What lovely bullshit, Fallon thought. Samantha had already told him what Carter had planned for his future. He smiled into the smoke screen. “That’s comforting to know, Carter. But my perceptions—and concerns—also extend to some other people who have put in some long and productive years for this company.”
Bennett’s hands went up defensively. “Jack, I assure you, nothing has been definitely decided, and if and when it is, no one will be unduly hurt. When our plans are formalized—and that’s still quite a way off—compensation for anyone affected will be quite liberal.” He sensed Fallon about to question that liberality and hurried on. “And I’d very much like your input on that.” He paused. “If and when it comes to that, of course.”
“I assure you, I’ll be happy to do it, Carter.”
Bennett decided to stop fencing. It was hardball time. Buyout time. “Jack, we need you to be a team player on this. We all have to do what’s good for the company. Above all other considerations.”
Fallon sat back and crossed his legs. “Carter, I couldn’t agree more. It’s my company, too. And if austerity is called for, well, that’s life in the big, bad world. Everyone understands that.” He paused, leaned forward. “My concern—in addition to my own survival—is the selection process. I think it should be based on individual contribution and merit. Those who provide the most, stay. Those who don’t, leave. Not selection based on age with salary and pension costs factored in. And I think that because it’s what’s best for the future of the company.”
Bennett smiled. It was a warm, sincere, open smile, but to Fallon it was the expression of a hungry lion watching a gazelle. “I couldn’t agree more, Jack. We—the company—need to retain top talent. And cost-efficient talent. I assure you that’s my goal, and I’m going to rely on you, and the other division heads, for a great deal of input.” He hesitated a beat. “But it can’t become a debate based on friendships, Jack. That won’t serve the company, or our purpose.” Another smile. “Do we have a meeting of minds on that?”
Fallon returned the smile. He hoped it resembled a wolf eyeing a lamb. He had hoped Bennett would pick up on his expressed interest in his own survival, and he had. It was exactly what the man had been seeking. But he had still played it close to the vest, not revealing all that Fallon had hoped he would. “I think we understand each other perfectly, Carter.”
Bennett stood and extended his hand. Fallon accepted it.
“It’s great to know you’re on board, Jack.” The smile came again. Fallon returned it—wolf versus lion. “I wish we could have brought you into the loop earlier, but it just wasn’t practical.”
“It’s nice to be there now,” Fallon said. He turned to leave.
“Oh, wait one minute, Jack,” Bennett said, stopping him. “I forgot one minor detail.”
Fallon turned back and found Bennett grinning again. “Charlie Waters wanted me to let you know that your next paycheck will include a long-overdue raise.” He jotted a figure on a piece of paper and handed it to Fallon. “This will be your new base salary.”
Fallon looked at the figure and inclined his head to one side. “I’m impressed. And appreciative.”
“Well, as Charlie said, it’s long overdue. I think he regrets that business pressures have kept you two from being as close as he would have liked.” He offered his own look of regret, began to sit, then stopped himself. “Oh, Jack, do me one other favor, would you? Just to make my life easier. Let’s not push for any more tests just now. It really raises hell with all our cost-cutting efforts.”
“That won’t be a problem, Carter. We’ll find a way to work around it.”
“Great, Jack.”
Bennett was smiling again, as Fallon left his office.
“The sonofabitch.” Fallon looked at the ceiling of Samantha’s apartment and barked out a laugh.
“Which sonofabitch are you talking about?” Samantha asked.
Fallon thought a moment, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. “You’re right. There are two of them. That smarmy little shit, Bennett, and my dear old friend, Charlie Waters.” A cold smile came to his lips. It was the first hint of one Samantha had seen since they returned to her apartment. The unexpected raise had left him hurt and confused, angry and uncertain.
Fallon crossed the room to the window. Samantha came to his side, rested her head against his shoulder as his arm circled her waist. “Have you considered that you may have frightened them?” she asked.
He hadn’t. “With what? A few T-shirts that say THE DINOSAUR CLUB? A phony newsletter and some E-mail memos?” He mulled the idea over, tried to make sense of it. “I don’t see the threat,” he said at length. “Not a real one, anyway.”
Samantha chose her words carefully. She turned and paced the room, the lawyer before the jury. “Jack, it’s obvious they felt one. Why didn’t they just fire you?” She returned to his side.
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?” He ground his teeth. “Because they thought they could buy me off. Right?”
“That wasn’t because of you. It’s the way they think.”
Fallon continued to stare into the street. “You know what my first thought was, the first thing that flashed through my mind? I thought: You’re saved.” He drew a breath. “It was only momentary, but it was there.” He faced her, placed his hands gently on her arms. “And they knew I’d think that. They knew I was that desperate to save my own hide.” The words stung, and he shook his head again. His mother, his children, the upcoming divorce rushed to mind. “And damned if it isn’t tempting.” His voice was weary, with an overtone of self-disgust. He turned back to the window.
Samantha hesitated, still wary of hurting him further. Being treated with disdain after so many years had left him reeling. She didn’t want to add to it.
