“Isn’t it?” the by now red-faced director snorted. “A whole line of DNA lost forever. What a terrible, terrible waste.”
“Maybe you should make a movie to bring it to the world’s attention,” Jack suggested, trying not to laugh.
The famous director’s face instantly shrank into a wrinkled scowl. “Yes… well, unfortunately, there’s no money in it.”
“How sad,” Jack said and he meant it.
The movie director was politely but firmly pushed and shoved through the handshakes before he could get out a half-strangled sentence about this poor ignored tribe and the poisonous microbe-like that, an entire tribe doomed to the dustbin of history.
Eva went next: nobody shoved or hurried her through. In fact, the president awarded her an extra ten or twenty hardfisted pumps with a smile that nearly broke his jaw.
Then it was Jack shaking the most powerful hand in the world. “Nice to meet you,” the president said, gripping and grinning with vigor.
“My pleasure, sir,” Jack replied, trying gracefully to ease out of his clasp and move on.
The president wouldn’t let go. He bent forward. “Hey, ain’t you the fella with that miracle goop I been hearing about?”
“Actually, it’s-”
“Jack, our boys are dyin’ like cattle over there.”
“Yes sir, I know.”
“Oughta get that stuff over there soon as possible.”
“I believe it might-”
“You know, you couldn’t do better than the Capitol Group.” The president’s free hand landed on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed. The smile widened and the grip tightened.
“I’ll definitely think about it, sir.”
“Do that, Jack,” he said, suddenly quite serious, before he flashed his trademark silly, lopsided, dismissive grin. “Anything I can do, be sure to let me know.”
The ambassadorship to the Court of St. James’s would fit the bill rather nicely, Jack was tempted to say, but a well-practiced shove from the president’s shoulder hand interceded and Jack found himself walking beside Eva to their dinner table.
“That was amazing,” Eva announced, shaking her head, leaving it unclear whether she meant meeting the president or the arm-twisting over CG.
Actually, it wasn’t at all unclear. “Absolutely amazing,” Jack agreed. The president of the United States had just hawked the Capitol Group. How much did that cost? he wondered.
“He’s right, you know.”
“That might be a first,” Jack replied. “Hasn’t been right about much so far.”
“I promise I won’t say another word after this,” Eva told him, placing her hand on his arm as they walked. “CG has the strength and resources to make your dreams come true, Jack.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
“You’ll sign with CG?”
“Don’t say another word. More champagne?”
The dinner was lovely and delicious, the speeches predictably horrible, with the president mangling the names of the pimply king and queen, and they danced till eleven before Jack reminded Feist of his promise to have him home by midnight.
Eva offered to fly back up with him, Jack politely and regretfully declined, said his thanks to Feist, and by twelve-thirty was sleeping peacefully in his bed.
5
For seven long days and even longer nights, they did not hear a word from Jack Wiley. He ignored them completely.
But he was anything but ignored by them.
On day four, the gang at TFAC, CG’s contract security outfit, eavesdropped on an incoming call to Jack’s house phone. The call came at eight in the evening. The caller vaguely identified himself as Tom. No last name, just Tom.
There was a moment of empty pleasantries before Tom came to the point. “I just want to clarify our offer,” he told Jack, never quite identifying what firm he represented. “We’d really like to get a deal nailed down.”
“Make it better than what I heard this morning and we might,” Jack answered a little coolly. “Three of your competitors are offering more. Considerably more,” he emphasized, sounding like a man who was holding more offers than he could count. “You’re the bottom of the barrel, Tom. Step it up a notch, or this is a farewell call.”
A long, awkward pause. “How did you enjoy Bermuda?”
“It was nice, thanks.”
“
“I told you, it was nice.”
“We spared no expense, Jack. The CEO and half the board flew in to meet you. You looked like you were having a ball.”
“Okay, Tom, it was
A brief pause, then trying to sound more upbeat, “I spoke with the CEO and board this morning. They want this deal.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“They want it very badly, Jack,” Tom said. “They like you, and they love the product. I’ve never seen them this excited.”
“Good. Now remind them how to spell ‘excited’-twenty percent ownership for me. Not a percent less.”
“Jack, Jack, don’t be greedy or nearsighted. Focus on how quickly we can bring the product to market. How much we can sell. How many doors we can kick open. We’re big and powerful, and we’re prepared to make you a very rich man.”
“I’d rather be greedy, Tom. In fact, it’s fun.”
“Then focus on our resources and reach. We didn’t get this big by thinking small.”
“Give it a break. A firm of idiots will have the polymer on the market inside a month. You know that, and so do I. The product sells itself. I’ll say it again: twenty percent. Are you listening, Tom?”
“Look, Jack, you’re putting me between the rock and hard place. Left up to me… hell, you’d have it, the full twenty percent.”
“But…?”
“Well, sadly, the board just doesn’t believe your part’s worth that much.”
“So now we’re down to good cop, bad cop. Don’t patronize me, Tom.”
“Look, it’s-”
“No, you look. My role’s worth whatever I say it is. I’ll make some other company a boatload of money, and you’ll stand on the sideline and watch.”
“All right, all right.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Give me time to canvass them again.”
“Fine. Call me at ten tomorrow morning, at the office. Unless your board doesn’t meet my demands, then don’t bother.”
“Jesus, Jack, that’s impossible. It’s after eight. There are twelve board members, mostly old men. They need their sleep.”
“What makes you think I care? This is what you pay them for. After ten, I won’t be taking calls from you.”
