The Exchange: After The Firm

So far, he had told them nothing they did not already know. He went on, “For at least forty years the Libyans have fought with their neighbors, Egypt to the east, Chad to the south. In southern Ubari, there is a strong revolutionary movement, fiercely anti-Gaddafi. In the past five years a warlord named Adheem Barakat has managed to kill off many of his rivals and consolidate power. He’s a hard-liner who wants Libya to become an Islamic state and kick out all Western companies and economic interests. He’s also a terrorist who enjoys bloodshed. In that regard, he’s one of many.”

Darian tapped a key and the face of Barakat was suddenly glowering at them. Full black beard, sinister black eyes, white hijab, two bandoliers of shiny bullets draped over his shoulders and crossing over his chest. “Age about forty, educated in Damascus, family unknown. Fully committed to overthrowing the regime.”

“So he can have the oil,” Jack Ruch said.

“Yes, so he can have the oil,” Darian repeated.

Mitch studied the face and had no trouble believing the man could order wholesale bloodshed. He shuddered at the thought that he had Giovanna somewhere in his possession. He asked, “And why do we believe he’s the man?”

“We’re not sure. Again, until they make contact we’re just speculating. However, last month Barakat attempted to blow up a refinery here, near the city of Sarir. It was a well-planned and tactically impressive raid involving about a hundred men, and it probably would’ve worked but for a breakdown in security. The Libyans were tipped off at the last minute and the army showed up. Several dozen were killed on both sides, though we never get the exact numbers. Not a word on the world news scene. Two of Barakat’s men were captured and tortured. Under extreme duress, they talked before they were hung. If they can be believed, his organization now has several thousand well-armed gunmen operating on various fronts. They are committed to driving out foreign investment. Gaddafi has sold out to the West and so on, and this is motivating the revolutionaries. One of the captives said the bridge in the desert is still a target. We have an asset in Libya who confirms this. Barakat has been operating closer and closer to Tripoli, sort of daring Gaddafi to commit to a fight. He’ll probably get what he wants.”

Mitch was suddenly bored with the briefing. Crueggal could confirm almost nothing, and Darian was working too hard to impress Scully with information that was not reliable. Not for the first time in the past week, he caught himself longing for the old days when he could practice law without worrying about hostages and terrorism.

Jack Ruch, known for his lack of patience, said, “So, we’re still just guessing.”

“We’re getting closer,” Darian said coolly. “We’ll get there.”

“Okay, and when we know who has Giovanna, then what? Who makes decisions at that point?”

“That depends on what they want.”

“Got that. Let’s play hypotheticals. She has British citizenship, right, so what if the Brits decide to go in with guns blazing? But the Italians say no. The Libyans say yes. The family says no. The Americans, who knows? But does it really matter? She’s in Libya, we think, and as long as she’s there our options are basically zero, right?”

“It’s fluid, Jack, it changes daily. We can’t begin to make plans until we know a lot more.”

Cory asked, “How many people do you have on the ground in Libya right now?”

“Contacts, agents, double agents, assets, runners, probably a dozen. All are being paid, bribed, whatever it takes. Some are old trusted assets, others have just been recruited. It’s a murky world, Cory, with uncertain loyalties and fragile relationships.”

Mitch drank some coffee and decided he’d had enough caffeine for the morning. He looked at the face of Adheem Barakat and asked, “What are the chances this guy has Giovanna?”

Darian shrugged and kicked it around for a moment. “Sixty-forty.”

“Okay, and if he does have her, then what does he want?”

“The easy answer is money. A fat ransom to buy more guns and pay more soldiers. The other answer is more complicated. He may not want an exchange. He may do something dramatic, something awful, to announce his presence to the world.”

“Kill her?”

“Unfortunately, that is a real possibility.”

Chapter 18

In Giovanna’s absence, Mitch needed an ambitious associate to step in and do the grunt work. There was no shortage of them at Scully; indeed, the firm hired three hundred of the brightest law grads each spring and marched them through the meat grinder of 100-hour workweeks and relentless deadlines. After a year, the blue-chippers began to emerge from the pack. After two years, those falling behind were jumping ship, but by then the veterans could spot the lifers, the future partners.