Chapter 25: Dealing With the Military

After lunch, I show Gran around my operations and explain what I need in a shop/office. Building it will take every penny I have, but I am not worried. I have money rolling in now, and with every patent I write, there is more on the way. I am also getting tired of always doing kid stuff like bikes and kayaks. It is time to break out into aerospace and space.

It is when I am showing Gran around that I remember about the F-18 wings. I haven’t had time to watch the news lately, or I would have remembered sooner. When we have finished the tour, we are supposed to be going to our meeting with the realtor. As we are coming down the hill, I tell Gran, “I just came up with an idea that can’t wait. I have to make a phone call.”

Gran follows me into my room, so she can listen in on the phone call. I don’t need to look up the number. The base operator numbers for Canadian bases are all easy to remember.

The operator answers, “Good Day, CFB Cold Lake, operator, how can I help direct your call.”

“Yes, I need the duty officer for 1 Air Maintenance Squadron, please.”

“That is 6483. Please hold.”

“1 Maintenance, Duty Office, Captain Wiggins here.”

“Good day, Captain. How are you this fine day?”

“I would be better if I could be at home watching the game. What can I do for you?”

“You will not believe some kid just phoning out of the blue. My name is Trent Brown. Do you remember watching the news a couple months back? There was a story about a 15-year-old boy who successfully challenged a thesis for three engineering degrees at the same time. That is me.”

“I seem to remember something of the sort. So why are you calling us?”

“I, too, watch the news. I know that all CF-18s were grounded after that last accident.”

“And.”

“I know why the wings fall off, and I have a solution.”

“I hope you are who you say you are, kid. It is a federal crime to prank a military phone. I’m about to call in a lot of senior people on a weekend, and you could end up in a lot of trouble.”

“Thank you for warning instead of assuming. You wouldn’t believe how much bullshit I have to put up with because I am a kid. You will want to call your boss.”

“I will have to call you back.”

“I have an important business meeting I am late for. I just thought up the solution and figured it important enough to phone right away. I will be out of the office for a couple hours, but my secretary will be here to answer your call. Just a word of warning, she is a kid too. It is hard to hire adult help when you are a kid. Please treat her like an adult unless she proves herself unworthy.”

“No problem. Nobody is going to believe this.”

“If that is all, I have to get going.”

“Is there any way you can tell me what the problem is? I need to be able to tell people something.”

“This isn’t a secure phone, and we are talking about matters of national security. I would rather not.”

“Good point. There will likely be somebody of importance waiting for you when you get back from your meeting.”

I give him my number. We say our goodbyes and hang up. I hand the phone to Gran, “You had better get our lawyers on the line. Let them know the military is about to come get me. They need to find people fluent in military law and contract law.”

“You are sure you know what you are doing?”

“If you mean, am I sure I can fix the plane, then yes. If you mean, am I sure I know what I am doing dealing with the military, then, NO.”

She makes a quick phone call. Then we head off to our appointment.

We get there, and the office is closed. That is to be expected. It isn’t exactly banker’s hours.

A cute little redhead opens the door for us. She is only about 5’4”, but she has the athletic build I love so much, and her waist is skinny, making her look even more shapely. She has the most beautiful green eyes and a pretty face. Her eyes and, to a lesser extent, her face is so beautiful, I hardly notice the rest of her.

The girl greets us, “Hi, I’m Sorrel. You must be Trent and Ellen. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

I try to act like a gentleman, but it likely comes off cheesy. I take her hand and kiss it, saying, “It is always a pleasure to meet a young woman as beautiful as yourself.”

After I make that comment is when I notice her dress. The neckline is plunging, and the hem is above her knees. Her body is just as gorgeous as her face.

Gran has a smirk on her face when she extends her hand and says, “Pleased to meet you. Excuse my grandson. I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

“No worries. I thought it was sweet.”

She shows us to seats in the lobby, then says, “Mr. Simmons ended up taking a call while waiting. He will just be a few minutes.”

