Money, money, money

[Vive La France]

MONEY, MONEY, MONEY!

Written by Vive la France

 

 

 

Characters

 

• Micheal Klaus, the protagonist of the story. Slightly nerdy, very cunning and charismatic

• Stephen Hunter, a European investor.

• Fred Henderson, Micheal's old boss. Tries to fire Micheal multiple times, and a real pain.

• Greg Miller, the CEO of the company for which Micheal works

• Gunther K. Pleasant, an industrialist bent on ruining the lives of everyone in Micheal's company

Edited January 27, 2008 by Vive La France

[Vive La France]

Prolouge

 

"Micheal, I just don't understand you," said Fred, the regional manager of Springco Computer Corporation.

"All I was trying to do was make us some money," Micheal Klaus said. He was a tall, good looking guy. He was in his thirties, and had a fake jaw from a motorcycle accident in San Fransisco.

"And we lost two million because of your retarded stunt!"

"But we gained many employees, and we got international attention about our product," Micheal said.

"I still think that when I asked you to organize an outreach, that didn't mean buying out the local Ozzfest! Why the hell did you do that? So Daath could say "use Springco Computers, they spring to the top?" said Fred. That was the slogan of the company, and Micheal hated it. It was ridiculous.

"No. I tried to get attention from the teenage population. Many of them visit these heavy metal festivals, and some might buy our Joovk MP3 player,"

"SOME! Not the amount it took to hire the best heavy metal bands for a day to endorse our MP3 players! I don't care if we have 256 new employees. In fact, I've been yelled at by management in DC because of the complaints. Most of them come to work with piercings, you name it! They barley get work done, and we had to fire most of them! One of them actually made a sale to a school district, until they found the guy had three bottles of Vodka in his company car!"

"Look, you know I'm a bit reckless..." Micheal tried to defend himself.

"A BIT? You hired OZZY OSBOURNE to endorse our product. Remember the words "limited budget" I told you about?"

"Yeah. I was considering a TV commercial, but..."

"That would have been perfect!" screamed Fred.

"But it included having to hire a professional skier to do some heli skiing off the Himalyas, so it really wasn't in the budget," Micheal said.

"What? No f*cking way you're serious," said Fred. "Maybe you could have had, I dunno, maybe a couple of guys in a bar talking about our product?"

"Well, I did want to have it air during the Superbowl, so..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You wanted a SUPERBOWL commercial?" Fred was in tears now.

"We had to close down our Montreal branch because of you! You'll be lucky if they don't close down San Fransisco! And you'll be responsible! For all of it! The company failing, employees unemployed, my god!"

"Well, actually Rio liked my work," said Micheal. He was suppressing a grin.

"In fact, I was offered the post of Manager at the Rio De Janeiro branch. So in fact, I'm kinda saying this'll be my last day here! I'm in to make the big bucks, Fred. So, the next time I'll see you is probably at the International Springco meeting. So, bye!" Micheal abruptly stood up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his sports jacket, and left the office.

 

Fred found the letter of resignation on Micheal's desk. Of course, he called back begging Micheal to stay. He said he wasn't serious, and that he would give him a twenty percent pay raise. Fred Henderson was a suck up. At the conventions, he always followed the CEO of the corporation, agreeing with him. And Micheal was in this situation a dozen times. But this time, it was real. He stood outside the Springco San Fransisco branch building, looked at the printout email from Rio, and said to himself "Money, money, money, here I come!"

[Vive La France]

Chapter 1

 

The Airbus A380 touched down in Rio De Janeiro's airport two days later. Micheal, a bachelor, brought along all his belongings. He had an Archos 604 MP3 player, A Macbook, a Treo smartphone, bluetooth headseat, and some notepad paper for "the meetings with the oldies", yet it was FLYpaper, paper which was copied directly into a computer file via the electronic pen. He could be considered an ultra nerd. Micheal took the complete Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis series with him, stored on his computer. Three 6 gigabyte flashdrives, and an extra 250 GB Hard disk. The only thing he had with him that wasn't electronic was his toothpaste, since his toothbrush was electric. Airport security was hell for him. Every single object had to go through separately, apart from his clothes: two pairs of underwear, a Hawaiian Shirt, and Khaki pants. The cheap business suit he wore was itching his back.

 

It was only ten minutes later when Micheal left the airport's tarmac and exited out into the humid and steaming air. In the distance, he saw the Jesus statue on Corcovado mountain. To his left was the Sugar Loaf mountain, and ahead was an open city, with ocean after. He reached his heaven. Micheal entered one of the Taxicabs parked at the gate, made sure the meter was running, and said the address of the hotel he was visiting. His apartment was still in the process of being built, which meant he would have to live in a suite at the Marina Palace hotel on Leblon beach. The driver nodded, and the taxi sped off into the distance.

