Jonathan grinned. “Yes,” he said, chuckling. “Yes it does. Thank you, Tammy. Please keep me informed as you get more information.”
Tammy clasped her hands, shoulders squared, head tilted like she was posing for a camera. “I sure will.”
Jonathan turned toward his CFO. “Okay, Phil, how are we looking for the quarter?”
The chief financial officer thumbed through a handful of papers. His normally dark, well-trimmed hair knotted out of his head like a squirrel’s nest. “Obviously, we’re going to be lower than our previous guidance. Of course, you already know that. But outside of the one-time charge of strike production loss, the benefit payouts and other related expenses, we should come into next year looking pretty good. I’m confident we may find ourselves with a dividend of a dollar twenty, which is a nickel higher than last year’s first quarter.”
Jonathan nodded. “Thanks, Phil.” He then turned to Thomas Radisson. “How about our temporary employees, Tom? Do we have anything lined up there? We have a rig and refinery losing money every day they’re not staffed. And by the way, what ever happened to the temps in Ontario?”
Tom’s eyes looked smug, narrow, glaring at Jonathan. He threw his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, arrogance crawling all over his face. “Well, Jon, as of right now, no one knows what’s happened to the temps in Chapleaux. They’re incognito.” His eyes lifted as he sipped from a black mug. “The maintenance service out of Texas is sending another group out. Should be there in about another week.” He rolled his eyes dispassionately. “As far as Grande Isle is concerned, the temps are already there. They’re just getting acclimated to the system. I expect to see full production in about two to three weeks.”
Jonathan continued with his line of questioning. He heard reports from his VP of Distribution, VP of Production, VP of Research and Development and so on. He concluded with a brief pep talk concerning yearly bonuses.
After the morning meeting, after everyone had left the room, Thomas approached Jonathan, brow furrowed, forehead wrinkled. He lifted one leg and sat on the edge of the table. Jonathan sat in his chair gathering his reports.
“What the hell was that?” barked Thomas.
Jonathan looked up and paused. “What are you talking about?”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “You know, the way you asked me those questions. I was the only one that you spoke to with a negative tone!”
Jonathan sighed and rubbed his eyes and thought for a brief moment. “I’m just a little frustrated.” He looked into the hallway and then lowered his voice. “It’s this Caesar thing, Tom. I don’t think it’s going to work out for me.”
Thomas laughed, slapping his left hand on the table. “Oh, come on! Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You’re the CEO of a multinational oil firm, for God’s sake! Where did you think your life was headed? You have a lot of power, Jon, and there are others who intend to use it.”
Jonathan rolled his chair back, opening his personal space. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No,” said Thomas. “I’m dead serious!” His eyes and jaw hardened, teeth grinding. “I don’t know what your problem is, Jon, but you better get your head out your ass. You’re part of a brotherhood and it is very real! So don’t get pissed at me!” Pointing his finger at himself and then turning it back at Jonathan. “In fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret to show you the depth of our knowledge.”
“Whatever.” Jonathan stood up and started to walk away.
Thomas grabbed Jonathan’s arm, stopping him abruptly, inches from his face. The chair wheels rolled until the back hit the table.
“Listen to me, Jon. One of those union guys is on his way here to kill you. You can take it for what it’s worth, but I’ve got security on high alert to cover your ass. So when you go home tonight, you can thank Caesar for keeping you alive. How ’bout that? Does that piss you off?”
“That’s your secret?” Jonathan jerked his arm away from Thomas’s grasp. “When were you going to tell me?”
Thomas shrugged his shoulders. Jonathan straightened his tie.
“Listen, Tom, I’m not going to treat you differently than anyone else here. So you can get off your empirical high horse! I’m still the CEO and you’re still a VP!” Jonathan took a deep breath and brushed his coat smooth. “Besides…how in the hell do you know someone’s going to kill me?”
“I can’t tell you how I know. You’re still in the process of indoctrination. His name’s Blake Driscole. He’s been with us for over twenty years.”
Jonathan groaned and began to walk nervously around the conference table. “Why does he want to kill me ? Like I had anything to do with the explosion!”
Thomas walked toward the door and slowly closed the thick plank of wood. “You’re so naïve, Jon!” He turned and walked back toward the table. “They all think that you’re responsible! Hell, I’m surprised there aren’t more of them marching up here with picks and axes. Jesus! If you could just listen to yourself!” Thomas pulled up a chair, sat down and put his feet on the conference table, fingers linked behind his head. “The truth is, the workers in Grande Isle and Chapleaux see right through our PR campaign. And now, we’ve got a renegade oilman on his way here to take his frustrations out on you.”
Thomas reached into his coat and pulled out a cigar, cut the tip and lit it with his crocodile-skin S.T. Dupont combination kit. He puffed out a billow of smoke, pulled the cigar away from his mouth and said, “The truth is, Caesar had them killed. Caesar had them all killed. But it has nothing to do with PPI, or you, or any of those hicks in Grande Isle or Chapleaux!”
Jonathan’s jaw dropped. He rested his hands on the table, keeping his body from collapsing.
