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xp_logsWarren (the Younger) discusses the latest Worthington Industries business deals with his father, prompting Worthington Senior to reveal his true colours.
There was no going around it. Since Jean's revelation the night before, Warren had done nothing but think, plan and research. If he knew his father -- and apparently he didn't -- there was no way the older man would reveal anything unless Warren showed he had some knowledge. It was that way his entire life. Warren Jr. would sit idly by and wait until Warren III attempted something before being told it was done inefficiently. It wouldn't be until Warren III came up with a good plan, and showed he'd put some thought into it, that Warren Jr. would congratulate him.
With that in mind, Warren III breezed into his father's office, bypassing the secretary and assistant. His father was on the phone, but that didn't bother him. Plunking himself down on the chair in front, he leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee. And then he waited until his father finally hung up the phone.
He jumped right into it. "Why are you running the Biotech project? Shouldn't that have come to me? You keep sending me to these tech conferences, I thought it was so that I could take over that sector."
Warren Worthington Jr. raised an eyebrow at his son. "I'm sorry?" His voice was calm and quiet, with just the slightest bit of inquisitiveness in his tone. "The Biotech project?" The eyebrows narrowed, confused. "Why shouldn't I run it, son? I feel like you have enough on your plate right now."
"And you don't?" Warren fiddled with his tie, trying to show an air of boredom. "It just doesn't seem your style. It's a money sucker, not a money maker." He paused for a bit. "What's your angle?" He didn't allow his father a chance to speak before he continued. "Is it the security piece? That seems the most promising of the work, but Trask has a lot of ideas that frankly, I think are a bit beyond him."
The eyebrow shot upwards again. "Money suckers? Angles? Trask? You're asking a lot of questions all at once, son. Are you alright?" Worthington Jr. looked concerned.
The younger Warren simply rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm simply curious, and no one seems to be giving me any answers, which is why I came right to you. You're the boss, you know everything" A smile tugged on his face. "Perhaps I'm not supposed to know things, is that it," he teased. "Scared that I'll take over?"
A little disappointed that his son was keeping up the charade, the older Worthington kept his face stoic. He pulled a cigarette out of his desk drawer, well aware that he wasn't supposed to smoke in the building but craving one nonetheless. "Not in the least. And I'm sorry you feel like you're not getting answers. Of course you're supposed to... know things, as you put it." He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, all in one fluid motion. "But why Biotech, son? I mean... you've never gotten out of sorts like this about any of our other acquisitions. Are you sure you're alright?"
His dad never made anything easy. "It's a new venture," Warren said smoothly. "We've only ever invested in sure things, and this whole biometric business...well, it's a little outside the comfort level of the company. Besides that, we have veto power. I thought the whole aim of our acquisitions is to try to 'maintain the integrity of the original business'." He used airquotes with his fingers, happily throwing his father's own words back at him. "Why would we want ultimate control over eye scan technology?"
"Business evolves, son," Worthington Senior answered, still sounding confused as to what his son was getting at. "It must. You know that. Eye scan technology is already being used on some computer systems. It's going to be everywhere soon. Best to get in on the ground floor, no?"
It was like pulling teeth, and Warren was ready to pull his hair out. Fine. There went all his careful preparation. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"
"Make what easy, son?" There. Maybe they could finally stop playing this game.
"I know the truth about Biotech." It couldn't get any blunter than that. Adjusting himself in his seat, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "But what I don't know is what your role is in it or why you didn't tell me anything. I thought you respected me enough to share information. I'm hurt".
He tilted his head, a smile still on his face through what he hoped was a friendly banter.
"If you know the truth," Worthington Senior replied calmly, taking another long drag on his cigarette, "then we can stop playing this silly game. You don't actually need me to share information with you, do you? Because you've already read the information."
Warren had no idea how his father knew. He tried quickly to think of what to say without giving anything away. He was determined to keep Jean out of the conversation. "True, but what's words on paper when I can hear it from the man himself? It made for an interesting read, I'll give you that, but I'm still not convinced it's the best investment. Enlighten me, Father."
"I'd actually appreciate some enlightenment from you, Warren," his father responded, still the picture of calm as he ashed his cigarette in the glass tray on his desk and rearranged some papers. "Perhaps you can enlighten me as to what makes you think your input is necessary in the matter of Biotech. Is this some sort of coup? You don't trust my judgment with Biotech? You don't trust me to run this company anymore? Is that it?"
Now Warren didn't bother to hide his annoyance. Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "And here I thought Mother was the one with the flair for dramatics. It's a simple question, and you hedging the answers hardly inspires confidence. I'd rather not go behind your back, which is why I'm speaking to you. But we can play it however you'd like."
