52

FLORES, AZORES ISLANDS

As soon as Sean stepped off the fishing boat in Flores, he sprinted to the nearby hotel where he’d retained rooms for himself and his pilot while he was on Corvo.

He was right. The pilot was sunning himself and enjoying being waited on by the local women. A dark-haired beauty was holding a fruity drink out to him as Sean approached.

Sean waved her off with a finger. “Hey.” He nudged the pilot. “Gotta go.”

The pilot sat up, looking disoriented for a minute. Then he was all business. “Okay, sir. Where to?”

Sean liked that. The pilot didn’t argue or ask why he was almost a week earlier than they’d planned. He simply asked for next instructions.

“To Ponta Delgada as soon as you get the plane ready and fueled. Then when we’re in the air, I’ll let you know where to next.”

The pilot nodded once. “On it.” A split second later he’d grabbed his towel and was off the chaise lounge, striding toward the hotel building.

The pilot was a man of few words, didn’t pry or need to know reasons, and moved quickly. He also didn’t seem to be the gossipy type, and he’d been paid well not to reveal anything about his passenger.

Sean had learned a thing or two about secrecy as a Worthington. Whenever he didn’t want to be splashed across the press, he used his middle name and no last name in any arrangements. He’d done that this time to hire the pilot and had paid for everything in cash. When that many Ben Franklins were handed over, the pilot seemed more than happy not to press for any other details.

Sean headed back to his room. While he waited for his cell to charge, he sat with his head in his hands. He knew the call he needed to make next—to Jon. He had to apologize for his actions and come clean about his jealousy. In the meanwhile, he took a shower to clear his head. The last time he’d had one was when the rain washed him on the mountaintop in Corvo.

NEW YORK CITY

Drew shut the door, then took a seat across from Will in his office. “You know what it means as well as I do.”

Will nodded. “Sure. When Sandstrom is arrested—and that’s a foregone conclusion from what Sarah has been able to tell me—they’ll be looking for a new or at least an interim CEO.”

There were rumors of the board being nervous and restless. Sandstrom continued to claim to the inside circle that any proof the DOJ had was circumstantial only—that the internal memos revealed his purpose to make oil economical to the American people. That was what would hold up in court, Sandstrom was confident. But several board members had been heard muttering that they should have listened more closely to Will, instead of being swayed by the silver-tongued Sandstrom.

“Nobody knows more about AF than you.” Drew studied Will.

“Except Frank Stapleton. His business experience is broader than mine. After all, he’s the guy who took me under his wing.”

Drew lifted a brow. “Yes, but sometimes the student can learn to outperform the teacher.”

Will laughed. “Your proverb for the day?”

Drew’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe. But Stapleton isn’t in the direct loop of all your research before AF drilled in the Arctic. He doesn’t have the combination of scientific knowledge and business acumen that will be required to guide AF through the Arctic crisis.” He paused. “Neither has he been following every move of AF’s and Sandstrom’s like you have, even since you left the board.”

“Okay.” Will shrugged. “You got me. You know I can’t let it go.”

Drew tilted his head. “Maybe that’s because you aren’t supposed to let it go.”

“But we sold the Worthington shares,” Will argued for the sake of arguing, even though the tactic rarely worked with Drew.

Drew lifted his hands. “So? Shares are bought and sold every day. You said so yourself. There are lots of places to invest in New York. That means nothing. But it does pave the way for you to be clearheaded about the decision, should you be asked.”

“And you know this because . . .”

“The way I know everything. Now is the time to start thinking about how you might want to respond.”

“Already have. You know I can’t say no to that challenge. I’ve been groomed for it. I thought I wanted it, that it was mine to take on. Got sidetracked for a while. Never thought I’d need to take it on when it was in the worst crisis of its history, though.”

Drew got up from his chair, smiling. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say.” He strode to the door, then swiveled right before he grasped the handle. “Interesting about companies in crisis. That’s when the greatest change for the good can occur.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Will knew what he was implying. They’d talked about it before. There was no one better prepared or more able to tackle AF’s needed move toward clean energy than Will Worthington. He already had a road map. Had planned the sign markers along the way for several years. The fossil fuel era was ending. The clean energy revolution was dawning. Great business leaders recognized these tectonic changes in the marketplace. Will did in a way that Eric Sandstrom never would. Now was the time to create a new blueprint for American Frontier that would be good for the bottom line—and even better for the planet.

As Drew exited the office, Will stared out the large glass window with the impressive overview of Madison Avenue. Yes, he could and would make that blueprint happen. Now all he needed was the opportunity, which he had no doubt would come his way.

EN ROUTE FROM PONTA DELGADA TO FLORES

The contact’s phone rang again. “Okay, got it.” As soon as he ended the call, he announced, “Corvo.”

The man’s eyes widened. So Sean was alive. The other two options fell by the wayside. He twirled his finger in a single circle.

The contact hurried toward the cockpit.

Within a few minutes, the plane had changed course toward the small island of Corvo.