Point of Control

by L. J. Sellers

  He already hated her. But she wasn’t smart enough to stop him. He’d been planning his takeover of the cell phone market for years. During an obligatory trip to China to visit his mother’s family, he’d set up a meeting with a rare earth metal analyst, hoping to cut out the middleman and save money on raw materials. After too many baijius, the man had slipped and hinted at the government’s plan to cut back on exports. A promise of cash had lubricated the analyst further, and he’d confirmed that it might even be a total shutdown. That moment had changed everything. Wild, ambitious thoughts had starting bouncing around in his brain, and within weeks, he’d starting looking at mining operations.

  “Don’t worry,” Shawn said. “I’ll handle the agent.”

  “No more bodies turning up! And get a replacement for Bowman ASAP. I recommend Dana Thorpe. Her synthetic is probably as advanced as Bowman’s, and she’s in Seattle, not far from the lab.” Max shifted gears. “My partners have changed their minds about encryption. They think it’s the key to getting consumers to shift to a new brand. So now they want the best of the best. They’ve heard there’s an unhackable version out there, but only a few coders know the key. Figure out who they are and bring one on board.”

  “That wasn’t in our agreement.” He didn’t have time to develop a whole new software standard, and that wasn’t the kind of phone he was manufacturing. Feeling a familiar tightening at his temples, he grabbed his bottle of dextro and swallowed one. He’d been taking too much of it lately, but the ADHD medicine kept him focused.

  Shawn cut off whatever Max was saying. “I have it handled. You know I have an encryption expert in-house, and she’s within days of finalizing an algorithm that’ll deliver exactly what you’re after.” Maybe. It was true that Jia, his wife, had been working on the problem for months, but so far her hacker-testers kept breaking through everything she tried. But telling people what they wanted to hear was often more advantageous than the truth. At least in the moment. He’d learned that at an early age from parents who expected perfection.

  “Having your wife working on it isn’t good enough. We want the hacker-proof software that’s already out there, developed by the best in the business. Make it happen. We’ve invested too much in this project to fail at a key marketing objective.” Max was gone.

  Shawn clenched his teeth, caught himself doing it, and sat back in his $2,000 office chair. He didn’t care about encryption, and neither had Max in their first conversation. What had changed? The big competitors, Apple and Samsung, were already embedding software that kept federal law enforcement from easily accessing phone data in their devices. Apparently, his financiers had decided that ZoGo cell phones needed to offer that level of security too, so consumers would buy them as replacements now that the name brands had become insanely expensive and nearly impossible to find. He disagreed. Once they dominated the market, consumers would buy whatever was available. That day was rapidly approaching.

  Because he’d known the shortage was coming, Shawn had studied rare earth mining and researched every facility—operating or abandoned—that had the right potential. A West Coast location and the presence of bastnäsite were the two primary indicators. He’d found the perfect mine in central Washington. Because the facility had been shut down for years, he’d bought it relatively cheap, hoping to soon have the money to invest in state-of-the-art extraction technology. Still, the payments had been hefty and stressful while he waited to see if the analyst had been right. After six months, China had cut off rare earth exports and all hell had broken loose. Two weeks later, Max had approached him, wanting to invest in ZoGo and to help it gain control of the market.

  When his private cell phone had rung, he hadn’t recognized the number and had almost rejected the call. But the southern area code intrigued him, and he finally picked up. “Shawn Crusher speaking.”

  “This is Max. I’m an investor with an interest in your cell phone company. Can you meet me in an hour?”

  Flustered and curious, Shawn asked the obvious. “Max who? What equity group are you with?”

  “We’re private venture capitalists. We’ve been watching the metal shortage and the production slowdown, and we think it’s going to get ugly very quickly. A lot of companies won’t survive. Our pockets are exceptionally deep, and we’d like to invest in the winner.”

