KERRI'S WAR (Volume 3 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 19

          New York. Monday, October 8.

Kerri awoke early. Her sagging spirits received a boost when she read the front page of The New York Times. The headline story described the launch of Operation Enduring Freedom, as a coalition of industrialized countries and Afghanistan's Northern Alliance, led by the United States, commenced a series of attacks with the goal of overthrowing the Taliban, dismantling the al-Oaeda terrorist organization, and ending its use of Afghanistan as a base. She was pleased to know that the action would provide a measure of retribution for the September eleventh attacks on America, but her heart told her that no matter how successful, the effort would never compensate for the loss of so many innocent people and the sadness and financial hardship imposed on their survivors. She told herself that the buildings could be replaced, but not the lives.

An hour later, she entered the building that was to become the new headquarters for Iacardi and Sons. She was accompanied by Mark Friesen, her new vice-president, human resources, and Louise Markel-Townes, her new administrative assistant. A gigantic step down, both in terms of prestige and altitude, from its previous lofty perch, the building was, at least, a place to work. A recently constructed six story silvered glass clad structure on Park Avenue, the building would provide a launching pad from which to rebuild the company. She chose it because it was new, convenient, and would provide the new employees the comfort of working closer to ground level.

She surveyed the building's stark, empty interior and tried to imagine it filled with furniture, computers, and people. The thought reminded her of the enormity of her undertaking, the cost and effort required to hire over three hundred people and to provide them with the training and infrastructure with which to compete in an increasingly cruel and competitive world. She turned to Friesen, a forty-two year old hardened corporate veteran who had risked it all by leaving the security of Fusion Financial, a large New York investment bank, to work for Iacardi and Sons, a seriously wounded company with a dubious future. A Special Forces operative in Desert Storm, he still looked like a soldier, lean, mean and ready to fight. His thinning blond hair was short cropped, his face scared, his eyes grey and piercing. He wore a well tailored dark blue suit, white shirt and yellow tie. "What do you think, Mark?" she asked.

Friesen smiled. "This works for me. Just give me three things and I'll fill this place with the best people money can buy."

"Only three? What are they?"

"A chair, a desk, and a telephone." He winked at Louise, his live in companion and the second half of Friesen's 'dynamic duo'. A twice divorced thirty-eight year old brunette, she was his first and only love and his condition of employment. He had insisted that the two come as a package or no deal. They had worked successfully with Fusion Financial for the past eight years and compiled enviable reputations, more than sufficient to make their selection a no brainer. "Grant my three wishes or leave me forever," he said.

Louise smiled and pointed to the elevator. The three rode the elevator to the second floor and emerged to find essentially the same concrete-floored emptiness. There was one difference, however. She pointed to the far left corner. Awaiting them were three offices, defined by crude plywood partitions and furnished, each with two folding metal chairs, a wooden desk, and a telephone.

"How did you do it?" Kerri asked, surprised and delighted.

Mark and I came in yesterday and were horrified to think we'd have to work on the floor. Mark did the carpentry and I sourced the furniture. We had to twist some serious arms for the phones."

Kerri shook hands with both. "I was pretty sure you two were right for Iacardi. Now I'm certain." She pointed to the offices. "Let's go to work."