Chương 127: Book 4 - Chapter 12 B

The motorcade had grown to eight matte black Humvees. They pulled into the Atlantic Richfield Plaza in downtown Los Angeles with the precision of a military strike. The last Friday in July was surprisingly cool, which made the three hour car trip more enjoyable. Jack and his security team moved with practiced efficiency, clearing a path through the lobby while office workers stared in stunned silence as I charged in wearing a new black suit.

I was outgrowing them in just months and black graphene fabric wasn't easy to alter. Security moved around me, a protective wall as I headed to the elevators. We reached the top floor where the executive offices overlooked the sprawling city. Lodwrick Cook, the CEO of ARCO, was waiting by his desk. He was a tall, distinguished man who looked like he had been carved out of West Texas oil shale.

"Dr Cook," he said, stepping forward with an amused glint in his eye.

"I've been reading about you for years. I must say, I never thought I would be sharing a masthead with a junior version of myself. Any relation?"

"None that I know of, Mr Cook," I replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"Though I expect by this afternoon, the markets will assume we are cousins."

"I heard your people were poking around again," he said, his smile tightening into something more belligerent as he gestured for me to sit.

"I told them last year that ARCO isn't for sale. We just posted a two billion dollar profit. We are the most efficient refiner on the West Coast. Why would I hand over the keys to a thirteen-year-old kid, no matter how rich you are. This isn't a merger where you bamboozle your way into a stake for pennies on the dollar."

"Because your two billion dollar profit is based on a world that is about to vanish," I said.

"I am here to buy one hundred percent of Atlantic Richfield. I am prepared to offer $30 billion to take the company private. That is a massive premium over your current market cap, and I am putting every single thing I own on the line to make it happen." Lodwrick leaned back and scoffed.

"$30 billion? You're talking about a leveraged buyout that would make Milken blush. Where do you get that kind of liquidity? No bank is going to issue bonds for that amount."

"You're right. I am pledging sixty-five billion dollars of my personal holdings including TWP Media, Euro Motors, and Corning as collateral to secure the cash. They are giving me a 50% ltv. I am all in, Lodwrick. If this fails, I am broke. But it won't fail."

"You're insane," he whispered, the belligerence shifting into a dawning horror.

"You're gambling a global empire on a retail gas station chain? Why?"

"Distribution," I said.

"I don't need your oil fields, and I certainly don't need your refineries. I am going to make them redundant."

"How?" he asked. I motioned for Mr Droust to step forward. The white-haired man from the White House opened his briefcase and laid out two documents.

"First, the standard corporate NDA," I said.

"Second, a National Security Secrecy agreement. If you breathe a word of what I am about to show you, you won't just be fired. You will disappear. The President is personally interested in the success of this project." Lodwrick looked at Mr Droust, then at the seal on the paperwork. He stood and signed both with a shaking hand. Mr Droust carefully placed the papers in his case. I waited until he was out the door and it was just the two of us.

"My Nuclear plant at Satsop is undergoing a transformation," I explained.

"Using the heat from the secondary generation plant, we are powering synthesis of pure synthetic fuel. Using a large-scale atmospheric carbon capture system. We pull CO2 from the air and hydrogen from water, then use a catalyst to synthesize liquid hydrocarbons. I call it SynGas. It is a drop-in replacement for ninety-two octane gasoline." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Lodwrick stumbled back into his chair having stood to sign the papers.

I set a sheet on his desk listing the details.

"General Atomics will be selling this fuel to ARCO for twenty-five cents a gallon," I continued.

"You can set your own price at the pump. We start with a hundred thousand gallons a day on January first. By March, the dedicated plant comes online and that jumps to twenty million gallons a day. After that, we build solar thermal plants and ISPBR reactors across the country until production meets the national demand. We will produce hundreds of millions of gallons a day. SynGas, SynDiesel, SynA1, all the varieties of SynFuels.

No more drilling, no more crude tankers, no more OPEC altering the supply of fuel in the country." Lodwrick stared at the specs, his breath hitching. The horror was complete now. He looked at his charts, at his two billion dollar profit, and realized it was all scrap metal.

"Twenty-five cents? You'll destroy the price of crude. The refineries... they'll be worth nothing."

"Exactly. That is why I need you to manage the acquisition for me. I will bring in Martin Davis to handle the divestitures. We are going to sell off the refineries and the Alaskan production fields to the highest bidders while the market still thinks oil is gold. We will use their own money to pay off my loans. By the time they realize they bought a graveyard, we will own the entire energy future of the country. I need the purchase done quick, and the sell off even faster."

He looked out the window at the hazy LA skyline, the gears of his mind turning with a new, avaricious speed. He wasn't looking at a crisis anymore, he saw a monopoly.

"Normally I'd replace the CEO of a company I buy," I told him.

"But I want you to stay. I want you to act as the President and CEO of the greatest technology shift since the steam engine. You report to me, the board is dissolved and you run the show." Lodwrick leaned forward, his shark-like grin finally appearing. It was pure, unadulterated greed.

"If I'm going to bet my career on a thirteen-year-old and a secret that could get me killed, I want a piece of the action. I want a performance bonus. I want five percent of the new company's equity."

"You'll get a bonus based on the successful divestiture of the old assets," I said, meeting his gaze.

"And I'm willing to give you one percent of ARCO every year until we hold an IPO to return it to the market. You'll be the best-paid CEO in history, Lodwrick. You'll have more money than you can spend in ten lifetimes. Is that enough, or do I go talk to the people at Unocal?" He didn't hesitate. He held out his hand.

"I'll make the offer tonight. I can handle the board. I'll tell them you've found something at that island of yours in the South Pacific that makes the North Slope look like a puddle. They'll jump at the premium."

"Good," I said, standing up.

"Welcome to the future, Mr Cook. Let's go make some history." Sunday morning I called my Grandpa.

"Hi Grandpa. I need to meet with you," I told him.

"Great, I'm in LA getting the New Ambassador hotel ready. Your Grandma is here too. She'd love to see you."

"Okay, give her my love and tell her I'll see you tomorrow. I'll need several hours of your time."

"Alright, I'll make room in my schedule. Our suite has the space, you can stay with us too."

"Oh, actually I need you to come here," I told him"To San Diego? On a Monday morning? I can do that, but I can't spend the night. I'll hire a helicopter. I'll get to use the refurbished landing pad here in LA for the first time," he said with added excitement. His comment made me wish I had my helicopter already.

"Okay, my security will pick you up," I told him.

"Let them know which airport you're coming to." The next morning he arrived, very excited having enjoyed his flight. Grandma wasn't so thrilled.

"I think I'll drive back to LA," she said, as I welcomed them. Grandpa looked at me, and I shrugged.

"During morning rush hour you save about an hour and a half in travel time," I told her.

"If you leave after dinner it would only be about two hours to get back if you drove." He gave her a little comforting hug.

"Okay, we'll drive back after dinner," he said compromising. It was impressive that she had even taken the helicopter at all. As Grandma caught up with Angella, I led him through the modern glass walls of the house and out to the back deck. The San Diego sun was beating down from clear blue skies. The 77-degree day was perfect for the demonstration. On a heavy marble table I had set up a machine that looked like a cross between a homemade distillery and the winner of an eighth grade science fair.