Al laughed. “Yeah, we do. But this sounds too good to pass up. Let’s you and me kick this around a bit. We got ten days to get back to the Chinaman.”
Chapter 55
Wally and I left frozen Toronto at the close of the mining conference. We’d met with hundreds of potential and current investors. The presentations had gone well, and our share price was steady in the upper five-dollar range, well above Lei Chang’s proposed tender price.
All in all, a hell of a good trip, but we’d both be glad to get home. I’d asked Tina to check on my Airstream to be sure it didn’t freeze solid in my absence. I was looking forward to thawing out my bed with a little help from her.
We landed in Spokane, and Wally caught a flight to Vancouver. I located my trusty Bronco in the long-term parking lot, and, thankfully, she fired right up. In a couple hours I was back in my office.
I called Tina and arranged to have dinner with her. Then I checked my snail mail delivered while I was in Toronto. I was just about to shut down and head to my trailer for a shower and a change of clothes, when my cell started vibrating.
“Montana Creek Mining. Trace Brandon, speaking.”
“Mr. Brandon, this is Al Pantelli calling from New Orleans. My family owns a considerable number of shares in your company. I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if you have the time. And may I call you, Trace, Mr. Brandon?”
“By all means, Al,” I replied, using his first name. Fair’s fair.
“Okay, Trace, here’s the situation. We’ve been approached by a group that would like to buy our shares, and at a significant premium to the current share price.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, well, it could be good for the both of us. See, this group would like to buy your shares as well. Matter of fact, they won’t buy our shares unless you sell them your shares. It’s a very good price, Trace. You’ll make a hell of a pile of money.”
“Trouble is, Al, I don’t have any interest in selling my shares to Lei Chang’s company.”
“Touché, Trace. I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, well, Chang pitched me a similar deal in Toronto, but our share price blew through his tender offer. I turned down his offer, and I think I offended him. Fried his wontons, I believe is the term one of my directors used.”
Al laughed. “Is there any room to negotiate on this? Can we work something out where both you and me, and of course the other shareholders, make a shit pot full of dough?”
“Look, Al, my advice is hang on to your shares. Our share price is headed north, right along with the price of uranium. The company has a lot of very positive developments pending. Hell, Al, there’s no guarantee the US government would let a Chinese company take control of domestic uranium reserves. And, I think it would be fair to say there could be other, more suitable, suitors.”
Al paused and absorbed what Trace was telling him. “You make a number of very good points, Trace. Listen, do you like Vegas? My brother, Pino, and I go to the Comstock Casino in Vegas from time to time. How about we meet in Vegas and get to know each other better. After all, we’re a large shareholder in Montana Creek Mining. We’ll get the casino to comp your trip, RFB. You can bring your wife, girlfriend, whoever. Whadda you say?”
“What’s RFB?”
Al laughed. “Room, food, and beverages, and I’ll even introduce you to some very nice show-girls.”
“Tell you what, Al. I need a few days to get caught up and to check on the drilling. Once I’m caught up, I’d be glad to meet with you. I’ll bring a whoever with me by the name of Cyrus McSweeny. He’s also a big shareholder and an advisor to the company. I believe you may already know Mr. McSweeny?”
Al paused for a second. “Sure, Trace . . . Hell, Cyrus and I go way back,” Al said with a snort. “Bring him along. I’ll have the concierge at the Comstock get in contact with you, and you can give him your arrival info.”
“I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Pantelli.”
I hung up and immediately called Cyrus.
“Cyrus, you’re not going to believe who just called me.”
“The CIA?”
I laughed. “The CIA?”
“Yeah, well, last time you asked me that question, it was the FBI. I just moved up a notch.”
“Uh-huh,” I said with a chuckle. “No, this time it’s the other end of the spectrum. Try Al Pantelli.”
“What in the hell did he want?”
“He wants to meet with me in Vegas in a couple of days. Seems Lei Chang contacted him about acquiring their Montana Creek Mining shares. And from what Al told me, Chang’s offer was contingent on me selling Chang my shares, at the same price.”
