Chapter 70: I Think He’s Trying to Buy

March 31, 1997, Chicago, Illinois

“You didn’t!” Kara protested.

“She sure did!” I chuckled. “I haven’t seen Penny THAT feisty since her fifteenth birthday!”

Kara, Jessica, Elyse, Maria Cristina, Deborah, and I were all in the sauna after dinner. Strangely, I ended up between Deborah and Elyse, with Maria Cristina between Kara and Jessica.

“Let me guess...” Deborah said, shaking her head.

“Right the first time,” I grinned. “About the first time.”

“Fifteen?” Maria Cristina asked.

“Yes, and I’m only revealing that because Penny considers it public knowledge.”

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“I suppose that’s not so bad.”

“You think I’m too old now?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

“You’re almost thirty-four.”

“Yes, and you’re nineteen.”

“I think that’s different. I’m not saying a girl shouldn’t make up her own mind, just that it would be a bit strange.”

“You aren’t the only one to think that,” Kara said. “There are plenty of teenage girls who think that’s gross or whatever. But not all of them.”

“I guess I see that things change when you turn eighteen,” Maria Cristina replied.

“And what would you tell Birgit?” I asked.

Maria Cristina smiled, “That she has to make her own decisions, but that she should probably find a guy closer to her age than to her dad’s age.”

“Slick burn!” Elyse teased.

“When you put it THAT way,” I replied, “it even sounds creepy or gross to ME!”

“The age of consent was seventeen back then,” Deborah said.

“Fuck the government,” I spat. “It’s not any of their business.”

“Think that defense will work in court?”

“It ought to,” I replied. “But I know it won’t. Permission to rant a bit?”

“Granted.”

“Treating teenagers like little kids is going to completely destroy the country. Where does it stop? Next, it’ll be college kids. Then older people. Until the government is making decisions for everyone about everything. And that stupidity will go hand in hand with an insane drive for ‘equality’ which will lead to a Harrison Bergeron scenario. Hell, Nineteen Eighty-four will describe a utopia compared to the hell we’re going to encounter!”

“Harrison Bergeron?” Maria Cristina asked.

“A short story by Kurt Vonnegut which presents a dystopian future where the Constitution requires everyone to literally be equal to make things ‘fair’. There’s an office of the Handicapper General, who ensures that everyone is perfectly equal by forcing everyone to wear a ‘handicap’ - a mask if you’re too good looking; a radio in the ears of smart people to disrupt their thoughts; heavy weights for anyone who is athletic.”

“Come on! That would never happen!”

“In a world that has produced Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, and various and sundry other complete assholes? I wouldn’t bet on that!”

“So what happens in the story?”

“Basically a teenager escapes from prison where he’s been sent for refusing to accept his handicap, and is executed on television, seen by his mom who is lightly mentally retarded, but she can’t communicate that to her husband who missed it, and even if she could, his handicap radio would probably have interfered. It’s a short story, and it’s absurd, but sadly, not as absurd as people might think. Animal Farm was absurd, but it is an excellent critique of how revolutionaries become elitist and no longer apply their revolutionary ideals to themselves. Think Stalin, Mao, and Pol Pot.”

“I guess I don’t know enough about them,” Maria Cristina said.

“Pol Pot killed off about two million people, about a quarter of his population, in a quest to eliminate evil Western influences, and to eliminate the urban middle class, with a goal of creating a utopian agrarian socialist nation. He’s got to be the all-time champ. Stalin and Mao killed more in raw numbers, but nothing like that percentage. The grand total killed by communism in one way or another is between one and two hundred million.

“Even if you assign every death in World War II to Hitler, he only comes up with 60 million, and that would make him responsible for all the deaths in the Japanese theater, which I don’t think would be right. Given that at least 20 million of those were Chinese, that takes Hitler down to closer to 40 million, and if you eliminate the Japanese citizens we killed, Indians, Indonesians, and people in French Indochina, I’d only ‘credit’ Hitler with maybe 30 million at best.