 

It took a while for Micheal to get set up in his room. He charged his Treo, and opened his MacBook. He plugged in his MP3 player, which had large amounts of heavy metal on it. And then some funk, and opera. Micheal's musical tastes were very, very strange. He made a playlist of Dio's "Holy Diver," followed by some Ozzy and then "We Want the Funk". He put on his Bluetooth, and had the Macbook play through that as he changed into the Hawaiian shirt and pants. He put the Bluetooth Headset in the left pocket, and grabbed a soda from the minibar. Thank god the company's paying for this, Micheal thought. He drank the coke in a few drinks, packed up his things and put it in the backpack, but left the suit. He put the backpack in the room safe, and then took off his heavy dress shoes, and put on some flip flops. Since work started in a week, Micheal would take a whole week to get to know the place. A whole week here, in Rio De Janerio, Brazil, getting rest. It was like paid vacation, but in the end they buy you an apartment. Bliss!

 

Micheal walked along the seashore, looking out at the islands in the distance. His hotel was a towering 30 foot giant on the Leblon beach compared to the other buildings apart from the Sheraton in the slum area. Micheal felt free. The sun was shining, he had his dark reflecting aviators on, and he had cheap flip flops he bought at the airport on his feet. He began to smile, and scooped up some of the sand in his hands. It was soft, softer than the sand he had back in San Fransisco. Micheal still loved San Fransisco, and he would be going to the US every two weeks for three days to DC to Springco headquarters. He still had friends in San Fransisco, but hey, there was a thing called Skype. And Micheal planned to use it.

"Sir?" asked a man who was in a well dressed uniform.

"Yes?" Micheal said.

"You are Micheal Klaus, manager of Sprinco Rio branch?" asked the man.

"Yeah," Micheal replied with a puzzled expression.

"The hotel said you were here. Anyway, the CEO of Springco came to Rio especially to talk to you. He wants to meet you at a place called Alcazars on Copacabana tonight. And he doesn't care about looks. Come as you are. Meet him there at 7 O'clock, OK?" said the man. Micheal nodded, and said "Yeah, I'll be there," in his deep voice. The man nodded, and scurried off to a limousine parked at the side of the street. The back window opened, and he saw the face of CEO Greg Miller. He waved, and closed the window. The limo then sped off, and Micheal looked at the leaving limo. Dinner with the CEO? With luck, he could get high enough in this company to fire his old asshole boss. He turned back to the ocean, and thought. He decided to walk to Copacabana. It was probably only a mile or so. Why not? He began walking towards the end of the beach, where a big rock stood. On the other side of that rock was Copacabana beach, a bay beach which was famous with tourists. Michael's began his walk, and looked at his Rolex. He changed the time zone , and walked on. Micheal walked up to the road, and bought a hot dog and a soda. Truly touristic look. Rich American. Micheal saw the smiling people around him, but felt a bit uneasy when he realized that he stood out. He was tall, white, and was wearing American clothes. He had a Rolex, and was drinking a coke and eating a hot dog for god's sake! He quickly ate the food, and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. His face felt the heat of the sun, and he forgot to put on sunblock.

"sh*t!" he cursed to himself. He crossed the street and walked under the cover of the tents of a local fair. In his head, he heard the language around him. He had a phrasebook on his computer, and he would study that tonight. The only reason that Springco had a Rio branch was so they could sell to the rich guys here who were too lazy to get their fat asses on a plane and go to the US for a day. The workers in the office all were Americans like Micheal, transferred from different branches. But Micheal felt that this branch was going to be strong. And with that, he continued down the street.

[Oblivionz]

Good story, I like the way this is going. I have a feeling someone is going to screw him over though..

[Vive La France]

Chapter 2

 

It took Micheal an hour to get to Alcazar's restaurant. It was around 5 PM, and he had three hours to spare. Micheal remembered ordering from his phrasebook on the plane, and was getting ready for the boss. After he was sure how to order whilst listening to snippets of conversation, he walked over to the beach. It was 5:15, and he decided to do one thing Rio was famous for: get some rays.

 

At 6:45 PM, Micheal stood outside the restaurant. Sure enough, the limo pulled out and out exited Mr. Miller. Micheal watched him tell the driver something, and the limo pulled away. Micheal greeted him.

"Hey, Micheal!" said Greg. "Long time, no see!" he commented. The last time he saw Greg was when he inspected the San Fransisco office and turned to him, and said he would go a long way in Springco. That was back in 2005. "So, Micheal. I needed to talk to you," said Greg. As usual, he was in an expensive custom tailored suit with a silk tie. The tie was given to him when he had dinner at the White House, and it was given to him by the White House Correspondents Association. The tie was a dark, maroon red with the Great Seal of the United States in the background faintly. Micheal stood at about the same height, and a bit more unshaven. The two men had about the same build. Micheal sat down, and Greg did so as well. They talked about what they would order until the waiter came, and they ordered. And then it was business.

