One look and Mitch knew the news was not good.
“There’s been another development,” Cory said abruptly.
“I’m beginning to hate the word ‘development.’ ”
“Mr. Ruch is waiting.”
On the elevator, Cory told Mitch everything he knew about Youssef, which was little more than the location and condition of his corpse. It had been found about nine hours earlier and, not surprisingly, there had been no word from the people who strung him up.
Jack Ruch was irritated because he’d wanted the teleconference at 7 A.M., which did not fit with Mitch’s schedule. Ruch still worked sixteen hours a day and was known for predawn meetings to prove his toughness. Mitch had lost all patience for such shows of machismo at Scully.
Ruch pointed to a conference table as he glanced at a large screen high on the wall. Nonstop cable news was covering an earthquake but, thankfully, it was muted. Nothing, yet, from Libya. A secretary poured coffee and Ruch said, “I assume Cory has given you the latest.”
“I got the elevator version,” Mitch replied.
“That’s about all we have as of now.” He glanced at the screen again as if expecting more news at any moment. The secretary left the room and closed the door. Ruch cracked his knuckles, looked at Mitch, and asked, “Have you spoken to Lannak this morning?”
“Not yet. It’s first on my list.”
“Get it done. They’re rattled and very upset. Their in-house counsel is Denys Tullos.”
“I know him.”
“Good. I talked to him last night. The company is trying to get the four bodies back home and the Libyans are not cooperating, still pissed about the lawsuit. Everyone is. Lannak wants its money, and now it wants a lot more because of Libya’s failure to protect foreign workers, something it has always promised. So, the lawsuit will probably be amended to seek more damages. When is it likely to go to trial?”
“Months, maybe a year from now. Who knows?”
“Okay. I want you to step on the gas, Mitch, and get this case before the judges. Lannak is a valuable client, paid us something like sixteen million in fees last year. Make plans to meet with them in the next week or so to make them feel better.”
“Got it.”
“How big is your team?”
“Well, I had two associates, including Giovanna. Now I’m not so sure. Roberto Maggi in Rome will stay on.”
“Okay. We’ll discuss personnel later. Right now we have a much bigger problem. A Scully associate has been kidnapped in Libya and we have to do everything possible to get her released. You know Benson Wall, our manager in Washington?”
“Yes, I’ve met him.”
“Benson will join us in a moment by video. We have three partners in D.C. who worked in either State or CIA, so we have some contacts. Ever heard of an outfit called Crueggal?”
“Sounds like a breakfast cereal.”
“Far from it. Cory.”
Cory expertly took the handoff and didn’t miss a beat. “You won’t find the company on the internet or anywhere else. It’s a bunch of ex-spooks and military intel experts who operate around the world as a super-security firm on par with MI6, Mossad, CIA, KGB, and so on. They tend to go where the trouble is, so they spend a lot of time in the Middle East. Without a doubt they are the best at handling a hostage situation involving a Westerner. They’ve had plenty of practice and a good record.”
“And we’ve hired them?” Mitch asked.
“Yes.”
Ruch said, “Because we operate globally, and go into some places that are not as safe as we’d like, we carry a lot of insurance, Mitch. Hostage negotiators, ransom, stuff like that.”
“Military operations?”
“Not covered. And not expected.”
Cory said, “The quickest way to get a hostage killed is to send in the dogs.”
“The dogs?”
“Hotshots with guns and itchy fingers, cops or special ops or otherwise. Diplomacy, negotiation, and money work much better in these situations. Ever heard of K and R insurance?”
“Maybe.”
“Kidnap and ransom. It’s a huge industry and most big insurance companies offer it.”
Ruch said, “We’ve carried it for years but it’s a secret. We don’t talk about it because the kidnappers might get excited if they know we’re insured.”
“So I’m covered?”
“We’re all covered.”
“For how much? What am I worth?”
Cory looked at Ruch and said nothing. The answer had to come from the boss.
“Twenty-five million,” Jack said. “Costs us a hundred grand a year.”
“Sounds like plenty. Just out of curiosity, what’s a hostage like Giovanna worth on the open market?”
Cory said, “Who knows? Throw a dart. There is a strong rumor that two years ago the French government paid thirty-eight million for a journalist being held in Somalia, denied of course. Five years ago the Spanish paid twenty million for an aid worker in Syria. But France and Spain will negotiate. Britain, Italy, and the U.S. will not, at least not officially. And there is rarely a clear line between what is a criminal gang and what’s a terrorist outfit.”
Ruch said, “That’s where Crueggal comes in. We’ve hired them, and we convinced our insurance company to use them as well.”
“Who’s our insurance company?”
“DGMX.”
“DGMX? How creative.”
“It’s a sub of a big British insurer,” Cory said.
“Anyway,” Ruch said, tiring of the small talk, “we have Benson Wall and a man named Darian Kasuch on the line. He’s an Israeli American who runs Crueggal worldwide.”
He tapped the keyboard and a screen at the end of the table came to life. Two faces appeared. Benson Wall and Darian Kasuch. Both were about fifty years old. Both stared awkwardly at the camera on their end.
Ruch made quick introductions. Mr. Wall ran Scully’s D.C. office with two hundred lawyers. He said little more than “Hello.” Mr. Kasuch didn’t even bother with that and took off with “There is no shortage of gangs that roam southern Libya, far away from Tripoli and Benghazi. They fight each other for territory but they all hate Gaddafi and at least two or three are usually planning a coup. As you know, he has survived eight attempts since he took power in 1969 and needs about ten thousand loyal soldiers to protect himself. When his enemies are not plotting to kill him, they meddle and make trouble as best they can. Kidnapping is common and it’s a profitable way for the gangs to make a buck. They like to snatch oil field workers, maybe get lucky and get an executive with British Petroleum every now and then, and it’s usually all about money. Having said that, there are some unusual aspects of this one that are disturbing. First is the appalling amount of bloodshed already on the ground. Ten dead so far.”
Darian had close-cropped gray hair, tanned leathery skin, and the hard unblinking stare of a man who’d lived in dangerous shadows and seen his share of dead bodies. Mitch was glad they were on the same team.
He continued, “This is unusual for the work of a criminal gang, more typical of terrorists. The second point is that the latest victim, the truck driver, was found very close to Benghazi. The gangs seldom go near the big cities. These two factors alone indicate that we might be dealing with a new, more ominous threat.”
He paused and Mitch asked, “So, you don’t think it’s Gaddafi?”
“No, and for several reasons. The most obvious is that his regime has dealt with foreign companies for the past thirty-five years without this type of violence. The Libyans need foreign workers and have done a good job of protecting everyone. Lannak has been there for twenty years without a serious incident. Why attack them now? Because the government is angry over the lawsuit? Doubtful. Lawsuits come and go and they always get settled. How many projects has Lannak completed in Libya?”