A smiling Baumann walked into the vast open plan office of Blumberg Enterprises in Manhattan accompanied by several thugs dressed in black suits.
“I want to see Mr Blumberg, honey,” he said to the prim, blond-haired secretary sitting behind the front desk.
“I’m sorry Mr Blumberg is in a meeting at the moment and asked not to be disturbed,” she said giving a dismissive smile.
“Is that so!” said Baumann gazing out over the New York skyscape, “well little missy,” he said looking back at her, “you tell him that if he doesn’t come and talk, I’ll take the ten million I’m about to invest in his company somewhere else, then I’ll come back and hack his balls off with a rusty saw.”
The secretary reached down and pressed the security call button.
“No good missy! I’m afraid they’re… incapacitated.”
She then pressed a button and said, “Mr Blumberg I think you should talk to this gentleman.”
Then after a moment, “No, Mr Blumberg, you need to talk to this man!”
A small man in a neat suit with a fashionable, dark beard appeared in the foyer area after a few awkward minutes. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
“Yes,” said a grinning Baumann, “I’ve come to invest in your company.”
“Then, perhaps you’d better come to my office,” said Blumberg walking through the office toward a green door.
“Please come in,” he said opening and leaving the door open as he walked toward his desk, which sat before the vast buildings of Manhattan standing behind a sheet-glass window.
“Stay out here guys I’ll handle this,” Baumann said turning toward his thugs.
“What’s your name sir,” said Blumberg.
“Thomas Hassan Baumann,” said Baumann holding out his hand as he crossed the room.
“I’m Jonathon Blumberg,” said the small man shaking Baumann’s hand before sitting down behind his desk.
“Now Mr Baumann, I’m a legitimate businessman. There will be no need for your associates outside the door. I do not do business with people of, ahem… ill repute, and I should inform you that the police have been alerted. You have, I would say, ten minutes to illuminate me as to the real purpose of your visit.”
“Well in that case I would say you, ahem… have ten minutes to call them off.” Baumann said lounging back in one of the two seats at the front of Blumberg’s desk.
“And why would I do that?”
“Well, I’m holding your family captive in your more than ample house in Scarsdale,” said Baumann as he pulled out a mobile phone and pressed a button, said a few words then passed the device to the business man.
“Hello… Dee, you okay?”
After a few words Blumberg passed the phone back to Baumann and pressed a button on his desk phone and instructed to cancel the police.
“Okay, you have me at a disadvantage. You breeze past my security; just who are you, and what do you really want?”
“Let’s just say I’m someone you don’t want to mess with, and I’m here to take over your business!”
“What! Do you know what my business is worth? Then there’s the board and the shareholders.
And I have the ear of the President.”
“I know all that. That’s why I want your business.”
“Impossible!”
“You have no choice I’m afraid. I’m going to keep you on, however, as a silent partner with ten 49
million in your back pocket for any trouble caused to you and your family,” said Baumann. A small table with a sculptured figure upon it moved half a metre across the carpet toward Blumberg’s desk.
“Hey! That… table behind you moved… on its own!” said Blumberg looking past Baumann.
“Oh, I can do better than that. Watch this!”
Blumberg jumped off his seat as the desk shook violently causing all the things which were lying neatly on it to fly off toward the walls.”
“Okay, okay you can have the company, just don’t harm my family,” said Blumberg staring at Baumann in fear.
Baumann walked around the now stationary desk and shook hands with the businessman. “That's more like it Mr Blumberg.
“What’s all this about?” Blumberg asked as Baumann walked toward the door,
“Well, let’s just say your life and everyone else’s won’t be the same again!”
Baumann closed Blumberg’s office door and strode through the huge outer office followed by his henchmen.
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