Chương 50: The End of March III

Tuesday, March 23, 1971 10: 03 a. m. Chairman's Office Thompson Manufacturing Brooklyn, New York Tuesday morning was progressing normally. The factory floor was as busy as ever. Project Horizon production continued without interruption. Pallets of hiking backpacks and work jackets moved steadily toward the loading docks while workers prepared another shipment for retailers throughout New York. Inside the Chairman's office... Enzo was reviewing production reports.

Anthony was organizing several Vendetta Investments legal files. James sat quietly reading the business pages of the New York Herald. Suddenly... The telephone rang. Enzo reached for the receiver.

"Enzo Lombardi speaking." A familiar voice answered.

"Good morning, Mr. Lombardi."

"This is Mr. Whitmore from Empire National Bank." Enzo smiled.

"Good morning, Mr. Whitmore."

"I assume you have an update."

"I do."

Anthony immediately stopped writing. James folded the newspaper and looked toward his grandfather. Mr. Whitmore continued.

"I'm pleased to inform you that the wire transfer authorized last Friday has completed processing."

"The funds have officially been credited to the Vendetta Investments corporate account." Enzo nodded.

"Excellent."

"I've also confirmed the updated balance."

"As of this morning..."

"The Vendetta Investments corporate account now holds three hundred twelve thousand dollars." A satisfied smile appeared on Enzo's face.

"Thank you, Mr. Whitmore."

"My pleasure, Mr. Lombardi."

"If there's anything else we can assist you with regarding either Thompson Manufacturing or Vendetta Investments, please let us know."

"We certainly will."

"Have a good day."

"You too." Enzo gently returned the receiver to its cradle.

Anthony looked up immediately.

"So?" Enzo smiled.

"The transfer is complete."

"Vendetta's balance is now..." He looked toward both Anthony and James.

"... three hundred twelve thousand dollars." Anthony nodded with satisfaction.

"I'll update our internal books." He pulled a ledger toward himself and carefully wrote the new figures. Vendetta Investments Previous Balance: $172, 000 Operation No. 2 (London): Net Profit (after taxes and Thomas Reynolds' agreed compensation): +$140, 000 Current Balance: $312, 000 Anthony closed the ledger.

"Done." Everything matched. The bank reflected the completed transfer. Vendetta's internal accounting reflected the operation's final profit after all expenses, taxes, and Thomas Reynolds' compensation had already been deducted.

James stood and walked toward the office window overlooking the factory floor. Six hundred Thompson Manufacturing employees continued their work, unaware that another important milestone had just been reached. Without turning around, he spoke quietly.

"Three hundred twelve thousand dollars..." Enzo joined him at the window.

"A respectable amount." James nodded.

"It gives us room to think." Anthony smiled as he placed the ledger back inside his briefcase.

"And room to invest." Enzo folded his hands behind his back.

"The London operation is officially finished." James smiled faintly.

"Which means..."

"... our attention now turns entirely to the Las Vegas operation." Neither Enzo nor Anthony argued. Because by now... Every completed operation simply became the foundation for the next one. 》 Thursday, March 25, 1971 12: 48 p. m. Las Vegas Metropolitan Airport Las Vegas, Nevada After several days in California following the itinerary prepared by Vendetta Investments... Michael Donovan and Robert Ellis finally landed in Las Vegas.

The aircraft taxied toward the terminal as the Nevada sun illuminated the endless desert surrounding the city. For both men... This was their first visit to Las Vegas. Neither had imagined they would ever come here on business. Especially not on behalf of an investment company they knew so little about.

Inside the terminal... Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The warm desert air immediately replaced the cooler cabin temperature. Michael adjusted his jacket.

"I wasn't expecting it to be this warm." Robert smiled faintly.

"It's certainly different from New York." Neither man carried much luggage. Just a single suitcase each. Exactly as instructed. Outside the terminal... A taxi line waited. Michael looked toward Robert.

"The Silver Star Hotel?" Robert nodded.

"That's what the itinerary says." Within minutes... The taxi pulled away from Las Vegas Metropolitan Airport, heading toward the famous Strip.

