by R. B. Conroy
“I would like to thank all of you for coming today. I realize Chicago traffic can be overwhelming, especially when you’re not used to it,” Ramsey said.
The gall of this man; this was a bank meeting called by Louie and this guy invites himself at the last minute and then takes charge of the meeting. Alex was fuming.
Ramsey went on, “I particularly appreciate Alex and my good friend, Barnes, driving all the way from Indianapolis to be here with us.”
Barnes threw an over-exuberant smile at the powerful man. Alex nodded lazily.
“I know there are some banking issues that you gentlemen need to discuss, but you will have to do it later. We plan to fly back to Washington at 11:30 and therefore, time is of the essence. So, I will get right to the point. First of all, the President wanted me to tell you personally just how appreciative he is of the support given him by all of you here at Midwest Bank during the last election. He looks forward to continuing this close relationship in the years leading up to his reelection campaign. He sends his warmest regards.”
All of you? Alex thought.
“Your chairman, Barnes O’Brien, and the President have developed a particularly close personal relationship over the past several months. He looks forward to the possibility of more involvement by Barnes in his administration.”
Barnes smiled smugly.
Ramsey turned to his right, “Okay, Cybil.”
His assistant and the other aide immediately began packing up all the recording equipment and stuffing legal pens and pads into a large briefcase that suddenly appeared from under the table. Cybil then went around the table, smiling warmly and collecting all the pads and pencils and stuffing them in the briefcase. She smiled at Ava and pointed at the door. With Louie’s nod of approval, Ava rose and started for the back of the room. Then, along with the security guards, Cybil and her colleagues also headed for the door. When she passed by Alex, she leaned over and whispered, “Please put your briefcase on the floor, Mr. Crane.” At the same moment, he received a reinforcing stare from Ramsey. Alex reluctantly set the case on the floor next to his chair. The door shut behind him.
“What’s this all about?” a befuddled Louie Campano asked.
“Oh…uh sorry Mr. Campano. I didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s just that I have some very personal concerns from the President to discuss with all of you. It would not be appropriate for the staff to hear,” Ramsey replied.
Louie looked quizzically at the powerful man.
Alex unexpectedly jumped into the conversation, “Let me explain, Louie. With the staff being part of the meeting, if only briefly, Mr. Ramsey can now charge this expensive trip from Washington to Chicago to the taxpayers. If it were totally off the record, someone else would have to pony-up for the trip.”
Ramsey chuckled nervously, “You’re a smart man, Alex. You may want to come to work for us someday.”
Not amused, Alex stared at Ramsey as the smile drained from his face. The tension was mounting in the room.
Ramsey continued, “It appears Mr. Crane is in no mood for small talk so let’s get right to the point, shall we? My economic advisors and I have just spent a great deal of time reviewing the financial statements for Midwest for the past two quarters. And to make a long story short, even after receiving twenty-five billion dollars of bailout money, Midwest is still experiencing substantial losses. Income is down and the bank’s net worth is shrinking as we speak. I think we all know that in the past election, the middle of the country was the tipping point for our victory. Without Ohio, Indiana, and Missouri coming into the fold, we would not have carried the election. Midwest Consolidated is the largest bank in the central states, with offices in Michigan, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. The failure of a bank with this asset size would send shock waves throughout this part of the country and would certainly not bode well for the party in power.” Ramsey paused and glanced at the others. “Would my more knowledgeable banker friends like to comment on that assessment?”
Obviously uncomfortable talking about numbers, Louie turned toward Alex.
Alex spoke up quickly, blocking any attempt by Barnes to jump in and control the discussion. “If you mean, do I think that you, the President and the Federal Government could do a better job of turning that situation around than we could? The answer is a resounding no.”
Ramsey’s eyes went wide with shock and anger at Alex’s terse remark. Alex, for all practical purposes, had cut off all debate.
