“Is there anything I can do to make this up to you?”
“No. No harm done, really,” Sheldon said. “I just feel a little embarrassed.” He looked at his watch. “I guess I’ll just leave.”
“May I at least offer you a cup of coffee or tea?” the mortified Mr. Sui-wah pleaded.
“Not necessary!” Sheldon Jahn laughed as the lights went out and the emergency lighting system sprang to life. Sheldon jumped to his feet and sprinted for the open door. Ten paces and he was inside.
“Mr. Jahn, no!” Mr. Sui-wah shouted. He and the guard were chasing after Sheldon, but they weren’t anywhere near quick enough. The British superstar had lulled them into a state of total unpreparedness.
Sheldon slammed the door in their faces, then pushed against the red emergency button. The electronics threw the dead bolts with a thunk.
Sheldon ignored the pounding on the door, making himself at home behind the utilitarian desk belonging to Mr. Sui-wah. He found the buttons he wanted and pressed them in the correct sequence. It was as easy as playing “God Save the Queen” on a toy piano.
The power was restored to the building and the emergency lights in the office gave way to the flicker of the harsh fluorescent tubes from above. Sheldon had just six seconds during the changeover in the power supply to punch in the codes that would disable the building’s electronic security. Six seconds was more than enough time.
“Ha!” he barked as he snapped out the commands and saw the confusion on the first floor. The guards were hitting every button on their controls to try to get their security system to function again.
They gave up when the Hummers screeched to a halt outside their door and the mercenaries burst in, triggering their weapons. The guards were well-armored, so the mercs all took head shots.
“Yuck.” Sheldon found himself strangely fascinated by the sight of the exploding skulls.
The mercenaries ascended floor by floor, ordering the occupants to raise their hands. They didn’t hesitate to cut down anyone who failed to comply.
But somehow that was just fine with Sheldon Jahn. He was a war protester from years back, but this was different. This was for a good cause, and it was okay.
In minutes, the band of mercenaries in camouflage had reached the top floor. With guards stationed on every floor, no one was going anywhere.
The leader of the mercenaries appeared in the screen from the security camera just outside the office. He had Mr. Sui-wah and the friendly guard on the floor with their hands behind their heads, and he waved to Sheldon. “All secure, Sir Jahn.”
Sheldon laughed. He had control of the Hong Kong Department of Financial Logistics—and so he had control of Hong Kong. That meant he had a stranglehold on the People’s Republic of China.
The Commies were soon calling.
“Hello?” he asked into the beeping, lighted dedicated phone line.
“Who is this?”…
“Sir Sheldon Jahn, governor of Her Majesty’s Hong Kong colony.”
There was confusion on the other line. “You will surrender to the army of the People’s Republic of China! Our forces will enter the building in fifteen minutes!”
“Better not. Big mistake. Bloody awful for you.” Sheldon hung up. “Oh, please attack. Please attack. Please, please, please.”
The PRC army attacked. Not eager to destroy their own valuable property, they sent the first wave of soldiers in firing light machine guns that rained noisily against the glass and dented the steel exterior panels.
“I warned them,” Sheldon announced delightedly. He flipped the two cobalt-blue plastic switches and started counting in his head.
“Hello?” he said into the phone. “Sixty million pounds. Seventy million pounds.”
“What have you done?” demanded a furious voice in heavily accented English.
“Turned off Beijing’s access to the International Monetary Data Exchange. I estimate it’s costing the People’s Republic about ten million British pounds every three seconds. One hundred million pounds!”
“What?”
“One hundred ten! Electronic banking, stock trades, commodity transfers—thousands of transactions are not happening because I threw one little switch. How about attacking the building some more?”
“Surrender at once!”
“Not again.”
“What? What does this mean, not again?”
“Britain surrendered its dignity when it agreed to the first Hong Kong handover treaty, and again when we actually did turn it over. I’m reclaiming the territory of Hong Kong for Her Majesty the queen.”
“But! But! The United Kingdom signed an agreement with the Chinese to give back Hong Kong—”
“That agreement was illegal.”
“Hong Kong belonged to China first!” cried the faceless official in Beijing.
“Hong Kong belongs to the British Empire, mate,” Sheldon said seriously. “We fought for it. We took it. It’s ours forever, and no treaty or law or war is going to take it away from us. Is that firmly understood?”
“You are mistaken—it was the English who illegally occupied China’s territory.”
“You’re costing your country a hell of a lot of cash. One hundred fifty million pounds. Call me back when it reaches a billion.”
“A billion pounds?’ the Communist gasped.
Sheldon hung up and let the phone ring until his diamond-encrusted Rolex informed him that a total of five minutes had elapsed since the switch was flipped. He flipped it again and picked up the phone. “I did you Commies a favor.”
“You did us no favor! You are illegally occupying our department and you shall be severely punished!” Sheldon flipped the switch. “One billion ten million pounds. One billion twenty million pounds. One billion thirty million pounds. Say you’re quite sorry and I’ll turn you back on.”
“I am sorry!” cried the bureaucrat.
“That wasn’t so hard.” He turned it back on. “Now I want the people’s financial secretary on the line, along with the people’s defense minister. Unless I’m talking to them both in ten minutes, I flip the switch again.”
“I will NOT be blackmailed,” snapped the people’s defense minister. “Give me that.” He took the phone from one of his faceless drones. “Who is this?”
“This is Financial Secretary Kow.”
“Kow, why are you groveling to these English terrorists?”
“The economic repercussions are grave, General Sou. He has most effectively isolated our electronic data transfer systems. I suggest you cooperate, as well. We have less than seven minutes.”
General Sou made a laughing sound like a yelping dog. “I will not do it. I do not understand the ethic of the accountant class of peoples, but we in the military have some sense of honor.” He sniffed. His staff nodded more vigorously in proportion to the increased visibility of the general’s nostrils.
His nose dipped and his lackeys’ heads froze midbob when another phone rang—the phone.
The general dropped the phone to the financial secretary on the desk and snatched at the dedicated line to the leader of the People’s Republic of China. “Good day. Premier.”
“Patch in Kow.”
The general didn’t know what the phrase even meant. “Pardon me, Premier?”
‘Patch in Secretary Kow for a conference call at once!”
Kow—that was the name of the number-cruncher he’d just been talking to. Had he hung up on him?
No, the phone was still on the table, but the general had no idea how to conference the call into the dedicated line. “Conference Secretary Kow into this call immediately.”