Nelson Demille - The Lion's Game

Malik had shown him two interesting films. In the first film, shown in slow motion, a lion was in full pursuit of a gazelle. The gazelle changed course to the left and Malik said, "Notice that the lion does not overcompensate in his turn to the left in order to intercept his prey. The lion knows that the gazelle can change direction quickly to the right, and the lion will overshoot his prey and lose him. The lion only changes directions at the same angle as his prey and follows directly behind him. He will not be fooled, and he knows that his speed will overtake even the gazelle, as long as he focuses on the animal's rear legs." The film ended with the lion leaping onto the haunches of the gazelle, who collapsed under the weight of his pursuer and waited quietly for his death.

The next film showed a lion being pursued across a grassy plain by a Land Rover in which two men and two women rode. The people in the vehicle, according to the narrator, were trying to get close enough to the lion to shoot a tranquilizing dart into him so that he could be captured for some scientific purpose.

This film, too, was in slow motion, and Khalil noticed that the lion at first tried to rely on its speed to outdistance the vehicle, but as the lion tired, he changed direction to the right, and the vehicle went to the right as well, but at a steeper angle, in order to intercept the lion. But the lion, who now was in the position of a gazelle, knew by instinct and experience what the vehicle was doing, and the lion suddenly veered to the left, and the vehicle found itself far to the right of the retreating lion. The film ended, and Khalil never knew if the lion escaped.

Malik had said, "The lion, when he is the hunter, remains focused on his prey. The lion, as the hunted, relies on his knowledge and instincts as a hunter to trick his pursuers. There are times when you must change directions to avoid your pursuers, and times when an unnecessary change of direction allows your prey to escape. The worst change of direction is that which leads you directly into a trap. Know when to change course, and when to increase your speed, and when to slow your pace if you smell danger ahead. Know, too, when to stop and blend into the bush. A gazelle who has escaped the lion quickly goes back to its mindless grazing. The gazelle is happy filling its belly with grass and not exerting itself. The lion still wants its meat, and will wait for the gazelle to get even fatter and slower."

The Learjet passed over the threshold of the runway, and Khalil looked out the porthole as the aircraft touched down on the concrete landing strip.

The Lear came to a quick stop, then exited onto a taxi-way. A few minutes later, the Learjet taxied up to a nearly deserted General Aviation ramp.

Khalil watched closely through the cabin window, then stood, picked up his bag, walked to the front of the aircraft, and knelt behind the pilots. He scanned the scene through the cockpit windows and saw a man in front of them holding a set of lighted wands to guide the aircraft into a parking spot directly in front of the facility building.

Captain Fiske shut down the engines and said to his passenger, "Here we are, Mr. Perleman. Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"No. I am being met." Though I don't know by whom. Khalil continued to look through the cockpit windows.

The co-pilot, Sanford, unfastened his harness, stood, and excused himself as he slid past his passenger.

Sanford opened the cabin door and a soft breeze blew into the aircraft. Sanford then stepped out of the aircraft, and Asad Khalil followed him, ready to say good-bye, or to shoot the man in the head, depending on what happened in the next few seconds.

Captain Fiske also exited the aircraft, and the three men stood together in the cool dawn air. Khalil said, "I am to meet my colleague in the coffee shop."

"Yes, sir," said Captain Fiske. "There was a coffee shop in that two-story building last time I was here. Should be open now."

Khalil's eyes darted around at the hangars and the maintenance buildings, still in early morning shadow.

Captain Fiske said, "Over there, sir. That building with all the windows."

"Yes, I see it." He looked at his watch and said to Captain Fiske, "I will be driven to Burbank. How long will the drive be?"

Both pilots considered the question, then Terry Sanford replied, "Well, Burbank Airport is only about twelve miles north of here, so it shouldn't take long by car at this hour. Maybe twenty, thirty minutes."

In case the pilots were wondering, Khalil said, "Perhaps I should have gone directly to the airport there."

"Well, the noise curfew there lifts at seven A.M."

'Ah, then that's why my colleague instructed me to meet him here."

"Yes, sir. Probably."

In fact, Khalil knew all of this, and he smiled to himself at the thought of his pilots discovering sometime in the future that their passenger was not as ignorant as they themselves had been regarding his flight plans. He said to them, "Thank you." He addressed both men and said, "And I thank you for your assistance and your company."

Both pilots replied that it had been a pleasure having him on board. Khalil doubted their sincerity, but he gave each man a hundred dollars in cash and said, "I will request you both the next time I need your service."

They thanked Mr. Perleman, touched their caps, and walked off toward the open hangar.

Asad Khalil stood alone, exposed on the open ramp, and waited for the quiet to explode into screaming and running men. But nothing happened, which did not surprise him. He sensed no danger, and felt the presence of God in the rising sun.

He walked unhurriedly toward the glass building to the right of the hangar and entered.

He found the coffee shop and saw a man sitting alone at a table. The man wore jeans and a blue T-shirt and was reading the Los Angeles Times. Like himself, the man had Semitic features and was about his age. Asad Khalil approached the man and said, "Mr. Tannenbaum?"

The man stood. "Yes. Mr. Perleman?"

They shook hands, and the man who called himself Tannenbaum asked, "Would you like coffee?"

"I think we should go." Khalil exited the coffee shop.

The man paid for his coffee at the cash register and met Mr. Perleman outside the coffee shop. They left the building and began walking to the parking lot. Mr. Tannenbaum, still speaking English, inquired, "You have had a good journey?"

"If I had not, would I be here?"

The man didn't reply. He sensed that this compatriot walking beside him was not looking for companionship or idle talk.

Khalil asked, "Are you sure you weren't followed?"

"Yes, I'm certain. I am not involved in anything that would cause me to come to the attention of the authorities."

Khalil replied in Arabic, "You are not now involved in any such thing. Do not make any such assumptions, my friend."

The man answered in Arabic, "Of course. I apologize." They approached a blue van parked in the lot. On the side of the van were the words RAPID DELIVERY SERVICE-LOCAL AND STATEWIDE-GUARANTEED SAME OR NEXT DAY DELIVERY, followed by a phone number.

The man unlocked the doors and got into the driver's seat. Khalil climbed into the passenger seat and glanced into the rear of the van where a dozen packages sat on the floor.

The man started the engine and said, "Please fasten your seat belt to avoid being stopped by the police."

Khalil fastened his seat belt, keeping his black bag on his lap. He said, "Route Four-Zero-Five, north."

The man put the van in gear and drove out of the lot, then out of the municipal airport. Within a few minutes, they were on a wide Interstate, heading north. Khalil and the driver both looked in their sideview mirrors as they gathered speed.

The sky had lightened, and Khalil looked around as they continued north. He saw exit signs for Century City, Twentieth Century-Fox Studios, West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and something called UCLA. Khalil knew that Hollywood was where the American movies were made, but he had no interest in that subject, and his driver volunteered no information.