The Snare

by David A Ogunde

  “And you can put whatever you need onto the big screen,” she continued in a somewhat bland voice as if she was giving a new-trainee speech for the thousandth time. “Like so.”

  She touched the display in front of her and swiftly swiped across it in the direction of the big screen on the wall. Instantly, the large screen lit up, showing the document she had just “thrown” to it.

  “You can put as many documents up there as you need, plus all the table space is yours.” She checked her digital watch. “Lunch will be here in about half an hour, so… let’s get started.”

  She zoned back into her computer while James stood up and walked to where the copies of his original report sat on the table. He picked up a file and began to flip through it, though his mind was far from the pages. The enormity of what had just happened—and of what was happening—suddenly came crashing down on him like a boulder from a mountaintop. “A day or two of business meetings” had suddenly multiplied into several days of work, and he knew it wouldn’t stop there. What about Sarah and Tolu? They had all moved to London because the job GED had offered was low-travel, which is what his family needed right now. Would he be able to break the disappointing news that all that had suddenly changed? Did he have a choice?

  Cyndi looked up from her screen to see that James was holding a file, but not really doing anything. Looking at his face, she guessed that his thoughts weren’t on the work; she needed to keep him on track.

  “Just consider this a promotion evaluation,” she spoke up emphatically. “If you can really do what we think you can do, this role is for keeps—which, by the way, attracts a minimum of a million dollar annual bonus. That can shoot up to five or ten mil, depending on the assignment. Not to mention the perks— traveling around the world, shaking hands with national leaders, CEO's, political leaders, and relaxing in luxury hotels all over the globe. Not a bad deal, wouldn’t you say?”

  She looked James right in the eye, and for once he could detect a faint glimmer of excitement behind her wintery stare. This was a challenge, and she was almost daring him to refuse. James didn’t break the hold of her stare, though his mind fled in several directions at once. There was no doubt that she was offering him his dream job. And yet, he wondered how much leeway he had actually had to turn it down. Was this an offer or a command? The idea of being made to do something instead of given a fair chance to say no pricked at his mind, but not enough to deter him from considering the deal. It would involve more travel than he had been interested in, but the monetary compensation was almost irresistible. Just think what he could do for his family, friends, and countrymen, not to mention what the work itself could do for the world. It took a split-second to weigh his thoughts in the balance before he firmly gave his answer.

  “Well, Ms. Pale. It doesn’t sound like a bad deal at all.”

  An almost genuine smile appeared on Cyndi’s face. “James, that’s just what I wanted to hear.”

  Chapter 32

  It had been a long first day at GED headquarters; and James was ready to call it a night. Throughout the afternoon he had been able to put together the rough draft of the report they were looking for, but wished he had extra time to make it more extensive and detailed. Cyndi assured him that it would work for their preliminary trip tomorrow and dismissed him with a sharp reminder that a car would pick him up from his hotel at 6 a.m. the next morning. He promised to be ready, wished her a good night, and exited the conference room. He was in the hall for two seconds before remembering that he had no idea where he was going or how to get to there. Quickly, he backtracked and waved his hand across the door’s chip reader, hoping to get back into the conference room and ask. But the silver reader glared red—not authorized to enter. That was strange.

  He raised his hand to knock when a cheerful voice from nowhere spoke out.

  “You seem to be having some trouble, Mr. Mode. May I be of assistance?”

  James looked around trying to detect the speakers the computer voice was being emitted from, or at least, the cameras it was detecting his movements with. But he couldn’t spot any. It felt a little creepy.

  “Uh, yeah,” James glanced at the ceiling as he spoke. “I guess I’m ready to go to my hotel now.”

  “Very good, sir.” The voice answered without hesitation. “I’ve notified your driver to pick you up. If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to the nearest elevator.”

  The faint blue light once again appeared against the wall, and James walked down the hallway beside it. Curious, he reached over to touch the thin, glowing strip, half expecting it to feel warm and have a pulse. It was crazy how fast the world was moving into a new age, and scary how many things were going to be left behind—like the art of figuring out a building directory. Chuckling at his own joke, James was about to step into the elevator when the computer guide spoke again, unobtrusively: “Excuse me, Mr. Mode. But I’ve just received a request to escort you to the top office. Mr. Maximos would like to have a word with you.”

  “Lead on,” James assented with more confidence than he felt. He stepped into the blue-lit elevator and waited in anticipation during his momentum-less ride. Maximos. The founder, owner, and highest decision-maker in the company—not to mention one of the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest man in the world. Even though James had met with men and women of political and corporate power before, for some reason, this meeting made him feel a little nervous.

  His anxiety was not lessened when he stepped from the elevator onto a floor that was dark and empty. Only the softly lit guidance indicator strip along the wall gave any kind of sign that he wasn’t intruding here by mistake. At least, he hoped so. Could the computer have a bug or, even worse, would someone with programming abilities play a bad joke on him? Uncertain, James scanned the space before walking quietly down the foremost carpeted hallway and passing a few doors here and there. All were quietly sealed up and revealed nothing to confirm the appropriateness of his presence here.