“The problem, though, is that the real enemy is totalitarianism in ANY form, and arguing right-wing or left-wing totalitarianism is like asking if you’d rather be beaten to death or stabbed to death. Either way, you’re dead. So consider that in the 20th century alone, and we still have almost four years to go, totalitarianism is probably responsible for 400,000,000 deaths. So the next time you hear someone complain about how evil the United States is for some action, remember that number.”

“Three years,” Deborah said.

“There was no year zero, Counselor! The year 2000 is the last year of the 20th century.”

“Is he ALWAYS this annoying?” Deborah asked.

“YES!” every other woman in the sauna declared.

“Anyway, that was a long way to go to say that when someone argues for more government control of your life, think about where it ends. There will always be ‘one more thing’ for the do-gooders to try to fix by controlling your life, and they’ll never be satisfied. At each step, you’ll be asked to give up some tiny bit of freedom to guarantee a good outcome for everyone. That’s a lie from the pit of hell and it will never come to fruition. It ends in totalitarian misery every single time.”

“How about a different topic of conversation?” Jessica asked.

“That one started with sex!” Elyse laughed.

“Doesn’t everything?” Jessica asked.

“Well, now that you mention it,” I chuckled.

“Feeling relaxed, Deborah?” Elyse asked.

“Very!”

“Steve, what do you think of the suicide cult in San Diego?”

“Heaven’s Gate? Just crazy.”

“Did you see who one of the cult members was who committed suicide?”

“Nichelle Nichols’ brother, Thomas,” I replied. “That is a pretty weird thing.”

“Who is that?” Maria Cristina asked.

“Nichelle Nichols is the actress who played Uhura on Star Trek,” I replied.

“And it was a UFO cult?”

“So they say,” I replied. “I don’t know much more than what I read in the papers. I haven’t seen the news reports beyond that, but supposedly they were going to be picked up by a space ship following behind the comet Hale-Bopp. And suicide was the way to board the ship.”

“And here I thought Steve was crazy!” Deborah teased.

“I AM crazy,” I replied. “Just not THAT crazy!”

“You haven’t said how things went today, Tiger.”

“Ask my mouthpiece,” I replied.

“I don’t think they gained any kind of advantage today. Steve and Cindi each did a good job. And Steve managed to get Dante riled up.”

“It’s like Jesse and Birgit,” Elyse laughed. “All Steve has to do is walk into the same room with Dante!”

“What happens next?” Jessica asked.

“Tomorrow they depose Julia, Tasha, Elyse, and Dave. After that, it’s our turn. Steve and I have to go to Atlanta and Dallas, where we have depositions on Thursday and Friday respectively.”

“I’ll be gone Wednesday and Thursday nights, as is on the calendar,” I added, “and be home sometime Friday night.”

“How come you can finish so quickly?”

“At Peach, we’re only deposing Dante,” Deborah said. “And in Dallas, we’re only deposing Nathan Edwards, and Dante’s team is only deposing Brad Giesma and Manny Nuñez.”

“Why only them?” Kara asked.

“Because we’re staying as far away from the tax scheme as possible. We want to know what happened with the failed merger, and of course, do our best to rattle Dante.”

“Interesting. Well, I think we need to get out,” Kara said. “It’s bedtime for the kids.”

“And I need to get home,” Deborah said.

We left the sauna, and everyone showered and dressed, then Deborah got into a cab for her ride home and my wives, Elyse, and I put the kids down to bed.

April 1, 1997, Atlanta, Georgia

“It’s a necessary fiction,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Nearly $200?” Deborah asked.

“Are you saying you’re not worth it?”

“Don’t be a jackass!”

“Why should I stop now?”

“A very good question!”

We left reception and went up to my suite, with Deborah not even bothering to go to her room. We quickly undressed and I ran water into the large soaker tub, with bubble bath, and we got in. Deborah snuggled back against me and I wrapped my arms around her.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“In a tub at the InterContinental Buckhead,” Deborah teased.

“I meant with the Dante situation!”

“Supple female flesh at your disposal, and you want to talk business?”

“For the moment, yes!”

“Typical Steve! Anyway, they really didn’t get anything new from any of the depositions. We know they’re going to try to tar you with all of your associations with the criminal element, but that’s not nearly enough. Lone Star, on the other hand, is in fairly deep trouble with the Federal government.”

