DISCLAIMER: Please see earlier disclaimers: nothing new on that front.
ONCE AGAIN, THANKS for the input. Several comments have helped clarify my thoughts for what's in store, and all have been a help in finding what works! Please keep 'em coming.
SEATTLE, SECTOR NINE, Casper Drive:
Eight hours later, Logan sat outside in the rain, waiting. If this indignity, suffered because of his inability to mount the four steps up onto Bennet's front entryway, resulted in Bennett seeing him–maybe even, he allowed ruefully, moved his cousin to see him–then it was worth it.
His calls had been rebuffed; his trip to Cale Industries, unproductive. First turned away at the gate, he was finally allowed inside to be told that Bennett wasn't there. And during his brief stay, Logan saw the formerly bustling company frozen in indecision, workers locked out, administrative staff hushed and anxious.
So the only thing left for Logan to do was to storm the battlements. Pulling up as dusk was settling in, he remembered–upon seeing them–that these 'battlements' had steps. Given the rest of his day, he was grimly certain that Murphy's Law guaranteed he'd find the back door either unreachable or equally insurmountable. Still, stubbornly, he pulled up the collar on the thin windbreaker he'd grabbed hours earlier, not planning for the weather, to brave the chilly, April Fool's Day downpour. How apt a day for this, he prodded himself, as he discovered that once again, his instincts were right...
So now, growing colder as well as wetter, knowing he'd lost all hope of a dramatic, unexpected appearance at Bennett's front door, he made one last attempt, pulling out his cell phone and hoping Marianne was home. At least she answered his calls, when caller ID displayed his number to show who was calling...
"Logan?" Her soft voice, becoming familiar to him now, still carried the tones of concern and weariness he'd heard developing earlier in the day. More ripples, he thought...
"Hey, Marianne. Would you ask Bennett to take a look out front, please?"
Without another word from her, Logan saw the curtains stir immediately, and Marianne's face appeared. With a soggy, flutter-fingered wave, Logan watched her as his presence registered, followed immediately by the curtains flapping back into place as she retreated. In only brief seconds, Bennett's face materialized where Marianne's had been, a look of angry exasperation visible even from the sidewalk where Logan sat. Now his face disappeared, and in bare moments, Bennett jerked open the front door, took a step out and hesitated, suddenly pivoting to go back inside, leaving the door ajar. In just as few seconds he reappeared, carrying a large golf umbrella. Already swearing as he came outside and down the steps, Bennett struggled the umbrella open and stomped up to where his now-drenched cousin sat, lifting its large form over them both.
"Damn it, Logan, are you crazy? What were you thinking? You'll freeze to death!"
Despite the almost-comic circumstances, both of them dripping and Bennett spurting his anger in little wet puffs of vapor, appreciation nudged at Logan as he realized that something was different about this Cale. If he'd done the same thing outside his aunt's house, Margo would have hustled outside just as quickly, but only for the purpose of bustling him away from the prying eyes of her neighbors, her focus so fixed on what others would think that it would never cross her mind to wonder why he was drowning himself in front of her home. But Bennett never took his eyes off Logan, oblivious to whether or not anyone saw him leaving his disabled cousin stranded at the curb. Bennett was flat-out pissed at his risking his health, Logan noted in some surprise–and the reaction touched him. "You wouldn't see me at CI, wouldn't take my calls..." Logan blinked up through rain streaked lenses, not bothering to wipe them with the soaked sleeve he knew would just make matters worse. "Are you that angry with me?"
Bennett stared down at him, shifting emotions parading across his face before finally agonizing, "Damn it, Logan, I'm not angry at you–is that what you thought?" He shook his head, drawing a breath to start again, but stopped, realizing, "Look, you're soaked–and even though you could come in the back way, I don't know that I have dry clothes that would fit you."
Logan shook it off and suggested, "Look, we could just go talk in my car..."
"That's not going to make you dry." Bennett frowned, then said, "You go home, and dry off. I'll be there in–what, an hour? How long will you need to get a hot shower and change?"
Logan waved it away, "I don't need a shower–I'll just get out of these clothes..."
"Logan, damn it..." Bennett was flustered, clearly concerned about Logan's well-being.
Logan let his chilled fingers drop to his wheels, assuring him, "Bennett, honestly–a towel and some dry clothes are all I'll need." He backed up a little, moving out of the shelter of the umbrella. "An hour?"
"Make it two" Bennett growled. "And take the damn shower!"
