The Lifeguard

By Orrin Rush (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Nov 16, 2001

Gay

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are

offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go

somewhere else.

Copyright c 2001 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed

electronically or in any other manner without the express,

written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters

to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not

intended. They are all products of the author's imagination.


THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 48

"Why?" I asked. "I was as involved as you were."

"Yes, but I should have taken better care of that tape. Kept

it locked up. What're we going to do?"

I got up and led him over to a sofa so we could sit

together. "Absolutely nothing," I said.

"But..." he stammered.

"The worst that can happen is that we're 'outed' and lose a

little of our anonymity," I told him. "Big deal! It'll blow

over. Actually, the death threat concerns me more."

"I'm confident that Bob can handle that."

"I'm proud of you, by the way," I said.

"Why?"

"For what you said to Bob."

"I meant it."

"I know that," I said, "now he knows where you stand too. Do

you have any idea how many people you had to prove yourself

to?"

"I'm learning."

"You did it by just being yourself."

"I love you, David," he said looking into my eyes.


A team of Bob's men swept my office for bugs before our

meeting. We were on high alert.

Jack brought Dale along, and when we were all seated, I

decided to lay ALL of our cards on the table.

"It appears that the Union has decided to play hardball," I

announced. "This morning, I got a death threat and Eric got

a blackmail attempt."

I looked straight at Jeff. "This is something that we've

never discussed openly, Jeff," I said. "Eric is my lover and

they are trying to use that against us."

"I assumed as much," he said, "but thank you for being open

with me."

"There are a few other things that not all of you know

about," I continued. "I've had the Union under surveillance

for several months. We have the capability of knowing what

they're planning and doing. Jack and Dale are getting this

information and, so far, have been able to counter their

moves.

"We're also watching the Milton brothers. It appears that

they're looking for revenge and are helping the Union as a

means of getting back at us for uncovering their hanky-panky

with Milton before we bought it.

"Bob is eminently capable of handling the death threats, and

Eric and I intend to ignore the blackmail attempts. What we

do from here is up to you guys."

"I was afraid something like this would happen," Jack said.

"If they want to play dirty, we can play just as dirty."

"My boys'll take care of the blackmail too," Bob offered.

"It would be counter-productive to turn over what we know

about the Union scum," Dale said. "If we did that, we'd lose

our advantage of knowing what they're going to do next."

"You must have them thoroughly 'bugged'," Jeff commented.

"We do," I told him. "That's another thing. The methods I'm

using aren't exactly kosher, so none of this discussion is to

leave this room."

"What do you think'll happen when we don't respond to their

blackmail attempt?" Eric asked.

"They may try something more drastic," Bob said. "That's

what has me worried."

"What's the current status of the petition drive?" I asked.

"It's looking pretty good," Jeff said. "All the West Coast

plants are over the 50% mark. The Midwest and South are

close to reaching that level. It's the ones in the Northeast

that are the problem. That's where the Union is applying the

most pressure. They're our biggest plants, and, at the

moment, it isn't looking good."

"Do we need 50% of every plant, or 50% of the total?" I asked.

"It works on a plant-by-plant basis," Jack answered. "We may

end up split - part union, part non-union. That'd be a mess."

"I disagree," Dale said. "We have one contract covering all

plants, so 51% of the total would be all we'll need."

"You may be right," Jack conceded. "That means we can't let

up when we reach 50% at any plant, we need every signature we

can get."

More strategy was discussed, ending up with what they'd do

once this thing was settled, win or lose. "Rizullo will go

to jail for sure," Dale said. "We've got the goods on him,

and, putting that information in the right hands, he'll be

put away permanently."

"Those Miltons turn my stomach," Jack commented. "They're

nothing but a couple of child molesters, and that kiddie porn

they're into is sickening."

"We're gonna win, boss," Jack said on his way out.

Bob stayed. "I want you to know what I'm doing," he said.

"First, all the mail coming in here is going to be scanned,

just like at the airport. Bring any mail you get at home in

for scanning before opening it.

"I don't know exactly what's on that tape, and I don't want

to see it, but the only thing that anybody'd publish is your

faces, even the sleaze rags. Dave, I know there aren't any

current pictures of you in circulation, so I'm afraid you

might see your face all over the place. Eric, there're

pictures of you out there, so it won't be such a big deal.

"I've talked to Jay and Rob in PR, and they don't think the

gay thing will be of much interest. A minor flap, then soon

forgotten. There's not much we can do about either the

pictures or any stories that may be printed.

