“Your intelligence is good,” Cabrillo said.
Putin studied the image and nodded. “Yes, it is,” he said.
“The preliminary estimates place the reserves in the neighborhood of fifty billion barrels.”
“That’s an expensive neighborhood,” Putin said. “About half of the reserves in Kuwait, or around five percent of the world’s known reserves.”
“It’s potentially an elephant field,” Cabrillo agreed. “Even if it is less, we believe it is definitely larger than the field on the north slope of Alaska.”
“That would put it in the top twenty of all known fields,” Putin noted.
“Exactly, sir,” Cabrillo said.
“However, right now, the Chinese have control of the field and they don’t even know of its existence,” Putin said, “so you want us to remove them from Tibet.”
“Not exactly, sir,” Cabrillo said. “What we are proposing is that Russia join in a consortium to develop the field. Fifty percent to Tibet, forty percent to your country.”
“And the other ten percent?”
“The other ten percent will be owned by my company,” Cabrillo said, “for putting it all together.”
“Nice tip,” Putin said, smiling, “but you are asking me to commit my forces for a profit. As soon as the casualties start pouring in, my citizens will smell a rat.”
Cabrillo nodded slowly. Then he set the hook.
“Then we make a deal with China,” he said easily. “Jintao wants out anyway—his economy is tanking and his increasing oil imports are accelerating his problems. You make a diplomatic mission to China and offer him half of the production at a cost of fifteen dollars a barrel for the next ten years, and I think he’ll take it and back down.”
Putin laughed. “Brilliant.”
“There’s one more thing,” Cabrillo said slowly.
“Yes?”
“We need your UN vote in the Security Council meeting Monday,” Cabrillo said.
“You’re going to legitimize the coup?” Putin asked.
“We think we can pull the votes,” Cabrillo agreed.
“A lot could go wrong,” Putin said, “but it could work. What exactly would Russia need to do to participate?”
“First we need your troops to enter Mongolia,” Cabrillo said. “I understand the Mongolian government would okay the incursion. That draws the Chinese farther from Tibet. Second, I would need as many crack paratroops as you can field to enter the country as soon as the Dalai Lama returns and we stabilize the situation. The Dalai Lama has agreed to invite Russia to provide security until the situation stabilizes. The invitation will be announced to the world community, so the fallout other than from China should be small. Third, we need you to make the diplomatic approach to China with the oil offer—it has been made clear to me the United States wants no direct involvement in the liberation of Tibet.”
“I have spoken to your president,” Putin said. “He mentioned the need for secrecy.”
“Good,” Cabrillo said. “Next, I need that vote in the UN. If we can hold off the Chinese until the vote comes in and the peacekeepers arrive, then the Russian troops will be relieved.”
Putin rose from the chair and stoked the fire. “So Russia invests no money, only muscle.”
“The company that will develop the oilfield has already been formed,” Cabrillo said. “All I need is your signature on this document that has already been signed by the Dalai Lama, and your word you will do what we have discussed, and we can proceed.”
Makelikov entered the room just as Putin placed the stoker back in the rack. He stepped over to Cabrillo, took the document and read it quickly.
“Sergei,” he said, “bring me a pen.”
“I’LL swap you,” Gurt said to one of the other mercenary pilots, “if you don’t mind.”
“What did you draw?” the other pilot asked.
“Medevac,” Gurt said.
“I’ll gladly switch,” the pilot said. “Mine looks to be the most dangerous mission.”
“I’ve worked with Murphy before,” Gurt said. “Plus I have more high-altitude flying time than you. I don’t mind.”
“Be my guest,” the pilot said. “Flying a load of explosives north is not my idea of a good time.”
“I’ll make sure it’s okay with Seng,” Gurt said, walking off.
“THE fastest way to get you there,” Hanley said, “is to drop you in Singapore, then have you flown by jet to Vanuatu. From there we’ll switch you to a turboprop STOL that can land at the smaller airfields on Kiribati and Tuvalu.”
Truitt nodded.
“We need those votes,” Hanley said quietly. “Do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
“Not to worry,” Truitt said. “Even if it takes a river of grease, by Monday vote time they will be ours.”
Later that night, the
