Threat harbors opportunity

The car tyres screeched to a controlled halt. It had taken over an hour and a half to get back, the rush-hour traffic building earlier than normal; although there was nothing ‘normal’ about this day. Douglas released his seat belt and exited the car, grasping his tablet computer. The wind whistled around the curved Bridgewater Place tower, knocking him backwards. That was the second time he’d been caught off-guard today, unprepared for what was about to hit him, and it would be the last.

Douglas strolled past the large ‘Hatch HQ’ sign and up the stairs to the tower entrance, where the door was opened as he approached by his PA, Cassidy. Douglas entered the building he’d bought out in its entirety and Cassidy walked alongside him as he passed by the reception desk. He was satisfied with the staff today, no one uttered a word to him. Arriving at the lift, Cassidy pressed the button on his behalf and the doors immediately opened. He stepped in, followed by Cassidy, and said, “Thirty.” Cassidy, whose hair was suitably up in a bun, made the selection and the doors closed. While the elevator smoothly ascended, Douglas glanced down at the mind map doodles on his tablet. Even for someone with his drawing ability the quality was atrocious and barely decipherable. He regularly visualised thoughts in abstract images, and the technique had led to more than one moment of inspiration, but stagnation would be a more appropriate term so far today.

At the thirtieth floor, Cassidy stood motionless and let Douglas exit first, after which she followed him down the corridor. He strode into the large meeting room and walked straight over to his black leather chair in the middle of the thirty foot shiny black oval committee table that followed the contours of the curved windows. “So, what do you have?” asked Douglas, sitting down and placing his tablet on the table. He stared forward at the panoramic view of the Leeds skyline, waiting for his two most trusted advisers sat at opposing ends of the table to begin the discussion. However, the only sound Douglas heard was Cassidy pouring him a drink from the bar in the corner of the room. It was unlike his strategy team to be quiet, normally they couldn’t wait for the opportunity to air their views when he gave them the floor. Cassidy handed him his whiskey and then took her seat away from the table, a few feet behind him. Douglas sipped his drink and then placed the crystal tumbler down.

“Clifford?” said Douglas, whose eyes remained fixated on the trains coming in and out of Leeds station.

“What have I told you? This country’s gone to the dogs.” That was exactly the sort of thing Douglas expected Clifford to say. He certainly didn’t keep the grouchy 88-year-old Yorkshire man around for his optimism. His brutal honesty and shrewd assessment of ideas against the background of a full life lived provided Douglas with an invaluable perspective. Douglas nodded in agreement at Clifford, who looked every inch his age, with so many wrinkles Douglas struggled to imagine what Clifford looked like before time caught up with him.

“Julieta?” said Douglas, his eyes returning to the view.

“Yes?” asked the Argentinian after a short delay.

“What do I want?”

“A chartered flight?”

“Why would I want that?”

“To escape this barbaric land.”

“I think you have both misinterpreted the situation. We are on the precipice of an historic shift in civilised society. We have the chance to be at the forefront of structuring the unfolding landscape. If we up and run, our rivals will seize control.”

“We will stand and fight!” Clifford said to Julieta. “This is our country. You have no allegiance, you’re from South America somewhere. That’s been the problem, a lack of patriotism.”

“The problems of the past are not problems of the future,” said Douglas. “Banish any picture of England you have in your mind. We need to predict what it will become now.”

“A land of savagery,” said Julieta.

“You do not support the decision?”

“I do not.”

“So you are leaving?”

“Possibly.”

Douglas finally turned to look at Julieta. She had a touch of the devil about her today, more so than normal; she wore a smart red suit and stylish red blouse, her plump lips shone red, her thick black hair was perfectly slicked back with gel, her face pouted and her dark brown eyes glared at him. “I want staff who are committed. Get up and leave, or invest for the long haul, if you have the stomach for it.”

A smile crept across her face as her lips parted to reveal perfect white teeth. “I like to live dangerously, perhaps I will stay.”

“List my five least profitable divisions.”

Julieta tapped away on the committee table and the table top in-front of Douglas lit up. “There,” she said. Douglas pushed aside his tablet, picked up his drink and had another swig while looking down at the interactive touch-screen. ‘Community Care, Recreational Services, Green Car Initiative, Food & Drink, Cyber Defence.’

“Food and drink?” asked Douglas, skeptically.

“Yes. I’ve told you, locally sourced produce doesn’t have the same margins. If we imported-”

“I’m not interested in competing with the supermarkets.”

“Scared?”

“I don’t follow sheep.”

“No, you’re Moses, leading everyone to salvation.”

“I’m leading myself to riches.”

“What are you planning?” asked Clifford.

“Diversification.”

“What?”

Clifford was a simple man and Douglas forgave him for that. “I need to close the under-performing areas of my business and reallocate resources.”

“To what?”

“That’s what I need to know.”

“Simple,” said Julieta. “Weapons.”

“That’s immoral,” said Clifford, scornfully.

“And predictable,” said Douglas. “Every arms dealer in the world will have a boat load of guns en-route to the UK as we speak. They have the stock, expertise and contacts. There is a bigger play here. I want to be first to market. What are people going to need now?”

“Anti-depressants,” said Clifford.

“Medication, definitely,” said Douglas. “But we’re already well positioned to provide that. What else?”

“Drugs,” said Julieta.

“Again, the established suppliers will flood the market.”

“Security systems,” said Julieta.

“It’s been done.”

“Private security. Panic rooms.”

“I need a mass market product, not something for the rich and famous.”

“Barbed wire,” said Clifford.

“I won’t be responsible for turning the UK into a prisoner of war camp,” said Douglas.

