The Tower of Mount Everest

“I demand to know where Dr. Lattimer is, RIGHT NOW!” Shouts Dr. Kramer. She turns away from Jose, eyes squinting, lower lip protruding, her arms straight down with hands clenched in impatient anger.

“I told you already, Dr. Kramer,” Jose responds calmly from his chair. “He was called away suddenly on business. Dr. Lattimer’s a very busy man!”

She whirls around to face him again. “FOR THREE DAYS!?” She begins huffing and fuming.

For a moment, Jose thought her eyeglasses might be fogging up. He leans back in his chair, fingers crossed in his lap. He purses his lips and cocks his head as if examining her.

“I tell you what, Dr. Kramer. The minute I get a phone call from him I will tell him to get in touch with you right away!” Okay?” Jose shrugs and turns his hands up, then, lets them slap against his thighs. “It’s the best I can do. I’m sorry.”

Cheryl Kramer can hardly contain herself. She knows a “put-off” when she sees one. She lets out a shriek and stomps out of the room.

Jose leans back in his chair, the fingertips of one hand touching the other. He smiles, shaking his head as he lowers it. Then he begins to chuckle and finally bursts out laughing. Eventually he turns around and begins shuffling papers on his desk.

“I told you, I don’t know WHERE he is!” Kramer says angrily over the phone. “That flunky of his won’t tell me ANYTHING!” Kramer is silent as the voice on the other end of the line begins to speak again. She listens intently, twirling her hair with her free hand. “How am I supposed to do THAT?” she says, “I’m a consultant, not a MAGICIAN!” The voice continues to speak. “WHAT?!” she says in amazement. “You want me to do WHAT?!” Her face clouds over in anger. “I think it’s time you people got yourself another consultant, that’s what I think. I will not be your “do-anything” FLUNKY!” And with that, she snaps the cell phone shut. “The NERVE of that man!” she says angrily. “Who does he think he’s dealing with, anyway!?” She stomps around the room, fuming, then, sits on her bed. She lowers her head, takes off her glasses, puts her hands to her forehead and begins sobbing. She covers her face with her hands. Suddenly the phone rings again. She looks up through her fingers, wipes away the tears and tries to compose herself. After a brief hesitation, she answers the phone. “Hello,” she says hoarsely, continuing to wipe away the tears from her eyes and dabbing her nose. “Yes,” she says. The voice continues to speak. “Uh huh,” she says. “Okay. Yes, I can do that. Thanks for calling back,” she says softly, twirling her hair again. Looking straight ahead, she closes the phone, this time more slowly as she begins to take in the meaning of the recent conversation. Sighing, she puts her glasses back on, then, sits down at her computer terminal and begins typing in some commands. As she sorts through the myriad volumes of information, she spies a folder called “Proprietary.” She clicks on it and finds another folder named “alloy composite.” In this folder she sees a database called “formulations.” She clicks on the file but receives a “prompt” asking for a password. “Well, let’s see if he knows what he’s talking about,” she says under her breath. She types in a password. The computer whirs for a moment and the database pops open. “BINGO!” she says, snapping her fingers. She quickly inserts a blank CD and begins downloading information onto it. Pushing herself away from the terminal, a smug look of satisfaction gleams in her eyes. As she watches the data download, she says to herself. “Now, Dr. Lattimer, the ball’s in our court for a change, and it’s definitely time to make a change.”

Jose is almost asleep on his bed when the beeping sound from the computer finally wakes him up. He gets up, walks over to the terminal and clicks the mouse, turning on the monitor. On the screen, flashing in bold red letters is the warning “ALERT! PROPRIETORY INFORMATION IS BEING DOWNLOADED!” Still standing, Jose types in some commands, which quickly pinpoints the origin of the download. It highlights Dr. Kramer’s face without her knowledge. Jose shakes his head and wags his finger at the image. “Shame on you, Dr. Kramer,” he says. “You are being a very naughty girl.” Jose watches her for a little while, turns the monitor off, yawns, stretches, and goes back to bed.

“Dr. Lattimer, how nice of you to return!” Dr. Kramer says with an obvious smirk on her face as she waltzes into his office unannounced three days later.

