The Backup Asset

…21

Back in his own office, Bob McLeod closed the office door gently and immediately leaned against it, staring at the ceiling and letting out a long sigh.

“Motherfucker…” he whispered.

He loosened his tie a little, not leaving the support offered by the door. It was unbelievable… He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that no matter what he did, he never got promoted.

He had joined Walcott eight years before, as technical director for Navy installations, and he was still technical director for the same Navy installations. He had a top-notch record of accomplishments, yet it was always people like Baxter who were the vice presidents, while he was being forgotten in the director role. What did Baxter have that he didn’t?

Project after project after project, they were all the same routine. Yes, bring in the invaluable Bob McLeod to do the work for us, spend his days on and off ships of all sorts, moored all over the place. This way, he can enjoy the cold, humidity, and oblivion, as far from corporate headquarters as possible for yet another year or so, while people like Baxter become senior vice presidents, climbing the ladder on the fruits of his labor. How did Baxter even become a VP? He seemed to have had that role for a while… Was he born a fucking VP?

No matter how hard Bob tried, he couldn’t figure out why he was repeatedly assigned on projects as lead, but never promoted. His career had been at a standstill since the day he entered the corporate headquarters of Walcott Global Technologies, a thick, impenetrable glass ceiling keeping him from advancing. Even his applauded patents didn’t make much of a difference; for the most impressive one he had received a ten-thousand dollar bonus, then nothing. No mention of it again. And he knew for sure that patent was worth many millions for his employer.

If things didn’t change, if a miracle didn’t happen soon, he would probably end up retiring as technical director, having effectively killed his career by waiting on these people to recognize his value and promote him. He still had a good twenty years until retirement, but at this pace, yeah, he’d still be a technical director at that point.

Bob McLeod was one of the best electrical engineers in the country. He’d graduated from MIT, second in his class. Then he had decided to pursue a career in defense technologies. He felt his work should have meaning, help a great cause. And for what? Probably any of the Silicon Valley mediocrities, carrying bachelor degrees from dubious Midwestern online universities, made twice his pay, and climbed the corporate ladder every two years so that he wouldn’t go work for the competition. Huh! How infuriating.

He had been lured by the glamour of a worthy cause, by the thought of doing his job in the service of his country, but he felt he was taken advantage of. Simply put, he had bet his career on the wrong horse.