18
It was typical of his brother, Will thought. Arrive late and try to spend as little time as possible at a family dinner. Will loved his brother, but sometimes he didn’t get Sean at all.
Sean arrived right after they’d put the food into the oven. He apologized for not being there earlier to help out but said it hadn’t been easy to change his plans at the last minute. He didn’t offer any other explanation. By now, Will and Sarah were used to it, so they merely nodded and didn’t ask for details. But Drew lifted a quizzical brow.
Sean simply shook his head and headed to the living room with the others.
“So, Drew, this was your idea,” Will said when they’d settled in. “What’s the urgency? Why are we here?” He didn’t miss the knowing smirk exchanged between Sean and Sarah as he moved comfortably into his role of being in charge. By now he was used to it. But someone had to get the discussion going.
“I have a pretty good idea what each of you is doing related to the American Frontier situation,” Drew began, “and I think we can all agree it’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. Beyond my usual advice that I’d provide to Worthington Shares about what its stake in AF means, there is also what all of this means to each of you individually. I think you know I have your best interests at heart—”
Sean jumped in. “Drew, you can rest easy. We all know where your heart is. So just tell us. What’s weighing on your mind?”
“Yes, Drew, spill it,” Sarah chimed in. “We’ve seen numerous crises roll through the door. Why is this one any different? Because it’s AF? Because it affects Worthington Shares? Because it’s the kind of crisis that can cause untold financial, political, and environmental damage?”
Drew looked toward his wife. Jean nodded almost imperceptibly.
He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I believe this very situation will define each of you in your own way and shape your destinies. This isn’t simply another corporate event, or environmental disaster, or something that can impact Worthington Shares’ bottom line. It doesn’t matter whether we sell off the shares in AF or hold them and fight for control of the company. It doesn’t matter how this all plays out in Washington and whether it helps define or shape the Republican Party that has done the bidding of industrial giants like AF for a long time. It doesn’t matter how all of this might play out in some courtroom as the shareholders sue the leadership for decisions they and the board made to allow the company to drill in the Arctic, putting AF at grave risk. No, that isn’t what I believe matters. Those are merely things we all work on daily in our professional lives.
“But this time, it’s clear to me that what happens next will change each of your life paths. It will define each of you personally. That’s what I wanted to make sure we all understood before each of us goes about our business. You all know me well enough to realize I have both the family’s and the company’s best interests at heart. So when I say that the fate of American Frontier—and Worthington Shares’ involvement with it—is just business in the end and not something we should really worry about all that much, you know what I mean by that. I will fight with every ounce of my being to protect the Worthington business. But what I most care about is how this will affect you—each of you.”
Again Drew peeked at his wife. Jean gave another encouraging nod.
He gazed directly at Will. “Until the events today, I would have predicted that there was a clear path forward for you. You were almost certainly going to be asked to take over American Frontier, either as its CEO or possibly as its board chairman. In another time, for other reasons, I’d have supported that. But right now I’m not so sure that’s a good idea for you. Events will almost certainly play out in such a manner that anyone associated with the decisions AF made to build platforms in the Arctic will, at a minimum, be on the wrong side of history. No one will look kindly on the people responsible for those decisions, which would be hugely unfortunate for you, considering that you opposed the decisions at the board level to drill in the Arctic.”
Will opened his mouth, but Drew put up a hand. “Please wait. I need to say this.”
He swiveled toward Sean. “Things are a bit murkier for you. But the risks to you may be even greater than they are for your brother. You may not be on the AF board or under consideration as the company’s leader. But knowing you as I do, I can only imagine you are going to join this fight in the way that suits you best—as someone who sees all the angles, plays them all, and brings in a vast network of people and resources to highlight what’s happening in the Arctic.
“I’m quite certain that the Center for Ecological Biodiversity will sue AF as they’ve sued every other oil company over spills. And because you’re well known as a fierce environmentalist, and you’re about to head to the Arctic on a Green Justice ship that the entire world will ultimately know you paid for, the fight there will become your fight. Not Worthington Shares’ fight, but your own personal fight. Should you lose that fight in the eyes of the public, there will be consequences to you, Sean. Never mind the consequences to the company.
“Make no mistake: AF will use everything at their disposal—every public relations ploy, every investor relations gimmick, every political favor owed or assumed, and every legal or regulatory maneuver they can possibly engage—to win this fight in the public, the boardroom, and the halls of power in Washington. If you, Sean, are perceived as a lone warrior on the front lines, tangling with the world’s largest company in the midst of all that, there is a grave risk of being vastly misunderstood and mischaracterized by the press. There is no peace to be found here, only unavoidable conflict. Any attempts on your part to obtain some sort of a peace will be seen as naïve at best and misguided and personally damaging at worst.”
