Jackson shook his head and mumbled to himself, “The rich sure do things differently.”
“I hope you like Caesar salad,” said Houston. “It’s one my favorite dishes.”
Owen wasn’t very hungry. He took a couple of bites of his meal and looked over at Mitchell. Clearing his throat, he said, “I suspect that my uncle has already conveyed his deepest sympathies for the loss of your colleague on Bouvet Island. I would like to add my condolences as well.”
“Thank you,” replied Mitchell.
“My uncle has over thirteen thousand employees. Accidents, unfortunately, do occur from time to time, sometimes with tragic results. However, this is the first time I can remember that someone working on our behalf was murdered,” said Owen, his voice full of emotion.
“Trust me, I intend to get to the bottom of this and make whoever is responsible for Maria’s death pay,” replied Mitchell.
Owen handed Mitchell a business card. “If I can be of any assistance, please do not hesitate to call on me.”
“Thanks,” said Mitchell. “I may take you up on that offer.”
After lunch, Houston led his guests to his private office at the back of his home. Filled with computers and television screens, it was the one place that reflected the true nature of the home’s owner. He asked Mitchell and Jackson if they wanted another drink.
Both men politely declined.
Houston took a seat behind his desk, while Mitchell, Jackson, and Owen sat down facing the desk.
Houston began, “Gents, as much as the loss of the probe pains me, it has forced my nephew and me to re-evaluate some of my company’s security protocols. This never would have happened if I had people with the same skill sets, like you gentlemen, working for me. I could have sent them and Miss Vega would still be alive today.”
“Sir, it’s not your fault. One of our own is to blame for what happened,” said Mitchell, having a sense of déjà vu with the conversation.
“Still, I somehow feel responsible and that’s part of the reason I asked you two to come down here today. You see gents, Owen and I have talked about this, and we would like to offer you both a job with my company. Whatever you’re being paid now, I’ll double it.”
Mitchell grinned. “Sir, I’m sure that I speak for both Nate and me when I say that your offer is most generous; however, we both like where we work right now and don’t see a need for a change of employment.”
“I’ll triple your salary,” said Houston forcefully.
Mitchell looked over at Nate.
“Sorry, sir, but I couldn’t move my boy right now,” added Jackson. “He’s had some trouble in the past and needs stability in his life. A move would be too disruptive, and I’m not going to leave him and his mother behind to come and work down here. Like Ryan, I truly do appreciate the offer, and believe me, it’s mighty tempting, but I must also respectfully decline.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Houston, “two men who can’t be bought. You’re killing me.”
Mitchell shrugged as if to say sorry.
“Well, that’s too bad. I had hoped that you’d accept my uncle’s offer,” remarked Owen.
“Sorry to disappoint you both,” said Mitchell.
Houston stood. “Well, that didn’t go as I’d hoped. I guess you’re both in a hurry to get back home. I can have my driver take you back to the airport, and you’ll be home in no time.”
“Actually, sir, we’re not heading home, at least not right away,” said Mitchell. “Nate and I are heading to Baton Rouge to attend Miss Vega’s funeral tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll instruct my pilot to fly you there. He’ll remain on standby to fly you home after the service.”
“Sir, that would be greatly appreciated,” replied Mitchell.
“It’s the least I can do for you two.”
Houston asked Sofia to see Mitchell and Jackson to the waiting limo. He energetically shook their hands one last time and waited until they had left his office before taking his seat behind his desk.
“Well, it was a nice try,” said Owen to his uncle. “Perhaps in a few years, they’ll think differently.”
“Owen, time is not on our side,” replied Houston philosophically. “We need men who can think and act decisively working for us now, not in a few years’ time. By then it could be too late. Our competitors have shown that they will stop at nothing to get what they want.”
“Yes, I always knew that espionage was a threat, but not murder. It chills me to think just how far our rivals will go to supplant us.”
“It doesn’t get much worse that murder.”
Owen checked the time. “Uncle David, I hate to run off, but I have a flight to catch.”
“Where are you heading now?”
“Washington, D.C. I’ve got a meeting with several congressmen who are friendly to our proposals for greater civilian access to the International Space Station. I’m hoping to convince them to lobby the Kempt administration on our behalf.”
Houston smiled. His nephew knew how to play the game well. Half of everything in business was about whom you knew and what they could do for you.
Owen stood, looked over at his uncle, and then hesitated as if trying to find the right words.
“Is something wrong, Owen?” asked Houston, seeing the look on his nephew’s face.
“Sir, I was approached by the Chief Financial Officer. He was concerned about a couple of irregularities that he had recently identified,” said Owen.
“What irregularities?”
“Well, it would appear that certain discretionary funds managed by yourself have recently become secret. Uncle, I know that it’s your money, and you can do as you please; however, as your CEO, I would like to know what is going on.”
Houston smiled. “Owen, there’s nothing to be concerned about. I’m just toying around with a few pet projects that have been on hold for a number of years. Trust me, when it all comes to fruition you’ll be among the first to know.”
Owen smiled. “I look forward to that.” He shook his uncle’s hand, left the room, and headed straight for his waiting limousine.
After pouring himself a tall glass of bourbon, Houston picked up a remote from his desk and switched on a wall-mounted screen.
“I take it that you saw and heard everything,” said Houston, as he looked up at McMasters’ image on the screen.
“I told you they wouldn’t go for it,” replied McMasters. “They’re a pair of boy scouts. They can’t see that the world has changed around them. Trust me; you’re better off without them.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Houston. “They’re survivors and we’re going to need men like that when all is said and done.”
“What do you want me to do about them?”
Houston became quiet, lost in thought.
“Sir?”
“Wait until they’re in Baton Rouge and then kill them,” said Houston. “Make it look like a robbery gone bad, or something like that. And for God’s sake, make sure that nothing ties you or me to their deaths.”
“Not a problem. I know a few guys who could easily pull this off.”
“Don’t bother me with the details, just make it happen.”
“Sir, you also need to think about cleaning up all of your loose ends.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Houston.
“If you want nothing to come back on you, you need to get rid of anyone you may have had business dealings with, especially those people in Russia who provided you with information on the probe.”
Houston sat back in his chair. “Go on.”
“Sir, not everyone you paid off is loyal to the cause. The man who sold the flight logs to one of your Russian associates is most definitely a threat to you if someone were to talk to him.”
Houston took a deep breath through his nostrils, slowly exhaled. “All right, have him and anyone else you deem a threat to me killed as well.”