Barnes spun toward Alex; his face contorted in rage. “Why, you pompous ass! This bank is in a hell of a mess and you know it! If we try to pay back that money, we’ll go under!”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. A competitive man by nature, his frustrations were growing. “We can work out of this situation without the bailout money. Our commercial paper is doing fine. Our bond managers tell me the worst is over in the foreclosure area and the secondary market should be stabilizing in the near future. Our deposits are good, and even though our net worth is down, it is still above industry averages. It has been a difficult and challenging task to work out of the subprime crisis, but we are now on our way to doing just that.” Alex paused and glanced at Barnes. “Maybe our chairman would like to explain to Mr. Ramsey just how we got into this mess in the first place.”
His head tilted back, the arrogant Barnes stared menacingly at Alex.
Alex leaned forward in his seat. “Okay, Barnes, then I’ll tell him why. We got in this mess because you got us involved in subprime mortgages, without my know-ledge, so you and your friend, Vito Taglioni, could get rich.”
His displeasure and outrage growing, Alex turned toward Ramsey. “And that could have never happened without help from Ben here and his cronies at the Fed. This whole thing stinks to high heaven and you all know it.”
Louie Campano sat wide-eyed, shocked by the damning allegations from his usually polite colleague.
A stunned Ramsey attempted to regain control of the meeting. “Now Crane, let’s stop with the mudsling, shall we? We have some issues that are very important to President Moretti to discuss here today.”
Emboldened by Ramsey’s comment, the street fighter in Barnes took over. He calmly removed his glasses, pulled out his handkerchief and began cleaning the lenses as he spoke. “Ben, it’s obvious that Mr. Crane does not share our concern for the future of Midwest. It is also obvious from his comments that he still intends to pay back the bailout money and put our bank in further jeopardy. But I can assure you sir, that the Board of Directors at Midwest does not share this view. I will call for a vote at the next meeting, at which time I am confident the board will reject the payback. So, Mr. Crane can make all of the scurrilous allegations he likes, but you can rest assured, Ben, that at the end of the day, Midwest will keep that money.”
Alex was incensed by the arrogance of his chairman. His legs were shaking from anger, but he kept his cool. He wanted to mention the audit at the nearby Chicago office in the worst way, but he dare not. Even though he was sure that Ramsey had gotten wind of the audit, it was too early for Alex to play his hand on the audit.
Alex spoke calmly, “I know that you have been working overtime to sway the board to your side Barnes, but I’m not so sure you have the votes. I can assure all of you here today that I will do everything in my power to insure that we pay back that money. I’m more determined than ever, and nothing said here today, will alter my resolve.”
Ramsey’s face bled white; he had been sent to Chicago to insure that Midwest would keep the bailout money and it was now apparent that he had failed. He and the President had underestimated just how tough and determined Alex Crane could be. The President would be furious with him.
He took a sip of water and spoke almost inaudibly, “Gentlemen, it appears we have a stand-off. I was very much hoping that we could work together here today to solve this very difficult problem, but it appears that this is not going to happen. It’s obvious to me that Mr. Crane is steadfast in his determination to gamble with the
future of Midwest consolidated.” He then paused for a second, cleared his throat and issued this warning. “I hope for everybody’s sake that Barnes prevails. There is no room for negotiation here. The President is determined to carry the Midwestern states in the general election and he will be gravely disappointed by Mr. Crane’s refusal to cooperate. The President doesn’t take rejection well and he will not let anything or anyone stand in his way.” The powerful man’s words sent a chill up Alex’s spine. Louie sat in stunned silence.
Ramsey turned toward Barnes and said softly, “Keep in touch.” Then he quickly exited the room, avoiding any eye contact with Alex.
There was muffled conversation for a moment outside the door and then the hall fell silent. Ben Ramsey and his contingent had left the building.
His anger subsiding, Alex felt sick inside as he watched Barnes slip on his thick glasses and stand to leave. A man of honor and integrity, Alex knew he had thrown down the gauntlet today and that the President and his Chicago thugs would now be after him with renewed vigor. Right now, he wished he were like his friend Louie—single with no wife and family. A warrior by nature, Alex had no concern for himself, only his wife and family. He knew these men would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. War had been declared today and he must prepare for it.
