e up here。〃
THE LIMOUSINE SLOWED outside the gate leading to the runway at the San Jose; California; airport。 A guard with a bolstered weapon stood blocking the way。 The driver rolled down his window。
〃New security regulations;〃 he said。 〃There's no more driving onto the tarmac。〃
The software billionaire had rolled down his window as well。 This was an unwele inconvenience。 Intolerable; in fact。
〃Wait a minute; now;〃 he shouted from the rear。 〃We've driven out to my plane for years。〃
〃Not anymore;〃 the guard noted。
〃Do you know who I am?〃 the billionaire said pompously。 〃No idea;〃 the guard admitted; 〃but I do know who I amI'm the guy that's ordering you to turn away from the gate now。〃
With nothing else to say; the limousine driver backed up and steered toward the terminal; then parked in front and waited for his employer to climb out。 The encounter put his boss in a foul mood and he could hear him muttering as he carried the bags a safe distance behind。
〃Good God;〃 the billionaire said; 〃for what I pay for hangar space; you'd think I'd get some service。〃
As they approached the door leading out to the taxiway; a smattering of expensive jets sat awaiting their owners。 There were a trio of Gulfstreams; a Citation or two; a half dozen King Airs; and a single burgundy behemoth that looked like it belonged to a regional airline。 The software billionaire was big on appearances。 If the rich had private jetshe wanted a large one。 An airplane that | screamed success and excess like a dog collar made from diamonds。 The billionaire's choice was a Boeing 737。 The aircraft was fitted with a l single…lane bowling alley; a hot tub and a bedroom bigger than many homes。 It was fitted with a large…screen television; advance munications equipment; and a chef trained at the Cordon Bleu。 The pair of dancers he had ordered from the service were already aboard。 The entertainment for his flight was a California blonde and a redhead who bore a striking resemblance to a young Ann…Margret。
The billionaire wanted some way to pass the time on the long flight。 He burst through the door leading outside without waiting for his driver with the luggage; then made his way over to the 737。 Then he walked up the ramp and inside。
〃Ladies;〃 he shouted; 〃front and center。〃 Thirteen minutes later; they were airborne。
INSIDE THE OREGON; the technician was entering mands in the puter when Cabrillo opened the door and walked inside。
〃What have you got?〃 he said without preamble。
〃Ho just had a telephone conversation with an insurance adjuster who is ing out to the mansion to inspect the Buddha。〃
〃Damn;〃 Cabrillo said; reaching for the microphone。 〃Max; you better get up to munications; we've got a problem。〃
While the technician continued to trace the source of the call; Cabrillo paced the control room。
Hanley arrived a few minutes later。 〃What is it; Juan?〃 '
〃Ho has an insurance adjuster ing out to inspect the Golden Buddha。〃
〃When?〃 Hanley asked。
〃Four p。m。〃
The technician hit a button and a printer spit out a sheet。
〃Here's the location of the call; boss;〃 he said。 〃I have it overlaid on a map of Macau。〃
〃We need to e up with a plan;〃 Cabrillo said; 〃posthaste。〃
WINSTON SPENSER WAS juggling chain saws。 Only his long stint as a customer of the bank had earned him an increase on his business line of credit; but the manager had made it clear he wanted the balance paid down in no less than seventy…two hours。 His credit cards were at their limits; and calls had already e into his office in London; inquiring about the situation。 For all intents and purposes; Spenser was; at this instant; in dire financial straits。 As soon as the deal with the billionaire went down; he would be as flush as he had ever dreamedright now; however; he could not afford an airplane ticket home。
All he had to do tomorrow was remove the Buddha; transfer it to the airport and receive his ill…gotten gain。 Then he'd charter a jet and fly off into the sunset with his fortune。 By the time his customer in Macau realized he'd been duped; he'd be long gone。
JUAN CABRILLO SAT at the table in his stateroom and studied the folder for the third time。
In nine minutes; the hands of the clock would pass twelve and it would officially be Good Friday。 Game day。 There was always a fair amount of luck bined with flexibility when the Corporation launched an operation。 The key was to minimize surprises through rigorous planning; and always have a backup plan in place。 At this; the Corporation excelled。
The only problem was the object itself。 The Golden Buddha was not a microchip that could be slipped into a pocket or sewn into clothing。 It was a heavy object the size of a man that required effort to move and stealth to conceal。 Any way you cut the cake; the movement of the icon would require men and machines to transport it to a safe place。
The mere size and weight of the Golden Buddha made that a condition。
Then there were the players themselves。 The art dealer; Ho; the people at the party; the Chinese authorities; and now the insurance appraiser。 Any one of them could throw a wrench into the works; and the stakes and timing were such that retreating and regrouping was not an option。
Cabrillo hated operations where a clear path of retreat was not available。
People could be captured; injured or killed when the plan was to execute the operation at all costs。 The last time the Corporation had …' sustained losses was the operation in Hong Kong; where Cabrillo had | lost his leg and others had been killed。 Since then; he had consciously | avoided ultra…high…risk assignments。 The Golden Buddha assignment i had started out fitting the lower…risk profile; but it was being more and more dangerous as time passed。
Just pregame jitters; Cabrillo thought as he c