"Micheal, when I promoted Henderson I had no idea what I was doing. I for one think the Ozzfest idea was great. Your branch lost money, but our stock went up by ten points. You're an intelligent man, Micheal. Which is why I assigned you here," said Greg. Micheal nodded. "You see, the only reason we actually have a branch here is for manufacturing and we have a one floor office for paperwork. Our sales department here consists of two people. And one of them is the HR guy as well. Basically, your office is a 10,000 square foot floor with some cubicles, and a warehouse in the south zone of the city around Ipanema. You'll be flying to Dulles Airport every other Wednesday and spending two days in our Arlington headquarters. Your assistant manager will take over for you four days a month, and you get to pick them. Just don't pick the HR guy," said Greg jokingly. "He'll have too much work on his hands. Sales, the whole HR department, and then the whole office. He's just not enough," Greg explained. "Once the renovation of your apartment is done, we'll move you there. The apartment is across the street from the office, so you'll have no need for a car. It was a rather vague email we sent you, eh?"

"Yeah," Micheal said. He wasn't paying attention, but he was watching a young Brazillian guy without a shirt constantly taking pictures of him and Greg. It was getting eerie.

"Micheal!" said Greg, noticing he wasn't watching. "OK, so tomorrow we'll pay for a ride up to Corcovado mountain. You'll get to see the whole city from up there. My limo will take you there, and that car is yours when I'm not here. It is still my legal property, but you can call the driver and have him take you wherever you need. He'd probably drive you all the way to Sao Paulo if you needed. So he'll pick you up at the hotel at noon, after you've had your food and rest. They have some great watermelon juice in that breakfast buffet. That's where I stay if I need to be here longer than a day. Anyway, more about the car. The car is at the airport, so call two hours in advance before you need it. One for the driver to get to it, and one for the car to get to you, OK?"

"Yeah," Micheal said again. He looked over at the limo, and saw it was a Cadillac. This was getting better each second. After that, Greg discussed his paycheck and work basics. Then they talked for about half an hour, and the Greg stood up, and said goodbye. Micheal stood up, and asked if the limo would take him to the hotel. Greg nodded, and they were off.

 

He got back to the hotel room, and opened up his MacBook. He opened up his email, and saw he had a new company email. He opened it.

 

From: Fred Henderson ([email protected])

To: Micheal Klaus ([email protected])

At: 7:56 PM (local time)

Subject: Hey!

 

Hey Mike,

 

How's life in paradise, asshole?

 

Regards, Fred.

 

Micheal smiled, and returned the email.

 

Fine, thanks. Just learned something about the SF branch, but I won't tell what ...

 

Best wishes, Mike

 

Micheal loved playing games with Fred. If he was right, Fred would freak out and constantly call Greg or some other executive in the DC HQ and start sucking up. It was a fun game to play, but now, it was time for sleep. Micheal shut down the computer, cleaned his teeth, and climbed into bed. A successful first day on the job!

[Coral_City]

I like this story. It's something very original... doesn't have that crime/gangster feeling yet, which makes it very fresh. The writing is good, you fleshed out Michael -- seemingly -- very well (IMO) and dialogue is fine. I'm interested in seeing where you're gonna take this story!

 

Keep up the great writing.

[Vive La France]

Thanks for the great comments! Here is:

 

Chapter 3

 

Micheal awoke the second day with a feeling of wellbeing. He walked over to the table barefoot and pulled out his laptop. He checked his email. Sure enough:

 

From: Fred Henderson ([email protected])

To: Micheal Klaus ([email protected])

At: 9:45 PAM (local time)

Subject: Hey!

 

Hey Mike,

 

YOU ASSHOLE! Tell me now! Mike, please!

 

Fred

 

Micheal put his feet up, and turned on his music collection. He took a Coke from the minibar, and began to drink it. This was the life.

 

About an hour later, Micheal took the elevator up to the rooftop swimming pool. It was a hot day as Micheal opened the elevator doors and found himself with an astonishing view of Rio. He sat down at the rooftop bar next to a guy who was wearing a suit.

"Morning," Micheal said.

"Same to you, sir," said the man in a British accent. Micheal sat down next to him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"My name is Stephen. Who are you?"

"I'm Mike, or Micheal, whichever you prefer," Micheal replied. They both ordered their drinks and then they sprung into conversation. It was mostly chitchat, until Stephen asked "Where do you work?". Micheal explained he worked at Springco, and Stephen immediately gained interest.

"What's your job?"

"I'm manager at the Rio branch..." said Micheal.

"Listen... I need to talk to you, but somewhere private. Meet me in my room, on floor 27. I'm in room 2713. Knock five times at 6 tonight. I'll open, and give you the offer of a lifetime," Stephen said. He abruptly stood up, and walked away with his drink. Micheal took his, stood up, and walked around the roof. He watched the stunning view of Corcovado. After a couple minutes, he looked over the edge and saw a dark limo, and a familiar figure entered it. The Limo had two dark cars on either side, and men in suits standing around it. This Stephen figure seemed shady... Perhaps he was really a criminal. But then again, what was life if you had no risk.

