The Lifeguard

By Orrin Rush (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Mar 9, 2002

Gay

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else.

Copyright c 2002 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 56

"In a word, PLASTIC," Bill said.

"What're you talking about?" I asked.

"Give me a minute to explain," he said. "Over the holidays, I got to thinking about all the stuff we buy - parts, components and so on, that go into our products.

"We produce everything that's made out of metal ourselves, either own or control the production of most everything else we use a lot of, except plastic. That's something we have absolutely NO control over, and it's now the largest item, other than steel, that we buy.

"Every product that we sell has plastic components, and we're at the complete mercy of the nine suppliers that we use."

"Is there any reason to believe that they won't continue to supply us?" I asked.

"Quite frankly, yes," he said. "The first thing to come up was when a couple of our smaller suppliers refused to accept additional business. They said that they were uncomfortable with Metalco taking such a high percentage of their total output, and wouldn't accept any more from us until they expanded. They want to 'diversify' their customer base to reduce their dependence on us. Now, it's prices."

"What's happening there?" I asked.

"Over the past six months, prices have increased an average of 10% on all the components we buy, and we've just gotten word that there's another 5% increase coming up real soon."

"If they're all doing it, isn't that collusion?" Eric asked.

"Sure, but we'd never be able to prove it," Bill said. "They all blame it on higher oil prices since just about all of their raw materials are petrochemicals."

"Can't we go to other suppliers?" Annie asked.

"Sure," Bill said. "We own all the molds, but that wouldn't solve the problem, only shift our dependence to another company that may not be as reliable as the ones we already have."

"What are you suggesting?" I asked him.

"The only way we can be absolutely safe is to control production ourselves, and I think we'd better give that some thought before we find ourselves in a corner."

"Do you think we could buy any of our suppliers?" I asked, winking at Eric.

"Maybe," he said. "Them or others. Or... we could start from scratch and build our own, more modern and efficient plant. The only problem there is nailing down a supply of raw materials. There's a shortage now, and if the Arabs keep cutting production, it's going to get worse."

"Let's explore all of our options," I suggested, "both buying and building." The germ of an idea was forming. "Can you get me a list of the raw materials we'd need if we built, and an idea of the quantities we'd need if we did it all ourselves?"

"Our Chemists provide all the specifications to our suppliers, so I can get that for you in a couple of hours," Bill said.

We all agreed that a concentrated effort needed to be made to learn a whole lot more about the Plastics business, and assignments were split up between Bill and Jeff. We'd meet again in a week.


"I know you've got something up your sleeve," Eric grinned. "Give."

"It's only logic," I told him. "Petrochemicals - Oil - Big George!"

"I see," he laughed. "When're we going to Texas?"

"Tomorrow, if we can get in to see Big George," I told him and grabbed the phone.

Big George was beaming as he led us into his office. "What kind of trouble are you boys stirrin' up today?" he laughed.

"We're trying to stay OUT of trouble, for a change," I told him.

"What's goin' on, men?" he asked when we were seated around his desk.

"We're looking for some petrochemicals, and where else would we go? We're thinking of going into the plastics business."

"Now why would you want to do that?" he asked.

"We use a lot of injection-molded components in all our products, and we don't like being dependent on others. Particularly when they're playing games with us. I've got a list here of what we're going to need," I told him.

"I already have a pretty good idea," he said, and literally read us the list.

"They're all refinery by-products," he said. "Used to be we couldn't give 'em away, now everybody wants 'em. How much volume we talkin?"

I read off the estimates Bill had given me.

"You all're talkin some major money here," he observed.

"I honestly have no idea," I admitted. "I do know that we're spending around $4 billion a year for components."

"How long do you figger it'll take to get set up?" he asked.

"We're working on that right now. I'd guess it's going to take a year, at least."

"How're you going to keep it quiet that long? The minute you start ordering equipment, the whole world's gonna know."