Lattimer looks up from his pile of papers, and pulls his reading glasses down. “It’s nice of you to knock, Dr. Kramer,” he says dryly. He puts his glasses back up and begins poring over his papers again. “As you can see, I’m very busy. What can I do for you today?”

She walks smartly over to his desk and plops a CD down in front of him, then, steps back, hands on her hips, a smirky satisfied grin on her face.

He glances up at her, irritated. “What’s this?” he asks.

“A CD” she says cutely.

“I can see that!” he says, getting more irritated, “What’s on it?”

“Oh nothing much!” she replies, “Just the complete formulations for your alloy composite!”

Lattimer looks up at her, removes his glasses, and pushes himself away from his desk to stand up. He is a full 10 inches taller than Dr. Kramer.

“Where did you get this?!” he hisses.

She steps back, a little startled. He comes from around the desk and stands directly over her, eyes glaring down.

“I said WHERE did you get this?!”

She becomes flustered, but works hard to avoid being intimidated by this otherwise physically intimidating man. She steps back in fear and puts her hand near her mouth.

“There, there’s nothing you can do about this now, Dr. Lattimer,” she says. Treinwood already has a copy.”

“How did you get this!” he says angrily.

“Oh come on now, Dr. Lattimer, let’s not kid ourselves. Did you really think you could keep this formula a secret?”

He stares at her for a moment. “So what do you intend to do about it?” he asks.

Regaining some of her composure, she walks over to his desk and picks up the CD, fanning herself with it.

“That’s up to Treinwood to decide, isn’t it?” she says cutely. She cocks her head at Lattimer, smirking slightly, hands him the CD, then, turns to walk out the door. “Have a nice day, Dr. Lattimer,” she says, shutting the door behind her.

Lattimer watches her leave, tapping the CD against the palm of his hand. When the door shuts, he begins smiling slyly and tosses the CD into the trashcan. He sits down in his chair, throws his head back, catches it with his hands, and props his feet up on his desk. He looks up at the ceiling, a smile of satisfaction on his face. He reaches over to press the intercom button.

“Jose, you can come in now.” Jose walks in from an adjacent room.

“Did she buy it, boss?” Jose asks.

“Hook, line, and sinker, mi amigo.” Hook, line, and sinker!”

Drilling the mooring holes for the base of the tower near the top of Mount Everest had been particularly costly... financially, psychologically, and emotionally. Somewhat more nebulous, but just as real, was the cost in terms of loss of good will both inside and outside the organization. Cost overruns were piling up, deaths and lawsuits were mounting, and the project was getting further and further behind schedule.

Lattimer finally suffered a nervous breakdown and had to be hospitalized for three months with complete bed rest and sedation. The investors saw this as a golden opportunity to trump his ace by surreptitiously hiring an outside engineering firm to continue with the work in his absence, providing them with the “required” formula for alloy composite from the pirated CD provided by Dr. Cheryl Kramer.

“What do you mean they won’t return my phone calls?” asks Jose, his voice a mixture of anger and confusion. He listens intently to the voice on the other end of the line.

“They WHAT! They... they don’t know what they’re doing! No one can make alloy composite except Lattimer!” Jose continues listening to the voice.

“Yes, I know all about Dr. Kramer and her lousy CD! Did you think Dr. Lattimer would be stupid enough to leave the actual formula online so you could hack into it!?” The voice is silent.

“Stop them now!” Jose implores. “If you don’t, it will be the death of the project!” The voice begins speaking again.

“You don’t believe me?!” says Jose incredulously. “I tell you what! Hold off doing any more work until I can get down to the factory. I’ll show you the difference between genuine alloy composite and that phony crap you’re getting ready to make. Can you do THAT much?!” The voice hesitates, and then speaks again briefly. Jose bends his head back, rolls his eyes up, and then opens them wide in exhausted relief, nodding his head.

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” he says. “I‘ll be down there as soon as I can, yes, yes, good bye.” He hangs up the phone, a look of concern growing on his face. “How am I gonna do this without Lattimer?”

