Asbaran Solutions (The Revelations Cycle Book 2)

by Chris Kennedy

  “Yes sir, that is true; Asbaran Solutions is one of the five biggest companies on Earth. As many other large companies have found in the past, though, size does not equal financial security or stability. Businesses depend on money coming in to cover the bills they generate. In the case of Asbaran, we have not successfully completed a contract in over a year; therefore, we haven’t been paid. During that time, we have lost twelve of our newest KW12 Huma dropships, as well as twelve APCs and 150 CASPers. Not to mention almost 200 troops, drivers and pilots. All of those have a substantial cost.”

  “Well, no fuck they do. People, experienced people, are worth way more than gear; grandfather taught me that as a kid.”

  “Indeed. Regardless of their individual price tags, all of them were lost without completing the mission. We lost substantial investments and received no income. Between that and our normal operating costs, we are bankrupt. We can start selling off assets, which will bring in a little revenue, but our best assets were lost with your father and siblings. We can put off some of our bills, but before long we will have a situation much like the Cartwrights did last year.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Me? There’s nothing I can do about it. We bent the rules to get your sister into the company as CEO, but there’s no further bending that can be done. There is no one left in the bloodline to run the company. If you don’t do it, the company will fold.”

  “It’s commendable of you not to mention that my monthly stipend will cease if that happens.”

  The man gave a wan smile. “I thought I would appeal to your sense of family first, but yes, that will indeed happen. In fact, it already has happened; the payment you received last month was your last. All discretionary spending has been stopped. Your sister kept your stipend in the budget as long as she could…”

  “But now she’s gone, and it’s been stopped.”

  “No sir, now she’s gone, and there’s nothing left to pay you with.”

  “Then I guess I better get down to Houston and get this figured out.”

  “Yes sir; that would be helpful.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Six

  Asbaran Solutions, Houston, Texas, USA

  “Wow,” Steve said, looking up at the massive glass-steel mega-building. It covered two complete city blocks in both directions and rose 57 stories into the muggy Houston sky. “So this is your new office?”

  “Yeah, my office is at the top of this monstrosity,” Nigel said. “We own it all, although we rent out a number of the floors to some of our subsidiaries and some of the smaller merc firms we have relationships with.”

  “Impressive.”

  “What’s really impressive is what’s underneath. There are a number of weapons laboratories, test beds, ranges, and the like in the basements and sub-basements. We try to keep high explosives out of the building in case something goes wrong, but sometimes that’s not possible. And some of the batteries we use are extremely dangerous in their own right.”

  “And it doesn’t worry you to be sitting on top of all that?”

  “No more than it did any of the three generations of Shirazis before me.”

  “Just three?”

  “Yeah, my great-grandfather built this structure after our last building blew up. 57 was his favorite number.”

  “So, you’re taking me into in a building that could blow up at any moment?”

  “Could? Yeah, but the odds are really, really low. Like I said, it hasn’t blown up in 65 years or so; we’ve got a great safety record.”

  “But why would you want to have all that stuff in the building?”

  “Security, mostly. We control everyone and everything that comes and goes, and we have implemented a large number of security procedures to make sure people don’t get into spaces they aren’t cleared for. There are two security departments, and both of them have procedures the other doesn’t know about to keep outsiders from getting a mole into our building and learning our secrets.” He shrugged. “Nothing’s perfect, but my grandfather was pretty anal-retentive about security and did everything he could to protect the building. Besides, it’s in the middle of the city and assaulting it would provoke a reaction among a number of other merc outfits; anyone trying to break in would be faced with some of the best mercs in the galaxy. Once again, nothing’s impregnable, but it’s as good as we can make it.”

  “Thanks for coming down to get me.”

  “Don’t worry about it; I had to come and get you or you’d have spent all morning and most of the afternoon trying to work your way through security. Remember those security procedures I mentioned? Besides, I need to thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m in over my head here, and I need someone who understands finance.”

  “Finance? I don’t know finance. I know personal financial planning, like where to put your money on the galactic stock market, and things like that. I don’t know anything about corporate finance, nor do I want to.”

  “You can at least do math, and that’s the one area I’ve always struggled with. I don’t want to say any more down here. Let’s go up to my office where we can talk.”

  They started walking toward the building, but Steve stopped and pointed at the middle floors of the building. “Is that the Asbaran logo? What is that, a griffin?”

  “Yeah, that’s our logo, but it’s not a griffin. It’s a huma bird from Persian mythology. It’s kind of like a phoenix, in that it’s supposed to rise from its ashes. The way things are going, we may need its spirit guidance…”

  “Okay, so what’s going on?” Steve asked 90 minutes later after they made it through security and up to Nigel’s office.

  “Remember what happened to Cartwright’s Cavaliers last year?”

  “Yeah, they went bankrupt, didn’t they? It was all over the Tri-V news shows.”

  “Correct. It’s about to happen again, only this time it’s going to happen to us.”

