Boyd Ultimate Deception

1. Auflage 2011
ISBN: 978-1-61792-505-4
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 167 Seiten

The follow up to 'Twisted Fate,' days following the daring rescues and turning the FARC leaders over to the FBI the U.S. President decides to relocate the FARC leader to Guantanamo Bay, CUBA. The FARC leader and team transporting him are all killed. Only a select few in the United States and Colombian governments knew of the capture. The President tasked Davis and his team to discover the source of the leak that led to the deaths. Davis and team take on the job knowing that it had to be someone high up on one or both governments. While agreeing to the mission, Davis also tries to keep a promise to his future sister-in-law who was held captive for more than eleven years by the FARC, 'to find the other hostages held by the FARC in the Colombian jungles.'

Autoren/Hrsg.

Boyd, John

Leseproben

PROLOGUE   It was early autumn of 1973 when TW Wyatt decided to make his move. He was a recent graduate of Texas A&M University with a bachelor’s of science in geology. Though the degree took him an extra year to earn, it wasn’t because he lacked the brain power. He finished either first or second in his class, but that wasn’t important to him. In his sophomore year, his father had committed suicide, and he had taken time away from school to help his mother. After closing down their failed oil company, they were left with only a few oil leases and some property in West Texas that his father bought in the fifties. The big companies had pushed his dad out of business, and Wyatt blamed them to this day. He had sold almost all their equipment and tools to pay off debts. At least his parents’ home was paid for, and his mother continued teaching school, so she could survive. Now, at twenty-seven years old, Wyatt was ready for the next step. Face it, he was bitter. It started upon his return from Vietnam, and to this day, he harbored a great deal of resentment against the US government and the American people for the treatment of the soldiers both when they were fighting in that godforsaken hellhole and when they were ridiculed upon returning home. He had served his country in that war for four years, like his father in WWII; he expected better, but now he knew. It was up to him to pay people back and make his mark. Today he was driving to Dallas to meet with his childhood friend, Milton Combs. Milt was the same age as he, but had gotten out of law school five years earlier and was now a partner at his father’s firm, one of the largest in Texas. Milt hadn’t charged him anything to close down his father’s business, and he had used his family’s influence to retain some leases and properties from the big oil companies that had attacked like vultures on road kill. They were neighbors as kids and had gone to the same schools, played on the same football team, and even dated some of the same girls. Today he’d ask his friend to help again, but this time he could pay him back—he hoped. “Wyatt, how the hell are you?” Milt said, as they met in the office waiting area, and he was glad Milt had remembered how much he hated his real name, Toliver Wilson. “I’m good, Milt. How are your folks?” “They’re fine. Dad’s in his office. We’ll stick our heads in later so you can say hello.” “Great. Damn it’s good to see you.” “Well, come on back to my office so we can tell lies in private.” Milt winked at the receptionist and patted him on the back. “You want something to drink?” “No thanks.” They sat in Milt’s office, and Wyatt set his briefcase down next to him. They chatted about old times for a few minutes, and then they got into the reason for Wyatt’s visit. He had come to ask his friend to be his partner in the oil business. He knew that Milt’s family was very wealthy. Besides, he trusted Milt, and, to him, that was more important. He probably could find money elsewhere with the current oil crisis, but he was loyal to those people who were loyal to him. “Well, I know you didn’t call to come over to hear about my love life, so what’s up?” Milt asked. “You and I have been friends forever,” he said. “I’ll never forget what you did for Mother and me after Dad passed.” “Wyatt, you would have done the same for me.” “I’d like to think so, but I’m here to tell you that I’m going into the oil business on my own.” Milt frowned. “I know, I know. You might be thinking that I’m doing this out of some kind of revenge or following in a dreamer’s footsteps.” “No, it’s not that. It’s that I know how hard it is for independent small oil companies to make it, and now with the shortage, a great deal of pressure is going to be put on the US-oil companies to produce now.” He put up a hand. “Listen,” he said. “The two large West Texas properties that you helped us keep from the big oil companies are winners. Since I left school, I took Dad’s