CHAPTER 1
It was late September in Connecticut and the leaves had already started to change color, a bit early for the northeastern part of the United States, but not unusual. Bacro Industries had been floundering as of late, and it had become increasingly more difficult for its chief CEO and co-founder, Doctor Vincent D’Alleva, to keep the electricity on and the doors open for business. Once housing the creative minds of nearly one hundred and fifty employees, the corporation was currently running on a skeleton crew of just six. In the early 1980’s, it had been much easier to navigate around the government regulations put in place for an environmentally-friendly company, but the 1990s and beginning of the new millennia, had made it more and more difficult for the company to continue being profitable, while operating within the new, stricter limitations of the EPA.
The once lush and dark colored hair of the doctor had begun to show signs of thinning and silver highlights. Each day, as he slipped further and further into debt and depression, he became more and more desperate to save his beloved company, and his life’s work.
His early college years had been occupied by majoring in environmental science with a minor in botany. After graduation, his thirst for knowledge led him on the road to earning a Ph.D. in organic chemistry. His life’s dream had focused around being the creator of a fertilizer that could ultimately put an end to starvation in the world by exponentially increasing the growth rate and overall yield of the world’s staple crops like corn, wheat, and rice. Over the years, the cost of chemicals had increased and many became easily expendable due to volatile interactions and shorter shelf lives. Updated chemical formulas using substitute reactants did not always produce the desired results and even though Vincent had been successful at creating a profitable plant food, the most recently updated EPA regulations now classified it as something that might be ecologically harmful to the environment, and a possible carcinogen.
This resulted in his previously successful fertilizer being pulled from the shelves, and in him spending a multitude of hours in the lab, frantically trying to create a new formula, but with little success. With the lack of a profitable product on the market and a multitude of government fines, the future of his company was imminently growing bleak.
“The government limits my use of phosphates. What do they know? Phosphates make plants thrive. It’s not my fault that the farmers are incompetent and continue to overuse them! I didn’t make the runoff from their farms contaminate the nearby lakes, rivers, and streams. They can’t blame me for the misuse of my product!” He angrily smashed his fist onto his desk. “The packaging is clearly marked with the appropriate guidelines and precautions! It worked exceptionally well in the 80s, and can still be used with the same results today!”
The frustrated scientist had literally begun to pull his hair out in clumps. The pending collapse of his biochemical and pharmaceutical empire was taking an enormous toll on his mental and physical health.
“Why had I been so stupid? Why didn’t I save some of my money and invest it when I was making it? I can’t believe that I succumbed to the overwhelming pressure to succeed, and now, it has slowly driven everything good from my life!”
Vincent blamed the demise of his marriage on his company’s floundering, but in reality, it had ended because his work had become his obsession. He had shut out his supportive and loving wife of ten years, completely alienating her. As a result, she recently filed for divorce and had taken away his son, Antonio, and his pride and joy, little Isabella. This latest development left him heartbroken, lonely and severely depressed.
As he stared at the ever-growing pile of government and bank notifications on the desk, his eyes drifted to the small, gold-framed photo of his two beloved children. Overwhelmed with emotions, and realizing that he might never see them again only caused him to further spiral out of control. As he tried to focus through his now blurry, tear-soaked eyes, his utter exhaustion caused him to imagine that his children were mocking him. The more he pleaded with the photo of his cherished offspring, the more they laughed, causing him to feel more and more like the ultimate failure. He walked over to the corner of his spacious office and opened the door to his personal closet. After removing all his coats and suit jackets from the clothing rod, he unbuckled and removed the belt from around his waist. Still facing the photo of his precious children, he attached one end of his belt to the closet rod and began to create a noose with the other.
His desperation was fast turning into hopelessness as the feelings of failure continued to torment his mind. The audible chime emanating from the clock on the wall reminded him that it was two in the morning, and he had once again pulled an all day and night shift. Vincent stared at the noose in his hands and was close to ending his misery when he heard two loud knocks coming from his office door.
Thud! Thud!
“Who could possibly be here at this hour?”
His initial thoughts told him to simply ignore it and proceed with his original plan, but then the knocks happened again. Only this time, more forcefully.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Dr. D'Alleva, I know you’re in there. I was wondering if I might have a word with you?”
He paused for a moment not recognizing the voice. Was it another government auditor? A tax collector? Who could possibly be requesting an audience with him at this hour? He looked down at the homemade noose in his hands one more time, briefly contemplated sliding it over his head, but then made the decision to open his door and invite his visitor in.
Thud! Thud! Thud! The sound reverberated once more as he turned to face the office door.
“I’m coming! I’m coming! Hold your horses! Will you?”
As he spanned the several meters between his personal closet and the office door, he paused briefly before undoing the lock. Instead, he called out to the unknown person just outside.
“Well?” He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes vanquishing any remaining signs of his despair. “Who is it?” There was a brief moment of silence before the unseen visitor responded.
“I’m a friend, someone who has taken notice of your--skills, and can offer you a way to save your currently crumbling corporation.”
“And why would you want to do that?” The doctor’s answer seemed perturbed, although, in reality, he was truly more intrigued.
“Quite simply--- Because I can.” Was the reply from behind the door.
Vincent completed the motion of unlatching the three deadbolts that secured his door and cautiously granted access to the unknown and unseen man. Once the door swung open, he was greeted by a rather dapper looking, thirty-something-year-old gentleman. He stood nearly six feet tall and was wearing a finely cut, pinstriped, purple suit. His hair was blonde and pulled back into a long, neatly trimmed ponytail. Adorning his head was a matching fedora with a black, satin hat band. His eyes and nose were obscured by a loose-fitting matching purple mask and his facial hair was carefully manicured into a fine mustache and small soul patch of a beard.
