by Mike Brogan
“The average cost-per-mile for all six gasoline-powered cars is . . . 14.3 cents. Good mileage.”
“The cost-per-mile for the new electric-powered XCar is . . . 3.3 cents! Yes - 3.3 cents a mile!”
“So if you drive 10,000 miles a year, the XCar could save you around $3,800 in gasoline costs annually.
“By the way - the XCar could have continued driving for two hundred miles more . . . for up to five hundred miles before needing a fifteen-minute battery charge.
“XCar . . . coming soon . . . only at your nearby GV Dealers.”
“Well?” Kevin said, smiling.
Madison smiled back. “It ain’t catchy like ‘Baseball, hotdogs, Apple pie, and Chevrolet’ . . . but I like it!”
TWELVE
“Very persuasive commercials! They grab the viewer! Nice work!” Chase Chensen said to Kevin and Madison.
Chensen wanted them to know he strongly supported the creative approach.
“Thanks, Chase.”
“As soon as the client’s lawyers approve these concept commercials,” Madison said, “Kevin and his team will fly out to California to shoot them.”
“Mohave?”
“Yep. Flat, straight driving. Sun. Clear weather. Near Edwards Air Force Base.”
“How’s your media plan coming, Chase?” Madison asked.
“Almost done. Our ads target anyone who wants to save serious money driving. Families, singles, young drivers, seniors. We’re also targeting techies who have to drive the latest automotive technology. And those who want to cut emissions.” He knew she wanted to target every group.
“All good targets,” Madison said. “What about the fleet car markets?”
“We recommend heavy ad schedules in car fleet magazines and newspapers. Especially government fleets: Federal fleets, state fleets, city fleets. Name a government fleet, or any fleet, that isn’t trying to save vehicle costs. A typical hundred-car fleet could maybe save around four hundred thousand bucks annually.”
Kevin said, “And the big federal fleets could save millions!”
Madison nodded. “Check out rental car companies. Hertz. Avis. Enterprise. And the taxis. Yellow cab. Uber. XCar could mean huge savings for them. Maybe they’ll lower rental rates to consumers.”
Chensen nodded.
Madison said. “And let’s remind people that ninety-three percent of the XCar is manufactured and assembled in the USA.”
“By American workers!” Kevin added.
“Don’t forget - tomorrow morning at eight we review everything before we meet with Pete Naismith in this room.”
Chensen nodded and left. He was glad his boss, Howard Goldberg, was traveling and wouldn’t attend the meeting.
* * *
A minute later, Chase Chensen shut the door to his office, grabbed his burner phone, and called Nester Van Horn.
“What’s up?” Van Horn said.
“The new XCar TV commercials!”
“What about them?”
“They’re damned good! Buyers will storm the dealerships!”
Van Horn paused. “Not after they see front page photos of XCar surges. And XCar crashes on TV. And bloody accidents on YouTube. And read fake news XCar stories.”
Chensen paused and again worried that he’d gotten himself into this. Van Horn had originally promised the accidents would be minor surges, fender bumpers – but Van Horn had just described serious accidents, bloody, deadly accidents maybe.
But Chensen realized he was in too deep now to pull out.
“Is The Engineer ready to start the surges?” Chensen asked.
“Ready and eager,” Van Horn said.
* * *
Van Horn hung up and took out another burner. He speed-dialed the only number it ever called. The Engineer’s phone rang four times and Van Horn worried it wouldn’t be picked up. Van Horn hated leaving voice messages.
“What’s up?” said The Engineer, aka Robert K. Bruner.”
“We need to start our program now.”
“Why now?”
“GV is scheduling their national XCar launch much sooner. In a few weeks rather than four months. So the boss wants to launch now.”
“To scare buyers away from XCars!”
“Exactly.”
“Your phone’s cutting out,” Bruner said.
“I’m driving through some mountains near LA,” Van Horn said. “I need you out here for a meeting tomorrow.”
