Total Control (56 page)

Sidney ran up the stairs and slammed and locked the bedroom door. She grabbed the shotgun off the bed, racked the action of the weapon, backed into the far corner and sat down on the floor, the gun pointed straight at the door. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook her head in disbelief. Oh, Gods She should never have gotten Jeff involved.

Sawyer was at his desk at the Hoover Building when Frank Hardy called. He briefly filled Hardy in on the most recent developments, chief of which was Sawyer's conclusion, based on his examination of the forensics evidence, that Sidney Archer had not killed Goldman and Brophy.

"You think it could have been Jason Archer?" Hardy asked.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"You're right. Too big a risk for him to come back here anyway."

"Plus I can't believe he'd set up his wife for the murders." Sawyer paused as he considered his next question. "Any word from RTG?"

"I was just about to tell you. The president, Alan Porcher, is unavailable for comment. Big surprise there. The company's PR person gave the standard line vigorously denying the allegations, of course."

"How about the CyberCom deal?"

"Well, there we finally have some good news. This latest development with RTG has thrown CyberCom firmly into Triton's camp.

In fact, a news conference is scheduled for later this afternoon announcing the deal. You want to attend?"

"Maybe. Nathan Gamble should be a happy camper."

"You got that right. I'll leave a couple of visitor badges for the press conference if you and Ray want to come see the show. It's at Triton's headquarters."

Sawyer considered the request for a moment. "I think you'll see us there, Frank."

Sawyer and Jackson, their yellow visitor badges riding brightly on their lapels, walked into the auditorium-sized room, which still managed to be crowded.

"Damn, this must be a big event." Jackson eyed the sea of reporters, industry people, financial analysts and other investment types.

"Money always is, Ray." Sawyer snagged two cups of coffee from the hospitality table and handed one to his partner. Sawyer stretched his six-foot-three-inch frame to its maximum height as he looked over the crowd.

"Looking for somebody?" Frank Hardy appeared behind the pair.

Jackson smiled. "Yeah, we were looking for some poor people.

But I think we're in the wrong place."

"That you are. Gotta admit, you can feel the excitement, can't you?"

Jackson nodded and then pointed at the army of reporters. "But is one company buying out another really all that newsworthy?"

"Ray, it's a little more than that. I would be hard put to name any other company in America whose potential exceeds CyberCom."

"But if CyberCom is so special, why do they need Triton?" Jackson asked.

"Wth Triton they can partner with a world leader and have the billions of dollars needed to produce, market and expand their product base. The result will be that in a couple of years, Triton will dominate like GM and IBM used to--even more so, really. The flow of ninety percent of the world's information will be through hardware, software and other technology created by the business combination being formed today."

Sawyer shook his head as he gulped his coffee down. "Damn, Frank," he said, "that doesn't leave much room for everybody else.

What happens to them?"

Hardy smiled weakly. "Well, that's capitalism for you. Survival of the fittest comes from the law of the jungle. You've probably watched those National Geographic shows. Animals eating each other, struggling to survive. It's not a pretty sight."

Hardy looked up at the small elevated stage where a podium had been situated. "It's about to start, guys. I've got us seats near the front. Come on." Hardy herded them through the crowds, entering a special roped-off section that encompassed the first three rows from the stage. Sawyer looked over the occupants of a short line of chairs to the left of the podium. Quentin Rowe was there. He was a little more dressed up today, but despite his hundreds of millions of bucks in the bank the guy apparently didn't own any neckties. He was engaged in an animated conversation with three men in low-key business suits who Sawyer assumed were the CyberCom people.

Hardy seemed to be reading his mind. "From left to right, CEO, CFO and CO of CyberCom."

"And SOL, shit outta luck, for everybody else," Sawyer said.

Hardy pointed at the stage. From the right side Nathan Gamble, nattily dressed and smiling, marched across and settled in at the podlure. The crowd quickly took their sears and abruptly quieted down as if Moses had just strolled down Mount Sinai with those tablets. Gamble took out a prepared speech and launched into it with considerable vigor. Sawyer didn't hear most of it. He was busy watching Quentin Rowe. The young man was looking at Gamble.

