Sam's radio was cycling through another traffic report when he exited the highway. His journey north on Route 3 was something new, as his prior commute took him south. Besides a brief hang-up around an interchange, he was pleased to be going against the flow of commuters streaming down from New Hampshire. He lowered the windows a little further as he approached the end of the ramp. The air conditioner in his aging Honda Accord wasn't working, which forced him to endure a warm, sticky morning trip with only a fan and cracked windows to preserve his perfectly combed hair. His old Honda had been faithful, but age was catching up with it. Certain accessories, such as the air conditioner, had failed. He simply didn’t have enough money to fix it or to buy another car.
He crossed over the highway and turned onto Blanchard Drive. The Blanchard Corporation owned all the modern-looking office buildings on the road, and Sam eventually located the corporate headquarters office at the end of the cul-de-sac. He parked his car in one of the visitor spots, rolled up the windows, shut off the engine, and took in a deep breath. He picked up a black portfolio folder on the passenger seat and got out, pausing to open the back door to retrieve his suit jacket. He put it on and took a quick look at his dim reflection in the side window. His charcoal suit appeared to be in order, but he still wondered if the bright red tie was a little too much. Most important, his hair was still in order. As he turned to walk to the entrance, he couldn’t help but notice the newer, expensive cars parked around him. He looked back to his fading champagne beige Honda and sighed.
The main lobby was a two-story open concept that featured a tall wall of windows at the entrance. There were numerous over-sized planter boxes containing a variety of green leafy plants and small trees. An attractive, slender receptionist sat at a large desk at the far side with a pair of elevator doors behind her. She looked up and greeted Sam with a pleasant smile.
“Can I help you?”
“Hi, I've got a nine-o'clock interview with Christine Haynes.”
“You must be Samuel Maxwell,” she replied with a soothing voice. “I'll let her know you're here. You can have a seat over there and we'll need you to fill out this employment application.”
“Isn't this a bit repetitive?”
“Sorry, it's company policy for all applicants to fill out and sign an employment application.”
“Okay,” Sam replied as she handed him a clipboard. He walked over and sat near a garden of flowers next to the front windows. In all, it was an elaborate and tastefully decorated lobby. Impressive, beautifully adorned, and yet unpretentious.
Soon after he finished the application, one of the elevator doors opened. A petite blonde woman walked out, dressed in a red, form-fitting, pencil skirt suit. She had a professional but noticeably alluring presence. Sam guessed that she was in her early thirties, as most people would. Christine spent a great deal of effort to keep herself fit and always relished how it shaved a few years off of her appearance.
“Samuel?”
“Yes,” Sam replied as he walked over.
“I'm Christine Haynes, welcome.” A handshake ensued. “Am I correct that people normally call you Sam?”
“They certainly do.”
“Good, and I see you've filled out the application.”
“I have.” Sam handed her the clipboard.
“Excellent, now we can get started.” Christine motioned to the elevator and Sam followed. “Did you find us okay?”
“Not a problem.”
“I imagine the traffic was pretty light coming up from the south,” Christine said as she pressed a button to summon the elevator.
“Once I got past the interchange, it was a speed limit ride all the way up.”
“The traffic patterns on Route 3 would favor a commute from Lexington, once you get clear of 128. There's talk they're going to widen it soon, too.”
“Much better than my old commute.”
“Yes, I saw on your resume that your last job was at Smithfield,” Christine replied with a shake of her head as the elevator chimed and the doors opened. “I admire your slugging it out every morning in heavy traffic all the way down to Westwood. It’s a nice area up here in the North. Most people down in the 128 belt don't think there's much civilization up here.”
The elevator let them off at the third floor and they soon reached a conference room. It was small and occupied by someone patiently waiting for them to enter. He stood up in his dark Brooks Brothers pinstripe suit, accented by a bright yellow tie. Sam was instantly at ease with his own choice of tie.
“Sam, this is Walter Thompson, executive vice president of our advanced technologies division.”
Walt stood up and extended his hand for a handshake. He too was in good physical shape, despite the fact that his neatly trimmed but mostly balding head suggested he was well into his forties. “Sam, it's really great to meet you.”
“Walt's going to sit in with us,” Christine explained as she found a seat. “The position will be working in his division.”
“We in senior management like to take a hands-on approach to hiring new talent,” Walt added in a congenial tone. “I won't be the direct manager, but I still like to meet our candidates.”
“Can we get you anything to drink?” Christine asked. “Coffee perhaps?”
“No thanks,” Sam replied as he sat in the comfortable high-backed chair, “I already stopped for some on my way here. I'm all set.”
“Dunkin Donuts?” Walt asked, wanting to make a connection.
“Nothing better,” Sam replied with a grin.
Walt smiled. “I agree.”
“Before we start,” Christine began as she reached into a folder, “there's a little bit of paperwork we need to address. Please don't be alarmed, but we need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. It's a simple document that's necessary because we're going to discuss aspects of this position that involve certain confidential company developments.”
