Brown, Dale - Independent 04 (29 page)

 
          
“Henri,
you want to start a series of operations against
U.S.
airports, repeating the attack on San
Francisco International,”
Lake
said,
ignoring Ysidro and looking at Cazaux’s fiery eyes. “That’s fine with me. All
I’m asking is that you let me pick your targets for you.”

 
          
“You’re
fuckin’ crazy, bean-counter!”

 
          
“No,
I’m not. Listen to me, Henri. I lost over one hundred million dollars when you
attacked SFO last night. But someone
made
money on that attack, Henri, big money. They make money because they predict in
what direction a group of stocks will go.”

 
          
“This
is bullshit, Henri,” Ysidro said angrily—he had lost track of this conversation
long ago. Money, women, and action were the only activities Tomas Ysidro really
understood—everything else was bullshit. “He’s talkin’ buying and selling
fucking stocks with our money. Off this sonofabitch, man.”

 
          
“It’s
not bullshit,”
Lake
said. “I’ve got it all set up. Attack
U.S.
airports if you want to—just attack the
ones that I tell you to do, or give me a few days’ notice before you begin an
operation against an airport. Give me time to get my contracts lined up. I
guarantee you, Henri, we’ll make millions every time we do an operation. Best
of all, it’s one hundred percent legitimate. One hundred percent!”

 
          
Cazaux
looked as if he wasn’t listening, and
Lake
closed
his eyes, not wanting to see the muzzle flash of the big .45—but instead he
heard Cazaux say, “Speak, Harold.”
Lake
opened
his eyes. The .45 was lowered. Cazaux was staring at him, but
Lake
knew he now had his attention. It was now
or never, Harold . ..

 
          
“Listen,
Henri, here’s how it works. We do a put-option contract.”

 
          
“What
the hell are you talkin’ about, man?”

 
          
“Listen,
dammit,”
Lake
said. “I’m talking about fast money, one
hundred percent legitimate. I’m talking about turning a few thousand dollars
into hundreds of thousands or even millions.

 
          
“Let’s
suppose you own one hundred shares of stock that you bought at seven dollars a
share, but now it’s selling on the market at ten dollars a share,”
Lake
began. “You’re not going to sell your stock
unless it drops below eight dollars a share because you bought it at seven and
you’d start losing money—”

 
          
“What
is this shit, Henri. . . ?”

 
          
“I
want your stock, but I don’t have the money to pay for it,”
Lake
went on hurriedly. “I think your stock is
going to go down to five dollars a share soon, but if I wait until then, you’ll
sell your shares to someone else at or above seven. And besides, 1 still don’t
have the money to buy your shares even at five dollars a share. But I’m still
not out of the game, because I’m willing to pay you cash for an
option
to buy your stock. Follow me so
far?” Cazaux nodded, but
Lake
knew
he was getting only a few more seconds, and only because he had been a loyal
lieutenant of Cazaux’s for so long.

 
          
“We
agree to do the deal. I pay you fifty dollars earnest money, and we write a
contract that says that if the stock goes down below eight dollars a share
within the next two months, I have the
option
of buying your shares at any time within that two months. If the stock stays at
or above eight at the end of sixty days, the contract expires and nothing
happens, and you keep the fifty—”

 
          
“I
thought you said you didn’t have the money to buy the stock,” Townsend
interjected. Of the senior staff, Townsend was by far the most intelligent and
worldly of them all—
Lake
knew he had to not only convince Cazaux
that he was honest and sincere, but he had to explain everything carefully to
Townsend or it would not work.

 
          
“I’m
not buying your stock, Towney,”
Lake
replied. “I’m buying an
option
to buy
your stock. If the terms of the contract are not met, I don’t have the option.
If they are, I can choose whether or not to buy. If I buy, I’ve got to have the
cash. But the contract I hold has value—I can sell it to someone who wants the
stock, for cash. I’m not trying to own the stock—all I want is cash.”

           
Lake had totally lost Ysidro by this
time. Most of the others were watching Cazaux. The arms dealer was carefully
paying attention, and
Lake
believed he understood what was happening
and where
Lake
was leading him. Townsend was starting to
get confused. “But how can you get the bloody cash,” he asked irritably, “and
why do you have to pay someone to buy their stock?”

 
          
“I’m
paying them to
pledge
their stock, to
put it aside until the contract has either been executed or it expires,”
Lake
explained. “Your stock is at ten. I think
your stock is going to go to five, and I’m willing to pay you cash to promise
to sell it to
me
and no one else if
it goes below eight. You basically think I’m nuts, but you want my cash, so you
agree to the deal, take the cash, sign the contract, and put your stock in
escrow. The cash I pay you is yours no matter what happens.” Townsend nodded
that he understood. Ysidro took another swig of bourbon, belched, and a few
other staff officers fidgeted uneasily, intrigued but bored and anxious to get
this over with.

 
          
“But
how in bloody hell will you know if a stock that you’ve written this contract
for will go down like that—” And then Townsend stopped—and
Lake
knew then that the English terrorist was on
board. “So you’re suggesting ...”

 
          
“We
target
our attacks in order to drive
the price of the stock in the direction we want,”
Lake
explained, a broad smile on his face now.
“We want United Airlines stock to go down, so we hit a United terminal or
repair facility. The price of the stock hits rock bottom, and we clean up.

