Golden Buddha

The guard reached for his walkie-talkie and ordered the Buddha to be moved upstairs. Then he reached down and lifted Crabtree and cradled her in his arms. He started walking out of the tent toward the landing zone. Cabrillo raced across the grounds to the van. Once inside, he adjusted the outside mirror and stared into the camera.

“We’re collecting the props,” he said as he twisted the key and started the engine.

ON the Oregon, Max Hanley was watching the unfolding scene with amazement.

The two distinct groups were obvious. The Corporation members were moving about in a blur of motion and action, while the rest of the party seemed caught in a haze of indecision and disbelief. The element of chaos in the surroundings was complete. It was almost time to stoke the fires of escape.

“Murph, Lincoln, Halpert,” Hanley said, “Juan’s coming around with the van. Load up fast and make your way to the front of the mansion.”

He saw the waves of acknowledgment.

“Ross, dispose of the punch and the doctored appetizers left on the tables.”

“Larry,” Hanley asked, “what do you see?”

“The policeman is leaning against the front of his car, waiting for help. I think we can count him out for now. One of the guards has just left the tent, carrying Monica. He’s making his way to extraction point one.” King sca

“Good,” Hanley said, “everything is in play. You can make your egress anytime you deem fit. If you make your way along the wall and wait by the street, I’ll have Juan slow the van down as he passes.”

“Understand,” King said.

He began to break down the rifle and fit it into its case. Once that was done, he climbed down to the edge of the wall and began to make his way west.

“Who haven’t we used?” Hanley asked one of the operators, who stared quickly at the list of participants.

“Truitt,” the operator replied.

“Where’s Julia?”

“Last we saw her, she was going back inside the tent,” the operator said. “But since the chairman broke down the keyboard set, we’ve lost the camera inside.”

“Dick,” Hanley said, “if you can hear me, signal someone in our team.”

Cabrillo pulled the van to the rear of the tent. It had been slow going with all the people wandering the grounds. He slid the van into Park and opened the door. Truitt appeared at the rear of the tent and motioned to the camera in the van’s mirror.

“Dick, I need you to find Julia,” Hanley said. “She immobilized the art dealer. Carry him to the landing zone, then I want the two of you to exit via Crabtree’s limousine.”

Truitt gave the camera a thumbs-up and raced away.

The members of the team were tossing the remaining speakers and electronics into the rear of the van. Out over Nam Van Lakes, the landing lights of the helicopter were visible and growing brighter. The thumping of the rotor blades increased as the helicopter drew near.

Inside the tent it was pandemonium. Truitt found Huxley talking to Ho, who seemed unable to move from where he stood. Too much was happening, his brain could not put it all into place.

“The megaphone,” he said in a daze. “I have to warn the guests.”

“Who has it?” Truitt asked Ho.

“The band,” Ho said. “The band said they had one.”

“I just saw them at the rear of the tent,” Truitt said. “You should go there.”

Ho raced off.

Truitt reached over and whispered in Huxley’s ear, “Where’s the art dealer?”

Huxley led him over, and she and Truitt carried Spenser out onto the grounds.

The helicopter pilot slowed his forward speed and initiated a hover. The Eurocopter EC-350 that the Corporation had leased was a sweet machine—it hung in the air with little input from the controls. Reaching to the radio on the control panel, the pilot changed the radio frequency.

“I’m waiting,” he said to the Oregon.

“What do you see?” Hanley asked.

The pilot flicked on his landing lights.

“I have two people carrying a body to the zone,” the pilot said. “Everything else is in place.”

“As soon as they reach the zone, touch down,” Hanley said, “but watch for another party who will be arriving. We’ll need four to get the object aboard.”

“Tom?” Hanley said.

Crabtree’s limousine driver was behind the wheel of the car. He flashed his lights.

“I have a car flashing their lights,” the pilot said.

“Drive onto the lawn and park near the landing zone. Then load the helicopter.”

The lights flashed again and the limousine began moving.

“He heard you,” the pilot said.

Hanley was pacing back and forth. There were several carefully timed actions occurring. As long as everyone followed the plan, the team would be out in a few more minutes. This was what the Corporation called Critical Time. The time when it could all go to hell in seconds.

“Juan’s waving,” one of the operators said, pointing to a monitor.

Just then, Ho wandered over.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Cabrillo turned and smoothed his hair back. “Just checking my hair.”

Ho nodded. “You said you had a megaphone I could use?”

Cabrillo nodded and reached between the seats, removed the megaphone and handed it to Ho.

“It’s battery operated,” he said. “Just flick that switch.”

Ho flicked it on. “Testing.”

It worked. He stared into the van, where the rest of the band members were sprawled across the seats and atop the cases of equipment.

“Where’s Candace?” Ho asked. His head was starting to clear. That was dangerous.

“We are going to meet her around front,” Cabrillo said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Now I need to get my people to the hospital.”

“Tell her she can stay if she wants,” Ho said.

“I’ll mention it,” Cabrillo said as he twisted the key, then placed the van in gear and slowly began to steer through the crowd.

Ho wandered back into the tent. He was thinking clearer now. The megaphone was not that powerful, but if he could find a spot above the crowd they would probably be able to hear his warning. His office—his office was on the top floor.

The helicopter pilot touched down and Truitt opened the rear door.

Then Truitt, Barrett, Reyes and Huxley struggled to slide the crate inside the cargo area. Once the Golden Buddha was safely stowed, they laid Spenser on the floor and helped Crabtree inside. Truitt slid the door closed, then slapped it twice to signal the pilot to lift off. Then they bent over and protected their faces from the rotor wash as the Eurocopter lifted back into the air.

Once the helicopter was safely away, Reyes stood up.

“I’m supposed to give you guys a ride,” he said easily.

At that instant, Reinholt and Pryor had just reached the bottom stair. They opened the front door and walked out onto the driveway. The door had only been shut a few seconds before Ho raced to the first step and headed up to his office.

“What’s the playlist?” Hanley asked an operator.

“The helicopter has Crabtree; the limo contains Reyes, Barrett, Truitt, and Huxley, with Reyes driving. Cabrillo has the band inside the van.” The operator pointed to the screen. “They are just past the end of the tent and will be on the driveway momentarily.”

“Where’s Ross?”

“There, on the grounds,” the operator said, pointing.

The van containing the band was passing and she came into view. A few minutes before, Ross had ordered the waiters to dump all the cups of punch, then she wheeled the cart containing the pitchers outside and tipped it over.

“Linda,” Hanley ordered, “go to your car now! I want you out of there.”

Ross began walking quickly to the front.

“Who else?” Hanley asked.

“King is on the wall awaiting extraction, the other two guards should be in front now and that’s it,” the operator noted.