Clark Taninger sat at the head of a conference table with his assistant Caroline Davis at his side. The table was set for seven participants, with a water bottle, pad, and pen by each place. When everyone had arrived, Clark began.
"Monday, October 16, the meeting of the Taninger Enterprises Board of Directors will come to order. I thank you all for coming," he said, his tone solemn.
Clark continued, "We have in attendance the seven directors. They include the presidents of our three divisions—Irene Taninger of Taninger Entertainment, William Taninger of Taninger Sports, and Laura Taninger of Taninger News. Also joining us are the president of Longfield Investments and trustee for shareholder Kate Taninger, Erica Longfield; the legal counsel for Taninger Enterprises, Sam Quinn; and the vice president of Washington National Bank, Bert Franklin. As the chairman of the board and president of Taninger Enterprises, I will preside."
He gestured to his assistant. "Caroline Davis will record the minutes and assist us."
Clark turned his head to the sound of the door opening.
"Katie, you know you're not supposed to be here!" Clark said, scowling. "According to your grandfather's will, your shares are kept in trust until your twenty-first birthday with your trustee voting for you in the interim. You'll have to leave!"
"It's not in the will that I can't sit here, is it?" Within seconds, Kate had closed the door behind her, pulled an extra seat in the room up to the table next to her trustee, removed her jacket, sat, and opened her laptop. She was not going anywhere.
Clark huffed. He cleared his throat. He looked uneasy but determined to execute an unpleasant task.
Clark returned to his opening remarks, saying, "The reason for our meeting is to take a vote on whether Laura Taninger should be removed as president of Taninger News."
Clark eyed the grim faces around the table. He wondered why they sat where they did, as though a battle of wills were forming, with his ally and banker Bret Franklin sitting with Irene and Billie on one side of the table, and Laura, Sam Quinn, and Kate with her trustee Erica Longfield on the other side.
"Everyone should have received a folder of information that I had Caroline prepare describing our recent controversies with Laura, including the minutes of our executive management meetings and a transcript of the monologues from her show that we find objectionable. Laura and Sam Quinn also added a document to the folder that brings us up to speed on the latest developments in the investigation that's in question."
The directors nodded. They had all brought their folders and placed them on the table.
"Especially for Bert and Erica, who come from outside the company, this information was meant to brief you on the situation."
"I received the documents and read through them, Clark," said Bert Franklin. He was a banker who looked like a banker, mid-sixties with an expensive suit. His measured tone had always instilled confidence—and sometimes fear.
"Clark, I also read through everything you sent," added Erica Longfield, a handsome woman in her fifties with a serious yet kind face.
"First, those with charges against Laura will make their case," Clark continued. "Then, Laura and any other directors wishing to defend her will get their turn to speak on her behalf. Lastly, Caroline will distribute a confidential ballot and assist us with the vote-taking." He eyed the group. Everyone sat still and expressionless. "Who wants to start?"
"I will," said Irene.
Laura observed her older sister and first accuser from across the table. She and Irene had never been close. Growing up, the girls had chosen different kinds of friends, life styles, and priorities. Irene had numerous acquaintances that she calls "friends." On the other hand, Laura had a much smaller circle that included people she knew she could count on—people who were contemplative and discussed important issues and ideas. Irene barely noticed JT, whereas Laura spent a lot of time with him. Irene seemed too frivolous to Laura, and Laura seemed too serious to Irene. In the past, they had gone their separate ways, and Laura had considered Irene innocuous.
For the past two years, their business and financial interests had been intertwined by virtue of their grandfather's will. They had been thrust into dealing with each other. No longer a harmless sister, Irene had become a dangerous rival. To Laura, eyeing Irene across the conference table, her sister's long red nails looked like flesh-tearing claws. Her black outfit and stagy makeup added to her vampiric look.
Irene began, "Laura's war against Ken Martin and his signature program, SafeVote, caused Taninger Entertainment to lose the most lucrative and prestigious contract we've ever had—the Pinnacle Awards. I'd worked on that deal for months, and when it fell through, my network lost millions of dollars in sponsorships. But that isn't even the worst of it. Celebrities and public figures who are friends of the president now avoid me. I'm being excluded from their circles, whereas before I used to attend frequent parties here, in New York, and in Los Angeles. I was so popular! Everyone wanted me to attend their parties and speak at their events. Now, I'm avoided, ignored, and shunned. Laura's bias against our president has caused me public humiliation and harmed my business!"
