Harry Goldstein wasn’t a bad man. Not really. He just wanted to please people.

“You deserve this Goldstein. Give me what I want, or I’ll take you under like you’re taking your own damn country."

Jake sat down now, taking a wad of documents from his briefcase.

“All you have to do is sign these. And that ‘cargo’ that White Seas shipped to the bastards in Sierra Leone can stay our little secret.”

Goldstein stood now, and placed his hands firmly on the table. If it wasn’t for the beads of sweat fast forming on his brow, anybody might think he was still in control.

“I can’t do this Jake.” He gestured wildly to the window, and the dusky city skyline. “All this? You think I run the show? White Seas was just another mask, another name! I don’t play with the big boys I sign the papers."

“Oh right! Well in that case, your reputation will be just fine when I show CNN the papers you signed off to ship 50 short-range ballistics to one of the world’s most corrupt countries, eh Harry?"

Goldstein reached for his pen.