Gran nods and I say, “No worries. We can’t expect people to sit around and do nothing when we are late.”

“You aren’t that late. What is it you are looking for? Maybe I can help out a bit while we wait.”

“I need to rent a shop while we build a new one with an office complex. I also want to purchase part of the old gravel pit for the new building. The oceanfront would be perfect for testing some of our new products, and it would be nice to build a park for my employees to enjoy their lunch and have company barbecues.”

“That sounds like fun.”

Gran interjects, “Don’t you think a park is a little much? The property and building should take up your existing capital. I don’t want you spending money that you haven’t earned yet.”

“The new thing we just started dealing with, the thing I just had you phone the lawyer for, will earn us a good seven-figures, so we are good. If it doesn’t work out, the park will wait for the next payday.”

Sorrel is impressed by the numbers I am throwing around, though, I was trying to be discreet with what I was talking about. She comments, “The part of the pit that is by the waterfront is the portion they want to keep. There is still more gravel they can mine. Would you be willing to look at other waterfront commercial properties and are there other things that attracted you to that particular property?”

“It is close to where we live. I want to cycle to work every day, but I don’t want it to take an hour. Other than that, it just has to be a large waterfront property. I would even be willing to look at lakefront. The 2 km straight stretch on the road is also nice. It would be perfect to trial road bikes. I also like the fact that the property is over a km long. It gives us room to build more and still have a testing ground.”

“I have a few places in mind that might be cheaper. They will not be as close to where you live. What do you need for a rental?”

“I need a place I can have a milling machine and lathe. It also has to have a good-sized work area for assembly. Something about the size of a 4-car bay plus room for the aforementioned machines: there also needs to be some office space. I could go much bigger to bring all my businesses under one roof, but that is the minimum.”

“How much are you willing to spend?”

“I have no clue what such things are worth. It is one of the reasons Gran is here. I’m just looking for you to show me the places and what they are asking then Gran and I will discuss it in private. If we find something we feel is right for us, we will give an offer.”

“Not giving a price guideline makes things more difficult for us, but we will manage.”

I like this girl’s work ethic and how she approaches a problem. She is looking for solutions to potential issues and not just trying to give me the one thing I stated I wanted. I could see working with her in the future.

Mr. Simmons comes out of his office to greet us. He offers Gran his hand, “Sorry about that, Ellen. I got caught up in a call while I was waiting.”

The jerk is ignoring me, as he speaks with my Gran. I can understand her being the primary focus, but ignoring me is pissing me off. Gran redirects him, “I’m just here to observe today, and I will need to sign for Trent because of his age, but we are here for him.”

“So you must be Trent. What can we do for you today?”

“It is nice of you to finally acknowledge my existence. Your assistant has all the information you need.”

Sorrel interrupts, “I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m not his assistant. I’m just the junior-most agent, so I got stuck manning the door and making the coffee.”

She has impressed me a lot more than the asshole I have to deal with, so I ask her, “You are a licensed realtor?”

Mr. Simmons doesn’t hide his contempt for Sorrel, even though she has only done things to help him.

“Oh, yes. I only just passed my exam and haven’t had a chance to make a sale on my own yet. So far, I have only aided the others in their sales.”

“If that is the case. Let Mr. Simmons deal with what I initially came here for. You start looking for another property. I need a good location for a restaurant. The CRD (Capital Region District) Doesn’t have a Mr. Mike’s, and the Colwood/Langford area doesn’t have a decent steakhouse. Mr. Mike’s is my favourite, and I am sick of going without.”

She nearly jumps with excitement. She runs over and gives me a big hug. She is about five years older than me, but as small as she is, her head is barely on my shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m so excited. You will not be disappointed.”