1: 37 p. m. Silver Star Hotel Las Vegas The Silver Star Hotel stood proudly among the growing casinos and hotels lining Las Vegas Boulevard. The lobby buzzed with activity. Tourists. Business travelers. Casino guests. Bellhops moved luggage across polished marble floors while piano music drifted softly through the building. Michael approached the reception desk. The receptionist smiled.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"I believe you have reservations." Michael handed over the confirmation prepared by Vendetta Investments. The receptionist reviewed the documents.

"Yes..."

"Two separate rooms." She handed each man a key.

"Rooms 624 and 631."

"I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you."

After leaving their luggage upstairs... The two men met again in the lobby. Neither spoke much. They both knew the real reason they had come to Las Vegas was about to begin. Michael looked at his watch.

"Mr. Lombardi's instructions." Robert nodded.

"We don't go together." Michael smiled.

"Exactly."

"I'll leave first." Robert remained seated.

"I'll wait."

2: 18 p. m. Stardawn Sportsbook Las Vegas The Stardawn Sportsbook was busy that afternoon. Large odds boards covered one wall. Cashiers worked steadily behind polished betting windows. Television screens displayed sporting events and racing results from around the country. Michael entered alone. Just as Enzo had instructed. He didn't hesitate. He calmly walked toward an open betting window. The clerk smiled politely.

"What can I do for you today, sir?" Michael quietly removed a folded sheet of paper from his wallet. It contained the exact wager Enzo had instructed him to place. Not a word more. Not a word less. He slid it across the counter. The clerk reviewed it. Entered the wager into the terminal. Confirmed the amount. Michael counted the cash exactly as instructed. Moments later... The clerk handed him an official betting ticket. Michael carefully examined it. Everything matched. He folded it once.

Placed it inside the inner pocket of his jacket. Thanked the clerk. And calmly walked out of the sportsbook. His entire visit had lasted less than ten minutes. Exactly as planned.

2: 51 p. m. More than thirty minutes later... Robert Ellis entered the Stardawn Sportsbook. He approached a different betting window. Different clerk. Different line. He followed precisely the same instructions. The same wager. The same amount. The same calm demeanor. Within minutes... His betting ticket rested safely inside his wallet. He left without attracting the slightest attention.

3: 18 p. m. Silver Star Hotel Back at the hotel... The two men met briefly in the lobby. Neither asked what had happened. Neither asked about the amount. Neither asked whether everything had gone smoothly. There was no need. Enzo's instructions had been clear before they left New York. Never discuss the operation in public. Even inside the hotel... They simply exchanged a brief nod. Michael smiled.

"Everything taken care of?" Robert returned the smile.

"It is." Michael nodded.

"So is mine." That was all. No further conversation was necessary. The most important part of the assignment... Had already been completed. Now... All that remained... Was waiting. 》 Sunday, March 28, 1971 11: 42 a. m. Silver Star Hotel Las Vegas Sunday morning arrived quietly. Michael Donovan had already finished breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Across the room... Robert Ellis slowly folded the Las Vegas Daily Chronicle after reading the morning headlines. Neither man appeared nervous.

But both occasionally glanced toward the large clock hanging above the lobby. Today... Their assignment would either end successfully... Or it wouldn't. There was nothing more they could do. The wager had already been placed. Now... Everything depended on the game.

2: 55 p. m. The two men walked together toward the Stardawn Sportsbook. As instructed... They entered separately. Robert stopped outside for a minute to study one of the display windows while Michael walked inside first. Several minutes later... Robert followed. Inside... The sportsbook was considerably busier than it had been three days earlier. Rows of chairs faced dozens of television screens. Waitresses carried drinks between customers.

Large chalkboards displayed the afternoon's sporting events and betting lines. One game... Captured almost everyone's attention. NBA Playoffs Chicago Stallions vs. Los Angeles Stars The Los Angeles Stars had entered the afternoon as overwhelming favorites. Most bettors expected an easy victory. Several men near the front of the room confidently discussed how many points Los Angeles would win by. Michael quietly found a seat near the back. Robert sat several rows away. Neither acknowledged the other.

Exactly as instructed.

3: 07 p. m. The game tipped off. At first... Everything unfolded exactly as most people expected. Los Angeles played confidently. Their crowd roared after every basket. One bettor laughed.

"This'll be over before halftime." Several others agreed. Michael remained expressionless. He simply watched.

