Pool_1

percent less in claims. However, A.M. had been committed to a cash flow projection, to cover our ancillary investments, at an expectation of thirty percent. That leaves us, excuse me, YOU - short." "Short of projection," one of the gathered haltingly asserted, from the far left side of the table, as if seeking clarification. Mr. P. rose from his tall velvet seat, a silhouette in the blinding window light, again with the phone clutched but jerked even higher than before. He capped each uttered word with a crashing on the cherry wood battle drum which spread before him, spittle squeezing from the edges of his clenched mouth, "We.. were.. SHORT ! ....... Short! Short.. is.. short!" He sat down and continued without the percussion, with repetitive pointing, "You were given our projections! Why weren't they met!?" One of the more secure members attending stood up in senatorial style, using pause to establish an aura of circumspection to his analysis. He opened with what he assumed was a startling fact of life, "Did you know that an invisible laser beam projected on the corner of that window from a mile away can be used to eavesdrop on our conversation? We have this capability. Others have it, too." As some of the members muttered, Mr. P. counter-asserted that these windows were doubled and specifically rigged against just that sort of intrusion. He demanded the relevance of the remarks. "The relevance is that we don't have a lock on power nor expertise. Our supposed safeguards may be irrelevant to techniques that we don't even know exist," an answer that brought forth a so-fucking-what roar that demanded relevance. The speaker stiffened his composure, "Why don't we just invite the justice department here? They can sit in and take notes. That would save them eavesdropping money and us the