“Actually, I’m already flying out there tomorrow on business.”
“Can we meet at the usual place? Same time?”
“Okay. Which XCars you want me to target?”
“The two hundred early-release XCars shipped to GV dealerships a few weeks ago. They’re at the dealerships now. Mostly for showroom display and “Win-An-X-Car” Contests. Dealers also sold some to very select customers.”
“So some are being driven on the roads now?”
“Yes. Most will be on the roads within a couple days.”
“How many incidents do you want?” Bruner said.
“Enough to get media attention.”
“Consider it done.”
“When will you start?”
“Watch the news tonight,” Bruner said.
THIRTEEN
MANHATTAN
“Mr. Naismith’s on the way up,” the Turner Advertising lobby guard said over Madison’s speakerphone.
“Thanks, William,” she said.
Madison and Kevin sat in a small conference room adjoining her office. She was eager to see Pete Naismith, who’d flown from Detroit for his first meeting at Turner Advertising. She was also excited to see Pete’s latest sales projections for XCar.
The door opened and Christine Higgins, Madison’s executive assistant, led Pete into the office. Tall and thin, Pete wore a blue blazer, open blue shirt, and beige slacks. The same relaxed style he’d worn in Detroit, Madison noticed.
Naismith smiled at her and Kevin and looked them over for a second. “So I see you modern New York ad guys don’t dress like the old Mad Men guys.”
Madison wore a gray blouse and slacks. Kevin, jeans and blue pullover.
She smiled. “My dad dressed Mad Men style back in the sixties and early seventies. It’s much more relaxed these days.”
Kevin said, “One of my copywriters wore his pajamas to work yesterday. Wrote a brilliant ad.”
Pete laughed and looked around. “And where’s your Mad Men office bar?”
“It appears magically around 6:30 p.m.,” Kevin said.
“Speaking of drinks,” Christine said, walking in. “Anyone want coffee, tea, or water?”
“Coffee black would be great,” Naismith said. “But I’ll bring champagne in a couple of months.”
“Why?” Madison asked.
“Because if our earlier projected XCar sales figures are halfway accurate, we’ll have reason to celebrate. In fact, our latest sales projections might be in my email now. Let’s see.”
He turned on his laptop.
Christine brought him a coffee.
He sipped some, then entered Global Vehicles’ protected Intranet system. Another password opened a document. He studied the rows of numbers, then stopped.
Pete rubbed his palm over his face, making it impossible to read his eyes.
“Well . . . ?” Madison asked, her heart racing.
“Based on dealer orders, we’re projecting even higher XCar sales. Twelve percent higher than four weeks ago. The XCar word is getting out!”
“That’s terrific, Pete!” Madison said.
“And accurate, I hope.”
Madison was delighted for Pete and the CEO, Hank Harrison. Thanks to their courage, they’d risked billions to design and manufacture their revolutionary XCar supercapacitor graphene battery technology. And now they were committing more money to triple their battery production. Another risky business decision . . . especially if XCar didn’t do well for some unforeseen reason.
In the beginning, she r
emembered, several automotive experts had laughed at “XCar’s highly untested, highly experimental battery.”
The experts were not laughing now.
“The commercials look great, Kevin!”
“Thanks. I’m hoping for the Clara Peller effect.”
“Clara Peller?”
“The little old lady in the Wendy’s commercial years ago. The “Where’s the beef?” lady.”
Pete smiled. “Oh yeah, she was terrific!”
“So was her impact on sales. Her Where’s the beef phrase created ten times more advertising bang for the buck. Wendy’s spent around thirty million dollars on her campaign, but research suggests they got the advertising bang of three hundred million dollars! And Wendy’s sales proved it!”
“Please make it happen for our XCar!” Pete said, gazing at heaven.
His phone rang and he answered. His face quickly turned serious, then concerned.
Madison sensed bad news. Business? Personal?
Moments later he hung up.
“That was our security chief. There’s been another accident.”
“With the XCar?”