  A shimmer of excitement rolled up Shawn’s back. He’d been planning for this paradigm shift for years. He’d laid the groundwork, leveraged himself to his eyeballs to find and gain control of a mine, only to end up staring at a brick wall. He didn’t have the capital to hire an extraction specialist and provide him with the necessary equipment. And now, a call out of the blue, offering the cash he needed? If it sounded too good to be true, it probably was. But he’d be a fool not to find out. “Sure. I’ll meet with you. It sounds like we have interests in common.”

  “Eleven o’clock. In the middle of the food court in the SunView Mall.”

  “What do you look like?”

  “I prefer to remain anonymous, so I’ll find you.” The man hung up.

  Shawn paced the office, trying to figure out who the investors were, then decided he didn’t care. They could be demons from hell as long as they provided the money to buy extraction equipment and recruit a top-notch specialist. He had an Australian in mind. He picked up his keys and left his office. Should he call Jia about the development? No, he’d wait and see how things went at the meeting.

  A little later, at the food court, two teenagers vacated a table just as he arrived, and Shawn sat down, too keyed up to care about the mess they’d left. He was seven minutes early and waiting made him jumpy. He should have bought something to drink so he didn’t look out of place sitting there. He checked his watch ten times, counting each nervous glance. At two minutes after the hour, a voice behind him said, “I’m here, but don’t turn around.”

  The clandestine nature of the meeting sent Shawn’s pulse up a notch. “I’ve never had a conversation like this before.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll do most of the talking.”

  From behind, Max set a small duffle bag on the chair next to Shawn. “There’s a hundred thousand in cash in the bag for seed money. We’re prepared to invest considerably more through bank transfers. But you have to work within our timeline and agree to the software standards we impose.”

  The big money made his throat dry, and he itched to open the bag. “What standards?”

  “Mostly quality and security, but we’ll talk about that later.”

  Shawn didn’t care much about security. He manufactured inexpensive, untraceable phones that people bought with cash and easily disposed of. But he wanted to be cooperative. “My wife is a coder with a specialty in encryption. I’ll get her working on it.”

  “That’s not the big issue. Our main concern is timing. We want to capture the market while it’s in turmoil and before the government steps in.”

  He’d been thinking the same thing. But he had to ask. “Why me?”

  “We’re impressed with your foresight and ability to adapt. We think you’ve got a solid business model for the shortage-driven future.” Max made a soft chuckling sound. “And you bought the mine we had our eye on. Whoever controls the resources controls the market.”

  Shawn was pleased with himself too, but how did Max know he’d purchased Palisades? He’d been careful to shield his ownership in case monopoly issues were ever raised. “How do you know I bought the mine?”

  “We had our eye on it too, but you beat us to it. Now we need you to acquire the extraction equipment and get up to full production immediately. Plus bring in a rare earth extraction expert.” Max’s voice tightened. “Even that won’t be enough. Dysprosium is so rare and so hard to process that we need to find a replacement. Without it, our competitors won’t be able to produce microphones or speakers, and they’ll go out of business. Meanwhile, we’ll introduce a new generatio
n of devices made with our own metals or synthetics.”

  Max’s plan was similar to what he’d envisioned. Only more complex. Shawn hadn’t thought about replacement materials. But he did notice the use of “our” when Max mentioned the synthetic. “How much stake do you want in my company?”

  “Fifty-one percent.”

  Controlling interest. Could he live with that?

  “You’ll make millions and millions in the first year,” Max assured him. “We have some promotional ideas that will exploit the shortage and increase our market share very quickly, and you’re the right person to employ them. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” Max paused. “We think you know that already.”

  Shawn knew he would take the deal, but elements of it seemed daunting. “What about the dysprosium replacement material? I don’t know the industry or who to recruit.”

  “This will be the most challenging aspect. I can give you the names of two metallurgists who are doing cutting-edge research, and you need to get one of them on board quickly, before another company recruits them. But we don’t need them long term, we won’t give them credit for their breakthroughs, and they’ll need to sign a secrecy agreement with tough enforcement clauses. All we can offer is a lucrative bonus. That will make recruitment very difficult.”

