The Westwood One boardroom sat high above the Manhattan skyline, its tall windows filtering in the hazy gold of late afternoon. A long mahogany table stretched through the center of the room, polished to a mirror's shine. Around it, five executives gathered — each with a leather binder, a black coffee, and decades of broadcast legacy weighing on their shoulders.
Howard Langston, Chairman of the Board, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. The room fell into quiet.
"Alright," he began, voice measured like a seasoned radio host. "We've all read the DoubleClick proposal. I want reactions. Straight and clear."
Dana Castillo, the sharp-eyed COO, was the first to speak. She tapped her pen twice against the contract summary.
"It's bold," she said. "They're not just selling software. They're selling a future. AdNova ET automates campaign planning across TV, radio, print — everything we touch. It means fewer hands fumbling with spreadsheets and more precision."
Glen Roberts, the CFO, gave a low grunt. "It also means paying a base license fee, a per-outlet support fee, optimization fees, and per-client engine access. That's before we even talk about joining their 'AdNova Alliance' — which includes a membership fee and revenue-sharing on partner-sourced campaigns."
Richie Yuen, the youngest in the room, leaned forward, eyes bright with belief.
"Come on, Glen. This is what the web's going to look like in five years. Real-time ad targeting, unified data — we'll never build this ourselves. And the 2% equity ask? It's insurance. If they succeed, we ride with them."
Langston steepled his fingers. "And if they don't?"
Roberts didn't hesitate. "There's a performance clause. If DoubleClick doesn't deliver measurable results — reach, revenue, ad placements — we can terminate the agreement. No penalties."
There was a pause. The city buzzed outside the windows, indifferent to the decision being made above it.
"Equity for access," Dana said softly. "It's a trade we've never made before. But we're not the same company we were ten years ago. We're not even the same company we were last year."
Teresa Mays, the board secretary, finally spoke — her voice calm, but final.
"They're not buying our airtime," she said. "They're asking to route power through us. If it works, we become the nervous system of national media — just like they said. That's a position no software vendor can just replicate."
Howard Langston turned his eyes toward the framed photo of the first Westwood One broadcast, hanging silently on the far wall. After a long moment, he nodded.
"Alright," he said. "Here's the motion: We approve the partnership with DoubleClick. We agree to license AdNova ET under the proposed fee structure and join the AdNova Alliance. We grant them 2% equity — contingent on performance deliverables — with full right of termination if goals aren't met by fiscal year-end."
He looked around the room.
"All in favor?"
Hands rose, one by one.
When the last vote came in, Langston smiled faintly.
"Motion passed."
He stood.
"Then let's prepare to wire the future."
After Westwood One agreed to the deal, shaking hands with cautious optimism, the ink had barely dried before the same debate ignited elsewhere. Across town, inside Gannett Company's towering boardroom, executives took their seats with folders marked "DoubleClick Proposal." Now, it was their turn to weigh the future — to decide whether they too would place a bet on this ambitious convergence of tech and media.
The boardroom of Gannett Company overlooked the Potomac River, its clean, modern lines reflecting the corporate confidence of a media empire that spanned coast to coast. Inside, a quiet tension hung in the air as the directors took their seats. Newspapers had always been their strength — printed ink, trusted headlines — but the tides were shifting, and every person in that room felt the current pulling at their legacy.
Jonathan Kessler, CEO and Chair of the Board, stood at the head of the table. Silver-haired and sharp-eyed, he held up the binder marked "DoubleClick Proposal — AdNova ET / Alliance Framework."
"We've all had the weekend to review it," he said. "Let's put it on the table. Who wants to start?"
Sarah Levinson, EVP of Strategy, tapped a red tab in her notes.
"They're offering a tech framework we desperately need. AdNova ET streamlines national ad buys across all channels. Print, TV, even our fledgling digital outlets. It would take us three years to build a tenth of this."
Peter Gold, Chief Counsel, was less enthusiastic. "It comes at a price. Base license fees. Outlet support fees. Optimization charges. And a 3% equity stake."
"Which is reasonable," said Vanessa Moreno, Chief Digital Officer. "For full integration and Alliance access? That equity might be cheap if DoubleClick delivers what they claim."
Peter frowned. "We'd also have to share revenue on campaigns sourced through their network. It's not insignificant."
"But that's the point," Levinson pushed back. "They're not selling us inventory. They're offering to route campaigns through us — to make us part of the infrastructure. Like being a toll road instead of a car."
Howard Muir, the oldest director, leaned forward slowly.