With a fingernail tapping on the table, punctuating her words, Irene concluded, "In her obsession with SafeVote, Laura has turned Taninger News into a bash-Ken-Martin network. She says she only cares about getting at the truth in her investigation. I think the more important question is: Do we want to alienate the most powerful and influential people in our country, and what will that get us?"
Irene was at the edge of her chair, almost standing. When finished, she sank back into her seat. Billie looked at his father and raised a finger to be called on.
"Thank you, Irene," said Clark. "Billie, you're next."
The loose-tied, athletic-looking businessman sighed deeply, then began, saying, "I don't want to talk against Laura, so this isn't easy. But we're at a point where it's necessary." His voice held sadness, with no sign of anger or malice. "In a sudden move that can't be explained except as a retaliation against Laura, one of President Martin's agencies made huge trouble for us at Taninger Sports. Building Safety's eleventh-hour decision to smack a regulatory violation on us that delayed the opening of the Slammers' new stadium cost us plenty. The financial damage and the scramble to find a new venue was bad enough, but that wasn't all. The public relations hit was hell. We were demonized as a shady, greedy corporation, just out to make a quick buck and public safety be damned. That's the kind of smear campaign we've had to battle."
He looked at Laura with a fondness he couldn't hide, and the gesture brought her back to their childhood, when he was her big brother, sometimes teasing, oftentimes protective, always making her laugh.
"Even our little sister Kate has been the victim of vicious attacks that also can only be traced to retaliation against Laura," Billie said. "Kate was expelled from college, with her future in turmoil. I'm sorry, Laura, but the trouble doesn't end—it just gets worse. This can't stand!"
He looked directly at Laura, his face sincere.
Billie continued, "We need to narrow our focus, stick to day-by-day business matters, stay out of the limelight, and not try to cure all the injustices in society. Laura's crusade conflicts with the interests of the other divisions and even with her own news organization. If only she'd adopt a more balanced way to report the news, we wouldn't seem so single-minded. If only she'd avoid the shocks and scandals, as we've asked her to do repeatedly, we wouldn't be a target for her political enemies. But she won't. That's not her. Laura is Laura, and business is business. Business needs to be pragmatic and not so high-minded and idealistic." Wrapping up, he looked at his father and said, "That's my view."
"Thank you, Billie. Now, I'll add my thoughts." Clark took a sip of water, surveyed his attentive audience, and began.
"Since our company was founded by my father, Julius Taninger, times have radically changed. In his day, when JT smelled misdeeds, corruption, and wrongdoing by the people in power, he eviscerated them with impunity. The most powerful politicians in the country—up to and including the president of the United States—feared his editorials. He was quoted widely and had tremendous impact. Many hated him, smeared him, and tried to destroy him, but none could. In JT's day, the private sector enjoyed more freedom, a greater influence with the people, a higher standing in public opinion, and less control from the state.
"But now, there's significantly more control over our businesses that we have to deal with. Look at what the Martin administration can do to us! They can get their congressional allies to influence Irene's clients and sponsors by dangling the threat of new laws and taxes on their industry; they can shut down our new stadium; they can force the expulsion of our Katie from college; and now . . . " His face reddened. Veins appeared across the taut skin on his forehead. "Now, they can invoke some rule or other about monopolistic practices to literally break up our company. They can force us to spend millions of dollars defending ourselves in the courts. They can profoundly influence the media and turn public opinion against us. All the tools are in their hands—federal agencies, media competitors, and academia. We can't win."
He shook his head in despair. He rose from his seat, paced, and raised his voice to the group.
"Today, we're perceived as bad. Companies are the villains, and the government is the savior. So many people now accept this viewpoint that these perceptions become their reality." He turned to Laura and said, "Even your idol, Reed Miller, gave in. And today, he's one of the richest men in the world. So here's the choice we face: Either we compromise, engage in give-and-take, and go silent on this investigation, or Taninger Enterprises will be destroyed."
