"And you're going down when?"

"I was just about to leave for the airport."

"I accept your kind invitation," Lowell said. "I'll fly down either tonight or first thing in the morning."

"And why does that also make me suspicious?"

"Because you are insecure," Lowell said. "I've told you that many times before."

"What the hell do you want, Craig?"

"I just had a call from Jean-Philippe Portet," Lowell said. "Mr. J. Richard Leonard of the Gresham Investment Corporation just called him, and wants to present their proposal to him tomorrow."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I think he could use some advice in dealing with them."

"He's at Ocean Reef?"

"Yeah."

"Why me?"

"Hey, Porter, you're the one who's been whining about not being able to properly express your gratitude. . . ."

"I meant, why don't I bring someone-Hoover Daniel, for example, he's our legal VP-down with me?"

"Christ, if you can't negotiate a contract, Porter, what are you doing sitting at Grandpa's desk?"

"I want the very best for Jean-Philippe, Craig, is what I mean."

"Jean-Philippe will take your help as a friend," Lowell said. "I think he might say 'thanks but no thanks' about Daniel."

"Yeah," Porter Craig agreed grudgingly. "What do I do? Walk over to his house and say I understand you need some contract advice and here I am, you lucky fellow?"

"I'm going to call him right back," Lowell said, "and tell him you and I are going to be down there, and suggest he ask you to sit in on the negotiations. I think he'll be grateful. If he isn't, I'll tell him what a dumb shit he's being."

[ TWO ].

33 Ocean View Drive The Ocean Reef Club Key Largo, Florida 1530 30 January 1965 "Where's Jean-Philippe?" Lieutenant Colonel Craig Lowell asked when Porter Craig, in tennis whites, came into his home and found his son and cousin floating in truck tire inner tubes in the pool.

"Having a shower," Porter said. "He will be here directly."

"So what happened?"

"That will have to wait until I have my shower, and Jean-Philippe shows up," Porter said. "Suffice it to say, for the moment, that I am going to stop by the kitchen and make sure there is champagne on ice."

"It must have gone well," Craig Lowell said to Lieutenant Geoff Craig. "Your old man is never that happy unless he has evicted a widow, or otherwise destroyed somebody financially."

"We didn't do too bad," Porter Craig said. "I'll tell you that."

He walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

"I would now like to propose a toast," Porter Craig said, raising his champagne glass fifteen minutes later. He was now wearing a short-sleeved shirt of many colors and pink slacks. Captain Jean-Philippe Portet was wearing a polo shirt and seersucker slacks. Colonel Lowell and Lieutenant Portet were still in their bathing suits.

"To our very good friend, Jean-Philippe, the new president of Intercontinental Air Holding, Ltd.," Porter Craig said, "a Bahamas corporation which is going to make everybody a little money."

"The translation of that is that your old man just screwed the CIA," Lowell said.

"You remember Granddad always saying that it's very hard to cheat an honest man?" Porter said.

"And God knows, he tried often enough," Lowell said.

Geoff and Jean-Philippe chuckled.

"That's not true, and you know it," Porter said.

"Are you just going to stand there and smirk in self-satisfaction, Porter?" Lowell asked. "Or tell us what happened?"

"He's entitled to smirk, Craig," Jean-Philippe said. "He was magnificent!"

"What the hell happened, for Christ's sake?" Geoff asked.

"I want you to hear this, son," Porter said.

"Hear what?" Lowell egged him.

"The greatest advantages one can have in negotiations are for the other party to think (a) that your position is weaker than it actually is and (b) that your knowledge of the situation is less than his and (c) that you are not nearly as smart as he is. We had all three going for us."

"Leonard showed up with a lawyer," Jean-Philippe said. "A fellow named Eichold. He said he was there to help me explain the details of what they were going to propose."

"How did you explain Chubby here?" Lowell asked.

"I told them I was his tennis buddy and down-the-road neighbor, " Porter said, visibly pleased with himself. "I told them I was in real estate, and had handled a contract or two, and that he asked me to sit in."

"Craig," Helene Craig said, "I've asked you again and again not to call him that."

"Put him on a diet, Helene," Lowell replied, then asked: "What did they propose?"

"What they've done is set up a Bahamas corporation," Porter explained, "Intercontinental Air Holding, Ltd., capitalized at three million, already paid in. They used not quite two million to purchase all the assets of Intercontinental Air, a Delaware Corporation, based at Miami. The assets consist primarily of a Boeing 707 and two Douglas DC-7s, all configured for cargo, and a lease on a hangar with office space. Getting to the bottom line, the people who owned Intercontinental Air walked away with about half a million, since the debt on the aircraft was about 1.5 million. "

"This is going over my head," Mrs. Helene Craig said.

"All you have to do, my darling," Porter said, "is sit there and be beautiful and make sure the champagne flows."

"Go to hell, Porter," she said.

"They have also set up a Delaware corporation," Porter went on, "Intercontinental Air Cargo, Inc., which is a wholly owned subsidiary of Intercontinental Air, Ltd., and at the moment has zero assets."

"What shape is the 707 in?" Lowell asked.

"So-so. The engines are half gone," Jean-Philippe said. "And it's getting pretty close to its annual. It was one of the airplanes I looked at when I went out there . . . before Leonard found me. The DC-7s are pretty well down the road to rebuild."

"Leonard didn't know that," Porter said. "I mean he didn't know there was as much useful life left in the 707 as Jean-Philippe did."

"What did they propose?" Lowell asked.

"What they proposed was thirty-three percent to Jean-Philippe for his services as president," Porter said. "What we agreed on was thirty-five percent to Jean-Philippe, who will be in any case the chief operating officer, subject to the orders of the president, who will be elected by the stockholders."

