The Spider Agenda

By Travis Barr

When young mother, Erin Belaski begins her new employment at the Pearson and Paul corporation, she unwittingly walks into a hellish world of deadly competition between business rivals and disposable pawns--such as herself! After her brother, Dean, exposes Pear-Paul for the soulless corporate sharks that they truly are, Erin and he rush home to find that their parents are missing...as well as Erin's precious baby girl, Jessica. A phone call interrupts their search...it's the minions of Pear-Paul and they want their anonymity and company strength kept intact. If Erin and Dean don't do exactly what they're told, then Pear-Paul's top man, Stanford Jordan will make their family suffer and perish. Dean must erase his investigation of the deviled company, and Erin must deliver a lethal package to the sworn enemies of the company, the honorable execs at Ellison and Bauer Financiers. But that is only the tip of the spider leg as a creature of unnatural power and intelligence will prove even more deadly and frightening for the nearly mind-shattered Erin...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Travis Barr
• Release date: May 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310218095

Travis Barr

Travis Barr grew up in Southern California and went to CalState University of Long Beach. He graduated with a BA in film then furthered his education with a teaching credential. Travis has always held a fascination with the fantastical and suspenseful in storytelling. With his second novel and first part of The Chosen Trilogy, "The Spider Agenda," he has taken that wonderment to new levels of gripping tension and spellbinding adventure. "Agenda" sets the scene for what is to come in the second installment, "The Wasp Initiative" and is the seeds for which will come to full climactic fruition in the third tale, "The Hornet Operative." Travis still lives in the California area with his family and good friends, and enjoys the beaches of his youth. His favorite TV programs include "The Walking Dead," "Falling Skies," and "The Strain." His most cherished novels of all time include Peter Straub's classic tale, "Ghost Story," Bill Blatty's "The Exorcist," and Stephen King's "'Salem's Lot." His favorite film will always be George Lucas' "Star Wars."

Book preview

THE SPIDER AGENDA

By

Travis Barr

SMASHWORDS EDITION

PUBLISHED BY:

Travis Barr on Smashwords

The Spider Agenda

Copyright © 2014 by Travis Barr

McNab turned off the car engine and got out to leisurely stroll the walkway to his massive front doors. He inserted his key into the knob, opened one of his doors, and stepped inside. He had at most five seconds to type in the correct security code to his safety alarm before it tripped a hideously loud alarm and alerted the police. So before he even closed the door, he immediately went for the wall keypad located on the adjacent wall to his right.

And in that moment, a bulbous, eight-legged nightmare entered behind him from the top of the gaping doorway. Noiselessly, it adhered to the walling above the doors and quickly made its way to the ceiling structure. Once there it skittered upside-down and further into the vast room. Again it made no sound. It was clear the intruder did not want to make its presence known just yet. It succeeded for McNab, by this point, was focused solely on entering the last digit of the code.

The intruder, the thing was huge and unnatural. And as the oblivious man turned to close the door and rearm the security system, the creature had already worked its way into another room and out of sight.

The carefree McNab had only three hours left before he would be completely bloodless.

Chapter 1

She looks like a damned supermodel, thought Erin Belaski as she sat patiently awaiting her time to be called. The executive assistant sat behind her desk and focused her attention down towards writing something that Erin couldn’t see. Even at twenty-six, Erin still held strong remnants of childhood curiosity and, though she was trying hard not to, kept stealing glances at the perfectly-formed employee. She was one of millions actually who toiled for the revered, worldwide conglomerate known as Pearson & Paul Industries. The assistant swerved her head around quickly to observe her computer screen and must have read a message from her boss because—

He’s ready for you now, the stunner announced as she switched her gaze from the luminous screen to Erin.

Oh, thanks, Erin answered, collecting herself enough to stand and walk. She smiled briefly at the woman and the woman smiled back—only for an instant—then returned her eyes back to her writing.

Erin made a beeline straight toward an office door that read in black letters:

Stanford Jordan

Divisional Chief Executive of Operations

You’re okay, she consoled herself to calm her nerves. This is just an interview, you’ve had them before. If it doesn’t work out, you still have your filing job at Beatty Inc. It doesn’t pay as much as this job would, but it’s still better than living on food stamps for you and your precious one-year-old to scrounge over…or worse.

So relax and remain composed, she thought as she reached the door and put her right hand to its knob for turning.

Before doing so, she drew in a silent yet stuttering breath, let it out in the same jittery fashion…

…And opened the door.

****

Please come on in, Stanford Jordan said with his inviting smile. He had risen his slender and well-dressed frame to swoop around his desk and approach Erin. As he did, he gradually rose his hand to eventually shake hers. He gave her a few gentle but firm pumps as he said, Erin? Stanford. Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you, she managed as they separated hands.

