ATLANTA, GEORGIA - It was approaching nine in the evening, and the conference room table was strewn with empty Starbucks coffee cups, remnants of a Chinese takeout order and empty soda cans.
Jack Newman sat half slouched in the executive-style chair at the head of the table, unconsciously spinning his Monte Blanc around to the mild annoyance of some in the room. What began as a sharp-looking business executive at five that morning was now a disheveled mess: unbuttoned collar, missing tie, wrinkled white shirt and rolled up sleeves.
Gathered around the conference room table, most also slumped in their chairs, sat Jack's team. To the President’s immediate right was his personal secretary, Ingrid Tisdale, with a notepad and pen in hand taking the minutes of the meeting in shorthand, a laptop at her elbow. Ingrid was a petite, silver-haired woman who remained youthful looking for someone seventy-seven years old. The southern bell with tons of southern charm had been with him and Victor since the company’s inception in the early eighties. Ingrid had become a millionaire twice over through stock options, but the secretary never thought about retirement. Ingrid was always heard saying that it was being around the energetic, crazy people at MEI that kept her young at heart and sprightly in appearance. That was Ingrid Tisdale.
One chair removed from Jack's secretary sat Pete Niven, facing the view of downtown Atlanta. Pete sat leaning forward, his chin propped up on the palm of his hand, his arm supported by the table top, a cold cup of coffee sitting just in front of him. Pete arrived earlier that day from a trip to Asia, so his internal clock was not yet adjusted to the time difference, and his body was letting him know. Pete was tall, thin with reddish-blonde hair and had an innocent, almost childish charm about him, which often surfaced in these late night sessions.
Sitting perfectly erect in her chair across from Pete's was Executive Advisor, Katharine (Kate) Tate. Kate was a longtime business associate, advising Jack on matters surrounding acquisitions; she was a nearly irresistible blonde who caused most men's hearts to go pitter patter. Kate was, however, not attracted to the opposite persuasion, but that never prevented her from using her charms to get what she wanted. Kate was one of the group that was every time annoyed by the President’s mindless pen spinning, but she recognized after countless forums his actions were a sign he was reaching the end of his mental endurance. Kate also knew Jack would stop the annoying behavior when discussions moved on to the publishers.
Taking up three of the other chairs around the table were seated the rest of Jack’s team: Benjamin Jordan, Thomas Phillips and Anne Dopson. All three were involved in the acquisitions side of the house. All three were relative newcomers having been with the company four, five and five years, respectively.
"Ingrid, what's last on tonight’s agenda?" the MEI President asked, already aware of the answer.
"General discussions surrounding the acquisition of an existing news enterprise."
“Okay then. Kate, what has your team uncovered?”
Pulling a report from her valise, Kate flipped through the first series of pages.
"This report came in late today. I’ve only had a chance to skim through it. Ingrid, the report is out on the executive server in the subdirectory: ‘News.’ The name of the report is ‘news0423.’”
“I’ll see that everyone is copied, Kate.”
“Thank you, Ingrid.” Kate kept on without missing a beat. “My team has begun investigating the three owners: Donald Abraham of World News Network, Shmuel Weisser of American News and Jason Simon of World Tribune. Included in the report are several detailed interviews with people who have had some experience in dealing with each owner, including a handful of politicians.
“The publishers are referred to as ‘The Big Three’ up in Washington and it appears for good reason. The three families: the Abraham’s, the Weisser’s, the Simon’s, all combined control nearly seventy percent of the market in this nation. Their combined newsprint, cable and broadcast operations account for roughly eighty-three percent of all domestic consumption. The market generates roughly fifty-six billion a year, largely through advertising sales. Just under two-hundred thousand people are either directly, or indirectly employed by the three men."
“Can you explain those figures again? Eighty-three percent of what?” asked Ben Jordan. “Wait a second, it’s late. Kate, if you’re going to be running through some numbers I’d like to be able to see them. It will make more sense.”
