stopped the video and the screen returned to a pleasant blue. She
scanned the large room where fifteen heads, mostly white males in their
early to mid-forties, stared anxiously at one man sitting at the head of
the table. The group had been sequestered in the tension-filled room
for hours.
Nathan Gamble, the chairman of Triton Global, was a barrel-chested
individual of medium height, in his mid-fifties, with gray-streaked hair
brushed straight back and held rigidly in place with a substantial
amount of gel. The expensive double-breasted suit was professionally
tailored to his stocky form. His face was deeply lined and carried the
remnants of an off-season tan. His voice was baritone and commanding;
Sidney could easily envision the man bellowing across conference room
tables at quaking underlings. The head of a far-reaching corporate
powerhouse, he certainly looked and acted the part.
From under thick gray eyebrows, Gamble’s dark brown eyes were glued on
her. Sidney returned the stare. “Do you have any questions, Nathan?”
“just one.”
Sidney steadied herself. She could feel it coming. “What is it?”
she asked pleasantly.
“Why the hell are we doing this?”
Everyone in the room, except for Sidney Archer, winced as though they
had collectively sat on one gigantic needle.
“I’m not sure I understand your question.”
“Sure you do, unless you’re stupid, and I know you’re not.” Gamble spoke
quietly, his features inscrutable despite the sharpness of his rhetoric.
Sidney bit her tongue hard. “I take it you don’t like having to sell
yourself in order to buy CyberCom?”
Gamble looked around the table. ‘They offered an exorbitant amount of
cash for that company. Apparently, nor content with making a ten
thousand percent return on their investment, now they want to go through
my records. Correct?” He looked at Sidney for an answer. She nodded
without speaking, and Gamble continued.
“I’ve bought a lot of companies and no one has ever asked for those
materials before. Now CyberCom does. Which gets back to my earlier
question. Why are we doing this? What the hell’s so special about
CyberCom?” His eyes made an exacting scope of the table before settling
once again on Sidney.
A man seated to the left of Gamble stirred. A laptop computer in front
of him had drawn his attention throughout the meeting.
Quentin Rowe was the very young president of Triton and subordinate only
to Nathan Gamble. While all the other men in the room were entombed in
stylish suits, he was dressed in khaki pants, worn deck shoes, a blue
denim shirt and a brown vest buttoned up the front. Two diamond studs
were lodged in his left earlobe. He looked more suited to appearing on
an album cover than stepping into a boardroom.
“Nathan, CyberCom is special,” Rowe said. “Without them we could well
be out of business within two years. CyberCom’s technology will
completely reinvent and then dominate how information is processed over
the Internet. And as far as the high-tech business is concerned, that’s
like Moses coming down the mountain with the Commandments; there’s no
substitute.” Rowe’s tone was a little weary but carried strident
undertones. He did not look at Gamble.
Gamble lit up a cigar, casually leaning his expensive lighter up against
a small brass sign on the table that read NO SMOKING. “You know, Rowe,
that’s the problem with this high-tech crap: You’re king of the hill in
the morning and cow shit by the afternoon. I never should have gotten
into the damn business in the first place.”
“Well, if money is all you care about, keep in mind that Triton is the
world’s dominant technology company and generates more than two billion
dollars in profits per quarter,” Quentin Rowe shot back.
“And cow shit by tomorrow afternoon.” Gamble gave Rowe a sidelong glance
filled with disgust and puffed away.
Sidney Archer cleared her throat. “Not if you acquire CyberCom,
Nathan.” Gamble turned to look at her. “You’ll be on top for at least
the next decade and your profits could well triple within five years.”
“Really?” Gamble did not look convinced.
“She’s right,” Rowe added. “You have to understand that no one, until
now, has been able to design software and related communication