by Jace Killan
The far wall boasted a long five-door refrigerator filled to capacity with a couple hundred different soda pop bottles shipped from all over the states.
Jared pointed. “They have over a hundred different root beers.”
“This is pretty neat,” Joaquin smiled.
Though the line was long, the café took their orders quickly. Jared got the usual cup of cheddar ale soup and the smoked turkey sandwich. Joaquin ordered the Cuban Club, with turkey, ham, pulled pork and bacon on a ciabatta bun.
“They make their bread in back,” Jared said.
After selecting a bottled soda pop, they sat at a table in the corner on chairs from a 1960 schoolhouse.
Joaquin stared at the table top, examining it. Its smooth texture conflicted with the wood’s splintered and cracked look. It had been heavily sanded and varnished.
Jared hadn’t ever paid that much attention, other than to note that they looked good in the vintage café.
“Wow,” Joaquin said. “That’s pretty cool. They probably made them from old used stucco planks. I used to run across these things on scaffolding three stories tall.”
“You worked construction?”
“Yeah. I’ve done a lot of things.”
“So how’d you end up in finance?”
Joaquin shrugged. “I knew a guy.”
“One of the silent partners Owen mentioned?”
“Yeah, that’s right. He’s bringing in three hundred million this week and plans to bring in more as the firm proves itself. He wants me to look at every deal on the table. You could say he’s a bit of a micromanager.”
“Oh, I know the type.” Jared smiled. “But the ones I’ve worked for usually did more damage than good to their business by micromanaging.”
The food arrived, disrupting the awkward silence that followed Jared’s comment.
Joaquin seemed to enjoy the Cuban Club. He finished the entire thing before Jared polished off his soup.
“You eat fast,” Jared said.
“Yeah. I guess I do.”
“So tell me about yourself Joaquin. You married?”
“No. You?”
“Yep. With five kids.” Jared took a bite of his turkey sandwich. He loved the dill in the mayonnaise.
“Five, wow. Are you a Mormon?”
“Um, no. Protestant. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve known some Mormons and they all have a lot of kids.”
“Hmm.” Jared laughed. “No. My wife’s black, though, and wanted a big family like hers. She’s one of seven.”
“Oh. Well family’s cool. My mom’s Mexican, and they usually have big families too I guess, but my mom had complications with me, so there was just two of us.”
“Was?” Jared immediately regretted the question. He had a knack for prying down, fact finding important details. Sometimes that didn’t help interpersonal relationships.
“My older brother Chorch served in the special forces. He was killed in Syria.”
“Really.” Jared shouldn’t have asked, but the answer altered his perception of the new guy considerably. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah. He was a good guy.”
“Sounds like he was a hero.”
30
Joaquin slept great the second night in his apartment. He had spent his first day of work meeting everyone in the firm. They all seemed like nice people and apart from Mayhew, oblivious to their newly formed relationship with the cartel.
Despite the circumstances of Joaquin’s current employment, he’d been given an incredible opportunity. He loved business, having developed an affinity for the trade from Ericson while in lockup. Now he had a handful of experts that could teach him and he hungered for it. He’d never imagined that he could one day be one of those guys on Wall Street making the world go round. Underneath it all, he nearly forgot about the FBI. How he wished he could escape his past and with it the FBI and the cartel. He’d love for this to be real.
Today, Joaquin had a full plate. He was supposed to create a list of all the projects on the firm’s docket and produce a concise report for Guzman by tomorrow. That meant that he’d be spending almost the entire day with Jared, familiarizing himself with the opportunities. Then Joaquin would spend all night compiling the report. Out of everyone at Northern, he liked Jared most. The guy was a good guy. Kind, respectful, funny and freaking brilliant, even if he was a little nerdish. That was a component Joaquin would have dismissed in high school, probably even made fun of, but it was something he admired now. He envied Jared who didn’t know pain and loss like Joaquin did, because of his addiction.
Joaquin showed up in his office at dawn, just as Kristin turned on lights and began arranging the lobby. He spent a minute exchanging pleasantries with her. Today she wore black rimmed glasses.
Unlike the day before, Jared showed up early and the two started their discussions in Jared’s large corner office. Joaquin sat in one of two guest chairs facing Jared’s desk, his apartment in view through the window backdrop. He wondered if Junior stared back at them. Probably. The guy never slept.
“Where would you like to start?” Jared said.
“Let’s go through every project that you are considering for investment. Their parameters and concerns. I’ll take notes and ask questions as I have them.”
“Sounds good.”
Jared positioned his monitor so Joaquin could see the screen. He opened a folder titled “Vetted” revealing three more folders. Jared opened the first, NovaBrand BioPharma and started with a PowerPoint presentation.
“Did you prepare this?” Joaquin asked.
“No, the company did. All of them have a deck, similar to this one. It’s their pitch for money, and it’s all the good stuff. So I do my own research on the market sector and their company and the company owners. I’ll show you my findings next, but this presentation gives a good overview of the company and what they are looking for.”
Joaquin nodded for Jared to continue.
