Executive: A Thriller

by Leslie Wolfe

  Murmurs filled the room.

  "I know you have heard this announcement before, and nothing happened. Let me explain a few things. First and foremost, this company has been my life, my passion, and my dream. It is difficult for me to bring to fulfillment the idea of separating myself from it. Therefore, in the recent past, I have tried to do this a couple of times, yet unsuccessfully. This time it's different. For family reasons, I will no longer be able to procrastinate on this task . . . I must retire as soon as I can and dedicate much more time to my family."

  Another wave of murmurs came and went.

  "In the months to follow, we must work together with the board of directors to ensure a smooth transition of ownership, control, and leadership that will follow at the end of this year. I will be communicating my decision to the board at our quarterly meeting in July. Does anyone have any questions?"

  A tense silence, then someone in the back of the room raised his hand.

  "Is this decision related to the drone incident in Florida?"

  "Not directly," Dr. Barnaby answered calmly. "I have promised my wife I would spend our golden years with her in some peaceful place. My work has taken a tremendous toll on our family life. Now is the time for us to catch up on all the things we wanted to do in this life and never had time for. Why now? Unfortunately, my wife's health is deteriorating . . . I am now pressed for time. However, regarding the drone incident connection I said 'not directly,' because I think the time has come for a younger leader to take over the reins of this company and make sure he or she steers the company clear of all potential problems."

  Another hand rose in the back.

  "What are your thoughts about the Florida drone incident? How will this affect us?"

  "It's hard to say at this time. We don't even know if it was one of our products. Our liaisons are working to get this information. If it is indeed one of ours, we are to expect an inquiry into the causes of this unfortunate incident. Please count on my full commitment and dedication to ensure we get to the bottom of this and figure out everything there is to know about what might have caused this tragedy. We will leave no stone unturned, and no question unanswered."

  "Are you concerned at all with how the press will perceive the timing of your exit, vis-à-vis the Florida incident?"

  "To some extent it is like a controlled detonation. If my exit will take the heat off the company to even the smallest degree, I would rather have the press think there is a correlation. You, however, know this was not the decision point in this case, as I have planned twice before to sell my shares and retire, but I just couldn't break away."

  "How are we addressing the media questions at this time?" This question came from a familiar face—Peter Wilson from Six Sigma, one of Walker's nodding enablers.

  "We have secured the services of one of the most powerful public relations agencies in this country, Leesman & Koch."

  The mention of this well-known name brought a wave of appreciative whispers from the executive group. Leesman & Koch had earned a solid reputation assisting various politicians to weather corruption or lewdness scandals; handholding movie stars through bail hearings, parole hearings, and rehab trips; and managing the media angle of several presidential election campaigns.

  "Leesman & Koch is top dollar, but worth every dime. We are fortunate to have them on our side through this, and they will work to get us trained on how to handle media questions. Expect media training appointments to start appearing on your calendars as of today. Please plan to attend. In the meantime, they have advised me to ask you not to speak with the media at all. Please do not answer any questions, even those that might appear harmless. Defer all media inquiries to our new PR office, the extension is on the Intranet. Please instruct your teams to do the same."

  "Going back to your retirement, sir. Who are we allowed to discuss this with?" A young, pale man in the third row asked the question without raising his hand.

  "For now, this is executive insider information only. Do not discuss this with your teams and definitely not with the media. If this leaks out before the time has come to file paperwork with the SEC and announce it to the markets in a well-orchestrated media campaign, it could bring this company to its knees. It could destroy us. So please do not discuss this with anyone whatsoever."

  Another hand rose from the middle of the crowd.

  "Will this change of control bring a restructuring of the company's leadership?"

  "There is no way anyone can estimate what changes the new leadership will bring, because we don't even know who the new leaders will be. However, in most change-of-control situations, the new leaders rethink the organizational chart to match their goals. So, yes, the new leadership will, most likely, make changes to the leadership team."

  A wave of concerned chatter rose abruptly.

  "I wouldn't let this affect your current work," Dr. Barnaby continued, "or scare you away from working at NanoLance. Not all change is bad, you know. For some, it could mean promotions, for others, new challenges and opportunities."

  "Then, what are the next steps for us?" Someone seated behind Alex, on the third row, asked in a hesitant voice.

  "We will prepare for two important challenges: the aftermath of the Florida incident and the change of control. I will have meetings with you and help you work through both issues. I'm sure we all are quite anxious to put both issues to rest with the best possible outcomes, so you will see, in the next few days, the first steps of an action plan aimed to deliver exactly that. In the meantime, though, the most important thing you need to remember is to keep everything we discussed here today strictly confidential." Dr. Barnaby paused for a minute, waiting for additional questions. None came.

  "Thank you all for coming; enjoy the rest of your day."

  The attendees rose and began to disperse, Alex trailing behind the crowd. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and turned.

  "Please join me for a couple of minutes; there is something I'd like to talk to you about," Benjamin Walker said.

