The "usual place" was a defunct industrial space in Red Hook, Brooklyn, one of David's earliest acquisitions, purchased through a maze of shell companies. From the outside, it looked abandoned, another casualty of the borough's boom-and-bust cycles. Inside, it was something else entirely.
David arrived early, as always. The massive warehouse space had been carefully renovated, transformed into a hybrid workshop, meeting hall, and operations center. Exposed brick walls had been reinforced with steel beams, standard enough, but David's touch made them substantially stronger than engineering alone would explain. The open floor plan could be reconfigured quickly: tonight it hosted a circle of mismatched chairs around a large table cobbled together from reclaimed materials.
Sustainability and practicality were core values here. Nothing flashy. Nothing that attracted attention.
Marcus Webb was already there, which didn't surprise David. The man was constitutionally incapable of being late. He stood by one of the tall windows, his six-foot-three frame silhouetted against the dying light filtering through grime-covered glass. Even in civilian clothes, cargo pants and a faded Ranger t-shirt, Marcus carried himself like a soldier.
"David." Marcus turned, his dark eyes assessing, always assessing. Three years working together, and the man still checked his corners like he was in Kandahar.
"Marcus." David set down his messenger bag. "Everyone confirmed?"
"Sarah's running fifteen minutes late, some crisis at the lab. Everyone else is en route." Marcus moved to the table, his gait still favoring his left leg slightly. Souvenir from an IED in 2008, compounded by medical neglect after his discharge. "You want to tell me what this is about? Your message said it was important."
"It is. But I'll wait until everyone's here. No sense repeating myself."
Marcus grunted, accepting this. That was one of the things David valued about the man, he didn't need constant explanation or validation. He trusted David's judgment, a trust earned through consistent action over empty promises.
The others arrived in clusters over the next twenty minutes. James Wilson, looking uncomfortable outside his usual Wall Street environment, his tailored suit jacket swapped for a v-neck sweater that screamed "business casual trying too hard." Isabella Torres, still in her work clothes from the community center, her graying hair pulled back in a practical bun. Sofia Chen, young enough to be carded everywhere despite being twenty-six, laptop bag over her shoulder and vintage band t-shirt that probably cost more than David's entire outfit.
Sarah Kim was indeed fifteen minutes late, bursting through the door with characteristic energy, her lab coat hastily stuffed into her bag. "Sorry, sorry! One of the junior researchers contaminated a sample and, never mind, it's handled. Are we starting?"
"We are now." David gestured for everyone to sit.
There were eleven people total, filling most of the chairs. Eleven people he'd carefully vetted and recruited over three years. Eleven people who represented the foundation, both literally and metaphorically, of everything he was trying to build.
"Thank you all for coming," David began, standing at the head of the table. "I know we're all busy, and some of you had to rearrange your lives to be here tonight. I promise this isn't a social call."
"Is it ever?" Sofia quipped, but her fingers were already flying across her laptop keyboard, taking notes.
David allowed himself a small smile. "Fair point. I'll get to it: we've spent three years building something together. The Foundation for Urban Development has completed nine major projects, employed over two hundred people, and established a presence in four boroughs. We've done good work, real, tangible good that's improved lives."
Nods around the table. They'd all seen it firsthand.
"But that was always Phase One," David continued. "Testing our model. Proving we could work together. Building relationships and resources. Now it's time to talk about what comes next."
"Phase Two," Marcus said, leaning forward. "You've been hinting at this for months."
"Phase Two is expansion. Not just in scope, but in purpose." David pulled up a map on the portable projector he'd set up earlier. New York City appeared on the wall, dotted with markers. "These are our current projects and properties. Nineteen locations total, concentrated in Brooklyn and Queens, with a few in the Bronx."
He clicked to the next slide. The map was covered in markers now, hundreds of them, spreading across all five boroughs and beyond into New Jersey, Connecticut, Westchester.
"This is where we need to be in two years. A network of community centers, affordable housing developments, medical clinics, educational facilities, and small businesses. All connected, all working together, all designed to support and strengthen the communities they serve."
Isabella whistled low. "David, that's... that's massive. The capital requirements alone, "
"Are substantial," David agreed. "Which is why James has been working on our funding model. James?"
The financial analyst stood, clearly more comfortable with numbers than speeches. "Right. So, uh, we've been operating on a combination of grants, donations, and David's consulting income. That's gotten us this far, but Ms. Torres is right, scaling up requires serious capital."
He pulled up a spreadsheet that made several people's eyes glaze over immediately. "I've been working with David on a multi-pronged approach. First: we're establishing a venture capital arm. We'll be making strategic investments in startups and emerging technologies, focusing on sustainable development, clean energy, and biotech. Sarah's been consulting on which companies show real promise versus which are vaporware."
Sarah nodded. "There's a lot of garbage out there, but there are also genuine innovators being overlooked by traditional VCs because they're not flashy enough or don't fit the Silicon Valley mold."
"Second," James continued, "we're creating a real estate investment trust. We'll be acquiring undervalued properties, buildings slated for demolition, abandoned lots, struggling businesses, and developing them using our model. Some will be kept as Foundation properties, others will be flipped for profit that funds the next acquisition."
"And third," David interjected, "we're going legitimate with our consulting business. David Chen Architecture becomes a full-service firm, taking on high-paying commercial clients. That money subsidizes our community work."
"Sounds like we're becoming a corporation," Sofia observed, her tone neutral but questioning.
