“That’s quick,” Hanley said.
The billionaire nodded but offered nothing more. “Your voice sounds rough. Can I offer you something?”
“The rain and the air on the commercial flights I’ve been taking,” Hanley said. “I think I’m coming down with something.”
The billionaire pushed a button and Gunderson appeared.
“Could you bring Mr. Talbot some tea with lemon and honey?”
“And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have a snifter of warmed Ouzo, please.”
“Right away, sir,” Gunderson said.
On the roof of the hangar, King heard the exchange. “They are ordering drinks, sir.”
“Open the door, Monica,” Cabrillo ordered.
Crabtree hit a button and raised the hangar door far enough for the SUV to exit.
“Time to go, men,” Cabrillo shouted to Adams and Spenser.
Adams placed the Chevrolet in gear and drove slowly to the door. Then he exited the hangar into the pouring rain.
Gunderson returned with the drinks to find the billionaire staring silently at Hanley. “The pilot asked me to tell you that a truck is approaching,” said Gunderson.
The billionaire turned from Hanley and stared out the window. A white Chevrolet SUV pulled near the ramp, and a man he didn’t recognize climbed from the driver’s seat and walked to the rear. Once there, he removed a folded, portable, aluminum-legged awning from the rear and erected it. Then the billionaire watched as Spenser climbed from the passenger seat.
“Come on,” the billionaire said to Hanley. “Our prize has arrived.”
At the same time Hanley and the billionaire were walking toward the ramp, Adams pulled the crate containing the Buddha forward and opened the top. Then he walked back to the driver’s seat and climbed inside out of the rain.
The billionaire appeared at the top of the stairs and Spenser, under the awning, motioned for him to descend. The two men walked down the ramp.
“Let’s do this out of the rain,” the billionaire said when he reached the tarmac. “Inside my plane.”
Spenser shook his head in the negative. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me,” he said, “so until I receive payment and you take delivery, the Golden Buddha remains on the ground.”
The billionaire turned to Hanley. “Is this the dealer that made the winning bid?”
“Yes,” Hanley said.
“You’re Mike Talbot,” Spenser said.
“Michael,” Hanley corrected.
“Did you bring cash like we agreed?” Spenser asked.
“Bearer bonds,” the billionaire answered. “If everything checks out.”
Hanley stood quietly, with the gusts of wind blowing sprinkles of rain onto his mask.
“Check it out,” the billionaire said to Hanley.
Hanley walked over and examined the Buddha in detail, then reached down and shaved a small sample of gold from the foot. “Did you bring the other sample?” he asked the billionaire, who reached into his pocket and removed an envelope.
Hanley removed an eyepiece from his pocket and pretended to study the sample for a few minutes. “They match,” he said at last.
“I’ll retrieve the payment,” the billionaire said.
At exactly the same time, Chuck Gunderson was placing the last strip of duct tape over the mouth of the copilot. Binding the men’s wrists with plastic ties, he laid the pilot and copilot together on the floor of the cockpit.
“Target’s heading up the stairs,” King radioed Cabrillo.
“Make the call,” Cabrillo said to Nixon.
Inside the 737, Gunderson turned to the brunette flight attendant. “Do me a favor,” he said, “close that cabin door.”
As the billionaire climbed the stairs in the rain, he could not hear the footsteps as Adams, Spenser and Hanley sprinted through the puddles to the rear of the hangar. His mind was on the Golden Buddha and retrieving the briefcase that held the key to owning the icon. He was halfway up the ramp when the door to his jet started to close. Just as he reached the top step, the hatch was locked in place. Banging on the door, the billionaire began screaming at the top of his lungs.
ACROSS town, Ling Po was just about to enter the manhole when his cell phone rang.
“Things have gotten too hot for us,” an unknown voice said to Po. “You win, Detective. There is a white Chevrolet Tahoe on the runway at Macau airport. It has the Buddha that was stolen from the party. Good- bye.”
The telephone went dead in Po’s ear. For a moment, he stared at it in amazement—then he quickly dialed Sung Rhee.