"Maybe not," Eric added. "Most of the equipment's made by Koenigsburg in Germany, and Hans Koenigsburg might soon become Dave's son-in law."

"You sly devil," he said to me. "Got all the bases covered! Which one, Annie or Tina?"

"Annie," I told him, "and it certainly wasn't planned. Just turned out that way."

"Just a minute," he said and grabbed his phone. He talked and we both tried to act like we couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Looks like I might could help y'all, but we may have a time problem. One of my refineries in Louisiana has contracts for that stuff coming up for renewal in about seven months. The question is... what do we do with the stuff between then and the time you're ready for it? That's something we're going to have to work on."

"Would you be able to supply everything we need?" I asked.

"Purdy much, and I'm sure I could hit up a few of my buddies for the rest," he said. "Something you may not know," he added, "is that the stuff we sell you has to be processed before you can use it. I've been thinking of setting up to do that myself, and this'd be as good a time as any.

"How long a contract do you want?" he continued.

"As long as you'll give us," I said. "How about 20 years with all the usual adjustments and a rollover option?"

"Sounds damned good to me," he said, "assuming your credit's any good," then burst out laughing.

Big George took us to the "Top of the World" club for lunch. It was evidently the hangout of Dallas's Oil Barons. As we walked through the room, Big George stopped at just about every table, joking with his buddies and introducing us. We already knew quite a few from Claire's hoedowns.

At our booth, Big George ordered us all "Bourbon and Branch", and business talk resumed. "One thing you don't have to worry about is whether or not them Arabs cut production. All the feedstock for that refinery comes from mah own wells off the coast. Figger I got 'bout 300 years' worth," he laughed. "Where you boys gonna set up?"

"We don't know yet," I told him. "This whole thing only came up yesterday!"

"Damn! you boys don't fart around! I like that!"

"Now, we're really going to have to go to work," Eric said, "this is just the beginning."

"Take a look at Louisiana," he suggested. "They're mighty friendly and, come to think of it, I've got a couple hundred acres fairly close to the refinery that I'd sell ya real cheap. We could pipe that resin directly to you and save a few bucks in transportation."

"We'll definitely look at it," I told him.

When our drinks came, George hoisted his glass "Here's to a $30 billion deal between friends," he toasted. "When we takin' that cruise?"


Annie was home when we rolled in, so I talked to her about what we'd learned that day. I also told her that Hans' Company made the molding machines that we'd be needing, and that I'd like to talk to him about deliveries. She gave me all of his numbers and the best time to call, which was early morning.

The following morning we all got together again. Bill and Jeff didn't have much to report except that our current suppliers' price increases were totally out of proportion to the price of oil. They also had ruled out four of them as possible buyout candidates because they were divisions of mammoth chemical companies and we were not their largest customers.

"I'm not so sure we'd be interested in the other five," Jeff said. "Their plants are old, inefficient, and would require major refurbishing to meet our standards."

"Then maybe we should take a hard look at starting from scratch," I said.

"But, can we get raw materials?" Bill wanted to know.

"I think so," I told him and winked at Eric. "We can lock in a 20-year supply right now, but there's a time limitation. We have to be ready to start taking deliveries in a year or less. That means we've either gotta work fast or build some huge storage facilities.

"I also talked to Koenigsburg this morning. I didn't have much to go on, but they can start deliveries in six months if we tell them what we want within a few weeks."

"Aren't we getting ahead of ourselves here?" Bill asked. "We don't have any idea what we're going to need or where we're going to put it."

"Can't we work backward?" Eric suggested. "We know the products we're going to need to produce, so we get the equipment we'll need to accomplish that."

"I'm real sorry to say this, but we're NOT going to build in California," I said, getting very surprised looks from everyone. "It seems to me that the climate here is becoming more and more unfriendly to business. This energy mess is the last straw."

"Where do you suggest we go?" Jeff asked.

