Chapter 8 - The Emergency Logistics Summit In Miami
By noon on Friday, the calm routine of the twenty-second floor was shattered by an urgent corporate crisis.
A severe hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico had shut down three major shipping ports in Florida, stranding eighty cargo containers.
The stalled containers held time-sensitive medical supplies bound for South American hospitals, risking millions in contract penalties.
Damian stood in the center of the conference room, surrounded by six anxious vice presidents shouting over speakerphones.
“We can’t reroute through Atlanta! The rail lines are completely jammed!” a vice president yelled, waving a paper manifest.
Damian held his hand up, his face grim, his mind racing through logistics options that were rapidly closing down.
Ren walked into the conference room, carrying a stack of fresh satellite weather maps and a logistics alternative layout.
She set the papers down in front of Damian, pointing her pen to a small private airfield near Fort Lauderdale.
“We don't use rail,” Ren stated firmly, drawing the entire room’s attention to her voice.
“We contract regional air-cargo charters out of Fort Lauderdale before the storm eye hits the coast tonight.”
“Air-cargo is three times the cost, Miss Ashby!” the VP snapped back dismissively. “The profit margin will be wiped out!”
“The profit margin doesn't matter if the contract is terminated for breach of delivery!” Ren shot back with cold authority.
Damian looked down at the satellite maps, then looked at Ren, a decisive spark lighting up his dark eyes.
“Prep the corporate jet, Priya,” Damian ordered, turning to his secretary at the door.
“Miss Ashby and I are flying to Miami in thirty minutes to oversee the charter transfers personally.”
Ren blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”
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Damian picked up his leather briefcase, walking past her toward the private executive elevator.
“You came up with the air-cargo route, Ren,” Damian said over his shoulder. “You’re coming to make sure it works.”
