“What I’m interested in are fighters,” he told her finally. “Sukhoi Su-27s.”
“A very good airplane,” she said. “The newer models especially. We have upgraded the avionics to a point where they rival the F-15s.”
“The ones I’m interested in are older,” said Mack. “They’re used”
She made a show of confusion. “We can always find inexpensive alternatives,” said Ivana. “But I was under the impression that the sultan wanted frontline equipment.”
“I’m talking about two aircraft that Malaysia’s operating on Borneo.”
“Malaysia?”
He had to admit, she was good. Mack had no idea if she was bluffing or truly ignorant.
“Malaysia or Indonesia,” said Mack.
“Neither country has purchased new Sukhois from Russia,” said Ivana.
“What about used?”
“I don’t believe so, darling.”
“So, you don’t know anything about them?”
“Quite honestly, no. Sukhois to Indonesia? They haven’t the funds.”
“My theory is Malaysia,” said Mack.
“Well, perhaps they purchased some surplus weapons from another country. Have you considered the Ukraine?”
“I’ve considered many things,” said Mack, bluffing himself.
“Well, I might be able to make inquiries for you, if you are truly interested,” said Ivana. “But in the meantime it occurs to me — this is a threat you must meet.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“Even the older model of the Su-27 is formidable, especially against your Dragonflies. Now, a dozen Su-30MKIs, with full support, associated weapons.. “ She let the sentence drift out of her mouth as if she were reading the bullet line from the front cover of a sales brochure. “And you know, there is a side-byside attack version being planned, better than your F-15E.”
“How much money are we talking?” said Mack.
Ivana pouted. “We do not discuss numbers at lunch,” she told him. “Drink your champagne. How is Miss McKenna?”
“She’s fine. Sends her regards”
lvana smiled. “You are not a very good liar, Minister Smith. Truth suits you better. Miss McKenna and I had an unfortunate misunderstanding over money. A commitment was not fulfilled at the proper time and — but these things happen. I would gladly take her back”
“Yeah, well, she works for me now,” said Mack. “You don’t know anything about those Su-27s?”
She patted his hand indulgently. “I’ll find out for you. I have done good business with the sultan’s navy. There’s no reason we can’t be friends and do business together.”
“We might be friends,” said Mack, “if I knew how Malaysia got those Sukhois.”
“I will find out,” she said. “Come. You haven’t even ordered your lunch yet. Here is our waiter.”
As Mack looked up, something on the other side of the room caught his eye. He turned toward it and saw a short, thin young man entering the room, clearly out of place. He had a black garbage bag with him.
“Death to the sultan!” yelled the kid. The bag started to fall away. As it did, Mack saw that there was a gun behind it, a small weapon barely bigger than a pistol.
“Down!” yelled Mack. He threw over the table, knocking Ivana to the ground. The tart pop of the submachine gun echoed over the screams of the people.
Mack reached beneath his jacket and pulled out his Beretta. The kid turned the weapon toward his side of the room. Mack rose and fired, both hands on the pistol. The first two bullets caught the kid in the stomach and chest, pushing him backward. The machine-pistol he had been firing fell to the ground; the young man seemed to crumple against the wall.
Someone tried to push Mack down.
“Leave me the hell alone, damn it,” Mack yelled at him. He took a step forward, then saw that the terrorist was still writhing on the floor.
He fired two more shots into the man’s body, then realized belatedly that the terrorist had been wearing a vest of explosives. By now others were reacting, bodyguards springing forward belatedly, guests cowering on the floor. The person who had been trying to push Mack down was his driver and bodyguard; Mack turned and saw his face had blanched white with shock. Two policemen came in from the front door; another came up behind them.
Ivana lay face up on the floor. One of the madman’s bullets had caught her in the side of the head.
“What the hell is going on in this damn country?” said Mack, holstering his pistol. “This is supposed to be paradise, for christsake.”
III
WORLD GONE MAD
Chapter 23
When he first read the alert on the morning briefing, Jed couldn’t believe it. According to the Associated Press, a lone gunman had shot up a restaurant in the capital of Brunei. Two people had been killed and several more injured, but the casualty list could have been considerably longer if a lucky shot had not severed the wire on the man’s explosive vest.
Terrorists in Brunei? It seemed inconceivable.
It was incredibly inconvenient, since the president was due to announce the sale of three Megafortresses to the kingdom today. Dreamland had already been ordered to have the aircraft ready for delivery within two weeks.
Jed glanced at his watch. It was a bit early to call his boss, but he knew he’d better get some bulletins out on this right away.
Chapter 24
Breanna listened as Mack recounted the incident in the restaurant, and the oddly detached reaction of the government officials afterward.
“So they think he’s just a nutcase?” she said, finally.
“They don’t want to deal with reality,” said Mack. “That kid had a Romanian submachine gun. That’s pretty rare in Brunei.”
“You think he’s tied in with what happened to Zen and me on the beach?”
“Has to be:’ said Mack. “I think there’s a whole network of extremists running around. But as soon as I ask any serious questions, all I get are dumb-ass smiles from my fellow defense ministers.” He said the title as if it were a slur.
“Maybe it’s time for you to get out.”
Mack frowned but said nothing.
“You want me to hang around for a few days longer?” she asked.
Mack shrugged. “Nah. My guys are probably about as up to speed as they’re going to get.”
“Don’t be too hard on them, Mack. They’re not terrible pilots. They just need more flight time. Same with the equipment ops. Deci’ll work with them for a few more days. They’ll get it together.”
“Yeah. The whole country is not very serious about the military here. That’s the problem,” said Mack.
“Well you’re turning it around.” She meant the compliment; Mack was working hard at straightening out the air force — surely harder than she would have thought. “McKenna’s working at it, too.”
“She’s good,” said Mack. “Maybe I ought to send over to Canada for more contract pilots.” He got up. “Listen, Bree, I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“Don’t mention it,” she told him.
“I’d buy you a drink but I have a pile of things to go through.”
“It’s all right. I have to get up early tomorrow for my flight. It leaves at 4 A.M. If I miss it, I’ll be here until Tuesday”
“You stopping over in Japan?”
She shook her head. “I was thinking of it, but I want to get home”