Jinxed in Jihlava
Polish Airlines flight LO 16 from Newark, New Jersey, landed exactly on time at 1:15 PM in the afternoon in Warsaw. Harsh always enjoyed this particular flight into Europe not only because of the convenient timing out of Newark but also because he loved not having to deal with the mega airports like Paris, Frankfurt or Munich, and yet enjoying the same quick connectivity to anywhere in Europe. Some perverted sense of the inappropriate also made this flight especially enjoyable for Harsh because this exact flight had crash landed in Warsaw on November 1st, 2011, with no fatalities. How that made any difference to his flight experience, even he did not know; but it did. In this instance, he was bound for Prague to kick off a software implementation project at a major company in the suburbs of Jihlava, a significant industrial center an hour and a half outside Prague. Harsh quickly transferred to another LOT flight and was enjoying the crisp Autumn air of Prague when a man approached him with his name visible on an iPad. It was the transport sent by the client and Harsh was soon speeding down D1/E65 towards the ancient silver mining town of Jihlava. Having spent substantial time in the European megacities, Harsh had come to love the smaller European cities like Jihlava, Tampere and Kristianstad that had every amenity and nicer people. As he logged into a Microsoft Teams meeting from the cab, he again marveled how the Internet connection on D1/E65 had always held strong during all his previous visits. When the cab finally deposited him in front of Hotel Gustav Mahler, he had been happily dozing in the warmth of the cab for quite some time.
Jihlava was a great place to walk round, and Harsh did just that after dinner. He started with the main square, Masarykovo namesti, quite close to his hotel. It was a large, well-preserved collection of old buildings that was at once majestic and beautiful. The ugly modern building in the middle of the square housing the McDonalds and a local supermarket was a true eye sore, but it paled in comparison to the resplendent beauty all around. The Town Hall next to the distinctive church of St. Ignatus of Loyola, not only looked dramatic and imposing but also hid a monumental Gothic Hall inside, which he Harsh had visited earlier.
The client transport picked him up from the hotel at 8 AM next morning and drove him to Jaroslav Jihlavan Airplanes, Czech Republic’s only indigenous aircraft manufacturer that produced a range of 2-seater, full-metal light aircraft for travel, reconnaissance and pilot training. Their JAROVAN 350 was an all-metal two-seater low-flyer with a trapezoidal wing and a cruising range of 1600 KM that was popular worldwide with both corporate and private owners. Particularly popular with oil rig companies, it had put this Czech company on the international radar.
Now their Managing Director, Gregor Dvořák, awaited Harsh in his spacious but functional office in the two-storied building on the inner fringes of a kilometer-long private airfield. Having met a few times previously, they had developed an effective working relationship and even an easy acquaintance that went beyond corporate liaison. After the perfunctory social exchanges, they dove right into work.
Harsh’s IT firm had been chosen to lead Jaroslav into the world of modern ERP, with Microsoft Dynamics 365 Finance & Operations as the chosen vehicle. Both organizations were ready with the pre-implementation preparatory arrangements and this was the start of the project kick-off week. Harsh’s European colleague from Luxembourg would join him at Jihlava later that week to lead the project on the ground for an estimated 13 weeks. Gregor and Harsh were soon joined by Ester Havel, who would be the project manager for Jaroslav, and by Miloš Jágr, the Plant Head, who would lead automation into the shop floor level. Gregor had selected a large room on the 2nd floor of their maintenance building as their project war room. Overlooking the airfield through large end-to-end windows, the room was well suited for long hours of work that the team was surely destined to experience.
That evening Gregor hosted dinner for all four of them at the Restaurace Tri Knizata located right on the Masarykovo namesti square. Miloš suggested the duck breast filet, which Harsh opted to try, along with Bouillabaisse for starters. The Moravian Pinot Noir, suggested by Gregor, was the perfect complement to the duck.
In the adjacent table, a young couple appeared to be holding some sort of a celebratory dinner. Harsh noted with gratification that the lady also appeared to have taken the duck breast filet. Later on, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the couple had also checked into the Gustav Mahler just like him.
