Read The Labyrinth Campaign Online

Authors: J. Michael Sweeney

Tags: #Fiction, #General

The Labyrinth Campaign (3 page)

BOOK: The Labyrinth Campaign
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The couple entered the restaurant. It was like stepping into a bistro in Paris: wine bar on the right, small, intimate dining room on the left. Mark, the manager, greeted Jack with a hearty handshake and Carrie with a hug.

Mark said, “I’ll do my best, but it’s probably going to be a half an hour.”

“No problem, man,” Jack responded. “We’ll be at the bar.” They found two seats at the end of the five-seat bar and settled in. When their drinks came, Carrie proposed a toast. “To the night of the black belt.”

Jack responded with, “To winning GenSquare.”

They both smiled and drank. When Mark wandered by, Jack told him that they had decided to eat at the bar. After they ordered, a discussion regarding GenSquare began.

“If we win the account, Allen is going to assign you as managing partner,” Carrie said.

“I know. And normally I’d view a new account of this size the same way I’d view a prison sentence. But this one’s different,” Jack confided. “First of all, I think their vision for a new software delivery system is brilliant. And, while I’m not overly political, the opportunity to work with the Hawkins family and the chance to meet Senator Will Hawkins is intriguing.”

“Really? What’s so intriguing about a rich, playboy, third-generation Democrat who bought his way into the Senate?”

Jack laughed. “Boy, aren’t our Republican feathers ruffled!”

“No, really, Jack. What’s so intriguing about Will Hawkins?”

Jack launched into a five-minute monologue. He told Carrie in detail about the night in college when he lost his best friend, Charlie, and told her how on that fateful night, his views on drugs and all things environmental were forever established. Carrie had never seen passion like this from Jack. But at that moment, she felt connected to him. In fact, she realized she was in love with him.

When they went back to Jack’s place that evening, they made passionate love. They had celebrated their successes together; they had shared intimate details of their lives with each other, and their feelings for each other were cemented. They knew this relationship was something very deep and very special.

four

T
he next morning Jack and Carrie drove into the office together. Though they hadn’t gotten much sleep, they were energized by the feelings that had grown between them last night, as well as the challenge of the GenSquare pitch ahead of them. As they pulled into the parking lot of the opulent building that housed WPC corporate headquarters, it felt like any other workday. But it was Saturday, and there were few cars in the parking lot.

On rare occasions like this, Jack felt amazed that he had made it this far in the world of advertising. It hadn’t been his career choice until his senior year of college. Prior to that, he had majored in football, beer, and girls—not necessarily in that order. Now he was on the team that would be pitching the single largest account in Texas advertising history. And if they won, he’d be running the account.

As the elevator doors opened, Carrie and Jack entered the posh lobby of WPC. Hardwood floors, a magnificent reception desk, leather furniture, and a wall of creative awards communicated that WPC was a force in the world of advertising. When they entered the boardroom at 8:10, the rest of the new-business team was already assembled.

“Glad you two decided you could make it,” Allen Hamilton, the CEO, remarked.

“Sorry we’re late,” Jack responded, immediately knowing he’d just stuck his foot in his mouth. By implying that he and Carrie had arrived together, all previous efforts to hide their relationship had just been nullified. Carrie let out a nervous laugh as they took their seats at opposite ends of the massive boardroom table.

Allen spoke authoritatively. “Let’s get started. As you all know, it’s down to us and the Daniels Group for the biggest win in our agency’s history. I want this account more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. Each of you must understand that the next few weeks are going to be grueling. This room will be our war room; we’re going to live here. We will spare no expense. We are going to win the GenSquare Software account.”

As Hamilton, the youngest agency president in Dallas history, gazed around the room, the best and brightest his agency had to offer were nodding in affirmation: Cindy Noble, chief creative officer, with twenty years of experience on Madison Avenue; Scott Parks, senior vice president for strategic planning—and company clown; Sharon Campbell, senior vice president of digital marketing and media; and Carrie and Jack. This was the team he had assembled to take on the monumental task of landing the GenSquare account.

