Fordham University who went to Harvard Business School and made it big in private equity, founding his own firm, Veritas Capital. But while he wasnât a creature of Washington, McKeon was smart enough to realize that the war on terror was throwing off cash in a big way. There had to be a play in that. And so Veritas, which had started investing in defense contractors in the 1990s, went after Dyncorp International.
Dyncorp was not a sexy buy, but it had a steady flow of revenue from large government contracts for police training in Afghanistan and other mundane tasks. One of Dyncorpâs biggest assets was that it wasnât named Blackwater, and so it stood to benefit when Blackwater became radioactive in Washington.
To be sure, Dyncorp had its share of controversies, and in fact had been in trouble long before Blackwater landed in headlines about contractor scandals. When Dyncorp worked on a State Department contract to handle police training in Bosnia in the late 1990s, its personnel were accused of involvement in sex traffickingâa scandal so rich that it later formed the basis for a movie starring Rachel Weisz. Yet despite its track record, Dyncorp was given contracts to provide police training in Afghanistan and Iraq. In Afghanistan, Dyncorp was caught up in another scandal when its contractors reportedly paid for young âdancing boysâ to entertain Afghan policemen, an incident that was described in a State Department cable released by WikiLeaks.
But fortunately for Dyncorp, these allegations of misdeeds by its personnel were overshadowed by Blackwater. After Blackwaterâs guards were involved in a 2007 shooting incident in Baghdadâs Nisour Square in which at least seventeen Iraqi civilians were killed, pressure mounted in Washington for the government to dump Blackwater and give its business to other firms. Dyncorp was there to pick up the pieces.
Â
McKeonâs private equity firm, Veritas Capital, acquired Dyncorp in a leveraged buyout in 2005.
Forbes
magazine, which provided excellent coverage of McKeon and Dyncorp, later called it âthe most lucrative deal of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.â (But precisely because Dyncorp was such a sweet deal, it led to a split between McKeon and one of his closest business partners and friends, who accused McKeon of squeezing the partner out in order to keep more for himself, leading to acrimony and lawsuits.)
McKeon was able to ride the surge in spending by the State Department and Pentagon in Iraq and Afghanistan, and then adroitly sold the firm for a huge profit just as the American involvement in Iraq was winding down in 2010. When McKeon sold out to another Wall Street player, Stephen Feinberg of Cerberus Capital,
Forbes
once again lauded McKeonâs move, saying that, âfor all the talk about Blackwater and Houston oil industry firms connected to Dick Cheney, it took a Wall Street player to truly figure out how to play the war game.â
Forbes
estimated that McKeon reaped a windfall, turning his own $48 million initial investment into as much as $320 million.
Sadly, for whatever reason, it wasnât enough for McKeon. In 2012, just two years after scoring one of the biggest paydays of the war on terror, McKeon committed suicide at his multimillion-dollar Connecticut home. No explanation has ever been made public. In 2013, McKeonâs estate began selling off his holdings, offering a glimpse into the glittered world of the oligarchs of the war on terror. McKeonâs estate sold two homes in Darien, Connecticut, with a combined price tag of more than $13 million; listed a Fifth Avenue co-op apartment in Manhattan for $11.5 million; and sold a 10,000-square-foot beachfront home in the Hamptons for $60 million.
Â
More than a decade after 9/11, the war imperative, the war economy, and the war lobby all remain powerful in Washington. The transfer of power from one political party to another seems to have had
Dyncorp was not a sexy buy, but it had a steady flow of revenue from large government contracts for police training in Afghanistan and other mundane tasks. One of Dyncorpâs biggest assets was that it wasnât named Blackwater, and so it stood to benefit when Blackwater became radioactive in Washington.
To be sure, Dyncorp had its share of controversies, and in fact had been in trouble long before Blackwater landed in headlines about contractor scandals. When Dyncorp worked on a State Department contract to handle police training in Bosnia in the late 1990s, its personnel were accused of involvement in sex traffickingâa scandal so rich that it later formed the basis for a movie starring Rachel Weisz. Yet despite its track record, Dyncorp was given contracts to provide police training in Afghanistan and Iraq. In Afghanistan, Dyncorp was caught up in another scandal when its contractors reportedly paid for young âdancing boysâ to entertain Afghan policemen, an incident that was described in a State Department cable released by WikiLeaks.
But fortunately for Dyncorp, these allegations of misdeeds by its personnel were overshadowed by Blackwater. After Blackwaterâs guards were involved in a 2007 shooting incident in Baghdadâs Nisour Square in which at least seventeen Iraqi civilians were killed, pressure mounted in Washington for the government to dump Blackwater and give its business to other firms. Dyncorp was there to pick up the pieces.
Â
McKeonâs private equity firm, Veritas Capital, acquired Dyncorp in a leveraged buyout in 2005.
Forbes
magazine, which provided excellent coverage of McKeon and Dyncorp, later called it âthe most lucrative deal of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.â (But precisely because Dyncorp was such a sweet deal, it led to a split between McKeon and one of his closest business partners and friends, who accused McKeon of squeezing the partner out in order to keep more for himself, leading to acrimony and lawsuits.)
McKeon was able to ride the surge in spending by the State Department and Pentagon in Iraq and Afghanistan, and then adroitly sold the firm for a huge profit just as the American involvement in Iraq was winding down in 2010. When McKeon sold out to another Wall Street player, Stephen Feinberg of Cerberus Capital,
Forbes
once again lauded McKeonâs move, saying that, âfor all the talk about Blackwater and Houston oil industry firms connected to Dick Cheney, it took a Wall Street player to truly figure out how to play the war game.â
Forbes
estimated that McKeon reaped a windfall, turning his own $48 million initial investment into as much as $320 million.
Sadly, for whatever reason, it wasnât enough for McKeon. In 2012, just two years after scoring one of the biggest paydays of the war on terror, McKeon committed suicide at his multimillion-dollar Connecticut home. No explanation has ever been made public. In 2013, McKeonâs estate began selling off his holdings, offering a glimpse into the glittered world of the oligarchs of the war on terror. McKeonâs estate sold two homes in Darien, Connecticut, with a combined price tag of more than $13 million; listed a Fifth Avenue co-op apartment in Manhattan for $11.5 million; and sold a 10,000-square-foot beachfront home in the Hamptons for $60 million.
Â
More than a decade after 9/11, the war imperative, the war economy, and the war lobby all remain powerful in Washington. The transfer of power from one political party to another seems to have had
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