Читать книгу New Empires Rising - Mike Trial - Страница 4

“Mr. Iselin? Sorry to call you at home, especially so early,” Jason Wolfe said smoothly, not sounding sorry in the least. He spoke American English, but there was a hint of an accent JD could not quite place.

“What can I do for you?” JD said, watching two hummingbirds bickering over control of the bird feeder. His backyard view of a clear autumn morning on dew-wet grass was one of his favorites. Strong Sumatran coffee, a comfortable chair…this was JD’s favorite time of year and time of day. He’d get rid of Wolfe quickly, he told himself.

He was looking forward to a leisurely breakfast with Cheryl, then a visit to the National Gallery, as he’d been promising for weeks.

“I need security for an oil platform off the coast of Senegal.”

“I understand Andy Mitchell’s company, Maritime Security, has a new contract in West Africa. Isn’t that for your installation?”

“You’re well-informed,” Wolfe said. “Yes. We have an agreement with Maritime Security to put a security team on an oil platform that’s just been put in place. But now his office tells us there will be a delay.”

“He was moving his arsenal ship from the Indian Ocean to West Africa, I understand,” JD said.

“That was one of the reasons we engaged his firm. We plan to expand our operations in West Africa, and having a firm with its own mobile security base there from day one seemed ideal. Now I’m not so certain we hired the right firm.”

“Andy’s been in this business for many years. His experience...”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but perhaps he’s been at it a bit too long. Perhaps it’s time for new blood.”

JD said nothing. He made it a point to never criticize another private military company to clients.

“Has Maritime told you the nature of their delay?” JD asked.

“They just repeat that the ship is behind schedule coming round the coast of Africa. We can’t seem to get them to commit to an arrival date. And I can’t take the risk of leaving that platform completely unmanned. I’ve asked the Cairn Energy ocean tug to stay there just to have someone watching over the platform. They are eager to move their ship to another of their operations, but have agreed to stay a week. That was four days ago. I’m told you have men in Lagos, Nigeria doing oil field security. It is only an hour’s flight from Lagos to Dakar, and the oil platform is offshore of a town called Asara, about three hours’ drive down the coast. Your men could be there in a day.”

“You also seem to be well-informed,” JD said thoughtfully, the wheels in his head already starting to turn. Flash and Team One could fly to Senegal directly from Nigeria, where their contract was ending, and they would be up to speed on African oil field operations. And guarding an unmanned oil platform for a week didn’t sound too risky—security duty really. No heavy weapons in Senegal or Nigeria for that matter, so it would just be a matter of keeping people off the platform.

“I’m hesitating for two reasons. Maritime operations are not our specialty, and my men have been working shifts for thirty days in Nigeria and need some time off.”

“Would $500,000 relieve your hesitancy?”

“Very generous,” JD said, surprised.

“I’m rather desperate to protect that oil platform,” Wolfe went on. “It represents many millions of dollars of investment by my firm. To sweeten the deal, I will also offer you a one-week consulting contract, the objective being to assess the security needs of the entire Senegalese oil operation and provide us a written plan. You’re welcome to do that work in my London office. Expenses paid, of course.”

A week in London, JD thought. That’s attractive.

“Would $100,000 plus expenses be acceptable for you to do the security analysis?” Wolfe prompted.

“$200,000 plus expenses would be exactly right,” JD countered.

“Done,” Wolfe said without hesitation. “Have your people notify my people of your bank info, and you’ll receive the first half of the payment today. I took the liberty of making you a reservation on this afternoon’s flight from Washington DC to London.”

“Today?” JD hesitated. But Wolfe’s offer is more than generous, and neither the platform security nor writing a security analysis should be too difficult. “Alright. I’ll be in your office tomorrow.”

JD glanced around and saw Cheryl standing on the terrace, coffee cup in hand. JD knew she had heard him agree to another operation, starting immediately.

She turned without a word and went into the house.

JD swirled the ice in his glass at the clouds dotting the dark blue Atlantic Ocean. Evening was swiftly falling as the airliner swept east toward London.

“Another one, sir?” The flight attendant had the bottle of Jameson whiskey raised to fill his glass.

“Yes, thank you.”

Cheryl is making it clear she’s not happy with me. That hurts. I’ve given Cheryl all the things she’s ever wanted. Everything but children, he reminded himself. But I think she’s gotten past that.

He sipped the whiskey. And I’ve made Lori Turner the first woman CEO of a PMC. No glass ceiling in my organization. And Iselin Security Options was the first to have regular mixed male-female security teams. Still...nobody seems very happy these days.

JD had stopped at his office in Crystal City, and Lori had met him there as he’d asked.

“Can you have someone get tickets to Flash, Lagos to Dakar, and have our courier service air freight a weapons set to Dakar? Also have someone contact Wolfe’s office, and have him send the down payment to our Caymans account. We don’t want the money coming here, do we?”