Hamilton continued, “Not only is GenSquare the biggest opportunity in WPC history, but who knows what other doors a win with the Hawkins family might open.” With that, Allen began the new-business briefing. GenSquare was the next generation of computer software, he told them. A customer would not actually purchase a software application and install it on a computer, nor would a company purchase multiple copies of a specific software application and install it on multiple machines in the same organization. Instead, GenSquare Software had identified an entirely new delivery system using existing network technology.

“Beginning next month, with significant Wall Street fanfare and capital, GenSquare will begin delivery of both proprietary and existing software to customers using previously installed broadband cable systems,” Hamilton said. “Customers will pay a monthly access fee as well
as usage charges. This has analysts predicting a revolution in the software industry.

“That, ladies and gentlemen, is the concept in a nutshell. We’ve been waiting for a new-business opportunity like this for ten years. And I’ll be damned—no, let me rephrase that—we’ll be damned if we’re going to let this big fucking fish off the hook. Any questions?”

As the intensity of the moment settled in, no one said a word.

“Hey, don’t go quiet on me now,” Hamilton said. “This is the chance we’ve wanted for years. Reel this one in, and our futures and the future of our organization are set. You guys get what this means, right?”

As if a winning goal had just been scored, the room erupted in a loud exchange of yells, whistles, and high fives. When the noise subsided, Allen asked again, “So now, are there any questions?”

For the next ninety minutes the group discussed the strategic possibilities offered by such a distinct point of difference in the software industry. The conceptual juices that were flowing this Saturday morning would be the envy of any other advertising agency in America, Hamilton thought as he watched his team work. He had once again proven why WPC, under his guidance, had become one of the most successful agency resources in the US. He smiled to himself as he watched this talented group feed off each other and generate idea after idea.

Jack McCarthy hadn’t felt this type of adrenaline rush since college football—the chance to impact the marketing world on a global scale, and the chance to work with the family of the front-runner for the next presidency of the United States.

five

T
he Hawkins family mansion in the upscale Dallas neighborhood of Highland Park was one of the most opulent compounds in all of Texas. The main house was over 35,000 square feet, with a pool and guesthouse that added another 7,000 square feet. The main house fronted Beverly Drive, one of the most desired residential streets in the city. With a formal dining room that seated thirty-six, a kitchen that rivaled most fine restaurants, and a parlor that was larger than the average American home, the Hawkins estate was designed and built for high-class entertaining.

On this Saturday evening, however, there were no parties. In the family library—its collection the envy of many small colleges—Sen. William S. “Will” Hawkins and his father, William “Bo” Hawkins, were discussing the initial stages of Will’s announcement of his intention to seek the Democratic nomination for president of the United States.

Some pundits thought the family’s political affiliation odd, since most Texans with the wealth and stature of the Hawkins family were prominent, active members of the Republican Party. But not Bo and his family. He considered the Hawkins clan “true Texans” who had been loyal Democrats since long before the reign of Lyndon B. Johnson.

“Will, it’s time to identify the key players who will help us get you elected,” Bo Hawkins said to his son. “I’m dead set on John Rollins as your chief of staff. He’s been our lead banker for twenty-five years, and he’s extremely loyal to the family.”

“What about Metroplex Bank? Will they release him from the presidency?”

“I’m sure the board of directors would be happy to let him go if we promise our account loyalty in his absence. We are the single largest account Metroplex has, after all. I also think it’s time to find our key strategist.”

Will cringed at the way his father continuously talked about his campaign with words like “we,” “our,” and “us,” but his father’s strength and imposing presence precluded him from speaking his mind—as they had for as long as Will could remember.

“Dad, Pete Robinson is my chief strategist. We’ve been friends since our undergrad days at college, and I know I can trust him.”

“Pete’s great, and we’ll retain him, but he’s been in politics his entire career,” Bo said. “We need a marketer, someone who understands the motivations and mind-set of voters. Someone who treats you like a product, and voters like consumers.”

