Authors: Paul Lally
Ride the Titanic! (51 page)
She tenses but says nothing. Grayson points an accusatory finger like a pistol. ‘Want to know why you screwed up, Jess? Do you?? Because you’re like most of the geezers in Vegas. You’re too damn old and too damn busy thinking about hanging up your spurs and heading for Florida, when you should have caught them instead.’
He turns on Cheng. ‘And where do government folks like you go in China when they retire?’
Mr. Cheng considers this for a moment, and says softly, ‘Zhuhai is quite nice.’
‘One of your special ‘economic zones’ is it?’
‘It’s quite metropolitan and sophisticated.’
‘You don’t say.’ Grayson grins like a wolf about to bite. ‘What makes you think the Chinese government is going to let you live long enough to retire there, considering how you fucked up even worse than Jess?’
While Mr. Cheng absorbs this blow without blinking, I say, ‘What the hell is all this about?’
‘Thought you’d never ask.’ Grayson yanks a file from his briefcase like a dentist pulling a tooth and slides it over. ‘Remember my bad guys? The geezers from the Stone Age?’
Xia says, ‘Vividly.’
‘Chump change compared to the real bad guys behind your disaster. Get ready for a shock.’
I open the folder and two photos fall out. Mug shots. A young Chinese woman and a young Western man. Maybe late twenties, tops. The woman, plain-faced, eyes dulled, stares at the camera, stunned. The young man looks the same; facing a harsh reality only he can imagine.
Xia examines the girl’s photograph, turns to Minister Chen and rattles off some accusatory Mandarin. He stiffens, reluctantly nods, and answers in a soft, conciliatory voice.
Grayson says, ‘Ms. Zhu, my guess is that you just tore the minister a new asshole – pardon the expression – for pissing in your soup – pardon that one too.’
Xia says, ‘I asked him if the Chinese government was directly involved in this.’
Grayson smiles. ‘What’d he say?’
‘He said yes.’
‘Mr. Sullivan, you have the floor.’
‘To do what? I have no idea what’s going on here. Who are these people?’
‘I want you to ask – no, demand – that Minister Samuelson here, confess to you that the United States Commerce Department was equally involved – no, wait a second – let’s cut to the chase. I feel lucky tonight.’ He snatches back the young man’s photo. ‘Jess, tell Mr. Sullivan what you discovered about the accused when you finally got off your lazy ass and did some detective work.’
‘He’s more than accused,’ she says. ‘He’s under arrest because he was responsible, along with four other idiots in his department.’
‘You mean ‘house arrest,’ Grayson says. ‘The United States Government is hardly going to admit this much egg on its greedy face. By the way, which department did these jokers come from in your commerce shop?’
‘Industry and Security.’
‘Figures. They’d have the clearance and computer programming access. That the only department involved?’
‘So far.’
‘Playing these games for how long?’
‘Four years as best we can determine.’
From her body language, Minister Samuelson is raising the drawbridge and preparing for a siege, so I jump over her moat and say menacingly, ‘If you don’t tell us exactly what’s going on, I’ll make sure you spend your retirement money on emergency room bills instead of Palm Beach.’
‘He means it,’ Grayson says softly. ‘I’ve seen this gentleman in action.’
Samuelson and Cheng exchange reluctant glances, neither one wanting to take the first step. Grayson prods genially, ‘Jess, do the talking in English. Mandarin and me don’t get along.’
In a monotone that would impress the most bureaucratic of bureaucrats she begins. ‘Although our respective investigations remain ongoing, I am authorized to inform you that only recently did it come to our attention that certain personnel in the Bureau of Industry and Security department were actively engaged in first promoting and then escalating what you might describe as a. . . . a. . .’ She looks to Grayson for help.
‘Call a spade a spade, Jess. Those cyber-punks of yours in Industry and Security were fighting a trade war with their counterparts in China, while the rest of the world thought we were at peace.’
She sighs, her shoulders slump. ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’
‘United States versus China,’ Grayson says. ‘Right, Cheng, old buddy?’
A stately nod. Then it’s his turn at the confessional. ‘A similarly motivated faction of young people in our ministry were equally responsible. Some would say rightly so, considering the fact that the United States has denied China access to certain lucrative world markets.’
Samuelson comes out swinging. ‘You’re full of shit, Cheng. This entire
Titanic
disaster happened because a bunch of idiot computer geeks on both sides hacked the living hell out of what was a decent working arrangement between your guys and my guys, and look where it got us. An even worse disaster.’
‘That you were both covering up,’ Grayson says smoothly. ‘Until I threatened to charge your respective governments with the attempted murder of hundreds of innocent people.’
Cheng holds up a delicate finger in nervous protest. ‘I was under the impression that we already settled this issue.’
‘You settled it with me by admitting the truth, but these two folks here are the owners.’ Grayson indicates Xia and me. ‘They’ve got to be on board with the deal or it’s no dice.’
‘Owners of what?’ I say. ‘A pile of scrap metal in an empty hole and a deserted hotel?’
Minister Samuelson comes to sergeant-major attention. ‘The United States Government is prepared to fully restore your damaged property to its original condition.’
‘Ever try fixing a damaged reputation?’
Minister Cheng chimes in. ‘The Chinese government is also prepared to fully compensate yours and Ms. Zhu’s company for any lost revenues that would have incurred had this. . . unfortunate incident not occurred.’
‘That’s not what Michael means.’ Xia says. ‘Money can’t fix something like this. It just can’t.’
Silence falls over us like a wool blanket. The Las Vegas skyline has come and gone twice as the
SkyHi
continues its slow rotation, and so have my feelings similarly ebbed and flowed, during the past two years. It’s one thing to fail, fair and square. I’ve done it a thousand times and will a thousand times again. But to have outside forces be the cause, yet have it perceived as your own fault is a bitter lesson.
