The Luddite Conspiracy Ch. 04

ACT FOUR: ACT FOUR: IN WHICH ENOCH'S HAMMER IS FINALLY BROKEN

Sunday

Charles Lofgrin sipped his black, unsweetened coffee and leaned casually on the corner of David Kearn's desk. Looking around the expansive third floor office area, purposefully ignoring the herd of people spilling out of the conference room at the far end, he enacted the posture of the unconcerned.

"Hey," he said. "Could you believe the chill out there this morning? I mean, it's not even October yet and my car's already having trouble starting. Winter's gonna be a bitch."

"Yeah." David kept his eyes on his computer screen, his voice low. "Sure." He looked positively nauseous. "Is that them?" he asked. "Is it over already?"

Charles shook his head. "Probably just a potty break. My guess is that the report's been presented and signed, and now they're ready to get down to the brass tacks of deciding what to do about it. Can't make those big decisions with a full bladder and an empty coffee cup, now, can you?" He clicked his tongue. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten."

He nodded. "Must just be a break then. Last FMEA I was involved in lasted over an hour, and it was a pretty insignificant affair by comparison." He sipped his coffee. "They'll want to have it over with by noon, though. Isn't that when Adams is showing up?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"So by then for sure."

David rubbed his eyes. "How bad do you think it'll be?"

Charles leaned out and looked around. "Tracy Bunkley seems to be in a good mood," he sipped again, "so you're fucked."

The other man winced, and Charles waved dismissively. "It's a joke, David. Relax."

"Relax. Yeah, sure. It's just my whole life, right? I wish I knew where Neil and Paul were at. They should be here."

Charles pointed vaguely towards the entryway. "I saw them come in earlier. They didn't stop over to see you?"

David frowned. "No. When was this?"

"Almost an hour ago...just after the meeting started. They were talking to some custodian. I didn't recognize the guy, but they seemed real friendly with him. Neil shook his hand."

"A custodian?" He thought a moment. "Was it Earle? The guy who lends Paul all those stupid political conspiracy books?"

"Nah. It was some guy who works upstairs. I think he used to be down here, but I could be wrong."

"Huh." David shrugged. "Regardless, it kinda pisses me off that they didn't stop by to see me. I mean, my ass is on the line the same as theirs."

Charles finished his coffee. "Yeah, well, that means they're stressed the same as you are, too. Nobody's thinking about social kindness right now." He glanced down. "I mean nobody. We're all scared as hell. You do know that, right? That we're all rooting for you guys, crossing our fingers and praying to our gods? I meaneveryone." His face turned grim. "This whole thing is pure bullshit. It's a witch hunt."

"Thanks."

He stood to go, "Yeah, well, everybody's thinking it. I just thought you'd want to hear it said out loud." He turned away, but before he could take a step he froze in place. "David. Stand up for a minute and look over at your team. I think you should see this."

David stood up quickly, and found Neil and Paul. They were huddled in a corner of the large room with a short, well-dressed man who looked a little like Paul Simon. It was Greg Vaughan, the attorney from corporate that had led the meeting on Wednesday. He was talking solemnly, looking apologetic, and Paul was shaking his head in response. Neil didn't seem concerned by whatever it was that he was saying.

"That's fucking weird," David muttered. "I wonder what they're up to."

"That's not all," Charles grinned. "Look at Tracy."

Scanning the room, David found her standing with two of the board members near the coffee pots. She wasn't taking part in the conversation, however. She just stared at the three men in the corner, looking equal parts confused and nervous.

Charles snorted. "It gets more and more curious."

"I'm gonna go check it out," David said, and hurried over to Neil and Paul.

"Hey, good luck!" Charles's voice called after him.

He closed the distance fast, picking up the conversation as he approached.

"...terribly sorry," Greg Vaughan was saying. "I mean that. I pushed it as far as I could, but the decision was already made. Neil Fenner and Paul Keegan will under no circumstances step foot in that board room." He shook his head. "They just won't listen. But I tried. I really did."

"We know," Neil assured him. "And we appreciate it."

"The whole thing has me sick to my stomach," the attorney admitted. "You know what I mean? Even at the beginning, it felt...I don't know...it felt like something questionable was going on. Now..." he shook his head, "I'm not sure how I feel working for a place where this kind of thing happens. Maybe it's just not for me. When people like Tracy Bunkley can-"

"Don't throw it all on her," Neil interrupted. "If it happens today, then that means that it always could. It was always possible." He shook his head. "Yeah, it's a sad state of affairs, and Tracyisthe primary instigator, but they should all be better than this. They're all letting us down."

