I wanted to act right away, but I needed to wait.
Monday came and went in a blur of lectures, coffee-fueled discussions, and half-hearted note-taking at the university.
By Tuesday morning, I was cruising down I-95 in my red hot Ferrari.
I needed everything in place before I began pulling people to my side. Other than an anonymous persona i will also need offshore funds, another ghost investment firm to be exact, that I could invest into those overshorted penny stocks with.
The Super PAC was essential as well, a way to funnel money into the libertarian political movement.
I parked in the underground garage of a sleek skyscraper in Brickell, Miami's financial heart. The building was a steel-and-glass giant, shimmering under the Florida sun. Inside, the lobby was all polished marble and modern art installations, bustling with professionals in sharp suits and pencil skirts.