Shiver on the Sky

by David Haywood Young

Chapter Eighteen

  (Tuesday Afternoon—Viktor)

  Viktor Bentley detested business meetings. If he attended a meeting, it was to assess his opponents, or sometimes to deliver the coup de grace to an interesting adversary. In his normal mode of operation, he did not schedule meetings. He simply gave orders, and expected them to be carried out. It was, he felt, an excellent system, and far more efficient than the modern fashion of coddling and stroking one’s employees.

  On this occasion, however, he had felt it necessary to agree when young Daniel Sheffield had called to suggest that Viktor meet with him and become acquainted with, as he had put it, “certain features of the new situation at CyberLook.”

  Those features, Viktor trusted, would include a way to safeguard his investment in spite of Junior’s death. Otherwise, Sheffield would find himself in a very difficult position. It was not as if they had no ties outside a software company. Viktor could make the remainder of young Mr. Sheffield’s life quite miserable indeed.

  Sheffield had wanted to hold the meeting in the CyberLook offices that afternoon. Viktor had resisted, preferring to retain a home-court advantage. Young Sheffield had eventually capitulated, agreeing to come to Viktor’s house at one o’clock. He had said he would bring one or two others with him.

  Sheffield and the two men who had arrived with him had now been kept waiting for approximately ten minutes, which Viktor judged to be about right. He looked up from the contracts he was studying and nodded to Atkins, who was leaning against the wall. Atkins left, coming back in a few moments with Viktor’s visitors.

  Viktor rose to greet them. His office had been arranged with only two chairs facing his desk, which was where Viktor intended to sit. The third man would have to get a chair from against the wall, several feet away, and sit behind the others. Viktor wanted to learn something about the dynamics of this trio before they began.

  Sheffield introduced the other two as Jameson and Reinhardt. Jameson was a spare, white-haired fellow who looked fresh off the boat from Ireland in spite of his well-tailored suit. Reinhardt was younger, perhaps forty, with black hair Viktor suspected was a product of modern chemistry, and possessed of the lightest gray eyes Viktor could remember seeing. They both seemed comfortable in their formal clothing—a bit out of place in Corpus, but not necessarily in Viktor’s house.

  Neither showed any reaction when Viktor remained behind his desk to shake hands. He stood straight and forced them to lean forward in what he chose to consider a respectful bow in order to complete the ritual.

  Viktor sat down immediately after the handshakes, smiled thinly at them and suggested they have a seat. He was pleased to see that Sheffield sat immediately, without looking at the other two. So the boy wasn’t intimidated by these strangers. Good. Perhaps Viktor would allow him to keep his job after all. Assuming this meeting actually proved productive.

  Reinhardt sat as well, and Jameson went to get the chair from against the wall in spite of the age difference. Interesting. Viktor smiled at them all impartially. “Well, gentlemen. Welcome to my home. How may I help you?”

  Reinhardt reached into a jacket pocket. Atkins, who had come in behind them and been slouching against the wall as usual, leaned forward. His hand twitched beneath his own jacket. Viktor let his eyes drift over Atkins, then shook his head very slightly. Atkins leaned back slowly, remaining alert. Jameson’s lips twitched, Viktor noted, though he couldn’t have actually seen Atkins from his position.

  Apparently oblivious, Reinhardt drew out a wallet and laid it open on the desk. He pushed it toward Viktor, who ignored it. “First of all, Mr. Bentley, could we clear the room?”

  “Certainly,” Viktor agreed blandly, nodding to Atkins. As Atkins left the room, Viktor tapped a switch with his foot that would both record their conversation and allow Atkins, who would go to the next room, to observe via a hidden camera.

  When the door closed, Reinhardt nodded. “Thank you. As you see, Mr. Bentley, we’re with the National Security Agency.” He still showed no expression.

  “Oh? And what is that?” Viktor saw no reason to admit he knew about it. Apparent ignorance might make these people underestimate him. Also, it might make projecting a slight contempt more believable, and their reactions might be informative.

  Reinhardt looked a trifle smug. “Lots of people have never heard of us. We’re bigger than the CIA and the FBI put together, though less well-advertised. And we’re pretty much what the name sounds like. We are largely concerned with protecting critical U.S. information and assets, and learning what we can about what’s happening outside the country.”

  Viktor nodded. The man was a pompous ass. He sounded like a brochure. “Does Mr. Jameson also have identification?”

  Jameson leaned forward to display his wallet. Viktor nodded without looking at it. What had his son, whom he had never before had cause to consider an idiot, gotten him into? Or was this young Sheffield’s idea? “Very well. Again, how may I help you?”

  Sheffield spoke up. “We have a product under development at CyberLook, Mr. Bentley, in which these gentlemen have expressed an interest. A strong interest.”

  “Oh? What product is this?”

