Operation Attack To Take Jersey Back was shortlived. The President himself ordered the operation scuttled as reports started coming out of Ayounde. He reasoned that he wasn’t giving in to terrorism if he gave in so quick that nobody really noticed.
Remo was feeling double-talked into exhaustion. “What’s the situation now?” he asked resignedly. “In Ayounde? What about Sir Race Car Driver? He still governor?”
“He has announced that the contamination seems to have halted, but the country faces a new health crisis. The capital is littered with cadavers and there are not enough people to clean them up. Disease will begin to spread within twenty-four hours.”
“The contamination is over?” Remo asked.
“A few health workers are already arriving on the scene and they confirm it,” Mark Howard said. “They’ve even taken water samples and found it clean.”
“What?”
“They are trying to persuade other health organizations to come into Ayounde as quickly as possible, before a bad situation gets worse.”
“How can it be over?” Remo demanded.
“How would you like to go to Ayounde and find out?” asked Harold W. Smith.
“No,” Chiun said. “I think not.”
“I’m on my way,” Remo said. “What am I looking for?”
Chapter 23
Sir Sheldon Jahn allowed the applause of thirty thousand Asians to carry him into the backstage area. He’d given them three encores. That was enough. Always leave them wanting more.
Sheldon knew show business. He’d been a superstar since the early 1970s, when he had more hit records than he could count. Now all his fans were grown up and had kids of their own and Sheldon was as popular as ever, even though he hadn’t had a chart-topper in years.
Show business made him as rich as the queen, but he was bored with it all. The concert in Hong Kong was his last ever. He was quitting show business, and embarking on a new career, at age fifty-nine.
Tonight he would become a conqueror.
It made him giggle.
Strolling through the backstage area without pausing even to change his attire, he ignored the sumptuous catering and the bevy of Chinese cross-dressers brought in for his enjoyment
“Ell, where’re you going?” It was his manager, Clarice. She was proportioned like an upside-down bowling pin and smoked Camels using a slender, ivory holder. The antique cigarette holder was worth thousands, but it made her look ridiculous.
“Out,” Sheldon replied.
“Dressed like that?” She waved her cigarette holder at him. Sheldon was still in his sky-blue sequined suit. “Who cares?”
“But darling, you haven’t eaten.”
“I’m too excited to eat,” he replied as he slipped out the rear doors and into the waiting limo.
“Excited about what?” Clarice demanded, but the door thumped shut and the limo pulled away. Sheldon sighed and stretched out in the seat. Let Clarice fret. She’d know soon enough.
When the phone bleeped, Sheldon snatched it up.
“You should be able to see your army, now, Sir Jahn,” said the voice of the enigmatic duke.
“They’re here,” Sheldon replied, peering through the dark glass to make out the distinctive shapes of the Hummers that crowded in around the limo. “We’re on our way!”
“Good. Keep it cool. Sir Jahn. No whooping.”
“I’ll try not to whoop,” Jahn promised, but he felt like whooping already.
They muscled through the dense Hong Kong traffic for twenty minutes before arriving at a glass-and-concrete box as big as the stadium they just left, but quite somber. The perfunctory sign at the front entrance told them they were arriving at the Divisional Ministry of Financial Logistics. The Hummers stayed on the street when the limo pulled to the doors.
Sheldon Jahn came out of the back with a wide smile, and he waved at the pair of uniformed guards. “Good evening!”
“The guards were stunned. There was no mistaking the celebrity in the sequins. “Mr. Sheldon Jahn!” one of them exclaimed.
“In the flesh! How are you gents?”
“We are fine, sir.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. What in the world is this place? Some sort of an accounting ministry? How terribly dull! Is it dull?”
The guards didn’t get a chance to answer.
“They should at least decorate the place a little. Maybe some sequins.”
The guards laughed at the stupid joke.
“Anyway, I’m here to see somebody. Mr…. Mr.—” he found a scrap of paper in his breast pocket “—Sui-wah. Mr. Sui-wah. Do I have the correct building?”
The senior guard nodded. “This is correct, Mr. Sheldon Jahn.”
“Call me Sheldon.”
The guard nodded seriously, privileged to be bestowed this rare gift of intimacy. “Yes, Mr. Ell. Mr. Sui-wah is within this building. But, I am ashamed to say, I think you cannot go to see him.”
“Oh. Oh, dear me.” Sheldon Jahn’s face fell. “But I have a gift for—for his daughter.” Sheldon began to weep.
The guards were mortified and deeply embarrassed. The senior guard grabbed the receiver and called upstairs, then hung up saying, “Please come with me, Ell.”
They marched inside, the senior guard and pop star Sir Sheldon Jahn. The reception desk was more like a guard post, but the guards just gawked.
“Why does a place this boring need machine guns to guard it?” Sheldon asked on the elevator.
“There are some financial dealings that happen here in a secure manner,” the guard explained.
“Say no more! That stuff puts me to sleep. I let my lawyers handle the money. How is Sui-wah’s daughter?”
“Sir?”
“Last I heard, she was very ill. The treatments weren’t working. They weren’t expecting her, well, to recover.”
The guard nodded seriously. He had heard nothing of this, but he was only the guard.
“She mailed me a letter, you see. She’s my biggest fan in Hong Kong. But she couldn’t come to the concert because she’s too sick. It broke my heart. So I brought her this.” He showed the guard the teddy bear. It wore sunglasses and pink sequins.
“That will comfort her very much, I am sure,” the guard said.
The bear was X-rayed at the security station on the top floor, along with Sir Sheldon Jahn. The machine had problems with the sequins and he allowed the jacket to be searched by hand.
“Shall I take my trousers off?”
“No! No. That is not necessary, Mr. Jahn.”
He was led into the information labs. “Oh, my word, what an awful place!” Sheldon exclaimed. “Nothing but machines and more machines!”
The machines were banks of mainframe computers and data storage units. “It is one of the largest data-processing centers in all of Asia,” the guard said with pride and a hint of defensiveness.
“It’s cold!”
“The air-conditioning is necessary to keep the computers cool.”
“Just awful.”
A confused and official-looking Chinese man in a lab coat approached them. “I am Mr. Sui-wah.”
“It is so good to meet you! Tell me, how is your daughter? Is she responding to the treatment?”
Mr. Sui-wah looked stricken.
“Oh, dear heavens,” Sheldon gasped. “Don’t tell me—”
“Mr. Jahn, I am afraid my daughter has perhaps told you an untruth. She is not sick.”
Sheldon just stared.
“I am so sorry. I was not even aware that she was a great big fan of yourself and now I do not know what to say.”
Sheldon sat down at a workstation. “Oh, goodness. I had this made special for her!” He thrust the bear at Mr. Sui-wah, who didn’t know what to do. Finally, he took it and stammered out further apologies, never noticing that the downcast pop star was actually peering at the open door behind him.