  “What? Is that how they talked you into coming down here?”

  “Pretty much. Here’s the story in brief. We took a contract that went bad. My father tried to salvage it but got killed. So my brother tried to salvage it, but he got killed too. So my sister tried to salvage it, but she got taken prisoner, and the mercs that have her want to ransom her back to us. Personally, I think they’re scared about what would happen if they just killed her, but now we’re in a real bind.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Remember all those failed rescue missions? They used up assets, and none of them actually completed the mission which would have resulted in payment. They’re still tallying all the bills, but we are about 11 billion credits in debt at this point.”

  “Holy shit! That’s like the gross domestic product of…”

  “Most of the planet,” Nigel finished. “Yeah, we’re pretty screwed.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get Parisa back and then let her decide what to sell off. Even after a week here, I still don’t have much of a clue how our finances work or any idea how to begin trying to save the company. I’m hoping you can figure out some of that for me while I concentrate on getting my sister back.”

  “So let me get this straight…you want me—someone with no idea how this company works—to figure out what assets you can sell so you can ransom your sister?”

  “Fuck that. I’m going to take her back; I just need you to buy me some time. I want you to make the company’s finances work long enough for me to put together a rescue mission.”

  Steve’s brows knit. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re going to what?”

  “I’m going to get my sister back from the motherfuckers who’ve taken her.”

  “And you’re going to do that…how?”

  “I’m going to put together what I can from our remaining equipment and personnel and go get her. We don’t have the funds to pay her ransom, and I can’t let them kill her.”

  Steve shook his head. �
�Now, admittedly, I’m not a merc,” he said, “but I don’t see how that has one chance in hell of working.”

  “I want my sister back,” Nigel said, his shoulders set in defiance; “she was the only one of my whole family who was ever nice to me.”

  “That’s fine,” Steve replied; “I’m not suggesting you don’t do something to get her back. What I do take issue with is that it sounds like you’re going to do the same thing your sister did, and your brother and father before her. It didn’t work for any of them; why do you think you’ll be successful when they weren’t?”

  “Are you saying I’m not a good leader?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea what kind of leader you are. I’ve never seen you lead a classroom discussion, much less an airborne assault. I’m worried about how you’ll do, sure, but it’s more than that. What makes you think you can succeed with second-tier equipment and troops, where no one else in your family could with the best stuff money can buy?”

  “Because I have to do it!” Nigel exclaimed. “Don’t you get that?”

  “Yes, I do.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “Have you ever heard of Albert Einstein?”

  “Of course I have,” Nigel replied. “I got kicked out of school for fighting, not for my grades.”

  “Remember, I’ve seen your grades,” Steve said. “Yes, you got kicked out for assault, but you were within a couple of weeks of failing out when it happened.”

  “Okay, that’s true, but I was doing poorly because I was partying too much, not because I was dumb.”

  “You know, you can be a real asshole when you don’t get your way,” Steve said, exasperated.

  “Yeah, it’s one of my more redeeming qualities.” Nigel smiled, easing the tension. “Okay, so what are you trying to tell me?”

  “Do you know Einstein’s definition of insanity?”

  “Asking your friends for money?”

  “No, legend has it that he said insanity was doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results.”

  “Okay, how is that applicable here?”

  “Well, to the neutral observer, it looks like you’re going to do the same thing the rest of your family did, but that didn’t work for any of them, even though they had more training and better equipment. I’m hoping I can dissuade you from throwing your life away like they did.”

  “My sister isn’t dead.”

  “No, but she will be—and so will you—if you try the same shit.”

  “Then I guess I will have to try something different.”

  “Good. In that case, I’ll try to figure out how to keep the company solvent long enough for you to rescue your sister.”

  “You’re a good friend, Steve.”

  “Yeah, and you’re a dick. So show me where the company’s books are and find me someone who can explain them to me in English.”

  “Remember that lawyer who showed up at my house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “His name is Jonathan Spivey. He’ll be your guide.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seven

  Asbaran Solutions, Houston, Texas, USA

  “Okay, I’ve made some calls and juggled some accounts,” Steve said. “Mr. Spivey and I agree that we can probably keep the company going for about one more month, but then it’s going to collapse like a house of cards, and when it goes, it’s going to go fast. It’ll probably fold faster than Cartwright’s Cavaliers did.”

  “Thanks; no pressure there.”

  “Pressure? If you wanted pressure, I could talk about the thousands of people who work for the company who are about to be out of a job. They’re all counting on you.”

  “Thanks, but I really wanted some reassurance, not more people counting on me.”

  “Well, I hate to be the voice of reason, but you’re about to do something I think is incredibly stupid. Not only are you going to get yourself killed, but everyone else who goes along with you. Those people all have families. And everything that gets destroyed with you has a price tag that will come out of the company’s assets when it goes into bankruptcy, which it will when you fail, leaving even less for the people who trusted this company to provide for them.”

  “Thanks, a third time.”

  “Have I convinced you to give up this stupid idea yet?”