Kate nodded. “Ingrid, would you be so kind as to print some copies out for us.”
Jack’s assistant popped open the lid to her laptop while responding, “Yes, of course Ms. Tate.” Ingrid keyed in a series of keystrokes. “I’d be happy to.”
Ingrid was always at the top of her game no matter what the hour.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
“Anyone need a break?” asked Jack who had temporarily ceased the mindless pen spinning, only to begin again to Kate’s annoyance.
The response was near unanimous. “Yes!”
The conference room quickly cleared out as everyone began making their way to the coffee machine, or restrooms. Casual, lighthearted conversation ranged from kids in college, to the headaches of building a new home, to predictions of who would win the upcoming BCS Championship: the Florida Gators or Nebraska Cornhuskers.
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AZERBAIJAN PROVINCE, IRAN - It was midday as the Special Activities Division officers watched the approaching convoy an informant had said were carrying a shipment of Chinese ground-to-air missiles. The destination was thought to be a terrorist training camp and principal staging area for raids into Iraq.
As for most missions, the team had selected a remote mountainous region in which to carry out the interception. The rocky terrain continued well into Iraq and was ideally suited for trafficking terrorists and contraband into that country; it, however, worked both ways.
This was to be a hit-and-run mission using something just introduced into the SAD arsenal: a thermobaric-tipped, man-portable missile system. To date, the Iranian response had proven to be ineffective. To counter the American’s success, the Quds Force had added armored support to convoys.
Marcus smiled as he peered down from his steep, rocky perch at the pair of older, Russian-built BMP-70 armored personnel carriers as they entered the confined valley floor below. The only real threat his team faced was the Iranian Air Force. They could be a nasty surprise and nix any chance for he and his team being airlifted out following the attack.
Marcus took a rapid look about him, somewhere among the rocks and boulders his team lay in hiding, blending in so perfectly even he could not make out their positions.
That active camouflage was worth every penny, Marcus thought.
Marcus pressed the contact in his ear. “Hunter, are you ready to call in countermeasures?”
“I’m on top of it, Marcus,” came Hunter’s voice over his headset.
Marcus watched as the leading APC passed below his position; he could make out the driver and gunner through the OSV-96 scope. The turret-mounted 25-mm cannon was trained ninety degrees to the right.
Good, wrong direction, Marcus thought.
The turret would be where he would concentrate the armor piercing, high-explosive penetrators first.
Marcus scanned the scope over onto the two soft-skin transports.
It will be interesting to see how well that new warhead performs.
Marcus now looked at the second armored vehicle bringing up the rear. The cannon was trained ninety degrees to the left, and would be the first to let loose with those J-12B high-explosive rounds his team had met with before. Those damn things could be set for proximity, or impact detonation, and the shrapnel would tear a man apart.
Officer Sean Crutchfield would be taking out the transports with the rocket, Elijah the second APC. As for everyone else, they’d keep the men of foot under fire and on the defensive.
Marcus pressed the contact in his ear. “Karl,
I’ve got the lead APC. You deal with the one in the rear.”
“Roger that,” came Karl’s response over the encrypted link.
Hunter’s voice now came through. “Marcus, the electronic jamming is in progress.”
“Okay guys, let’s take them out.”
The gunner of the lead APC had no idea what hit him, the soldier was killed instantly by a large caliber projectile that lost very little of its velocity after penetrating the three-quarter inch hardened steel plate of the turret.
The squad commander at the rear of the APC had been shouting something to one of his team over the bellowing noise of the running diesel engine when he, and everyone else, was showered with blood, body parts and flying metal shrapnel. The APC lurched to a sudden stop, followed by the leader hitting the emergency release for the rear ramp; it fell open with a heavy thud.
Too soon, it turned out. The fireball hit the squad with such intensity it vaporized the epidural tissue and the shock wave; it did the rest.
