5. The Meeting After the Meeting
1129 Words
The Meeting After the Meeting
Washington, D.C., January 2028
Barney hung around after the monthly board meeting, hoping to talk to Keith. When Susan, the vice president of marketing, left, Barney addressed Keith in a voice not much more than a whisper.
"Keith, you got a minute?"
Keith looked to the door, wondering what the secretive tone was about. "Sure, what do you need?"
"Trial results are not good. It's not over yet, but it's only a week and a half, and I doubt anything will change."
"Not good, how?"
"I mean not good, as in they are no better than the previous drug. In some respects, it's even worse."
Keith slapped the palm of his hand on the conference table. "s**t! I was hoping for more."
"We all were," Barney said. "Even a minor improvement…”
"We needed a hell of a lot more than a minor improvement. We needed a home run."
Keith glanced around again. "Who's running the trial?"
"Ginesh and Nancy," Barney said.
"Tell them we need to see results, and I mean good results."
"I already told them. I made it as clear as I could."
"Then make it clearer. Do whatever you have to, but get me results that I can take to the board meeting next month. If you don't, there will likely not be another board meeting."
"Yes, sir. You got it," Barney said, and he walked out of the conference room, closing the door behind him.
Keith sat in one of the chairs, wondering what to do. There was no way results would come in fast enough, even if Barney played with the numbers. And the company needed money badly.
Rich McCabe came to mind, bringing some of their earlier conversations to the forefront. McCabe always had interest in neurological research. Maybe he could provide some funding?
Keith pulled out his phone and looked up McCabe's number, then pushed the button to dial him. A few seconds later, McCabe answered.
"Keith? Is that you, you old fox?"
"Obviously you know. How are you?"
"I'm doing fine. The question is how are you, and what do you want?"
"Just called to say hi," Keith said.
"Bullshit. You've never called anyone just to say hi. You want something, and it must be important for you to call in the middle of the day."
Keith laughed. "Okay, you caught me. I called because I thought we could help each other."
"How so?"
"You've told me in the past that you had some interest in neurological research. We just might have common ground."
"In what way?"
Keith paused, took a sip of water from a half-full bottle left on the table by someone. "I need money. You need...something. Maybe I could provide what you need and you could provide what I need.”
"In other words, I give you money in exchange for you trying to solve my neurological problems?"
"In essence, yes."
There was a long silence while McCabe apparently thought. "How much?"
Keith got excited, but he knew he dared not show his emotions. "I don't know, maybe ten million."
"That's a lot of money, Ratcliff."
"That depends on how you look at it and who's looking."
McCabe laughed. "Let me think about it. I'll call you."
"Don't wait too long," Keith said. "There are other people with money."
McCabe laughed. "Don't try to mess with me, Ratcliff. If you could have gotten that money from someone else, you'd have already called them."
Keith laughed. "Okay, McCabe. How about we meet for coffee? You name the place."
"You know where the Starbucks is on Pennsylvania Avenue? I think it’s in the two hundred block.”
"Yeah, I know it. By the bank. How about seven-thirty tomorrow morning?"
"Make it eight. I like to sleep a little."
"Okay," Keith said. "See you tomorrow."
Keith sat at a table near the door. He had arrived ten minutes early and was already on his second cup of coffee when McCabe pulled up.
The senator parked about halfway down the block, then got out, wrapped a scarf around his neck and walked briskly to the coffee shop.
"About time," Keith said when McCabe walked in. Then he stood to shake hands. "Good to see you again, Rich. It's been too long."
"I'd imagine when you're looking for ten million dollars, an hour is too long."
Both of them laughed, then Keith asked, "What are you drinking? I'll get it."
"Tall latte, but with a double shot. I need the jolt today."
Keith returned a couple of minutes later with the drink for McCabe and another one for himself. He handed McCabe his drink then sat in the chair across from him. "Last time we met, you said you might need some things done. Things of a neurological nature."
"What did you have in mind?" McCabe asked.
"That's what I'm asking you. You know what we do—neurological research. If you've got an interest, I'm listening. Tell me what you want, and if it's something I think we can do, I'll tell you. If we can't, I'll tell you that, too."
McCabe nodded. "You know I'm the head of the committee that funds military research."
Keith nodded as he sipped his coffee, but he kept his eyes focused on McCabe. "I remember."
"We've been searching for a drug that would allow us to “persuade” or “suggest” things to people, like foreign diplomats. We need to be able to implant ideas in their heads, so to speak.”
“Pretty radical stuff,” Keith said.
McCabe nodded. “We have some pretty amazing nanotechnology that can do far-fetched things, but so far, we haven’t been able to crack this problem. I think we’re missing the chemical aspect. Ideally, it would be fast acting, something that would work within hours. We might be able to work with it took a little longer, but nothing major."
"What makes you think we could do that?" Keith asked.
"I'm not saying you can, but you could try. If successful, it will make you rich. Which I would hope means that it would make me rich as well."
Keith laughed as he took another sip of his coffee, then bit into his bagel. "Same old McCabe. I knew there had to be something in it for you."
"It wouldn't be fair if the split wasn't even."
"In addition to the funding, you'd have to cover the cost of the trial," Keith said. "I can't afford the upfront money."
"Don't worry about that," McCabe said. "That's what I'm here for. I'll send the forms over to your office. Once you get them, fill them out, wait a week or two and you'll have your money."
"What about the FDA?" Keith asked. "Are we going to have trouble there?"
McCabe shook his head. "You remember Porter Kelley?"
"From back in college? Yeah."
"His little brother is head of the FDA."
"No way! Little Teddy?"
"That's him," McCabe said. "But he goes by Theodore now. So if you meet him, make sure to address him properly."
"Sounds easy enough," Keith said.
"As easy as taking money from the government," McCabe said, and laughed.
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