"Let me ask this — if we don't do this, what happens in five years?"
The room went quiet.
Sarah answered after a pause. "We fall behind. Worse — we get locked out. AdNova becomes the standard, and suddenly we're the ones begging for integration. This is a preemptive strike."
Jonathan Kessler exhaled slowly. He paced to the window, watching a barge push its way downriver.
"DoubleClick gets 3% equity," he said aloud. "But we get the engine that automates every ad buy we make — from Des Moines to Detroit. And if they fail to deliver, we terminate."
Vanessa added, "And if they succeed? We're the backbone of a new national network. AdNova ET powers us. The Alliance distributes us. We become not just media, but infrastructure."
Peter opened his mouth, hesitated, then nodded.
"Alright," Kessler said, turning back to the table. "Here's the motion: We approve the partnership with DoubleClick under the proposed fee and equity structure. We license AdNova ET and enter the AdNova Alliance. If they don't deliver measurable impact within 12 months, we exit clean. Otherwise—we help them change the map."
Hands went up, one after the other. A few hesitated — but none refused.
"All in favor: motion passed."
He closed the binder with finality.
"Then let's print tomorrow's story — today."
As Gannett's board cast their final vote and reached consensus, another storm was already brewing. High above Madison Avenue, inside the sleek, glass-lined offices of Interpublic Group, the most traditional and powerful of the three, a more skeptical audience prepared to convene. Here, numbers spoke louder than vision, and the road to agreement would be steeper. But the stakes were the same — and the opportunity, just as tempting.
The conference room at Interpublic Group was a fortress of polished glass and dark wood, perched high above the bustling city streets. There was an air of urgency here — not the frantic kind, but the kind that preceded a seismic shift. The board members were in their seats, faces set in concentration as the digital clock on the wall ticked down the minutes until the meeting began. This wasn't just another pitch; this was a decision that would define the future of their media empire.
Gary Hollingsworth, the Chairman of the Board, looked down at his tablet. His thumb scrolled slowly through the DoubleClick proposal. The room fell silent.
"Alright," Gary said, raising his eyes to meet the gaze of each director. "We've heard the pitch. But we all know it's never that simple. So let's talk about what's at stake. What are we really getting into here?"
Elena Navarro, EVP of Digital Strategy, shifted in her chair. She had been the most vocal advocate for the partnership with DoubleClick, but even she could sense the weight of the decision.
"First," Elena said, her voice calm but firm, "AdNova isn't just a platform. It's an ecosystem. They want to do what we've been talking about for years — converge TV, print, radio, and digital into one streamlined system. AdNova ET will power the most sophisticated ad buys in the industry."
She glanced at the other directors before continuing. "And with the Alliance membership? We'll have access to national campaigns — ones that we couldn't touch before. This is our ticket into becoming more than just a client-servicing agency."
Jared Moore, Chief Financial Officer, interjected. "And we're getting equity. 5% of DoubleClick's shares. That's a lot of weight in a company that could be heading straight for the stars."
"But it's a big if," said Arthur Chang, Chief Legal Officer. "What if the platform doesn't live up to the promises? What if we're locked into a contract that we can't get out of? Do we really want to be that exposed?"
Elena was quick to respond. "We've built entire media strategies on ifs, Arthur. There's risk, yes. But DoubleClick's already proven its ability to innovate. And with the performance guarantees in the contract, we can pull out if things go south."
The room quieted, and Gary took a deep breath. "We're not just buying a service. We're buying into a new way of doing business. The real question is — can we afford not to be part of this revolution?"
He walked over to the whiteboard and wrote down the two most important terms of the proposal: ET and SS.
"AdNova ET, the big enterprise brain. The 5% equity stake gives us a say, a seat at the table as this grows."
"And AdNova SS," Elena added, "is the future of small business. Thousands of small businesses across the country will be able to run campaigns with zero hassle, through a dashboard that makes advertising as easy as turning on the radio."
Gary turned back to the group. "We're not just buying into technology, we're becoming a cornerstone of the next generation of advertising. The industry is going to change, and we can either be part of it or get left behind."
"Here's my motion," he said, his voice steady. "We approve the partnership with DoubleClick, licensing AdNova ET and entering the AdNova Alliance. We'll accept the 5% equity, and we'll make sure the performance clauses are in place."
The boardroom was still. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then slowly, hands began to rise in approval, one by one.
Gary nodded, his face unreadable but satisfied. "Motion passed. We're in. Get the paperwork ready — we move forward tomorrow."