‘They were out of line,’ said Aaron of the investigators. ‘They know Ahmed Masri — they just wanted to see how you knew him.’
‘Why don’t they haul Chase Lang in here?’ said Gallen with a smile.
Aaron smiled back. The CIA and the Pentagon used people like Chase Lang for off-the-books weapons and deniable crews. Washington investigating Chase Lang and Harbour Light was as likely as a real inquiry into Halliburton’s military base pricing or the actions of Big Oil in west Africa. It wasn’t going to happen.
‘So, I’m out of here?’ said Gallen, trying to stand but wincing at the pain in his leg.
‘Sure,’ said Aaron. ‘Anything I can do for you?’
Gallen thought about it. ‘You can tell me.’
‘Tell you what?’
‘What was Oasis Energy about? I mean, really?’
Aaron laughed and put his hands on his hips. ‘In simple terms?’
‘Sure.’
‘Okay. An aggressive Canadian oil explorer with one truck and three employees makes a find in Alberta when he’s nineteen years old. He sells the lease to Chevron and soon realises that if he’d kept the lease and drilled it himself, he’d have made twenty or thirty times what he made by selling the lease.’
‘Harry?’
‘That’s him,’ said Aaron. ‘So this young Harry’s in a hurry. He attracts a secret source of capital and with his next find, builds his own drilling and pumping infrastructure and gets real big, real fast. After decades of doing this, the Berlin Wall comes down and suddenly the race is on for Arctic oil — the race to control the sea floor of what could be the source of our hydrocarbons well into the twenty-second century.’
‘So where does Ivan Bashoff come into this?’
‘Bashoff is a gangster who has bought into Russian oil and gas but he knows that the Russian government won’t ever let him get too big. So he helps Reggie Kransk set up the Transarctic Tribal Council, basically incorporates it and waits for a big North American fish to bite — a big, greedy fish that thinks it can control Arctic oil by controlling indigenous territorial interests.’
‘They made Florita their agent?’
‘They made her an offer,’ said Aaron. ‘You heard her interviews— we’ll help you become the CEO of Oasis, and if you do, you can have three per cent of the stock.’
‘They honoured that?’
‘Sure did,’ said Aaron. ‘It was sitting in escrow before Harry was killed. Florita’s a lawyer, remember.’
‘Why blow up Florita, if she’s your agent?’
‘The Bashoff clan didn’t, and neither did Reggie’s council,’ said Aaron. ‘We think it was the Israeli crew. They don’t want that oil field opened up, especially not with US interests in it.’
‘Which is the part I don’t follow,’ said Gallen.
‘Harry Durville’s secret financiers, way back in his early twenties? Probably our friends in Langley, arranged through all sorts of nominee funds, controlled by lawyers and accountants all over the world. The Bashoffs thought their merger with Oasis gave them control, but the Israelis knew better. They knew that merger put Washington right in the middle of Arctic oil.’
Gallen nodded. ‘And if we’re up there, why would we bother with the Middle East?’
‘If you see it from Tel Aviv’s perspective, it makes sense.’
Behind the glass, Florita stood up and left the room.
Aaron offered Gallen a handshake. ‘One final thing, Gerry.’
‘Yep?’
‘Would you mind dropping in to the cafeteria on your way out, buy a Sprite or something?’
‘I got nothing to say to her.’
‘So, let her do the talking.’
Gallen smiled, shook the hand. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Florita was sitting on her own at a Formica-top table, chewing on a sandwich and reading the Washington Post, when Gallen started feeding coins into the drink machine. She waved him over and he collected the can, took a seat.
‘Hi, Gerry,’ she said. Gallen noticed a few extra lines around the dark eyes, and a paler face than he remembered. She was still good-looking, but tired.
‘What they got you for?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ she said. ‘What about you?’
‘Interviews about the Ariadne, the nuclear power plant, the Israelis, Harry Durville, Reggie,’ said Gallen, ripping the tab on his Sprite. ‘Basically nothing.’
Florita laughed, her teeth flashing briefly. ‘Actually, me too.’
‘They told me you were working for the Bashoffs, the Russian crime family. That ain’t true, is it?’
She looked at him, begging for understanding. ‘I did nothing wrong, Gerry. They wanted me in the CEO’s chair because they liked my ideas and I wanted to push the nuclear power angle — it’s the way of the future. In ten years they’ll be amazed that someone could have been arrested for it, called a terrorist.’
‘I see…’
‘And I had no idea Harry would be killed. Harry was going to hand over to me anyway. And besides, I was on the same plane that got bombed. Remember?’
‘I remember.’ Gallen didn’t have the heart for intrigue. The fact that Aaron and his friends were listening made him feel creepy and he decided to end it. ‘Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Florita,’ he said, standing with pain. ‘I hope it works out for you.’
Florita looked down at her hands. ‘You’re not going to tell me off?’
‘For what?’
‘Doing it for the money.’
Gallen grinned. ‘I did it for the money too, Florita.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I wanted to stop the bank foreclosing on my family’s farm. So I took the gig.’
A tear ran down her cheek. ‘You did all this to make up a few mortgage payments?’
‘That’s about it.’
She sniffled as she shook her head. ‘That’s so… so…’
‘We all have our reasons,’ he said, not hating her. ‘We all need a creed.’
‘I did it for the money, Gerry. I’m talking about four hundred million dollars.’
‘Must be nice.’
‘You’re walking around with a bullet hole in your leg; your guys risked their lives to save me in that snow. You’re not angry about that?’
‘No, Florita,’ said Gallen, turning away. ‘It’s what we do.’
CHAPTER 71
Colorado’s spring sunshine poured out of clear skies. Gallen sipped on a cup of beer as he watched a man on a black stallion stumble through a jumping round, already with too many penalties. The program for the Douglas County No More Snow event listed the next rider as Yvonne McKenzie, on Peaches.
‘She’s up,’ said Gallen to Yvonne’s daughter, Lyndall. ‘Next rider.’
‘She’s going to be so good, I just know it,’ said the child.
Sitting on the other side of Lyndall, Kenny Winter leaned forward on his seat. ‘I’m liking our mare, boss,’ said the Canadian, jiggling his legs as the struggling rider made more mistakes. ‘There’s nothing out there Peaches can’t do with her eyes closed.’
Roy arrived with a tray of beers and a lemonade for Lyndall. The announcer gave the score to the previous rider as the rails were replaced, and then he announced Yvonne McKenzie.
When Peaches stalked into the arena, all plaited and dandied up, Winter stood and made a long shepherd’s whistle, making some of the champagne picnickers turn and stare. Gallen stayed seated, feeling something he hadn’t experienced in a number of years. His chest relaxed, the anger evaporated and he smiled.
He was feeling pride.
Yvonne sipped on her third beer, her second-place cup sitting on the picnic table in front of her, her hair loose now that she’d taken the pins out. The giant beer tent was filled with horse lovers and the barbecues were churning out steak and potatoes.