Remember Me (40 page)

“Sit—can I get you anything to drink?” he asked. His tone conveyed that he was being polite, and I should seriously think twice about the drink.

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I sat, sinking low into the seat cushion, “No thanks,” I replied back. I had no doubt that he knew me better than I knew myself. I was betting that my trump card was higher than his.

If he thought that I couldn’t possibly know his most hidden secrets—he was wrong! Stacy had been building a case file on him for a long time. It would be my only shot at wrestling my freedom back from the “Family.” Stacy was good, and I didn’t doubt that this was the best work she’d ever done.

“I hope you don’t mind if we do away with the pleasantries and get straight to the heart of the matter, Andrew.”

Point one for their side. He knew who I was, though

it wasn’t a major surprise to me. “No problem at all Mr.

Winslow,” I said without batting an eye. I tried to gauge him.

Winslow was larger than the pictures I’d seen of him. Some of his size came from his natural fatty bulk. His hair was all grey and his nose pockmarked by booze or adolescent acne. His eyes, however, were crystal clear and sharp. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by being lazy or stupid. It would be wrong of me to think he was anything other than extremely intelligent.

“J.W. would be fine,” he said and moved slightly, repositioning himself in his chair. He could now lean more forward on his desk. It gave him a forceful position to look down at me.

“I believe you are somewhat of an enigma, Andrew. I don’t yet have a handle on how you came to be here. I’m smart enough to know, even in my advanced age, that there is so much un-limited potential that you can offer. You are so much more than the trivial house bets you give to C.J.”

“I’m sure Thurington filled you in quite admirably,” I countered. Point two to my side as Winslow’s eyes widened by the smallest of measures. They refocused on me more sharply, and I saw that, “Don’t play games with me son…you’ll only lose,”

look.

A cocky grin spread across his face as he parleyed back, S 301 S

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“Yes, Professor Thurington’s help has been most appreciated.

We had to check it out of course, and I find it fascinating that you haven’t done anything to help your younger self.”

I couldn’t hide the hurt that came with the knowledge that he was watching more than just me. I had to break my eye contact with him. It was a point for his side. I suddenly felt that I might be in way over my head. Unwilling to just lie down and take it, I calmly countered his observation, “I wasn’t certain about parallax dilemmas, so I thought it better to leave them to their own lives.”

“Like changing the smallest detail and losing a daughter,”

he shot back, interrupting me. He was enjoying this way too much. The repugnant grin on his face made me want to wipe it off with a two-by-four.

I felt the blood beginning to rise to my face, “I’m sure you haven’t asked me here to discuss the pitfalls of time travel.

You’ve made your point, and I don’t doubt what you know

and have gleaned from others. I’m not a simpleton either Mr.

Winslow. What is it you want from me?” I said it with more anger in my voice than I wanted to convey.

J.W. Winslow sat silent for a moment. His intimidation

techniques were honed razor sharp. I doubted that many people left his office with their spirits in check. He brought his hands together in front of him, fingertips touching the cor-responding fingertip on the other hand. He cocked his head to the side. It was a purposely conceived gesture to illicit a presumption of imaginary thought. “Andrew, what I want is without bounds, because you have so much to offer. Far from the vast monetary rewards is something more precious to

me…your wealth of knowledge. What you know could influence the direction of the world.”

It was worse than even I had anticipated. Winslow wanted power, and I knew he would stop at nothing to claim it.

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“According to Thurington, I really don’t have the ability to change the major things that have already happened. I can only tweak it, alter some of the outcomes.”

“That’s not even close to the truth Andrew. I’ve personally spoken with the majority of experts about the nuances of time travel. The general consensus is that while this may be your past, it is more than likely an alternate universe—mirrored reflection of what once happened. It started out exactly alike, albeit with you now in it. Therefore, you can, and you have changed the direction of this time by just being here. I’m sure your company E.M.J. has altered the direction of technology and put us into a totally new uncharted future.”