The second APC faired little better. The turret gunner was similarly eliminated, as the squad commander had taken the same course of action. The Iranian officer and his squad were saved from the worst of the thermobaric blast by the frontal armor of the APC, but everyone was thrown from the cabin by the force of the shockwave. There was too little time to react; before the officer could pick himself up to engage his enemy, he took a round through the chest and died instantly. Much the same thing happened to all but two of his squad who found cover behind the APC.
The two men from Iranian Special Forces trembled in fear, and one started sobbing uncontrollably with the thought that he too was about to die. Suddenly, a heavy grey smoke descended upon them obscuring nearly everything. It was not diesel fuel burning; it was something else.
Marcus was stunned by the raw destruction the new warhead wrought on the target. The fireball, all Marcus could think to call it, engulfed the two transports with frightening results. It took a moment for his eyes to clear from a brilliant flash of light as intense as the sun’s. It took no time for the shock wave to reach him, instantly followed by a nearly overpowering blast of heat.
Nearly nothing remained of the transport, save the metal shell of the chassis. The drivers had entirely disappeared, blown to smithereens.
God, I hope they never get that weapon, Marcus thought.
Marcus scanned the length of the line convoy. There was no movement, and all threats appeared to have been taken out. Even if someone had survived, they would have been so shocked by the blast as to have not presented any threat. Just the same, Marcus gave the command to cover their tracks with smoke and as the carnage disappeared he issued the command to clear out.
Joe remarked as the team filed, single file out and up the mountainside. “When are those bastards going to learn they’re not ever going to win this fight?”
Hunter answered, “They’re too stupid to understand, Eli.”
“Stupid, or is it their ideology that prevents them from seeing the truth,” remarked Sean.
“I imagine it’s a little of both,” answered Eli.
“God help us if they ever get the bomb,” Sean now added.
“Damn if that isn’t the truth.”
----------
ATLANTA, GEORGIA - Jack, coffee mug within reach, twirled his pen around as he perused the report Ingrid had waiting for him. The numbers were astounding: the three publishers held controlling interests in ‘holding companies’ that were nothing less than small kingdoms. All but thirteen percent of the country’s news consumption was filtered through one of their holdings. If there were a weakness, it was that the news moguls had done little to diversify their interests, putting most all their eggs in one basket, the news business. The president would let Kate work through the numbers for the benefit of his team, but he could already see a trend. Each proprietor was losing money, vast sums of it in their printed media operations. They were, however, offsetting the red ink with profits coming from their cable and network operations. Jack could draw only one conclusion, he’d be wasting everyone’s time looking to acquire any one of the three news organizations; those men, the publishers, would never sellout, but he would wait. The president would wait to see if his team drew the same conclusion.
Pete was feeling a bit more lively, the caffeine having kicked in. “Well, Jack, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Okay then, Kate, where were we?”
“Numbers, we were discussing the numbers. If you take a look at section three you will see some of the figures I was referring to.”
Thomas Phillips responded after looking at some of the graphs surrounding marketshare.
“Wow, that’s what I would call clout! Those three men control over eighty percent of what is read, or seen in news!”
“Yes, Tom, thanks for clearing that up for us,” Anne Dopson added with a smirk.
Katherine kept on without giving anyone a glance. "The entire news industry appears to be going through some financial difficulties. It's reflected in the stock prices which are hovering at near all time lows for all three players."
"That sounds promising," Jack responded, stopping the spinning motion of his pen.
"Yes, and no,” Kate replied. “Let me explain. I am convinced the three news organizations we are looking at are in effect a cartel for an ideology, an oligopoly if you will.”
Crap, Jack thought, Kate saw right through the figures.
“Normally you would expect a CEO to make changes to maximize profitability. This is clearly not happening. Several studies of that industry over the last decade show very little change in the makeup and spin of the ‘Big Three’s’ coverage.”
"Can you explain what that means?" interjected Pete.
"The three news companies: World News Network, American News and World Tribune are not behaving like normal business enterprises. The owners are letting their ideology drive the impetus of their reporting and it’s evidenced by their reactions to declining advertising revenues."
