Ryan sat at the head of the long, polished mahogany table, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the surface as he awaited the board members’ arrival. The expansive conference room, with its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of Singapore’s skyline, exuded an air of power and authority.
To Ryan, persuasion was an art form, a composition where timing, tone, and cadence mattered. Every meeting was like directing an opera where each board member was a performer, and he was the maestro orchestrating a flawless performance. He needed to ensure that every note hit perfectly, resonating with his audience and guiding them to the conclusion he desired.
As the board members trickled in, exchanging pleasantries and settling into their seats, Ryan adjusted his tie and prepared for the meeting that could determine the future of NAPPA Inc.
General Meyer was the last to enter, her military bearing evident in her precise movements. She gave Ryan a curt nod before taking her seat.
The room fell silent as Ryan cleared his throat. It was showtime.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me today. Let’s jump straight into it. As you know, NAPPA Inc. has achieved unprecedented growth in the past few months.”
The board members nodded, murmuring in agreement. The opening notes of his aria were well-received.
“However,” Ryan continued, “I firmly believe we can do even better. Today, I want to present the future of NAPPA. I’d like to introduce Dr. Amanda Zhang, our head of research, who has been leading a groundbreaking project.”
Dr. Zhang, a tall woman with sharp features and an air of authority, stepped forward. She nodded to Ryan then faced the board, her eyes bright with excitement.
Bring out the soprano.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Zhang began, ”we have been exploring new applications for our NanoChip technology, particularly in the field of military enhancements. The potential here is truly revolutionary.”
A hush fell over the room as Dr. Zhang activated a holographic display. The screen lit up with detailed diagrams of the NanoChip and its effects on the human body. The board members leaned forward, captivated by the presentation. The crescendo of Ryan’s opera was building.
“The NanoChip can significantly enhance soldier performance,” Dr. Zhang explained. “We have conducted extensive trials and found that it can reduce stress, increase confidence, and improve endurance. Soldiers equipped with the NanoChip can operate at peak performance for longer periods without fatigue.”
She paused to let the information sink in before continuing, “Additionally, the NanoChip could accelerate recovery from injuries, improve decision-making under pressure, and even enhance cognitive functions. In short, it creates a more resilient and effective soldier.”
Ryan took over, his voice steady and confident, like a tenor providing a perfectly rehearsed, powerful, yet soothing undertone. “Imagine soldiers who are always at their peak, who can operate efficiently in any environment, and who recover rapidly from injuries. This isn’t just an upgrade; it’s a transformation of military capability.”
Intermezzo.
A senior board member, Mr. Han, raised his hand. “What about the safety of this application? And how will this impact the reputation of NAPPA? We are a healthcare company, not a military contractor.”
Ryan nodded, ready for this discordant note. “I understand your worries, Ethan. Marsha, care to step in?”
“Our partnerships with the military are robust and built on mutual respect and trust,” General Meyer, the contralto, started authoritatively. “We are in a unique position to offer technology that can save lives. This isn’t just about profit; it’s about making a real difference. Moreover, this technology can be a significant deterrent to adversaries, contributing to global stability.”
The board members murmured among themselves. Ryan sensed their hesitation and decided to push further, carefully adjusting the tempo of his opera.
“Furthermore, we have established strict protocols to ensure that the NanoChip is used ethically and responsibly. The collaboration we’ve built ensures that we are not only enhancing our soldiers but also maintaining the integrity of our company’s mission.”
The board members seemed placated, but Ryan could see the lingering doubts in their eyes. He knew he needed to take more decisive action to secure their unwavering support.
“In light of our progress, we are expecting visits from high-ranking military officials from both the US and China in the coming weeks. They will review our production facilities to ensure everything is in place for a larger rollout. This is a crucial step in solidifying our partnerships and expanding our influence.”
The board murmured among themselves, the initial hesitation giving way to a mix of curiosity and approval. Ryan sensed the opera nearing a successful climax.
Mr. Thompson, another senior board member, added, “We need to ensure that this information doesn’t leak to the public. The backlash could be immense.”
Ryan nodded. “Absolutely, Jeffrey. This application will remain outside of the public eye. And I also wish to thank you and your team for your dedication in the last months on ensuring the deal with the US side.”
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Mr. Thompson looked proud.
Turning to the others, Ryan added, “The potential benefits for our company and the global impact are too significant to pass up. I am confident that once you see the results, you’ll understand why this is the right move.”
Slowly, the board members began to nod in agreement, their reservations melting away in the face of Ryan’s confident assurances.
“All right, Ryan,” Mr. Han finally said. “I’ll support the initiative. But we expect regular updates and complete transparency.”
Nods all around.
Applause, Ryan’s masterpiece was complete.
Ryan smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. “Of course. You have my word. That’s settled, then. Now, let’s move to the next topic on our agenda, a very pleasant one, indeed, namely the financial forecast for this year.”
Ryan started showing several slides on the big screen. “You all received the pre-read. I believe you will see that our financial performance is nothing short of spectacular. Our NanoChip technology has reached almost five hundred million users globally, and we expect it to triple over the course of next year. Any thoughts so far?”