Whether he was conscious of it or not, his expression was not amicable.

From the little Sawyer did hear of Gamble's words, the main import was money, big money that came with market domination.

After Gamble finished with a flourish--he was quite the glib salesman, Sawyer had to admit--there was a huge wave of applause.

Then Quentin Rowe took his place at the podium. As Gamble passed him on his way to sit down, the two men exchanged smiles that were about as phony as Sawyer had ever seen outside a t3 movie.

In comparison to Gamble, Rowe's emphasis was on the limitless positive potential the two companies, Triton and CyberCom combined, could offer the planet. The issue of money never came up. At least from Sawyer's point of view, Gamble had pretty much covered that issue anyway. Now he looked over at Gamble, who was not looking at Rowe at all. He was engaged in a friendly discussion with the CyberCom acronyms. Rowe apparently noticed the exchange at one point as he glanced over, lost his train of thought for a moment and then carried on. His talk received, Sawyer thought, polite applause.

The good of the world apparently took a distant backseat to Mother Green. At least with this crowd.

When the CyberCom people finished up the presentation, all of the men engaged in a handshaking, ringed-arm photo opportunity.

Sawyer noted that Gamble and Rowe never actually touched flesh.

They kept the CyberCom boys between them. Maybe that's why they were so excited about the deal; they'd have a buffer zone now.

Everyone from the stage made his way into the crowd and was instantly besieged by questions. Gamble was smiling, quipping and playing the moment for all it was worth. The CyberCom people followed in his wake. Sawyer watched as Rowe broke rank and headed over to the hospitality table, where he fixed a cup of tea and moved quickly over to a secluded corner.

Sawyer tugged on Jackson's sleeve and they headed in Rowe's direction. Hardy went over to listen to Gamble's pontificating.

"Nice speech."

Rowe looked up to see Sawyer and Jackson standing in front of him.

"What? Oh, thank you."

"My partner, Ray Jackson."

Rowe and Jackson exchanged hellos.

Sawyer looked over at the large group surrounding Gamble. "He seems to like the limelight."

Rowe sipped his tea and wiped his mouth delicately with his nap kin. "His bottom-line approach to the business and limited knowledge of what we actually do makes for good sound bites," he said disdainfully.

Jackson sat down next to Rowe. "Personally, I liked what you were saying about the future. My kids are really into computers. It's true what you were saying: Better educational opportunities for everyone, especially the poor, translates into better jobs, less crime, better world. I really believe that."

"Thank you. I believe it too." Rowe looked up at Sawyer and smiled. "Although I don't think your partner shares that view."

Sawyer, who had been scanning the crowds, looked down at him with a hurt look on his face. "Hey, I'm for all that positive stuff. Just don't take away my pencil and paper. That's all I'm saying." Sawyer pointed his coffee cup over at the group of CyberCom people. "You seem to get along with those guys all right."

Rowe brightened. "I do. They're not as liberal-thinking as I am, but they're a long way from Gamble's money-is-everything position.

I think they might bring a nice equilibrium to the place. Although now we have to endure at least two months of the lawyers taking their pound of flesh while the final documents are negotiated."

"Tyler, Stone?" Sawyer asked.

Rowe looked at Sawyer. "That's right."

"You gonna keep them as your counsel after the CyberCom deal is put to bed?"

"You'll have to ask Gamble that. It's his call. He is the head of the company. Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have to go." Rowe quickly got up and left them.

"What bee's up his bonnet?" Jackson asked Sawyer.

Sawyer shrugged his thick shoulders. "More like a hornets' nest.

If you were partners with Nathan Gamble, you'd probably understand."

"So what now?"

"Why don't you grab another cup of coffee and mingle, Ray. I want to talk to Rowe some more." Sawyer disappeared into the crowd. Jackson looked around and then went over to the hospitality table.

By the time Sawyer had made his way through the crowd, he had lost sight of Rowe. As he swept his head back and forth, he saw Rowe go out the door. Sawyer was about to follow him when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

"Since when is a government bureaucrat interested in the goings-on of the for-profit sector?" Nathan Gamble asked.