“No.” Lori continued to tap keys on the laptop she’d brought with her into the secure communications room. She’d come directly to the office from her gym, and was wearing a long-sleeved blue hooded sweatshirt, her chewed fingernails visible. The hood was flipped back, revealing dark hair in Medusa-like spikes.

JD stood up. “My travel bag still in the storage room?”

“Yes.”

JD eyed Lori, who was still sitting tapping keys on her laptop. “Something wrong?”

“I thought I was CEO of this company,” she said.

“Do you disagree with anything I’ve committed this company to this morning?”

“No.”

JD stood there watching her fingers flashing over the keys. I don’t have time for this, he thought, then tamped his anger down and said, “You’re right. We should have discussed it first, then you should have made both decisions.” JD put a smile on his face. “I’ll try to do better in the future.”

Lori stayed focused on what she was typing. “The next time a potential new client like Wolfe phones, will you refer him to me?”

JD tilted his head. “Yes. I will. New clients ask for me since I’ve been the face of ISO for twenty years. Once they’ve gotten to know you, the phone calls will be for you. It takes a little time.”

“Alright,” Lori said. Still no trace of a smile. “I’ve asked Allen to work tickets, visas, and passports for the team, and to get a box of armaments air-freighted to Banjul, Gambia, not Senegal.”

JD raised his eyebrows.

Lori’s dark eyes held his. “The Gambian authorities are much more bribe-receptive than the Senegalese. Allen’s not going to like coming in to the office on a moment’s notice. It is Sunday morning, you know.” She looked up at JD, then back at her screen, logging off and closing the computer. “Yes, you still have a travel bag in the storage room. I’ll unlock it.” She walked quickly down the corridor, and JD followed, sighing silently.

En route to Dulles Airport in the company car, JD got out his worldwide Iridium phone and called Flash in Lagos. The connection was surprisingly clear. “I know you must be heartbroken to leave Nigeria,” JD joked.

“Not heartbroken, but we’ll be glad to see home,” Flash said slowly. “No big problems, but four weeks of shift-on, shift-off is enough. There’s a lot of tension among the locals here. Lots of minor terrorist acts, driven by desperation and frustration rather than a thought-out plan. And that’s what makes them so dangerous for us. They are unpredictable—lot of stress on the team.”

“Well...there’s a situation in Senegal I want to take advantage of. New client, looks very lucrative, but it would mean you and Team One would fly directly from Nigeria to Banjul, Gambia, then cross the border to the Senegalese town of Asara. It’s faster than flying to Dakar and driving three hours down the coast.”

There was silence on the phone for a minute. “How long would we be in Senegal?” He could visualize Flash pushing his cowboy hat down low over his eyes as he thought this over.

“A week,” JD told him. “We’re to provide security for an offshore oil platform. Should be pretty straightforward. The platform is not in service yet, so I don’t expect there’ll be any trouble at all. The owner’s contracted with Maritime Security, but their men are delayed.”

“We’ve already shipped our gear back to the States...” Flash began.

“Lori’s air-expressing another box to Banjul,” JD countered. “It’ll be waiting for you at the airport.”

Again silence.

“And this should make you feel better: I’m authorizing premium pay for all of you until the Op is over.”

“That’s generous. ...but I need to talk to the team first,” Flash told him. “Still... I don’t expect there’ll be any objections. If you don’t hear from me within an hour, it means everybody’s agreed and we’re on our way.”

“Thanks!” JD said. “If Banjul immigration questions you, your story is that you are contract oil workers going to the offshore platform called ESTA-20, owned by Global Oil Investments—a British firm. Use the British passports you were using in Nigeria, and your World Tech Services IDs.” JD paused for effect. “An ocean tug will be waiting for you at the dock at Asara. It’s operated by an Australian firm called Cairn Energy. It will take you out to the platform.”

JD tilted seat 2A back and tried to put both Cheryl and Lori out of his mind. But he couldn’t.

He knew he was not treating either of them as he should. But dammit, in this business, you have to grab when the work comes your way, even if it is Sunday and you have plans to go into Washington and visit the National Gallery Vermeer show. And yes, I should have discussed all this with Lori before I made a commitment to Wolfe, but I didn’t. I’m used to making decisions fast. Sometimes you have to act based on instinct. Lori tries to do too much research. Clients are always in a hurry. They never call a PMC until the situation has gotten critical. I know I hurt Lori’s feelings this morning. But it takes time for her to build her contacts. After she does, clients will be calling her, not me.

JD held up his empty glass, and the flight attendant refilled it. And Cheryl...I have got to start spending more time with Cheryl like I promised I would when I turned the company over to Lori. I haven’t kept that promise.

JD rolled the warming liquor on his tongue, savoring the hint of vanilla. Wonder what the real story is with Mitchell’s arsenal ship. No matter, we’ll fill in until his team gets there, and go home with a fat paycheck.