Warren Senior took another drag on his cigarette. "And here I thought the fact that you read the files meant you had all the answers already, son. How exactly are you wanting to `play it?' What would you want me to 'enlighten' you about? You've already seen the files. You know about the Sentinel project being in the production phase, the work Trask is doing. It's good work, son. I'm sorry, but I still do not understand what you seem so upset about."
So it was true. His father knowingly was working on anti-mutant measures and from the tone of his voice, he seemed proud. Warren felt his insides twist but he kept a cool front. "Maybe I don't see how killing off customers of any kind is good business. Where's the bottom line? You sell this kind of tech,and there's little improvements or upgrades to see."
"Killing customers? I'm afraid I don't understand at all." Looking concerned now, Worthington Senior stubbed out his cigarette and narrowed his eyes at his son. "Are you talking about mutants?"
Warren spoke slowly, confused at his father's reaction. "Well, if science is right, at least 25% of the population are mutants and as far as I'm aware, they have money too, so....yes, I am talking about mutants."
"Well, now who's being dramatic? Son, this work is for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Espionage Logistics Directive," Worthington Senior informed his son calmly, though he knew full well that since Warren had read the files, he would already know this. "Sentinels disrupt mutant abilities. They incapacitate mutants. For protection. For this country's protection. I won't have you sensationalizing the work that Trask and Mister Stryker are doing with all this talk about taking... mutant money away from us."
Stryker? Now that was a name he wasn't familiar with. "I had no idea you had such proclivities, Father. Imagine that. And who is this Stryker? Does he sit on the board?"
Oh, so World War Three didn't know everything. That was nice to know. Worthington Senior sifted through more papers on his desk, trying hard to look quite busy and important. "No, Stryker is an independent contractor. Perhaps you should break into more files, son. Your information is lacking. Now, is there anything else I can help you with this evening, or is it alright with you if I get back to my work?"
That was his cue. "I suppose what that actually means is I should get back to work myself." He slapped his hands on his knees and got up. Three got as far as the door before he stopped and turned.
"One more question, since we're on the topic. Do we have any mutants in our family?". His tone matched his father's when saying that word.
Senior pondered the question for a moment, face still distressingly calm. "Not to my knowledge. But if we did, I would hope that the company could come up with a way to help them. That's one reason I'm in support of Biotech and the Sentinel program, son. I hope you can understand that. It really is what's best for everyone. Mutants and normal people."
Normal people.
Warren nodded his head slowly, absorbing the information from his father. It was all he could do to not throw up right then and there. He plastered a smile on his face. "Sounds like you have everything under control then. If you need any help though, remember: I'm your man."
There was no going around it. Since Jean's revelation the night before, Warren had done nothing but think, plan and research. If he knew his father -- and apparently he didn't -- there was no way the older man would reveal anything unless Warren showed he had some knowledge. It was that way his entire life. Warren Jr. would sit idly by and wait until Warren III attempted something before being told it was done inefficiently. It wouldn't be until Warren III came up with a good plan, and showed he'd put some thought into it, that Warren Jr. would congratulate him.
With that in mind, Warren III breezed into his father's office, bypassing the secretary and assistant. His father was on the phone, but that didn't bother him. Plunking himself down on the chair in front, he leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee. And then he waited until his father finally hung up the phone.
He jumped right into it. "Why are you running the Biotech project? Shouldn't that have come to me? You keep sending me to these tech conferences, I thought it was so that I could take over that sector."
Warren Worthington Jr. raised an eyebrow at his son. "I'm sorry?" His voice was calm and quiet, with just the slightest bit of inquisitiveness in his tone. "The Biotech project?" The eyebrows narrowed, confused. "Why shouldn't I run it, son? I feel like you have enough on your plate right now."
"And you don't?" Warren fiddled with his tie, trying to show an air of boredom. "It just doesn't seem your style. It's a money sucker, not a money maker." He paused for a bit. "What's your angle?" He didn't allow his father a chance to speak before he continued. "Is it the security piece? That seems the most promising of the work, but Trask has a lot of ideas that frankly, I think are a bit beyond him."
The eyebrow shot upwards again. "Money suckers? Angles? Trask? You're asking a lot of questions all at once, son. Are you alright?" Worthington Jr. looked concerned.
The younger Warren simply rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm simply curious, and no one seems to be giving me any answers, which is why I came right to you. You're the boss, you know everything" A smile tugged on his face. "Perhaps I'm not supposed to know things, is that it," he teased. "Scared that I'll take over?"
A little disappointed that his son was keeping up the charade, the older Worthington kept his face stoic. He pulled a cigarette out of his desk drawer, well aware that he wasn't supposed to smoke in the building but craving one nonetheless. "Not in the least. And I'm sorry you feel like you're not getting answers. Of course you're supposed to... know things, as you put it." He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, all in one fluid motion. "But why Biotech, son? I mean... you've never gotten out of sorts like this about any of our other acquisitions. Are you sure you're alright?"