FOGLE TOWERS: 9:05 PM
Bennett had actually been closer to the mark than Logan had recognized until he found himself shivering in the car on the drive home, even with the heater full blast, not much change in his stiffened fingers and clammy skin. He probably did need that shower, but that wasn't what would necessitate the additional prep time under the circumstances. It was all the other stuff–his somewhat slower, slippery transfer into the car with wet, stiffened hands, the ten minute drive back home, the still slowed, soggy transfer once home, the even slower process of undressing when clammy, wet clothes clung... the hour Bennett originally anticipated was calculated by his memory of the old Logan, he realized. The second hour he'd added had been just about right.
So now, after an hour and forty minutes and a rather hot shower, it was a decidedly more comfortable Logan, in thick wooly socks, heavy sweat pants, long sleeved tee shirt and zippered fleece pullover–all blessedly dry--who sat at the dresser and let the hot air of his hair dryer curl down his neck under his shirt, letting the blower run a few minutes after his hair was dry, enjoying the warmth even well after the icy wet chill had been chased away. Finally switching it off, he started to move out of the bedroom when he happened to get a look at his feet, motionless and suddenly comical in their socks, vulnerable...
Uncertain why the unexpected embarrassment had surfaced, Logan went back to retrieve his sneakers and plop them in his lap. He'd start the coffee and pull them on before Bennett arrived, to make him appear a little less helpless, Logan decided–and wondered immediately why he thought shoes would help...
Moving into the kitchen to pull out coffee and start filling the pot, it occurred to him that his self-conscious responses were because Bennett had been there, in his home, only one other time since he'd been injured. If it wasn't enough that this was his one, remaining relative who seemed to have some concern and affection for him, he was also the one remaining officer at Cale Industries he could trust. Or at least, he trusted that he could trust him. And he couldn't walk away from his responsibility to CI and its employees and shareholders, as it now foundered, any more than he could walk away from Eyes Only's responsibility to make its activities–his uncle's activities–public. So on two very different fronts, he needed Bennett to see that he was as able as he'd ever been to help in this...
He slid the basket of coffee grounds into the machine, poured in the water and set the machine to start its brew. Moving on into the computer room, he saw that yet another waiting message had been added to the four already there upon his arrival. He hit the playback button to listen as he lifted his right foot to rest it on his left knee, and work the shoe carefully over his unfeeling toes. The first message was Matt with a requested update on an unrelated matter; the second was Max. The third was another informant, as was the fourth, and the fifth . . .
"Logan, it's me. Look..." Max's voice carried her concern, more than he was used to hearing from her. Well, he'd certainly put her through enough of a cold shoulder recently that he shouldn't be surprised, and wondered how he could have been so callous to the woman who mattered to him more than any other woman ever had... more than any other person could. "I know things really suck right now, and you're probably tryin' to find some way make things right. I want to help...you've been there for my family...and I figure I can do the same for you. Call me..."
He felt a shame in his recent doubts of her–and then guilty as the same doubts still allowed themselves to be heard, if from a distance...What happened with Ben? The same fate as the luckless victim in the photos Lydecker sent...? He shook it away as he lifted the phone. Her past wasn't her fault, and long before she was really old enough to take matters into her own hands she did just that, her mission to leave all it behind and just live her life...All that, and she was who he knew her to be–the woman he loved, whether or not he could ever admit it to her. The woman he could trust, the woman who ran from the path they'd tried to create her to follow–the complete antithesis of the uncle he would see buried in the morning.
Logan hit the speed dial for her pager. He at least owed her a call. Time was when he might have chafed that she felt the need to check up on him, as if he needed a nanny. But right about now...it felt better than anything to know that she cared...
His phone rang in less than three minutes, barely after he'd gotten his second shoe tied and nestled in next to its twin. Grabbing the phone at his elbow, his response was greeted by a studiedly casual Max. "Hey, I was starting to think you'd hired another cat burglar." She tried to make it light, he heard. "How've you been doing?"
He had been a jerk to her; he'd withdrawn with his mental accusations and somehow, his revved up angel had sensed it and had taken it to heart. He'd have to do better... "Okay–thanks. How about you?" It occurred to him that in the world of the Cales, this was as trite a conversation as any, answers offered and not registered. But with him...with Max...it was heartfelt...even intimate. No matter what, it was still vitally important to his peace of mind to know that she was safe...
"Same ol'..." He noted that her attempts at being the tough guy didn't sound as believable as they used to. Was he getting a better ear for her–or did she just have more trouble hiding from him? Either way, it gave him more to consider... "So, were you out tracking down whomever was behind those 'drones?'