Drew focused on Sarah next. “But the gravest risk, in my opinion, may rest with you, Sarah. If what we’ve heard is true—that questions about criminal negligence are about to surface and that you and your office will be prosecuting what could become the largest such case in years—you’ll have to make an exceedingly difficult decision. Do you take on that case, one that could involve discussions and decisions made at the American Frontier board level by your brother? Do you take part in some sort of a challenge that drags in your own family? How do you separate yourself, the prosecutor, from the little sister and member of the Worthington family? The press will eat you alive if they suspect you might play or grant any favors to either your older brother or your family.”
Drew straightened his shoulders. “I wanted to make absolutely certain each of you understands what’s at stake. Please take this fight seriously. Ignore what it means for the family business. That will all play itself out, one way or another. AF’s stock price and Worthington Shares’ holdings will go up or down. But none of that matters nearly as much as how all of this may play out for each of you personally. Given that, I want to make some recommendations. I fully expect that you’ll ignore them.” A smile flickered across the older man’s face. “But I still want to make them—if only so you have them in front of you as you deal with this.
“First, I’d encourage you, Will, to stop trying to become the CEO of American Frontier. Give it up. I know it seems like the pinnacle of your career, something that makes perfect sense to you and that you’ve worked toward for much of your adult life. Yes, there is great prestige and honor in leading the largest company in the world. But there may be a bigger prize at hand someday, one that no Worthington has ever aspired to, and you would be placing all of that in jeopardy if you take AF’s considerable troubles on board in your own professional life. You’ll need to make a decision about that, whether you’re ready to or not.
“Second, Sean, I’d ask you to stand down from your effort to sail to the Arctic. I don’t say this lightly, knowing your passion for that fight. But there’s almost no way you can win this thing in the public’s mind. So let others take on that fight. Give them the ship if you must, but don’t take the fight on board yourself. There is no peace to be had here.
“And finally, Sarah, recuse yourself. I know you’ve always wanted to prove yourself, and you see this as a worthy fight where you can do that. But it’s the wrong fight. And it can cost you dearly. For that reason, I’d urge you in the strongest possible terms to get out of it now, before it’s too late to do so.”
Drew sat back in his chair, and Will had to close his gaping mouth. It was by far the longest single speech he’d ever heard Drew give in his life. And it had been given only to an audience of four.
Sarah was the first to react. “I didn’t think you had that in you, Drew. So how do you really feel?”
They all laughed. It broke the ice.
“Yeah, Drew,” Sean chimed in, “I can’t believe you delivered all that in one fell swoop. What’s the deal? You been saving that up all these years?”
“It’s how I feel,” Drew stated matter-of-factly, “and someone needed to say it. Might as well be me.”
“Well, thank you,” Sean said. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I’ll certainly consider what you’ve said.” He looked over at his brother and sister. “And I’ll bet that Will and Sarah will take everything you’ve told us seriously as well.”
Only Will hadn’t yet spoken. At last, when Sarah gave him the eagle eye, he said, “I’ve heard what you said, and I do indeed take it seriously. But what we each decide is something else entirely. I may not have a choice, whether I like it or not. I get the feeling that Sandstrom is going to fight for his job, which puts me in a vastly different place.”
“And I don’t have a choice either,” Sarah reported. “The head of Justice’s Criminal Division told me today that his job is on the line on this, and he wants me involved. I’d have to come up with an awfully good reason to walk away from the fight altogether. But I will consider the risks you’ve explained. I really will.”
“And I will too,” Sean added. “The last thing in the world I want is to be perceived as some Don Quixote type tilting at windmills—although I feel that way sometimes.” He laughed. “That isn’t my style or my wish. If I don’t think I can make a genuine difference in the fight, I’ll walk away. I promise.”
Drew seemed to relax now that his thoughts were out in the open. “That’s all I’m asking. Go into this with your eyes wide open. The business and financial side will take care of itself. What I care about is how this affects each of you.”
Will stared at his brother and sister. “Trust me, Drew,” he said slowly, “we’re all wide awake right now. We get it.”
He’d been at the bar for nearly 30 minutes and had managed to avoid anything other than a casual conversation with the guy on the stool next to him when he got a second text, directing him to another address. The money would be delivered to him once he’d dumped the suit, the text said. He still wanted the money, but he wanted to get rid of the suit as fast as he could.
He carried the brown plastic bag with him over his shoulder and walked the entire 30 blocks to the address displayed on the text message. When he got there, he heaved the bag into the dumpster out behind the dilapidated office building, looked around to make sure no one had followed him there, and then ambled away.
He hung around a bit, hoping that yet a third text would arrive, telling him where he could go to pick up his pay for his gig. When it didn’t arrive, he left and walked aimlessly back in the direction from which he’d come. He wasn’t sure where he’d wind up for the night. But at least he didn’t have the suit with him any longer.
It never occurred to him to take even a peek at the names of any of the nonprofit environmental, social justice, and civil liberties organizations that all shared the office complex by the dumpster. It wasn’t like he’d know even one of the names anyway.