Chapter 4

Chapter 4 in Price of Knowledge

Present Day

 

It was the early morning. Dawn was just beginning to creep along the streets and alleyways that littered the downtown area of Phoenix. It was a city that took advantage of its location and landscape, the quilted patchwork of buildings that surrounded the central business sector carried with them wear and tear that was indicative of anything left out in the dreadful heat of the desert sun.

It was not your typical portrait of a city but rather a jumbled cheap imitation of the original, slapped onto a backdrop of black velvet usually reserved for tributes to the King of Rock. These icebergs of industry floated along the sea of asphalt that made up this area and, near the peak of the most massive tower, rested the office of Enlightened Solutions.

The Tower was a magnificent structure. It stood guard over the Valley and allowed for breathtaking views of the White Tank Mountains during both the morning and evening hours. One of the benefits of living in Phoenix, outside of the generous tax breaks, was the view of the sun, whether setting or, in this case, rising.

It was a painting that only nature could ever brush, washing the sky with an innumerable amount of colors, finding hues that most would not even be able to imagine, and allowing those fingers of light and shade to stretch along the open sky in a warm embrace.

It was to this scenic view that Sam exited the elevator doors. He acknowledged that canvas behind him for only the briefest of seconds with a quick shift of his eyes and then he moved swiftly towards his office, his daily routine, and to her.

Most Executive Assistants would wait for their boss to pass by before getting up to tail behind in subservience but not her. She was up and out of her leather chair the instant the elevator opened, not even needing a glance to ensure that it was indeed Sam exiting as their routine was so well-rehearsed in its day-to-day pattern.

This was the thread that bound them, being creatures of habit, finding the efficiency that could be had in refining routine until it became a reflex, and she was quite possibly even a bit more efficient in this than he.

Sadashi Koizumi, known to Sam and anyone significant enough to earn the privilege, as Dash was nothing less than an ‘Office Ninja.' The aura of professionalism that surrounded her affected the environment, transforming every piece of furniture, down to the particles of dust into her willing soldiers.

She was the uranium core of order which fueled this nuclear plant of success. Though more important than her work ethic and sense of organization, was the level of trust Sam placed in her hands, one which she had rightfully earned over the past four years.

The most deceptive aspect of her was that of her physical appearance. Dash knew that she was a beautiful woman and felt no need to hide that fact in order to gain a foothold in the male-dominated business world she operated within and neither did she try to overtly twist that advantage to climb any undeserved rungs.

Her attire rested on the razor's edge of class and attraction. To the untrained eye, she would provide a distraction that would give her a controlled advantage and, to those trained, an acknowledged appreciation for her crafting. Her legs were toned, flawlessly smooth, and unnaturally mesmerizing. The length of them ended only by the edge of her skirt and was placed at just the right height to accentuate those two winding pillars of chiseled flesh.

She did not wear pants, but her clothes still reflected the dominance of personality which she could snap forth for anyone that thought she was merely placed out front as mere eye candy. Dash wore her hair in a high tight ponytail, the thick sea of black pulled together in one solid form, and not even one strand was willing to disobey her will to threaten a distraction.

Small, green, narrow eyes darted across the information that was streaming across the tablet attached to her forearm by a sleek Velcro sleeve. Her horn-rimmed glasses reflected a quick glimpse of the dawn as Sam neared.

Midway on the path to his office they met. She turned on her heel in a straightforward motion with no need for pleasantries, matching his stride.

Dash was direct and to the point; it was her own version of Hello. "Three meetings on your docket today. I've spread them apart by three hours as per usual, the most important with Mr. Fraiser from Delta Wide regarding the closing details of that acquisition. This will finalize the day so you can be at your best. There is a slight concern over the upcoming merger with Expedition and how it will affect that deal."

Sam nodded and strode past her desk with Dash at his side. She was as fluid as mercury, never breaking rhythm or substituting grace for speed as they walked side by side to his office. Control and execution were in every step that she took and, even more, was the impressive display of agility in her fingers as they flew across the screen of her tablet, dancing like three tiny ballerinas across a stage.

Sam opened the door to his office as they entered, leaving the rising sun behind them for the exchange of false light within this cave which he called home for the vast majority of the day. There were two reasons for such an act with the simpler of the two that it was the proper thing to do.