By the end of the first quarter... Something unexpected happened. Chicago wasn't falling behind. They were matching every possession. The sportsbook gradually became quieter. Robert noticed several bettors beginning to frown.

Halftime. Los Angeles led only narrowly. The conversations had changed. One man muttered,"They're just having an off half."

"They'll pull away." Another nodded confidently.

"They always do." Michael quietly folded his arms. He said nothing.

Fourth Quarter The atmosphere inside the sportsbook became tense. Chicago suddenly began making shot after shot. Los Angeles started missing opportunities. Turnovers increased. The home crowd shown on television had grown noticeably quieter. Inside the sportsbook... So had everyone else. One bettor slammed his fist against the armrest.

"Come on!" Another stared silently at the screen. Robert's heartbeat slowly increased. Not because he doubted the outcome... But because he finally realized... Mr. Lombardi had known.

With less than two minutes remaining... Chicago extended its lead. The television commentator could barely hide his surprise.

"If this result holds..."

"It'll be one of the biggest playoff upsets we've seen in years." The sportsbook became almost completely silent.

The final buzzer sounded. Chicago Stallions 106 Los Angeles Stars 98 For nearly three seconds... Nobody inside the sportsbook moved. Then... The room exploded. Some bettors shouted in disbelief. Others cursed loudly. Several crumpled losing tickets before throwing them toward nearby trash bins. One elderly man simply shook his head.

"I've been betting twenty years..."

"I never saw this coming."

Michael quietly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. His betting ticket remained exactly where he had placed it. Untouched. Robert did the same several rows away. Neither smiled. Neither celebrated. They had been instructed not to draw attention. But inside... Both men finally understood why Enzo Lombardi had been so confident.

Michael slowly stood. He walked calmly toward the exit. Several minutes later... Robert followed. Outside... The warm Nevada air greeted them once again. They met several storefronts away from the sportsbook. Michael looked toward Robert. Without mentioning the score... Without mentioning the amount... He asked only one question.

"Everything all right?" Robert nodded once.

"It is." Michael smiled faintly.

"So is mine." That was enough. Tomorrow morning... They would begin the final stage of their assignment. Returning to New York. And starting the banking process that would deliver another major victory... For Vendetta Investments. 》 Monday, March 29, 1971 9: 18 a. m. Stardawn Sportsbook Las Vegas Monday morning arrived with far less excitement than the previous afternoon. The surprise victory by the Chicago Stallions over the Los Angeles Stars remained the biggest topic inside the sportsbook.

Newspapers lying on nearby tables all carried similar headlines. PLAYOFF SHOCKER. STALLIONS STUN LOS ANGELES. Michael Donovan entered the Stardawn Sportsbook first. Just as Enzo had instructed. He approached a different cashier than the one who had accepted his wager four days earlier. He quietly produced his winning betting ticket. The cashier carefully examined it before disappearing into a back office. Several minutes later... He returned carrying another employee. After verifying Michael's identification...

The cashier smiled.

"Congratulations, sir." He placed a certified cashier's check on the counter. Michael carefully examined every detail. Everything matched. He thanked the cashier. Placed the check safely inside a document envelope. Then, calmly walked out of the sportsbook.

11: 02 a. m. Nearly two hours later... Robert Ellis entered. Different time. Different cashier. Exactly as planned. His own betting ticket went through the same verification process. Moments later... A second certified cashier's check rested safely inside his envelope. Another successful operation. Neither employee had crossed paths inside the sportsbook. Exactly as Anthony had planned.

Monday, March 29, 1971 4: 48 p. m. Manhattan Metropolitan Airport New York After an afternoon flight aboard Atlantic Continental Airways... The aircraft landed smoothly in New York. Michael and Robert collected their luggage separately. Outside the terminal... A Thompson Manufacturing corporate sedan already waited. The driver greeted them politely.

"Welcome back, gentlemen." The ride back to Manhattan passed quietly. Both men were tired. Their assignment had lasted more than a week. Now... Only one final step remained.

Tuesday, March 30, 1971 9: 11 a. m. Chairman's Office Thompson Manufacturing Michael and Robert sat across from Enzo and Anthony. Each placed a sealed document envelope on the chairman's desk. Anthony opened the first. Inside rested the certified cashier's check. He carefully reviewed every detail. Then, I opened the second. Perfect. Both checks had been issued correctly. Anthony smiled.

