“A good start to summer.”
“Yes. I’ll be glad when Rob begins working over at Mail Express. I don’t like him just sitting around the house all day now that school is out.”
“Well, it’s only for this week.” David looked at his watch, stood and walked over to turn the fish.
“I just wish Callie were here, too—even just a visit.” Elizabeth looked over at her husband. When he nodded but said nothing, she continued. “I miss us all being together. Oh, hi!” Elizabeth smiled as Rob joined them on the patio.
“When’ll supper be ready?” Rob asked, eyeing the grill.
“Couple more minutes. Mom’s got everything else ready.”
Turning to his mother, Rob said, “Justin called, and I’m going to spend the night over at his house. OK?”
“I guess so. More computer games?”
“Maybe. Or maybe a movie. Dad, can you take me over to Justin’s after supper?”
“Sure. I’ve got to go into the office tonight.”
Standing, Elizabeth said, “Well, I’ll get the salad and rolls. Rob, can you help me with the food and the iced tea?”
“Sure, Mom.”
Thirty minutes later Rob and his father were in a hurry to leave. “Don’t you want some ice cream?” Elizabeth asked, as they pushed back their chairs.
“Tomorrow,” Rob said.
Looking across the table at her husband, she asked, “And you have to leave, too?”
“I know it’s crazy, dear, but I’ve got an important presentation for Trevor tomorrow, and the plans and plats were just too big to bring home. So I’ll be in the office getting ready.”
Elizabeth frowned. “You guys are no fun. Eat and run. Well, I’ll have a blast cleaning up and then I’ll watch TV.”
“Don’t do too much of that addictive TV,” Rob chided, smiling as he rose with his empty plate.
“Don’t worry. This will be the only TV I’ll see all week.”
“OK, but don’t get hooked!” He disappeared inside.
“I’m sorry, dear.” David rose.
Elizabeth shook her head good naturedly from her chair at the end of the table. “Just no one be out too late, please.”
An hour later Todd Phelps was seated in the special tandem training cubicle at the USNet RTI headquarters. Victor Mustafin was seated beside him, and they were using their headsets to communicate.
“All right, Todd, we’re going to log you in now as a middle manager. Here’s your new password. After today I won’t sit with you. But a senior person will review all your decisions for the first few sessions, and you’ll get a critique with suggestions when you next log on.”
Todd smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good. At this level you’ll be receiving general pass-ups from the entry level monitors. Your role is the same as before: designate the intercept to a specialist, copy it to several specialists, pass it up to the control room, or send it to the dustbin. To help you there are these new menus of policies and history, so you can quickly research how we’ve handled a similar keyword or situation in the past, and also what our current policy on it may be. At this level we hope you’ll take time to think and associate, rather than just pass on.”
Todd scrolled through the two new menus. He was impressed with how comprehensive they were.
“Finally, as we get started, we have one more role for you. With this new password, we’re designating you as a specialist in real estate, which means that you will also receive pass-ups from any entry level analyst in the entire system who believes the intercept requires a real estate expert. Now this is fundamentally different, because with this designation, you can act, not just review and pass. So, for example, if you see a message you think requires us to buy, sell, change a policy—anything—you can initiate it.”
Todd nodded.
Mustafin continued. “Everyone at this level functions as both a general reviewer and a specialist. If you stayed here, you’d be expected to be conversant in at least five specialties. They could be energy, autos, environment, banking—all those same categories that you’ve been sending to. We think real estate is an easy place for you to start, and in the control room you will have to be a bit of a generalist, ready to take on most things. I suggest that whenever you have any free time you scroll back through the History archive on the Real Estate menu. It will show you our current issues and how we handled earlier opportunities.”
Todd shook his head. “Are you sure I’m going to be able to do this?”
Mustafin smiled. “Of course. Here, let’s log on and see what we get.”
When Rob and Justin were let off at the movie by Justin’s older sister, they walked inside but never bought tickets. They had been sure to tell each set of parents that the other would probably pick them up after the movie and a few video games, so they figured that they had at least three hours. A few minutes later, at the appointed time, the familiar silver BMW pulled up outside the theater, and they walked over to it.
Rob opened the passenger door, Justin the back. The driver greeted them. He was in his mid-twenties, well built, with black hair and a small tattoo on each arm. He was wearing a gray T-shirt and black pants over black boots. A ring in each earlobe completed the look. “Hi, guys. Whatzup?” he asked, as they slid into their seats.
“Nothing much,” Rob said, smiling at their new friend.
“We’re going to have a great meeting and a blow-out tonight! You’ll love this guy’s house.”
“How come?” Rob asked, as they pulled out into the traffic.
“It’s wired!” Rob knew from Blue Six’s voice that it must be really something. “He’s got a T-One line to his house, if you can believe that.” The driver looked back and forth from the road to his guests as he spoke. “There’s an HDTV flat screen in every room and two special game rooms with ten virtual floor plates in each one. Three bedrooms with surround sound and flat screens everywhere. When you’re on the bed, it’s like you can imagine you’re anywhere you want. He even closed in the garage and made it mostly a Street War 2100 game room. It’s awesome.”
