St Kilda Consulting 02 - Innocent as Sin

with great interest. “So you read Le Figaro, ” he said to her in French.
    Surprised, she put hands over the folder in front of her almost protectively.
    “I assume you brought the article,” Steele said, switching to English.
    After a moment the researcher shrugged, opened the folder, and said, “It’s one of Europe’s leading newspapers, not some rag.”
    “Pass the article around,” Steele said. “Everyone should seewhat is being used in an effort to discredit St. Kilda Consulting.”
    She slid the single sheet of paper toward Prosser, a copy of the article. He picked it up and looked at it. “I don’t read French,” he said.
    “The pertinent section is about halfway down,” Steele said, taking the paper from him, “between the two typographic devices this particular gossip columnist uses to break up items in his screed. Correct my translation if you wish, Ms. Carroll.”
    She pulled a second copy of the article from the folder and read while Steele translated.
    “‘The American-based mercenary security organization St. Kilda Consulting, a group well known for collecting extortionate fees from private clients all over the world, is expanding its activities into central Africa, according to well-placed intelligence sources.
    “‘It is reported that the group, which outwardly operates as an independent investigative and security consulting firm, has been retained to cripple legitimate commercial intercourse between various French firms and customers in the French sphere of influence in Africa, which includes several countries on both sides of the equator.
    “‘It is not known if St. Kilda’s efforts are endorsed or perhaps even secretly sponsored by American interests or even the government itself, but various international investigators are pursuing all leads.’”
    Steele glanced toward the researcher and waited.
    “That’s an honest translation,” she said, faintly surprised.
    “That’s not how this article was represented to me,” Carson said. “It may be a respected newspaper, but this is a gossip column, not an investigative piece.”
    Carroll went back to looking at her nails.
    “The correspondent is a well-regarded journalist,” Steele said, “although that designation has different meanings in different places. He has excellent sources in the French political and security establishment, which is why his attack is so interesting. He has no particular reason to run the item, no news hook, as I believe you in the business call it. He’s just throwing mud.”
    Prosser winced.
    Martin began to relax.
    Carroll decided that she’d redo her nails in bloodred.
    “The attack on St. Kilda,” Steele said, “most likely comes from one of France’s largest energy companies. The company is seeking oil concessions all over Africa. In the past, the company has paid for such concessions with guns, bullets, aircraft, even machetes like the one that was used so many years ago to chop off John Neto’s hand.”
    “Wait a minute,” Brent Thomas broke in. “You’re saying that some French oil company is pulling strings behind the scenes, trading guns for oil with one hand and planting rumors with respected and influential journalists with the other?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s either crazy or the best damned news story I ever heard.”
    “It’s both,” Steele said.
    Carson leaned forward. “All I care about is Andre Bertone. He’s the man we’re putting in the UBS spotlight. He’s the one who’ll sue our balls off if he doesn’t like what we say.”
    “Bertone is the cutout for the oil company,” Steele said. “If you’re a multibillion-dollar multinational corporation with direct political connections, you don’t openly buy planeloads of guns and then hand them over to rebels who in return will give you multiyear oil concessions when they come to power.”
    Carson started taking notes.
    “Andre Bertone is brokering the deal for the oil company,” Steele continued. “He used to be an ordinary middleman. Rebel groups would siphon barge loads of oil out of transnational pipelines and trade them to Bertone for cases of assault rifles. From there he bought planes and pilots. Now he’s an international energy broker who, if Neto is overthrown, will control millions of barrels of potential Camgerian production, which he’ll sell to the French for a long-term profit of a billion dollars.”
    Everyone sat up straighter.
    “Billion?” Prosser asked. “As in a thousand