A few minutes later they loaded into a black luxury Range Rover and navigated the heavy airport traffic. The windshield wipers slapped away a light rain. Paul was visibly nervous about the fact they were driving on the wrong—English—side of the road but didn’t say anything.

So close to Malaysia and Indonesia, Jack was half expecting a Third World megacity, overcrowded and dysfunctional, until he did his research on the plane. From the highway he could see the ultramodern, Western-style metropolis and its towering skyline. Most of the cars around them in the bumper-to-bumper traffic were late-model vehicles, many of them bearing luxury name plates like Lexus and Mercedes. He could’ve been on a freeway in Los Angeles or New York, except the cars and roads in both of those places were in far worse condition.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve changed your plans,” Lian said from the front seat.

“We’re not heading for the hotel?” Paul asked.

“You won’t be staying at a hotel. I’ve made better arrangements for you.”

“That’s very generous of you, but it’s not necessary,” Jack said. What he really wanted was to fall into a bed after a shower and a shave, or at least a change of clothes, before meeting the CEO of Dalfan Technologies.

“Of course it isn’t necessary, but it’s my father’s wish.”

Jack and Paul exchanged a look, surprised by the hostility in her voice.

“I hope the two of you are not too tired from your journey. My father wishes to meet with both of you this evening.”

“We’re happy to meet him. That’s why we’re here,” Jack said.

“Good. I trust it won’t be too unpleasant.”

—

Twenty-five minutes later they found themselves just west of the Singapore Botanic Gardens, in one of the oldest and wealthiest neighborhoods in the island nation-state.

The two-lane road was lined with dense foliage and trees on both sides. Steel gates broke up the tree line occasionally, and through them Jack spotted large, modern homes nestled far back from the road. The area reminded him of the one-percent zip codes in Washington, D.C., and elsewhere around the country he’d had the pleasure of visiting.

Two guards stood discreetly in the shadows of a broad entryway. The fortified gate slowly opened for the Range Rover as the guards waved them through. The Range Rover’s tires burbled on the driveway’s cobblestones as it rolled up the slight incline toward the mansion, nestled inside an expansive, well-manicured lawn. Off to the side of the house stood a tall, sprawling tree like an oak with long, sturdy branches and a thick trunk.

“What kind of tree is that?” Paul asked. “Must be seventy feet tall.”