  Then, without warning, the guidance light disappeared from the wall, and James was left with just a faint glow from the city lights out some distant windows for company. Liking this game less and less, and halfway convinced that this was, indeed, some kind of initiation prank, he turned on his heels to head back to the elevator when a small golden light above his head emerged into being. Behind it, another lit; and another. It was as if an invisible torch were being passed from one to the next, lighting a path that reached all the way down another long hallway. James followed the new path hastily and found himself in a barely-lit room surrounded on all sides by clear walls of glass cut in elaborate shapes. It was quite beautiful.

  “Solid effort in the press conference today, Mr. Mode,” a voice greeted from the dark. “I like your style.”

  A man emerged from a shadowed corner to James’ left, walking at a slow pace with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. He was wearing an elaborate silver, robe-like garment over his shirtsleeves and trousers; James could see his suit jacket hanging from the back of a chair next to what he assumed was the man’s desk on the other side of the room. Clearly, this man preferred comfort over formality—at 9 o’clock at night, anyway.

  “Mr. Maximos,” James greeted, trying to keep his eyes from helping themselves to a second glance at the ornate slippers the CEO was wearing. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure, Mr. Mode.” Maximos’ eyes exuded the sincerity and warmth of his words, and James suddenly felt relaxed and at ease; more so than he had felt all day. “Please, sit.”

  Maximos led them to a sitting area in the same corner he had appeared from. In the darkened room—seeming to be lit only from the efforts of the bustling city below—James took a cue from Maximos’ casual appearance and behavior and allowed his professional manner to loosen. He felt no scruples in choosing the largest, plushest chair to set himself down in. The other smiled and simply settled upon a wooden coffee table a few feet away.

  “Take a l
oad off.” Maximos encouraged. “It’s been a long road, hasn’t it, James?”

  “Sir? I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Only that you’ve finally arrived at your goal. Isn’t that right? You’ve worked very hard for many years always trying to get somewhere…and now you are here. You’ve ascended to the capstone, reached the pinnacle of your life’s work. What you were born to do, James, is now what you get to do.”

  James looked at the smooth orator, puzzled as to what he was getting at.

  “I’ve had my eye on you for a while now,” Maximos continued, “Starting with your work at CellSens, one of my subsidiaries. Your intelligence, hard work, and ability to grasp their vision—my vision—made you stand out and even reach my interest up here on the 109th floor a world away. Then, when you assisted my team with the loan for your country, I was introduced, through the reports, to your particular skill sets, your genius; not just in economic projections, but your innate intuition of any country’s particular clockwork. What takes others years to research, you seem to have knowledge of almost instantly. You throw a dart into the dark and hit the information bullseye every time. What could be your secret, I wonder?”

  James shrugged his shoulders against the deep padding of his chair and answered honestly. “There is no secret. I just…I care about my work. I care about the countries that my work is benefiting. I know that this world can be a better place; and I know that there is a way to make that happen. So, when I’m working on projections and reports, I put myself there, you know. I look at their governmental and social ‘schematics’, so to speak—all the data is there in the numbers—and detect the strengths, weaknesses, and potential problems. Then I just manipulate the data until the desired theoretical result is reached.”

  “That kind of manipulation can take a team of analysts months…” Maximos prodded.

  “Well,” James admitted, “I don’t run every possible scenario. I make an educated guess, if you will, based on what I think would work the best and kind of work backwards from there. I guess…” He smiled a little sheepishly. “…I guess I do get a little lucky as most of my manipulation ideas work out within the first or second try.”

  “I don’t believe in luck,” said Maximos with a gleam in his eye. “I believe in gifts. And you, James, are very gifted.”

  “I’m just trying to do my part, sir.”

  “And that’s exactly why I’ve wrangled you in. I mean, look around. Everywhere we turn there are economic disasters, terrorism, chaos, destruction, death, and still nothing is being done about it. Governments, United Nations, G 7, G 20, even religion—none of them can do anything but talk. They’re all a farce and a disappointment to the human race. But you and I, James, we have the vision, the talents, and the means to change the world and bring it back to paradise.”

  James nodded his head thoughtfully. “When the GED loan was secured for my country last year,” he said, “that was our lifeline. This company saved us out of debt slavery and created opportunity for social, medical, and economic developments. Hand in hand with CellSens and their technological advancements, for the first time in hundreds of years, my country prospered. My people prospered. And if I could help bring that kind of prosperity to other countries—countries broken by war, poverty, foreign exploitation and neglect—I would consider it the greatest use that my talents, my hands, could ever be put to.”

  A lustering sheen reflected off Maximos’ straight, white teeth as he flashed his widest smile yet. Then, elegantly rising from his perch, he motioned to James, “Come with me. I’d like to show you something.”

  James followed him to the window-lined north wall, from which a curious bronze node brandishing the GED logo protruded like some kind of over-sized doorknob. Without hesitating, Maximos pressed it backward into what James assumed was a sheath in the glass. The clear wall began to slide apart, and James, expecting to find the outside balcony, was shocked when he saw before him a highly-decorated, walled-in room.

  “How…?” James looked back and forth between the clear glass walls revealing the outside city and the contradictory solid room just behind them.