  “No, if anything, you’ve confirmed it’s the right thing to do.”

  “And how the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

  “It’s the only way the company can win.”

  “You’re willing to bet everything this company stands for, and everything you own, even your life, on one throw of the dice?”

  “I am…or I will be; I’m still shy a number of troops with combat experience, especially at the leadership level, and I’m going to have to use senior enlisted leaders in the company commander and executive officer slots; there just aren’t any officers available.” Nigel shrugged. “It’s a bastardized setup, but it’s all I can do at the moment. Even good, experienced senior enlisted are in extremely short supply.” Nigel looked at his watch. “I am, however, hoping to fill the company commander position shortly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had someone who called from the Golden Horde who said he wanted to go with me on my ‘upcoming trip.’ That tells me two things.”

  “Which are?”

  “The first is he may be the experienced leader I need.”

  “And the second?”

  “Our operations security sucks, which is probably why the previous missions failed. We’ll have to do better than they did, or we’ll come to the same end.”

  “Mister Shirazi?” Nigel’s secretary asked from the door. “There is a Mr. Thomas Mason from the Golden Horde here to speak with you.”

  “Please send him in.”

  Mason walked through the doorway, filling it with his bulk. Although the trend was smaller troopers that better fit the current model of CASPer, Mason was huge; he stood at least a couple inches over six feet tall and probably weighed the better part of 250 pounds, all of it muscle, with dark hair and dark eyes.

  “I heard you’re putting together a mission to recover your sister,” the man said. “I want to lead it.”

  “I’ve seen your resume,” Nigel said. “You look like just the person I need as my second-in-command. You’re hired.”

  “Second? I heard you wanted to lead the mission, but I thought the person who told me that was just bullshitting me. Please tell me that you aren’t really planning on leading it.”

  “I’m not sure where you heard it, but you heard correctly. I am leading the mission to recover my sister. I am unaware what concern it is of yours, though. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to sign on.”

  “My concern is that you have no combat experience; everyone that goes with you is going to be killed, and the mission is going to fail.”

  “Once again, though, I still don’t see what concern it is of yours.”

  “Let’s face it, you know shit about being a merc, much less leading a group of them, and some of your troops are friends of mine. I’d like them not to get killed unnecessarily.” He strode over to the shelves along one wall and pointed to a stuffed teddy bear that sat between a Mark 15 hypervelocity pistol and a Fargahr ceremonial sword. “Do you see this? Tell me what you know about Rule One.”

  “Rule One?”

  “Yeah, Rule One. What do you know about Rule One?”

  “I didn’t know there were a whole lot of rules about being a merc.”

  “I’m not talking about being a merc, I’m talking about surviving as a merc. Rule One is simple. It states, ‘Danger lurks within cute and cuddly things.’ That teddy bear was brought home by your grandfather…after he disconnected the booby trap the Ssselipsssiss had left. The bear was wired to trigger a nuclear weapon; if he’d picked up the cute and cuddly teddy bear, he would have initiated a 42-megaton explosion. If you don’t even know about Rule One, you’re a liability who’s going to get someo
ne killed. Yourself, definitely, but I don’t give a shit about that. What I do care about is that when you do something stupid, which you will, you’re going to either get me or someone else I like killed. I take enough chances just being a merc; bringing you along is nothing more than a death wish, and I don’t have one of those. Let’s face it, you’re just not good enough to lead this.”

  “What did you just say?”

  “I said you’re not good enough. Maybe with training, someday, but you’re pretty old to be a newbie. You may never be good enough.”

  “That’s it,” Nigel screamed. “I’m going.”

  “Obviously, you must be deaf as well as stupid,” Mason said in a level tone. “Didn’t you just hear what I said? I’m not bringing you along. If you’re going, you’re going to have to find someone else to lead this abortion of a plan. If I were to bring you along, I might as well go out behind the hangar and blow my brains out. It would at least save the company the cost of transporting me there.”

  “I’m. Going.”

  “Well, then you’re going to have to find someone else to lead it, and as far as I can see, you’re flat out of options. I’ve talked with some of your folks. I’m the only platoon leader you’ve got, much less company commander.”

  “Steve, can you write a note that we need to update our nondisclosure training? Obviously, some of our folks need refreshers on keeping their mouths shut.”

  “So you’ll let me lead it?” Mason asked.

  “No. I’m leading it. Get out.”

  “What?”

  “I said, ‘Get out.’” Nigel’s voice was stronger now, more sure of himself. “I’m the heir to one of the Four Horsemen. This is my company, and I say who’s going to go on this or any other mission. Now get the hell out of my office before I shoot you myself.”

  “And how the fuck are you going to do that?”

  Nigel stood up, revealing the laser pistol in his right hand. “I may not have known Rule One, but my grandfather taught me Rule Two when I was here one day. I was hiding under his desk and asked what the thing was in the leather holster. He told me it was Rule Two. Now get the hell out.”