Chapter 165 – Golden Opportunity
131 0 1
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

As it turned out, the tainted Nuke at the Whiteview processing plant and the missing shipment in Sanders Point had no connection to the Controllers, Psydeath, or the Devils of Evil whatsoever. Indeed, they were both the result of preventable human error.

At Whiteview, a handful of underqualified acolytes working without proper oversight were put in charge of processing powder mass containing Controller hormones intended for research purposes. They unwittingly introduced small quantities of toxic, undiluted drug residue into the environment by leaving it to dry in an unventilated area where workers came and went freely.

At Sanders Point, the critical massive rush order containing hundreds of thousands of doses of Nuke was lost due to the negligence of an understaffed and overworked transport team. At the end of a grueling double shift that lasted until four in the morning, the workers forgot to lock the front door of the distribution center before heading home. The drugs were stolen by a group of young thieves who ended up selling their haul to a street gang on the other side of the city.

The two incidents were unrelated, but they shared a root cause: the Chosen Ones were terribly lacking in qualified personnel. Employees at all levels of seniority and expertise were being forced to shoulder far more than their fair share, resulting in subpar performance that endangered not only the organization's success but also the lives of its customers and employees.

The executives were as quick as they always were to point fingers and shift blame, but Miss Planner knew what had to be done. She understood that this was the opportunity of a lifetime to fix a serious systemic problem and set the Chosen Ones up for decades of success going forward.

As soon as she knew all the facts, Miss Planner took charge. She made sure the truth got out and rallied her fellow managers around her like a conquering queen. A few of the big shots resisted, but they didn't stand a chance against the unstoppable blonde bulldozer. She went straight to the Elders, explained the necessity of new policies and practices, made promises, offered concessions, cajoled, threatened, bribed, bullied, and begged, and, ultimately, she got her way.

The Chosen hierarchy was completely restructured to include a large complement of support staff at every level. Miss Planner's research division had been using a similar model for over a year to great success, and she was confident it would work just as well everywhere else. It was the beginning of a new era for the Chosen Ones: the Age of the Assistant.

To fill her new caste of managerial helpers, Miss Planner went through the list of Chosen-affiliated gang members and freelancers and hired any and all of them who were qualified and willing to work hard. Most were eager to make the switch from high-risk, low-pay street hustling to a secure and stable career behind a desk where they could smoke all the top-quality Nuke they wanted. Many were unhappy with their unsavory new colleagues, but the Chosen Ones’ staffing shortage had gotten so bad and resulted in such a horrible disaster that Miss Planner could probably get away with breaking into a prison and recruiting child murderers to work in the warehouses if she really wanted to.

For her final trick, Miss Planner took advantage of the chaos caused by the restructuring to get the sales and marketing teams on board with a risky new strategy with huge potential for profit. The Chosen Ones been making tentative steps towards luxury product differentiation for years, but she wanted to go bigger. Much, much bigger. New drug formulas, ultra-premium prices, glorious gold-foil packaging, limited-time sales events... the goal wasn't simply to earn money, it was to show the public and everyone within the Tower exactly how exclusive and special their organization really was. To get them to talk a little less about what they did and a little more about who they were. It was an ambitious plan and, quite honestly, the sort of idea she half-expected the Elders to put a stop to. The fact that they embraced it was a sign of good things to come.

Now, there was just one final step. Miss Planner needed to deliver a knockout performance to win back the trust of the Chosen rank-and-file, still scared and reeling in the wake of recent events. They'd lost confidence in the competence of management. They'd lost hope in the quality of their product. They'd lost faith in themselves, in the future, in the organization itself. But Miss Planner was going to make everything alright. Her sweet, simple Chosen Ones didn't have to worry about anything when she was there, holding them tight in her arms and leading them forward with the kind of strength no one would ever expect from her small, delicate frame.

Miss Planner stared into the bathroom mirror, examining her flawless reflection with the practiced intensity of a seasoned business professional. She gave her hair a quick brush, touched up her lipstick, and smoothed out her crisp black jacket and the skirt below it.

"How do I look, Milly?" she asked, turning sideways and posing like a perfect little lady.
Milly gave her boss a polite round of applause. "Stunning as always, ma'am! You'll knock their socks off!"

Miss Planner smiled in her usual radiant fashion. The last eight days had been stressful, but also very, very productive. She was quite proud of the fact that she hadn't wasted the opportunity to turn a loss into a win. She made it all come together.

"Thank you, Milly. I have a feeling this is going to be the best speech I've ever given!"

1