WATER WORKS: 14) RAT TRAP

Sunday Funnies: A Novel of Intrigue, Lunacy & H2O

15.

Zorya rolls up bright and early next morning in a Mitsubishi Montero.

"Sleep well?" She flicks blonde curls from a lightly freckled face.

"Yeah. The sake at the sushi bar next door put me to sleep. Who would've believed, good sushi in New Mexico."

"Not so surprising." Zorya is not defensive but matter-of-fact. "Santa Fe is very international for a small city."

"Do you have time for a tour?"

"Sure."

Zorya wheels six blocks west.

"This is The Plaza." Zorya motions through the windshield at a wide-open square. "The center of town. Over there." She points to the square's north side. "The old Governor's Palace. That's where the Native Americans sell hammered silver jewelry every morning."

"Is that mostly who lives here?" I ask, tongue planted firmly in cheek.

Zorya shakes her head, smiling. "We have all kinds: Native Indians, ranchers, hippies, rednecks, artists, Tibetan Buddhists, Benedictine monks, Europeans, rich heiresses. People from all around the world settle here."

"Didn't I see Sikhs in El Dorado?"

"Q-tips."

"Who-what?"

"We call them Q-tips. From a cult called Sikh Dharma. We get all kinds."

"When did you come here?"

"Me?" Zorya laughs. Her eyes sparkle like her father's. "I was born here. I went to Santa Fe Prep, then the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. Look over there." Zorya points to a small adobe structure topped by a cross. "That's San Miguel, the oldest church in the United States."

"C'mon, what about Plymouth and Jamestown?"

"The Spanish settled New Mexico before the pilgrims arrived at Plymouth Rock. San Miguel was built in 1610."

Final stop: Aquatech's plant on the southwest fringe of the city.

Zorya points to a large warehouse. "That's where we assemble our units. Come this way."

I follow Zorya into a large bungalow. Several of the staff greet her. She points me to her father's office at the rear.

"Ah," says Stefan, putting his phone down. "You arrive."

"Have you made the call?" I ask.

"No," says Stefan. "I wait for you. My secretary finds the number."

I take a chair and face Stefan across his desk. He taps a series of digits with his thick index finger. "It rings," whispers Stefan, winking.

"My name is Stefan Zagora," he announces into the mouthpiece. "Aquatech." He listens. "Yes, I hold.” Stefan covers the mouthpiece with his large hand. "They look for someone."

"They're patching you elsewhere," I guess. "Nobody lives in Jersey except nominee administrators in search of an easy, quiet life."

Ninety seconds later, Stefan's eyes brighten. "Yes. Stefan Zagora, Aquatech. I read your proposal again. Maybe I am interested." Stefan listens. "Yes, yes. You come, we talk." A pause. "Tomorrow?" Stefan glances at me. "Tomorrow okay. What time? Good." Stefan disconnects.

"He couldn't be far," I say. "Must be here in the States. What's his name?"

"Armand," said Stefan. "Armand Sieff."

"Sonofabitch."

"You know this man?"

16.

Stefan tours me around his plant. It is my hope to absorb enough essence to bullshit my way through Bishkek.

Zorya offers further instruction. Things like BOOT (build, own, operate, transfer), BOT (build, operate, transfer), and BOO (build, own, operate).

It confirms my worst fear: Water is as dry as the Aral Sea.

17.

"Send him in," Stefan instructs his secretary.

When Armand Sieff sees my grinning face his eyes harden to stone.

"Armand!" I rise from my chair. "Good to see you, buddy!" I shake his hand effusively with both of mine. "Stefan said you were expected, but I didn't believe him!"

Numbed, Armand backs his butt into a chair and remains silent. If he was smart, and he is, Sieff will have already guessed what I’m doing in Stefan's office. But he says nothing.

Brain-freeze.

"I'm sorry." It is Stefan who finally speaks "It was too late to reach you, Mr. Sieff. So here you are. And I must inform you that I have decided to sell half of Aquatech to Mr. Sandak's Enki Group."

Sieff looks as though he is about to toss lunch. He can scarcely believe what is happening here—and what it implies to his general scheming.

"Of course," I say to Sieff, "we'd be delighted to have Dulci Acqua as a partner, maybe cut you in for a quarter slice."

Sieff ignores this overture. "I must make a call," he says, looking at Stefan. He plucks a cell phone from his coat pocket and steps into the relative privacy of the corridor.

Stefan glances at me, unsure.

I smile. We wait.

Sieff returns and retakes his seat. "Dulci Acqua is not interested in a quarter share," he addresses Stefan, not me. "But we are willing to negotiate a higher price than Mr. Sandak is offering—for your whole company."

"Cash?" asks Stefan.

"Better." Sieff curls his lips into a cheesy smile. "Equity in Dulci Acqua."

Stefan wants to explode, but he remains cool, as we had agreed. He says, "I prefer Enki's cash offer."

Sieff steals a snippy glance at me, then refocuses on Stefan. "Dr. Zagora, you must know that the Enki Group is a newcomer to the water industry. They know investment, not water. On the other hand, water is our business." Sieff looks back at me. "No offense, Mr. Sandak, but I'm sure you would agree with me."

I shrug. "Call me Jay."

"I like it this way." Stefan smiles. "I know water. Enki Group invests in me, my knowledge."

Sieff pops his briefcase open, draws a document and plops it on Stefan's desk. "In case you change your mind."

"I won't." Stefan reclines in his swivel chair, hands butterflied behind his head. "I'm sorry I waste your time."

Sieff gives us each a nod—a nod that says, mom and pop in Kyrgyzstan will hear about this.

Which, of course, is precisely what I’m gaming for.