Chương 90: Book 3 - Chapter 15 B

Having an assistant that shares your hotel room might sound nice, until you heard Matt snore. Today sharing a suite with Matt worked its magic. He stepped back into the room after going across the hall to security's room to use the phone.

"I've got a flight booked from Munich leaving at eleven to Paris," he said breathlessly.

"But there's a problem, I can only get three seats on the Tuesday afternoon Concorde to JFK and security is demanding two of them." I smiled widely.

"Finally!" I said. He looked momentarily hurt.

"I'm not going?" he asked.

"We planned for this, remember? When I have to be in two places at once, you take one of them." He nodded, remembering.

"You'll just have to spend a few days without my protection," I teased. His smile lit up again.

"So what do I do at BMW?"

"Just hand them the section of the plan that Pehr needs as he talks to Dr von Kuenheim. That's what I do, I'm practically his trained monkey." Matt snorted, knowing I did much more than that as he sat in on those meetings too.

"Okay Boss. I'll man the fort. So quick itinerary then we need you packed and ready to go."

"My suitcase is packed, did it last night with my new German suits." He nodded but wasn't paying attention, instead he was trying to read his own handwriting on the hotel notepad.

"Munich to Paris 11am to 1215pm. Time for lunch at the airport. Don't forget about that place in the airport that has the amazing croissants you like," he added absently.

"2pm Concorde arriving at JFK fifteen minutes before you arrive, local time."

"I love that plane," I told him. He nodded, knowing that already.

"The Detroit flight is nonstop and leaves at 3pm, you should be there by 5pm local. Just in time for dinner. Security picked the seats on the 727 after I told them you'd want the window."

"Excellent work," I praised.

"I'll be there all night. They'll make the announcement in the morning Paris time, and I'll show up while they are running around like headless chickens."

"So breakfast then?" Matt asked, jumping to the primary item on the list for the day.

"Sure, order something big. I'm going to get showered and dressed. Give my apologies to everyone at this afternoon's meeting."

"Will do, Boss. Good Luck!" he said as I closed the bathroom door. The Northwest Airlines flight bumped heavily on the runway as it landed in Detroit.

"No tip," I muttered, getting a laugh from Nick Nicholson who had been a fun travel companion. I normally had Matt next to me, his nose buried in his romance novels. Jack behind him tapped on Nick's shoulder. When he turned Jack tapped his ear-piece running to the transducer at his collar.

"Security on the ground is ready and waiting. Full convoy," he whispered.

"Aren't you supposed to turn stuff off when we land?" I whispered to Nick.

"We didn't when I worked on Air Force One," he said softly in reply. Nick and Jack sitting behind us had traveled without luggage, so they could carry mine as a carry-on. There was no need for the luggage carousel. Immigration was handled at JFK, causing a bit of surprise when they saw my Diplomatic Passport. After pulling up to the gate we were whisked out first, having sat behind the exit the entire flight. It was a hurried march to the waiting suburbans, security alert and in force.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Once in the car and on the way to the airport Captain Mark was there to brief me.

"Teague got in about thirty minutes before you did. He's excited. Thomas has been here since around 630 this morning. I flew with him to bolster security here. I've got the details from Thomas but I'm worried about the unions."

"Don't be. I need a shower and to freshen up. Then if Dick wants dinner we can do it in my room."

"Understood Boss," he said with a grin. I just shook my head.

"Nice, no snow," I commented, looking out the window.

"Munich had four inches and was expected to be under 30 all day."

"Don't expect it to get warm. The groundhog saw his shadow yesterday," Mark warned.

"At least it's above freezing," I said.

"Weather like this is why I love San Diego." The drive from the Ritz-Carlton in Dearborn to the AMC Headquarters building in Southfield was quick but heavy with the weight of expectation. The next morning, Wednesday, February 4th, the news was already everywhere. AMC's stock was halted. The Wall Street Journal had a massive headline: 'Cook Acquires AMC/Jeep: French Out, Billionaire Boy In?' We rolled up to the corporate offices just before 9am.

It was a chaotic mess of news trucks and reporters in front of the gold tinted skyscraper, but my convoy sliced through it, pulling directly into the loading dock where Thomas had arranged an entrance. Inside, the lobby was tense. A group of grim-faced French executives, led by the local CEO, were huddled near the elevator bank, clearly planning their defense. We strode past them. The meeting room was packed. Not just with the board and legal teams, but with managers, engineers, and autoworkers.

They had only heard rumors that this day might be coming, the speed of the announcement had caught everyone off guard. They were watching Teague, but they were also watching me. I stood on the raised platform at the front of the room, flanked by Mark and Teague. I didn't introduce myself. I didn't need to.

"You know why I'm here," I said, my voice echoing loudly in the tense silence.

"As of midnight my holding company is the undisputed controlling shareholder of American Motors Corporation and Jeep." I looked directly at the French CEO, who bristled.

"I have two announcements. First, to the Renault management and every executive appointed by the French board," I paused, letting the silence stretch.

"You're fired! Effective immediately. Clean out your desks and be off the property within the hour." There was a collective gasp, followed by a low rumble of approval from the back of the room. The French CEO tried to speak, but Mark's team was already gently steering him toward the exit.

"Second," I continued, "I am pleased to announce the new President and CEO of American Motors Corporation. A man who has lived and breathed this company. A man who designed the cars you love and the future you deserve. Your new leader is Dick Teague!" The room erupted. Engineers, designers, and floor managers cheered, stood on chairs, and stamped their feet. It wasn't polite applause. The loud, messy explosion of relief and hope didn't seem to want to stop.

Teague stepped forward, a wide grin splitting his face, his eyes shining. He grabbed the microphone from me, letting the cheers wash over him for a moment. He was dressed in the perfect American-made charcoal suit, the kind you only saw in Detroit.

"Well," he began, his voice cracking slightly before he found his old booming register.

"The kid did it! They tried to tell me the American dream of building great cars was dead. They tried to tell me my designs were too big, too American, too damn good to be French! But as John said, they're out." He raised his fists in the air and shouted the phrase that cemented his return.

"It's D-Day all over again, the French are out and American ingenuity is back!" The autoworkers in the back of the room roared. Teague was home. I stepped back, watching the crowd. The first part was done. Now, he just had to build the cars. I needed to be back in Munich to bring it all together.

"Thomas," I said, back at the hotel much later that evening. I had spent too much time that day in the board room after my TV camera announcement making the changes legal and official.

"Yes, boss?"

"I need you to do two things. First get an offer out to the shareholders. I want 100% of the company. The markets are going to be down, the news is crazy and even if eventually it is good, crazy news drops the price. Go for around $3. 50 a share. Make that offer, and remind them that the $767 million in corporate debt means possible bankruptcy if they balk." He gave me a serious look.

"I can make the offer, but are you sure you want to waive the bankruptcy flag so soon?"

"I do. And as soon as you get the offer accepted go to the companies holding the debt. Tell them that I'd like to settle it. Negotiate it down to around 60 cents on the dollar if you can. Tell them it's an all cash offer, and remind them the other option is bankruptcy." He took a big breath and gave me a firm nod.

"Okay, boss. I'll get it done."

"Thanks," I said giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"And just so you know, I've got the cash to pay off the debt completely as is, and pay an even higher premium for the outstanding stock. I just don't want to."

"Who would," he said with a laugh.