There was an eerie silence in the room. All the emotions that had been lying under the surface had broken loose during this impromptu meeting with the President’s Chief of Staff.
Louie finally broke the ice, “Well gentlemen, I think it would be best if we just share e-mails in regard to the few items I needed to discuss. I don’t believe any of us are in the mood to continue this meeting.” He face broke into a half smile. “Meeting adjourned.”
Barnes shook Louie’s hand and thanked him for hosting the meeting and then paused next to Alex on his way out of the room. Alex sat staring straight ahead. “Alex, I want you to know that I admire your determination on this matter, but I…”
Alex wheeled around in his chair and interrupted the chairman. “Cut the crap, Barnes. Politeness does not become you.” Alex had reached ground zero with Barnes, and the gloves were off. “In the past couple of years, with your secret meetings and back room deals, you’ve managed to turn my life into a virtual time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. I rue the day I ever brought you on the board—it was a huge mistake. And, I’m not going to compound that mistake by turning my back as you and your political hacks try and destroy everything I’ve accomplished over the past thirty years!”
Barnes grimaced and then spoke slowly. “I’ve been hoping you would come around, Alex, but it’s obvious you have no such intentions. And, these “hacks” that you just referred to, happen to be the President of the United States and his close aides. You have taken it upon yourself to lock horns with the most powerful man in the universe. And, to make matters worse, today you managed to embarrass and humiliate his Chief of Staff. Better watch your backside, Alex. Things could get ugly.” Barnes hurried out; the room was now empty except for Alex and Louie.
Alex smelled garlic as Louie fell into the chair next to him and laid his hand on Alex’s arm. “Ya got your hands full, my friend. These boys play rough.”
Alex smiled warmly, “I know. I know they do, Louie. Thanks for your concern.”
“I love my bank and I don’t like what I am seeing.” He squeezed tighter on Alex’s forearm. “I’m with you on this—I promise you that.”
“Thank you, Louie, thanks a lot.” Alex appreciated the support, but there was little his office manager in Chicago could do. But the kind gesture made him feel better, if only for an instant.
“It’s going on twelve. How about some lunch?”
“Well…uh I really should be…”
The local manager interrupted, “This place has got a mean Stromboli sandwich.”
“Okay Louie, on one condition.”
“Yes?”
“You let me buy.”
“It’s a deal, boss.”
Alex lifted his briefcase from the floor and the two men exited the room. He felt Louie’s arm slide gently over his shoulder as they made there way to the restaurant area. “You’ve been good to me, Alex. You’ve always been good to me.”
“Thanks, Louie.”
………
Alex set his fork on the table. “You’re right, Louie. That was a great sandwich and the soup was wonderful.”
“Glad ya liked it, Alex.” Louie smiled and lifted his hand slightly to acknowledge two men who were in the process of being seated at a table across the room. A chill shot up Alex’s spine; they were the same two men he had seen at The Frog Restaurant the previous weekend at the lake.
“Friends of yours, Louie?”
“Yeah, that’s Hawk Barger and his pal Jake; they’re FBI guys. Want to meet ‘em?”
“Oh no, no. I have to get going. I need to pick Nicky up at the lake and then head back to Indy.”
The waitress laid the check on the table next to Alex. He quickly scanned the check, as was his habit. Satisfied that it was accurate, he stood to leave.
“Thanks for lunch, boss. I wish you didn’t have to rush off.”
“I do too, but Nicky is waiting for me at the lake.”
Louie stood and the two men shook hands.
“Parked out back?” Alex asked.
“No, I’m in the front lot.”
“Okay, then I will be in touch.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Alex hurried to the check-out counter near the back entrance of the room. He glanced discreetly at the two FBI agents. The older one with the square jaw was smiling at him—just like he did at the lake. Alex set his briefcase on the counter, reached for his money clip and paid the check. Taking a quick glimpse over his shoulder at the agents, he hurried through the back door to the parking lot.
