Problems arose, Riegel was called, problems disappeared, and Riegel was quietly appreciated.
This made Kurt Riegel an extremely powerful man indeed.
The big German’s teak-paneled office in the Paris HQ suited him well. It was, like Riegel himself, large and blond and strongly built but quiet and discreet, tucked near Competitive Intelligence and IT in LaurentGroup campus’s southern wing. Along his office walls hung over a dozen hunting trophies. There was a taxidermist in Montmartre who virtually made a living on Kurt’s African safaris and Canadian expeditions. Rhino, lion, moose, and elk all stared vacantly from their perches high on the walls around the room.
It was also here where he did his daily calisthenics every afternoon at five. He was nearly to his one hundredthsweat-inducing knee bend when his outside line chirped. Several lines he could ignore until he finished his set, but this was the encrypted number, the hotline, and he’d awaited this call for most of the day.
He grabbed a towel, walked to his desk, and turned on his speakerphone.
“Riegel.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Riegel. This is Lloyd, from Legal.”
Riegel sipped from a bottle of vitamin-infused water as he sat down on the edge of his desk.
“Lloyd from Legal. What can I do for you?” Riegel’s voice was powerful, like the artillery officer he once was.
“I was told you would be expecting my call.”
“I was contacted by the chief executive officer, no less. Marc Laurent himself told me to drop everything and focus all my efforts on a project you will have for me. He also told me to supply you with some muscle and a communications specialist. I hope the technician and the team of Belarusian paramilitaries I sent have been helpful to your situation.”
“Yes, thank you for that. The tech is here with me. The muscle is down in France at the moment, and they are doing as they are told,” said Lloyd.
“Good. This is the first time Marc Laurent himself has called and asked me to pay special attention to an operation. I am intrigued. What kind of mess have you boys over in Legal gotten yourselves into?”
“Yes. Well, this matter needs to be cleared up quickly, for the good of the company.”
“Then let’s not waste another moment. What else can I provide other than the team I have sent?”
Lloyd paused. Then he said, “Well, I hate to shock you with this, but I urgently need a man killed.”
Riegel said nothing.
“Are you there?”
“I am waiting for you to say something shocking.”
“I take it you have done this sort of thing before?”
“Here in Risk Management Operations we like to say that every problem can be dealt with one of two ways. A problem can be tolerated, or a problem can be terminated. If a problem can be tolerated, Mr. Lloyd, my phone does not ring.”
Lloyd asked, “Are you familiar at all with the Lagos Natural Gas contract?”
Riegel answered immediately. “I suspected this would be in reference to the Nigerian fiasco. Rumor has it some fool attorney over there in Legal forgot to proofread a contract, and the Nigerians are backing out of a ten-billion-dollar deal we have already put two hundred million into. I had a feeling I would be contacted on the matter.”
“Yes, well, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Doesn’t sound so complicated. I just need the offending attorney’s address. We’ll make it look like suicide. The stupid bastard should be enough of a good company man to go ahead and kill himself, but you can’t expect that kind of loyalty from a lawyer. No offense, Lloyd from Legal.”
“No! No, Riegel, you’ve got it wrong. We need someone else killed.”
Riegel cleared his throat. “Go on, then.”
Lloyd told the VP of Security Risk Management Ops of the assassination of Isaac Abubaker, the president’s refusal tosign the repaired contract without proof of his brother’s killer’s own death.
Kurt snorted. “We climb into bed with these dictators, and then we act surprised when they grab us by the nuts.” Riegel’s English was flawless, idiomatic American. He sat down behind his desk, grabbed a pen, and pulled a notepad across the leather blotter to him. “So we need to ID the hit man and dispose of him?” asked Riegel.
“He has already been identified.”
