The Heist

Griffin said. “You ratted me out.”
    “Of course I did,” Burnside said without a trace of guilt or regret in his voice.
    “I would never have asked for your help to go into hiding if I’d known you’d tell anybody who asked where to find me.”
    “Not anybody, just Mexican drug lords ready to take a blowtorch to my balls to get your home address.”
    “I thought you were a man of principle.”
    “I am, and my basic, overriding, number one principle is personal survival.”
    “What makes you think he won’t kill us both now?”
    “I’m a pretty good judge of character. For instance, I knew you were a crook the second you walked through my door.”
    “That’s because everybody who walks through your door is a crook, including you.”
    “I know you hate me right now, but I still consider myself your lawyer. I am looking out for your best interests. What we are facing is like a trial, with Diego de Boriga as judge, jury, and executioner. You need to let me do the talking for both of us.”
    “You sold me out once before, how do I know you won’t do it again?”
    “You don’t,” Burnside said. “But what other choice do you have?”
    On Nick’s orders, Willie flew them from Dajmaboutu to a secluded bay near Jakarta where Nick had underworld contacts. In return for Griffin’s seaplane, the contacts fabricated replacement fake passports for Nick, Willie, and Kate, complete with Indonesian customs point-of-entry stamps that matched the date of their actual arrival. Nick accessed funds from his Shanghai bank account and bought three first-class tickets on separate flights on different airlines back to the United States.
    Seventy-two hours after the events on Dajmaboutu, a tanned but tired Kate O’Hare met her boss, Carl Jessup, at a McDonald’s off the I-10 freeway in Indio, California, and gave him Derek Griffin’s laptop computer. There were a couple bullet holes in the thick, protective casing, but otherwise it was fine.
    They ordered Big Mac Extra Value Meals, and while they ate, Jessup booted up the computer, punched in the password “Sikandergul,” and used the restaurant’s free wireless access to transfer $500 million from Griffin’s Cayman Islands bank account into the U.S. Treasury’s coffers.
    Kate and Jessup celebrated the successful covert recovery of the stolen money with two large McFlurries.
    Later that same day, Griffin and Burnside were hosed down and given clean clothes. The lawyer didn’t know whether that was a good sign or a very, very bad one.
    Once they were dressed, Char took them at gunpoint to the house for an audience with Diego de Boriga. Boriga was relaxing in the shade on a chaise, sipping a sangria. He was dressed in a Ringspun Kyuzo panther glitter T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and Diesel sneakers. He reeked of Dolce & Gabbana men’s cologne, which prevented the pervasive stench of rot in the air from reaching his nostrils.
    “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the two chairs across from him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see you earlier, Mr. Griffin, but I was engaged in some other business. I trust you have recovered from your long journey in the meantime. I am Diego de Boriga. Does that name mean anything to you?”
    “He didn’t know who you were, or anything about your money, until I informed him of his predicament,” Burnside said.
    “I wasn’t talking to you, was I? If you answer for Mr. Griffin again, Char will slit your throat. Nod if you understand.”
    Burnside nodded.
    Diego shifted his gaze back to Griffin. “Do you know who I am?” he asked Griffin.
    Griffin didn’t want to insult the man’s ego by not knowing who he was, but he also didn’t want to start their conversation by contradicting Burnside and, perhaps, irritating the drug lord.
    “I do now,” Griffin said, “but I didn’t know who you were before I got here or that you’d invested money with me.”
    “Are you familiar with the Central California Farmworkers Children’s Education Fund?”
    He was. They were one of the many nonprofits whose cash he managed, invested, and completely pilfered. He felt the safest reply was just one word:
    “Yes.”
    “That was mine. By that, I mean it was Vibora profits as well as the life savings of every man, woman, and child in the village of Boriga. We gave it to you for safekeeping and growth, but you stole it all.”
    “If I’d known it was yours, I would never have taken it.”
    “That’s your first lie,” Diego said.