A man of any level of class and dignity knew that he did not need doors opened for him when he was capable of doing that simple act himself. There was meaning in that, a habit that extended beyond the physical action to a mental one as well.

The other reason for doing as much was a show of respect for Dash. Most men would see her, be entranced by the shell of her exterior, and attempt to place her as a trophy on their mantle, a meaningless notch on the bedpost; and with other women of even lesser beauty, this was often the case with Sam but not when it came to her.

With Dash, there was a far more significant depth to who she was, a splendor that set her apart from all of those hollow conquests that filled his nights. He respected her as a professional and even more so as a person.
Now that he was in his sanctuary, he felt a calm begin to settle his agitation although his stomach dared to remind him that such comfort could easily be lost as he pressed forward to his desk. It was set in front of a giant panel of glass that gave a clear view of the endless sea of desert that was Phoenix outside.

The sky began to turn a bright blue as the sun reached up over the opposite side of the Tower. In the front of the room, an L-shaped desk built from solid wood with hues of blood red streaking the chocolate brown waited for Sam.

A second, smaller table sat behind it. On the main one were three giant computer screens, ones that most people would gladly use for home entertainment but for Sam, those behemoths were pools from which he could gaze on the multitude of trends circulating the globe; his own personal Oracle.

With financial markets being as systemic as they were, it was paramount that he knew what was trending in specific locales and markets. These would affect the industry as a whole. Pebbles in a pond.

A small twitch of a smile threatened to sneak out of the side of his mouth as he ran his fingers along the top of the larger of the two desks, the day’s parlay about to begin. Today is the day I have her, he thought to himself as he sat down in his plush leather chair. Sam cocked his head slightly as he typed in some commands on the backlit ergonomic keyboard in front of him to bring all three screens to life. "No coffee tod. . ." he began.

But before the words could escape his mouth entirely, she had already pointed to the desk behind him. Sam turned and noticed in the back corner of it a cup resting nearly hidden next to a stack of files.

"Freshly pressed and, more importantly, double-brewed so you can be fully attentive to the research on the large corporate bond issues dominating secondary markets. HARD COPIES." The last words almost pained her to say. “I know you are leaning anti-bank so this will be big for helping the smaller firms who don’t have the clout to wrestle legislation.”

Sam gathered up the stack and the coffee, moved them to his primary desk and began to offer a second query.

She cut him off again. "Top drawer," her fingers moved across her tablet, and she swiped some files toward his screen, sending the information to the forefront of the nearest monitor.

He opened the top drawer of his desk and saw the small container of green liquid as well as the bottle of antacids. He shook his head and, as compact as the motion was, he knew that she had seen it.

"Wait an hour…" she began.

"After the pills. I remember. It wasn't that bad of a night that I would make that mistake again."

She cocked her head, almost mechanically, remembering the situation as if he had clicked on a file in her memory and it was now loading. She nodded three times and carried on unfazed.

Sam tapped his keyboard and began sorting through online files and calendars. He stopped and dared a look in her direction.

"Third drawer down on the left, color-coded by buying importance and by section. Mr. Ueda brought an interesting offer, but I believe there are a few inconsistencies with his numbers and those that he is presenting," she stated.

"I can call… "

She laid down a thin manila folder on the desk. “Yamada-san has already obtained the true financials, and I've highlighted the overtures for your review. His analysis fits his namesake was all that he would say.”

Sam shook his head more in amazement than frustration. He would find victory, but it would not be today. "One day I will stump you, Dash."

"Perhaps," she offered him in consolation.

He bowed his head in an acceptance of defeat and said, "Fair enough."

Sam sipped his coffee. Perfection, warming not only his mouth but his whole body, yet not hot enough to burn. The precision of such a feat spoke volumes of the woman before him with her brilliance and care all wrapped into that simple beverage of heated water and steeped beans.

The caffeine was a welcome companion after his dealings with the repercussions of the previous night, and with the importance of the possible merger with Expedition Holdings upcoming, he needed all of his wits about him.