Pete nodded. “A woman was driving her nine-year-old daughter and three other girls to soccer practice in Farmington Hills, Michigan. According to witnesses, the XCar started surging and slowing and swerving from left to right. Then it swerved into the side of a truck that knocked the XCar off the road. The airbags deployed. Mom’s okay, but two of the girls sustained injuries. A broken finger, bruised shoulder, some cuts on their legs.”
“What’d she say happened?”
“Something took over driving my car.”
FOURTEEN
EAST LOS ANGELES
Nester Van Horn waited in Maria’s Mariachi, a seedy East LA bar near Amalia Avenue for Robert Bruner, The Engineer. Bruner’s Detroit flight landed at LAX nearly two hours ago. He should walk in here any minute. But then he was usually late. Sometimes he didn’t show up.
Van Horn sipped his single malt and checked the big screen television where the Los Angeles Dodgers were pounding the San Francisco Giants 11 to 2 in the fourth.
He looked around the bar. Short Latinos, skinny white guys, mini-skirted hookers, beer-belly construction workers, and a fat taco-eating businessman dripping orange cheese on his blue tie.
People that Van Horn could disappear among.
Even his friends wouldn’t recognize him with his fake beard, aviator sunglasses, NASCAR hat, and faded football jersey.
His burner phone rang. The boss calling from Detroit.
The boss was Kurt Krugere.
He and Van Horn normally communicated on burner phones, or on their joint email draft folder. The two auto executives tried to avoid being seen together too often in Detroit where they’d be recognized.
“Is the Engineer ready?” Krugere asked.
“Yes.”
“He’s targeting the two hundred early-release XCars?”
“Yes.”
“And GV still plans to launch the XCar nationally in four months?” Krugere said.
“No.”
“What?”
“They’re launching early.”
Krugere paused. “How early?”
“In a few weeks.”
Krugere paused. “How do you know this?”
“Chase Chensen heard CEO Hank Harrison tell Madison.”
“Why so early?”
“They need the sales revenue now. Recoup some of the billions they spent on XCar battery R & D and production. They need XCar revenue now!”
“I knew they were hurting!”
“More than we thought.”
“Good. So if we derail the XCar launch, we weaken Global Vehicles big time!”
“We do.”
“Excellent. Are GV’s two hundred early-release XCars already at the dealerships?” Krugere said.
“Yes. Dealers are giving some XCars away in contests. And selling some.”
“So some XCars are out on the road now.”
“Many are.” Van Horn said. “Also a few GV executives are now test-driving other XCars around Michigan and nearby states.”
“So we can target some of them,” Krugere said.
“We can and are.”
“Terrific! What about our partners? Have they made their final contributions?”
“Our petroleum friends wired their final payment to the Belize National Bank last night.”
“And the battery people?”
“Their funds are deposited.”
“What about our friends with too much sand and no alcohol?”
“The Sheik wired the money to our Nevis account two days ago.”
“So we’re set to go.”
“Yes.”
“And The Engineer?” Krugere asked.
“He is too. And I’m meeting him here any minute.”
“Hang on – I’ve got another call.” Krugere put him on hold.
Van Horn thought back to when Krugere first approached him about his XCar scheme a year ago. Krugere argued that his car company, AsiaCars, plus the corporations Van Horn’s consortium represented, could lose everything if electric cars sales grew so fast they turned gas vehicles into the buggy whip collapse of this century. They had to protect the traditional auto industry at all costs. Which meant they had to sell many more gasoline powered vehicles in North America at all costs. Which meant they had to cause the demise of electric cars, especially those with extended ranges.
They were in a war!
And the enemy had just created a very powerful new weapon - the revolutionary five-hundred-mile-range electric XCar from Global Vehicles.
Van Horn had agreed to work with Krugere immediately, since they had common business interests. Van Horn, as a director of SmartEnergies, which included the National Petroleum Consortium, had responsibility for growing sales of petroleum and products with special emphasis on his petroleum industry’s largest market - gasoline-powered vehicles sales.