“Okay, Jack. Let’s accept that idea—in principle. And if you did, you wouldn’t be doing anything a million others wouldn’t do in your place. And they know that. It’s part of their mind-set. Corporations understand only two ways of dealing with people: Buy them off or beat them into the ground. And they buy people off only to avoid problems. So let’s figure out what threat you presented.”
Fallon went to the sofa and sprawled in one corner. The apartment was still alien territory to him. It was comfortable, tastefully furnished, but it was still too new for him to feel he belonged there. His job of twenty-three years now felt the same way.
Samantha had taken a chair opposite him. “Think about it, Jack,” she urged.
Fallon sat forward, rubbed his hands together. “Okay. They’re worried I might lead a small insurrection. That it might end up in the courts, and perhaps even cost them some money.” He shook his head. “Even if that happens—even if they lose that fight—they still come out ahead over time. They’ve already factored all that in. You told me so yourself.”
She let him mull it over, work it out for himself. When he remained silent, she prodded him gently.
“You’re right. In the long run they still win,” Samantha said. “Unless a judge stops them. It’s unlikely, but possible. More likely if a suit comes before a buyout is completed. They usually happen after the fact. That’s when employees realize what’s been done to them and decide to fight for additional compensation. By then they know it was discriminatory, and their initial fear is gone. They understand they have nothing more to lose. It’s why companies make their offers lucrative and set a time limit for employees to accept them. It pressures the employees; makes them afraid they’ll lose what’s being offered. So they grab it, and the companies have accomplished what they want. The employees are gone, and even though it may cost them some more money down the line if the employees eventually sue, they know what they’ve done won’t be overturned. They know judges are loath to reverse something that’s preexisting.”
“But we know what they’re going to do,” Fallon said. “Before the fact.”
Samantha shook her head. “We know what’s being considered. But even if they start forcing people
out, we can’t prove any connection to a definite downsizing plan based on age. After the fact we probably could make a strong case for it. But not now.”
“So they’re using me to buy time. And even to do some of the dirty work for them.”
“And if you play hatchet man for them, what do you think happens to you later?”
Fallon gave her another cold smile. “No question about that, is there? They dump me after the buyout. They get me to play their game, maybe even swing the ax for them, and then I’m out. A nice hard lesson for Jack Fallon. Because he caused problems. Because he didn’t want to lie down and take it.”
“So why not just get rid of you now?” She pointed a finger at him. “Because they know you’d probably fight them. And that might delay what they want to do. It might even stop them from forcing other people out, because they know those people might join up with you and give them an even bigger fight, a bigger problem. The very problem they want to avoid if they can.” She paused, cocked her head to one side. “So what’s the threat you present? Time. First, you might be able to get people to resist—to fight any attempt to force them out voluntarily. And if that happens, it raises the odds of a time-consuming lawsuit. Next, you could go to individual board members and create a minor fuss and some potential delays. They can overcome that, but they don’t want to. Again, it would take time. So again time appears to be some major factor here. It seems to present some kind of problem for them. Why? And what is it? That’s something you have to find out.”
Samantha leaned in closer. “What else did Bennett suggest?”
Fallon thought back. He had almost forgotten the other point Carter had made. It had been done as an apparent afterthought, and he had almost allowed it to slide past. “He doesn’t want any more tests.”
“And why is that? Charlie Waters wouldn’t even agree to see you before you requested those tests. Maybe there’s a connection. I think you have to find out if there is, and, if so, how it plays into this entire scenario.”
Fallon nodded absently. He ran through the possibilities. None of it seemed to make sense.
Samantha continued. “And you can’t do any of that from the outside, Jack. You were smart—maybe inadvertently so—but still smart. You played along with Carter to see what he’d say. It didn’t work, but maybe if you keep playing along with him, it will. Maybe you can find out what they’re really up to. And you’ll definitely be more help to your friends if you can find out the whens and hows and whys of everything.”
“So what do I tell them? My friends. My fellow dinosaurs. These guys who depend on me. What do I say? Hey, guys, it may look like I’ve joined the other side, but I really haven’t. Trust me, even if I seem to have finked out on you.” He looked across at her. What would he do if everyone balked—if everyone just walked away—if they decided Jack Fallon was just covering his own tail?
Samantha seemed to read his thoughts. She reached across and took his hand. “I think you have to tell them the truth and hope they believe you.
19
SAMANTHA MET HIM IN A RESTAURANT NOT FAR FROM THE office. She had known him since her days at Columbia Law School. Stanley Kijewski had been nineteen and already working toward his doctorate in computer science. Her own computer had been causing her endless problems, and Kijewski had offered invaluable help. They had become friends, and had remained so over the years.
Kijewski was small and skinny and unkempt. His hair fell across a forehead still splattered with adolescent blemishes despite his twenty-nine years. He had a long nose and oversized lips, and he seemed to have last brushed his teeth in high school. They had yellowed, almost to the point of becoming brown. A jumbo-sized Snickers bar protruded from his shirt pocket.
