A Family Divided

by Tom Berreman

  To maintain the momentum, he implemented similar delay tactics, his first to fire the engineer who shared the QA diagnostics with the regulatory agency.

  “I’ve run an updated analysis including the diagnostics we ran this week, and there still seems to be a problem,” he said as he passed a copy of the report across the desk. “You present this to Burke and Rogers, a united front should add credibility to our recommendation that further R&D should fix the problem.”

  Brent reviewed the report with skepticism as the results differed from the preliminary analysis he prepared using the same data. But again, why should he dispute them? After all, Ritter’s the boss.

  * * *

  “This is bullshit!” Eric Rogers said as he slammed his copy of the quality assurance analysis on the conference table after Brent finished his presentation. Adam Ritter sat at the other side of the table without comment. “It is common knowledge amongst my colleagues that PCI was at least six months from introducing its long-range sensor, but our snail paced QA department let them beat us to the marketplace.”

  “Eric, please calm down,” Jason said, hoping to dampen the conflict as he turned his attention to Ritter. “Adam, you were involved with this project since the beginning, and can appreciate Eric’s frustration. We’ve been down this road before, and he was sure he solved this problem. Do you agree with Brent’s conclusions?”

  “The results surprised me as much as anyone. But I reviewed the analysis and we’re still getting unacceptable diagnostic failures. It’s better than it was, but I have to agree with Brent. We’re just not ready to approve this sensor’s release.”

  Before Ritter could justify his analysis Eric interrupted.

  “I’ll run the diagnostics myself,” he said. “I just can’t accept these results.”

  “Are you questioning my competence?” Adam asked as he stood, placed both hands on the table and leaned forward in Eric’s direction. The contempt in his voice caught everyone off guard.

  “Damn right I am!” he said, standing in response.

  They looked close to exchanging blows.

  “Everyone please relax,” Jason said. “The only way we’ll solve this problem is to work together. I appreciate your dedication Adam, but I talked with Autonohaul’s CEO late last week and even though they’re in preliminary negotiations with PCI, we’re still in the running if we can get our sensor through quality assurance.”

  “Are you suggesting I approve it despite an inconclusive analysis?”

  “No, of course not. You need to be one hundred percent confident in your conclusion. But what do you think about PCI beating us to Autonohaul? To go from six months away from releasing their sensor to negotiations with the industry leader in autonomous long-haul truck development in a matter of weeks can only mean one of two things.”

  “And those are…?” Ritter asked.

  “They either cut corners on their R&D and diagnostic testing,” Eric said. “Or they--”

  “Bought the technology,” Jason interrupted, finishing Eric’s sentence as he looked straight into Brent’s eyes. “And the only company with that level of sophisticated sensor technology under development is Jennco.”

  “Why are you looking at me?” Brent asked. His apprehensiveness was clear to all around the table.

  “Well…, I reviewed the company’s archives and found an email in your account confirming a five hundred thousand dollar wire transfer to your Cayman Islands account.”

  “You bastard, that’s personal, and I deleted it. You had no right to invade my privacy by reviewing my emails.”

  “I’m sorry, but I beg to differ,” Jason said, his calm voice thick with sarcasm. “Your email was on a company computer, and it is therefore subject to review by management. And our tech guys can retrieve deleted emails from the archives. You have no legal expectation of privacy.”

  “But--”

  “And I’d like to know what the wire transfer was for.”

  Brent, fuming with three pair of eyes focused on him, paused a moment before he responded.

  Jason waited for an answer, convinced he was taking time to concoct a phony explanation.

  “That payment was for my share of a deal I did at Wolfowitz and Lange before I left the firm. The deal was tied up in litigation which has settled, and my tax advisor recommended I deposit it to an offshore account.”

  “I will need to see documentation to support this.”

  “Go to hell. The settlement is confidential, subject to a nondisclosure agreement, and I have no intention of sharing it with you.”

  Convinced pursuing the matter further right now would go nowhere, Jason returned his attention to Eric and Ritter. Despite the pause to put Brent on the hot seat, they each looked as though they could erupt any second.

  “I suggest you both set your anger aside, shake hands and go back to work. Redouble your review of the sensor testing so we can get it ready to release. We’ll reconvene in a few days and hope cooler heads prevail.”

  The men stood across the table from each other, glaring, ignoring Jason’s suggestion of reconciliation. After an uncomfortable pause Eric shook his head, turned and left the room without further comment.

  He left his copy of Brent’s PowerPoint on the table.

  “Sorry boss, just doing my job,” Adam said to Jason. Without waiting for a response he turned to leave the office. Brent stood and followed him.

  Jason sat alone, his elbows resting on the table, his chin on his folded hands. He sighed in frustration.

  Chapter 53.

  “It looks like those walks on the beach are good for your tan,” was the first thing Megan said when her face appeared via Skype on Jason’s laptop screen.

  “I guess the California sun is a little stronger than Minnesota’s, especially in January. I’m just trying to take advantage while I can.”

  “Are you getting ready to go back home?”

  “Soon. We’ve settled the estate matters, which is why I came to California. And just between you and me, Allison’s getting too comfortable with me running Jennco. She’s got to realize it’s time for her to put a new management team in place.”

