Danger Close by James Sumner (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

He gazed at the initials of his predecessor. It was Josh who had told him that the higher you got promoted, the less work you did, and the more work you got to delegate.

He smiled to himself and muttered, “Lying bastard.”

His intercom buzzed, pulling him back to reality. He pressed the flashing button.

“Yes?”

“Sir, your five o’clock is here,” said Kim from outside. “Should I send him in?”

Buchanan took a deep breath. “Yeah, please. And no calls or interruptions during this one, okay?”

“Of course.”

Buchanan stood and straightened his tie, neatened the collar of his shirt, and tucked it properly into his pants. He lifted the suit jacket from the back of his chair and slid it over his barreled frame as the door opened.

Kim gestured the visitor inside. The man strode in with all the confidence of someone who was used to owning whatever room he entered. His thin, white hair bounced on his head as he walked. He was north of sixty. Not overweight, but his days of being called slim were behind him. His navy blue suit was freshly pressed and shining.

Kim closed the door behind her as she left. Buchanan stepped around his desk and extended a hand.

“Mr. Hall, thank you for coming,” he said.

The man shook it firmly. “Quincy, please. And thank you for the invite, Mr. Buchanan.”

“Moses.” He gestured to the chair facing his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

“Your secretary’s a hell of a girl, isn’t she?” said Hall, sitting down. “I bet you keep her working late as often as possible, eh? Am I right?”

Buchanan smiled politely. “Not unless I have to,” he replied. “She’s an extremely qualified and capable woman, but she has a life outside of these walls.”

Hall grinned, sensing he had struck a nerve like a shark smelling blood in the water. He retrieved a cigar from inside his suit jacket and gestured with it to Buchanan. “Do you mind?”

“Actually, yes. There’s no smoking in the building.”

Hall laughed and took out a lighter. “Rules don’t really apply to men like us, though. Am I right?”

Buchanan held his gaze as he leaned forward slightly in his seat. When he spoke, he remained friendly but didn’t hide his assertiveness. “My rules apply to everyone who comes into my house, Mr. Hall. No smoking.”

Hall’s smile faded. He put the cigar and lighter away. “Fair enough, Mr. Buchanan. So, you care to tell me what this meeting is about? I don’t usually take meetings without an agenda.”

Buchanan relaxed back into his seat. “I wanted to meet with you as a courtesy. One… megacorporation to another. Thought we might be able to help each other out.”

Hall frowned. “How so?”

“Tristar Security. Their issues, while tragic, have been a well-publicized and messy problem for all concerned.”

“I saw the siege in New York on the news last week,” he said, shrugging. “Awful business.”

“Indeed. GlobaTech has been involved in tying up some loose ends, shutting down what remained of Tristar’s illegal operations as a favor to the FBI. Key members of the board have gone to ground. Once the grunt work is finished, there will be one hell of a legal battle, I imagine.”

Hall nodded. “Most likely. But what’s this have to do with me?”

“Well, since Tristar is owned by Orion International, I figured it would serve us both well if I shared everything we had about what they were really doing. Orion being as public as it is, I thought you would jump at the chance to sort all the paperwork out yourself and keep it out of the media spotlight.”

Hall said nothing. His eyes glazed over as he traced one of the hard creases that defined his face with a finger, seemingly lost in thought.

Buchanan watched him, trying to decide if he had pushed too hard too quickly. There was no concrete proof or logical reason why Orion would be directly involved in anything Tristar did. The black ops, the kidnappings, the arms trafficking… not exactly calling cards of a media conglomerate. This meeting was about genuine professional courtesy between two of the biggest corporate entities the world had ever seen. Yet Hall’s reaction seemed odd.

“Mr. Hall?” said Buchanan.

Hall refocused. “You’re certain Tristar are one of Orion’s assets?”

Buchanan raised an eyebrow and played along. “They’re owned by a holding company which is a subsidiary of Orion International, yes. I assumed you would’ve known that?”

“Moses, Orion owns hundreds of corporate assets, which themselves own numerous companies. We employ people to handle acquisitions of all sizes. The board doesn’t involve themselves in every detail of the day-to-day running of things. Surely, you’re the same?”

“Actually, no. I’m CEO and have a board of directors that report to me. They manage the day-to-day stuff here, but I know everything about all of it. I’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

“I see. Well, I certainly appreciate the courtesy. What information do you have? Like you say, if Orion is exposed in some way, or if there are any pending legal issues that need to be dealt with, we would much prefer to keep this out of the press.”

Buchanan slid a file across the desk. “I thought so. It’s all in there. Proof of arms trafficking. Witness statements and photographic evidence of kidnapping. Industrial espionage. Illegal overseas operations. A list of people involved, both in custody with the FBI and still unaccounted for following the siege. Basically, enough detail that The Hague will think Christmas has come early.”

Hall flicked through the contents of the folder without pausing long enough on each page to really look at what was written on it.

“What about the siege itself?” asked Hall.

“What about it?”

“Well, I heard a rumor that the gunman who stormed the building and killed all those people was one of yours.”

“Really? And where did you hear that?”

Hall shrugged. “We own three of the biggest news networks in the western hemisphere. There were a number of reports that day…”

Buchanan nodded. “There were. But I can assure you, the man responsible wasn’t one of ours and is being sought