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  It was pass midnight when Director Green came in the room next to the interrogation booth within the Los Angeles FBI Building along Wilshire Boulevard. He was tired and had hardly slept the last three days. He briefly watched Dr. Dawson being interrogated by Agent Mark Triska through the one-way mirror.

  Informed of Director Green’s presence, Mark emerged out of the interrogation room and reported to Director Green. He said, “Dawson won’t talk.”

  “Got anything on the woman?” Green asked.

  “He said she was a prostitute making a proposition.”

  “And the manual he got from her?”

  “He says it's his, but he's lying. He couldn’t tell what was written on the later pages.”

  “What's on the manual?”

  “He would not elaborate further than it's his personal work and very confidential.”

  “Get the photos of the woman circulated.”

  “We know who she is and is now under surveillance.”

  “Good. I’m bringing Dr. Dawson to Washington tomorrow and get NARLAB Director Cutler to look at the documents. Follow through with your leads,” Director Green instructed and left.

  NEVER THOUGHT I COULD

 

  It was seven in the morning the following day when Rosenthal woke. He found JP slouched on his bed asleep. JP’s head and part of his upper body were on top of the bed while his left hand over Rosenthal’s right arm. Rosenthal resisted moving lest it woke JP. He looked at his facial features. JP had his eyebrows, nose, but her mother’s lips, he thought.

  Rosenthal had no religion and did not recall ever praying but this time, he did, and fervently. He prayed for things to change for the better between JP and him, and vowed to devote part of his time to serve God if God would grant only one wish---have JP forgive and treat him as a father.

  “Are you all right, Sir?” JP said with concern soon after he woke.

  “What happened?”

  “You had a stroke.”

  “Oh yes,” he paused then said, “I honestly don’t know how to make it up to you, John Paul.” He went straight to the point.

  “There is nothing to make up for, Sir. Juaning confessed and explained everything,” JP said as he smiled.

  “Juaning did?” he was utterly surprised. He knew she scorned him.

  “Yes”

  “No questions?” he asked, looking into JP’s eyes.

  “No questions,” JP answered with a wide beam and tapped his father's arm.

  “Can we leave the past where it belongs and look forward?”

  “Yes. It's the future that's important.”

  Rosenthal was so pleased on hearing JP’s words and remembered his vow and said to himself as though he was talking directly to God, ‘I will honor my vow. I will devote time to serve You through Your children but pray You guide me as I am new at this,’ then said, “John Paul, I want you to head my Robotics Division, and later, the business. I am too old for it.”

  “Sir, if . . .”

  “I somehow recall your calling me, ‘Dad’. Was I dreaming?”

  JP grinned, “Not a dream. Said it many times last night,” he assured. “Dad, if it's all right with you . . . I'd like to make something out of my business and prove something to myself before I consider your offer.”

  “I understand. How's your business?”

  “We’re floating but there's this contract we're trying to get. If we get it, the company will have a very good chance of making it. I think the opportunity is just around the corner and I'd like to know if I can make it without . . .”

  “Your getting help from me,” Rosenthal interjected. “I would not do that even if I could. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  “And the printer sales we got from your subsidiaries?” JP asked as it bothered him.

  “I have no intention of robbing you of your glory or failure. Business is business. Moreover, you will learn more from failures than if you were to easily succeed. As for the printers, you never got any special privilege. However, I did, discretely, ask procurement to evaluate your products and to include your company in future biddings if, and only if,” he stressed, “it passes company criteria. Buy-decisions are based on merits. I’d fire anyone who violates it. You won that sale fairly. I have the product evaluation reports. You can see them, if you wish.” He paused then asked, “May I know what this contract is?”

  “It's a military contract for a high-speed mobile robot.”

  “Oh, yes. That is what my Robotic Division is working on. Got the speed?”

  “92% of it,” JP said somewhat uneasy.

  “Knowing what my Robotic Division had accomplished, that is indeed very, very impressive. The military takes a long time to award contracts. How are you doing financially?” Rosenthal asked in a businesslike manner.

  “Breakeven at best.”

  “That’s not exactly bad considering where the economy is at. If a company offered you twenty million over your current assets plus 10% outright shares, and hired you and your partner to manage operations, would you take it?” Rosenthal offered in a businesslike manner.

  “I guess we would. That's very generous.”

  “Then, if you were someone else, I would have bought your company. In return, my company gets billions. That is how I got this company so big. I knew what the military needed and who had it. However, those who had it never realized what they had and I took advantage of that.

  “Once your claim is proven, my competitors will come and try to buy you out or get you in with them. They will make an offer, much greater than the deal I offered. Can you hold out for at least a year?”

  “If the printer market doesn't pick up, I don't think we can for that long,” JP answered. “We’re running out of capital and heavy in debt. We’ve channeled all our money to get the military contract.”

  “No money? You are worth over $600 million in stocks.”

  “That much?” JP said, in disbelief.

  “I see you don't even know. All the time I thought you just did not want any part of the money out of spite. The stocks . . .”

