reality.”
Impressed, Jeff nodded. “But where do I fit in?”
“You are witnessing history in the making, my boy. Right here! Our first real test of AMAG. I believe you have already met the key players. Keep in mind, your role is different from theirs! You are to represent me. I can't be here much. The industry monitors my whereabouts and if I should spend more than just a day or so here, it would be noticed. And that's not what we need right now. This needs to remain a corporate retreat, one of SERPAC's little perks, a place for executives to come for high-level meetings and a little R & R.
I come here to fish. You didn't know I love to fish, did you? Well, I really don't, but it's a good image and it keeps nosy competitors off my back. Anyhow, I need you to be here and watch over every step of this project. You have plenty of people to do all the work, so don't get wrapped up in micromanaging this project. That's not what I had in mind. You are to be me, be visible and be accessible. If problems arise, deal with them and report to me. The others are each managing a portion of this project and they will fill you in. I'll be on my way now. I believe the chauffeur is waiting. This is my cell phone number. I can be reached at any hour. Good luck.”
Saturday 12:55 p.m.
Jeff nervously clung to his empty coffee mug. David Smith had long ago draped the coat of his Armani suit over the back of a chair, his red tie was in a heap on a desk in the corner, his shirtsleeves rolled up. He too clung to his coffee mug. Ken Messer, comfortable in faded jeans and a ClubMed T-shirt, sat in front of a computer nervously watching the screen and listening to a voice on the speaker phone.
“Okay, folks, we're coming up. Looking good so far. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one and go.” After a sixty-second pause, the voice continued. “Gentlemen, we have had a successful thirty-second pulse of the AMAG system. The rest is up to you. Good luck.”
Ken turned and high five'd with everyone in the room except Jeff Craft, who interrupted the commotion.
“Okay, people, we need to get over to the area and videotape the test field. Then repeat the taping every four hours for the next forty-eight hours. Dave, Ken, let's go. The rest of you, return to your recorded data, make sure we have no inconsistencies, no errors in targeting. That program has given us far too many headaches! If you find something off, give me a buzz on the cell, here's the number. I'll be with Smith and Messer in the chopper.”
They met Ron the chauffeur, now the pilot, and in just minutes were airborne. Ron signaled for them to plug in their headphones. “We'll be over Camp Crowder in a few minutes. SERPAC leased some land from a farmer, adjacent to Camp Crowder. It's situated in a manner, that severely limits access and, when combined with the federal land, allows for a point five percent margin of error in targeting. The test field itself is on the leased land, we're using the federal land of the base as a safety buffer.”
Below them a blacktop highway wound its way through hills and valleys, running almost parallel to a small river. They saw several dirt roads branching off the blacktop road and counted a couple of small farms. There were meadows with grazing cattle and huge cornfields, but mostly it was all wooded. Then they swerved to the left, crossed the river and slightly curved back.
“You can start the cameras now,” the pilot said to Ken Messer. With one push of a button on the console beneath
Impressed, Jeff nodded. “But where do I fit in?”
“You are witnessing history in the making, my boy. Right here! Our first real test of AMAG. I believe you have already met the key players. Keep in mind, your role is different from theirs! You are to represent me. I can't be here much. The industry monitors my whereabouts and if I should spend more than just a day or so here, it would be noticed. And that's not what we need right now. This needs to remain a corporate retreat, one of SERPAC's little perks, a place for executives to come for high-level meetings and a little R & R.
I come here to fish. You didn't know I love to fish, did you? Well, I really don't, but it's a good image and it keeps nosy competitors off my back. Anyhow, I need you to be here and watch over every step of this project. You have plenty of people to do all the work, so don't get wrapped up in micromanaging this project. That's not what I had in mind. You are to be me, be visible and be accessible. If problems arise, deal with them and report to me. The others are each managing a portion of this project and they will fill you in. I'll be on my way now. I believe the chauffeur is waiting. This is my cell phone number. I can be reached at any hour. Good luck.”
Saturday 12:55 p.m.
Jeff nervously clung to his empty coffee mug. David Smith had long ago draped the coat of his Armani suit over the back of a chair, his red tie was in a heap on a desk in the corner, his shirtsleeves rolled up. He too clung to his coffee mug. Ken Messer, comfortable in faded jeans and a ClubMed T-shirt, sat in front of a computer nervously watching the screen and listening to a voice on the speaker phone.
“Okay, folks, we're coming up. Looking good so far. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one and go.” After a sixty-second pause, the voice continued. “Gentlemen, we have had a successful thirty-second pulse of the AMAG system. The rest is up to you. Good luck.”
Ken turned and high five'd with everyone in the room except Jeff Craft, who interrupted the commotion.
“Okay, people, we need to get over to the area and videotape the test field. Then repeat the taping every four hours for the next forty-eight hours. Dave, Ken, let's go. The rest of you, return to your recorded data, make sure we have no inconsistencies, no errors in targeting. That program has given us far too many headaches! If you find something off, give me a buzz on the cell, here's the number. I'll be with Smith and Messer in the chopper.”
They met Ron the chauffeur, now the pilot, and in just minutes were airborne. Ron signaled for them to plug in their headphones. “We'll be over Camp Crowder in a few minutes. SERPAC leased some land from a farmer, adjacent to Camp Crowder. It's situated in a manner, that severely limits access and, when combined with the federal land, allows for a point five percent margin of error in targeting. The test field itself is on the leased land, we're using the federal land of the base as a safety buffer.”
Below them a blacktop highway wound its way through hills and valleys, running almost parallel to a small river. They saw several dirt roads branching off the blacktop road and counted a couple of small farms. There were meadows with grazing cattle and huge cornfields, but mostly it was all wooded. Then they swerved to the left, crossed the river and slightly curved back.
“You can start the cameras now,” the pilot said to Ken Messer. With one push of a button on the console beneath
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