Tonight we begin Part Eight: Tycoons and Trailblazers. We've already learned what happened when Ozzie Guerrero and Shamiso Kachote traveled to their home towns looking for their twin siblings. They found one to be a retired sports legend. The other, a world famous pop diva. But what of Young-Min Jo? What became of his identical twin?
A successful businessman is what we know so far. An extraordinary entrepreneur, he is both founder and current CEO of a corporation called Min-Pharma, which employs thousands the world over. He's rich beyond belief; that we can assume. But what's this maverick CEO really like? What makes him tick? What's it like on the inside of his notoriously secretive operation? What kind of people work for him?
Tonight we begin Part Eight: Tycoons and Trailblazers. We've already learned what happened when Ozzie Guerrero and Shamiso Kachote traveled to their home towns looking for their twin siblings. They found one to be a retired sports legend. The other, a world famous pop diva. But what of Young-Min Jo? What became of his identical twin?
A successful businessman is what we know so far. An extraordinary entrepreneur, he is both founder and current CEO of a corporation called Min-Pharma, which employs thousands the world over. He's rich beyond belief; that we can assume. But what's this maverick CEO really like? What makes him tick? What's it like on the inside of his notoriously secretive operation? What kind of people work for him?
Hello and welcome back to Season Two of Twin Paradox. I'm King Everett Medlin and what you're listening to is a SciFi trilogy I wrote four years ago under the pen name Purple Hazel. Twin Paradox follows my first podcast series entitled Deathwalker Colony, which is now a full length novel available for purchase on Amazon, along with the first two books in the Rijel 12 Series, the Rise of New Australia and Return of Anarchy. Go online and check 'em out!
Tonight we begin Part Eight: Tycoons and Trailblazers. We've already learned what happened when Ozzie Guerrero and Shamiso Kachote traveled to their home towns looking for their twin siblings. They found one to be a retired sports legend. The other, a world famous pop diva. But what of Young-Min Jo? What became of his identical twin? A successful businessman is what we know so far. An extraordinary entrepreneur, he is both founder and current CEO of a corporation called Min-Pharma, which employs thousands the world over. He's rich beyond belief; that we can assume. But what's this maverick CEO really like? What makes him tick? What's it like on the inside of his notoriously secretive operation? What kind of people work for him?
Twin Paradox is a SciFi series encompassing three full length novels, all of which can be found on Amazon.com. You can go online and purchase them, or, if you prefer, listen to me read them to you. So let's continue. Ladies and Gentlemen, Part 8: Tycoons and Trailblazers. Chapter 37: Spy Movie Intrigue.
“Good evening Zero, what do you have for me?” asked Kwang-Min Jo, the Chairman of Min-Pharma Corporation, and its founder as well as its current CEO. He didn’t look up when he said this. Eyes still glued to the computer, he spoke to her while still entranced by figures and statistics on his video screen, slumped over at the shoulders, one hand on the desk operating a control panel which enabled him to automatically switch his screen to security camera views of his corporate headquarters compound.
“He’s on his way right now boss,” said Zero. “Should be arriving any minute from Pearson. My operative says they’re delivering him to us in an unmarked passenger van with an armed detail. We can’t interfere at this point, so there’s no way to go pick him up from the airport in one of our limos, sorry.”
“That’s fine,” remarked Kwang-Min, still not looking up from his computer screen. Reading glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, it was common for the short, stooped little man to have entire conversations with subordinates just like this, without making eye contact. He’d occasionally look up over the tops of his spectacles but usually looked to the side of a person or above their head; never directly at them.
However, he always heard every word Zero said, and could often recall direct quotes from her, days or even weeks later. Thus she’d learned never to get frustrated with her superior or speak emotionally with him. He’d remember almost exactly what she said and it might come back to haunt her later. But Kwang-Min, rarely one for using too many words himself, still had more to say.
“And by the way, Zero, you’ve done a great job on this project locating my brother, I must say,” said Kwang-Min. “It was money well-spent.”
Zero smiled. She loved it when Kwang-Min paid her compliments. What’s more, she most certainly had done a fine job recruiting and training the operative who’d been feeding them information for the past 18 months about her boss’s long-lost brother. Real cloak and dagger stuff. James Bond spy movie intrigue.