"Regardless of where we go, we're going to have to move product around the country," I said, "and I believe it'd be more efficient and economical to build one large plant rather than several smaller regional ones. We're offering clean industry and a lot of jobs, so I'm sure there are a lot of places that'd welcome us and not tax the hell out of us like California does."

"Then, I take it that you've decided to go ahead?" Bill asked.

"Isn't it inevitable?" I asked. "Our goal over the years has been to be fully integrated. Our needs have changed and now we NEED to have control of this component that goes into everything we make. We have the best production people around, and I believe that we'll be able to produce this stuff for less than we've been paying for it. Our suppliers have been making money or they wouldn't still be around, and I'm sure we can do as well or better."

"That brings up the question of what do we do with our current suppliers," Bill said.

"I've been thinking about that," I told him. "We can try to keep what we're doing quiet, then rip the rug out from under them when we're ready, or... we can level with them now and give them a chance to find other customers and make an orderly transition. I like the second idea, but we'd better have all our 'ducks in a row' before we say anything."

"And we have no idea whatsoever what all this is going to cost," Bill said, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Nope," I told him, "maybe we ought to get to work on that too."

"If we get everybody working on it, we should be able to come up with some ballpark figures in a week or two," Bill said. "We can get some others working on a site, and others working on the facilities that we'll need."

"I realize that we're 'flying blind' at the moment," I said, "but I'm confident we can pull this all together in a short time."


"We may have another timing problem," I told Eric.

"What's that, babe?"

"The kids," I said. "Tina and Rick are getting married in May. Annie is going to Germany in February, and just might announce her engagement to Hans."

"What's the problem?"

"I don't want anybody or anything to steal the spotlight from Tina and Rick. If Annie and Hans get engaged, it's going to be a major event because of WHO they are, and I don't want that to interfere with Tina and Rick. Their wedding will be a major event too, but I don't want it overshadowed."

"Have you talked to Annie?"

"Not yet, I wanted to get your slant first, partner," I said, grinning.

"I don't think Annie'd have any problem with waiting until after the wedding," he said. "Her engagement may not happen that fast anyway, but I'd let her know how you feel."

"I'll do that."

"By the way, I've been talking to Rick, giving him some insight on how you 'operate'," he said. "I think he's beginning to understand that you're not a manipulator, just a nice, generous guy."

"I just want to give them a head-start. Tina could do it herself, but I think Rick would resent that even more."

"It'll take him a while, just like it did me," he said.

I talked with Annie about my concerns. She understood and agreed. If Hans did propose, they'd wait until June to announce it formally.

I also had a long talk with Tina. Wedding plans were well underway. It would be a church wedding then a reception on the back forty.

"I'm really sorry Mom can't be involved," she said, "but I just don't trust her. It's a damned shame, but this is going to be MY day, and I'm not taking any chances."

"What have you told her?" I asked.

"That I'm engaged, but not when the wedding is going to be."

"She'll have to be here," I warned. "Have you thought about talking with her, explaining the situation?"

"I'd have to tell her that I'm making all the arrangements myself," she said. "If she found out that Sarah's helping me, she'd go ballistic!"

"Handle it however you feel best," I told her. "It's your decision, and whatever you decide, I'm behind you."

"She's not going to make it easy - for any of us."

"How's Rick coming along about the house?" I asked.

"Better than you think," she giggled. "He's working on the plans and we've found a lot that we love."

"Somebody better nail down the lot," I suggested.

"I have," she giggled, "quietly."


I was in regular contact with Big George. He was working feverishly too, planning the processing plant that he wanted to build. In one conversation he announced "I've got good news for you and bad news for me.

"It's going to take me at least a year and a half to get my plant on stream, so that'll give you a little breathing room," he continued. "Now, all I have to do is figure out what to do with the raw resins in the meantime."

"Would your present customers take them?"

"Don't know yet. I'm not even going to mention it until you and I have a firm deal."

