Chapter 19
CHAPTER
HIS OFFICIAL WORK IN WASHINGTON done, Nash had dinner and drinks at Café Milano in Georgetown with two of the firm’s lobbyists, cabbed back to his hotel, and sat staring blankly at a wall, waiting.
The politicians he’d met with had been uniform in their enthusiasm for truth, justice, and the American way, and they seemed amenable to Nash’s arguments that the regulations in question would cost jobs and stifle both competition and innovation.
These were the standard excuses every time businesses wanted to run wild and the government sought to rein them in, however reasonably.
It almost always worked because the business community had all the money and made sure theirs was the only message that resonated with people who would never share in that wealth.
Indeed, Nash knew it was often the poorest folks who were injured the most by corporate malfeasance.
But regardless, this was America and that was just how it was.
Nash didn’t necessarily like it, but his job was to work within that reality.
However, he noted that the politicians’ staffs had hovered over them, waiting to pounce if anything said seemed like it might require their guy to actually do anything.
He stopped thinking about all that when he received a text from Agent Morris.
He left his hotel room, rode the elevator three floors up, and knocked on the door to Room 506.
He was admitted into a large suite by a burly man with a comm line in his ear and a transponder snapped into his belt.
The man patted Nash down for weapons, and Nash glimpsed the holstered pistol when the man turned to let him pass.
From another room Agent Morris appeared with a woman by his side. He said, “This is Special Agent Amy Braxton, Mr. Nash.”
“This way,” said Braxton tersely.
They led Nash into a small living area. A tall, suited man with sandy hair and a beefy build stood and held out his hand.
“Mr. Nash, I’m Bernard Duvall, deputy attorney general of the United States.”
The men shook hands, and then Nash glanced in surprise at Morris. He had not been expecting anyone this high-level.
“I was told you wanted to meet?” began Duvall, indicating a chair. Both men sat.
“Yes. I’ve been told a criminal enterprise is ongoing at my firm, but I’ve been given very few details and no proof. Without that, I’m not sure how or why I should sign on.”
Duvall cleared his throat. “You can appreciate that our level of disclosure at this juncture must be limited.”
“And I’m sure you can appreciate that I’m being asked to give up my entire life and that of my family. What would you do if confronted with that same situation?”
Duvall glanced at the two agents and then edged forward, his hands braced on his thighs. “We understand that this is a personal sacrifice. But we believe that you are uniquely placed to help us bring down an organization that has a chance to upend our entire country.”
Nash decided to fire the first salvo right across the government’s bow. “Just like Danielle Cho, Alexandra Singer, and now Peter Lombard were uniquely placed to do?”
He would not break the silence until one of them did. This was like the phase in a negotiation where one side had to blink. Well, Walter Nash was a world-class nonblinker.
I’ll wait it out until we all die of old age in this damn hotel room.
As it turned out, it only took Agent Morris ten seconds to blink. “And how did you come to know about that?”
Nash took his time turning his gaze to the man. “When someone approaches me with any offer of significance, I take it upon myself to perform some due diligence.”
“I’m not sure we can get into any of that with you,” said Braxton, while Duvall remained silent. “And your conclusions could well be incorrect.”
Nash said, “Well, if I am wrong, you won’t mind my asking Rhett Temple about the three of them then? I’m sure he’ll have a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
He watched as Morris and Duvall exchanged a nervous glance.
Duvall said, “Seldom do these sorts of endeavors work out the first time.”
“Or the second or third,” observed Nash, who was having none of this.
“So you intend to make me the fourth? And when they punch my ticket, what will you tell the fifth sucker? Because they’re going to have questions, and the EVP of acquisitions going down along with three other affiliated company members in a fairly short period of time would be tops on my discussion list.”
Duvall chuckled feebly. “I believe we overlooked the fact that you are a highly experienced negotiator, Mr. Nash.”