Chapter 19
The afternoon sun filtered through the faded blinds as the orange rubber ball bounced off the small rim and then fell harmlessly to the floor. A nearby agent jumped from his chair and clumsily chased the elusive little ball around the office, finally corralling the exasperating orb next to the copy machine.
“Watch this,” Jake Collier bragged. Faking a few dribbles, he juked left and right, and then with an awkward attempt at a hook shot, he let the little ball fly. It seemed to hang in the air forever as it floated toward the basket. The other office workers in the large room paused briefly and then roared their approval as the ball swished the net, took one bounce and fell into the hand of Hawk Barger.
The famed agent grinned and shook his head. “You looked like Jordan on that one!” he exclaimed.
All heads turned as the door to the windowed office at the far end of the room swung open.
Head agent, Wade Ellis, stepped out into the office and scowled. He seemed annoyed by the festive atmosphere in the usually business-like office. “In my office, Barger,” he groused.
A collective groan moved through the office and a red-faced Hawk quickly maneuvered his way across the room to the boss’s office and pushed the door shut. The others watched as a frowning Ellis leaned on the corner of his desk. His head moved back and forth as he barked at Hawk and then handed him a file. Barger quickly thumbed through the bulging file. Animated conversation followed with Ellis finally throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head. Then Hawk, always a bit antagonistic toward those in authority, glared at his boss and then nodded in the affirmative. A few seconds later, he exited the room.
A wide-eyed office staff watched as the enigmatic agent hurried over to his partner’s desk. Jake, still gloating from the lucky shot of a few minutes earlier, spoke up, “Well, did you finally get fired?”
“I wish. We’re on assignment. You better go home and get enough stuff for a couple of days. I’ll pick you up at sixteen hundred.”
“Where we going?”
Always deathly curious about the secret destinations of the higher-paid, big shot agents in
the office, the word processors and laptops fell silent as the nosy workers strained mightily to hear what the agents were saying.
Aware of the attention, and speaking loud enough so all could hear, a grinning Hawk replied. “We gotta tail Cindy Crawford for a couple of days at a nude beach in California. The boss thinks she’s working for Al Qaida.”
There was a chorus of boos, followed by a showering of paper-wads and other harmless missiles, as the ducking agents grabbed their briefcases and scurried from the office.
Chapter 20
Alex glanced over at the large sign to his right that read, South Shore Golf Club. The parking lot was almost full on this warm Tuesday afternoon in late August. Alex waited for a couple of oncoming cars to pass and then turned left onto Vawter Park Road.
A short time later, he turned and carefully drove up the narrow drive to his lake home. Alex could see Nicky talking to their neighbor, Millie, near the garage. She had all the bags packed and arranged them neatly on the ground next to her. Alex pulled close, hopped out of the car and approached the gabbing women.
“Hello ladies.” He gave Nicky a peck on the cheek and the friendly neighbor a quick hug. “Sorry I’m a little late. Louie and I got to talking.”
“No problem. We’re all packed and ready to go and it’s only four. We should be home by six-thirty. Jarod said he would pick up the kids around seven, so we should have plenty of time.”
Alex glanced at the side yard, “By the way, where are the kids?”
“They’re out front wading in the lake. Why don’t you load up and I’ll go get them.”
“I’ll let you guys get packed. See you next time!” Millie smiled warmly and disappeared through the large bushes that separated the two houses.
Alex stuffed two small travel bags under each arm and lifted the two larger suitcases. He hurried around the SUV, stacked them in the rear compartment and slammed the gate closed.
“Hi Grandpa!” Little Eli, arms outstretched, rushed to greet Alex. Katie, almost twelve, arrived a short time later and gave her grandpa a big hug, pinning her giggling brother against his belly. The hug broke up and the kids quickly piled into the backseat. Then Alex and Nicky got in the front and buckled up. Nicky reminded the kids to do the same. The SUV turned around and drove slowly down the drive for the trip back to Indy.
