Tunnel Rat Chapter 264 (Patreon)

Turnabout was fair play, so Eric felt no guilt at all about rudely waking John up early when something important was happening. And today was a very important day. He'd already sent John an email, two phone calls, a call on his 'emergency phone that I always answer' and was walking into John's apartment with a pot of coffee after getting no answer. To Eric's way of thinking, if John hadn't meant for Eric to have a master keycard that opened all the doors in Manpower's HQ, he should have had someone else handling security and making the keycards.

"Get up, John, or I'm dragging you and whoever you're sleeping with out of bed and tossing you into a cold shower." There was a half-snore, which turned into a grumble. A feminine voice said, "Screw that. I'm taking the shower, and I don't need help from either of you." After a minute, John appeared, looking poorly, and accepted the cup of coffee from Eric. Eric ordered breakfast and more coffee from the cafeteria. Then he sat in a chair and sipped from his cup of coffee while his boss pulled himself together. Breakfast and the second pot arrived before John could do more than mumble and glare. Myra came out of the bedroom, dressed and groomed with damp hair. She took in a relaxed Eric and John, still in his morning routine, trying to wake up.

"Nice to see you again, Eric. I'll leave you boys to catch up. I have an 8 a.m. meeting to try and get a handle on our marketing." John had tasked marketing to devise a two-week blitz of advertising to highlight Manpower's expansion in the habitat and hopefully raise some outside investment to bridge the gap until Belinda got access to her money and could bail her step-father's company out of high-interest loans. All of that work was worthless now in the changing landscape where they had RHEBUS as new neighbors.

Eric was valuing Myra more these days. He'd assumed that this one would end badly like any other relationship John got into. It hadn't, and as Myra felt more confident, she started flexing her brain instead of other parts of her anatomy. She spent more and more nights with John, and no one bought his excuse of 'brainstorming the next marketing campaign.' But she was getting him to meetings on time and keeping some of his attention focused on the company. Eric had misgivings about John's relationship with someone working for the company, but better a long-term relationship with Myra than a half-dozen different women. She was only average as a marketing director but was proving great at babysitting John. Eric hired two good marketing directors, paid them the same as Myra, and things worked out. He had a flawed set of tools to get the job done but was doing the best with what he had.

"Actually, Myra, I need you to stick around for this meeting. Grab coffee and food, and pull out your data pad. We've got work to do, and you and John have a plane to catch?" Myra started to say something, then shrugged and did as Eric had asked.

That got John's attention. "A plane? Where? Why?"

"Because things have changed again. Not only is RHEBUS moving in, but Claw Master is taking more of the habitat, and the two of them have a joint agreement with the people running GENESIS. They called me this morning and had some interesting things to say. And that means you and Myra will be on a chartered flight to Geneva one hour and thirty minutes from now, along with the rest of the corporation executives and top managers. Everyone we can spare is going."

Myra froze for a moment, then talked quickly. "You got us a deal. I need the details. We have to get ahead of this. Pre-announcements. Hints to 'certain sources'. I need to get people's attention so John can be interviewed about the changes and Manpower's plans."

"Wait...what plans? How do you know what Eric is talking about." John grabbed two Danish, hoping the sugar rush would wake him up. He was terrible in the morning.

Myra was making entries on her pad and sending messages. "I have no idea. Other than it's big, it involves GENESIS, Claw Master, or RHEBUS. There's a large tech gathering in Geneva for the next two weeks, and none of those companies were going. Now they are, and so are we. So I know I need to set up interviews and plan a marketing campaign."

Eric nodded slowly. "Very good, Myra. You'll have the details momentarily. The basics are this: RHEBUS and Claw Master will offer medical services to some of the Contract Workers in the GENESIS game. Those workers are in pods for five years and need storage and care. We have an expanding company doing just that. Manpower doesn't need to worry about the costs of expansion. We'll be doing work in sections of the habitat that the other three corporations fully rehabilitate. Our contract is caring for those workers and their pods. Twenty thousand will undergo medical procedures, with another eighty thousand getting standard care. And we collect a fee on every one of them."

"That's a lot of money." John was awake now.

"Yes, it is, John, which is why you, Myra, and everyone else are heading to Geneva for two weeks of fine dining, late-night planning sessions, and haggling over the fine details of the contracts. You get a power vacation. I'll hold down the fort here. And take care of Belinda."

