Escaping my Life Ch. 01

Charles entered the Boardroom like he owned it. Well, he did so he gave little or no care in his entrance or the usual social platitudes that came with it. He would weather this drama as had had before. He felt he had a solid set of stainless-steel balls that would pull him through any adversity.

Look what he had created...from his own ideas, his own sweat, his own energy...MyLife, that's what. He had created one of the largest companies in the world and he was CEO. All done before his 30th birthday.

'Fuck them all!' he repeated to himself over and over.

He heard the doors close behind him. He heard the sudden hush of the others in the room as he strode to his seat at the head of the large table. He half threw his notes and phone on the table as he pulled the stupidly ornate chair from the table and unceremoniously shoved his ass in place.

"Why was this 'emergency meeting' called and who called it?" demanded Charles.

"We all did," responded Peter Williams, Board member and general good guy Charles had to admit.

"We have the potential 'perfect storm' headed our way and we need to talk it through." Perter commented.

"How so?" responded Charles generally curious at this moment.

"We have received information from two separate sources that the Senate committee is going to go for criminal charges, not just civil. And a second contact said that the Senate subcommittee is now in possession of information, that has added weight to criminal potential."

Peter paused, "We do not have a handle on what the information is, but our informant stated it was damning and political poison."

"So, we have nothing but rumors and innuendo, and you drag me down here like I am still a Tech geek from the basement IT office?" Charles sits waiting on a response.

"How much money do we pay these 'informants' on the Senate staff? How much per annum? And we get bullshit information and Data?" Charles is beginning to lose his perspective at that moment.

"Tell them we want our money's worth, or they can go fuck themselves."

And with that comment Charles picked up his things and strode out of the room banging the doors back in a dramatic flourish.

***

Next morning, 6am.

Charles entered the 25^th floor just before noon and the floor was dead silent. The normal verbal undertone that pervades all offices was missing. No minor comments that echo across the floor. No loud discussions happening from certain cubicles...nothing, just plain nothing.

Nothing, silence.

It seems everyone took this day to remote work.

Charles looked down one of the cubicle corridors to an open space and there pinned to one of the cubicle walls, a newspaper front page.

Emblazoned in the headlines 'MyLife's SECRET DOCS LEAKED.'

In the lower byline "Criminal charges filed, and subpoenas issued."

It was not news to Charles.

His phone had been blowing up for the past 24 hours. He had been informed the night before that it would 'nuclear devastation' come morning. Jeanne had bailed from the penthouse stating a need to tend to her 'ill mother' and vanished into the night.

He had to chuckle, beautiful, curvy, and not a romantic bone in that sexy body. She had not seen her mother in at least a year or more, but she wanted to be clear of the blast zone and have a clear-cut, great sounding excuse why she was not standing 'by her man.'

She was all 'business is business.'

Charles let out a heavy sigh and decided to head back to the penthouse and 'work remote' too.

As twilight drew over the city, he sat looking out over San Francisco as the sun set. He was sipping some incredibly expensive bourbon. What he consumed had been gift from somebody and he sat sipping it out of a Waterford crystal snifter. He would have been just as happy with Jack Daniels and a red Solo cup. But this was at his built-in bar in some stupidly expensive Waterford crystal decanter.

He found himself reviewing his life choices. His company was in serious trouble. The assholes that were after him, had upped the ante by moving it from civil to criminal. His relationships were a joke.

He was alone, isolated and being set up for the fall. To say the least, this did not sit well with either his ego or his personality.

Something had to give. And they had splashed his life over everything on a Friday, so he had the whole weekend to think about what Monday would be like.

***

Charles walked back into his home office and slammed the door. His only thought was "fuck it".

He unlocked his "personal" wall safe and reached to the back. He felt the large envelope he created many years before. He has found comfort each February in updating and improving the envelope over the years. He was never sure why he always seemed to work on it in February, but it was a fun, nonsense thing to contemplate for a moment before he did what he knew would be a drastic change of his life.

Charles pulled it out and dumped the contents on his in-home desk. It looked like something from a Jason Borne movie. Multiple passports, drivers' licenses, cash, cards, burner phones, all clean and viable even within today's governmental oversight.

He had paid some serious cash to have his escape plan. An escape plan fabricated on a lark, going back to his college days, but with 15 years and much better equipment. Cash, false ID (but real) and access to hidden accounts. Made to win a bet...with himself?

Well, more for "just in case".

Charles dumped his wallet, phone car keys and everything else on the desk. He wanted nothing that could connect him from his old life to his new one.

Charles looked at his clothes and just fumed, Armani Suit, Italian shoes, Gucci cashmere overcoat, $25 K for a watch...

He knew he must get some distance and fast. Then he could shed his skin like the preverbal snake he was being called.

The elevator ride to the lobby would have been the quickest, but he needed out of his building with little or no paparazzi involvement. He got off on the first level underground parking and then swung around to the area below the lobby-floor restaurants. He found what he was looking for, the loading dock. He ducked his head and then walked up the ramp to the small employee parking lot and side streets.

Charles walked outside and took a deep breath. He was going to leave it behind, at least for now. Behind him was the Bentley two floors down. The penthouse, Waterford crystal, Armani, Rolex, the sycophants, his 'loving girlfriend'...all the bullshit.

It was time to act.

Charles heard a noise and spun at the top of the ramp. Huddled by the buildings huge electrical transformer was a human wrapped in a tarp, using the transformers heat to stay warm. He recognized his old homeless friend, Fred.

Charles heart just about stopped, what was he wearing? His old jacket?

Charles walked to Fred "Fred where did you get that jacket?" He then sees a flash "And that watch?"

In a very confused cold raspy voice, "Your girlfriend gave them to me. Made some comment about it being "fitting," stated Fred using his fingers to mimic quotation marks. "I thought you gave them to me to keep warm," ended Fred.

"Fred, I want to make a deal with you. Ill trade you my overcoat and watch for my old jacket and watch. They mean a lot to me." Charles pauses for a moment. "But I want you to make me a personal promise." Charles commented and then crouched down to look into Fred's eyes.

"Just these two things are worth tens of thousands of dollars. The watch alone is worth $25 thousand dollars. I know you used to work in the financial district but got involved in gambling." There more of a recognition flicker in Fred's eyes.

"Yes Fred, sorry I had you checked out." Charles paused just another second.

"You have been on a journey Fred. And I hope you can be done with yours, as I start mine. There are some people that will gladly pay well over the sales price for these two items because they belonged to me."

Charles pulled out a business card and wrote that they had been given to Fred by him and then he signed it. He handed the card to Fred and took a moment to talk with him a little longer.

"Fred, I want you to promise me something. Don't blow this money on booze. Don't gamble it away. This is enough cash to start over, reconnect with family." Charles paused as he sees another flicker of recognition.

"Like I said Fred, I had you run. You have a new granddaughter, Fred. She should grow up with a grandfather that spoils her." Charles stopped and shed his coat and unlatched his watch.

He crouches back down to Fred's level as Fred struggled out of the jacket and undid Charles's old watch. They did a quick exchange, but Charles keep a hand latched to coat and yanked it to get Fred's attention.

"You have another chance now, a chance to set your life in a different path" Charles reared up.

"We both have a chance to escape the cage we built for ourselves. Get out my friend, run from the trap and put your life back together." Charles handed him $5 and said, "One last beer and then find your life again my friend".

Fred pocketed the money.

Charles smiled and then turned slinging his leather coat over his shoulder. He did not look back. As he made his way onto Market Street, he kept his eyes looking forward. He walked away, disappearing into the morning mist.

Fade to Black

End of Act 1

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