The Container Affair Read online

  Malone asked Cate to sit down, and she immediately began speaking, “Mr. Malone, sir, I want to thank you for this job and every-thing  . . .”

  Malone cut her off with a hand and quickly started to talk to her in his deep voice.

  “Ms. Stanley, let me first apologize to you and through you to your colleagues. I am not good at this kind of thing, but I wanted to be of some assistance. All of you have great spunk and show the ability to work hard. Your stories moved me, and I thought back to when I was your age and how opportunities were difficult to come by. I had a couple of good breaks, so I felt you four should have one too. Now, this doesn’t mean in any way I found you work just to be nice. No, you met my HR guy, Max Benoit, and I told him that if you didn’t have merit, no way was he supposed to hire you.”

  Again, she tried to speak, but Malone raised his hand to stop her. “Let me continue for a minute, Ms. Stanley, and then you may tear into me if you wish.”

  Cate looked aggrieved at his last comment but bit her tongue and did what she was told to do.

  “Ms. Stanley, you showed Mr. Benoit that you possess a fine mind, you demonstrated a sense of urgency and courage in dealing with his questions and your first few weeks on the job were kind of a test by him, totally independent of me, to see how you would work out. He kept me informed of each person from the boat, and each of you met muster and exceeded all of his expectations.”

  He looked down at his desk for a moment and then gazed once more on the young woman seated in front of him. “Ms. Stanley, you demonstrated great leadership with your assigned programming team and provided keen insight into user-facing issues which sometimes we forget about in this business. You worked long hours and never questioned any request concerning your opinion. I urge all employees to work on the concept of trust and openness, which is the only way this company will survive.”

  Malone looked down at his desk again, and she now understood not to interrupt him. “Ms. Stanley, I want to apologize if you see subterfuge in my initiatives to give you, Tidwell, Russo and Ms. Belman positions with this company. I don’t venture out too often and thus fail to encounter young people with both ideas and mettle. You’re all doing a splendid job for the company. This is all that I want out of you and your companions. Your success is our success.”

  Cate now looked at Malone differently. She could see him barely looking at her, appearing even more shy and concerned about what he was saying and not saying. She wanted to ask more questions but was somewhat afraid, of all things, of hurting him. But she had to ask. “Mr. Malone, could you do me a big favor before I begin my questions?”

  Malone, looking more sheepishly than he had in fifteen years, said quietly, “Sure, whatever it is, name it.”

  “Mr. Malone, could you please call me Cate? I think it would be appropriate since you have already rescued me once before.” She looked up at him and saw what looked almost like a blushing boy in front of her.

  “Yes, Ms. Stanley, I mean, Cate. And please,” he thought quickly, “call me John. Mr. Malone was my late father, and I feel old enough as it is.” He smiled as he said it and gave a quick little laugh which was both nervous and boyish.

  “Okay, John, now I want you to tell me the truth about why you took the effort to hire all four of us, starting with me? What do you want from us?” She became confused and concerned and was immediately sorry for asking the way she did.

  John, taken aback by the tone of the question quickly replied, “Well, it is what just I told you. You four wet young people were like your boat. You did not have a direction to steer, and your boat and your lives were being pulled by a force you could not counteract. You see, people need direction and they also need hope. They need to have a few good breaks come their way, and in the brief time I was with you four, I saw both innocence and a sense of bravado. But I also saw a need for direction and stability.”

  He looked up at the ceiling and for a moment stroked his chin. “Lastly, you needed someone to give you a hand and set a new course for your lives. That was my quick decision, and I’ll tell you honestly, it gives me immense pleasure to see people work through their problems and make progress. This does not mean all will be a downwind sail on easy seas. No, that is one thing I have learned from both business and sailing, things come along which you cannot control nor can you overcome. Dealing with challenges is what life is all about.”

  As he finished the soliloquy, he looked not at her but out the window and wondered if he had made a fool of himself and what she thought of him now.

  Cate watched him as he stared out the window and came to a quick judgment. He was a good man without pretensions and was likewise afraid of being hurt and used. He was not concerned about things that went wrong in his life, but most likely he tried to get over things which bothered him and moved on. She liked this about people and knew only a few who could deal with those kinds of problems.

  She didn’t know why, but she got up from her chair and walked the few steps to his desk where he stood, and as she came near, he moved a step back to lean on his desk. She stopped a foot away, looking him in the eyes and quietly watching his face.

  She breathed out and said, “John, I believe what you just told me. I don’t know you, but I do know good people exist in this world. From everything I’ve heard in this company, you are the real deal and allow people to grow and develop, reaching new heights based on their ideas and their labor. I’m sorry for being so abrupt. I apologize for anything I said which you might think was either self-serving or shallow. I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me and my friends. We are doing well because of you, and I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  Her scent was more than he could handle. Yes, he was forty-four years old and had not been with a woman for years. He was afraid and did not know what to say except, “Well, you’re welcome. I know you will do an excellent job for the company and I know your friends will do the same.”

