The Last Hedge

by Green, Carey

  “Do you at least have any idea how they gained access?”

  “He’s bright. He placed some type of worm in the operating system to capture passwords. But I don’t mean keystrokes, I mean, down at the processor level. He’s a programming genius.”

  “Josh,” Ray said, “I am not here to watch you fall in love with some programming geek. I am here because you called me over some security breach that your incompetence has created.”

  “MY incompetence?”

  “You’re sitting there like the pasha. Give me some answers. What did they gain access to? For how long? Figure it out, pal!”

  “King almost put us out of business last week. Another margin call, and we are done!”

  “It won’t happen. We have enough cash to weather any market! ” Ray was breathing heavily. After several seconds, he began to laugh. He then got up from his desk and turned his back towards Josh. He looked out Josh’s glass window looking out onto the trading floor.

  “So what are you going to do?” Josh asked.

  “I’m still thinking about it.” Without turning, Ray wheeled and left.

  Ray returned to his office. Confined within his own space, Ray picked up his phone and summonsed Dylan towards his office. When Dylan entered the office, Ray was standing in his usual position, staring at the city down below. Dylan walked in and took a seat in his chair.

  “Dylan” Ray said, “Just the man I wanted to see. How’s the trading?” Ray asked.

  “We’ll we are 98percent allocated. We’ve made several million so far.”

  “That is fantastic.”

  “I’ve gotten a little bit lucky.”

  “Luck is not part of it. You are truly a fantastic trader. You know that.”

  “Thanks, Ray. I appreciate it.” Ray got up and went to his desk. He reached in and pulled out a manila folder. He walked around to the front of his desk and sat down. He was almost touching Dylan.

  “Do you know what this is?” Ray asked.

  “No,” Dylan asked.

  “I will tell you in a moment, but first I want to explain something. Dylan, I was greatly impressed when you talked to me about loyalty. My old man came to this country with less than $100 dollars in his pocket. He came not knowing what the future held for him. He was from a country where loyalty was espoused. He felt this the moment he set foot on American soil. Loyalty was an inalienable right.” Ray then turned and looked at Dylan, his eyes were distant and glassy.

  “This tradition of not knowing where we stand as men. I find that highly disaffecting. Is that a word? Do you understand this tradition? That is the question I am asking you?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Ray turned away and towards the window. He got up from his chair. Without saying a word, he began to sing.

  Come, they told me, pa rum pa pum pum A newborn King to see, pa rum pa pum pum.”

  Ray had begun to use his hands to drum the beat of the tune, as if Bing Crosby was standing next to him.

  “Ray!” Dylan shouted.

  Ray continued to sing, and to drum.

  “To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum.”

  Dylan was alarmed. He stepped towards Ray and grabbed him by the arm, using his voice to bring Ray back to reality. “Ray!” Dylan shouted again.

  Ray stopped singing and turned towards Dylan. His eyes were glassy and distant. His mouth was open and mouthing imaginary words.

  “Ray, what are you telling me?”

  Ray seemed to snap out of his fog. He turned towards Dylan with complete lucidity. He moved towards his desk and held up the manila envelope, “I will ask you again. Do you know what this is?” Ray asked. Dylan said nothing. “It’s your employment contract.” Ray took the document from the folder and ripped it in half. Ray let the shreds fall to the floor. He then reached into his breast pocket and handed Dylan a white envelope.

  “What is this?” Dylan asked.

  “It’s a check. A bonus check.”

  “I wasn’t due a bonus.”

  “ That is beside the point. But before you open it, I want to ask a question. Have you been stealing proprietary information from this firm?”

  Dylan tried hard to prevent the panic from registering on his face. He reeled in horror as he attempted to mask his lie. “No, Ray. Why would you think that?”

  “Are you lying to me!” Ray had slapped his hand down on the desk so hard, that the thud reverberated throughout the room.

  “Ray, why would I lie?”

  “People lie all the time! That is what they do when they are confronted with this type of thing! Josh says you and Binky were tampering with files. Was he downloading information?”

  “He was working on stuff at home. Maybe he needed a file or two! But that’s it!”

  “Are you lying to me, Dylan? I will not tolerate liars. I promise you, liars are not tolerated!”

  “”Ray, I swear! Loyalty is my priority! I would not lie to you or to Josh. If I do, I would resign!”

  “Good,” Ray said. “Then open the envelope.”

  Dylan looked inside the enveloped and found two checks. The first check was for one-hundred thousand. The other check, written to Binky was for fifty-thousand. Ray was now beaming at Dylan from ear to ear.

  “Enjoy it. You deserve it. Martha will have a new and improved employment contract for you tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank you, maybe. Or let’s just leave it at goodnight. I have to run out of here. But I will see you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Still dazed, Dylan walked back to his desk where Binky was waiting.

  Dylan stared at his friend sitting next to him. Binky was so focused he had not looked up in hours. Dylan tapped him on the shoulder and Binky turned towards him. Dylan stuck out the envelope and handed it to him.

  “Here,” Dylan said as he handed him a check.

  “What’s this for?”

  “It’s a bonus from Ray.”