  Before Rosenthal could explain, a knock then the door opened. Juaning, in a white private nurse’s uniform, entered the room with a basket of fruits and flowers. “You look better, George,” Juaning said, smiling as she placed the fruit basket and flowers on a small table by the side of Rosenthal’s bed then went by the bedside opposite JP. “I did not sleep all night praying for you.”

  “You stayed all night?”

  “Yes. JP, Katie, and me,” Juaning said.

  Surprised, he asked, “Katherine Davis?”

  “Yes, she went home to freshen up and will be back. Have you and JP talked?”

  “Including business,” he said as he beamed at JP.

  “You two are the same,” Juaning said. “You think of nothing but work.” She turned to JP and instructed, “JP, you're hungry. Go have your breakfast. That will give me time to talk to your father in private.”

  “Okay,” JP said and left the room.

  When JP left the room, Juaning said, “George, I have done you great injustice. I . . .”

  Rosenthal interrupted, “JP explained. It's in the past. Let's forget it.”

  “I have to speak it out, please,” Juaning begged.

  “Only if it will make you feel better.”

  “It will. I have to confess . . .” and at the end said, “Will you forgive me?”

  “I am just as guilty as you. Let’s start anew, okay?”

  “Okay,” Juaning answered smiling.

  Curiously, he asked, “Tell me, does JP have a girlfriend?” For the past two years, he yearned of having grandchildren, and daydreamed playing with them lately.

  “He never had but I know he’s madly in love with someone staying with me and working at his company. A very, very sweet and a wonderful woman. I know you will like her. Luningning Spence is her name, Lulu for short and . . .” Juaning gave Rosenthal a good
idea who Lulu was.

  “Does she know I am John Paul's father?” Rosenthal asked inquisitively. He was a suspicious person by nature and the industrial rat race he lived in showed him repeatedly what people would do for money, more so, if they knew he was the sole heir to a five trillion-dollar industrial empire. Moreover, if the Russians knew his relationship with JP, he would be a good target to infiltrate his organization directly or indirectly. Lulu was too good to be true. She could easily be a Russian spy, a sleeper. He planned to have her investigated as a precaution.

  “I'm certain she knows nothing,” she answered. “I have pills for you to take,” as she got and held on to them with a glass of water in her other hand.

  “Don't like them,” Rosenthal smirked together with a hand gesture.

  “George, I told the Doctor I'm your certified nurse and assured him that you will take all your medications. Don’t worry, you can afford me,” she added jokingly as she smiled. She handed his pills and the water, and made sure he swallowed them.

  “You have not changed,” Rosenthal said after swallowing the pills.

  “I have changed a lot and for the better. Thanks to Lulu.”

  “You think so highly of this woman.”

  “Seldom will you find a person so thoughtful, caring, and loving. I know you'll be so proud to have her as a daughter-in-law.”

  “But you said JP has no girlfriend.”

  “That will soon change. Lulu loves him. But, I hate to say this George, JP is very much like you . . . he knows nothing when it comes to women.”

  Rosenthal looked at her and grinned. “Can I meet her?” he asked.

  “The doctor will release you tomorrow early afternoon. You go home; rest; then have dinner with us the following day, Monday. You think you can make it with all your engagements?”

  “Business will just have to wait this time. I will be there,” he firmly said.

  “Good. Dinner then on Monday at seven,” she said. On hearing knocks, she went to the door and opened it. Standing at the door was Katie with flowers and fruits in a basket as well. Juaning got what Katie brought and set them on the table as she said to George, “Katie left hardly an hour ago, rather fast. I think her loyalty and devotion deserves more than a raise George.” She and Katie had a very long woman-to-woman talk last night.

  Katie blushed and could tell Juaning was scheming. Foregoing Juaning’s remark, she said, “How are you feeling, Sir?”

  Juaning interrupted before Rosenthal could answer, “For all the years Katie had served you, George, I think she's entitled to call you by your first name.”

  “Come to think of it, I never heard you call me by my first name,” Rosenthal said.

  Katie smiled. “Well, how are you, Sir?”

  Juaning interrupted again, “It's George, in case you forgot,” as she beamed at her.

  Katie coyly looked at Juaning then Rosenthal, “Well, how are you . . . George?” Katie said then blushed again.

  “I never felt so good and feel so cared. Thank you for staying over last night.”

  “It's really nothing. I hope you're not going to work on Monday.”

  “Why?”

  “You may not have an office.”

  “How badly did I wreck it?”

  “On a scale of ten, I'd say two.”

  “I did not know you had a sense of humor?” he commented with surprise.

  Juaning quipped, “That just proves you weren't paying attention.”

  JP entered the room and joined the conversation. With Juaning's prodding, she got Katie to talk on Rosenthal's eccentricities. Rosenthal laughed and often ending it with ‘I did that?’ He liked hearing what others thought and the names they called him but told Katie not to mention names lest he fired them. At one point, Katie said, “I have never seen you laugh this way.”

  To which Rosenthal replied, “I never thought I could.”