Thomas flicked his hand, cigar dangling from his fingers. “Oh, don’t get nervous. All you need to know is we had an unfortunate series of accidents, and we’re moving forward from this point on. That’s it. That’s all that matters. And now that you’re in the club, you’re safe. This is your dirty little secret as much as it is mine.” Thomas stood up and walked up to Jonathan and pointed at his chest. “You need to understand that Caesar has an agenda, and we were asked to comply; end of story. But don’t worry,; they have us covered. This kind of thing happens all the time, nothing to be concerned about.”
Jon walked past Thomas, anxiously pacing in circles, his hands running through his hair. What the hell is going on here? he thought. How did I get wrapped up in all this shit? He stopped walking and asked, “Why in the hell did you bring me into this?” He continued pacing, wringing his hands.
“Whoa, whoa…wait a minute,” said Thomas, chasing Jonathan down. “Before you go pointing your finger at me, you need to understand the bigger picture here. First of all, I didn’t pick you to be a part of Caesar. They picked you. If I had my way, I’d be on the fast track to becoming the CEO of a much cleaner corporation. But that isn’t part of the plan. The big picture is irrelevant to you as an individual. So, get off your high horse, Jon, because it’s not about you. This is not about oil. It’s about control and power. Don’t you get it, Jon? Don’t you realize that we could monopolize this business and set the price of oil at whatever we wanted, if it was just about oil? But it’s not. It’s just a matter of policy.”
Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t understand. I thought we were in the oil business, Tom. But if we’re not, I’d really like to know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Thomas pulled out one of the chairs and sat down again. “All right! Here we go. Let’s put all the cards on the table.”
Jonathan sat down beside Thomas and rested his elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”
Thomas looked at Jonathan, his hand waving a friendly gesturing. “Jon, you came from oil, so I certainly appreciate your unique perspective. But what’s going on beneath the surface of our business, government, telecommunications, the media and other global industries has very little to do with l
ife as you know it. These businesses are used as profit centers; I’ll give you that. They generate income and wealth. That’s basically what they’re supposed to do. But what you don’t understand is that PPI and many of the world’s global corporations are primarily owned by a very select group of investors who have an agenda. The members of Caesar and other groups like them have a plan, a vision if you will, for the future. And like any business owner, they are intent on using their resources as a means to attain their goals and see that vision fulfilled.”
“What exactly is the vision?”
“The vision is for us, Caesar, to attain security, authority, power, unity, wealth and control. It’s part of a global mission to create an empire that’s finally secure, with ultimate authority and power, by creating unity throughout mankind, through controlled circumstances.” Thomas rolled a pencil between his fingers, tapping it on the table.
“In order to gain that level of control, the entire global population must be united in purpose both economically and politically. It’s quite a daunting task. That’s where Caesar and our global partners come in. We’re working to rebuild Rome; a Rome that will stand forever without boundaries and without enemies. We’re building an empire that will equal the playing field for all mankind, an empire that spans the globe and can be easily controlled with one economy and modern technology.
“Why do you think we’re in New York, Jon? This is the center of the empire.”
Jonathan cocked his head, confused.
“The Empire State. You drive by the building every day. Didn’t you ever wonder where the name came from? Did you ever consider the possibility of a global empire rising up from this city?” Thomas sat back and the cushion squeezed out a puff of air. “Like it or not, it will happen. And it’ll happen soon. But you have to understand; there will be turmoil, resistance and a global crisis beyond anything you could ever imagine. What happened with PPI is simply part of the cost. And anything worth anything is never free.”
“So this has all been choreographed—manipulated?”
Answering with a straight face, Thomas replied, “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. And it isn’t just happening with us. It’s happening all over New York, the East Coast, West Coast, Canada, Europe and Asia. Globalism and the new world order are on the plate of every national agenda. Very few people are aware of the secret meetings and closed-door societies that rule the European Union, United Nations and NATO. However, as the idea of globalism becomes increasingly mainstream, you will start to see these investments come to fruition.
“Obviously, the American public is unaware of our plan, with the exception of the fringe conspiracy theorists. We’ve been dumbing them down for decades. And I must say the media has done a bang-up job at ridiculing anyone who even suggests that conspiracies exist.”
Jonathan’s heart crumbled. “Thomas…I…I don’t know what to say. This is completely insane. Completely narcissistic…it’s so far out there I don’t even know where to begin…I…” He turned his eyes down. “If you hadn’t exposed me to Caesar, I would’ve thought you were schizophrenic! But… you’re telling me the truth…aren’t you?” He looked up, stood still, frozen. “I can’t believe you’ve pulled me into this treasonous plot! God help us!”
Emotionally exhausted, Jonathan finally sat down, and rested his head in his hands. After a moment, he lifted his head and asked, “So why did those folks have to die? I don’t understand that, Tom. Please explain that to me.”
Thomas sighed. “Fear, my friend. Fear. Without it, we are vulnerable. This might sound strange, but we create fear. We generate the conspiracy theories. In turn, they react out of fear, sprouting fringe, terrorist-minded organizations.”