“So these guys have developed a cure for Anthrax. They are in Phase II FDA trials right now and are looking for funding to take them through Phase III. BARDA, Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, is interested in their research and they have made it known that they would like to purchase the technology if it is successful.”
Most of what Jared said went over Joaquin’s head and he knew he’d spend a bit of his night researching FDA approvals.
“Can I get a copy of this?” Joaquin asked.
“Of course. It’s all on the server. I can show you how to access it.”
“That’d be great. So what are your thoughts about Nova?”
“Well, I did some vetting and they are really tight on cash. But the technology is sound. I’ve spent some time with the professor at Michigan State that created it, and the data look good. Really good. There are a number of peer review studies that’ll be out later this year and Phase II is pretty much done and the data looks fantastic. Nova just needs five million to pay the researchers in order to finalize it.”
“How much do they need to get to Phase III?”
“Well, in their budget they’re asking for seven but I think it could be double that.”
“So maybe twenty million total?”
Jared nodded. “They say they are willing to give up forty percent of the company.”
“If it’s successful, what kind of payday are we looking at?” By Jared’s smile Joaquin knew he asked a good question.
“Well, there’s a couple ways that could be structured. Of course, Anthrax isn’t like diabetes. It’s fear based. Sure maybe some terrorist could find a way to introduce it into the states, but if you ask me that’s kind of ridiculous. It’s a PR thing. The government would like a stockpile of inoculations just in case. That stockpile would probably generate a solid two hundred and fifty million in gross sales. Cost of goods, labor, shipping, manufacturing would be thirty five percent or so. Say One hundred million.”
“Seems like a l
ot of risk for forty percent of a hundred and fifty million.”
Jared smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I think, too. That’s why Owen wants to offer thirty and buy the company outright.”
“Hmm. Still seems like a lot of risk. I mean I don’t know the FDA parameters, but if they fail their phase III, they’re out, right?”
“Pretty much. But indications look good on that front.”
“How long does FDA approvals take for Phase III?”
“A couple of years. And who knows. If there’s an Anthrax threat, then they could even fast track that timeframe and we could see sales that triple that amount.”
This was fun. Joaquin made some quick notes. “Alright, what’s next?”
Jared went through the other two companies, one a construction outfit across the Midwest, looking to expand, asking for ten million. And the other, a company developing military grade technology to see through walls using sonar. Both seemed fascinating ideologically but each carried with them heavy speculation and risk.
“These are your vetted files,” Joaquin said. “Do you have any unvetted?”
Jared opened another file named “Slush.” Unlike the vetted file, this one held dozens of folders.
“How many are there?” Joaquin asked.
“Fifty plus.” Jared scrolled down, showing Joaquin the entire contents. “I get about ten a week. I’ve thrown out over a hundred, this year.”
“Really? Why?”
Jared shrugged. “Their stuff wasn’t together or too much risk or lack of proper management. That kind of stuff.”
“Do you have the old files, too?”
“Sure.” Jared opened a file titled “Dogs.”
“Wow, that looks like a lot of work.”
“It is.” Jared nodded. “But it’s fun. In each folder you’ll find a write up as to my research and analysis on each company.”
“Thank you. I’d like to dig through it in my free time. Learn what makes a company a dog.”
Jared smiled. “It’d be good to have a second set of eyes on them too. See if I missed anything.”
Stroking Jared’s ego seemed to help their relationship, a break in the fog of mistrust. “I’m sure you nailed it. You seem very thorough.”
“I try to be.”
Almost there. Joaquin was definitely in over his head, but Jared didn’t seem to acknowledge it. As long as Joaquin kept his ego in check, Jared would play ball. In prison, those that tried to prove something were the ones that ended up getting their asses kicked. The ones that didn’t act like they had anything to prove were the ones you had to keep an eye on. The same probably applied in business, too.
Joaquin pointed at the screen. “Do you mind if we take some of your slush pile and work through it so I can see your methodology?”
“Sure, no problem.”
They spent the next several hours analyzing a biotech company developing a host-defense peptide mimic to combat cancer.
Joaquin left the office after 10:00 p.m. He hadn’t eaten dinner, though he took a late lunch with Jared at the American Way Market.
In his apartment, Joaquin ordered Chinese food and took a shower, hoping that would revive him for the final task at hand.
He had gathered an enormous amount of data that now he needed to consolidate for presentation to Guzman by the morning. From home, he had access to the files on the company server, everything from the slush folder to another titled “Real Estate Ventures.” This sounded interesting but Joaquin didn’t have time for distractions. He decided to format his presentation to Guzman in PowerPoint, that way he could steal slides from the already prepared decks on things like company background and market data, keeping the presentation to two or three slides per company.
The doorbell rang. Joaquin’s mouth watered for the Chinese food. He hadn’t fully dressed since showering so he threw on a pair of shorts and opened the door.
Junior stood outside, dressed in a full suit and power tie.
“Hey, come in.” In the excitement of the task at hand, Joaquin had all but forgotten about his babysitter next door.
