Read Online Insider X by Dave Buschi - Free Book Online

handed him the PowerPoint clicker.  Meade, to Sweetwater’s left, sat rigid in his chair.
    Marks knew the details on these two, also courtesy of Johnny Two-cakes.  Both had gotten law degrees and MBAs at the top shops.  Sweetwater: Harvard.  Meade: Yale.  These two “suits” (the suit thing was optional nowadays) were what were called Alphas in the corporate world.
    The paradox of that equation never ceased to amaze Marks.  In his world these two would be dog food.  But they weren’t in Marks’s world now.  Here, paper beat rock.  And Marks knew plenty about paper.  The paper men were always those that made the “difficult” decisions.
    More background: Sweetwater had been installed as CEO by the conglomerate that purchased IDF less than a year ago.  First order of business on Sweetwater’s part, after hiring Meade as his CFO—that first difficult decision—was to relocate operations from the States to here.  Marks and Lip were looking at two short timers.  Fat seven-figure payouts awaited these two.  As for the 22,237 employees that used to work for IDF?  They were back in the States in a payout line of a different sort.  That line was called unemployment.
    Sweetwater was giving Lip his full undivided attention.  That body language thing they taught you at business school, what two-hundred-thousand Harvard dollars bought you.  “Now Shawn, how is it we’ve never met?”
    Lip smiled.  “I was about to ask you the same question.”  Lip—give the man two points—was matching Sweetwater body language for body language.  And to think that Lip’s real alma mater (state school, which just so happened to be the same as Marks’s) cost a fraction of Harvard Man’s.  “Crimson ’91,” Lip said.  “What year was it for you again?”
    “Eighty-seven.”  Sweetwater’s blue eyes narrowed.  “PP&G?”
    “Ninety-nine till two-thousand three,” Lip said, not missing a beat.  The man could lie with the best of them.
    Sweetwater clapped his hands.  “Ah… we kept missing each other.  Still, hard to believe we never crossed paths.  What did you think of Snowden?”
    Snowden, PP&G man (not the other Snowden—who was feeding false intel to the Ruskies now).  Marks recalled the details on PP&G Snowden during their briefing.  Marks hoped Lip remembered a little of the man’s bio.
    Lip looked at Marks.  “He knows Snowden,” Lip said.
    Not good.  Lip didn’t remember.  Not that Marks was surprised.  They’d only been given seven hundred and twenty-two pages of background material to remember.  And if history was any guide, Lip tended to let Marks carry most of that water.
    “Don’t tell me you’re a PP&G man, as well?” Sweetwater said.
    “I met him at a conference,” Marks said.  “He was one of the guest speakers.”
    “Snowden was presenting?  Really? Where?” Sweetwater frowned.
    Marks needed to nip this quickly.  Name game was not what they needed to be doing right now.  Johnny Two-cakes and Lawrence had them covered, but not for this.
    “Junket thing.  Palm Springs,” Marks said, dryly.  “ Investing into Tomorrow .  Or something along those lines.  He gave a good speech.  5 handicap.  Likes single-malt.”
    Sweetwater laughed.  “Ha!  That’s Snowden.  Looks like someone shared some toddies.”  Sweetwater shifted his position in his chair and gave Marks his full undivided attention now.  What a frickin’ card, Marks thought. 
    “McKinley,” Sweetwater said.  “I like the name.  Family name?”
    “Good guess.  Mother’s side,” Marks said.  He glanced at the wall screen.  Time to redirect this; get this train back on track.  “Impressive results.”
    Lip finally got off his ass.  “Yes,” Lip said.  “Hu was just showing us the good stuff.”
    Sweetwater smiled, and glanced at Hu.  “I knew it.  You did steal my thunder.  Yes, we’ve been busy here.”  He looked back at Marks and Lip and his eyes narrowed.  Marks was