Chapter 64 - The Man Who Bought the Plant
Before they played Henry's cassette, Grant Trent made an offer.
Eastgate would contribute $900 million to cleanup.
In return:
Carter Global would assume all historical public communications.
No joint admission.
No reference to Eastgate's 2006 release.
Mutual releases.
Confidential allocation agreement.
Noah stared at the proposal.
“They want Carter to look guilty for everything.”
Eleanor nodded.
“In exchange for real money.”
“How much would Carter pay?”
“Potentially one-point-three to one-point-five billion.”
“Less than our worst-case.”
“Yes.”
“Why consider it?”
“Because certainty matters.”
Noah hated that certainty could be purchased by accepting a false story.
Lydia read the offer.
“Don't.”
Noah looked at her.
“You don't vote.”
“Neither do you.”
“Fair.”
Eleanor sighed.
“The board won't accept the confidentiality provision as written.”
“Good.”
“But they may negotiate.”
Noah looked at Grant's name.
He remembered Thomas's note.
He knows east trench exists.
Grant had not merely inherited a problem.
He had purchased a plant with knowledge of it.
Then allowed additional releases.
That was different.
Noah requested a direct meeting.
Grant agreed.
They met at a neutral law office.
Noah brought no Carter lawyers into the room.
Grant brought one.
“You wanted to speak personally.”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“Why did you buy Briar Glen?”
Grant smiled.
“For Eastgate.”
“No.”
Noah leaned back.
“Why that plant?”
“Cheap capacity.”
“How cheap?”
Grant's expression changed.
Noah continued.
“Forty percent below comparable facilities?”
Grant said nothing.
“You knew environmental risk reduced the price.”
“That was reflected in indemnities.”
“So yes.”
“Commercially, yes.”
Noah nodded.
“You bought the discount.”
Grant's jaw tightened.
“And Carter sold it.”
“Yes.”
“Your family took the money.”
“Yes.”
“Then don't sit here acting like Eastgate created history.”
“I don't.”
That stopped Grant.
Noah continued.
“Carter pays for Carter's contamination.”
“Eastgate pays for Eastgate's.”
“Briar Glen gets the truth about both.”
Grant smiled without humor.
“You're wealthy enough to enjoy clean principles.”
“I've heard that before.”
“Because it's true.”
“Maybe.”
Noah looked at him.
“But you're wealthy too.”
Grant's smile vanished.
“You don't want accountability.”
“You want allocation.”
“That's what lawyers are for.”
“And you're using legal allocation to buy public innocence.”
Grant leaned forward.
“My employees didn't pollute Briar Glen in 1985.”
“No.”
“Your family's employees did.”
“Yes.”
“My shareholders shouldn't pay for Henry Carter's choices.”
“No.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“Your company spilled again in 2006.”
Grant's face hardened.
“Disputed.”
“Your logs aren't.”
“You don't understand industrial operations.”
Noah smiled faintly.
“I understand buildings.”
“Foundations.”
“Loads.”
“And one rule translates well.”
“What?”
“If you discover rot under something you own, you don't get to call it the previous owner's problem while adding another floor.”
Grant stared.
Noah stood.
“No confidential history.”
“That is your line?”
“Yes.”
“You'd cost your trust hundreds of millions over a sentence in a press release?”
“No.”
Noah put on his coat.
“I'd cost my trust hundreds of millions to make sure the people paying for cleanup know why it's needed.”
Grant laughed.
“Your grandmother would have hated you.”
May you like
Noah looked back.
“I've been told.”