  It had been six weeks since PCI announced it beat Jennco to market with its sensor. Ritter had finally signed off on the long-range sensor diagnostics, but it was too late to present a proposal to Autonohaul. Their only hope was that PCI’s sensor would fail Autonohaul’s quality assurance and they could resubmit their sensor for consideration. Jennco had returned to business as usual, manufacturing its mainstay products that proved reliable and profitable in the past.

  “What about Brent Jennings? He and his siblings own forty-five percent of the company. Why doesn’t he step up and take over?”

  “I considered that, even as much as I dislike, and distrust, the guy. But he’s convinced he got screwed out of a controlling interest in the company, and word has it he’s moving back to his former consulting firm in New York. And it would be good riddance as far as I’m concerned.”

  “There must be others who could take over.”

  “I told Allison that Eric Rogers, the company’s vice president of R&D, would make an excellent CEO.”

  “How long is she staying in California? Doesn’t she have a family in Minneapolis?”

  “She hasn’t told me this, but I’m sure she’s considering staying here for Ryan and having her kids live with her. I’ve overheard several phone conversations between her and her husband, and they always end in a shouting match. It wouldn’t surprise me if she files for divorce and full custody.”

  “Have you considered staying in California to help her through the transition?”

  “Not for a second. I just want to get back to Grand Marais and hope you can join me soon. But, if Plan B in Moscow has to happen, then so be it. I miss you too much to think of anything else.”

  “About the Moscow thing….”

  Jason exhaled in despair, sure she had accepted the position.

  “It’s not wh
at you think,” she continued. “I asked my boss if I could have another month to consider the offer.”

  “And?”

  “He compromised and gave me two weeks.”

  “Okay, so I’m still in the running.”

  “Don’t look at it as a competition, it’s just a complicated decision to make. I’ve invested a lot in my career, and damn it, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. The Moscow position would be a huge addition to my resume.”

  “I’m sorry. And yes, you’re right. And I am proud of all you’ve accomplished. I don’t mean to make matters more complicated. Let’s just keep talking.”

  “I agree,” she said as her phone rang in the background. “Damn, this is a critical call, I need to take it. Can we Skype again tomorrow?”

  “Anytime is fine with me.”

  “Okay,” she said as she answered her phone before his laptop screen went black.

  He sighed that he and Megan may never have a life together in Grand Marais. She would head off to Moscow, then maybe Paris, then who knew from there.

  He sat back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head and contemplated whether to call it a day and go for a long walk on the beach when there was a knock on his door.

  “Come in,” he said and Eric Rogers poked his head in the door.

  “Hey boss, got a minute?”

  “Sure, come in. What’s up?”

  “Only this,” he said as he laid a press release on Jason’s desk. The headline read Pacific Coast Industries Wins Exclusive Laser Sensor Contract for Autonohaul’s Long Haul Truck Program.

  “Looks like being number two waiting in the wings for PCI to fail won’t work after all,” Jason said. He regretted ever making the comment.

  “Yeah, but goddamn it Jason. I spent the last year of my life working on that sensor. I was ready to send it to final testing when my cabin gets burned setting me back three months. But I persevered. We didn’t cut corners on testing…, actually, thanks to Ritter, we went around them twice just to make sure…, but shit. We deserved to be first.”

  “I appreciate your frustration, it hurts to come in second to Hartwig yet again. But as the market develops, I’m sure there’ll be room for our sensor. All your efforts will not go to waste.”

  “I sure hope you’re right. If not, maybe I will go build solar panels in Africa. At least my efforts would benefit somebody.”

  Chapter 54.

  A week after announcing PCI’s exclusive contract Autonohaul held a press conference to detail its plans for introducing its autonomous long-haul big rig truck to the market. Its CEO presented a well-rehearsed speech outlining why its truck was better than any other currently under development. Prominently displayed behind him was a prototype truck connected to a trailer filled with Chinese manufactured aftermarket auto parts destined for a Sacramento distribution warehouse.

  At the press conference’s conclusion Louis Hartwig, Autonohaul’s CEO and its vice president of research and development boarded the prototype to ride along on the ceremonious first commercial delivery.

  Hartwig struggled to hide his excitement as the autonomous big rig truck prototype maneuvered the northbound Interstate 5 entrance ramp, working through its eighteen gears to get to highway cruising speed. As they boarded the truck Hartwig took the front passenger seat next to the test driver as though he were entitled. Autonohaul’s executives sat in the seats behind them where a driver’s sleeping quarters would be. Their attempts to persuade Hartwig the company CEO’s rightful place was in the front seat proved fruitless, his stares in return suggesting it might take physical force to remove him.

  “Everything is working as expected,” Hartwig said as he turned to face the men in the back seats. They each struggled with second thoughts why they chose to do business with this arrogant narcissist.

