The meeting was even more boring than usual. The head of marketing had taken up most of the time describing the advertising campaign for a new kitchen gadget that would revolutionize the way meals were cooked. Mardi couldn't have cared less on a good day, but today her thoughts were just to full of other important details to give even the impression of interest. Once the conference concluded, she was gathering her belongings to return to her office when the greasy little weasel she recognized as Derek Powers' personal assistant approached her with a completely insincere smile and said that her presence was requested in the great man's sanctuary, immediately.
She entered the large office at the top floor of the building a little apprehensively. After everything that had happened in the last 18 hours, this couldn't possible be a coincidence.
"Mardi," he greeted her warmly from behind his desk. "Please come in and have a seat." She did, crossing one leg over the other and clasping her hands over her knee. "Now I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here," he said with a smile and then Derek Powers stood from his chair and walked around the desk slowly with his hands behind his back. "Are you familiar with the works of William Shakespeare?" he asked out of the blue as he perched on the edge of the desk in front of her.
Baffled, she replied, "Yes, of course."
He nodded approvingly. "The Bard's words are quite beautiful aren't they?" Before she could even answer he continued on. "One of the most interesting things he had to say concerned names. Perhaps you'll recall the scene in question. Will postulates that names have no true relevance, that, in his words, by any other name a rose would still smell as sweet, or perhaps in some cases the better analogy would be that the thorn would still prick as sharply. What do you think about that Mardi?" he asked with a feral smile.
"I'm afraid I don't have an opinion on the matter, sir," she replied warily, sensing that this was leading someplace bad.
"Too bad. I, however, do have an opinion. As brilliant as he was, Shakespeare was quite full of it on this respect. You see names do have a great deal of importance in this world. Well, take yours for instance." He held his hand out to her. "Purcell. Hmm, simple, nothing that really catches your attention. Maybe you could use a different name. How about…Wayne? Now there's a name with impact. It just says something to me, what about you?" He sat back to watch her reaction.
"This is way you called me in here, Mr. Powers, to ask me about my husband? Then for crying out loud, get on with it and stop playing these silly games."
His face immediately hardened. "I don't like it when my employees lie to me."
"I've never denied being married. Many women keep their surnames in business, it's not an uncommon practice." She stood up. "Yes I am married to Bruce Wayne. If you're concerned you didn't get us a wedding gift, then by all means, consider yourself absolved. Now if you don't mind, I've had a very…interesting…day, and I'd like to get on with the rest of it."
"Sit down!" he bellowed. "We are most certainly not finished here." She did as she was told, but her patience was running paper-thin. "Wayne happens to be a major shareholder of this company. Don't you think your relationship is a conflict of interest?"
"Not at all. I am not an officer of the company; I am simply an employee. And we do not even discuss business matters at home." She rose once more to her feet. "Unless you provide legislation saying otherwise, our relationship is perfectly legal, and frankly none of your business."
"I'm going to tell you one last time to sit down. You are not dismissed until I say you are dismissed." Mardi was about to tell him where to stick his dismissal, but stopped with the words on her lips. It was not the risk of unemployment that held her tongue, but what Terry had said: 'Powers a very dangerous man.' So she sat and waited. He returned to the other side of the desk and sat facing her. "I have a little problem Mardi. There is a factory in Eastern Europe I want to buy that manufactures weapons, explosives, whatnot. The current owners can't seem to come up with enough capital to keep in afloat. I, on the other hand, am in the perfect position to make this factory a very profitable venture, and I've orchestrated a contract with the military that would sweeten the pot even more. This is a deal worth billions to me Mardi. Certainly you can see that? But there is one problem, one wrench in the works, you see. Do you know what that is?"
Yes she knew. She knew that Bruce had called an emergency stockholders meeting earlier in the week to rally them into defeating this proposal. While they shied away from discussing such matters in regular conversation, some things were bound to come out. "He doesn't like guns. His parents were murdered," she said calmly.
Powers waved away her response as he would a gnat. "Yes, I know all about that little quirk of his. What I need from you is to convince him to get over it. This is going to make us all a lot of money. I'm sure you have the means to change his mind." He winked at her. "All women have their ways of getting what they want, even if it means a cold bed for a night or two."
