I ONCE LOST SOMEONE who went on a contract with me. It was one of the first ones I headed up by myself. A straightforward job, if one looked at it with the power of hindsight. A simple snatch and grab in Venezuela six years ago. The problem was that the target didn’t just have bodyguards, he had the whole police force protecting him. His pockets were as deep as they come. A shootout with dirty cops ended up with one of my men taking a bullet in the neck and dying on a highway right outside Caracas. The difference there was that he had signed up for it. This time I’d asked an untrained and inexperienced person to help me kidnap an international criminal—simply because he was my friend who I’d felt guilty about not telling about my world. Which was unacceptable.
After 25 minutes of swimming
