Hide and Seek (3 page)

Amelia Lennon, dressed in a plain woman’s business suit, left her silver Russian-made Lada Priora sedan in the parking lot, the heels of her spectator pumps tapping against the hard surface. A cool wind from the east—a Chinese wind—blew over the area, sending the flowers and bushes in the newly landscaped planters into a gentle waltz.

The parking lot was nearly deserted, just a handful of cars, most old and battered by a life spent on degrading roads. Kyrgyzstan was a country on the ropes. It had, for a time, shown promise but without the old Soviet system to bolster its economy, the country grew weaker by the month. Throw in government corruption, rebellion, riots, and ethnic strife, and Kyrgyzstan was a powder keg one match away from conflagration.

The wind ruffled Amelia’s shoulder-length, chestnut hair. She was unassuming in appearance: not catwalk beautiful, but not overly plain. She had enough East Europe qualities to pass as a local but not stand out on any U.S. street.

Amelia glanced back at the parking lot. One car stood out: a sporty red BYD sedan that looked very similar to one of the more expensive Mercedes-Benz. The Chinese automaker, like many Chinese automakers, was accused of stealing designs from American and European countries. General Motors sued Chery, another Chinese manufacturer back in the early 2000s. Fiat, Toyota, and others made the same complaint. For China, piracy was not limited to movies and music.
At least they steal from the best.

It wasn’t the copycat car that bothered Amelia, it was who owned the vehicle. The car was a gift to Jildiz Oskonbaeva, the woman she came to meet. China gave the car to Jildiz and ones like it to other Kyrgyzstan leaders. They made no secret of that. What they did keep under their hat were the gifts they gave to those seeking to upset the sitting government. Those gifts were not well known, but they were known to Amelia. It was part of her job as an Army Foreign Affairs Officer, and she had a pretty good information pipeline.

The pub/restaurant was repainted recently, replacing the dark, nearly black theme with something almost as obnoxious: lavender paint with blue trim. Someone somewhere convinced the owners this was a cool way to go. Firing squads were created for such people.

The wide, arched wood doors remained the same. So far. The windows were also arched. As Amelia entered the eatery she had a passing sense she was being swallowed by a disco.

She walked through the lobby, closing the door behind her. The smell of cooking meat assaulted her nose. The aroma was strong with seasoning. The room was empty. She had been to the pub several times over the last year and it was always full of noisy patrons and cigarette smoke. The silence was stunning even though she expected it. This meeting was to be private, just two women from different cultures seeking a common good.

Jildiz Oskonbaeva sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by empty tables, a glass of red beer in front of her. At five foot five, she was two inches shorter than Amelia. She wore her black hair short and parted on the right. The first time Amelia met Jildiz she was impressed with the intelligent look in her eyes, an intelligence revealed in the conversation that followed. At times the daughter of the Kyrgyzstan president could be aggressive, pushy, and even obnoxious. Amelia liked that even though much of it was bluster learned in Western law school. Behind the confidence and assertiveness, Amelia sensed Jildiz was frail. She didn’t know how. The woman always appeared healthy. Maybe it was the pressures of her job. As chief negotiator for her father’s government, she had been called upon to deal with very difficult situations. Manas Air Base was one of them.
No, not Manas Air Base, it is still the Transit Center at the Manas International Airport.
Call it what you will, it was still home to the Ninth Air Force garrison and the jumping-off point for flights into Afghanistan.

At least for now.

Jildiz stood as Amelia approached and smoothed her black jacket. She wore a white blouse, black slacks, and black loafers. “It is good to see you, Jildiz. You look wonderful.” She kissed the lawyer on the cheek.

“But not as good as you, Amelia. I would kill for long hair like that.” Jildiz returned the kiss.

“What, this old stuff? I’ve had it all my life.”

They exchanged a chuckle and sat. Jildiz waved at a waiter who stood near the entrance to the kitchen. As the dark, middle-aged man approached, Jildiz asked, “Beer? You know they brew it right here.”