"You mean, other than my family?" Notwithstanding his thoughts of Max, his bitterness for his uncle's actions led the retort and made him sound harsher than he'd intended. He backed off. "I'd like to..." he conceded, "but I'm not sure how much of a trail there is. I managed a few files and surveillance tapes, but they're dead ends so far." He still hoped that Bling might help him see something, but there was nothing new yet on that front.
"Logan, I know how family things can be–well, you know what I mean..." He had never before heard her refer to any difference between her "family" and a more conventional, biological one. He frowned momentarily, realizing that he ought to have paid more attention to what had been going on between them recently–the timing was rotten, as focused as he needed to be on CI at the moment... "but whatever you need, Logan–I can help with this...whatever it is..."
He chewed his lip, wanting to keep her out of this one, for reasons he couldn't fathom other than a sense that he didn't want her seeing any more Cale dirty laundry than she already had. Just when he needed to give all his attention to this, here was Max, offering to be there for him...and telegraphing her concern that he was pulling away... "Thanks, Max, but with this one...I think I need to just keep poking around a bit..."
"Okay..." she wasn't convinced, but conceded for the moment. How cold had he been to elicit such acquiescence from her? "So how about if I come over and kick your ass at some chess?"
Timing, he repeated to himself, his timing had really gotten lousy of late... "Sorry, Max...Bennett's coming over any minute, and will be here a while, I think..."
"Is he doing alright with this?" Again, honest concern. He suddenly wished he could throw off the guilty responsibility gnawing at him and just spend the evening with Max...
The doorbell rang, and he cursed, inwardly. "I'm not sure–but I'll probably know in a bit; he's here." He wavered. "Max, look..." What could he say in ten seconds that wouldn't just make things worse? He began, awkwardly, to push toward the door, phone held precariously between rocking shoulder and ear. "I'll call you when I know something, alright?" He grimaced, then. Wasn't that a line he'd used too often to blow her off?
"Okay–look–just be careful...and...if you need..." She paused, uncharacteristically.
"I know, Max; thank you." He stopped, giving her his full attention. "I just need to do this. It.." How could he say it wouldn't be long, when he didn't know? "It's family...I know you know about that." He sighed for everything that had gone before... and for having to delay what he felt might be growing between them now, all for this sense of duty, because he too was a Cale. "Thanks for the offer of help."
"Just a page away," she promised, a bit more hopeful than she'd been at the start.
"I know--it makes things easier to face" he conceded. They ended their call before Logan moved again, pushing off quickly to get the door. He opened it to find Bennet, appearing a bit lost, still harried, and very, very strained, as he looked up to meet Logan's gaze. "C'mon in," Logan pulled back to let him pass, shutting the door behind him. "I'm sorry you had to come out on a night like this..."
"No, it's my fault for avoiding you all this time."
Logan tipped his chin toward the kitchen, and moved in its direction. "What can I get you–a drink? Or I have a fresh pot of coffee, just made..."
"Anticipating a long night?" Bennett's voice was edged with sarcasm, before he relented to admit, "Damn, Logan, they're all long nights now." Bennett wiped his hand tiredly over his eyes, a gesture any of Logan's friends would recognize as remarkably familiar. "Coffee's good" he managed, and was quiet for a moment, watching his cousin negotiate his kitchen smoothly, coping...he found his voice again. "I owe you an apology for blowing up at you the other day...and for blowing you off since. I shouldn't have let it get to the point where you thought it was because I was angry at you...and never should have let it go so far that you had to sit outside, freezing in the rain, to get me to talk to you."
"I was running out of options" Logan lifted his eyebrow and nudged a little, his tone prodding for his cousin to relax. But it seemed to make Bennet more morose.
"Well–I feel bad that I let it go so long, that you felt compelled...especially..." He paused, clearly uncomfortable. When Logan shrugged, not getting it, Bennett acknowledged, "Look, I know that with a spinal cord injury, you can have problems with maintaining your body's temperature."
"How'd you know that?" Logan looked up, again surprised and affected by his cousin's apparent concern. He handed Bennett a mug of steaming coffee.
Bennett looked a bit self-conscious. "When you were injured, I realized that I had no idea–beyond the obvious, of course–what it meant for you. None of us did. Things exactly like this, tonight, how you could have been risking hypothermia for what you just did..."
Watching closely to see if he'd somehow offended his older cousin, Bennett saw instead a light of gratitude in Logan's eyes. "So far, I haven't seemed to have much of a problem with that. It would be more likely if my injury had been higher." He was silent a moment, then looked back into Bennett's eyes. "I appreciate your being concerned enough to look it into it."
"It's what you would have done, had the tables been reversed." Bennett said immediately.
