nodded, as if her explanation made perfect sense, but he was now positive she wasn’t being entirely candid. Jake was bold, but he was never careless, especially where Billie was concerned. “It must have been terrible.”
“It was. I don’t like to talk about it.”
Whether her back-off warning was intentional or not, Simon realized there were some answers he would have to obtain on his own. “So what can we do to help?”
“The President is depending on us. You have to stop these accidents. We have to make the deadline.”
You, not exactly what he wanted to hear—that he was now responsible for holding together a trade alliance he wasn’t aware existed until ten minutes ago. “Where do we start?”
“With a good show.” She hooked a thumb in the general direction of the lobby. “There are representatives from every major casino in Macau out there. Plus the press. It’s a goddamned deathwatch. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against the press, and a lot of them love Jake, but they’re reporters, with their noses in the wind, just waiting for that first whiff of blood. We need to put on a good face. A little mianzi of our own. Business as usual.”
“Okay.” If he had to lie to the press, at least it would be for his country. “Then what?”
“Then I get Jake out of town. Away from prying eyes.”
“What’s your timetable.”
“Two days,” she answered. “Maybe three. I need to get the two of you up to speed on the Pearl before leaving.”
Kyra stared incredulously at her mother, as if this were the greatest foolishness she had ever heard. “You don’t really think I’m going to stay here if you’re taking Daddy to Bangkok?”
“What I think is not important,” Billie answered, her voice taking on an edge. “It’s what your father would expect.”
“Don’t play that card, Mother. You don’t know—”
“Yes, Kyra, I do. This is crunch time, your father’s down, and it’s time you stepped into the ring.”
There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence, then Kyra looked at Simon and smiled ruefully, like someone trapped in a dental chair. “Hell of a choice, a prizefighter or a nun.”
Billie glanced back and forth between them. “A nun?”
“Simon suggested I get on board the Rynerson Express, or retire to a nunnery in the French Alps.”
“Aaah.” Billie nodded approvingly. “Simon’s a very smart man. So, what’s your decision, little girl? You getting into the ring, or should we shave your head and call you Sister?”
Kyra took a deep breath and expelled it: the sound of surrender. “What do you want me to do?”
“Whatever it takes. We’ve only got four weeks to get the Pearl open.”
“But I don’t know anything about the resort business.” She gave Simon a sidelong glance. “Neither of us do.”
“You don’t need to,” Billie answered. “The management team is in place. They’re good people, ready and willing to do the job. Unfortunately—” She glanced again toward her husband. “—the taipan is down, and you have to take his place.”
C HAPTER E IGHT
Hospitalar Centro Conde São Januário de Macau
Friday, 29 June 02:55:16 GMT +0800
The hospital had converted the staff dining room into a private waiting area for the unexpected onslaught of visitors, all of whom glowed a sickly shade of green in the reflected glare of the fluorescent lights and baby-shit-yellow walls. As Billie entered the room, Kyra and Simon a step behind, the weary murmur of conversation dissolved into a hushed silence, everyone expecting to hear the final death knell for Big Jake Rynerson.
Billie eased in behind a small lectern at the front of the room, adjusted the microphone, then looked up and scanned the somewhat bizarre gathering: the captains of Macau gaming, all middle-aged men, most of them dressed in expensive, lightweight summer suits; and the media, a mixture of electronic and print, male and female, young and old, most of
“It was. I don’t like to talk about it.”
Whether her back-off warning was intentional or not, Simon realized there were some answers he would have to obtain on his own. “So what can we do to help?”
“The President is depending on us. You have to stop these accidents. We have to make the deadline.”
You, not exactly what he wanted to hear—that he was now responsible for holding together a trade alliance he wasn’t aware existed until ten minutes ago. “Where do we start?”
“With a good show.” She hooked a thumb in the general direction of the lobby. “There are representatives from every major casino in Macau out there. Plus the press. It’s a goddamned deathwatch. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against the press, and a lot of them love Jake, but they’re reporters, with their noses in the wind, just waiting for that first whiff of blood. We need to put on a good face. A little mianzi of our own. Business as usual.”
“Okay.” If he had to lie to the press, at least it would be for his country. “Then what?”
“Then I get Jake out of town. Away from prying eyes.”
“What’s your timetable.”
“Two days,” she answered. “Maybe three. I need to get the two of you up to speed on the Pearl before leaving.”
Kyra stared incredulously at her mother, as if this were the greatest foolishness she had ever heard. “You don’t really think I’m going to stay here if you’re taking Daddy to Bangkok?”
“What I think is not important,” Billie answered, her voice taking on an edge. “It’s what your father would expect.”
“Don’t play that card, Mother. You don’t know—”
“Yes, Kyra, I do. This is crunch time, your father’s down, and it’s time you stepped into the ring.”
There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence, then Kyra looked at Simon and smiled ruefully, like someone trapped in a dental chair. “Hell of a choice, a prizefighter or a nun.”
Billie glanced back and forth between them. “A nun?”
“Simon suggested I get on board the Rynerson Express, or retire to a nunnery in the French Alps.”
“Aaah.” Billie nodded approvingly. “Simon’s a very smart man. So, what’s your decision, little girl? You getting into the ring, or should we shave your head and call you Sister?”
Kyra took a deep breath and expelled it: the sound of surrender. “What do you want me to do?”
“Whatever it takes. We’ve only got four weeks to get the Pearl open.”
“But I don’t know anything about the resort business.” She gave Simon a sidelong glance. “Neither of us do.”
“You don’t need to,” Billie answered. “The management team is in place. They’re good people, ready and willing to do the job. Unfortunately—” She glanced again toward her husband. “—the taipan is down, and you have to take his place.”
C HAPTER E IGHT
Hospitalar Centro Conde São Januário de Macau
Friday, 29 June 02:55:16 GMT +0800
The hospital had converted the staff dining room into a private waiting area for the unexpected onslaught of visitors, all of whom glowed a sickly shade of green in the reflected glare of the fluorescent lights and baby-shit-yellow walls. As Billie entered the room, Kyra and Simon a step behind, the weary murmur of conversation dissolved into a hushed silence, everyone expecting to hear the final death knell for Big Jake Rynerson.
Billie eased in behind a small lectern at the front of the room, adjusted the microphone, then looked up and scanned the somewhat bizarre gathering: the captains of Macau gaming, all middle-aged men, most of them dressed in expensive, lightweight summer suits; and the media, a mixture of electronic and print, male and female, young and old, most of
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