“I do know that and I don’t mind if I do.”

Jildiz addressed the waiter. “One more beer, please, and you can bring the food when it is ready. Thank you.” She faced Amelia again. “I took the liberty of ordering some food for us.”

“Wonderful.” Amelia forced her face to ignore her impulse to grimace.
Please, no horse meat.

“Besh barmak.”

Oh yuck.
“I haven’t had that for some time.” Amelia avoided making eye contact.

“Not to worry, my friend. No horse meat and no goat’s head. I thought we would keep this casual. I know you Americans can be sensitive to such things so I asked the dish be prepared with beef.”

“You are a gracious hostess. I didn’t know I was being so transparent.”

Jildiz leaned closer as if there were others in the room listening. “Your face went pale.” She leaned back. “But I understand.”

“Is it all right if I use a fork? I know the dish means ‘five-fingers’ but I tend to be a little messy when I eat with my hands.” In this country food was a reminder of the people’s nomadic heritage. While the country was well grounded in the twenty-first century it still clung to its past. Normally a good thing, such historical memory is what fueled the tension between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks.

“Eat in whatever manner makes you most comfortable.”

“Thank you.” The conversation lagged as Amelia wondered when to broach the subject.

As soon as the waiter brought Amelia a glass of beer and left, Jildiz took the lead. “There’s been another offer.”

“From the Chinese?”

“Yes. And the Russians have upped their offer too. There is a chance, since both want the same thing, they might combine their efforts.”

Amelia sipped her beer as if they were talking about weather. “May I ask how much?”

“In dollars? The Chinese have offered the U.S. equivalent of $10 billion and the Russians, $2 billion. Their economy is still shaky.”

“The Chinese seem to be doing okay.”

Jildiz shrugged. “Everyone owes them money. They own over $1 trillion of your Treasury bonds and Japan owns nearly that much. Of course, your country owes money to many other countries.”

“That is true but, if I may say, a little off the topic, Jildiz. We have provided aid to your country several times and continue to pay a fair rate of rent for our presence in the transit center at Manas.”

“Yes, but it is a fair trade. You need a departure point for troops moving in and out of Afghanistan. Even though there has been a reduction of troops in that country, America still needs a Central Asia airport. We have Russia to our north with just Kazakhstan in between and we share a border with China on the east. How do I put this delicately, Amelia? Both countries are uncomfortable with your air base and are willing to pay to have you evicted.”

“Sometimes those who appear to have our best interest at heart have secret motives.” Amelia turned her glass on the table. “I don’t need to tell you that your country separated yourself from Russia in 1991.”

“You are correct. You do not need to tell me that. The Russian government has done many things to help us in our difficult times. I am not so naive as to overlook their agenda, but then again, my friend, your country has an agenda too. You need a base in our region because you fear China, because you fear a Russian relapse, because you fear growing tensions with Pakistan, because you fear a Taliban resurgence in Afghanistan. Shall I go on?”

“No need, Jildiz. My country has been open about such matters with you. Everything you have said is true. We do have such concerns. China has become aggressive economically, technologically, and even militarily.” Keeping track of stresses between the U.S. Army and Central Asian countries was part of her job. As such she was privy to information she could not discuss with people shouldering less than one star on the uniform and the right security clearance. She knew of China’s action to down a U.S. military satellite. It went bad for China and very nearly went bad for the United States.

She sipped her drink to buy a moment of thought. “I believe your country needs us here to keep a balance in the region. There are new stresses between the Russians and the Chinese. Having an American air base between them can be useful.”

“Perhaps, but my country’s biggest need is money.” The words seemed to sadden her. “I dislike being so crass. We are not a greedy people. Kyrgyz and Uzbeks are a proud people used to making their own way through difficult times. Our history in the region dates 2,200 years, longer than Christianity. This is a difficult land. We have survived much but the world has changed. To remain a free republic we need outside help and we’re getting that from Russia and China. Russia is a trade partner and accounts for 44 percent of our trade; China is 15 percent of our trade. That means 60 percent of our trade involves just two countries. You may not like them, but they have helped us.”

