Scott’s fake identification showed the name Lionel Cole. He still was having trouble remembering this when someone called out to him.
“Mr. Cole!” announced a middle-aged woman with dark straight hair wearing a tailored suit. He turned around.
“Ah yes. I was just picturing how the layout would work,” Scott held up his hands like a rectangular frame. Didn’t cheesy Hollywood people always do that? He thought the woman nearly rolled her eyes, but she caught herself and smiled.
“That’s great. Is this what you had in mind, or perhaps something a bit smaller?” the woman asked. Scott knew this was code for thinking he couldn’t afford the rent.
“Actually, I’m worried about whether there will be room for expansion. Also, don’t any of these buildings have a landing pad for a helicopter? Traffic is horrible here.” Scott smirked at her open-mouthed expression. Maybe he should have dressed nicer for this meeting. He had gone with jeans and a baggy sweatshirt in an attempt to hide his physique. Also, it was mid-winter and colder here than Scott was used to.
“Mr. Cole, where did you say you were from again?” The woman seemed interested now. He could picture the gears turning as she wondered if he was a scion of some rich family.
“Also, let me answer your questions,” the woman switched gears smoothly when he didn’t immediately answer. Maybe she had come to the conclusion that if he had wealth, it came from some criminal enterprise. It was not unusual for people to start businesses in this town to funnel dirty money through entertainment projects. “Yes, this building has helicopter access, but you’ll need permits, and it’s currently booked indefinitely by OnScreen who rent the top two floors of this building. As far as expansion, this space is 12,000 square feet, but there is often turnover in the offices. You might be surprised at how many people decide to start a television or film company around here and run out of money before they have a big hit.”
Scott smiled ruefully, “I imagine you aren’t impressed with me coming in here wanting to start a company.I haven’t even come up with a company name. I think you can take any word in the English language and add media, entertainment or studio to the end, and someone has already claimed it. I can believe it when you say a lot of people fail in this business, since there are thousands of companies registered who have never made anything.”
“You don’t even have a company started, and you are worried about running out of space?” The property manager was skeptical.
“I guess most of my companies have expanded quickly. Any advice on coming up with a name?” Scott asked.
“I’d go with names of stars. It fits the Hollywood theme, and they must have come up with thousands.” the manager suggested helpfully.
Scott paused for a minute, scanning through some web results and cross-checking with company registrations. It was nice having a heads-up web browser, so he could pretend to be examining the empty office space while he worked.
“OK, I guess my company is Arcalis Media. Named after a random star that hasn’t already been used. I just registered it.” Scott replied.
The woman stared at him for a second, wondering what kind of crazy he was. Scott realized doing things like that with his implants when talking to strangers might be perceived as odd behavior.
“Right, sorry. I was on my phone with my assistant. I apologize, and you have my full attention now.” Scott hoped that was believable, tapping a non-existent receiver in his ear. “Anyway, I guess I don’t really need the helicopter pad right now. I’ll just get a room in a hotel near here. Hopefully they have something nice I can reserve for a few months.”
“Great. Well, how much of the space did you want? We require you to reserve for a minimum of six months and pay half up front.”
Scott didn’t think that sounded like a standard deal. She was probably demanding this to scare him off. Maybe they had a lot of people around here walking around this town acting like big shots who couldn’t actually pay the bills?
Scott did a quick calculation. “You are $5 per square foot per month, right? I’ll just go get a cashier’s check for $180,000.” At this point, it wasn’t really that much money.
“Well, there are a few other fees, and we need to approve any renovations. The square footage I gave you isn’t exact.”
“I’m sure the price you quoted also isn’t fixed. I’m going to get the money, and after that we can handle additional expenses with normal monthly billing. I’ll hire a manager to deal with it in the next few days.” Scott was eager to wrap this up. Renting office space and filling out paperwork was not how he wanted to spend the whole day.
The manager at the bank met him personally. Scott supposed it wasn’t every day someone used a fake ID to open an account with $20 million dollars. The size of the transaction would put them on the government’s financial tracking and money laundering radar. The money was actually clean in Mexico, but they were breaking laws, putting it under a false name. An expert money launderer, borrowed from a Mexican cartel, had set it all up. Scott was sure that had been a fun recruiting conversation, but Melinda had handled it instead of sending him.