The directors listened intently. Their eyes followed Clark as he paced.
"Laura was told multiple times to drop the investigation that's giving the administration heartburn. But she has steadfastly refused."
He paused to invite an apology from Laura, but she volunteered none.
"So there's no alternative but to relieve Laura of her control of Taninger News. That's my position."
Clark sank into his chair and said, "Before we hear from Laura, does anyone else want to speak?"
Kate stood up to address the group.
"Not you!" her father scolded. "You're not a director, and your trustee has no obligation to vote according to your wishes! Erica votes for your best interest, which might not be the same as your wishes. As we well know from your recent problems at Collier, your inclinations can be self-destructive."
Kate waited for Clark's reproach to end. Then, undeterred, she said, "JT gave me equal shares with every other family member, so he must've wanted me to have my say." Her hair was tied in a pony tail that swayed with her movements, giving her a youthful look, while her poise and self-confidence suggested a formidable future executive.
"Ever since mom died when I was nine, Laura has been like a mother to me. Laura was nineteen and the closest to me in age. She was still in school and had the most time to spend with me, while Billie and Irene were already working in the company. Laura instilled in me a lot of confidence. Whenever I was facing something hard, like a challenge in sports or a subject I thought I wasn't good at in school, she boosted my spirits. She was always sure I could do whatever I set my mind to, if I worked hard at it, and she made me believe it, too. This trust in myself spilled into everything I did and into my thoughts and opinions, too. Laura taught me not to shy away from doing tough things or taking tough stands.
"My editorials in the Collier Voice were my way of standing up for what I believe. I was shocked when bullies tried to shut me down. But I was even more shocked when the school administration didn't defend me. They totally caved.
"Now bullying tactics are being used against our company. Threats, intimidation, and downright thuggish maneuvers are being used to shut us down. Are we going to throw away everything a news organization stands for in fear of those in power?
"Are we going to buckle to this? If you fire Laura, you'll be acting like Collier did when it expelled me. You'll be cowards, all of you!"
Kate sat down. The group stared at her poker-faced. Only Laura looked proud of the words Kate uttered—and the person she was.
"Anyone else?" asked Clark.
"I'd like to speak," said Sam Quinn, his baritone voice a contrast to Kate's high notes. "I was the legal counsel for JT and Taninger Enterprises for thirty years. JT was always so alive. His face was always so animated. He had an inexhaustible energy. He thrived on his work. I can tell you that to JT journalism was not just a job. It was a holy quest. JT spoke truth to power just as routinely as he brushed his teeth. That, to him, was a noble cause. The way he practiced journalism took courage and independence. He always told me, 'We don't swim with the tide.' JT was the David at whose feet many a Goliath fell.
"In the report Laura and I provided, you can see that Laura is onto something big. What could be more important than the integrity of our election process? There's fraud going on in SafeVote—with a sham contractor working in the shadows and getting a huge payment—and the administration is pulling out all the stops to prevent us from finding out what's going on! The stakes couldn't be higher."
Sam's eyes scanned the room, stopping to look directly at each one of the participants. "If we betray Taninger News—by firing its heart and soul, which is what Laura is—we won't be a news organization any more. Not according to JT's definition. We'll not only swim with the tide, we'll sink with it, too."
Sam nodded to Clark, signaling he was finished.
"Thank you. Would anyone else like to speak?" Clark paused to survey the group. No one took the offer. "Okay, Laura, it's your turn."
Laura stood and faced her accusers.
"I'm heartbroken that I'm being used as a weapon to harm our company and family," she said. "I never would want to hurt any of you or Taninger Enterprises. But I have to respond to the reasons you gave for firing me.
"First, Taninger News has various straight news programs without opinion. My show, Just the Truth, is labeled as commentary, although a lot of what I cover is straight news, before I give my opinion of it. So it's not the case that we give biased, partisan, or slanted coverage—meaning coverage not rooted in reality. We present commentary based on facts. We evaluate evidence from the standpoint that we value liberty and strive to keep government in check. This is all totally valid for a news organization to do; indeed, it's our job to do this.
"The Bureau of Fair Trade charges that what we're doing is not in the public interest. What public are we talking about? The public that doesn't want factual reporting and evidence-based opinion? What our accusers really mean is that our reporting is not in the interest of the powerful people we're criticizing. We have to call them out on that. We need to fight back!" said Laura.