 

After a day of slacking on the beach, Micheal returned to the hotel and got to floor 27. He walked over to the room, and knocked five times. The door opened, and Micheal went inside. It was a suite, filled with elegant couches and paintings. Stephen held the door open.

"Welcome, Mr. Klaus," said Stephen.

"How the f*ck did you know that?" asked Micheal.

"I googled "Micheal Rio Springco", so it was quite easy," Stephen replied. He closed and bolted the door, and said "Sit down, please." Micheal felt uneasy but he kept going and sat down on a couch. Stephen followed .

"Who are you?" Micheal asked.

"Why who? You should be asking why..." Stephen replied. "But anyway, my name is Stephen Hunter. I'm a European investor, and I have a little deal for you," said Hunter. Micheal nodded his head, and Hunter pulled out a suitcase. He opened it and pulled out a Dell laptop.

"This, my friend, is what I need you to do. I know for a fact that Springco is going bankrupt. They haven't announced it, but my friend who attends the board meetings in Arlington knows that they are being bought out due to bankruptcy. Sadly, Micheal, that means you will lose your job. That's why they brought you down here. You'll be stuck in Rio with no money. That's why the salary was so great: they never intended to give you one. The company would go bankrupt within a week. Your stocks are useless, and your retirement fund is crashed. They never worked on your apartment; and in fact, your apartment never existed," Stephen explained. Micheal was stunned.

"But, wait, that can't be. What about the San Fransisco branch?"

"They'll be the last ones left, and the manager there will be left with nothing as well," Stephen said. Micheal smiled, knowing that he wasn't alone. "Listen, there is only one way to get your money back. You have to go with me to Washington tonight, and do something which will get your money back guaranteed. You own stock, and you'll be going to a Stockholders meeting. Micheal, I trust you, and I know what we can do.

Get your stuff packed, and I'll meet you in front of the hotel in a few minutes. I'll explain on the way."

[Oblivionz]

Aha, I knew there would be some sort of twist that would screw him over.

Great writing, Vive. I like the way your story it turning out, and your writing style is pretty good.

[Coral_City]

Ahh -- the twist, I never saw that one coming! I'll be damned.

 

Again, a nice little short chapter that is progressing the story very well!

[Vive La France]

Chapter 4

 

Micheal left the Marina palace with his laptop bag, and found the limo with Stephen waiting outside. Stephen showed Micheal to the limo and Micheal sat inside.

"Open your laptop and connect to my wifi network in the car" Stephen said as he climbed in after Micheal and closed the door. The limo began moving, and Micheal got his laptop out and connected to the network.

"Get to your email," Stephen ordered as the car sped down Leblon and into Cobacabana Boulevard. Micheal opened the Email application.

"OK, there is an email sent to all staff from the CEO regarding the closing of the Montreal Branch. Read that, and you'll see that there is an extra man named Gunther Pleasant. Pleasant is the main man in charge of this operation of selling out the company to the highest bidder," Stephen explained.

"Who's the highest bidder?" Micheal asked as the car turned on the road to the airport.

"You are, Micheal. I'm ready to bet my life on this. I have the funds, Micheal, and I'm prepared to give them to you. All I need from you is to sign a contract and conduct a money transfer from my Swiss bank account," Stephen said.

"My friends and I have been trying to buy Springco for years. But now that you came along, you'll be the poster child. We'll buy the most stock in your new company, and We'll then merge with the small local companies around. We'll have expertise, and devise a new device which your company has been making for two years now, but discussion is kept to the board room and the lab among about 10 people."

 

Stephen kept telling Micheal this unbelievable information about his company. The betrayal! His pension! It was all gone! Understandably, Micheal was half in a state of shock. The car rolled on to the tarmac and Stephen exited.

"We're going to DC, and we'll be at Dulles around 2 AM, DC time. The meeting is tomorrow, so we better get ready," Stephen said and pointed to a plane on the tarmac. "That's my girl," he said. Micheal stepped out of the car, and took his laptop. He stared at the plane, and then at Stephen who was smiling. Micheal was trusting a man he met in a bar, and knew nothing about. But he'd taken bigger risks before, and they turned out fine. With a last smell of the musty and moist Rio air, Micheal climbed up the stairs and into the main cabin. Stephen climbed in after him, and had the pilot close the door. Micheal was stunned as soon as he saw the interior. It looked like a living room, with expensive couches and tables. Micheal saw the couches had power plugs and seat belts, and the tables were nailed to the floor.

"Go ahead," said Stephen. Micheal sat down in a couch facing aft, the first time he'd ever sat like that in a plane. He put his Macintosh on the table, plugged it in, and signed on to the plane wifi network. Stephen sat down next to him.