"Shit. Belinda. Can we take her with us? I'm nervous about leaving her here."

Eric looked at his watch. "Trust me, John, I won't let anything happen to her. I've got some plans in the works that will surprise Victor. Belinda told me she absolutely wasn't going. She hates being on public display, but for the first few days, Victor will think she is with you. If he checks her rooms, he won't find her. She gets her pod back today and plans to be in it for two weeks, playing with her friends. She promised she'd sign all the paperwork before heading to fantasy land. And I need you to sign a few things before heading to the airport. You have one hour and fifteen minutes left."

He pulled out a stack of paperwork; each contract pulled back to the spot he needed to sign. "Myra, get going and rally the troops. Bonus for anyone on time and tickets to the opera. They can shower and buy clothes on their company accounts when they get there. Same with you." Myra left, and Eric handed John a pen.

Six quick signatures later, John was in the shower, and Eric was packing his bags. Four helicopters picked them up from the top of the habitat, whisking them away to the airport and a chartered flight to Europe.

Victor was woken by his bodyguards. "Mr. Eric Kresthammer is here to see you, sir. Urgent. John and most of his staff took off by helicopter only minutes ago. Without the girl or anything large enough to be a pod."

Victor nodded, threw on a smoking jacket and slippers, and met Eric in the next room. "Up early or late? Doesn't matter. But I see you have vodka in your hand; pour me one as well. Someone get us breakfast. Eggs and scrapple today." Victor had discovered Scrapple and liked it. Everyone else who hadn't been born in Pennsylvania was trying to forget about it.

"Now, what is up that has the rats fleeing their ship?"

Eric took eggs and the horrible fried breakfast meat and sat across from Victor, smiling. "Oh, not much. I arranged A medium-sized business deal to take place at the Geneva Tech Conference. John was ecstatic to make the trip and excited about the money I may have hinted at. Of course, such a big deal needed almost everyone to go. The place is a ghost town."

Victor raised an eyebrow in appreciation. Eric thought of the most curious ways to out-think John. Of course, John made it too easy. "So we can leave anytime then."

"I would suggest leaving early and moving forward with the schedule. An interesting situation occurred. Belinda's doctors had plans of their own. They seemed to be chaffing under your leadership and wanted to take all of their research and leave. They also made plans to take Belinda with them and hold her for a trillion dollars in ransom."

Victor surged to his feet, scattering food to the floor. "I will kill them!" His bodyguards tensed, waiting for orders. Eric said calmly. "No, you won't."

Victor stared at Eric, and Eric stared back. Finally, Victor chuckled and laughed. "I won't? Is that because you can't kill someone twice."

Eric spread his hands. "My job is making the sausage now; yours is doing nothing that draws attention. You have to be there for Belinda, all the family she has left. Let's not sully this discussion with details, other than there are some very deep holes underneath this building where things go to be lost."

Victor nodded. "And Belinda?"

Eric poured two vodkas and slid one to Victor. "Belinda got her pod back this morning, and I helped her set things up for a month-long vacation in the game. She's essentially in a coma and won't know anything until you get to where you need to go. I have her pod ready to be shipped to the airport and all your paperwork ready. John also thinks she is in the game. And for some reason, he thinks he's still her guardian. I'm filing the paperwork with a judge as we speak. Talk to your lawyer in Prague."

"You make good sausage, Mr. Eric. And you are right; I don't need to know how you do it." They clinked glasses and downed the vodka.

"When do we leave? And when will I see you?"

Eric poured more of the clear alcohol. "Your plane is ready. Belinda is being transported, as we speak, in a special ambulance. You can leave anytime in the next six hours. A helicopter waits on the roof, and a chartered plane is at the airport. Officials have been taken care of. As for me, I will play out the charade here, reporting to John for the next two weeks, then heading to my new house in Prague for a few days off, where a lovely young woman will be helping me learn Russian and other things. I'll meet you and Belinda when you are ready to wake her up. I'm looking forward to a few days off and a better standard of living."

Victor chuckled again. "And a lovely young teacher of Russian. I approve. I will see you in Prague. I am off to the airport. The sooner I am out of this country, the better." He clapped Eric on the shoulder as he left. Eric waited a moment, then poured another shot of vodka, thinking about his plans for the future.