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	{{EnemyMe\|title=Chapter Seventeen\|chapter text=<center> Chapter 17</center><br>		{{EnemyMe\|title=Chapter Seventeen\|chapter text=<center>Chapter 17</center><br>
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	Rick and Barbara walked into the Lo’tion. It was unusually crowded for this time of day. Sarah greeted Rick with a warm smile. She walked over and brushed her hand over his. <br>		Rick and Barbara walked into the Lo’tion. It was unusually crowded for this time of day. Sarah greeted Rick with a warm smile. She walked over and brushed her hand over his. <br>

Commandadmin: Created page with "{{EnemyMe|title=Chapter Seventeen|chapter text= Chapter 17

Rick and Barbara walked into the Lo’tion. It was unusually crowded for this time of day. Sarah greeted Rick with a warm smile. She walked over and brushed her hand over his.
He smiled, “Hey Sarah. You look nice.”
She blushed. “Thanks.”
Barbara puffed her cheeks out as if about to throw up. “Love birds. Ah yes, I remember the moment. Pleasant. Hey Sarah, I’m hun..."

2025-01-24T09:29:18Z

Created page with "{{EnemyMe|title=Chapter Seventeen|chapter text=<center> Chapter 17</center> Rick and Barbara walked into the Lo’tion. It was unusually crowded for this time of day. Sarah greeted Rick with a warm smile. She walked over and brushed her hand over his. He smiled, “Hey Sarah. You look nice.” She blushed. “Thanks.” Barbara puffed her cheeks out as if about to throw up. “Love birds. Ah yes, I remember the moment. Pleasant. Hey Sarah, I’m hun..."

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{{EnemyMe|title=Chapter Seventeen|chapter text=<center> Chapter 17</center> 
 
Rick and Barbara walked into the Lo’tion. It was unusually crowded for this time of day. Sarah greeted Rick with a warm smile. She walked over and brushed her hand over his. 
He smiled, “Hey Sarah. You look nice.” 
She blushed. “Thanks.” 
Barbara puffed her cheeks out as if about to throw up. “Love birds. Ah yes, I remember the moment. Pleasant. Hey Sarah, I’m hungry.” She looked around. “Got a table for us? This place is crowded. You guys ran some ad on the local stream?” 
Sarah shook her head, “No, but man has it been busy. Nearly everyone here is trying a Pastrami on Baguette.” 
Barbara said, “Seriously? Is it really that good?” 
Sarah nodded, “It is. Mel’s outdone himself. He uses the best baguettes, which we are fast running out of, fresh romaine, tomatoes, white onions, and pastrami sautéed in Olive oil, chopped green onions and chopped garlic.” She started walking to an empty booth at the far end of the diner. “It started picking up this morning around breakfast and hasn’t let up. We got a few couples who had breakfast, left, and came back for lunch.” 
Rick whistled as he sat down opposite Barbara. “Sounds like tourist.” 
Sarah nodded. “Most of the folks are shopping the mall. Three said some friends told them about the Lo’tion.” 
“Good friends,” Rick grunted. 
“I’d say,” Barbara replied. “I think I know what I want.” She puckered her lips and smiled. 
Rick said, “But what about food?” 
Barbara launched a kick at Rick whose legs were not there. 
He laughed and kicked back. He felt her shin and was satisfied he probably gave her a bruise. 
Barbara barely flinched. She lowered her head and squinted her eyes. 
Rick swallowed hard, turned pale and thought, ‘Oh, shit! I’m doomed.’ 
Barbara smiled, satisfied that Rick got the message. 
Sarah coughed. “Are you two secretly married?” 
“This is what happens when partners work together for years.” 
Rick said, “Sarah, I think I’ll be hanging out with you for a while. I need a witness.” 
Barbara gave Rick the middle finger. “He’ll have a Pastrami baguette, too. Hold the onions for him . . .” 
“Hey!” Rick interrupted. “I think I can order my own . . .” 
Barbara turned her head toward Sarah. 
Sarah nodded. “No onions for Rick.” She smiled and walked away to place the order. 
Rick watched as Sarah approached the kitchen door. He noted how her skirt hugged tightly around her hips. 
“Tiger, down.” Barbara joked. 
Rick slowly tore his eyes away from Sarah as she disappeared behind the kitchen door. “What?” 
Barbara smiled, “You two getting serious?” 
His smile was faint. 
Approvingly Barbara nodded. “Good. I noticed you stopped consuming gum.” 
Rick thought for a moment. He searched his jacket pockets. Barb was right. The urge for smoking was gone. Damn her. One more thing she would rub his nose in. 
 
*** 
 
The trip to Mr. Donald J Martin’s home took about two hours. Muhammad had insisted the meeting be face to face. They had to show Mr. Martin the articles in hardcopy, the photos, the graphs, and reports. He had to listen to some of the recordings and he had to read some of the emails. He was old-fashioned and insisted on feeling paper or listening to speech. He signed contracts with a pen and paid his employees with a personal check. Payroll dealt with taxes of course, but he wanted to be known to his employees as a Boss who paid them out of his own pocket, at least as much out of his own pocket as a billionaire could. 
Mr. Martin had been nice enough to send Muhammad and Walter a limo. Walt hoped they could leave that way instead of having to call for a cab, which was quite possible. Mr. Martin, when pissed, had been known to show his guests the door and walk away without any parting words. 
 