Grayson stands and stretches. ‘These cupola seats are killing my back.’
Minister Samuelson says, ‘Then why meet in this ridiculous place?’
‘Because people don’t come to this town just to gamble and eat and swim and take in a show, and get laid if they’re lucky. They come here to be part of the story. Because in Vegas it’s ALL about the story. Magic acts, musicals, street crazies, whores, nutty taxi rides – you name it we got it. And when you two dignified ministers head home to report to your government cronies, you’ll tell them about being high up in the sky inside some kind of wacky Ferris wheel on steroids, and how amazing Las Vegas was. I know you will. Everybody does. And right now, every person wandering along the strip, half-drunk, half-crazy – whatever – see ‘em down there? I guarantee you every single one of them is talking about
Ride the Titanic
, and how they were here when it went down and didn’t come back, am I right, Mr. Sullivan?’
I nod.
‘So. . .’ Grayson bends over and grunts as he touches his toes to stretch his painful back muscles. Then he straightens up. ‘Okay, you two kids, interested in finding out how your precious
Titanic’s
going to come back again, along with your reputations?’
I nod. He turns to the ministers. ‘What about you guys? Want a way out that saves your sorry asses, and the jobs that go with them, not to mention YOUR reputations too?’
A tilt of a head, a raised eyebrow, a nod.
Grayson grins. ‘You’re going to love this.’ He pulls out another photograph from his briefcase and waves it in the air like a talisman. ‘Meet the official bad guy.’
White hair, furrowed brow, a tan, weathered face with ice-blue eyes and a nose like a baked potato. A guy who’s been around the block a few times and can make you regret the day you were born if you ever cross him.
‘Who’s he?’ I say.
‘Aldolfo Rizzo; financier, multi-billionaire and secret partner in half the casinos on the strip, and also the son-of-a-bitch who sunk your ship and then skipped town with the FBI and CIA and DEA and the USA and a whole bunch of other acronyms in hot pursuit, and by God, justice will be served on the bastard who sabotaged
Ride the Titanic.
’
I say, ‘You’re making this up, right?’
‘Of course. Nothing’s real in Vegas.’
‘It’s a story.’
‘One I strongly recommend that both American and Chinese governments buy into, unless they want us to go public and blow the whistle on their unbelievable incompetence. You want that Minister Cheng?’
He shakes his head.
‘How about you, Minister Samuelson?’
She picks at an invisible something on her business suit. ‘Your ‘Mr. Rizzo’ seems a plausible solution to our problem.’
‘’Plausible solution, my ass. It’s brilliant and you know it. No embarrassing diplomatic bullshit, no congressional hearings, no heads rolling – yours included – no hanging kids in Tiananmen Square. Not when all roads lead to Rizzo.’
Cheng says, ‘My government will punish the real transgressors, make no mistake.’
‘But not hang them – that’s part of the deal. Fair punishment, not the gallows. Agreed?’
A silent shrug and a tiny nod.
‘And what about the United States?’
‘We don’t hang people.’
‘No, but you sure as hell know how to ‘special order’ them out of circulation.’
‘I promise you those responsible will be appropriately but not unduly punished.’
‘Deal,’ Grayson hands us the photo. ‘Meet your villain.’
Xia says, ‘Where did you find him?’
‘I could say we photo-shopped him from a bunch of actors’ headshots, but does it really matter?’
‘I suppose not. Who’s ‘we’ by the way?’
He put his finger to his lips. ‘’What happens in Vegas. . .’ Right Jess?’
He grins at Minister Samuelson, but she looks the other away, unable to meet his gaze for some unspoken, complicit reason. Smiling, he continues. ‘One good thing about governments; when you catch them red-handed, fucking things up, and you threaten to tell the world? They un-fuck them fast.’
He touches his toes again, grunts, and stretches his back. ‘So, what do you say, Ministers Cheng and Samuelson? Are we good to go, or do you want me to turn loose the media dogs of war on D.C. and Beijing? I’m fine either way. Haven’t had this much fun in years.’
They exchange a meaningful look, and then nod as one.
I say, ‘How does the bad guy thing play out?’
‘Think of it this way. Playing the Rizzo card is like playing a country music song backwards; your girl comes back, your truck comes back, your dog comes back. . . and thanks to the combined financial clout of the United States and Chinese governments, your ride comes back, your hotel comes back, Mr. Rizzo takes the heat for being the nasty bad guy, you get a clean bill of safety, and
Ride the Titanic
goes on and on.’
Xia says, ‘And if we don’t agree?’
‘I don’t know how you play the game in China, but America loves happy endings.’
And that’s what we get in spades. A six-month, all-hands-on-deck, money-is-no-object salvage, restoration, and overhaul. As for the
White Star Grand Hotel
, it never suffers empty rooms during the ride’s hiatus, because the media keeps us in a constant spotlight by trumpeting the close calls in their daring, worldwide. . .
SEARCH FOR ADOLFO RIZZO!
As for the
Titanic
, during her restoration she becomes – like
Bellagio’s
fountains – a must-see tourist stop on the strip. Add to this unbeatable publicity, James Cameron’s thrilling
Ride the Titanic
movie trailer stokes the ‘gotta’-see-it’ flames, then its gigantic opening weekend keeps the tide rising and rising, until it launches Xia and me into a perfect media storm that never lets up until our ride is back in business, better than ever.
And me?
Bob Grayson was right; my life comes back, my marriage comes back, and Joe comes back – not forever – but hey, nothing lasts forever, right?
Except the
Titanic.
Paul Lally is a novelist and Emmy award-winning,
Television and film writer/producer/director.
He lives in New Hampshire.
His previous novels are
AMERIKA
and
SILK
Find out what’s coming next at:
or
Write him at: