TheCorporation

by Jesus Gonzalez

  Alan shook his head. “That won’t happen. Trust me. I know we planned this sort of last minute, but we did it carefully.”

  Michelle wanted to respond but didn’t know what to say. At this point she’d crossed the point of no return. It didn’t matter any more. What more did she have to live for? Corporate Financial was set to enslave the world; blowing herself up by accident would be a ticket out of the nightmare.

  Alan began handing her more of the explosives and Michelle stacked them in her briefcase. “These things are water-proofed,” Alan said. “Best place for them is in the toilet tanks of as many of the women’s rest rooms as you can get them in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.” Alan held one of the devices in his hand. “The executive suite, the bathroom outside the executive secretary’s office, and the bathroom near conference room 4H on the fourth floor are prime targets. They’ll probably take you into the data center tomorrow. There’s a bathroom right off the data center’s main entrance. Plant two of them in that one. Then there’s going to be a bathroom in the executive lounge in the basement. Hit that one, too.”

  “The basement?”

  “That’s where they’re going to begin your immersion.”

  “How...how will I be able to get out of the immersion?”

  Alan held up an earpiece. “Remember this?” He passed it on to her. “You’ll be in direct contact with Rachel and me all day. The audio wire you wore today goes with it. At three p.m. tomorrow Rachel or myself will send a signal to you that will break through the subliminal messages Corporate Financial will be feeding you during immersion. It’s a signal designed to penetrate not only audio, but psychic messages as well.”

  “Psychic messages?”

  “It will intercept brain waves,” Alan explained. “That’s part of how they’ll turn you. Unlike planting the explosives, this part of our mission has been in the planning stages for a long time. We’ve been working on it for three years and we’ve tested it. Trust me on this. Naturally, you’re going to try to fight the immersion as you lie down in that room, but just in case you succumb we’re going to intercept their influences and awaken you this way. If we don’t hear anything from you, we’re going to jam the signals again. We’re going to keep jamming the signal until you tell us you’re awake and that you’re making your way out of the building. If we don’t hear from you in five minutes, we’re aborting.”

  Michelle tried to read Alan’s face to see if he was telling the truth. He looked like he was. His features were open, honest, and she saw the same ray of hope she saw when she first met him. His was an honest face, one she felt she could trust. Yet for some reason, she didn’t believe him when he said that if they didn’t succeed in tearing her away from Corporate Financial’s grip they would abort. She didn’t believe that for one second.

  If they didn’t hear from her, if she failed to wake up and make a beeline for the doors, they were going to go through with the plan anyway.

  All this passed through her mind in a microsecond. “When I come out of it, then what?” she asked.

  “Leave one of the devices in the room,” Alan said. “It’ll be the last one. Make your way out of the room and head upstairs. The stairway will dump you off near the data center and there will be a side exit. There’ll be a guard station there; don’t worry about that one, they probably won’t notice you leave anyway. If they do and they try to stop you, keep going. I’ll be waiting for you in a green Honda in the executive parking lot.”

  “When will you show up?”

  “Two p.m.” He sighed and rubbed his right hand across his face. He looked tired. “I told Sam that I’m meeting a client in the Bay Area and that I’ll be at headquarters to meet with IT. I’ll be planting devices myself, hopefully in the data center.”

  “So I meet you at the car at, say, ten after three, and we take off and then what?”

  “When we’re a mile away I call Rachel and give her the signal. If it works, we’ll know. We’ll likely hear the blast, probably even see it.”

  Despite the severity of the crime she was about to partake in, Michelle no longer felt a sense of dread or foreboding. She no longer had any pangs of doubt. She had to do this come hell or high water. “And then what?”

  “Then we meet up in San Francisco and one of our associates will put us up in a safe house. I’ll give Jay and Donald the address and phone number later this morning. We’ll meet up there, monitor things over the next day or so, and then we’ll see where we stand.”

  Michelle looked at the briefcase, now almost packed with the explosive devices. She closed the lid and snapped the locks in place, then picked it up. It was heavy, but she’d be able to manage it. “What if we’re caught?”

  “We won’t get caught.”

  “What if we’re caught?”

  “That can’t happen.”

  “You didn’t make a backup plan?”

  Alan grabbed her shoulders and spun her toward him. For the first time his face was livid, hot with anger. “We’re going to win! Do you understand me? We’re going to destroy these bastards and everything they stand for and that includes the...thing they’ve got sleeping in their basement!”

  Michelle felt the blood drain from her face at the sound of Alan’s voice. “What thing?”

  Alan looked at her. “You know what I mean. You know what Rachel and I told you last week in Chicago. About the Marstein’s devil-worshipping.”

  When Rachel and Alan mentioned the occult angle to her yesterday, Michelle hadn’t given it much credit. If the Marstein’s believed it and were able to convince a bunch of other greedy executives that making sacrifices to the dark gods would increase their stock portfolios, that was their business. Michelle thought back to what Alan had told her yesterday about corporations being recognized as actual people. It stood to reason that if people could be possessed by demonic entities then corporations could too. And when the Marstein’s alleged devil-worship was taken into consideration, it all made sense. But if Alan and Rachel believed that there was some truth to the stories, then this was a whole different matter. “You believe the stories are real?”

  “Hell yes!” Alan said, his voice a whisper. “I thought you believed us!”

  “I did,” Michelle said, feeling a flush of embarrassment now that she realized she’d conveyed to them a little too strongly that she’d swallowed everything they’d told her. “But this...devil thing...is just...I mean, I believe that they believe it but—”

  “Make no mistake about it,” Alan said, his tone serious, his gaze penetrating. “This shit is real. Corporate Financial has done something nobody would have ever dreamed of, and the thing Marstein conjured, the thing that makes him and his company rich and fat, exists to be fed and get stronger. It has its hooks in the people who run the company, and you can believe they’re getting something out of it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Money. Power. Prestige.” Alan paused. “Pleasure.”

  Michelle felt herself shiver. “What kind of pleasure?”

  They looked at each other for a moment and despite her rational side telling her that this was bullshit, that this was a product of some mass hallucination, another part of her, the part that she always listened to, was telling her it was real, it was happening and she had to trust her instincts. She had to trust the fact that Donald believed it. If Donald was in the belief camp, it had to be true. She would trust her life to him. He’d never lied to her and never misled her before on anything. He’d never do anything to hurt her.

  “Don’t you want to stop the people who made your mother into the fiend she is?” Alan said. “I know I do; I want to strike back at them for what they did to Susan. They took the love of my life away. They destroyed my future, my hopes and dreams. They’ve done that to a lot of people, and they’re going to do it to a lot more if we don’t stop them.”

  Memories of Alanis popped into her mind; she remembered cradling her dead premature unborn daughter in
the hospital alone, mourning her loss with no one there to comfort her because all her friends, her mother and father, were too busy working to come to her aid.

  She choked back a sob and took a deep breath.

  Do it for Alanis.

  Her mother’s words rose in her mind. Get rid of it before it destroys your chance for a future with the company.

  She faced Alan, her mind made up completely. She was no longer straddling the fence. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “I think I just realized what you meant by that.”

  “Do you?”

  “I don’t need to know what kind of pleasure it takes,” she said. “All I have to do is put myself in the shoes of every sadistic boss and manager I’ve ever worked under that thrived on controlling his or her subordinates.”

  Alan seemed to approve. “You’d think something so simple wouldn’t be in the equation.”

  “Yes,” Michelle said. “But that’s exactly what it is. They...it...gets off on the power it feels dominating others. It’s the common thread schoolyard bullies and control freak workaholic bosses seem to share.”

  “You forgot power-hungry world leaders.”

  “Them, too.”

  “So you’re ready?”

  Michelle faced him, more comfortable now with her decision and what she was going to do tomorrow than she had ever been. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EVERYTHING WENT LIKE clockwork the next morning.

  After a restless sleep broken intermittently by visions of an infant Alanis calling her name as she lay on the floor in an empty office surrounded by humming fax machines and computer monitors that sputtered to life, Michelle woke up and quickly got dressed, applied her make-up, then gathered her laptop, purse, and the explosive-laden briefcase and left her hotel room. She left her suitcase behind, not knowing what else to do with her stuff. Her purse was slung over her shoulder and she hoped to at least be able to escape with it if she could. In fact, she would ditch the laptop if push came to shove. She had pictures of Alanis in her wallet; she’d never part with those.

  Sam Greenberg and Gary Lawrence were waiting for her in the lobby. Sam smiled and nodded. “Good morning! Sleep well?”

  “Like a rock,” Michelle answered.

  “Good!”

  They made small talk on the drive over. Michelle concentrated on slipping into the role. She’d applied the ear piece before she slipped into her business attire and she could hear Alan whispering to her from wherever he was, telling her he was getting last minute things ready from his location. She met Sam’s gaze in the rearview mirror as he addressed her. “Today is going to be a monumental day, Michelle.”

  “It is?”

  “We’re expecting sales to reach seventy percent again today,” Sam continued. “Productivity at our client companies is expected to be sixty percent. By week’s end, we’re planning on eighty percent.”

  “It would be nice to reach one hundred percent,” Michelle said. Her fingers caressed the leather of her briefcase.

  “Our goals exactly!” Sam said. He looked more alive than he’d looked in weeks. If Michelle had just met him for the first time she would think he was a normal human being. “We’re shooting for one hundred percent at the close of Phase Four.”

  “When do you expect to commence with Phase Four?” Michelle asked.

  “We’re shooting for within two weeks,” Gary Lawrence answered. He was sitting in the front seat this time, looking out the windshield ahead of him as Sam drove.

  “Ambitious,” Michelle said.

  “We think so,” Sam said.

  “Will I still get to be involved with Phase Two?”

  “Very much so.” Sam glanced at her again. “I expect you to be ready by week’s end. Thursday at the earliest. How does that sound to you?”

  “Sounds great!”

  “Will you be willing to travel right away?” Sam asked. “With the way things are moving, it will be prudent for you to jump right into your part in Phase Two and hit the ground running.”

  “Absolutely,” Michelle answered. “I can leave from here if I have to.”