last drill rig and a few of his old Mexicans. We went and drilled some test wells, and although I can’t afford the proper equipment now, we hit oil in ten areas. Based on the soil borings, that strata is consistent to a large field rich in both natural gas and light sweet crude.” “Sounds promising.” “More than that.” He opened his briefcase, pulled out the survey of the property, and laid it on the desk. “See the small circles. This is where we found oil, and see these circles over here. This is where old Standard Oil drilled in the early fifties, found nothing, and moved on. But my dreamer of a father bought it for a song in fifty-five because no one thought there was any oil there. They never checked the end of the property.” Milt leaned back in his chair. “What do you want me to do?” “A couple of things. We will need some money to do more testing before we put production wells, but more important...” He pointed to a spot on the map. “...I would like you to buy this property or at least get it under contract, so I can drill some test wells. I believe the oil field starts here on our property and continues into that one.” “Let’s say I do this,” Milt told him. “What kind of deal would you want to work out?” “Well, here’s what I think. Our property is about twenty-five hundred acres, and the adjoining tract is about ten thousand acres. They have an asking price of two million dollars, and we’ll need about one million to verify what I believe to be true. I’m sure that based on my test wells, I could go to the big oil companies at worst case and sell the property to recover the three million. But if the field is as large as I expect it to be, we’ll need even more money to harvest the oil and pipe it. With your contacts, I don’t think that will be a problem.” “Wyatt, it’s Friday, and my calendar is free.” Milt grinned. “Let’s take a trip. I’d like to kick some dirt.” Milt had been a pilot since he was eighteen and loved to fly. He’d just bought a new twin engine plane and jumped at any excuse to get hours in it. And he was more familiar with the oil companies than even Wyatt knew. The firm specialized in providing legal services for the oil and gas industry. In fact, he would be taking over as partner of the Houston office which currently had over one hundred lawyers concentrating in the oil and gas field, both in the US and outside. Even though the firm was founded by his father, he had already made a mark in his own right; he graduated from Harvard Law School at twenty-two and had recently negotiated landmark oil leases between the US’s largest oil company and the US government. From what he had learned through that exercise, he was interested in putting it to use for himself. They landed in Rio Lobo a little after 2:00 in the afternoon. They were able to look at both properties via air so Milt could get a feel before landing. They were met by one of Wyatt’s men and took the tour of the property by sunset. They decided to check in at a local motel and spend the night before heading back. Besides, they both wanted to go over a plan. During the tour, Milt caught oil fever and already had something in mind, but he’d let Wyatt talk first. One of the things he learned in law school was you can always counter a bad offer and accept a good one with a handshake. They found a Mexican restaurant close by, and with an open bottle of tequila, they got down to business. “So, what do you think, Milt?” “If it’s even close to what you think, it probably will be a good deal.” “I know it. It just got overlooked by the big boys, once they put those test holes in the ground in the wrong area.” “What kind of deal do you want to do, and how long will it take to figure the size of this animal?” “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. If you can put up the money and I do the work, I’d like to do a 50/50 deal. I’ll throw the property we own in up front as a little security. Once we prove what I believe, help me put the money together and the oil to market, then I’ll pay you back first for any funds we can’t get a bank to loan us. Then, we’ll split the profits equally. You can have any part you want in running the business if it takes off. I’m an oil man, and that’s what I want to do.” Milt looked at his friend glad that he let him do the talking first. “Wyatt, I like the deal in principle. I can get the money. We’ll talk to someone tomorrow about that and I’ve got a banker friend who owes me. But, I want to be in the background. With our law firm handling all the big oil companies’ work, it can’t be known that I’ve got a financial interest in one.” “How will we handle it then?” “My cousin John,” he said. “He just graduated from law school and passed the bar. I’ll set him up with his own shingle to handle all of the legal work, under my supervision of course.” “Well, I guess that settles it,” Wyatt told him, and they...