Next morning, at breakfast, he had the opportunity to meet the couple. Oscar and Judy Rodriguez. They turned out to be from Miami, having originally migrated to the United States from Colombia. Oscar was a journalist with the Go! Latinos Magazine in South Florida, who had been investigating the lifestyle and the challenges of Latinos across Europe, while also manning the Spanish desk at Madrid that was the magazine’s gateway to Europe. Judy had taken sabbatical from work and was enjoying their European sojourn while it lasted. They were considering renting a small apartment in Jihlava because it would help Costa cover Poland, Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, Bulgaria, Ukraine and other Eastern European states that were too distant from Spain. To Harsh, the choice of Jihlava rather than Prague or even Brno seemed odd, but it hardly warranted another thought. The cab from Jaroslav was there and whisked him away to his client.
After coffee, Gregor introduced Harsh to Václav Ledecká, their Test Pilot, who flew every one of their aircrafts through rigorous test maneuvers before they were released to clients. He was, of course, R&D’s biggest ally who helped confirm that what worked in the wind tunnel actually worked in the sky. Previously a pilot with the Czech Air Force, he said he had flown the mainstay of the Czech air force, the subsonic attack aircraft -- JAS 39 Gripen -- extensively. He had been with Jaroslav for only three years. Gregor explained that in the brief five-year history of Jaroslav, they used to employ contract test pilots from the Czech Air Force, one of them being Václav, before offering to hire him full-time. Harsh had always been intrigued by the risks that the proverbial test pilots undertook to ensure the safety and airworthiness of all new aircraft. Václav appeared to be one of the most affable persons he had ever met. With his eyes twinkling, he regaled Harsh with tale after tale of controlled failures and emergency landings he had undertaken.
Gregor interjected to put everything in context by explaining that the sophisticated avionics on their planes included a range of systems such as, engine controls, flight control systems, navigation, communications, flight recorders, lighting systems, threat detection, fuel systems, electro-optic (EO/IR) systems, weather radar, and so on. Jaroslav had invested in the ACARS protocol and in Inmarsat data service for transmitting the data from anywhere in the world. However, many terabytes of data were generated in flight which was not transmitted through Inmarsat but was stored on a solid-state drive on the plane. As soon as a plane landed at one of the 169 airports where Jaroslav had subscribed to wi-fi service, the data from the solid-state drive was transmitted to the Jaroslav Maintenance Cloud. Harsh’s application would have to continuously tap into this data in real-time and extract actionable maintenance insights forestalling anything untoward. This vital system would be implemented under oversight from Václav.
Václav insisted on taking Harsh out for dinner that evening. They drove down to the city square and parked within easy walking distance to several excellent choices. Václav seemed to fancy some Indian food and suggested Namaste Himalaya right on Masarykovo namesti, but Harsh -- having eaten there on an earlier visit -- suggested Om instead. A short walk down Brněnská opposite the ugly modern McDonald building brought them to Om whose relatively narrow street front belied a rather expansive and luxurious interior. They were soon engrossed in tasting a range of Indian delicacies that Harsh had ordered, matched by some excellent Svatovavrinecke, which was Václav’s suggestion as a worthwhile Czech wine. Václav continues to entertain Harsh with his test pilot experiences. Apparently, he flew quite often to the Albanian capital of Tirana, where they had leased a hanger. The 1000 km distance did not really stretch the Jaroslav airplanes towards their maximum cruising limit, but Tirana was a cheap location for renting the hanger and organizing a small maintenance crew on location.
Dinner over, the two of them walked aimlessly down the alleys around the city square until it was time to part, and Harsh walked the short distance to Gustav Mahler. During the walk, something strange happened. Harsh could swear he clearly saw Oscar Rodriguez, his Colombian fellow guest at the hotel, and Miloš Jágr, the production head at Jiroslav, come out of Radniční restaurace that he passed on the right. Even more bizarre was the feeling that they both hesitated upon seeing Harsh and made a quick turnaround back into the restaurant. All of this occurred in his peripheral vision without Harsh having to turn his head or break a step. So, it was unlikely that either Oscar or Miloš would have suspected they had been seen. But Harsh’s head was buzzing with sudden questions. What could this mean? Why would they try to hide their rendezvous from Harsh who was there for only a week? Why did he matter at all? And why the secrecy anyway? Were they involved in an unholy tryst of some nature? The idea of industrial espionage crossed his mind. Was Oscar illegally procuring airplane designs from Miloš for a client somewhere? He was totally absorbed in this thought as he walked into his hotel and was surprised to hear a female voice calling his name. He scanned the dark lobby to locate the source and discovered Judy Rodriguez sitting with her laptop in one of the alcoves outside the reception hall. She had been down there all evening, she said, because the Internet connection in her room was so bad. Oscar had gone on a business meeting, she said. Harsh stopped to exchange a few pleasantries with Judy and then sprinted up the broad staircase to his top floor room instead of taking the elevators.
