Business Predators

Rankhead is in town and he's taking down his enemies!

Standing on the summit of his efforts, Chris Rankhead took it all in.
He had made it!, he thought to himself as he smelled the leather of the Director's armchair. His chair! His throne, and an extension of his ego. This office was his badge of honour, and the primal instinct to punch the air kicked in. Never had the Company, in all it's years of trading, ever appointed such a malicious, deviant, manipulative and predatory swine than the obnoxious personage of Rankhead.

Nor was there ever a person who personified, as Rankhead did, the uglier aspects of humanity. You crossed him at your peril. Now it was time for retribution on the Sales team and Marketing division of Fluidpower Corporation. Every senior head within the Company opposed his appointment openly but the owner, M.K Holsten, overruled them all.
' A more capable individual will not be found in this industry, he insisted.
' We are in a tough economic arena and extreme times need extreme individuals! Rankhead is driven and the Company needs him. It's settled, he is the man we need in this dangerous hour in our history!

He would regret it in time, but not now nor even in the next five years.
The beast was unleashed and now it was payback time.
Even now Rankhead was planning the next move but first he had scores to settle. Frank Kershaw had been the most vocal in the animosity displayed towards his appointment. A smile came to his face as he emailed an appointment to meet him the following day.
'I'll show that b*****d sound commercial sense, he snarled. What has he done in the forty years on the board? He's out of here before the week is out! No lawyer will take his case by the time I've finished with him.
As he poured a brandy for himself, he inhaled the aroma and took pleasure in his plans. Rankhead is in town and the s**t is going to hit all their fans!
Then he eased into his chair and looked to the future. His future!
It was all going nicely and he was just getting warmed up.

The new Director sat across from Frank Kershaw at eight thirty a.m with the look of the demented on his face.
'Kershaw, I'm calling you out for the waster you are! That's right,your hearing's on the money.
I said waster! How you weren't found out in forty years is a failing on this company's part!
You're worse than useless and don't bother going to H.R for support. We pay their wages , get it! I'll see you ruined if you make any effort to challenge me.
Look at you, I pity you, Kershaw! Didn't you learn anything in this game?
You'll get a severance and like it.I want you off the Premises by ten thirty!

All this time, Kershaw had listened and now he spoke as he raised his six foot frame out of the chair.' I know you, Rankhead and your kind! Cowardly scum in corporate uniform.
I'm going nowhere until I hear it from Holsten. Who the hell do you think you're talking too?
I'll break your back in an instant if I have to. At this Rankhead called in security.
'Get him off the premises! He's finished here. At that, Kershaw threw his full weight behind a savage right hook and caught Rankhead full on.
This played right into Rankhead's hands and as his security force took over the situation, he sat back in his chair and adjusted his tie. The shelby knot was sitting just nice and a small trickle of blood fell from his nose onto the pure silk material.
Well now, he thought, easier than I thought and smirked as he saw Kershaw manhandled
off the premises.Grabbing a Cuban cigar, he smelled the aroma of power.
Now he adjusted his posture and called to reception,
'Get Sinclair from the Workshop,tell him to get his a*s into my office,now!
'Yes Sir!'
As the call out went out on the Intercom, Robert Sinclair looked at his collegues but everyone's faces stared away.He made his way towards Rankheads office, already aware of the Kershaw incident.

' You called, Mr.Rankhead'
'Don't give me that Bullshit, Sinclair. 'Sit down!
Sinclair knew the game was on and he would need his full faculties switched on. The full metal mindset as he liked to call it.
Then the two men stared each other for a full two minutes in silence.

Time slowed down as each man sized the other up. An uneasy tension siezed the moment and Rankhead was unnerved slightly by the cool demeanour of Sinclair.
He had a robust,stocky frame and very broad shoulders.His hands were enormous and looked calloused and hardened.A good looking man in his early forties, rugged handsome features,and a world weary countenance. Probably a former boxer, Rankhead thought.
In an effort to intimidate and control the situation, Rankhead blew his cigar smoke in the direction of his employee and watched his reaction.

'All right,Rankhead! State your case! Make your call'.

'You insolent Irish b*****d! Make my call? Do you know who you're talking too?'
'I have your card marked, a dirty Irish immigrant! Parachuted into this company by Kershaw.'
An eerie silence settled momentarily as the cigar smoke clouded the angry room.

