Chapter 38

As soon I get to work, I call Adm Cub.

“Adm Cub’s office. MS Hobbs here. How can I help you.”

“Hi, Ed. It’s Trent. The Adm will want to talk to me again.”

“I hope it is nothing too serious.”

“No, I want to partner up with our navy this time.”

“Let me see if he is available. Just a sec.”

Ed puts me on hold. The line is picked up, and it is Cub saying, “Good afternoon Trent. I hear you come bearing gifts.”

“That I may. This one will solve a few of your problems and cause others.”

“What is it?”

“You know how Greenpeace started their save the whale crap?”

“They have started coming after us for using sonar.”

“It’s because the high frequency that you use is harmful. You know yourself what it is like below decks when the active sonar is on.”

The noise of the sonar is deafening, and most sailors either put on hearing protection or go to a deck that is above the waterline.

“What is your solution?”

“A lower frequency, greater range sonar. There are two problems with it. I have a solution for the one, but you will need to solve the other yourself.”

“What is the problem I have to solve?”

“Finding a new lie to tell everybody.”

“What does that mean?”

“A myth in the navy is that Canada bought its sonar from the US under an agreement that we inform them every time we turn one on. But as we improved our sonar, we stopped telling and started asking permission. The story goes that we improved the sonar twice and that with each upgrade, we sold it back to the US, and the restrictions increased.”

“So, and?”

“We never bought the sonar from the US. The SQS-504 (the original sonar on our destroyers) is a modification of the British Type 170, a WW2 sonar. This is where we were credited with the invention of the Variable Depth Sonar (VDS). The SQS-505 is a modified 504. Now we run an SQS-510, a hull-mounted modified 505. Nowhere in there did we buy American sonar. It is all Canadian developments. The reason given for asking permission to turn our sonar on is a lie.”

“Where did you hear that we have to ask permission. That is a relatively new development, and nobody that hasn’t sailed as a sonar op or secret squirrel should know that.”

A secret squirrel is slang for a person that works in the comms room on a Canadian warship. They do more than basic comms, including spying on other nations using various electronics and ship sensors. Most of what they do is highly secretive.

“It matters not. The point is, if you are going to keep asking the yanks for permission to turn your sonar on, you need to come up with a better lie. Heck, your current lie is full of holes.”

In my first life, it was always an issue. There were many times when we wanted to use our sonar, and the Americans would tell us no. It usually meant they had a submarine in the area, and often, it meant they had a sub invading our waters. I always laughed when I heard a yank claim how their military was protecting us. The only people we ever needed protecting from was them and the Danes, and we were quite capable of dealing with the Danes. Not to mention our war with the Danes was more comic relief than an actual war.

“What is the other problem?”

“I doubt you want to add new equipment to your ships, and you need to keep the SQS-510. We need to merge the 510 with my sonar, so it has the capabilities of both. That is where I want a joint venture. I will build the units for the Canadian military, and retain the rights to sell it to whomever I want. I almost forgot. We need to test it on whales. It’s nothing too invasive. We install my sonar on a civilian craft and wait until a pod visits the Strait of Georgia. Then we turn it on at the lowest frequency. We keep turning up the frequency until we notice the whales start to get agitated. That will tell us the safe range we can operate in.”

“I’m not sure Greenpeace will like our military testing sonar on whales.”

“Then don’t. I will do the testing independent of the navy. Just think of all the shit we take from protesters in Europe and the US about our conservation laws when theirs are far worse than ours. Being the first navy to use a whale friendly sonar could go a long way to shutting those know-nothing assholes up.”

“I see your point. Let me talk to Ottawa and see if I can get them onboard.”

“Let them know that I am going to build this thing. The only question is, do they want the superior sonar and the PR that goes with it or do they want the world to know that they were given the opportunity and refused. It seems to me that the PR will kill you. Sorry, I don’t intend to use a stick. You deserve the carrot, but it is a fact of life.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything else?”

“No, I don’t even have another carrot to offer this time. Hopefully, the advantages of having an ultra-short wave sonar are enough.”

“I’ll have my secretary write it up in a politically correct manner and have her send it to you. If we are going to partner on this, you will need to give me and a few of my people contractor ID to get on the base.”

“I’ll get Hobbs on it.”

When we are done our conversation, and I hang up, I page Karin, my secretary.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I need you to call the New York telephone exchange and connect with Y&R. They might be listed as Young and Rubicam. I need you to find the number for their PR department. Then I need you to connect me. And, stop calling me Sir.”

“I’ll get right on it, Mr. Brown.”

“I may have said that I will not hit a woman, but I never said I wouldn’t throw one. My name is Trent, and you know it.”

She says, “Yes, Sir,” just before she hangs up the phone.

Y&R is a less moral marketing and communications company that isn’t above breaking the law to help clients. They were charged with bribery-related issues. They also don’t care who they offend when they make an ad. In May of 2012, they released a commercial where an Argentinian Olympic athlete was training in the Falklands and ran over a British war memorial. Some say it was never intended to offend the British, but the commercial’s narration said, “To compete on British soil, we train on Argentinian soil.” In my books, that shows their intent to piss off the British. Y&R is the type of immoral, heartless bastards I want for my next PR task.

It only takes a few minutes, and Karin is paging me, “I have Heather from Y&R on line two for you.”

I pick up the phone, saying, “Hi Heather, I’m Trent.”

“Evening Trent, What can I do for you?”

“Did my secretary explain who I am?”

“Not really. She gave me your name and that you needed some PR help.”

I don’t mean to be rude, and if I am out of line, let me know, but I’m Trent Brown, child genius and billionaire. Your company is likely about to open your largest account, so you probably want to get your boss’ boss on the line.”

A minute later, another person comes on the line saying, “Evening, this is Felix Johnstone. Heather said this might be a little above her pay grade. I’m her boss. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Did she tell you who I am?”

“She said something about a child billionaire, but I find that difficult to believe.”

“I told her child genius and billionaire. My name is Trent Brown, and I live in Victoria, BC, Canada. I would suggest you do a little research to figure out who I am and then call me back tomorrow.”

“There is no need Mr. Brown. I know who you are. What can we do for you?”

“I will ask you one last time if you want to get your boss because I am about to put down a million-dollar retainer for your services, and it involves things that upper management will have to approve.”

“Give me a sec, and I will see if Mr. Sable is available.”

A few minutes later, Felix is back, saying, “He is just finishing up a meeting and will be with you shortly.”

“I’ll tell you what. My time is precious. My number is 250-###-####. Have him call me when he is ready.”

“Yes, Sir. Can you give me that number again?”