TUNA LIFE (32 page)

“What’s the status?” he yelled into his mobile. He was on his way back from another unsuccessful trip to Nimbin. He hadn’t been able to find Frank. A few people at the Hemp Embassy had recognised Frank from the picture he showed them, but they all claimed he hadn’t been around for weeks. Andrew’s luck hadn’t been any greater at the museum or the cafés. No one had seen Frank the last month.

Andrew was, however, determined to find him. He knew Frank was somewhere in Nimbin, he could feel it. But right now he had more immediate problems to deal with. The Tuna Life app seemed to have turned on by itself, and was invading the privacy of its unsuspecting users. Whatever Fabian had discovered, had somehow been activated, and nobody knew what was going to happen next.

The information coming out of the office was anything but good. A flood of complaints was clogging the support line, and the Tuna Life staff was struggling to find out what had happened. Internet publications were jumping on the case like paparazzi on a nude celebrity, and they all wanted statements from Andrew.

He had none.

He realised he missed his old job at Avensis Accounting. It hadn’t been well-paid, it hadn’t been fun or rewarding, but at least he had been able to go home most nights without thinking about work, and at least he hadn’t had to deal with issues like this one.

“Ok, no one makes any public statements before I’m back in the office. Contact Richard and ask him to come in as well.” Andrew considered the situation. “On second thought; contact Roman as well. I want to have a meeting with Roman, Ken and Richard, eleven o’clock in the boardroom.” Andrew rang off.

Andrew received a call back from Yvonne, the secretary, five minutes later. The meeting had been moved to Roman’s house at Sovereign Island. Andrew accepted.

He turned on the Pandora radio app, and searched up a station with relaxing music. Cool Summer Chilling. It didn’t work. He was too agitated to relax. His heart was pounding like a restless leg. He had already passed one speed camera. He hadn’t noticed any flash, but he was pretty certain he had been driving at least twenty k’s over the limit. When he arrived at Roman’s house there probably wouldn’t be any points left on his licence. But that was a small price to pay.

He had to get back to save the company.

And every single second counted.

Richard stood in the driveway of Roman’s massive mansion at Sovereign Island, when Andrew parked his Tesla. The battery gauge was as usual in the red zone, but he had managed to get there. A string of luxury cars were parked inside the garage. A black Maserati, a silver Bentley, and a black Aston Martin. Roman obviously had an expensive taste in cars. Ken Speis’ black Toyota Land Cruiser, and Richard Smith’s silver BMW X5 were both parked on the street.

“Where have you been?” Richard asked.

“I’ve had the day off. Needed to sort out some personal stuff,” Andrew replied.

“You sure know how to pick the day,” Richard said as he started walking towards the entrance of Roman’s house.

Andrew glanced up at the camera embedded in the ceiling. Roman had more cameras on the property than a medium sized TV station. The Russian didn’t leave anything to accident.

They entered a lavishly decorated hall. Roman’s house was, as most other houses on Sovereign Island, way too big, and devoid of any warmth. It felt more like they were entering a hotel lobby than a private home. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling. Andrew wondered if it would fit inside his apartment. It was definitively bigger than his bedroom.

Two grand stairways wormed themselves up to the second floor, where they met above the opening to the living room. Andrew could hear clanking of glassware and laughter. Roman had obviously started on his first drink of the morning. Hopefully the alcohol, and the fact that he seemed to be laughing, would mean he was in a good mood. But you never knew with Roman.

Richard and Andrew continued across the white tiles, and into the living room. The house was like a cut-out of an interior decorating magazine. The living room was one of those where everything had its place. If you moved a chair five centimetres to the left, you ruined the whole impression.

Andrew wondered what Ken thought about the place. Ken was a brilliant web designer, and always favoured a minimalistic impression. This house went against everything he believed in. It would have to be an insult to his sense impressions.

It didn’t look like that was the case, however. When Richard and Andrew arrived at the large glass table where Roman and Ken were sitting, it appeared that Ken was praising Roman’s good taste in decorating his house. How well the furniture complimented the windows, how well the rooms were positioned.

