Leonard continued. “And that’s after taxes.”
A few hushed whispers now rose through the room, including one person who said, quite audibly, “Bullshit.”
Leonard locked eyes with the speaker, a bald, black guy in his early thirties. “Two point three after taxes, that’s, what, four million before Uncle Sam takes his cut? You’re telling us you went from being broke-ass on the street to making seven figures after taxes in two years? In this economy?”
Leonard nodded. “Welcome to the new America,” he said.
“How?” Chubby said, suddenly springing to life.
“How,” Leonard said, rubbing his chin as though debating the question. “That’s the key. How. And I’m guessing not just how, but how can you do it, too. That’s kind of a multipart answer. And let me tell you this. If you aren’t comfortable with the first part, you won’t be right for the rest of it. Ready? Here goes. You will make money.
You will also file a W-2. You will do everything a good taxpaying citizen of this great country does, including paying state and federal income tax…only what you will be doing to earn that money will not be legal.”
“The money is illegal?” Nikesh said.
“Money itself is never illegal,” Leonard said. “It’s how you obtain it that determines the legality.”
“So what will we be doing, exactly, that determines the legality?” the black guy said.
“It’s actually very similar to what you’ve all done throughout your entire adult lives,” Leonard said. “What is finance? What is the stock market? It’s a drug. It’s gambling. It’s doing something that feels so right, that can change your mood, change your mind, change your outlook on things. Just like a drug, the stock market can either expand your mind, or make you lose it. It all depends on who’s doing it and how responsible they are.
You’re all pretty responsible guys, it’s not your fault you found yourself on the sole of God’s shoe. So you’ll be doing exactly what you’ve done, and what you’re good at. Selling people things that make them feel good.”
“Drugs,” Morgan said.
Leonard cocked his head. “That’s right.”
Nikesh said, “I don’t understand. If you sell drugs, how can you file taxes on it?”
“That’s for us to know and you not to worry about.
Once you come on board you’ll file your taxes just like anyone, and through our company, 718 Enterprises, you’ll be just like that waitress on the corner. Nobody looks at her tax return, and nobody will give yours a second glance either.”
“What do we need to do?” Nikesh said.
“Simple. Every morning, you will arrive at a predetermined location at eight o’clock. You will be given different items in different quantities. You will dress the same way you did today-like a businessman. You will carry on you a cell phone that will be given to you on your first day of work. Throughout your shift, you will receive calls on your cell phone, alerting you to the location of your next customer. We will also tell you what the customer requires, and how much. You will go to the customer’s location, exchange money for goods just like anyone, and leave. At the end of each day, you go home. Eighthour days. None of the ten, twelve, fourteen-hour crap you’re used to. The next morning you’ll come back, drop off all the money you received the previous day, fill up your bags and start again. The faster you are, the more runs you’ll be given throughout the day, the more money you will make. Those of you who prove that they can handle a lot of runs will be promoted to later shifts. More action, more money. At the beginning you will work with a partner. This is for trust. You are your partner’s eyes, and vice versa. But you are also our watchman.”
“Watchman?” Chubby asked.
“This business is built on trust,” Leonard said. “Because of the sensitive nature of our business, we cannot take risks. We thoroughly check out every single person before we bring them here. We know everything about you. Your background, your families, brothers, sisters.
Your son, Greg.”
The black guy swallowed.
“If you do your job, you will make money. If you decide you do not want to continue, that is your prerogative, provided you give us the customary two weeks’ notice. But if you decide that you suddenly want to, say, alert anyone outside of our employ as to your job activities, you will be reprimanded. Severely. There are no second chances, no third strikes. You are not in kindergarten. If you make your bed, you lay in it, and your first offense is a punishable one.”
“Punishable by what?” Morgan asked.
Leonard stopped. Looked at Morgan. “Let’s hope I never have to answer that question for you.” Morgan said nothing. “If you agree to be a part of our company, you will start this Monday. You each came here with a sponsor, and that sponsor will call you Friday night with the location where you refill and drop off your merchandise and money. Work that starts Saturday morning. Yes,
Saturday. Your sponsor put their reputation on the line bringing you here. Don’t embarrass them. In a short time, we will be starting an initiative that has the potential to bring in even more revenue than I’ve already discussed.
But you only get to be a part of it if you start now. So if you want to be a part of our organization,” Leonard said,
“stay seated. If you decide this is not right for you, I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
Nobody moved. Chubby had forgotten all about his cuff links. Nikesh was absently rubbing his back pocket, where his wallet was surely kept. Greg looked at the table, briefly, considering the offer, then looked right back up at Leonard. His eyes said that he was in.
Morgan did not move. The money seemed too good to be true, but he knew Ken Tsang had fallen on hard times and had gotten out of it. And if things didn’t work, he could always quit. But the opportunity was too good to pass up. This was Morgan’s way back in the game.
Suddenly a chair squeaked. Everyone turned to the back of the room to see a short, balding man stand up.
He waved his hands, as though trying to explain a crime he hadn’t committed.
“I…I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do this.”
Leonard tilted his head, a look on his face like a parent who’s been disappointed by a child they’ve put so much effort into. “Jeremy, are you sure?” Leonard said.
“I-I’m sure. I can’t be a part of this.” He moved to the back door, still wringing his hands.
“You’ve disappointed us,” Leonard said, motioning to the rest of the room, still riveted to their seats. “One last time, Jeremy. Stay. You heard what I said to everyone about our rules.”
“I know, I…I heard you, but…I’m sorry, but I have to go. Good luck, guys,” Jeremy said, and he reached for the door.
“Good luck, and farewell, Jeremy,” Leonard said.
Then, lightning quick, Leonard reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. And before Morgan even knew what was happening, a crack echoed throughout the room, and Jeremy’s head erupted in a spray of fine pink mist.
The dead man’s body slid to the floor, leaving a grotesque red trail from the gaping wound in his skull.
Morgan recoiled, nearly tipping back in his seat, and when he righted himself he shivered when he realized that the conference room was dead quiet. The eyes that had bugged out of their sockets were now growing accustomed to the violence that had just taken place. The heads slowly began to swivel from the body back to Leonard.
He watched them do this, a look of apathy, a look of simple that’s what happens on his face. Morgan recognized that face. He knew the emotions. He couldn’t help but smile when he realized who it reminded him of. His old boss.
“There will be no dissent,” Leonard said. “There will be no second-guessing, and there will be no turning back.
Every one of you came here for one reason, and that’s to regain some of the respect you had for yourselves. Jeremy did not have this self-respect, and now he’s dead. But before you start thinking to yourselves that I’m some kind of monster, let me tell you that if Jeremy had stayed, like every one of you is going to stay, you will make every penny you did at your old jobs. There will be no layoffs, no cutbacks, no downsizing. If anything, your earnings will grow at a faster rate than they ever could while you sat in some wretched cubicle or soulless office. We will be introducing a new product in the next few days that promises to help you erase all those debts. Keep making those mortgage payments. Keep driving that Lexus, keep that sweet Russian girlfriend who wants to spend five grand a month at Chanel. You’ll have all of that-and enough just in case you want to throw a dime on the football games on Sunday. Now, you can either take Jeremy’s way out, the coward’s way out, or you can get back to work and stay the man you were supposed to be. So, men, are you in, or are you worthless?”