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Mr. Tuohy's efficiency was impressive—by 10 AM the next day, he'd already arranged a meeting with Musk. Maybe that's the secret to his success: getting things done fast.
Ron hadn't been idle either. He'd found time to call his father back at the University of Texas, where he was head coach of the Longhorns, to fill him in about the Tuohys' newly adopted son and give an update on Sheldon.
The latter was mainly for Mom's benefit, of course.
"Ron, Sheldon is your brother, and even though he can seem pretty cold sometimes, I know for certain that he loves his family deeply. You need to look out for him more."
Mary sounded somewhat displeased, and it was obvious that Missy, that little gossip, had definitely shown her those photos of Sheldon in his underwear.
Ron sighed. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm his big brother—of course I'll take care of him. Actually, I already gave that jerk who was picking on Sheldon a good talking-to."
"Ron! I don't recall ever teaching you to solve problems with violence!" Mary shrieked.
There was no getting around it. As a devout Baptist, Mary had always believed in that whole "conquer your enemies with love" philosophy.
"Mary, don't forget—your son isn't just a Christian, he's also a Texan. And a good Texan should've cracked that punk's skull open," George chimed in.
To avoid starting a family war, Ron had to explain his actions: "Mom, I wasn't violent. Actually, we just had a friendly sparring session—completely consensual."
Ron swore he wasn't lying. Sure, that idiot Doug had gotten his butt kicked, but it was totally consensual, as the video evidence would show.
"Alright, God bless you." Mary was about to hang up when George grabbed the phone away.
"Ron, I'm real interested in that kid you mentioned. Maybe you could bring him back to Texas this weekend. Good offensive linemen are hard to come by these days. All the colleges are hurting for talent, and we need to get a jump on recruiting."
"You got it, Dad."
After hanging up, Ron checked his watch. It was exactly 9:50. He tucked the notebook into his briefcase and walked into the SpaceX building.
This was the company Elon Musk had founded in 2002 to make his dream of colonizing Mars a reality. It was exactly this kind of thinking that made Mr. Tuohy call him a "complete nutjob" and express concern about Ron doing business with him.
The sentiment was clear enough, even if Mr. Tuohy had put it more diplomatically. Sometimes English just doesn't have the right words to capture what you really mean.
Last year, in 2006, the Falcon 1 rocket had launched and, as expected, put on quite a fireworks show.
Besides giving Americans something new to talk about, it had also burned through $6.9 million in funding.
Unlike in the past, Musk now had no plans to launch a reusable rocket, instead focusing on other ways to cut costs.
Ron believed the notebook in his bag would definitely catch Musk's interest.
"Mr. Cooper, Mr. Musk is waiting for you in his office," the attractive secretary said, leading Ron to the door and politely opening it for him.
"Hey there, young man. Sean told me yesterday that you work for the IRS. So before I give you a hug, can you assure me you're not here for a tax audit?"
Musk asked half-jokingly, opening his arms. Ron stepped right into the embrace. "I figure even if I were here for that reason, you wouldn't just kick me out, right?
Besides, I'm betting a smart guy like you wouldn't leave us enough evidence to nail you for tax evasion anyway, would you?"
Ron, naturally, didn't hold back—he called out Musk's fishing expedition immediately.
"Ha! Just pulling your leg. I suppose if you folks at the IRS were planning an audit, you wouldn't need to go through Sean to set up a meeting with me, right? You could probably reach me anytime you wanted."
"Exactly," Ron didn't deny it. The truth was, the IRS kept tabs on powerful figures like Musk around the clock.
"So let me take a wild guess. You coming to see me—that wasn't your idea, was it? From what I understand, you seem to have a pretty cozy relationship with a certain very important person."
Musk made a lasso motion with his hand. "Yee-haw!"
Ron was mildly surprised. He hadn't expected Musk to know so much about his biggest benefactor. Sure enough, no successful entrepreneur gets there by being naive.
But he kept his cool.
"I think you're talking about Mr. Francis? Don't worry—it wasn't his idea for me to come here today. You don't need to sweat it. Like Mr. Tuohy said, I'm just here to discuss a business opportunity with you."
"Well then, I'm stumped. What exactly do you want to partner with me on?" Ron's repeated denials finally shook Musk's initial assumptions. He couldn't figure out why a tax agent would suddenly want to meet with him through a mutual friend.
Ron didn't rush to answer. Instead, he found a comfortable spot on the office couch and cut straight to the chase: "Mr. Musk, I'm not someone who likes to beat around the bush. I want shares in your company."
"Then you should head to the stock exchange. Tesla's trading at $7.85 a share today. I'm sure your salary could buy you plenty, kid."
Ron shook his head. "No, you know that's not what I'm after. I want more than that, and I don't plan on paying for it."
"So I'm guessing you've got some so-called evidence of tax evasion in that briefcase, and now you're here to blackmail me?" Musk spread his hands in resignation. "Kid, you got me. Leave the briefcase, and I'll write you a check that'll make you very happy."
Ron didn't budge, just smiled knowingly.
"And then your legal team would nail me for abuse of power and bribery." Ron stood up. "The recording equipment's right there and there, isn't it?"
Ron pointed at the decorative eagle on Musk's desk and the vase on top of the filing cabinet. Musk's expression finally shifted, and he stood up applauding, offering Ron a Cuban cigar.
This was his way of showing respect for Ron, but Ron didn't light it—just turned it over in his hands.
"As expected from the best agent that even Francis has praised. When did you spot them?"
"Soon as I walked in. I gotta say, while your camera placement is pretty clever, it's way too obvious. You might as well have put signs on them saying 'Hey, I'm a camera, look at me!' My professional training kicked in immediately."
