The Exchange: After The Firm

Now she wanted a reschedule, a nuisance in every lawyer’s opinion but not an uncommon one. Mitch was of the opinion that the board was curious about the case because of its sudden notoriety. Virtually all of the other cases on its docket were exceedingly boring disputes from the other side of the world. Nothing could match a half-billion-dollar fight that involved a bridge in the desert, four beheadings, several related murders, and the saga of a missing Scully associate. When Mitch first received the notice to appear for the reschedule, he thought seriously about asking for a postponement, which was standard practice. A thirty- to ninety-day continuance would have been granted. However, after conversations with Lannak, it was agreed that the hearing in Geneva would be a better time and place to meet and discuss the lawsuit.

Mitch and Stephen flew to Rome and visited with Luca in his villa. Two weeks had passed since Giovanna’s abduction and there was still no word from her captors. The days were getting no easier for Luca. He seldom ate or slept and was losing weight. He was due for another round of chemo but simply wasn’t up to it. He was bickering with his doctors and unhappy with the home nurses. He was, however, pleased to see Mitch and even had a glass of wine, his first in days.

With Roberto Maggi, the team spent two hours in Luca’s home office going over strategies, then flew to Geneva where they met the men from Lannak: Omar Celik, the CEO and grandson of Lannak’s founder; Denys Tullos, his chief lawyer and Mitch’s principal contact; and Omar’s son, Adem, a graduate of Princeton and the future owner of the company. They were not Muslim and enjoyed alcohol. After cocktails in the hotel bar, they walked to a restaurant and settled in for the evening. Joining them late was Jens Bitterman, a Swiss lawyer who was part of the team and handled the dealings with the UAB.

Omar had been close to Luca for over twenty years and was concerned about his friend. He had met Giovanna on a number of occasions as she was growing up. Several times Luca and his family had vacationed at the Celik beach estate on the Black Sea. Omar was, of course, angered by the fact that the Libyans owed him $400 million for the bridge, money he was determined to collect, but he was much more concerned about Giovanna’s welfare.

In one of their many conversations, Denys Tullos told Mitch that the company was financing private security deep inside Libya in an effort to find her. Mitch relayed this to Darian Kasuch at Crueggal, who was not surprised. “Join the crowd,” he said.

The hearing was scheduled for 2 P.M., Thursday, April 28. Mitch and his team spent the morning in a hotel conference room with the Celiks and Denys Tullos. They reviewed Luca’s timetable and looked for ways to streamline the mountain of discovery still to be done. They debated the strategy of amending the lawsuit to include damages for the deaths of the four security guards and Youssef, all Lannak employees. Early on, Omar took control of the meeting and proved why he was regarded as a tough corporate boss who didn’t back down. He had been fighting with the Libyans for over twenty years, and while he usually got paid he was fed up. No more projects there. He doubted the regime was responsible for the ambush and bloodshed because it had always promised to protect foreign workers, especially those with Lannak. It was clear to Omar that Gaddafi was losing control of much of his territory and could no longer be trusted. Omar certainly wanted the lawsuit expanded to cover the deaths, to hold the Libyan government responsible, but agreed with Mitch that more time was needed. Walid would likely be found with his throat cut. No one could predict what would happen to Giovanna. At the moment there were too many unknowns to map out strategies.

After a sandwich for lunch they taxied to the Palais de Justice and went to the courtroom on the fifth floor. Waiting outside in the vast, empty hall were two reporters. One, with a camera hanging from his neck, was with a London tabloid, the other from a broadsheet. They asked Mitch if he had time to chat. He offered a polite no, kept walking, and entered the courtroom.

It was a wide, tall room with soaring windows, plenty of light, and enough seating for hundreds of spectators. But, there were none — only small groups of lawyers huddled here and there, whispering gravely as they watched each other from across the room.

The bench was an imposing piece of furniture, at least eighty feet long and made of some dark, rich wood that had probably been harvested two hundred years earlier. It stood six feet tall, and behind it were twenty leather rockers that swiveled and rolled. They were identical, deep burgundy in color, and exactly the same height so that the magistrates, when court was in session, looked down at the lawyers and litigants from positions of great knowledge and power.