THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS (Volume 1 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 27

"Tell me some good news," Fletcher said, scowling and sitting erect on the edge of a chair in front of Mike's desk.

"It's a nice day," Mike answered, attempting to inject levity into his partner's morose mood.

"Then give me some bad news. It shouldn't be hard."

"It's the dogs, Tom," Mike insisted, as he had so often. "We can't get them out of the system any faster than the leases will allow. They're dragging the whole damn company into the sewer. It doesn't matter what the margin is—they'll never pump enough."

"You have any bright ideas?"

Mike shook his head. "The only thing I can do is keep on closing outlets, the ones where the lease costs are less than what we lose by operating."

"Hell, that is good news," Fletcher said, his voice oozing sarcasm. "Why didn't you tell me in the first place?"

"It's shitty news and you know it!" Mike retorted, refusing to echo Fletcher's sarcasm. "You understand the arithmetic as well as I do. When we lose volume, we shrink the float, and it's the float that's financing our losses."

"How much time do you think we have left?"

Mike pressed his lips together and stared into Fletcher's eyes. "Maybe twelve months."

"Maybe!" Fletcher protested. "If it isn't twelve months, then what the hell is it?"

"No way you can calculate it accurately—there are too many variables. The only certainty is that, in the absence of a miracle, XG runs out of money sometime in the next twelve months."

"That's just beautiful!" Fletcher said, his face crimson, his eyes squinting, "You know what really pisses me off?"

"What?"

"It's my own damn fault. I let you con me into buying this black hole."

Fletcher was right. For some time Mike had agonized over that simple reality. He had not only conned Fletcher, he had conned himself. In his blind rush to escape the confinement of corporate bureaucracy, he had miscalculated. Never once had he considered the possibility that gasoline margins would stay depressed, or that they might actually run out of money. But Mike was not a quitter. Even though economic conditions had forced him to consider bankruptcy, he had no intention of renouncing his dream without a fight. The dream was all he had left.

He leaned back, resting his head against his hands and lifting his feet on top of his desk. "Answer one question, Tom. I want an honest answer."

"Shoot."

"Suppose things had turned out differently. Suppose after buying this financial black hole, margins got fat and XG had made millions. Would you still be talking about how I conned you?"

Fletcher had no defense. He had entered into the XG deal with the same selfish motive as Mike. "So what's your point?" he asked, scowling.

"I've already made it," Mike declared, continuing to stare into Fletcher's eyes. "You can't suck and blow."

Fletcher's pride took a firm hold on reason. "Then I'll just blow," he said. "I've worked far too hard to sit around for the next twelve months and watch XG suck my real estate into the tank."

"Are you saying you want out?" Mike asked.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. I'm in the real estate business, and I plan to stay in it. Gasoline was never meant to be anything more than a supplement. I certainly never intended it to be the tail that wagged the dog."

Mike now truly understood why Paul Conrad had asked him why he thought he needed a partner. He had intended to benefit from Fletcher's extensive real estate experience, but that had not happened. Throughout the entire eighteen months of the partnership, Fletcher had been about as useful as a security blanket. While Mike had been busy fighting and clawing to save XG, Fletcher had spent his time chasing his own interests. Now that it had started to rain, Fletcher was pressuring Mike to provide an umbrella.

Mike removed his feet from the desk and leaned forward. "How do you suggest we do it?" he asked.

"I'll make it easy for you. Give me a buck and the holding company's yours. We can do it today if you want. Just give me the word, and I'll call my lawyer."

Mike's options were extremely unpalatable. If he refused to accept Fletcher's offer, Fletcher would likely reverse the offer by formally inducing the buy-sell clause in the partnership agreement. If that happened, Mike would be out on the street with nothing but a dollar, an enormous disappointment, and a broken dream. If he accepted Fletcher's offer, he would be the sole owner of a doomed business. Until it did die, however, there was still the remote possibility of a miracle.

"Let's do it," he said.