"Ah, but then, I'm the family research geek, remember?" Logan shrugged it away. "But you did it, out of concern..." He trailed again, the thought of this one, remaining family thread comforting. "I appreciate the thought." He tipped his head toward the living room and lifted his own mug toward Bennett in silent question. Taking the second mug without speaking, Bennett went on into the dimly lit front room, Logan following. They were quiet for long moments, Bennett clearly unsettled but wanting to talk...and Logan didn't have too long a wait...
"Logan, I don't know if I can do this" he admitted for the first time since he'd found himself at the helm of the endangered company. "The Board is meeting tomorrow–three hours before the funeral. I wonder if that's supposed to mean something" he sighed. "We're barely intact–the Feds have taken all the files...I had hoped that the other contracts we have, some of the other products, along with the new stuff we had working in R & D–there were some really terrific new applications, Logan; the guys had some new medical technology they were developing that could have grown into a whole new division– all that might have been enough to keep us going with some belt tightening, even if the whole hoverdrone line had to shut down. But they took everything..."
"What if we could get some of it back, the stuff we need?"
Bennett looked at his cousin more closely, having heard the pronoun that slipped out before Logan realized it had. "I spoke with Mason yesterday, he doesn't think we can."
"Do you really want to depend on Mason's counsel?" The company's in-house lawyer had done little but pull a sizeable check in recent years, having little need to acquaint himself with postPulse law, in light of the protection Cale Industries had from the government seeking to keep its drone-supplier happy. "I called a couple people I know and I have an idea–not terribly palatable, but if it keeps us in business..."
"What–bankruptcy?"
Logan nodded, wondering again that Jonas had assumed Bennett wasn't perceptive. "Think about it. Apparently government lockouts like this are a big reason that there have been so many postPulse Chapter 11 hardship applications, and the amendments specifically address company assets being impounded as ours were. It certainly seems justified in the circumstances." Like all the Cales, Logan and Bennett had been weaned on basic business law, discussed at the family dinner table the way other families shared the day's events or school lessons. As a result, the complex provisions of the tax code weren't quite as foreign to them as to most. "The trustee asserts the right to retake unrelated assets, the government actually has to give some credible justification to holding onto whatever non-monetary assets they want to keep– and we get an immediate twelve month protected freeze on further intrusion. Can you do much with these other projects in a year?"
Bennett nodded, a hopeful look in his eyes now. "A lot, I think. I'd wondered about doing this, too–you think it could work?" He breathed.
"I did even before I knew how much was going on aside from the 'drones" Logan nodded. "Are any of these projects dependent on either the technology or the hardware in the 'drones, on the chip or anything?"
"A few–but not the majority. And the chip is protected, you know; we have the patent, and the schematics aren't in the public domain..."
"We have a government patent, and they have a copy of the plans. No reason to think that the Feds can't tromp through that stuff at will. The privacy provisions we used to have are worthless, so we can't assume we have any salvageable assets there..."
Bennett snorted softly in a humorless laugh, and said, "You forget that you haven't spent much time on the inside, especially the last few years..." He drew a long sip of his coffee. "One of the Cale tricks of doing business, I learned a while ago, took a lesson from the Cale family matriarchy–when you pass on a requested recipe, you change the ingredient list–not enough to catch much attention, but enough to ensure that anyone trying to duplicate your efforts won't get exactly what you cooked up. Heaven forbid anyone be as good as a Cale at something..." He stared at his coffee, musing, then looked up. "Who'd've thought that such an approach might end up saving the company?"
Logan actually began to grin at the thought. "So the Feds can't make a 'drone?"
"Not with the filed plans–and from what R & D tells me, without the correct plans it will be pretty tough, given what and how they changed things, to find the precise combination of technology to make it work as it should."
Logan's eyebrows flickered up, imaging the end of the drones altogether. He also imagined the day when he and Bennett might disagree about manufacturing new ones...but that wasn't for now. "So what's the plan for the Board Meeting?"
"I think they want to put CI on the market. It would be a way to recoup something from the company–a few dollars for the property, the buildings and fixtures have some value to a variety of businesses..." He shook his head "but in this economy we'd get a tenth of its value, if that."
Logan studied the weary face. "Bennett–do you want to sell?"
He shook his head slowly. "I know I can make it work–maybe not as wealthy a company it was when..." he wavered slightly "when Jonas got into some things he shouldn't...but a healthy one. I want to try to keep it alive." Logan saw that there was more, and waited...after a few moments Bennett conceded, "Don't you remember what Granddad used to talk about, how we had a responsibility, that with the money and the advantages we had, we had to pass some of that on? He meant to the employees, the community... not just to our family or our own pockets."
