Golden Buddha Part 30

Po walked over and stood next to Rhee.

Po heard him whisper "d.a.m.n" as the elevator door opened again and Stanley Ho started down the hall.

251.

"Have you found my Buddha?" Ho said as soon as he was within range.

"Who the h.e.l.l is this?" the billionaire asked.

"I'm Stanley Ho," Ho said in aggravation. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Marcus Friday," the billionaire said loudly. "You might have heard of me?"

"And you of me," Ho said, affronted. "I'm one of Forbes's richest people."

"I know all the people ahead of me on the list--you aren't one of them," Friday retorted.

Detective Po smiled to himself. If all this was true, it was the greatest game of one-upmanship he had ever seen. Here was a pair of obscenely rich men vying for attention like children trying to be picked for kickball.

"Yeah," Ho began to say, "well, this is my town, and you can--"

"Mr. Ho," Detective Po said quickly, "why don't you come down to my office so we can sort this out?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Ho said loudly.

"Everyone calm down," Rhee said.

He motioned to a conference room, pointed for the reporters to remain in the foyer, and then led the rest inside. Once everyone was inside and seated, he picked up the telephone, ordered tea to be delivered, then spoke.

"Okay, everyone," he said slowly, "who wants to begin?"

Ho stared at the chief inspector. "A Buddha I purchased for two hundred million dollars in Switzerland was stolen tonight while you were at a party at my house. I demand to know if you have recovered it yet."

"I lost a hundred million dollars in bearer bonds and my 737 to a gang of criminals," the billionaire said, "and want to know what is going on in this G.o.dforsaken country."

252.

Po stood up and paced for a second. "Was your plane valued over a hundred million?" he asked Friday.

The billionaire shook his head.

"Then it looks like two hundred million is the highest bid here tonight,"

Po said.

THE STORM SEWER was fast becoming a watery grave.

Less than three feet separated the rising water from the arched dome of air overhead. The drainpipes on the top of the tube were gushing like a downpour. The water was littered with refuse washed from the streets above. Horns by saw a rat swimming toward them in the current and slapped at the creature with a paddle. Just ahead was another junction.

"We need to make a decision," he shouted over the roar of the water. "Sink or swim."

Meadows looked forward. In the dimming light from the miner's hard hat he could just see the torrent ahead, a cascade of white water that would make the rafts uncontrollable.

"Ready with the paddles," he shouted. "The horse has to lead the cart."

Digging into the water on the left side of the raft, they swung the M 254.

255.

stern of their raft to the right. The nose of the lead raft, which was carrying the Golden Buddha, pulled hard left but made the turn into the proper channel. The turn was not as smooth for the raft carrying the trio of men. It slammed amidships into the junction, and the corner struck Jones hard in his right side. He hung there for a minute pressed against a concrete arch until the rope holding them to the lead raft went taut and yanked them down the channel.

"Jonesy's been hurt," Meadows shouted above the din.

Pete Jones was clutching the side of his chest and wheezing to catch his breath. Turning his head, in the dim light Hornsby could just make out his shredded shirt and anguished expression.

"My ribs," Jones managed to groan.

"We need to cut the raft loose," Hornsby shouted. "There's no way we'll make the next turn."

"Maybe we should slit the side and sink the Buddha," Meadows shouted. "Then we can return when the water recedes and pull it out of here."

Jones gritted his teeth and stared at his watch. "The Oregon," he said painfully, "is due to sail this morning. If we don't get this out now, we never will."

Hornsby thought for a second, then decided. The next junction would be coming up in a few minutes. Taking a pen from his shirt pocket, he stared at the GPS, then drew the rest of their intended course on the back of his hand.

"Bob," he said, "I'm going onto the lead raft. My weight will place it low in the water, but it should still remain afloat. As soon as I'm on top of the case holding the Buddha, cut me loose."

He handed Meadows the GPS.

"You sure, h.o.r.n.y?"

Hornsby threw his paddle onto the top of the Buddha, pulled the rope to bring the rear raft closer, then turned.

"Ready your knife," he said.

Unclipping a folding knife from his belt, Meadows opened the blade and nodded.

Hornsby crouched and hopped the short distance to the lead raft.

As soon as he was clear, Meadows sliced through the tether, then dug his paddle into the side to slow down his raft. Hornsby squirted ahead.

In the dim light, Meadows could see the Buddha was awash, and only a portion of Hornsby's head and torso were above the waterline.

"Going right," Hornsby shouted as he pulled ahead, "then left."

AS THE STORM sewer pipes came closer to the water, they increased in diameter so the storm water would not become pressurized and blow apart the tiles. At six places under Macau were large square pond-like storage facilities where the water could pool and lose some speed before spilling out into the last series of pipes and eventually the bay.

Murphy and Kasim were motoring around in circles in one of them.

"Five more minutes," Murphy shouted. "Then we go in and find them."

