The Hadrian Memorandum - Allan Folsom [28]
“We do.”
“You?”
Truex nodded. “If it’s done right, and Washington is convinced SimCo will take the fall cleanly, they’ll approve it. They won’t like it, but they’ll approve it because of the sheer scope of the thing and because they won’t dare risk losing what’s there to the maneuverings of a foreign power. Once they do, we’ll bring in a new contractor, one squeaky clean. Maybe Belgian or Dutch. I’ll find out exactly who.”
“That means telling them what’s going on.”
“Yes, it does.”
Wirth stared at Truex, then again looked to Arnold Moss. “Tell him he’s fucking crazy.”
Moss shook his head. “He’s not crazy, Sy, he’s right. They should know what’s happened and what we’re doing to correct it. Despite what Mr. Truex has said, they may already know and wonder why we haven’t told them. If they don’t and find out later, they’ll be understandably upset. Enough so that they might just cancel the contract anyway and make a deal with another oil company even if we’re lucky enough to retrieve the photographs before something happens. Besides, if we include them now, they may be able to help.”
“Arnie.” Wirth’s anger was building. “That’s the same as telling them we can’t control our own goddam business. Contractually we’re in bed with them for years on down the road. We can’t have them wondering what the fuck’s next or they’ll chop us off at the knees. Once that happens, forget ever having them go to bat for us again. And I mean ever! And it won’t make a longhorn’s-fucking-ass difference what party or administration’s in power.”
Moss smiled delicately. “Sy, you pay me for advice. This time I suggest you take it. Washington is not a group we can ignore and then apologize to later. We’re not buying land or oil rigs here, we’re helping facilitate a revolution. They need to know what’s going on and understand that we would very much appreciate their help in resolving the situation. There are times in life when honesty really is the best policy. This is one of them.”
Wirth stared at him. He hated all this. Hated that it had happened. Hated to have anything go this far out of his control. Especially when it revolved around something as simple and stupid as a few photographs snapped by a nosy priest. On the other hand, he knew he had to consider the counsel of Arnie Moss, a man he had known for years and to whom he had entrusted Striker’s legal wrangling ever since he had become chairman of the company.
Finally he looked to Truex. “Get in your Gulfstream and go back to Washington. Call them from the plane, tell them you’re coming and that it’s important they wait for you. You should be in their offices by seven, maybe eight their time. When you get there, tell them what’s happened and make me the bad guy, say that I wanted to go after the photographs on my own. That I hoped we’d retrieve them before anything came of it. But you disagreed and came here to talk me out of it because you felt it was important they know what has happened, not just because we’re all partners in this but because you value who they are and what they believe in and want their muscle and help. You convinced me you were right and went back to meet with them. That will explain the time delay if they already know what’s going on.” Wirth turned to Arnold Moss. “You okay with that?”
“Yes.” Moss nodded.
Wirth looked to Truex. “You?”
“Yes.”
“Call me when it’s done.”
“You bet.” Truex looked from one man to the other, then started for the door.
“Loyal,” Wirth said, and Truex turned back. “Dracula Joe Ryder in is Iraq with a group of other congressmen looking for any dirty crumb he can lay to us.”
“I know.”
“After you’re through with Washington, go there. Find Ryder and hold his hand. Be as gracious as you can be. Kiss his ass without looking like it. Show him anything he wants. Make him feel we have absolutely nothing to hide.”
Truex grinned. “There is no dirt, Sy. No cakes or crumbs, either. Never has been. We all know that, don’t we?