SIX MONTHS HAS ALREADY LAPSED:
And the café hadn't changed, that was the first thing Alfred noticed when he stepped inside. The same soft jazz drifted through the air like a quiet memory refusing to fade and the same warm amber lighting washed over polished wooden tables. The same quiet conversations floated beneath the hum of espresso machines and porcelain cups touching saucers. The same corner table Alfred liked still existed, the one no one ever used. It was like i did not exist. Alfred had sat at this table months ago wearing plain black clothes while strangers whispered behind their hands. Back then Alfred had nothing but an idea and capita but now he carried an empire to be inside his pocket.
Alfred Lancaster walked across the café calmly and took his usual seat near the window. Outside, Northern California sunlight filtered through drifting clouds, soft and golden, painting the street in quiet motion. Alfred retrieved his phone from his pocket and unlocked it. He immediately opened his financial dashboard and number appeared instantly.
Seventy billion dollars, that was what remained in the A.G.L Consortium corporate account. From the initial 310 billion he had transferred into the corporate account months earlier he had spend 240 billion on acquisitions that had formulated the bones of his operation. Six months of quiet construction had reshaped 240 billion dollars into something alive. The next step and the reason Alfred was meeting Vince at this café was because he no need executives and a chairman, people who would add flesh to the bones of his empire. Alfred already had two, Alice in Financial and Altair in Security buy he needed more.
After a while, Alfred opened his personal account next, this one had 190 billion dollars, cash. Capital that was just lying there with no use. Just a string of number after his name. His thumb hovered above the screen for only a second, before he decided to transfer 45 billion dollars to his corporate account after all, the executives he was going to hire needed capital to operate. Instantly, the company balance updated immediately, from 70 to a 115 billion dollars which was more than enough to be used as operational capital for now.
Alfred leaned back slightly in his chair, six months ago he had nothing but just some billion dollars till the day he realised money was useless unless it generated more money and power and today he was preparing to hire the people who would run his consortium while he focused on being a Ghost. While still consumed by thought, a shadow crossed the sunlight at his table, Vince arrived. The man wore the same coat and expression 80% of the time. He also never left the sharp eyes behind. What had only changed since Alfred met Vince on that dirt road in the jungle was Vince no longer looked like a lost man searching for purpose rather he looked alive again. Vince sat down across from Alfred without greeting the waiter. They exchanged greetings then delved straight into business.
"Are you ready for the next step Vince", Alfred asked with a grin but his grin was met with a look of intense, almost unnerving focus from Vince. The weary, smiling man who had walked into the café an hour ago had vanished. In his place sat a general surveying a battlefield.
"Right," Vince said, the single word sharp and decisive.
What happened next was a blur of efficiency that left Alfred speechless. Vince reached into his tweed jacket and pulled out not one, but two phones. One was a sleek, modern smartphone. The other was an old, battered-looking block phone that looked like it had survived a war, a burner phone. His thumbs became a whirlwind, flying across both screens simultaneously. He fired off a series of short, cryptic text messages.
"Activate Ghost." Then he put the burner phone to his ear, the call connecting instantly.
" Hank, It's me," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I need the complete personal information about the candidates you found for the executive professional vacancies I gave you. Cross-reference for loyalty, recent dismissal, those used as scapegoats, and preferred salaries. I want it in my inbox before my coffee gets cold."
He ended the call without saying goodbye, immediately dialling another number on his smartphone.
"Phil, it's Vince. I'm back. Pull my files from deep storage. And get me a list of every unattached, high-potential head-hunter in the I used to work with. I want résumés and salary expectations by five o'clock."
Click, he hung up then fired off another dozen texts. He took another call, speaking in what sounded like fluent Mandarin for about thirty seconds, then hung up again. The entire whirlwind of communication, a flurry of commands that set dozens of people into motion across the country, took no more than a minute. Alfred could only stare, his jaw practically on the table. The decision to make Vince his right hand was a good one. He had just witnessed a dormant machine of immense power roar back to life. This wasn't the man he met in the jungle six months ago. This was a puppeteer pulling strings he never knew existed.
