The Spy Devils by Joe Goldberg (top rated books of all time .TXT) 📕

It is injured.” MacBride looked at the bandages and bruises over his eye.

“Are you alright?” Kirkwood asked.

“Yes, just something I picked up in Ukraine.” Peter flashed a quick look at each of the senior executives.

Peter had landed in Chicago aboard Bridger’s plane at 4 a.m.

After a shower and some fresh clothes, Peter took one last look at his notes. During the flight back, he used his analytic skills to dissect the MacLean and Kirkwood documents he received from Sandy Boyd. Combining his own research, financial, and news reports, he culled through every bit of information, looking for the patterns.

Once Peter figured it all out—or as much as he could with what he had—he debated whether he should inform the FBI and SEC. Should he raise his suspicions of economic espionage by the Chinese, or the falsification of Kirkwood’s earnings? Or should he wait and see what happened? Essentially, keep quiet and do nothing.

His conclusions were rock solid—Peter had no doubt of that. If he went through with his presentation, he knew the shit was going to hit the fan. He didn’t want the company to lay off any of his colleagues due to a scandal he exposed.

He called Marilyn at 8 a.m., telling her he needed to meet immediately with MacBride, Jessup, and Kirkwood “regarding the Ukraine assignment.”

The executives were sitting around the boardroom table in the exact locations where, two weeks ago, Peter had been given this assignment by the same men. Peter gave them his report, ending with the news that Hillcrest was destroyed.

“Well, that is certainly quite a story,” MacBride said.

“Yes, it is. The case being destroyed makes its recovery moot,” Jessup said.

“And the funds?” Kirkwood inquired.

“I do not know,” Peter answered.

“Well, that is very disappointing. I was counting on you,” Kirkwood said.

“Well, thank you, Peter. We need to discuss our next course of action, so if you will excuse us,” Jessup said in a completely condescending way, dismissing Peter like a child.

Decision time had come.

“I looked into Kirkwood regarding Ukraine and other issues.”

“Why?” MacBride seemed surprised.

“It’s not unusual to do an analysis of your own company.” Peter’s answer was professional, not defensive. “I do it from the perspective of the competition. You see, then we can see how the competition views us. Maybe make some assumptions on what they think we might do and in reverse, what they might do. So—," Peter leaned over and read from his prepared notes, “—I used the same process for all the activity since George MacLean arrived. I wanted to know.”

Peter picked up on their nervousness. Kirkwood’s cheeks were lava red. Jessup pursed his lower lip out and in. MacBride was rubbing his thumb and middle finger together as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

“Does this have a point?” Peter saw Jessup put on his lawyer’s face.

Peter flipped open a folder and read from his notes.

“Kirkwood was part of Nigeria's supply contracts for Abuja’s massive metro rail public transport system. Kenya. Senegal. Ghana. Oil and infrastructure deals.” Peter’s head hurt, and he pulled the paper closer to his face to read it better in the dim light.

“In Latin America, we won deals for the oil refineries in Costa Rica, the hydro projects in Argentina, roads, ports, and railroads in Peru, Brazil, Venezuela, and hell, pretty much across the continent. Quite a run. A firm named Mourning Dove Investments was not involved in any contracts before George MacLean’s arrival. Can’t find them anywhere. Now, Mourning Dove is a factor in—well—everything.”

“That is not a secret,” Kirkwood said, as his hue stabilized at stop sign red.

Jessup was ready to pounce.

“George introduced us to Mourning Dove. They’ve been a valuable partner. We are very busy, Peter, and I am sorry to say you are not helpful here.”

Peter forged on.

“I noticed a company called—" Peter paused while he checked his notes, “Quadrangle Investment Group, LLC, buried deep in every Mourning Dove contract. I traced the ownership, but it ended before it began. The company was consistently included in our business and it makes me wonder.” He stopped short of adding, “…and was obvious MacLean was funneling funds through inflated revenues in those contracts and taking a cut with each deal. He was committing a crime…”

“Anyone ever heard of Quadrangle?” Peter asked.

“Poor George. Few knew he was in such a terrible predicament,” a voice said from the direction of the door.

Peter involuntarily flinched. Before he turned, he knew it was a man in a nice bespoke worsted wool suit and floral tie.

“Hello, everyone.” Ever the consultant, Chapel sauntered around the table, shaking hands. He sat opposite Peter, to Kirkwood’s left. He reached out and patted Kirkwood’s arm.

“Hello, Danny. Wonderful to see you,” Kirkwood replied with a sound of relief. Having Chapel in the room seemed to be the crutch Kirkwood needed to offset the red-checked look of dread that had taken over his face since Peter started laying out the facts.

“Peter, if I had known you were coming back so quickly, I would have invited you to join me.” He pointed at Peter. “Gentlemen, you should be very proud of your employee here. He did all he could to bring a complex situation in Ukraine to a favorable end for Kirkwood. And he seems worse for the wear. Are you alright, Peter?”

“Yes, thank you,” Peter answered, knowing he wanted to strangle the smug smile off Chapel’s face with his floral tie. Peter was amazed at how fresh he looked.

“It there anything else, Peter?” Kirkwood asked.

“Well, I’m just confused. Things are rattling around my head on how the different events were connected—if they are. MacLean. Hillcrest. Bondar. Kirkwood. Mourning Dove.” He left out Hillcrest plus Chapel plus Chen plus The Spy Devils. The equation was too complicated.

Peter’s head throbbed, but he needed to finish what he had started. There wasn’t another option.

“Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions?”

“Time—” Jessup said as he abruptly stood.

Peter got the message.

“Thank you, Peter. Another job well done.”

The executives exited the boardroom through the far door that led to