Musk lit his own cigar. "Alright, you win. The games are over. Now you can tell me what you really want, right?"
Ron spread his hands. "I already told you—I want shares in your company, and I don't plan on paying for them."
Chapter 10: End of Negotiation
Musk wasn't as angry and flustered as Ron had expected. Instead, his eyes lit up with even more curiosity.
"So I'm guessing you've got something you think is worth big bucks. Why don't you show me what's in that briefcase of yours? Let me take a look and maybe I can give you a ballpark figure."
Ron didn't keep Musk waiting any longer and placed the kid's notebook from his briefcase on Musk's desk.
"This notebook might look a little beat up, but I guarantee you'll be blown away by what's inside. I think it's a fair trade for shares in your company."
Just a notebook? A kid's notebook at that! Are you kidding me? Musk had some choice words he was biting back.
But he stayed polite and picked up the notebook to flip through it. Once he started reading, though, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Ron sat quietly and waited.
This notebook had been Sheldon's when he was nine years old. That year, he'd asked, "If space travel is so damn expensive, why don't we just recycle the rockets?"
NASA's PR guy had tried to brush him off with a stupid sticker. Pissed off, Sheldon had spent an entire month meticulously calculating everything from launch to recovery.
In other words, this notebook contained a completely workable reusable rocket design!
It was essentially the Falcon 9 that SpaceX would develop in Ron's original timeline. While Musk might not have come up with such a brilliant and audacious concept on his own, he'd definitely fallen in love with it just the same.
As for how Ron got his hands on the notebook—Sheldon had originally left it behind at NASA when George Sr. took the family on that tour, but Ron, being thorough, had gone back and retrieved it.
More importantly, when Sheldon had gotten into trouble, Ron had offered to help him out in exchange for full ownership of the notebook.
So Ron could honestly say the notebook was now entirely his property!
"Tell me, kid—who came up with this genius idea? This is incredible! If we built a rocket exactly like this, the cost per launch would be dirt cheap!"
Musk exclaimed.
"Doesn't matter whose idea it was originally. What matters is that it's completely mine now. So, Mr. Musk, what do you think it's worth in company shares?"
Ron asked casually, like he was asking what was for lunch, but inside he was pumped.
Are you kidding? These were SpaceX shares, and by 2020, the company would be worth $40 billion. Even if Ron just sat on his ass and sold at the right time, he'd make enough to set his family up for life.
Thanks, Sheldon!
However, Musk didn't rush to make an offer. Instead, he closed the notebook and slid it back toward Ron.
"I'll admit it's a brilliant concept, but who says I'm buying it? You might not realize this, but I've got plenty of scientists on my payroll.
And the idea itself isn't rocket science—pun intended. Won't take me long to reverse-engineer this thing."
As a businessman, maximizing profits was obviously the priority. Since he'd already seen the concept, he could just develop it himself. Why pay for something he could copy with his own team's skills?
It was a solid argument, Ron had to give him that.
Ron didn't show a trace of panic. Instead, he asked, "That's fair, but I've got a question."
Musk gestured for him to go ahead.
"You realize what I'm offering is a thoroughly tested and validated design, right? Sure, you could copy my concept, but I'm betting it'll take your team quite a while to work through all the technical validation, won't it?"
"Yeah, maybe a month or two, but I can definitely wait that long," Musk said smugly, acting like he held all the cards.
Ron continued, "Sure, but I'm thinking if I take this to Mr. Bezos instead, maybe he could save himself a month or two, don't you think?"
Ron slipped the notebook back into his briefcase, but he didn't rush to leave. Instead, he settled back in his chair, sipping the coffee that attractive secretary had just brought him and twirling Musk's cigar between his fingers.
Musk certainly wasn't the only player in the American space game. In fact, Blue Origin, another space exploration company, had been founded even before SpaceX.
That company belonged to Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos, and both companies were currently competing for NASA's launch contracts for the next decade.
It was a hell of a lucrative deal! And right now, Musk was losing.
Musk's expression shifted from cocky to stone-faced, his mind clearly racing. Ron, meanwhile, was getting bored waiting.
This goddamn pre-smartphone era meant he couldn't even kill time with a mobile game.
How the hell did other people who got transported back in time adapt so quickly? God knows how long it had taken him to adjust to life without smartphones!
Fortunately, next year Apple would drop the first iPhone, kicking off the smartphone revolution. Then the year after that, the first Android phone would hit the market, starting the epic battle for mobile dominance. His trusty Nokia would eventually become a museum piece.
With that in mind, Ron wasn't quite as obsessed with getting pure SpaceX and Tesla shares anymore. He'd be happy with a mix of equity and cash.
Picking up some Apple and Google stock right now seemed like a pretty smart move, right?
"Alright, you got me. How much equity do you want?" After a long silence, Musk finally caved. "I still want to maintain controlling interest in the company, so if you're willing to take some cash instead, I'd really appreciate it."
"Absolutely, Elon. Mind if I call you that?" Ron stood up with a grin. Musk just shrugged at the informal address. "Also, I don't know how long this'll take to finalize, but can we move fast on this?
The quicker we close, the more cash I'm willing to accept."
For a moment, Musk had considered agreeing, then stalling while secretly getting his scientists to develop the design before Ron could cut a deal with Bezos.
Ron caught his eye, and Musk smiled ruefully, realizing yet another of his schemes had been busted. As expected, any agent good enough to work at that level was no pushover.
"At first, Sean told me you were the sharpest young guy he'd ever met. I didn't quite buy it, but now I'm a believer."
Ron grinned. "Not just Mr. Tuohy—Mr. Buffett said the same thing. Trust me, Elon, you made a smart choice."
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