Jonathon shook his head, puzzled by Thomas’s logic. “Why would you do that?”
“Because if we can provoke them, if we can make them hopeless, if we can rouse their anger until they choose to fight back, the notion of gun control gains credibility in the eyes of the majority, those unaffected by these minor setbacks. So we create conflict, dividing them with clashing ideologies, then through politics, and then violence.
“You see, the ultimate goal here is to develop a sense of globalism. To do that we have to break them of the concept of national patriotism, which hasn’t been too difficult, since we control the states and the states control the schools and the schools control the children. That’s why our military is looking more like a global police force year after year. In order to develop global patriotism, we need more global confrontations, worldwide aspirations for peace and an increased dependence on global assistance. Hence, bigger government, multinational banking and an ever-increasing collective nationalism.”
“What’s collective nationalism?” Jonathan asked, slumped in his chair, burdened by the weight of his new world.
“Well, I’ll put it this way: it won’t be long until NATO soldiers are walking the streets of the United States as a means of keeping order and regulating martial law. That’s how we plan to institute collective nationalism right here at home. We will simply instill a multinational police force, inject multicultural propaganda and rewrite the history books. It’ll take time, like most of the adjustments, but we’ll get it done. For example, we have Americans glued to the television and addicted to reality programming. Pretty soon Gen X, Y and Z will have forgotten what it means to be an American and what our Constitution is all about. The television programming will slowly convince them that we’re all in this together: Chinese, Canadian, French, German, et cetera. It’s a slow process, but we’ll get it done by destroying national sovereignty one generation at a time.”
“I can’t…I can’t accept it. And I won’t have any part in it.” Jonathan stood up, pushed his chair in and walked toward the door.
Thomas turned in his chair. “Believe it, Jon. You’re living it now.”
Jonathan kept walking. “No. I’m not.”
Thomas laughed and Jonathan stopped and turned back toward Thomas, sickened by his ruthlessness. “What’s so funny?”
Thomas cleared his throat, downgrading his laughter to a chuckle. “You’re in,” he said. “Or you’re dead.”
At that moment, Jonathan’s secretary peeked through the door. “Mr. Stalwart, Ms. Perkins is here for your nine o’clock appointment. She’s in your office waiting for you. Will you be much longer?”
Red-faced, boiling with anger and steaming fear, Jonathan answered, “No. We’re finished.”
Chapter 21
Another Visitor
Sarah Perkins waited in Jonathan Stalwart’s office to discuss the circumstances of the two explosions. The Feds snooping around made Jonathan paranoid. He entered his office with sweaty palms, anxious and nervous.
“Good morning, Ms. Perkins. How are you?” Jonathan pressed out a superficial smile and extended his hand. He had forgotten about the appointment, still troubled by what Thomas had said.
Smiling and dressed with navy slacks and white blouse, she grabbed Jonathan’s hand and her ATF badge dangled from her lanyard as her body stretched forward. “I’m fine, thank you!” Sarah was scanning the room. “You have a beautiful facility here, and your receptionist was so sweet. She made coffee and served muffins. And please, call me Sarah.”
“Okay. How can I help you, Sarah?”
“We need to talk about the explosions. I’m assigned to your case and I’d like to get your take on all of this. I need you to tell me what your internal investigation found.”
Jonathan made a gesture toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Sure. Please have a seat.”
They both sat down. Nervous about what to say, Jonathan managed to go over PPI’s scripted response.
“Well as you know, Grande Isle authorities have arrested their prime suspect, and Chapleaux authorities are waiting for the lab results before they name the driver of the car that crashed into the gas lines.” His face gave nothing away, chiseled into a controlled and concerned leader. “We’ve given the authorities our
full cooperation, and continue to offer our support and condolences to the families of the victims.”
Sarah smiled, leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, hands folded. “Come on now, Mr. Stalwart. Do you expect me to believe that? I’ve heard that already. Do you think I came here to hear what they’re saying on television? I came here to find out what you think. I came here to see if there is anything you know that was somehow missed by the local authorities in either location.”
Jonathan sat, silently wondering how to answer. Of course I know something. I know everything. But I ca—
“So was there?”
“Uh…well…no,” stuttered Jonathan. “That’s about it. We’re just as mystified as everyone else. It’s statistically improbable. But we have to deal with it as best we can, and move—”
Sarah interrupted him again, leaning closer still. “Listen, Jonathan; I know that sometimes things don’t make sense. But if there’s anything that you can think of that doesn’t fit, or add up, it just might help me find out who’s responsible.”
“Well…I…”
“It’s okay, Mr. Stalwart. I’ve heard it all before. There’s no need for you to feel uncomfortable here.”
Jonathan’s phone rang. Jonathan was thankful for the interruption. He put it on speakerphone and answered, “Yes?”
Jonathan’s secretary replied, “Security just called. They said there’s some wacko in the lobby raving mad. They said he’s swearing and screaming about corruption, and how PPI killed all those people in Chapleaux. He sounds crazy!”
Killing the Giants Page 10