Unmitigated Greed

Prologue

Zurich, Switzerland

Valentine Fuchs sat in his comfortable recliner, immerced in the spectacular view of Lake Zurichsee and the mountains beyond from his fifth-floor den while sipping an expensive cognac. He had just finished watching a 60 Minutes piece on the supply chain debacle happening in the U.S. He was very familiar with how difficult it had become to move products from location to location. Distribution was more complicated for his businesses because what they had to transport was all contraband. Drugs, knock-off designer items, and even oil from embargoed countries like Iran and Russia, needed to go from producer to end user.

The supply chain wasn’t his only issue. Because of the drug company fiasco earlier in the month, he had empty management positions that needed to be filled. The European overlord and member of the Council of Continents had submitted a name to replace Andrew Buchanan, Great Britain’s supervisor. That still left the North America overlord seat on the council to be filled. Had Senator Smithson abided by the organization’s covenant, there would be no open chair. Of course, if that American bus driver had kept his nose out of the organization’s business, they would still own a drug manufacturer. That was now in the past. It was time to deal with the present.

North America had too many qualified candidates for the position. He could choose an old-school gangster like Tommy Siciliano, or one of the tech-savvy new-age criminals who spent their time hacking into computers. Both had large plusses and minuses. Traditional gangsters weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, but most were already being closely watched by the police. The tech guys and girls performed best behind a desk. Field work was not their strong suit. What he really needed was a hybrid. A highly intelligent person who understood technology but lived in the real world. Someone who wouldn’t mind pulling the trigger if the situation arose.

One name appeared more than any other—Frank Mason. The man spoke English, Spanish, and German. He earned a B.S. in Computer Science from Yale while being a member of their lacrosse team. Valentine felt the young man showed promise. Besides being smart and athletic, he also had a dark past. It was time to contact him.

Chapter 1

Frank Mason stepped from the jet bridge into the Laredo International Airport terminal and an icy shiver ran down his spine. After all that happened to him during his teen years, he swore he’d never return. Yet here he was.

The place had undergone a major renovation since he was there last, some twenty-plus years ago. Everything had changed from the days when it was Laredo Air Force Base, except for the control tower.

To say Frank Mason was interesting would be an understatement. Although born in Boston, he spent the latter part of his childhood in the border town of Laredo, Texas. Frank’s father worked for the Customs and Immigration Department of the U.S. Government. The family moved to Laredo when his dad accepted a position as head of station for the area. It was a superb career move for his father, but the beginning of a troubled childhood for Frank.

Laredo’s population is 96% Hispanic, with English spoken only as a second language by the residents of this border town. Not understanding what was going on around him was only the first problem for Frank to overcome when he started sixth grade. True, they taught classes in English, but the rest of the conversations were in Spanish. Frank quickly realized that he was one of only three kids not of Mexican heritage and the other two weren’t in his class. Finally, as word got around that his dad was not just a Federale, but also Inmigracion, fewer and fewer of his classmates wanted to be friends with Frank.

Being immersed in a language and culture is the fastest way to learn it, especially for a highly intelligent young person. The language barrier dissolved within a few months, but Frank never felt as though he belonged. A few of his fellow students began bullying him. Back in Boston, Frank had taken Karate lessons and was quite adept at it for a beginner. It didn’t take long for him to show the aggressors he was not to be messed with.

When the largest boy in his class knocked the books from Frank’s hands, he tried to let it slide. He bent down to pick up his books and a second boy knocked him over. It felt like the entire class was watching and laughing. Enough was enough. As Frank pushed himself off the floor, he swept one leg around, buckling the second boy’s knees and dumping him on the floor. Next, Frank pivoted on one foot and sent his elbow crashing into the large boy’s solar plexus. The kid crumbled to his knees, gasping for air.

Of course, no one came to Frank’s defense when the teacher investigated and he had to stay after school for fighting, but it was worth it. After that, no one messed with Frank Mason. He learned some important lessons that day. Never let your guard down. Always be aware of the people around you as well as your surroundings. If attacked, there was no such thing as too much force. Avoid a fight, if possible; if not, always fight to win. This became his credo for the rest of his life.

For the next two years, school was a place Frank had to go to, not a place he wanted to be. His parents had located a local dojo where he could continue his training and he began competing in statewide tournaments. The Laredo Morning Times reported on his victories and in time, he went from outcast to local hero. The two boys he had bested the previous year eventually became his friends. If he wasn’t winning Karate competitions, he was winning prizes for academic excellence.

Frank possessed an analytical mind, excelling in problem-solving. The subjects that interested him the most were chemistry and computer science. Laredo High School provided a sound basic education but didn’t offer the type of advanced curriculum that could support a student like Frank.

Two events happened to Frank during the last month of his junior year of high school that shaped the man he would become. The first was the murder of his father, not by some human trafficking gang, but by one of his own INS colleagues. The man, suspended by Frank’s father for taking a bribe, showed up at his dad’s office and shot him multiple times before being killed by fellow agents.

Frank’s mother, devastated by the loss, overdosed on sedatives prescribed by her doctor to help her sleep. The only thing Frank had left was a full scholarship to Yale, the house his mother died in, and the family car. Frank’s childhood was now officially over.