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Wren shrugged. “On paper, maybe. He took a massive hit two years ago when the Chinese communists all but stole his automotive company out from under him. They took his factories, his technology, virtually all of his China-side labor, and they forced him into a partnership. He’s now got a minority stake in Ningbo Automotive Group, and it’s billed like this big multinational consortium, but in truth all the companies involved but Hinton’s are part of the Chinese state. He gets some money out of the enterprise, but he built that company from the ground up, poured billions into R&D, and it had just started making a profit when it was nationalized.
“Unfortunately for him, all his manufacturing and a lot of his corporate infrastructure were based in Ningbo and Guangzhou, so all the Chicoms had to do was kick out the foreigners and change the name. When that was done, they reached out to Hinton and offered him a small stake in his own bloody company in return for making nice about the whole thing in order to drive car sales around the world.”
“That must have pissed him off.”
“Yeah, but he’s an oddly positive bloke. Quite chipper about it, really. Always looking down the road towards the next opportunity. And it’s not like he’s destitute.”
The waitress returned with tea and coffee, then she moved off again.
Zack reached for his cup. “You mentioned eighteen homes.”
“Right. Private jets, as well.”
“I remember he used to be on TV all the time.”
“Dated models and actresses, went on all the news shows advocating for artificial intelligence. Doesn’t do that anymore. Lives a pretty monastic life, to tell you the truth. Hasn’t been on a date in two years. Sleeps about four hours a night, works probably sixteen hours a day.”
“What can you tell me about the attempt on him?”
“A right cock-up, that was. We were in Oxford at an event that had been planned for months. I tried to get it canceled, but Anton wouldn’t hear of it. The would-be assassins were two chaps with handguns. Not terribly sophisticated, not terribly talented, either, but I wouldn’t mention that to Emilio’s family.” He sipped his tea, then added, “Emilio and his security acted professionally, it just went down so fast.”
“Action beats reaction,” Zack said ruefully.
“Always has. Always will.”
Zack took mental notes. “And the bodyguards killed the shooters?”
Wren shook his head. “They wounded them but didn’t put them down. I ended up dropping both the cunts myself.”
“You’re kidding. I thought you were head of operations, not security.”
“Chief operating officer. But once a gunfighter, always a gunfighter, I guess. I started with Anton a dozen years ago on his security staff and still have my license in the UK, so I strapped on a pistol yesterday for the first time in forever. As to the shooters, one died at the scene, the other bled out, I assume in the ambulance, but I was long gone by then and haven’t heard.”
Hightower found himself confused. “Hinton’s detail. You said they were good. What the hell were they doing while the chief operating officer was killing the attackers for them?”
“As I said, they scored hits, but they were understandably more concerned about shuffling Anton back to the vehicle under ballistic shields.”
Zack nodded. “What kind of shields?”
“Expanding Kevlar suitcases.”
Hightower rolled his eyes. “Those won’t stop a rifle round.”
“I guess we got lucky the blokes that had a go at us used pistols, but I would have registered anyone coming up on us with rifles, so it was a reasonable assumption for us to bring the shields.” His eyes narrowed a little. “Didn’t do Emilio much good, but Anton lived.”
“Hinton needs plates,” Zack said flatly. “Especially now.”
“My pleas have fallen on deaf ears, but you are most welcome to try convincing him. He’s terrified about getting killed, but he doesn’t want to look terrified about getting killed, so it all comes back to us to keep him safe.”
“When do I meet him?”
“He’s in teleconferences all day. Talking to those friends and colleagues in his field who are still breathing, but I’ll squeeze in a quick chat, maybe early this evening. You won’t have much to do today. He’s leaving this hotel over my dead body, but you’ll be his body man when we head for the airport, hopefully tomorrow morning.”
Zack nodded. “I’m ready.”
Wren hesitated a moment, then asked, “Why is it you’ve yet to ask me what this job pays?”
“I’m sure the money’s good.”