“Welcome to Los Angeles, Mr. Cole. I’m happy to get you the cashier check, but I must warn you that any transaction of this amount will be reported.”
“I’m a bit offended that you are implying I am using this money for criminal activity!” Scott was breaking plenty of laws using a false ID to open an account, but their money launderer had been dismissive of their chances of the government taking action. Every transaction basically added you to a watch list, but they only took action if they connected you to another crime. Through some questionable contacts in the Mexican government, the Lionel Cole identity was as official as any other Mexican citizen and not yet tied to anything interesting. His acting skills were likely not up to local standards, but he knew that rich people acting offended tended to get what they wanted.
The banker’s mouth hung open a bit, before he recovered. “No, of course not! I’m just required to tell you that. It’s bank policy. If there is anything else I can help with, please let me know.” The man was flustered, but he remembered his training, “Also you may be interested in moving some of that money to an investment account. We don’t usually see such a large amount in a business checking account.”
“No thanks!” Scott replied. “I need to set it up for payroll. I’ll be hiring people, buying furniture and equipment, so I need the funds available.”
Scott thought about his account in Mexico, where he had over $100 million dollars sitting around. Instead of letting a financial adviser manage his money, he was setting it aside to cover loan payments once he invested in Angela’s fund. A smart hedge fund could return 20% per year on a large sum like that, but Scott planned to reserve it for payments on a $2 billion loan he would use to buy equity in Angela’s fund. Using financial leverage to invest in a startup might seem crazy, but Scott was comfortable with the risk and was convinced it would be a huge benefit to the economy. He had a video call with the president of a large Mexican bank scheduled later that week to discuss the terms. Scott was relieved Angela had offered to be on the call because asking to borrow billions was not something he was comfortable about.
After his trip to the bank, Scott went on a hiring spree. He noticed many people in the area were chasing jobs that were perceived as high paying or prestigious, but it was harder to find people willing to do accounting, IT or other behind the scenes jobs. There were plenty of people in the area, but the more skilled in those fields tended to be employed. Scott could afford to pay signing bonuses, so he ended up offering a large premium to the typical salary and started poaching the highly rated people. Conversely, journalists with integrity were easy to find since most were currently unemployed. They fit in two groups, idealists with little work experience, and a group that were older than the average TV personalities. Most in this second group had been bumped out of jobs because they were considered unproductive - either spending too long checking facts, or wasting time researching stories that the management would just discard for political reasons. Often they had just been replaced by younger, cheaper alternatives.
Scott had wondered about the choice to come to LA to start this business, given that it was behind enemy lines. Still, the sheer quantity of people around with the right support skills was more than they could match almost anywhere else. Trying to start something like this near Proteus would have required a bunch of remote workers, and Melinda had mentioned that this would not be a good idea. Part of their grand strategy was to cut off a large chunk of the Western United States from the internet. They had attacked satellites, routing hubs, underwater fiber cables, and some key server farms. This was currently manifesting as serious lag and frequent dropped connections, but they were getting to the point where a few major lines through Mexico and Canada were the only access points to the broader internet. Scott wondered how SPAI would react to losing access to nearly a third of the United States.
Scott returned his focus to hiring. Finding a qualified business manager was easy, although his first-choice candidate almost walked when she saw his aging talent pool.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Mr. Cole. I’m not sure what you are planning here. Some of these names are recognizable, but I’m not sure how you expect to get ratings from another news network. Which angle are you targeting? There might be space for a far-right network, but these journalists aren’t going to buy into that! “Lena Patterson, an energetic woman in her early thirties, seemed to be looking for the exit.
“I’m not aiming for a far-right news network. We expect to make a name covering the current conflicts in a way the other networks are not able to. I also want to start producing television shows and movies. You probably think I’m making a mess of things but give me a few minutes to explain myself.” Scott hurried to defend what must look like insanity.
“First, I wanted people who have a reputation for integrity, who were willing to spend the time on stories that other networks aren’t covering,“ he paused, pulling up a website on a laptop he had brought to the meeting. “The coverage of the conflicts with Texas and Mexico are getting wildly incomplete coverage, and I think people want to know more about what is really going on. I have contacts with the other side of the conflict. Almost everyone can tell the official story is inconsistent and incomplete. They are afraid, and I think they will tune in when we give them embedded video from the actual conflict, plus interviews with key people that our press won’t talk to.”