"The internet's another matter. They can post the whole tape

on some adult site, but we'll be watching for anything like

that. Our 'boys' assure me that if they find it they can

destroy the whole site, and probably the server that's

carrying it.

"Now, we come to YOUR safety. We're upping security here at

the office and at the house. We've also got some new hi-tech

gadgets that I want you all to use, including the girls."

He held out four watches - two mens' and two womens. "These

are beacons that will let us know where you are at all

times. I'd appreciate if you'd wear them all the time except

in the shower, even to bed. These little goodies," he said,

handing us four little devices that looked like the ones we

used to unlock our cars, "are panic buttons. If you feel in

any way threatened, push the button like this," he

demonstrated, "and someone will be there in seconds. Keep

them in your pocket all the time.

"If you want, I'll put men on your parents, Eric. Just say

the word."

"They wouldn't go for it," Eric told him.


When we got home, Eric made a mad dash for his study. He

came out holding up three tape cassettes. "They're all

here," he said. "Do we have a safe?"

"In our bedroom," I told him.

"Let's look at them tonight and make sure they're the right

ones, THEN put them in the safe," he suggested, leering and

heading for our bedroom.

"How can you think about sex at a time like this?" I teased

him.

"Don't kid me!" he shot back. "I saw that tent in your pants

this morning!"

Annie and Tina were NOT enthused about wearing the beacon

watches and carrying the panic buttons. When I explained the

alternative - a full time bodyguard, they changed their tune.

We told them all about the blackmail attempt. I wanted them

to be prepared if anything actually came of it and to hear

about it from us first. We didn't go into a great amount of

detail, but enough so they'd understand what it was all about.

Annie was thoughtful, then, as usual, came directly to the

point. "Dad, in the back of my mind, I know that you and

Eric have sex together, but to us kids, the concept of our

parents having sex with ANYONE is unbelievable. Parents

just don't have sex!"

Eric started laughing, "Annie, you've just put into words

exactly how I've felt about MY parents all my life."

"Then you agree?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he said, still laughing, "It's something that

we KNOW is happening, but it just isn't real!"

"I agree with both of you," Tina said, giggling. "Can you

picture Mom having sex..."

This got us all laughing. "I don't want to think about it!"

Annie said.

Tina got serious. "I think it's pretty wonderful that we can

have a discussion like this. I want you, Dad, and you, Eric,

to know that I stand behind you, whatever happens."

"Me too," Annie said, getting up and giving both of us a hug.

Tina was next in line.

We crawled into bed to watch the other three videos. Eric

ran them in chronological order, first Denver, then Dallas.

Watching our second orgasms in Dallas, Eric reached down and

took my hand off of his dick. "I'm almost there," he said.

"These are so fucking hot!"

"Think we could make it as porn stars?" I giggled.

After he'd loaded the third video, the one taken there in our

bedroom, he pulled his stop watch out of the nightstand.

"This was one of the longest orgasms you've ever had," he

said. "I want to find out how long it really was."

We watched as I slipped over the brink, the stiffening, then

the thrashing and eventually, the collapse. "Wow! Three

minutes and twelve seconds!" he said. "That's incredible!"

"That's what you do to me," I answered.

"Let's see if I can do it again," he said, switching off the

TV.

"How about you?" I asked.

"Touch me and I'm a goner," he giggled.

I did, with my lips, taking him to the bottom in one gulp.

"Oh God!" he groaned and started cumming, and cumming, and

cumming. I massaged his balls and rubbed his rosebud with my

finger and he started all over again. The aftershocks

produced additional squirts that I greedily swallowed.

"I'm drained," he moaned as I held him in my arms.

As he recovered, he reached for my dick. "Too late," I told

him. "I came when you did."


The following day, Annie walked into my office with a little

less gusto than usual.

"Hope I didn't embarass you last night," she said.

"You didn't," I assured her. "I'm just glad that we can all

talk about these things."

"It's reality," she said, "even though I have trouble

accepting it sometimes."

"We both really appreciate the support you guys are giving

us," I said.

"Hey, you're our Dad," she said. "I accepted the fact that

you prefer men a long time ago, and I'm so damned glad that

you found somebody like Eric. We love him too, but in a

slightly different way," she giggled.

"I consider myself very fortunate, too. I hope we never

embarass you."

