Mark Abernethy - Second Strike

Mac nodded, and Grant cleared his throat. ‘And I suppose we’ve agreed that we’d like to have a chat about your services, Mr Davis, with a view to… umm… bearing in mind…’

‘We have to move quickly,’ said Vitogiannis, leaping in with certainty but not arrogance. ‘These deals are like vapour – you think it’s all go, and then poof -‘ he opened his hands as he widened his eyes,

‘it’s gone. Up here the game moves fast.’

Taking a long draught on the coffee, Mac thought about what he was going to say. He wanted to keep the discussion away from the sensitivity of the uranium-enrichment code, or even the secret provisions of the deal with NIME. The way to steer around that issue was to make the entire discussion about Mac and the money. If he could do that then Bennelong Systems might do all the hard work for him.

‘So, you’ve checked me out?’ asked Mac, friendly, nothing to hide.

‘Well, actually, Richard, that’s why we were late down here – making some calls,’ said Vitogiannis.

‘Gotta do it, guys – mad if you don’t,’ said Mac.

Vitogiannis shrugged at Grant as if to say I told you, and looked back at Mac. ‘Your accounts person was helpful about how we might initiate an agreement. It sounds like a solid set-up.’

Mac gave Terri – the accountant at the Southern Scholastic offi ce in Sydney – an inward high-fi ve. Depending on which line was used into the switchboard, it would trigger a computer screen with all the details of that operative and his commercial cover. The Davis Associates cover had been set up only recently and Terri had brought herself up to speed nice and fast, probably set Vitogiannis back on his heels with a few basic credit inquiries of her own. To most business people, a grumpy fi nancial controller was the mark of a good operation.

‘Well, Michael,’ said Mac, laughing, ‘may I start by revealing how comfortable I am with a man who starts at the most important point

– and that is how I’m going to get paid!’

Vitogiannis hooted and slapped his leg while Grant smiled, probably amazed that someone could be so forthright. It was an old spy technique: be disarmingly honest about something people were furtive about – like The Money – and people would tend towards trusting you. The Bennelong guys had the Australian Commonwealth chewing on one ear and a bunch of Indonesian businessmen on the other. They needed someone to trust.

‘So, how do we play this?’ asked Grant.

‘We decide whether I’m on retainer and expenses, or if you prefer to pay me on capital raised,’ said Mac. ‘The capital-raising rate is one and a half per cent of the agreed value of the deal, with overages of travel outside of Sydney or Canberra. Straight charge-back on hotels, cars and fl ights – no per diems. Sound fair?’

‘I like the second option,’ said Vitogiannis, looking at Grant, who was nodding back. ‘One and a half per cent is fair.’

‘And the transaction? What are we talking about here?’ asked Mac, keeping it light yet professional. ‘I mean, so I can work out if it’s worth it for me.’

‘The initial phase is a thirty-million-dollar supply contract – that’s what we wanted EFIC for,’ said Vitogiannis, measuring every word.

‘Okay,’ said Mac, pulling a bunch of papers from his document satchel, ‘let’s do the MOU and we’ll get started.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ said Vitogiannis, raising his hand. ‘This is going a bit fast, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t even know what’s required.’

Mac looked at him. ‘Michael, I made some calls this morning too, and I think I’ve found your problem, and maybe also a way through.’

Vitogiannis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. His body language said, This bloke is a hard case. He looked at Grant. ‘You hear that, Alex? Mr Davis thinks he’s found a way through.’

‘I heard,’ said Grant, glancing at his watch. ‘Let’s get to work. We have a lunch meeting with our partners and I need some good news.’

They worked out of Grant’s Horizon Club suite on the twenty-second fl oor, looking north over Jakarta and out to the Java Sea. It had its own fax machine and executive desk, so Mac sent the engagement MOU on the machine while Vitogiannis pulled out fi les and Grant fi red up a black Apple laptop.

Taking a seat in front of the desk, Mac laid it out for the Bennelong team. ‘My discussions were brief this morning, guys, but the person I spoke with basically summed it up.’

‘Yes?’ asked Grant, plugging the internet cable into the back of the machine and leaning back from the laptop.

‘You see, Alex, government loan guarantees are knocked back for basic reasons: either the customer is in a nation or market considered viable for a bank or other commercial fi nancier, so the deal doesn’t need Johnny Taxpayer reaching into his pocket.

‘Or the deal itself makes a couple of the principals very rich but has got fuck-all to do with jobs or encouraging innovation or building national competitive advantage. With me?’

‘Sure,’ said Grant, nodding, ‘but I think we qualify under those two and I believe we’re also a company with a trading track record, if that’s something else you were going to mention.’

Holding up three fi ngers, Mac smiled. ‘That’s three pluses for Bennelong. But my person – and he was risking his job just to give me this small piece – he tells me that the weak link is the end-user certifi cate.’

‘What?!’ burst out Grant, a frustrated man. ‘We make control systems for power stations and public water companies! Shit! ‘

‘You know,’ said Mac, drawing it out, ‘the candidate always thinks that the end-user certifi cate is about him. But when you think about it, it’s really about -‘

‘The end user,’ said Vitogiannis. ‘I agree, Richard – but I thought we’d provided a full dossier on NIME? Certainly everything we had.’

Mac put his fi ngers into cathedral position, pushed his nose into the gap. ‘My guy tells me that there’s worries about the – what did you call it?’

‘NIME,’ said Vitogiannis. ‘It’s an acronym, in Bahasa. Basically means something like national electricity consortium of Indonesia.’

‘Yeah, that’s it, NIME,’ Mac continued. ‘He says the principals look like rent-a-directors – you know, fronts, accountants, lawyers. Faces to put on the prospectus. But they have nothing to do with the equity.’

Vitogiannis nodded, swapped a look with Grant. ‘Okay, so…?’

Mac decided to pull back. ‘Look, guys, it’s not my deal, I know nothing about this. But if we have an NIA logjam around an end-user certifi cate, then either you tell me who these people are so I can resell it, or the minister’s own people are going to be in his ear about these people, right?’

‘Yeah,’ said Grant. ‘It’s perhaps not so simple.’

‘Okay,’ said Mac. ‘The other part of the end-user certifi cate is something to do with defence? Nuclear research?’ said Mac, shrugging at Grant, asking him to take it from there.

‘Okay, that makes sense,’ said Grant, relieved not to have to talk about NIME. ‘When we did the buy-out from Betnell, fi fteen years ago, we inherited algorithms for uranium enrichment, for their Type-3 reactors. The management buy-out was for the control systems, but when it came to settlement they had listed these algorithms in the acquisition manifest. Our real aim was to get the naval C and C systems and the public utility control systems, but we got this bonus that, frankly, has turned into a curse.’

‘You knew what they were?’

‘Only in the broadest sense – they’re part of the control systems for a Type-3 reactor which is not even built anymore. I have no idea how valuable they are. I only know they still work because a few years ago I had a visit from CSIRO,’ said Grant, referring to the Commonwealth’s peak science body. ‘But I always suspected they were ASIO because they asked more about my new partner, Michael, and our future plans than they did about the algorithms.’