“I know who you are, I know what you do, and I know who you do it for. If you cooperate, it remains our secret. If you don’t, the local press will run a story that U.S. authorities have had great success working with a local banker in a yearlong investigation into money laundering for the warlords of Somalia.”

Jake held up his cell phone and took a picture of the man’s face.

“They’ll even run a picture of you,” Jake said. “You have five seconds to decide.”

Zakaria climbed into the SUV, clearly displeased with the turn of events since he’d finished at the bank.

Jake pulled into traffic.

“Who are you?” Zakaria asked.

“Explain the money trail,” Jake said. It was the thing he cared about least, but he was trying to bluff the banker into thinking that he knew everything else—as if they were simply two men chatting about a topic of mutual interest.

Zakaria exhaled deeply. “I get a wire transfer after the cargo is sold—usually from Mauritius or the Isle of Man. I split it up and layer it through a series of accounts and intermediaries in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland until it’s integrated into the financial system. It usually takes a few months.”

“Then what does he do with it?”

“Some he keeps locally in gold and precious stones, but once it’s laundered, the bulk of it stays offshore in foreign currencies, mostly dollars and euros.”

“He’s a careful man.”

“And dangerous,” said the banker. “There is no one is Somalia more feared than Yaxaas.”

Yaxaas, Jake thought. He’d found what he was looking for. “Tell me about the takedowns.”

“I don’t know the specifics.” The banker looked over his shoulder again as Jake turned down an empty side street.

“Then tell me what you know.”

Zakaria scowled. There was no winning in his current situation—only degrees of losing—but it was a situation of his own making. Partnering with the pirates had always been fraught with risk—but mainly from the pirates. Ironically, their success was the source of this new trouble.

“There’s a mothership,” he said. The banker fidgeted as he explained what he knew about intercepting and taking control of the tankers.

Jake asked more questions about the fate of the crews, how and where the oil was sold, and where the ships went when they were empty. Jake kept pressing and the banker knew more than he’d let on. The two men spent another half hour discussing specifics until Jake stopped the car a block from the bank and motioned for Zakaria to get out.

“We’re done for now,” Jake said.

The banker looked as if he were turning something over in his mind as he stepped out of the SUV.