She runs off to her office while Gran and I head into Mr. Simmons’. I wasn’t impressed with him at all. He has the experience and likely knows the ins and outs better than Sorrel, but what he has in knowledge and experience he loses in arrogance and not understanding what it is I truly want. He doesn’t ask all the questions Sorrel did. It isn’t just a matter of Sorrel coming up with a backup plan. It is a matter of knowing what I am really looking for, in case there is something better. This guy only cares about the sale. It is why he offered the discount on his commission. Half commission on a seven-figure property can be six figures. You would be stupid to turn that down.

So far, both experienced realtors I dealt with do not impress. I already know that the portion of the pit I want isn’t for sale, but he doesn’t know that, and he neglects to inform.

The idiot is just finishing up with his few questions when we start hearing police sirens. Looking out the window, I see the Admiral’s car with police escorts, coming down the road. I stand up and shake Mr. Simmons’ hand, “I’m sorry, but we have to cut this short. You seem to have the information you think you need.” I look at Gran, “That is for us. Phone the lawyers and let them know that we are being taken to the base, and they should meet us there.”

Gran asks, “May I?” But she doesn’t wait for his answer. She just picks up his phone and starts dialling.

I go to the door to let them in. First steps in the Admiral followed by two Lieutenant lackeys, two military police and a cute little Leading Seaman (LS), I can only assume is his aid. Given her lack of regulation haircut and general look, I believe she is more than just an aid. She is a voluptuous brunette that most guys would find gorgeous, but she doesn’t do it for me. Facing me, the Admiral asks, “Trent Brown?”

I see Sorrel peeking out of her office, looking a little concerned. I smile and wink at her.

“That is correct, Admiral Cub. I assume you are here to take me to the base so you can question me and confirm what I say as true. Then we can begin negotiations.”

“That is correct. Come with me, please.”

“Since I am a minor, you will have to wait for Gran to finish her call. Just to be sure everything is on the up and up, our lawyers will be meeting us at the base. Once they arrive, we can begin.”

The LS volunteers, “I will wait at the gate, sir and escort them once they are signed in.”

Gran comes out of Simmons’ office looking a little perturbed, “I thought we were going to meet at the house and what in the world are the MPs doing here. My grandson has done nothing wrong.”

“Don’t worry, Gran. This is just a matter of national security. They are here to protect me. The military is just protecting their interests.”

Cub adds, “That is right, Ms. Brown. Trent isn’t in any danger.”

I correct him, “It is Ms. Butts, not Brown. She is my Gran, not the woman that gave birth to me.”

The limo would be overcrowded if we all piled in, so the lieutenants ride in the MP cars while the admiral, his aid, Gran and I get in the limo.

Nothing much is said on the ride. When we get out of the car, the admiral introduces the lieutenants to us. I ignore them. Lt(N)s (Naval Lieutenants) are a dime a dozen. In this case, their opinions and actions mean nothing. They are just there for show and to feel important.

The Admiral tries to ask me questions, but I refuse to answer anything until the lawyers arrive. I even stop him when he tries to start the briefing about how this is all a matter of national security. The only thing I allow is for Gran and me to fill out applications for security clearances. Before the forms are filled out, the lawyers have arrived. At first, the military personnel are ignored.

Gran’s lawyer introduces us to his two colleagues, “Ellen, this is Garry and Heather. He is an expert in military law, and she is our contract lawyer. Gary, Heather, this is Ellen and Trent.”

Gary says, “Let’s get down to business. Trent, in your words, why are we here.”

“The short of it is, I can solve the problem with the CF-18 and have them all flying within the week. The long, I phoned the Duty Officer for 1 Maintenance Squadron at CFB Cold Lake this afternoon, told him who I am and stated I have the solution for the CF-18 problem. The admiral and entourage disturbed the meeting with our realtor and brought us here for questioning to confirm I know what I am talking about.”

I hand the forms we just filled out to Gary, “I refused to let them say or ask anything until you arrived, but they did give us these to fill out.”

