The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One)

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The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One) Page 9

by Bruce Fottler


  “You and me both.”

  Susan paused and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Sam, are you sure about her?”

  “Hell, yeah. One of those things that was right under my nose the whole time.”

  “You do have quite a blind spot there. So, when can I come and visit your new place?”

  “Drop by anytime, just like you always did here.”

  Susan shook her head and shuddered. “Thanks, but I think I'll call first. I don't want to be walking in on anything.”

  “Ouch. You're never going to let this go, are you?”

  Susan laughed, got up, and picked up his box of belongings. “Ready to go?”

  “Hey, I can handle that,” Sam protested.

  Susan gave him a mischievous grin. “I'd better get this, since you had such a strenuous night.”

  Wednesday, July 13, 1994

  Blanchard Corporation - Chelmsford, Massachusetts

  “You're really taking Sam to Phoenix next week?” Walt asked Ken as he handed over a white envelope. “In July?”

  “Yeah, I've got to get him up to speed in a hurry,” Ken replied as he took a pair of Red Sox tickets out of the envelope for a look. “Third-base line?”

  “Same seats as last year, but keep your fingers crossed. There might be a strike.”

  Ken chuckled. “Yeah, right. Like the MLB would ever really go out on strike.”

  “I know it's still early, but how's Sam doing?”

  “I have to admit I like him already. Hard worker and he's picking things up pretty quickly. But the hardest part is still ahead of him. It's all going to be about how he handles things once the training wheels come off. That's still a little ways off, but I plan to work him hard to get him ready. There are a couple location supervisors I'm concerned about. At least one of them is bound to give him a hard time once he goes solo.”

  “I think I know who you're talking about,” Walt carefully replied and then leaned in to continue in a lower tone. “Maybe Dallas should be Sam's first solo act?”

  “Seriously? Throwing him in front of Terry that early would be like tossing a piece of fresh meat in front of a hungry lion.”

  “Exactly. Think about it. You can get rid of a problem-child while giving Sam a key boost in stature.”

  Ken grimaced. “Terry's a pain-in-the-ass, but he's also the most experienced software engineer I have in the Dallas group. We risk losing a lot of productivity.”

  “Just a suggestion,” Walt mumbled with a sly smile. “It's your house. You should decide when some house-cleaning is needed. However, if I remember right, most of the difficult software development is finished. The rest of his team is more than qualified to handle what's left.”

  Ken paused and took in a deep breath. “Are you sure about this? It's going to be hard enough for Sam to make friends being the auditor, but that kind of reputation boost could make it an awfully lonely existence for him.”

  “He'll be fine. Oh, and did I mention I could probably score you some Patriots tickets to the home opener?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Saturday, July 16, 1994

  Regal Apartments - Lowell, Massachusetts

  “Very nice, in a temporary sort of way,” Susan concluded after Sam gave her a short tour of his new apartment.

  “I'm going to meet with a realtor next week to look at some condos in the area. I really hope I'm not stuck here too long.”

  “How's work going?” Susan asked as she opened the refrigerator and found her favorite diet soda. Sam had purchased a six-pack especially for her, just as he would have while living at the Bridge House. He was happy to see she was making herself right at home.

  “Very busy. I finished orientation last week and I'm following my boss around to learn everything. I'm heading to Phoenix tomorrow afternoon to visit one of the facilities.”

  Susan opened her soda and sat at the kitchen table. “Oh, travel. Cool. What sort of project is this?”

  “Sorry, I can't say specifically. Government defense secrets.”

  “Secrets? Even cooler.”

  “How are things with you?”

  “Oh, I'm fine. Still playing receptionist for the crooks at the dealership. They're pretty shrewd with the customers, but I swear those guys couldn't find the bathroom without me drawing it out in crayon for them.”

  “Are they still treating you okay?”

  Susan scowled. “Always the same. I'm still the little girl that amuses them. I actually wouldn't mind if one of them tried to hit on me once in a while. You know, to let me know I'm not being confused with one of the teenaged boys that jockey cars around the lot.”

  “Oh, come on, it can't be that bad.”

  “Yes, Sam, it's always the same. But it's okay. It's who I am. Flat chest, flat butt, which rounds out my endearing boyish figure.”

  Sam stood in silence and glared at her.

  “What?” Susan finally asked.

  “I think it's the first time you've actually said something to piss me off.”

  “Really? Now that's interesting.”

  “I'm serious,” Sam demanded in an irritated tone. “I don't want to hear you describe yourself like that ever again. You're one of the nicest looking girls I know. Why--” Sam paused, fumbling for the right words. “You have a very nice body and, well, a butt most girls would die to have. And yes, I actually overheard Emily and Angela say that once. So, there.”

  Susan sat in stunned silence.

  “Look,” Sam continued, “I really wish you'd stop trying to act like a tomboy. You've always been too pretty to pull it off.”

  Susan continued to sit with her mouth hanging half open.

  Sam relaxed his stern demeanor. “Sorry, that was a bit harsh.”

