‘Sure.’ Alan scrawled his signature on the courier’s electronic pad and collected the package. He opened it to reveal a CD and a ninety-four-page manual.
‘Good grief!’ The manual was pure business technobabble! It even included mathematical formulae! Had Warner written all this in just the last few hours – and set-up The Rare-Earth Trading Company (RETC)?? Well, apparently she had, and now she was expecting Alan to do his part! There was a scribbled covering note: “Load the CD and follow the set-up instructions. Make sure you understand Chapter 2, you will need to explain this in layman’s terms to the PM at 5pm. Gavin will pick you up at 4.30!”
That gave him just over an hour of study time. Crap! Chapter 2, entitled: Vacant Portals, was thirty-three pages long! Alan skimmed through it. The gist seemed to be that there were five secret access points to RETC: one for Alan, one for Warner, one for the PM – and two spares. These would allow the users to buy and sell rare earths on the international commodities markets without: a/ being noticed and b/ driving the prices down if the market for a particular element became over-sold. So not only was it utilizing the markets, it was also hiding from them and distorting them as well. Warner was a piece of work!
Alan checked the other chapter headings: mainly corporate governance; embedding the structure within GFS; secret bank accounts; Cayman Island holding companies etc etc. Sooner or later he’d have to understand all that as well. There was also a chapter entitled: China. That nation currently enjoyed a virtual monopoly in some rare earth mining and so would not take kindly to being pushed aside, even if it had no idea how that was happening; dealing with them would require special treatment, including a few “fried brains”. Hmm. He loaded the CD and viewed his screen as various installation wizards did their thing. Ah! Finished! That was remarkably quick and glitch-free!
He began to study chapter 2...
4.20. Alan closed the manual and rubbed his eyes. He’d managed to install his “portal” and even test it with a couple of dummy transactions: all seemed well, but now he’d have to describe this to the PM and that would be more challenging since he still did not truly understand the tangled and labyrinthine processes involved – and the PM surely wouldn’t either. It was unlikely, for example, that he’d be able to answer any questions the PM might raise. He was banking on Warner’s headphones doing some of the work for him, but he’d also need to keep this manual to hand as well.
He placed the manual in an attaché case and the CD in his lower drawer which he then locked, despite Warner’s assurances that neither the CD nor the material now on his computer constituted any kind of security risk. He’d take her word for that, naturally, but it was still disconcerting to have this powerful software at his disposal – and it wasn’t even protected by any passwords or encryptions. His own firewall had ignored it. Anti-virus software also failed to acknowledge its presence. “Hidden in plain sight”, was all Warner offered by way of explanation.
Alan stood and put on his jacket.
‘Going somewhere?’
It was Jim Fairclough, standing by his door.
‘Hi Jim, I have an appointment with Helen Warner at 5pm,’ replied Alan.
‘Another one? You two have been as thick as thieves lately. So what does our esteemed owner want that requires so much of your time?’
‘It’s a complex financial deal that she’s putting together, difficult to explain.’
‘Try me,’ replied Fairclough.
Alan grimaced. His next meeting with Warner would have to address the issue of Jim Bloody Fairclough! Considering the issues at stake, and the promise of running GFS, it was becoming ridiculous that he continued to feel the need to obfuscate and dance around his boss like this! The trouble was that he actually felt slightly sorry for Fairclough. He’d never experienced proper human empathy before, just the manipulative, knowledge-based empathy the Sponsors had equipped him with. But this was different, this was sympathy. Fairclough could, and would, be bounced out of the way soon enough – but he simply didn’t deserve to be treated like this! Fairclough had already demonstrated his competence, both as a financial expert and also as an office manager. The staff had quickly warmed to him and were happily initiating the reorganizations he was beginning to introduce, most of which seemed to be aimed at making the staff happier at work. Bruce would never have done anything like that! Maybe it was time to bring things to a head right now.
‘Jim… I haven’t got much time, Warner’s driver will be picking me up shortly and I can’t afford to delay him, not even for a minute–’
‘Go on!’ urged Fairclough, looking both serious and intimidating.
‘I will be taking over the running of GFS shortly.’
Fairclough was clearly flabbergasted and he shot Alan a very hostile glare. He began to breath heavily, but said nothing.
‘You will be retained as office manager, you seem to be very adept at that,’ added Alan, winging it.
Fairclough remained silent for a few more seconds before replying: ‘I was taken on to run GFS – not be the office clerk! This is totally unacceptable. I feel more inclined to resign, quite frankly!’
‘Whoa! Steady on, Jim! You still will be effectively running GFS, but under me. And you can take over most of my client roster as well and add to it as you see fit. Perhaps by poaching some of the clients from your previous employer, the merchant bank.’
Fairclough looked thunderous and Alan wondered if he was about to get punched. ‘So, more work and a lower status. What about my salary!?’
‘That will remain the same. We can negotiate bonuses etc.’
‘And Ms. Warner has approved this?’
‘Of course,’ Alan lied. This was getting horribly out of hand: he’d just offered a guy that was due to be fired both his job back and much of Alan’s – and the same salary. Jesus! Warner would have a cow over this!
Fairclough began to mull this over as Alan’s office phone rang.
‘Yes?’
‘There’s a Gavin Sturgess at reception.’
‘I’ll be right there!’ replied Alan. ‘I have to go, we’ll go over the details of this tomorrow.’
‘Yes, we will,’ replied Fairclough. Alan offered his hand and after a short but agonising delay, Fairclough grabbed it. He almost broke Alan’s fingers.
Alan sat glumly in the back of Warner’s car and reflected on his first experience of man-management. He sucked at it! Luckily Gavin wasn’t the sort to make annoying small-talk. The entire journey proceeded in silence.
‘You what!?’
‘I don’t see why this is an issue! Fairclough is good with the staff; he’s introducing efficiencies to the office; and he can take over the other clients! I can’t do all that and this shit as well!’
‘It was not your call to make, Alan! Did it not occur to you that I have plans for the reorganization of GFS!?’
‘Yes, making me boss and–’
‘No! you were going to be the office manager and I the boss! GFS will be the linchpin of our entire operation and we can’t have an idiot like Fairclough in the middle of it.’
Alan felt humiliated, and worried. ‘What are we going to do then?’
‘We!? …You are going to fire him first thing tomorrow!’
‘But–’
‘No buts! Have you studied chapter two of the RETC document?’
Alan sighed. ‘I have.’
‘Well that’s something, I suppose,’ Warner checked the time. ‘You’re on in six.’