And thanks to the under-the-table contributions of certain oil producing billionaires and sheiks, Van Horn had millions of dollars to develop the XCar surge program. All while continuing to schmooze, support, and arm-twist congressmen to relax the restrictive emission controls standards, and lower miles-per-gallon mandates.
In addition, Van Horn had millions more to work with because of Krugere’s embezzled funds from AsiaCars. Krugere had a very personal reason to fund the program. As EVP of Sales, he wanted to greatly increase AsiaCars gas-car sales so he could replace its elderly chairman.
Bottom line: anything that hurt AsiaCars gas-car sales - like the electric XCar’s amazing 500-mile range - was a serious threat to his company, and more importantly to Krugere’s career.
And Van Horn knew Krugere quickly eliminated all threats – business and personal.
Van Horn heard Krugere’s phone click back on.
“So when can I expect another XCar . . . incident?” Krugere asked.
“Catch the news tonight.”
They hung up.
Catch the news tonight, Van Horn thought. A phrase that always reminded him of the night he caught bad news . . . the devastating news that the petroleum company executive position promised to him by his CEO was awarded to another man. A man who’d lied to Van Horn saying he had no interest in the job, then blackmailed the CEO with photos of the CEO in bed with a twelve-year-old girl in a Bangkok hotel. The blackmailed CEO gave Van Horn’s promised job to the blackmailer. Van Horn handled the blackmailer later.
But it taught Van Horn an important lesson. When you want something in business, take it. Any way you can. The sooner the better. At all costs. Before the other guy steals it from you.
Like this surge program we developed.
The surge would soon make Van Horn Chairman of the SmartEnergies Consortium.
FIFTEEN
In Maria’s Mariachi, Nester Van Horn sipped another scotch and checked his Rolex. Where the hell was Robert K. Bruner? The guy should have been he
re forty minutes ago.
But then, Bruner was always late. Like many eccentric, brilliant people, he ran on his own clock. A clock with no-hands.
Bruner was considered an automotive engineering genius. He was Executive Director of engineering for AutoSystemics Worldwide, a large manufacturer of sophisticated computer systems, components, parts and modules for the auto industry. ASW supplied many Asian car manufacturers and most US car makers, including Global Vehicles.
Bruner worked mostly in the Detroit headquarters of AutoSystemics Worldwide laboratories, but often flew out to their company’s west-coast manufacturing facilities in Carson, California. Which made it convenient for Bruner to meet him occasionally here in Maria’s Mariachi.
Van Horn knew Bruner’s background. The guy had worked for GM, Ford, and Chrysler, but jumped jobs a lot, mainly because he couldn’t handle supervision, or supervisors couldn’t handle him. He held hundreds of patents for engineering innovations, many in advanced automotive engine control systems and components, ABS systems, collision-avoidance systems, climate environment systems.
Bruner also had far more patents for Global Vehicles than anyone.
And Bruner had one more thing for Global Vehicles. Hate.
Simple reason. Three years ago, his wife and two-year-old daughter were killed in a car accident when her Global Vehicles car swerved over a center line and slammed into an oncoming United Van Lines truck.
“She seems to have lost control,” the cop and witnesses said at the accident. “Maybe she was distracted.” The cop pointed to her phone with a half-composed text message on the driver’s side floor.
“That’s impossible!” Bruner said later, “Abeela never texts while driving. The braking system failed her. They used the lowest bidder’s substandard brake parts and design. I warned them not to. GV’s faulty brakes caused my wife’s and my daughter Bahiya’s deaths.”
The accident investigators found no evidence of brake failure.
Bruner sued GV.
GV’s attorneys presented medical evidence suggesting his wife might have suffered one of her mild epileptic seizures the morning before the car accident. Also, the phone company confirmed she had been texting seconds before the crash. Bruner argued no - that his three-year-old daughter was playing with the letters on the phone.