“Ryan, while our financial success is undeniable, there have been increasing concerns about our commercial practices.” Mr. Han spoke up again, his tone cautious. “Reports are surfacing from several countries, questioning the aggressive marketing tactics and promises we’ve made. These could lead to significant problems with governments and health authorities.”
Ryan’s expression remained calm, but inside, he felt a surge of frustration. He had anticipated this line of questioning and was prepared.
He glanced at General Meyer, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
“Brian, I assure you that we have everything under control. We’ve established strong relationships with key government officials who support our mission and recognize the life-saving potential of the NanoChip. Our government contacts have assured us that as long as our results remain positive, there will be no interference. We have taken steps to ensure that any potential issues are swiftly addressed.”
Mr. Han fidgeted with his pen, his anxiety showing. “What about the reports of free NanoChip injections in certain regions? How is this sustainable, and what are the implications for our revenue?”
Ryan smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. “The free NanoChip injections are part of a strategic initiative to increase user numbers and market penetration. By offering the NanoChips at no cost initially, we create a dependency on our technology. Once integrated into their lives, users will be more likely to invest in our premium services and updates. This approach has already yielded significant growth, as evidenced by our current user base.”
Mr. Han had no retort.
As the board meeting concluded, the members began to file out, still discussing the implications of the presentation. Ryan and General Meyer exchanged satisfied glances, and then he pulled her aside.
“We need to ensure the board remains compliant,” Ryan said in a low voice. “Increase their NanoChip dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin levels to make them less critical. And keep an eye out on their cortisol. We can’t afford any dissent at this stage.”
General Meyer nodded. “I’ll make the necessary adjustments. But we also need to urgently address the situation with Priya Najjar. She’s been under intense questioning since yesterday, and the enforcers are getting impatient.”
Ryan hesitated, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “What about her phone? Anything on there?”
“No,” General Meyer replied, shaking her head. “The messages are encrypted and secured with multi-factor authentication. They also auto-delete, so there’s no conversation history. We assume this will be a dead end.”
“Hmm, okay. Intensify the questioning, whatever you have to do. But try to keep her alive. We may still need her.”
“You know, we have other solutions to make her talk. Gentler ways,” Meyer said.
“You mean the …?” He gave her a meaningful look.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“But Amanda told me that we still cannot control the memory function fully—it’s still highly experimental.”
“Yes, but maybe it will give us access to the necessary information. Better than hurting her, right?” Meyer asked, looking concerned.
Ryan was deep in thought. “Maybe you’re right. We have to take chances sometimes. Better start now. We will need some time to set this up. But I will go down there myself and tell them to change tactics.”
General Meyer raised an eyebrow but did not argue. “Understood.”
In a small, windowless room, deep within the NAPPA facility, Priya Najjar sat chained to a metal chair. Her wrists were bruised from the restraints, and her eyes were heavy with exhaustion. She had been questioned relentlessly, but she had refused to give any information about Niko or her actions within the company.
The door creaked open, and a man in a black suit entered, his face obscured by shadows. “Ms. Najjar,” he said, his voice cold and detached, “I will ask you again. We know you have been in contact with Nikola Tesic. Tell us where he is, and this will all be over.”
Priya lifted her head, meeting his gaze with defiance. “I don’t know where he is. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The man sighed, as if disappointed. “Very well.”
He motioned to the two enforcers standing by the door. “Find out everything she knows. But remember, Ryan wants her alive.”
The enforcers approached, their faces expressionless. The first one, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, spoke first.
“Ms. Najjar, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Where is he?”
Priya took a deep breath. She knew she had to stay strong, but the fatigue was starting to take its toll. “I told you, I don’t know.”
The scarred man leaned closer, his voice a menacing whisper. “You know, we have ways of making people talk. Painful ways.”
Priya’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do whatever you want. I’m not saying anything.”
The second enforcer, a stocky woman with a steely gaze, crossed her arms. “Suit yourself.” She nodded to his companion, who retrieved a small case from the corner of the room. She opened it, revealing an array of tools designed for inflicting pain.
Priya’s heart pounded, but she steeled herself. She couldn’t give in, not now.
As the enforcers prepared to begin, the door opened again, and Ryan stepped in, his face an unreadable mask.
“Enough,” Ryan said, his voice calm. “Leave us.”
The enforcers exchanged a glance but obeyed, leaving the room without a word.
Ryan approached Priya, his expression conflicted. “Priya,” he said softly, “you know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me where Niko is.”
Priya looked up at him, her eyes filled with defiance and disappointment. “I trusted you, Ryan. I thought you were different. I thought you were my friend …”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about trust. It’s about survival. Tell me where he is, and this can all end.”
Priya shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
Ryan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You leave me no choice. But know this, Priya: I never wanted it to come to this.”
He turned and left the room, leaving Priya alone in the dim light.
As the door closed behind him, she knew that her resolve would be tested to its limits, but she was determined to protect Niko, no matter the cost to her own life.
Back in the conference room, Ryan stared out the window, contemplating his next move. He had come too far to let anything derail his plans. The board, the government, the military—everyone was a pawn in his game. And he would ensure that NAPPA Inc. remained in the lead.