Another Chance
Chapter 49
The news seeped out slowly, with conflicting accounts. The leader had been on a secret diplomatic mission, and his plane had gone down. He had been attacked by terrorists. He had tried to save an assistant from drowning in the sea and had fallen victim to an undertow. There was even one sensational account that he had been attacked by a shark.
The truth finally emerged. Vlad had been horseback riding with his lover, wearing his signature medal around his neck, but no shirt. Somehow the chain had been caught in a tree branch, severing his spinal cord when he was jerked from his saddle.
Herculean efforts were made to save him, but he had no will to live as less than a symbol of strength and deteriorated over several days until finally passing away. The state funeral was impressive with lines of citizens stretching for miles waiting to bid the man whose propaganda had convinced them he was their savior, goodbye.
The Russian government is in confusion. The prime minister is nominally in charge until a new president can be chosen, but no one actually did anything without the leader's direction and approval, and now the Russian ship of state is essentially rudderless.
The Company sees the disarray as both a danger and an opportunity. When the Soviet Union had fallen apart, many nuclear assets had gotten into even more dangerous hands, with shipments of yellowcake finding their way around the world to be used in concert with plans for bombs, conveniently provided by a Pakistani arms dealer. All the U.S. intelligence agencies, as well as those of the allies, are determined to make sure similar events don't occur with Vlad's demise. An almost equal priority is dismantling the networks, cyber and otherwise he put together to undermine democratic governments. It's all hands on deck, including Hunt's. He's just hoping he can make it back to the states when Richard and Kate tie the knot.
It's a good thing the wedding arrangements are virtually complete because the LSAT will be given the same week as the wedding. Kate had considered putting off taking it, but with a baby and her return to the force, there will never be a perfect time, so the upcoming date will be as good as any.
She plans on returning to work shortly after her honeymoon. The agenda for her first trip with Rick as his wife has morphed from the leisurely stay on a private island, that she and Castle had first envisioned, to a child-friendly cruise. They'll still be able to lounge in the bright sunshine surrounded by blue water, they'll just never be far from Aletha.
Castle has taken it in stride. Alexis often traveled with him as both a baby and an older child, and he learned to make the adjustments and enlist loving and competent help when he needed it. Kate is still learning the ropes. Some friendly advice from the La Leche League helped her nurse without sore nipples, but Castle seems to be able to jounce, jiggle and amuse Aletha more aptly than she can. The silly expressions on his mobile face evoke smiles and bright eyes, and his repertoire of children's songs and rhymes seems almost endless. Kate's been watching the Kid's Channel on YouTube just to try to catch up. Still, it's comforting to know that she can trust Rick implicitly to do the best for their daughter, as her mother trusted Jim Beckett to do the best for hers.
"What are you looking at?" Alexis asks.
Micah frowns at the words on the sheet of paper he's holding. "It's a letter from an equity company. They saw our Thera prototype at the electronics show, and they want to talk about funding the development of the project. Their offices are in Silicon Valley, but they're willing to send a rep to New York to speak with us."
"What's wrong with that?" Alexis inquires. "We'll need the money, Micah. We've been able to scrape together what we had to for parts, and the provisional patent didn't cost much, especially since you did the drawings yourself. But that's just a placeholder so we can say patent pending. It won't even be reviewed. A real patent will cost thousands of dollars, and there will have to be a scale-up and marketing. All of that is expensive, and it may be years before we see any of it back."
Micah lays the letter on the table. "I thought we were going to crowdfund."
"We were," Alexis agrees, "and we still can, but there's no guarantee we'll get anywhere with it. And equity companies have contacts and experience. They know how to make a project succeed. We can use that kind of expertise. If they're willing to spend the money to send a representative to talk to us, we should at least listen to what they're offering."
Micah shrugs. "All right. We can listen. But I've heard stories about companies like this before. They get a controlling interest, and then they find a way to cut the original developers out, so they end up making almost nothing from their work and the money guys get everything. It happened to an engineer I know. He figured out a way to make cooling fans in computers run more quietly. His fans ended up being used all over the place, especially in gaming machines, but he only made a few thousand dollars, and the equity firm that put up the money made millions."
Alexis puts a hand on his shoulder. "I understand. Dad's publisher makes a lot more money off his books than he does. That's why he has to sell so many of them. When I was a kid, he used to tell me, 'He who has the gold, makes the rules.' But we'll be careful. If anything feels off, we can just say no."
Micah wraps his fingers around hers. "OK. We'll listen."
J.B. Johnson checks himself out in a full-length mirror. His suit is new and tailored to impress. The offices he rents are also meant to inspire confidence. Even though he's tall with broad shoulders, he never actually played football. That doesn't stop him from having a framed jersey and memorabilia from a college he never attended, up on his wall.
He does actually use the little putting green he had installed in one corner. He managed to weasel his way into a country club frequented by millionaires and a couple of billionaires. They talk deals on the golf course, and he listens. He's even been accepted as part of a foursome now and then.
So far, the investments he's managed to solicit have been relatively small, but he's garnered a lot of them. He'll put just enough money into a venture so that it will limp along and either he'll gain more control with each succeeding tranche, or let the hopeful companies die while he takes off with the bulk of the money and sets himself up in a new spot. Some of the inventors of the products he hawked went into bankruptcy, and one even died of a stroke, but that's the breaks.
So far, he's doing pretty well for himself. He would be doing better if he didn't love the tables in Vegas so much, but that's fine. There is always someone dreaming of becoming the next Bill Gates, and he is more than happy to encourage that kind of fantasy. He just needs an impressive new product as a front. The students in New York may have just what he needs.