Shattered Legacy
Authors: Shane R. Daley
Tags: #Mystery, #Hard Science Fiction, #High Tech, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Space Exploration, #Technothrillers, #Thriller & Suspense, #Science Fiction, #Thrillers, #Literature & Fiction
SHATTERED LEGACY
By Shane R. Daley
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
SHATTERED LEGACY
By Shane R. Daley
All Rights Reserved
Copyright© 2012
First Ebook Edition
For Carol, Nathaniel and Katherine.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
MONDAY
(AP) With only a day before the historic launch of the space orbiter Naiad, Templar Enterprises announces that it has successfully completed the testing of a new, advanced scramjet thruster. Agency Director Jack Kroft expects the improved engine “to be incorporated into Templar’s second-generation orbiter, with a possible retrofit in store for the Naiad.” - Entrepreneur W. Sinclair Dorian makes his first public statement in months. In a brief telephone interview with CNN, he states that he “looks forward to the launch and joining his employees for the historic event.” - To secure future market share against Templar Enterprises' fleet of low-cost orbiters, the European Space Agency plans to cut its launch prices for satellite payloads by nearly a third.
CHAPTER ONE
“You’re going to crater the deal, aren’t you?”
A hint of a smile crossed Samson Tyler’s face. He kept walking at a brisk pace, eyes forward.
“You really got the stones to do it?” The question was asked in hushed tones as they approached the double-doors of the executive conference room.
“I’m not sure,” Tyler replied.
“Not like you to play it fast and loose.”
Tyler reached for the door handle. “Sometimes you just have to improvise, Dusty. Keep your eyes open and follow my lead.”
No one noticed as Tyler walked through the doorway. Briefcase in hand, he paused and watched four dark-suited attorneys engaged in quiet conversation before a large picture window, ignoring the view of the Midtown skyscrapers behind them. Two other attorneys stood a few paces away, heads bowed, with cell phones pressed to their ears.
Tyler glanced back as his companions followed him inside. The first was a middle-aged, heavyset man dressed in a rumpled blue suit. Behind him was a woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a crisp black and red pantsuit. The three glanced around the conference room. The walls, decorated with large, bland watercolor paintings, were a dark maroon with gold molding.
F. Maybry Lydell, senior partner of Bryce, Holloway, first spotted the visitors. Tall and hawk-faced, Lydell wore an expensive and exquisitely tailored blue suit. He stared down his nose with a mix of amusement and contempt, but as the visitors crossed the plush gray carpeting, his face cracked into a stunning white smile. As he cleared his throat, his associates broke conversation and scurried to their places around an oval mahogany table that dominated the center of the room.
Tall stacks of papers were arranged before each leather-backed chair. Tyler set his briefcase on the table as his companions took their places beside him. He remained standing behind his seat. Though his demeanor betrayed no emotion, nothing could hide the evident youth of Templar Enterprises' General Counsel. Trim and fresh-faced, he looked more like a well-dressed junior associate newly minted from law school than a seasoned corporate attorney.
The secretary assigned to take the minutes entered the room and took her place in the corner.
Lydell came around the table with long strides. He favored the younger man with an ingratiating smile.
“Mr. Tyler, I was surprised you wanted to meet today, what with your company’s launch and all.” His voice was smooth and soothing.
Tyler smiled back. “Fortunately, I’m not an astronaut, so I have time to take care of our more down-to-earth matters.”
“Of course.” Lydell grasped Tyler’s outstretched hand with both of his own, a signal that the older attorney intended to be the dominant figure at this meeting.
Tyler ignored that signal.
“Thank you for bumping up the meeting time,” Tyler said as he settled into his seat. He ran his hand through his dark hair and added, “You really didn’t need your whole team for this.”
Lydell's smile faded a bit as he took his own place directly across the table.
The woman seated to Tyler’s left was Denise Jenison, the newest associate in Templar’s legal department. Her brown hair was cut in a short bob. She appeared uncomfortable as she looked around the table.
To Tyler's right, Dustin “Dusty” O’Dell, Templar’s Assistant General Counsel, reclined in his chair, clasping his hands over his thick gut. A mass of curly red-brown hair topped his head. His eyes were thick-lidded and serene as he appraised the Bryce, Holloway attorneys.
After a few moments, he glanced over at Tyler, who nodded back slowly. Dusty sighed as he leaned forward and picked up his copy of the twenty-seven-page contract. He flipped through a few pages.
