you? This isn’t normal! This is horrible!”
“Now, now,” urged Killegrew, coming over to pat Andrea’s
heaving shoulders, “there’s no point in going to pieces. The
telecommunications industry has gone through more terrible
times than this—the great blizzard of 1888, the Johnstown
flood, the San Francisco earthquake and fire, the Depression,
a bunch of wars, strikes, antitrust suits, Judge Harold Greene,
and the breakup of the Bell System. It’s just that what’s
happened to us here hits close to home. But bear up, the
train’s still on track. We have to show our mettle. After all,
we’re OTIOSE.”
The rallying cry did not go unheeded. “Here, here!” Ward
Haugland shouted, clapping his hands. “You’re darned
tootin’, Frank. What happened to Barry and now what’s
happened to Leon is pretty danged bad, but let’s face it,
we’ve got a business to run.” Somewhat clumsily, Ward got
to his feet. “Come on, Gene, let’s get Leon out of the way.”
OTIOSE’s corporate counsel held up both hands. “Sorry,
Ward. I won’t be a party to this. It’s not legal.”
Exasperated, Ward turned to Russell. “How about you?”
Russell grimaced. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, but
I’m rather…squeamish. I’d rather remember Leon as he was.”
“He was one pretty darned homely little bugger, if you ask
me,” Ward muttered. “I don’t reckon that being dead has
made him look much worse.”
Andrea’s sobs grew louder. “I can’t bear it! Shut up, Ward!
I hate you!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Ward threw up his hands. “I’ll get
Max. He won’t weasel out on me.”
Reluctantly, Gene got to his feet. “I’ll get the weapon. I’ll
wrap it in a towel.”
Killegrew’s expression was uneasy as he watched his
second-in-command and his legal counsel depart. “Did anybody bring a laptop?” he asked.
Margo sneered. “You told us to leave everything at the office except our fertile brains. No distractions, remember?”
“Yes, well…hmm.” Killegrew fingered his jutting chin.
“Maybe that was a mistake. In retrospect, of course. We
might have faxed somebody for help.”
“Using what?” put in Ava. “If the phone lines are down,
so are the fax lines. In case you’ve forgotten, Frank, they use
the same wire.”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Killegrew snapped, though
his face turned red. “I just thought that with all your gee-whiz
expertise, there might be another way.” He glared at Ava.
She gave the CEO an arch little smile. “I’m afraid not.
We’re helpless. We might as well be living in the nineteenth
century.”
Killegrew turned to Margo. “I hope you’re coming up with
some ideas about how to keep this from the media. I don’t
