Free The Power Broker by Stephen Frey

top of one of those waves, then lost it all a few years later so Hewitt had to get a real job after graduation. Started with U.S. Oil as a grunt in the finance department, but it was a rocket ride to the top from there. He was head of the North American division at thirty-eight, head of worldwide exploration at forty-six, and head of everything at forty-nine. Handed the CEO job over to a younger guy a few years ago, but he still runs the place. The CEO move was just for Wall Street, to show investors that there was a succession plan in place.”
    “Family?”
    “Wife, three children, and seven grandchildren, one he’s very close to.”
    “Let me guess. The one named after him. As in Samuel Hewitt the third.”
    Quentin nodded. “He calls the kid Three Sticks. How the hell—”
    “Only makes sense. Hewitt wants his namesake to be the smartest one of the crew, so he spends the most time with him, tries to pass on his experience and knowledge.” Christian had seen that trait before in successful older executives: the desire to pass on what they knew. He’d had a few mentors along the way. “What’s Hewitt like?”
    “He knows when to use the hatchet and when to turn on the charm. He was a political animal during his younger days at U.S. Oil—did whatever it took to move up the food chain and didn’t care who he screwed on the way. There’s a rumor he secretly videotaped one of his bosses having sex with a secretary, then anonymously dropped the tape off at the personnel department so the guy would get fired and he could get the guy’s job. Never substantiated, but the guy resigned under a cloud and Hewitt ended up getting his job.”
    “I’m surprised he hasn’t gone into politics,” Christian said, “especially with all those connections.”
    “Sounds like he has for all intents and purposes. Just hasn’t bothered to run.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “My source says Hewitt pulls a ton of strings,” Quentin explained. “In return he gets a ton of favors.”
    “Plenty of people do that.”
    Quentin shook his head. “Not like this, robo, not on this scale. I’ll give you an example. A couple of years ago one of U.S. Oil’s big tankers ran aground off Alaska. Spilled millions of gallons of crude, wiped out wildlife up and down the coast for miles—it was as bad as the
Valdez.
They’ll be feeling the effects of that accident way after we’re dead and gone.”
    “I never heard about it.”
    “Not many people did. It was kept
very
quiet. Alaska’s politicians didn’t say a word, the Coast Guard never said anything, the media never got hold of it. Hewitt had everybody in his pocket.” Quentin paused. “One local reporter tried to do a story on it. He’s been missing since two weeks after the accident and nobody knows what happened to him.”
    Christian wagged a finger. “You can’t assume Samuel Hewitt had anything to do with that guy’s disappearance.”
    “I’m not assuming anything,” Quentin spoke up quickly. “I just thought you should hear about it.”
    “Uh-huh.” Christian wasn’t buying into that kind of speculation. He’d called some friends who’d gone to Princeton, and everything they had to say pointed to Hewitt’s being a model citizen: a man who gave lots of money to the school as well as to a number of charities. “Anything else?”
    “You were right about poker. It’s Hewitt’s passion. Plays as much as he can and plays for big stakes.”
    “Good.” Christian pulled out his cell phone when it started to ring. “Hello.”
    “Christian, it’s Ray Lancaster. Remember that quarterback I told you I wanted?”
    Lancaster had called earlier to tell Christian he was targeting Buffalo’s second-string quarterback as a replacement for Ricky Poe. “Yeah.”
    “In return they want one of our all-pro linebackers, our placekicker,
and
five million bucks in cash.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding,” Christian said angrily. “A second-string quarterback can’t be