Paul turned as David joined the group and waved to him, but didn't speak. Instead, he turned back to Neil.

"What happens now?" he asked. "Vaughan can't get us in, and it's sounding a lot like game over. Are we just fucked?"

Neil bit his thumbnail. "Well, maybe. What time is it?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because it matters. What time is it?"

Paul checked his watch. "Ten."

"Ten exactly?"

He frowned. "Ok. four minutes until. Why?"

"Because board member meetings always break at ten until the hour, and they always get back together when the new hour starts. I'm hoping against hope that I've timed this right."

"Time what right?" Paul asked, but Neil just shrugged and looked around the room, as if searching for something.

David sighed. "Can somebody tell me what's going on? Why is a company attorney on our side all of the sudden? And who was this custodian Charles saw?"

Paul opened his mouth, but Vaughan interjected before he could speak. "Mr. Fenner called early this morning and asked if he could speak with me. I told him that I didn't feel it was appropriate, because I represented the company and there were more appropriate channels for him to go through. Still, he was...persistent...and a few of his phrases caught my ear. I relented, mostly to placate him. I offered to listen to what he had to say over the phone, and I didn't expect to pay much attention. But....well, when he told me what he thought Tracy Bunkley was up to..."

"Tracy?" David frowned. "What is she doing?"

Neil smiled. "It's a long story," he said. "If we can get through today, then you'll know it all."

Paul glanced sideways at his contemporary. "The simple version is she committed a crime, and now she wants to frame us for it."

David stared. "The Techinica? Really? You think Tracy's the one setting us up? Shouldn't we go to the police about that?"

Vaughan shook his head. "Not yet you shouldn't. You'd be wasting your time. Right now, almost no evidence exists that you can use. So you could talk to the police, but you wouldn't get a lot of reaction from them. Law enforcement generally likes to avoid getting wrapped up in the internal workings of the business world. It keeps them from getting used as a way for people to exercise or manipulate power. And that doesn't mean that they stay away, mind you. It just means that they like to walk a very thin line. The companies that get burned by law aren't burned because a crime occurred within their walls, but because their internal systems failed to catch, analyze, and report the crime in a timely fashion." He nodded at the suits. "They get punished for not recognizing and reporting. And that's what this morning's meeting is really about. That's why it's so crowded in there. The FMEA is the first real document showing evidence of a crime, and now the company is going to be obligated to report that. It's in their best interest to have as much of a game plan as they possibly can before hand, because they can't afford any further damage to the brand name." He scratched at his forehead. "They're looking for spin. For a way out. What we need to do, if we can, is to work within that reality."

David looked at him with doubt in his eyes. "You sound awfully convinced for someone who only just hopped the fence this morning...and who just pointed out that there's no evidence on our side. What's the deal?"

"I listened to Neil's story, I added what I'd already observed to it, and then I went with my gut." He smiled. "Nothing more than that."

"That's it? And you believed him, just like that? Enough to put yourself on the line with us?"

Vaughan shrugged. "His version seemed a good deal more plausible to me than the one I was hearing passed around upstairs. And I already felt like that Tracy woman was more than a little..." he trailed off, winked, but didn't say any more. "Anyway, I'm not really on the line. The worst that could happen to me is that I'll be a little less popular with the old men upstairs. I won't lose any sleep over it."

David glanced at Neil, looking for more. Neil complied. "I noticed at the meeting on Wednesday that Vaughan didn't seem overly...receptive...to Tracy's interjections. There wasn't a lot of respect being passed between them, and I got the distinct impression that he resented her trying to use him as a means to intimidate us. And since he was so careful to err on the side of professionalism, to the point of being upset about her derailments, I thought he might be a bit more open-minded than some of his contemporaries when I brought her name up."

"And the custodian?"

"Went to college with me. Wanted to be an engineer...badly. I'd say he wanted it more than most, but he was way over his head. Halfway through our second year he had to drop out, and I didn't expect to ever see him again. I guess he bummed around different jobs for a while, but never really found a place that made him happy, so he ended up taking the custodial work here just to be around the field."

