And in Tokyo, the top officers of Entronics were beyond embarrassed. They were livid. They’d been willing to accept Gordy’s private bigotry, but the moment he began spouting publicly, he had to be shot.
The Entronics Public Relations Manager in Santa Clara put out a press release saying that “Kent Gordon has left Entronics for personal and family reasons.”
I got a slew of congratulatory phone calls and e-mails-from friends I hadn’t heard from in years, from people who were probably positioning themselves for a job with Entronics, not knowing there might not be any jobs at all soon. Joan Tureck sent me a very nice e-mail congratulating me and adding, ominously, “Good luck. That most of all. You’ll need it.”
The second thing I did was to call in Yoshi Tanaka and let him know that things were going to be different from now on. Unlike my predecessor, I wanted to work with him. I wanted his input. I wanted to know what he thought. I wanted to know what he thought the guys in Tokyo thought. I spoke slowly, used simple words.
I won’t say Yoshi smiled at me-his facial muscles apparently didn’t have that ability-but he nodded solemnly and thanked me. I think he understood what I was saying, though I couldn’t be sure.
The third thing I did was ask Dick Hardy to make a stopover in Boston on his way from New York to Santa Clara. I called all my troops together in our biggest conference room to meet Mister Big and give them a rousing, inspirational speech. I told them my door was always open. I told them they should feel free to come to me with any complaints, that although I expected nothing but the best efforts from them, I wasn’t going to ream them out for telling me when something wasn’t going right, that I was here to help. I announced a small increase in incentive pay and bonuses. This turned out to be a bit more popular with the Band of Brothers than the Queeg Memo.
Dick Hardy stood next to me in the front of the room, wearing a navy blue suit and crisp white shirt and blue-and-silver-striped rep tie and looking very much the CEO, with his big square jaw and his silver hair combed straight back and the heavy dark pouches under his intense, icy blue eyes. He shook everyone’s hands as they filed in, and said, “Good to know you” to each one as if he really meant it. He told them they were the “lifeblood” of Entronics Visual Systems and that he had “complete confidence” in me.
Hardy clapped me on both shoulders when we had a few private moments after the staff rally. “It’s been a rough ride,” he said soulfully. “But if anyone can steady the keel, it’s you.” He loved sailing metaphors. He looked directly into my eyes, and said, “Remember: You can’t control the wind. You can only control the sail.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I take heart in your string of successes, though.”
“I’ve had a nice run of luck,” I said.
He shook his head solemnly. “As one of my vice presidents, you’re going to get sick of hearing me say it, but I firmly believe you create your own luck.”
And the fourth thing I did was to promote Trevor Allard to my old job. Why? It’s complicated. I think partly it was to make amends to him. I didn’t like the guy, but if it hadn’t been for Kurt, Trevor would probably have been in Gordy’s office, not me.
Partly it was because I knew he’d be good at the job, like it or not. And partly, I admit, it was that old saying, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
So now I had to work with him. I don’t know who it was most uncomfortable for, him or me. I assigned Gordy’s old assistant, Melanie, to Trevor, which might not have been considerate to her-it was a big step down in prestige-but I knew I could trust her to keep her eyes on him, since she liked me. Plus, she was used to working for jerks. I kept Franny, who’d been around forever and knew how things worked better than anyone else.
And, finally, I told Kurt that I really didn’t need his help anymore. I didn’t want his inside information; I didn’t want him misusing Corporate Security that way. I sure as hell didn’t want anyone finding out.
Kurt’s reaction was muted. It was clear that his feelings were hurt, although he wasn’t the type to ever say so.
I broke it to him early one morning at the gym in Somerville while I was lifting and he was spotting. “I can’t risk it,” I said. On the third set, I wimped out on the sixth rep, my arms trembling, going into muscle failure, and for the first time he didn’t help me finish the set. He also stopped spotting me. He just watched me struggle to raise the bar high enough to replace it in the stand.
I didn’t make it, and the bar came crashing down on my chest. I groaned. Then he lifted it up and out of my way. “You’re afraid you’re going to get caught?” he said. “That it?”
“No,” I said. “Because it’s wrong. It creeps me out.”
“Look who’s suddenly got religion.”
“Come on,” I said, sitting up, feeling a stabbing pain in my rib cage when I breathed. “I’ve always been…uncomfortable about it.”
“But you haven’t stopped me.”
“Like I could.”
“Not when you really needed my help. You didn’t refuse to read Gordy’s e-mails to Hardy, did you? And believe me, there’s going to be times when you need me again.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I’m just going to have to do without your help.”
“Now’s when you need me more than ever. You’re running the sales force of a major division of Entronics. You can’t afford to make a wrong move. You need to know everything that’s going on. IFF, we call it.”
“IFF?”
“Identity Friend from Foe. Basic procedure. So you shoot your enemies and not your friends. One of the things you learn downrange. Sometimes, when you’re outside the official battle lines, it’s hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys. Lots of companies hire competitive intelligence firms, you know.”
“Not like this.”
“No,” he admitted. “They’re not as good. Not as thorough. Like, for example, you need to know what Yoshi Tanaka’s really up to. He’s the key player here. He’s incredibly powerful. You want to stay on his good side.”
“I assume he’s working for the top guys, not for me. His loyalty lies in Tokyo. As long as I keep that in mind, I’m fine.”
“You think that’s all you need to know about Yoshi? What if I told you I’d captured a couple of e-mails he’s sent to Tokyo in the last couple of days? Encrypted, of course-512-bit public-key encryption-but Corporate Security is required to hold one of the keys. Written in Japanese, but I know a Japanese chick. Tell me you don’t want to know what he’s saying about you.” He smiled.
I hesitated, but only for a second. “No,” I said. “I don’t.”
“And your buddy Trevor?”
I shook my head. I was tempted to tell him about Trevor’s suspicions, but I decided not to. “No,” I said. “No more.”
His smile looked a little sardonic now. “Up to you, boss.”
Dick Hardy checked in on me fairly often, by phone or by e-mail. I felt a little like a teenager who’d just been given a learner’s permit and the keys to Dad’s car, and every night Dad checked it over for dings. He went over projections for the third quarter, wanted to make sure they were on target, wanted to see if I could jack them up a bit, wanted to know the status of every major deal. Wanted to make sure I was riding my guys hard enough.
“You can’t let up, even for a second,” he said on the phone several times. “This is it. This is the big time. Everything’s riding on this. Everything.”
I told him I understood. I told him I appreciated his faith in me, and he wouldn’t be disappointed.
I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.
I was in the restroom taking a pee when Trevor Allard came in. He nodded at me and went to the urinal at the far end of the row.
He waited for me to talk first, and I waited for him. I was his direct boss now.