Carter's Fortress - 6. Chapter 6

It was starting to get cold; Will had a pair of gloves on as he walked around the construction site keeping pace with the chief of staff for Public Works. John Hackett was a veteran of the civil service. He'd put in his time with various backbenchers, working his way up through the ranks until he had been assigned as the 'fix it' man to the Office of Public Works.

The reason the department needed a man like Hackett was the man walking beside Robert Avery wearing a hard hat and laughing a bit too enthusiastically. The honorable Samuel Boucher, Minister of Public Works and one of the few men, by sheer miracle, to survive the latest election. The miracle took the form of a heart attack, three days before the polls opened, that claimed the person he was running against.

Boucher was loud, arrogant, and behind closed doors, widely perceived as totally incompetent. But he had the Prime Minister's ear, and had been the only choice for Cabinet from the slim pickings of a minority government. Now the Liberals held a majority by only a single seat, the Prime Minister wasn't about to risk having one of his ministers cross the floor because he'd lost a cabinet spot.

Will rubbed his temple, adjusting the hard hat on his head as he picked his way across the mud and sludge of the rain-soaked construction site; the two chiefs were a little ways behind the ministers and Lisa. Will knew that Hackett was doing it purposefully so they could talk.

" Yours seems on the ball," Hackett said with a motion of his head.

Will glanced to Robert who was examining some blue prints and gesturing about the site, "The Minister's had a bit of experience on construction projects," Will replied. "He knows what to look for."

Hackett seemed to digest that information with a frown, "I envy you that; I have a former high school gym coach that got lucky in an election." He smiled, "Well, we can't all be lucky."

Will shrugged, sidestepping to avoid a truck as it rumbled its way towards the road carrying more freshly dug soil to be carted away from the site. "So," Will said, wishing he could find a cup of coffee to help keep him warm, "what's the story behind this place?" He glanced behind him up at the Gardiner Parkway and beyond it the City of Toronto with its skyscrapers, noise and congestion.

Hackett smiled, "It's a legacy project; the last government voted for it, it had the backing of the NDP party and it passed." He slipped a little on the mud and Will reached out to steady him, "Mainly on the grounds that it promised to redevelop the waterfront." Hackett gestured about him at the decrepit state of the area around them, the rundown buildings that were being demolished.

"They've been wanting to do that for years," Will mused, shivering at the remoteness of where they were. "So that was the plan. Now what happened?"

Hackett licked his lips and sighed, "Unexpected expenses, budget mismanagement and a couple of contractors that weren't prepared to handle a project of this scale. It ended running a little over budget."

"A little?" Will said cynically. "It's already twice the original estimate and..." he glanced around him, "unless I am very much mistaken, we're not exactly done."

Hackett gritted his teeth, "As I told the press the other day, we had to reorganize the schedule but the project will be completed well ahead of opening day."

"How much more is it going to cost?" Will asked seriously, glancing at the two ministers. Boucher was laughing and trying to convince a JCB backhoe operator to let him operate the machine. Wisely, the operator was having none of it.

Robert cast a glance back towards Will and shook his head; Will shrugged as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jacket and looked at Hackett expectantly.

"I can have a revised budget to your department by the end of the week," Hackett said, his dark eyes watching Will carefully. "We're already committed to this project. The Prime Minister expects this to be the crown jewel of his new tourism plan."

Will shrugged, "That maybe true, John, but is throwing more money at the problem really going to solve the issues here?" He reached into his briefcase and pulled out some projections, "I was looking into some alternate proposals for the site, something less grandiose that we can do that won't end up costing the taxpayers another five hundred million."

Hackett took the sheets and flipped through them, tsking as he handed them back. "You can submit them to the committee for approval, but I doubt they'd be considered before work starts. In order to cut costs we awarded the contract to Gravano construction." Hackett pointed to a large gaudy sign stating proudly to the world that this was another project brought to you by Emillio Gravano.

Gravano was a rising star on Canada's most eligible bachelors list. Will had seen his face on the cover of MacLean magazine a few months before, and had read the feature article that told about the thirty-year-old man who had inherited the Gravano Construction Company after his father had passed away from a stroke earlier that year. He was a man who could get things done, for a price.

Will tucked the proposals back into his briefcase, "Well then, if we're stuck, we're stuck. The question remains how do we spin this so that the press don't eat us alive for Canada's biggest white elephant?"