"To be honest, I was pretty nervous about that Commitment

Ceremony you had. I was afraid it'd be kind of sleazy, but I

was completely wrong. When I saw the looks on your faces, I

really realized how much you love each other, and instead of

being embarassed, I was so damned proud of both of you."

"I had my doubts too, you know," I said. "What's going on

with you these days? Haven't heard anything about Andy since

Dallas."

"Distance and lack of interest, I guess," she answered.

"He's a nice guy, but no life. You and Eric have spoiled

me. You guys are so dynamic and adventurous it's hard for

anybody else to measure up."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be. You set a great example, one I'm following

myself, and I just can't see myself with somebody who doesn't

enjoy life like we do."

"What do you hear from your mother?" I asked, changing the

subject.

"I think that incident last Thanksgiving scared the hell out

of her. Even so, she won't admit that she needs help and is

still blaming you for all her problems.

"We don't hear much from her, only an occasional letter since

we won't take her calls. All she ever does is whine and

wallow in self pity, and I'm not particularly interested in

hearing it."

"She's still your Mother..."

"I know, but I'm not going to let her drag me down to her

level. Tina isn't, either. We have so much more going for us

now that we have you - - and Eric, and Sarah. We know that

we're loved unconditionally, something that Mom never gave

us."

I didn't have a response to that, and the subject turned to

business.

"Hydra's going real well," she reported. "Sales of marginal

property is right on target, and we've already been able to

make a big payment to Metalco. The Silicon Valley project is

moving right along, and we have a couple of other, smaller,

projects under construction. As you already know, the mine is

pumping out cash faster than we can count it."


Whoever was monitoring Tony Rizullo was really thorough. His

movements were reported as well as just about all of his

conversations. The fool thought that the tape would make us

cave in immediately. Instead, we upped the pressure.

Our managers fed information about Tony's "deals" with the

Miltons to the non-union organizers. Logic prevailed. The

fact that Tony had "sold out" the membership in the past,

didn't go over very well with the Rank and File. Not only

did they want to get rid of the union, they wanted to lynch

Tony for what he'd done to them.

"Somehow", copies of Tony's offshore Bank Statements found

their way to the membership. The amounts on deposit didn't

jibe with his reported $75,000 salary.

The Union's next move was to call strikes at those plants

that sympathized with Management. Jack, being forewarned, was

ready, filing for injunctions almost before the pickets

showed up. Tony didn't catch on. We were careful not to

"leak" anything that would give away our "source".


Eric had given Bob's men Power of Attorney covering matters

related to the New York apartment. The cleaning service was

shocked to learn that one of their employees had stolen

something and had been real cooperative.

All records regarding the people who'd worked at the

apartment were turned over. Every one of these had been

checked out, given lie detector tests, and all came out clean.

Bob was baffled, but determined to find the culprit. In the

meantime, the locks were changed and an elaborate alarm

system was installed. Needless to say, the cleaning service

was no longer employed.

Neither Bob nor Eric wanted to involve the police. Bob felt

that his own men were as good as any police, and Eric wasn't

interested in having to explain what was missing.

We all wracked our brains trying to think of who else might

have had access. It was a mystery that Bob was determined to

solve.


Reading the transcripts of his conversations, we learned what

Tony was planning to do with the tape. He was negotiating

with a mob-owned Adult website to have them run it in "movie"

format. He'd also had "stills" made of Eric and me from the

tape and was trying to sell them to the highest bidder among

the sleazy supermarket tabloids, pocketing the money himself,

of course.

There wasn't much we could do about the tabloids. About all

they could print were our faces anyway. Anything more would

be too pornographic even for them. The accompanying "story"

would, no doubt, be lurid and stress the gay angle.

Eric and I had agreed that IF anything was printed, we would

ignore it and refuse to acknowledge its existence. The story

would die of natural causes if we didn't add fuel to the fire.

The adult website was another matter. Bob's "hackers" had

already gained access and were poised to destroy it if

anything got posted.


Eric was constantly amazed at the loyalty and protection we

received from the people who worked with us. They were

handling this situation calmly and expertly, letting us know

what they were doing, but taking care of everything

themselves.

I urged Eric not to obsess on the turmoil, and to get

involved in other things until it was settled. Following my

own advice, I caught up on other matters myself, involving

Eric wherever I could.

