Читать книгу Enemy Arsenal - Don Pendleton - Страница 16

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I have just been informed by the tower that we are cleared for our final approach, and will be touching down in the next few minutes. We appreciate your patience during the delay, and hope that you have enjoyed your flight with us. Flight crew, please prepare for landing.”

John Trent relaxed in his business-class airline seat, sparing a pitying thought for the folks crammed back in coach after their fifteen-hour flight. Returning his seat to its upright position, he stowed his tray table then turned to the window, looking down on the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong, the southern jewel of China.

Skyscrapers dominated the landscape, reducing the still-thick forests surrounding the sprawling city to tiny green trees. The morning sun glittered on the water, its rays refracting into thousands of brilliant diamonds that lit the harbor, interspersed with dozens of ships that plied the waterways, from the classic, trendy tourist junks to the ponderous, massive cargo ships and tankers that sailed through the strait daily. Everywhere he looked, Trent saw a thriving city, even amid the oppressive overall global recession that had sapped the business center’s strength. Although the economic markets had receded from their lofty highs of a few years ago, in Hong Kong, it still looked as though business was quite good, at least on the surface.