Thanks for coming in, please have a seat. He motioned for her to seat herself in the office chair facing his desk.

Oh sure, thanks. She sat while he returned to behind the desk to do the same.

He studied her for an instant. These things are nerve-racking, aren’t they? Interviews?

A quivering smile escaped her. Oh…maybe just a little.

A soothing grin formed his lips. "Well I hope you can relax, I really try to be informal about these things. Example: I’m not going to ask you about your qualifications, they’re already laid out in your resume, of course, so I’m well aware. What I would like to do is get an impression of your personality. But, before that, what I want to do is give you an overview of the company’s persona—unless you’ve already done that through the net…"

Oh, uh, nothing too extensive—I checked out the official site so I know what businesses you’re involved in. In fact, one of the companies you own, Pink Cloud, I buy their baby supplies all the time.

"Oh, you have a little one, that’s terrific—or little ones?"

Just the one.

Boy or girl?

Girl. She’s one, her name’s Jessie.

Handful at that age, I’m guessing.

Oh yeah. But she’s great; just started walking.

Excellent, coming right along then… He smiled in joviality. And kept it to a certain extent as he launched into, "Well, let me tell you a little about the history of Pearson and Paul. Started up in 1908 as a simple cigar rolling outfit—and yet as simple as it was, it still out-rolled and outsold the competition in those days. And thanks to the revenue of that business, Dick Pearson—Paul Wurts wasn’t in the picture just yet—managed to add a railroad construction business to his holdings. Then from there, own the railway trains of Morton & Co. themselves. Twenty years later, Pearson holdings merged with Wurtz’s corporations in a massive attempt to stave off the great market crash of that time.

"And thus, time and perseverance saw Pear-Paul—as we call it for short around here—became one of the most wide-reaching global industries to date. And we’re still expanding. In fact we’ve just dipped our hands into the real estate business, which looks to be quite promising despite the recent market difficulties."

Wow, really? she inquired with a measure of skeptical trepidation. She knew how bad the market was in that respect.

Oh yes, we’re quite excited about it, in fact. Yeah, Toleto and Sons will be our first acquisition and we’ll likely branch from there—

Oh, my goodness, you’re kidding me? They’re the ones handling the sale of my grandmother’s cabin out in Cantor.

No kidding, have they sold it yet?

She wrinkled her nose a bit. Mm, no, not yet. Which is still a bit of a surprise even though the buyer’s market is super grim at the moment. It’s such beautiful property, secluded and quiet and everything.

Cantor Woods, huh? Yes, that it is a bit surprising…hm…well, you know, our corporate structure is looking for new spots for its retreats. It might be possible once the merger happens that we could simply buy up the land and hopefully give your grandmother what she’s expecting for it.

Ah, unfortunately she passed last year, so…

"Oh, so that’s why it’s being sold then."

Right, she concurred and nodded with pursed lips.

The family will get the proceeds then?

M-hm.

Well, I’m sorry to hear about her passing, how old was she?

Ninety-two. But you wouldn’t have known it to look at her or hear her talk. She was always a spitfire, you know?

Mm, some of the best people I know are like that. You two were close?

Immediately, her mind answered: that’s an understatement if ever there was one.

Erin’s grandmother, Esther Thomas—or Grandy Thomas as Erin and her brother, Dean, always knew her—was indeed very close with Erin. They had spent many summers together in Grandy’s cabin; playing, watching movies, hiking, and putting on little shows with whatever dolls Erin’s youth provided. Erin loved that Grandy was always present for her and didn’t stick her in a room to play while she toiled away at crossword puzzles. The visits were alive with activities they both enjoyed together. And Grandy was always one of Erin’s closest confidants—her true girlfriend with which she could reveal secrets and confusions. And not be scolded or judged…well, not most times anyway.

She was the second mother to Erin, her home away from home. She was a love like no other to her.

Oh sure, she responded to his personal query, practically betraying none of the emotion she felt for her Grandy—or the loss of her only nine months past. At least Grandy had gotten to know Jess…if only for a brief period of time.

As if sensing that the subject might be too uncomfortable, Stanford switched gears with, "You know, their spirits always carry on. And I can tell that just by meeting and talking with you for the small time that we have." He smiled warmly.

As did she in return. Well, thank you.

"Sure…Well listen, I can’t tell you how the position will be filled just now; we still have a few candidates to come in this afternoon. But I can tell you that I have a good feeling here and I do see you being one of the top prospects."

Oh, thanks, thank you.

So judging how it goes later on today, we’ll either call you tonight or tomorrow. Sound good?

Good, okay.

It was better than she expected.

Beyond getting hired on the spot, anyway.

Chapter 2

Foster was waiting.

And the president of western operations for Pearson and Paul, Warren Foster, wasn’t keen on the waiting game.

