2010-04-26: With Discretion



Date: April 26, 2010


The head of Lane Industries gets a phone call about a job.

"With Discretion"

Office of Marcus Thomas Lane II

Silence filled the lavish and very large office of Lane Industries head and founder, Marcus Thomas Lane II. He'd never been big about having music playing softly to break up the monotony. He had always been able to think better in the silence, keeping his head clear and keeping the distractions away. The soft scratch of his pen on paper, the steady passing of air through his nose are the only real sounds. The computer on his desk is dark, the older Lane preferring to put things on paper.

Things lately have been tense, it has taken a lot of resources not to have the complete cluster, of what's been happening, land on Lane Industries front door. It was tempting to cut all ties to some of the more secretive programs, but there has been too much invested and the board would protest.

A soft knock interrupts the old man's thoughts, his head doesn't lift in the direction of the door, but his eyes do. “Yes?” The word clipped and harsh, as he didn't like being interrupted.

The door opened slowly, allowing his secretary's head to poke in, glancing at him from around the edge of the door. A small tight lipped smile is given to her employer. “Sorry to bother you Mr. Lane, but you have a call on line 5. He says you were expecting his call?”

“Thank you, Mary.” Marcus drops the pen on his desk and waves her off, without so much as a smile in return. If this was who he thought it was, it was serious business. “Oh… and Mary. Call my wife, tell her I'll be a little late for dinner.” The woman only nods and shuts the door again, leaving Mr. Lane on his own again.

A glance goes to the phone on the desk, the light for line 5 blinking steadily. Slowly, Marcus picks up the receiver and punches the button. “Hello?” Brows furrow as the person on the other end of the phone starts to speak.

“Depends on what job your talking about. I have many out there.” Comes to brisk reply to something said on the other end. Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Lane slowly turns it to face the huge wall of windows behind him, Washington D.C. spreading out before him.

Whatever the person on the other end of the phone says has the company founder nodding his head slowly and looking pleased. “Ah… yes… I was told you would be calling.” The chair is swung back around, so that the elder Lane can pull out a drawer and retrieve a thick Lane Industries folder, dropping it on the desk. An aging hand rests on the top of it, as he asks, “I'm sure you've been briefed on the situation?”

Eyes narrow, his head tilts to the side slightly. “Trust me, money is not a problem, but I want this done with complete discretion.” Fingers slide to the edge of the folder and the front of it flipped open to show an employee record file for the company. “It doesn't come back to the company, if at all possible. If you try to tie us to anything that happens, we will deny everything.”

A smug smile touches Marcus Lane's lips, his eyes drifting down to the file in front of him, a photo picked up. There is satisfaction as he holds up the photo, looking at the subject in it. “Good. I will be looking forward to hearing from you again, with the situation resolved I hope.” With that the phone is hung up and the photo dropped into the file again and the folder shut. He scoops it up and opens the desk drawer to drop the file in it.

“One problem down….”

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