"This Gunther guy, who is he?" Micheal asked.

"Gunther Pleasant, one of the most unpleasant men I've ever met, worked as a director for a French computer company before it closed down. He was found to be the best man that Springco could find to do this stunt, as he had friends all over Europe. Miller put him in charge of this operation because he was doing illegal activities for him in Europe. Miller trusted him, and made him do this to you," said Stephen. Micheal googled the name, and sure enough his biography and picture came up on Wikipedia.

 

Gunther K. Pleasant (born 27 June 1959) is a European entrepreneur, software executive, and past chairman of defunct company ParisTech.

 

One sentence. Not much use, but the picture was interesting. Micheal went to his webpage, which said "coming September 2002". Not much use there. And with a jolt, he felt the plane move on to the runway, and a few seconds later, the plane was taking off.

[Coral_City]

Hmm... good chapter. However, I felt there was no real "progression" from chapter 3 to 4...I mean, Michael may have gotten onto the plane and out more information, but it could've just been placed within the previous chapter. That's just my opinion Anyhow, it was nothing big, definitely strong writing here as the plot unravels...

 

Keep it up, as always!

[Love.Life]

that is all i have to say

 

pure class thats all i ahve to say as well lol

[Vive La France]

that is all i have to say

 

pure class thats all i ahve to say as well lol

Thank you! Chapter Five is coming soon...

 

[Chickstick]

Only read through the prologue so far, but it's some good stuff. I'll comment on the other chapters when you next update.

 

Oh, and by the way, you've got Vercetti21 on your respect list twice.

[Vercetti21]

^ Come on man, your not feelin' the extra love?

 

I haven't fully caught up yet, but from what I read it's a great story so far, going along nicely.

Edited January 12, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Vive La France]

Chapter 5

 

About twenty minutes later, Stephen began speaking to Micheal.

"I have a suit for you to put on for the meeting tomorrow," he said.

"What kind?"

"It's an expensive three piece."

"Nice," Micheal said. He looked at his laptop where he was playing Tetris, and had a score of no defeat for twenty minutes and 60,000 points. He then looked down at the rainforest below him, and smiled. The two days he spent in Rio were great, but what was next? If Stephen's plan worked, he would be the CEO and he could fire everyone he hated and have money. But if he failed, the company would know he was on to them, and he would probably be living under a bridge. And he wasn't even sure he was supposed to trust Stephen. And with that, he sank into his seat and closed his eyes.

 

He woke up, and it was dark. The plane was at the private terminal of Dulles Airport. Micheal slowly opened his eyes and saw that Stephen was reading. The door opened, and Micheal stood up and felt the American air. He stretched his legs, and Stephen stood up. "Welcome to DC," he said.

 

The two entered the limo waiting for them at the base of the plane. Micheal sat in the dark chairs and looked at the dark sky. Arlington was an interesting city.

"So, where are we staying?"

"Well, we'll be staying at the seasons on Pennsylvania avenue," he said. Micheal stared. The seasons was the most expensive hotel in DC. It shared the same street as the White House, and was only a few feet away. Micheal smiled and watched as they connected onto the highway and went off.

 

About ten minutes later, the car was going over Arlington Memorial Bridge. Micheal watched the illuminated Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, and the capitol from afar. They passed the Iwo Jima memorial a few seconds before. They connected onto Constitution Avenue and drove past the White House. And now began the real problem- finding the way to the hotel. Random roads in Washington closed all the time, and the Limo Driver who was a Maryland native knew the way well. Stephen looked at the Jefferson Memorial over the Tidal Basin, and said "The author of the constitution had no idea anything like this could happen," he said. Micheal stared at the capitol, and then saw the turn down Pennsylvania avenue around the Hoover Building and the National Archives. Micheal looked as they drove past the North Facade of the White House. And then, came the Seasons. The limo stopped, and Stephen stepped out.

"Welcome to the finest hotel in DC." Stephen said. Micheal stepped out and smiled. This was the life.

 

[Oblivionz]

Great chapter, keep updating regularly now though.

[Chickstick]

Finally caught up, and all I can say really is that this is pretty good.

 

Looking forward to your next update.

[Oxidizer]

This is fast becoming another of my favorites on here, and I've only read the prologue so far.

 

Once I catch up with the rest I'll be genuinely hyped to see another chapter coming from you.

 

Excellent job.

