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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's Duty - 22. Chapter 22

Revision 2025


 


 

The drive to work the next day allowed him an opportunity to reflect as he wound his way directly towards his office. Andrew hadn't come home after the wedding and Will had collected the keys to his Jeep from the valet and had driven home alone at the end of the reception. After the madness of the last few days, returning to the normal routine did not appeal to him. But life went on, and so did he.

Jeff and Lisa were probably in Niagara for their honeymoon, Lisa's father's wedding gift to them. The newlyweds were embarking on their new lives together in style. Jared was at work by now down on Bank Street, crunching numbers and quaking in fear after Kerry had so nimbly caught the bouquet. There were only so many excuses Jared could have to dodge that bullet, and Kerry had caught wedding fever. Will gave them a couple of months before she arranged a shotgun wedding.

Jeff's parents were due to leave that afternoon, and Will regretted not having another day to see them off. He would miss Mrs. Sternosti's cooking, and more importantly her coffee. There was a definite thrill to having people in his house and in his life. His home was usually so quiet, sedate, but the last few days it had resonated with life. He would miss that the most.

At least Brody was staying for a few more days. He had business in Ottawa (or so he claimed). It still bothered Will that no one really knew what Brody did, or where his money came from. But then who really needed to know. Brody was who he was. He had been sitting out on the terrace with Delia Anders at the end of the evening, the two smoking cigarettes and talking abut nothing. Will found it odd; Brody had been seen seducing all three bridesmaids as well as Maria and had Delia eating out of the palm of his hand, but had chosen to leave the party alone. Some times figuring Brody out was impossible. He was just one of those people who defied definition.

But that was the point; they were all like that in their own ways. You couldn't pin a label on any of them and expect them to perform exactly as they were supposed to. They were human beings and they could change; wasn't it the capacity for change that made them alive? Will himself had been called upon to change over the last few days. He wasn't content just to ride on the coattails of the status quo. How could he when everything around him changed? He had to grow up some time; it might as well be now.

He rolled down the window of his Jeep and turned up the music, they were playing one of Delia Anders' songs on the Bear and it warmed him with memories of the night before. Of Lisa and Jeff cutting the wedding cake. Of Brody's dance with Maria...or Andrew under the stars telling him that he loved him. He smiled as he slipped on his sunglasses and settled back to enjoy the drive. It was Thursday morning; his office building loomed ahead and work called.

The lack of sleep left him with a thumping headache. But at least he had managed to get a couple of hours. His body was coiled tighter than a spring and his shoulders ached from stress. He'd take a few days off, maybe. Give himself a chance to recover, go somewhere to rest.

But for a few more minutes at least he could pretend the world waited for a small group of friends who had grown up together and supported each other when they needed it.

He swept the Jeep into the parking lot and grabbed his jacket from the back seat, stopping only a moment to look up at the red brick building that he worked in, back to real life.

He walked through the double doors and into the call centre, noting that he was early; the agents were lurking about the cafeteria and the coffee maker talking among themselves. A few saw him and the friendly "Good Morning Mister Carter," met his passage. He enjoyed their warmth and returned a few of the hello's as he made a steady passage to his office.

He hesitated as he noticed Alicia already at her desk, an ashen look on her face. He stopped and set his briefcase down on the edge of her desk and looked at her in concern. He had seen that look before when her mother had passed away. It was a look of terrible loss.

She continued to talk on the phone, taking notes as she looked up at him with saddened eyes. She reached out and scribbled a note on the edge of her pad of paper as she glanced towards the far office where Scott Anderson undoubtedly lurked.

"Watch your back," Will read. His eyes flicked up to meet hers and then over to Anderson's office. A cold feeling spread through him as he steeled himself. Something was wrong and he was a day out of touch with what had happened. He bit his lip as he considered his possible avenues for finding out what was going on. He needed to be prepared.

Will collected his briefcase and walked into his office, and stopped dead.

It was empty.

The wall charts had been erased. His files were gone. Even the diary with his appointments in it was gone. It was like someone had reached in and torn the soul out of the room. Anything that had distinguished it as his office was gone, leaving it barren. But when he glanced back to see Alicia staring after him with tears in her eyes, and he looked back at his desk, pieces began to fall together.

He set his briefcase and coat down on the desk as he walked out of the office, passing Brad who headed to cut him off.

"Scott is looking for you..." Brad said softly.

Will looked at the supervisor who struggled to keep his face devoid of emotion and he nodded. "I am just on my way to find him."

Brad nodded and glanced towards the doors that led to manager country, "They are in the board room." He smiled tightly, "Good luck bud."

Will stared at the two large black doors and back at Brad. "Cheers, mate."

He took a deep breath as he punched in the access code to let him through the doors and stepped through to the corporate side.