His dad never made anything easy. "It's a new venture," Warren said smoothly. "We've only ever invested in sure things, and this whole biometric business...well, it's a little outside the comfort level of the company. Besides that, we have veto power. I thought the whole aim of our acquisitions is to try to 'maintain the integrity of the original business'." He used airquotes with his fingers, happily throwing his father's own words back at him. "Why would we want ultimate control over eye scan technology?"
"Business evolves, son," Worthington Senior answered, still sounding confused as to what his son was getting at. "It must. You know that. Eye scan technology is already being used on some computer systems. It's going to be everywhere soon. Best to get in on the ground floor, no?"
It was like pulling teeth, and Warren was ready to pull his hair out. Fine. There went all his careful preparation. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"
"Make what easy, son?" There. Maybe they could finally stop playing this game.
"I know the truth about Biotech." It couldn't get any blunter than that. Adjusting himself in his seat, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "But what I don't know is what your role is in it or why you didn't tell me anything. I thought you respected me enough to share information. I'm hurt".
He tilted his head, a smile still on his face through what he hoped was a friendly banter.
"If you know the truth," Worthington Senior replied calmly, taking another long drag on his cigarette, "then we can stop playing this silly game. You don't actually need me to share information with you, do you? Because you've already read the information."
Warren had no idea how his father knew. He tried quickly to think of what to say without giving anything away. He was determined to keep Jean out of the conversation. "True, but what's words on paper when I can hear it from the man himself? It made for an interesting read, I'll give you that, but I'm still not convinced it's the best investment. Enlighten me, Father."
"I'd actually appreciate some enlightenment from you, Warren," his father responded, still the picture of calm as he ashed his cigarette in the glass tray on his desk and rearranged some papers. "Perhaps you can enlighten me as to what makes you think your input is necessary in the matter of Biotech. Is this some sort of coup? You don't trust my judgment with Biotech? You don't trust me to run this company anymore? Is that it?"
Now Warren didn't bother to hide his annoyance. Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "And here I thought Mother was the one with the flair for dramatics. It's a simple question, and you hedging the answers hardly inspires confidence. I'd rather not go behind your back, which is why I'm speaking to you. But we can play it however you'd like."
Warren Senior took another drag on his cigarette. "And here I thought the fact that you read the files meant you had all the answers already, son. How exactly are you wanting to `play it?' What would you want me to 'enlighten' you about? You've already seen the files. You know about the Sentinel project being in the production phase, the work Trask is doing. It's good work, son. I'm sorry, but I still do not understand what you seem so upset about."
So it was true. His father knowingly was working on anti-mutant measures and from the tone of his voice, he seemed proud. Warren felt his insides twist but he kept a cool front. "Maybe I don't see how killing off customers of any kind is good business. Where's the bottom line? You sell this kind of tech,and there's little improvements or upgrades to see."
"Killing customers? I'm afraid I don't understand at all." Looking concerned now, Worthington Senior stubbed out his cigarette and narrowed his eyes at his son. "Are you talking about mutants?"
Warren spoke slowly, confused at his father's reaction. "Well, if science is right, at least 25% of the population are mutants and as far as I'm aware, they have money too, so....yes, I am talking about mutants."
"Well, now who's being dramatic? Son, this work is for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Espionage Logistics Directive," Worthington Senior informed his son calmly, though he knew full well that since Warren had read the files, he would already know this. "Sentinels disrupt mutant abilities. They incapacitate mutants. For protection. For this country's protection. I won't have you sensationalizing the work that Trask and Mister Stryker are doing with all this talk about taking... mutant money away from us."
Stryker? Now that was a name he wasn't familiar with. "I had no idea you had such proclivities, Father. Imagine that. And who is this Stryker? Does he sit on the board?"
Oh, so World War Three didn't know everything. That was nice to know. Worthington Senior sifted through more papers on his desk, trying hard to look quite busy and important. "No, Stryker is an independent contractor. Perhaps you should break into more files, son. Your information is lacking. Now, is there anything else I can help you with this evening, or is it alright with you if I get back to my work?"
That was his cue. "I suppose what that actually means is I should get back to work myself." He slapped his hands on his knees and got up. Three got as far as the door before he stopped and turned.
"One more question, since we're on the topic. Do we have any mutants in our family?". His tone matched his father's when saying that word.
Senior pondered the question for a moment, face still distressingly calm. "Not to my knowledge. But if we did, I would hope that the company could come up with a way to help them. That's one reason I'm in support of Biotech and the Sentinel program, son. I hope you can understand that. It really is what's best for everyone. Mutants and normal people."
Normal people.
Warren nodded his head slowly, absorbing the information from his father. It was all he could do to not throw up right then and there. He plastered a smile on his face. "Sounds like you have everything under control then. If you need any help though, remember: I'm your man."
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