"committed" By A.r. Kirby -- Episode 02: 'christian Meets His Destiny'

COMMITTED by A.R. Kirby

Episode 2 Chrstian, meet Destiny. Destiny, this is Christian. Play nice.

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hinking back, Christian remembered the car did not move an inch in more than 20 minutes, and it appeared that inertia had set in for the duration. “How far are we from the hospital?” Christian asked. “Oh, maybe four or five blocks, I’m not really sure,” Ivan replied. “Why?” “I can’t wait for a bunch of dumbass students to wise up and get out of the rain,” Christian said as he pulled on the door handle. A gust of wind blew a sheet of water into the passenger side as he stepped out of the car. “I’m going to run for it,” he shouted. “Call me later, Ivan.” The storm was at its heaviest as Christian ran down the street, passing a number of dazed students. He wondered why they looked as if they’d been beaten, but the thought quickly left him as got closer to the hospital. He finally turned a corner and skidded into the lobbyturned-triage area of the KBC Hospital. He cringed a bit as he passed the students waiting for treatment, then finally found the charge nurse. She told him quickly and curtly the demonstration had turned into a full-fledged riot; she was far too busy to talk about his father; and that someone would be with him when they got to it. She then directed him to an empty chair in the waiting room.

Committed by A.R. Kirby Some day, he thought, and waited. “Gospodin McKenna?” Christian looked up abruptly to see who had spoken his name, slinging a deluge from his hair onto the face of the doctor who’d just come into the waiting room to talk to him. The doctor removed his thick, black-rimmed glasses and wiped them on the sleeve of his white jacket with a practiced ease, as if patients were forever slinging water into his face, then continued speaking. “Yes, yes, Mister McKenna,” the doctor said, his accent thick and heavy. “Forgive me, please. My English is not so good. We don’t get many English-speaking patients here in the hospital. In any case, I am Dr. Rushkin, and I am in charge of caring for your father.” Christian stood, and stiffly shook the doctor’s hand. “My pleasure, doctor. I only wish it were under different circumstances. What can you tell me about my father?” “Come with me, please,” the doctor said, and led Christian gingerly through the emergency attendees through a door outside the lobby and into a quiet hallway. The doctor turned to Christian and began flipping through the thick sheaf of papers on the clipboard he carried. Christian stared down impatiently. “Your father,” the doctor said as he consulted the pages, “suffered a major heart attack. It was extremely serious, and did much damage to his heart. He is stable at the moment, but his condition is very – how do you say – touch and going? We are doing everything we can to make him comfortable, but I cannot say whether he will make it through the night.” Christian hissed a curse under his breath, then focused his attention on the doctor. “What’s the prognosis, assuming he makes it until morning?” he asked. “Well, as I said, it was a massive heart attack. We still don’t know exactly how much damage was done, and until he is more stable, we won’t be able to tell. A bypass may be necessary, but at this point, it’s still too early to…” A soggy, muffled buzz – sounding eerily like the chorus of the Foo Fighters’ “All My Life” , but a version performed 2

Episode 2 underwater – struggled out from Christian’s suit coat and interrupted the doctor’s prognosis. Christian reached inside and pulled out his cell phone like he was holding a dead fish. He tentatively flipped it open and heard a static-filled voice come from the soggy speaker. “Ivan, I can barely hear you.” Christian pressed the phone hard into his ear. “What do you need?” “Did you make it to the hospital? Do you know anything about Seamus?” Ivan sounded as worried as Christian had ever heard him. “Yes and yes,” Christian said. “I’m here, it’s a war zone, and Seamus is just about dead.” Christian looked closely at the doctor, searching for a sign that would contradict his statement. There was none. “He likely won’t make it through the night.” “I’m so sorry, my boy,” Ivan said. “I’ve known your father for a long time. I’ve known you all your life.” Ivan’s voice broke briefly, then the familiar rasp returned. “You’re like a son to me. How can I help?” Christian thought for a moment and looked briefly at the doctor. With a sudden flash of inspiration, he turned his attention back to Ivan. “There are a few things,” Christian murmured. “We need to keep focused, Ivan. With my father out of commission, things could get rough for the company. We’ve got too much invested in the new Robotics Division to let things get out of hand.” Ivan didn’t have to respond for Christian to know how well Ivan understood what he meant. McKenna-Montenegro Enterprises spent billions over the past decade to get the state-of-the art robotics facility off the drawing board and into reality. Scheduled to start production in a mere six weeks, delays at this point could prove to be a major setback. “What’s our next step there, Ivan?” Christian asked. He was well-versed with the plans for the Robotics Division, having traveled most of Eastern Europe to get investors (some of whom with less-than-glowing résumés), but he was not part of the day-today details. 3

