Free Springboard by Tom Clancy

toward them. He squared his shoulders and smiled. He would spin them a story, and they would serve him as he would have it.

Hanging Garden Apartments
Macao, China
    Lying naked and sweaty upon the bed, Mayli looked up at Locke as he dressed. She smiled. “You know that Wu would probably kill you if he knew we were doing this.”
    Locke smiled in return. “Me? I doubt it. Besides, I am certain that he does know. General Wu did not rise to his current position by being a fool. I imagine that he is having you and me watched—I would in his place. I’d guess he doesn’t care what we do together—as long as we do our jobs.”
    Her smiled vanished, turned into a pout.
    He laughed. “What? You think he is so jealous of your favors that he would kill his partner for indulging in them?
    Wu is a pragmatist. Nothing you and I did today will lessen what you and he do tomorrow. If anything, it might make it better—I’ve shown you some tricks even you didn’t know. Those would be to his benefit, no?”
    She sat up suddenly and threw a pillow at him. “Beast!”
    He laughed as he reached out and caught the pillow in one hand. “That’s not what you said earlier.”
    She smiled. “I cannot stay angry with you, can I?”
    “No. I am too lovable.”
    “No, not lovable. But . . . something.”
    Locke tossed the pillow back at her, not hard, and went back to tying his tie. He had heard that plenty of times: Why do you fancy me? I don’t know, it’s hard to say, exactly. . . .
    As for Wu, Locke was not only sure he was having him followed, he was pretty sure this apartment, for which Wu paid, was bugged. Audio at the least, maybe video. Locke hadn’t bothered to look for the microphones or cameras, but in Wu’s position, he would have made very sure he could verify what Mayli told him about Shing—at least enough of it to feel some confidence. There was probably a recording of Shing and Mayli rolling around on the bed in Wu’s desk, and no doubt he had watched such a thing if it existed.
    Locke’s own performance with Mayli? Certainly nothing to feel insecure about—and no doubt at all much superior to Shing’s rootings . . .
    “When will you return?”
    He finished the Windsor knot and straightened the gray silk tie. Against the lighter gray of his tailored shirt and darker silk jacket, the tie was perfect. There were still some excellent tailors in Hong Kong, and with the British gone for decades, easier to get one whose work you liked. A five-thousand-dollar suit didn’t look that much better than a three-thousand-dollar one to most, but those who knew such things could spot the differences. Clothes might not make the man, but among the rich and powerful, they were badges that identified you as somebody with taste and means.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “But maybe I’ll call you when I do. If I can’t find anybody better.”
    By the time she had thrown the pillow at him again, he was already on his way to the door.

5

Jakarta, Java
Indonesia
    Jay Gridley sat in the back of an open-wall ragtop jitney with fifty other passengers; an oppressive, cloying, heat and humidity wrapped the bus like a sodden blanket. Had they been moving, there would at least have been some hot wind, but the vehicle was, like the hundreds of others he could see on the road, jammed to a full stop. Even the people on bicycles and Segways weren’t moving, and the air was as still as a tomb.
    Around him, the passengers talked to each other in Malay or Bahasa or English, apparently unaffected by their lack of progress.
    Jay shook his head. Whatever VR scenario he conjured, the military’s super-computers were not easy to navigate. The hardware, software, protocols—everything was a pain. Even with full access, delving into these things was as difficult and complex as anything Jay had ever done. The place was a rat’s nest of back alleys and twisted roads, with buildings looming over the narrow streets, far too many people—read