Business meeting! He knew what business that was. Judy seemed to be outside the nefarious intrigue. As the idea gripped his mind, he was more and more convinced that he had industrial espionage occurring right below his nose, and perhaps he was duty bound to inform Gregor. That last thought raised a new alarm. Industrial espionage was big money. Oscar could easily be making millions of Euro per stolen design. He was not going to let an IT expert from the U.S. interrupt his revenue stream. Even if it meant – Jesus! – murder? Now Harsh had neatly transported himself into the victim’s role and reporting Miloš to Gregor became a distant priority, while preserving the integrity of his body and soul during the next four days suddenly posed an acute challenge. Harsh was pacing his room like a hunted animal, with his imagined danger to life becoming inflated with every passing second, when a sharp rap on the door jolted him back to reality. Perhaps this was the fresh towel he had requested in the morning but had not been yet been delivered when he returned this evening.
He jerked open the door – and almost chocked. There stood Oscar in the doorway, smiling with a quiet evil glare, his eyes drilling into Harsh’s. He saw with relief that Judy was standing behind Oscar. Surely, he would not commit murder in front of his wife. No words emerged from Harsh’s parched throat, but he finally grasped what Oscar was saying; that a purse-like object had been discovered by Judy at the point where he had run up the stairs that evening, and they wanted to know if it belonged to him. Oscar extended his hands, and it held the metal RFID-shielded box Harsh had recently started using for carrying his credit cards. The possibility of imminent murder was relegated to an obscure prospect, as relief flooded his mind and body for having avoided losing all his credits cards in a foreign country. With a relieved thanks, he took the cards back, and slowly shut the door behind the departing couple, thoroughly confused. Was anything untoward in play? Was Oscar a villain in disguise? Was Miloš selling him company secrets? Why did they try to hide their meeting from Harsh? Was he – Harsh – in any impending danger?
The morning brought scant relief. First, he had to suffer the ingratiating sociability of the Rodrigues couple. Judy was truly easy going and readable, but Harsh sensed in Oscar a cold-blooded glint of the predator closing in on his quarry. It sent a cold shiver down his spine as he downed a cup of the unremarkable coffee served by this otherwise impressive hotel and ran for the door to meet his transport. Secondly, he found it quite difficult to maintain his focus on the project with Gregor and Miloš sitting right there in the project war room along with Ester, the project manager. Should he or should he not share any of his misgivings with Gregor? Was he reading too much into a minor incident of no consequence? Perhaps Oscar and Miloš had not been avoiding Harsh at all, and had merely gone back into the restaurant to retrieve a purse? Was it all in his mind? Would he be laughed out of the room if he vocalized his fears? Václav, the test pilot, came in for a quick discussion before he set off for a test run to Tirana. Although he was as cheerful and friendly as ever, Harsh could hardly return his cheer in any reasonable proportion. The arrival of his Luxembourg colleague, Gilles Foucault, finally broke the unbearable tension. Gilles was going to lead the implementation in Jihlava until the end. So, with him onsite, the project was going to kick off in earnest that afternoon.
By the post-lunch session, all corporate intrigue and mayhem were behind Harsh, and the team was quietly absorbed in project work.
It was around 5:00 PM when the calm was shattered by a loud bang from the floor below where the maintenance department was located. Someone could be heard running up the stairs towards the project war room, and Miloš burst through the door to reveal it was him. He informed there had been an intrusion from outside and someone had been shot. The project team should lock themselves in and switch off lights to ensure everyone’s safety. Then he was gone. Ester took charge and did what Miloš had instructed. Almost everyone walked to the end-to-end glass window overlooking the airfield and parts of the maintenance area. In darkness, they watched. There was quite a drama unfolding below them.
