“So there are two copies in play,” Gavin said. “Okay. It’ll take some time to get the particulars, but I’m on it. A cursory search on his laptop shows dozens of communications between him and a business called Suparman Games. Specifically, the CEO, a guy named… get this, Suparman. A one-word name.”
“Like the man of steel?” Ryan asked.
“Not sure of the etymology,” Biery said. “But it turns out Suparman is just a regular name in Indonesia. Being a video game company, this particular Suparman plays up the comparison, though. He’s got offices in Manado. A real playboy. Drives race cars and jumps out of airplanes in his spare time. Seems like he fancies himself a pioneer in the Indonesian video game industry. A real innovator.”
“You found all this on his computer?” Clark said.
Biery scoffed. “No, I found most of it on social media. This Suparman guy posts more stuff than the Kardashians. Every other pic is of him in a sports car or airplane with some hot babe on his arm. Think of an Indonesian James Bond with Elton John glasses. I’m sending you all photos now, but like I said, all you really have to do is Google him. He’s the kind of dude who probably has statues of himself in his mansion.”
Ding pulled up the photo on his phone. “Geez,” he said, looking at the thick glasses that made Suparman’s eyes appear extra-large. “This guy must be blind as a bat.”
Clark had the photo open on his phone as well. “He seems like he might be the type to throw some cash at a fancy new AI program for his company.”
“He’s got the money,” Biery said. “Worth about half a billion, just counting the funds we know of. There are likely a shitload of unknown accounts tucked away around the world.”
“So,” Jack said. “Someone frames Noonan into giving up this Calliope program, but Ackerman and Noonan have already sold a copy of it to Suparman.”
“That’s about the size of it, Weed Hopper,” Ding said.
Clark leaned back in his seat, folding his hands across his belly. “We have to fuel up again in…” He looked toward the cockpit.
“L.A.,” Helen, the pilot in command, yelled back. “And then again in Honolulu.”
“L.A.,” Clark repeated. “See what you can find out in the next few hours, Gavin. We’ll fly to Manado to steal this guy’s prize. A man’s life — and who knows what else — depends on it.”
Chavez ended the call and the team settled in for the long haul, ready for some much-needed rest as the pilots brought the Gulfstream G550’s Rolls-Royce turbofan engines to life.
“So,” Midas said. “This is a turn-and-burn? We locate and retrieve the software, then get it back to be analyzed so we know what we’re up against with the Chicoms?”
“Right.” Ding shot a sideways glance at Clark. “Except we don’t bring it back. This little piece of tech is too important for that. The powers that be are sending a couple of Eagles over from the 44th Fighter Wing at Kadena. We turn Calliope over as soon as we get our grubby hands on it. They’ll jet it back to our scientists at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam, at a cool Mach 2.5, not counting a couple of slowdowns for aerial refueling. They’ll scoot along at sixty-five thousand feet and beat us back stateside by a factor of… I don’t know, a lot.”
“Manado airport can’t be very large,” Jack said. “Can an F-15 even put down there?”
Clark nodded. “I asked the same thing. The Eagles need eight thousand or so. Manado is eighty-nine hundred and change. Anyway, first things first. We haven’t got Calliope yet. Let’s focus on that.”
“I have a couple of questions,” Ding said. “Before you all conk out. Who wants to tell me about the ghosts everybody was talking about during the scenario training in Chinatown?”
“We were gaming you,” Adara said. “We wanted you wondering what we were seeing. I planned to stash a cloned tracker along the route so you would think I was stationary, then I’d slip around and capture the RAF Hereford mug when you called Dave and Lanny to come check out our ghosts.”
Chavez’s face flushed. “That might have actually worked.” He didn’t know whether to be angry or proud.
Clark held up a hand before he could speak.
“You trained them well, Ding. They win, you win.”
“Maybe,” Ding said. “But from my viewpoint, I still think it looks a hell of a lot like cheating.”
“And just how is that?” Adara asked. “We were supposed to follow the rabbits to the hide, cause a ruse to get them away from the location, and then bring you the mug. That is exactly what we planned to do.”
Chavez glared hard at her — and had a hell of a glare. “Whose idea was this?”
Adara groaned like a kid who was caught red-handed but didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. “Mine.”
“And the rest of you?” Chavez asked. “No one else gonna step up?”
Midas raised his hand. “I am Spartacus.”
The others spoke all at once, each taking their share of the blame.
Adara leaned back, pounding her head against her seat, staring up at the ceiling.
“No,” she said. “It was all me, Ding. Okay? Don’t get pissed at them, they were just following my lead—”
Chavez chuckled. “Then you get all the credit — which means I’m buyin’ you dinner at Smith and Wollensky next time we’re in New York.” A sudden thought occurred to him, and he looked up at Clark. “Were you in on this, Mr. C?”
“Nope,” Clark said. “Wish I had been, though.” His cell began to buzz and he sat up, fishing it out of his pocket. “Clark…” He closed his eyes, listening, nodding, giving a polite grunt now and then to let the caller know he was still on the line. After three minutes, he exhaled slowly through his mouth and said, “Thank you for letting me know… Yes. Me, too. I appreciate it.”
“Everything okay?” Ding asked.
“Good to go,” Clark said, offering no further explanation.
“Hey,” Adara said, obviously sensitive to Clark’s need for some emotional space. “Maybe we can call ahead and get some poke brought out to the plane when we land in Honolulu. There’s a good place not too far from the airport.”
Ding shrugged. “If you’d rather have raw tuna and soy sauce than a Smith and Wollensky steak…”
“Nice try, mister,” Adara said. “One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.” She settled in beside Dom. “I love Hawaii. A shame we’ll only get to see the airport.”
Caruso leaned against her shoulder. “Don’t worry, hon, Indonesia is a tropical paradise, too. Just a hell of a lot more people who’ll want to kill us. It’ll be fun.”
The Gulfstream bounced a little as it rolled down the taxiway. Clark had never been much of a talker anyway, but he’d turned inward from the time he’d gotten the last call.
Chavez caught his eye and gave him an “Okay?” signal like scuba divers used, a circle with his thumb and forefinger.
Clark gave him a quiet nod and then shut his eyes, following up with an involuntary shake of his head. He’d known Pat West, so he was already upset about that. But this was different. Clark wasn’t just upset. He was shaken — which had a way of making Ding doubt the things he took for granted, like gravity. John Clark was as solid as they came. When something was bad enough to bother him, it was either very bad — or very personal.
22
Peter Li kissed his wife hello as soon as he walked in the door, and then immediately said good-bye. He felt a mixture of pride and giddiness every time he saw her radiant face and swelling belly. Most men his age were playing golf and looking at motor home brochures. Here he was, married to a woman more than ten years his junior, preparing for a new baby. It would either keep him young or kill him, but he decided he’d enjoy it either way.