Walter stepped out of the Limo. The long winding path from the front gate to the main house took about 15 minutes. During that time Walter marveled at the sheer waste of money. Tall oak trees lined either side of the path toward the house with the road paved in tan-yellow bricks. Several years ago, Mr. Martin’s oldest daughter finally married. Forrest was there. Muhammad and Vannessa covered the story. Vannessa did photos while Muhammad wrote the article. The story ran with the title, “A Road Paved in Honey.” And it looked the part.
“Please follow me,” one of Martin’s many staffers said while gesturing toward the main house. 
Walter walked up the long flight of stairs to two tall massive front doors. “Seriously,” he said out loud. 
Muhammad nodded, “Money is money. Wait until you see the inside.” 
“Welcome to the Estate, Good Sirs.” Said a man dressed in a black jacket with rather long tails and black creased trousers. His white shirt seemed too white. It seemed to glow in the sun light. 
Walter had to shake his head to snap out of the obvious daze he was in. The doorman smiled. The effect always took the first timer by surprise. 
“Welcome to the Home,” the Doorman said. 
Walter nodded. He stepped through the doorway and was hit with a sudden case of agoraphobia. The inner foyer was expansive. Tall thick columns supported vaulted ceilings at least twenty feet high. The floor made of a translucent reflective material sheened to mimic a deep canyon. “You want me to walk across that?” 
Muhammad laughed. “The first time I walked through those doors I nearly passed out. As I said. Money is money.” 
Someone softly coughed behind Walter. “Please follow me.” 
Walter and Muhammad followed the man through a passage way off from the main path. The corridor took them through several turns to eventually open up into a modest sized room. Each wall was covered with books. A solid oak desk was nestled in between two tall solid wood bookshelves. 
Donald J Martin stood up from the desk. He walked around it and greeted Muhammad warmly with a firm handshake. He turned to Walter. “Mr. Kincaid, so very nice to meet you.” 
Walter took his handshake. The man’s hand was cool, almost too cool for his liking. It felt odd to the touch, but Walt returned the firm grip. 
“Please, have a seat gentlemen.” 
Muhammad sat. “Thank you, sir.” He handed a wad of thick envelopes to a staffer waiting. 
The staffer accepted the material and stepped over to Mr. Martin’s desk. He reached into the large envelope and pulled the SolidState Drives out first. Next came the plastic back binder notebooks. He handed those to Martin. The SolidState Drives he inserted into the appropriate slots on the side of the desk. 
Martin sat back in his chair. He listened to the audios while reading through the notebooks. 
Muhammad and Walter waited quietly. It took Martin about an hour to finish reading all the transcripts, reports, emails, and articles. He looked over to Muhammad, who looked over to the Staffer. The man nodded, turned and walked toward a wet bar off in the corner of the office. A few minutes later he came back with two drinks. A Rum and Coke for Muhammad and a Cape Cod for Walter. 
Walter accepted the drink with wide eyes. “How?” He whispered. 
Muhammad shrugged, “ESP, maybe. Enjoy and relax. Food is next.” 
Walter frowned. “How wou . . .” 
Another Staffer walked in with a small table. Assorted fruit, vegetables and small ham, turkey, tofu, and pastrami sandwiches adorned the top. She left the small table between the two and walked out. 
Muhammad shrugged, smiled, and popped a red grape into his mouth. 
Martin cleared his throat. 
Walter and Muhammad looked up. 
“You know I’m on the board?” 
Both men nodded. 
“You also know I have a lot of money invested in Forever Live?” 
Walter swallowed the thick lump that formed in the middle of his throat. Where was the man going with this he thought? 
“And you come here with information that could bring the company to near bankruptcy.” Martin slammed his fist onto the desk. 
Walter and Muhammad flinched. 
“What the fuck is wrong with this picture?” Martin yelled. 
Walter’s heart sank. The man was going to kill the story and toss them out. 
Martin took a deep breath and scratched underneath his chin. He gave the two men a hard stare. Muhammad looked away but Walter locked gaze. After a minute Martin smiled. “Run it,” he said. 
Walter blurted, “But, sir, you can’t . . . wait . . . what?” 
“Run the series.” 
Muhammad frowned. “As is, sir? No changes?” 
“None. That arrogant son of a bitch will get what he deserves. He muscled me out of the chair, so this is payback. The morning this hits the Net I’ll call an emergency meeting.” He laughed out loud. “Can’t wait to see that smug look wiped off his face.” 
Muhammad nodded. “Understood, sir.” 
“Damn, this is going to be bitter sweet.” Martin reached over and pulled a remote phone from its cradle. He dialed a number and waited a few seconds. “Ted, me Martin. You still got controlling stock?” He listened for a few minutes. “I got something to boost your ratings. What? How’d you get the info?” He covered the mike part. “One of his guys received a packet last night. Had lots of info on Forever Life and Forrest.” He placed the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, same thing. My guys have worked the angle already. We release tomorrow morning . . . yeah . . . okay . . . not really . . . Sounds like a good idea . . . we can do that.” He covered the mike. “Are we ready to release in one hour?” 
Muhammad went wide-eyed. He stammered a second, thought about it, then nodded. 
Martin smiled, “Yeah . . . yeah . . . that works. Hey, you’re heading up to Juno tomorrow? Wanna catch the race? I got the new deck built. You can see the entire course . . . good. Meet you up there in twelve.” He hung the phone up. “Well, Muhammad, Global Informational News is going live in an hour. Make it happen.” 
Muhammad and Walter nodded. 
A Staffer walked up to the men and gestured toward the door. 
Walter nearly stumbled out of the chair. “Thank you, sir.” 
Martin looked up from his computer screen, nodded and went back to viewing. 
Walter had to hurry to catch up to Muhammad. ‘Oh boy oh boy,” was his thought. This is gonna get ugly. 

 
}}

Enemy Chapter Seventeen - Revision history

Commandadmin at 09:29, 24 January 2025