Logan nodded, eyebrows lifting. "I'd been thinking about that too, this week."
Bennett signed. "Every time Jo...my father" he corrected "...went on about the bottom line, wanting to cut jobs or salaries...I kept hearing Grandfather's voice." Bennett's eyes fell. "I just wish I'd had the backbone to act on it, months ago."
"You may not be able to go back–but nothing's stopping us from trying now. I'm in, whatever you want to do."
Bennett looked back up. "You'll vote with me, to file?"
"Yes–and I want to come back to the company..."
"What? You hated..."
"I hated what was going on –when other people were in charge." Logan looked at his cousin, levelly. "I can help, Bennett. Look, I don't need to be there forever. But if they see it's the two of us, keeping an eye on things...and I have a few contacts who might be helpful with getting us back on track." Bennett eyed him a bit skeptically, curious, and Logan added, "I promise I won't be in your way. And I'd like to work with the R& D guys; maybe I can take that portion and save you some time."
Bennett relaxed into a rueful grin. "You were always better at the science of it all than I was. You could probably save everyone time by understanding what they say and translating it for me so I can get it." He sobered. "Logan, are you sure you want to do this? You never were one for offices, anyway...and I know you've been pretty well holed up here, since you were hurt..." His family had been convinced he was practically a housebound invalid, rarely venturing out, and Logan hadn't worked very hard to change their minds. It made his covert identity even less likely to be discovered by them. However, at the moment, he felt bad that he'd let Bennett believe it, too.
"I want in, Bennett–we can do it–you can do it, and the Board needs to see that the majority shareholders are together on this. I'll give you the final vote in it all; you know the company and you're willing to make it your life, even if I don't stay forever. But I can help– and I want to be there to do what I can." He wavered, and acknowledged, "You realize that, alone, you might be blown off, the young upstart –and that Jonas minimized you enough in the Board's eyes that maybe my coming back in will help give them more to think about?" His eyes sparkled as he added, "a Cale's a Cale, isn't that what Granddad said–even if it's a shot-up, Bohemian journalist-wannabe Cale, trying to fit back into the family business?"
Bennett chuckled, "Yeah, he said that too." With a pause, then a chuckled sigh, Bennett grinned again, more hopeful than he'd been in several days. "Let's plan our take-over..."
CALE INDUSTRIES: 8:05 AM
Rising to his feet, a far stronger, focused Bennett Cale faced the eleven seated around the table before him. Their chatter abated; their faces carried varying looks of expectation, hope...and, he noted, skepticism. However, what might have given him pause before left him undaunted, with Logan's presence and belief in what they were about to accomplish. "Ladies and gentlemen..." he began, having asked the Board president for an immediate audience. "First things first. I believe most of you know my cousin, Logan Cale, also a grandson of our founder– and son of Logan, Sr., who was the principal reason Cale Industries became as well respected as it..." he paused, glancing at his cousin, who sat with him at the head of the table, looking solemn in his newly tailored dark suit, ordered only days before when Logan faced the fact he no longer had a suit that could pass muster for Jonas' funeral. Logan's presence inspired him–and gave him strength. With a final, private note of amusement at the strong jaw, clean shaven for the first time in years, Bennett faced the room and dared, "...as it used to be–as we intend it to be in the future. Logan has agreed to come back to CI, during this crisis– and help get us through it. And as together, he and I hold fifty seven percent of the stock–ultimately, we'll be proceeding as we see fit. So my suggestion is this, under the circumstances: we table the remaining matters and adjourn for today–many of us have a funeral to attend. Logan and I will have a plan for you to consider within in the week. We can meet again a week from today, at this time."
The room was still; breaths held...moments passed...until a voice in the back, a quiet, middle aged voice, asked, "All in favor?"
Logan blinked a bit in surprise that it had been so easy, and wondered if before the meeting, his cousin might have found a sympathetic Board member to call for this vote. Nonetheless, he still breathed a sigh of relief once the 'ayes' were heard rippling around the table. He felt not only another surprise, but a bit of Bennett's strength himself, when no "nays" were heard when solicited. Whether those abstaining were skeptics merely too timid to go out on that limb, or silent partners in his uncle's schemes not willing to announce themselves yet, Logan felt a flush of victory as he looked up to see Bennett's eyes flash toward him with a look of determined success. He nodded imperceptibly to his cousin as the woman's voice spoke one last time.
"The 'ayes' have it...meeting adjourned..."
–To be continued–