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“We’ll have to keep her under close surveillance until the FBI is ready to arrest Wayland Tate and everybody else in the secret partnership,” Hap said, his eyes firm yet sympathetic.

Wilson nodded noncommittally.

Hap continued, “If we don’t wait, Tate and his partners will disappear. You, Emily, and your family will continue to be at risk.”

Wilson turned his attention to the other part of Hap’s earlier comment. “What if they move her?”

“Then it will be up to the FBI to convince Tate and his partners to give her up.”

Wilson closed his eyes. The thought of losing Emily caused his body to ache, as if twisting until his bones were ready to break. When he opened his eyes, the sweat on his forehead was visible. He pushed back his moist hair. “Make your contact with the FBI,” he said. “Carter will have to accelerate his disclosure schedule.”

50

Wilson — Boston, MA

Just as expected, Wayland Tate, Robert Swatling, Jules Kamin, John Malouf, and Carter Emerson arrived at Fielder amp; Company first thing Tuesday morning to personally deliver the partnership’s five-page plan for spinning out the corporate restructuring practice. Wilson felt like a robot, having to control his emotions in their presence, but he had no choice.

Most of the day unfolded in his father’s office with his father’s partners and Leigh Tennyson, going over the details of the plan, the principal points of which were outlined in a brutally succinct document:

$900 million in cash to Fielder amp; Company;

The transfer of Malouf, Tennyson, and over two hundred consultants and staff to the new firm;

An intensive two-week transition period for physically separating corporate restructuring from all Fielder amp; Company offices and systems; and

Establishment of Malouf amp; Company as the new spin-out entity, a limited liability corporation owned and operated by the group of people currently sitting around the gray stone table, with the exception of Wilson Fielder.

On the surface the meeting was conducted very professionally, dutifully focused on the spin-out. Beneath the facade, however, everything felt surreal and creepy, like being abducted by aliens. Nevertheless, Wilson kept his cool, suppressing the urge to blow them all to kingdom come.

Discussion of the final disclosure was limited although well orchestrated. Tate projected it to occur in two year’s time. Fucking liar, Wilson thought. During the few hours they spent together, each of the six new owners of Malouf amp; Company personally promised Wilson that his father’s vision would be ultimately realized, no matter what, and that Damien Hearst would be convinced to return Emily unharmed. They all seemed so genuine, it was pathetic. Malouf and Tennyson even apologized for not being able to discuss things earlier. They were human manipulators, who could no longer do anything else.

“It was nothing personal,” Malouf said, during a short break.

“I understand,” Wilson said, acknowledging that nothing was ever personal with Malouf.

“We both wanted to tell you what was happening on the trip, but everyone else wanted to wait. I think they were afraid of how you’d react,” Tennyson said.

“Don’t worry about it, Leigh, the important thing now is to make sure this transition goes smoothly,” Wilson said, repulsed by her two-facedness.

Swatling and Kamin pretended as if they’d known Wilson for years, patting him on the back and congratulating him. Tate and Carter took turns assuming a fatherly role by giving Wilson counsel on how to proceed. It was all too bizarre and eerie-and almost convincing.

Carter seemed surprisingly adept at playing both sides. After counseling Wilson that all shared clients should be given ample opportunity to work with both firms, Wilson said, “That works both ways.”

To which Carter immediately responded, “As long as Fielder amp; Company avoids the temptation to get into the corporate restructuring business.”

“Don’t worry,” Wilson said, furrowing his brow. “We’ll refer all our corporate restructuring leads to Malouf amp; Company during the next two years. After that, there’s no obligation, right?”

“Right, but make sure that no one jumps the gun. We want to give Malouf amp; Company ample opportunity to establish itself,” Carter said.

“No problem,” Wilson returned, looking at Carter with a cynical smirk, but no one seemed to notice. He wanted to yank Carter aside and tell him he was overdoing it, but Carter was playing his own hand. Wilson had no more illusions that Tate or anyone else in the partnership, including Carter, would do anything other than serve their own purposes. What he did trust, however, was Carter’s disclosure obsession. He kept reminding himself of that moment of clarity; Carter was not his enemy.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, Fielder amp; Company issued a press release via fax and email, announcing the spin-out of the corporate restructuring practice as a strategic decision to accelerate the development of both Fielder amp; Company and the newly created Malouf amp; Company. A three-page summary of the spin-out was also sent to all past, current, and prospective Fielder amp; Company clients and affiliated firms, explaining how the corporate restructuring practice had grown autonomous over the years. This spin-out would allow the new firm to expand and enhance its unique approach to providing ad hoc staff support services to CEOs and senior executives, while allowing Fielder amp; Company to do the same with its remaining practice areas.

Things were moving rapidly, but this time Wilson was ready. He’d played his part perfectly, albeit with a deep resentment in his chest. And even though he hadn’t heard from Emily in almost twenty-four hours, he remained hopeful that Hap’s men would find her and bring her home unharmed.

Later that evening, when Wilson returned to the Back Bay apartment through a new concealed entrance, Hap was waiting with Philip Johns and Kirsten Kohl. A man in his fifties, Johns was the head of the FBI’s Boston bureau; he was medium height with thinning red hair, a weathered face, and a trim physique. Kohl was a woman in her forties, stocky but fit with sympathetic eyes, and head of the FBI’s corporate crime division.

Hap had spent the entire day briefing Johns and Kohl by telephone and in person at the Back Bay apartment. Not surprisingly to Wilson, Johns and Kohl had already obtained authorization to launch a full-scale investigation. The only remaining caveat seemed to be a review of national security implications by the U.S. Attorney General, the National Security Advisor, and the President of the United States. But according to Johns and Kohl, FBI Director Bainbridge and Deputy Director Wiseman would have the necessary approvals before tomorrow morning.

As the four of them sat down together in the living room of the apartment, Wilson asked the most pressing question on his mind. “What about Emily?”

“Nothing from the first four airports where the highest number of aircraft landed. We’ll move to the second four before dawn,” Hap said.

Wilson’s heart sank. If they couldn’t find Emily by tomorrow night, the FBI would have to negotiate her release. Would the FBI be willing to negotiate with the secret partnership?

“First of all, let me assure you that we concur with Hap’s plan to rescue Emily,” Agent Kohl said. “We have dispatched backup teams to be used, as necessary, by Hap’s leads in the field. If we haven’t found her by tomorrow night, we’ll bring the hammer down on Tate, Swatling, Kamin, and Malouf.”

“Good,” Wilson said, staring at Kohl who was staring back. There was something about her that made him feel comfortable-conviction, resolve, savvy. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he liked the feeling. Maybe it was her concern about Emily. The FBI’s involvement made him feel both relieved and anxious. He prayed they’d do the right thing.