The atmosphere in the director's office at the Logot Firearms Factory was rather tense.
"Why are we having trouble with our sales channels again-"
Lorne stared at the latest financial statement before him, his brows tightly furrowed and his voice tinged with irritation.
After considerable effort, he had finally secured a few orders through Councilman Macht. Their symbolic value outweighed their actual volume, but they had at least given the factory a little breathing room. Now, however, even the regular sales channels that had been fairly stable were running into trouble.
"Didn't you tell me just a couple of days ago that we'd sold quite a few of my new guns?"
"How come we can't even sell ordinary bullets now?" Lorne raised his head and fixed the factory director, Ted, with a sharp stare.
"Boss, you really can't blame me for this-it's just that the market lately has been a little..." Ted looked miserable too, helplessness written all over his face.
"Didn't I give you some money at the start to deal with these things?" Lorne leaned forward, his tone stern.
To get things moving and resolve the sales-channel problem as quickly as possible, Lorne had given Ted a sum of money. Its main purpose was to let him "grease the palms" of purchasing departments at major department stores and arms wholesalers.
After all, the factory had been on the verge of bankruptcy. If they wanted to break back into the market now, their old contacts might not oblige without a little persuasion.
In an era when the market was relatively saturated, spending money on personal connections to secure sales was something of an unspoken industry rule.
"Don't tell me... you pocketed that money?" Lorne's gaze turned dangerous.
He had only kept Ted on as factory director because the man