The Exchange: After The Firm

Neither the British nor the Americans used diplomats when dealing with Libya. After President Reagan bombed the country in 1986, an undeclared state of war had been in effect. After that, any contact with Gaddafi and his minions was complicated and fraught with intrigue. Further compounding the situation was the fact that no American was involved. Giovanna had dual Italian and British citizenship. Scully & Pershing was headquartered in New York, but it was a law firm, a corporation, not a person. Nevertheless, the U.S. State Department and its intelligence services were on high alert, watching the internet and listening to the chatter. And they were hearing nothing. Satellite images had yet to produce anything.

British spies in Tripoli were likewise scrambling for gossip. The details, though, were still vague, and their usually reliable sources knew virtually nothing.

As of 10 P.M. there was still no word from the kidnappers. No one knew what to call them because no one knew who they were. Terrorists, thugs, revolutionaries, tribal warriors, fundamentalists, insurgents, bandits — many descriptions were in play. Since the state controlled the press, there had been no confirmation of the story. Not a single word had been leaked to the Western media.

Samir spent the long, miserable afternoon and evening sitting with Mitch in his hospital room and walking around the parking lot with his phone stuck to his ear. Neither was pleasant. Mitch had been quite ill with what was probably food poisoning. Dr. Omran could find no other cause. The vomiting and diarrhea had finally stopped, because there was nothing left in his system. He was still afraid to eat and had no appetite. His physical problems, though, had vanished with the shocking news of the ambush. Now Mitch was just trying to get out of the hospital.

Samir’s contacts with the military police had told him little. He had been assured it was not a government ploy to force Lannak out of the country minus, of course, the $400 million or so it was demanding for the damned bridge. His sources seemed to be in the dark like everyone else. He was suspicious, though, because he hated Gaddafi and knew his capacity for depravity was boundless. He kept such thoughts to himself.

At 11 P.M., Eastern Standard Time, Scully made the decision to extract Mitch McDeere from Tripoli. The firm had an insurance policy that provided emergency evacuation for any of its lawyers who might fall ill in a country with less than desirable health care. Libya qualified. Jack Ruch called the insurance company, which had already been notified and was standing by. He then called Mitch, for the third time, and they haggled over the details. Mitch wanted to stay because he didn’t want to leave without Giovanna. On the other hand, he wanted to leave because he still felt awful and never wanted to set foot on Libyan soil again. He had talked to Abby twice and she was adamant that he get out as soon as possible. Ruch argued, in clear and forceful language, that Mitch couldn’t do a damned thing to help find Giovanna and her security team and he’d be foolish to try.

At 6:30 A.M., Saturday, April 16, Mitch was placed in a wheelchair and rolled out of the hospital and into an ambulance. Samir stayed by his side, as did a nurse. Forty minutes later, they stopped on the tarmac in a section of the airfield not seen or used by the general public. Half a dozen corporate jets were parked and watched by armed security guards. A silver Gulfstream 600 was waiting. Mitch insisted on walking up the steps and boarding under his own power. A doctor and a nurse were waiting and immediately strapped him to a comfortable gurney. He shook hands with Samir and said goodbye.

His pulse and blood pressure were too high, but that was not unusual, given the excitement of the past hour. His temperature was slightly elevated. He drank a cup of ice water but turned down some crackers. The doctor asked if he wanted to sleep and he said yes, by all means. The nurse handed him two pills, with some more water, and he was snoring before the Gulfstream took off.

The flight to Rome was one hour and fifty minutes. He did not wake up until the doctor patted his arm and said it was time to disembark. With the help of one of the pilots, he managed to descend the steps and crawl into the rear of another ambulance.

At Gemelli Hospital in central Rome, Mitch was taken to a private room and examined again. Everything was normal and the doctor said he would be released before noon. After the nurses left, a Scully partner named Roberto Maggi entered the room and said hello. The two had met several times over the years but were not close. He had been with Luca all afternoon and they were, of course, in shock. Luca had not been feeling well before the news. Now, he was sedated and under the care of his doctor.