Paul nodded. "Neil used to bring him in to a lot of our discussions, even get his feedback on things, before they shipped him upstairs. That was the year you transferred in, I think."

David frowned. "Oh, yeah. I guess I remember you mentioning him, once or twice."

Paul glanced at Neil. "I think being included that way meant a lot to him. Being some part of the process, and being given that level of respect. He works the head offices, now, and he doesn't get any of that up there. What he does get is to overhear a lot of things that never filter down this far. Neil thought he would be able to keep us keyed in on what was going on. He was right."

Vaughan opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word Neil cursed. "They're heading back into the boardroom. Looks like the cavalry isn't coming in time, gentlemen."

"What cavalry?" David asked.

Just then, heads all around the office area started turning toward the entryway. Murmuring, low at first and then louder, spread like wildfire. Some of the people heading back towards the boardroom caught the racket and turned to look. More than one curse erupted, and some of them leaned into each other for frantic whispered conversations.

"Ah," smiled Neil. "Thank God. She's here."

Moira Adams strode confidently toward the board room crowd, dressed in a gray power suit that made her seem almost at home in the office area. A cracked leather side bag hung from her shoulder and bounced rhythmically against her hip. A lone strand of her light brown hair hung down over her face. The rest was pulled back. She smiled a doctor's smile, equal parts disarming and foreboding, as she reached the cluster of suits and began talking animatedly with them.

"That's the reporter!" Vaughan exclaimed. "And she's early. This will not be received pleasantly at all."

David glanced sideways at Neil. "Are you trying to tell us thatshe'syour cavalry?" he asked. "Fuck, Neil. Do you knoweverybody?"

"Don't know her at all," Neil admitted. "But it's a funny thing. It seems that someone contacted her office last night and made it known that an important meeting was scheduled for early this morning, with the fireworks starting at around ten o'clock. They may also have accidentally let it slip," he held up his hands innocently, "that an engineering team was being set up to take a false fall. That some very shady decisions were being made, and that the company was rushing to get them over with before Moira Adams could show up and ruin everything. Conspiracy, manipulation of the truth, and fraud. That's a big story to break. I suppose that any reporter out there would be eager to get their foot in the door."

Vaughan broke into a wide grin, watching the small but confident woman adjust her shoulder bag while she spoke with the red faced, anxiety-riddled old men. "They'll never let her into that meeting, you know," he observed. "But she creates a very big problem for them simply by being here. I suppose the board will now desperately want to avoid looking like a lynch mob." He turned to the three men. "Gentlemen," he said, "I think maybe it's a good time for me to reintroduce my suggestion that you be allowed to present your case."

"That," Neil agreed, "sounds like a fantastic idea."

-=-=-

Cecile turned the gun over in his hand, running his thumb across the light's reflection. Cool metallic necessity brushed against his skin. It disappointed him. He shouldn't have to be in this position. It was their fault that he'd come to this point. It wasn't fair.

Neil Fenner had ruined his life. Neil, and Tracy Bunkley. He bared his teeth. Just thinking their names was becoming too much to bare. It drew righteously indignant heat, flushing his cheeks and drying his mouth. But it also made the gun feel right.

Then he thought of Gina, of her body soft and warm beneath his, and the gun felt wrong again. What was he doing? She would never understand this. She would never forgive him. It was a pathway to lonely, aching permanence. If he didn't put the weapon away, and do it soon, then one way or another he would lose her forever.

But that was a joke, wasn't it? Gina was lost already. Cecile wasn't stupid. It didn't matter what Tracy promised in order to placate him; he knew the truth. He had heard the desperation in Gina's voice when she insisted on rushing home to her husband. Tracy hadn't. He had heard the change when she'd demanded to know what he'd done with the letter, when she'd told him to go to hell. He'd understood the tone as clearly as the words themselves. Tracy hadn't heard any of it. She hadn't had to, and she wouldn't have cared if she had.

So no matter what she tried to tell him, Cecile did know that one all-important truth: he would never hold Gina Fenner again.

The idea of a lifetime without her, knowing every day that she was withNeilinstead, was too much. He shouldn't have to live with that. Goddamn it, it wasn't fair!

And, yes, Neil might end up in prison, but that was irrelevant. Contrary to what Tracy believed, or wanted him to think, Gina would wait for her husband. She would wait forever if needs be. They could lock Neil up in a cell by himself and throw away the key, but Gina would still be with him every moment of every day.