  Why were those hurdles necessary? Max represented some peculiar investors. “What if I can’t recruit anyone?”

  “Be creative. Be ruthless. We don’t care how you do it as long as we’re kept anonymous.”

  What was Max suggesting? “Do you mean bribe them with a duffle bag of cash?” Another idea came to him. “Or do you mean blackmail?”

  “That’s too messy and not foolproof. If you can’t recruit one of the best, you may just have to grab one and use forced labor.” Max paused. “With a cash payment when they produce, of course.”

  Holy shit! This guy was talking about kidnapping scientists. “That sounds extreme and dangerous.”

  “No one has to get hurt. Just inconvenienced a little, then extremely well paid after a month or so when you release them.”

  No wonder Max wanted to keep his identity secret.

  “Keep in mind,” Max said, “you’ll make more money than you can ever spend. And you’ll be Silicon Valley’s go-to guy, the one CEO who not only survived the meltdown, but profited.”

  Shawn wanted that more than anything. Could he do this? More important, what if he said no? The investors would take their money to a competitor, and someone else would make the millions and rise to the top. By the time he could afford the extraction technology for the mine, another company would be making phones with synthetic metals. Freaked out and excited at the same time, he could barely sit still.

  “Can you handle it?” Max asked.

  This was the litmus test. If he wanted the payoff, he had to go all in. But he would do everything he could to recruit experts first. Shawn swallowed hard. “I may need help with the logistics.”

  “I’ll send a guy to help with the dirty work. He’s also a pilot with his own plane, which will come in handy. And you can trust him.”

  He had so many questions! “Where will the scientists work? I don’t have a lab for materials research.”

  “Find a facility and we’ll fund the equipment. We can have the money in an account for you within twenty-four hours.”

  It was happening so fast, it was surreal. He needed to test Max’s resources—and generosity. “I’ll need five hundred thousand for myself up front, just as a bonus.”

  A pause. “I’ll give you half in cash in a few days, delivered to you. And the other half will go into your account after you’ve brought in an extraction specialist and geared up the mine. We expect timely results.”

  Shawn heard a threat in his tone. What would they do if he failed? He wouldn’t fail. Even more than the millions, he wanted control of the market. He wanted to be the King of Silicon Valley and show the bastard who fired him years ago what a colossal mistake it had been. “I’m ready to sign.”

  “There won’t be a contract. You keep your end of the deal, and we’ll keep the money flowing. But I want to reiterate that timing is critical.”

  “Why?” He thought he knew, but he wanted to hear the investor’s reason.

  “The electronics industry is collapsing, and consumers are getting unhappy very quickly. We’ve heard rumors that the White House is talking about nationalizing mines that have rare earth capabilities. We need to make our money before that happens.”

  The urgency made even more sense now. This was a unique window of opportunity, and he wouldn’t let it pass by—or screw it up. If it came to taking the scientists by force, he would need help. Harlan, his best friend and special-ops employee, would do almost anything for him. And Max had mentioned sending a pilot capable of providing muscle, if need be. The two of them could handle that part. But Shawn could never tell his wife. Jia was ambitious and ruthless, and he loved her for it, but kidnapping would freak her out.

  “Do we have a deal?”

  He snapped back to attention. “Yes. I’ll get started today.”

  He felt movement behind him and realized Max was leaving. Shawn turned and caught sight of his back, a medium-build man in a dark overcoat and baseball cap. Who the hell was he? Then it hit him. One of the major players, probably Samsung, wanted to capture the low-end phone market, but only as a silent investor so they didn’t ruin their brand. He almost laughed. If the material shortage continued, his burner phones would become the high-end market. The iPhones that did everything would cease to be made—at least for the masses—because the cost would be too prohibitive. Consumers were already switching, and his market share had increased nearly 20 percent since China had choked off the supply.

  Curious to see if he could recognize him, he hurried after Max, but the secretive man had disappeared in the crowd.