“Thanks for the tour, Roman. You have a wonderful home.”

Roman brushed the comment aside. He hadn’t taken any part in the interior decoration of the house. He had bought it unseen, completely finished, with everything from furniture to cutlery included. He was, however, already getting tired of it. He was in the process of planning a new house across the street. It had a bigger mooring space. The yacht he had had under construction was too big for his pontoon. He needed a bigger one, and thus he needed a bigger house.

“Why don’t you just move into your new yacht,” Ken asked. “It will have all the facilities. Why live in a house when you can live in a floating palace?”
Roman laughed a booming laughter. It almost appeared that he, for a brief moment, seriously considered Ken’s proposal.

“It’s not a bad idea. But it wouldn’t be secure. Why don’t you help me with the interior of my new house instead? You’ve got a good eye for these things.”

“It will be a pleasure,” Ken said.

Then Roman turned to face Andrew and Richard, who had now arrived at the table. His face immediately turned serious.

“So, what is happening?” he asked.

“We have a problem,” Andrew replied.

“A challenge,” Richard interjected.

“A problem,” Andrew continued.

Roman just stared at them, his eyes seemed to narrow.

“During the last four hours we have received several thousand complaints from users. They claim that the Tuna Life app has been turning on by itself, and that it has been taking pictures.”

“They are claiming that the app has been taking pictures without their knowledge?”

“Correct,” Andrew answered.

“Are we certain the error is ours? Could it be the camera software?”

Andrew shook his head. “Every engineer in the company has been working non-stop since we received the first reports. We still don’t fully know what’s happened, but we are certain the problem is on our end. There is something wrong with the Tuna Life code.”

Andrew studied Roman’s face. If he knew something about the virus, he was a brilliant actor. His face remained emotionless, like the face of a statue.

“So what are we doing to fix this?” Roman asked.

“As I said, all hands are on deck. We are working hard to find solutions to the problem.”

“Have we issued a statement to the press?”

Richard and Andrew briefly looked at each other, before Richard replied. “No, not yet. We were hoping to acquire some more information before we addressed the press.”

“Let’s write it up now. We need to let our investors know that we are on top of things. We need to be perceived as proactive, we need to be perceived as in control,” Roman said, and threw a pen towards Richard.

During the next half hour they carved out a press release, and a plan for how to attack the issue. Andrew, however, felt sidelined. Roman seemed to mostly rely on Richard and Ken for input, and when Andrew offered his opinion, it didn’t seem to be seriously considered. Andrew was the CEO of Tuna Life, but in this setting he felt more like an observer, a junior employee who had been brought along to learn how the executives arrived at their decisions.

Was Roman blaming Andrew?

Should he prepare to suffer the same fate as Frank? To be squeezed out of the company and lose his shares?

“Ok. We have a plan. What we now need is a war chest,” Roman said.

“A war chest?” Andrew repeated.

“Money,” Richard answered. “We have a week of runway, and then we are broke. The plan was to do the new share issue this Friday. But I can guarantee you that Ferdeko Ventures won’t be very keen to invest until we have sorted out this issue. Not at the valuation we are asking for, anyway.”

“So how do we avoid going broke? How do we raise money in less than a week?” Andrew asked; he was visibly stressed.

“As main shareholders you can all inject money,” Richard said.

Andrew felt the nausea lingering. True, he had received two hundred thousand in the last share emission, but there wasn’t much left of it. There was actually none left of it. Not even enough to cover the tax bill he would receive in twelve months’ time.

“How much do we need?” Ken asked calmly.

“Well, the new share issue was intended to be for twenty million, but I guess five million would give us enough runway,” Richard said.

Ken whistled.

Roman remained silent.

Andrew could see where this was heading. “So Roman will become the new majority shareholder? That’s the plan isn’t it? Ken and I are out. You are just going to take over our shares, just like you did with Frank’s.”

“You and Ken have the same opportunity to invest as Roman. Nobody is either forcing or denying you to invest.”