“Thanks boss, really,” replied Zero, “We sure found a way inside that organization, didn’t we? Space Programme was like some kind of gigantic puzzle box when I started working on this project. Now I got a man over there drawing information from them like a syringe. Pretty much anything you want to know - about SP operations – we can get it for you now.” Kwang-Min didn’t look away from his screen, but he did crack a smile on his face upon hearing this. Zero could see his eyes darting back and forth like he was stuck on a particular batch of statistics or perhaps a single paragraph of text. It always amazed her how he could concentrate on several things at once, and compartmentalize information from different sources simultaneously.
“Sounds intriguing,” remarked Kwang-Min in response. “How did you pull it off?” he then asked. “I’ve of course noticed the expense account charges for this operation increasing dramatically over the past six months.”
Comments like that coming from the typically frugal CEO would usually cause a subordinate to shake in their boots. But this time Kwang-Min was half-smiling when he said it, still looking at his computer screen but clearly more amused with the cost of the mission than anything else. He’d basically been bankrolling this clandestine operation to infiltrate Space Programme for nearly a year and a half - ever since investigations into his brother’s disappearance had led to the conclusion Young-Min might actually be a crewman onboard the Santa Maria.
“Well boss,” explained Zero with a devious grin, “I gotta say you’d have been impressed with how we set it up. Poor bitch we targeted never suspected a thing. Still doesn’t know a thing. My operative is a former ballet dancer from Russia you see, who we found struggling to make ends meet here in Toronto a while back. He’d torn up his knees and was doped up on painkillers. I found out about him and recruited him to come work for us. He’s gorgeous by the way. Can’t blame the bitch for falling for him.”
Kwang-Min chuckled softly. “I see, yes. And the money was for setting him up in Darmstadt if I recall was it? As a research scientist?” Zero nodded and snickered, “That’s right boss. A research scientist. We had the target already in mind when we sent him there … some lonely gal working in Space Programme headquarters. A lady who was working in a clerical position as far as we knew, but … gotta hand it to him … Vaslav did all the rest. Seemed like every deposit we made into his bank account, the harder he worked to seduce her.”
“Yes, I remember you telling me of this,” commented Kwang-Min, the smile broadening on his face. He looked over at her, but once again looked into her eyes only for a second, then glanced over the top of her head before refocusing on his computer screen. “Single German lady – not very attractive – never married. Dashing Russian posing as a biochemist – working on a grant from some overseas firm to develop what, a vaccine?” asked the now amused CEO. To this Zero shrugged her shoulders.
“No idea boss. Left that pretty much up to him,” she replied. “I just told him what we needed to find out and helped him figure out how to coax the information out of her once he got her into bed. Taught him that part myself of course. Told him to take all the time he needed to become her lover. Then, when she was totally under his control, well … it was only a matter of telling her what he needed to find out. Without exposing the entire operation of course.”
Kwang-Min nodded, raising his eyebrows as if slightly concerned with the risky nature of the mission. If Space Programme ever found out he was using a spy to gain information about his brother, the backlash could be devastating. Min-Pharma was already in hot water with the GU for counterfeit drugs being marketed under major brand names which Kwang-Min had purchased distribution rights to. Only problem was the drugs being offered for sale to the public were often inferior, ineffective, and in some cases lethal. There was a case pending right now over in England addressing one of Min-Pharma’s many infractions. Kwang-Min was already anticipating an enormous fine when the matter was finally settled.
“Well, then it’s good to know he was careful about it,” commented Kwang-Min Jo. “We’re certainly in enough trouble as it is without bringing Space Programme down on our necks.” Zero shook her head, eyes widening.
“Oh no, no chance of that boss. They’ve been dating now for quite a while. She’s almost certain he’s going to propose marriage to her, he’s been telling me. Says she’s been staying at his apartment in town frequently. At this point, she’s so tangled up in it, even if she did find out what was behind it all – I mean who’s behind it that is – it probably wouldn’t matter. She’s in love with him, he can tell.”
To this Kwang-Min clarified, “And the operative? Does he share such feelings toward her? That could be dangerous too, I’d assume. What if the man falls in love with the woman and starts feeling remorse for using her in this manner?”