The way she could have been with Cecile.

His grip tightened on the handle of the gun.

And goddamn Tracy. After all, it was her fault that he'd done what he had. It was her plan, her sick vision and her honeyed words. She'd known what would happen. She'd seen it with a gypsy's clarity. And yet still she'd pushed, manipulated, and controlled him. She had turned him into a murderer. He spat on the ground.

He'd bought this weapon, a T/C pistol, two years ago. He'd only ever fired it once. Today, that would change.

He would have to run afterward. That much was clear. In fact, he'd already packed up as much as he could fit into his car and filled the gas tank. There was six hundred dollars in cash in his wallet. He knew there ought to be more, that there were other things he should be doing, but he had no guide because he had no plan. Just want on top of want on top of want.

It was ten o'clock in the morning when he climbed into his car.

You'll never know it, Gina,he thought, but I'm doing this for you.

He was late for work.

-=-=-

Neil and Paul stood anxiously at the front of the board room. Greg Vaughan took a seat in the corner closest to where they stood. His seat at the table, with the other attorneys, was therefore left ominously vacant. This caused a few tense glances between board members and some questioning looks from his peers, but no one seemed willing to acknowledge his decision verbally. Instead, they sat silently and waited.

Altogether, nearly two dozen men and three women huddled around the enormous table. Their expressions ranged from angry to nervous to amused, but no one looked bored. Tracy Bunkley stood out, perhaps, because she was one of the few women in the room and because she was clearly working hard to mask her increasingly frayed nerves. Neil and Paul making it into the board room had not been part of her plan.

While they waited for everyone to get settled, Paul leaned over to Neil and whispered, "Okay. Here we are. So what do we do now?"

"We don't really have much of a case to present," Neil whispered back. "Just a lot of hearsay." To his friend's horrified face, he smiled and winked. "That doesn't mean we're finished. I do have a suggestion."

"Which is?"

"That we do what we do best: piss Tracy Bunkley off."

Paul snorted. "And that'll help because?"

"Because we're right, and because she's the only other person in this room who knows it."

One of the older men, a bald and wiry fellow, waved his hands impatiently. "We have a lot of important decisions to make today, Mr. Fenner, and my belly is growling. So why don't we go ahead and get this...interruption...over with as quickly as possible."

Neil shrugged, and said, "I realize that you're busy. I want to thank you all in advance for listening to our little presentation before you go about the mundane minutia of burying this company forever. Let me first say that-"

"Excuse me," a heavy, bearded man grunted, "but we're doing you a favor here, son. That kind of talk seems disrespectful and unnecessary. It's not going to win anybody over, if that's your intention." Tracy smirked, and Neil made a point of meeting her eyes as he continued.

"No disrespect intended. I just think the facts support that outcome. After all, what are you looking at right now? At least one hundred and thirty known automobile accidents...probably climbing and already including at least one fatality...all blamed on the Technica. A lawsuit jointly filed by multiple insurance companies...one that initially sought six-point-eight million dollars but will probably climb above ten when Mrs. Adams' article comes out. And, now, we have in our very own hands an FMEA report showing a pedal linkage flaw that isnotin the approved plans....a report that, simply by stating the known facts, very clearly suggests tampering." He looked around the room. "But oh well, right? It can't all be roses. And, I mean, I can't be the only person here thinking that maybe tampering is agood thing."He laughed. "That sounds crazy, doesn't it? Sure it does. But we are nothing if not desperate for a way out. We, as a company, are just one tiny step away from the end. The death of an American brand. Maybe the only hope we have left is to find a scapegoat. Someone that we can put all the blame on. Someone that can be accused of purposefully and maliciously producing this error, and who can take that hard fall for the good of the company." He shrugged lazily. "Now, if we have to embrace a little stubborn deception to get this done...possibly even commit perjury...well, we'll have to take that risk. Lives are at stake and time is of the essence, you know?" He took a deep breath, locking eyes with each person in turn. "That's where we stand right now: on the brink of illegal and unethical desperation. Luckily for you, there's no need to debase yourselves. You can get what you want, which is to save your business, and see justice done at the same time. All you have to do, when you leave this room, is contact the authorities and have Tracy Bunkley and Cecile Schaefer arrested."