glanced at the security station–it was empty. The guard must have stepped out for a moment. Alone, and without security, Alex suddenly felt very vulnerable. Fists clenched, he prepared to confront the approaching figure. Alex didn’t carry a weapon or mace; such things were unnecessary in the usually secure building in the center of downtown Indianapolis. A pointed object was protruding from the man’s right hand as Alex braced for the coming assault. Suddenly, the night sensor on the security lights kicked-on, illuminating the lobby area. He instantly recognized the man with folded papers in his hand; he breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Strom! I didn’t expect you to be here at this time of the evening. You had me back on my heels for a minute there.”
“Well…uh forgive me Alex, I didn’t mean to alarm you. But Barnes told me you often worked late and I was at a United Way meeting at the Hyatt, so I thought I would run over and see if I could catch you before you left. When I entered the lobby and saw the elevator start from the top floor, I knew it must be you so I found a spot on that bench over there and waited for you to come down.”
Strom Winslow was a big, imposing man with thick gray hair and bushy eyebrows. He had a large, round face and a broad flat nose. His wide mouth seemed to curve into a smile with the smallest of efforts. Strom was the owner of the largest beer distributor in the Indianapolis area and also on the board of the Midwest Consolidated Bank, making him, in effect, one of Alex’s bosses.
Alex composed himself and wiped his sweaty hands dry with a handkerchief before vigorously shaking Strom’s outstretched hand. “Well I’m glad you came over my friend, it’s always good to see you.” He looked intently at Strom, begging an explanation for his unsettling appearance.
Strom continued, “Alex, the reason I’m here is that I think there is something we need to talk about and I thought it important that I talk with you tonight, before the board meeting in the morning.”
Alex knew what was coming. Still coping with the Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac banking crisis of a year earlier, their losses in the bond market the past year had been enormous. To complicate matters further, the individual mortgages that made up the huge bonds were still going sour at an alarming rate and needed to be replaced. It had reached the point where the Midwest loan originators could no longer make new mortgage loans to their customers fast enough to replace the bad ones inside the bonds. The situation was still worsening and the bottom line was suffering. So far, the board had stopped short of blaming Alex, choosing instead to assign responsibility to greedy bond managers and an over-stimulated mortgage market. But something told Alex that this assessment was about to change.
“I only have a few minutes, Strom. Nicky and I have a dinner date this evening and I’m already running late.” Alex wanted Strom, prone to rambling, to get right to the subject.
“Sure, Alex, I’ll keep it short. It seems that Barnes O’Brien, and some of the other board members, are concerned. Our bottom line is not what it should be and our stock holders have been getting kind of nervous lately. They’re starting to ask questions. Blaming subprime mortgages and an overheated market isn’t getting it anymore.”
“Uh…huh, so now it’s “let’s blame the president”. Is that what you’re trying to say, Strom?” It was Alex’s style to get right to the point. He knew more about the banking business than his collective board put together. He didn’t like them making judgments on such matters, especially when such analysis disagreed with his.
Strom didn’t appear to be surprised by Alex’s sharp response. “Well, not entirely Alex. The board appreciates all you’ve done over the years for Midwest; it’s just…uh they don’t like your stance on the bailout money. They….”
Alex interrupted, “Are you saying they don’t want me to pay back the twenty-five billion?”
“Chairman Barnes feels we could use the money; our losses are still growing.”
“That’s blood money, Strom! There are all kinds of strings attached to it. Besides, I can borrow the money cheaper on the open market right now. I thought I explained that to everyone at the last meeting. I thought everyone was on board with the payback.”
“They were at first, but they feel you may be jumping the gun. Like I said, our bottom line doesn’t look that good and we are continuing to get pressure from our stockholders. Barnes, and the board, feels we need to take another look at the situation.”
Alex shook his head, “Barnes and the board or just Barnes?”
“Dunno.”
Alex could feel himself becoming agitated. After a long day at the office and running late for dinner, this was the last thing he wanted to discuss. But Strom had always been a loyal ally in his fights with the board and he had made a special effort to come and warn him before the morning meeting.
He took a deep breath, “Listen Strom, I appreciate you coming over here this evening, I really do. But we can work out of this thing without Government help. We never should have accepted that bailout money—the Government so innocently calls TARP—in the first place. We need to pay it back!” Alex shook his head, “TARP—it sounds like something you throw over your boat or the back of your truck.”
“Borrowing is tough now Alex, I’m not sure you can get the money we need on the open market and this money is already in the bank.”
Alex grimaced, “The Government makes everything sound so easy with their bottomless pockets. And you’re right Strom, borrowing is getting a little tougher, but we can still survive. I can still borrow the money. Our commercial paper is holding its own, and our mortgage delinquencies are better than they were a few months ago. We are on our way to working our way out of this crisis. We’ll have a few bad quarters and then we’ll be back on track. The worst thing we can do is stay in bed with the Feds. They will own us! They’re already telling us what rates to charge, who we can and can’t lend to and what programs we can offer. It won’t be long before we’re like every other Government agency—broke and totally dependent on Uncle Sam. It will basically be the end of Midwest Consolidated as we know it.”
The old man looked directly at Alex without speaking. Then he shook his head and smiled, “I knew you’d say that, Alex.” He laid his big hands on Alex’s shoulders. “I’m with ya, pal. I don’t want those clowns anywhere near our bank. I was just testing you a little. You can count on me.”
“Thanks Strom, I’m going to need all the help I can get at that meeting tomorrow.”
The big man’s hands fell to his side. “I’ve been lobbying some of the weaker board members to see it our way.” He shot Alex a hard stare. “But if they hold tough, it could get ugly. You know Barnes, he never saw a Government program he didn’t like and he can play plenty rough when he has to.”
“I know Barnes can be a real pit bull at times, but that money has been nothing but a monkey on our back. We need to get rid of it so I can manage this bank the way I want to.”
Alex smiled reassuringly. “We’ll fight the good fight and let the chips fall where they may.” He lifted his hand high and shared a hand clasp with his loyal friend. “See you in the morning Strom.”
“Okay my friend, and don’t forget your flack jacket. You’re going to need it!” Strom hurried through the front door; Alex turned and resumed his walk to the parking garage. Once inside the garage, he picked up the pace and ran toward his car. The only sound in the expansive garage was his car keys and loose change jingling in his pocket.
He