The points were starting to pile up against me. “There really isn’t anything to stop me from destroying what I’ve built and then putting a gun to my head,” I stated with as much arrogance as I could muster. “There are some lines even I won’t cross. You’re crazy if you think money is my driving force.”

“A man of humility and principle…excellent, excellent. It does make things more interesting. I have no doubt you would do as you say; however, I believe with the right persuasion you will do exactly what I want!”

His motive was clear; his threat had been laid out plainly.

I was supposed to obey his command and step-in-line without any resistance. I leaned forward in my chair as I said, “If I’m dead then it really doesn’t matter what you do, guilt is only for the living,” I gave him my best retaliatory stare and half-crazed snarl.

“No need to become hostile, Andrew. I’m not going to ask for your soul. I have every intention of making sure that you and those you love prosper right along with me. The only detail, a small one at that…is who calls the shots.”

“And if I decline?”

“I’m sorry. Do you believe that this is a matter of choice?

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You can most assuredly kill yourself or you can comply…simple as that. I’m going to hedge my bet on compliance. I don’t see you as a suicide threat. If you were so concerned about the timeline, you would have already killed yourself!”

I felt out-gunned for the moment. I needed some time to

rethink my initial strategy. “What is it you want, exactly J.W.?”

I said it with disdain, but in a cooler and more controlled tone.

“For starters, you are going to sell thirty-five percent of E.M.J. to my holding company for one dollar. You will resign as the CEO and fill a position here with my firm. The company will then go public. The phone that came with you from the future and all its components, including any current schematics, will be turned over to Winslow Electronics.”

“I see. Profit big and then destroy the company. I don’t find your request as currently fitting within my long term plans. I think you will have to find someone else to bully! Thank you for your time. I’m sure I can find my own way out.”

I started to stand up and then Winslow barked at me, “Sit down! Do you really believe you have any kind of power to negotiate with me? This isn’t a friendly business meeting. Are you really that stupid? I don’t believe so. You have no choice, and I think you know that! Stop trying to be a hero. Think it through, Andrew— all of the unnecessary risks you would be taking by trying to fight the inevitable.”

I sat back down and placed my briefcase on my lap. I

clicked open the two safety latches. From inside I withdrew the large manila envelope marked, “Documents.” I shut the case and set it back down on the floor. I met Winslow’s hard gaze with one of equal rebuttal. Reaching forward, I placed the envelope on his desk. I made sure to lay it within inches of his hands. “Take a look inside, and then we can actually begin our true negotiations.”

Winslow made no move to comply with my directive. He

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did show his unpreparedness by the mere act of doing nothing.

Finally—a point for my side.

I sighed, and then said, “You have not been the only one studying up on his adversary. I’ve been preparing for this meeting for over three years. I’ve fed Thurington with many things that I knew he would pass on to you. I also know that Tom is in your back pocket as well. Your meeting with Stebben, by way of Oscar Danielson, proved fruitless…if I may say so. The surveillance of my parents, sister and me, has not gone unnoticed.

Money spent for posturing and control is a two-way street.

I’ve spent millions on procuring the information about you that is contained within that folder. My search for knowledge about you left no stone unturned. What I know is the work of three dedicated years—and let me say what I’ve learned is sadly interesting.”

I now saw the cracks beginning to show on Winslow’s face.

First, it was the smallest of narrowing in his eyes; secondly, it was the way his fingertips pressed ever tighter together, making the tips shine white. Our match had just escalated! I was fully pumped with adrenaline. There would be no turning back now.

Winslow tried to maintain his rigidness. He let out a defining sigh as he reached for the folder. As he opened it and pulled out the contents, he stated matter-of-factly “I expected nothing less from you, Andrew. I’m reasonably sure that I know most of what is in here. I’ve also kept a log of who you contacted. I have to admit that mine is not as far reaching as the last three years. I’ll give you that concession. I know about the FBI contact in Washington and the multiple IRS inquiries into my business ventures. You have to remember…I’ve spent decades building my empire. You’ve only spent three years.”

