Macao, September 13
The meeting took place in a remote seaside villa far from the outskirts of this teeming city of gamblers, prostitutes, thieves, and adventurers.
One person arrived by stolen car and used the front entrance.
The other came by sea and docked a stolen speedboat at the jetty out back.
Each was dressed in black, and wore a bulky jumpsuit, gloves, and shapeless hood. Thus, neither would recognize the other if they happened to run into each other by accident.
The same held true of their voices. For added protection, electronic distorters were strapped around their mouths, reducing their words to deep, robotic monotones.
There was safety in stealth, protection in remaining but a code- named entity.
As planned, their paths converged in a windowless marble anteroom, where the rheostat on the crystal chandelier was turned down to a weak glow. Even in the dimness of that shadow-strewn light, their eyes were invisible. For added anonymity, both wore black sunglasses under their hoods.
For a moment they stared at each other with wary respect. Each knew that the other was one of the two most dangerous individuals alive.
The taller one spoke first. "I shall require the ten best specialists in their field," the electronically distorted voice squawked monosyllabically. "I have a list here. Six are laying low. They will have to be found. Four that I know of are serving life sentences. They will need to be sprung. Do you think you can do it?"
"What is the timetable?" the other's identically distorted voice asked.
"There is none yet."
"Good." The hooded head nodded once, the gloved hand took the list, shone a penlight down it, and memorized the names. After a moment, a lighter flared and the list burned and was dropped, the charred remains shredded under a crepe heel. "I will need four months."
"You have it. The job could be soon after, or it might be a year or more from then. Our people will need safe houses and patience."
"And their incentives?"
"Ten million dollars each. After the job is completed."
There was a pause. "And mine?"
"One half share of the remainder."
"Which will be?"
"The same as I get. Approximately half a billion dollars. I take it you find that acceptable?"
The other hooded figure nodded.
"Good. We will meet again in exactly two months' time. I will get in touch by the usual method."
Before the first light of dawn, two "accidents" occurred at opposite ends of the island.
One involved a car which went out of control, hit a stone wall, and exploded upon impact. By the time the fire department arrived, it was but a furiously burning shell.
The other occurred almost simultaneously and involved a speedboat that rammed one of the docked hydrofoils which made the Macao- Hong Kong run. Again, a massive explosion and an enormous fireball rent the night.
Zhang Gu, the island's fire chief, was baffled after he visited the scene of each fire. His investigators and scuba divers had combed every square inch of both accident scenes, and had only come up with wreckage.
"It's impossible," Zhang Gu told Lin Zhu, the assistant fire chief.
"What is, sir?" Zhu asked.
"We have two major accidents, and yet not a shred of human bone or tissue."
"It could have been vandalism, sir."
"I suppose so," Gu sighed. "But I do not like it. Something smells of three-day-old fish."
"So do we continue our investigation?"
Zhang Gu thought for a minute and then shook his head. "No," he decided wearily. "Call the men off. We will not find anything. It would only be a waste of time."
Zhang Gu didn't know how right he was. Both perpetrators had long since vanished.
One of them was already a thousand miles away, on board a Qantas flight bound for Sydney, Australia.
The other was on the first leg of a Northwest flight putting down in Tokyo. Headed for Honolulu and the warm waters of Waikiki.