Eyes shifted to Dar.
“Absolutely correct.”
“How could you justify that?” Evans stood and pointed.
“Simply.” Dar gave him a direct look. “She was the best choice.” She paused. “As her subsequent job performance proves.”
Evans pulled out a set of papers and read through them, with several people looking over his shoulder. He put them down and folded his arms, but didn’t make any further comment.
“Next?” Dar cocked her head.
“Do we have to go through with this?” Beresen threw up his hands.
“Frankly, I don’t want to spend an hour listening to this crap.” He stood up and pointed at Dar. “This is what you’re going to do. You’re going to resign and get your ass out of this building and go back to the banana farm.”
Heads nodded.
“You’re going to sign a paper admitting to all this, and we’re going to figure out just how much it’s cost us, and then you’re going to cut the company a check for that and hope we don’t file criminal charges.”
Dar turned her back and went to the window, peering out at the parched landscape and ignoring the rising speech between the men, letting the hateful comments bounce off her back and knowing not even Alastair’s face would be friendly if she turned around.
She caught her reflection in the glass and stared into her own eyes for a very long moment. It would be easy just to sign the paper and go home.
It really would be. Then she could take off with Kerry and they could go someplace nice and quiet and feed each other lobster in the sunset with nothing but surf and sun and sand to worry about.
Yeah.
She imagined calling the office and telling them.
Having María pack up her office.
Having Mark shut down her access and disable her passwords so no one got any bright ideas.
Telling Kerry.
Facing her father.
A quirk appeared at the corner of her mouth. So much for that.
She turned around. “Hey!” Her shout brought shocked silence. “Sit Eye of the Storm 299
your asses down.” Dar stalked back over and put her hands on the chair back. “Number one, I’m not resigning.”
“Bu—”
“Now, hold on—”
“Shut up!” Dar snarled. “If you want me out of here, you’re gonna have to fire me.”
“No problem,” Ankow yelled.
“And then it’s my turn for a lawsuit,” Dar barked back. “A nice, big fat one for wrongful dismissal.” She leaned forward. “And one for discrimination.”
There was a moment of silence. “Your perversion isn’t covered under the law,” Ankow finally spat. “Thank God we kept that out of the books.”
“No.” Dar smiled darkly. “My sexual orientation isn’t covered under the anti-discrimination laws, though it is covered by the corporate bylaws, but,” she started a circle around the table, “gentlemen,” she emphasized the word, “my sex is.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Evans blurted.
“Check your shorts.” Dar paced around the corner of the table.
“Largest public IS company in the world. With a ton of US government contracts—and I am the only, single, solitary minority representative in the entire board.”
“None of this has anything to do with the facts.” Ankow pointed at her.
“That lawsuit has nothing to do with the facts,” Dar shot back. She whirled and pointed to several members. “Since when does this slut festival care who the hell I’m sleeping with? Give me one example of one single time at any single moment that the fact that Kerry Stuart and I are lovers hurt the company.” She raised her voice. “Give me one!”
Total silence.
“You big bunch of sanctimonious, useless pig farts!” Dar roared.
“Between the two of us we run the fucking company. So drop the goddamn bullshit and put the cards on the table.” She slammed her hand on the surface and sounded like a shot. “Fire me, and so help me God, I will take this company down.” She glared at all of them “You want trouble?
You have no idea what kind of trouble I can make. I know skeletons in closets so deep even the fucking Anthropological Society couldn’t find them.” She paced around the chair. “I know all the hiring for tit size, the payoffs to the Feds, the deliberate exclusion of minorities—you name it, I know it, I’ve lived in it for fifteen years and there is no,” she pointed at Ankow, “no single goddamned corner of this company that I haven’t been in.”
“Dar,” Alastair stood and held a hand out, palm down, “let’s just back it down a little.”
Dar gave him a murderous glare.
“Please.” The CEO took a breath. “Bottom line, Dar is right.”
“Figures you support her. You’re probably screwing her,” Ankow muttered.