Gary looks them over and says, “They are just security applications. They don’t bind you to anything. It is so that CSIS has a starting point to vet you. Your only real obligation is to not talk about classified material to anybody that doesn’t have the appropriate security clearance. Then again, even if you didn’t sign talking about classified materials to people without clearance is against the law.”

I already knew that. The security forms are a joke. Have you ever wondered why the majority of the people working in an airport in North America are immigrants, especially in Canada? It is because people that were born here are fully vetted, and that often takes six months to a year. If you are an immigrant, they don’t even do the most basic of checks, other than to see if you are on a terrorist watch list or have a Canadian criminal record. Immigrants get their clearance in days. Those that are born here end up getting other jobs while they are waiting for their clearance. The entire system is a joke. It is one of the reasons, after 911, when airport security is improved, whenever their security is tested, 60% of American airports and 50% of Canadian airports fail. The numbers are rounded.

Gary says, “When they ask a question, give me a chance to tell you if it is OK to answer. Other than that, be honest. Lying here can get you in a lot of trouble.”

I nod in understanding, and he continues, “I think we are good to start. Anybody else have anything?”

When it looked like nobody was going to say anything, the Admiral cut in, “You know I am navy, but the Armed Forces have me here to ask preliminary questions to see if your claims are real or not. I will pass your answers on to the Air Force, and they will decide where to go from there.”

“Fair enough.”

“What is the solution?”

“I can’t tell you that without assurances.”

“Then how do we know you are telling the truth?

“By watching the footage of the last plane breaking apart. I can tell you that the wings break at the root because of the way the airflow changes when the plane reaches high speed at low altitudes. The forces on the wing focus and rip the wing apart. The Air Force already knows this, so I am not giving anything away. It should be enough for them to know I am serious.”

“So then what do you want?”

“First off, I want to give the Canadian Armed Forces the solution for free under certain circumstances.”

“And what are those circumstances?”

“You continue to act in good faith and facilitate the sale of the solution to Northrop and McDonnell Douglas.”

“That seems reasonable. Is there anything else, or is there anything more you think you should tell me before I take this to the Air Force?”

“That about covers it, except for a word of warning. If things go south, it could cost the military millions. I am trying to be reasonable. If this works out, you can have your planes fixed for a couple hundred dollars apiece. Please don’t make me be a dick.”

The Admiral gives a hearty laugh, “I sure hope you are on the up and up. You seem like a good kid. Hopefully, this works out for you.”

“That is it then. We are free to go?”

“I’ll send my report tonight. You will likely hear from them on Monday.”

“Just remember, I will be in school on Monday.”

I let him know what school I attended and my class schedule. Then we part ways. When we got home, the lawyers want another quick chat, but nothing significant is discussed.

I make sure Kim is in on the discussion. If she stays with me, these are things she will have to deal with in the future.

That night when we drop off Dahlia and Moira, the good night kiss is one of extreme passion instead of the quick peck I had hoped. I can see these girls quickly getting out of hand.

The following Monday is the first morning everybody meets at my place before school. Kim is the first to arrive, and she insisted I spend some time cuddling with her on the couch. We compromised, and she combed my hair as we sat on the couch. Next to arrive is Dahlia, and she is disappointed when she sees that Kim had beat her. To cut down on time needed for me to get ready, she makes my breakfast.

Dahlia says, “Now Trent, it wouldn’t be right if you were to eat at the dining table. We got here early just for you. You should eat on the couch so we can cuddle.”

Who am I to argue with a woman? I took my seat on the couch. They each grab one of my arms to wrap around themselves. I am about to complain about having no hands to eat with when Dahlia brings a strawberry up to my mouth. The girls take turns feeding me as they nuzzle into my sides.

I don’t hear a doorbell or anybody knocking at the door. About halfway through eating, I look up and see Carol standing there, hands on hips, complaining, “That’s not fair. How am I supposed to cuddle in there?”

“I guess you will just have to cuddle into Dahlia and hope my arm can reach around you both.”