Committed by A.R. Kirby “Seamus was expected to tour the aluminum smelting plant on Friday to ensure it would be adequate for the new Robotics Division’s needs,” the Croatian replied. “It is essentially a formality, little more than a V.I.P. tour of the facility. I imagine we will be canceling the inspection.” Christian thought for a moment. Now, with his father at death’s door, would be the time to show some sort of initiative. Cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder, Christian motioned to the doctor, then pulled the clipboard from his hands while quickly retrieving a pen from the doctor’s coat pocket. “Ivan, call a meeting of the board of directors for first thing in the morning. I’ll let them know that we’ll keep the Robotics Division on schedule,” Christian surprised himself with the authority he heard in his voice. “I’ll make sure things happen the way they are supposed to happen, and do the inspection myself. Now give me the details.” Christian scribbled hurried notes as Ivan gave him the information. A few “uh-huhs”, followed by a “Got it!”, and the conversation was over. Christian ripped the page he’d been writing on from the clipboard, then handed the materials back to the stillstartled doctor. “Doctor, I appreciate everything you are doing for my father,” Christian said seriously, “And I am sure he will receive the highest quality care here at your fine facility, despite the current unpleasantness.” Christian motioned to the door to the lobby, where occasional moans from patients and shrieks from the charge nurse could still be heard, then reached for his wallet and pulled out four 500-euro notes. He crushed the bills into the doctor’s hand. Sometimes the old ways of getting things done are still the best ways, Christian thought, despite what the injured students outside might believe. “Please make sure he is comfortable and makes it through the night,” he said, and let go of the doctor’s hand. The doctor looked at the money, scanned the hallway to see if anyone else was around, and put the bills into the pocket of 4

Episode 2 his white lab coat. “Of course, Godspodin McKenna, your father will have the finest care available. I will see to it personally.” The doctor practically beamed at Christian. “Please do,” Christian said as he turned and pushed open the door to the lobby. “And let me know if there are any changes in his condition. I’ll be at home, and up all night. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” Christian made his way back through the lobby, ignoring the groans of the injured. By this time the storm had let up, as well as the problems from the demonstration; Mischa was waiting for him outside the front door of the hospital with a car. The ride to Christian’s townhouse was quick, and he told Mischa to be prepared for a full day’s work the next morning as he got out of the car. He went inside, showered, and spent much of the rest of the night working on his laptop, researching the plans for the robotics division and looking over information on members of the board of directors. Doctor Rushkin called him three times during the night, updating Christian on his father’s condition; Seamus still lived, but that was about the extent of it. Around 4 a.m., Christian called it quits and got a couple hours of sleep. Thursday morning came with a beautiful dawn; it was as if the storms of the previous afternoon and evening had scrubbed Podgorica clean. Most mornings when he woke in his townhouse in Podgorica, Christian would pound the snooze button five or six times when the alarm clock sounded. This often owed to a significant hangover or (just as likely, and probably in combination with) the proximity of a random attractive young woman from the McKenna-Montenegro Enterprises secretarial pool. Today, however, the crash of a groggily-tossed alarm clock hitting the wall was absent from his bedroom. There was much to do, and although he only had a couple hours’ sleep, Christian awoke refreshed and eager, more a result of adrenaline and excitement than anything else. He quickly showered, dressed, and headed for the MME plant. By 8 a.m., Christian was pulling his silver BMW coupe onto the entry road that snaked almost a mile through the woods to the main MME facility. As he came out of the forest canopy, he 5