"Our guys are working around the clock," I assured him. "We should be able to give you a hard answer in another week."

They were. Bill and Jeff had set up teams, one was working on equipment, another on facilities, another on a site, and another preparing production and profitability analyses.

They gave Eric and me daily progress reports. They were still working on the 12-month timeframe. The only one I'd told about Big George's problem was Eric. We'd need the extra time in any event. A project like this never went off according to plan.

A list of required equipment was the first to be completed. Even though our engineers had opted for the most automated equipment available, the total cost was less than I expected.

The site group had it narrowed down to Louisiana and Mississippi. The transportation savings were making their decision lean toward Louisiana.

Finally, we had it all together. Our total outlay would be less than $1 billion, with a five-year payout.

The decision was made to go ahead. All this had taken just about three weeks. When I told everyone that we actually had a year and a half to be up and running, there was a major sigh of relief, but I reminded them that the pressure WASN'T off!

I called Big George. "Get the papers ready," I told him. "As far as we're concerned, it's a deal."

He was delighted, and we agreed to keep it quiet until he had a chance to talk to his old customers and we talked to our suppliers. We were to meet in Dallas in two weeks, and he invited us to spend the weekend.


Bill volunteered to talk to our current plastic suppliers. They were scattered around the country, and he was taking our Manager of Purchasing with him as well as the buyers who dealt with them. I was damned glad it was him instead of me making the trip.

They made a whirlwind trip and came back with fairly good news. Our suppliers appreciated that they were being given 18 months' notice, but all wanted price increases. Bill agreed to that, but refused to agree to some of their demands to "shut us off", without notice, whenever they were able to find other customers. They had already accepted orders from us covering the next twelve months, and he demanded that those be filled. To avoid lawsuits, they capitulated.

Others were more cooperative, even agreeing to accept larger orders during the last six months and beyond that if needed. Overall, Bill and I felt that we wouldn't be too badly crippled during the changeover, but this increased the pressure on both Big George and us to move full speed ahead.


We left Friday morning for Dallas. On Sunday, we'd continue on to New York to check on the Restaurant's progress.

Up until now, we'd dealt strictly with Big George himself. This time, a whole herd of his executives were present. We were introduced around, and then they made a big deal out of the actual signing of the contracts.

The last item to be signed was a Press Release. I handed Eric a copy then read it over carefully myself. It was brief and to the point. Metalco had agreed to purchase $30 billion worth of petrochemicals from Matheison Petroleum. Let the newspapers take it from there.

Big George had his own release to accompany that one which outlined his construction of a chemical plant in Louisiana, and we added ours which told of our plans.

An Email would go out to all Metalco and Hydra employees that afternoon, giving them the news before they read it in the papers.

Once everything was signed and the pictures taken, we went back to Big George's office. "I'm just a nosy old bastard, and tell me if this is none of my business, but how come Eric wasn't a signer on those contracts?" he asked.

"That's easy," Eric said with a grin. "Metalco belongs to Dave. Lundborg Rush and Hydra, which includes Lovebird, the Railroad and the Development Company, is 'community property'."

This brought a roar of laughter from Big George. "I like the way you put that! What's Lundborg Rush? Never heard of it."

"It's a company we set up a year or so ago," Eric explained. "Hi-Tech. We produce software for Micron and quite a few others."

"Knowin' you guys, it'll be the biggest in the business in a year or two," he said.

"That's our intention," Eric told him.

"I've been doin' some thinking about this Louisiana thing," Big George continued, "we may have a lot of synergy if we work together. Here's just one idea: My refinery produces a little Natural Gas. What we don't use ourselves isn't enough to make it feasable to pipe to a market, so we flare it off. But you boys, bein' just down the road, might be able to use it to produce your own electricity."

"Would it be enough to power our whole plant?" I asked.