Later that Evening

“Here he is!” says Craig Randolph, one of the engineering contractors recently hired by Treinwood. Using a web cam, he sees Lattimer’s jeep pulls up and stop smartly in the parking lot outside the main door of the non-pressurized factory. Jose jumps out of the jeep and hustles through the door. It has taken him the better part of the day just to gather what he needed, make the journey down the mountain, and drive over 12 miles into Snyderville. He sees Randolph and raises his arm to shake the man’s hand.

“I got here just as fast as I could!” Jose says excitedly. Randolph does not offer his hand in return.

“We’re all waiting for you, Mr. Martin,” he says in a sinister tone as he stretches out his arm to point the way for Jose. Jose looks at him with a mixture of confusion and alarm and follows his lead to the pressurized meeting room just ahead. Once they pass through the airlock and open the doorway he is immediately taken aback by the large number of people sitting at the huge table and standing around the room. Never before in his life had he seen so many suits and uniforms crammed into one small place.

“Deja vu all over again”! He thinks to himself, “only this time I’m the one in the hot seat!”

Treinwood is sitting at the far end of the table, fingertips touching together in an arch. “Come in Mr. Martin,” he says. The tone of his voice is as cold and dry as the Himalayan winds. He nods toward the chair in front of Jose. “Have a seat.”

Jose looks at him with growing alarm. He pulls the chair out slowly, looking around the room. Then, grasping the arms of the chair, he sits down gingerly, as if it were wired with electricity.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Treinwood continues, a thin smile on his face. “Would you excuse us for a few moments?”

The people begin to file silently out through a door leading to an adjacent room. Jose hunkers down in his chair, watching the procession nervously.

“Please be so kind as to close the door on your way out! Thank you!” says Treinwood after the door is closed. Treinwood, fingers still arched, focuses his attention directly at Jose. Jose can feel the man’s eyes burning a hole straight through to the back of his head. The silence is deafening. Suddenly, the Englishman scoots his chair back and stands up. He begins walking slowly around the table, tapping his fingertips together as he approaches the back of Jose’s chair.

“Do you realize just how many people have died on that mountain since this project began?” he asks.

Jose feels clammy. Beads of sweat bristle on his forehead, his breathing becomes heavier. Treinwood stands directly over him, grasping the back of Jose’s chair with both hands.

“A lot!” Jose says in a raspy voice.

Treinwood leans on Jose’s chair.

“Exactly 437 men and 15 women... last count. More people have died up there on our watch than have died since people first started climbing this mountain well over a half-century ago.” Treinwood straightens up, rubs his nose with his thumb and forefinger, puts his hands behind his back, and then begins slowly pacing the floor again. He turns his head to look at Jose.

“Just how much difference will one more life make at this point, Mr. Martin? Or for that matter...two?”

Jose’s eyes grow wide with fear. He begins to shiver uncontrollably.

Treinwood narrows his eyes and looks directly at Jose. “Are you beginning to get my drift, Mr. Martin?”

Jose looks at Treinwood, unbridled fear in his eyes. “Yo... you are bluffing, Señor!” he says.

“Am I?” returns Treinwood.

“You can’t get rid of Dr. Lattimer, he’s the only one who knows how to make alloy composite!”

“Perhaps,” says Treinwood, holding his chin in his hand. “However, you, on the other hand, are quite dispensable. Are you not?”

Jose feels like he may have relieved himself right in the chair at that point. The shaking gets stronger and a primal fear begins to well up deep within him.

“Wha... what do you want me to do, Señor?” Jose gulps.

Treinwood walks slowly and deliberately back to Jose, placing his hands squarely on the back of his chair again. He leans down, puts one hand on Jose’s shoulder, and whispers into his ear.

“We want the formula for the alloy composite. And we want it within 24 hours.”

Jose cannot contain himself any longer. He begins to break down and cry, sobbing uncontrollably. “Yes sir, Mr. Treinwood, anything you say.”

Treinwood pats Jose’s shoulder in a reassuring manner. “That’s a good man, Jose! You’ve just saved yourself and Dr. Lattimer more grief than you can possibly imagine!” Treinwood hands Jose a handkerchief. “Here dry your eyes before the others come back in.”