  Sheffield shook his head. “That’s part of why we’re here. I can’t tell you that.”

  Viktor nodded. “You are here,” he said, “for the purpose of not telling me something. Without delving into the obvious inefficiency involved, may I remind you that I am the majority stockholder?” He shook his head slowly. “I believe it may be time for me to take a more active role in the company. As you have accomplished your stated purpose, perhaps our immediate business here is concluded?” He rose from his chair.

  “One moment, please,” Reinhardt said. Jameson smiled blandly behind him. “Mr. Bentley, we are currently backing CyberLook based on some prototypes we’ve seen, using discretionary funds. Until the last few years we would have had to put a project like this out for bid, requesting proposals from qualified contractors. But recent legislation and Executive Orders have freed us somewhat. CyberLook has something under development that could be extremely important to national security. If the next demonstration goes as planned, I expect to get approval to award a rather large contract.”

  Sheffield nodded, looking less nervous than Viktor would have expected. “Some of the money would be used to restructure the company, Mr. Bentley, to bring us in line with federal contractor guidelines and requirements. It would be quite a shakeup, but the core of our development team, which is what is giving us this chance, would remain unchanged.” He smiled briefly. “We would hire a number of new personnel.”

  “At that point,” Reinhardt said, “things would become a great deal more formal. Security clearances for all personnel would be required. Mr. Sheffield has suggested that you may,” he hesitated, “prefer not to be investigated. As a matter of personal privacy. We may be able to arrange that, with the understanding that you agree to remain unaware of the specifics of the project, and uninvolved in the company’s day-to-day operations.”

  Viktor steepled his fingers. So young Sheffield thought he had found a way to get control of the company. Viktor had been expecting something of the sort, though not so soon.

  He was quite sure he could arrange to find out what they were working on, but it did no harm to go along with the fiction that he would remain ignorant. He wondered how much of this had been Junior’s doing, and a dull pain throbbed in his left wrist. His son should be sitting in Sheffield’s chair.

  At any rate, if the whelp could be made to understand who was really in charge, this might work. Provided the bother would be worth his while.

  “I’m curious, Mr. Reinhardt,” he said, “about exactly how much money we are discussing, and at what point we might actually receive this contract.”

  Reinhardt nodded. “At present we are merely helping to defray expenses associated with producing a prototype, using discretionary funds as I said before. We have a great deal of support from well-placed sou
rces, however, or we would not have been able to access the funds we have used thus far. I believe Mr. Sheffield has the data you are requesting, and would like to go over the books with you in private.”

  Viktor smiled thinly, rising to his feet again. He could still feel his pulse in his wrist, but the pain was subsiding. “Very well, gentlemen. I will certainly take all this under advisement. I trust Mr. Sheffield will be able to contact you and let you know my decision?”

  “Yes, of course,” Sheffield said.

  Reinhardt and Jameson rose from their chairs. Viktor nodded to them. “Atkins will show you out, I’m sure.”

  On cue, Atkins opened the door behind them. They exchanged expressionless glances and left, though Viktor thought he might have detected a hint of humor in Jameson’s eye just before he looked at Reinhardt.

  It might be worth looking into Jameson’s motivations, if a method presented itself. Viktor suspected Reinhardt was someone’s pawn, and he preferred to deal with principals.

  Viktor cleared his calendar. He and Sheffield stayed in the office for the remainder of the day and well into the evening.

  It appeared that the company truly had no appealing prospects apart from the NSA, if Sheffield was being truthful. Why had Junior allowed that state of affairs to come about? It wasn’t like him.

  At one point Viktor remembered he had asked Tremaine to look into what might be happening at CyberLook. He was no longer certain that was a good idea. Could Sheffield be prevailed upon to hire Tremaine, thus defusing the situation and giving Viktor an eye into the company’s activities?

  No. Viktor gave up the idea. Tremaine would be insufficiently tractable to function efficiently as Viktor’s agent. And he would almost certainly challenge Sheffield’s leadership, which could lead to unwanted complications.

  Viktor sighed. Tremaine was unlikely to pursue his inquiry in such a way as to avoid the NSA’s notice. Under the circumstances, that might be fatal…to CyberLook. Which was not acceptable. And at this point, attempting to call Tremaine off would probably merely increase his curiosity. Somewhat regretfully, Viktor gave Atkins new instructions while Sheffield was out of the room for a moment.

  He returned his attention to Sheffield’s scheme. The figures involved were substantial. There was a distressing shortage of options, and Viktor strongly preferred to have backup plans well fleshed-out, but this did at least appear to have the potential to be quite satisfyingly profitable. He supposed he was not yet too old to take a chance.

  Especially when he had no other choice. Viktor wouldn’t walk away from an investment this large. Not without a compelling reason.

  ***