Read Online The Foundation: Jack Emery 1 by Steve P. Vincent - Free Book Online
Authors: Steve P. Vincent
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the station, find the ticket counter and get to Yokosuka. Still, the job gave him something to keep him occupied, which was the main thing.
And if it got him a little bit closer to Shanghai, so much the better.
***
As usual, Ernest had arrived for the meeting of the EMCorp board earlier than necessary; he liked to have time to get into his groove, sip his coffee and wait. As others entered the room, he’d size them up from a position of strength, considering any advantages or disadvantages. He would plot.
Not today.
Today the room closed in around him, suffocating. He felt exhausted and vulnerable, tired and beaten. This was usually his arena, where he fought his greatest foes. More often than not he’d subjugate them and emerge victorious. Today though, he felt like a Roman slave, given a sword and told to go fight a lion.
He turned to face Peter, who was sitting in the usual position to his left, ready to take the minutes. “They’re going to get me this time, Peter.”
Peter looked up from his paperwork. “Don’t count on it. They’re all bluff and bluster. They’ve had you on the ropes before and never managed to bring you down.”
“This might be the day. Too much baggage. Too much politics. Too many ex-wives diluting my stock holding, waiting for their turn to help stick the knife in one last time.”
Peter sighed. “You might be okay. Hit them hard from the outset, draw your line in the sand and force them to cross it. It’s the only chance.”
Ernest nodded and turned back to the table. He arranged his papers as the boardroom door opened and the rest of the board filed in, escorted by Ernest’s secretary. He kept his face blank and didn’t say anything. His few allies on the board would know how dire things were and he saw no need to give his enemies an advantage.
“Thanks, everyone.” Peter paused as the others settled. “I confirm that we have a quorum and that the board meeting is open.”
Ernest looked around the room absentmindedly as Peter recalled the minutes from the previous meeting. He knew that a challenge would come today. He could feel it. But he didn’t know who’d have the balls to do it. This situation was as fluid as it was professionally deadly. He had a list of suspects, but only time would tell.
The two most senior and most obvious candidates were Steve Wilson, who’d sat on the board for a decade, and Dan Grattan, the Chief Operating Officer. Neither liked him much, but they didn’t feel right. Ernest was certain that the challenge would come from one of the lesser lights, preordained by the others. He readied himself.
“So, if there are no objections to the minutes, we’ll endorse them and move on.”
“Okay, thanks, Peter. I just want to note that we’ve got some people missing or deceased.” Ernest cleared his throat. “Now, the first order of business is—”
“Sorry for interrupting, Ernest.” Al Preston leaned forward. “I’ve got an extraordinary motion burning a hole in my pocket.”
Ernest waved a hand. “Let’s hear it then.”
Preston seemed slightly taken aback. “Well, thing is, a few of us believe the time might have come for you to stand aside, Ernest. Voluntarily, if possible.”
Ernest laughed boisterously for several long seconds. “A half-assed appeal to my better judgment, Al? Fuck your beliefs, you’ll need to do better than that.”
Preston looked shocked, and momentarily lost his composure. “Ernest, please, it doesn’t need to be like—”
“Sure, it does. I gave your father his place on this board, rest his soul, and I did the same for you. I’ll drop dead before I step down for you. Now shut up.”
Ernest sat back and grinned as murmurs and sideways glances were shared by the other eighteen board members. They obviously hadn’t expected him to be so belligerent, and he thought for a second that Preston’s plea might be it. Peter’s advice to hit them hard and early might have worked.
He noticed movement to
And if it got him a little bit closer to Shanghai, so much the better.
***
As usual, Ernest had arrived for the meeting of the EMCorp board earlier than necessary; he liked to have time to get into his groove, sip his coffee and wait. As others entered the room, he’d size them up from a position of strength, considering any advantages or disadvantages. He would plot.
Not today.
Today the room closed in around him, suffocating. He felt exhausted and vulnerable, tired and beaten. This was usually his arena, where he fought his greatest foes. More often than not he’d subjugate them and emerge victorious. Today though, he felt like a Roman slave, given a sword and told to go fight a lion.
He turned to face Peter, who was sitting in the usual position to his left, ready to take the minutes. “They’re going to get me this time, Peter.”
Peter looked up from his paperwork. “Don’t count on it. They’re all bluff and bluster. They’ve had you on the ropes before and never managed to bring you down.”
“This might be the day. Too much baggage. Too much politics. Too many ex-wives diluting my stock holding, waiting for their turn to help stick the knife in one last time.”
Peter sighed. “You might be okay. Hit them hard from the outset, draw your line in the sand and force them to cross it. It’s the only chance.”
Ernest nodded and turned back to the table. He arranged his papers as the boardroom door opened and the rest of the board filed in, escorted by Ernest’s secretary. He kept his face blank and didn’t say anything. His few allies on the board would know how dire things were and he saw no need to give his enemies an advantage.
“Thanks, everyone.” Peter paused as the others settled. “I confirm that we have a quorum and that the board meeting is open.”
Ernest looked around the room absentmindedly as Peter recalled the minutes from the previous meeting. He knew that a challenge would come today. He could feel it. But he didn’t know who’d have the balls to do it. This situation was as fluid as it was professionally deadly. He had a list of suspects, but only time would tell.
The two most senior and most obvious candidates were Steve Wilson, who’d sat on the board for a decade, and Dan Grattan, the Chief Operating Officer. Neither liked him much, but they didn’t feel right. Ernest was certain that the challenge would come from one of the lesser lights, preordained by the others. He readied himself.
“So, if there are no objections to the minutes, we’ll endorse them and move on.”
“Okay, thanks, Peter. I just want to note that we’ve got some people missing or deceased.” Ernest cleared his throat. “Now, the first order of business is—”
“Sorry for interrupting, Ernest.” Al Preston leaned forward. “I’ve got an extraordinary motion burning a hole in my pocket.”
Ernest waved a hand. “Let’s hear it then.”
Preston seemed slightly taken aback. “Well, thing is, a few of us believe the time might have come for you to stand aside, Ernest. Voluntarily, if possible.”
Ernest laughed boisterously for several long seconds. “A half-assed appeal to my better judgment, Al? Fuck your beliefs, you’ll need to do better than that.”
Preston looked shocked, and momentarily lost his composure. “Ernest, please, it doesn’t need to be like—”
“Sure, it does. I gave your father his place on this board, rest his soul, and I did the same for you. I’ll drop dead before I step down for you. Now shut up.”
Ernest sat back and grinned as murmurs and sideways glances were shared by the other eighteen board members. They obviously hadn’t expected him to be so belligerent, and he thought for a second that Preston’s plea might be it. Peter’s advice to hit them hard and early might have worked.
He noticed movement to
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