Zero again shook her head, only this time with a widening grin on her face. She’d already accounted for this potentiality long ago. Was very careful to select just the right man for the job. That’s what was so valuable about Zero to a man like Kwang-Min Jo. She knew her stuff, and that’s why he’d put her in charge of Security for Min-Pharma Corporation in the first place.
“Not likely boss,” she countered. “Vaslav is gay. Real flamer too. Flamboyant homosexual. Has lovers all over town … up in Frankfurt.” Then she smiled coolly. “Poor bitch has no idea ….”
Yes, Zero was one street-smart Asian gal. Born “Xi Ju Xiu” to Chinese/Burmese parents who’d immigrated to Canada when she was a toddler, she’d been taken from them by social workers when she was only three and forced to live a rather similar life to Kwang-Min Jo. Endured the same deprivations out on the streets of Toronto. Orphanage life and the years that followed had made her tough though. She knew how to get the things she needed to survive. Knew rather well how to defend herself.
Her original name Xi Ju Xiu was far too difficult for kids to pronounce as she was growing up, but after developing quite the reputation as a brawler whenever there was a scrap out on the school yard, someone somewhere started nicknaming her Zero. Over time it stuck; and as the years passed it became her nom de guerre. Made everyone call her that. Kwang-Min did as well; and so did all her security personnel. Dry and stoic much like her boss, she rarely revealed emotions or visibly reacted to much of anything. She took care of the dirty work for the company CEO; that’s what she thrived at.
And not just that! She made problems go away. Made rivals go away, too. Made them disappear or fade into oblivion. Commanded Kwang-Min’s bodyguards and coordinated operations whenever a little muscle was needed to enforce his will. If a government official was in the way, she’d find a way to influence him, blackmail him, bribe him, expose him – and always in such a manner as to obscure any direct connection to her reclusive superior. The message would inevitably be conveyed: Kwang-Min was not someone to be trifled with. Doing so could end up devastating one’s career. Or worse.
Lower-level officials trying to make a name for themselves, export/import regulators attempting to expose Min-Pharma’s shady trade practices, even do-gooder consumer advocates could and did occasionally run afoul of Kwang-Min over the years. And if they interfered openly with his operations, well, he merely needed to call upon Zero to “handle it.” Then the problem would magically vanish. If it was manageable enough, that is. True, if it had to do with litigation and out-of-court financial settlements paid to opportunistic lawyers filing class-action lawsuits against Min-Pharma hoping to make a fast buck, then of course that was another matter entirely. Zero did have her limitations after all. However, it would seem those limits were few and far between when it came to getting the job done regarding surveillance and clandestine information-gathering ….
“You’re sure of this?” asked Kwang-Min in regard to her claims, “The man is a homosexual? How did you find this out about our handsome Russian?” He was now grinning almost boyishly – still reading his computer screen but appearing to be humored by Zero’s brash observation. Zero smiled icily. She knew he was merely toying with her.
Of course she knew all about her operative’s sex life. Knew about every single phone call he’d had with the woman: when it was made, what was said, and how intimate her operative and the target spoke with each other during the conversation. What’s more Kwang-Min would have fully expected her to spy on her own spy, just to make sure he didn’t switch sides. That was basic common sense when it came to intelligence work.
“I tailed him myself, boss,” explained Zero. “Followed him up to Frankfurt one Saturday when he’d told the bitch he was going to be working late on one of his projects. After he hung up with her he left his lab early and didn’t come back until next afternoon. But he wasn’t alone that was for sure. Went to a popular gay hangout called “Stall” up on Stiftstraβe downtown. Everyone in Frankfurt knows about it. It’s a leather fetish bar where men go to hook up with other guys. Yes, I’m quite certain he prefers to play for the other team in his free time. We have nothing to worry about as far as him switching sides on us – and even if he tries pulling that crap I’ll catch him long before he does any damage.” In response, Kwang-Min smiled and nodded. He had no doubt she would keep the fellow in line.
