cc.goldenbuddha-第19节

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　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　closed　the　folder。　Sometime　tonight；　they　would　have　the　Buddha　and　begin　the　process　of　transferring　it　back　to　the　Dalai　Lama。　A　few　more　days　and　the　Corporation　would　be　cashiered；　out　of　the　loop　and　sailing　away　to　another　part　of　the　globe。　
　
　WINSTON　SPENSER　GULPED　Glenmorangie　whiskey　like　it　was　ginger　ale。　
　Spenser's　brilliant　plan　of　deceit　had　hit　a　speed　bump　that　had　ripped　off　the　oil　pan；　and　now　it　was　leaking　its　fluid　onto　the　ground。　Ho　had　called　earlier　in　the　evening　and　his　words　had　been　an　ice　pick　to　the　brain。　
　〃Please　e　to　the　party　early；〃　Ho　had　said。　〃I'd　like　you　to　be　here　when　the　insurance　man　examines　the　Buddha。〃　
　One　day　more　and　Spenser　would　have　been　long　gone。　
　Uruguay；　Paraguay；　one　of　the　South　Pacific　islands；　anywhere　but　here。　The　fake　Buddha　was　goodhe'd　paid　a　princely　ransom　to　ensure　it　could　withstand　scrutinybut　if　the　insurance　inspector　was　top　notch；　he'd　see　through　the　ruse。　The　gold　itself　would　probably　pass　muster。　The　problem　was　the　precious　stones。　If　the　inspector　was　any　sort　of　gemologist；　he'd　realize　the　stones　were　just　too　perfect。　Massive　rocks　of　the　size　that　adorned　the　Golden　Buddha　were　extremely　rare。　The　existing　stones　that　large　almost　always　had　flaws。　
　Only　stones　produced　in　a　laboratory　were　lacking　inclusions。　
　He　drained　the　scotch　and　walked　over　to　the　bed　and　lay　down。　
　But　the　bed　was　spinning　and　sleep　was　hard　to　e　by。　
　
　SINCE　HIS　EXILE　from　Tibet；　it　would　be　easy　to　imagine　that　the　Dalai　Lama　had　lived　in　a　vacuum　concerning　events　inside　his　country。　Nothing　could　be　further　from　the　truth。　Almost　from　the　time　he'd　stepped　across　the　border；　an　ad　hoc　system　of　local　intelligence　had　begun　filtering　south　to　his　headquarters　in　Little　Lhasa。　
　Messages　were　passed　from　mouth　to　mouth　by　a　series　of　runners　who　breached　the　mountain　passes　far　from　Chinese　scrutiny；　then　delivered　their　messages　either　in　person　or　through　intermediaries。　With　hundreds　of　thousands　of　Tibetans　loyal　to　the　Dalai　Lama；　the　tentacles　of　the　operation　reached　into　every　part　of　the　country。　Chinese　troop　movements　were　reported；　intercepted　cables　sent　south；　overheard　telephone　conversations　disclosed。　
　Snow　tables　and　water　flow　from　the　rivers　and　other　environmental　concerns　were　memorized　and　transmitted。　Tourists　were　monitored　and　casually　engaged　in　conversation　to　glean　more　facts　about　the　Chinese　and　their　attitudes。　Merchants　that　sold　to　the　Chinese　soldiers　reported　on　sales　and　the　troops'　general　demeanor。　Times　of　alert　were　noted　and　sent　south；　as　were　times　when　controls　over　the　population　were　loosened。　Briefings　were　held　for　the　Dalai　Lama　and　his　advisors；　and　most　of　the　time　the　exiles　in　India　had　a　better　picture　of　the　conditions　in　Tibet　than　the　hated　Chinese　overlords。　
　〃The　troops　seem　to　be　buying　more　trinkets？〃　the　Dalai　Lama　asked。　
　〃Yes；〃　one　of　his　advisors　noted；　〃things　that　are　uniquely　Tibetan。〃　
　〃When　has　this　ever　happened　before？〃　the　Dalai　Lama　asked。　
　〃Never；〃　the