"Maybe not all of it, but I'd guess most of it," he said. "Definitely worth looking into because I'd sell it to you real cheap. It'd be 'Found money' for me."

"We'll definitely look into it," I assured him.


Although Big George and Claire had invited us to stay with them, we decided to stay at one of our hotels. We liked our privacy. We were, however, going to their house for dinner that evening.

It was like another "homecoming". The rest of the "Texas Widows" and their husbands were all there, but it certainly wasn't a hoedown. Very formal. Cocktails in an enormous salon, dinner in a chandeliered dining room, then all the Gentlemen went to Big George's study for Brandy and cigars.

Business had not been discussed until we got to the study, then all the Texas guys wanted to know if the rumors they'd heard were true, that Big George and I had a big deal cooking.

"No big secret anymore," he told them, "be in tomorrow's paper. Old Dave here just bought $30 billion worth of my oil."

The details were discussed. Big George seemed to be pleased as punch over the whole transaction, telling them how easy we were to deal with, and how he was himself spending a lot of money to build a conversion plant, and that our plastics plant would be just "down the road" and his resins would be pumped or conveyed directly to us.

All of these guys were in the Oil business in one way or another, and several told us that if Big George couldn't meet our needs, they'd be happy to do so. That was nice to hear. Now we had backup.

When we rejoined the ladies, all they had on their minds was another cruise. They didn't care where or when, just that we went on another one.

"You wanna go?" Eric asked me quietly.

"It's up to you," I told him. "It might be fun, but not before September."

Several destinations were discussed, but there was no consensus, so Eric suggested that he put our Travel Agent Dan to work which was agreeable to everyone. All the husbands made it real clear that they wanted to go too. I wasn't so sure about that.


I must have misunderstood Big George. I thought we were invited "for the weekend", but when we learned that nothing was planned for Saturday, that obviously wasn't the case, so we packed up and headed for New York.

En route, Eric called Maurice to let him know that we'd be in early and asked if he wanted to get together that evening. They'd be waiting at the Penthouse when we arrived.

We weren't even allowed to sit down. Maurice and Philippe had us in a taxi and headed for the restaurant before we had a chance. Mark and Brucie would meet us there.

The building looked the same from the outside. The only change was a covered walkway from the building to the curb with "MAURICE" stenciled on it. When we walked up the steps, it was a different story. The room didn't look anything like the last time we'd seen it.

I walked inside and looked around. The place had been transformed. The peeling paint was gone, the wonderful woodwork on the columns, walls and ceiling had been stripped and repainted a soft off-white. The floor was covered with a patterned carpet in various shades of dark red and marroon.

It was dusk and all the lights were on. Sparkling crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and gold-finished sconces shot light upward on the walls and accented the fluted columns. The paned windows out to the street sparkled. The overall effect was starkly elegant but still warm and inviting.

The room seemed a little smaller than before, then I saw that the back wall had been brought out several feet. Only half of the room was furnished with tables and chairs. Tables were mostly round, a few square, functional, and the chairs were dark wood upholstered in a cream fabric.

While I was gaping, Eric was standing with Brucie and Mark who were both excitedly talking at the same time. I joined them and gave Brucie a hug and congratulations on a job beautifully done. He almost purred, and wanted to know if I REALLY liked it.

Maurice had me by the arm. "Come," he said. "You have to see the kitchen of my dreams!" He led me back and through the doors. Eric and the others followed. All I could see was the shine of stainless steel. There were the biggest goddam stoves I've ever seen, some with eight or ten gas burners! There were ovens, broilers and a lot of stuff I had never seen before. Maurice was trying to explain how it all worked, but mostly raved about how wonderful it all was.

I noticed that all of the small appliances were made by Metalco, and that a lot of the cookware was Metalco's Excilar coated. "These are the best," Maurice said, pointing to an Excilar coated saute pan. "Now, if you'd only design them for COOKS!"