She glared at the perverted son of a bitch. "I just got through telling you we did not mix business with our personal life. Even if I did have my ways I wouldn't do it. It's his decision to make."
"That is unfortunate," he frowned. "But I see that there is no talking you into it, so I'll just leave you with one other unrelated matter." He picked up a small data disk. "It seems in the last fourteen months a considerable amount of money has been cleverly siphoned out of the company on a weekly basis. All together, about 25 million dollars." Tapping the disk with a finger he finished, "All the proof is on here. The guilty party has been caught red-handed."
"That's impossible. I go over all the financial reports with a fine-tooth-comb on a quarterly basis. There is absolutely no way that kind of money could have gotten out without my knowledge." He smirked at her and continued tapping the disk. "Oh god, you wouldn't dare," she whispered feeling the bottom drop out of her world.
"Tsk, tsk. Embezzlement may only be a white-collar crime, but with this kind money, I'd say you wouldn't get less than fifteen years. Maybe they'd give you time off with good behavior."
She closed her eyes, unable to contemplate someone being so thoroughly ruthless. "What do you want?" she said quietly.
"I've already told you what I want. Once that factory is mine, this disk goes into a nice dark place where it will never be seen, but where I will always have access. Do you understand?" She opened her eyes and nodded. "Good. Now you are dismissed."
It was much too early in the afternoon for her to be home, but she was in the library lying on the couch. She'd kicked off her shoes and they were scattered on the ground next to her blazer that had been casually dropped. A glass of bourbon was resting on her stomach held loosely in her left hand while her right arm was slung over her eyes as if to ward off the world. Ace padded quietly over and stuck his nose in her ear. "Get away from me dog," she slurred slightly, not moving a muscle.
"Ace," he called and the hound moved over to a corner of the room and curled into a ball to watch the scene. Bruce walked over, picked her legs up, and sat, laying them back down in his lap. He rested his cane against the side of the sofa and began softly massaging her feet. "Care to talk about it?" he inquired.
"I doubt you'll want to hear."
"Try me."
She pulled the arm away from her face and lifted her head slightly to look at him. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Her head dropped back and she took a sip of the amber liquid before beginning. He was sure that wasn't her first drink of the day. "It all started with a visit from your little friend."
"Terry?"
"You have other friends who dress up like they're ready to go trick or treating and show up on my windowsill?"
"What did he want?"
"To recruit me into your little war against my boss."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him you should both be fitted for matching straight jackets and confined to adjoining hospital rooms."
"Mardi," he chided.
"Okay I didn't say that but it doesn't make it any less true." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Then for lunch I went and spoke to Barbara Gordon. Perhaps you remember her better as Batgirl?"
"Why?" he asked sharply.
"I had to have some confirmation. I wanted a different perspective on the matter. I wanted someone to tell me it's okay that you used to dress up in a bat costume. That it's normal."
"Did she?" He was slightly annoyed she'd disregarded he orders to stay quiet.
"No," she said miserably. "She wouldn't talk about it. But she did give me a warning to pass on to Terry."
"I'm sure I've heard it before."
"Why didn't you ever tell me you had an affair with her?" She slipped the accusation in so smoothly the hurt was almost hidden from her voice.
"It was a long time before we met."
"I think I still had a right to know. Why is it I can't seem to walk anywhere without tripping over one of your old lovers? On second thought forget it." They sat in silence for a while as he continued to gently rub her feet and ankles. "I haven't even gotten to the best part yet," she said finally. "Derek Powers called me into his office this afternoon." She sat up, pulling her legs out of his lap, bending her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "He informed me that unless you stop blocking his purchase of that munitions factory he's going to have me arrested for embezzlement, to the tune of 25 million dollars. I'm assured I'll get at least fifteen years in prison and that his evidence is airtight."
Bruce felt his entire body go cold. "He didn't."
"Oh he most certainly did, but not before asking me to use my ways to convince you."
"Bastard," he growled. Despite her flippant words, he could see the fear written all over her face. She slowly rocked back and forth, lower lip quivering, tears shining in her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
"How?" she asked in a small voice. "You can't give in or he'll just hold it over our heads whenever you disagree with him. And if you don't then I'm going to jail." The tears finally broke out and rolled down her cheeks.
"I will handle Derek Powers. He's not a threat to us. Trust me."
