Garrett studied the video footage on the computer monitor in the Washita Game Ranch headquarters office, wondering if he and Kai were wasting their time. Other than the impressive trophy bucks, a whole lot of mesquite on the high ground, and a thick grove of oak trees down in the river bottom, the game and security cameras had captured nothing of value for their cause.
Sheriff Crowley’s trace on Simon Cloutier had yielded no results, which was odd. Of course, there was no law against giving a phony name to his cohorts, but at this point there was no innocent reason as to why. If they could get some biometrics like fingerprints, a facial scan, or voice recording then they could run it through the databases with his friends at the CIA.
Garrett was about to go back through the video footage again when his brother called. “What you got for me, Bridger?”
“Couldn’t find anything on Cloutier, but I got an earful on Ressource Absolue from my buddy in Houston. Couldn’t get into specifics. Attorney-client privilege and all. But he told me that it’s pretty well known that Absolue talks a good game on environmental issues but they’re ruthless as hell. Operate like any of the other majors when it comes down to business.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Garrett replied. “What else is new?”
“What’s new is that Absolue is a direct competitor with Texas on LNG. In bed with the Qatari government to fill the order for the contract. Which they can. They’re working behind the scenes to lobby the European Union to go with their suppliers over ours.”
Again, that wasn’t surprising. A deal of this magnitude would bring out everyone’s cutthroat side. But the French were America’s allies. Were it Russia, China, or Iran, Garrett wouldn’t put it past them to engage in some kind of subterfuge. That said, unlike most Western intelligence services, France was fairly open about using its resources to engage in corporate espionage.
Is Simon Cloutier their spy?
Garrett continued. “Your friend think Absolue would get involved in something over here?”
“According to him,” Bridger answered, “they wouldn’t touch this kind of thing with a ten-foot pole. Too much backlash if something went wrong. But he told me about a consulting group based out of Lyon, France, called Solutions Globales. He said they’re associated with Absolue and just might take things to the next level if the stakes were high enough.”
“Global Solutions,” Garrett repeated in English to himself. “Could they be any more vague?”
“Apparently, that’s the way they like it. They’re registered on Dun & Bradstreet, but that’s about all I could find. No website. No articles on the company or interviews with executives. Just confirmation from my friend that they come highly recommended.”
“Recommended for doing what?” Garrett asked.
“When I asked my friend, he got kind of uncomfortable. Said he didn’t know exactly what they do. But they had access to high-level players. Focused on regulatory issues, corporate strategy, influence campaigns, and risk mitigation.”
“You think your old law school friend might be covering for them?” Garrett asked.
“Nah, I don’t think so. You know the old expression, ‘If you have to ask how much something costs, you probably can’t afford it.’ I got the same impression with Solutions Globales. If you have to ask who they are, then you’re not part of the club. My friend runs with a prominent crowd, but there’s a whole other level of exclusive out there. And it has a lot to do with having the word billionaire by your name.”
Over the years, Garrett had found that there were two sets of rules. It wasn’t just the haves and have-nots anymore. Those at the very tip top of the food chain were playing an entirely different game on a whole separate field. For some reason, Jeffrey Epstein and his private island came to mind. That was an extreme example of corruption off the rails, but shadow systems and alternate rules for the world’s most rich and powerful did exist.
Companies like Solutions Globales catered to individuals who operated in that realm. It was a world that Garrett didn’t know. While there was nothing that particularly helped him right that moment, he couldn’t help but think he was on the right track.
Garrett turned to Kai, who was still going through the video feed. “See anything yet?”
Kai looked up from the monitor and grinned. “You’re not going to believe this, but I think we’ve got Cloutier. Looks like his Jeep, anyhow.”
“How long ago?” Garrett pressed.
“He’s here right now. West side of the ranch.” Kai focused on the monitor. “This is the live feed from a perimeter security camera.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Just got out with a set of bolt cutters and walked up to the fence. Looks like he’s about to cut the chain.”
Garrett held the phone closer to Kai. “Bridger, did you hear that?”