She looked around the room. Most of the directors did not look eager to take on the mighty Bureau of Fair Trade.
"Next, I'll turn to the other issues raised against me," Laura said, looking at her older sister. "It can't be right, Irene, that we should make getting along with powerful and influential people a higher goal than our obligation to report and comment on the news. All of our divisions should accept the importance of this sacred trust. Our audience expects Taninger News to investigate and report on important issues, regardless of whose feathers that ruffles.
"And it can't be right, Billie, that we should shy away from moral issues and silo ourselves into day-to-day business matters. Moral issues profoundly affect our day-to-day business. We're under attack, and we have a right and an obligation to defend ourselves. We can't leave it to the academics or the clergy, and hope they'll defend us. Questions of what's honest and fair and true and right are everybody's concern.
"And Dad, it can't be right to say that times have changed, so we must adjust or die. Why do we have to adjust to corruption, smears, and strong-arm tactics used against us in a flagrant abuse of power? The opposite is true. If we cave, we'll die. If we don't fight this, we'll lose our souls.
"And it's not just our company that's on the chopping block. There's a huge scandal and cover-up going on regarding SafeVote. I believe—and Sam agrees—that an attempt is being made to rig the presidential election. Our country—our right to vote in a free and honest election, which safeguards all of our rights—is on the chopping block."
"We've been through this, Laura," Clark said, interrupting her. "Even if there was some truth to your charges, why should we be the ones to stick our necks out?"
"Because we're a news organization!" Laura said hotly.
"We're not," said Irene.
"And we're not," echoed Billie.
"I'm in a terrible situation," said Laura, her voice low, her face troubled. "I don't want to hurt the company, and yet I can't give up this case!" She looked at Sam, who nodded sympathetically. "So, I'd like you to consider spinning off Taninger News. I mean, allowing me to buy the news division from the parent company."
She saw surprised looks on some of the faces, but not her father's, as if he had contemplated the proposition she now raised.
Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry to inform you that what you're proposing won't work."
"Why not?" Laura asked suspiciously. "You've already discussed it with the Feds. Haven't you?"
"I have to admit," said Clark, "that I thought of the idea myself. I thought of Laura changing the name of Taninger News and starting a completely new media organization of her own, with no association to our family. That way, Taninger Enterprises would be rid of its biggest problem. I've had . . . private conversations with . . . people . . . in the highest places. But that won't stop them. They believe that having Taninger News untethered to the other family businesses would make Laura even more . . . unmanageable."
"So now it's the Feds' job to manage me?" Laura hotly.
The group listened soberly.
"Laura," Clark continued, "they'd only go after your new company with the same charges they brought against Taninger News, so you wouldn't be out of the woods. It would be nonsense, of course, but they'd tie you up in court for as long as it took to ruin you. Millions of dollars, just up in smoke. And they'd find powerful inducements for Taninger Enterprises not to do the spin-off. You see, I know what they really want. I know what spawned this lawsuit to break up our news division, and I know how to make it go away."
"How?" asked Bert Franklin.
"They want Laura out of the news business. They want new programming on our network without her influencing it."
"You mean, you went to Martin's people, and you found out they'll leave us alone if you destroy your daughter?" Laura charged.
"You'll never understand, will you?" Clark pointed an angry finger at Laura. "You never get into their motivation and their point of view."
"You mean their need to break up our family and our business? That's what you want to accommodate?"
"I have a company to run, and that's getting harder and harder to do with you in it!" Clark charged.
"You know," Laura commented, "we're all operating on the premise that the administration will win in bullying us. What if that's wrong? What if we'll win? All of our divisions are profitable right now, and my show is still number one in TV news. The pressure is real, but the support I'm receiving from my audience is just as potent, and it needs to be recognized. What if we get to the bottom of what's going on at Elections and bring it the public? If we're right, and we can expose the corruption, we'll save the country. Did you ever think of that?"
"Yes!" Kate was jumping out of her seat in affirmation, a hot flame in the midst of cooler embers. The others were more circumspect, their faces skeptical.