  After an uneventful hour the truck came over a small rise and the men noticed flashing blue lights ahead. A traffic accident blocked all three northbound lanes, and a state trooper squad was parked on the shoulder a quarter mile before the traffic backup. The trooper was standing outside the squad in the traffic lane signaling oncoming traffic to slow to a stop. The last vehicle to slow as it passed the trooper was a tour bus carrying a rural Nebraska high school band returning home after marching in Pasadena’s annual Tournament of Roses Parade.

  Panic began to build inside the cab as the truck failed to slow and accelerated instead.

  “Activate the override, hit the brakes!” Hartwig screamed.

  “I am, I am,” the panicked test driver exclaimed. “It’s not responding!”

  The truck blew by the trooper at seventy miles per hour, forcing her to jump to the safety of the shoulder and roll into the shallow roadside ditch.

  “Hit the brakes, hit the brakes!” Hartwig continued to scream. The men in the back seats sat stunned, silent, their faces like deer in the headlights.

  The four men screamed in unison as the truck slammed into the bus.

  Chapter 55.

  Jason stared at the spreadsheet on his computer screen, wishing he took a walk on the beach instead of staying in the office to review production forecasts. Eric Rogers walked through his open door unannounced and sat at the conference table.

  “You’ve got to turn on the TV,” he said. It had been a week since their last meeting mourning the loss of Autonohaul’s contract to PCI.

  Jason opened his desk drawer to retrieve the remote control for the wall-mounted TV, hit the power button and joined Eric at the table. The red Breaking News banner was an ironic color match to the flashing red lights of ambulances and fire trucks at the accident scene. On the screen was a news reporter, a serious expression on her face. She held a microphone just below her chin, a dramatic shot as she stood before the controlled chaos of emergency vehicles and first responders.

  “I just spoke with James Anderson, captain of the first fire company to respond. He confirmed there are multiple fatalities and even more injuries, many severe, among the bus passengers, most of whom are high school students from Ogallala Nebraska High School. Four passengers in the big rig truck with non-life-threatening injuries were transported from the accident scene by ambulance.”

  The Autonohaul logo on the crumpled trailer visible over her shoulder dominated the screen.

  “Recapping this terrible accident, at two o’clock this afternoon Autonohaul’s big rig truck prototype, on its ceremonious first commercial shipment, slammed into the rear of a tour bus stopped in traffic caused by a minor accident blocking northbound Interstate 5. The state trooper on the scene stated the truck appeared to be accelerating as it approached the stopped tour bus.”

  Jason hit the power button, and both men sat in silence as the TV screen went black.

  * * *

  Across town, in the ocean-side condominium living room she paid Los Angeles’ hottest interior designer thirty thousand dollars to redesign and refurnish, Sally Gorman watched the same newscast.

  She hung her head in despair at the revelation the autonomous truck guided by PCI’s laser sensor was accelerating when it should have braked. As the newscast finished, she turned off the television and poured herself a glass of wine. She walked into her home office, sat behind the desk, unlocked the file drawer and retrieved the internal emails Louis Hartwig directed her to shred. A brief scan confirmed her decision to keep them instead to protect her if she were dragged into the shit storm sure to erupt from this disaster.

  She sighed as she pondered her options. A UCLA aeronautical engineering professor she met only three months before had proposed, and she accepted. The short time they had known each other was not an issue as they both knew it was right the first time they met.

  NASA had selected him for an eight-month sabbatical as a visiting engineer at the Kennedy Space Center. They agreed to maintain a long-distance relationship while she continued working for Louis Hartwig, spending weekends together when she could get away. But she was debating whether to reconsider her decision not to join h
er fiancé in Florida.

  She opened the laptop sitting on her desk and began to type. After ten minutes she clicked her mouse on the print icon causing the wireless printer across the room to come to life. The document spit out was not a smoke and mirrors press release explaining Pacific Coast Industries’ laser sensor failure.

  She pulled a pen from her desk drawer and signed her letter of resignation.

  Chapter 56.

  After a two-month investigation, state and federal regulators determined the long-range laser sensor manufactured by Pacific Coast Industries was the sole cause of the accident. The next day the California Attorney General held a press conference.

  “Tomorrow morning, we will charge Pacific Coast Industries and its chief executive officer, Louis Hartwig, with fourteen counts of negligent vehicular homicide along with numerous lesser charges related to the accident. We have substantial evidence suggesting PCI ignored prudent, industry accepted testing protocols in its quest to be the first company to bring its long-range laser sensor to the lucrative autonomous long-haul truck market.”

  When asked by a reporter whether the district attorney intended to charge Autonohaul, she responded the company’s comparative negligence in the crash did not rise to the threshold necessary to support criminal charges.

  Louis Hartwig watched the televised press conference in the office of Trevor Buchwald, his outside legal counsel. They expected the criminal charges and had developed their defense.

  “Now, you are positive the documents you have compiled reflect the testing your company performed to ensure the sensor complied with reasonable, industry acceptable protocols?” Buchwald asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  A long pause followed, and the tension in the room was thick. Buchwald was nervous it took his client over a week to produce the testing documentation. A response to his request for business documents produced in the ordinary course should have taken hours, not days. Hartwig blamed the delay on his director of quality assurance’s departure shortly before the company released the sensor six months ahead of schedule, which presented Buchwald another red flag.