Dire Straits Read Online Free Page B

discuss with them in detail. As you know, although I’m presenting TLM to you, I am largely a technical-business guy, so one of the principle reasons I’m here is to evaluate your technical units to determine if there’s a good technical match between our two companies. To that end, as we arranged before, I hope we can spend a significant period of time touring your facilities and meeting your technical personnel.”
    It was at this gambit that Benita, glancing nervously at Osorio, began to hedge. Coro translated: “I understand, Dr. Hamill, your interest in CBC’s manufacturing facilities. You do, of course, understand that many of our technologies are …” A nervous pause while Benita met Osorio’s gaze, who spoke up to say, “Proprietary.”
    “I understand,” Derek said. “However, I don’t see how we could continue much further without at least showing me some of your facilities and seeing your manufacturing processes. It’s why TLM wants this relationship, after all.”
    “Of course,” Osorio interjected. “After lunch I’m sure we can begin a tour. In the meantime, I believe Señor Manuel has a presentation.”
    Derek leaned forward and spoke directly to Arlo Benita. “I’m sorry. I thought Señor Osorio was my liaison.”
    Benita twitched. Osorio, his oily voice losing a bit of its smoothness, said, “I’m sorry I didn’t make my role clear, Doctor Hamill. I am an advisor to the executives.”
    “Legal? Technical?”
    Osorio smiled. “Legal and governmental.”
    “But you do appreciate that although I am interested in the business relationship with CBC, I’m here to perform technical due diligence, as well as to set things up for further discussions. Surely, your government would approve of a distribution deal of this potential magnitude with Canada and TLM’s other partners worldwide.”
    “Of course, of course. But Señor Manuel will continue with his presentation.”
    And so it went. They ate a pleasant lunch where Derek primarily talked baseball, the Toronto Blue Jays, and boats—Benita owned a cabin cruiser he docked at the Marina Hemingway. Finally Osorio, Coro, and Manuel led him on a tour, starting with the vaccine research laboratories in Building 1. Derek noted the building’s security—a barcode reader that read the badge, a uniformed and security guard sitting behind a desk just inside the door. Both surmountable, if it should be necessary.
    But he was most interested in a building deeper in the complex. Toward the end of the day, having only seen two buildings—but interviewed dozens of people—he had pointed to a more utilitarian building. Concrete, very few windows, a more complicated entrance that suggested higher levels of security. “What’s that building?”
    Manuel, a short, thin man with receding black hair and thick glasses, a beak of a nose and a carefully groomed and greased mustache he seemed very proud of, hesitated before saying, “A vaccine manufacturing facility.”
    “I’d like to see it.”
    “Perhaps tomorrow,” Osorio said. “I believe it’s time to go.”
    Derek shook hands and was escorted out of the complex. Coro was very quiet. Osorio, dropping him off at the hotel, said, “Tomorrow morning, Doctor Hamill. Have a good night.”
    Coro looked up, as if remembering that she had a job to do. “Dinner?”
    “I’m really tired tonight,” Derek said with a smile. “I think I’ll just have something light here at the hotel, write up a draft of my report, and get some sleep.”
    She looked almost relieved. Osorio didn’t look pleased, however. They said their goodbyes and Derek went in, bypassing going up to his room and instead went to the hotel bar, set his briefcase down beside him and ordered a beer. The bartender was a blonde woman in her twenties.
    He said, “There was a bartender here yesterday. I think her name was María. When does she come on duty?”
    The young woman’s eyes grew round and she glanced nervously around. Shaking