“Prime industrial area.” His voice was slow, with only a hint of his native Georgian drawl. “Good location, good local infrastructure. Surprising that Penraxis is willing to part with it for such a reasonable price. Guess we drove a hard bargain, didn’t we?”
The attorneys on the other side of the table sat impassively.
Tyler folded his hands on the table and directed his attention to Lydell. “Since our last discussion, I believe we’ve ironed out the final details of the purchasing contract.”
Lydell nodded slowly. “We're all ready to sign.”
“That's great.” Tyler smiled broadly. “It’s funny how fast these deals can wrap up, especially when they’re preceded by such painful negotiations.”
“True.” Lydell agreed. There were a few grunts from the Bryce, Holloway people. The Templar attorneys had been very particular in how they wanted the purchase agreement structured. Hammering out the contract had been a long, tedious process, with hours spent negotiating the most trivial terms.
“Thing is, polycarbonate manufacturing is one of the few things we could do better ourselves than through outsourcing. That’s why the Penraxis plant was so attractive to us.”
Lydell lifted an eyebrow.
Tyler spread his hands. “And this ‘iron-clad’ contract of ours… Well, I think it’s just about perfect.”
That last word hung in the air for several heartbeats.
Lydell pursed his lips, glanced to his right and his left. His people looked relaxed now, almost smug. Lydell reached into his breast pocket for a pen. “So, are we ready to sign?”
Tyler glanced over at Dusty, who shook his head a fraction and tapped a finger on his contract.
“There is
one
small issue,” Tyler added, as if remembering something.
Lydell paused, his hand in mid-motion.
Dusty glanced over at Denise, who was following the exchange with some confusion.
“It’s just a small concern.” Tyler looked around the table. Now he had everyone’s rapt attention. Not one Bryce, Holloway attorney was even breathing. “Turn to section three, paragraph twenty-six, second clause,” he ordered, his voice losing all pretense of humor.
Pages fluttered as the lawyers searched their contracts.
Tyler waited. “Do you see it?”
Lydell lifted his head a fraction, his face impenetrable as he snapped open his reading glasses, slipped them on, and stared down at the page. One of his associates reached over to point out the particular clause at issue. Lydell swatted the hand away.
A few moments later, Lydell peered over the rim of his glasses. “So what?”
Tyler leaned back in his chair and tossed his copy of the contract across the table. “You lied to us. The deal is off.”
Silence filled the room, but if the senior partner of Bryce, Holloway was surprised, his eyes did not show it. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the bond,” Tyler shot back. “The bond your client agreed to place on the factory. Your
client
was to guarantee that the property they were selling to us was not environmentally contaminated. Your
client
was supposed to put aside money in case there was preexisting site contamination. Another financial entity was supposed to secure that bond and hold the money in escrow.”
“And so we did.”
“No. What you
did
, at the very least, was trigger the bring-down clause of this contract.” Lydell opened his mouth to respond, but Tyler kept speaking. “Read the paragraph: ‘All of the Seller’s collective representations and warranties in this Agreement, and each of the individual representations - ’”
“That's boilerplate language, Mr. Tyler.”
“That language gives us a walk-right.”
“Only if there is a
material
misrepresentation,” Lydell snapped. “And where have we misrepresented ourselves, Mr. Tyler? What exactly is your problem with this contract?”
“My problem,” Tyler explained slowly, “is that the Penraxis Corporation possesses majority ownership in Wharton Capital.”
Denise Jenison inhaled sharply. She turned her head to Tyler, who silenced her with a raised hand.
“So what?” Lydell sneered. “So Penraxis has some interest in Wharton Capital. What’s wrong with that?”
“It's a conflict of interest, having a subsidiary secure a bond for its parent corporation.”
Lydell spread his hands. “It happens all the time. What with today's interconnected -”
“Don’t insult me, Mr. Lydell.”
The older man clenched his jaw. He shot a glance at his associates; their stricken looks seemed to infuriate him further.
The thin, balding man seated to Lydell's right sniffed. “Wharton Capital is a reputable company with more than enough financial acumen to handle -”
“Whaddayaknow?” Dusty spread his hands in feigned amazement. “These other guys can actually
speak
.”
“And here I thought they were purely decorative,” Tyler added dryly, before bring his focus back to Lydell. “Did your client think we would skip due diligence because we were dealing with the great firm of Bryce, Holloway?”
Lydell leaned back and drummed the arm of his chair with his fingers. “I don't think you understand -” he started, and then abruptly changed his tone. His face shifted toward a reasonable approximation of a smile. “Let’s talk about this, Mr. Tyler.” He nodded toward the windows. “Alone.”