  He quickly moved to the other side leaving her to face him across the massive expanse of his desk.

  “Cate,” he said, “thank you for taking the time to see me today, and again I want to apologize to you and your friends about any deception on my part. It was an honest attempt to help people, good people, and that’s all I want to do.”

  Cate stood straight, smiled, and wondered more about this strange man. She didn’t wonder very long because the door opened, and the Hulk was there.

  Hal said, “Shall I take Ms. Stanley back to her office now, sir?”

  John quickly replied, “Yes, Ms. Stanley and I had an enjoyable conversation, and I wanted to wish her well in her new endeavor. Ms. Stanley, please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you or your colleagues. I hope to see you around the complex soon.”

  She had barely opened her mouth when Hal moved beside her and started walking her out the door. “Mr. Malone,” she said, turning away from Hal, “thank you for the time, and I hope to meet you again real soon.”

  With that, she was escorted into the hallway, and the door closed behind her. Malone was shaking and quickly sat down. What an ass, he thought to himself. She is a decent person, and I acted like some schoolboy or some foppish old CEO from a bad movie. What a mess I made of that. He spun around in the chair and began to rethink his comments of the past few minutes with Cate.

  Hal took Cate to his car and opened the door for her. After they were on their way, Cate began talking. “Mr. Broadbent, how long have you worked for Mr. Malone?”

  Hal slowed at the first intersection and turned right onto the main road. “I have known Mr. Malone for nearly twenty years,” he said in his normal gruff manner.

  Cate pushed on with her questions. “Mr. Broadbent, you know of course the story about how Mr. Malone and I met?”

  Hal looked over at her, answering, “Yes, Ms. Stanley, I know all about you and your friends. I am certain you have more questions, but I don’t think I will be able to answer them.”

  Broadbent did n
ot tell her that he had witnessed the entire boat rescue from a nearby boat which shadowed Malone’s boat. A security team followed the CEO’s every move, even when he was on his boat.

  Cate saw a very intense man who was deeply loyal to Malone. She decided on one last query. “Mr. Broadbent, I figured you knew about me and my friends, but I just wanted to know where I stood. The situation is very strange. Why me?”

  She looked out the window and continued, “You know, of course, I was thinking all the wrong things about him when I saw him at the meeting, and then I was scared going to his office. I recalled how nice he was on the boat when he rescued us and wondered if I was wrong about him. Well, Mr. Broadbent, I was wrong. I think he is one of the nicest men I have ever met. He has done me and my friends a great service which I doubt any of us will ever be able to repay.”

  She looked at Hal again and continued. “Mr. Malone doesn’t know all of the good things he does for people. I think he’s afraid of hearing about how his generosity and kindness have impacted people. I wish he could take the time to meet more of his teams and understand very few of them want anything from him except some of his time. He is a unique soul and a very wonderful man.”

  Hal, keeping a vigilant eye on the road, smiled at the young woman’s comments about a man he knew well, but also someone he didn’t know as well as a close friend should. She was making not only good sense, but there was an honesty in her voice which spoke volumes as to her values and ethics. Cate was the kind of person John Malone needed. I wonder, he thought, if I should take a chance.

  He pulled into the parking lot of her building and turned off the motor. He asked one question, “Ms. Stanley, how sincere were you in the comments about Mr. Malone a few moments ago? And tell me the truth, you’re talking to someone who has made his professional living dealing with the worst possible elements in the world, and I know a lie when I hear it.” He stared at her with an intensity that penetrated her soul.

  She gulped and pulled back. Not out of fear, but out of concern about what she might say. Truthfulness was her best asset her mother had once told her, and she was often way too frank when dealing with people. She did not like little lies and abhorred big ones. “Yes, what I said is how I feel, and I think he’s not only a good man but a great leader.”

  Hal studied her face. “Okay, first, let’s get this straight from the beginning. What I tell you stays only with you and no one else. I think you understand the consequences of you divulging anything I tell you, right?”

  There was a menacing tone in his voice, but it did not upset her. Far from being upset, she felt this man was a kindred soul who only wanted to hear the truth, all the time.

  “Yes, Mr. Broadbent, whatever you share is ours alone and will go no further.”

  The toothy smile of a conspirator crossed his lips. “First, you can start calling me Hal. Now, let me give you some background on Mr. John Malone. I think I have an idea which might help both him and you.”

  His plan took ten minutes, and she was not shy asking about why he thought any of this was possible. It was both a series of interesting revelations and presented a thundering possibility which would alter her life forever.

  *****

  BILOXI Richard had been working at the Pascagoula shipyard for the last thirty days after finally securing a job as a technical wiring specialist. He laughed at the big title because all he did each day was take pre-cut wires from the shop area to the section of the new navy destroyer under construction at the facility. He didn’t mind the job and knew he had to start at the bottom. The union boss had told him because he was ex-military, already had a security clearance, and possessed excellent technical skills, it would be okay if he took on the job of wire boy. If he were not a veteran, he would be in line with every other man trying to get a job with no previous union membership. He was surprised he managed to get anything.

