Harry should've seen it coming.
When push comes to shove, nobody's on your side. They might call you family, raise a glass to your wins, or shake hands after closing a deal—but they'll bail the second things get rocky.
Mason showed that.
The guy who once had his back cut him loose with one phone call.
And that was okay.
Because now Harry Jackson could do what he wanted.
But freedom had a price. Cutting ties with Mason meant losing the web of connections linked to his dad's name. A name Harry never cared about—but it would've been nice to swipe its contact list before torching the place.
What Harry hoped—what he thought—was that his people would stick by him. After all, they didn't work for his old man. They worked for him. They did well because of him. He bumped up their pay, gave out bonuses, set them up with real offices, built careers.
So he took the gamble.
He decided to take a chance.
He made the announcement while standing in front of the open area of JTV's executive staff offices.
"I'm quitting JTV," Harry declared, his words piercing through the soft noise of typing and humming printers.
Everyone looked up.
Lisa reacted first moving away from her desk and blinking twice as if she hadn't heard right.
"You're doing what?"
Harry gave a brief tense smile. "I've already handed in my notice. It'll be final by the end of next month. I plan to launch my own TV network."
The room fell silent.
"I'm negotiating with Fox TV," he added. "Their viewership is dropping, and their investors aren't pleased. If all goes well, I'm taking over majority of their company."
Lisa spilled her coffee.
spilled it.
"Have you lost your mind?" she said in a mix of whisper and shout. "Do you realize how huge that is? You're buying Fox?"
Harry rested against the glass partition next to her desk and smiled. "I enjoy that expression on your face. It's worth a lot."
Lisa gripped her head. "It's not 'worth a lot.' It's a cardiac event."
Then came the real query—the test of allegiance.
"If I create a new venture," Harry said, "something more substantial and improved than JTV... will you all join me?"
The office traded unsure looks. Nobody budged.
Harry couldn't decide what stung more: Mason's disloyalty... or this prolonged resounding quiet.
And then—Lisa got to her feet.
"Count me in, chief," she said. "Before you arrived, I worked two shifts from a moist flat with faulty pipes. Now I live in a proper home. I take trips. I can buy quality undergarments. I support you."
Harry chuckled then his eyes widened.
One after another, voices chimed in.
The editor. The casting helper. The ad guy who once got them prohibited from a billboard for placing Bean's image over a beer advertisement.
One by one, they made their commitment.
Harry didn't cry often. But in that moment, he felt the sting behind his eyes. The type that hits you when you realize you didn't lose everything.
"You made me cry," he said with a chuckle, wiping his eyes. "Stop it. I'm going to look like a Disney princess."
But behind those proud eyes and swelling chest, a ticking countdown loomed in Harry's head.
He glanced at his calendar.
One week.
One week until the planes came.
The towers fell.
And America changed forever.
_____
Harry Jackson didn't sleep the night before.
He stayed glued to the screen in his Los Angeles condo. The glow of the television mixed with the pale light of his laptop. His Bloomberg Terminal blinked with premarket fluctuations. CNN, muted, showed talking heads discussing interest rates, tech stocks, and oil. Just another Tuesday.
Then, at 8:46 AM EST, everything changed.
The first plane hit the North Tower.
Seventeen minutes later, the second plane struck the South Tower.
For a few seconds, Harry forgot how to breathe.
The images didn't look real. Smoke poured out of skyscrapers. People screamed. Anchors stammered. Panic spread like wildfire. The markets froze. Then they fell. Then they shut down entirely.
The New York Stock Exchange never opened that day.
Neither did NASDAQ.
All trading was halted.
_____
September 12, 2001
America was grieving. Flags flew at half-mast. The airwaves were filled with tragedy and tributes. No commercials, no sitcoms, no late-night laughter.
Just sorrow.
While Harry canceled all his meetings to show respect, he kept watching the tickers. The markets remained closed for the rest of the week, marking the longest shutdown since 1933.
During those five days, the world changed.
Security measures increased. Travel restrictions were put in place. Oil prices surged. Airline stocks plummeted. Defense contractors saw a quiet interest behind the scenes. News networks became crucial again.
September 17, 2001 – Monday Morning
Markets reopened.
And the damage was historic.
The Dow Jones dropped 684 points.
Airline stocks, like American Airlines and United Airlines, fell nearly 40%.
Hotels, entertainment, cruise lines—anything connected to public travel—suffered greatly.
But others?
Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, Raytheon… They started to recover quickly.
And Harry's positions?
Perfectly timed.
He had shorted the airlines. Invested heavily in defense, logistics, and media.
Not because he wanted a tragedy.
But because he remembered what happened afterward.
By October 1st, Harry's $20 million investment had ballooned to $120 million on paper.
By November, after some careful selloffs and smart reinvestments, he reached his goal.
Harry Jackson became a billionaire.
John K. Murray called him from New York on a crackly line.
"Harry," the Schwab senior advisor said, "you're officially one of our top five clients now. Just thought you should know."
Harry didn't respond.
"Do you want to diversify into bonds? Properties? Offshore accounts?"
"No," Harry finally answered. "Not yet. I want to build now."
"You're a billionaire, Harry. You can retire today."