“I don’t believe that we have ever met Mr--?”
“My friends simply call me the head man in charge.”
Doctor D’Alleva found it to be a rather odd name but wasn’t about to insult his unknown visitor and possible benefactor. He simply shrugged and addressed the man accordingly.
“Well, Mr. ‘Head Man in Charge’, how can I be of service to you at this rather late hour? Office hours are from eight to five Monday through Friday so, we are typically closed at this time.”
The finely dressed man glanced down at his right wrist and rolled up his sleeve to expose a gold and diamond encrusted Rolex. The gentleman shrugged and politely motioned for him to join him at the desk. Vincent seemed happy to oblige and as the pair walked over, his guest seated himself in Vincent’s high back leather chair behind his desk.
“Hey! That’s my..." His voice drifted off. "chair.”
The stranger completely ignored his outburst and smiled while making himself comfortable. After a few tense moments, Vincent reluctantly took the seat directly across from him on the opposite side of his desk.
“Now, Doctor D’Alleva, I think the time is right to discuss the topic of your world famous plant food.
“What’s to discuss? I’m ruined! The government has forced me to stop producing it, and--- they’ve banned the sale of it nationwide! They claim it contains way too many harmful chemicals that are unsafe for the environment.”
As the doctor began to explain his dire situation, the Headman simply held up his hand dismissing his response.
“Rubbish! What if I could get the government to approve the sale of your products once more?”
He let the question hang in the air for a brief moment. The doctor’s facial features started to show renewed signs of hope at this proclamation.
“You could do that?” His eyes opened widely as he posed the query.
“I sir can do many things. For a price of course.”
Vincent suddenly felt trepidation. As much as he tried to exude confidence, the tremble in his voice clearly betrayed him, dripping with his fear and uncertainty as he stammered a response.
“I...I can’t afford to take out another loan.”
“Who said anything about a loan? I help you, and when the time comes, you help me. It’s that simple.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch Vincent. You’re a brilliant botanist and biochemist and me--Let’s just say my business involves some rather exotic plants. If you catch my drift.”
The doctor pondered the stranger’s choice of words for a moment and then sheepishly responded in a half-questioning/ half-stating fashion.
“Are you referring to marijuana and poppies?”
“One might say that. So? Do we have an agreement, or not? I didn’t come all this way to waste my time and breath. I was told that you were a reasonable and educated man.”
The well-dressed gentleman leaned back in his chair, putting both of his feet which were adorned in imported Italian leather, up on the desk. He then produced what appeared to be an expensive, Cuban cigar from an inside coat pocket. From his outside jacket pocket, he retrieved an engraved, gold cigarette lighter encrusted with multiple diamond accents. The engraving read D.H.M., which the astute doctor took a mental note of. The mysterious man lit his cigar and then slipped the shiny object back into his jacket pocket. Puffing on his cigar, he began to inhale the green, intoxicating fumes. Doctor D’Alleva contemplated the offer for a moment and then extended his hand indicating that he wanted to shake on the deal.
“Well alrighty then.” Noticing his extended hand. “But first join me by having a little of this.”
He passed the strange smelling cigar to Vincent in order for him to partake in a full drag. “Give me a couple days to make the necessary phone calls, and I’ll have you be back in business within a month. No one will be bothering you with any of these ridiculous, mandatory, ecological regulations. Your fertilizer will be back on the shelves of the top five Lawn and Garden chains, and then you and I can get down to some more important business.”
Letting his last words trail off, he took back his cigar and after taking a deep drag, exhaled a large plume of the thick, green smoke into the biochemist’s face. Vincent coughed a little, but then reached for the home rolled cigar again. This time, he took in the sweet and intoxicating fumes more deeply. Feelings of deep euphoria began to slowly overtake him, as more of the smoke from the exotic herbs filled his lungs and began to saturate his bloodstream.
They continued passing the joint between them for at least another ten minutes before the Headman finally offered his hand, which Vincent readily gripped and shook.
“Get some rest Doctor D’Alleva. I’ll be in touch soon, and for God’s sake put your belt back on! You have a business to run after all.”
The well-dressed man then got up from the desk, tipped his hat and let himself out of the office. Vincent continued to recline in his chair as the lingering plumes of smoke continued to creep into his lungs and permeate his mind. He felt overly relaxed and acknowledged that it had been far too long since he had felt this way. He glanced once more at the clock on the wall. The whole encounter took less than thirty minutes, but so much had transpired. Vincent turned his gaze upon the couch in the corner of the room that had served as his bed on more than one occasion as of late. Getting up from his chair, he felt a bit light-headed but comfortable as he once again secured the locks on his office door. He then crossed the room gathering up a pillow and a blanket from amongst the pile of items previously removed from his closet. He unhooked his belt from the closet rod, placing it on top of the pile of clothing removed from the closet. Turning to once again close the door, he then made up the couch, lay down and tried to sleep. He knew that morning was fast approaching, and that he needed to get some much-needed rest. As he stared up at the ceiling tiles, he questioned himself aloud.
“Did I really just strike up a deal with a possible drug lord? Is that even possible? What was I thinking? Oh well. Desperate times make for strange bedfellows.”
As his mind continued to swirl due to the combined effects of the drugs and his renewed lease on life, eventually the beginnings of slumber crept in. He was still seeing stars as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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