Hal brought us up to date on Lovebird. Ore shipments were

back to normal. The little "patrol" chopper was doing its

job. One guy had been spotted in the rocks and arrested by

the sheriff. He hadn't posed any real threat, having only a

conventional rifle with him which would have been ineffective.

Basic Metals was moving forward on the copper mine. Hal was

acting as liaison between them and our Railroad to build

tracks to the site of the smelter they'd build.

John was still poking holes in the Arizona landscape, but

hadn't found anything significant lately. Hal was on top of

everything going on.

"Even though I had a lot of misgivings about taking a 'desk

job'," Hal admitted, "I'm thoroughly enjoying what I'm doing."

"We're real happy to hear that," Eric spoke for both of us.

"Got yourself a boyfriend yet?"

"I'm working on that," Hal answered, turning a little red in

the face. "Seeing a lot of one of your Lifeguard buddies."

"Which one?" Eric wanted to know.

"Darrel," he answered.

"He's hot!" Eric agreed, and I gave him a playful slug in the

shoulder.

"Besides being gorgeous, he's a helluva nice guy," Hal

added. "We're moving slow, though. I'm still kind of new to

all this."


Ron and Jason brought their new Flight Operations Director in

to meet us. Just from his appearance I knew he was the

Marine pilot we'd discussed earlier.

Ron didn't mince words. "I was wrong," he admitted. "Old

Sam here doesn't have any problem with us Air Force dropouts."

That was a nice way of putting it, but his meaning was clear

to all of us.

"Sexual orientation is a personal matter," Sam spoke up.

"Some of the best pilots I've ever flown with were gay, and

that's just fine with me."

"With everything that's going on at Milton, we're running at

capacity," Jason reported. "We could sure use another plane

right now."

"We've stationed one of the small planes on the East Coast to

take care of the short hops," Sam said.

"Sam's getting maximum utilization out of the planes we've

got," Jason commented, "much better than we've ever done

before."

"I have a computer scheduling program that makes it easy,"

Sam said.

"We didn't even know such a thing existed," Ron remarked.

"When do we get the other GV?" Eric asked.

"It's going to be another six or seven months," Ron answered.

"We should be getting the replacement for the leased plane a

little sooner."

"Hold a little space for us next month," Eric suggested.

"There'll be one, maybe two trips to Europe."

Oh yes, Sarah's annual party, I remembered.

"As soon as you have the dates, let me know," Sam said.

"I'll work around them."

"We have a close friend and business associate in New York

that you'll be hearing from," I mentioned. "Her name's Sarah

Thornton, and she's to get top priority - even if our own

people have to fly commercial."

Sam was taking notes.

"Found a steward yet?" I asked Ron.

"Sam has," he answered. "Stole a guy from Southwest

Airlines."

"Cute, too," Jason said.

With an arched eyebrow, Sam looked over at Jason. "You're

married, cool it!" he said.

Eric exploded in laughter. "Looks like you've met your

match, asshole," he said to Jason who was laughing too.

"I see I'm working with a rather informal group," Sam

observed.

"In the air, it's strictly business," Ron explained. "On the

ground, Dave and Eric are not only our employers but our good

friends."

"How's the pilot situation?" I asked.

"Sam's bringing in a couple of jarhead dropouts for us to

interview," Ron said.

Damn, it looked like Sam could do anything.


Until Eric had mentioned it in our meeting with the pilots, I

had totally forgotten Sarah's invitation. I asked Eric about

it that night at dinner.

"It's play all day and party all night for two weeks," he

said.

Both he and Annie provided us with details. The second week

was the "gala" one, evidently the first week was the warmup.

Sarah's friends from all over the world would be there. It

would be one of the world's premier social events of the year.

"I'm hoping we can all get away for the second week," Eric

said, his eyes pleading.

"I don't see why not," I said, and he let out a big sigh of

relief. "Where will we be staying?"

"Annie and Tina are staying with Sarah," he said. "You and I

will be staying someplace else. I'll take care of

everything."

"One night's a masquerade ball," Annie said, "so get a

costume ready."

"Oh shit," I muttered, "here we go again."

"I'll take care of it," Eric volunteered, his eyes sparkling.

"Jacques will take care of our clothes. We'll take him

along, for sure. He speaks French, and just about every

other language." It was pretty clear to me that Eric was

really excited about this.


"First it's square dancing, now this," I chuckled as we lay

in each other's arms.

"Don't blame me," he said, "you're the one who promised Sarah

we'd be there. Remember?"

"I conveniently forgot that," I told him.

