First Novel

Scene 1

Heads were going to roll today.

Anton Van Bromen sat silently at the head of the oak veneer table with folded hands and lowered chin, as if deep in prayer. After a long moment, he muttered a few unintelligable words, and slowly lifted his head. His eyes remained closed.

The five seated around him exchanged nervous glances.

Thomas Bender, seated across from Van Bromen, snorted internally. He knew the words of prayer were purposely incoherent, and he didn’t understand the whole dramatic put-on. He wished they would get on with business.

As if in response to the unvoiced criticism, Van Bromen jerked his eyelids open, causing Thomas to flinch hard enough that his chair creaked loudly in protest beneath him. A lock of his puffy red hair fell from the poof it had been a part of and dangled across the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat and resituated himself, trying to recover gracefully as Van Bromen began to speak.

“As you know,” he looked at each man around the table, one at a time as he spoke, “we’ve been in a difficult position for the past several months.” Van Bromen was soft spoken. A study in outward serenity. “Now that the charges against us are officially under investigation, it’s imperative that we have a solid defensive strategy in place. With the help of Jonathan and Richard, I believe we’ve accomplished that much.”

Jonathan Rittleberry & Richard Vogus, the two lawyers retained to help the organization position itself, sat smugly behind closed notebooks. Their folded hands rested easily on the table, and they sat back in their chairs as if to punctuate a job well done.

Thomas maintained his own composure as best he could. It was a difficult task, given how uncomfortable Van Bromen’s opening words made him feel. He hadn’t known about these strategic preparations, and wondered why he hadn’t been included. Given his position within the company, defering only to Van Bromen himself, the fact that this news was just now being broken to him was a statement in itself.

“We’ve just got one rather large stumbling block to remove.” Van Bromen’s eyes came to rest on Thomas, and he shook his head. “I trusted you, Thomas. Like a brother.”

A thinly veiled reference to his fallen brother.

Thomas gulped involuntarily. To be likened to Van Bromen’s brother was tantamount to a death sentence.

The air became thick around him, and he felt as if he needed to swim to the surface to draw breath. As he looked around, no one would make eye contact with him.

“What’s this about?” He played dumb.

“It’s about you, Thomas.” Anton said. “It is unfortunate that it could not about someone else. I did not want it to be about you. I really didn’t,” he said.

Van Bromen gave Lewis Headboch a small nod. Lewis was Van Bromen’s administrative assistant. It was his turn to speak up. Lewis never spoke up without first being prompted. He sat immediately to Thomas’ left, and Thomas could feel the nervous heat radiating in waves from Lewis’ wire-thin, tightly strung body. With his jutting nose and his angular jaw that was perpetually dotted with whiskers, he had always reminded Thomas of a rat that had shed its pelt and dressed up as a man.

“The document, yes,” Lewis said shakingly. He did not like confrontation. Thomas often used that to his advantage. Instinctively, he knew better than to pounce on Lewis today.

Opening a manilla envelope and flipping through several pages, Lewis searched for something in particular. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and laid it on the table in front of Thomas.

“We’ve uh, got several copies of this,” he said to Thomas without looking at him.

Thomas stared at the paper in disbelief.

“Where did you get this?” Thomas asked. No. Forget it. Playing dumb was out of the question. They had him nailed. The document was sufficient proof to put him away for the embezzlement of millions.

Thomas leaned forward, his large frame straining threateningly toward Van Bromen. He could feel his entire face pulsating with the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Let me remind you that we’ve both got something to hide!”

Van Bromen smiled. “And just what is it you’re threatening to expose?”

He had a point. Little hope there. How would he prove it? Van Bromen’s pet project was well engineered and could become practically invisible at the drop of a hat. Any investigation of the operation, especially one initiated by the testimony of a man with such a transparent agenda, would not turn up much. Worst case, Van Bromen would be forced to dissolve the project and set up shop later somewhere else.

He decided on a different tactic.

“You can’t do this. Without me, what would you have?”

Van Bromen’s eyes narrowed. “One less charlatan aboard this ship.”

Thomas didn’t subscribe to this ship’s odd beliefs. The seas it sailed were poisonous. He was here to ride the money train.

To his detriment, people surrounding Thomas in the upper echelon of the organization naively followed Van Bromen’s lead. They were followers, plain and simple. Did they have any comprehension of what drove Van Bromen? He thought not. Van Bromen was one in a million. The twisted kind of faith he had was, as much as Thomas hated to admit, quite justified.

For Van Bromen, it was survival.

***This scene incomplete***