Through a doorway leading from the executive suite to a private apartment next door Zero could hear noises generally associated with a kitchen in full operation and someone cooking supper. She could hear the clinking of pots and pans, vegetables being cut up and tossed into a wok where they could be fried or sautéed. Zero could even smell peanut oil heating up in a skillet and onions and garlic simmering. That’s when it occurred to her that the CEO’s private chef was preparing his dinner. Only the “super rich” had something like that. The pleasant aromas inspired her to comment.
“Sounds like you’ve got a big dinner planned for your brother when he arrives. Is Maybelline hard at work on some special welcome-home meal for Young-Min Jo?” she asked politely. Maybelline was his personal chef, a Tongan woman he’d hired several years prior. Almost all of his employees were either Asian or Pacific Islanders by the way. Even his security guards were predominantly Samoans or Tongans. “It already smells delicious,” she added, “Korean food?”
To this Kwang-Min brightened and looked directly at her, almost freezing her with apprehension upon noticing him finally making eye contact. Kwang-Min now had a joyful smile on his face, sort of like a child anticipating Santa Claus’s arrival on Christmas Eve. It surprised her, his unexpectedly warm response to her query.
“Yes Zero, that’s precisely what I have in mind for tonight as a matter of fact … a home-cooked meal for Young-Min … and while we’re at it, I’d very much like for you to join us … after you retrieve my brother from the front gate,” he replied with a blinking nod. That was always a trademark facial expression of her superior whenever he was basically giving a command but not actually giving a direct order. Directives from the Min-Pharma CEO were often implied, as if a subordinate should simply understand his wishes and see to it they were fulfilled – if they knew what was good for them ....
It was much the same with his quite elaborate corporate executive’s office. Professionally-decorated, it was furnished with brown leather couches in the waiting area and wainscoting running waist-high along three of its walls. The custom-made coffee table was stained with a similar tone of varnish, then surfaced with smoked glass and an animated sculpture placed as a centerpiece. Water was piped from the center of the sculpture to the top where it could cascade gently over the various moving parts and water wheels back to a reservoir below where it was then recirculated. A massive fish tank adorned one of the three walls, which had an assortment of salt water sea creatures darting about or floating randomly below the surface. With the gurgling of the water sculpture and the bubbling of the pumps on his fish tank, the inside of his office sounded like a pleasant, peaceful oasis. Furthermore, the area above the wainscoting was painted mauve with seven modern impressionist-style paintings adorning the walls that all seemed to have been done by the same artist. To the trained eye with an appreciation for art they would have been quite impressive. Even to a casual visitor, the place would have been full of eye-catching sights and soothing ambience.
Of course, most anyone visiting – if they were paying close attention – could have easily taken notice of what was NOT displayed in the man’s private office. No family pictures. No memorabilia or souvenirs. No university diploma or pennant showing off his college alma mater. No photos posing with famous people or glad-handing with G.U. officials. No pictures from golf outings waving merrily from some swank Arizona golf course with saguaro cactuses poking up in the background on a brilliant sunny desert morning. None of these things could be seen anywhere. Just a hardwood office desk that had all the accoutrements one might anticipate being displayed on top: computer screen off to the side, a leather desk blotter in the center, a control panel next to the computer keyboard for communications with his subordinates. If a staff person or visitor were ever to barge in during one of his marathon work sessions they might see a plate of food (half-finished) sitting out on the surface of the desk, and a linen napkin wadded up in the center. A chrome water bottle off to the side - ready for him to grab and quench his thirst without having to take his eyes off the screen – that was almost always to be seen as well.
But Kwang-Min Jo had absolutely nothing to do with the décor of this modern, upscale executive office. Provided no input whatsoever. Wouldn’t have concerned him in the first place. It just wasn’t his style. He’d merely told his staff at one time he needed a private office on the top floor that would impress visitors and this is what they created for him. He also told them he needed an apartment next door where he could live – and this delighted his security detail who no longer had to protect him moving about the city unless he traveled to other countries on business.
Basically he lived most of his life right there in that office building. Had an apartment with a gourmet kitchen that he knew nothing about how to use except for boiling water in a teapot. The personal chef took care of everything else. The apartment had a private bedroom which he rarely used. Typically he slept on the big leather couch in his office – in his shirt and slacks – then he’d awaken and change clothes into a new outfit once he’d showered and revived himself with some hot tea. Whenever he wasn’t traveling this was essentially his daily routine.