"If the news publishers were serious they would cut back on their rhetoric. Study after study has shown they are losing conservative and moderate subscribers because of their political positions and yet, they continue with the status quo."
"So, that works to our favor, doesn't it?" asked Pete with a grin.
"I don't think so, Pete. In fact, I am convinced their ideology presents a problem for us in any consequential negotiations."
Jack smiled to himself. Pete was a ‘big picture’ guy, never dabbling too much in the details, but Kate… Kate could see clearly what the news moguls were doing.
"Jack, I don't believe money is going to be enough to get any one of these publishers to move on any offer we make. The power they wield in the political arena is going to get in the way. You realize this whole exercise is probably going to be a complete waste of time."
Jack understood Kate was right and that she hated to waste her time on improbable situations. It was time to explain why the exercise was necessary; it was largely driven by Victor’s desire to get into the same room with the news nobles.
"Kate, what you’re saying may be true, but this is a step we must take. Victor and I have talked this situation over at some length. Everyone should be aware that there is one more plan in the event we're unsuccessful in schmoozing one of these three publishers. If we're lucky, we will pick any one of them up which means we won't have to go through some unnecessary exercise, later on."
"I’ve got a question."
"Go ahead, Anne."
"What do you mean by 'unnecessary exercise'?"
"I'm glad you asked. Victor has an idea for a new kind of news company that will revolutionize the industry. The existing brick and mortar operations, well they won’t survive if he’s got this right...and no, I don't have any of the details. You know our commander-in-chief."
"Okay, so why buy one of the dinosaurs if they’re going to be put out to pasture anyway?”<
br />
“Ben, think about it. Why recreate the wheel if we don’t have to?”
“Okay, I get it,” replied Anne. “The employees have to be worth something, right?”
“How is that possible? They’ve all got to be diehard ideologues. I mean, we’re talking about creating a conservative news powerhouse, right?”
Kate answered Ben’s question, “Liberals yes, but needing to work all the same.”
The conversation was not tracking in the direction the president wanted things to take.
“Ah hem, let’s not get bogged down in the details for the moment. Let’s get to the more pressing matter at hand, the publishers. Kate, what have your people discovered?"
Kate had no need to refer to the report to speak to this issue, as she had taken the time to speak with several people who knew the owners personally.
"The leader of the pack is Donald Abraham, the ‘Alpha Male,’ so to speak. The publisher is acknowledged by both analysts and industry insiders as the one who usually sets the agenda for the industry. For instance, we can thank Mr. Abraham for the headway Global Warming has made the past two decades and for the real estate debacle surrounding Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.
"In the case of ‘Global Warming,’ it wasn't until WNN began promoting the theory, that man’s actions were destroying the earth, that it gained popularity. Most recently, the United Nations has jumped on the bandwagon and is pushing for a worldwide tax on carbon emissions, with Donald Abraham providing his full support.
"In the case of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, Donald’s news company has been providing the Democrat Party with the cover it's needed to keep those programs running without any real oversight. The result, worthless paper has been bought by the two state-backed institutions and that bubble was now about to burst.
"These are just two of a myriad of instances where Donald’s news company has been instrumental in propping up his personal agenda. Without question, Mr. Abraham is a diehard, New York Democrat.”
Pete added with a chuckle, "You mean liberal don't you?"
There was complete silence, and Pete glanced up to see Kate glaring at him. She was in no mood for his antics tonight.
"Just kidding, Kate. I meant to say, Abraham's more like a radical," Pete added, unaffected by her threatening stare.
Jack laughed inwardly at the interaction between the two opposite personalities, one carefree and happy-go-lucky (Pete), the other restrained and every time businesslike (Kate). Still, the chemistry between the two always seemed to work, each adding a different take on issues, helping him to see both sides of every situation.
Jack quickly spoke up before things became more heated. "So, what else did your people have to say about Mr. Abraham?"