“Yes sir!” Jose whimpers, taking the handkerchief, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose.

“Are you presentable?”

“Yes, sir, I think so,” Jose says.

“Good, good man!” Treinwood looks at the door. “YOU MAY ALL COME BACK IN NOW!”

The troupe of suits and uniforms file back in as silently as they left.

“I have some good news for you!” Treinwood announces to the group. “Mr. Martin has told me he can have the alloy composite formula on my desk as soon as tomorrow!”

The V.I.P’s begin clapping as if Jose had just been given the Medal of Honor. Jose feels his face go flush with shame. He tries his best to hide the embarrassment of the moment.

“You may go now, Mr. Martin,” Treinwood says.

Jose gets up slowly, like a man with weights attached to his arms and legs. He tries to avoid eye contact with anyone in the room. As he exits the doorway, a second round of applause begins. He lowers his head as a wave of nausea comes over him. He hesitates in the doorway to collect himself and finally enters the airlock. As he steps out into the hallway he stumbles into Randolph who is just outside the entrance. Randolph stands there; arms crossed in defiance, a smirk on his face. Jose lowers his head and runs clumsily out of the building... anything to get out of that place. Once outside, he jumps into the jeep and starts it, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Revving” the engine, he peels out in reverse, throws the jeep into forward and fishtails out of the parking lot, burning rubber all the way out of the gate.

“Dr. Lattimer, it’s me Jose!” he says softly to the man lying in the hospital bed at Upper New Everest. Lattimer stirs, then, relaxes. Jose reaches down and shakes his arm. “Dr. Lattimer, you must wake up, I need to talk to you, right now!”

“Why haven’t you finished mooring three yet, Jose?” Lattimer says sleepily under his breath. The nurse, looking a bit concerned, walks over to Jose and places her hand on his shoulder.

“Sir, he is heavily sedated right now. Perhaps, if you come back this evening at suppertime he’ll be more coherent.”

Jose ignores her. He reaches down, grabs Lattimer by the shoulders, and begins shaking his head.

“Dr. Lattimer, you must wake up! WAKE UP!”

The nurse becomes alarmed and tries to pull Jose away from Lattimer, but he shoves her away and continues shaking the man, screaming at him. Alerted by the shouting, a couple of other nurses and an orderly rush into the room.

“I think he’s lost his mind!” The nurse says to them frantically. “Stop him before he hurts Dr. Lattimer!”

The orderly tries to pull Jose away but Jose shoves him back so hard he hits the wall and falls down, stunned. A male doctor and another orderly enter the room.

“DO SOMETHING!” the nurse screams at them.

The doctor grabs Jose from behind in a chest lock. Together, the two men fall backward onto the floor with Jose on top, kicking and screaming.

“Quick, get a sedative and give it to him, NOW!” orders the struggling doctor.

The nurse jams a needle into a bottle and tries to hand it to the second orderly who is now lying on top of Jose trying to restrain him.

“I can’t give it to him,” the orderly grunts, “you do it... NOW!” The nurse cautiously lowers herself to one of Jose’s arms that the two men he is sandwiched between have managed to pin down. She inserts the needle, draining its contents quickly into his arm.

“Sir,” the doctor says, “sir, you must stop fighting us. As soon as you calm down we’ll release you!”

The medication surges through Jose’s body, working it’s way quickly into his brain. Soon he is in a twilight mode and hears the nurse speaking as if she was down in a well far away.

“He’s calming down, I think it’s working.”

“Get him off me,” the doctor groans. The voices trail off, and there is finally only blackness.

“Mr. Martin? Mr. Martin, can you hear me?” Jose feels like his head is rolling around the room. He blinks and opens his eyes. It is the nurse who had injected him with the sedative. He puts his hand up to his forehead and rubs it.

“How long have I been out?” he asks.

“About three hours, sir,” the nurse replies. He tries to raise himself up but finds that he is restrained by a chest strap.

“What is this?” he ask, surprised and angry.

The nurse backs away from him carefully. “It’s a restraint, sir.”

He looks at her angrily. “I know what it is, get it off me!”

She becomes alarmed and rings the nurse’s station. “Sir, you need to calm down if you want to be released.”