Vince placed both phones face down on the table, the storm suddenly passing. He looked up at Alfred, his expression as calm as if he'd just been ordering another coffee. He picked up his now-lukewarm cup and took a thoughtful sip.
"Right then," he said, setting the cup down with a soft click. "Your foundation has been laid Ghost. Your machine is about to start," a pause, "As I said, it's about to start, but we need capable people. We're not looking for lions; we're looking to hire cubs with the potential to become one. The head hunters I have worked with will bring us those."
Alfred nodded slowly. His mind was still processing what he had just witnessed, Vince had networks, reach and his execution was flawless. Is this what a born a bread cartel consigliere operates. Vince wasn't just loyal. He was dangerous in the best possible way. Half an hour later, Vince's tablet vibrated. He picked it up immediately and opened a secure file. Then he slid the tablet across the table toward Alfred. The screen displayed ten faces as well as executive profiles.
"These are your primary options," Vince began, his tone all business. "First, Jessica Williams…"
He tapped the screen.
"She's thirty-two. Former Vice President of Operations at a mid-tier logistics optimization firm. Fired after a procurement scandal that internal audit later quietly buried. She wasn't guilty. She refused to sign off on inflated vendor contracts. They needed a scapegoat."
Vince moved to the next profile:
"Daniel Mercer, son of a former real estate mogual. Fathers company went under before he had graduated from college. Brilliant work rate, has an eye for property and management. Fired after resisting a hostile acquisition narrative from his board."
This one is good:
"Priya Suresh. Indian-American, top graduate in her college. Technology integration specialist. Removed after refusing to approve a cybersecurity downgrade that would have exposed client infrastructure."
We also have:
"Mary Ellery, she was a Media distribution executive. Has extensive experience and knows how to shape public opinion. Forced out after refusing editorial manipulation orders from investors."
There is him as well:
"Frank Boros. Straight out of Harvard as top graduate, has a good track record in every legal matter he has handled. Ruthless and decisive. Made partner in his previous firm but got dismissed during an internal restructuring purge".
Vince went on to explain the other five candidates just as well. After the finished he summarised everything for Alfred:
"These are all good candidates, the first five just got fired from their jobs for various reasons and scandals which are not true of course they are scapegoats. They are currently out of work which makes them easier to approach while the last five lack in many ways," Vince explained.
Alfred nodded slowly, then spoke calmly.
"Which means the first five want to prove their worth and will work hard to prove they did not do what they are accused of. They also happen to fit the five executive positions we have, hire them and offer 10 year contracts with confidentiality agreements. Sweeten the proposals i want them working for me."
Vince nodded once, already approving the decision internally. Then Alfred leaned closer toward the tablet, looked at the profiles again. There was now an eleventh profile the head hunter had sent. Alfred stopped and skimmed through the details then smiled:
"As for the chairman, Martin Antony seems a great fit. He has massive experience, is passionate, charismatic and possess top-class negotiation and litigation skill. His only drawback is that he is too nice. If he can be ruthless as you and me. He's the kind of chairman you make the face of a consortium. Though i wouldn't worry about his ruthless anymore, according to this report. The treatment he got from his previous employer should make him cold enough."
Vince took the table and studied the new profile,
NAME: Martin Antony.
AGE: forty-three.
INFO: Former multinational corporate negotiator and litigation strategist. A Boardroom stabilizer and is a public-trust magnet. Media-friendly as well as powerful communicator.
He was perfect, almost too perfect which made him useful. Vince nodded slowly, "Potential sleeping giant."
They spent the next hour refining contract structures. When everything finished Alfred leaned back slightly then spoke, "Initiate contact."
Vince nodded, "I'll have them report to A.G.L Business Complex."
Alfred stood slowly, collected his coat then paused, "One more thing." Vince looked up. "If Martin agrees," Alfred continued calmly, "arrange a meeting."
Vince frowned slightly, "You'll expose yourself."
Alfred smiled faintly, "I'll wear a mask and I'll change my voice. I'll speak in a deeper tone."
Vince stared at him for a moment, then slowly exhaled. "…Alright."
Alfred turned toward the exit, the café door opened and sunlight spilled across the floor again. Somewhere in Northern California five future executives were about to receive the most important call of their lives while one chairman was about to meet a ghost.