He dressed like a corporate executive, oh yes. He wore business suits every day, occasionally unbuttoning his top shirt button and loosening his tie whenever he knew he’d be alone for a while. Dark gray suits mostly. Occasionally black. He had six of each which he rotated through regularly. And his neckties were usually single-color, often yellow or red, which he tied only once then removed at night by loosening and slipping them over his bushy black head of hair. He’d get right back to work each day in a flurry of activity after catching a few hours of shut-eye.
Yes, Kwang-Min Jo was the consummate workaholic. Existed on four to five hours of sleep for the most part, and worked through evenings, weekends, and holidays with no consideration for the trappings of a personal life. Didn’t occur to him. He’d always been this way and never varied his routine for anything – nor for anyone. His whole life was Min-Pharma and the pharmaceutical empire he was building. Could have gadgets and gizmos galore; yet spending money on anything that would never yield a profit someday – even luxurious comfort to ease his many burdens - was an absurd notion. Why anyone would “waste” resources on things such as these was both foreign and detestable to a man with so much responsibility (not to mention ambition).
Sure, he could have been a playboy. Could have dated fancily-dressed super models … perhaps even high-priced call girls! But why? What could they do for him? He had no desire for such diversions. To Kwang-Min Jo, who’d never known a mother’s nurturing, women were manipulative creatures who would only complicate his world and demand his constant attention. He by way of comparison was married to his career and loved nothing but the constant pursuit of wealth and power. Sexual intimacy ... physical companionship didn’t interest him in the least. Love; specifically romantic love, was for fools.
That's probably because he’d never had anyone to love him back – except perhaps Zero – and his relationship with her was one-sided at best. She adored him to be honest. Saw in him the one and only man she could truly respect and be devoted to. If she ever had time to settle down that is - more specifically if Kwang-Min would ever ask her to. If he’d ever just slow down and come to the realization that he needed a companion to take care of him in other words. She’d felt this way about him for years. Hoped and dreamed one day he’d open up to her.
Kwang-Min however did not return her affections. He was stoic and disinterested. Walled off from human interaction and emotional connections. He saw nothing in Zero but a loyal subordinate in whom he could place his trust, and for Kwang-Min this was all he might ever be capable of as a human being. To him that was as meaningful of a human bond as his cold heart could offer another person. Zero sensed this and honestly it saddened her at times fearing he would in all likelihood never share her feelings.
That said, to be invited to dinner with both the object of her affection as well as his twin brother who was returning to Toronto after 24 years in space? This was a supreme honor. Her heart leapt with joy at the unexpected invitation ….
“Sure boss! I mean … that would be … I’d be delighted, yes. I’ll check with my people at the front gate right away and see if your brother has arrived!” she exclaimed, shifting in her plush leather guest chair - eyes bright with excitement.
Kwang-Min saw this and felt tinges of compassion for the woman. He was aware of how much she loved him. Had picked up on it on multiple occasions. Certainly, their professional relationship presented a natural barrier to this but it was unsettling at times. Knew there was no way to dissuade her from having such feelings for him.
What’s more … he already knew Young-Min had arrived, having taken notice of a small security camera view which popped up on his computer screen. Approaching vehicles as they neared the compound gate always triggered sensors which prompted his computer to display live footage of their presence. Furthermore, he could assume that any second now Zero’s electronic paging device would be notifying her of this. Indeed, a white panel van was at this very moment pulling up to the gate, and guards were swarming around it. Knowing he had mere moments, he felt inspired to tell her something he’d been thinking about all day and occasionally during the night before as he’d been studying up on a new drug coming out of Afghanistan which might yield his company yet another big hit with western consumers.
“You know of course, due to the effects of deep space travel, my brother Young-Min has likely not aged as quickly as Earth-bound humans during this long period he’s been away. Have you heard of this, Zero?” he asked. By now he’d shifted his weight in his chair and pivoted slightly so he could lean forward and cross his arms on the big executive’s desk.
“People on space ships flying through the galaxy at near-light speed only age at around half the rate of normal humans. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this phenomenon. It has something to do with Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. Biologically speaking, my brother is approximately only 24 years old. He most likely looks just like me … but only when I was in my early to mid-twenties at best. You may very well find him … appealing.”