“Sounds incredible,” Justin said from the backseat.
“We’ll be there in a minute.”
They could tell the home from the cars parked in the drive and on the street. They parked, got out, and walked up to the front door. Blue Six opened it without knocking. He motioned the boys to follow. “The meeting’s probably about to start. All these guys are in Street War 2100 with us. Here, get a beer.”
They walked through the deserted dining room where pizza boxes were open on the table and stood in the kitchen by a keg. They looked out into what had been a family room but was now a large open space outfitted with folding chairs. There was a huge flat-screen TV above the mantel, and speakers on both sides. Their host was wearing a headset and pointing to the screen, while about twenty young men and half as many women watched.
Blue Six whispered as they took their beers and sat at the back of the assembly, “We’re plugged in with about a thousand other Blue players for our usual Sunday night critique. Randy is handling it for our group.”
As the boys watched, Randy and several other group leaders carried on a conversation that the rest could hear over the speakers. Many of that week’s better engagements were replayed on the screen, and the action was stopped at several points for a brief discussion of the tactic employed or the opportunity missed.
The meeting lasted for almost an hour, and Rob learned a lot. He was impressed by the commitment of all these adults to the game he loved so much. He and Justin sipped their beers, occasionally looked at each other, and smiled.
When the tactical session was over, the participants broke into smaller groups, and some went toward other parts of the house. Blue Six took his new friends over to their host, Randy, who was still standing by the mantel.
“Hey, Randy, meet Blue Nine and Blue Ten.”
Randy, tall and thin, was dressed in tight jeans and a shirt that
was almost molded to his body. He extended his hand. “Great to have you. We’ve seen your work. You’re good. Blue Nine, we noted your great move in Wednesday’s game just a few minutes ago. Did you see it?”
Rob beamed and nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
Randy smiled. “Good. Make yourselves at home. We shift to party mode after the recap, to finish off the weekend. Lots will be going on.” He looked down at their empty beer cups. “If you want something stronger, we got plenty. In fact, try these.” He handed each of them a pill. “They’ll make you feel really good while you’re here.”
The two boys exchanged glances, then Rob took a pill and swallowed it. “I’m in,”
“OK…Excuse me for a minute. I’ve gotta shift the mood.”
Randy went over to what would have normally been a built-in bookcase, but in his house it was the control panel for his media/ recreation center. He began pushing buttons.
Rob, Justin and Blue Six were on the way to the kitchen when the lights dimmed down, rock music began playing from every speaker in sight, and the flat screens offered two girls and two guys rapidly peeling in a large bedroom for what promised to be a round of adult entertainment video. The two boys tried to act nonchalant; watching both the screen and Blue Six as he expertly pumped the keg and refilled their cups.
Six glanced up and had a look at the screens. “Not bad tonight. You know, that’s happening just down the hall.”
Justin couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. “What? That’s not a video?”
Six laughed and moved closer to Rob. “No. That’s four members of our Blue Team. We’re a close group.”
Justin stuttered. “You mean those—they’re here? At our meeting?”
“Sure. Randy has cameras everywhere. He can throw any room up on the monitors. Here, have some more beer.”
“And they know?”
Six laughed harder and put his arm loosely around Rob. “Of course! We’re not inhibited. In fact, it’s kinda cool. We’ll go in there in a while.”
“We will?” Rob asked.
“Why not? We came to party, didn’t we?”
Twelve hours later, on Monday morning, Senator Joe Bulloch received a phone call in his Georgetown townhouse. Standing by a small desk in their second-story bedroom, his wife put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, “It’s Bradley Fuller from the White House. Sounds like he’s on a cell phone in his car.”
Senator Bulloch slipped on his white shirt and walked from the closet. Taking the phone, he said, “Hello, Bradley. How are you on this beautiful morning?”
“I’m fine, Senator. Sorry to call so early, but I wanted to catch you.”
“That’s fine. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to get back to you on your proposal for Moscow. We discussed it at Camp David over the weekend, and we’re inclined to accept. But we need to know pretty quickly exactly what Knox is prepared to say and do to endorse the Media and Entertainment Reform Bill.”
Bulloch nodded. “Of course. Of course. Good. I’ll call and let Trevor know. Is there someone they can call in your office?”
“Yes. JoAnne Brooks. If we can get comfortable with the draft of the written communiqué, I’d like to meet with a senior USNet person myself—probably later this week, given the short time. And then, if we’re on the same page, we’ll go public, after confirming with President Temirov, of course.”
“Yes, of course. Well, I’ll suggest to Trevor that one of his senior people contact Ms. Brooks, and then hopefully they can work out the right language and schedule a meeting with you right away.”
“That’ll be good, Senator.”
“Fine. Good. Thanks for arranging it.”
“It’s not done yet, but we certainly appreciate your help. We won’t forget.”
“Just trying to help, Bradley. Just trying to help.”
Within four minutes Trevor Knox was reading a word-by-word transcript of their conversation on the monitor at his desk. He smiled.
