Donovans 02 - Jade Island

Women?”
    “He’s a one-woman man.”
    Harry blinked. “Oh? Well, it is that way for some men, I am told. So he is a man with one passion and no, ah, hobbies?”
    “Donald Donovan’s hobby is the finding, mining, and refining of metallic ores. His four sons prefer precious and semi-precious gemstones. In my case, jade.”
    Harry nodded and lifted his right hand in the direction of his silent companion. Moments later a lighted cigarette appeared between his fingers. He puffed, blowing smoke in a long stream that blended with incense and other cigarettes. When he spoke, he appeared to choose his words carefully.
    “Is that why your esteemed father’s important company lacks any jade, ah, arms?” asked Harry, releasing another burst of smoke.
    “Or feet, either. If you can’t mine it and smelt it, The Donovan couldn’t care less about it.” Kyle’s voice was cheerful, as if he didn’t sense any darker currents coiling beneath the smooth surface of the conversation. “But I’m working on it. Every chance I get, I bend the old man’s ear on the subject of jade.”
    Harry’s companion slid a cigarette between Wen’s raised fingers. He stuck the cigarette in his mouth and sucked in smoke with short, fast bursts while Lianne translated into Cantonese. Harry listened closely, too. Though he prided himself on his English, he needed a translator to grasp Kyle’s rapid, idiomatic speech.
    Johnny didn’t have to wait for understanding, but it was Harry who was doing the talking. Johnny’s job was to keep the discussion on track despite Harry’s reluctance to reopen negotiations with the Donovans. If Harry had his way, the Tang Consortium would put all its money into overseas Chinese communities in the form of casinos, banks, hotels, and shipping.
    But Harry didn’t have his way. Nor would he. Though the Number One Son didn’t share Wen’s obsession with jade, he recognized that the Donovans were an international power. If Kyle’s interest in jade could become the basis of an alliance, Joe was for it. So was Wen. The Tangs badly needed international allies.
    “Ah, jade, that is good,” Harry said to Kyle, letting out another round of smoke. An ashtray appeared just beneath his hand. He dropped the half-smoked cigarette in and waved it away. “You speak to your esteemed father about jade. To those who understand, Tang and jade are like this,” he added, hooking his two index fingers together and yanking to prove the strength of the connection. “To know one is to know the other.”
    “That’s what I said, but The Donovan keeps saying something about SunCo. Now, I have to admit they had some really sweet jade on display tonight. Not up to Tang quality in most cases, and not a patch on Farmer’s stuff, but high end isn’t the only end of the jade trade.” Kyle sent a flat, white smile in Harry’s direction. “I’m hoping Lianne will have some ideas that will make my father focus on Tang jade. She’s a real pistol when it comes to jade. More ideas than a dog has fleas. Am I speaking too fast for you, buddy?”
    Johnny shifted impatiently in his chair. He had the look of a worried man, or one with indigestion.
    Kyle didn’t care which. Johnny was only Number Three Son, Wen was half asleep, and Harry was running theshow. Harry, whose contempt for any man’s Number Four Son didn’t need translation.
    Lianne shot Kyle a warning look.
    He gave her a smile that was all sharp edges and no warmth. If Harry figured that Lianne had snagged the easy mark in the Donovan clan, Kyle wasn’t going to get in the way of the game, whatever it might be. And he no longer doubted there was one.
    Just as he didn’t doubt that Lianne was in that game right up to her stubborn chin.

Chapter 10
    A rcher walked into Kyle’s suite without knocking, shook him awake, and waved a copy of USA Today under his nose. After another shake, Kyle opened one eye, saw the clock, and turned his back on Archer without a word. Like his sister Honor, Kyle believed that early morning should be greeted with both eyes closed tight.
    “Not this time,” Archer said, stripping off the covers with a quick jerk of his arm. “Talk to me. I’ve been fielding unhappy phone calls for three hours.”
    “It’s only six A . M .”
    “They start early in Washington, D.C., especially when China is chewing ass about stolen cultural treasures. Get up.”
    “I didn’t get to bed until two, you woke me up at three—”
    “For all the good