Saying this he grinned boyishly – displaying a facial expression she’d never seen before. It was almost disquieting! Yet she composed herself quickly, as blood rushed to her cheeks and her eyes blinked nervously. She nodded sheepishly, not knowing just what to say to her usually emotionless superior. Her heart was telling her she needed to form an enthusiastic response. Meanwhile her brain was telling her “Shut the fuck up or you’ll regret it later.” The attractive gal fully understood just how deep of a hole she could dig for herself if she responded the wrong way. One too many times she’d found herself embarrassed or left feeling dejected from reading him incorrectly in the past.
And yet luckily for Zero, her Digital Communication Device strapped to her wrist was now flashing red and vibrating audibly. This was the signal she’d been waiting for. Saved her from answering. Saved her from making a fool of herself once more. Seeing the blinking red signal light and knowing Kwang-Min had likely noticed it too, she finally responded.
“Well then boss, speaking of that, I guess that’s him arriving down at the gate. Uh … perhaps I should hop to it and go retrieve him, huh?” She could feel the tension mounting as Kwang-Min continued to smile and nod at her patiently. Zero instinctively collected herself and became more businesslike. “Back in fifteen minutes I’d assume, if there are no further delays from his military escort that is. Shall I uh, go fetch him to your office then?” This seemed at least for the moment to be the right course of action.
Kwang-Min nodded and gestured with his hand for her to proceed. His smile then faded slightly as she rose from her chair. Mind was fast at work as always, she could tell. Concentrating on several things at once. That’s what she was accustomed to seeing him do. It was the perfect time to beat a hasty exit.
If she only knew what was really going on inside that cool, calculating brain of his however! True, the wheels were already turning; considering the immense possibilities afforded to him from having his twin brother returning to Toronto. The perfect confidant. The perfect business partner! A man who, as he recalled it from years past, would in all likelihood not only look identical to him; but for all intents and purposes think the same way. See things the same way. Someone he would be able to put his trust in. Share his burgeoning empire with.
This was what he’d been longing for all these years – ever since a paid informant had first tipped him off that his twin sibling was a crewman on the controversial galactic transport ship which had been in the news from time to time for over two decades. That’s what was really going through his mind, even if Zero had no clue of his intentions.
Thus, without any further delay, Zero hopped up from her chair and scurried out of Kwang-Min’s office. Pausing momentarily across the room; she awaited the private elevator that only ran from the garage area below the building directly to the CEO’s private office. When it opened she hurriedly entered and typed in her security code to activate the controls.
As the doors shut, she could see her boss turning back to his computer. Zero noticed how he still had a happy, boyish grin on his face. Seemed almost odd really. He appeared … relieved. Joyful. Excited. And that certainly wasn’t like Kwang-Min to display such emotion. Not at all. Perhaps whatever he’d been reading on his computer screen was of deep interest to the cold-hearted business executive who’d clawed his way to the top - built a drug distribution empire from absolutely nothing. Being head of security, she knew for a fact he’d been up half the night studying reports and had instructed subordinates not to disturb him until evening.
“He’s cooking up something that's for sure,” she murmured to herself. “Can’t tell if it’s only business or if he’s just excited about Young-Min’s return.” Then after a moment or two, when the elevator doors closed and the car began descending, a thought crossed her mind:
“Maybe it’s both. If I know the boss … he’s got big plans for that brother of his.”
This concludes tonight's presentation of Chapter Thirty-Seven: Spy Movie Intrigue. I hope you enjoyed it. Watch for Chapter 38, which I'll be posting very soon.
Also, and don't forget, my latest full length novel, Deathwalker Colony, is available for purchase right now on Amazon.com, along with the first two books in the Rijel 12 Series: The Rise of New Australia and Return of Anarchy. A link to these is included in the transcript for this episode. Go online and check 'em out!
I'm King Everett Medlin. Thanks for tuning in.
https://www.amazon.com/King-Medlin/e/B07KTGTX1W%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
https://www.facebook.com/KingEverettMedlinAuthor/
https://twitter.com/kingemedlin