“Okay, skip prevention. Life insurance.”

“The insurance industry is finished,” said Julieta.

“Why?”

“No one will pay out.”

“They can’t not pay!”

“The regulators no longer have authority, so who will make them pay? No one. So, they wont.”

“Then what’s the point in having insurance?”

“Exactly.”

Douglas pointed at Julieta. “Close Hatch Insure with immediate effect. Refund everyone’s premiums.”

Juliet whistled. “That’s a lot of money. Are you sure you need to do that? It would no longer be a crime to keep it.”

“I must maintain my reputation. It would be short-sighted to grab the money. I can bleed them dry in the long-run.”

Julieta began tapping on the table top display again.

“Car repairs,” said Clifford.

“Do you envisage a lot of cars giving up hope when they hear the news and refusing to move?” asked Julieta jovially.

“I see people driving drunk and too fast. I see road rage. I see crashes.”

“That’s true, but again, an existing supplier is best placed to capitalise upon that,” said Douglas. “We need a completely fresh problem. Something that hasn’t been an issue, until now.” Douglas stood up and paced around the table. “The laws binding us to behave in a systematic way have been removed. What will people do?” Douglas stopped, placed his hands on the window and stared out into Leeds. What were people doing right now? What were they planning to do? He was isolated from the madness up here, but he imagined the hysteria people were experiencing. “If there are no laws, what do you do?”

“Find Traffic Warden 206…”

Douglas spun around. “Clifford, you are considering revenge?”

“Not really,” he chuckled.

“But the law has been dead for less than two hours and you implied, even in jest, that you would track down the traffic warden that gave you a ticket.”

“By deceitfully saying my car was ‘fine’ and then planting a ticket behind my back,” Clifford said with vitriol.

“Vengeance crossed your mind.” Douglas looked back outside. “How many others will be thinking about evening the score?”

“So, violence will be a problem,” agreed Julieta. “And unemployment.”

“Yes, jobs. People will need jobs,” said Douglas.

“You already have an employment agency,” said Clifford.

“What good is an agency if there are no employers? Millions of people were made redundant today.”

“Were they? I missed that,” said Clifford, scratching his head.

“The entire police force. Legal professionals, auditors, tax inspectors, driving instructors, traffic wardens.”

“No one will employ them scum,” said Clifford.

“Not only do we have the chance to launch something new, there is a whole workforce out there ready for the taking. We don’t need an agency anymore, close it, we need to set-up a new mass employer.”

“To do what?” asked Julieta.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps the army will be disbanded?” asked Clifford.

“Maybe. And convicts released,” said Julieta.

“Mother of Mary! You’re not saying they’re going to let them all out?” raged Clifford.

Douglas hadn’t considered that, but Julieta was right. All the prisoners would be released and reintegrated into a very different society than that they left; one that gave them carte blanche to unleash a reign of terror on an already shell-shocked population.

“Reconsidering that flight?” asked Julieta.

“I don’t care, let them out, let them do what they want. I just want to know what people will need!”

“Look, lad, is this the right time? I’m tired. We need to let the news sink in. Lets sleep on it.”

“I need to move swiftly. Our rivals will be having this exact same meeting right now!”

“Then guns,” said Julieta.

“But I would rather move late than make the wrong move.”

“I think you’re forcing the issue, lad. You won’t find a silver lining here, just a bag of s**t.”

Douglas smacked his fists on the table and shouted, “Every threat harbors opportunity!”

“Codswallop,” said Clifford, while Julieta shook her head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do not,” said Julieta.

“Do you know how many people Darius West has in his strategy team?”

“How could I possibly?” said Julieta.

“Twenty two.”

Clifford guffawed.

“Do you know why he has twenty two?”

“Tell me.”

“Because he doesn’t trust in them.”

Clifford guffawed again.

“Do you know why I have only two?”

“Because you trust in us?”

“Because I trust in me! I expect you to do the same.”

Julieta stood up. “Then you’ll do fine without me!”

“Follow me.” Douglas ambled to the far side of the room, the two doubters and Cassidy in tow. He slid open the door to the windy balcony. Once outside, he turned to face them. “In every threat lies opportunity.”

“I see no threat. I see no opportunity,” said Julieta.

Douglas edged back until he felt the railing. He grabbed hold of it and lifted himself up to sit on the narrow railing top.

“What are you doing, lad? Don’t be so daft,” said Clifford.

Cassidy’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

“You provide us the illusion of danger,” said Julieta. “Your hands hold on. Your legs dangle this side of the glass. There is no danger.”

Douglas hadn’t wanted to risk death to illustrate his point, but wouldn’t back down in the face of Julieta’s dissent. He lifted his right leg and swung it over. Julieta shook her head, prompting Douglas to carefully lift his left leg over too, while shuffling his bottom to remain fully balanced on the railing. As the wind blew against his face, his hands gripped the railing tighter than they had the rope that once hung around his neck.

“Come on, you still hold on!” Julieta gestured with her hands. “The wind is no threat.”

“Don’t listen to her, she’s egging you on, and barking mad. You’re going to die, lad, and for what?”

“Clifford’s right, get down. There is no shame in admitting defeat.”

Douglas released hold, pushed down with his right hand and lifted his right leg up onto the railing. He then carefully propelled himself up standing.

“In the name of the Lord, what are you doing?” asked Clifford.

“Okay, I see the threat, but where is the opportunity?” said Juliet.

“That’s what we must determine. But it is here, and it is out there. We must find it, before our competitors do.” A gust of wind hit Douglas’ body and took his breath away, but he fought to remain balanced and held out his arms to the side to steady himself.