Kate looked back to the report, flipped through a couple of pages, scanning each to maintain the cadence of the chief investigator’s thinking.
"Donald is the fifth generation to lead the family business; he attended Columbia School of Journalism and during the 60's he was incarcerated several times for his involvement in antiwar rallies."
"So, he's also a community activist, too?" Pete added.
"Yes, I would say Donald Abraham qualifies as that. People who know him personally say he exhibits the characteristics of a Napoleonic Complex and is perpetually on a power trip. Married four times, all were settled outside the courts. He’s notorious for his extramarital affairs, heavy drinking, chain smoking and a losing gambling habit, and is said to have several mistresses on the side. He's five-foot five, weighs one-hundred-ninety pounds and is sixty-three years of age."
"What a stellar member of society," Pete added, unable to control himself. "Do you have a picture of this godsend?"
Kate leafed to the section of the report dedicated to Donald Abraham then showed the group his photo.
Pete noted after seeing the publisher's photo, "Wow, that guy is a real catch."
Ingrid could not help but grin at Pete's comments. When she saw the news proprietor’s picture Ingrid broke out in laughter. It was late. Everyone, save Kate, was getting a little giddy.
Jack had an indistinguishable reaction, laughing and adding, "I'd say Mr. Abraham looks a little like Bonaparte to me except, of course, for that proboscis of his."
"This is going to be a real treat," Pete commented while beaming broadly.
Kate disregarded everyone's comments and continued.
"Donald maintains his position through his family's control of all common stock. He has an extremely lavish lifestyle which requires the Board to regularly approve cash disbursements to his personal expense account."
"Really? How on earth did your people dig all this up?" asked the president.
"They are really good at what they do. That is all I should say."
“Okay then, what about Weisser?"
"Shmuel Weisser also inherited his position as publisher at American News. Mr. Weisser attended Oxford and lived a great part of his youth in Europe, only returning to the States when his father passed away twenty-five years ago. Shmuel is not in as secure a position as Donald; his family was forced to sell off a large portion of their common stock to help settle debts surrounding his father's estate."
"So, Shmuel doesn’t have a lock on the voting shares.”
"His family still controls fifty-one percent of the voting stock?"
Kate spent the next ten minutes going over what was notable on Shmuel Weisser before moving on to the final publisher, Jason Simon.
"Mr. Simon is a relative newbie to the news business having recently taken over the reins of the family-owned company when his oldest brother passed away, from AIDS."
"Mr. Simon's sexual preference is men. We also discovered that he also dabbles in pedophilia."
"This is hard for me to believe," Pete blurted out laughing. "How can all of them be complete degenerates? Is this what results from inbreeding?"
Almost everyone cracked up at the pun, save Kate who kept going, "He is a sports enthusiast, is part owner of the Redskins, spends a great deal of time in Europe at his favorite spot, Greece, where Mr. Simon lives for several months out of the year."
Jack had heard enough, "Okay, enough on the personal front. What about financial weaknesses?”
“Well, the print side of all three news companies is bleeding red. It’s only their network and cable news operations that are showing some little profit. Overall, however, each is showing declining revenues.”
“Reasons?”
“Changing markets, competition, poor management, and poor expense control. They now have competition from a cable news company, RHO, and it’s starting to pick up the advertisers who've historically been stalwarts of the three corporations."
"On the print side of the business, the publishers are seeing revenue erosion from news sources on the internet. News aggregators like Timberlake Reports are popping up all over the place and are gradually picking up marketshare. So far, the efforts of the establishment have failed in coming up with a strategy that uses the internet.”
“Are you aware of why RHO and Timberlake are doing so well?”
“Tom, I think so. If you look at the balance of the reporting for those two successes, they promote largely traditionalist viewpoints. Timberlake Reports relies on the news establishment for its news coverage, but it is selective. I would consider them a minor player. RHO has a small cadre of journalists on the payroll, but nowhere near the number of the media institutions. It seems, however, to be working, even without the tens of thousands of reporters.”