“How’s it going?” asked Junior.
“Good, I think. I’m working on that report now.”
“That’s great.” His tone and demeanor did little to support the statement. “Guzman is looking forward to it.” Junior held out a flash drive. “Drop all of Jared’s files onto this. I’ll collect it and your report in the morning.”
“Okay.” Joaquin took the drive.
“I’ll let you get to work.” Junior turned to leave.
“Thank you.”
“Oh,” the massive Mexican turned back around, “and don’t get distracted by that pretty red head. We need your mind in the game.”
Had it been that obvious? He’d tried to keep his distance today, but once he’d let his guard down and returned a little flirtatious banter. Junior couldn’t have seen that though, could he?
“You got it.”
Joaquin wasn’t sure what disturbed him more, Junior spying on his every move or his perceiving that Joaquin liked Kristin.
Chinese food arrived only moments after Junior left the apartment. Joaquin settled himself into the couch, turned on the soundtrack from Inception and dug into both the food and his project.
He had spent some of the evening at work researching FDA approvals. There were actually five parts to the process. First, IND or Initial New Drug—making application for the new drug. At this point only animals were tested, rats, pigs, dogs, even chimps. At Phase I, the FDA allowed testing in humans though these tests were mostly to determine toxicity of the drug, documenting how the human body interacted with it. Ample toxicity testing in animals happened prior to IND.
If the drug passed Phase I, then it began Phase II human trials that documented not only toxicity but drug efficacy. So to get to Phase II with favorable findings was pretty good and potentially valuable. Phase III involved a longer study looking at efficacy and toxicity with the final dosage and administrating procedures followed with exactness. At completion and approval of Phase III, the drug would be available for use in the US and that meant real money.
The final step, Phase IV, continued to monitor and document all those that used the drug following “approval” for a year or so to make sure there were no adverse effects.
One company in the slush pile developed a chronic wound treatment for diabetic foot ulcers. Joaquin had verified the company’s assertion that only one FDA-approved drug existed on the market for the treatment of diabetic foot ulcers. That drug carried a “Black Label” warning by the FDA that it could cause cancer.
Joaquin laughed at this, imagining how the conversation went with the doctor. “Mr. Patient, you have an ulcer on your leg. We could amputate or give you this drug that might give you cancer.” What a way to live, being caught between two terrible outcomes, and one company making a mint off the situation.
What surprised Joaquin most, was how a nation that put a man on the moon, had only one drug to treat a diabetic foot ulcer and that drug caused cancer. Surely the medical community was more advanced than this.
One drug in development had passed the Phase II trials, sold to a European based pharmaceutical company for over $750,000,000. Then a while later it failed its Phase III trials. There was a lot of risk in pharmaceuticals. But this current company in its Phase II trials had already raised thirty million in its A-round of funding and now sought another twenty million in exchange for twenty percent ownership.
The technology had been peer-reviewed and they had ample animal data. Joaquin put it aside for further analysis, but his gut told him it would be a good investment.
He stole a couple slides for the company’s presentation, adding them to the few dozen other slides he had already gathered. He took a bite of the Kung Pao chicken, feeling the burn of the added sriracha. He’d almost fully restored his tolerance for heat.
Another company in Jared’s vetted folder, Paramil Solutions, a military contractor sought
funding for high powered radio beam technology used to see through walls and identify hostiles and weaponry.
Joaquin’s thoughts turned to his brother. Something like this might have saved his life. Maybe he could get Guzman excited about the project, enough to fund it, and actually have some good come out of the cartel’s involvement with Northern.
At five a.m. Joaquin saved the final presentation to Junior’s thumb drive and downloaded all of Jared’s files as requested.
He knocked on Junior’s door to deliver the drive. It opened much quicker than Joaquin had expected for the hour. Junior stood in full suit, with an outstretched hand.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” Joaquin passed him the drive.
“No.” Junior shut the door.
Joaquin returned to his room, crashed on the bed and fell fast asleep.
31
The text read, “Your apartment ten minutes.”
Joaquin excused himself from the meeting, and after grabbing his satchel with his MacBook inside, he headed home.
Junior lived right next door. He could talk with Joaquin any day, morning or night and yet he still found ways to be inconvenient.
Then a thought crossed his mind. What if Spencer or his FBI pals had bugged Joaquin’s apartment despite their promises not to, putting him at unnecessary risk and Junior just found those bugs? Joaquin’s stomach turned.
He went up the elevator, wondering how he could find out if this were a trap or a legitimate meeting. If Junior had discovered an actual bug, why would he break with routine knowing that if Joaquin were guilty, he’d expect a break in routine to mean that he had been discovered? No, he was overreacting. Maybe Guzman had urgent orders for Junior to deliver. That made more sense.
Still, he kept his guard up as he approached the apartment. Inside, he found it the same as when he had left only hours earlier. Joaquin knocked on Junior’s door. The burly Mexican opened it just a crack and nodded. His cell phone was pressed against his ear. “Joaquin, está.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Chau.”