[Vive La France]

Chapter 6

 

Micheal's loud alarm clock woke him up at 6:00 local time. He groaned and turned it off, and sat up. The sky was still dark, and Micheal watched the shadows of early commuters on the walls. He turned on a lamp and stood up. He changed his clothes, and took out the suit that Stephen gave him. He looked at it. It was a three piece, probably from a special tailor as it had no label. He put on the dark pants and felt them fit perfectly. He buttoned up his shirt, and put on the vest. Micheal tied the black tie, and straightened it. Then he put on the vest, and walked over to the mirror. Looking good, but he needed to comb his hair. Finally, Micheal decided to part it and combed it. Very professional, he thought as he brushed his teeth and tied his shoes. He packed up his laptop and took it in his bag. Micheal opened the door of the hotel room, and exited into the hallway where Stephen was speaking quietly with the limo driver. Micheal closed the door and waited for Stephen to finish talking. Then, he asked "are we going?"

"Yes, Micheal. We'll be eating at a place called TNR Cafe in Arlington. It's a great Chinese place," he said. Micheal nodded and the three men walked quietly down the hallway, towards the elevator.

 

The sun was finally coming out as Micheal entered the limo, and Stephen followed suit. The driver closed the door, and Stephen looked at Micheal.

"Big day, eh?"

"Yeah... huge," Micheal said shakily.

"Nervous?" Stephen asked.

"Yeah, a bit," Micheal replied.

"Don't lie, Micheal. I have eyes. I know that you don't completely trust me, and that you probably are scared to death that I'll double cross you. I understand that. We only met yesterday, and that was at a bar. Micheal, I met you by chance and I am going to help you, OK?"

"Thank you," Micheal said a little more calmly now. The limo left the hotel and began moving down Pennsylvania Avenue. Micheal saw the sun coming up against the Washington Monument and watched the reddish glow over the city. Stephen was reading the morning edition of the Washington Post, and some elevator music was playing.

"I pay for satellite radio, and all I listen to is some damn elevator music," Stephen joked. Micheal smiled, and looked over as they crossed onto Constitution Avenue. The car turned towards Arlington, and they were off.

 

After a delicious breakfast in the Chinese noodle bar, Micheal was outside the corporate headquarters of Springco. He stared at the door, and watched the stockholders enter the building. From a distance, he saw Greg Miller speaking to Gunther Pleasant, and on the other side were what looked like Stephens stockholder friends.

"Are those..." he began asking Stephen.

"Yes. The most powerful stockholders in the company," Stephen finished. Micheal watched, and Stephen began entering. Micheal stood at the door, and Stephen looked at him. "Are you coming?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," Micheal answered. He entered the corporate headquarters, and found himself in the Atrium where he was one year ago at the company convention. He looked at the receptionist, who looked genuinely worried. Everyone in the building knew. It was obvious that they were about to be fired. Stephen strode into the elevator, and Micheal followed him. The doors closed, and the elevator rose up two floors. When the doors opened, Micheal saw a crowd of men in suits around a reception. The two men strode into the room, and into the sea of heads.

[Chickstick]

Another great chapter.

 

I'm enjoying this.

[Vive La France]

Chapter 7

 

"Micheal?" said a familiar voice. He turned and saw Greg Miller with Gunther Pleasant looking at him. "I didn't expect to see you here..." he said.

"Well, I am a stockholder after all," he said. "And I'm looking forward to seeing my new friends on the board of directors..." he began to say. Miller looked disoriented. "What?" he barked.

"Well, after all, the new board of directors gets elected today. And then they choose the new CEO, right?" said Micheal. "And I know you're retiring and your friend Gunther here is planning to be cheated into the Chief Executive Officer position..."

"How the hell do you know this?" Miller spoke quietly. Stephen walked up to him and said "This is how he knows..." he said. Miller stared at Stephen's tall profile, and almost took a step back.

"Hunter, how the hell do you explain this?" Miller said in a concerned tone.

"Well, simply the fact your criminal record costs the employees of this company their life savings. Miller, I intend to take over this company. You and your friend Gunther are going to have a very, very rough time," Stephen said. Gunther stepped forward.

"Greg told me about you. About the way that you and your snot nosed friends nearly ran us out of business. You're never going to win this. You're dead!" he said in a dark tone, and turned around and left. Greg gave the two a smug look and left. They looked at each other, and then around.

"Do you think he meant that?" Micheal said. Stephen looked concerned.

"Well, he did have mob ties..." Stephen slowly said. Micheal's eyes opened wide.

"Are you saying we could have the Mafia onto us now?"

"In a way, yes," Stephen said. Obviously he believed in saying the bad news first. Then Micheal looked over into the crowd, and saw Fred Henderson, his old boss. Micheal shook his head, and then heard an announcement over the microphone. The current head of the board of directors was standing on a podium.

"Please take your seats. The elections for the board of directors will be happening in a few minutes," he said. Micheal and Stephen steered over to a table and sat down, where there were small little ballots.

"Old school, eh?" Micheal scoffed, looking at the paper. Stephen smiled and took a drink of water. So, which ones are your friends?" said Micheal.

"Well, there are five of the ten elected positions available. The ones that are on the ballot will be voted in by us and the forty others. I paid off several small time workers at the company to vote for them as well, as they are stockholders after all. The other candidates are really nothing to worry about. It will be easy as pie," said Stephen.