“What price?”
“All he’d say was Chang told him it would be at a significant premium to the current share price.”
“Hells bells. Maybe you should go down and hear what they have to say.”
“My thoughts, exactly, Cyrus. We’ll leave as soon as I get caught up on the drilling.”
“We?”
“You got it, compadre. Al said I could bring whoever, so I told him I would bring you.”
“How did he react?”
“It took him by surprise, but it didn’t take him long to recover.”
“I’ll bet. Don’t forget, I hold Al’s voting proxy for three years. I wonder if Chang would be so hot for their shares, if he knew that.”
“Good question. Let’s just keep that between us and the Pantellis for now. We may want to play that card later.”
“Okay, but just keep one thing in mind, Trace,” Cyrus said, his tone now very serious. “We’re moving into the big leagues with these fellows. Both Rosenburg and Trueblood had face-to- face sit-downs with the Pantellis, and they’re both dead.”
“Should be an interesting meeting,” I replied, and hung up.
The next day, I threw some clothes and gear in the Bronco and headed up to the Sullivan Mine to get an update from Fish.
I checked into the W hotel in Winthrop and drove up to the mine. When I pulled up to the rig, Red waved and pointed in the direction of the core shack. I nodded and waved back.
I walked over to the core shack, my knees just about recovered from last night’s après-dinner romp in the sack with Tina, and opened the door.
“Hey, Fish. How’s it going?”
“Hi, Trace. Good to see you. How was Toronto?”
“Almost as cold as here,” I said, noting I could see my breath, even in the core shack, “but a damn good conference. We visited with lots of shareholders and tons of potential investors. Even the Chinese came by.”
Fish wrinkled his brow. “The Chinese, huh? The same Chinese Jim said were buying Montana Creek Mining shares?”
“One and the same.”
I explained Chang’s tender-offer proposal and my subsequent rejection.
“How’d he take it?”
“Not too damn good. He’s contacted a couple of our more nefarious shareholders about buying their shares.”
“Sounds like you could be lining up to be between the proverbial rock and a hard spot.”
“Could be. I wanted to check in with you and get up to speed, then Cyrus and I are heading to Vegas to meet up with a couple of our more nefarious shareholders.”
Fish laughed. “Okay. Well, on this end, the drilling is going good, and we’re coring great-looking ore. One thing, though. By spring were going to be drilling on our northwest-most claims. If we’re still in ore, we should think about staking some additional claims.”
“I thought about doing just that, Fish. I had our mineral surveyor run the claim files at the Bureau of Land Management and at the Okanogan courthouse.”
“What’d he find out?”
“Seems every Tom, Dick, and Harry with enough money to stake and file a claim has tied up all of the open ground on trend with our vein. If we’re still in ore when we get to the boundary of our claims, we’ll have to make a deal with some of those claim owners.”
“Agree
d, but, honestly, I’d be surprised if these grades continue beyond our claim block. It’s already a world-class deposit; it won’t go on forever. Plus, we’ve still got a fair number of claims to the southeast of Montana Creek to drill.”
“My thoughts exactly. If a little ore does run over on to mom and pop’s claims, good for them.”
I spent the next day with Fish and Red going over the upcoming drill locations and looking at cores. As usual, the fellows had everything under control. I told Fish I’d be heading back to Ellensburg early the next morning.
“Good luck in Vegas, and watch yourself. A lot of folks involved with this company seem to get knocked off.”
“Amen, brother, but not to worry. I’ve got Cyrus the Virus to cover my ass.”
The following Friday morning I met Cyrus at the Spokane airport and we caught a flight to Vegas. When we exited the McCarran Airport terminal, a Comstock limo was waiting.
I looked at Cyrus as the driver stowed our gear in the trunk.
“First class all the way.”
“Uh-huh. Just be sure we don’t end up in the trunk on the return trip.”