“It's basically something to prevent you from saying anything to potential competitors if you aren't hired to work here,” Walt continued as Christine slid a two-paged document across the table to Sam. “Pretty standard for this type of position, and don't worry, we're not interested in your first-born or anything like that.”
Sam chuckled as he glanced over the document. After a minute of attempting to decipher the legalese, he gave up and reached for a pen from inside his suit jacket.
“I always like it when someone comes prepared,” Christine noted with a smile to Walt as Sam signed both pages of the document. “Great, we can get started.”
“Sam,” Walt began with a winsome smile, “this is not going to be a typical interview. We'll get right to the bottom line because we've already done all our homework on you. I'm going to surprise you by saying we've made up our minds. We want you on the team, so you don't need to convince us to hire you. What we're here to do today is to give you a clearer picture of the position so you can decide if you want the job.” Walt paused to carefully observe Sam's reaction, which was predictably baffled.
“That part usually throws people,” Christine interjected with a grin.
“I can see why,” Sam replied.
“Sam,” Christine continued in a confident tone, “you probably know we're a seven-billion dollar company that employs over fifty thousand people. We pride ourselves on having the lowest employee turnover in the industry, mainly because of our record setting employee satisfaction. But it's all because we spend a lot of effort vetting our candidates ahead of time, so when we reach this point, we're already sure of you. We want this to be the place you come to work for and end up staying for a long career.”
“Sam,” Walt said after a pause, “what do you know about LIDAR?”
It took Sam a second to collect himself to answer. “Um, that's light detection and ranging, right?”
“Correct. It's considered the next generation of remote sensing technology. Radar on steroids. My division has developed a first generation of ultrahigh resolution LIDAR.
Now we're attempting to further refine it for a number of commercial and military applications. The project is named Dignosco, which is Latin for to distinguish. The position we want you to consider is the quality assurance auditor for this project. This is a critical function that reports to and works alongside the project manager, or PM as we call them. You'll interact with the development teams and finance support to monitor processes in order to assure compliance to our project guidelines. You'll learn about the various aspects of the project and basically be the PM's second set of eyes on everything. I won't sugarcoat it; it's going to be challenging. It'll test and stretch everything you know, and it'll require solid interpersonal skills as well as a keen aptitude for engineering. But we're certain you can handle it.”
“Due to government contract requirements,” Christine continued, “the position requires a secret level clearance. We don't see any issue with you being able to obtain that. There will be some travel involved, possibly international, but your office will be located here in the Chelmsford campus. We'll also help you obtain a passport. We've prepared a detailed written offer that I'd like you to take and read over. In addition to the salary, I want you to note you'll receive a generous hiring bonus. We have full medical, dental, and 401k. Vacation and sick time are handled as needed, but you're eligible for three paid weeks after three months. Most everything else is standard and there are some nice little perks you won't see at other companies.”
“Now that we have your head spinning,” Walt said with a chuckle, “we'd like you to take some time to study the offer. I'm sure you'll notice our salary offer is on the higher end. It's because we know you're interviewing with other companies, and quite frankly, we want our salary offer to make your decision much easier to make. When you've made up your mind, simply call and give us your answer. Do you have any questions?”
Sam paused as he looked over the offer summary page. Walt and Christine took careful note of his expressions. A faint grin came to Walt's face after he saw Sam's eyes widen ever so slightly.
“So, what authority would I have as a quality assurance auditor?” Sam asked after his short perusal.
“Good question,” Walt acknowledged with a smile. “Once you're up to speed, which will likely take a few weeks, you're going to be like a federal marshal among the local sheriffs. While you'll leave the locals to oversee their issues, you'll have override on anything you see as an ongoing problem. This is a large budget program, and the PM will be relying on you as the final line of oversight.”
“That sounds like a lot of responsibility,” Sam noted with some hesitancy.
“We're confident you'll learn to handle it,” Walt replied. “We have a lot of very good people on this project, so I doubt you'll run into anything that will cause significant trouble or friction. The PM is top-shelf, too. You'll have a lot of strong support.”
“When do you need an answer?” Sam asked Walt.
“Let's say if you haven't made up your mind by the end of the week, give me a call and we can talk more about it.”
“Okay, that works for me.”
“My phone number is in there,” Walt pointed out. “Please, don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions or concerns. When you've come to a decision, all you have to do is to give Christine a call.”
“And I'll be looking forward to that call,” Christine added with a gleam.
Sam closed the offer and put it into his portfolio folder. “Well, I guess I have some thinking to do. Do we need to cover anything else?”
“That's it,” Walt said with a wave of his hands. “I told you it would be a different kind of interview.”
“The best one I've ever had,” Sam admitted as he stood up and exchanged handshakes. Christine escorted him back to the elevator and left him to ride it alone to the lobby.
Once Sam was on his way down, she walked down the hallway and found Walt standing at a large window overlooking the front parking lot. They watched Sam leave the building and walk to his car.
“So?” Christine asked.
“I have to admit, he gave me a much better impression than I expected.”
