The First End

by Victor Elmalih

  Chapter 13

  Bill had no idea what to expect, but whatever he expected, he was unprepared for the full scope of the exhibition. It wasn’t that there were a lot of people milling about—there wasn’t—but the people who were about all looked to be older. For whatever reason, Bill had expected a younger group of people. He realized belatedly that these were military commanders sent by their respective governments to either oversee an exhibition or to procure equipment beneficial to their militaristic endeavors.

  Despite the obvious military bearing that most everyone had as they walked sedately from exhibit to exhibit, there were no markings to identify them—other than facial features and language. Bill had no doubt that most, if not all, of the Arab nations were represented. In addition, he thought he heard a delegation that spoke Russian, and he noticed several Asian groups walking about in tightly clustered packs.

  The domed building could have easily been converted into a sports arena—and Bill suspected that the original purpose of the building had been used for just such a purpose. However, all the seating had been removed, creating a huge floor space to house the various exhibitions. In the large hallways that surrounded the central exhibits, smaller exhibits had been set up to allow potential buyers to try out various weapons or to watch recorded demonstrations.

  But it wasn’t the smaller ones that Bill was interested in. His eyes were drawn to the center of the dome where several military aircraft sat at rest, looking like nothing more than birds of prey perched, but ready to explode into lethal action at any moment. Fareed saw where his eyes were riveted.

  “Ah, you are interested in the aircraft?”

  “They look particularly magnificent,” Bill agreed, hoping that his interest hadn’t given him away. “I’ve always been fascinated by jets, from my childhood.”

  “Come,” Fareed said. “Let us look.”

  The pair of them, and a few obvious bodyguards, wandered over to the aircraft. The first few were obvious Russian designs, but the attention of the groups in that area were focused solely on a sleek looking aircraft with a Chinese flag painted on the fuselage. Bill guessed that around a hundred people were congregated around the aircraft.

  One voice rose above the others. The lawyer couldn’t make it out, so he turned to his escort. “What is happening here?”

  Fareed listened and then turned to the American with an expression of surprise. “They are bidding on the aircraft right now. This is an experimental fighter plane, or so the Chinese delegate is saying. They have only made this one and are willing to sell it off to the highest bidder.”

  “What’s so special about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Fareed looked troubled. Bill guessed that an open bid was rather unusual for an exhibition. A large display screen was playing back footage of the aircraft in action. Bill studied it and was impressed. The aircraft’s design made it highly maneuverable and stealthy. More than that, the pilot had superhuman reflexes. No human could fly a plane that good. It was impossible. No, this had to be the integration of the top secret technology that the Chinese had stolen from the US.

  Hynes had explained that the core computer component had an adaptability feature that let the computer learn the style of the pilot. It learned what maneuvers were favored and could anticipate their use and execute them quicker than human reflexes could. It stored the data, and aided the pilot in executing difficult if not impossible maneuvers. The net result was an aircraft far more maneuverable and flown by a pilot-computer combination that gave the pilot an unprecedented edge in combat.

  Indeed, the Chinese had found a way to adapt the technology even if they couldn’t reproduce it. They were trying to sell it, knowing that they could make a killing off of the sale, whilst ridding themselves of a potentially volcanic political situation at the same time.

  Taking out a piece of gum, he offered it to Fareed, who turned it down. He popped it into his own mouth and chewed as he began edging forward to get a better look at the aircraft. Fareed followed, also curious. The ex-marine managed to get close enough to the ladder that led up to the cockpit. Two Chinese guards stood there, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Can I take a look?” he asked in Arabic.

  One of the guards looked ready to protest, but Fareed intervened. “Of course you can take a look. This is my country, and this is an exhibition.”

  That prompted a Chinese man to detach himself from the bidding and approach. “May I help you?” he asked in accented English.

  “I just want to look at her,” Bill said, pointing to the cockpit.

  The Chinese man frowned. “My name is Lee Wong. Now that the bidding has begun, we are not allowing anyone else to examine the aircraft.”

  “I’m not trying to buy,” Bill countered. “I just want to look. I’ve never seen anything like this.” He turned to Fareed. “If this is what you are talking about regarding your country, then I guess you’re right. But I don’t know…” he trailed off, doubtfully.

  Fareed immediately turned towards the Chinese man. “I demand that you let my friend examine the plane. He will not harm it and you are free to make sure he takes nothing up there with him and that he only looks. But this is an exhibition, and this is my country.”