  CHAPTER 8

  He’d had other conversations with Max, but that had been their only in-person meeting. Now he had to focus on the present and his new problem. Shawn sat down at his Brazilian-hardwood desk, pressed the flashing button on his headset, and said, “Call Jia.” FaceTime would open automatically, so they could see each other.

  While he waited, he stared out the window of his second-floor corner office. Thousands of people were out there in the Valley, working hard in their labs and offices, pushing for the next technology breakthrough, hoping to be the guy with the startup that gets an IPO and is suddenly worth millions. He was about to be that guy, only without the IPO. His company would stay private, and he wouldn’t answer to anyone. Except his financial backers. But eventually he’d buy them out. Analysts had been skeptical when he started manufacturing economy cell phones—entering a market dominated by giants. But he’d quickly proved them wrong and grown his company into one that tech experts wanted to join. He’d anticipated the earth-metal shortage too, and now he was going to cash in. He’d come a long way for a college dropout, and his parents would finally be proud of him.

  His wife finally answered his call, breathing hard. Even while exercising she was pretty—delicate features with an upturned nose and downturned eyes. The perfect blend of Caucasian and Chinese, just like himself. “Make it fast, please,” she said, not smiling. “I’m working out.”

  He’d known that, of course, even though only her face showed on his phone screen. She was using the stair climber in her office at the other end of the building. “Any update on the EC software?” he asked.

  “No.” She paused her workout to give him an exasperated sigh. “I’ll let you know the minute I do.”

  He wanted to warn her not to talk to the FBI agent when she came around, but Jia didn’t know about the kidnapped scientists and he needed it to stay that way. The only thing he could do was get her out of town before the agent questioned her. “I need a favor from you, sweetheart.”

  She hesitated, her d
ark eyes wary. Finally, she nodded. Her Chinese upbringing required her to be polite and hear him out. “What is it?”

  “Will you go stay at the Washington mine to keep an eye on things? I think the manager is slacking, and you’re the only person, besides me, who can keep people in line.”

  Her first tiny smile. “I’ve known you a long time, Shawn. You’re flattering me to get what you want. Tell me what’s really going on.”

  He gave her his most charming smile. “We really do have a problem. The production manager is behind schedule, and one of us needs to be there to push him hard. I can’t go right now, but we’ll take turns.” He would miss her, but it was a sacrifice he had to make. She was one of the few people he knew who was smart and edgy enough for him to enjoy talking to. But they could do that through Skype. Their relationship had never been about sex, or even love, in the beginning. Their families had introduced them, and they shared a passion for technology. People married for worse reasons. But they’d come to love each other, in their own way.

  “It’s too cold up there. And I thought you wanted me to focus on the encryption algorithm. Send Harlan.”

  “I need him here.” Shawn smiled again, a practiced skill. “You never go outside, so what do you care about the cold? And you only need to stop in at the mine for a few minutes each day, just so they know we’re watching.” He shifted his voice to assertive mode. “Just pack and go today. I’ll call ahead and have someone make sure the place is warm and ready.” He’d bought a piece of property with a small house a few miles from the mine just for the convenience.

  Jia glared at him. “I’ll stay a week. That’s it.”

  “Thank you.”

  They clicked off, and Shawn felt himself relax a little. But not much. He could never stop thinking, moving, and planning. His parents, his mother especially, had pushed him as a child—to study, to play an instrument, to join the chess club, to get an after-school job. Sitting still hadn’t been an option, and he’d never learned how. But the only activity he’d really loved had been music. His mother had wanted him to play the piano or cello, a “dignified” instrument. But in high school, he’d taken up the guitar and played in an alternative rock band. Like other young musicians, he’d dreamed of record labels and sold-out concerts. And he’d had the talent. In college, while taking IT classes as a backup plan, he entered the American Idol contest and made it to the semifinals. His parents had been frustrated with his pursuit, calling it a waste of time, but he’d hoped they were secretly proud too.