Prologue

“Good morning, Mr. Jindae.”

Panit Jindae glanced approvingly at his secretary. Always efficient, always cheerful, always well turned out, she was an asset to any company.

“And good morning to you, Mrs. Stendall! Any phone calls or faxes from our friend this morning?”

“He’s certainly no friend, Mr. Jindae! A right pain he is! I’ve tried to get rid of him, but he doesn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe he finally got the message, no faxes, no phone calls this morning. So far.” Mrs. Stendall was English, and from time to time her speech reflected her origin.

“We can hope, Mrs. Stendall. Did the division reports arrive yet?”

“No, sir. I’ll check with communications right after I get your coffee. If they’ve arrived, I’ll bring them in. The Jamaican this morning?”

“Why don’t we try the Kenya AA for a change?” Panit sounded hopeful; the Kenyan coffee was his favorite.

“I’m sorry sir, the shipment hasn’t arrived yet. We have the Kona and a new shipment from Costa Rica, if you’d prefer that to the Jamaican.”

“The Costa Rican, then. Newspapers?”

“On your desk, sir. I’ll have the coffee ready shortly.”

Panit nodded and pushed through the door. Hanging up his hat and coat, he sat down at his desk to begin his day.

He scanned through the headlines, then went to the business section. He read several of the articles, concentrating, occasionally making notes on a legal pad. The notes would be filed with others about recent developments in the transportation industry.

Not all had to do with auto manufacturing. Panit knew that occasionally things that appeared unrelated would impact the company’s divisions. Attention to such details had brought him from engineering to sales, and from there to his current job.

Half an hour later, savoring his coffee while reading through the newspaper’s financial section, he became aware of an annoying buzz. Ridiculous! Considering how much the company paid to lease his fourteenth-floor office, surely someone could keep the climate system functioning? Pressing the intercom, he asked Mrs. Stendall to notify maintenance, then tried to concentrate on the article. The comments regarding recent automotive design and its effect on marketing were unfortunate, but perhaps the upturn in the economy might revive sagging sales?

The buzzing was louder. Intolerable! “Mrs. Stendall, did maintenance ever respond?”

“Sir, they say it’s not the air conditioner. It’s coming from outside.”

“We’re fourteen floors above the street! We shouldn’t be hearing this! Are they using jackhammers down there?” Fuming, Panit walked to the window. The lake view always calmed him, allowed him to concentrate on managing the different manufacturing sections. But the view this morning was different.

A clumsy-looking thing floated outside his window. He looked at it wide-eyed, and the graybearded fellow sitting in the device’s middle actually waved at him! The nerve...

“Mrs. Stendall!”

Chapter 1 »