Kasim gave three more blasts on the air horn. "They should be here by now," he agreed.

At just that instant, Murphy's digital pager beeped and he pushed the b.u.t.ton to light the screen. Scrolling through the message, he nodded his head.

"They poured paint into the sewers to follow the flow," he said as he steered the Zodiac into another tight circle. "If it makes it down our escape channel, we're screwed."

"What do you mean?" Kasim asked.

"The paint will bring the Chinese to the area, as well as marking the sides of the Zodiac," Murphy said. "Then they'll grab us and take us in for questioning."

"What's the Oregon recommend?"

Murphy was quiet for a moment before answering. "They want us to blow up the tunnel leading into here and seal off the tainted water."

256.

"How long do we have?"

"Six minutes and forty-seven seconds," Murphy said, removing -a satchel charge from one of the bags in the bottom of the boat.

"What about the others?" Kasim asked.

"If they aren't out by then," Murphy said, "the Oregon said to a.s.sume they took a wrong turn or drowned inside. Then we need to protect our own a.s.ses and make a safe retreat."

Murphy angled the Zodiac over to the pipe leading into the holding pool. Using the power of the outboard motor, he held the boat in place against the strong current until Kasim had attached the charges to the top of the storm sewer. Once the explosives were in place, Kasim activated the digital timer. Four, three, two, one, and the red light blinked.

"Give the signal again," Murphy said as he backed the Zodiac away.

IT WAS LIKE Hornsby was riding a log down a flume. He was almost awash and the distance over his head to the top of the pipe was narrowing as the water continued rising. The last turn had been made by gouging his paddle into the water and bringing the bow slightly to one side. He readied his leg to push against the wall for the next bend.

Hornsby had lost sight of the others. The light on his hard hat was nearly out and he had no way to know if Meadows and Jones had taken the correct channel. Anyway, there was nothing he could do if they hadn't. He was more concerned for his own survival. He jammed his leg against the wall and the raft lumbered over into the correct channel.

And then, like the distant chirping of a mother bird calling her young, he heard the faint sound of a horn sounding three times. The raft, with Hornsby atop the Golden Buddha, raced on the current in the direction of the sound.

A.

S THE ZODIAC circled, Kasim attempted to keep a portable spotlight trained at the opening of the pipe. The timer on the satchel I 1.257.

charge was ticking down and, quite honestly, he was beginning to lose faith this was all going to work out.

"Two minutes," he said over the sound of the motor.

Murphy listened intently. A sound was coming from the tunnel that sounded like the bellowing of a wounded animal. And then, riding on a scream and a prayer, Cliff Hornsby shot from the pipe and slid halfway across the pond. Murphy quickly angled the Zodiac alongside and Kasim grabbed the edge of the raft.

"Where are the others?" Murphy shouted.

Hornsby wiped the water from his eyes and glanced at the high-barreled ceiling just barely visible from the spotlight trained on the timer. "They were right behind me."

"Did you see any colored water?" Kasim asked.

"What do you mean?"

"They poured paint in the manhole to trace the flow of water,"

Murphy said. "Did you see anything in the water?"

"No," Hornsby said.

"One minute, thirty seconds," Kasim said.

"What's happening?" Hornsby asked.

"We've been ordered to seal off this exit," Murphy said, "so we have a chance at a clean escape. Sound the horn."

JONES WAS LYING in the bottom of the raft, barely able to move. If they had to go in the water or needed to attempt an escape, Meadows figured he'd have to carry him. They had made the last turn, but just barely. Anything from here on out had a limited chance for success.

"How's it going, pal?" he asked.

Jones listened to the distant sound, then opened his eyes and grimaced.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?" Meadows asked, thinking Jones was hallucinating.

"They came for us," Jones said.

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Eighteen seconds later, their raft shot out of the pipe and into the holding pond.

"I don't have time to explain," Murphy yelled, "but take this line and hold tight."

"Just pa.s.sed thirty," Kasim yelled.

Murphy finished tying the leads for the two rafts to the rear of the Zodiac, then slammed the throttle forward. The outboard prop dug into the water and the boat lurched forward across the holding pond, then into the exit tunnel.

"Heads down," Murphy shouted, staring at his stopwatch.

At just that instant, a roar filled the square holding area and reverberated out the escape tunnel. A second later, the inflow pipe collapsed down on itself and sealed off the holding pond. At the same time, a wave began to build that rolled across the pond and sought the only opening. The top of the wave was higher than the exit pipe and filled the outflow to overflowing. Kasim swung the spotlight around and noticed the approaching tsunami.

"Shock wave approaching," he shouted as the Zodiac with the rafts in tow entered the pipe leading to the bay.

BQ.

ON BOARD THE Oregon, preparations for departure were moving at lightning speed.

Juan Cabrillo reached for the telephone and placed a call to the acting harbormaster.