Chapter 1: The Boss
George Schmidt’s office was lined with bookshelves filled with thick, leather-bound books. There were several tables around the room, mostly empty except for the table in the corner with the laser printer on it. His desk had a picture of his family, a few knick-knacks and a pen holder. The picture of his family seemed to be the only personal mark on the room.
George was in his fourth year as the director of the Secret Service. He had spent 15 years as an agent, and although he never spent time on the president’s detail, he made a name for himself as an agent in other capacities. More than that, though, he made himself known as a skillful manipulator of office politics. He was feared and disliked by peers and subordinates. Superiors kept him under close watch.
Sitting across the desk from him were two special agents – William Jones, a 6’5” 250-pound African-American, and Patrick Miller, 5’11” 190 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes. Both men were in their mid-thirties, looked and carried themselves like professionals, and had no idea why they’d been called to the boss’s office.
The director leaned toward the two agents, and said, “You need to bring this guy to my office.” He pushed a folder across the desk.
Agent Jones picked up the folder and opened it. “There are six different pictures, here. All of them can’t be David Markham. And exactly who is David Markham?”
The director answered, “Those are the pictures we have from various files. He’s 60-years old. He’s quite possibly the richest man in the world. His record of even existing is harder to find than a busboy in Omaha, Nebraska.”
Agent Miller asked, “What do you mean ‘quite possibly?’ Is he or isn’t he?”
The director said, “Well, he’s the CEO of B.E.N. Corporation. Most people haven’t even heard of it. I hadn’t until earlier this year. B.E.N. Corporation is a holding company that holds holding companies that are major stockholders in every global market. He runs it. He’s been pretty much operating outside of the government’s control for thirty years.”
Agent Jones asked, “Government control?”
The director said, “Yeah. We need to know what he’s doing. We need to know he’s not a threat to our nation. We need to make sure he understands his responsibilities with that kind of wealth. That’s why I and other government officials need to meet with him. Anyway, here’s a partial dossier on him.” He slid a somewhat thicker folder across the desk. “There’s more, but it’s all pretty sketchy.”
Jones and Miller looked at each other. Jones spoke, “So, are we supposed to arrest him? Has he broken laws? Are we supposed to bring him in chains? Or are we supposed to arrange an appointment?”
Director Schmidt said, “I frankly don’t give a shit how you get him here, get him here. You guys are going to be the third team to attempt to arrange a meeting.”
Jones asked, “What happened with the first two?”
“They failed.”
“Failed how?”
“They either didn’t make contact with Markham, or he refused to come in. Neither of those are acceptable options this time. Are we clear?”
Special Agents Jones and Miller answered in unison, “Yes, sir.”
They left the office carrying the folders and after walking a few feet, agent Miller mumbled, “Dick.”
