The Exchange: After The Firm

Samir smiled and lit a cigarette. “It’s not that easy, Roberto. My country is a vast desert with many hiding places. Its borders are porous, its neighbors are rarely friendly and often treacherous. There are many warlords, tribes, gangs, terrorists, and thieves, and they’ve roamed the desert for centuries. It’s impossible for anyone, including a violent dictator like Gaddafi, to exercise a firm grip.”

“And the first commando raid was not a success.”

“Not really, in spite of what was reported. Sounds like nothing went as planned.”

“Was the goal to rescue Giovanna?”

“That’s the rumor, but then most of the rumors started by the military are not reliable.” Samir spoke like a disinterested man on the street, not a career informant.

“What happened in the second raid?”

“The second?” Samir asked with raised eyebrows, a lame effort to feign ignorance.

“The one last night, near the town of Ghat, on the Algerian border. Surely you heard about it, though evidently it’s being buried by the government. Looks like the army walked into another trap and things went badly. No mention of Giovanna.”

“Your intelligence is better than mine, Roberto.”

“Sometimes. We pay a small fortune for it.”

“I know only what I read in the newspaper, which is rarely accurate.”

Roberto nodded along as if he believed him. “Here’s the danger, Samir. The army doesn’t know where she is and they still don’t know who has her. They’ve tried two commando raids to rescue her and have nothing to show but casualties and embarrassment. They’re desperate. Gaddafi could lose his mind and turn this into a full-scale war. If that happens then a lot of people will die. Including Giovanna.”

Samir nodded along, agreeing with the logic. He said, “He loses his mind all the time. Sort of a habit.”

Roberto lit his own cigarette, sipped his wine, and let a moment pass. “There’s a confidential matter, Samir. Of utmost importance and it has to be handled carefully.”

“I’m at your service.”

And the Colonel’s as well. “Contact has been made. Not here, not with the family, but in New York, through the law firm.”

Samir could not suppress a look of disbelief. He inhaled quickly as his head twitched slightly to the right, then he collected himself. “By the terrorists?”

“Yes. With a demand for ransom and a deadline for an execution. We have eight more days.”

“Who are they?”

“We don’t know. The communications are coming from a mysterious contact in New York. Quite brilliant, actually.”

“How much ransom?”

“I can’t say. A lot. More than Luca and our law firm can scrape together. I know you have contacts everywhere in Libya, Samir. Can you get a message to the right people?”

“And who are the right people?”

“The ones who make the final decisions about everything in Libya.”

“Gaddafi himself?”

“If you say so.”

“No, I have no link to the man, nor do I want one.”

“But you can make it happen, Samir. The message is twofold. First, leave the terrorists alone until Giovanna is safe. Second, settle the Lannak lawsuit as soon as possible and on our terms.”

Bella eased behind them and said, in Italian, “Gentlemen, dinner is served.” Roberto acknowledged her but neither man moved.

“The lawsuit?” Samir asked.

“Yes. The government owes the money. It can pay now and close the matter, or it can spend a fortune in legal fees and pay the money three years from now. Settling the lawsuit now might possibly help to bring Giovanna home.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“The ransom, Samir. It’s all about the money. We’re trying to collect a lot of money and Lannak will be at the table.”

“You want the Libyan government to pay the ransom?”

“Of course not. We want the government to honor its contracts and pay the money it rightfully owes to settle the lawsuit.”

Samir stood and walked to the edge of the veranda. He lit another cigarette and for a long time stared into the distance, seeing nothing. After a few minutes, Roberto joined him. “We should have dinner, Samir.”

“Okay. Perhaps my connections are not as strong as you think, Roberto. I’m not sure where to go with this request.”

“We don’t know either. That’s why Luca wanted you here. He should feel better tomorrow.”

Mitch skipped dinner and went for a walk along Charlotte Street in Fitzrovia. He and Abby had lived in the upscale neighborhood back then and it was still their favorite part of London.