The Heist

Airport. Much like my life, Kate thought. Her life had turned exotic, filled with new experiences, shadowed by a cloudy future. Truth is, her new assignment was scary. She’d always felt safe under the protective blanket of the FBI, and now she was operating without the blanket. And she was partnered with a man who was exciting and smart, but who she didn’t completely trust.
    Kate deplaned with the other first-class passengers, visited the visa counter, and bought her 238,500 rupiah tourist visa, which was $25 American. She got her forged passport stamped at the immigration desk and made her way to baggage claim. She knew she was actually in Bali, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Balinese architectural elements in the airport were fake. The terminal reminded her of an old International House of Pancakes in Northridge that someone had tried to transform into a Chinese restaurant by carving a five-clawed dragon into the front door and adding curvy points to every corner of the roof. That still didn’t stop people from coming in and asking for a stack of buttermilk pancakes.
    Willie clomped over just as the bags began to tumble down the chute and onto the carousel. They found their bags and dragged them to customs, handed the stone-faced Indonesian officers their declaration forms, and walked out into the arrivals lobby. The room was crowded with Javanese taxi drivers clamoring for fares, and bewildered tourists looking for transportation. In all this congested mix of sweaty humanity, Kate had no problem finding Nick. Nick Fox stood out in his fitted white polo shirt with a corporate logo on the chest. The logo was a blue planet with a streak oflighting across it that carried the words HUFFNAGLE GLOBAL in a bold, italic action font that suggested urgency and determination. He had a broad hospitality smile on his face, the kind the best hotel clerks, concierges, and flight attendants work years to achieve, one that convincingly proclaims:
My life was meaningless until I had this wondrous opportunity to lay my eyes upon you and cater to your every need
.
    He rushed to take Kate’s bags. “
Selamat siang
. Welcome to Bali, Ms. Huffnagle. I hope you had a pleasant flight.”
    Kate and Willie followed Nick outside into the hot, humid afternoon, where a sparkling but not very recent Mercedes, provided by the Benoa Bali Regal Resort Hotel, was waiting for them at the curb, a uniformed driver at the wheel. Kate slipped into the backseat, Willie got in beside her, and Nick took the front passenger seat. The streets were narrow, crowded with taxis, motorcycles, bikes, and mopeds, and lined with palm trees and whitewashed buildings covered with signs vying for the attention of rich tourists. The Mercedes turned a corner onto a street packed with outdoor restaurants where diners sat cross-legged at tables eating rice with their hands. The air was thick with the smell of spices carried in the steam from hundreds of sizzling pots.
    Up and down the sidewalks, and crouched between parked motorcycles at the curbs, were roving vendors carrying their kitchens either on rolling carts or balanced on sticks across their shoulders. Each stick had a sling with a wok on one side and a bundle of ingredients on the other, and dishes were prepared on the spot wherever vendors found a hungry paying customer. The vendors were so close to the car that Kate was tempted to reach out the window and snatch a bowl from one of them.

The Benoa Bali Regal was a five-star resort built on the pristine golden sands of the Tanjung Benoa peninsula. Once home to ramshackle fishing villages, the peninsula was now a prime tourist destination with high-end hotels taking advantage of the swaying palms, sugary beaches, bright blue seas, and breathtaking vistas.
    Nick saw the luxurious resorts of Southern Bali as a successfully executed multibillion-dollar con. The travel industry had convinced people to fly tens of thousands of miles to stay at Bali-themed resorts rather than experience the authentic villages, rice paddies, temples, and tropical forests of Bali itself. The real Bali, even more beautiful than the re-creation, was a few miles farther north. Fortunately the con worked for everyone’s good, ensuring that the real Bali didn’t get overrun with hordes of tourists demanding flush toilets, while the resort Bali brought money into the economy and provided the tourists with a porcelain paradisefeaturing overhead rain showers and the latest