“It would seem a need for a conservative viewpoint exists. Isn’t it baffling the publishers don’t see it?"
"Oh, but they do Tom. It's just that they're ideologues, primarily."
"They've got to be idiots. Victor could really be on to something here.”
“No, Benjamin, they’re not ‘idiots.’ The owners are aware that changing their rhetoric would be good for their bottom lines, but they will work to change
the market rather than reshape themselves.”
“How so?” asked Anne.
“The most recent illustration is best demonstrated by the push of the Democrat-controlled Congress to reinstate the ‘Fairness Doctrine.'"
"Fairness Doctrine?"
“Yes, Anne, the Fairness Doctrine. It was legislation created just following World War II and enforced rules to provide equal time for countervailing ideas and created a form of censorship. Any stance on any issue aired by broadcasters was subject to rebuttal and as you might suspect, it created bedlam. The broadcasters responded by eliminating the public forum. There was one loophole the Democrats left in, an exemption for news reporting.”
Pete laughed, “That was convenient.”
Kate kept on, "The news moguls work through the Democrat Party to change the ground rules. You must understand, Weisser, Simon and Abraham get those politicians elected into office. The senate minority leader, Senator Rooney, is a prime example of the kind of politician the publishers secretly back and get into office. That guy, Jim Rooney, can scarcely string together two sentences, unless he’s got cue cards to read laying around somewhere. It is Rooney’s committee that is the one pushing to get the Fairness Doctrine reinstated.”
“President Ronald Reagan got rid of the law. Today, people like Donald Abraham want the law put back in force to silence their growing opposition.”
Jack paused for a moment before adding, “This is uncharted territory for us. Where do we stand with Senator Burton?”
Kate responded briskly, “He’s still not returning my calls.”
“Kate, I’ve met the Senator personally and I know he has the qualities we need up in Washington. We’ve got to get him, otherwise any move on our part, any sign of encroachment upon the existing establishment will be viewed and responded to as a direct threat by the Democrats. You are talking about powerful politicians who can and would do most anything to protect their allies in the press."
“Just how much in bed are the Democrats with the likes of old Donald?” asked Pete.
Kate responded, "Those three men, and their companies, dominate the industry, both for revenues and marketshare and they all support one political party. Those guys are in such harmony with the Democrat talking points that they really act as one. I’m confident as hell we will run into problems."
Benjamin Jordan now added, "This is a real problem and a hot topic among executives up on Wall Street and, frankly, many see the nation changing, largely under the influence of people like Abraham, Weisser and Simon.”
Thomas Phillips confirmed, “I imagine the answer has got to be yes, we need someone in Washington. Not just anyone, but someone who is committed to MEI and our cause.”
Anne added, “If we’re going to get into the media business, I’d recommend the person have good inside connections, on both sides of the aisle.”
Jack summed things up, “Okay, I agree and Senator Robert Burton is the man.”
Pete shrugged, “Okay, we get it. That is Kate’s area of specialty.”
Kate smiled at the slight compliment.
“Kate, have you really tried everything?”
“No Jack, not at this moment. I’ve been juggling things a bit, what with the Chinese opportunities surfacing.”
For a fraction of a second Kate’s boss appeared displeased; too swift a facial tick for anyone else to pick up on save for Pete, and herself.
“Jack, I understand now, the Senator is a high priority.”
“Good, Victor and I want to fast track this endeavor. When we enter this fray we need to make sure we’re not totally blind-sided by the politicians in Washington.”
Kate was one of those headstrong go-getters who nearly always got what she wanted, that is, if the female executive in point of fact wanted whatever it was. Her confidence was easily detected in the ‘Freudian Slip’ Kate meant to let slip.
"I’ll start working on the lobbyist, I mean Senator, right away."
"Good, now let’s move on to the enterprises themselves. What have we dug up?”
GRILLED ON THE HILL
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