CARTER'S DUTY: WILLIAM CARTER
III
Chapter 22 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
The drive to work the next day allowed him an opportunity to
reflect as he wound his way directly towards his office. Andrew hadn't come
home after the wedding and Will had collected the keys to his Jeep from the
valet and had driven home alone at the end of the reception. After the madness
of the last few days, returning to the normal routine did not appeal to him.
But life went on, and so did he.
Jeff and Lisa were probably in Niagara for their honeymoon,
Lisa's father's wedding gift to them. The newlyweds were embarking on their
new lives together in style. Jared was at work by now down on Bank Street,
crunching numbers and quaking in fear after Kerry had so nimbly caught the
bouquet. There were only so many excuses Jared could have to dodge that bullet,
and Kerry had caught wedding fever. Will gave them a couple of months before
she arranged a shotgun wedding.
Jeff's parents were due to leave that afternoon, and Will regretted
not having another day to see them off. He would miss Mrs. Sternosti's cooking,
and more importantly her coffee. There was a definite thrill to having people
in his house and in his life. His home was usually so quiet, sedate, but the
last few days it had resonated with life. He would miss that the most.
At least Brody was staying for a few more days. He had business
in Ottawa (or so he claimed). It still bothered Will that no one really knew
what Brody did, or where his money came from. But then who really needed to
know. Brody was who he was. He had been sitting out on the terrace with Delia
Anders at the end of the evening, the two smoking cigarettes and talking abut
nothing. Will found it odd; Brody had been seen seducing all three bridesmaids
as well as Maria and had Delia eating out of the palm of his hand, but had
chosen to leave the party alone. Some times figuring Brody out was impossible.
He was just one of those people who defied definition.
But that was the point; they were all like that in their own
ways. You couldn't pin a label on any of them and expect them to perform exactly
as they were supposed to. They were human beings and they could change; wasn't
it the capacity for change that made them alive? Will himself had been called
upon to change over the last few days. He wasn't content just to ride on the
coattails of the status quo. How could he when everything around him changed?
He had to grow up some time; it might as well be now.
He rolled down the window of his Jeep and turned up the music,
they were playing one of Delia Anders' songs on the Bear and it warmed him
with memories of the night before. Of Lisa and Jeff cutting the wedding cake.
Of Brody's dance with Maria...or Andrew under the stars telling him that he
loved him. He smiled as he slipped on his sunglasses and settled back to enjoy
the drive. It was Thursday morning; his office building loomed ahead and work
called.
But for a few more minutes at least he could pretend the world
waited for a small group of friends who had grown up together and supported
each other when they needed it.
He swept the Jeep into the parking lot and grabbed his jacket
from the back seat, stopping only a moment to look up at the red brick building
that he worked in, back to real life.
He walked through the double doors and into the call centre,
noting that he was early; the agents were lurking about the cafeteria and
the coffee maker talking amongst themselves. A few saw him and the friendly
"Good Morning Mister Carter," met his passage. He enjoyed their
warmth and returned a few of the hello's as he made a steady passage to his
office.
He hesitated as he noticed Alicia already at her desk, an ashen
look on her face. He stopped and set his briefcase down on the edge of her
desk and looked at her in concern. He had seen that look before when her mother
had passed away. It was a look of terrible loss.
She continued to talk on the phone, taking notes as she looked
up at him with saddened eyes. She reached out and scribbled a note on the
edge of her pad of paper as she glanced towards the far office where Scott
Anderson undoubtedly lurked.
"Watch your back," Will read. His eyes flicked up
to meet hers and then over to Anderson's office. A cold feeling spread through
him as he steeled himself. Something was wrong and he was a day out of touch
with what had happened. He bit his lip as he considered his possible avenues
for finding out what was going on. He needed to be prepared.
Will collected his briefcase and walked into his office, and
stopped dead.
It was empty.
The wall charts had been erased. His files were gone. Even the
diary with his appointments in it was gone. It was like someone had reached
in and torn the soul out of the room. Anything that had distinguished it as
his office was gone, leaving it barren. But when he glanced back to see Alicia
staring after him with tears in her eyes, and he looked back at his desk,
pieces began to fall together.
He set his briefcase and coat down on the desk as he walked
out of the office, passing Brad who headed to cut him off.
"Scott is looking for you..." Brad said softly.
