"The bridge lender calls the loan Monday morning. They've got a confession of judgment on file. Mr. Whitmore signed it to get the bridge financing. They'll seize the operating accounts, foreclose on the four properties held as collateral, and liquidate."
"The company's gone by end of next week. Personal guarantees come into play after that." He glanced at Ethan. "The houses, the cars, the personal accounts, all pledged, all gone."
Ethan made a small sound. "And the 62 employees?" Travis asked. "Severance is unfunded. They get whatever's left after the secured creditors, which is nothing."
"They lose their jobs and their last two paychecks." Daniel paused. "It's a hard landing for them. They didn't do anything wrong."
Travis nodded slowly. He'd known all this. He'd known it riding through the desert. But he wanted Ethan to hear it out loud, in front of witnesses, in plain English.
"So here's where we are," Travis said. "If I walk away, you lose everything, which I won't pretend I'd lose sleep over. But 62 people who never insulted me, who never even met me, lose everything, too."
"And I would lose sleep over that. I've been one of those 62 people. I've gotten the call that says, 'Don't come in Monday. There's no Monday.'"
He looked at the Harley. "So I'm not going to punish them for your sins. That's not justice. That's just me being as careless with people's lives as you've been."
A flicker of hope crossed Ethan's face. "But I'm also not going to hand you back the keys to a company so you can do it all over again," Travis continued. "So here's what's going to happen. And it's not a negotiation."
"You don't get to counter. You nod, or you walk into the fire Monday morning." "Anything," Ethan breathed. "Anything. Yes."
"I'm going to sign it," Travis said. "Reed Capital acquires Whitmore Holdings. The employees keep their jobs, every one of them. And the 11 you laid off last spring get offered their jobs back at a raise."
"The buildings stay. The company survives." He let that hang for one second, just long enough for relief to start flooding Ethan's face, and then he took it away. "And you, Ethan, are out."
"Completely out. You don't run it. You don't sit on the board. You don't have an office."