"Gentlemen..."

"You've completed your assignment exactly as instructed." Enzo nodded proudly.

"You represented Thompson Manufacturing and Vendetta Investments with professionalism." Michael smiled modestly.

"It was an honor, Mr. Lombardi." Robert simply nodded.

"We're glad everything worked." Enzo stood.

"Then let's finish the final step."

10: 02 a. m. Empire National Bank Commercial Banking Department Richard Bennett welcomed the group into his office.

"Mr. Lombardi."

"Mr. Russo." He shook hands with both before turning toward the employees.

"And you must be Mr. Donovan..."

"... and Mr. Ellis." Both men introduced themselves. Richard smiled.

"I've already prepared the necessary documentation." Anthony nodded approvingly. Always prepared.

Several folders rested neatly on Richard's desk.

"The first step..." He explained.

"... is opening individual checking accounts for both gentlemen." Michael and Robert each presented identification. Richard completed the paperwork carefully. Signatures were collected. Account numbers assigned. Checkbooks would be mailed within a few days. Everything proceeded efficiently.

Once both accounts officially existed... Richard turned toward the cashier's checks.

"We'll now begin the deposit process." He carefully accepted both certified checks. Each was verified. Stamped. Recorded. Entered into the bank's processing system. Richard looked toward the two employees.

"The deposits have officially been accepted."

"Once the checks complete clearing..."

"The funds will become available in your respective checking accounts." Anthony smiled.

"Excellent." Richard continued.

"As before..."

"Once the funds have cleared..."

"You'll be able to authorize the transfer according to the instructions already prepared." Enzo nodded.

"Exactly as planned." The second operation had now reached the same stage as Thomas Reynolds' assignment only days earlier. Everything remained orderly. Legal. Documented.

Meanwhile... Tuesday, March 30, 1971 Seattle, Washington Pike Place Market The morning air carried the familiar scent of saltwater drifting in from Elliott Bay. Workers opened storefronts one by one. Customers slowly filled the famous market. Among them... A modest new storefront prepared to welcome its very first customers. Above the entrance... A freshly painted wooden sign read: Evergreen Coffee & Tea Company Inside... Jonathan Bradley. Steven Grant. And Gregory Bowman.

Looked around the small shop almost in disbelief. Months of planning... Negotiations... Construction... And preparation... Had finally led to this morning. Jonathan unlocked the front door.

"We're open."

Unlike the coffee shops people would know decades later... Evergreen Coffee & Tea Company sold no prepared drinks. No espresso. No cappuccino. No lattes. Instead... Wooden shelves displayed carefully arranged bags of premium whole-bean coffee. Glass jars filled with imported teas. Shelves of spices. Coffee grinders. French presses. Pour-over kettles. Coffee filters. Brewing equipment. Everything is needed for customers to prepare exceptional coffee at home.

Gregory quietly looked around the store.

"It's exactly how we imagined it." Steven smiled.

"And thanks to Vendetta's investment..."

"We never had to cut corners." Jonathan nodded.

"The additional capital changed everything." Instead of opening with only minimal inventory... They had been able to purchase substantially larger coffee bean shipments. Additional tea varieties. Higher-quality coffee-making equipment. Improved shelving. A better point-of-sale counter. They had also hired additional employees before opening day... Allowing the store to operate smoothly from the very beginning. Most importantly... Every outstanding supplier invoice had already been paid.

There was no immediate financial pressure.

Jonathan reviewed the latest figures one final time.

"The original investment covered everything we needed." He smiled.

"And after inventory purchases..."

"Employee hiring..."

"Equipment..."

"Store preparation..."

"And our outstanding bills..."

"We still have approximately twenty thousand dollars remaining as working capital." Gregory let out a slow breath.

"That's a comfortable position." Steven nodded.

"It gives us room to grow instead of simply surviving." Jonathan looked once more at the front door as the first customer stepped inside. Quietly... He thought about the silent investor thousands of miles away. Vendetta Investments. The company that believed in Evergreen Coffee & Tea Company before almost anyone else. And somewhere in New York... Neither Enzo nor James knew it yet... But their 40% ownership in that small Seattle coffee business...

Would eventually become one of the greatest investments Vendetta Investments would ever make. End of Arc 4