business with someone, even my cousin, who
doesn’t see the difference between right and wrong.”
When there was no response from Trevor,
Ellis left, closing the door behind him.
Trevor sat almost motionless for several
minutes. He looked at the disheveled stacks of paper—of information— now in a mess on his desk. He pulled out his
gold pen and rotated it, tapping the desktop with each turn.
Finally he picked up the phone and dialed a number he had memorized
a month before.
“Yes?” said a man’s voice on the other
end.
“He’s on the way. The King Air.”
“OK.” The line went dead.
Turning from the memory of the following
day’s corporate plane crash, Trevor closed his eyes for a moment. All those years ago. Why couldn’t Ellis see the power in this
gift from Allah ? Trevor had made sure that his cousin’s wife
and sons were well taken care of after the plane crash, but he
almost never thought of them as family. They were just like all the
other Americans. Blasphemers. Enemies of God. Allah be praised
that my eyes are not blinded by this country, and that we can do so
much with what He has given us. The problem now is that there is
almost too much information .
He swiveled back in the direction of the
keyboard, turned his gold pen nervously a few times, and then typed
instructions on several RTI issues that required his lieutenants’
special skills He ended with, “President Harper’s media and
entertainment legislation must not pass Congress. The legislation
must fail.”
At noon the next day the elevator doors
opened in the chrome and glass lobby of Capital Tower, and Kristen
Holloway exited, concluding her walk-through with the property’s
listing broker, Bill Porter.
Putting her notebook in her large purse, she
turned to face him. “Tell me again the asking price.”
“Eighty-five million.”
She grimaced.
He shrugged. “Downtown is hot again, and
we’ll just have to see if anyone wants it.”
“If we’re interested, what would it take to
stop the process? Would an offer close to full price do it?”
He looked away, and then returned her gaze.
Finally he said, “I’ll ask the owners whether they want to
negotiate with USNet alone, or let the process run for three
weeks.”
“Please do, Bill. And I’ll report to David.
We’d like to get the ball rolling.”
Porter nodded. “I’ll check with the owners
and let you know.”
Sitting at his desk that afternoon, Todd
Phelps, David’s most experienced direct report after Kristen, was
running through his email while talking on the phone with an old
business school friend, Mike Campbell.
“Have you seen the new Audi roadster?” Mike
asked. “It’s incredible.”
“That it is. I’ll never afford one on my
salary.”
“I picked one up on Saturday.”
Todd looked up from his screen. “No
way.”
“Yeah. Metallic blue.”
Todd paused. “No way for me, with a wife and
two kids.”
“I’ll show it to you when you’re here. Right
after we negotiate the lease.”
Todd shifted. “Yeah. Good. Listen, the lease
is important to us, too. That’s why we’re coming up on Wednesday.
We need space in Minneapolis for next year’s expansion of the
publishing group, but the rental rate has to be right.”
“We can deliver space to you in nineteen
months, max. It’ll be the best space in suburban Minneapolis, at
the best rental rate. USNet’s lease will let us fund our
construction loan and get started on the project, so I promise you
that the rental rate is going to knock your socks off.”
Todd finished an email note and pushed Send.
“Uh, great. But the folks across the street say the same. And
they’re a couple of months ahead of you.”
“Fine. But you need to check their permit
situation. We hear they have problems, and you should compare the
offers. I’m sure we’ll be less expensive.”
“I hope so. David Sawyer is really focused.
He wants to visit our Chicago projects on Wednesday morning, shoot
up
Learning to Kill: Stories