"Leave everything to me," he said. "All you have to do is

show up."

"How come two flights over?" I asked.

"Sarah goes early to supervise preparations," he said. "She

might want to stay longer than two weeks, too."

"No problem," I said. "I was just curious."


Jeff was jubilant. Out of 48,000 Milton employees, 30,000

had signed petitions calling for a representation election.

The NLRB had been notified, and would soon set the date for

the election, which they would supervise.

"It ain't over yet," Jack warned. "The Union will be

campaigning hard until Election Day, and they're going to do

everything they can to discredit us."

"Like we've been doing to them?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, only they could get real mean," Jack said.

"Do we have any skeletons in our closet - - other than Eric

and me?" I asked.

"Even if everything about you two came out, I don't think it

would affect the election," Jack said. "That's only for the

purpose of intimidating you. Hell, they've been smart enough

not to do anything with that tape. If they did, they'd lose

the advantage they think they have over us."

"What else could they do?" Eric asked.

"Only two things that I can think of," Jack said. "First,

would be the threat that we'll move production overseas,

something we HAVE done in the past, and the other would be

more than just threats, but some real violence."

"The family's well protected," Bob said. "The only thing

that bothers me is Eric's parents."

"I'll talk to them again," Eric promised. "Do you have any

more of those beacons and panic buttons?"

"Sure do," Bob said, "Just say the word."

"When do you think they'll hold the election?" I asked.

"It'll be at least 30 days after they get the petitions,"

Jack said. "We'll be pushing for the earliest date possible."


"Why don't we take Mom and Dad out to dinner," Eric

suggested. "Between us, I think we can convince them that

it's really no big deal to wear these things."

"You're the charmer, Babe. I'll leave it up to you."

"If I've been able to talk YOU into some of the things I

have, they should be a piece of cake!" he laughed.

"Is this about the bodyguards?" Ingrid asked as soon as we

were seated.

"Well, kinda," Eric answered.

"I suppose you're here to help him convince us?" she said to

me.

I just nodded.

"OK, give us your pitch," she glared at Eric.

"How do you like my new watch?" he asked her.

"Nice. Don't change the subject."

"It's what I wear so I don't have to have a bodyguard," he

ventured.

"How's it work?" Karl spoke for the first time.

"It's a beacon, lets my 'shadow' know where I am all the

time," he said, holding it up. "Along with this," he

continued, holding up his panic button, "I'm fully covered."

"What's that thing?" his mother demanded.

"We call it a 'Panic Button'. If anybody even looks at me

cross-eyed, I just push this button here, and within seconds,

someone will be here to take care of the problem," he

explained.

"Where's your 'shadow' and protector right now?" she asked.

"They're around here someplace," he said, "see, you didn't

even notice them."

"I suppose you're going to ask us to wear these things too?"

Ingrid asked.

"Yes, Mom, I'd like both you and Dad to use them," Eric

pleaded.

"Why? Are we in danger?" she asked.

I winked at Eric and took over. "It's just a precaution," I

said. "We're having a little battle with the Metal Workers

Union, who're not known to be real nice people. We're afraid

that they might try to get at us through you. I'm so sorry

that you're involved, but we just want to make sure that

you're OK, and stay that way."

She still wasn't convinced. "What makes you think that they

might do anything?"

"We've received death threats and blackmail attempts," Eric

told her, exaggerating slightly.

"We take them seriously," I assured her.

We had her attention now. Eric went for the kill. "It's so

easy," he said. "just wear these, nothing to it. I love you

both so much, and if you'd do this for me, I'd feel so much

better."

Ingrid looked at him skeptically. I glanced at Karl, who was

grinning.

"All we do is wear the watches, and if somebody points a gun

at us, we push the panic button, and somebody comes running

to our rescue? Is that right?" she asked.

"That's all there is to it," Eric said.

"Where are these rescuers going to be?" she asked.

"They'll be close to you all the time, but you won't even

notice them," Eric promised.

"Oh hell, Momma, let's do it," Karl said. "How long do you

want us to wear these things?"

"It may be a month or two before things cool off," I told him.

"I'll do it under one condition," Ingrid said, staring at

Eric. "You have to call me every day and let me know that

YOU'RE OK."

"I promise. We'll be in Europe for a week or so next month,

and I'll even call you from there," he said, taking watches

and panic buttons out of his pocket.

"Tell me about your trip," Ingrid said to him, exchanging

watches.