“I AM CALM!” Jose says angrily. “Now get this damn thing off me, NOW!” He begins looking for the release mechanism, finds it, unsnaps the belt and slides off the bed. Still woozy from the sedative, he puts his hand back on his forehead, leaning back against the bed to regain his balance. “Sweet Jesus! What did you people DO to me?”

The doctor and orderly that restrained him earlier, enter the room. They put their hands out as if Jose were holding a gun on them.

“Sir,” the doctor says, “just calm down. This kind of behavior is not going to help you.”

Jose is rubbing his eyes with his hand, trying to focus them. Finally, he takes a deep breath, exhales, and calms down.

“I’m sorry for the trouble, Señor. May I please go now?”

The men lower their hands. “I will need to do a physical exam to make sure you haven’t had a concussion or some other kind of head trauma.”

Jose looks at him in resignation. “Please don’t give me any more drugs, ok?”

“If you’ll cooperate sir, I promise you we won’t have to.”

Jose looks at the doctor, then, shakes his head in agreement. He sits on the bed while the doctor examines his eyes with a flashlight and checks his head for injuries.

The doctor turns to look at the nurse. “I think we should get an X-ray just to be safe.” The nurse nods and leaves the room.

Jose shakes his head. “There is nothing wrong with my head, Señor. But if you insist, go ahead. Listen, is there anyway at all I can speak to Dr. Lattimer tonight? It is extremely important, a matter of life and death actually.”

The doctor studies Jose intently. “You’re Dr. Lattimer’s right hand man aren’t you?”

“Si, Señor, that would be me. And right now we are both in a whole lot of trouble!”

“Cancel the X-ray,” the doctor says. “There’s nothing wrong with this man.” He smiles at Jose, looks down, and pats him on the thigh. “Come on, let’s go down and see if Dr. Lattimer is up to speaking with you.”

“THANK YOU, thank you VERY much, doctor,” Jose says with unbridled relief.

“Orderly, please escort Mr. Martin so he doesn’t lose his balance.”

Jose looks at the doctor with alarm.

“Just precautionary,” says the doctor. “Legally, we should be escorting you in a wheelchair.” As they leave the room, the doctor turns and points his finger at Jose. “You must promise only to speak to Dr. Lattimer, ok? No more head-shaking!”

“Agreed.” says Jose. They enter Lattimer’s room and find that he is sitting up, eating dinner. Jose’s eyes begin to well up with emotion.

“Señor Lattimer, are you ok?”

Lattimer stops eating and looks up at Jose. At that point, the doctor interrupts and begins speaking to Lattimer.

“How are you feeling this evening, Dr. Lattimer?”

Lattimer nods his head slightly.

“Do you feel like speaking to an old friend of yours?” The doctor turns and waves his hand toward Jose.

Lattimer cocks his head and studies his friend briefly.

“Don’t you know who I am, boss?” Jose says, anguish in his voice.

Lattimer continues staring blankly at Jose. The doctor lowers his head, then, turns to Jose.

“We’ll leave you alone with him for a few minutes, but no horse play, got it?”

“Yes sir,” Jose says.

“We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Jose nods and waits for them to step outside. He tiptoes over to Lattimer’s side and whispers in his ear.

“We’re in a boat load of trouble boss!”

Lattimer turns to him and says, “So what else is new?”

Jose gasps. His eyes open wide in joyous amazement as he says in a loud whisper, “You’re OK, boss, you’re OK!”

“Of course I’m ok,” says Lattimer, “even though you nearly shook my brains out earlier today.”

Jose’s eyes open even wider, “Yo... you mean you KNEW I was shaking you!?”

“I’ll say!” Lattimer returns.

“Why didn’t you say somethin’, boss?”

Lattimer motions with his finger for Jose to draw closer to him. He leans over and whispers in his ear. “Because Treinwood has spies everywhere, that’s why.”

Jose draws back, eyes wide with amazement. He looks at Lattimer, dumbfounded.

“Then, then you’re not really…”

Lattimer cups Jose’s mouth with his hand and shakes his finger at him. He motions for Jose to come closer.