There were banks of refrigerators and freezers, as well as walk-in boxes. The dishwashing area was flanked by shelving holding dishes and glassware of every conceivable kind.

I expected a huge wine cellar, but this one was rather small. "We're going to offer a small selection of only the very best," Maurice explained.

There were two service bars, well stocked. I'd recognized something missing but hadn't figured out "what" until I saw these. There was no "Bar" as such. I asked Maurice about this and he explained that this would be a place to EAT, not a place where the focus was on booze.

Once the "Official" tour was over, Eric and I wandered off by ourselves to have another look, comparing notes on our observations. We agreed that we couldn't find anything that we didn't like. It had been designed by professionals and the results were spectacular.


Maurice insisted that we all come back to his apartment for dinner and "talk". There was no way that either of us would pass up one of Maurice's home cooked meals!

It quickly turned into a business meeting among the five of us while Philippe worked in the kitchen. Bruce led off, telling us that the rest of the furniture would arrive the next week, and his work, except for touch-ups, would be complete.

Mark then told us that since the place was ready, he and Maurice had decided to open a month early, March 15th instead of the end of April and that he was recruiting personnel now.

Maurice, totally agreeing, said that he had already hired all of his kitchen staff, and was anxious to get started.

Mark, it appeared, was also a good PR man. He'd "leaked" the opening date, and the restaurant was already fully booked through April. He also told us that he'd like to have a high-profile Charity Event for Opening Night, followed by an invitation-only Grand Opening.

Eric jumped in with an offer to help with the Charity event, and we all agreed that the Grand opening was a good idea.

"It's wonderful working with someone who isn't constantly screaming at me to cut corners," Maurice said, giving Mark a playful jab. "I think that this's going to be the most successful restaurant in New York."

"I think you've been very reasonable... so far," Mark added.

Mark's partner joined us, about Mark's age, quite goodlooking and as affable as Mark.

When Brucie's "boyfriend" showed up, I got the surprise of my life. Joey was the butchest stud I'd seen in a long time, and a real hunk to boot.


"Make you a bet," I told Eric. "Within a year, those guys are going to want to open another restaurant, then another..."

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least," he said. "I'd be all for it if the quality didn't suffer, and I don't think Maurice'd stand for that."

Eric spent the next morning with Sarah and I went out to the plant in New Jersey. Hopefully, the "old" plant would soon move into a new building. Bob and I checked out progress. If the new plant that they'd recently moved into was huge, this one was gargantuan. Acres and acres of concrete floors had been poured, and the building's skeleton was going up. Bob estimated that they'd be moved in by Fall.

With all Annie was involved in, I wondered if she was still interested in making a Shopping Mall out of the old factory.

When I got home, Eric and Sarah were conferring with Mark in the den. They asked me to join them. "You didn't say a word about this restaurant of yours," she chided me.

"It was just in the planning stage the last time we were here," I told her.

They went back to planning. Just listening, I learned that Sarah would sponsor the charity fete, 400 guests at $1,000 per plate. Mark would provide the food, wine and service at cost. One of Sarah's pet projects would make a bundle and Mark would definitely get the publicity he wanted.

They had already checked out the place, and Sarah had nothing but praise for the job Bruce had done. "In my humble opinion," she said, "there's only one thing missing. You need some Art on that back wall."

"We thought about that," Mark told her. "Posters just wouldn't cut it, and we didn't want to spend the amount of money necessary to buy 'appropriate' paintings to go up there, so we left it bare."

"I just may be able to help you," Sarah said, smiling. Oh shit, I thought, what's she going to do now?

"Have you heard of Brad Jacoby?" she asked Mark.

"Isn't he the hot young artist who's in all the papers?"

"Yes, that's him. Eric 'discovered' him, and I'm very sure that Eric and I could talk him into hanging several of his paintings there. They'd be on display and rotated as they sold. Are you interested?"

"That would be fantastic!" Mark bubbled, "but I'd want to get Bruce's approval before I made a commitment."

