Page 8 of The Debt

“Look what happened to HSBC. It had to exit the U.S. mass market retail banking. Its Swiss private banking arm was discovered to have colluded in money laundering schemes. And that was just for starters. It had to sell off its Canadian banking operations to the Royal Bank of Canada. Its CEO had to step down. Basically, its global branches were dismembered.” He flashed a Cheshire grin. “I suggest you think very carefully about what I’ve said and make the wise decision.”

This was the first move in a carefully orchestrated game. Jarek knew that cutting off Polov’s biggest money laundering channel would force him to seek alternatives, which would make him vulnerable. More importantly, it would send a message. The Dark One wasn’t just another gang leader fighting for territory—he was systematically dismantling Polov’s operation, piece by piece.

“Your bank’s reputation for handling complex international transactions and its sophisticated software systems make it a very attractive investment for me,” Jarek continued. “Let me be clear. These are my terms for doing business. I will double the profit margin that you’re getting from Polov’s business. That alone would greatly enhance your capital reserves and increase the value of your stock, with the added effect of making your stockholders very happy. It’s a very lucrative opportunity I’m offering. A one-time offer only.”

Simmons wiped his brow with his sleeve. His mind was clearly racing through the implications. “The Polovskaya Bratva... they’re not known for accepting rejection gracefully.”

“Neither am I. The difference is I’m here, in Boston. They’re not. Think about that, Mr. Simmons. Think about who can better ensure your continued... well-being.”

Jarek studied the banker through the darkness, noting how Simmons’ fingers drummed nervously on the armrest of his chair. It was time to play the Ace card.

“The Bratva’s power lies in fear and intimidation, Mr. Simmons. Tell me, in the past five years, how many of Polov’s enemies in Boston have met with unfortunate accidents?” Jarek’s voice carried a hint of amusement at Simmons’ expression. “I’ll tell you. None. Because his reach doesn’t extend this far—not anymore. The FBI’s Criminal Investigative Division task force has him cornered in Atlanta and Florida.”

Simmons shifted in his chair. “But his reputation—”

“Is built on past glory,” Jarek cut in. “My organization, on the other hand, controls every dock from South Boston to Gloucester. We have connections in the police department, city hall, and, more importantly, in every neighborhood where your employees and their families live. We don’t need to threaten—we protect what’s ours.”

“The Irish way,” Simmons muttered.

“Precisely. When you’re under our umbrella, Mr. Simmons, you become family. And family looks after its own.” Jarek leaned forward, his voice taking on a harder edge. “But cross family, and well... let’s just say the Russians aren’t the only ones who know how to hold a grudge.”

“You mentioned doubling Polov’s volume?”

“Eventually. With potential for more as our operations expand to other States. We’ll also provide a security detail for you and your family during the transition period. Any retaliation from the Bratva will be dealt with swiftly and definitively.”

“And my board members?”

“Will never know about the change in management. The same systems, the same procedures, just different names on the accounts. We’re not looking to disrupt your legitimate operations—they’re vital to maintaining the façade.”

Simmons was quiet for a moment, considering. “When would this transition need to take place?”

“Begin the process immediately. You have a week to come up with a viable reason to sever ties with Polov. In the meantime, my people will meet with you and provide new routing information for our accounts.”

“What do I tell him? He’s not going to roll over and accept being cut off abruptly. It’s dangerous, I tell you.”

“You’re the financial expert, Mr. Simmons. Tell him exactly what I suggested you do. Surely, you have the wherewithal to concoct a phony letter from the Treasury Department citing its intent to conduct a lengthy audit? Share a copy of it with him. It’s plausible, given the current climate.”

“That could work, if only to pacify him for the time being.”

“The time being is all I need to get a foot in the door.”

Simmons frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“You don’t need to. Just do what I told you. I have quite a lot of laundry to wash.”

“It’s just… one week is short. I’m going to need more time.”

A cold chuckle emanated from the darkness. “Mr. Simmons, I selected one week very deliberately. You see, I know that Polov’s next major transfer is scheduled for ten days from now.” Jarek watched as the banker’s composure slipped further as his face betrayed the shock at this intimate knowledge. “A substantial sum... approximately seventeen million, if I’m not mistaken?”

Simmons swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “How did you—”

“The same way I know that you’ve been skimming an extra quarter percent from each of Polov’s transactions. A dangerous game, considering his reputation for accuracy in his books.” Jarek allowed the implied threat to hang in the air for a moment. “One week gives you enough time to reject his transfer while maintaining plausible deniability. Any longer, and he might start asking questions you don’t want to answer.”

“You don’t understand.” Simmons ran a sweaty palm through his hair. “There are protocols, procedures—”

“Which your compliance officer, Sarah Rodriguez, can expedite when properly motivated.” Jarek’s intimate knowledge of the bank’s internal operations clearly rattled Simmons further. “I believe her son just started at Boston College? Pre-med, very expensive. It would be a shame if he had to drop out due to... financial difficulties.”

“Are you trying to blackmail—”

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