Hackett looked unimpressed, "I see you share the conservative view of this project."

Will blinked at the rebuke, "I'm sorry, I didn't say that." He frowned, "I am saying that I wish to know what my communications director is supposed to tell the press when they come to her asking why the government is sinking money into a project that has yet to show any signs of actual progress."

"Listen to me, son," Hackett was angry, and his voice seethed with raw emotion. "We have a lot invested in this project, unless you want your communication director telling the public that the Prime Minister and his government was shortsighted in this project, I'd suggest you have her say 'everything's progressing well.'"

Will looked at Hackett and realized the older man was deadly serious, and he digested that. Was it a threat? Or a dare for him to do something? He wasn't certain, but the body language of the man clearly said that he was going to stand firm. Will studied those hard eyes with their weathered creases and knew that Hackett was threatening him.

"Right," Will said, turning and starting back to rejoin the other two ministers, "I see where we stand."

"Just remember that," Hackett called out after him. "Arrogant young..." he murmured loud enough for Will to hear him.

Will shook his head as he walked up beside Robert, who was still shaking his head in disbelief at Boucher's antics with the backhoe. "I don't believe this," Robert murmured. "How is this man still in public office?"

Lisa shrugged and looked at Will.

"A lot of luck," Will murmured, touching Robert's arm. "Minister, I think we should go."

Robert glanced at Will, searching his eyes and nodded, "Alright, William, I take it that it is serious?"

Will nodded as the two of them started back to the black Lincoln that had brought them to the site from the airport. Once they were back into the car, and Robert had issued orders to the driver, he settled back to look at Will.

"Alright, Mister Carter, what's going on?" Robert asked seriously.

Will shifted in the front seat and looked back at them, "I just had an interesting conversation with John Hackett."

"Oh?" Robert grunted. "I hope he was more informative than Boucher was. I swear the man has the mentality of a five-year-old and the education to match."

Lisa tried not to chuckle, "He wanted to ride the tractor."

Will rolled his eyes, "Yes, well. Our dear friend Mister Hackett seems to feel that everything is well in hand. Not because everything is sorted out, but rather that this project will have all the money it needs to buy its way out of the hole that 'tractor' is digging."

"Hmm," Robert murmured, angling his head to look at the massive construction zone. "If this was my company I wouldn't tolerate this."

"Indeed," Will replied. "In fact, Mister Hackett went as far as to tell me that we should toe the party line on this one, or risk pissing off the PM."

"Odd," Robert said looking over at Lisa. "I'd think the Prime Minister would appreciate an objective assessment of this situation. Is the project really in that much trouble, Will?"

Will looked thoughtful and shrugged, "It's a tough choice; we can cut our losses and abandon the project and essentially write off the five hundred million that was spent already, or we keep going in the hopes the project, when opened, was worth all the money."

Lisa stopped smiling, "Excuse me, but weren't the original cost projections balanced against the revenue projections after the exhibition opens?"

"They were," Will replied, fishing out the appropriate file from his brief case. "But they look... meager compared to the current cost of this project."

"Damn," Robert said loudly. "Well, our best bet is to increase those revenue numbers. Can we pull some strings and see about making this more of an attraction?"

"You mean amusements and the like?" Lisa asked thoughtfully.

"Not just that," Robert stated. "This facility will have a large concert area, perhaps we could lease it out as an alternate concert venue, book it up and recoup some of the losses that way?"

Will sat back around in his seat; the exhibition was supposed to be a permanent attraction. But everything had a shelf life, sooner or later it would lose its appeal and people would stop coming. Now, if they had a reason to be there anyway, the concerts could be used to promote the rest of the attractions. "I'll have someone start making phone calls; if we tell Public Works to have the concert area completed first, and open it early, we can set it up to showcase the brand new facility and give people their money's worth."

"At the same time putting some money back into the project." Lisa smiled, "That's a good idea.

"It should appease the critics," Robert said with a smile. "I am glad I have both of you with me on this. What's next on the agenda?"

Lisa pulled out her palm pilot, "We have a press conference for the multicultural conference, as well as meetings with your constituents."

"Right, we should get on then," Robert surmised.

Will for his part fell silent, staring back out of the window at the dark and empty shell of what would become the jewel of the tourism industry. It stood like a monument mocking Canadian intuition and innovation. An embarrassment to the people it was supposed to symbolize.