  Susan got up, walked over to him, and gave him a big hug. “That was quite possibly the most wonderful thing you've ever said to me. Thank you.”

  “I'll call and say it to you every day if it would get you to believe it.”

  “Would Angela mind?”

  “She'd say the same thing.”

  “But I bet you like her butt much more than mine. Oh, sorry, did I just say that out loud?”

  Sam cringed. “That's just wrong.”

  Susan laughed as she sat. “Oh, I live to see that perplexed expression on your face.”

  Sam grabbed a beer and sat down. “So, now that we've settled that, how about a scouting report? Are people in the CYA group using my name as a bad word yet?”

  “Oh, I'd say you're not exactly going to be sainted anytime soon. Ron and Tom are pretty ripped at you. They made sure that your situation was shared as a prayer request at the last Bible study.”

  Sam groaned. “And you wondered why I stopped going to those things? It's like open season on gossip, so long as it's presented as a request for prayer.”

  “Yeah, but most of the time it's unintentional. Their hearts are in the right place, but it just comes out wrong.”

  “I haven't talked with Angela since Tuesday. She said she skipped the Bible study.”

  Susan's expression dropped. “It didn't surprise me she wasn't there. I'm afraid the situation is getting intense for her.”

  “What's happening?”

  “Sam, it's starting to get ugly. The other girls are upset and are trying to browbeat her into intercessory talks about what she did.”

  “Intercessory talks?”

  “That's Christian code for ganging up on her until she repents.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “First it was Laura, then Emily, and the rest are waiting in line. I told you things were getting ugly. Again, their hearts are in the right place but--”

  “Are you getting pulled into this?”

  “I had my turn with her yesterday.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Susan giggled. “We had a nice long talk. I told her if she did anything to hurt you, I'd hunt her down and shoot her like a rabid animal. Funny, she gave me the biggest hug after that. Go figure.”

/>   Sam laughed. “Thanks.”

  “Well, don't get too relaxed,” Susan cautioned as she grew serious. “I think this whole thing is going to get worse. I've never seen this group so worked up over anything. It's building into quite a scandal.”

  “I thought you Christians were about love and forgiveness.”

  “We are. But like a lot of things in life, it's easy to talk about it until you actually have to do it. We're just human like anyone else. We make mistakes. We can handle things poorly.”

  “Do you think I'm breaking too many rules?”

  “I can't expect you to honor rules you never made a commitment to.”

  “That's sort of vague.”

  Susan nodded. “Ever hear from Carlos?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Kinda relieved, actually. Besides having to dredge up all the shit he tried to pull, I'd probably have to tell him I stole his ex.”

  Susan smiled and shook her head.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “The fact that something like that bothers you is, well, terribly endearing.”

  * * *

  “So, Emily cornered me before I left to feel me out if I planned to spend the night with you again,” Angela explained to Sam as they ate Chinese take-out in his apartment. Sam changed their dinner plans so they could stay in and relax. Angela wasn't up to going out.

  “Sues stopped by for a visit today. She painted the same picture.”

  “She's the only one that's been good to me.”

  “She's a gem.”

  Angela paused, sighed, and put down her fork. “Honestly, it's getting worse than I expected. I've never seen them so agitated. I'm paranoid every time I enter my apartment, like there's going to be a group of them waiting to trap me in some sort of intervention. I don't know how much more I can take. It's like I'm trapped in some sort of cult.”

  “What in hell do they expect you to do?”

  “It doesn’t matter. There's no pleasing them because I think they’re all mad at me for reasons they won't admit. Laura is pissed at me, probably because she resents me being with you. Emily is just jealous because she doesn’t get much attention from guys. I think most of the guys are just mad at you for taking me off the market, as if I was remotely interested in any of them.” Angela paused and looked at Sam, noticing his dour expression. “Hey, that last part was supposed to be a joke.”

  Sam didn't laugh. He only looked down and gritted his teeth in exasperation. After a few seconds of stewing, he looked back up to Angela. “This is getting totally out of control. I'm going to have a talk with Laura. This has to stop.”

  “I don't think that's going to help. She's as convinced as the others that I can somehow be shamed back into their idea of normal.”

  Sam rose, walked across the living room to the doorway of his bedroom, and then back into the living room. Angela quietly watched in puzzlement as he gazed around in deep thought.

  “What are you doing?”

  Sam smiled, walked back into the kitchen, and sat back down. “I have an idea.”

  “Idea?”

  “I want you to stay here with me.”

  “What?”

  “I know it's sudden, but there's no way I can send you back into that hell-hole to endure more of their religious bullshit. I want you to stay with me until things settle down.”

  “I don't think things would ever settle down if I did that. It would only escalate the trouble.”

  “Then move in. There's plenty of room here and there's a little more storage in the basement. How much stuff do you have?”

  “Seriously? Move in with you?”

  “Yes, move in with me. Or you can concede to them and stop our relationship, because it's the only thing that will stop the harassment.”

  “I'm not going to allow them to pick my boyfriends,” Angela bristled.

  “That's what I thought.”