“OK, I can believe some of that. But these journalists are a bit past their prime. Sadly, most people will tune out if the TV personality doesn’t look young and energetic. Also, hardly anyone watches network channels anymore, so I’m wondering how you plan to deliver news on an unknown channel.” Ms. Patterson counted off objections. Before she got to three, Scott interrupted her.
“First, I’m going to start with the younger reporters while we send the more experienced crew to the Proteus Spa in Mexico. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but it’s real, and I can get us a large discount. Our over the hill talent can get a fresh new look.” He flipped through some before and after pictures.
“This seems like a hoax.” Ms. Patterson frowned.
“No, I assure you it is real. The treatments are illegal in most countries, probably even Mexico, but they work! Here is a picture of my mother before and after three rounds of skin treatment and the metabolic adjustment. Also, they did her hair and fixed a few teeth.” Scott continued before she could interrupt. “They also have a metabolic adjustment, which does something with the chemical signals in your brain related to appetite. It’s pretty amazing! The lead scientist explained to me that the human body evolved over thousands of years while struggling for food, so it places too much emphasis on fat and sugars. They can make a few minor tweaks which I don’t really understand, but then your body craves more fiber, protein and nutrient rich foods. Sweets, carbs and fats still taste good, but you feel full really quickly when eating too much. Patients usually lose and maintain a healthy weight within months. They can even tweak it for slimmer or more muscular builds as desired.” Scott realized he was sounding like a Spa brochure. This wasn’t a coincidence because he had pulled it up in his heads-up browser display and was reading it while they talked.
“You’re not lying? This is really your mother? It barely looks like the same person. She looks great. Also, where did she get that dress?” Ms. Patterson talked quickly while she tried to process all this.
“Yes, mom looks good now. I’ve almost needed to punch a few people drooling over her when dad is out on his ship,“ Scott almost growled, but regained his composure quickly. “The dress is from a designer who moved to Proteus. Sorry, I don’t recall her name, but I think she makes everything from seaweed fiber.”
Lena laughed, “Curious, how much does that hair procedure cost?”
“It’s not cheap. I think it was close to 100k for the hair. We spent over 600 thousand on all of mom’s procedures.“
“Your parents must do pretty well to afford that. What line of work are they in?” Lena couldn’t resist fishing for information. She didn’t want to work for someone who made their money in a drug cartel.
“Imports and Exports,” Scott said, then laughed, knowing this was code for drug smuggling. “Dad is a captain on a ship. He gets a percent commission on the cargo, and does high value runs around the Gulf. And once again, that makes it sound like drug running. Seriously, it’s mostly boring stuff like metals, flooring and dishwashers.” Scott neglected to mention the gun running and tussles with the US Navy. If he was being honest, his dad was actually more dangerous than the average cartel.
Scott also decided not to explain that his cheapskate dad had made him pay for the procedures for Scott’s mother. His dad claimed his mother was already beautiful and didn’t need anything. Whether his dad actually believed this, it was a brilliant move to charm his wife and save himself a huge amount.
“I’m still not convinced, but are you just going to hire people and send them away for a few months to get millions of dollars of sketchy medical procedures? I don’t understand this business plan.” Ms. Patterson was curious now, but still skeptical.
“I thought we’d pick a few reporters willing to go investigate the mysterious Proteus base and check out the Spa. They will get treatments while reporting on what is going on there. I have permission to send journalists there from Melinda White, the CEO. They can alternate between investigating and getting procedures. I can probably arrange interviews with a number of members of the Mexican government and military while they are there. It used to be easy to get them to visit until the beach house was blown up again. They should have it up and running in a few more months, at least enough to have visitors again.” Scott explained, staring off into space a bit as he reviewed some of their building plans. He continued, “I can also get reporters embedded with the Texas rebellion if anyone is brave enough to take that assignment. We get the official US story about the war on the other channels, but this is a unique opportunity to learn the other side that is not getting reported. Also, we will have better videos of the actual conflicts.”