"You're losing me here," Lowell said. "They'll have sixty-five percent of the votes."

"Jean-Philippe has the option of purchasing additional stock, when and if the sale of Air Simba goes through, before a sixty-day period has elapsed. They were happy to grant that, inasmuch as they think Mobutu has Jean-Philippe over a barrel, and there won't be any sale within sixty days, even at distress prices," Porter said.

"And?"

"Just as soon as the contracts are signed-and they can't back out; we have a memorandum of agreement; they wouldn't want us to take that to federal court for noncompliance-Jean-Philippe hands them a check for a million . . . maybe, just to be sure, a million point five. That gives him enough votes to elect himself president. "

"Where does he get the million point five? From us?" Lowell asked.

"Yes, of course. We loan him a million point five against Air Simba. And then we wait Mobutu out. As long as Mobutu eventually comes through with a million five, and Air Simba's worth, bottom figure, at least twice that, we can wash our hands. For an investment of a million five, plus his services, Jean-Philippe gets control of Intercontinental Air, Ltd., with assets of over two million. "

"They're going to want to buy aircraft for the new company," Lowell said. "What about that?"

"That can be handled in several ways," Porter said. "As president, Jean-Philippe will have the authority to either borrow money to purchase aircraft, to lease aircraft, or to offer additional stock to raise the necessary capital. What I think will happen is that if President Portet is unwilling to offer additional stock, and the stockholders go along with him-"

"And he will have the votes to say 'no way', won't he?" Lowell said, smiling. "Porter, I take back most of the unkind things I've been saying about you over the years."

"-Mr. Leonard's associates will have the choice between leasing aircraft, which I don't think they'll want to do, because people who lease aircraft want to know where they'll be flown and why," Porter went on, "or finding someone from whom to borrow the money, who won't ask questions." He paused and smiled. "I have always wanted to borrow money from my government at a favorable rate."

"Give Chubby both ears and the tail," Lowell said.

"The trick is to give Jean-Philippe at least fifty-one percent of the stock immediately after we sign the contracts," Porter said.

"I owe you more than both ears and the tail," Jean-Philippe said.

"You don't owe me a goddamn thing," Porter Craig said. "You're family, Jean-Philippe."

"If someone will hand us the bottle," Lowell said, "Lieutenant Craig and myself will drink to that."

[THREE].

Over the River Plate (Argentine-Uruguayan Border) 2245 2 February 1965 "Buenos Aires approach control," WOJG Enrico de la Santiago said into his microphone, "this is U.S. Army Eight-seven-seven, a Beechcraft Twin Bonanza, at 7,000 over the River Plate with Buenos Aires in sight. Request approach and landing at Ezeiza, please."

"U.S. Army Eight-seven-seven, contact Campo de Mayo approach control on 122.9."

"Buenos Aires, Army Eight-seven-seven, be advised that we are international. IFR from Porto Alegre, Brazil. We have been instructed to request Customs and Immigration services at Ezeiza."

"U.S. Army Eight-seven-seven, you have been diverted to Campo de Mayo. Contact Campo de Mayo approach control on 122.9."

"Understand 122.9," de la Santiago said. "Thank you."

He began to tune his radio.

"What the hell is that all about?" Jack Portet asked.

"More important, where is is Campo de Mayo?" de la Santiago said. Campo de Mayo?" de la Santiago said.

"Johnny," Jack called, "we have been diverted to Campo de Mayo."

Oliver got out of his seat and knelt between the pilot's and copilot's seats as Jack searched for an approach chart to Campo de Mayo.

"There it is," Oliver said, pointing to a Jeppesen Aerial Chart.

"Right in the middle of a restricted zone, and clearly marked closed to all but ArgMil traffic," Jack added.

"Mayo approach control, U.S. Army Eight-seven-seven."

"Ocho-siete-siete aqui, Campo de Mayo, cual es su posicion? "

"Dos mil metros sobre el Rio de la Plata Creo que diviso Jorge Newbery."

"Roger, Ocho-siete-siete. Lo tengo en el radar. Asuma curso 310 grados, y descienda a 1000 metros en este momento."

"Enrico, what's going on?"

"I told him where we were-that I was over the river at 6,000; that I thought I had Jorge Newbery, the city airport, in sight. He said he has us on radar and we are to descend to 3,000 feet on a course of 310 degrees."

The plane was in a gentle bank to the right. The compass needle was pointing almost to 310 degrees.

"Call him and tell him our chart shows a restricted zone," Oliver ordered.

"Campo de Mayo, conteste . . . conteste . . ." de la Santiago said into his microphone, de la Santiago said into his microphone, "Campo de Mayo, aqui U.S. Army Ocho-siete -siete. Mi mapa muestra que su campo esta en una zona restringida. este es un avion del Ejercito de los Estados Unidos." "Campo de Mayo, aqui U.S. Army Ocho-siete -siete. Mi mapa muestra que su campo esta en una zona restringida. este es un avion del Ejercito de los Estados Unidos."

"Roger, Ocho-siete-siete. este es un aeropuerto restringido. Lo tengo a 2,000 metros en un curso de 310. Esta aproximadamente a ocho kilometros de esta estacion. Empiece su descenso ahora por una recta de aproximacion a la pista de aterrizaje 31. El altimetro es dos nueve nueve. Los vientos son insignificantes. Informe cuando tiene la pista de aterrizaje a la vista."

"What was all that?" Oliver asked.

"Yes," de la Santiago reported, chuckling, "this is a restricted airfield. We have you on radar. You are cleared for a straight-in to Runway 31."

"What the hell is going on?" Oliver asked, chuckling.