“But in the suit?”

“No worse than we are, really. The concern, of course, is that they settle. What do you know about the new leadership?”

“Zero. But it’s Manny Nuñez who is going to call the shots. I think everything depends on whether or not Manny thinks he can throw the former CFO, the former VP of sales, and Brad under the bus and keep Lone Star and DCP clean. Handicap that for me, please.”

“I think a lot depends on whether Brad knew or not. If the CFO and VP of Sales conspired and hid it from Brad, it’s much easier for Manny Nuñez to say he didn’t know. If Brad did know, then it’s much more difficult because Brad was DCP’s guy. If I had to wager, I’d say Brad knew, and forgive me, but I think Manny knew as well. I just don’t see a CFO and VP pulling this off without Brad being aware, and if Brad was aware, then Manny and DCP are aware. So, four-to-one they settle.”

“OK,” I agreed. “So, how do we get out of this?”

“Fundamentally, the question is, what will Dante demand in the way of stipulations to accept a deal and how much money can he extract from them?”

“The stipulations are the problem. Money isn’t the issue. And honestly, as soon as the Feds indict Lone Star, DCP, and the individual perpetrators, Lone Star is dead. You told me that the Feds will lock everything up and DCP will have no way to recover their investment.”

“I did. But something is percolating in that mind of yours.”

“Yes, in order of importance, we need to keep DCP and Lone Star from making any stipulations in a settlement. Then, I want to keep Dante from owning the assets of Lone Star, or owning Lone Star outright. And finally, I want him out of my hair, once and for all.”

“That’s no longer your primary focus?”

“I don’t think it can be; do you? We have to prevent him from gaining any advantage in the suit, first and foremost.”

“True.”

“Some things are ruled out, such as canceling the licensing agreement. Unless we can be absolutely sure it would moot the suit against us, all that would do would be to ensure Lone Star cuts a deal that hurts us. Question - is there anything wrong with me offering to indemnify DCP’s settlement with Dante, in exchange for them making no stipulations?”

“I don’t believe that would be illegal,” Deborah replied. “It would be akin to DCP taking out an insurance policy. But if Manny was in on the scheme, will they even care?”

“I don’t know enough about the rest of DCP’s investments to answer that question. And if DCP is involved, doesn’t that suggest that some of their other investments might use the same tax scheme?”

“Which puts us in a very precarious position because DCP would have nothing at all to lose by settling with Dante and throwing us under the bus. And all they have to do is stipulate to the conspiracy or collusion, and we’re dead. Nothing we can say will undo that kind of testimony. In the end, we have to keep DCP ‘onside’. If they sell you out, Dante is going to get tremendous damages, and our reputation will be sunk.”

“I’m curious - what happens if they deny the conspiracy and collusion in their depositions but then turn around and make stipulations that they did do it?”

“Well, one or the other would be perjury, but I’m also sure there is some way around that - some language they can write in the settlement agreement that says it happened even though they denied it happened. Are you sure they’re defunct after indictment?”

“Given what you’ve said, I can’t imagine how they would survive. And I think they’ll have to realize that as well. Individually, I could solve both the lawsuit and the collapse of Lone Star. The problem is, I can’t think of a way to sever them. And the clock is ticking. One day, very soon, the Feds are going to raid them.”

“But why hasn’t that happened?” Deborah asked, turning so she could look at me. “We knew about it a few weeks ago. You have to figure Dante’s team found it about the same time. We know for sure they knew as of your deposition on Monday. There is no way I can imagine that with the kind of smoking gun we found that the Marshals and FBI wouldn’t have already raided the place.”

“Dante didn’t turn them in...”

“Why?” she prompted.

“Leverage!” I replied. “He’s using it as leverage. Once Dante has what he needs from the depositions, Lone Star and DCP settle and promise to implicate us.”

“Then on Friday,” Deborah said thoughtfully, “the moment we’re done talking to Nathan Edwards, you have to meet with the US Attorney in Dallas and give him that email. They’ll swoop in as soon as they can get a warrant from a Federal judge. The Magistrate will have to stay the civil proceedings, as the criminal charges and investigation have to take precedence.”

