Page 75 of The Session

“I always thought that was a great one,” Lightman replied. “It showed resourcefulness. The only problem is nobody cares about $10,000 anymore.”

“You could make it a hundred grand,” Jameson said.

Mark was finding it hard to keep the happy-go-lucky expression on his face as the people around the table casually discussed the idea of him having the smarts to make $10,000—let alone $100,000—in seven days.

Although . . . what would he do if he were forced into that situation? Mark had skimmed an article his father had written on survival thinking: the idea that if you want the best solution to a problem, you have to assume that if you fail, you’ll have the worst outcome. If his life depended on it—or better yet, his mother’s or Holly’s—would he muster the resources to solve the problem?

“Son, do you think you could raise $100,000 in seven days?” Lightman asked.

“Can I borrow it from you?” Mark replied.

“We could send him to Dubai and figure out a way to do it,” Tru suggested.

“And exactly nobody will be impressed,” Jameson said.

Lightman stood up and pointed at the blue sky outside the window.

“I want you to imagine a meteor is hurtling toward the earth right now, and we have to come up with a solution! What is it?” he asked.

The room was quiet for a moment.

“What about Valor?” Connelly asked.

“I don’t think we can engineer that,” Tru responded.

“Actually, we could,” Lightman replied.

“No,” Jameson said flatly.

“Some roles have that built in,” Connelly replied.

“What are you thinking, Ted?” Lightman asked.

“Constellation is active in three different conflict zones right now, and our Kidnap and Rescue teams get probably one activation per week in Latin America. Most of those are just simple cash payouts. We’ve got FARC dissidents and the cartels’ negotiators on speed dial,” Connelly explained to Mark.

Constellation was the private military Summit Strategies owned, Mark recalled. Officially they were used to provide security for overseas companies and military bases. Unofficially, they were rumored to do antiterrorism missions in places where Western forces were unavailable.

“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” Tru snapped. “We’re not sending Mark into a war zone so he can score some fucking points.”

“I’m not saying we should either, but Constellation hasn’t lost anybody in seven months. They take fire all the time, but their helicopters and vehicles are heavily armored. Each operation counts as hazardous—regardless of whether shots are fired. And combat points add up fast,” Connelly concluded.

“Are you forgetting that Mark’s not a soldier?” Tru asked.

“They need medics. There’s actually a shortage,” Connelly said.

“Because jumping in front of bullets is stupid,” Tru said.

“Absolutely not. I forbid it,” Lightman declared.

“I’ll do it,” Mark replied.

The words came out before he could think them through. He wasn’t quite sure why he said it. Maybe it was the fact that the man pretending to be his father said he couldn’t do it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d rather take another chance getting shot at than try to figure out how to make $100,000 in seven days when he’d spent the last several weeks barely able to make rent.

“No, Mark, not this,” Lightman pleaded.

“There are a dozen other ways,” Tru agreed.

“Is Constellation part of Summit Strategies?” Mark asked.