Sawyer cast one more look in Rowe's direction, but he was already out of sight. The FBI agent turned to Gamble.

'Tm all for making a buck. Nice speech you gave, by the way. Left me kind of tingling all over."

Gamble let out a belly laugh. "Like hell it did. You want something stronger?" He pointed at Sawyer's Styrofoam cup.

"Sorry, I'm on duty. Besides, it's a little early for me."

"We're celebrating here, FBI man. Just announced the biggest damn deal of my life. I'd say that's worth getting drunk over, wouldn't you?"

"If you want to. It's not my deal."

"You never know," he said provocatively. "Let's take a walk."

Gamble led Sawyer up across the stage, down a short corridor and into a small room. Gamble plopped down in a chair and pulled a cigar from his coat pocket. "If you don't want to get drunk, at least have a smoke with me."

Sawyer put out his hand and the two men lit up.

Gamble slowly waved his match back and forth like a miniature flag before crumpling it under his foot. He eyed Sawyer intently through the twin walls of cigar smoke. "Hardy tells me you're thinking about joining up with him."

"To tell you the truth, I really haven't given it much thought."

"You could do a hell of a lot worse for yourself."

"Frankly, Gamble, I don't think I do all that bad for myself right where I am."

Gamble grinned. "Shit! What do you make a year?"

"That's none of your damned business."

"Jesus, I told you what I pull in. Come on, just a ballpark."

Sawyer cradled the cigar in his hand before clenching it between his teeth. There was now mild amusement in his eyes. "Okay, it's less than what you make. That narrow it down enough?"

Gamble laughed.

"Why do you care what my paycheck says?"

"The point is, I don't. But from what I've seen of you and knowing the government's way of doing business, I gotta believe it's not nearly enough."

"So? Even if it isn't, that's not your problem."

"I'm not into problems so much as I'm into problem solving.

That's what chairmen do, Sawyer. They look at the big picture, or at least they're supposed to. So how about it?"

"So how about what?"

Gamble puffed on his cigar, a small twinkle in his eye.

It finally dawned on Sawyer what the man was getting at.

"Are you offering me a job?"

"Hardy says you're the best. I only hire the best."

"Exactly what position are you looking to fill?"

"Head of security, what else?"

"I thought Lucas already had that job."

Gamble shrugged. "I'll take care of him. He's more of my personal guy anyway. I quadrupled his government salary, by the way. I'll do better than that for you."

"I take it you blame Lucas for what happened with Archer."

"Hey, it's somebody's responsibility. So what do you say?"

"What about Hardy?"

"He's a big boy. Who says I can't bid for your services? I get you on board, maybe I don't need as much of him."

"Frank's a good friend of mine. I'm not doing anything that would screw him. That's not how I operate."

"It's not like the guy's gonna be reduced to going through trash cans. He's already made a hell of a lot of money. Most of it off me."

Gamble shrugged. "But suit yourself."

Sawyer stood up. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure you and I could ever survive each other."

Gamble eyed him steadily. "You know, you're probably right about that."

Sawyer left Gamble sitting there. When he exited the room, he came face-to-face with Richard Lucas, who had been standing outside the door.

"Hey, Rich, you certainly get around."

"It's part of my job," Lucas said brusquely.

"Well, in my book, you qualify for sainthood." Sawyer nodded toward the room where Nathan Gamble was puffing on his cigar and walked off.

Sawyer had just gotten back to his office when his line buzzed.

"Yes?"

"Charles Tiedman, Lee."

"I'll sure take that one." Sawyer hit the flashing red light on his phone. "Hello, Charles."

Tiedman's manner was brisk and businesslike. "Lee, I was getting back to you on your question."

Sawyer flipped back through his notebook until he reached the section on his previous discussion with Tiedman. "You were going to check on the dates Lieberman had raised the rates."

"I didn't want to mail or fax them to you. Even though they are technically publicly known... well, I wasn't certain who might see them other than yourself. No need to stir things up unnecessarily."