“Yeah, I heard. That’s the closest entrance to the Washita Compressor Station. Bet that’s right where he’s headed.”
“Okay, we’re going to stop this guy before he gets there. In the meantime, keep working on the link between Absolue, Solutions Globales, and the LNG deal with the EU. We’ve got nothing more than a conspiracy theory at this point. But we’re connecting the dots.”
Bridger asked, “Let’s say we connect them, then what?”
Garrett spoke on the move. “The good news is once I have something to go on, I can take this up to Conner Murray at the NSC. Can’t mount much of a fight here at our end, but there’s an American mission in Brussels. If we have evidence that a French competitor company is involved in corporate espionage and a potential sabotage operation, then the EU needs to know.”
As Garrett drove toward the compressor station where they’d seen Simon Cloutier heading, he scanned the darkness on the periphery of his headlights but found no signs of life beyond the biggest mule deer buck he’d ever seen and a couple of fast-moving doe. If the Frenchman was still out there, then he had either gone the opposite way or was hiding down in the river bottom.
Garrett pulled up Conner Murray’s contact info and pressed his number to make the call. Expecting to leave a message, he was shocked when the guy actually answered his office phone.
“Conner, this is Garrett Kohl. Sorry for calling so early, but it’s important. Can we talk?”
Murray sounded groggy, like he’d pulled an all-nighter. “Yeah, what’s going on?”
“Don’t really have a long time to explain but wanted to give you a heads-up on a few things.”
There was a pause on Murray’s end before he asked, “You get a call from Mario?”
Garrett could detect a hint of worry in his voice. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“No, no. Sorry. Had something else on my mind. What’s going on, Garrett?”
Garrett could tell there was a subject he needed to revisit, but given the urgency of the sabotage issue, he kept focused on the topic at hand. “Not really sure. We’ve got a pipeline deal going on down here in my part of the world and we’ve had a couple of explosions.”
“Saw that in a situation report here.” Murray had a tinge of sorrow in his voice. “Sorry to hear about the accident. Your family safe?”
“Yeah, we’re all okay, thank God. But I’m not so sure it was an accident.”
“The report said that—”
“Yeah, I know what the report probably said, but we think there might be something else going on. In fact, I’m chasing down someone right now who might be involved.”
Murray’s voice went from worried to eager. “What can I do to help?”
Garrett looked over at Kai, who was pointing to the right in a fork in the road. “Maybe a lot later on. But for now, I just need help filling in some gaps.” He made the turn and stepped on the gas on a straightaway in search of Cloutier’s Jeep. “You ever hear of the French security consulting company Solutions Globales? It might be connected to what’s going on down here.”
“Know of it, but don’t know anyone over there personally. They’ve done some security work for people I’ve worked with in Europe. Founded by former members of DGSE.”
Garrett had never worked with the Directorate General for External Security, the French equivalent to the CIA or British MI6. He’d heard they were a competent service but found it unusual that in addition to intel gathering, counterterrorism, and counterintelligence, DGSE had a more robust focus on economic spying than any of their Western counterparts.
He scanned ahead for Cloutier but saw nothing. “What do you know about them?”
“Very buttoned-down. Tight-lipped as it gets. Only take clients on referral. Highly connected with political leaders in the Middle East, Asia, and Africa. And my understanding is that they’ve got a lot of media influence. You want a story planted, they’re your solution. If you want a story squashed, they can do that too. It’s a one-stop shop for making problems go away.”
Garrett thought about the concept. “What about creating problems? Any history of that?”
“Not that I know of offhand. But it doesn’t mean they don’t. Covert action capabilities wouldn’t be out of the question. Psychological operations. Influence ops. Why not?”
“What about a paramilitary component?” Garrett asked.
“Well, their personal security detail is made up of former DGSE Action Division. Basically, it’s France’s version of CIA Ground Branch. Former special operators from the armed forces and a few Foreign Legion guys mixed into the bunch. Why do you ask?”
Garrett pressed down on the accelerator on another straight stretch of road. The intel from Murray had his pulse racing. “Think they’d actually carry out a sabotage operation on U.S. soil?”
