Michael Moritz was clearly in no mood to keep playing golf.
With his mind in turmoil, he had already lost interest in the game. Sensing it, Bruce found an excuse and ended the not quite friendly round on the spot. After parting ways at the Ocean Course, each man headed off in his own direction.
Just as Moritz settled into the back seat of his car and closed his eyes, still turning Bruce's offer over in his mind, the phone in his pocket suddenly began to vibrate.
He glanced at the caller ID, frowned, and answered at once.
"Hello?"
"Michael, where are you right now?"
His deputy's anxious voice sent a wave of unease through him.
"Paul, calm down."
"To hell with calm. Just now, the firm shut down Fund III's bank account."
"What?"
The words hit him like a thunderclap.
His eyes flew open. In an instant, all of his composure vanished.
If the bank account for the fund he ran had been frozen, then it meant one thing. He and his team had effectively been suspended by Sequoia.
"Why? Does Don know?"
"Of course Don knows. He's the one who gave the order. As for the reason, those idiots are saying they need to limit the firm's exposure to the Nasdaq collapse."
"I'm on my way back now. We'll talk when I get there."
Michael Moritz's face had already gone cold.
"I'll wait for you. Michael, if this can't be fixed, I'm resigning. I'm done working with a bunch of people who have no vision and no understanding of the internet."
"I know. We'll talk in person."
He ended the call, then leaned forward.
"Carl, step on it. I need to get back to the office as fast as possible."
"Yes, sir."
The driver answered and pressed down on the accelerator. The black Toyota surged forward.
By the time Michael Moritz arrived at Sequoia's Silicon Valley office, the news had clearly already spread.
The moment he walked in, he could feel the weight of all the looks around him. Some were curious, some sympathetic, some cautious, and some simply waiting to see what would happen next.
"Michael!"
A middle-aged white man in jeans and a blue-and-white T-shirt hurried over from inside.
"Is Don in his office?"
Moritz nodded to him, his expression stern now that he had forced his emotions back under control.
"I just saw him go in."
The two walked together.
"All right, go back for now. Leave the rest to me."
They had reached the familiar door to the chairman's office. Moritz stopped and looked at the man beside him.
Paul hesitated, then lowered his voice.
"Michael, if they don't unfreeze the account, our whole Nasdaq downturn acquisition plan is dead."
Moritz turned and looked at him.
"Paul, I promise you this. The plan our team spent months building will not go to waste."
With that, he stepped forward and knocked.
"Come in."
The familiar voice from inside was calm and authoritative.
Moritz took a breath and pushed the door open.
Inside, Don Valentine was standing behind his desk. Impeccably dressed in a suit, his silver hair neatly combed back, gold-rimmed glasses resting on his nose, he looked every inch the old Silicon Valley grand master.
"Michael. I was just about to send for you."
Don smiled and motioned toward the sitting area.
"Sit."
Moritz nodded and crossed to the sofa.
"Something to drink?"
"The usual."
Don gave a slight nod. His secretary, Lauren, immediately brought over a mocha and placed it in front of Moritz.
"Thank you, Lauren."
She smiled politely and stepped aside.
Don sat opposite him.
"Judging from your expression, I'm guessing you already know about the board's decision."
Michael Moritz nodded. His face was still tight.
"Don, I've always respected you as one of the great investors in Silicon Valley. Are you really telling me you think the internet has no future?"
"No," Don said, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite. I think the future of the internet is very bright."
"Then why did you agree to freeze Fund III's account?"
"Michael, the board had no choice. If we hadn't done it, investors would have kept pulling out. They're tired of watching their assets slide day after day because of the Nasdaq collapse. If you were in their place, watching your fund balance shrink every week, you might want out too."
"That is not a real reason," Moritz said sharply. "In the last few years, Fund III's internet investments have made Sequoia more than enough to offset temporary withdrawals. Yahoo alone brought in billions. Doesn't any of that count?"
"I argued your side," Don replied. "The board still refused."
"You're the chairman."
"But I'm not the board."
Don's tone remained steady, and there was no sign of concession in him.
Moritz felt anger rise fast, but under it was something colder and worse.
