The War In His Mind

Chapter 32

The world was a giant pile of money. That's how Isiah saw it. Everywhere he looked there was an opportunity to make an extra dollar. A child begging his parent for a treat? Easily a dollar. A grown man needing his beard trimmed? Twelve fifty and a personal tax levied on the tip. Though he started his enterprises crafting and selling weapons, he had found a world of possibilities in creating great solutions for various problems. It's all about vision, he told those who asked him how he was so successful. It was about finding the best way to fix whatever pain the peasants beneath him suffered from. And not the physical, hurtful kind of pain. It was the kind of pain that someone would, and can, pay to get rid of. Hunger. Boredom. A broken pipe in a house. All of that was pain. All of that pain was profit.

Maybe it was natural to see the pain of others as a beautiful thing. After all- he lined his pockets off of the suffering of others. Through the months of serving various clients and earning the hard earned dollars of his customers, he never once expected to service a particular kind of customer. The kind that can line not only his pockets, but the walls of his entire empire, in hard cash.

It was a simple note, enclosed in an envelope with a seal in the shape of a giant "O." It was framed with an ornate border. It was a light cream color. It was a thicker, fancier type of paper then he was used to. The very first thought he had was to find the source and acquire the material to sell in Uptown. Surely there would be such a demand for elegance.

He opened the letter and reclined in his large chair.

"Dear Isiah,

As an admirer of your work and and an aspiring empire builder myself, and a self proclaimed artist, let me be the first to congratulate you on your massive success. How do you build such wonderful businesses? I don't mean to flatter, I only mean to wonder how such a feat is possible. Such a mighty man as yourself deserves more praise in society. Where would our fledgling army be without you?

As much as I admire you, that's not why I'm writing to you. Surely a man like yourself, intelligent with an eye for creating wealth, knows a grand idea when he sees one. I believe I might have stumbled upon something that would catch your interest. I don't mean to be a tease, but for security purposes, it's best we meet in person at a place where very few people would over hear us. I'll be inside the train station at three forty one this afternoon, if you care to grow your empire.

I'll see you soon.

-O"

It was compelling. A mystery figure offering praises of Isaiah- something he admitted he didn't get enough of, caught his eye. But it was this mystery proposal that drew him in. His mind raced with ideas of what it could be. He imagined hundreds of vastly different businesses being spawned from communications, to travel, and even high tech weaponry that hadn't been invented yet. The excitement shut out any fear or doubt. There was no place for weakness in business. It was all about taking risks.

He stood on the platform as if he was waiting for a train to pick him up. He was wearing a brown hat and had a trench coat on over his suit. He had to fight the desire to light a cigarette. It would be rude business practices to meet someone for the first time and breath smoke into their face. He thought about Israel and their meeting just days ago. If there was one thing he regretted, it was how he treated the man with indignity. In reality, he respected Israel. He was a tough negotiator and a hell of a soothsayer. It was a shame he was gone.

Isaiah looked over his shoulder and frowned. He expected anybody with savvy business sense to be on time. Lateness was not a good sign for a potential partner. As he turned around, a large black figure meet him face to face. Isaiah's heart sunk and fear shot all of his blood down to his feet. The figure grabbed him. It pulled him towards the door that lead to Downtown.