  “Huh?” Binky asked distractedly, as he turned towards Dylan. Binkey’s eyes were bloodshot red, and his hair was in a big bush on one side, like a raccoon. His shirt was completely wrinkled and unbuttoned at the collar. He had pulled a string of all-nighters putting the trading system back together, but the principal work was finished. Dylan wondered what he was working on that had him so engrossed.

  “What are you working on?”

  “This,” Binky said as he pointed to the screen. Dylan could see a large meter bar that seemed to be about 25 percent finished. Underneath, it said “Elapsed time 8 hours”.

  “Well, I wasn’t able to break all of the encryption, but I was able to break some of it.”

  “What is it?” Dylan asked.

  Binky looked around the trading floor. Though it was empty, clearly he was uncomfortable.

  “Maybe we need to go downstairs and talk.”

  “Let’s go,” Dylan said. “We could both use some air.”

  He waited as the slow-moving Binky got up from his chair. Soon, they were in the elevator headed towards the first floor.

  Binky was still half-dazed as they sauntered into the Starbucks. Dylan placed him in a booth while he ordered two cups of coffee. When he returned, Binky was nodding off.

  “Here, Bink,” Dylan said. “Have a drink of this.”

  Binky managed to get several swallows down, and suddenly became more focused. The magic elixir of coffee had done it once again.

  Dylan looked around the Starbucks. No one looked suspicious or particularly interested. It was just the late afternoon coffee break in full effect.

  “So, what’s going on?”

  “I think they are running two sets of books. I hacked into the actual bank accounts. I saw hundreds of small wire transfers, done mostly with banks in the Cayman and other offshore entities. After a week or so, that money was transferred into actual Corbin Brothers’ accounts. Then, I looked at the real books: They must have some type of plug
in the software generating fake and bogus trade files. I think that’s what caused some of the slowness in the trading system. I don’t think it’s working well. There’s some type of bug.”

  “Were you able to find out who did the transfers?”

  “That’s the thing. This encryption they have: I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like a team of scientists from MIT built it.”

  “You think it was Josh?”

  “I think Einstein might have built it. I don’t know. But I think I can break it. That’s what the timer upstairs is doing, cracking the encryption.”

  “Holy shit!” Dylan exclaimed. He looked around the Starbucks. A line had formed at the counter as the afternoon rush began to accelerate.

  “Binky, maybe you shouldn’t go back there today. With two sets of books you know what’s going on: fraud or pPonzi.” He looked around the place before turning back to Binky. “Listen, the FBI approached me.”

  Binky looked even more confused than ever.

  “The FBI approached you? About what?”

  “Remember when I was asking you about short sales? But there’s something else funny going on here WAY beyond that.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I think we both need to walk away. Now.”

  “You mean quit? What about the bonus checks?”

  “Forget that! I think we need to distance ourselves as quickly as possible.”

  ‘Why don’t we try to figure it out first?”

  “Absolutely not. We’re not cops. We are traders. If we get implicated in something like this, we could never work in the industry again. We could also go to jail, just like Matland and that crew. Is that what you want?”

  “Look, just let me get the rest of the files. It’s going to run a few more hours. Then we’ll know.”

  “What if they catch you?”

  “Trust me, Dylan, they won’t. The tools I use are untraceable.”

  “This is too big, Binky. That’s it. We gotta pull the plug.”

  “Dylan, I’m twenty-six. I can make my own decisions.”

  “I understand that. Binky, I hired you to be an assistant trader, not to join the cast of ‘Law and Order’. Besides, if something were to happen to you, I’d feel responsible, because I got you into this mess.”

  “Give me until tonight. I think I can get the rest of the information off of the network.”

  “Binky, I …”

  “Dylan, one more night. We can do it.” Binky reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He handed it to Dylan.

  “What is this?”

  “The investor list/ I printed it out. I got the feeling they are monitoring all the USB ports.”

  Dylan took the list and glanced at it. He folded it up and placed it in his pocket.

  “Okay,” Dylan said. “Listen, we go back there today and finish work as if everything is normal. But I want you to call me tonight, if you get the stuff or not. Whatever time it is, call me. okay?”

  “Got it.”

  “And Binky, please be careful.”

  “I will Dylan. I will.”

  Chapter 24

  Dylan had called Vanessa immediately and they agreed to meet in the East Village, at a bar called Manitoba’s. A football game was on the TV in the background. It was Monday night Baseball the Dodgers and the Mets. Dylan had already taken a seat in a booth in the back of the bar, and he watched as Conroy and Vanessa entered. They spotted him in back and made their way towards. They sat directly across from him in the booth. They both nodded at Dylan and said hello. Dylan did not bother with formalities as he began to speak.

  “The financials are definitely screwy. It was standard accounting software, Peachtree, in fact. But, from what I could tell, there were two sets of books. One seemed to be real, with a real set of names and investors, the other seemed to be fake. There was encryption on both. One Binky could break, the other he’s still working on.”

  “You think it was fake?”

  “I studied corporate fraud in b-school. It’s definitely fishy.”