"Good, good," Micheal said nervously. He looked around the room cautiously, and said "Do you really think that Mafioso could be here?" Micheal asked Stephen.

"If they are, they won't get to us. I have four guys following us. Even you didn't notice them, so that means the Mafioso probably won't. They have Desert Eagles, Micheal. I'm not to worried," Stephen replied. Micheal looked around, and sure enough, there were four men standing about ten feet away. They were staring at Stephen and Micheal, and one gave a thumbs up. Micheal responded with a weak smile and turned back to the table.

"Please, the voting will start now. The new board of directors will be announced tonight at 9 Eastern Time. They will confer over the candidates to become the new Chief Executive Officer, and tomorrow the winner shall be declared. Please vote now," said the head. Micheal checked five of Stephens friends in the boxes, wrote his stockholder ID number at the top, and put it in the ballot box. It was all in god's hands now.

[Coral_City]

I'm all caught up -- fantastic chapters, all of them. It's gonna be very cool to see how everything goes down, and the mafioso shadow is another added twist to the mix.

 

Keep it up

[Vive La France]

Chapter 8

 

Micheal and Stephen walked down the Arlington Memorial Bridge later that night, enjoying the scenery. Micheal looked at the planes coming into Regan National above him, and the view ahead of him was stunning. The National Mall was lit in the dark, with the Washington Monument shining out and the US Capitol in the back. Stephen was immersed in his Palm Treo, checking for the results of the elections for the board. Micheal looked over the bridge, and saw a police speedboat coming around Theodore Roosevelt Island, and watched it continue down the Potomac, until it turned around at the Tidal Basin and went towards Georgetown and Foggy Bottom. Micheal looked behind him at the view of the Iwo Jima Memorial and the Pentagon, and saw a black car slowing down behind him. Then, all of a sudden there was a loud bang and a bright white flash, and Micheal felt his face collide with a blunt object, and he felt himself lifted off the ground by two men and thrown into what seemed like a trunk.

 

Micheal opened his eyes, and looked around. It seemed as if he blacked out, and woke up. The surroundings were of a warehouse, and Micheal felt the atmosphere was more different. It felt a bit less moist, and hotter. He looked around, and saw no one in sight. It was just him tied to a chair, alone, in the large room. He struggled, but couldn't untie the knots binding his limp body to the metal chair. He attempted to stand, but toppled over. And then he saw the object that could save his life. Micheal lunged for a lone nail on the floor with his teeth, and slipped it into his hands. Soon enough, he cut the ropes and stood up. His back ached, but he managed to limp over to the door. He opened the door, and found himself in a parking lot with 10 black BMW 5's parked in horizontal rows. Micheal tried the doors on each car, but they were locked. He then ran over to the gate, and attempted to open it. It wouldn't budge. Micheal climbed over the gate, and found himself in a dense forest. Michael turned around, and saw the logo on the door: "Springco: Bringing the World Together through Zeros and Ones,". f*ck. That wasn't possible. His own company abducting him, trying to keep him from winning the election. Micheal turned around, and began running down the long dirt road leading from the warehouse and looked up. The moon was rising from the east, and it looked like it was going to be another long night. And where the hell was Stephen? Did they take him, or was he dead, or worse? The questions flooded Micheal's mind as he sprinted down the dusty path...

[Oblivionz]

Glad my suggestion made you continue this.

Nice chapter, hope to see it continue now.

[longkissgoodnight]

Very interesting chapter - a little rushed but good.

 

By the way - good to have you back!

[Vive La France]

Chapter 9

 

Micheal slowed down after several minutes, breathing heavily. It was getting colder and colder, and the sky was still clear. Micheal sat on a stump for a few minutes, searching his pockets to find the only thing that the abductors took away from him was his cell phone. His wallet, keys, and reading glasses remained. Micheal stared at the sky and saw Orion was right above him, and saw that the road he was going down was leading directly south according to the night sky. Once he got his bearings, Micheal continued down the road, at a steady pace. He stopped every few minutes to rest, and looked at the sky to check his bearings. The walk carried on for hours and hours. Micheal stopped and looked at what he assumed was east. The sky was lighting up, and the stars were disappearing.

"f*ck, I'm tired," he said to himself. He coughed, and continued down the dusty road. The sky was lighting up even more every minute, and the more the sky lit up the more Micheal cringed from the sunlight. Then all of a sudden, he saw a paved road. Micheal looked up, and saw a sign that said "Brewster, 5 miles". Brewster? Where the hell was he? It was definatly a densely populated area, as there were many cars going on the interstate ahead of him. Micheal frowned as the sun began shining on his dirty suit jacket and unkempt hair. Micheal stuck out his thumb, to signal traffic. It took several minutes, but in the end a black car pulled up next to Micheal. The window slowly rolled down, and Micheal was in shock. Fred Henderson stared at Micheal in his unbuttoned dusty tuxedo.