With his heart beating fast, Harsh saw Oscar running away from the maintenance area, jump on to a two-wheeler and escape in the direction of the distant hangars. So, he had been discovered after all, Harsh thought with satisfaction as he watched the fast receding figure of Oscar vanishing into the distance. The whole weight of only him knowing about the industrial espionage was at once lifted from his shoulders. He wondered whether Miloš had been able to cover his tracks. The answer revealed itself on the canvas below quite immediately, when Harsh saw Miloš being led away by four policemen into a police car that cruised to a halt below them. The car sped away in the direction taken by Oscar and was soon inside one of the hangars in the distance. Meanwhile, the siren of an ambulance could be heard approaching rapidly.
Standing in the dark viewing gallery to life unfolding below, everyone spoke excitedly. Harsh quickly filled in Gilles with the industrial espionage details. He pumped Ester for more information, but she was stunned with these developments and had little clue as to the real happenings, although constantly calling others on the shop floor. She said that all she knew was that someone came in from outside with fake identity, and in the ensuing melee, a maintenance crew member had been shot and removed to the hospital in a critical condition. Harsh wished Václav, the test pilot, was there to control the situation. Being ex-military, he would have taken charge of the situation quite rapidly.
A new thought struck Harsh. Could it be at all possible that Václav was already on to the nefarious nexus between Oscar and Miloš? And they might have suspected the discovery. That could be the reason why they were keeping any eye on Harsh the previous evening since he had just spent a whole lot of time entertaining Václav, which a criminal mind could just easily have misconstrued for some kind of collusion against their interest. As this new idea took root, it seemed more and more real. Harsh hoped Václav was not in any kind of danger.
The next order of excitement seemed to be developing below. A line of policemen (easily recognizable by their uniforms) could be seen emerging from below the building and taking up crouching positions along the inner perimeter of the airfield. Did they expect any attack from the outside edge which was completely open? What was going on? Were all of them in some danger from a group of unknown assailants?
His thoughts were interrupted by the drone of an aircraft closing in from the south, its steady navigation light and the fainter wing lights clearly visible in the darkening sky. Ester remarked this was probably Václav back from his testing trip to Tirana. Harsh secretly breathed a sigh of relief to have the friendly military man in their midst to take charge. As the now familiar JAROVAN 350 made a smooth landing and slowly taxied right towards the office building, there was no movement anywhere else. But as Václav alighted from the plane, a lot happened all at once. A solitary figure broke from the shadows below the building and approached Václav with his right arm raised, holding a weapon pointed at Václav. Almost immediately, someone switched on floodlights in that corner of the airfield, almost blinding Václav.
Harsh saw with complete surprise that that the solitary figure confronting Václav was none other than the rogue Oscar. But he seemed to have the support of the policemen who had now risen from their squat and were slowly advancing behind Oscar, forming a semi-circle in the background. Václav slowly raised his hands and allowed himself to be cuffed by a policeman, before being led away. To complete Harsh’s confusion, Miloš emerged from below the building and shook Oscar’s hand quite warmly.
Soon afterwards, Harsh, Gregor, Ester, Miloš, Gilles, and others were sitting around a table in the lunch area, listening to Oscar, who had now properly introduced himself as an officer of the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) in the United States. He explained that it was not commonly known that Albania was the ground zero of organized crime in Europe and the main points of drug trafficking, weapons and immigrants. In fact, Albania had been declared by the U.S. State Department as Europe's only narco-state.
Oscar was entrusted by the DEA to track down a drug route that seemed to have eluded all discovery, and he had finally traced it down to Jihlava. It was only with the inside help of Miloš that he had figured out that Václav’s regular flights to Tirana to test Jaroslav’s aircraft that become a lucrative drug run. Today Oscar had followed one of the suspected handlers who picked up the contraband from Václav, and he had led him all the way to Jaroslav. But once he had discovered Oscar on his tail, he had shot his way into the maintenance office and taken shelter in one of the hangars on the far side of the airfield. Now, with the capture of Václav, this particular drug operation had officially ended.
That evening, during a relaxed dinner with Oscar and Judy over a couple of bottles of Bohemia Sekt Brut Chardonnay, Harsh could not help but laugh again and again over the incident last night when he had been convinced that Oscar had come to murder him. Oscar looked at Judy and asked in a loud whisper, "Should we do it now?" With that all three fell back in their seats with unbridled merriment.