'Well Kershaw's gone and your back up is gone with him!
Sinclair?, that's no Irish name. IRS would like to vet your background.'
I can help them plenty too!
'You see, I have plans for you. Big plans ! 'That's right' he grinned, 'I own you now, you lousy son of an Irish b***h!

Sinclair casually looked across at Rankhead then. He was unfazed by the rhetoric and stood briefly to stretch his six foot frame. Then he walked over to the window.
Gently he opened it and let in some fresh air.

'What the hell are you doing? Get your arse back in that seat! roared Rankhead.
He was unnerved now and startled by the cool composure of the Irishman.

'You don't seem to have grasped the seriousness of your situation, Rankhead.''
If you take me on, you're taking on the Organisation. The inflection of his Irish brogue delivering an unmistakeable edge of authority.

The tone and menace in the voice shocked him and he visibly paled.
' What the hell are you talking about?'

'You look like an educated man,Rankhead, have you studied your Irish History?
I''m talking about the Provisional I.R.A! They won't appreciate your ignorance or the manner you're expressing to a fellow member. You see, we know all about you too'.

'We have our own plans and they won't be ballsed up by a low life corporate climber'.
'Think I'm bluffing? Prepared to put your life on it?

Rankhead was trembling now. He reached for a decanter and poured himself a drink.
Quickly he lashed it back keeping his eyes and ears on Sinclair.

'Didn't think so, you cowardly b*****d. First off, Kershaw's a valued member of our club'.
'Gathered a lot of funds over the years and has kept the munitions supply going into Ireland
for a long time now. Your next move, Rankhead is reinstating him back into this company'.
'Think about that now. This conversation is not over, not by a long shot.

' We own you, you miserable b*****d and we call the shots!'
'By the way, we know all about your lovely wife too. How is she?
'We'll talk again soon, Rankhead.
At that, Sinclair smiled gently. ' I'll let myself out, shall I?'

As he closed the door behind him, Rankhead stared blankly ahead.
His mind was racing! ' Damn it! he roared slamming his fist on the table.

His first setback visibly shook him. ' Those Irish b******s!' he thought to himself.
'I'll show them!', he said and then made a mental note to call Torrelini.
'The Provisional I.R.A ' he sneered. 'A spent force'. I'll meet them like for like, kind for kind!'

In downtown Boston, the local mafioso were gathered for dinner when Antonio Torrellini's phone rang, ' Hi Antonio! It's Rankhead, I'm calling in a favour!'


Sinclair was cruising along the highway in a black Corvette and Frank Kershaw was beside him. They were on their way to meet the local IRA quartermaster to discuss the recent events.

' O' Hara wants to get the whole background from you, Frank.
' What the hell did you think you were doing, smashing Rankhead's face in?'

' That b*****d needed to know his place! I still have sensitive data in my safe at that office' said Kershaw.

'It's only a small setback, Frank. You'll be back in the door this week'

'Check out the Black Plymouth up our a*s, Bob!

'Yeah, spotted him already, there's a Browning in the glove panel. Take it out, Frank'.
'Open that hold-all in the back seat and place it beside you'.

'Sweet Jesus, you brought an armalite AR-18 with you?
'Damn right I did!' Suddenly the Stingray accelerated like an anti-Christ on speed.

A screech of burning rubber ripped the air and the Barracuda took off after them.

'Point that armalite out the back, Frank and let them have it!

'I don't believe it! shouted the driver of the Barracuda as he realised he was in the killing zone.

A burst of gunfire opened up and lashed into the trailing car. As it careered off the road, it went up in a ball of flame and exploded.

' Did you lob a grenade, Frank? 'You mad b*****d!'

The two men laughed as the Corvette accelerated into the night.

' Looks like we're at war, Bob.

Declan O' Hara stared at the two men in his office. 'Well Bob, I hope you maxed your time in your wheels.That Stingray is getting erased as we speak. It's off the map now.

' In case you didn't know, the Mafia boys are up our a*s. You were about to get taken out before you pulled your little stunt'. He burst out laughing then.
' What did I tell you about carrying the AR18, Bob? Have you got a death wish? Even you know it's looking for trouble.'

' As for you Frank, your days in the ring are still haunting you!'
' When you meet Rankhead again, outsmart him. We don't want a repeat of your pugilism, for Christ Sake!' ' You're not Sonny Liston!'
Now, what exactly is in that safe, Frank?