Corporate Man is called in to investigate reports of vile, unethical business practices at Great American Business Company. What he finds there just might destroy him (except we all know the ending to The Tragic Death of Corporate Man so it should be fairly obvious that it can't really destroy him, though it can come close).

Enslaved by the Bonus Whores is an all new Corporate Man Adventure Serial. Chapters will post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

After nearly a decade of imprisonment, Corporate Man returns to find the economy in ruins and his deadliest enemies in control of all but a fraction of society's wealth. He embarks upon a quest to set right the wrongs of the business world; a task that will ultimately destroy him.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Chapter 19

“Wait.  How long was I gone?” asked Mr. Jones.
“No one’s seen you since the turn of the century.  Ten years at least,” said Tanya Jefferson.  They were speeding along the interstate, Tanya glancing back and forth in the rearview mirrors.  “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Election night.  Al asked me to check out a situation in Florida.  I was working side by side with him and the Clintons.  They had plans to continue building up the economy.  I try not to take sides, but that imbecile the Republicans were running encouraged my participation.”
Tanya cut across three lanes of traffic, barely making the exit.  In her mirrors she saw two brown sedans attempt the same maneuver.  They didn’t make it.  Tanya smiled.
“So what happened in Florida?” she asked.
“It’s hazy.  I think they were trying to rig the election, but I’m not sure if that was simply bait to lure me into their trap or what.”
“Oh they rigged the election alright.  And that moron somehow managed to get a second term in office.  Coincidentally, the country is now a financial ruin.”
“I failed,” Mr. Jones said.
“Hey don’t–”
“No.  No.  I went down there to stop that sort of thing and they outsmarted me,” Mr. Jones said, shaking his head.  “How?”
Tanya banked the car into a dark alley and parked it in a shadowy spot.
“Quick.  Follow me.”
They fled the vehicle, scurried up the fire escape of an adjacent building, climbed through an unlocked window into a vacant apartment, ran out into the adjoining hallway, dashed down the corridor, then down a stairwell to the basement garage, crept over to a nondescript minivan, got in, and drove back out onto the street.
They drove in silence for some time and it wasn’t until they had traded the minivan for a pickup truck in a similar series of preplanned steps that Mr. Jones asked the question that had been burning in the back of his brain.
“Didn’t anybody else stand up to this?  Did nobody fight back?”