Will looked at the supervisor who struggled to keep his face
devoid of emotion and he nodded. "I am just on my way to find him."
Brad nodded and glanced towards the doors that led to manager
country, "They are in the board room." He smiled tightly, "Good
luck bud."
Will stared at the two large black doors and back at Brad. "Cheers,
mate."
He took a deep breath as he punched in the access code to let
him through the doors and stepped through to the corporate side.
It was like he stepped from night into day. Where the call centre
was tattered and threadbare, the corporate office was plush, almost luxurious.
Here the paint was fresh and the chairs were real leather. There were no outdated
motivational posters or dead fluorescent lights. Here was where the money
went when it came in for the children. He felt uncomfortable almost immediately;
he hated the corporate side of the business, and the politics that flowed
almost as readily as the lies they told their customers. Here the rules were
different, and the stakes of the game were much higher.
He climbed the stairs and entered the main lobby and rested
a hand on the reception desk. The receptionist was a pretty little thing who
had been promoted from the sales floor at just about the same time as Will
had started working for the company. She had a reputation for having earned
her position the hard way.
"Hello, Mandy," he said calmly. "Where are they?"
She looked up at him and feigned ignorance to who he was; she
looked down at her appointment book, "Who are you looking for, Mister
Carter?"
He arched an eyebrow, "Mister Anderson is expecting me."
Now was hardly the time for him to be treated like a stranger. He felt his
irritation getting the better of him and he made a concerted effort to calm
himself.
Mandy flipped through her book, "Just have a seat, Mister
Carter, and I will see if they are ready for you yet."
She got out of her seat and knocked gently on the door to the
boardroom, which she slipped through a few moments later. Will caught sight
of a number of senior management, including the regional manager. So much
for this being simple.
He straightened his tie and was glad that he had decided to
wear a freshly-pressed shirt that morning. It wasn't every day a human resource
manager of an insignificant call centre was summoned before senior management.
At least he would have the dignity of being well-dressed for what was to come.
She returned, "They aren't ready for you yet, Mister Carter.
Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?"
Will frowned, "Yes," he murmured as he stared in puzzlement
at the boardroom.
He had waited for hours. He sat in the comfortable seat and
stared out of the lobby windows at the main street and counted coloured cars.
He would have appreciated some decent reading material and the only thing
on hand was the company's quarterly report. He wasn't in the mood for fiction.
He supposed it was to be expected that he would be kept waiting.
He was a minor functionary in the corporate structure. One of the lowest managers
they had out of twenty odd offices across North America. Charity was big business,
and these men and women had no time for him. Why then was he summoned to their
presence?
He blew out a sigh of frustration and looked at his watch; he
had work to do, or should have work to do. But if they wanted to pay him just
to sit there and drink coffee...
At least it was good coffee, fresh and piping hot. He could
taste the fine grade of the Colombian roast. It was definitely better than
the swill they served to the employees downstairs who earned them the money
so that they could buy it in the first place. Ironic, really; capitalism the
best scam the world ever conceived. Not that communism was much better; on
the scale of scams it ranked a close second.
He gave a mental shrug and went back to watching the street;
if they wanted to talk to him as badly as they seemed to, he just had to sit
patiently and wait. Perhaps their goal was to make him impatient, restless,
and nervous. A person in that frame of mind would usually panic... make a
mistake. Well, they were dealing with him now, and he wasn't about to fall
into whatever trap had been laid for him.
He tried to work through the chain of events that could possibly
have led to him being seated there. It couldn't have been the fact he had
taken the day off the day before. He had paperwork signed to show he was authorized
to be away, and industrial tribunal would agree with him that was no cause
for dismissal...
He chewed on that thought for a moment; Scott had threatened
him the morning before. But that was about commitment to the firm, and if
he was to be fired for a `lack of commitment,' that wouldn't take the board
of directors three hours of meetings to decide.
There was his objection to the termination of all those agents.
But that wasn't an official objection, he had complied with Scott's instructions.
He had hated signing the pink slips, but he had still done as he had been
told. Scott couldn't throw that at him, not with any kind of justification.
Again it wasn't a matter for the board of directors to meet over.
No, he surmised, there was something more important happening,
he could smell it in the air. He had a right to be worried, there was a serious
edge to what was unfolding. The demonstration of chaos theory Brody had given
the night before worried Will. One simple action had led to a chain of seemingly
random events that had culminated in the exact result Brody had set out for.