Nash gave the deputy AG a slow burn of a look before leveling an even more withering gaze on Morris. “And the fact that I wasn’t told about the three other people beforehand but had to find out for myself? Well, I think we can all agree that trust just got tossed out the window.”
“We need your help, Mr. Nash. Desperately,” said Duvall, now sweating a little despite the coolness of the room.
“If you are that desperate and there is personal danger involved, that should be reflected in the offer you make, don’t you think? But I don’t really see what I get in return except spending the rest of my life stocking shelves at a dollar store in Idaho.”
“Excuse me, a dollar store in Idaho?” said a confused-looking Duvall.
“I think he’s talking about WITSEC,” explained Morris.
“Ah, right.”
“Yes, ‘ah, right,’” parroted Nash. “And threatening me with criminal prosecution if I don’t cooperate doesn’t move the needle for me, either. Quite the opposite.”
“We do not engage in those tactics, Mr. Nash,” said Duvall huffily.
Looking directly at Morris once more, Nash replied, “Then you need to circulate a memo, because I don’t think everyone on your team has gotten that message.”
Duvall shot Morris a stern glance, but the FBI agent wouldn’t look his way.
“So are you saying you have chosen not to work with us?” said Duvall.
“I’m saying that I believe there is a reasonable likelihood that three people who worked at companies affiliated with Sybaritic may have been murdered.
So perhaps my doubts about there really being criminal activity are probably now less than they were.
However, I can’t make a decision to work with you unless you tell me what this is all about.
It’s like you want me to argue a case before the Supreme Court without my having gone to law school first.”
Duvall sat back and let his arms dangle freely off the sides of the chair. To Nash, he looked like a chubby marionette whose puppet master had cut all its support lines.
“An apt analogy,” Duvall replied. He nodded at Morris.
The FBI agent promptly said, “The org we’re targeting is run by Victoria Steers.”
“Never heard of her.”
Morris snarled, “You wanted to get briefed on what this is about? Well, I’m telling you, so listen up.”
Nash, sensing the man needed to save some face with his boss, said, “Go ahead.”
“Her father, Joseph Steers, was in the British navy, but then got out and settled in Japan. There, he married Steers’s mother, and they had quite a brood. Victoria was the youngest. She’s also the only surviving sibling.”
“What happened to the others?” asked Nash.
“We believe that Victoria killed them, or had them killed,” said Morris.
“Excuse me?” exclaimed a shocked Nash.
“Joseph Steers was pretty much a nothing burger who seemed to lead a quiet life. However, his wife, Masuyo, had very different plans.”
“Masuyo, translated from Japanese, can mean ‘to make the world your own,’” noted Duvall. “And Masuyo Steers did just that, and taught her youngest to do the same.”
“Is Masuyo still alive?” asked Nash. “And her husband?”
“We don’t know the answers to that,” conceded Morris.
“They have not been seen in public for years. But we know that the empire the Steers family built up over the last five-plus decades is now run solely by Victoria. She is smart, nimble, tough, cruel as they come, and a master manipulator. She came up through the school of hard knocks and survived.” He gave Nash a probing look. “Sort of like you did.”
“But I never killed anyone to get to where I am,” pointed out Nash. “Tell me more about her operation.”
Duvall said, “She controls dozens of carefully constructed companies with subsidiaries and interlocking corporate relationships and partnerships, labyrinths of legalese spread all over the world that the lawyers at Justice have not even made a dent in despite grinding away for years. It’s all seemingly legitimate. ”
Morris said, “The important point to understand is that we have recently come to learn that Steers’s mother is not Japanese.
She is actually Chinese. And as a young woman she was planted in Japan as a Communist Party agent to undermine democracy in that country.
Her subsequent marriage to Joseph Steers was apparently part of that cover.
But then Masuyo went rogue and began creating the behemoth that their daughter Victoria now runs.
And Victoria, we believe, has thrown in her lot with Beijing. ”
“Thrown in her lot to do what, exactly?” said Nash.
“To bring this country to its knees,” answered Duvall.