It was like he stepped from night into day. Where the call centre was tattered and threadbare, the corporate office was plush, almost luxurious. Here the paint was fresh and the chairs were real leather. There were no outdated motivational posters or dead fluorescent lights. Here was where the money went when it came in for the children. He felt uncomfortable almost immediately; he hated the corporate side of the business, and the politics that flowed almost as readily as the lies they told their customers. Here the rules were different, and the stakes of the game were much higher.

He climbed the stairs and entered the main lobby and rested a hand on the reception desk. The receptionist was a pretty little thing who had been promoted from the sales floor at just about the same time as Will had started working for the company. She had a reputation for having earned her position the hard way.

"Hello, Mandy," he said calmly. "Where are they?"

She looked up at him and feigned ignorance to who he was; she looked down at her appointment book, "Who are you looking for, Mister Carter?"

He arched an eyebrow, "Mister Anderson is expecting me." Now was hardly the time for him to be treated like a stranger. He felt his irritation getting the better of him and he made a concerted effort to calm himself.

Mandy flipped through her book, "Just have a seat, Mister Carter, and I will see if they are ready for you yet."

She got out of her seat and knocked gently on the door to the boardroom, which she slipped through a few moments later. Will caught sight of a number of senior management, including the regional manager. So much for this being simple.

He straightened his tie and was glad that he had decided to wear a freshly-pressed shirt that morning. It wasn't every day a human resource manager of an insignificant call centre was summoned before senior management. At least he would have the dignity of being well-dressed for what was to come.

She returned, "They aren't ready for you yet, Mister Carter. Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?"

Will frowned, "Yes," he murmured as he stared in puzzlement at the boardroom.

He had waited for hours. He sat in the comfortable seat and stared out of the lobby windows at the main street and counted coloured cars. He would have appreciated some decent reading material and the only thing on hand was the company's quarterly report. He wasn't in the mood for fiction.

He supposed it was to be expected that he would be kept waiting. He was a minor functionary in the corporate structure. One of the lowest managers they had out of twenty odd offices across North America. Charity was big business, and these men and women had no time for him. Why then was he summoned to their presence?

He blew out a sigh of frustration and looked at his watch; he had work to do, or should have work to do. But if they wanted to pay him just to sit there and drink coffee...

At least it was good coffee, fresh and piping hot. He could taste the fine grade of the Colombian roast. It was definitely better than the swill they served to the employees downstairs who earned them the money so that they could buy it in the first place. Ironic, really; capitalism the best scam the world ever conceived. Not that communism was much better; on the scale of scams it ranked a close second.

He gave a mental shrug and went back to watching the street; if they wanted to talk to him as badly as they seemed to, he just had to sit patiently and wait. Perhaps their goal was to make him impatient, restless, and nervous. A person in that frame of mind would usually panic... make a mistake. Well, they were dealing with him now, and he wasn't about to fall into whatever trap had been laid for him.

He tried to work through the chain of events that could possibly have led to him being seated there. It couldn't have been the fact he had taken the day off the day before. He had paperwork signed to show he was authorized to be away, and industrial tribunal would agree with him that was no cause for dismissal...

He chewed on that thought for a moment; Scott had threatened him the morning before. But that was about commitment to the firm, and if he was to be fired for a `lack of commitment,' that wouldn't take the board of directors three hours of meetings to decide.

There was his objection to the termination of all those agents. But that wasn't an official objection, he had complied with Scott's instructions. He had hated signing the pink slips, but he had still done as he had been told. Scott couldn't throw that at him, not with any kind of justification. Again it wasn't a matter for the board of directors to meet over.

No, he surmised, there was something more important happening, he could smell it in the air. He had a right to be worried, there was a serious edge to what was unfolding. The demonstration of chaos theory Brody had given the night before worried Will. One simple action had led to a chain of seemingly random events that had culminated in the exact result Brody had set out for. He had a feeling that he was now caught in an example that was more complex. There were balls and levers moving so rapidly that he had missed them. And this time Brody wasn't there to explain what was happened.

The doors finally opened and Scott Anderson walked out of the boardroom. He spared a glance at Will, a look that spoke volumes. There was concern there, but not for Will's well-being, it was a look of self-preservation, a look of cold calculation on the part of a man who was worried for himself. A look that attempted to gauge what way a leaf would fall. A look that gave Will a certain amount of reassurance. It wasn't his neck on the line.

He stood up and nodded to Scott as he looked at the director who waved him into the boardroom. He squared his shoulders, a knight rising from his vigil to do battle once again. He smiled softly as he stepped up to the challenge. He entered the room and found himself standing before them like a man on trial. He regarded each of them emotionlessly, now came the moment of truth.

"Mister William Carter?" The CEO of the firm inquired looking up from his yellow legal pad of notes, "You're the HR manager from downstairs?"

Will inclined his head, "That is correct."

"Is this your signature?" The Director of human resources lifted a stack of signed termination slips.

Will frowned, "Yes, that is my signature. What is this about?"

The board exchanged uncomfortable looks with each other; the CEO spoke slowly and deliberately, "Mister Carter does it make sound business sense to lay off thirty-five people in a single day?"