“Is there any way for Dante to proceed without Lone Star and DCP?” I asked.

“Only if he were to dismiss them from the lawsuit. If he did that, he could still call them as witnesses, but they wouldn’t otherwise be involved in the proceedings.”

“Do you think the Feds will seize all of Lone Star’s assets?”

“That’s a tricky question, despite my speculation earlier, and one I’m not really qualified to answer. I think, and this is just trying to remember my criminal procedures classes, the Feds would have to balance the harm to Lone Star’s customers with the government’s desire to collect taxes due, as well as any fines which would be assessed. And they’ll want to jail the guys if it turns out to actually be criminal activity. Remember, Lone Star said they wanted to evade taxes, but that doesn’t mean that what they did was necessarily ‘tax evasion’ from a legal perspective.”

“What kind of remedies could Dante seek if the case is put on hold?”

“His options really are limited.”

“I’d like you to talk with Jamie and decide how we go about reporting this on Friday, and as soon as the warrants are executed, cancelling our licensing agreement. I’ll talk to Cindi about an aggressive move to bring Lone Star clients to NIKA as soon as the government makes their move.”

“That would certainly limit any damages Dante might win to the three-month period when they were licensed, and might even moot his case entirely. But it kind of interferes with you putting Dante out of business.”

“That can’t be the point now. We walked into the briar patch with Lone Star, and I’d like to leave with no more than a few nicks and cuts. I just thought that given our due diligence with Lone Star that I fully understood what I was getting into; obviously I didn’t.”

“Well, right now, I’d like you to fully understand getting your tongue into me!”

“So long as I escape with no nicks and cuts!” I replied.

“You’ll just have to take your chances!”

April 2, 1997, Atlanta, Georgia

“I was instructed to ask if you were carrying a firearm, Mr. Adams,” a young woman asked when we entered the law offices of Lee Silverberg.

“No,” I replied. “The FAA frowns on carrying them onto flights.”

I could have checked the gun, but I didn’t think I was going to be at any risk in Atlanta or Dallas, and had decided to leave my gun at home.

“Then, please, come this way.”

She led us to a conference room where a court reporter was waiting, offered us something to drink, and then left. Mr. Silverberg came in a moment later.

“Good morning,” he said. “My client is running a few minutes late.”

“Thank you, Counselor,” Deborah said.

He left and she and I poured coffee and sat down.

“Ploy,” she said quietly.

“Of course it’s a ploy,” I agreed. “It’s Dante being his usual asshole self. But we’re only talking to him, and our flight isn’t until 4:00pm, so he can dick around for an hour or two without causing any trouble. Are we still having a late dinner with Krissy in Dallas?”

“Yes. I know how to reach her if the plans go awry because of a certain passive-aggressive jackass.”

“He is that,” I agreed.

“Remember what I said about questions. Write down anything important and I’ll discuss it with you at the breaks I’ll ask for every forty-five minutes or so. Don’t worry about the questioning being jumbled - we’re not in front of a jury.”

I nodded, “I remember what you told me, Counselor.”

“I had a professor who reminded us of the class rules at the beginning of each class. When someone finally asked why, he said that’s how you approach court, or anything like it, with your clients. You remind them what to do each and every time you walk into a courtroom or for a deposition or a negotiation.”

“Not a bad idea,” I replied.

“Most non-lawyers don’t have any idea how this works. You do, because of your obvious special circumstances, but the lawyer’s job is to make sure you follow the rules. The last thing you want is to have a judge or jury think you flout the rules. Or worse, blow your case because you did or said something foolish.”

“That does make sense,” I said with a smile. “And remember you’re focusing on his claims of financial harm.”

Deborah nodded, “Business plans and finances, and I’ll be like a dog with a bone!”

“You and your teeth,” I said, barely whispering in her ear.

Deborah just smiled. She hadn’t left any marks, but she was an expert at using her teeth just enough to give me some of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had from oral sex.

“What’s the over-under?” she asked.

“Fifteen minutes, I expect. Any longer and he risks us complaining to the Magistrate.”