  Lee’s face bunched up in tightly controlled anger. He opened his mouth to say something, but undoubtedly, knowing who the young man was, kept him from spouting out any foolishness. He snapped his mouth closed and tightened his lips. He was a guest in Fareed’s country and to refuse the request would be a very serious breech in manners.

  “Very well,” he said at last. “He may examine the cockpit.”

  Bill started towards the staircase when a shorter Chinese soldier stepped in front of him and gestured with arms outstretched. “Hey,” he protested. “What’s this?”

  “Surely you would not mind being checked for instruments that might accidentally damage the sensitive equipment on the aircraft, would you?”

  I doubt it is all that sensitive, Gardner thought to himself. He chewed furiously on his gum, trying to look indignant. Finally, he relented. “If you must. I didn’t ask to come here.”

  “True enough,” Fareed said, trying to placate the irritated Chinese soldier. “I asked him to come.”

  If that had any effect on Wong Lee, he masked it well.

  Gardner mimicked the soldier’s arms, holding them away from his body as the man deftly searched him. He removed the pack of gum, the gum wrapper and Bill’s wallet. He handed these over to Wong Lee, who glanced through the wallet. “Mr. Bill Gardner?” He glanced at Bill. “This says you are a lawyer.”

  “Yep.”

  “What brings you to this country?”

  “What is this? An interrogation?” Fareed asked, now growing angry himself.

  Bill held up his hand. “It’s not an issue. I am here on behalf of Wastend Inc. I have been asked to examine the legalities of certain contract concerns in the region. My job is to make sure everything remains above board.”

  The lawyer held his breath. If the Chinese man remained suspicious for any reason, he would refuse to allow Bill up the staircase. In that event, the entire mission would be jeopardized. He needed to get a look into that cockpit. Lee studied the American for long moments, before finally nodding. “Please be brief. As you can see the bidding is still underway and the potential buyer may be irked to see someone lingering in his new fighter jet.”

  “Of course.” Bill mounted the steps, making a show of being a bit clumsy and ignorant as to what he was doing. At the top of the stairs, he glanced into the open cockpit. Naturally, he didn’t see anything at all that resembled the missing US technology. But he knew it would be there, somewhere deep and protected. He bent over to examine some of the controls, but still didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He turned and clamored back down the steps before Lee resorted to hauling him back down himself.

  Chewing, he nodded to the Chinese man his thanks. “You are most gracious and have done a superb j
ob.”

  Lee’s eyes narrowed even further if that was possible. “You know something of military aircraft.”

  “Hardly a thing. When I was a kid, I once owned a picture book that showed all the US military jets.” His brow furrowed in thought. “That would have been…25 years ago, I guess.” He glanced back at the jet. “Things sure have changed since then.”

  Put at ease, the Chinese commander nodded and handed Bill’s things back. “Yes. Now please be on your way. The bidding is drawing to a close.”

  Bill nodded and joined Fareed. Together they wandered over to some of the other aircrafts. They spent the remainder of the evening looking around. Bill was sure to allow himself to be suitably impressed to put his companion’s ego at ease.

  At some point he took out another piece of gum and slipped it into his mouth so he could chew on something besides air. His last piece of gum was now safely attached to an out of the way niche in the cockpit of the Chinese fighter plane. He had allowed it to drop from his mouth while bending over the controls, deftly catching it and hiding it away where it wouldn’t be easily discovered. He had been assured that the isotope breakdown in the gum would be harmless to him, but would emit a detectable amount of a certain type of radiation that can be detected up to a half mile away.

  The US knew ahead of time that the plane would be sold, but they had no idea who the buyer would be. They needed a way to find it that normal detections would miss. To find the plane, they would need to be within a half mile with a Geiger like counter, but Hynes figured that was better than nothing.

  Finally, Bill had enough. “Thank you Fareed for this. I found it all quite impressive. I see what you mean. Your country is very influential.”

  “Indeed,” the Arab responded smugly, pleased. “It was my pleasure. Do you wish a ride back to the hotel?”

  Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to ride in the Rolls-Royce Phantom again, he said. “You bet!”

  Laughing, Fareed led them out of the military exhibition. Well, things had gone according to plan. That was something to be thankful for anyway.