Will shook his head, "Absolutely not, sir."

"So why did you fire that many people on Tuesday?" the HR director asked sternly.

"I was instructed by my manager Scott Anderson to remove agents that were not producing sales." Will became uneasy, "I was given a list of people to terminate and I complied with my instructions."

The board exchanged another look and a couple exchanged low whispers; the CEO looked puzzled, "The operations Manager, Scott Anderson, states that he had no knowledge of the termination order. He claims you acted without his instruction."

Will went cold. "That son of a bitch," he said softly.

"I beg your pardon?" the CEO asked as his head snapped up.

Will looked him straight in the eye, "That is an outright lie, sir. I received clear instructions from Scott Anderson as to what I was supposed to do. Brad Gilmour can attest to that, sir. He even added to my list."

The CEO blew out a sigh, "Look son, I have to deal with the fact that one of my call centres is now down nearly a fifth of its salesmen. I have an operations manager who claims you acted without his knowledge and I have a stack of thirty-five termination orders with your signature on them. You know how this looks, Mister Carter?"

Will looked down at the termination orders and then back up at the CEO, "On Tuesday, just before lunch Mister Anderson called me into the cafeteria to tell me he had a plan. He then took me out onto the sales floor and instructed me to select people, and I am quoting here, `that did not belong'. I did as I was told and I selected ten individuals." He clasped his hands behind his back tightly, "Mister Anderson proceeded to add more names to that list and when I returned to my office Mister Gilmour had added a further series of names to that list. I had been instructed to get rid of them before the end of the working day and I did my job."

"Your job, Mister Carter," the Director of HR stated coldly, "was to staff the call centre, not to lay off a large amount of its work force. How many absentees do you have on the average day?"

Will did a quick mental check, "Usually around forty."

"So add that to the lay offs," the CEO tapped his pen on the tabletop, "and I have a call centre operating at less than half capacity."

Will set his shoulders, "An aggressive recruitment campaign, my department can have those seats filled..."

"You're not going to get that chance, Mister Carter," the CEO said bluntly. "I can't take the risk that you did this without authorization. So I have decided to restructure the Ottawa Call centre."

"And what does that mean for me?" Will asked, and he waited for the hammer to fall.

“You have stand out skills,” The CEO remarked. “You're also an English citizen if I am not mistaken.” he checked his notes and nodded. “In fact by most accounts your work has been... exemplary. It hasn't gone unnoticed by the board. Most of the people here started work on the ground levels. We're a major international Charity organization a call center seems to be a waste of your talents.” he shuffled through his papers. “Andreson is a problem that will be dealt with, everything downstairs will have to be rebuilt to fix his incompetence. And I can appreciate when someone is trying to throw another person under a bus just to save his own skin. But this mess is going to tarnish everyone down there and I feel that would be... a waste.”

He pulled out another sheet of papers. Your sales records when you were on the phones at the start of your employment broke records. You seem to be under utilized, so rather than have you tarnished by this I think we can all agree you have the potential to earn us a lot more money if we placed you somewhere else.” The older man looked over the rims of his glasses. “You will be joining the international commercial team in an entry level executive capacity. Your pay scale will be commencerate with the posting, and given your proven sales ability and meticulous data management I am sure with your sales ability a commission salary structure will be satisfactory..."

Will looked down at the table as he contemplated the ramifications of the transfer, "Forgive me if I am wrong, but isn't our corporate sales division based out of London, England?"

The CEO nodded his head, "We will cover your relocation expenses, Mister Carter, but we're in the middle of launching a major campaign and the person you will be replacing has left us in a bind by leaving. If you say yes, you are to report to our London office tomorrow.”

Will stared at them, “What?”

“It's a choice,” the CEO said. “You either go, or you will be terminated. Because your job downstairs no longer exists.”

Copyright © 2011 Christopher Patrick Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 3/27/2018 at 6:41 PM, Graeme said:

Well, now we know what happened. Scott made a bad call and threw Will under the bus when he was called on it. Will told senior management his story, but it's his word against Scott's unless Brad backs him up. I don't see that happening...

Or its all some other weird Brody scam?  I agree none of this makes any sense,  even by call-centres-are-awful-standards

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On 1/20/2014 at 4:53 PM, Miles Long said:

I'm not as familiar with Canadian employment laws but this is another situation that stretches the limits of believability, no one working for a call center gets less than 24 hour notice to move to another county let alone another country. Phony donations are not matters of national security, or public policy.

 

Some good points, it was probably one of the weakest points in the book. I was approaching it more from an International Charity Organization but can see how I failed to express that in the text. I think I have fixed it now, to tighten that rather frayed story thread.

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I’ve worked in an incoming call centre for a major US investment fund and the word ruthless certainly applied. But when a friend added a zero to a deal selling 12.5 million dollars instead of $1.5m, it was the call center director who was escorted out and not the dealer.   Top dog’s view: anyone can make a typo error, where was the security against such errors going through.   

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