Enemy In the Room (15 page)

“I can’t believe this. I
told
you to
check
everyone
involved in these plans, to be sure that
there were no links to us. Now we’ve got the press looking for a
blackmail plot and a USNet employee criticizing one of the most
profitable parts of our business!”

“Mr. Knox, I’m sorry. We’re doing that from
now on, to the third level of possible connections, even though
we’re overloaded. Meanwhile, no one will ever be able to trace the
various threats to one source. They were all made in different
ways, some general and others specific.”

“The Holloway woman has got to go. We can’t
have her at USNet. Criticizing our adult movies. After that
interview, every reporter, especially the few who are friendly to
President Harper, will feel free to call and ask her opinion about
anything we do. I’ll tell Sawyer to fire her.”

“With all respect, sir, you might want to
hold off a week or two on that. You don’t want to link all this too
closely and make her a martyr for expressing her views.”

Knox was silent for a moment. “You may be
right. But the result must be the same. We’ll need a reason, like
the debacle on this Capital Tower project. I’ll tell Sawyer to look
for a good reason to get rid of her.”

“Mr. Knox, on a more positive note, we have
a list of eight possible new RTI duty officers that we’ve assembled
from personal knowledge and intercepts—all mid-level employees who
have handled large responsibilities, but right now can be motivated
by personal problems or their need for income.”

Knox nodded.

Mustafin continued. “Akbar and I would like
you to review the summaries of why we believe these people will be
motivated to participate. If you’d like, I can email them to you
now.”

“Yes, I’ll take a look. Thanks. Maybe with
more people watching the data flow we won’t have these lapses.”

“I’m sure you’re right, sir.”

FRIDAY, APRIL 22ND

David sat alone at his desk two days later,
on Friday afternoon, a stack of property reports, lease abstracts,
budget drafts, and space requests piled next to his inbox. He had
been working on them since four, and an hour and a half later, he
realized that over the upcoming weekend he would have to handle all
the issues that needed his input before he could depart for
Moscow.

And then there were those pages in his
personal drawer. He opened it and pulled them out.
Elizabeth
won’t let me leave without doing something about Rob. And I’m sure
she wants to call Callie.

He had always believed in goal setting and
planning. His father had told him that Allah rewards hard work and
good plans. Although David did not believe in Allah the way his
father did, he did believe that planning produced results. And that
God, if he existed, rewarded those who did right. Every quarter his
team put together a Master Goal List, then broke down each complex
goal into a series of action steps. For twenty years much of his
success had been the result of organizing and achieving goals
through action steps.

Now he faced an unfamiliar list of goals.
Bring Rob back to the real world. Rescue Callie from a jerk, sex
and probably drugs.

He was determined to write
something
on the paper.
These are problems just like business problems. I
can solve them. I’ve just got to think them through, maybe ask for
some advice, and write out the solutions. Then implement the plans.
I can do this.

“Unplug the internet,” he wrote below Rob’s
name.
He’ll scream. Have to prepare him. What about using the
internet for his legitimate schoolwork? Take it slowly? Limit his
time? Elizabeth and I will have to talk.

He looked up at the picture of his family.
He kept his pen at Callie’s name for quite a while, but couldn’t
think of anything to write except “Talk with Kristen.”
She’s got
to leave that guy. I’ll think of something more—this
weekend
.

David put down his pen, rubbed his temple,
then looked again at the more familiar pile of USNet problems that
needed solving. He put the family pages back in the drawer and
picked up the next project at the top of the pile. It was a relief
to begin reading the mundane lease summary.

His phone rang. “Mr. Sawyer, hello, this is
Phyllis Jordan. Mr. Knox wondered if you would have a few minutes
to meet with him.”

“Now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well…sure. I’ll be right up.”

Five minutes later, coming around his desk,
Knox said, “David, glad to see you. Thanks for being available late
on Friday afternoon. Here, have a seat at the table. I’ve just got
a couple of quick things to go over with you. Won’t take long.”