300 Melissa Good
“I should be so lucky,” Alastair responded shortly. “The facts of the matter are, gentlemen, that none of us are saints and, operationally speaking, we are in better shape with the present management than we have been in a number of years.”
“Bet the shareholders won’t think so when you announce the loss this quarter,” Evans snapped. “I hope they tar and feather your ass.” He stood. “When that lawsuit goes public with the quarter results we’ll lose the company.”
“Not this quarter,” Alastair replied quietly. “José just signed a four hundred million dollar contract to provide backbone services to a consor-tium of ISP’s.”
Absolute, dead shocked silence—even from Dar.
“Running, of course, on Dar’s new network, which is the only one in the country capable of it.” He paused. “Gentlemen, we are the Internet.”
He drew a breath. “Congratulations, Dar. That was the shortest cost of doing business assessment in the history if ILS.”
Son of a bitch. Dar was speechless, the anger in her guts still boiling, but having no where to go. “Thanks,” she finally muttered. She’d known she was making the right decision on the network, but being vindicated so quickly hadn’t been a thought of hers. She felt mostly disgusted, and tired, not even a little bit triumphant. “Can we dump the bullshit now?”
“Oh no.” Ankow met her gaze. “I’m not nearly through with you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care what they put on that network. I’m not going to back off exposing you for the poison you are.”
“Funny you should put it like that.” Dar dropped her amused attitude and went very serious. She started around the table towards him.
“Speaking of poison,” her eyes found his and held, for a very long moment, “makes me wonder what your game is here.” She circled him, like a shark would, lazily testing the waters. “Why would a jockstrap lawyer from Oregon latch onto an IS company and try to take control of it?”
“None of your fucking business,” he snarled back. “Maybe I just want to give the stockholders some value for their money.”
“Maybe you just remembered that old maxim. Knowledge is power.
Only,” Dar circled him again, “in the IS world we say, data is power.” She paused. “Now, why would a turnip like you be interested in us?”
Everyone was watching her now.
“Maybe it’s for your daddy, hmm?” Dar stopped in front of him, so they were nose to nose. “Daddy—the leader of the White Power Militia in Oregon?”
His expression changed, becoming dark and dangerous. “I have nothing to do with my father.”
“Don’t you?” Dar smiled, then walked around to her laptop and clicked on her mail, opening a file. She turned her laptop around to face them. “Funny. You sure look alike.”
The board members leaned over to peer at the shot, one of Ankow and an older man in fatigues, with racist banners wrapped around them.
Eye of the Storm 301
Both men had fists upraised in salute. “You should read some of his man-ifestos—interesting stuff.” She straightened. “Especially that plan of his to target specific companies and do industrial sabotage.”
Ankow gave her a deadly look.
“Wonder what the stockholders would think of that?” Now, finally, Dar’s smile returned. “What do you figure would piss them off more? A dyke or a Nazi?”
“You bitch.”
Dar keyed in another file. “Especially a Nazi who was being paid off on the side by Roger Stuart to get his daughter fired.” Now the murderous glare was hers, directed at him. “And who was stupid enough to put the details of it into a computer tied to my network.”
The looks of shock echoed across the huge table. Dar felt exhausted and she rubbed the back of her neck. “Tell you what. I’m going to get a glass of milk, and you think about it.” She turned and walked to the front door of the chamber, let herself out, and headed directly down the corridor towards the kitchen without a backwards glance.
Not hearing the door open and close softly behind her.
“MS. STUART, THIS hearing is intended to bring to light any and all information regarding the allegations against your father.” The prosecutor regarded her with neutral interest. “I’ll be asking you questions, but any of these gentlemen can do so as well. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Kerry folded her hands on the table and waited. The senate committee was to one side of her, making notes, and whispering amongst themselves. Then the prosecutor, or more properly the investigator, had his little table, then her father and his lawyers were seated at another little table at an angle to her.
“Fine. All right.” The man looked at his notes. “You are currently living in Miami, Florida, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How much support do you get from your father, in dollars, on a monthly basis?”
“None.”
The man looked up at her. “Are you sure, Ms. Stuart?”
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