“This is the only way I could think of to get Treinwood off my back.”

“You mean you were never really sick?” Jose asks in a whisper.

“Yes, I was really sick, all right. No doubt about that. But I’ve been cognizant of what’s going on around me for some time now. I’ve been waiting for you to come visit me. What took you so long?”

“I thought you were comatose or something! I didn’t know...”

“Shhh,” Lattimer says, raising his finger to his lips, “they’re coming back in!”

Jose turns around and sees the doctor and orderly approaching.

“Were you able to communicate with him, Mr. Martin?”

“I think so, doctor,” Jose scrunches up his shoulder and raises his arms, hands turned up. “But it’s really hard to tell, you know?” The doctor nods his head in agreement.

“I understand. Sometimes these things just take time.”

“I know, I know,” says Jose. He turns to look at Lattimer who is now staring out into space, then, Jose turns back to the doctor.

“Doctor, can I spend just a little more time with him... alone? I think I might just be able to reach him... you know?”

The doctor and orderly turn to look at each other, both shrug, and the doctor throws up his hands, “Oh, why not? But just five more minutes, understand? Dr. Lattimer needs his rest!”

“I got you doctor... five more minutes,” Jose says smiling and nodding his head. Smiling at Lattimer, he waits until they close the door. Then he leans over to whisper to him again.

“Boss, Treinwood issued an ultimatum to me today! Either I hand over the formula for the alloy composite or...”

“Or what, Jose?” Lattimer asks, “What can Treinwood do about it?”

Jose looks down, away from Lattimer. “He threatened me... threatened you too!”

Lattimer looks at Jose in bewilderment. “What do you mean... he threatened you? How?”

Jose continues. “He said the loss of two more lives didn’t matter at this point and that I was expendable.”

Lattimer sits up in astonishment. “Treinwood said THAT to you... in front of witnesses!?”

Jose continues looking down. “There were no witnesses. He ordered everybody else out of the room, like he was God or somethin’.”

“Who else was in there?” asks Lattimer.

“It was more like who WASN’T in there,” says Jose. He shakes his head in exasperation. “It’s like Treinwood rules the world or somethin’!”

“Treinwood doesn’t rule the world, believe me on that one!” snaps Lattimer. “Listen, Jose. Treinwood is trying to get to me through you!”

“He’s doing a pretty good job of it,” says Jose.

“Ok,” Lattimer demanded, “tell me EXACTLY what he said.”

Jose looks up at Lattimer with fear in his eyes. “He told me to have the formula on his desk by tomorrow.”

Lattimer looks away from Jose, thinking out loud to himself.

“Good grief, this is worse than I thought!”

“I told you it was, boss.”

“We better play it safe, Jose. You need to get away... tonight! I have some money stashed away in a Swiss bank account. Do you know how to get to it?”

“I remember what you told me, boss.”

“Good, good! Take the money and disappear for a while. That will give me time to “recover” and get things back on track. In the meantime, I’ll square things with Treinwood so we can get you back on board, ok?”

Jose looks at Lattimer with the saddest eyes imaginable.

Lattimer reaches for Jose and draws him close to him, patting him firmly on the back, eyes shut and burning with tears.

“Don’t worry old friend, I’ve pulled our butts out of many a fire and I’ll do it again. Just lay low for a while... at least until this whole thing blows over, ok?”

Jose draws back, lowers his head and nods slowly in agreement.

“Ok, now get out of here, before they suspect anything.”

Jose gets up and prepares to leave. Lattimer wags his finger at him and whispers. “And don’t be too obvious about it!” The two men exchange warm glances, then, Jose turns and leaves the room.

The doctor grabs his shoulder on the way out and asks, “Were you able to communicate with him, Mr. Martin?”

Jose stops, reflects on the words for a moment, and then answers. “I think so, doctor, I think so.”

Later that Evening

“There’s someone here who would like to see you, sir,” says the nurse. “Who is it?” asks Lattimer. At that point, Treinwood enters the room.

“It’s me, Dr. Lattimer.”

Lattimer sits up in bed and smiles as if he were actually glad to see him.

“Well, Mr. Treinwood, it’s good to see you! What can I do for you today?!” Lattimer says cheerily.