  ...43

  ...Tuesday, June 29, 9:32AM

  ...NanoLance HQ—Operations Floor

  ...San Diego, California

  Alex followed Walker into his office, blood rushing to her cheeks, and adrenaline churning her stomach. Had she done something wrong? Had she tipped her hand somehow? Racing thoughts were speeding by, in a desperate effort to anticipate what this conversation might be about. She remembered clearly how easily Walker could inflict psychological pain; she had seen him casually turn the vice president of manufacturing, John Dunwood, into a trembling, disarticulate wreck, in just minutes. She sat where Walker indicated with his finger.

  He closed his office door and got right to business.

  "Who exactly are you, Miss Hoffmann?"

  "Huh?" Surprised, Alex tried to gather her thoughts. What would prompt Walker to ask her that question?

  "Yes, you heard me, who are you?" Walker pressed on.

  "How do you mean?" Alex asked, slowly but surely regaining her cool. He was just another mean bastard, and she was not going to let her intimidate and bully her as he had Dunwood.

  "I've been watching you, since you came here, and there's definitely something off about you."

  Oh, God, Alex thought, I'm blown out of the water. That didn't even take long.

  "I still don't get it," she probed, mimicking surprise. Tom had taught her to stand up to a bully, or if need be, even bully the bully. He had said that most of the times it worked. She hoped this was going to be one of those times.

  "You are not affected by anything that affects the rest of us. You're watching us just as much as I'm watching you." Walker stopped, expecting an explanation.

  "Who's us? Who do you think I'm watching?" She continued her line of questioning, causing Walker to frown.

  "Today, in the executive meeting, you were carefully studying the reactions of everyone present. In my operations meeting, you were undisturbed, just like watching a game on TV."


  "And this is wrong why, exactly?" Alex pressed back.

  "Even now, you see?" Walker said, his anger rising and his clenched fist finding its way to the desk's innocent surface. "You are not intimidated by me at all. You are . . . unafraid. This is not normal."

  "Ah, I see how that can bother you," Alex said, at the risk of being rude, thinking just how wrong he was.

  "Unbelievable," Walker responded, riddled with anger. "So, who are you exactly? Why were you studying the reactions of everyone in there today?"

  Alex realized she wasn't going to get away without providing explanations. She constructed her explanations carefully, making sure they sounded plausible enough.

  "I am new here, as you might have noted. I'm learning about the company's culture, from people's reactions. Some of the things happening around me are more serious than others; how can I tell which ones I should be concerned about, unless I let the reactions of my colleagues guide me?"

  "So that's what you're doing? Learning about our culture, huh?" Walker frowned some more, not buying it. "But why aren't you concerned? Everyone in my operations meeting was intimidated, except you. Even now, you're composed and fighting back, instead of fearing for your job."

  "Why do you want them to be afraid?" She pushed back, buying herself time to think. "If you knew they were intimidated, that means you are doing this on purpose, and I can't see why. Fear stifles growth and creativity."

  "I'm not running a kindergarten here, where all kids have to be happy and tell nice stories about it when they get home. I run a business, a complicated business that needs to make me lots of money. No one gives performance, unless they're pushed. No one gets to come to me and say goals can't be achieved, or the job can't be done. If they do, I get someone else in their place who can do the job. Why the hell am I explaining myself to you, instead of you to me?" Walker resumed his angry outburst, raising his voice to thunderous levels. "You still didn't tell me why you're not intimidated, or compelled to change your relaxed demeanor to a more focused or concerned one. So?"

  "First, again, I am new, so I don't have a lot invested in this company. If I were to lose this job today, it wouldn't mean a big emotional loss for me. If you were to fire me now, I wouldn't even list this company on my résumé. Second, I'm financially secure," she said, humorously thinking of The Agency's credit card, the one with the unknown spending limit, hoping this stunt would work.

  "Ah, you're rich!" Walker said, clapping his hands. "How unfortunate."

  "I wouldn't call myself rich," Alex clarified.

  "Then what?"

  "Financially secure. If I don't have to work for a while, I can be all right."

  "Still unfortunate. I have no use for people who can't be pushed as hard as they need to be pushed to be successful here."

  "Well, I don't work for you. I work for Sheppard," Alex said bluntly.

  "How wrong you are. You report to Sheppard, but you work for me. What else do you think you were doing in my operations meetings? You are my support person for infrastructure. Without my say-so, you won't even make it past your ninety-day review. Considering how financially secure you are, you probably won't make it anyway."

  "Why would you say that?"

  "Because I am going to push you, as hard as I can, and being that you're so damn financially secure, you'll walk out of here on your own, before I even get the pleasure of firing you."

  "I love a challenge," Alex said, with a crooked smile, "I'll think I'll stay for a while."

  "Be careful what you wish for," Walker concluded.

  She stepped out of Walker's office, allowing herself to breathe again. She was hoping this explanation had put his mind at ease, at least for a while. Very perceptive, this son-of-a-bitch Walker. Gotta be super careful around him, she warned herself, heading toward her own office on the third floor.

  "Hey, I was looking all over for you," Louie Blake, her analyst, said cheerfully. "Where have you been all day?"

  "Around," she said casually. "What's going on?"

