Addendum 20

            “No Tess, I haven’t heard from him,” Miss Pension said.

            Tess twirled her fingers in the chord of her phone.  “He asked me to resign today.  Said it was part of some plan he had.  I can’t just quit.  Do you realize what I’d lose if I did that?  Did he mention this plan to you?”

            “No, but like I said, I haven’t heard from him.”

            “Something’s wrong.”

            “You can’t know that, Tess.”

            “I can feel it.  And there’s something wrong with him.  He was… jittery and his eyes, I swear they were dilated or something.”

            “And he was out sick before,” Miss Pension said.  “Corporate Man is never sick.”

            “I need some help out here.  He needs some help.”

            “There’s no one available.”

            “No one?  Don’t you guys have a bunch of members?”

            “Yeah, but the Union is stretched pretty thin right now.  Our last campaign hospitalized a few of our members.  Hang in there, Tess.  I’ll try to think of something.”

Addendum 10

            “Thanks, Tess,” said Miss Pension.  “Just hang in there, okay?”

            “I will.  And tell Corporate Man that I hope he’s feeling better.”

            “Wait  What?”

            “He wasn’t in today.  I assumed he was out on some sort of reconnaissance, using that flu that’s going around the office as cover.”

            “No,” said Miss Pension.  “He’s there to gather intel and infiltrate Great American Business Company.  If he was out of the office today then he’s either sick, or something’s gone wrong.”

Addendum 4

“Thank you for the cover ID, Miss Pension.”

“Not a problem, Corporate Man.  That Donald Jackson person you had me cook up is a real piece of work.”

“He had to be or they wouldn’t have noticed my resume.”

“I suppose.  Half of his financial credits are for companies he bankrupted and the other half for corporate giants who laid off half their workforce during their most profitable years.  It’s sick, if you ask me.  And if what you suspect is true… I mean, it sounds like The Greed all over again.”

“I’m not so sure,” Corporate Man said.  He set a file folder in a black briefcase and snapped the hasps closed.  Then he walked over to the Coffee Maker in The Breakroom at The Office (the secret mountain base of The Union) and poured himself a cup of efficient black.  “This is something new.  Something a little different.”

“What’s the name of this place you’ll be working?”

“Great American Business Company.”

“Never heard of them,” Miss Pension said.  She picked at her lunch.  A battered paperback lie, unopened, beside her plate.

“Nationally, they’re invisible, but they’re number one in their region, and for all the right reasons.  But now…”

“The Greed.  Gotta be.  We’ve seen it before.”

Corporate Man shook his head and sat down at the small break room table.  He sipped his coffee.

“I don’t like it that you’re going in alone.”

“Can’t be helped.  Business Woman is working the international market.  John Q Public is still off grid after that business with The Crash.  Normally I’d send Junior in ahead of me but–”

“That matter with the Corporate Mind Hive.  Yes.  Junior Executive is still recovering.  I wish you’d wait for back up.”

“I don’t think we have time.  Something’s insinuated itself within the walls of Great American Business Company and, from what I gather, it’s spreading fast.”

“You’ll check in daily, yes?” Miss Pension said.

“You know I will.”