When he looked up, his father’s expression was almost unchanged, other than a quick glance at Piotr Ilyin and the thinning of his lips that indicated he might be repressing confusion.
Raphael said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You do know what I mean,Wachtmeister Dieter Schwarz.”
That name again, but this time with his Swiss military rank equivalent to Sergeant, too.
Piotr knew.
Raphael studied his hands and breathed, trying to buy time.
Piotr removed a folded paper from the pocket inside his suit coat. “You have been a busy lad since you disappeared, haven’t you? One just needs to know where to look.”
The paper flopped open on the table.
Dates.
Dieter Schwarz’smilitary records, commendations, and honorable discharge.
The name Wulfram von Hannover.
Addresses in Rolle, London, Chicago, and the American Southwest.
Dates for his marriage to and divorce from Gretchen, and her appallingly recent birthdate. Raphael drank whiskey older than that.
A notation that he had taken a first-class Bachelor of Science degree from the London School of Economics andPolitical Science in Economic History and Geography, and a Master’s in Business Administration from the London Business School.
The incorporation details for the Swiss holding company Rogue International Security, AG, with both Dieter Schwarz and Raphael Mirabaud listed among the principal investors and operators.
Piotr tapped low on the paper. “That was your mistake. The corporation for RogueSecurity is the only place I’ve found that ties your names together. We researched all the principal investors in your company, but we couldn’t find significant papers on this elusive Dieter Schwarz, a citizen of Switzerland, who had sprung into being in the military at the age of eighteen with no past. Nice military record, by the way. Very impressive. Maneuvering a heroin shipment through anItalian port must have been a walk in the park for you. After we got your new name, working backward was easy, or so my IT people tell me. When we tracedhim,certain legal documents bearingyourname came to light.”
Piotr’s hackers shouldn’t have been able to find the names on the incorporation papers. Layers of shell companies should have prevented it. Blaise Lyon and Wulfram’s attorneys hadassured Dieter that the investors’ names would be shielded from any inquiry or probe.
Yet, there they were.
Cold air blew down from an air conditioner in the ceiling.
Piotr dug his knife into his steak, slicing off another piece of meat. He paused with it halfway to his mouth to say, “You don’t think that I would let an unknown person shepherd a large heroin shipment through customs on merelythe word of my banker, do you?”
Valerian looked down at his plate.
Raphael asked Piotr, “What do you want?”
Piotr sat back. “That’s quite the question, isn’t it?”
“It’s a very specific question.”
“I think you know the answer.”
Yes, he did.
Raphael stared at the smears of blood and meat on the porcelain plate in front of him. “All of it. You want all of it.”
Piotr leaned forward, loomingto Raphael’s side. “Every last man, all the records, every last drop of intel. Your men at Rogue Security work for me now.”
Raphael couldn’t look up, couldn’t even lift his eyes to look at his father to see if he’d known this was going to happen.
Piotr continued, “From what little we can gather, you’ve put together one of the deadliest mercenary armies in the world. It’s not large, but it doesn’thave to be because each of those men is a force multiplier.”