  "I was trying to get you set up on the printers," he said, following her into her office. "You need to log into your laptop, so I can map the printers." He stood there, waiting for her to put in her password.

  She looked down at her laptop and cringed. The clone laptop was on her desk, not the official NanoLance one. She quickly balanced her options. Sending Louie for coffee would not work; she had her own coffeemaker hidden in her closet, and he knew about it. What else could she ask him to do, to get him out of her office long enough to get the two laptops switched? She opted for a different approach: stalling.

  "I was just heading out again, Louie, but thanks."

  "How about your printers?"

  "Louie," she said, with humor in her voice, as she was leaving, "are you a good techie?"

  "Yes, ma'am!" Louie replied, executing a perfect military salute.

  "Then why don't you go ahead and hack into my laptop and get the job done?" she said, laughing out loud.

  "Ha, that's a good one," Louie said, exiting her office and laughing as he walked away.

  She breathed easy again, heading for the smoker's area. He wasn't going to come anywhere near her laptop. He wasn't going to hack into anything. After all, it was illegal.

  Passing through the large, sun-filled atrium on the way to the rear exit, she checked out the long line in front of the coffee shop. She was looking for familiar faces of interest, someone with whom she could discuss the announcement regarding the sale of the stock and the upcoming change in company ownership.

  Outside Alex's line of sight, on the other side of the café, through the tinted windows facing the parking lot, a gray sedan became visible, pulling behind Alex's car. The man behind the wheel stepped out and looked briefly around, to see if anyone was paying attention. Satisfied with his observations, he pulled a small camera from his pocket and started taking pictures of Alex's car. Full front. Full right side. Full left side, with some difficulty, because the car parked next to it had parked too close. Full back. Close-up shot of both license plates, back and front. Once the job was done, the man climbed back in his car and drove away.

  ...44

  ...Tuesday, June 29, 11:00AM

  ...News of the Hour, Special Edition Report

  ...Nationally Syndicated

  "A few days have passed since tragedy hit, when a bus, carrying thirty-three passengers plus the driver, and a car with two more unsuspecting victims, were abruptly stopped by a collision with a military drone. Twenty lives were lost on Highway 98 near Gulf Breeze, Florida, last Friday; sixteen more victims are fighting for their lives at nearby hospitals. And yet, despite the staggering dimensions of this tragedy, today there are more questions than answers."

  A short pause in Stephanie Wainwright's report, and the camera zoomed out and engulfed the entire scene of the incident. Reminding the viewer more of a war zone, the blocked highway was still covered with dried blood, debris, spilled motor oil, flame-suppressing fluids, along with smoke stains and ash from the fire that had engulfed the vehicles following the collision with the drone.

  The camera refocused on Stephanie.

  "What we do know is that the drone was coming in for landing at Mackenzie Air Field, just across the highway. The UAV was coming from the south, moving over the Gulf waters, and was supposed to cross the highway at a safe altitude, then descend and land safely at the air base. Mackenzie is an Air Force base; the death drone also belonged to the Air Force. However, the Air Force is yet to provide the public with details into its inquiry. So far, the military has only shared a press statement with the media, expressing its commitment to investigate this incident in detail and examine all causes that led to this tragedy."

  Another pause in the voiceover, the camera showing the panoramic view of the air base behind the highway to the north.

  "The question the Air Force will need to answer is this: Was it a pilot error? Or did the drone malfunction somehow? For those of you who might be surprised at the q
uestions I have just mentioned, yes, these drones have pilots, but not onboard the actual aircraft.

  "The drones were developed to reduce the cost of military aircraft and the associated loss of equipment, when an aircraft is shot down in enemy land. They were designed to preserve the lives and freedom of our pilots, keeping them safe and out of harm's way, during aerial reconnaissance or combat missions. Therefore, these drones are being flown with the assistance of remotely located pilots, who operate the drones just as they operate any traditional aircraft. Many countries in the world have increased the use of drones, instead of traditional crewed aircraft, like the one you see taking off behind me from Mackenzie Air Field."

  The roar of a military jet taking off forced Stephanie to stop talking. When the roar of the jet died down, she continued.

  "The use of drones, the array of applications for unmanned aircraft has increased exponentially in the past few years. From highly experimental in the 1990s, now we are seeing unmanned aerial vehicles, or UAVs, serving a wide variety of purposes, mostly with military applications, but also some civilian purposes. A cheaper, more expendable, more fuel-efficient alternative to the traditional fighter jet, these drones are equally capable of recon missions and launching missiles on predetermined targets.

  "But are they safe enough? Over time, we have seen a couple of drone-related incidents, causing loss of lives. In April, there was a friendly fire incident in Afghanistan, where a Canadian unit reportedly came under attack from a drone wearing American markings. Four Canadian lives were lost; more soldiers were wounded. So far, no official finding was released in this case.

  "Another incident took place in a hot zone in the Middle East, but even less information was made public about it. This incident was only reported in the local media, which blamed a drone for the loss of several civilian lives somewhere in Iraq, near the small city of Karbala. The Air Force, which had a presence there at the time, refused to comment on the alleged incident, calling it unconfirmed."