Sam, aka Saint
“The deal’s done.”
“Any surprises?”
There was something about the way Jack Sullivan asked, the tilt of his head, or maybe it was the fact we were sitting in a high-security location that led me to believe he already knew the answer to the question.
“I didn’t meet with Yuri Petrov. The man I met sounded British, but his name is Russian. Nick Ivanov. He said Petrov was indisposed.”
“What did you think of Ivanov?”
The syndicate representative wasn’t what I expected. Intelligent. Well-spoken. My gut read him as trustworthy, even though our intel argued otherwise. “Came across like a respectable business executive. My hunch is the project got dumped in his lap.”
“Did you spend time with him?”
“Dinner. He didn’t share anything relevant, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“For our purposes, everything is relevant.”
“I’ll detail the conversation in my report.”
Jack studied me, and an unwarranted uneasiness struck. Jack Sullivan asked me to handle this for him as a favor on an off-the-record project. But it was a test. Subconsciously, I knew it. And I reacted the same way I reacted to all tests, determined to ace it.
“He liked you.” Jack’s statement came across like an accusation.
“You spoke to Ivanov?”
“He called and asked if he could hire you. You sure there’s nothing you want to share about what happened in London?”
I crossed my arms, not liking what Jack insinuated one bit. “It was a straightforward deal. Handguns and rifles. Upsold him on suppressors and the new mini-explosive device. Told him it works well on doors, gates, and the like. Got you another twenty million on top of the original deal.”
“You’re a natural.”
“I like the product. Did what you said. Played it real. But I don’t understand why you’re selling to these guys. Delivery will occur over international waters. If you choose to deliver. Now you know how they skirt the system.” And that was the point of this op.
Jack rapped his knuckles against the conference room table. I sensed indecision, but if he had any, he resolved it in a split second.
“If we don’t sell to them, someone will. Information is power. The syndicate owns government leaders. Not only in the United States. The entire G8. We need to know who.”
“I didn’t get that kind of intel. But for the delivery of this order, he’ll send coordinates next week with detailed instructions. I’m telling you, I learned nothing of value.”
“He wants to bring you onto his team. He’s looking for an arms dealer to negotiate on behalf of the syndicate. But he doesn’t want to offer you the position if we’ll be offended.”
“Seriously?” Nick and I got along fine over dinner, but not let-me-steal-you-away-from-your-company level fine.
“We’re surprised too.”
“And he asked you?”
“They take family seriously. You went out there posing as my cousin’s kid. To them, that’s family. Our sources say that Yuri Petrov picked up a nasty heroin habit. Explains Ivanov stepping in. Petrov is, coincidentally, his cousin. But from what we’ve gathered, Nikolai Ivanov doesn’t party.”
“Nick,” I corrected, but regretted it when Jack looked at me the way an officer looks at a recruit. “He goes by Nick. And drugs may not be his thing, but women are. After dinner, half a dozen joined us. He offered me first choice. They never said they were prostitutes, but I assumed they were all on the payroll. I declined. Figured he wouldn’t like me after I turned him down, but since the deal was inked, and this is a one-off, it didn’t matter.”
Jack smiled slightly, like I gave him the information he’d been seeking.
“You turning him down showed him you won’t bow down to him. Foremost, he’s a businessman. He’s looking to replace Petrov with someone he can trust. He wants you to return to London and discuss the job. Says he wants an industry expert, someone with negotiation and interpersonal skills. He says you fit the bill. And I think he likes that it strengthens ties to Sullivan Arms. The syndicate values connections.”
“You said these guys have expansive and uninterrupted global reach. Wouldn’t they be privy to Sullivan Arms’s role in taking down a Mexican cartel?”
Jack Sullivan ranked as a Navy legend. A naval academy graduate, he and his brother inherited their father’s company only to learn his uncle cut deals with the cartels. A lot of shit happened some fifteen plus years ago, but if I’d heard the story, so had any criminal organization.
“They view it as family infighting. Something they might do themselves, given my daughter’s abduction. The incident fits within their moral constructs.”
I stared at him, wondering if that was exactly what had happened. In-fighting among family. But he answered the unspoken question.