It was a move that could reshape his life, but it was not one he was entirely sure he should make. Indecision was not something that usually entered his mind within the four walls that he currently occupied but, like a giant pink elephant, it lingered in the corner, and he needed to address it. He set his coffee down, placed both hands on the desk, turned to face Dash directly and looked deep into her eyes.

She stepped slightly back, shaken a bit by this change to his regular routine and demeanor.

"Dash?" he ventured.

"What's wrong?" she answered, genuinely concerned about his question. She wondered where her failure in the day’s tasks had occurred but his next words dismissed those thoughts as fast as they had arrived in her mind.

"What do you think of this likely merger with Expedition?"

Her hand danced along the tablet, and she began to calculate the information and possibilities all in one deep breath before speaking. "Financially, the decision is sound for both…"

He grabbed hold of her arm which held the tablet and pulled it down. This action truly threw her but only for a moment. His voice and poise grounded the unfamiliarity of the situation. "No, I need to know what YOU think. Not about the numbers, just at your core. Where do you stand?"

Dash blinked her eyes in a very deliberate and slow way, looked out of the windows and then back at him. She removed her glasses, placed them down and took a seat at the nearest chair by his main desk.

She tilted her head merely a degree or two and spoke in a slower softer tone, emotion reflected in her words. "Mr. Santorini. . .Sam, look at all you've done with Enlightened since you've been on board. In four years, you've taken us from a small investment firm to one that manages multimillion-dollar hedge funds. You've taken countless risks, merged with Haden, Bouse National, and Jeffries when most people would have balked at such decisions.

“Through those mergers, we were not only able to increase our own profit margin by thirty-two percent, but we were able to boost the net profitability of each of those companies by eight percent or better. How many jobs did those decisions save? How many hundreds more were created through the same decisions? That doesn't even take into consideration the nonprofit companies we've been able to fund because of the success of your decisions. Look at the relief efforts in New Orleans alone.”

"Our decisions," he corrected.

"No Sam, your decisions. Now there is an opportunity to become part of Expedition; a multinational corporation of that size in which you'd have the leverage to rise up their ladder as surely as you grew this company into what it is today. If they are even half of what our research indicates, it will be a substantial investment. You have to consider the amount of real change you could impact upon the world by making this deal a reality. This is the merger of a lifetime.”

Sam smiled. This was why he had such admiration for this woman. She would never want to take credit for the progress they have made with Enlightened Solutions over the last four years, but she was just as vital to its success as he was. She was indeed his right hand. "Thank you, Dash."

She reached over, grabbed her glasses and put them back on. Dash nodded, "Anything else, Sir?" The courtesy and professionalism falling back around her like a familiar coat as she spoke.

"No. Thank you for everything."

She shook a finger at him pointing toward the vial, "An hour."

"An hour! There won't be a repeat, for both our sakes," he said holding it up to examine.

She nodded, rose up, began tapping on her tablet once more and exited the room allowing Sam to start his day. Their routine.
Sam’s hands immediately found a home on the keyboard, initializing a number of sequenced codes that would open different scripts along each of the screens. One of the main reasons that Enlightened had seen such an exponential growth over the past four years was Sam's innate ability to not only multitask but also to process large quantities of information in a short period of time.

He saw patterns, consequences, and solutions while millions of small threads of information were pulled apart and rewoven within the matrix of his mind to create an idea of possible future decisions.

It was now time for samples of those threads of information to stream across the three screens in front of him. There was always a strange familiarity of seeing the events of the day unfolding before him as countless new stories popped up on his screen.

Throughout the ages, philosophers and poets alike have commented and cautioned about the nature of history repeating itself, but it was astounding to see the sheer beauty of those patterns that life and time could lay out. Sam relished getting enveloped in that process, one of the few things he could ground himself in during the last four years.

His own history was lost to him and only the collection of these last four years were open for review. His mind threatened to drift off to the dream from last night. The lurch of his stomach jerked him back to the present. The new information he was loading into his mind was now processing, and his eyes looked at the clock on the computer.
An hour had passed since he had begun. His body was familiar enough with this dance that he was able to run it automatically, opening and closing multiple windows of opportunity, much like the world markets themselves.