Treinwood lowers his head, forces a thin smile, looks back up, and begins to speak. “It has come to my attention that your man, Jose Martin, is absence without leave.”

Lattimer looks at Treinwood as if the news was a shock to him.

“You don’t say?” he responds with feigned concern.

Treinwood looks irritated. “That sir is grounds for immediate dismissal. I do hope you understand.”

Lattimer rises up in his bed. “Oh I do understand, Mr. Treinwood, believe me I do.”

“Good!” Treinwood responds, “Now on to other matters.”

Lattimer looks up at the ceiling, holding his chin in his hand, a mocking quizzical look on his face.

“You know, I believe it’s you who doesn’t understand, Mr. Treinwood.”

Treinwood raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean, sir?”

“I mean... about who’s really in charge around here.”

Treinwood cocks his head, and squints one eye. “Just what do you mean by that remark, Dr. Lattimer?”

Lattimer throws the sheet aside and stands up suddenly, as if there had never been anything wrong with him in the first place. He begins to pace the floor, hands behind his back, smiling up at the ceiling.

“I mean about who really holds the key to completing this project.”

Treinwood looks aghast. He cannot believe the arrogance of this cocky young Yank. Clearing his throat, “Just whom do you think you’re talking to here, sir!” he says angrily.

Lattimer continues playing it cool. “I think I’m talking to the one man who has more invested in this project than anybody else on the planet. A man so desperate for success... he would do anything!” Suddenly he whips around and points an accusing finger at Treinwood, ”ANYTHING, mind you, to see that it gets done.”

Treinwood, standing as if at attention, looks at Lattimer in amazement. “What on earth are you talking about!”

Then, Lattimer strikes like a snake after prey. “You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about... SIR!” He stretches out the last word, lacing every letter with venom. Treinwood is completely flabbergasted. Lattimer walks briskly over to him and stands face to face until their noses almost touch, both men being of equal stature. He begins jabbing Treinwood’s chest with his finger. “You threatened Jose didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”

Treinwood steps back, “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir!”

Lattimer turns away from him, and folds his arms in disgust. “Oh, I just bet you don’t!” For a moment there is silence.

Finally Treinwood responds. “Look, Dr. Lattimer, I didn’t come here to engage in an argument with you about who is or is not in charge here. Frankly, we... you and I... and others, like it or not, are up to our necks in this project!”

Lattimer turns to face Treinwood. “But some of us are more up to our necks than others, am I right?”

Treinwood stammers, searching for the right words. “Listen, we are all on the Titanic right now. If it goes down, it really doesn’t matter who is most invested in the project, now does it?”

Lattimer finds it hard to argue with the man’s logic.

“Ok, I agree with you.” Now what?”

Treinwood is thankful for this sudden burst of rationality. He continues searching for the right words.

“We both have something the other one needs, am I right?”

“Go on,” says Lattimer.

“We have to dispense with the animosity and learn to trust each other more. Don’t you agree?”

“It would be helpful,” says Lattimer. “However, there has been an awful lot of bad water passing under our bridges lately.”

“I know there has,” says Treinwood, “and it needs to stop. It is quite unproductive and a real danger to the project.”

“So... what do you propose to do about it?” asks Lattimer.

Treinwood raises his finger as if to make a point. “I propose this, sir. You divulge the formula for the alloy composite and we will give you a five year contract with a 100% pay increase, including stock options.”

Lattimer gazes at Treinwood, who is smiling about as much as can be expected for a stodgy Englishman.

“Why is it so important for you to know the formula?” Lattimer asks.

“Good grief man!” says Treinwood. “That should be fairly obvious, don’t you think? What if you should die right in the middle of the project!? It would be the end of everything!”

Lattimer is silent. He realizes that Treinwood has an excellent point, but he doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him.

Treinwood looks at him inquisitively. “ So what do you say, do we have a deal?”

“Draw up a contract,” says Lattimer. “I’ll have my attorneys go over it.”

Treinwood grins even larger and claps his hands together.

