The New Syllabus Ch 6

Corporate Counter-Strike

The flight back from Vancouver had been a rare window of peace for Steve and Janet Sanders, but the Los Angeles smog had barely cleared the windows of their town car before reality crashed back in. For the last five years, expanding Sanders Tang Soo Do into a dominant West Coast franchise had been their entire lives, transforming Steve from a former frat-boy promoter into a surprisingly disciplined martial arts mogul.

Janet was typing furiously on her tablet, her sharp eyes scanning an urgent memo that had bypassed her assistant and landed directly in her personal inbox.

"Steve, we have a problem," Janet said, her voice dropping into the no-nonsense tone she used when managing their corporate expansion. "That was Chancellor Andrews. The Board of Trustees is in a total panic over the California University plaza riots. Kelly Taylor was the one who demanded the university ban Jasper and Annie Vance from campus in the first place. But the administration caved to the student protests and let them back on, so Kelly completely pulled her sponsorship in protest. As head of the Alumni Association, the Chancellor says you either need to get her back on board or find a replacement sponsor by tomorrow morning."

Steve groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Kelly? Come on. If she walked away over them caving to the Vance kids, she’s never coming back. I can't just sponsor it myself—the conflict of interest alone with our martial arts studios would have the board’s lawyers breathing down my neck." He tapped his chin, thinking fast. "What about David? Silver Media Group has the capital."

"Can't," Janet replied, not looking up from her screen. "Erin Silver is personally representing Jasper Vance's media campaign. If David puts up the money, it looks like the alumni association is taking sides with the protesters. It’s a public relations nightmare."

Steve frowned, pulling out his iPhone. "Alright. If we need deep pockets, outside the university bubble, and someone who loves a tax write-off... I know exactly who to call."

He hit FaceTime, and after three rings, the rugged, sun-drenched face of Noah Hunter filled the screen. Noah was lounging on what looked like the deck of a private yacht, a Bluetooth earpiece firmly lodged in his ear.

"Sanders!" Noah grinned. "Tell me you're calling from a golf course."

"I wish, buddy. I need a massive favor," Steve said, leaning into the camera. "CU is falling apart. Kelly pulled her funding because the school caved to the protesters, and the alumni board needs a new major corporate sponsor to steady the ship. Hunter Oil has the clout to pull this off. What do you say?"

Noah chuckled, leaning back. "Honestly? The timing is perfect. Hunter Oil has been looking for a major philanthropic pivot in Southern California to smooth over some environmental press. Consider it done. I'll authorize the baseline funding today." Noah adjusted his sunglasses. "But we need to look over the contract. Meet me at Pruitt's in an hour."

Steve blinked. "Pruitt's? As in... Ray Pruit?"

"The very same," Noah said. "When TGI Fridays started going under nationwide, Ray swooped in, bought up a dozen of their prime LA locations, and flipped them into upscale steakhouses. Trust me, Steve, they have the best ribeye in Los Angeles right now."

"I don't know, Noah," Steve muttered, a flash of mid-90s drama crossing his mind. "I'm not sure about that guy."

"It's just business, Steve. See you there." Noah hung up.

Meanwhile, across town at Mercedes-Benz of Van Nuys, the pristine peace of Kelly Taylor’s afternoon didn't last. The moment the internal press release flashed on her tablet, announcing Hunter Oil as the new primary benefactor of California University, her blood ran cold.

To the public, it looked like a standard corporate rescue to save the school after she walked away. To Kelly, it was a declaration of war. An old-money oil conglomerate swooping in to fund the institution meant they were going to bankroll and support the very movement she just tried to destroy.

Furious, her fingers flew across her phone screen. She bypassed Brandon, bypassed the board, and went straight to the source. She fired off an urgent, encrypted alert directly to the student opposition network that was fighting against Jasper and Annie Vance's presence on campus.

“Follow the money,” Kelly typed, her jaw clenched as she stared out at the valley traffic. “The university didn’t just welcome them back. Evil Hunter Oil is officially behind the curtain, funding the so-called movement to keep them here. Expose them.”

With one tap of her finger, Kelly sent the message, effectively pouring rocket fuel onto an already raging fire.