13

JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

“Seriously? They bombed the American Frontier HQ? Was Will in the building?” Sean hadn’t heard from his brother yet, who had promised to call him back after lunch, so he was worried and had phoned Drew.

“Will called right after the blast, since I knew he was going by AF. He says NYPD thinks it was a backpack, left up against the side of the building,” Drew said.

“Like Boston?”

“Yes, like Boston.”

“The same sort of bomb?”

“No one is saying, not yet at least. The blast wasn’t nearly as big, though. I’ve heard a few reports that it was maybe a couple of sticks of dynamite, triggered remotely.”

Sean couldn’t believe it. Like everyone else, he saw the news as it came across multiple television networks in JFK. He too was riveted by the aftermath of the explosion. Just as the Boston Marathon bombings had dominated worldwide news coverage for days afterward, this bombing would likely dominate news coverage for the foreseeable future.

He frowned. It seemed a bit too convenient. He wasn’t one to go in for conspiracy theories, especially given that the Worthington family had been the focus of more than one of those rumors of conspiracies over the years when people raged about the Bilderbergers or the Trilateral Commission. But this particular bombing sure did come at an opportune time for American Frontier, he mused. And right when the company needed the diversion.

Their CEO, Eric Sandstrom, had literally walked out of his meeting with the president’s chief of staff at the White House to a bank of cameras established just outside the press office briefing room and had commented live on the act of domestic terrorism.

Yup, too convenient, Sean told himself again.

As his dad used to say when they were fishing, “If something stinks like a dead fish, it probably is one.”

So instead of a steady stream of highly negative coverage of the Arctic spill, the coverage had swiftly turned to run-of-the-mill but still over-the-top disaster coverage that the American press had become skilled at over the years. CNN had already branded the domestic terrorism act as that of the “Polar Bear Bomber” and had created an associated graphic to go along with their round-the-clock coverage that showed what looked like a white grizzly wearing some sort of military head gear.

“And Will’s okay?” Sean asked again.

“He’s fine,” Drew assured Sean. “He wasn’t anywhere near the building when the blast occurred.”

“Good. That’s a relief.”

Sean would never tell his brother, but he’d always worshiped the ground Will walked on, even though he knew he’d never measure up. But he’d purposefully chosen to go another direction. There was no competing with Will, ever. Sean had stopped trying long ago. Still, he would never want to step into his brother’s place in the family, especially now. He saw all the pressure Will was continually under, all the expectations heaped on him. That was why Sean liked to live on the fringes of his family—to come in and touch base when he was needed but otherwise to handle life and business on his own.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

“And you? Can I assume you’re about to jump into the fight publicly, as only you can?” Drew pressed.

Sean hated being pinned down by anybody. He liked keeping his feelings and his thoughts to himself. But Drew was the one person who knew how to wrestle answers out of Sean and didn’t give up until he got them.

Sean chuckled and tried his typical ploy. “I can’t keep anything from you, can I?” He’d read once that the surest way to avoid answering a question you didn’t want to answer was to offer up a question right back. It worked with most people.

It didn’t work with Drew. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Sean paused. “I didn’t, did I? All right, yeah, I’ve decided to get in further on the game. I’ve arranged for a lease.”

“A lease?”

“Yeah, one of the Russian ice-cutting ships. I’ve leased it for exploration purposes for the month. I’m heading out within the hour to meet up with the crew we just hired.”

“Oil exploration? Like in the Arctic?” Drew’s voice was suspicious.

“Sure, why not?” Sean said breezily. “It’s international waters, after all, even though the entire ocean has been carved out for commercial purposes already. It’s a Russian-flagged ship. Not like anyone can deny us entry to the waters.”

Drew persisted. “So it’s not your Green Justice pals?”

Sean had to give it to their family’s advisor. He didn’t miss a trick. “Well, not exactly, but yes, a couple of the Green Justice folks will be on board.”

“Anyone else?”

“Uh, well, dunno, maybe a few others.” Sean hedged. “A New York Times reporter is joining us.”

He heard Drew’s sharp intake of breath. “Do I have to say it?”

“What, to be careful? Have I ever not been careful?” Sean bristled. “I know what’s at stake, for our family, for my brother—”

“Your sister’s involved too. So be careful what you say around that reporter. There’s an awful lot at stake right now for Worthington Shares. Will is considering joining the shareholder lawsuit against the company.”

“And you’re worried about me, what I might say to some Times reporter?”

“I’m only saying be careful,” Drew said gently. “That’s all.”

“No worries,” Sean tossed back. “I’ll be careful. But I’m trying to evaluate the situation from all sides, and if I’m on-site, I can help Worthington Shares all the way around with firsthand information. Don’t you think I can help bring something to the table that way when needed?”

“Sean the peacemaker.” Drew laughed.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Except when you’re causing trouble.” A small sigh escaped.

“Never. I simply like coloring outside the lines every so often. It’s worked before.”

“Promise you’ll watch what you say and do? And update us?”

“Always, and often,” Sean vowed.

But he didn’t promise how much he would tell and exactly when.