The Firestorm Conspiracy by Cheryl Angst Read Free Book Online Page B

main gates.”
    “He was your father too.”
    “He put a roof over my head.”
    Robert sighed. “I’m not going through this again. You are the legitimate child and I am the spoiled bastard. I get it. You’re better than me.”
    “Robert...”
    “You were supposed to be the son and heir to the empire. It’s not your fault, and it sure as hell isn’t mine you were born with ovaries instead of testicles.”
    Some days Robert wondered. Given her success in brokering deals that would make even their deceased father blanch, he suspected his sister had balls of steel under her razor sharp business suits.
    “He never let me forget it though, did he?”
    “Mere, what the hell have you done?”
    “I saved the company. I arranged things so you can keep your house, your car, your yacht, and your mistresses. Never fear, your job as Llewellyn Industrial’s poster boy is secure.” Robert rolled his eyes. Nominally an executive vice president, his primary duties consisted of keeping the shareholders happy. It was his job to wine and dine them--his face graced the company’s portfolio--and he was responsible for making a bad situation sound good.
    He’d been doing a lot of the last one over the past year. Cutbacks in UESF spending, the impending peace accord, and the global factory strikes had stripped the corporation of its viability. The current fiscal report projected a matter of weeks before the doors closed forever.
    Except, his sister had informed the board of directors that not only was the company solvent, but they wouldn’t need to lay off a third of the workforce, reduce hours, and cut pay--all contributing factors in the massive strikes crippling the armaments industry.
    “How--”
    “Get the union back to the table. I want the workers in the factories in forty-eight hours.”
    “What do you want them to do?”
    “They can sit on their thumbs and pick their noses for all I care, just get them back.”
    “Why?”
    “If we’re the only company with an available workforce, the orders--small as they are--will come to us.”
    “Where’d you get the funds to cover salaries and expenses?”
    “Just get it done.”
    “Mere--”
    “Damn it, Robert. I’ve done my job. Now go do yours.” Meredith spun away again. Her frigid silence was marred by the gentle ticking of the antique clock on the desk. As he turned on his heel and strode toward the large oak doors he wondered how many bottles of wine would be required to keep the shareholders from digging into the sudden turnaround.

Chapter 12
    By the time the Firestorm reached visual range of the moonbase, Rebeccah had read every article authored by Professor Thompson on avian anthropology, sociology, and interstellar relations. She had also downloaded the syllabi from each of his courses, skimmed his required texts, and in the process, become a huge fan of his work.
    Rebeccah brimmed with excitement, envisioning long chats during her off-duty hours, plying him with questions and sharing her own thoughts about the peace talks.
    As the moonbase grew larger on the central screen her agitation increased exponentially. Twirling her fingers in her hair, she stalked the captain from under her bangs. The moment he moved to exit the bridge, she pounced.
    “Captain Forbes,” she said, drawing in a rushed breath, “I think it would be a good idea if your welcoming party included the ship’s diplomatic officer. Professor Thompson may have some questions that I am uniquely suited to answer, and I would hate to disappoint him upon his arrival.”
    She held her breath.
    “I don’t know, Lieutenant.” Captain Forbes smiled. “Seems like a pretty straightforward pick-up to me. I’m sure Commander Cheng and I can handle anything that arises.”
    “Yeah, Santiago,” said Cheng. “We can handle this.”
    Rebeccah’s heart twisted in her chest.
    “Besides, why do you want to stand around in a cold airlock waiting for some stuffy professor anyway?” asked Cheng as he