“I’m interested, but I have to say I’m suspicious about who you really are. You seem to have very close ties with people at war with my country. I’m not going to put out propaganda against the US. The journalists you hired will report the facts or else I don’t want anything to do with this job.” Ms. Patterson glared at Scott as if daring him to challenge this.
“Great! Please tell me if anyone is putting pressure on the journalists. It won’t be me. I’m going to be working on the entertainment side of the business.” Scott explained, looking towards the exit.
“How will you make money reporting the news? Especially if you don’t want to let sponsors influence your content.” the new business manager asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t really cover that. I want to have a free streaming service with advertisements or a premium option with no ads. Naturally, you can also get it on a website or phone app. I have some pretty good programmers getting it set up. Our lawyers will make it easy to re-broadcast our news clips if people leave the segments unedited, and it will keep our name and logo on screen. We already have great video footage of various battles and celebrities at Proteus, which should get some publicity once we release it. I already have companies lined up who want to buy ads.” Scott was confident between the guest list from his Christmas party, former Spa customers and Angela’s contacts that they could drum up advertising for at least six months. Even without all that, the Genysis companies and their billionaire owners could buy up ad space to fund a news network almost indefinitely.
Lena had many doubts, but with the signing bonus and salary she was offered, she decided to give this job a try.
—--------------------------
Carl brushed off dirt and broken rocks after the explosion flung him into a cliff face twenty feet to the side of where he had been running. His suit managed to keep him upright despite the blast. There was a burning pain across the left side of his chest, and damage warnings showed on his internal display.
Overhead, a jet flew past him, and Carl saw another strafing his location with gunfire. Carl pushed off the rock face and moved quickly, making leaps from side to side as he zigzagged deeper into the mountains. His targeting system helped take shots at one of the retreating jets, but there was no indication he hit his target. As he moved, the rough terrain worked to his advantage, limiting the angles the planes could attack. Carl took some hits from the 25 mm cannons, but mostly avoided the slower moving missiles. He finally managed to hit a plane, which left the area trailing smoke. This left one plane, that had run out of missiles and probably ammunition, circling around and shadowing his position. Likely it was keeping watch until other forces arrived.
Carl made a call to his squire Gary.
“Hey Carl! Are you ready for pickup?” Gary asked.
“No, they are still following me. Can you open up the truck and pull out the unopened crate?” Carl instructed.
“Sure, am I going to get my own suit?” Gary asked hopefully.
“Not this mission Gary. Only a cyborg can handle this thing.” Carl waited while Gary grunted and heaved.
“Sorry, I’m not strong enough to move it,” Garry apologized breathlessly.
“Oh, I forgot. We’ll have to fix that when we get to Mexico. Just stand back, I guess.” Carl said.
Carl activated the aerial drone, instructing it to briefly fire the point defense lasers.
“Holy crap!” Gary shrieked over the phone. “The crate exploded, and this robot thing flew out. I have a burning piece of wood stuck in my leg. It’s awesome!”
Carl was busy giving the drone instructions, but he chuckled at his squire’s antics. “Take a picture before you pull it out.”
“Yeah, that’s going to leave a mark! Do you have a med kit somewhere here?” Gary’s voice now sounded more concerned than excited.
“Just make a tourniquet out of your belt or something. I have med supplies, but I’m busy fighting the Air Force right now.”
Within ten minutes, the drone arrived and targeted the plane with several invisible laser blasts. The plane started smoking before crashing into a nearby mountain. Carl saw the pilot eject, so he waved to him before running back towards his truck. He kept the drone patrolling. It gave away his general position, but he wasn’t sure where the next attack might come from. Sergio had explained all the nearby air bases and likely response vectors, but Carl had found the mission briefing boring, and he had kind of tuned out after the first thirty minutes. Shouldn’t his brain computer process all the boring stuff so he didn’t have to? Carl wanted to ask Scott about that, but remembered he now had Theofanis to work on upgrades. He sent a quick text explaining his latest brilliant feature request. Theo: I need the computer to listen to boring lectures and tell me when I need to know something. That should be easy enough for the egghead to understand.
Carl returned focus to what he was doing, leaping across a large gorge and jumping up a ridge in a few hops. He could see the road and sent Gary directions about where to pick him up. Finally, he was getting out of here.