Spanish Treasure
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Fun with the boss in Spain. And questing above my station.
NOTE: All characters in this story are fictitious. Any names that might be similar to real names are purely accidental. Just wanted to make that clear.
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The trip over had been quite the experience, but arriving in Madrid we were all business. A quick cab ride had us at the hotel we were staying at by a little after 11:00. We had adjoining rooms this time, and neither was ready, but they offered to hold our bags for us and transfer them to the room when they were available.
It was still around 5:00am at home. I wanted to give the girls a call and let them know I’d made it, but it was a bit too early. They’d have to wait until the evening. Like me.
Chris and I cleaned up to the best of our ability in the restrooms, and had to turn and leave almost immediately to meet our clients. Things started off well enough, until the initial training session was to start, and they showed up with twice the people we’d agreed to. I let Chris deal with the business end of it, while I prepared for the lecture. There was a shortage of all materials, and I was surprised to see that several of the people present weren’t in uniform. It turned out they were Spanish contractors, working on the same program as us, and they did most of the local programming.
I didn’t like the sound of that. They’d have a vested interest in tearing us down, and trying to build themselves up. A definite surprise for us, and not a good one.
There was only one face I recalled from our previous trip, Captain Perez, who had been my main technical counterpart the first time around.
If it had been any other trainer, things might have gotten ugly. In this case, I knew the software and the entire system for that matter, better than anyone else alive. When a few questions from the peanut gallery were thrown my way, with no purpose other than to question our capability, I turned the tables nicely and shot down the asker. Good questions were handled gracefully, and any questions by the military were handled carefully. We were short on materials, and everyone had to share. That brought up another snide comment from the contractors, this time in Spanish. It got a few giggles until I responded.
“So I’m not prepared? And your name is?”
The guy looked surprised at my excellent Spanish, my 7 years in South America preparing me well.
“Miguel Arguello-Cortez,” he responded arrogantly.
“Well Senor Cortez, it appears you’re not on my official roster of trainees. Did the project team make a mistake? Did our host forget to include you? My latest roster was confirmed Friday. Twelve trainees. Perhaps you could count the number at this session for me?”
He looked irritated, but looked around and announced, “Twenty two.”
“I see.” I switched the display on the overhead, and showed the signed roster sheet.
“There IS a shortage of materials. For a group this size. For fairness sake, perhaps everyone on my official list should have one set of materials per person, and all the ‘unofficial’ trainees can share the extra three sets I brought along, just in case.”
The table was looking around, confused. “Please, go ahead and move around if necessary, we can wait a few more minutes,” I insisted. “We can just go by this list.”
The woman beside me, a civilian, and quiet to that point, stood and stepped beside me. “You’ve made your point Senor Jack, the last minute change in plans is certainly not your fault,” she spoke very softly, excellent English with a slight lisp. “They’ll be no more trouble. We can continue.”
I looked at her for a few long seconds, standing my ground. She stood quietly, very self assured, waiting patiently. I could belabor the issue, stop the training until I had confirmation for the additional trainees. I could just continue the training ignoring the civilians, and let them fend for themselves.
Or I could do as she asked, ignore the few bumps in the road so far, and do my best to keep our real client happy. I finally relented. “As you wish, Miss…”
“Ana Isabel,” she said with what might have passed for a disarming smile, on somebody less steely-eyed.
“You are right of course. We all have the same goal at heart: to provide the best possible solution to our hosts, creating as little interference or distraction as possible. Let’s continue.”
She was right. There was no more trouble after that, and to be honest, several of her people were very good, asking pertinent probing questions. By the end of the session I felt pretty good about what we’d accomplished, and was glad to shut things down.
I was holding an impromptu Q&A discussion with about a half-dozen trainees including Captain Perez and Ana Isabel who appeared to be in charge of the contractors, when Chris showed up from her meetings, with the Colonel and some new faces in tow.
The Colonel broke in immediately, in Spanish. “How was the training, Major de Borbon?”
The woman who had addressed me earlier answered promptly. “Excellent. The interface is intuitive, and quite clear. It all looks good in the demo. We’ll have to see how it performs live.” She had answered in English, quietly making it clear to the Colonel and the other staff, that speaking in Spanish provided no security. Sneaky little she-devil.
Damn me and my assumptions. Civilian? I almost really put my foot in it.
The Colonel continued, “And no problem with fitting in the extra trainees?”
“No. Senor Jack brought along extra materials, and we were able to work in teams. No problems.” She smiled at me, and I detected a solid steel frame underneath the pretty and gentle appearing exterior.
“They were a good crew.” I told the Colonel. “Some really sharp people in the group, and of course it was a delight to work with Captain Perez again.”
“So you see no problems with moving forward?” The Colonel asked.
“Not at all. I think it will be a pleasure to work with Senor Jack,” the Major answered.
I felt like I’d escaped the jaws of a Great White. It was fascinating to see how the men deferred to the judgement of the slender Spanish beauty. At first glance she seemed little more than a tall, attractive, modern Madrilena, but the power of her personality was quickly noticeable, particularly after spending a few moments around her. She was used to wielding power, a walking land-mine for our project. And I’d almost hit it with a sledge-hammer.
We begged off going out on the town, but we still ended up in the Officer’s Club for a few drinks before we could make our escape. The Colonel and the logistics officer monopolized Chris’s time, while I spent mine in discussion with Captain Perez and the Major.
With a few drinks in her, the Major didn’t seem quite so dastardly or standoffish. She was entertaining and well-traveled, and the conversation flowed easily. At one point I felt I had to thank her for the good words following the training.
“I spoke only the truth. I think you’ll learn this from me: I never lie when the truth would serve as good a purpose. The program looks very easy to use, transitions are sensible, and I could see no glaring faults. Two of your ‘trainees’ were not much brighter than a candle, and even they could manage the software. Pablo assures me he’s discussed the technical features in detail, and I trust his judgement.”
Pablo thanked her and gushed about the changes made, and the added features, and seemed genuinely excited to put the program in motion.
“I have to admit, I thought you were part of the civilian team.”
“I’m the liaison. Everything they do goes through me. So, in a way, I am part of the team. They are jealous; they believe they could have created the same features,” the Major explained.
Pablo laughed out loud. “In two years, maybe, at 20 times the cost. Nothing comes out of that group in less than 8 months.”
“It’s sad but true. I find it hard to believe you could pull this together in less than 3 months. How big is your team?” she asked.
“There are five of us writing code, and Chris manages the team,” I told her.
“Five? I would think a dozen. You work fast, Senor Jack! If only these contractors could perform half as well.”
“Thank you, Major. I have a good team.”
“Please, Jack. Ana Isabel is fine.”
“Then thank you, Ana Isabel.”