"Ya think?"
"We won't find anything of use to us now," Adriana said. "Might as well get back to the hotel and get some rest… if we can."
"Right. Good luck sleeping tonight, everyone."
Chapter 19
"The shareholders aren't happy with your latest reports, Bernard. We were promised things would be better. So far all you've managed to accomplish is the same results as your predecessor."
Twelve sets of eyes stared at Bernard from their seats around the boardroom table. The sun had set nearly an hour ago. Its waning light filtered through the thirtieth-story windows and mingled with the sterile glow of the room's fluorescent bulbs.
But a white-hot light raged inside Bernard's chest — a fire, really, and one he had to temper for now. While he was the chairman of the board, things could change rapidly in the world of capitalism, especially in the oil sector.
The dozen ingrates around him were a greedy flock of vipers. Every single one of them would sell their own children if it meant another yacht in the Caribbean or another chalet in the Alps.
The man who'd spoken was a wealthy Aussie who'd made his initial money in real estate. When oil started becoming more prevalent in Australia, he was at the front of the line to get his share of the profits. A thin, bird-like character, he had a high hairline and a slender, pointed nose. His eyes, however, were piercing. When he wanted answers, he expected to get them quickly.
"Have you lost money?" Bernard asked. No one in the room responded. "No. You haven't. Every single one of you, to a man, has made 15 percent more than you did last quarter. You got a huge increase, and you're going to complain about it?"
"He's right, Bernard," another man to the right said. "You promised us we'd get an incredibly high return on our recent investments. Fifteen is good, but it's nothing close to what you said we could get."
The recent investments the man spoke of were an injection of funds the board had pooled together in order to purchase more land to the northwest of Adelaide. Reports had indicated large amounts of shale oil in that area. The problem was the owners weren't selling. They had no interest in becoming billionaires. Threatening them would have adverse effects and only make acquiring the land more difficult.
Fortunately, a solution to the problem had fallen right in Bernard's lap. He just needed a little more time.
"Gentlemen, of course you're right. I did make bold promises. And I have no intentions of letting you down."
"Your intentions… won't get us the money we were promised, Bernard." The man who spoke this time was one of the two oldest in the room. He was worth an incredible amount of money, and he carried the mantle of the board's respect. When he spoke, people were expected to listen. "You said we would get 1,000 percent return on the money we gave you. We don't care about your measly little 15 percent gains. We would have had that anyway. It's not like people have stopped using petroleum in the last ninety days."
The room erupted in a chorus of "Hear, hear" and "That's right."
Bernard put out both hands to try and get some order. It took more than a few minutes for the other twelve men to quiet down. When they finally did, Bernard stepped out from behind his seat and walked around the room. He touched the back of every chair as he passed by, biding his time before he spoke.
Every pair of eyes stared at him, waiting impatiently to hear his explanation.
"You men know as well as I do that things can change rapidly in the free market. One day, you're at the top of the food chain. The next, you're begging for scraps. It doesn't take much to be knocked off the pedestal." He stopped at the other end of the table and put his hand on the initial protestor's shoulder. "And make no mistake, gentlemen, we all have a target on our backs."
"We want results, not metaphors and long-winded speeches," the old man said.
Bernard pointed a finger at him and gave a curt nod. "Right you are, Jerry. Right you are. You all have risked a large amount of money, and you deserve to get what's coming to you."
"So when are you going to make it happen?" the second speaker asked. "And don't tell us to be patient. We've been plenty patient."
It was all Bernard could do to keep from yelling at the top of his lungs to shut them all up. There was a better way.
"Gentlemen, you have truly been patient with me. You really have. And I appreciate you putting your trust in what I have to offer."
He paced over to the window and stared out. The entire wall was covered in glass. The view of downtown was spectacular. The famous opera house stood next to the harbor about a half mile away. Holmes gazed out at the many buildings, streets, and sidewalks. People rushed around, filling their busy lives with whatever menial tasks they felt necessary. They were oblivious to the power play going on above. Holmes let his eyes stop on the building across the street. Most of the lights were off, save for a few here and there where people were burning the midnight oil.
Bernard paused for a second before he continued. He held up his hand and hit a button on a little remote. The lights dimmed, and a projector cast a map onto the far wall. The highlighted area was in South Australia, outlined in red. There were other locations highlighted in greens, blues, and yellows.
"The area in red," Bernard said, “is where our research teams have discovered an enormous deposit of shale oil."
Bernard's counterpart started to interrupt again, so he raised his voice and continued. "You will notice the areas surrounding it are some of the well-known oil deposits where drilling has already commenced or is about to. Some of those locations belong to us. That one in red, however, contains more than double what all the other areas hold combined."
"Yeah, it's also on land that's held by natives," a new voice chimed in. "You'll never get to that oil, not even if you waited a thousand years."
"What are you planning, Bernard? Some kind of drilling scheme where you go in sideways?" The chubby man who'd spoken up second laughed at his own joke.
The rest of the room joined in.
These laughing fools, Bernard thought.
Bernard put his hands behind his back and waited for things to die down again. When the noise settled, he continued. "Good one. Very clever." Bernard pointed at the man sitting at a middle seat. "To answer your question, Jaime, no, we are not planning on some sort of sideways drilling contraption to go in underneath the Aboriginal land." He paused again to let the drama build. "They are going to give us the land for free."
The room fell into deep silence. Bernard wasn't sure what to expect
"You're off your rocker, Bernard," one man finally said.
"He's lost his mind," another added.
Bernard held up both hands again to signal silence. "Please, hear me out. I know it must sound crazy to you, but I have received information about the location of something extremely important to the Aborigines. They would give anything for this relic. Soon, it will be in my possession."
"And what is this relic you're talking about, Bernard? Do you have it with you?" the old man asked.
"Regrettably, no. But I will have it in my possession soon, probably within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours."
Jerry had lost all control. He stood up and pointed an angry finger as he shouted. "You talk about things that are out of your control as if they have already happened. I can't believe we're actually having this conversation! Relics? Have you gone mad? We are an oil company, Bernard. We sell oil to the world. Last I checked, we're not in the archaeology business. It sounds like it's time for us to make some changes to this board." He looked around into the other faces at the table. Several of the men nodded in silent agreement. "We gave this imbecile enormous amounts of money, money from our own pockets, because he promised us an astronomical return. You know what I think? I think he conned us. Where is that money now, Bernard?" He turned to the chairman who remained calm, staring straight at his accuser. "Where is it? Huh?"