301 - From the ashes: Battlefield

"It seems that Mr Grassfield doesn't know me, but that is normal, given the hands-off approach you have with your investment there. Let's change that."

Saying that, Daemon raised a hand to call the waiter, before he manipulated his phone while waiting.

When the young man in uniform came beside him, he spoke without looking at him, his gaze having returned to the man he came for:

"In your director's office. There are documents in the midst of being printed. Go get them for Mr Grassfield."

The waiter paused, having never come across a request that confusing. He looked at Daemon, before he turned to the patron who was a regular in the club.

The old man with a bald scalp finally turned to Daemon, giving him a long look that sought to penetrate his mind and read any clue about what he was talking about. He was old, but just in his sixties, with his eyes still clear, holding the authority the top position in society had bred in him.