I turned to Karl. "Must be nice to have your own Police

force," he said, chuckling.

"At times like these, it sure is," I agreed.

"What'd you do to piss off the Union?" he asked, still

chuckling.

"When we bought Milton, they were unionized. We're trying to

throw their asses out," I told him.

"That'd do it," he commented. "How many members?"

"Around 48,000," I told him.

He whistled. "That'd get anybody's attention. They playing

rough?"

"They're trying to," I told him. "So far, we've been a step

ahead of anything they've tried."


We were stuck in a holding pattern. About all we could do

was react to any moves the Union made.

Everyone tried to conduct "business as usual" but there was a

dark cloud hanging over all of us. Eric and I tried to keep

busy.

"When was the last time you were out at the LR plant?" he

asked.

"Right after they moved in," I answered.

"You wouldn't recognize it now, want to take a look?"

I agreed and Eric wanted to take Warren along.

The building looked the same from the outside, but the inside

sure didn't. Originally, the Micron equipment had seemed

"lost" in the cavernous space, now, there wasn't a square

inch of floorspace that wasn't utilized. It was full.

Eric showed me how certain sections of production equipment

were "dedicated" to various customers. My guess was that

only about a third was dedicated to Micron. I pulled Eric

aside. "What're you going to do when Micron introduces

Spence's stuff?"

"We expand," he said innocently.

"Not here, that's for damned sure," I told him. "How soon do

you expect THAT to hit us?"

"The latest I have is that they'll roll it out in about a

year and a half. Warren doesn't know anything about it, yet."

"You'd better start planning now if you're going to be

ready," I warned.

"Why do you think I drug you out here?" he teased me. "I

thought we could tell Warren together."

On the way back to the office, Warren had a surprise of his

own. "We're building quite a reputation," he said. "We

don't have to 'sell' any more, customers are coming to us.

In fact, we're having to turn a lot of them away."

"Software?" I asked.

"A lot of that, but there are two other things that have come

up," Warren said. "Music CD's and DVD's."

"But we don't have the equipment to make those, do we?" Eric

asked.

"Not yet," Warren said, "I've been waiting to talk to you

guys about this."

"Can we make any money at it?" Eric asked.

"Oooooh yeah," Warren said. "I want to show you the numbers

when we get back to the office."

"We've got some news for you, too," Eric told him.

"Let's talk about the CD's and DVD's first," Eric suggested

when we were settled in his office.

"Here's where we stand right now," Warren explained. "One of

the biggest record labels came to us with an offer to turn

over all their CD production to us. They're using somebody

else now, but aren't very happy with them.

"Price isn't the primary consideration, meeting deadlines is.

With our reputation for service, they want to give us a shot

at it. Not all their production at once, but gradually.

Start slow, give us a chance to get the hang of it, then

increase volume as we're able to handle it.

"The production, actually copying, process is very much like

software, but much simpler and much faster."

"Can we make any money at it?" Eric asked again.

"Our production people have checked out the competition and

the equipment they're using, and feel that we can do a lot

better than they're doing. The gross profit per unit is much

lower than software, but the volume's enormous by comparison.

"On the basis of what we feel we can do and the price we're

able to charge, we're looking at a seven month payback on the

equipment investment."

Eric looked at me and nodded. I nodded back.

"What's the projected investment?" I asked.

"We can get a good start with around $12 million," Warren

said. "Over a period of two years, or sooner, just to

completely handle this one account, equipment would run us a

little over $100 million."

"Will the Record Company give us a commitment to cover our

asses?" Eric asked.

"That's what they've already offered," Warren said. "Same

arrangement on the DVD's. The two companies are affiliated.

"There's one more thing," Warren continued, "this is just for

the U.S. They'd really like us to eventually take over

production for them worldwide. The sooner the better. I

look at this as an opportunity to become the kingpins of

'Digital' production - worldwide. This'd also be a hedge

against the possibility of Micron ever leaving us."

"I wouldn't worry about that ever happening," Eric chuckled.

"What I'm going to tell you about Micron, right now, is so

hot it can't leave this room."

"Must be big," Warren commented.

"It's going to be the biggest thing to ever hit the

industry," Eric said. "I can't give you details, mainly

because I don't fully understand them myself, but Micron's

putting the finishing touches on a new operating system

that'll blow everybody else out of the water.