  Lee turned to one of his subordinate after he watched the American and his young companion leave. “Find out everything you know about this Bill Gardner. I don’t like the way he looks.”

  “That’s got to be one of the most common US names out there,” the young intelligence officer and an expert on the US protested.

  “Granted. Here, maybe this will help.” He pulled an American driver’s license out and handed it to the other officer.

  The man glanced at the New York driver’s license and the picture of Bill Gardner and grinned. “Yes, this will help out quite a bit. What do you want me to do with the information I find out?”

  “I want you to give it to me and flag the man’s passport. If he every sets foot in China, I want to know about it five minutes later.”

  “Yes, sir!” Saluting, the earnest young man ran off.

  Lee turned back to regard the fighter plane. Finding that bit of technology had indeed given him a promotion. More than that, after the ‘accidental drowning’ of Chen, he had replaced the intelligence officer in the field, accompanying the aircraft that now housed the technology he had stolen from Chen.

  Yes, it had been quite the accomplishment. His murder of Chen had allowed him to rise to the United States equivalent rank of Colonel, and he had been given the honor of providing security for the technology. Too bad they couldn’t recreate it. Chinese scientists were working on it, now that they got the basis and knew, more or less, what it could do. They were trying to come up with their own version. They were still many years away, but they would persist. In the meantime, they needed to get rid of the one they had. He had suggested that they simply throw it back into the ocean, but that suggestion had been universally laughed at.

  “The Americans will never believe that we just threw it away,” one general had replied, chuckling at Lee’s naivety. “No, we need to get rid of it in such a way that the Americans know we got rid of it.”

  That didn’t make much sense to Lee. “Are you saying that they know we have it?”

  “Of course they know! They’ve undoubtedly known for some time.”

  “Why haven’t they done anything about it?”

  “Because all we’ve done is study it and run some tests with the one we got. If we put it into actual combat or found a way to reproduce it, then you can expect the Americans to act. No, we will sell it and let some other country worry about the Americans.”

  Politics had never been Lee’s strong suit, so he just snapped his mouth shut and pretended like he understood. Nevertheless, it had been made very clear to him that he needed to protect the technology while it was still in Chinese hands. They stood to make a lot of money from this one sale, as well as strengthen their influence in several regions. If the Americans could steal back the technology or destroy it, all of that would be wasted.

  With all that in mind, he didn’t trust this Bill Gardner. It seemed too much of a coincidence that an American would pick his aircraft to look at above all the other ones. No, something didn’t feel right. He would have to have the man followed…perhaps even killed, if the opportunity arose.

  Lee nodded to himself. Yes, he might just have to kill Bill Gardner. The prospect didn’t bother him in the least.

  His pleasant musings were interrupted by an Iranian and another one of Lee’s aides. They walked up together. “Colonel, this is General Najib. He won the bid, he is buying.”

  Lee bowed to the general. “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I hope you will be pleased with your new acquisition.”

  Najib was a short man with a beard that had gone grey. He wore a military ball cap that hid his head, but Lee suspected the man had started to go bald. He seemed fit enough, looking trim and healthy. The Iranian wore a number of decorations on the front of his uniform, informing Lee that he was dealing with a combat veteran.

  “We shall know once we put it through its paces,” he said. “It is one of the conditions of our purchase.”

  “Of course,” Lee agreed. “As you have no doubt been told, our government won’t turn over possession until all funds have been delivered…including any trade concessions that were included in your bid.” Lee knew that Beijing had been monitoring the sale of the aircraft carefully. They had made the final decision as to who would purchase it.

  “I quite understand. My government will be in contact with yours in the next couple of days to arrange a live demonstration as well as making arrangements to transport the aircraft to Iran.”

  “You have made a wise decision. This one plane will give you dominance in the region for many years, that I can promise.”

  “It had better,” the general muttered darkly. “You only have one of them. We would pay handsomely for more.”

  “Alas, General, we decided to sell only the one. We figure that once the superiority of the aircraft become generally known, we wouldn’t have to use them ourselves. Just knowing that we have them should serve as adequate deterrent.” The lie flowed smoothly from Lee’s lips. He had rehearsed it until he nearly believed it himself.

  Despite that, General Najib looked doubtful. “Either way, Colonel, we will be in touch.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  With a parting salute, Najib departed. Lee sighed. He would be too busy in the coming days to give much thought to the American. Too bad, he thought to himself. I really wanted to kill him.