  “So the Corbin Brothers are running a Ponzi scheme?” Conroy asked.

  “We don’t know that.”

  “But you said the books look fishy. To me, that’s a Ponzi scheme.”

  “We don’t know that. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “Okay. What do you think it means.”

  “God only knows.”

  “You have a copy of any of this?”

  “Yes,” Dylan said, “Binky was able to get some names.” Dylan gave Tim the printout that Binky had given. Tim to glanced at.

  “Where is he now?” Tim asked.

  “He’s back at the office. He’ll hopefully have the rest of the stuff tonight. Whatever he comes up with, I’ll turn it over to you.”

  Dylan looked at Vanessa carefully, trying to discern the thoughts that were flowing through her brain. She seemed emotionless, impartial. Her poker face was definitely working.

  “Thanks,” Conroy said. “I’m sure this will prove useful.”

  “Maybe,” Dylan said. “Of course, I’ll be out of a job again.”

  “A guy like you will always bounce back. Besides, he may be clean.”

  “Maybe. But you’re hoping he’s not. Right?”

  Conroy nodded his head in an ambiguous way. Dylan continued speaking. “After all, clean guys aren’t your job, bad guys are.”

  “There are plenty more bad guys, if Corbin is clean.”

  “Well, as long as I’m clean, I’ve done my part, either way. I’ll call you when Binky gets the file. Let me know what you find out.” Dylan took a long glance at Vanessa, but she turned away. Conroy smiled at Dylan, a hint of humor in his voice.

  “Have you ever thought about working for us?”

  “The FBI?”

  “With everything that’s going on in the markets, a guy like you would be very useful. Plus,” Conroy said as he gestured towards Vanessa,” Your pal here and I could speak to Dan Highland if you want. The training is long, but you do get to carry a gun.”

  “And it’s a big pay cut. I don’t have a wealthy wife.”

  “You might meet one.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Dylan said. Just after those words, he glanced at the T.V. over Conroy’s shoulder. The baseball game screen had flashed to a special newscast, and was now showing a screen filled with total panic. People were crying in front of what looked like a demolished building. Paramedics and doctors were frantic at the scene. The dress of the individuals on-screen seemed to indicate the country was probably in the Middle East. Conroy and Vanessa turned to see what had captured Dylan’s attention.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said. “Looks like an earthquake.” Vanessa glanced back at the screen.

  “No,” Vanessa said as she shook her head. “That was from last night. A bomb went off.”

  “Last night?”

  “This morning here; yesterday there. Don’t you get the news on the trading floor?”

  “I’ve been a bit preoccupied. Where was it?”

  “Karachi. That’s in Pakistan in case you’re not up on your geography.”

  Dylan’s mouth was open and his gaze was fixated on the screen. His mind began to turn and twist on the events of the last few weeks. He remembered the bank transfers that Adam had shown him, of wire transfers in and out of Pakistan. Even more alarming, the data that Adam had shown him was 8/6. A confused look was plastered on Dylan’s face as he continued to watch the television screen.

  “What’s the matter?” Vanessa asked.

  “Nothing,” Dylan said. “What is today's date?”

  “The sixth.”

  “The sixth of what?”

  ‘August.”

  “Then today is 8/7. But yesterday was 8/6 in Pakistan. Holy shit!”

  “What is it?” Conroy asked.

  “I don’t know, but I have to go.”

  Before Conroy could stop him,
Dylan was out of the booth and rushing towards the front door.

  “That was weird,” Vanessa said.

  “Yeah, like a bell went off in his head or something.”

  “Maybe one did.”

  “I’ll follow up on what he gave us. You check in with him later?” Conroy noticed that Vanessa was staring off into space.

  “V., you check in with him later?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Thanks. Let’s head back. I want to see what the hell he gave us.”

  Chapter 25

  The software was called FAST, an acronym for fraud access system technology; a homegrown system the FBI used primarily for securities fraud and white-collar crime. Conroy entered his username and passwords that he vigilantly changed weekly. The screen went blank for a moment and the hourglass of the cursor appeared. The system was now ready for access.

  Conroy had taken the paper printouts from Dylan and had them scanned into text files to run through the FBI computer systems. He pressed the upload button, and the system began to scan the files. One by one, the names scrolled by on the screen, a checkbox next to each verifying that the name was okay. The software scanned the file successfully, except for one entry that was moved to the bottom of the list, with a red X next to it. Conroy studied the name on the screen: Yoseph Fazziz. He hated to think in stereotypes, but already his mind was drifting away from naked short selling. He double clicked on the name and the words “Access Denied” appeared.

  Conroy studied the screen for a moment. It was illogical that he was being denied access; he had never seen this message before in FAST. Typically, everyone in the Bureau could see every case, unless there was a high-level exception to the case or individuals involved. He had never seen such a case before. When the same message appeared on his second try, he decided that it was time to punt. He decided to go and see his boss, Dan Highland.

  Highland was seated at his desk, when Conroy entered his office.

  “Dan, I got a little problem.”

  “What’s up, Timmy? Speak to me.”

  “I was just denied access to a file in FAST. I’ve never seen that before.”