"Release hasn't been scheduled yet, but I'd figure on around

a year and a half from now. We're going to have to at least

double our capacity to handle that, not to mention the

related software that they'll be introducing at the same

time."

Warren looked very pensive, but excited. "May I ask how

you've managed to find out all about this?"

"For now, let's just say that I've been heavily involved in

the project," Eric said evasively.

"Can we rely on this actually happening?" Warren asked.

"With about 95% certainty," Eric told him. "We have a lot of

long range planning to do."

"May I make a suggestion?" I asked.

They both gave me their full attention.

"The CD's and DVD's sound very interesting, and I think we

should pursue that, and I like the idea of getting our 'feet

wet' before we jump in all the way. The first problem I see

is where in the hell are you going to do it? You're outta

space right now, and you're going to need a lot more for

Micron. Why not project your ultimate requirements for

everything and use that as a starting point.

"Work up a timetable so we could build in phases, as needed.

You're also going to have to find some land someplace and

take a hard look at the labor market. This thing could

'snowball'. As soon as we get a little experience, and prove

that we can make a buck, we need to take a hard look at the

rest of the world, not only for CD's but software too."

"I'm certainly agreeable to that," Warren said. "I'll put it

all on paper for you to look at."

"Make it short," Eric laughed. "Dave's got a short attention

span."


"We'll see about that," I said on the way home.

"What?" Eric asked.

"My attention span. I'll show you 'attention span'. Prepare

to suffer, baby. I won't say what or when, and it'll happen

when you least expect it," I told him gleefully.


"They never knew what hit 'em," Bob said, telling us about

overnight events.

The mob-owned adult "Megasite" had posted the tape of Eric

and me. Within hours, the whole site had disappeared.

"What'd we do?" Eric wanted to know.

"I don't know the details," Bob said, "and I really don't

want to. You don't need to know either, and it's best if you

don't."

"Can't they rebuild?" Eric asked.

"Oh sure, but it's going to take quite a little bit of time,"

Bob answered. "Our 'boys' threw in a kicker, too, that'll

keep 'em busy for a few weeks," he added with an evil grin.

"They got into the site's membership records and billed all

the members' credit cards. As soon as the money's collected,

it'll be electronically transferred to the American Red

Cross," he chuckled. "They won't even know about it until

it's all done, then they'll have to come up with the money to

make refunds to all their members. It'll be a helluva mess."

"Aren't we playing with fire?" I asked.

"They'll be pissed, no doubt about that," Bob said, "but

what're they going to do? I think it was kind of nice of

them to make such a hefty contribution to such a good cause!

It'll also serve as fair warning to anybody else that they're

'playing with fire', too. In reality, I think they'll go

after Rizullo rather than us."

"Have you found out how the tape got stolen in the first

place?" I asked.

"We can't nail the 'person' who took it, but we know how it

happened," Bob said. "Remember the Florist you use, Eric?

Well, our friend John Milton owns most of the franchises in

New York. Need I say more?"

Eric just shook his head. "Those goddam Miltons are

everyplace!"

"Naturally, they're not very cooperative, but we're almost

positive that's how it happened," Bob added. "We'll never be

able to prove anything, but we'll sure as hell be on guard in

the future. NOBODY goes into that apartment unescorted from

now on."

"How can Sarah be such a wonderful person and those brothers

of hers such pricks?" Eric wondered aloud.


Bob turned out to be right. From our taps, we learned that

the mob was really unhappy with Rizullo for giving them such a

hot potato, and demanded that he cover their losses on the

credit card scheme that our boys had pulled. Or else.

News traveled fast, and Rizullo's sale of the "stills" from

the tape was called off. Even the sleaze rags were afraid

of retaliation.

Tony was so busy covering his own ass that he neglected Union

business. We'd expected a heavy, nasty campaign before the

election, but it became a half-hearted effort at best. With a

total absence of leadership, Union supporters turned on him.

The mob was putting heavy pressure on Tony, threatening

vigorish at the rate of 10% - per week.

In desperation, Tony turned to Edward Milton.

By now, our surveillance team had one of the waiters from the

restaurant where Tony and Edward met on the payroll. The

waiter seated them at a table that had been bugged, and we

got complete transcripts of their conversation.

From the bugs in Edward's house, we also got insight into

Edward's thinking as a result of his conversations with his

brother.

To be continued.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I appreciate hearing your comments on the

story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer -

good or not so good. Send me a message at

orrinrush@yahoo.com

Next: Chapter 49


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