t_co
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Sometime in 2001
"Three fingers and a jawbone. Guess what didn't burn down to ash dissolved in that puddle of... hy-dro-chloric acid and red phos-phate."
Gu Zhenlun, thirty-five, balding, lit a Hongtashan filter, then resumed reading from the thick manila folder spread on the table. Next to him, a twentysomething man sat, watching him quizzically. He spoke.
"It's not our apartment, Gu."
Gu fidgeted a moment, then put out the cigarette. "Poor girl. How much are we paying her?"
"A hundred and twenty five thousand."
"That's a lot of money. Maybe we could just scare the shit out of her. It'd be cheaper."
The younger man shot him a look.
Gu ignored it. "Back in the day..."
The young man spoke. "Back in the day, people who ----ed up knew enough to shut the ---- up."
"Aww, look at you. First field trip out of the office, and you're gettin' all uppity. Bet you're just sayin' that 'cause she looks so cute." Gu pointed at a photo of a smiling, twenty-something girl clipped to the bundle of files.
"Maybe I'm saying that because you look so ugly. And I just got engaged."
Gu stopped, a little surprised. Then he smiled. "Son, not everyone thinks I'm ugly. And not everyone cares that you're engaged."
Click-clack. From the door: a crack of light from edge, now opening. A stunning young woman walked in, bag of groceries suddenly clattering to the floor beside heels. One, sudden, gasp.
Quick--to his feet: Gu and the younger man, who extended his hand in a polite handshake, as if this were a corporate meeting, not a B & E.
A polite, if puzzled, handshake. One hand wide, confident, long-fingered--an air-element hand--the other a thin-fingered, delicate water hand. "Hi, this is Gu Zhenlun. I'm Zhang Shenghan. We're here from Jia Li Group." The woman's hand wrenched away, became a quick five fingers across Shenghan's face. Gu stood to one side and fought to control his laughter.
Shenghan rubbed his sore cheek and continued without missing a beat. "Anyhow, we believe in fulfilling our social responsibilities, and we are deeply sorry for the passing of your husband, Mr. Feng Yixian."
She spoke. "He wasn't my husband. We were... we were due to be married in..." She cut herself off mid-sentence, then ordered the two men to perform an anatomically impossible sex act with each other and leave her apartment.
Gu shrugged, starting for the door. Shenghan stood, unmoving. Gu--a look at his partner. Shenghan ignored it, instead keeping an intent stare on the gorgeous lady. "Miss, we really want to help you. We've prepared compensation for the loss of your husb--I mean, your fiance. We'd like you also to sign this document absolving--"
Her long hair shifted slightly under sagging shoulders.
"How much?"
Shenghan, quickly. "A hundred thousand." Gu, offscreen, raised his eyebrows.
"Was he really that cheap?"
Shenghan didn't know how to respond. She stared into the young man's eyes for a long minute. Then she signed the document.
Gu and his partner left the apartment in a hurry. Shenghan expected the door to slam shut behind him, but when he turned around, he found her standing, still looking at him. Shenghan looked away, eyes lowered.
[hr][/hr]
Daylight, fighting through blinds, spilling over a crowded desk onto a scuffed beige carpet.
Wang Baosen, forty-three, sat. Hanging limply off only one shoulder, an army greatcoat hid twenty years of fat and searched in vain for an arm left on the hills outside Lang Son.
In front of him, his CFO--Zhang Shenghan, county valedictorian, three years out of Harvard Business School, the only Harvard MBA in the entire province--stood, waiting to be judged.
"You gave out all the money?"
Shenghan glanced out the window, then to his boss. "Yes. Any reason we're paying more than the usual rate, sir?"
"Skipping right to the point, aren't you? Well, let me be frank. The team from American Bromide that's coming to visit next month--it's going to include their head of Asia ex-India."
Asia ex-India. A single, bitter, inward chuckle. Asia, minus the one time we killed ten thousand people.
"Is something about that funny, Xiao Zhang?"
Shenghan shook his head. "No, sir." His thoughts drifted to phrases with a corporate strategy associate in a dumpy Shanghai bar. We're looking for a way into the Chinese market, but the regulators keep giving us hell with a complete buyout. My boss is in Beijing right now trying to sort it all out. One year old and vodka-soaked, the words rang in Shenghan's ears, clear as day.
Baosen continued. "Anyhow, get this. Their Asia head just finished meeting with the Premier as part of a business delegation for the WTO negotiations. He changed his schedule and is flying straight back to New York, then flying straight here."
"Their headquarters are in Michigan."
"Yeah, but what was it you said about America? All their banks are in New York?"
"Of course." It was as good as done, Shenghan knew. They wanted in, they had a green light from Beijing, they had three months to get the deal done before the WTO train would choo-choo out of the station and leave them behind forever. There's blood in the water, let's go kill'em, his boss at DLJ used to say.
"Anyhow, I think this is a great opportunity. Not only for Jia Li Group, but hell, for the town, the entire province. I want you to make our company squeaky clean, ready for a close look by our American friends. Do whatever it takes--you have my blessing."