J.W. spread the documents out in front of him. He scanned them quickly, shuffling through them. He stopped when he S 305 S

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saw the tax return for Stallion Distribution out of Tennessee.

His eyes took on a nasty shade of angry. His face turned red when he saw similar returns for five other companies. “I see you have been quite the efficient detective,” he spit at me, the tone of anger rising higher in his voice. “Am I to assume you have more than just these?”

“I do, but let’s just let it lie for the moment, shall we?”

I asked. It was really more of a statement than a question of permission.

“What do you propose?” Winslow responded. He was doing his best to maintain a hold on his command of the current conversation.

I’m sure that very few people ever stood toe-to-toe with the powerful J.W. Winslow and came out of it on top. My

guess would be zero. I had to be smart if I wanted to make it to tomorrow. I chose my words carefully, “There are certain things I can live with, and I realize there are things I may have to do, outside of my comfort zone. First and foremost among them is not giving up my independence. I will fight to protect those I love with my last dying breath. I am willing to concede almost anything for those two guarantees.” I looked directly at Winslow, “without those two conditions guaranteed, I will have no other choice than to swing for the fences.”

“And you offer me what in exchange?”

“You can have twenty percent of E.M.J. You will have no

voice in the decision making process and no documented interaction. I suggest it all be handled through one of your many holding companies. You may ask about my knowledge of future events. Those which I feel are acceptable—I will answer truthfully and only to you. I will tell you this…what I know will enable you to profit beyond your wildest imagination. It happens several years away, but I can make sure you have the insights to turn millions into billions.”

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“Billions?” Winslow asked. He was visibly excited by the thought. He was shrewd and even at his age he still hungered for untold riches. “If we can come to some sort of an agreement, what guarantees do I have?”

“I could ask the same question of you,” I tossed right back at him. I opened my briefcase and took out the folder marked,

“Events.” I opened it up so that he could see how thick it was with papers. “I’ve been compiling what I could remember for a long time. Some of it may not come to pass, with the whole time travel hypothesis, but these are things of great note.” I was betting on his patriotism. From the folder, I handed him the paper I’d written summarizing the events of September 11, 2001.

His eyes took on a glowering look as he read through my

synopsis. “Preposterous, you aren’t serious! I can’t believe one tower, let alone both would be attacked. The Pentagon hit also, and we didn’t prevent it.” Winslow was many things, most of them dark, but he celebrated the Fourth of July with the rest of America.

“They are or will be. President Bush retaliates, but the damage is done. The events in the economy prior to the attack on the towers and after they are struck, causes the stock market to crumble. A wise man may often wish that he had the benefit of hindsight. I can give it to him, and in doing so that man would stand to profit immensely.” I said my piece, letting the smirk play across my face, even though inside I was disgusted by what I was proposing.

Winslow shook his head, his eyes never leaving the paper in front of him. I waited for him to make the next move. I had no heroic feelings of glory. My resolve and anticipation com-ingled to make my insides feel like a swarm of angry bees.

J.W. Winslow laid the paper down on the desk. The confident gleam was back in his eye as he spoke, “You’ve just given S 307 S

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me the information I need to make me a very rich man. I’m afraid you now have no more leverage to entice me. With this alone, I can gain both the political and monetary dreams of a young man. The original deal stands!”

I wasn’t the least bit shaken by his refusal to deal. Like his comment earlier to me, I’d expected nothing less from him. I took my time. I sat back in my chair and gave Winslow a dose of his own medicine. I appeared to ponder his last directive.

I let my silence get under his skin. When I could tell he was becoming agitated, I took out the unmarked folder from my briefcase. I withdrew six copies of current police warrants, each signed by a different judge. I handed them to Winslow,