The waiter brought the noodle and meat dish to the table but Amelia’s appetite was gone—even if the meat was beef and not horse.

After the waiter left, Amelia resumed the conversation. “Jildiz, are you saying your father’s government is wanting more than the $60 million we pay each year in rent for use of the airport at Manas?”

She looked sad. Amelia met with Jildiz several times after the topic of the air base closure first came up. Most of those were formal discussions, a couple were casual. Amelia had begun thinking of Jildiz as a friend, although she doubted they’d ever go shopping together.

It took a moment for Jildiz to answer. “I spoke with our president—my father—again this morning. He tells me the cabinet and the prime minister are pushing to accept the offer from the Chinese government. The $60 million your country pays is very much appreciated, but what is that compared to the billions the Chinese are offering?”

Amelia hated calling the annual payment “rent.” The money was demanded and the United States came very close to being evicted from the facility. Only money and a change to the name of the facility made it possible to stay the next few years.

Jildiz dished out the noodles and meat concoction. Amelia watched. This was going the wrong way. Kyrgyzstan was in trouble, more this last year than ever before. For years they suffered under a corrupt government until a rebellion brought an end to the administration. Riots in April of 2010 demonstrated how bad things had become. An interim government was able to settle the situation but most observers considered the country a powder keg ready to explode into civil war. Meklis Oskonbaeva, a former soccer player turned attorney turned politician, became the first president after the interim government. He was popular from his exploits on the soccer field decades before and now in his manner of governing. Even so, winning 76 percent of the vote didn’t guarantee peace in the government or in the land. He was a man leading his followers through a flood of gasoline with a lit match in his hand.

“Jildiz, surely you and your father know the air base is a sign of American and Kyrgyzstan cooperation and our determination to end terrorism in the world. By allowing us a base to move troops into and out of Afghanistan, countless lives have been saved. Your government—your people—are heroes. Sending us packing will say to the world you’ve given up on your commitment.”

Jildiz froze for a second then raised one finger. “Careful, Ms. Lennon. I will not tolerate attempts to intimidate me or play with my emotions. Ending our agreement on Manas says no such thing. Your country is winding down the war more and more every day. Soon, you’ll be gone. You will have no need for the base except to irritate the Russians and the Chinese.”

Amelia felt her face warm. She made a tactical mistake. “I worded that poorly, Jildiz. The world owes your country a debt of gratitude.”

“Gratitude won’t fix our economy or raise our people out of poverty.” She studied her food. Apparently she, too, had lost her appetite. “My father will be meeting with his key leaders and the prime minister. Prime Minister Sariev Dootkasy has made it clear he wants you off our airport. He believes the American presence is a destabilizing force. My father has not committed to that action, but . . .”

“But he’s leaning that direction.”

Jildiz shook her head. “He feels the pressure but he plans to argue your case.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“Don’t be misled, Amelia. It’s not all about the base. The distance between him and the prime minister has grown. Dootkasy is driving a wedge between my father and his government. Manas is a sharp wedge.”

“I appreciate you being honest with me about this.” She took a bite of the meal. Besh barmak was definitely better with beef than horse.

“I didn’t want you to be surprised. My father will push for an extension of the agreement but he may fail.” She sipped her beer. “And to be candid, I think he’s making a mistake.”

“I wish I could change your mind, Jildiz. I know the people at the U.S. Embassy have been working with our Department of Defense and with our president. While there is a chance we might get more money, it won’t come near to what the Chinese have offered.”

“The Chinese have also indicated an interest in buying our treasury notes. That money will go a long way in helping us build a more vital infrastructure, roads, and job creation. I know this is unwanted news, but you have had a base in our country since 2001. No one expected you would need it for so long.” She picked up her glass of beer and stared at it but never brought it to her mouth. “We are at a breaking point. Civil war is just around the corner. Our unemployment is crippling. Our military wanes for lack of funding.”

“But your father still thinks keeping us at the base is a good idea?”