  The company’s human resources person had told Richard he would be acceptable to them and was even more reticent in his comments, saying he wished he had another hundred guys like him because of his experience in the aerospace business. But, he could only recommend him to the union as a fast track because of the need to get more people with technical proficiencies working on the new destroyer. The ship was more airplane than ship and was the third in the new Zumwalt class which incorporated more stealth technologies than found on other surface warships. The ship’s automation saved the navy money since it had to feed, train, and pay thirty percent fewer crew members. Plus, the extra space allowed for more firepower.

  All in all, Richard had been happy at the new job, and the money was almost as good as he used to make in Wichita. He was not crazy about the flatlands of coastal Mississippi, nor did he like the horrible humidity or heat which reminded him of the worst days he ever experienced in Kansas. But, it was interesting work, and he was told by the HR boss if things worked out past the six-month probationary period with the union, he might be able to get him promoted into one of the more technical jobs working with the ship’s systems. Until then, he would hunker down and spend time with the good old boys and drink beers at the little bar on the outskirts of the shipyard, or he would meet other vets at the nearby VFW hall.

  A couple of his new-found work friends had recommended a weekend trip to nearby Biloxi to gamble, smoke, and drink. Not being afraid of a good bender, and finally having a few extra dollars in his pocket, he agreed to go along. He was amazed at how green the gulf coast was this late in November. He would have seen his first snowfall if he were still back in Wichita. He was amazed at how well the town looked after Hurricane Katrina had washed away most of it back in 2005. He could still see a lot of barren areas where buildings used to be, but for the most part, the coastal highway was full of new mid-rise buildings, casinos, bars, and places to rent beach equipment. He had spent time at Hulbert Air Force Base as an Air Commando and knew about the beach areas of the panhandle of Florida, but never got over this far west to check out other parts of the Redneck Riviera.

  Except for the casinos, the place reminded him of Panama City without the white sand beach. Not a bad area, but not very pretty compared to the Florida panhandle. Then again, Florida did not have casinos, so this may not be such a bad place. He joined his new ship-building buddies, Ray and Steve, or as they liked to be called the Ragin’ Cajuns from Lafayette and they took him into four different casinos over the course of eight hours. All the casinos were filled with the gainfully employed and old-timers who were working their way through their social security checks by dropping quarters in one-armed bandits, oblivious to the time of day or the lack of winning. He smiled thinking about how some people called casinos God’s New Waiting Room. A waste, he thought as he walked past two old women with walkers next to their slot machines, guarding their buckets of coins with one hand and pushing the play button with the other. Every so often, one hand would take the cigarette out of the mouth and drop ashes on the floor.

  “God,” he said out loud, “I hope I don’t end up doing this when I’m sixty.”

  A young woman smiled at him. She looked at the old women and said, quietly “I agree, but I may be pushing drinks here until then. Be careful and don’t get too close to the old broads; they become very territorial about their machines.”

  She was pretty; maybe in her mid-thirties. She was holding onto her drink-filled tray working her way through the cheap seats to the gaming tables just beyond the lines of slots. He smiled back at her and then she was gone. He thought she was the first interesting woman he’d seen since he arrived in the deep south and she was pushing drinks for a living. Oh well, he thought, better move on to the next table to see if I can break even.

  Richard had been at the second table for about fifty minutes and was holding his own. The Ragin’ Cajuns were elsewhere in the casino probably playing craps or something, but he preferred blackjack. He was sitting in the middle of a $10 table—the lowest priced one operating early in the evening—where he could concentrate on the other
players and the dealer. They used a multiple deck shoe, and the cards were coming out hot this evening. He was holding at sixteen for most of his hands, which was working to his advantage. He split low number pairs then held as low as fourteen if he saw the dealer with a mid-range card. He had played a lot of cards in the Air Force but was not much of a gambler. He hated to lose and especially hated to lose big. He knew when to walk away and when to go all in. He was a man who liked to know the risks but was not afraid to take one when he believed it was necessary.

  After winning with a nineteen, someone asked if he would like a drink. He usually did not drink while gambling, but the voice was familiar. He turned around and saw the young woman he had chatted with earlier. Her uniform was a takeoff of what a bar girl might have worn on a riverboat gambling ship during Mark Twain’s times. It was bright red with a push-up bra to exaggerate her already well-proportioned cleavage, exposed thighs behind fishnet stockings connected to shapely calves and high heel shoes. A short headdress with white and red feathers rested atop her head. You couldn’t miss anyone wearing this outfit no matter what time of day it was or how many drinks you had consumed. The company colors were sure to get the attention of any male between the ages of twenty and ninety-five unless, of course, they were blind.

  He smiled back at the young woman who smiled nicely at him and ordered a Scotch on the rocks. She quickly inquired as to his preference of whisky and said very softly, “Don’t worry, I won’t hit you with the extra charge for top-shelf whisky. Just name your pleasure, and I’ll get it for you.”

  Richard thought for a moment and said, “Okay, how about Chivas, if you have it?”