In twenty minutes we were checking in. Al Pantelli arranged for the Casino to comp us a two-bedroom executive suite. When we entered the suite, I saw the red message light blinking on the bedside phone.
“Looks like we’ve already got a message,” I said, to Cyrus
“More likely a summons,” Cyrus replied.
I dialed the message center and was connected with Al’s office.
A man, whose voice I immediately recognized, answered.
“Mr. Pantelli, it’s Trace Brandon. Cyrus is here with me, and we’re at your service, sir.”
“Trace, damn glad you’re both here. Listen, my brother Pino and I have a pretty busy afternoon. How about we meet for supper in the Ruby Silver dining room? And check the desk drawer in your suite. There should be two velvet bags in the drawer. Each bag has a grand’s worth of chips. Try your luck on us, and we’ll see you at seven.”
“Okay, Al. Thanks for the comp’s and for the chips. We’ll do our best to give them back to the house.”
Al laughed. “You do that. See you this evening. Business casual is fine. Pino and I keep it pretty low key.”
Cyrus and I freshened up and went down to the casino. We were both hungry and ate a burger in a small fast-food restaurant in the casino. After the burgers, we split up to do some gambling, on the house. I hit the blackjack table, while Cyrus wandered over to the craps table.
By five in the afternoon, I was down five hundred, and I started feeling a little guilty about losing Al’s money. So, I went to find Cyrus.
He was at the craps table with a crowd of people around him. The gamblers betting with him were laughing and urging Cyrus on. Those betting he’d crap out didn’t look too happy.
“Damn, Cyrus. I guess you’re winning?”
Cyrus just smiled and shifted his eyes left and right to the two buxom beauties hanging all over him.
“You’re guess would be correct.”
I laughed. “It’s getting late. I’m down five hundred and heading up to the room.”
“I’m right behind you, kid,” Cyrus said, tipping the croupier and slipping a hundred- dollar chip into the cleavages of his two ardent admirers.
“How much are you up?” I asked, while we walked to the elevator.
“About eight hundred, less the titty tips,” he replied, with a laugh.
We each grabbed a shower and changed. I put on a pair of cream-colored slacks with a black silk-and-cotton-blend sport shirt. Cyrus wore gray slacks and a white-linen shirt. Decked out in our business causal finery, we headed downstairs to the Ruby Silver dining room.
The restaurant was reminiscent of a mining boomtown eatery, circa 1890’s, with soft lighting, heavy-wood tables, and chairs. Period paintings of mine headframes, grizzled miners holding chunks of high-grade silver ore, and dance-hall girls doing high kicks, adorned the walls.
My kind of place, I thought, following the maitre’d to the Pantelli’s’ table.
Al and Pino both stood up to greet us. They were both big men with dark hair and olive complexions, not quite handsome but pretty close, especially in their Armani slacks and sport shirts.
“Hello, Cyrus, my old friend,” Al said, shaking Cyrus’s hand. “I don’t think you’ve met my brother, Crispino?”
“No, but you talked a lot about him while we were guests of the state of Oregon.”
“Yeah, that’s one way of saying it,” Al said, as Pino and Cyrus shook hands.
“Al, Crispino,” Cyrus said, “this is Trace Brandon, founder, CEO, and chairman of Montana Creek Mining.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Trace,” Al said, firmly shaking my hand.
“Same goes for me, Trace,” Crispino said, extending his hand. “And please call me Pino.”
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” Al said, sitting back down. “What’ll you have to drink, gents?”
“Crown and water on the rocks for me,” I replied.
“Ditto,” Cyrus said.
Al motioned a waiter over , and gave him our drink orders. He and Pino were both drinking red wine.
Al started the dialogue.
“First off, just let me say, Pino and I are very pleased you’d both take time from your busy schedules to come to Vegas to meet with us. And just to clarify, Pino and I are partners in all our family business ventures, including our investment in Montana Creek Mining.”