He lived and breathed computers, acknowledged spending no fewer than fifteen hours a day before his personal terminal, and his thick glasses seemed to affirm that claim. He had also left his doctorate unfinished—bored by what he saw as an absence of creativity among his professors. What he meant was that they refused to condone the tireless hacking that alone inspired him. Now he headed up a three-man team of hackers who specialized in corporate computer security. In effect, he taught them how to avoid people like himself, then spent his free time deducing ways to overcome his own security systems. And he earned an impressive living doing it, the poacher turned gamekeeper.
Samantha leaned across the small table that separated them, both hands circling the glass of white wine that sat only inches from Kijewski’s bottle of St. Pauli Girl beer. “I want you to do something for me,” she said. “It may not be completely legal, and it’s certainly not ethical.”
Kijewski flashed a yellow/brown grin; his eyebrows fluttered up and down. “Any chance of getting caught?” he asked. He sounded as though he’d be disappointed if there was not.
Samantha shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I can’t promise that it’s risk free.” She watched his grin widen. “You could work out of my office, if necessary, pretend you were fixing some computer problem. But if it takes a great deal of time, it might be better if you could move off site.”
“Hey, once I crack your system, I can work on the moon.” He was twisting in his chair, eager to hear more.
“I remember you once told me how computer information, even when it’s deleted, can often be retrieved.” She watched him nod agreement. “I also recalled you saying that the same was true about E-mail, and other communications transactions.” Another nod.
“Easy stuff. Time-consuming sometimes. But doable.” Kijewski was grinning again.
Samantha hesitated. She hadn’t told Fallon what she planned, hadn’t really formulated it in her own mind. She wanted to investigate Bennett and Waters; try to find out what, if anything, of their plans had found its way into their personal office computers. Kijewski had often told her hair-raising tales about sloppy employee practices when it came to computers; how they lulled themselves into the false belief that the use of passwords and codes hid their entries from prying eyes. How they sometimes even failed to erase damning information, or when they did, failed to realize that the information could often be recovered.
A computer, he had said, was not unlike a group of employees standing around a water cooler glibly exchanging company secrets. Especially where E-mail messages were concerned. And the courts had ruled that those messages, like all other information stored on computers, were part of a company’s records and were, therefore, subject to subpoena and discovery. Kijewski had made a great deal of money teaching companies how to avoid that computer pitfall. But even with that information the problem continued to exist. Arrogance often replaced ignorance—especially among company executives. It was a flaw Samantha was counting on.
What she wanted Kijewski to do was not technically illegal. She was an employee of Waters Cable and had legal access to their computer system. The question of ethics, however, was another matter. She was a lawyer working for the company, and as such was expected to safeguard its secrets. She had argued the point endlessly in her mind. Did that ethical obligation extend to other employees—Waters and Bennett—who might be acting illegally? Or did she have an obligation to uncover that illegality for the good of the company, its board of directors, and its stockholders? It was a fine line, and she had chosen to cross it.
“There are two people at Waters Cable who may be doing things that violate federal law,” she said.
“Naughty boys.” Kijewski grinned again. He considered it his job—his destiny, really—to break federal laws every day.
Samantha ignored him. “Their names are Carter Bennett—he’s our chief financial officer—and Charlie Waters, the company’s CEO and chairman.”
“Lordy, you do go right to the top, don’t you?” He leaned toward her until their faces were only a foot apart. “What are the rascals up to?”
Samantha moved back from the yellow grin, covered the withdrawal with a sip of wine. “I know they’re about to stage an employee buyout,” she said. “One that involv
es age discrimination that they’re trying to hide.”
“Pension costs, huh?” Kijewski said. “Dump the older slaves and pocket the savings.” He had seen the game played before during strolls through the computer secrets of countless companies. “But you think there’s more, huh? What’s your guess? A little insider trading, maybe? Snag some heavy personal loot when the downsizing is announced?”
Samantha raised her eyebrows. Kijewski had eased back in his chair, so she leaned forward again. “It’s one place to look,” she said. “But there may also be others. Time seems to be a factor here. They’re very concerned about any delays, and that confuses me.” She told him about Fallon without mentioning his name—about the pressure being exerted to bring him on board.
“Most companies who want to pull something like this do it very methodically,” she continued. “They rid themselves of opposition, then move ahead. This case seems different. I keep asking myself why Waters and Bennett didn’t just fire this man and quietly deal with any fuss he raised. Then just sit on their hands for five or six months and let everything quiet down. Then start forcing people out. And when they’d achieved maximum results, then announce their downsizing plan and their proposed buyout.”
Kijewski nodded. “It’s a long-range program. So there’s no need to rush.” He tapped the side of his head and winked. “Unless something else is going on that demands a time frame.”
“One other thing,” Samantha added. “This executive they’re trying to coerce has also been told not to run quality-control tests at our Platts-burgh plant. The company is having product problems, but for some reason it appears they don’t want to know what they are. That doesn’t make sense either.”
The Dinosaur Club Page 27