Golden Buddha Part 27

"Come on in out of the rain, Michael," King heard the billionaire say.

Hanley pa.s.sed Gunderson in the aisle as he followed the billionaire.

He touched the middle finger of his left hand to his eyebrow, as if to wipe away a droplet. Gunderson brushed his chin in reply.

"Have a seat," the billionaire said as they reached a conference table in a compartment in the front section of the 737.

Hanley slid into a seat and stared at the man.

"I couldn't tell you what was happening over the telephone," the billionaire said. "But the Buddha that you bid on for me has come up for sale once again."

"That's quick," Hanley said.

The billionaire nodded but offered nothing more. "Your voice sounds rough. Can I offer you something?"

"The rain and the air on the commercial flights I've been taking,"

Hanley said. "I think I'm coming down with something."

The billionaire pushed a b.u.t.ton and Gunderson appeared.

"Could you bring Mr. Talbot some tea with lemon and honey?"

"And for you, sir?"

"I'll have a snifter of warmed Ouzo, please."

"Right away, sir," Gunderson said.

On the roof of the hangar, King heard the exchange. "They are ordering drinks, sir."

"Open the door, Monica," Cabrillo ordered.

Crabtree hit a b.u.t.ton and raised the hangar door far enough for the SUV to exit.

"Time to go, men," Cabrillo shouted to Adams and Spenser.

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Adams placed the Chevrolet in gear and drove slowly to the door.

Then he exited the hangar into the pouring rain.

Gunderson returned with the drinks to find the billionaire staring silently at Hanley. "The pilot asked me to tell you that a truck is approaching,"

said Gunderson.

The billionaire turned from Hanley and stared out the window. A I white Chevrolet SUV pulled near the ramp, and a man he didn't recognize climbed from the driver's seat and walked to the rear. Once there, he removed a folded, portable, aluminum-legged awning from the rear and erected it. Then the billionaire watched as Spenser climbed from the pa.s.senger seat.

"Come on," the billionaire said to Hanley. "Our prize has arrived."

At the same time Hanley and the billionaire were walking toward the ramp, Adams pulled the crate containing the Buddha forward and opened the top. Then he walked back to the driver's seat and climbed inside out of the rain.

The billionaire appeared at the top of the stairs and Spenser, under the awning, motioned for him to descend. The two men walked down the ramp.

"Let's do this out of the rain," the billionaire said when he reached the tarmac. "Inside my plane."

Spenser shook his head in the negative. "I don't know you, and you don't know me," he said, "so until I receive payment and you take delivery, the Golden Buddha remains on the ground."

The billionaire turned to Hanley. "Is this the dealer that made the winning bid?"

"Yes," Hanley said.

"You're Mike Talbot," Spenser said.

"Michael," Hanley corrected.

"Did you bring cash like we agreed?" Spenser asked.

"Bearer bonds," the billionaire answered. "If everything checks out."

Hanley stood quietly, with the gusts of wind blowing sprinkles of rain onto his mask.

"Check it out," the billionaire said to Hanley.

Hanley walked over and examined the Buddha in detail, then reached down and shaved a small sample of gold from the foot. "Did you bring the other sample?" he asked the billionaire, who reached into his pocket and removed an envelope.

Hanley removed an eyepiece from his pocket and pretended to study the sample for a few minutes. "They match," he said at last.

"I'll retrieve the payment," the billionaire said.

At exactly the same time, Chuck Gunderson was placing the last strip of duct tape over the mouth of the copilot. Binding the men's wrists with plastic ties, he laid the pilot and copilot together on the floor of the c.o.c.kpit.

"Target's heading up the stairs," King radioed Cabrillo.

"Make the call," Cabrillo said to Nixon.

Inside the 737, Gunderson turned to the brunette flight attendant.

"Do me a favor," he said, "close that cabin door."

As the billionaire climbed the stairs in the rain, he could not hear the footsteps as Adams, Spenser and Hanley sprinted through the puddles to the rear of the hangar. His mind was on the Golden Buddha and retrieving the briefcase that held the key to owning the icon. He was halfway up the ramp when the door to his jet started to close. Just as he reached the top step, the hatch was locked in place. Banging on the door, the billionaire began screaming at the top of his lungs.

ACROSS TOWN, LING Po was just about to enter the manhole when his cell phone rang.

"Things have gotten too hot for us," an unknown voice said to Po.

"You win, Detective. There is a white Chevrolet Tahoe on the runway at Macau airport. It has the Buddha that was stolen from the party.

Goodbye."

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The telephone went dead in Po's ear. For a moment, he stared at it in amazement--then he quickly dialed Sung Rhee.

"I just had a call from the thieves," Po said rapidly. "They claim the Buddha is in a white Chevrolet truck on the runway at Macau airport."

HANLEY, SPENSER, AND Adams ran to the rear of the hangar to where a limousine was sitting with the engine running. Monica Crabtree was behind the wheel. Once the trio of men was safely in the rear compartment, she placed the limousine in gear and raced toward the gate.

"Okay, Kevin," Cabrillo said.

Using a remotely operated device he had installed a few hours earlier, Nixon began to back the ramp away from the 737. As soon as the ramp lurched backward, the billionaire knew he had been had--he swiveled around at the top of the ramp and glanced down. The truck was there, but no one was visible.

