Point of Contact

“You wanted to see us?” Jack asked.

“I heard about last night. Quite disconcerting.”

“For us or for you?”

“Both, of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

Yong shook his head. “Your bad manners haven’t improved, have they? But that brings me precisely to my point. I have found your work and your presence both disruptive and ineffective to my company.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I don’t ‘feel’ that way. This is not a matter of feelings. It’s business. And I’m simply stating a fact.”

“The fact is you really don’t want us here, do you?”

“Have I shown you any discourtesy?”

“That’s not answering my question.”

“My father wishes you to be here, so I wish you to be here.”

“But if your father wasn’t the CEO? If you were? What would you prefer?”

Yong leaned back in his chair. “To be perfectly frank, I’m not sure what advantage there is to partnering with an American company at this time.”

“A massive cash infusion, operating synergies, global brand, and marketing reach. Those don’t sound too disadvantageous.”

“All short-term stimulants. In the long run, America is in decline, and America’s role in Asia is diminishing each day.”

“While China’s is on the rise,” Paul said.

“Unquestionably. But I wouldn’t seek a merger with a Chinese firm, either. Both of your countries are going the way of the dodo bird. You’re both too large, too socialist, too complex, and too corrupt. The future belongs to small nation-states like Singapore, led by enlightened visionaries like Lee Kuan Yew.”

Or Yong Fairchild, Jack thought.

“Only nine percent of Americans trust their Congress, but seventy-four percent of Singaporeans trust their government. And if Americans don’t trust their own government, why should anybody else?”

Yong hit a sore point with Jack. His father was working hard to restore America’s trust in its government by being honest with the American people and always trying to do what was best for the country, even at his own political expense. He’d read in a political science course at Georgetown that in 1964, seventy-seven percent of Americans believed that the federal government could be trusted to do the right thing most of the time. America’s political class had squandered that great legacy. It was going to take decades to restore it.

“I wonder why your father is so keen on the merger, then,” Jack asked.

“He’s old school, raised on his father’s white British knee, hearing stories of the heroic resistance against the cruel yellow invaders from Nippon.”

“You’re saying your father is a racist? He’s half Asian himself.”

“My father is an Anglophile, and pro-Western to the core. That doesn’t make him a racist. It just means he isn’t a realist, despite his great wisdom in so many other areas.”

“We appreciate your candor. Perhaps we need to make this known to the Marin Aerospace board. They may think twice about a merger with a company with a hostile future CEO.”

“If you report any such thing, I’ll deny it and I’ll sue you over it. What I’ve shared are merely private thoughts. I adamantly support the merger and anything else my father wishes. Am I perfectly clear?”

“Yes.”

“If anything, I should call Senator Rhodes myself and tell him how the two of you have completely overstepped yourselves and killed the deal.”

That won’t be good for Gerry or Hendley Associates, Jack thought. As much as Yong obviously didn’t want the merger, a lot of other folks did. Jack knew he needed to back down rather than give Yong the excuse he needed to kill the deal. Suddenly, the politics of this white-side assignment seemed more difficult than dodging bullets in the North Sea, and nearly as hazardous to his career.

“I apologize if I’ve said or done anything to offend you. I’m just trying to do my job.”

Paul nodded his agreement. “We’re just doing a quick, standard fraud audit, and we’re trying to keep as low a profile as possible.”

“So then what was all this nonsense with the police last night?”

“We have no idea. It was bizarre, to say the least. Good thing your sister showed up just in the nick of time.”

Yong cocked his head. “What are you implying?”

Jack wasn’t implying anything. It seemed pretty damned obvious. Was he supposed to believe the phony police raid was pure coincidence? “Nothing at all. Thanks to her intervention, your country avoided an embarrassing diplomatic incident with my country on the eve of a historic summit.”

“My sister is a remarkable woman and fiercely loyal to her family. But she’s also no fool.” Yong grinned. “As amusing as it would have been to see the two of you caned publicly, it would be wrong. She knows you and Mr. Brown aren’t drug smugglers.”

“Good to know, because whoever was stupid enough to pull that idiotic stunt last night isn’t bright enough to understand that it won’t discourage us from doing our jobs while we’re here.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And we are genuinely grateful that she got us out of that jam.”