 
          
“We
can play this game the other way, too,”
Lake
went on. “If airlines go down, other
airline-related companies like airplane manufacturers and petroleum companies
also go down, and oil prices and other transportation stocks, like auto
manufacturers, go way up. We write a contract to buy auto or railroad stocks at
a certain price, or write a commodities option contract to do the same with
oil, or gold, or aluminum. When the stock or the commodity zooms past the
strike price, we execute.”

           
“So what about the federal
authorities?” Townsend asked, a trace of old English civility creeping into his
voice now that he better understood
Lake
’s
plan. “If we start making money like you suggest, won’t the federal regulatory
agencies become curious?”

 
          
“Yes,”
Lake
admitted, after gauging Cazaux’s
expression. More than information,
Lake
felt,
Cazaux was looking for honesty, and if
Lake
ever had to be one hundred and ten percent
up-front, it was now. “I don’t think you can do this for very long—eventually
someone will question all these coincidences . . .” His voice regained a lot of
the confidence and steel that he had lost since the incident at SFO. “But I
think we can plan Henri’s three strikes against carefully selected targets,
take the proceeds, close up shop, and get away clean before the Securities and
Exchange Commission alerts the Treasury Department and the FBI.”

 
          
“Now
you’ve got three American federal agencies chasing us ... ?”

 
          
“These
options trades are done tens of thousands of times a day,”
Lake
explained. “Hundreds of millions of dollars
in options are traded every business day. The federal agencies have rules and
enforcement officers examining these trades, but it works slowly, and they look
for the big fish. Besides, we’re not stealing the money—we’re just diverting
it, spreading it around, with most of it spread in our direction. Lots of other
traders will be making money, and the guy who just lost money one day will make
it all back, plus a little extra, the next day or the next week. This sounds
like big bucks, gents, but it’s small potatoes—most big-time traders need to
make ten million a day just to keep their spurs.

 
          
“We’ll
be outgunned by the really big traders, the superbig investors and brokers and
even some governments. That’s the time we take our profits and step back. We’ll
be lost in the confusion—a perfect opportunity to escape. The feds will go
after the elephants, and they’ll let the ants scoop up the crumbs and
shoo—except our ‘crumbs’ will be counted in the millions, maybe even the tens
of millions of dollars.”

 
          
“Henri,
this bastard is givin’ us a snow job,” Ysidro said, totally lost and completely
exasperated by
Lake
’s attempted explanation. “We gotta get the
money this asshole stole from us back, that’s the fuckin’ bottom line.”

 
          
Cazaux
looked at Ysidro, then Townsend, then at
Lake
, nodded solemnly, and said in response,
“Harold, your plan of action has merit, but it still does not erase what you
have done—risk this entire army’s very existence by compromising our financial
resources. It is nothing short of treason and conspiracy. However, because of
your long years of service to us and because I feel your plan should be
considered by the general staff, you will not be tried of treason and
conspiracy for a period of twelve hours.

 
          
“In
that twelve hours, while under ’round-the-clock arrest, you are to turn all
funds belonging to this organization over to me.”

 
          
“No
problem,”
Lake
said. “I can have the eleven million
dollars in your offshore accounts in three—”

 
          
“In
cash,” Ysidro said, “not any of this Jew-banker contract-note shit.”

 
          
“In
cash,” Cazaux agreed.

 
          
Lake
swallowed hard, the back of his mind racing
trying to determine the best way to transport a truckful of money to the Owl’s
Nest from a friendly bank. He quickly determined that it was not possible.
“Henri, it can’t be done in twelve hours,”
Lake
said. “One or two million, yes, but not
eleven. The fastest way to get the money is from the Federal Reserve Bank in
New York
or
Boston
, but we don’t want to stir up
that
hornet’s nest, which means we try
going to the commercial and private banks, which will take time. Not many banks
carry that kind of cash on hand, which means we’d have to go to several banks,
which greatly increases the likelihood of—”

 
          
“Then
you will die, Harold,” Cazaux said, raising the big .45 again.

           
“Wait!”
Lake
shouted. “I can get four... no, five
million with just a phone call. I’ve dealt with the Win Millions Casino in
Atlantic City
for emergency cash deals in the past—they
can divert five million to me in just a few hours, before the gaming commission
inspectors count their receipts tomorrow morning. They’ll charge twenty
percent—”

 
          
“Which
you will pay out of your own funds,” Cazaux said.

 
          
“Of
course, of course,”
Lake
agreed. Twenty-percent interest for a
one-week loan worked out to an astronomical
one
million percent
compounded annual interest rate, but it was his only hope
right now. “But Henri, the other six million should stay in the various
offshore accounts. We can’t write those option contracts with cash.” The gun
was still trained on him, distrust showing in every man’s face around
Lake
. “Henri, you’ve
got
to trust me on this one. I’ve got a loan commitment for eighteen
million dollars in my hands. I pay Fraga at the Win Millions Casino six
million, I need four million for my other creditors, that leaves you with the
rest of the—”

 
          
“You
will pay us fifteen million dollars,” Cazaux said. “Five million now, in cash,
and ten million credited to our offshore numbered accounts. You will keep the
rest.”