Larry King watched the 737 through the nightscope. Less than a minute later, he watched as Gunderson slid into the pilot seat, then motioned he was ready. King flashed a red laser on his rifle sight at the pilot's window of the 737, and, at the signal, Gunderson fired the engines on the jet. The ramp was retracting faster and faster, and Nixon steered it to the side. Once it was safely clear of the jet, he let his joystick go neutral and the ramp began to roll to a stop. Tossing the controller into a box, he did a final visual sweep of the hangar with Cabrillo. He and Crabtree had packed everything else into the trunk of the limousine in the half hour before Spenser had made his approach. All that remained was for Nixon and Cabrillo to hightail it off airport property.

Once the ramp was free of the 737 and a safe distance away, King signaled again with the laser and Gunderson began to advance the throttles.

Cabrillo and Nixon were walking quickly for the rear door when King radioed.

"Chuck's started his taxi," King said.

The ramp had finally slowed enough for the billionaire to leap off.

He ran down the tarmac after his retreating 737. A few seconds of that and he knew the situation was hopeless, so he raced toward the Chevrolet.

Once he reached the vehicle, he was surprised to find the Buddha still aboard. Pus.h.i.+ng over the aluminum awning, he slammed the rear door closed, then climbed into the driver's seat. Another break, the keys were still in the ignition. His $100 million in bonds were lost--but the Buddha was worth twice that. Now his plan was to escape with the Golden Buddha and worry later about who had stolen his jet. He started the truck and placed it in gear.

On board the 737, the brunette flight attendant was guarding the c.o.c.kpit door. No one had told her to do this, she had just thought it prudent. One of the bimbos walked forward and started for the c.o.c.kpit door.

"Get back," the brunette said.

"I need to talk to the pilot," the blonde said.

She started for the door again, and the brunette threw a punch that never landed. The blonde deflected the blow, then struck the brunette in the breadbasket with a chop.

"Chucky," the blonde shouted over the noise of the engines, "will you tell this b.i.t.c.h you need me up there?"

The brunette was bent over, trying to catch her breath, when the c.o.c.kpit door was flung open. Through the open door, the brunette could see the 737 taxiing faster toward the runway for takeoff. Gunderson was sitting in the pilot's seat. He turned and smiled.

"That's okay, honey," Gunderson said quickly. "She's my copilot."

The Macau taxi was sitting to the rear of the hangar, the purring engine making puffs of smoke in the rain-soaked air. Cabrillo and Nixon climbed into the rear just as King radioed again. "Okay, boss,"

he said easily, "he went for the truck."

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"Come out front."

of the nest," Cabrillo said, "and we'll meet you around King began to extract himself from inside the air intake at the same JVlHg ucg,an i-v. ~^ time the billionaire had the Chevrolet up to speed on the road leading from the hangars to the main terminal.

INSIDE THE BURGUNDY 737, Gunderson scanned the storm scope and answered a call from the control tower. Then he hit the switch to allow him to talk over the cabin speakers. "Ladies, if you could take a seat, I'd appreciate it--we'll be taking off in a second. Also, after we 1 get in the air, if one of you could bring a pot of coffee and some sand-'.. wiches to the c.o.c.kpit, you'd be our hero."

Then he turned to the blonde sitting next to him. "Hi, Judy, long time no see."

ALONG THE BRIDGE leading from Macau proper to the island where the airport was situated, twelve police cars with sirens screaming and lights flas.h.i.+ng formed a rolling barricade as they raced to the main terminal.

"There they go," Crabtree said as she drove in the opposite direction.

She watched in the rearview mirror as several cars left the bridge, then crossed the median and sealed off both lanes of traffic. "Just made it," Adams noted.

The driver steered the cab slowly around the front of the building, then waited as King slid down the drainpipe and climbed into the front seat. Then he turned his head and stared at Cabrillo.

"Take us to the far south end of the airport across from Coloane,"

Cabrillo said. "We have a boat to catch."

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ON BOARD THE 737, the final clearance was approved at the same time as the Chevrolet SUV pa.s.sed in front of the main airport terminal. In the distance, the billionaire could see a line of police cars blocking the road. Turning his head, he could see through the rain the flas.h.i.+ng lights on the wings and fuselage of his burgundy 737 as it lifted from the runway and headed out over the bay.

"Destination?" Judy asked.

"Singapore," Gunderson answered. "Now tell me--how was it for you and Tracy?"

"We took a couple for the team," Judy said. "Then he got tired."

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THE FULL FURY of the storm descended on Macau only a few minutes after Gunderson and the 737 cut a wide arc out over the South China Sea to head south. Inside the storm sewer, the waters were rising faster now, and the rafts holding the Golden Buddha and his three liberators hurtled faster toward salvation or destruction.

Prior to reaching each junction, one of the men would climb off the raft and drag the rear rope to slow the raft with the Golden Buddha.

Then he would push the side of the raft toward the proper channel and let the current do the rest. The randomly s.p.a.ced overhead pipes that drained into the main sewer were running full now, and each time the rafts pa.s.sed under the spray some of the water made it into the floors of the rafts. The men were using their hats to bail out the buildup, but as each mile pa.s.sed the effort was becoming harder and harder.

Hornsby stared at the blueprint carefully. "We've pa.s.sed the halfway point," he said, "but if we make the same rate of progress and the water continues to rise at the current pace, by the time we reach the exit to the Inner Harbor the water will be almost at the top of the pipe."

"The Oregon will have sent help by now," Jones said, "and they will have a copy of the blueprints."

Meadows wiped some water from his forehead before speaking.

"That doesn't change the problems we face. It just places more people in harm's way."