Chapter 25

“Füllen Sie Ihre Mission.”(Complete your mission.)

Resisting the impulse to throw the cell phone was not overly impressive, as the room in which Warin Schader stood had the dimensions of a small walk-in closet. Barely enough space for a standup desk and a lamp. The walls, burled walnut panels, were beautiful and featureless. The choice of woods was his, the technology behind them, the best money could buy. The room was a marvel of sound, vibration and electronic signal proofing. It was as isolated as a Faraday cage inside a submarine beached on the ancient shore of the Sea of Tranquility.

Stepping through the opening that would become a section of one of the walls of his office, the middle-aged executive chided himself for losing his temper.

‘Warin, you are getting old! You’ve always protected the company and rarely let a subcontractor get on your nerves. This one is no different. She is as good as any jaghund you’ve set loose. Maybe better. Chill.”

Laughing at his use of language more appropriate to his children, (or so he thought, incorrectly), the Director of Corporate History and Special Archives moved his left hand towards the palm reader built into the wall. His mind already on the coming day’s appointments, a sound he’d never heard abruptly returned him to the present.

The phone inside his private communications center was ringing.

Turning back towards the secure room, he reached for the phone like a man who was afraid of dogs trying to pat a wolf.

“Good morning, Herr Schader, this is Anya Claireaux from the Omni Corporation. Let me assure you this line is still secure.”

If Warin’s company, Bayer AG, was the mansion set a tasteful distance off the road, manicured lawns accentuated by mature trees, then Anya’s company, the Omni Corp, was the shiny-glass, jutting-angles contemporary built on three lots of treasured mansions, torn down to allow a view of Lake Michigan. The first house cost a fortune to maintain, the second, a fortune to build.

In Leverkusen, Germany, Warin Schader held the title of Director and was responsible for over-seeing all projects not part of Bayer’s mainstream business. He was, arguably, the third most powerful man in the multinational corporation.

In Chicago, Illinois, Anya Claireaux’s business card read: Executive Administrative Assistant. There were those who said she ran Omni Corporation. She’d insist all she really did was watch over the health of the company.

“Thank you for taking my call.” Modern digital circuits mercifully, if not un-intentionally, stripped any note of irony from the woman’s voice.

Despite having spent his career keeping secrets, Warin Schader’s confidence began to erode like a child’s sandcastle before a rising tide. A younger Warin would have cut off the connection, the older, hearing the seductive whispers of curiosity, did not. The red flag he missed was the simple fact that he was not the next person to speak.

“Warin, my company, the Omni Corporation, is in the information business. We provide the infrastructure and management services that assure our clients receive the intelligence and data they need, when they need it.”

The woman’s voice held the somber concern of an oncologist explaining to her patient the treatment options available.

“I received a phone call the other day from a friend, someone I trust. It seems a friend of hers happened upon information that didn’t belong to her. She was concerned that the rightful owner might think that her friend stole it, or maybe even didn’t realize it was missing. You can appreciate how worried my friend was, can’t you?”

The silence on the line gave Warin the ample opportunity not to mistake the question as rhetorical. Grimacing at the thought of how long he’d hesitated, replied,

“I can easily imagine how important this must have seemed to your friend.”

The Director felt his confidence stutter at a shift in the character of the other voice.

“I know! And I was all, like, ‘Well just mail it back to whoever owns it!’ But she told me her friend was scared that people were after her, to get it back. Did I mention this information was on one of those thumb drive thingies?”

More prepared for a question this time, Warin replied,

“Why no, Ms. Claireaux, I do not believe you did.”

“How silly of me! Well, you must’ve been thinking, what is this woman talking about! Men coming to take back their information! What, were they going to cut her head off and bring it back to Leverkusen? In any event, I know it’s getting towards lunch out there in the Vaterland, so let me get to the reason for my call.”

This time the pause did not require a response. It did, however, demand his attention.

“You call off the termination order on my friend. And anyone else associated with this misplaced thumb drive and your little Tree of Life program stays private with me. I guarantee everything remains confidential. Will you do that for me?”

Warin started to respond when he was interrupted by a voice devoid of friendly interest, or human compassion, for that matter.

“Anything less than that, and the very first thing I do is release the complete story of your Arbovitae Verbessern experiment onto the world wide web. The second thing I will do is post the names and addresses of every living relative you have, starting with your wife and children. Did I mention that Omni Corp is one of the top three internet service providers? And, don’t tell anyone, but a significant portion of our revenue flows from the Dark Web. Wait, I’m sorry, I forget what it is you do for Bayer.

In any event, I will make certain that every node in the internet that attracts the child molesters and hobby-killers will know where your family is at all times.

Can you do me this little favor, Warin?”

The woman in Chicago laughed. The middle-aged man in Leverkusen felt the hair on his neck rise as sound acquired an overtone and the most primitive part of his brain screamed soundlessly to flee, find higher ground…to run away.

“Yes. I will cancel all retrieval efforts immediately.”

“That makes me feel good, Warin. I can’t wait to tell my friends that they don’t have to worry about a thing anymore. And! I can cancel my call to my friends at the African Union. You’ve done well, Warin. I owe you one. Don’t hesitate to call if you need any help. Talk to ya later, Schader!”

With a laugh of a girl who just sold her first ad in the high school yearbook, Anya Claireaux cut off the connection to Warin Schader’s secure phone line.