Ranell knew he should immediately contact his GML security specialists. But he also knew the report would be conveyed to the Lockheed-Martin representatives, police, and probably even the FBI. He also worried about Hétóng’s threat if it was discovered that Ranell had reached out to the authorities. Weighing the possibilities paralyzed his mind. And the result was that he took no action at all.
Ranell’s first indication that something was terribly amiss was when a GML tractor-trailer hauling auto parts meant for the Kantanka automobile factory in Ghana was seized by the government. GML received word that until some outstanding payments were made, the vehicle would be impounded, and the asset diverted to assist with some ongoing military operation.
As a single incident, it was unusual. Ranell was unaware an outstanding payment was due, and he directed his team to investigate. Soon, however, similar reports started coming in from all over the world. GML assets seized by foreign governments and repurposed, typically to support a local armed conflict.
A trickle of reports turned into a flood, and the GML executive staff soon understood that they were the target of a global-scaled coordinated attack that they were powerless to stop.
But Ranell knew how to stop the attacks. Ranell’s hands shook as he dialed the number on the card with the tiny blood stain, but the glass of scotch he’s just downed was not enough to stop the involuntary reflex. “Hello, Mr. Hétóng?” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “It’s me, Josef Ranell, from GML.”
Hétóng Rén already knew who was calling.