Troubleshooter

Chapter 5 - The Big Man

Hi there,  it's Alex. Hope you enjoyed it so far. Like it, comment it, give me your feedback. Always glad to hear from you! On with the story:

MICHAEL NY had mentioned neither details nor lunch, so Paul compromised by having a pit stop at a Subway sandwich store after he stepped out of the Piccadilly tube station. He then approached the hotel reception, asked for Mr. Barney Smith and was given a folded sheet of paper with a room number. Top floor, suite level. Paul caught himself scanning the lobby for people not fitting in or trying too much to fit in. It was an automatic reflex to him but was a completely useless trait for a financial controller—and sometimes he felt ridiculous doing it. "Once a trained dog, always a trained dog," he muttered as rode the elevator up, checking his co-travelers for weapons or suspicious behavior.

Paul pressed the bell button of the suite twice. A man of about fifty years opened the door. He looked like a senior businessman high up in the food chain, wearing an expensive dark gray dress with an immaculately pressed shirt and tasteful tie, shoes and haircut. That was the civilian check. Paul gave a quick glance at the clothing for suspicious bulges of weapons or muscle groups that a civilian shouldn't possess and then a brief sweep of the room behind the stranger. Clear, his military self commented—a voice he hadn't heard in a while.

"Trouble?" the man said.

"I hope not. But my name is Paul Trouble and I am expected. Mr. Barney Smith?"

The businessman laughed and stretched out his right hand for greeting. "Forget about the Smith thing. A small practical joke. Come in. My name is Sam Lornsen. From Abel-Kleinman," he said. "Great that you could manage on short notice. Something to drink?"

"Coke Zero, lots of ice, if you have it." Paul looked up the hotel suite: large living room with a meeting/dining table, various chairs around it, comfortable sofa arrangement, big screen TV, two doors left and right went probably into one or two bedrooms, both doors closed.

"Abel-Kleinman," Paul repeated. "Then you are with our financial auditors?" Any company of the size of Strom Industries had to have independent auditors come in to testify the correctness of the financial transactions and the stability of business procedures. Paul had had many interactions in the past with auditors and consultants helping preparing merger deals or evaluating company parts that Strom Industries was about to sell off.

"I am the senior partner assigned to your company." Lornsen brought Paul a glass half filled with ice and a freshly opened small bottle of Coke. He motioned to the big table where a mug of coffee was still steaming and some small stacks of paper were arranged. "Been on it for some years now. We are now getting ready for year-end closing certification."

Paul nodded and sat down, pouring his drink and taking a sip. He looked around. "And...?"

"You would like to know why you are here of course."

"Did I screw up something in the Spain deal?" Paul asked.

"Spain? What Spain deal?" Lornsen laughed. "No, nothing of that sort. It is a ... a project. Hush-hush confidential, as you will see. Strictly need-to-know. But I think Henry should explain himself; he set everything up."

"Henry?"

"Henry Daven, of course. He will be here momentarily. He came in straight from New York, red-eying. His taxi from the airport is just a few minutes out."

Paul was dumbstruck. The CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world and ultimately his highest boss was going cloak and dagger for a project? And needed a controller? Paul had troubles connecting the dots.