BooksBarbecue
Back Point of Contact
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
  3. PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
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  30. 27
  31. 28
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  38. 35
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  40. 37
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  42. 39
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  44. 41
  45. 42
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  55. 52
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  60. 57
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  82. 79
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

Dr. Fairchild was clearly annoyed at the spectacle but tried to hide it behind a forced smile. “Come in, please. I know how tired you both are after that long journey. I’ve made it too many times myself. We have dinner prepared for you.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir,” Paul said.

“It’s a humble meal, but I hope it will satisfy.”

The i8 screeched to a halt behind the Range Rover and the gull-wing doors lifted. The driver leaped out and dashed over to the porch. “Sorry I’m late, Father. A small emergency at the office.”

Dr. Fairchild’s smile disappeared. He began to say something but held his tongue. “Gentlemen, this is my son, Yong Fairchild, the chief financial officer of Dalfan Technologies. Yong, this is Paul Brown and Jack Ryan from Hendley Associates.”

Yong was taller than his father and as handsome as his sister was beautiful. Broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, the CFO carried himself like a fighter. Like his sister, he owned a firm grip and smiled as he looked Jack straight in the eye.

“We’ve been looking forward to your arrival,” Yong said. “I hope the two of you will forgive my lateness.”

“We just arrived. It’s not a problem at all,” Jack said.

Dr. Fairchild pointed toward the front door. “Now that we’re all finally here, we should eat.”

—

Dr. Fairchild took the tall leather chair at the end of the expansive table, flanked on either side by his son and daughter. Jack sat next to Yong and Paul next to Lian. Two Indonesians, a husband and wife, began the service by bringing in the dishes as a third servant poured ice water into crystal glassware. The dining room, like the rest of the house, was modern with traditional touches, featuring dark wood timbers and white walls. The architecture and furnishings felt both tropical and colonial but not garishly so. It was an homage to history and the local culture, and impeccably stylish.

Dr. Fairchild raised a glass. “To our honored guests, and to our two countries. Peace and prosperity for us all.”

“Thank you,” Jack said. Paul agreed.

They feasted like kings on melon-and-mango salad, chili crabs, xiao long bao, pork rib soup, curry rice, tandoori chicken, and other exotic delectables, each dish a reflection of the wildly diverse cultures that inhabited Singapore—British, Malaysian, Chinese, Indian, and Indonesian. In a nod to his proud English heritage, Dr. Fairchild served frosty porters and Tanqueray gin.

Dr. Fairchild began the evening’s conversation formally, lightly touching on global economic conditions, the Federal Reserve’s latest meeting, the Bank of Japan, and other financially oriented subjects—something he knew Jack and Paul were familiar with. Lian and Yong offered few questions and even fewer opinions, allowing their father to drive the discussion. Jack felt like it was a warm-up to a sparring match.