“Excellent, excellent! I will arrange for it immediately!” He starts to punch in a number on his cell phone when Lattimer wags a finger at him to interrupt. Treinwood stops, clicks the phone shut, and looks at the engineer in bewilderment. “Is there something else?” he asks.

Lattimer begins pacing the floor, still wagging his finger, “As a matter of fact... there is,” he says.

“Well, what is it?” asks Treinwood. “Let’s get everything out on the table, once and for all.”

Lattimer points his finger at Treinwood and smiles. “Good idea, VERY good idea! For starters, I will require a five percent royalty on all alloy composite sales for the next 20 years.” Treinwood looks aghast but says nothing. Lattimer continues, “You will no longer attempt to micromanage this project. You may have input into what is going on, but you will have to trust my instincts on which direction to go. Simply put, this means get out of my way and let me build this tower!”

“Anything else?” Treinwood asks coldly.

“There is one last wrinkle we need to iron out here.”

“Yes?” Treinwood ask.

“You will leave Jose Martin alone! He answers to me and to me only! Is that understood!”

“Agreed.”

“One final point, Mr. Treinwood. I understand that you hired an outside engineering firm to take over this project under the delusion that you had the actual formula for the alloy composite.”

“I will terminate them immediately!” says Treinwood.

“That’s not my point, Mr. Treinwood. The point I’m trying to make here is simply this, you thought you could outsmart me! Well, it didn’t work this time and it certainly won’t work the next time! Why do you think I had the formula online anyway?”

Treinwood, holding his chin, searches for an answer. “For convenience, I assume.”

“Well, your assumption is wrong, sir,” returns Lattimer. “I had it online as bait, to see who, if anybody, would have the gall to try to break into it. Looks like I caught a big one didn’t I?”

Treinwood’s face turns red.

“Now, listen to me and listen good: If you ever, EVER try to screw me or Jose over again, rest assured your precious “project” will not survive to see the light of another day! And it’s way too late for you to do anything about it now!”

Treinwood looks at Lattimer in complete amazement. “What on earth do you mean by that, sir?”

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about, or if you insist, to find out about, the hard way!” Fear and amazement pass briefly over Treinwood’s face before he quickly regains his composure. Lattimer continues, “You just better hope that Mr. Martin and I remain in good health. Because if anything happens to either one or both of us, I have measures in place to make good on what I’ve just said.”

Treinwood can hardly believe what he is hearing.

Lattimer is exhausted. He feels woozy, stumbles back and leans against the bed. Treinwood becomes alarmed.

“Are you all right, sir?”

Lattimer is sitting on the bed, rubbing his forehead.

“Yes. I’ll be just fine. I just need to get out of this bed and get back to work, that’s all.”

“Shall I ring for the nurse?” asks Treinwood.

“Please do,” says Lattimer, “so she can check me out of here.”

“I take it you’ve been coherent for some time now,” asks Treinwood.

Lattimer looks at him, a tired smile on his face. “Much longer than you ever realized. Listen, Richard, forget the intrigue and stick with what you know, PR and raising money. Leave the engineering to me. Even if your engineers knew how to make alloy composite they still have to know what to do with it. That’s not something every Tom, Dick, and Harry engineer can do.” As the nurse comes in, Treinwood excuses himself. “Oh Richard,” says Lattimer... “may I call you Richard?”

“Please do,” says Treinwood. “It’s about time we dispensed with the formalities.”

“Don’t fire those engineers you hired,” Lattimer says. Treinwood is perplexed by the comment. “We’re gonna need all the help we can muster at this point in time.” Treinwood nods, and then exits the room. “Nurse, can you get an outside line for me, please?” asks Lattimer. She nods, presses in a single number, and hands him the receiver. Lattimer punches in some numbers and waits for a response. He hears a recorded message on the other end of the line, followed by a beep. “Jose, this is Jeff. Listen, the coast is clear. You can come home now. Any questions, call me back at the office. I’ll be there later this afternoon, bye now.” He puts the receiver down.

“Are you feeling better, Dr. Lattimer?” the nurse asks as she continues checking him out. Lattimer grins, nodding his head slightly.

“Much better, maam. Much much better! ... Say, have you got anything to eat around this joint? I’m starving to death!”