"Are we journalists? Are we an independent and free press?" asked Laura. "Or are we the lackeys of those in power?"
"All right," said Clark. "We've all had our say. If there's nothing more, I'd like to take the vote and be done with it."
No one argued.
"Okay, Caroline," said Clark, turning to his assistant. "Kate, you will please move away from the table, so only the seven directors are seated here."
As Kate obliged, she turned to her trustee, saying, "Erica, you know what I want done with my shares."
"And don't browbeat Erica!" Clark admonished.
Erica smiled at Kate but gave no hint of how she would vote.
Caroline placed a small card and envelope in front of each of the directors. The card contained one simple question, with an option to check Yes or No under it: Should Laura Taninger be removed as president of Taninger News?
"This is a secret ballot," Clark explained. "Please answer the question on the card in front of you, then place it in the envelope and seal it."
When everyone was finished, Caroline collected the seven sealed envelopes and brought them to her place.
"Should Laura be removed?" Caroline said, restating the question and opening the first envelope. It made a loud tearing sound in the silent room. Then, she removed the card.
"Yes," Caroline reported.
She placed the card on the table; then, she opened the second envelope.
"No." She placed that card next to the other, starting separate stacks for the yesses and nos.
She opened the third envelope. "Yes."
Then the fourth one. "Yes. We have three yesses and one no," she reported.
She opened the fifth one. "No."
Then, the sixth one. "No. That's three yesses and three nos."
The tension in the room mirrored a high-stakes poker game that was coming down to the final card. Everyone stared at Caroline as she picked up the last sealed envelope.
Caroline broke the seal and repeated the question: "Should Laura be removed as president of Taninger News?" She removed the final card. With a hint of sadness, she gave the result that sealed Laura's fate.
"Yes."
Clark sighed in relief. "The yesses have it, four to three."
Laura's face went white. She sat in mannequin-like stillness. She tried to force her mind to focus on one goal: to get through this meeting with dignity.
Nevertheless, her thoughts wandered. While other children had to read books to find tales of adventure, Laura's childhood was filled with real-life excitements, courtesy of JT and the family business. She remembered when she was five years old, and JT took her through the paper mills. She watched in awe as newspapers were printed at breakneck speed. When she was six years old, she loved to play on the floor in JT's office while he sat working at his desk. "You're going to be sitting here in my chair one day," he had told her. Could she? The child wondered at something unimaginable. If JT thought she could do his job, then maybe . . . just maybe . . .
She loved being around him, loved the excitement of the newsroom, loved the lively phone conversations, the people coming and going with questions to ask, decisions to be made—all of it making her childhood one thrilling roller-coaster ride. When she was old enough, she began working at Taninger News, first in the mailroom, then as a beat reporter, then in the television studio. She learned every job. The family business became inseparably meshed with her life.
She mustn't think back. Not now! She had to get through this meeting.
"In accordance with our bylaws," said Clark, "I will take over the management of Taninger News until a new president is appointed."
When she'd written her first editorials, given her first news reports, had her first editing job at the television network, and then, produced her first program, JT had been proud of her. He'd given her the confidence to take on more and more responsibility. When she'd won a prestigious award for investigative journalism, he'd had the certificate framed and hung it on the wall behind his desk. Every visitor to his office was regaled with the story of his brilliant granddaughter's achievement.
"The first decision I'm making as acting president of Taninger News is this: I hereby cancel the program Just the Truth. Its host, Laura Taninger, will not appear on the network again or have any say in its programming or operations. Laura is relieved of her responsibilities," Clark announced.
JT had lived to see his protégée rise to become president of Taninger News. When JT was bedridden in his old age, Laura remembered how he smiled at her with the boyish optimism of youth. "I'm leaving the company in good hands," he'd said, clutching her hands in his.
"I thank Laura for her many years of hard work and company loyalty," said Clark with a forced pleasantness.
The directors looked wooden, their eyes avoiding Laura, except for Irene, who gloated with satisfaction, and Kate, whose eyes became two basins filling with water and whose body stiffened, resolved not to let any of the tears fall.
"We will work out a generous severance package," Clark said, smiling at Laura. He raised his eyebrows hopefully, as if anticipating acknowledgment of a fair deal, but she did not smile in return.