“No. We didn’t sell my uncle out for revenge. We’ve ended any connection with the drug trade. Yes, we sell weapons to unsavory organizations, but Liam and I stopped aiding all trafficking efforts. The syndicate profits from both legitimate and illegitimate businesses, like any modern-day criminal organization.”
The Sullivan brothers split responsibility of Sullivan Arms after their uncle was removed from the corporation. Jack functions as the CEO, and Liam leads R&D.
Jack is also a partner in a black-ops organization called Arrow Tactical. They take on jobs for various government entities, like the CIA and NSA.
My gut told me I could trust Jack, just like it told me I could trust Nick. But I had difficulty grasping exactly what Jack wanted me to do. “You want me to go back out and meet with Nick again?”
“If your meeting goes well, we expect he’ll offer you a job. It sounds like he’s been itching to bring the role of negotiator into the corporate fold and away from the Russian mafia. He might not offer you a job. But if he does, we’d like for you to consider saying yes.”
As a Navy SEAL, an active member of SEAL Team 8, I took Sullivan’s off-books project and associated trip to London while on a short leave.
“You’d be coming into the CIA fold full-time, working deep undercover. We never thought we’d get a man on the inside of the syndicate. If they offer you a job, this is an enormous opportunity. We know they’ve bought US politicians and business leaders, but we don’t know which ones. Possibly military leaders too. Leaders around the world. If you get a job with them, the intel would be invaluable.”
“These guys are dangerous?”
He nodded his affirmation and confirmed, “Deadly.”
“The kinds of guys who would go after a traitor’s family members?”
“Yes.” He didn’t even blink.
“I have two sisters. I love my country, but I won’t put them at risk.”
“I understand. More than you know.”
Legend said Jack Sullivan was an operative and sniper for the CIA for years. Rumors said he was a part of a group within the CIA that technically didn’t exist. If any of that was true, I imagined the married man and father did understand. He stood at the head of the conference table, placed both hands firmly on the back of a chair, and looked me directly in the eye.
“If you get the job, we can make the world think Sam Watson died. It’s probably an unnecessary step, but if you’re worried, we can do it. Set up a scenario where you’re missing in action. You can return when the op is over. There would be no risk your sisters would be retribution targets.”
“That sounds…” I was at a loss for words. “What about your family?”
“You went in there as an employed distant cousin. There’s plausible deniability. We’ll make it look like you sold us out, too. We can fake prosecution or legal troubles to sell the story if we need to.”
I continued staring at him in disbelief.
“Of course, if you get caught, your death will be painful. I won’t sugarcoat it. If you agree to this, we’ll train you. We’ll provide every resource you need.”
“You’ll train me,” I said, repeating those words, although that shouldn’t have been the piece that stuck. As a SEAL, my life was a series of trainings.
“If Ivanov offers what I think he will, this will be an invaluable opportunity. The value of the intelligence is incalculable.”
“I’ll think about it.” Yes, I walked into that room wanting to impress a legend and ace an imagined test, but I wasn’t about to change careers without giving it some serious thought. And what about my sisters? How would that even work?
“The meeting with Ivanov isn’t for another three months. He wants to meet after the delivery of the order. There’s time for you to think about it and time for us to prepare. But the op starts the second you say yes. If I were Ivanov, I’d have people watching you, double-checking you are who you say you are. Which means if you visit your sisters, you’ll need to take precautions. You should stay here in Houston, living life as Leo Sullivan, and let us handle getting you places as Sam. We’ll get a body double to stay in Houston when you need to leave.”
“I have a job. I’m due back—” I flicked my wrist, checking the date.
“You’re on indefinite leave, cleared by your commanding officer. While you think about it, in addition to your Navy salary, a private entity will triple match your base while you consider the opportunity. You decide against it, you go right back to your team.”
“My CO signed off on this?”
“The Admiral did. No one else can know.”
“If I do this, if I go to this meeting and accept the syndicate’s job offer, how long will I stay in the role? How long does an op like that last?”
“Six months, a year tops. You say the word, we arrange an extraction. You’ll be back home, free to resume your position in the Navy or to pursue any number of opportunities that arise.”
“If I do this, it won’t be for my career.” Money didn’t motivate me. “If I do this, it will be for my country.”