At ten that morning the real estate group assembled in the large conference room on the thirty-third floor. Bagels, doughnuts and coffee were on the credenza.
David began. “I’m sure you’ll all be interested to know that I’m talking with a few candidates to add to our group. Nothing definite yet. For now, let’s do the usual review of our projects. Todd, you want to start?”
“Sure. Perhaps of most immediate interest, David and I met on Friday with the lawyers representing Capital Tower. Since Bill Porter has been missing for six weeks, they’re finally ready to consider another offer. We told them that since we were the next highest bid, they ought to work with us, and we offered to match Porter’s price. We think they appreciated our willingness to help them make up for lost time, and hopefully we’ll hear this week.”
Phelps paused in case there were any questions, then continued. “On Brookglen, the project is well under construction and appears to be on schedule. In Kansas City, the same guys have an interesting redevelopment deal, and Cheryl and I are trying to make the numbers work for our telecom facility.” He glanced at Cheryl, who nodded.
Sawyer’s group continued in this way for the next hour, and then their boss wrapped up the meeting. “If all goes well, I may go back to Moscow at the end of the month to help orchestrate the grand opening of our new facility there, and sometime in between I may have to visit L.A. for a few days to oversee our recent acquisitions and planned dispositions. Any other questions?
“Finally—there will be more on this later—please try to use your cell phone and email as little as possible for really sensitive information…OK? We’ve got landlines for important calls, and I’ll be looking into encryption for our emails. It may take a little longer to communicate, but it may also be more secure. Even the small chance of being read by others concerns me. So, for now, please humor me, as you always do.”
Late that morning Trevor Knox had Paul Burke in his office; Bud Purcell, who ran their XXXtra Cinema operation in Los Angeles, was on the video conference screen. It was still early on Monday in Los Angeles, and Bud looked like he needed another cup of coffee. But he had done as Knox requested and emailed a draft of their proposed corporate statement on the President’s Media and Entertainment Reform bill.
“Thanks, Bud,” Knox said. “We’re under a little pressure to get this to the White House, and I want the three of us to agree on the language.”
“No problem,” Purcell said, and sipped his coffee.
Paul Burke reread the draft he had received an hour before:
USNet has always been a champion of individual adult choice in a free society, and for that reason we applaud President Harper’s work to make choice the hallmark of the new Media and Entertainment Reform legislation.
Within the next three months we will, therefore, ensure that all of the programming on our cable networks’ Basic Packages will be G rated, and that other programs will be available only to those who choose them.
Second, we will adopt recently developed log-in software to positively ID each user on the internet and ensure that no inappropriate material is made available to a user who is under twenty-one.
Finally, we will voluntarily make certain that everyone associated with our Adult Entertainment subsidiaries in America, including actors, crews and distributors, is a minimum of twenty-one years of age, so that each may make a responsible choice.
Once all of these changes are implemented, we believe that we will be in full compliance with the new law, and we urge others in our industry to comply with these same legislative guidelines.
“Those are some pretty big changes,” Burke said. “How will they affect our business units?”
“I’m not crazy about them,” Purcell offered.
Knox nodded. “I know, but we need to move on. And it won’t be a total lay-down. We’ll change our basic cable package so that it’s pretty limited. Subscribers will call us for more variety, and that’s when we’ll encourage them to OK the other program ratings. And
we’ll try this new internet log-in software. If it doesn’t work, no one will be able to blame us for ditching it a few months later. But, all in all, let’s try to comply, at least to the letter of the law. Don’t forget, we own most of the U.S. adult entertainment industry now, and we want to be on reasonably good terms with the government. This seems like a highly visible way to do it.”
“You’re right about that,” Burke agreed. “President Harper ought to love hearing you speak these words about her legislation.”
“Agreed,” Purcell added. “So long as we can keep our options open.”
“We will, we will,” Knox assured them. “But for now, let’s comply.”
“You’re the boss,” Purcell said.
Burke turned to Knox. “I’m OK with the language if that’s our plan.”
“Good. Paul, please contact Ms. Brooks in Bradley Fuller’s office in the White House at this number, and send her our draft. Hopefully they’ll like it, and we can begin making plans in earnest to have both Presidents open our new office in Moscow. “
That evening Kristen was in the living room of her apartment, watching a baseball game on television, when her home phone rang. It was David.
“David. How are you? And what’s that noise?” She picked up the remote and turned down the volume on the game.
“Oh, sorry. Just people talking. I’m calling from a pay phone in a restaurant. How are you?”
“Fine. Glad to be back from my travels. A pay phone? I didn’t know there were any left. I’m interviewing tomorrow with a commercial brokerage firm, and on Thursday I’m flying to Ohio to meet with a pension fund that wants to open an office here to invest in real estate.”
“Sounds good. I hope one of them works out.”
“Me, too. I can’t wait to find out what other interests I quit USNet to pursue.”
“OK, OK. At least you’re being paid well while you look. And I’ll give you a good reference.”
Enemy In the Room Page 27
