“With all due respect, how are you going to hide it? You’ve already got five kidnappings, one of which has turned into a murder.”
“We’re trying very hard to keep it out of the press. So far, we’ve been successful.”
“There’s no way that’ll hold,” Harvath replied.
“We’ve asked the families and law enforcement for their cooperation, and so far they’ve been on board, but now with a murder things are going to be different,” Jacobson said. “We’ve got maybe forty-eight hours, seventy-two tops before this story is everywhere.”
Lewis nodded and Jacobson pulled a sheet of paper from his file and pushed it across to their guests. “This is a list of the missing candidates.”
Harvath and the Old Man studied it together.
Marcourt, Claire—New York City
Mitchell, Betsy—Seattle
Penning, Herman—Boston
Renner, Jonathan—San Francisco
Whalen, Peter—Chicago
“I’ve never heard of any of these people,” Harvath finally said.
“Me neither,” the Old Man replied. “Who are they?”
“Private sector people. Investment banking mostly,” said Lewis. “Because of the trouble the economy has been having and the way fingers have been pointed at us, we were considering bringing our next chairman or chairwoman from outside of the Federal Reserve. Sort of a breath of fresh air as it were.”
Harvath looked at him. “How many people knew these were your top picks?”
“It was quietly known inside the organization.”
“And outside of it?”
“The candidates themselves knew, and there were some financial reporters who had speculated on who might be on our list, though as far as we know, no one had come close to winnowing it down to our five.”
“And the Bureau is aware of all of this?”
“All of it,” said Jacobson. “They’ve already begun interviewing everyone here who had any knowledge of things. Our number-one goal is getting the kidnap victims recovered and making sure the perpetrators are dealt with. That’s why we’re having this meeting with you.”
“Dealt with?” Harvath repeated. “I’m sorry, but what exactly is it that you think we do?”
The Old Man put his hand on Harvath’s forearm. “They came to us because of our kidnap and ransom expertise.”
Harvath knew that wealthy companies and individuals often brought in kidnapping specialists to augment the efforts of the FBI. “There are plenty of people who do K-and-R,” he stated. “Why us specifically?”
“Because,” said Lewis. “We want the best and you came very highly recommended.”
“By whom?”
“I think the response you’re searching for,” the Old Man corrected Harvath, “is thank you.”
“That’s all right,” Lewis said. “Mr. Harvath, Stephanie Gallo has been a personal friend of mine for many years. She was also a friend of Chairman Sawyer’s before he passed away. When her daughter was kidnapped while doing aid work in Afghanistan, you were the person the President personally recommended she hire to cut through all the red tape and bring her back alive, which is exactly what you did.”
Harvath remembered the case. The Taliban had captured Gallo’s daughter Julia and were holding her hostage in exchange for the release of a very dangerous Al-Qaeda operative. Not many people knew of Harvath’s involvement, much less that the President had quietly recommended him to the Gallo family.
“We don’t discuss our clients or any of our operations,” he replied.
“And I respect that,” Lewis stated. “Like I said, we need someone who can keep quiet.”
The Old Man tapped Harvath on the forearm again. “It’s okay. The Gallo family knows that we’re meeting with Mr. Lewis.”
“Even so,” said Harvath, “that was Afghanistan. This is the United States. The rules are different, a lot different. I’m not saying we can’t help, but without a ransom demand this is almost entirely a law enforcement function. There’s only so much a K-and-R team will be allowed to do.”
“You’ll have all of our resources at your disposal,” said Lewis, “including the aircraft, which is being held at Reagan with a fresh crew standing by.”
Harvath wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. He had several more questions, none of which were appropriate to ask in front of Lewis and Jacobson. He needed to speak with the Old Man privately. The prospective clients, though, were not content to afford him that opportunity.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of time for you to think this over,” Lewis stated. “I need to know now, whether you’re in or you’re out.”
Before Harvath could respond, Reed Carlton answered for both of them. “We’re in.”
CHAPTER 11
“They’re a client with a license to print their own money,” said Carlton as he drove toward Harvath’s home on the outskirts of Alexandria, Virginia. He was in a much better mood now that their meeting was over and they had the assignment. “That’s not something that falls into your lap every day.”
“Technically,” Harvath replied, “they don’t print their own money. And, as a wise man once told me, they don’t make ice cream, either.”
“What’s the matter with you all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, snap out of it. Between this job and once we get paid on the Sienna Star, we’ll be back in the black.”
“What are you charging Monroe Lewis?”
“I’m not charging him, I’m charging the Federal Reserve. I came in high because I expected him to negotiate us down on our fee, but he didn’t. He’s even wiring us half of everything up front. You, though, for some reason seemed bound and determined to kill this deal. If I’d had my weapon, I might have put a bullet in you right there myself.”
Harvath shook his head. “None of this bothers you?”
“Of course it bothers me. Every assignment we take bothers me. Each one has its share of headaches and blind alleys. That’s why people call us. But despite all the problems, we always find a way through. It’s what we do.”
It’s what I do, thought Harvath. And while he didn’t discount the Old Man’s genius, Carlton didn’t do much if any fieldwork anymore. It was always Harvath who was being sent into shitholes around the world having to face danger on a regular basis. There was a ton of it he loved, but there was some he was starting to dislike.
“Listen, for Monroe Lewis and his crew money is literally no object. At some point, someone in the press is going to connect the dots and this is going to be a huge story. In fact, I don’t even know how long they’ll be able to keep the murder down in Georgia quiet. When this thing does go supernova on them, they’re going to want to appear to have done everything they could, which includes bringing in a K-and-R team to assist the FBI. They’re hedging their bets.”
The Old Man was right. Harvath didn’t want to dwell on it. “Where do we begin?” he asked.
Carlton signaled and merged into a faster-moving lane. “Jacobson gave us his file with everything on the kidnappings plus what they have on the murder. I think we ought to start there.”
“Speaking of which, did you notice how her body was laid out?”
“On the bed of logs? Weird, huh?”
“Not so much weird as purposeful,” Harvath replied.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because whoever killed her was sending a very specific message.”
“Of course they were,” the Old Man stated. “They’re some wacko group that thinks the Fed is comprised of a bunch of tyrants.”