“You’d just be throwing your money away, guys. I can’t let you do that.”
Raphael turns in his chair to face me and his eyes, narrow and hooded, as if ready to squash an opponent in the ring. “What part of not open for negotiation did you not understand, Chase. If you’re in trouble, we’re in it with you no matter what you say. That’s it. Case closed.”
Sonia hasn’t said a word since I introduced her at the beginning of the meeting but now chimes in. “I’m in. And Chase has many other friends who will want to help besides everyone here at The Fort. But,” she turns to me, “you just said we’d be throwing our money away. Why?”
“Well, first,” I reply, “the exposure is in the billions. Even if you all pool everything you have, it still may not be enough. But, even if it is, none of that matters if the vote doesn’t go our way next Friday. If that part fails, all the rest happens automatically, and the money people take over. There’s simply no way to prevent that.”
Sonia leans forward on her elbows and says, “You underestimate me. I’ll tie them up in court for years. They’re not getting any of it without a fight.”
“You’d lose,” I say. “And in the meantime, the project will be on hold and the lives of thousands of people will be caught up in a heartless struggle between billionaires. Well, one former billionaire against a bunch of trillion-dollar banks. No, it’s gotta be a clean turnover. The project will still go forward with others at the helm.”
“Yeah,” says Raff. “Others who will rape the land and cut the pay and benefits of the employees.”
“Wait,” Sonia says, holding up a hand. “If there is nothing we can do to salvage the project, then everything gets easy. Chase, you need to disappear. I’ll stay here and fight it out for you with the banks. I’ll let the project go forward and do what I can to keep it as close to your original vision as possible. You take whatever you can cram into a shipping container and go to another country and start over.”
Suddenly, the room comes alive. Gordon starts babbling about how he’ll talk to Breanna about selling the house so they can move out of the country. “The girls can homeschool and even learn another language,” he says. “It will be a great experience for them.”
“Guys! It doesn’t matter,” I say but no one hears me over the din of their own excitement.
Ai-Ling’s phone dings. Apart from her no one cares enough to notice but me. Looking at the screen as she rises from her chair, she says, “I’ll need to know when we’re leaving so I can figure out what I’m going to do with my apartment.” She turns and touches the wall opposite me. A door separates itself from the video wall and, after she steps through it, it disappears as it, again, becomes part of the video wall. The talk around the table hasn’t abated.
“Guys! Stop!” I shout.
Gordon, Raphael and Sonia are laughing about something Graham just said in a Yorkshire accent when they turn to look at me.
“I can’t go,” I say. “No one knows this deal like I do. People who need those jobs are counting on there being someone to protect their interests. Even if only as a figurehead, I know enough to still make of a nuisance of myself and give the people on the ground a fighting chance to make a decent paycheck to pay the mortgage and feed their families.”
“Bullshit!” says Gordon. “There are so many layers of shell corporations between you and those people that they don’t have a clue you even exist. You’ll go if I have to thump you on that thick skull of yours, tie you up, stuff you in a gunny sack and carry you to the airport.”
“Yeah,” says Graham, the Yorkshire accent gone, “we can just toss him into the cargo container with everything else.”
I throw my arms up. “It’s not about them knowing of my existence, Gord. It’s about me . . . knowing of theirs. I’m not some psychopath, you know, that lets others bail him out of the mess he’s made. I need you to under—"
When my phone sounds a chime, I break off to see it’s Ai-Ling and answer. “Ling, you need to be here.”
“Put me up on screen, please, sir,” she replies, “I think everyone’s going to want to see this one.”
I punch a button on the phone and lay it on the table. All the smaller screens on the far wall have now become one giant image of Ai-Ling’s face.
“You’re not going to believe who’s here to see us, sir. Check this out.” Turning the phone to her left, I see the woman from the club with a large male security guard on one side of her and a female security guard on the other. The expressions of the security personnel suggest they are more than willing to do something harmful to the intruder.
“Hi, Chase Madison,” the woman says. “I thought I’d stop by for the apology you owe me and to discuss a certain situation you’re soon going to be having in Boise. Got a sec?”
“Hang on,” I say and push a button to pause the video and audio of my side of the conversation. One look at the woman and the urges that overcame me at the club slam into me with a force that drenches me in lust. Combined with the shock of seeing her here at what is supposed to be my secret headquarters leaves me stunned and speechless.
But leave it to Gordon to put an explanation point on the night as it’s developed so far. He turns to me, eyebrows knitted together in frustration, and says, “You just had to go out tonight.”
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