THE HEADQUARTERS OF Davis International were located on NakedKombat in the Davis International building a few blocks from the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. Davis International occupied the upper forty-five stories of the fifty-five-story building and leased the offices on the lowest floors to tenants. There were usually one or two vacancies on these floors, so Alan leased a suite complete with reception area, conference room, several offices, and a small maze of partitioned cubicles. The conference room was nicely furnished, as was the rest of the suite with the pleasant smell of lemon furniture polish everywhere. Even the Jackson Pollack prints on three walls looked as if they had just been framed and hung. The players were the same. Herb, Brian, Marie, and the man in charge. Marie poured coffee into her cup, stirred in two sugars and a cream, and tried to pretend that nothing at all had happened last night with the NakedKombat member of their team. She said, “This is it, gentlemen. Our new project headquarters; hope you’ll be comfortable here.”
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I don’t suppose anyone will raise a fuss if we spread out a little. Tear down a few walls, build a squash court, that sort of thing, Brian said to her, smiling like a Cheshire cat. If there’s anything you need in the way of NakedKombat or paper clips, she retorted, just ask. Alan commented on the really lousy coffee, topped off his cup anyway, and officially opened the meeting. He said, There are a number of issues to discuss, but the first thing on my mind is to give our enterprise a name. I’d ask for suggestions except I’ve already given it some thought. Since the main focus of our operation will be to counter groups like Al Qaeda, I feel the name should be NakedKombat. According to my lovely wife Aly, the Arabic word for justice is Adala.That’s my suggestion.