“That’s fine. I was just trying to finish
some reports before heading for Moscow next week. Our requirement
there has actually grown. The country is exploding with internet
use.”

As they sat down across from each other,
Knox frowned, pulled out his pen, and said, “Yes, but that new
President Temirov they just elected is copying our President
Harper, calling for reforms. As if they can legislate morality!
It’s actually worse over there. The government has enough power
that if they decide to end adult movies or punish those who grease
the wheels of commerce with a little cash now and then, they can
just do it. Boom! No freedom of speech or checks and balances. It
would be
very
bad for our business, so we’re watching
developments there rather closely. But”—and a smile returned to his
face as he offered Sawyer some coffee placed in the center of the
table—”I’m sure you’ll find just what we need.”

“We’ve got a good broker over there.”

“Fine. Well, let me start on the issues I
want to discuss with you. First, what’s the latest on Mr. Porter
and our building purchase?”

“I called him on Wednesday morning and
warned him that if Capital Tower closes and he turns out to be part
of the purchasing group, then we’ll pursue him in court as well as
with the Real Estate Commission.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he’d see us in court.”

“I was afraid of that. As were you, of
course.” Knox began to tap the gold pen on the table. “OK, now for
a delicate situation. I want you to get rid of that Kristen
Holloway woman.” Sawyer frowned. Before he could speak, Knox
continued. “No matter how invaluable she may appear, we cannot have
anyone on our team who will so blatantly contradict our company
policies in the national media. She may become a figurehead speaker
for those who support Harper’s attempts to limit our freedom. We
cannot allow it.”

“But…she’s the most experienced person we’ve
got. She’s doing a good job…from Asia to Capital Tower, and a lot
in between.”

“I would not call Capital Tower a great
success.”

“That’s not her fault. Porter is an
unethical thief.” The gold on his wedding ring felt smooth between
his thumb and fingers.

“Well, it’s her project, and it’s not going
well.”

David was silent, the implications of Knox’s
words sinking in. “But she really is an integral part of our team.
We—”

Knox raised the pen. “I’m glad that you’ve
trained her, but you can train others. She has to go, and
soon.”

“On what grounds? For what reason?”

“I’ll leave that up to you. Clearly it can’t
be linked directly to her television debut the other day. We need
some other issues that we can cite as reasons to let her go.”

“It might take some time.” David hated
saying the words, as if he agreed with the order.

“Just do it as quickly and as cleanly as you
can.” Knox smiled and put the pen on the table between them.

As he walked from the elevator lobby on the
thirty-third floor back to his office, David decided not to think
about firing Kristen Holloway until Knox brought it up again.
He’s got to change his mind
.

That Saturday Todd took his wife Mary to
look at new minivans.

“How can we do this?” she asked, as they
pulled into the dealership in their five-year-old sedan, their two
boys strapped into car seats in the back. “We still owe on both of
our cars, plus my student loan.”

Todd turned off the ignition and surveyed
the gleaming new vehicles in the showroom window in front of them.
“I’ve got some bonuses coming on deals we’ll be closing.” He opened
his door and moved to help her with the toddlers. “We’ll put half
down and finance the rest. No problem. Wouldn’t you like to have a
new one? It’ll be much safer.”

Hoisting one son to her hip, Mary said, “Of
course. But I just don’t want us to go any further into debt. It
worries me, Todd.”

“No sweat,” he smiled. “Let me worry about
our finances. You just choose the one you want.”

Closing the door, she responded, “OK. But
let’s be careful.”

Sounding confident, he replied, “We
will.”

Alex insisted that they have dinner at their
favorite neighborhood Chinese restaurant, which Callie knew they
could not afford, but he said that he had big news for her. Because
they were underage, they each took a pill and had a drink of
tequila—Alex had two—before walking to the restaurant.