"I suppose this is a long shot, but, can I get a lift?" Micheal said with a smile. Fred just stared and nodded. Micheal clambered into the passenger seat, and closed the door.

"So, what the hell are you doing?" Fred asked after a long awkward silence.

"Well, someone grabbed me from a bridge over the Potomac and shoved me in a warehouse about 10 miles down that dirt road. I ran, but I still have no idea where the hell I am and what is happening,"

"Well, you're on Interstate 84, about half an hour away from Manhattan," Fred replied. "Didn't I just see you yesterday in that suit, with some other guy?"

"I dunno what happened to him. He wasn't in the same room where I was, and I wasn't about to go looking. By the way, the warehouse is owned by Springco..."

"Yep, that is the Brewster, New York plant. How the hell did you get there though?"

"I dunno, I think there was a flash and then I woke up in this warehouse..."

"Wait, was it on the Arlington Memorial Bridge?"

"Yes, why?"

"I heard a newscast a couple minutes ago about the police chasing a black car that sped away after it dropped some sort of flashbang on that bridge. They had it on security tapes..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they do,"

"Hmm. That reminds me, why the f*ck are you even in upstate New York?"

"I drove up from DC yesterday to go talk to some guys at an office in Manhattan,"

"Can you just drop me off in Hells Kitchen?" Micheal asked.

"That won't be a problem, Micheal. Even though I still hate your guts, I feel obliged to help you here," Fred said with a grin and the car sped off.

 

[Vive La France]

Chapter 10

 

Micheal stepped out of Fred's car, and shook his hand and thanked. The car drove away, and Micheal looked at what was in front of him- Wall Street. It was the stock exchange, and he was gonna change this. Micheal walked down the street in between the businessmen in his ripped suit and unkempt hair, dirty pants and shirt, and sloppily tied tie. They stared at him as he walked down. He walked up front to the security checkpoint, and saw a stubborn man looking at him.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Inside," he said as he removed his suitjacket.

"Ain't no one getting in here. You gotta have a card to get in," he said.

"It was stolen," Micheal lied.

"Have a high up company personel with you?"

"He was stolen too," Micheal said, and he regretted saying it. The NYPD officer looked at him, called over his friend, and then his friend dragged him into a black car.

"I have my f*cking rights!" Micheal said as the doors closed. "Where the f*ck am I going?"

"You'll see," said a voice from up front.

"Listen to me, motherf*cker, I've been awake for well over twenty something hours by now. My legs are sore, I have cuts all over me, and I just escaped from a warehouse where I was locked up,"

"Yes, I know. I took you there," said the voice. Then, Micheal heard a second voice.

"How ya doing, Mike? Doing well?" said the voice of Gunther Pleasant. Micheal groaned.

"f*ck, so this is..."

"The mob, yes," said Pleasant.

"Where is Stephen?"

"He's still in the warehouse, inquiring about you," Pleasant responded.

"Who got elected on the board?"

"Well, the vote was of course fixed, but you and your friends won, morally speaking,"

"f*ck you," said Micheal and spit on the glass separating the two. He moved to the door, and tried opening it. No handle. He then looked down, and saw nothing on the floor that could help him. Unless... Micheal took off his steel toed shoe, and aimed the toe at the window. It was thick glass, but the shoe would break it.

"f*cker is escaping!" said the driver, and swerved. Micheal hit the window and saw a crack. He put the shoe back on, and kicked the window twice. The glass was held together by fragments, and Micheal then punched it. The window broke, and Micheal leaned out, and felt the G-Forces kick in as the driver did a doughnut. Micheal put one foot out, and then the other on the remains of the window. He held on for his life by the siren on the roof, and swung both legs out. He was on the roof of the car, and they were pulling up to a patch of green. Micheal took a deep breath, and rolled. He landed softly on the patch of green, and rolled on to the sidewalk. He stood up, brushed himself off, and began running. The car turned, and Micheal was trapped. The car drove behind him at full speed, and Micheal jumped to the right. The car did a 180 and turned back on course, and Micheal ran forward. There was a subway station. Yes! Micheal ran at his fullest potential, and jumped down the stairs face first, landing in a somersault. The car braked abruptly, and Pleasant jumped out carrying a Desert Eagle. sh*t. What to do? Micheal jumped down the further stairs, and found himself on the platform. Gunshots sounded through the halls. People were screaming, and Micheal saw that a train was leaving. It was now or never...

[longkissgoodnight]

Just got the chance to catch up on this - I been busy lately so I haven't had the chance to read it (I have been working on my own story) . It sounds good so far - keep going.

[Vive La France]

Just got the chance to catch up on this - I been busy lately so I haven't had the chance to read it (I have been working on my own story) . It sounds good so far - keep going.

Thanks!