"Yes, sir."
"Three fingers and a jawbone. Guess what didn't burn down to ash dissolved in that puddle of... hy-dro-chloric acid and red phos-phate."
Gu Zhenlun, thirty-five, balding, lit a Hongtashan filter, then resumed reading from the thick manila folder spread on the table. Next to him, a twentysomething man sat, watching him quizzically. He spoke.
"It's not our apartment, Gu."
Gu fidgeted a moment, then put out the cigarette. "Poor girl. How much are we paying her?"
"A hundred and twenty five thousand."
"That's a lot of money. Maybe we could just scare the shit out of her. It'd be cheaper."
The younger man shot him a look.
Gu ignored it. "Back in the day..."
The young man spoke. "Back in the day, people who ----ed up knew enough to shut the ---- up."
"Aww, look at you. First field trip out of the office, and you're gettin' all uppity. Bet you're just sayin' that 'cause she looks so cute." Gu pointed at a photo of a smiling, twenty-something girl clipped to the bundle of files.
"Maybe I'm saying that because you look so ugly. And I just got engaged."
Gu stopped, a little surprised. Then he smiled. "Son, not everyone thinks I'm ugly. And not everyone cares that you're engaged."
Click-clack. From the door: a crack of light from edge, now opening. A stunning young woman walked in, bag of groceries suddenly clattering to the floor beside heels. One, sudden, gasp.
Quick--to his feet: Gu and the younger man, who extended his hand in a polite handshake, as if this were a corporate meeting, not a B & E.
A polite, if puzzled, handshake. One hand wide, confident, long-fingered--an air-element hand--the other a thin-fingered, delicate water hand. "Hi, this is Gu Zhenlun. I'm Zhang Shenghan. We're here from Jia Li Group." The woman's hand wrenched away, became a quick five fingers across Shenghan's face. Gu stood to one side and fought to control his laughter.
Shenghan rubbed his sore cheek and continued without missing a beat. "Anyhow, we believe in fulfilling our social responsibilities, and we are deeply sorry for the passing of your husband, Mr. Feng Yixian."
She spoke. "He wasn't my husband. We were... we were due to be married in..." She cut herself off mid-sentence, then ordered the two men to perform an anatomically impossible sex act with each other and leave her apartment.
Gu shrugged, starting for the door. Shenghan stood, unmoving. Gu--a look at his partner. Shenghan ignored it, instead keeping an intent stare on the gorgeous lady. "Miss, we really want to help you. We've prepared compensation for the loss of your husb--I mean, your fiance. We'd like you also to sign this document absolving--"
Her long hair shifted slightly under sagging shoulders.
"How much?"
Shenghan, quickly. "A hundred thousand." Gu, offscreen, raised his eyebrows.
"Was he really that cheap?"
Shenghan didn't know how to respond. She stared into the young man's eyes for a long minute. Then she signed the document.
Gu and his partner left the apartment in a hurry. Shenghan expected the door to slam shut behind him, but when he turned around, he found her standing, still looking at him. Shenghan looked away, eyes lowered.
[hr][/hr]
Daylight, fighting through blinds, spilling over a crowded desk onto a scuffed beige carpet.
Wang Baosen, forty-three, sat. Hanging limply off only one shoulder, an army greatcoat hid twenty years of fat and searched in vain for an arm left on the hills outside Lang Son.
In front of him, his CFO--Zhang Shenghan, county valedictorian, three years out of Harvard Business School, the only Harvard MBA in the entire province--stood, waiting to be judged.
"You gave out all the money?"
Shenghan glanced out the window, then to his boss. "Yes. Any reason we're paying more than the usual rate, sir?"
"Skipping right to the point, aren't you? Well, let me be frank. The team from American Bromide that's coming to visit next month--it's going to include their head of Asia ex-India."
Asia ex-India. A single, bitter, inward chuckle. Asia, minus the one time we killed ten thousand people.
"Is something about that funny, Xiao Zhang?"
Shenghan shook his head. "No, sir." His thoughts drifted to phrases with a corporate strategy associate in a dumpy Shanghai bar. We're looking for a way into the Chinese market, but the regulators keep giving us hell with a complete buyout. My boss is in Beijing right now trying to sort it all out. One year old and vodka-soaked, the words rang in Shenghan's ears, clear as day.
Baosen continued. "Anyhow, get this. Their Asia head just finished meeting with the Premier as part of a business delegation for the WTO negotiations. He changed his schedule and is flying straight back to New York, then flying straight here."
"Their headquarters are in Michigan."
"Yeah, but what was it you said about America? All their banks are in New York?"
"Of course." It was as good as done, Shenghan knew. They wanted in, they had a green light from Beijing, they had three months to get the deal done before the WTO train would choo-choo out of the station and leave them behind forever. There's blood in the water, let's go kill'em, his boss at DLJ used to say.
"Anyhow, I think this is a great opportunity. Not only for Jia Li Group, but hell, for the town, the entire province. I want you to make our company squeaky clean, ready for a close look by our American friends. Do whatever it takes--you have my blessing."
"Yes, sir."
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