"Let me know, and I'll take care of it," Sarah said. I looked over at Eric who was just shaking his head. Leave it to Sarah!


When we got home, Annie was getting ready for her trip to Germany. She wanted to fly commercial, but I insisted that she take the Gulfstream. Make an entrance!

Tina would be taking over Annie's responsibilities while she was gone, and when I talked to her about the additional workload, she wasn't concerned. "Annie and I have been watching how you and Eric 'operate'," she told me. "We're getting pretty good at delegating ourselves. You and Eric are around to help me if I need it, too."

I asked her how the "house" was coming along. At this she giggled. "Rick's spending all his spare time on the plans," she reported. "He's accepted your offer, but I think he wants to play 'Hard to get' for a while, not give in too fast. We'll let you know, officially, one of these days soon. We're planning to rent a condo until it gets built."

The subject changed to wedding plans. She assured me that everything was under control. She and Sarah had worked up a checklist, and she was following it. The "Georgia" issue hadn't been settled, but Tina planned to stop off in Indianappolis on her next trip East to try to work something out.

"Just don't forget that Eric and I'll be in Egypt most of April," I reminded her.


I noticed that Eric was doing a lot more reading than usual, mostly about Egypt. "I'm trying to learn as much as I can before we go," he told me.

"May I make a suggestion?" I asked.

"Sure, babe."

"Don't try to learn it all now. You already have a good background, and on your first trip there, you'll be so overwhelmed by what you're seeing that details won't matter. After you've seen everything, you'll know what you're interested in and can learn more then. Don't ever think that this is the only trip to Egypt we'll be making."

"That makes sense," he said.

"That's what happened to me on my first trip," I told him.

We talked about the places he wanted to see, starting an itinerary. "We'll see them all," I assured him. "I just want to be in Luxor on the 14th."

"Why?"

"That's our anniversary, and that's where the 'Holy of Holies' is located, in the Temple of Karnak."

He was thoughtful for a few moments, then asked sheepishly "Do you think there's any chance we could re-enact the Pharaoh's ritual, in the place where it originally took place?"

"I'm planning on it," I told him, grinning.

"Ohmigawd, really?" he asked as he pounced on me.

"I have friends over there who should be able to arrange it."

"Now I'm really getting excited!" he said. "You'll be the Pharaoh this time, no arguments!"

"Get out your oils," I chuckled at him, "and something to prop me up."


"I believe that getting into Plastics is going to prove to be one of the smartest moves we've ever made," Bill declared. "It's more than just having control over our supply, it's going to change our way of thinking."

"How?" I asked.

"We've always been focused on 'Metal', making every part we could out of metal since that was our business. Possibly that same part could be molded out of plastic cheaper and faster and end up making a better product.

"That very well may be true," I said, "but we're a helluva long way from actually being in the plastics business. I have a strange feeling that we're going to have some problems before there's smooth sailing.

"Eric and I know Big George socially, but I really don't know that much about his background. I'm sure you checked him out thoroughly?" I continued.

"The usual," Bill said, "credit checks, a little nosing around about his reputation. Everything we found out showed that he's just what he says he is, and he's got a sterling reputation."

"Would you do me a favor and dig a LOT deeper? I want to know as much as you can find out about his finances, his oil wells - where they are, how much they pump, and his refineries too. I'd like to know just about everything there IS to know about him. A whole dossier, so to speak."

"I'll get somebody to do that," Bill said. "It'll take a little while if we're thorough, and I know that's what you want."

"There may be a few others who I'll need dossiers on too," I added. "I'll try to get their names for you sometime today."

I wandered down to Eric's office. "Do you remember the conversation we had in Big George's study the other night?" I asked.

"Pretty well," he answered. "Why?"

"Do you remember those other guys who offered to help supply our resins if Big George couldn't?"

"Uh huh."

"Do you happen to remember their names?"