Moira comes in just after Carol and cuddles up behind Kim. That is how I end up cuddling with all four girls.

Blair arrives next. She announces herself with a hearty laugh, “I bet that is how all boys wish they could get ready for school in the morning.”

“Kevin can’t be that far behind you. I better get my stuff together.”

Moira exclaims, “NO, I’m your secretary. It is my job to make sure you are prepared for any meeting. I’ll get your books.”

“If that is the case, don’t forget my gym gear and gi.”

This just makes Blair laugh harder, “I don’t know what you did to these girls. I’m just glad you don’t have that effect on me.”

“Speaking of girls, there was some dissension when everybody found out our new coach is a good looking woman.”

Blair continues laughing, “It wasn’t because she is attractive. It was because she was throwing herself at you.”

“Then nobody will argue if I hire a realtor as a property investor. She is almost as good looking as you girls, but she is also really good at her job.”

Dahlia asks, “Was she throwing herself at you?”

“She did hug me, but only after I did something that made her really excited and happy.”

Kim asks, “How old is she?”

“20, I think.”

Kim queries, “Why don’t you ever hire anybody with experience?”

“Two reasons: Older people aren’t as driven, and I like to be able to mould them how I want them.”

Carol jokes, “You mean like how we are moulded into you right now? I don’t think the couch can hold many more.”

Everybody has a chuckle at that, but Kevin arrives, and we all have to go, so the conversation ends.

On the way in, I am drafting as close to Dahlia as I can, so we can talk. I ask her, “Do you think your Mom would be any good at managing a restaurant and do you think she would want to?”

“She has worked in restaurants enough. I’m sure if the pay is enough, she would love to at least give it a try. Why? What are you doing now?”

“I am just disappointed that the nearest Mr. Mike’s is in Duncan, and there is no decent steakhouse in Colwood.”

“You are just doing that for me, aren’t you?”

“I’ll admit that is part of it. There are other reasons too. The economy in Victoria will take a hit in a couple years, and I am setting things up so none of our families will be affected. Yarrow will close down. That means Sam and Mr. Paquet will be out of work if I don’t do something. I am also testing Sorrel, the realtor. If she passes, I will have the perfect property for a restaurant. I want a Mr. Mike’s, so I don’t have to cook every time I want a steak.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you come up with one answer that solves multiple problems. It seems to me that you always do it, even though few people notice.”

“I think it has a lot to do with how my mind works. I’m not this smart because I am working on my second lifetime of experiences. My first life, I was a genius too. I was just never surrounded by the right people, so instead of being given opportunities, I got beat down. Notice, I have been in this life less than a year, and I have accomplished so much. It is because I made sure I was surrounded by people that were willing to help, instead of those that tear down.”

“What do you mean how your mind works?”

I tell her about some famous geniuses of the past and how some of them could simultaneously draw or paint with one hand and write with the other. I tell her all about how the two halves of my brain seem to be split, and I constantly have two thought patterns at a time.

“Doesn’t that get confusing? How do you decide which part of your brain gets to make decisions?”

“That’s usually easy. People that tend to think with their feelings recognize that there are times when they probably shouldn’t. People that are strictly analytical see how sometimes a little emotion is good. Since I see both sides, it is usually easy to see which side should make the decision. There are times when it is difficult. A good example is you girls. The artist/feeler side wants me to give in and love you all from now until the end of time. The analytical side says run; this will only end in disaster. Every time something happens with one of you, I silently fight with myself.”

“Which side will win.”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but usually the wolf that wins a fight is the one you feed.”

She looks back at me with a giant shit-eating grin.

“We are going to win by attrition. You just gave me the key to getting what we want.”

“You would have figured it out eventually anyway.”

“Wait until I tell the girls.”

I groan, “Dahlia, you have to be responsible with that. If you start using it against me, the logic side will start winning every battle you try to sway, and it will work against you.”