"We're becoming sustainable," David corrected. "There's a difference between a corporation that extracts wealth from communities and an organization that generates wealth to reinvest in those communities. Our model is circular, every dollar we make goes back into our mission."
"And the mission is?" Marcus asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.
David met his eyes. "To build an alternative. To prove that you can create power structures that serve people instead of exploiting them. To establish networks of mutual aid and support that don't depend on government bureaucracy or corporate largesse."
"You're talking about creating a parallel society," James said quietly.
"I'm talking about creating resilience." David switched slides again, this time showing news clips from recent disasters: Hurricane Sandy, the BP oil spill, the 2008 financial crisis. "Every time there's a catastrophe, the same pattern plays out. The official systems fail or respond inadequately. Communities suffer. And the people who were already vulnerable get hurt the worst."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"We can't prevent every disaster. But we can build systems that help communities weather them and recover faster. Strong local networks. Diversified resources. Infrastructure that doesn't collapse at the first sign of stress. That's what I'm proposing we build."
"There's something you're not saying." This from Marcus, always reading between the lines. "This timeline feels urgent. Two years. That's specific."
David had been expecting this. They were smart people; they'd notice patterns. He'd been careful never to lie to them, but he'd also been strategic about what he revealed.
"I believe we're going to see increased instability in the coming years," he said carefully. "Economic, political, potentially worse. I can't give you specifics, some of this is just pattern recognition and analysis, but my instincts are screaming that we need to be prepared."
It wasn't a lie. Just not the complete truth.
Marcus studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Good enough for me. You've been right about everything else so far."
"So we're really doing this?" Isabella asked. "We're scaling up from a scrappy non-profit to... what? A shadow empire of community development?"
"I prefer 'network of mutual aid,'" David said dryly. "But essentially, yes. Which brings me to the ask: I need each of you to step up. Take on more responsibility. Build teams beneath you. This can't just be the eleven of us anymore."
He looked at each person in turn.
"Marcus, security and logistics. We need to protect our assets and people. I want you to build a team. Hire security for our properties. Develop emergency response protocols. Think of yourself as our operations director."
Marcus nodded. "I've got some names. People I served with who got screwed by the system. Good people who just need a chance."
"Sarah, medical and scientific advisor. I want you to help establish community health clinics. Partner with nursing schools, recruit recent graduates who care more about helping people than paying off loans. Also, keep tracking emerging technologies. I want us ahead of the curve."
"On it," Sarah said immediately.
"Sofia, information technology and security. Everything we do generates data. We need it protected, organized, and accessible only to people who need it. Also, I want you to start building our communications infrastructure. Encrypted channels, secure data storage, the works."
Sofia's eyes lit up. "Finally. Do you know how painful it's been watching you all use regular email and phones? I've been dying to set up a proper security infrastructure."
"Isabella, community outreach and social services. You're the heart of what we do. I need you to replicate your Henderson Park model across the city. Train others to do what you do. Build those connections."
Isabella smiled, warm and genuine. "That's the easy part. People want to help their neighbors. They just need organization and resources."
"James, CFO, essentially. Everything runs through you. You're keeping us solvent and growing. It's going to be stressful."
"I didn't leave Wall Street because I wanted an easy job," James replied. "I left because I wanted to do something meaningful. This qualifies."
David continued around the table, assigning roles, sketching out the organizational structure they'd need. By the time he finished, the warehouse felt different, charged with possibility and purpose.
"Questions?" he asked finally.
"Just one," Marcus said. "You're asking us to build something big. Something that's going to attract attention eventually. What happens when the people in power notice what we're doing?"
It was the question David had been dreading and anticipating.
"We be extremely careful not to threaten them directly," he said. "We stay focused on communities they've written off. We pay our taxes, follow regulations, and maintain a squeaky-clean public image. And if, when, we do attract attention, we make sure we're too valuable to shut down. Too connected to communities. Too integrated into the city's fabric."
"You're talking about building power," Marcus observed.
"I'm talking about building something worth protecting," David corrected. "There's a difference."
The meeting continued for another two hours, diving into specifics, debating strategies, identifying immediate next steps. By the time people started filtering out into the Brooklyn night, David felt both exhausted and energized.
Marcus lingered after the others left, helping David fold up chairs and restore the warehouse to its neutral state.
"You're holding something back," Marcus said as they worked. "I'm not asking you to tell me what it is. But I want you to know I know."
David paused, considering his response. "We all have our secrets. Things we can't share, even with people we trust. I can tell you this: I will never deliberately lead you or the others into danger without warning. And everything I'm doing is aimed at protecting people, not hurting them."
"That's what I figured." Marcus hefted the last chair into storage. "Just needed to hear you say it. For the record, I'm in. Whatever you're not telling us, whatever's coming... I'm in."
"Thank you," David said quietly.
After Marcus left, David stood alone in the warehouse, letting the silence settle around him. Through the grimy windows, he could see the Manhattan skyline across the water, towers of steel and glass housing millions of souls. Somewhere in that constellation of lights, Tony Stark was probably tinkering in his workshop. Steve Rogers was still frozen in ice. Thor was in Asgard, unaware his brother was planning an invasion. Nick Fury was building the Avengers Initiative.
And David Chen was building something else entirely. Something that would be there after the heroes saved the day and the cameras stopped rolling. Something that would help ordinary people survive in a world of gods and monsters.
He locked up the warehouse and headed home through Brooklyn's streets, just another tired New Yorker at the end of a long day.