  “Well, Laura and Emily own all the furniture. I don't have anything big, just lots of clothes and stuff.”

  Sam smiled. “Then we can get you out of there pretty fast. You can stay here tonight and go down tomorrow to pack up. I have to fly out to Phoenix tomorrow afternoon, but I'm pretty sure I can get Sues to help you pack. It'll also be good to have her around as a buffer, just in case.”

  “But what about my job?”

  “That would be the downside. It would be a rough commute to Watertown from here.”

  “I guess I could look for another job in this area.”

  “You could even quit now. There wouldn't be a big rush to find a new one.”

  “My parents. I don't know how they'd feel about it. Well, actually I do. It won't go over very well.”

  “Deal with them later. It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

  “That's easy to say now, and not that it's worked well so far for us.”

  “Would you rather go back to the freak show at your apartment?”

  Angela rose and walked into the living room. She slowly looked around as she let the implications wash over her. After a minute of quiet reflection, she turned back to Sam. “You would do all this for me?”

  “Of course I would. You're not going to have to spend another night in that apartment. They're not going to own you. The craziness can end right now.”

  Angela blurted out a sigh and tears came to her eyes. “I don't know what to say.”

  “Well, yes would be nice.”

  She immediately nodded her head. “Yes, yes!”

  Monday, July 18, 1994

  Blanchard Corporation – Phoenix, Arizona

  “It's actually not too bad today,” Ken explained to Sam as they got out of their rental car in the parking garage. The sticky heat was similar to what they left in Boston the day before, and Sam was disappointed not to experience the intense Arizona summer he'd always heard about. However, it was still uncomfortable to be dressed in suits. It felt refreshing to pass through the cold barrier of air-conditioning when they entered the sprawling facility.

  “This place looks huge,” Sam commented after passing through the main security desk.

  “Over a million square feet. We have a couple of aerospace manufacturing lines here.”

  “Cool. Anything I can see?”

  “Probably not. Security is pretty tight. You could ask Walt when we catch up with him this afternoon, but I doubt you'd get to see anything interesting. We're only allowed into areas that relate to our project.”

  Sam frowned and continued to follow Ken through a maze of hallways. They eventually arrived at the department they came to visit. Ken made quick introductions and Sam settled into his tasks. Ken left him to his work and wandered into the office of Joanne Lee, development director of the Phoenix facility. He first peered in and saw her on the phone. She was in her early thirties with a rather intense posture. She smiled and waved him in.

  “Ken, great to see you again,” Joanne warmly said as she hung up her phone. “Have a seat. What have you been up to?”

  “Just showing my new project auditor around.”

  “Ah, is that the new kid they just hired for you? I heard you didn't even get to interview him.”

  Ken chuckled. “Yeah, get ready. It's the newest thing heading your way.”

  “So I've heard. How's your newbie working out?”

  “Not bad, actually. He's a good kid. I still don't know what to expect once I cut him loose on his own.”

  Joanne laughed. “Oh, please, Ken. You've been spending too much time around corporate. You should know exactly what's ahead for this poor kid. Some chilly receptions, with a probable meltdown in Dallas.”

  “I take it the new hiring process isn't going over too well out here in the field?”

  “Hey, I'm still getting over the audacity of it all.”

  “Now, now,” Ken mockingly scolded. “Weren’t you recruited through a similar program?”

  “Yes, but I seem to remember getting a start as a lowl
y accounts payable clerk with my Stanford MBA. Not a mid-level position at three times the salary.”

  “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Joanne.”

  Joanne gave a dismissive snicker. “What did Walt have to say about it?”

  “He fed me the standard company rah-rah bullshit and greased it with some Red Sox tickets.”

  “Typical Walt.”

  “It's another one of those director golden boy specials. My sources tell me Drake has an eye on him.”

  Joanne's friendly demeanor suddenly chilled. “I've already told my people to be careful with him. Shall we get down to business? I've got my teams burning through a lot of hours on your project. I'd like to know if the funding is going to be there for all this work.”

  “That's never been an issue before. What's up?”

  “Seriously? What do you mean what's up?”

  “Sorry, I'm not following.”

  Joanne's glare tightened on Ken. “Jesus, you really have been spending too much time in Chelmsford. Your new auditor is Drake's new golden boy, and you wonder why I want to cover my ass? Please take a few minutes to connect the dots and allow me to be extra careful about dealing with your project from now on.”

  “Whoa, Joanne. It's me. Your buddy from Boston.”

  “Sorry, Ken. You know how things work. Buddies from Boston aren't going to help me when the music stops and I'm without a money chair.”

  * * *

  “So, what about those missile upgrades?” Eva asked Walt as he entered a cavernous aircraft assembly building. They stood in front of a half-finished fighter-jet. Many exterior panels had yet to be installed, which left a number of openings where technicians installed and tested equipment.

  “Eva, good to see you,” Walt replied with his classic winsome smile. “Looking over your new ride?”

  “It's going to be a goddamn waste of money if I can't shoot anything with it,” Eva tersely replied.

 

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