He thought a minute then started rattling off names. "Whoa," I said, "can you go a little slower so I can write them down?"

He repeated, I scribbled.

"Thank God one of us can remember names! Thanks, babe."

"Now you've got me curious," he said. "Why are you interested?"

"It's just a gut feeling," I told him. "Maybe it's because I'm still pissed about the way we were 'dismissed' in Dallas, but I want to do some digging into that whole crew."

"You were pissed too? You didn't say anything," he said.

"I didn't want to make an issue over it. In my way of thinking, it was sure as hell a snub, something I don't get over in a hurry. At first, I wanted to think it was a misunderstanding, but the more I thought about it, I remembered that he specifically said 'for the weekend' on several occasions."

"I wonder what happened?" he asked. "I was a little more than furious myself. Let me know what you find out."

I had put a hold on anything beyond surveying at the Louisiana plant site until we completed our "check" on Big George. Bill and I talked about it a lot, and every time, we came up with something else to check out. By now, he was getting nervous too. Legal was going over our contract literally word by word, and had found several ways we could get out of it. That would be a last resort.


Annie was ready to go. She did her best to seem nonchalant about the whole thing, but her excitement couldn't be hidden. From what Tina told us, Annie packed and unpacked several times before she was happy with the wardrobe she was taking - just about everything she owned, I guessed.

Before we left for the airport, I went over the essentials with her, money, credit cards, passport, satellite phone with 220 charger, and anything else I could think of. She had them all.

Eric and I drove her, and her luggage, to the airport. There would be three pilots and a steward on board, and the flight was timed to arrive in mid-morning in Germany.

We all hugged, then they were off.


Waiting is stressful, and with Annie gone, and Tina at Rick's, we had some privacy and the hot tub helped relieve it. Without bubbles, we could talk...and play. I loved to sit on Eric's lap, impaled, and let my internal muscles do all the work. It felt sensational to me, and Eric liked it too, not moving at all until he was close, then banging the hell out of me, bringing me off too.

We'd switch off, him sitting on my lap, but he preferred to face me so we could kiss. After that, we slept like babies.


As we took a harder look at the Louisiana location for our plant, more and more negative aspects were cropping up. The labor market was tight, and there wasn't much to draw people to the area.

Transportation was another drawback. We'd be shipping all of our product out by truck, and the roads would definitely require improvement for the amount of traffic we contemplated.

When information started coming in on our potential "backup" suppliers, all of their wells and refineries were in the strip between Houston and Beaumont, in Texas, where there was a ready labor market and good transportation.

The first comprehensive "dossier" to come in was on Billy Griggs. He'd inherited his Oil Company, consisting of many wells and a medium-sized refinery. He also had a conversion facility that turned out the resins we needed, but only about 25% of what we would need if we took his entire production.

On the financial side, his personal net worth was conservatively estimated to be around $600 million, with virtually no debt.

Reports on the other four were very similar. Some were bigger, some smaller, and all were strong financially and had excellent reputations as businessmen. Between the five, our requirements were covered almost double.

Before we made any changes of plans, I wanted to see the report on Big George. When Bill brought it in, it was far from complete. All the numbers were "estimated" and even those were footnoted as "guesses".

"This isn't near good enough," I told Bill. "We're about to stake our future on somebody we know nothing about, and I don't think that's such a great idea. We'd actually be in a weaker position than we were before."

"This is all we could come up with," Bill apologised.

"Have you used every source, including our 'hackers'?" I asked.

"Yes, and we couldn't get in. They're tight, and if our guys can't get in, nobody can."

"I'd like a list of everybody else in the country who produces these resins, where they're located, and an estimate on their production volume," I requested.

"I'm starting to get scared," Bill admitted. "Why the secrecy?"

"I don't know," I said. "We may find ourselves in one helluva corner."

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

Also, any story ideas would be welcome.

Next: Chapter 57


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate