The first day of April 1940 was cold and gray. The mood inside the offices of Continental, however, was no longer one of defeat. It had been replaced by a different kind of energy. It was the sharp, cold, and quiet focus of a predator that has missed its first strike and is now changing its angle of attack.
The name on the door of the main office still said: ELIAS THORNE - PRESIDENT.
But Elias did not feel like a president. He felt like a conspirator.
He was sitting at his desk, but he was not reading The Wall Street Journal. He was reading a very dry, very thick book on Ohio's corporate law. He was doing exactly what Arthur had told him to do. He was preparing to buy a company.
The door opened, and Arthur Vance walked in. He did not knock. He never did. He placed a fresh cup of coffee on Elias's desk.
"Good morning, Elias," Arthur said.
"Arthur," Elias said, nodding. He pointed at the open book. "As you guessed, Ohio law is very straightforward for private acquisitions. As long as the board—which in a family company is probably just the owner and his wife—agrees to the sale, it can be done in a matter of days. It is a simple purchase of assets."
"Good," Arthur said. "We need to be fast. We only have until April 30th. That is the deadline Boeing is facing. That is our deadline, too."
Elias leaned back in his chair. He looked at the 18-year-old boy who was, in all but name, his boss.
"Before we go any further, Arthur," Elias said, his voice firm. "We need to be clear. I agreed to this. I agreed to this 'new angle.' But I am the one who will handle the acquisition. Not Julian. Me."
"That was always the plan," Arthur said. "You are the honest lawyer. You are the rescuer."
"And I will be," Elias said, his eyes hard. "I will not... crush... some small family business. I will not steal it. I will go to this target, whoever they are, and I will make a fair offer. I will pay their debts. I will secure their future. I will get them a price that is more than fair. Is that understood?"
This was Elias drawing his moral line.
Arthur nodded. "That is not just understood, Elias. It is required. We need this to be clean, fast, and quiet. The last thing we need is a lawsuit. We need the owner to be happy to sell. We need him to be grateful."
Elias relaxed. The boy was ruthless, but he was not stupid. "Good. As long as we are clear."
"Then we are," Arthur said. "As of today, you are officially the head of our new Mergers & Acquisitions Division. This will be your department."
He then looked toward the other side of the office, where Julian Graves was on the phone, yelling at a broker.
"Julian," Arthur said, "will remain the head of Capital Raising. His job is to manage the money inside the bank. And... to be the 'bad man' when we need one."
Elias sighed. "The 'merger' part of Mergers & Acquisitions."
"Exactly," Arthur said. "You, Elias, will buy the weapon. Julian will be the one to fire it."
Just then, the door to the office suite flew open. It was Walter Hayes, the head of Research. He looked like he had not slept in two days. His suit was rumpled, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were wide with the thrill of the hunt.
He was carrying a single, thick folder.
"Mr. Vance. Mr. Thorne," Walter said, his voice breathless. "I've got it."
Arthur and Elias looked at each other. They walked out of Elias's office and met Walter in the conference room. Julian Graves, sensing the moment, hung up his phone and joined them.
The four men stood around the table.
"You were right, Mr. Vance," Walter said, his hands shaking as he opened the folder. "You told us to find a bottleneck. We found one. It is perfect."
He laid out several documents. The first was a blueprint of the B-17.
"We started here," Walter said, tapping the paper. "We looked for any part that was specialized. The engines are Pratt & Whitney. Too big. The propellers are Hamilton Standard. Too big. The radios are Bendix. Too big. All of them are giant corporations. We cannot buy them."
"But," Walter said, "we looked at the supply chain. We looked at the small, third-party suppliers. And we found a weakness."
He pointed to the bottom of the plane diagram. "The landing gear. It's not a simple wheel. It is a massive, complex, hydraulic system. It has to be. It has to hold the weight of a 25-ton bomber. It requires a special kind of high-tensile steel, and the hydraulic pistons must be perfect, or they will collapse."
"Go on," Julian said, his eyes gleaming.
"Boeing does not make it," Walter said. "They are not engineers in that way. They are assemblers. They get the parts from other companies. And they get their landing gear from one place. A sole-source contract."
He laid down a second sheet of paper. It was a photograph of a small, dirty-looking factory.
"Axelrod Precision Machining," Walter said. "Dayton, Ohio."
"The owner is a man named Karl Axelrod," Walter continued, reading from his notes. "He is a German-American engineer. A genius. He invented this specific hydraulic system. He's the only man in the country who can make it to Boeing's standards."
"He's a genius," Arthur said, a small smile on his face. "But is he a good businessman?"
Walter looked up and smiled. "He is terrible at it."
He laid down the final document. It was a credit report.
"Axelrod's company is in deep, deep trouble. He put all his money into building the factory to win the Boeing contract. But Boeing has not paid him in six months. They owe him almost $80,000."
"But," Walter said, "he has his own debts. He owes $50,000 to the Dayton Trust & Savings Bank. And it's due... in two weeks. The bank is threatening to foreclose. To seize his factory, his machines, and his patents."
The room was silent. It was a perfect echo of Boeing's own situation. A bank was about to kill the company.
"He is trapped," Julian whispered, a predator's smile on his face. "Boeing can't pay him. He can't pay his bank. In two weeks, he is finished. His company is worth nothing."
Elias Thorne looked at the report with a different expression. He saw the human side. "My God. He is about to be destroyed because he did business with Boeing. He is the victim."
Arthur Vance picked up the credit report. He looked at the numbers. He looked at the photograph of the small factory.
This was the key. This was the back door. This was the leverage he had been looking for.
"Walter," Arthur said. "Good work. You have given us our path. Go back to your team. Tell them to find out everything they can about Karl Axelrod. His family, his habits, what he eats for breakfast. I want to know the man."
Walter nodded, energized. "Yes, sir." He gathered his papers and left.
The three men were left alone.
Julian Graves was practically vibrating. "This is it! We go to the Dayton bank. We buy the loan for pennies on the dollar! We take control! We foreclose! We... we..."
"We will do no such thing," Elias Thorne said.
Julian stopped, his face falling.
Elias looked at Arthur. "You gave me this department, Arthur. I am the Head of M&A. We will do this my way. The clean way."
Arthur just nodded, waiting.
"I am not going to the bank," Elias said. "I am going to the man. I am going to Karl Axelrod. I will not threaten him with foreclosure. I will save him from it."
He looked at the numbers. "The company is in debt. But it is not worthless. It has the patent. It has the machines. And it has the Boeing contract. It has value."
"What are you proposing?" Julian asked, annoyed.
"I am proposing a deal," Elias said. "A fair one. We will acquire 100% of Axelrod Precision Machining. We will give Mr. Axelrod a fair price for his company. We will pay him... say, $100,000 in cash. A fortune for a man who is about to have nothing. That is for his patent and his ownership."
"And," Elias continued, "we will, of course, pay off his $50,000 bank loan in full. And we will forgive Boeing's $80,000 debt to him. We will wipe his entire slate clean."
Julian did the math. "$230,000? To buy a tiny, failing factory?"
"To buy leverage," Arthur said quietly. "To buy the key. It is a bargain."
Elias nodded. "Mr. Axelrod is a ruined man. I will walk in and offer him $100,000 in cash, and I will make all his problems disappear. He will not just sell me his company. He will thank me for it."
"And what about him?" Julian asked. "Who runs the factory? We don't know how to make landing gear."
"He does," Elias said. "Part of the deal. We will give him a new, five-year contract. A very generous salary. He will be the President of the factory. He can go back to doing what he loves: being an engineer. He no longer has to worry about the books. We will worry about the books. He just has to build."
It was a brilliant plan. It was clean. It was legal. It was, in its own way, merciful. Karl Axelrod would be saved. He would be richer than he ever dreamed.
And he would be working for them.
"This is the acquisition," Arthur said. "This is how we buy the back door."
He looked at Elias. "MrS. Gable. Book Mr. Thorne a train ticket to Dayton, Ohio."
He turned to Julian. "And you... you start drafting a new proposal for The Boeing Company. Because as soon as Elias's deal is signed... you will be flying to Seattle."