Corporate Hostilities
Posted: Mon May 25, 2015 8:53 pm
August 17, 2027
Hardy & Jameson's Exotic Imports, while perhaps not a full-time job, nonetheless required its top executive officers and ranking shareholders to make infrequent appearances at the Hope offices, where they had relocated roughly four or five years ago. And Marianna Jameson, owner and president, was no exception. As much as she hated paperwork and meetings, sometimes they just had to be done. This month, though, there was an urgency around that dwarfed the usual boredom and tedium.
"Let me get this straight," she inserted with a sigh, interrupting the clamor around her. "Alkaev is under attack, and H&J is in the crossfires."
"That, or we're next," another woman piped up. "Whatever it is, whoever's behind it, they're not pulling any punches. Hostile tactics from every chapter in the book; buyouts, intimidation, blatant strong-arming... even a few after hours IED attacks. Nothing lethal, just enough boom to wreck the shops."
"And where do we come in?" Mary prodded, crossing her arms beneath her chest.
"We've got contracts with Alkaev," another executive summarized. "It won't be long before we're approached about severing those contracts, giving them to a competitor."
"Any idea who?" No one had one. "Hm. Well, obviously the answer's going to be no, is that understood? Alkaev is one of our best customers, and we've had a long and lucrative partnership with them that I'm not willing to throw out over a couple thugs and their threats. Do I make myself clear?"
"Um, permission to speak candidly, ma'am?" the first woman asked. At Mary's nod, she grinned nervously. "Well, uh, shouldn't our answer be, um, hell no?"
Mary smiled back. "Go a little stronger, Alison."
"...f-fuck no...?" she replied in a small voice, unused to swearing in the boardroom.
That got a laugh from the retired cop. "That's the spirit." The rest of them laughed too, and some of the tension dissolved. "Come on everybody, let it all out! Fuck those cretins! Fuck 'em up the ass!" There followed a lot of laughter and cheering as they gave voice to what they really thought, and Mary was cheered by their loyalty to the company. "...alright, alright, settle down," and she waved her hands. "Party's over, back to business. So have the cops done anything?"
"The cops are stymied," one of them reported. "We suspect moles, but obviously since we're not directly threatened yet we can't be seen to show any interest. So we can't lean on them from our end." He gave Mary an inquisitive look. "You're with Shield, right? Can't you do something?"
"Me?" Mary replied, feigning ignorance. "Oh no, not me. I'm retired from all that nonsense." Another faint snigger ran through the room; they all knew that was crap. "But I guess I could make a phone call or two." She turned and looked out the window, taking in the clear sky and the blazing sun; it wasn't even noon, and already a bloody hot day. Perfect for random shit in her line of work to go down...
------------------------
And after the meeting adjourned, Mary stepped out onto the rooftop helipad and did just that. "Call Archie," she told her wrist computer, which blinked in agreement and made old-fashioned modem noises as the call went through. While she waited, she ignored the shimmering heat and gazed at the company chopper, a slightly retro old bird she was still conceited enough to fly herself. She missed the old Apache attack birds, some of which SCRT had access to when she was in service.
Hardy & Jameson's Exotic Imports, while perhaps not a full-time job, nonetheless required its top executive officers and ranking shareholders to make infrequent appearances at the Hope offices, where they had relocated roughly four or five years ago. And Marianna Jameson, owner and president, was no exception. As much as she hated paperwork and meetings, sometimes they just had to be done. This month, though, there was an urgency around that dwarfed the usual boredom and tedium.
"Let me get this straight," she inserted with a sigh, interrupting the clamor around her. "Alkaev is under attack, and H&J is in the crossfires."
"That, or we're next," another woman piped up. "Whatever it is, whoever's behind it, they're not pulling any punches. Hostile tactics from every chapter in the book; buyouts, intimidation, blatant strong-arming... even a few after hours IED attacks. Nothing lethal, just enough boom to wreck the shops."
"And where do we come in?" Mary prodded, crossing her arms beneath her chest.
"We've got contracts with Alkaev," another executive summarized. "It won't be long before we're approached about severing those contracts, giving them to a competitor."
"Any idea who?" No one had one. "Hm. Well, obviously the answer's going to be no, is that understood? Alkaev is one of our best customers, and we've had a long and lucrative partnership with them that I'm not willing to throw out over a couple thugs and their threats. Do I make myself clear?"
"Um, permission to speak candidly, ma'am?" the first woman asked. At Mary's nod, she grinned nervously. "Well, uh, shouldn't our answer be, um, hell no?"
Mary smiled back. "Go a little stronger, Alison."
"...f-fuck no...?" she replied in a small voice, unused to swearing in the boardroom.
That got a laugh from the retired cop. "That's the spirit." The rest of them laughed too, and some of the tension dissolved. "Come on everybody, let it all out! Fuck those cretins! Fuck 'em up the ass!" There followed a lot of laughter and cheering as they gave voice to what they really thought, and Mary was cheered by their loyalty to the company. "...alright, alright, settle down," and she waved her hands. "Party's over, back to business. So have the cops done anything?"
"The cops are stymied," one of them reported. "We suspect moles, but obviously since we're not directly threatened yet we can't be seen to show any interest. So we can't lean on them from our end." He gave Mary an inquisitive look. "You're with Shield, right? Can't you do something?"
"Me?" Mary replied, feigning ignorance. "Oh no, not me. I'm retired from all that nonsense." Another faint snigger ran through the room; they all knew that was crap. "But I guess I could make a phone call or two." She turned and looked out the window, taking in the clear sky and the blazing sun; it wasn't even noon, and already a bloody hot day. Perfect for random shit in her line of work to go down...
------------------------
And after the meeting adjourned, Mary stepped out onto the rooftop helipad and did just that. "Call Archie," she told her wrist computer, which blinked in agreement and made old-fashioned modem noises as the call went through. While she waited, she ignored the shimmering heat and gazed at the company chopper, a slightly retro old bird she was still conceited enough to fly herself. She missed the old Apache attack birds, some of which SCRT had access to when she was in service.