“Not sure. But the guys working for Global Solutions are some of the best in the business. From an operational perspective, they’re certainly capable.”
“Don’t doubt they’ve got the skills,” Garrett agreed. “But the stomach for potential blowback is another thing. Somebody would have to be worried to death about getting caught.”
The sound of clacking on a keyboard preceded Murray’s response. “Just did a quick search on the company and pulled up a report. According to a Defense Intelligence Agency source, Global Solutions was rumored to have aided in the Nord Stream pipeline explosion.”
At the news, Garrett’s pulse raced even faster. This lead looked promising. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. They’ve got a history of this kind of thing.”
“Don’t jump to any conclusions,” Murray warned. “That’s only one account. There was more speculation and hearsay over that Nord Stream incident than any I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t give it much credence,” Garrett pressed.
“Didn’t say that either. Just nothing was proven. But Global Solutions has the expertise and potentially the motive.” There was a moment of low mumbling while Murray scanned the report. “Says here that their client, Ressource Absolue, made a fortune after the pipeline was destroyed.”
Now with a suspect behind the bombings within reach, Garrett felt like they were getting somewhere. “Too many factors adding up. Has to be a connection to what’s happening here.”
“Would send you some help but your friends are tied up right now.”
Garrett knew better than to ask where Kim and Mario were or what they were doing. He’d only get a cover story or a lie. Since hanging up his metaphorical guns he’d been left out of the loop, which was exactly how he wanted to keep it for the time being.
“Don’t worry.” Garrett looked over to Kai. “I’m getting some help from an old friend.”
“Glad to hear it.” Murray cleared his throat. “Just promise me you’ll back off if things start looking dangerous.”
“It’s a deal,” Garrett lied. “We’re just going to keep an eye out. Do a little surveillance.”
The phone call ended with Garrett feeling a bit more invigorated. With the input from Bridger and Murray, his investigation was coming together. If they could just catch this Frenchman in the act of sabotage it would be all but over and done.
Garrett pressed the gas and sped into a curve. “See anything, yet?”
“Not yet. But he’s got nowhere to go. One road in. One road out. Once he gets up to the compressor station he’ll be trapped. We may not catch him in the act, but I’d say he’d better have a damn good reason for being out here by himself in the middle of nowhere.”
Garrett gave a confident nod. “Between what we know and what we suspect, it’s enough to hold his feet to the fire. If we can get those guys who spotted the foreigner up here to identify Cloutier, then there’s enough to start a real investigation. We’ll see how cagey this Frenchman wants to be once we have a witness ready to testify and manslaughter charges on the table.”
Kai chuckled. “Hope you’re not planning on going back to that slush pit again. After what I saw earlier I—”
Kai had not gotten out the rest when the GMC’s front end lifted into the air and the pickup corkscrewed left, flipping first onto the roof, rolling to its side, and then turning over once more in slow motion until the truck was back on all four wheels. Several seconds passed as Garrett sat dazed, wondering if what just happened was real or imagined. Wondering if he was even alive.
His ears ringing from the blast, Garrett looked around through the shattered windows to find the truck engulfed in a cloud of pulverized caliche and snow. Instinctively, he mashed the gas to get off the X, but he saw that the hood was crumpled. His truck would be junked for parts.
Reaching right for Kai, Garrett felt before he saw that his friend was bleeding. In the chaos of the moment, his mind raced for answers. But the only conclusion he could draw since they were near the compressor station was that they’d arrived too late to stop the next act of sabotage.
As a suffocating waft of dust filled the cab through the busted-out windows, Garrett reached for the handle and kicked the door open. He had just stepped outside, gasping for air, when a bullet snapped by his ear. Diving to the ground, he rolled beneath the chassis and put his hands over his head as a flurry of rounds tinged and thunked against the back bumper and the tailgate.
In that moment it became obvious to Garrett that they weren’t just collateral damage from an attack on the compressor station, but rather the target of an ambush. And it was no longer important that they were on to Cloutier. What mattered most now was that he was on to them.