And were it any other employee than Stanford, Foster might have been contemplating a slow murder. But the seasoned veteran—now sixty-two and sporting the thinning strands of white across his scalp—of Pearson and Paul was also quite conscious of the fact that a crucial task was being completed. That the delay was completely justified…and that Stanford would not keep him waiting any more than was absolutely necessary.

And true to this claim, Stanford entered the dimly-lit conference room and quickly proceeded to take his assigned seat at the conference table. As he did, Foster asked, Stan, my boy, how did it go with our new recruit?

As he properly positioned himself for sitting, Stanford confidently replied, Quite good. I think she will fit our needs perfectly.

And you’ll be notifying her tonight then?

Yes.

"Excellent. Well," Foster began, looking about the room at the slightly shadowed faces lining the conference table: the department heads including Oliver Stance, Security Chief, Phillip Jenner, Sales Veep, among others. And now Stanford completed the crew. Foster continued, shall we begin?

Phillip announced, This meeting is officially now in session.

And instantly after, Stanford pressed a finger forth to the table, pouncing with, We have blight on our stability, gentlemen.

We have several blights, Foster reminded.

Yes, but this one I strongly feel we must deal with immediately.

Phillip concurred most adamantly, I agree with Stanford, Woodland and McNab must be cut off at the neck.

Yeah, Stanford added, and its body rendered unrecognizable.

Foster flipped up his open-palmed hands in a hold it gesture. I understand the urgency of this matter, believe me…but to take action now so close to our new objective could possibly bring negative attention to our stockholders in the likes which we haven’t seen.

Can’t we just hold off on that until things are met and dealt with on Wood-Nab? After things have died down.

"We cannot. I promised our revered CEO that this would be rectified with the utmost expediency. He’s simply tired of knowing that these people are out there, and can expose us for what we really are. He wants it done now.

Phillip put in, So we do both and hunker down. What are the feds really going to do us? Call in an audit?

If they do, Phillip, Foster warned, then you’ll be the one to personally deal with it.

Fine. Better to have someone frisk my shirt than to lose it altogether.

Foster blinked a few bats of his eyes then pursed his thin lips. "…You are correct on that front, I’ll give you that…but Wood-Nab must be handled delicately…Oliver, Stanford? I’m sure you must have a few ideas…"

Stanford spoke up first. "I recommend we go with Janice. She did perform well on her second assignment."

Oliver, however, shot with, Yet her first was an almost unmitigated disaster. She almost got caught.

She wasn’t fully grown and developed then. We know that now. But I think she’s learned her lessons from that particular incident, honed her skills. She’s still my recommendation.

With trepidation, Oliver glanced away. Okay…

Oh, why don’t you two book a room already, Foster quipped with a leer of annoyance. Murmuring laughter made its way around the table. Stan, Phil, I imagine since you are both in agreeance on this that you have planned out this strike. So you better tell me something that makes sense.

Janice, Stanford initiated, will strike at McNab, who we all know here is the true heart and mind of the company, at his home while he sleeps. Some of you may not know at this point that he is divorced now and lives alone.

Once McNab is out of the picture, Phillip added, Woodland will be looked to in taking the reigns. He might be able to finesse the stockholders for a short time—he is a PR genius after all—but without McNab’s much needed input, the company will founder within a few months’ time.

"But won’t end the company," another executive countered.

"No, but it will cause them to scramble, to redirect their efforts to finding another corporate crack-shot as gifted as McNab. In that time, we will acquire the necessary businesses—Toleto, Burman, Trasker, and so forth. We will gain the edge. And then Wood-Nab will truly have to scramble—and scrounge."

Okay, when is this going to happen? Foster wanted to know. The sooner the better.

Well we were thinking of tonight, actually.

"Oh were you now?" Foster asked the two conspirators, a small smirk of condescension formed his face.

Back-pedaling a bit, Philip offered, With your official say-so, of course.

Go ahead, Foster allowed, but then shot a finger at Stanford. But if Janice mucks this up—

She won’t, was Stanford’s immediate and solid assurance.

Foster then retracted his arm and flicked his eyes about the room. Okay, what’s next?

****

McNab drove his sedan through the mansion-framed streets of his highbrowed neighborhood. Calmly, he navigated the quiet road toward his own mansion close by. He drove this route serenely because he, himself, was serene. Secure in the knowledge that things were supremely going his way in the company’s global interests. The coming mergers, the acquisitions, hostile takeovers—however you wanted to phrase them—were finally going to happen after months—hell, years—of financially positioning themselves to move in for the kill. Although the expansions to Woodland and McNab were not done deals at this point, things were looking very close to the fact. Promises and certain exchanges of good faith were firmly in play. He peripherally challenged himself that he shouldn’t be so glib about the matter, but he had been under the pressure cooker for months now—and nothing looked