Back Cutting Edge
Chapters (16)
  1. Title Page
  2. Acknowledgements
  3. ONE - OFFSHORE GABON, EQUATORIAL AFRICA
  4. TWO - VARIOUS LOCALES
  5. THREE - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA MADRID, SPAIN GABON, AFRICA
  6. FOUR - GABON, AFRICA CALIFORNIA
  7. FIVE - VARIOUS LOCALES
  8. SIX - CALIFORNIA GABON, AFRICA
  9. SEVEN - GABON, AFRICA SAN JOSE
  10. EIGHT - GABON, AFRICA CALIFORNIA
  11. NINE - CALIFORNIA
  12. TEN - VARIOUS LOCALES
  13. ELEVEN - VARIOUS LOCALES
  14. TWELVE - VARIOUS LOCALES
  15. THIRTEEN - SAN JOSE GABON, AFRICA
  16. EPILOGUE

Everyone from UpLink looked about as zonked as Nimec felt. He had wanted representatives from his Sword contingent at the gathering as a gesture of courtesy, but because they weren’t part of the business delegation had seen no reason to trot out the entire bunch. He’d thus asked for only a handful of volunteers, having allowed those who preferred to skip the festivities do so after their long, taxing haul from California. Starting tomorrow his group would have its work cut out conducting surveys of UpLink’s new onshore and offshore facilities and laying the groundwork for site policies, procedures, and equipment. Let them relax while they could.

Aside from a fleet of black-tuxed, white-gloved servers weaving about the room with trays of hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, the rest of the people Nimec scoped from the entryway belonged to the Gabonese welcoming committee: politicians and administrative appointees led by Etienne Begela, who Nimec’s well-studied contact brief tagged as bureaucratic head of the telecom regulatory agency in Port-Gentil.

Now Begela looked over at Nimec, excused himself from a group of UpLink executives he’d engaged, and approached with his arm outstretched.

Nimec went forward to meet him. The atrium was awash with sunlight even though it was almost seven in the evening. It gleamed off the silver trays and table settings and spilled through the glass-paneled ceiling onto exotic blossoming floor plants, which Nimec didn’t recognize in the least and which seemed almost too outlandishly tall and lush to be genuine.

“Monsieur Nimec, hello, it is a pleasure.” Begela pumped his hand, offered a huge white-toothed smile, and introduced himself in French-accented English. Nimec wondered briefly how the minister had identified him right off, then guessed one of the execs had pointed him out. Either that or Begela had been pretty good about reviewing his own background files. “I hope you are finding your accommodations satisfactory after such a lengthy trip, and would like you to know I’ve personally selected those hotel staffers who will be attending to your party throughout its stay.”

“I appreciate that,” Nimec said. “Everything’s great.”