As I came through the banner that led into the opulent lobby of Paradise City’s airport. I spotted him before he spotted me.
That tall, lean figure was unmistakable, but there were changes.
Then he saw me and his lean face lit up with a smile. It wasn’t that wide, friendly grin he kept especially for me out in Vietnam. It was a cynical smile of a man full of disillusions, but anyway a smile.
‘Hi! Jack!’
We shook hands. His hand was hot and sweaty: so sweaty I surreptitiously wiped my hand on the seat of my pants.
‘Hi! Colonel! It’s been a long time...’
‘Sure has.’ He regarded me. ‘Cut out the Colonel, Jack. Call me Bernie. You look fine.’
‘And you too.’
His grey eyes moved over me.
‘That’s good news. Well, come on. Let’s get out of here.’
We crossed the crowded lobby into the hot sunshine. As we walked I looked him over. He was wearing a dark blue blouse shirt, white linen slacks and expensive looking sandals. He made my seersucker brown suit and scuffed shoes shabby.
In the shade stood a white E-type Jag. He slid under the driving wheel and I got in beside him, shoving my bag at the back.
‘Some car.’
‘Yeah. It’s all right.’ He shot me a quick look. ‘It’s not mine. It belongs to the boss.’
He drove onto the highway. The time was 10.00 and the traffic was light.
‘What have you been doing since you got out?’ he asked as he steered the car past a truck loaded with crates of oranges.
‘Nothing. Just getting the feel of being out. I’m shacked up with my old man. I’ve been spending Army money. It’s running low now. You caught me at the right moment. Next week I was going to write to Lockheed to see if they could find a place for me.’
‘You wouldn’t want that, would you?’
‘I guess not, but I have to eat.’
Olson nodded.
‘That’s right... don’t we all.’
‘You look as if you eat and then some.’
‘Yeah.’
He swung the Jag of the highway and onto a dirt road that led down to the sea. A hundred yards or so down the road we came to a wooden built cafe-bar with a veranda that looked out onto the expanse of beach and beyond the sea. He pulled up.
‘We can talk here Jack,’ he said and got out.
I followed him up the creaky steps and onto the veranda. The place was empty. We sat down at a table and a girl came out and smiled at us.
‘What’ll you have?’ Olson asked.
‘A coke,’ I said although I wanted whisky.
‘Two cokes.’
The girl went away.
‘You quit drinking Jack?’ Olson asked. ‘I remember you were hitting the hard stuff pretty often.’
‘I start after six.’
‘Sound idea. I don’t touch the stuff now.’
He produced a pack of cigarettes and we lit up. The girl came with the cokes, then went away.
‘I haven’t a lot of time Jack, so let me give you the photo,’ Olson said. ‘I have a job for you... if you want it.’
‘You said fifteen grand. I’m still getting over the shock.’ I grinned at him. ‘Anyone but you who offered me that kind of money, I would have thought crazy, but coming from you. Colonel, I’m sort of excited.’
He sipped his coke and stared out across the beach.
‘I’m working for Lane Essex,’ he said and paused.
I stared at him, startled. There could be few people who hadn’t heard of Lane Essex. He was one of those colourful men like Playboy’s Hefner, although a lot richer than Hefner. Essex ran nightclubs, owned hotels in every major city in the world, ran Casinos, built blocks of apartments, owned a couple of oil fields, had a big stake in the Detroit car world and was reputed to be worth two billion dollars.
‘That’s something!’ I exclaimed. ‘Lane Essex! You mean you’re offering me a job to work for him?’
‘That’s the idea Jack, if you want it.’
‘Want it? This is terrific! Lane Essex!’
‘Sounds fine, doesn’t it? But I told you... it’s a toughie. Look, Jack, working for Essex is like getting tangled with a buzz saw.’ He stared at me. ‘I’m thirty-five and I have grey hair. Why? Because I work for Lane Essex.’
I looked directly at him and I remembered him thirteen months ago. He had aged ten years. That snap in his voice had gone. There was a shifty, worried expression in his eyes. His hands were never still. He fiddled with his glass. He kept flicking at his cigarette. He kept running his fingers through his greying hair. This wasn’t Colonel Bernie Olson I used to know.
‘Is it that tough?’
‘Essex has a saying,’ Olson said quietly. ‘He says nothing in this world is impossible. He called a meeting a couple of months ago and had all his staff gathered together in some goddamn hall. He delivered a pep talk. The theme was that if you wanted to remain with him you had to accept the impossible as possible. He has a staff of over eight hundred men and women: that’s his personal staff; people working in Paradise City; executives, P.R.O’s. lawyers, accountants, right down to people like myself. He told us if we couldn’t accept this requirement that nothing on this earth is impossible, then to see Jackson, his second-in-command, and check out. Not one of the eight hundred dummies, including myself, saw Jackson. So now we’re stuck with this slogan that nothing is impossible.’ He flicked away the butt of his cigarette and lit another. ‘Now I come to you Jack. Essex has ordered a new plane: a four jet job I’m going to fly. It’s a very special job with accommodation for a big conference, ten sleeping cabins, all the works: bar, restaurant and so on and so on, plus Essex’s suite with a circular bed. This job will be delivered in three months’ time, but Essex’s runway which takes the kite I’m flying now isn’t long enough to take the new kite. I have the job of lengthening the runway. While I’m doing this, I also have to fly him all over the goddamn world. It just can’t be done, but nothing is impossible.’ He drank some of his coke. ‘So I thought of you I’m putting the cards face up on the table Jack. I get paid forty-five thousand a year. I want you to take care of the runway and see for certain it is ready within three months from today. We get delivery of the new kite on November 1st and I expect to fly her in. I’m offering you fifteen thousand out of my pay. I tried to talk to Essex, but he wouldn’t play. “It’s your job, Olson,” he said. “How you do it doesn’t interest me but do it!” I knew better than to ask him for extra help. He doesn’t go along with that sort of talk. You don’t have to worry about expenses. I’ve got the operation started, but I want you to be there to see it keeps moving.’
‘What’s the additional length of the runway?’
‘A half a mile will do it.’
‘What’s the ground like?’
‘Pretty hellish. There’s a forest, slopes and even rocks.’
‘I’d like to take a look at it.’
‘I expected you to say that.’
We regarded each other. This wasn’t the exciting job I had been hoping for. Some instinct told me that there was something odd about it.
‘At the end of three months, providing I get the runway built, what happens to me?’
‘A good question.’ He fiddled with his glass and stared out across the beach. ‘I’ll have a talking point with Essex. He’ll be pleased. I can talk him into giving you the job as airport supervisor and you’ll earn at least thirty thousand.’
I finished my coke while I thought.
‘Suppose Essex isn’t pleased... then how do I stand?’
‘You mean if you don’t complete the job in three months?’
‘That’s what I mean.’
Olson lit another cigarette. I noticed his hands were unsteady.
‘Then I guess you and I are washed up. I told him it could be done. If you don’t fix it, then we both are out.’ He dragged smoke into his lungs. ‘I was lucky to get this job Jack. Top class pilots are a dime a dozen these days. Essex has only to snap his fingers to have a load of them in his lap.’