Betrayal.
In that moment, the idea of controlling his own fate stopped being a vague wish and became something urgent and undeniable. The offer Bruce had made earlier, which he had still been weighing on the golf course, suddenly stopped feeling like a gamble and started feeling like a door.
He took a long breath.
When he exhaled, the anger had receded. Once he made the decision to leave, his fury actually eased.
That strange calm, however, unsettled Don.
He had wanted to use the Nasdaq crisis to discipline Michael Moritz a little, to curb his increasingly independent streak, but he had never wanted to drive out the man who had the sharpest eye for internet investing anywhere in the firm.
"Michael," Don said, leaning forward slightly, "freezing the account is only a temporary move. It calms the investors. We'll liquidate some of the less important internet holdings, reduce the risk, and once the Nasdaq stabilizes, the capital will be restored. Fund III will still be yours to run."
Moritz slowly rose to his feet.
"Don, I respect the board's decision. I've asked what I needed to ask. I won't take up any more of your time."
"Go home and rest a bit," Don said. "I'll keep pushing the board. I'll do my best to get the account reopened as soon as possible."
Moritz gave a small nod, lifted a hand in a casual wave, and turned to leave.
Don watched him go, his brows drawing together. He knew Michael well enough to know this was not the reaction of a man who had truly given up. Yet for the moment, he could not see what other move Michael might have left.
In the end, he let out a slow breath.
Give it a few days.
Outside, Paul was waiting the moment Moritz stepped out.
"Well?"
"They refused."
"Those bastards."
"Come on. Let's go back to our floor."
The two of them returned to Fund III's office area. More than twenty people from Moritz's team were gathered there, all watching him the second he entered.
He knew he had to say something.
"Go back to work for now. I'll keep fighting to get the account unfrozen as soon as possible."
The next words almost came out. He stopped them at the last second.
Until things with Bruce were fully settled, it was safer not to say anything about jumping ship.
He waved a hand instead and walked through the office into his own room.
Once inside, he shut the blinds, cutting off the hallway noise and the curious eyes outside. Then he took out his phone and made the call.
"Mr. Guo, I accept your offer. But I want to bring my team with me."
Once Michael Moritz made a decision, he did not hesitate.
Bruce's answer came immediately.
"No problem."
"I've already secured office space in Palo Alto. It's ready whenever you and your team are."
There was genuine feeling in Moritz's voice now.
"Thank you."
Bruce's support at exactly the right moment had made a deep impression.
"You're welcome," Bruce said. "Once things settle down on your side, I'll take you back out for another round."
They spoke only a little longer before hanging up.
Bruce set the phone down with a satisfied smile.
"Done."
Wendy Solo looked at him from across the room.
"Boss, was one Michael Moritz really worth all of that? You personally went out to recruit him, offered him that kind of package, and even set up a whole venture firm around him."
Bruce leaned back slightly.
"Of course he's worth it. Wendy, top-tier talent is rare."
There was a trace of feeling in his voice, but also something unreadable.
Being reborn had not only given Bruce a chance to seize future business opportunities. It had also given him the chance to identify and recruit people who could make those opportunities matter on a much larger scale.
Michael Moritz was one of those people. A top-tier talent in venture capital. Someone worth real effort and real cost.
And there was another reason too.
Bruce's advantage only stretched so far into the future. If he did not want his companies to start drifting into mediocrity once that edge ran out, then he needed to begin gathering the best people in every industry now.
Michael Moritz was only the first.
He would not be the last.
He looked at Wendy.
"You've done excellent work lately."
"Thank you, Boss."
Bruce nodded.
"Once we finish taking the Google shares from Sequoia, I'm going to restructure the office around me. I want a formal Chairman's Office, with separate teams under it: executive assistants, mergers and acquisitions, legal, strategic advisory, and information research. George will head legal. As for you, you have two options. You can either lead the executive assistant side or take charge of M and A."
Wendy hesitated.
"Boss, can I have a few days to think about it?"
"Of course. I'm not building this overnight. Take a little time. Just don't drag it out too long."
"I understand. Thank you."
Bruce gave a small nod.
"Get back to work."
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