“Told you so.”
Walt turned to Christine and looked her over. “I see you went with the tight red outfit.”
“Too much?”
“I think it worked fine.”
“It's my go-to for these pitches,” Christine confessed as she tugged at the backside of her skirt. “I'm always concerned I'm getting a little too old to pull it off anymore.”
“Oh, you still have it,” Walt teased with a gleaming smile.
Christine gave a dismissive smirk as they turned to watch Sam drive away. “So, do you think we hooked him?”
“Oh, yes. No doubt that kid thinks he just won the damn lottery.”
“I saw some doubt.”
“Really? I'll bet you a hundred dollars he'll accept by the end of Wednesday.”
“Wow, a hundred? You're that sure?”
“With what he drove out of the parking lot? He's a typical post-graduate who's got a lot of school loans to pay back, but wants to upgrade at the same time. The way he eyed those other cars as he walked by them told me everything I needed to know. His mind is already at a car dealership.”
“You seem to have him all figured out.”
“Because I already know him. I look at him every day in the mirror. So, what about that bet?”
Christine laughed. “A hundred? I've learned to stop taking those bets with you. Do you think it's even worth our time to poison his other interviews?”
“Don't bother. He's all ours.”
Bridge House - Lexington, Massachusetts
Sam drove home from the interview in a state of near shock. Once home, he went for a long jog to try to clear his mind. He wanted his thoughts to be sharp and his excitement tempered in order to carefully examine the offer details. After a careful read-through, he took a break to stretch out his legs, then returned to reread the details of the offer. He meticulously reviewed each word, as if some might have magically disappeared or somehow altered themselves while he stepped away.
Every time he reread the offer, his verdict was the same. It was a generous salary with an unusually high signing bonus. No hooks. No catches. No fine print to blunt his euphoria. A paranoia overcame him because it all looked too good to be true. There was no way he could imagine other companies coming close to matching this offer. Over and over again, he desperately tried to find a reason to doubt that it was really the best offer of his life. His mind raced over what wasn't in the offer, or what questions he failed to ask during the interview. What were the hidden risks? Bad management? Or perhaps the job itself would prove to be too stressful? Despite the dire scenarios that ran through his mind, he would return to one conclusion: if the job wasn't what he thought it was, he could just quit and move on.
Ron's shift at his car rental agency job ended early that day, and he came home with a few bags of needed groceries. Sam heard him drive up and looked out the side door in time to see him pulling paper sacks out of his trunk.
“Need help?” Sam asked after opening the door.
“Yeah, we've got to get this frozen stuff into the freezer before we lose it in this heat.”
Sam grabbed a couple of bags, brought them in, and immediately started to put the refrigerated items away. Ron stumbled in shortly after with the remaining sacks piled high in his arms.
“Hey, how did it go?” Ron asked as he maneuvered a controlled spill of the bags onto the table.
Sam paused and looked at Ron with a perplexed smile. “I don't know if you'll believe it.”
“Is that in a good or bad way?”
“Honestly? Still trying to figure that out.”
Sam spent the next few minutes recounting the short but stunning interview to Ron, who listened with a bemused fascination as he helped put the groceries away.
“That's unbelievable,” Ron concluded with a large grin as he fished out a can of SpaghettiOs from the l
ast sack. He tossed it over to Sam, who caught it and shoved it into an overstuffed cabinet.
“I've been combing over the offer all afternoon and can't find anything wrong with it.”
“Maybe you ought to have a lawyer look it over?”
“I couldn't afford one. Besides, there isn't a lot of fine print. You can look it over if you want. I could use another set of eyes to pick up on anything I might have missed.”
“No problem. I haven't heard anything bad about Blanchard. They're supposed to be a great company to work for. I think there are at least three people in our church who work for them although I'm pretty sure they work out of their Waltham facility.”
“They have lots of divisions and offices around the country.”
“They're huge,” Ron agreed as he sat down to look over the package. His gaze froze on the summary page. “Seriously? That's what they're offering you?”
Sam cringed. “Like I said, almost too good to be true.”
“Sam, dude, looks like you hit a home run. We've been praying for you, but I never expected anything like this to happen. I'm jealous!”
* * *
It was nearing seven o'clock in the evening as Sam sat alone on the couch in their spacious family room. He knew he'd have to move up to his bedroom soon, as the church crowd would start arriving for their weekly Bible study. He had no interest in attending it anymore. At the urging of his housemates, he gave it a try after they moved in together. After a few weeks, he pulled away because he found it too intense for his liking. The group tended to discuss weighty issues that mostly went over his head and put him to sleep. To Sam, it was something that better served those who were more serious about their religion.
The Bridge House was a perfect place for them to meet because the family room could easily accommodate a large crowd. Their home often hosted church group gatherings, so many became comfortable enough to just walk in without a knock.
Sam heard the first car arrive. After the side door opened, followed by footsteps, he soon felt a pair of hands gently rub the top of his shoulders from behind. He knew exactly whose they were.
The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One) Page 3