They arrived early and found a table in the
back, away from the families with children near the fountains in
the front. After they ordered she turned to him, feeling the
effects of their “hors d’oeurves”. “So, what’s the news? Did you
get a job?”

He smiled and faintly shook his head,
looking directly at her. “Not exactly. But close. I have a quick
and easy way to make two thousand dollars.”

“Two thousand dollars! That’s a lot of
money. What do you have to do? It better be legal!”

“Not just me. Us. That video that we made.
It actually won an award for the best amateur couples video last
month. You were voted the most beautiful new talent by over a
hundred thousand viewers! A producer saw it and sent me an email.
We videocalled yesterday, and he has offered us two thousand
dollars to make another thirty-minute video. It can be just like
the first. Just us. No cameramen or anything.” As he watched her
face, he talked faster. “They’ll give us three cameras to set up at
different angles, and then it’s just us. A little more light,
probably. But just us. It’s a paid acting job, which is better than
being in a production at school. And two thousand in cash for
thirty minutes. Isn’t that incredible?”

She stared at him, trying to process all
that he was saying.

He took her hand and smiled. “No one will
ever know who we really are. We can make up names. There will be no
connection to our real lives.”

“We’ll be making a porn movie.” She couldn’t
help smiling.

“So what? Like, we’ve already made one.
Well, I did, but you’re in it. Apparently we’re pretty good actors.
You certainly are. Porn is strong now—a huge following. Lots of
actors and actresses do it. With one already out there, what
difference does it make if we do another? No one we know has
connected it to us, and this won’t be any different. And even if
they do, it’s actually sort of cool.”

“Well my dad and his friend connected the
last one to me. And I didn’t even know about it.”

“I should have told you in advance, but I
thought you’d say no. Anyway, this is a
paying
job. And as
for your dad”—he shrugged—“he’s already disowned you. He doesn’t
care a thing about you. He told us to make it on our own, and this
way we’ll be doing exactly what he said. And think what we can do
with that money. How long would you have to work at your uncle’s
office to make two thousand dollars?”

“Would we be, like, again, in our own
bedroom?”

“Probably. Or maybe a hotel. I’m not sure.
But it will just be us. Very natural.” He smiled.

She shook her head a little but continued to
smile. “That is a lot of money, and we could really use it. Two
thousand?”

“Yes. For thirty minutes.”

“Crazy.”

The waitress brought their soups and egg
rolls.

He picked up a spoon and waited.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally said.

He nodded, filled his spoon, and took a
sip.

David spent much of Saturday in his study,
continuing to work through the pile of papers that had to be
finished. That night they attended the wedding of the daughter of
Elizabeth’s college roommate. David could only think about Callie
and Alex. Sunday morning they slept late. Over brunch they debated
how much of the internet was enough for Rob. Elizabeth wanted to
unplug it completely, while David wanted to limit their son’s time
on the computer. Elizabeth asked how it would be possible to
enforce with all the equipment in his room. They debated moving a
simplified system, minus the virtual reality gear, to their den, to
encourage “legitimate” uses of the web.

After supper on Sunday evening David sat in
his study, preparing for the week ahead. His immediate thoughts
were about Elizabeth. She was, rightly, pushing to intervene in
Rob’s life, as he had done in Callie’s.

He laid aside the summary report on their
Moscow opportunities.

We’ve given them everything. There must be
an answer. Are there counselors who deal with what we’re going
through? How would I find one we could trust? Not some psycho who
blames everything on the parents, or some “born again” Christian
who thinks a baptism will fix anything. I’ve got to help them, and
I will.

MONDAY, APRIL 25TH

As was his custom, retired General Yevgany
Beleborodov was up early that Monday morning in Moscow, finishing
his breakfast with his wife, before his driver took him to the
offices of NovySvet. He did not expect his cell phone to ring, but
was pleased to hear the voice of Simon North, calling from London,
where it was even earlier. He stood up and walked into their
bedroom.