  Maximos chuckled. “The walls of my office are not windows, but screens which can project any image I want. Usually, I find being surrounded by the cityscape keeps me the most productive. But sometimes, you just can’t beat seeing the real thing. Come on, the balcony is this way.”

  He glided into the hidden room, which James immediately noticed seemed oddly designed— looking similar to a jigsaw puzzle piece with large square and round cut-outs and niches. Even more intriguing than the layout of its walls, however, were the so-called ornaments hanging upon them. Thick wrought-iron brackets hung heavily throughout the space, supporting many strange objects. Some were holding large, flat, pressed-gold façades depicting patterns of ancient symbols which James didn’t recognize. Hosted upon other brackets were heavy-looking chains from which dangled head-sized, forged-metal shapes—circles, squares, moons and stars, and some he couldn’t quite determine except as being twisted shapes of dark metal and shadow. A fleeting thought shot across James’ mind that these strange chains would do very well for a giant’s charm bracelet. He allowed his lips a slight rise at the absurd thought and continued his perusal. Thick, black, ancient metal seemed to be the main theme of this room’s décor. While passing candleholders with daunting spikes, eerie shackles, and even several bejeweled weapons, James was almost surprised not to see any Iron Maidens or torture cages from the Dark Ages lurking in the corners. No doubt these were all genuine artifacts, and though the mysterious collection didn’t suit his own tastes, James was impressed by the exhibit in general.

  Looking ahead, he saw that Maximos had already reached the balcony and was waiting for him. Peeling his eyes off the macabre, yet, captivating pieces, James quickened his pace across the room and stepped out into the breezy night air, looking with awe and admiration at the glowing city sprawled out beneath them.

  “The future is waiting for us, James.” Maximos’ voice cut through the wind, “Waiting for us to get our act together.”

  “These lights,” he said, as he made a sweeping gesture across the horizon, “have always symbolized hope to me. Hope that every nation can be saved, and every people can be elevated to the level of equality and respect that all human beings deserve. And with you, on our team, James, I know that that hope will soon become a reality.”

  With a sincere look, he extended his hand and met James’ eyes. Unlike Cyndi Pale’s gaze, which usually revealed nothing, Maximos’ eyes were bursting with communication. Trust, understanding, hope, sincerity, and promises all spilled forth in a symphony of invitation. This wasn’t just a job he was offering. It was a purpose, a life’s work. And Maximos wanted to know he could count on James to see it through.

  More so than he had felt all day, James was certain of his choice. Standing firm, he answered Maximos’ gaze with a silent promise of his own and clasped his hand in agreement.

  Chapter 33

  Being certain that their newest executive was safely in the elevator and on his way down before making her appearance, Cyndi Pale stepped from the shadows of Maximos’ office and waited in silence. Maximos had returned to his desk and was browsing a computer screen in front of him.

  Without glancing up, he spoke out in a dulcet tone.

  “I like this one. He is very eager, and his eyes hide no lies.”

  Cyndi just nodded, not taken in by his tone. She had been here long enough to know there was always a hard edge of steel lurking somewhere beneath the velvet timbre.

  “He could prove very useful,” Maximos went on, “if his loyalty remains secure.” His emphasis on the word “loyalty” reminded Cyndi of a clerk forcefully employing a heavy, metal stamp.

  He looked at her then; his hard eyes flickering with the light from his screen.

  Cyndi felt her heart sputter under the intense gaze but managed to speak out in a confident voice. “I have everything under control,
sir.”

  “Everything always is under control, until it is out of control.” His cool, smooth words contradicted his hard-set jaw.

  “He won’t get out of control,” she assured.

  “Good, good.” Maximos’ face relaxed and returned to his screen. “Because I’d hate to think of what consequences might arise should you fail in your new responsibilities.”

  Cyndi replied only with a curt nod. A signal of her acquiescence and complete comprehension of his words.

  Chapter 34

  The city of Brussels disappeared into the vast landscape as quickly as it had come into view just 24 hours before. James kept a lingering eye on its shrinking frame until it had completely disappeared into the indecipherable horizon. He sighed quietly. It was going to be a long nine hours, and somehow he doubted there would be much in-flight entertainment. Maybe he would at least be able to get some rest. Then again—based on what he’d witnessed so far—“rest” was probably something that didn’t happen around here too often. But he supposed I’m no stranger to that. He looked again at the bold azure sky—quite different from the pale sky blue it had been from the ground—and imagined it an ocean - an ocean of opportunities. Methodically, he ran some numbers though his head—namely his new salary and potential bonuses. It was more than he had ever dreamed of; and he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with it. There were so many options; lavish it on his family, give some to his friends, support good causes, and invest in projects. It made his heart swell, and his mind boggle. Forcing himself to leave it for now, he turned from the window of the ascending plane toward the seat facing him. Its occupant seemed to take no notice of him as she worked busily on the laptop in front of her. Her dress was dark blue today; and her hair…she had changed the style. Yesterday’s loose ringlets had been straightened and lay in flat, smooth layers against her neck and shoulders. It was a fashionable look, James thought. Did she hire a professional stylist to help her get ready for work each day, or did she do all her primping by herself—