Committed by A.R. Kirby saw the new robotics facility gleaming in the morning sunlight; the chrome and glass construction was almost blinding. He parked in his father’s parking space (Seamus certainly wouldn’t be needing it today) and strode confidently up the stairs and into the building, then straight to the conference room overlooking the soon-to-bebustling robotics factory floor. Christian paused in front of the conference room doors before entering, and took a deep breath. He chose this room for the meeting, even though construction was not quite complete, because he felt it would bolster his argument to have the board members imagining the factory floor buzzing with activity. He also thought the newness of the building would be a subtle analogy for the new direction he wanted to take. In any case, he thought, it’s time, and pushed open the conference room doors. Ivan, seated to the right of the head of the table where Seamus would normally sit, arose when he saw Christian arrive, and again gave him a hug that Christian was sure bruised at least one rib. He motioned for Christian to take his place at the head of the table, then stood to address the dozen or so board members gathered for the meeting. “Gentlemen,” Ivan began, his tone somber and direct. “Our company has suffered a tragedy. Seamus McKenna, our founder and leader, had a massive heart attack yesterday. His condition is currently stable, but that can change at any time. As we all know, Seamus is the driving force behind McKenna-Montenegro, and his condition may well have a major effect on our plans.” Ivan then motioned toward Christian. “You all know Seamus’ son, Christian. He has been involved with the Robotics Division plans from the beginning, and was in Prague yesterday where he finalized a major line of credit for the company. He asked to meet with you all today to discuss where our plans go from here.” Ivan sat down, and Christian stood. He cleared his throat and began his address. “Gentlemen,” Christian began, looking each director in the 6

Episode 2 eye as he scanned the table, “I appreciate you coming on such short notice, but I think you appreciate the urgency of the situation.” “Yes, Christian,” interrupted a man at the far end of the table who Christian recognized as Ouroslav Petrovich, a longtime member of the board and one of his father’s running buddies from his smuggling days. “How is Seamus?” “Thank you for asking,” Christian replied. “As Ivan said, he is stable, but he is not well. I’ve been in touch with the doctors at the hospital almost constantly, and they are doing everything they can for him. He is in intensive care, and specialists have been brought in to see that he is around for the opening of the Robotics Division. But that is not why we’re here today. “Although Seamus is the driving force behind our plans, his illness is no reason for us to delay the opening of the robotics division,” Christian assured the directors. “I’ve been studying the plans, and I am confident we will be able to begin our operations on time and on budget.” Almost on cue, Mischa entered the conference room and began handing out information packets to each of the board members. Christian continued. “As you will see in the information being distributed to you, I am taking control of the Robotics Division project.” He held up a hand to the board members who began to interject. “I know many of you do not think I have the experience with the company to handle such an important operation, and granted, much of my work here has been of lesser import. But now is the time for me to stand up as a McKenna and make sure this grand company continues the work my father started. And I will begin by touring the aluminum plant tomorrow in my father’s absence. When he returns, I will, of course, hand the project back to him. But for now, the Robotics Division is mine.” Christian held his breath for a moment, waiting for the disagreement that never arose. Several of the board members looked at each other questioningly, but no one made a sound until Ivan stood up and clapped the younger McKenna on the shoulder. “Excellent, my boy. Most excellent!” Ivan looked and sounded like a proud uncle. “You are just the man to make sure 7

Committed by A.R. Kirby the family name continues, and I know, as do the rest of the board members, that you will come through for all of us in this difficult time. Do we all agree?” Christian smiled as the heads around the table nodded. They bought it, and Christian was determined to make certain they were pleased with the decision. Ivan looked at Christian and shook his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. McKenna,” he said smiling. “I look forward to working with you.” He patted Christian on the back once more then sat down. “Thank you, gentlemen. I know you will not be disappointed.” Christian gathered his belongings into his briefcase and headed for the door. “And if you will excuse me, I have a great deal of work to do.” There was laughter all around as he left the conference room. As soon as he got out the door, the laughter stopped, and the assembled directors began babbling and shouting with each other about the absolute idiocy of the situation. Ivan sat quietly, reviewing some of the papers Christian distributed. Some of the ideas the boy had aren’t half bad, he thought, as the uproar continued around him unabated. It’s a pity. Slowly, Ivan stood, generally unnoticed by the other men in the room. But when he quietly cleared his throat, all discussion stopped and the directors returned to their seats, all eyes on Ivan. He moved to the head of the table, then spoke. “Gentlemen,” he said, his face deathly serious, “There is no doubt we have a serious problem. But not to worry, not to worry -I’ve got this handled.” To be continued...

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