“And what will the valuation be? A couple of days ago you talked about a valuation of half a billion. Is that the price we will be investing money at?”

Richard shook his head. “Don’t be difficult, Andrew. You know, as well as I, that that valuation was based on different circumstances. This is a crisis-emission. We need to raise cash by the end of this week, otherwise we risk having to declare bankruptcy. The valuation will reflect this situation.”

Andrew rose from the table. “I want to know what the valuation is going to be before I accept anything.”

“Sit down, sit the fuck down.” Roman pushed his chair out with his legs, and got up. The fat stocky man looked like he was fuming with anger as he stared at Andrew with his lizard eyes. “No one leaves this table until we have made some decisions. Andrew, let me be totally clear on this: You do not work in a big corporation, you do not work in the public sector. You work for me. I don’t employ committees or bureaucrats. That is my strength. When the shit hits the fan, I make decisions. And today, you are going to do the same. Today we either save Tuna Life, or we let it die. Either way, we will all bleed today. The question is how much.” Roman pushed his chair closer to the table, and rested against it. “How much do you have left of your two hundred?” Roman asked.

Andrew did a quick calculation in his head. “About forty thousand,” he answered.

Richard glanced over at Roman, genuinely surprised, as if he was a father who had just been told his son had gambled away his inheritance.

“How much do you have left?” Roman asked Ken without missing a beat.

“Two hundred thousand,” Ken replied.

Andrew sighed. Ken came from a family rolling in money. Of course he hadn’t had to dip into any of the cash.

“Ok. This is how we do it,” Roman said.

“You, Ken and I inject one million each. We all maintain our respective percentages. There is no change in ownership.”

“Didn’t you listen to what I just said? I can’t come up with a million. The forty thousand I’ve got left won’t even cover my tax bill for next year,” said Andrew.

“I’ll lend you the money, on commercial terms, using your shares as collateral. You’ll have twelve months before you get that tax bill, Andrew. Plenty of time to make more money.”

Andrew considered the unexpected proposal. He had felt sidelined throughout the whole discussion about how to deal with the camera crisis. Quite frankly, he had thought that Roman was about to push him out of the company. Now Roman offered to lend him the money so that he could maintain his shareholding. It was the strongest vote of confidence he could have asked for. Roman still wanted him as CEO.

He wasn’t on his way out, like Frank.

Andrew extended his hand. It was an offer too good not to accept.

Surprisingly, Ken was the one who baulked. “I can come up with a million, Roman. I just need some time,” he said.

“How much time?” Roman asked.

“A week? I’ll have to talk to my dad. And the money will have to be transferred from Hong Kong.”

“We can’t wait that long,” Roman said. “You can borrow money from me. Pay me back in a week’s time if that’s what you want. But we do this now.”

“Why can’t we just lend Tuna Life the money? If this is just a short-term solution there is no real need to do a share issue.”

“I already told you, Ken, I don’t employ committees. We do it this way. End of discussion.” Roman then pointed to Andrew. “You and Ken should head back to the office. It is important that you are present over the next few days. Richard can handle the share emission.”

Andrew and Ken nodded.

“Richard, contact the lawyers. I want to have the new share emission placed before tomorrow afternoon.”

Richard nodded, before rising to leave.

“You stay, Richard. You and I have other matters to discuss,” Roman said.

“What do you think they are talking about?” Andrew asked, as he and Ken left Roman’s house.

“Your guess is as good as mine. But they’ve got other investments too. Tuna Life is probably not the only company with problems.”

Ken’s assessment made Andrew let his shoulders down. “See you in the office,” he said, and walked over to the Tesla.

“Why do you hold on to him?” Richard asked. “He’s not mature enough for the role. He’ll never be mature enough.”

“Relax,” Roman answered. “Andrew is already gone. He just borrowed money from me. Always remember, Richard. He, who holds the gold, makes the rules.”

Richard studied his boss. He had said it with such casualness. He was planning to force Andrew out of the company, and it didn’t bother him at all. Richard hoped he would never end up on the wrong side of Roman in business, he hoped he would never end up on the wrong side of Roman in anything.