  “No need for you to go home?” Sam was watching her subtly as he drove. Michelle could tell this question was a test of her loyalty.

  “Nope,” Michelle said. “I have my business attire with me. I pay my bills online. My paycheck is deposited into my bank account, and I have somebody checking my mail at home. No need to go home right away.”

  Sam smiled. “Good.”

  The morning sun felt good on Michelle’s face as the car angled into the driveway of Corporate Financial Headquarters.

  THE MORNING WAS going incredibly fast.

  Michelle Dowling was in a stall in the women’s bathroom on the fourth floor. She had just placed one of the explosive devices in the toilet tank after waiting five minutes for a woman to leave the rest room. Michelle had sat on the toilet seat motionlessly as the woman did her business and took her leisure time in leaving. The minute the door whisked shut amid clicking heels that receded down the hall, Michelle got up, slung the briefcase up, and quickly got the device in the toilet tank. Then she exited the stall and approached the sink.

  She inspected herself briefly in the mirror. I’m not looking too shabby despite everything I’m going through, she thought. She didn’t look like a terrorist, either. Rather, she fit the bill perfectly for a high-level female corporate executive.

  Satisfied that her physical appearance was top-notch, she left the bathroom and headed back down the hall, briefcase in hand, back to the meeting in 4H.

  It was the second meeting she’d undertaken this morning and things were going well. She’d already planted explosive devices in the bathrooms near the executive dining lounge, the one near Bruce Wellhorn’s office, and the first floor hallway near accounting. Now she’d planted the one in the bathroom by Conference room 4H. She hadn’t seen her mother yet and she didn’t know if she’d get to. It didn’t matter. She was going through with this. She was going to play her part in destroying Corporate Financial Consulting.

  She composed herself by taking a deep breath, then entered conference room 4H, ready to do business.

  ALAN PERKINS WAS sitting in an empty chair near a computer terminal in the data center, briefcase at his feet, wondering how Michelle Dowling was making out.

  It was after twelve p.m. and most of the data center staff were at lunch, which was ironic when he thought about it. Alan had heard through various news sources of some disturbances throughout the country—arrests, spats of violence at the workplace. He had no doubt that workers all over the country were being forced to work through their lunch hour and that those who defied orders were being punished somehow. Of course, Corporate Financial employees, even those who hadn’t yet been immersed, were immune to such treatment since they were the ones orchestrating this massive takeover.

  The IT manager was holed up in his office, his attention riveted to his computer and that’s exactly where Alan wanted him. The IT manager, a burly middle-aged man named Mark Hodges, was a perfect Corporate Financial pawn; dedicated, loyal, attentive, a complete corporate zombie. He was so dedicated to his task, so taken in by Corporate Financial Consulting, that he had no inkling of anything outside of his realm of Information Technology or Corporate Financial business. Therefore, he had no idea Alan was in the data center. Alan had arranged for one of Mark’s employees, Debbie White, to let him in and meet with her regarding the client he was working with. Debbie was not only completely overtaken by Corporate Financial, she was easy to manipulate. After fifteen minutes of discussing strategy and IT protocols, Alan had asked Debbie if she would run upstairs to Computer Analysis and ask Larry to run some reports and Debbie had scampered off, leaving Alan alone in her cubicle.

  And now the rest of the IT staff, except for Mark Hodges, had gone to lunch.

  Alan stood up slowly, listening for any sound of activity within the data center. Mark’s office was actually outside th
e data center, in a cubicle within a room of three other cubicles. There was a window along the wall of his cube that looked out into the data center so he could oversee things. Alan had taken a quick peek inside at Mark and noticed that the IT manager’s attention was wholly directed toward his computer screen, like he was mesmerized. Alan knew that look well; Mark would be absorbed for hours.

  Alan opened his briefcase and quickly took out two of the explosive devices. He peeked around the corner of Debbie’s cubicle quickly. The network servers lined ten rows along the inner wall. The entire room was standard-issue data center: white walls and floor, raised flooring where the servers were, climate controlled room. Alan darted over to the server rack furthest away and knelt down. Thick cabling littered the floor of the rack to snake down beneath the raised flooring and he pushed one of the devices inside, beneath the lowest positioned server. He pushed it as far back as it would go so it would remain undetected, then quickly darted over to another server rack five rows down and did the same thing. This was a little more tricky since the window to Mark’s office was visible. Alan could see Mark’s back, his attention riveted to the computer as he worked. One false move and Mark could see what he was doing and come inside the data center. Alan quickly shoved the device underneath the cabling along the floor of the rack, then stood up quickly and took a few steps back. Neither device was visible at this level. They would remain undetected.

  Alan turned his attention to his briefcase. He had four devices left. He’d planted one in each toilet tank in the men’s room beside the data center, Customer Service, and General Accounting. He’d also planted one underneath Richard Long’s desk when he met with the Account Executive this afternoon. Richard hadn’t noticed, either. Alan simply opened his briefcase on his lap as he sat down and then, the briefcase’s contents facing him, he’d slipped one of the devices out and casually slipped it beneath Richard’s desk as Rich rattled on about the company’s performance and numbers.