“Our pleasure gentlemen,” I replied. “I’m pleased to meet you both. I’d like to thank you for your investment in Montana Creek Mining, and for inviting us to this meeting. Same goes for the comp’s, and for the chips.” I paused and smiled. “I’ve managed to donate half of mine back to the casino, but Cyrus is a winner.”
Al laughed. “Cyrus always was a good gambler. It’s one reason I’m glad he’s also a shareholder, and an advisor to you.” Al looked across the table at Cyrus. “You’ve been involved in mining for, what, forty years?”
“Just about,” Cyrus replied. “Long enough to know a good deal when I see one.”
“Well put, Cyrus,” Al said, opening his menu. “Let’s order, and then we can visit a bit. I think you’ll find everything on the menu is first class.”
I’d eaten so much seafood in Toronto, I was craving a steak. I ordered a porterhouse with all the fixin’s. Cyrus did likewise while the Pantelli brothers both had the veal.
Al was right; the meal was first class.
“My compliments to the chef, Al. I come from Black Angus, country up in Ellensburg, Washington. But this is as fine a steak as I’ve ever sunk a tooth into.”
“Thanks, Trace,” Al replied. “We brought in a hell of a chef from New Orleans, and we have access to some of the best beef in Nevada.”
We all ordered coffee and then got down to business.
“Trace, as I mentioned on the phone, the offer we received from this Lei Chang character is quite impressive. He’s talking a twenty percent premium to the market price of the shares, and I sense he’ll go higher. But, there’s no deal unless you commit to sell your shares too.”
I nodded. “Yes, I am aware of Lei Chang and the company he heads, URAN-China Nuclear Corp. And, as I mentioned on the phone, there could be some roadblocks to a Chinese company taking ownership of US uranium reserves. Uranium is a strategic mineral and closely regulated by the feds. I’m not sure the government would allow UCNC to take control of Montana Creek Mining.”
Pino put his coffee down and looked at me.
“Trace, Chang said if he acquired our shares, yours and ours, he’d tender for the balance of the outstanding shares at the same price. Don’t you have a fiduciary responsibility to allow your shareholders to decide if selling to Chang’s company is in their best interests?”
“Look, Pino,” I said, “I appreciate your situation, but Chang’s proposition is predicated on me selling my shares. Neither you all, nor the shareholders, are going to
dictate when , or to whom I sell my shares.”
I turned to Cyrus. “What’s your take, partner?”
“Well, if we sell to the Chinese, we could make a lot of money, provided the U.S. government lets the deal go through. On the other hand, we could approach International Uranium Corporation to match Chang’s offer. IUC’s managing director, Jim Lee, sits on our board, and they already own twenty percent of Montana Creek Mining.”
I nodded in agreement. “Keep in mind, Jim Lee will not get into a bidding war with the Chinese. However, neither will they have any regulatory problems taking control of Montana Creek Mining. We might get a bit less than the Chinese could offer, but we’d know the deal will close.”
“One other point, gentlemen,” Cyrus added. “There may be other suitors who show up once the word’s on the street that Montana Creek Mining is in play.”
I looked around the table. “Okay fellows, I’ll cut to the chase and save us all a lot of time. I’m not inclined to sell my shares to the Chinese. If Chang wants to put out a tender offer for all of our outstanding shares, more power to him. If all the other shareholders agree to tender their shares, I’ll do likewise. I won’t stand in the way. Majority rules with me, but the ball is in Chang’s court. I won’t agree to a separate sale of my shares, not to anybody.”
Al exhaled loudly and clasped his large hands together.
“You know, Trace, if Chang doesn’t make an offer for all the outstanding shares, we could lose this opportunity. It could cost my family a lot of dough.”
“Maybe in the short run, Al. But in the long run, I think you’ll make more by holding your shares.”
Al looked over his clasped hands at Pino for a long moment and then returned his gaze to me.
“Fair enough, Trace. My brother and I appreciate you and Cyrus taking the time to come down here to discuss this situation. For now, I believe we’ll, as you said, leave the ball in Chang’s court, but we’ll be monitoring the situation . . . very carefully.”
Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) Page 21