Will kept his thoughts to himself. They ultimately agreed that Pete Robinson would work hand in hand with the yet-to-be-identified “consumer expert” as costrategists on the Hawkins campaign. Will and his father would begin the search immediately.

As father and son continued their conversation, the discussion shifted from presidential campaign to family business.

“Will, the volatility of the oil business has aged me beyond my years. If our oil holdings had been invested in other vehicles, we’d be worth twice what we are today.” Bo stared out one of the library’s floor-to-ceiling windows for a few seconds. “Real estate is a necessary part of any portfolio, but I’ve always believed that once your net worth surpasses $100 million, it should not account for more than 30 percent of your holdings. The stock market has been very good to us in the past ten
years, but I hate to put someone else in control of my money. So that leads us to GenSquare.

“Will, GenSquare is my legacy to the Hawkins holdings and our family’s future. We’re having final presentations from our advertising agency finalists this week. I think it would be a good idea for you to sit in. The more you know about the guts of the family business, the better it’ll be when you take over after your presidency.”

They looked at each other and smiled.

six

D
avid Ellis sat in his Century City office gazing out at the panoramic view of the Hollywood Hills, Beverly Hills, and downtown Los Angeles. Ellis’s meteoric rise from “cause-of-the-week” lawyer to the leader of the most powerful political organization outside the two major parties had surprised even him. The Future State Foundation was only three years old, and its endorsement was already considered a necessity when seeking public office. Senators, congressmen, and presidential hopefuls were already calling, hoping for endorsement from David and the foundation in next year’s election.

The foundation was a unique liberal organization. Its focus was on the need for economic evolution, elimination of national debt, enhancement of the Social Security system, and, most importantly in Ellis’s mind and those of his members, the need for an ecological revolution. Ellis contended that ecological dangers had never been greater. Nuclear proliferation and the corresponding waste due to expansion in the Middle East, North Korea, and China were a reality. Industrial pollution was increasing due to reductions in government oversight, especially in developing nations. “Dirty” power development was on the rise because power companies remained too profit-conscious to invest in alternative
power research and development, and government engineers were just too bureaucratic to try anything new or controversial.

David Ellis and his Future State Foundation were capitalizing on these circumstances. The organization, with its highly efficient infrastructure, was recruiting new members at a staggering rate. Within months, the foundation membership would exceed the numbers generated by the NRA and the Christian Coalition combined.

Ellis was quickly becoming quite the celebrity. His emotionally charged speeches warning of the apocalyptic consequences associated with ignoring our economy and environment were universally admired. Many believed the US had not seen oratory skills of this magnitude since the 1960s with John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King. David Ellis was on the “mountain top” and, while publicly disdainful of the attention, was actually quite enjoying it. First-class air travel, five-star hotels, press attention that politicians would die for, and women throwing themselves at him like he was a rock star. Yes, he was enjoying himself and doing it all on his own terms.

A knock on the door yanked David from his daydream. Skip Richards, his best friend, right-hand man, and confidant, was standing in the doorway.

Skip asked, “Did I interrupt your next revelation?”

“As a matter of fact, you did. I was just contemplating the therapeutic powers of the high life our newfound success has provided.” Both laughed.

“David, it looks like Will Hawkins is going to run for the Democratic nomination.”

“Yeah, not that we haven’t been expecting it.”

“Do you think he’ll call?”

“No doubt in my mind,” David quickly responded.

“But the Hawkins family fortune may allow them to cut some corners, and one of those corners might be us,” Skip said.

“Never. We’re too easy. Will Hawkins’s views and our views are synonymous. He was fighting the ecological and economic battles long
before the foundation existed. He’ll claim that we adopted his beliefs and policies, not vice versa. And he would be right.”

“What are you saying?” Skip asked.

“I’m saying this is all part of the plan. It’s no secret to anyone that Will Hawkins has been groomed for the presidency since childhood. I just took our platform and tweaked it to complement his platform, and voilà: we trade foundation endorsement for a cabinet post if he’s elected.”

BOOK: The Labyrinth Campaign
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