It was also time to risk a hit of the green liquid which Dash had given him. He had dared to question the contents of the ingredients within the glass container the first time she provided him with it, but Dash knew better than to disclose such a mystery, maintaining a level of safety for its use and anonymity of contents. She had made the bargain that the secret was the cost of providing such a fix; a cost that was well worth the price considering the effectiveness and overall results.

Sam unscrewed the lid, tapped the glass quickly on the edge of his desk hastily and slammed the green sludge down his throat. It did not matter how many times he had repeated this process; the taste was utterly repulsive. Always like swallowing warm cat s**t that had been resting on the hood of an old El Camino all day, he cringed as much at the thought as of the taste.

His body shuddered from head to toe, froze for a second, and then returned to a static state of non-revulsion. He breathed deeply then released a heavy breath that exhaled the last of the previous night’s poison and refocused on the task at hand.

He clicked on his video conferencing app and selected Daniel, the head of his trading desk. The short, fat, balding man in front of him looked all the part of his position. The stress of the markets taking their toll on both his hairline and shape but he lived for the challenge of the trade as well as breaking records of energy drink and peanut butter cup consumption.

Sam took the next few minutes explaining instructions for the day’s trades and holds especially the soon-to-be volatile morning session in the American market. Once everything was in order, Sam returned to the rest of his routine, scanning through countless emails, reading the ones he knew held the most importance, and filing the rest.

He stopped at midday to have a quick workout and a small lunch, using the time to get his cardio in and center his thoughts. There was an absolute peace in the physicality of pushing his body, an art that focused his spirit and mind into one cohesive unit.

Some of his best decisions were made during these midday sessions with his adrenaline high. Today, however, he found it difficult to find that center as flashes of last night's dream stabbed their way into his thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside no matter how hard he struggled.

When Sam returned to his office, the back end of the day began to fly by. His meeting with Yamada-san had given him better insight into Expedition Holdings. "If there is a McDonald's you can be sure that you will find a subsidiary of Expedition close behind," was the one thing he said that stood out most clearly to Sam.

The balance of the hours was filled with placing the sorted data from previous information outlets into logical terms and filtering those numbers through a series of algorithms he had previously installed on his computer.

While it processed, Sam did his own calculations as well, using not only his mind to compute the variables but also instinct to adjust them in slightest of ways. Then, as the computer provided results, he compared them to his own and altered his plans which were then communicated to his people as the market closed.

Exactly as that last message was sent, Dash popped up on one of his monitors to let him know that Mr. Fraiser from Delta Wide was ready for their meeting but was unable to be there in person. Sam nodded and thanked her, but she knew that he was not happy with the change of schedule. Still, he had a responsibility and would fulfill it, never letting Fraiser directly sense his angst.

Sam took out the stack of papers and opened the video conference as it flashed on his screen. His pen moved along the documents as smoothly as the words flowed from his mouth. His eyes only occasionally found the need to sneak their way down to the reports, the information already stored in the forefront of his mind, allowing the rest of his thoughts to stray while he spoke, never causing a stumble.

Sam made sure to explain the benefits of the impending merger with Expedition to Frasier, noting explicitly that the terms for the acquisition of Delta Wide would stand as is, also ensuring him of the potential and profits to be gained in relation to Enlightened’s new position in an expanded market. Frazier smiled and thanked Sam several times before he ended the conference.

He shook his head ever so slightly knowing that it was necessary to speak with Frazier about such concerns but unable to relate to the man's lack of understanding of the global implications of Expedition’s future. That bean counter had no drive…only laser focus of fine print and bottom lines, Sam thought to himself as he realized that his hand was doodling on the reports and moving of its own accord.

He looked down to see what it had created, and his heart suddenly sank, not out of sadness or terror, but rather out of a daunting understanding of where his unconscious mind was once again drifting off to.

On the corner of the page amid the sea of doodles was one vibrant, singular symbol. A pair of triangles that pointed to the top and bottom of the paper connected by a cross, the top a solid black and the bottom open.

They were housed in a circle, and small streams ran out to its edges from the center of the cross forming an X of some sort. Sam tore the corner of the report off and tucked it into his breast pocket as he closed down his workstation. He needed to make sense of everything. He needed to talk to her. He needed to go.