He had a feeling that he was now caught in an example that was more complex.
There were balls and levers moving so rapidly that he had missed them. And
this time Brody wasn't there to explain what was happened.
The doors finally opened and Scott Anderson walked out of the
boardroom. He spared a glance at Will, a look that spoke volumes. There was
concern there, but not for Will's well-being, it was a look of self-preservation,
a look of cold calculation on the part of a man who was worried for himself.
A look that attempted to gauge what way a leaf would fall. A look that gave
Will a certain amount of reassurance. It wasn't his neck on the line.
He stood up and nodded to Scott as he looked at the director
who waved him into the boardroom. He squared his shoulders, a knight rising
from his vigil to do battle once again. He smiled softly as he stepped up
to the challenge. He entered the room and found himself standing before them
like a man on trial. He regarded each of them emotionlessly, now came the
moment of truth.
"Mister William Carter?" The CEO of the firm inquired
looking up from his yellow legal pad of notes, "You're the HR manager
from downstairs?"
Will inclined his head, "That is correct."
"Is this your signature?" The Director of human resources
lifted a stack of signed termination slips.
Will frowned, "Yes, that is my signature. What is this
about?"
The board exchanged uncomfortable looks with each other; the
CEO spoke slowly and deliberately, "Mister Carter does it make sound
business sense to lay off thirty-five people in a single day?"
Will shook his head, "Absolutely not, sir."
"So why did you fire that many people on Tuesday?"
the HR director asked sternly.
"I was instructed by my manager Scott Anderson to remove
agents that were not producing sales." Will became uneasy, "I was
given a list of people to terminate and I complied with my instructions."
The board exchanged another look and a couple exchanged low
whispers; the CEO looked puzzled, "The operations Manager, Scott Anderson,
states that he had no knowledge of the termination order. He claims you acted
without his instruction."
Will went cold. "That son of a bitch," he said softly.
"I beg your pardon?" the CEO asked as his head snapped
up.
Will looked him straight in the eye, "That is an outright
lie, sir. I received clear instructions from Scott Anderson as to what I was
supposed to do. Brad Gilmour can attest to that, sir. He even added to my
list."
The CEO blew out a sigh, "Look son, I have to deal with
the fact that one of my call centres is now down nearly a fifth of its salesmen.
I have an operations manager who claims you acted without his knowledge and
I have a stack of thirty-five termination orders with your signature on them.
You know how this looks, Mister Carter?"
Will looked down at the termination orders and then back up
at the CEO, "On Tuesday, just before lunch Mister Anderson called me
into the cafeteria to tell me he had a plan. He then took me out onto the
sales floor and instructed me to select people, and I am quoting here, `that
did not belong'. I did as I was told and I selected ten individuals."
He clasped his hands behind his back tightly, "Mister Anderson proceeded
to add more names to that list and when I returned to my office Mister Gilmour
had added a further series of names to that list. I had been instructed to
get rid of them before the end of the working day and I did my job."
"Your job, Mister Carter," the Director of HR stated
coldly, "was to staff the call centre, not to lay off a large amount
of its work force. How many absentees do you have on the average day?"
Will did a quick mental check, "Usually around forty."
"So add that to the lay offs," the CEO tapped his
pen on the tabletop, "and I have a call centre operating at less than
half capacity."
Will set his shoulders, "An aggressive recruitment campaign,
my department can have those seats filled..."
"You're not going to get that chance, Mister Carter,"
the CEO said bluntly. "I can't take the risk that you did this without
authorization. So I have decided to restructure the Ottawa Call centre."
"And what does that mean for me?" Will asked, and
he waited for the hammer to fall.
The CEO glanced down at the regional sales manager then back
up at Will, "Given your exemplary track record with this company up until
this point, and the fact that you set several sales records with the company
when you first started here, we have decided to move you to another branch
of the company. You will be joining our commercial sales and promotions team;
your pay scale will of course have to be changed, but I am sure with your
sales ability a commission salary structure will be satisfactory..."
Will looked down at the table as he contemplated the ramifications
of the transfer, "Forgive me if I am wrong, but isn't our corporate sales
division based out of London, England?"
The CEO nodded his head, "We will cover your relocation
expenses, Mister Carter, but I expect you to report to our London office tomorrow.
Now if you would please excuse us, it has been a very long morning..."
