He was staring at a man whose head was shaved down to the scalp. He looked fit and strong and his facial features were sharp and angular, like an image on a high-def LCD screen with megahertz levels. Even from the photo the eyes seemed to house a current of electricity that looked capable of shooting straight out at Shaw, delivering a mortal wound. The man’s long nose appeared as though it started mid-forehead and ran arrow straight to the top of his mouth. It was a cruel mouth if there ever was such a thing, thought Shaw. And this man was no doubt cruel and evil and dangerous. If he weren’t all of those things, Shaw wouldn’t be looking at his photo. He never went after saints, only violent sinners.

“Looks good for his age,” said Shaw, dropping the photo onto the small table.

“For the last two decades at least he’s been into anything that makes lots of money. On the surface he’s golden. Legit businesses, keeps a low profile, gives to charities, is into helping third world countries build infrastructure.”

“But?”

“But we’ve discovered that his underlying wealth is built on human trafficking, mostly young Asian and African teens mass-kidnapped by Waller’s people and then sold into prostitution in the Western Hemisphere. That’s why he’s so into third world development. It’s his pipeline. He uses that as a way to get the product he needs. And his legit businesses launder the cash from those activities.”

“Okay, that qualifies him for a well-deserved visit from me.”

Frank stood and poured himself a Bloody Mary from the small bar set up against one wall of the aircraft and dropped a celery stalk in the glass. He sat back down, jiggling the ice with a long spoon. “Waller hid the details well. It took us time to get the goods on him, and even then it may not hold up in a court of law. The guy’s bad, no doubt about it, but proving it is another thing.”

“So why are we even bothering to go after him if we can’t put him away? That’ll just warn him off.”