The Last Hedge

by Green, Carey

  “You gave it a good try, Dylan. It was a noble effort.” Highland said.

  Josh stepped forward, several feet from Dylan’s face.

  “And your software worked perfectly. You should win an award … in the next life.”

  “You?” Dylan said.

  “Hello, Dylan,” Highland said. “Didn’t ever think we’d have face time together again.”

  “The Teaneck raid was faked, wasn’t it?”

  “One hundred percent. And once the loop was closed, when we met at the gallery, I decided it was time to cut my losses. There was simply too big a chance that I might end up like Ray.”

  “So that’s why you had us testing our system. You helped them appropriate my code, and my system.”

  “Something like that,” Highland said.

  “Geniuses,” Dylan said. “You two should be in the White House. Was this your idea of revenge? Teaming up with the people who might have killed your brother?”

  “Jonathan Kay killed my brother.”

  “Funny, that’s not the way I heard it.” Dylan could see anger flash across Josh’s face.

  “Will someone please deal with him,” Josh asked.

  “Sure, Josh,” Highland said, as he walked over to Dylan, smiled at him slightly, then spit in his face.

  “I’d try a new toothpaste, if I were you: Garlic flavor doesn’t work so well.” Highland stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder.

  “You should feel proud of yourself, Dylan. You figured out something that the FBI couldn’t. You’re still going to die, but perhaps you’ll die with a sense of achievement. Right now, Conroy and half the Eastern District are on wild goose chases that don’t even exist. They are out looking for terrorists in all the wrong places. And we are on our way to Europe with 600 million dollars in profits.”

  “I have to admit,” Dylan said. “This is good. Real good.”

  “I’m glad you’re impressed. From a sharp fellow like you, that actually means something.”

  “McGarity,” Highland said, “I called the plane. The aircraft is ready.”

  “Good,” McGarity said. “But it looks like there’s going to be time for some fun. We have company.” McGarity pointed to an electronic surveillance camera that had captured an image of Vanessa.

  “Remmerling,” Highland snarled.

  “You’re a good recruiter, Dan. Glad to have you on the team.” McGarity turned towards one of the goons. “Turn out the lights and lock the door. Gary, go out and find her and send her my love.”

  The goon picked up his weapon and headed for the open corridor.

  Vanessa heard the electronic lock click behind her. The lights in the corridor also began to dim. She ducked into a small room next to the door. From inside, she removed a pair of infra-red goggles and put them on. She placed her backpack back on her shoulder. and then carefully began to make her way down the corridor.

  The corridor was long, with small rooms off to each side. Vanessa proceeded slowly and carefully. After fifty yards or so she froze. She could see a figure moving towards her, a hundred yards or so in the distance. Vanessa stood silent, then ducked into the nearest doorway.

  Her heart was beating wildly. She had discharged her weapon that night at her apartment, and that had been the only time in five years at the FBI. The thought of killing someone made her sick to her stomach. She would give this person a chance before she used lethal force. She gathered herself, raised her weapon, and carefully pointed it out into the corridor.

  “Freeze!” She shouted.

  The gunman had not been ready. By the time he raised his weapon, Vanessa had already fired twice. His fell instantly. His shots braised the doorway behind where she had stood.

  The man was down, and Vanessa did not bother to check his body. She made her way along the dark corridor until she came to the door from which the man had emerged. She made her way to her right, and immediately found another door that was locked. She removed her Swiss army knife from her pocket and quickly jammed it into the lock's cylinder. One quick hard turn of the wrist and the lock gave way. She shut the door behind her after she had scanned the corridor for other gunmen.

  Whoever had converted the warehouse to offices had done a poor job. Vanessa found herself walking in an area that still very much resembled a factory. The ground beneath her feet was gravel. The walls still consisted of wood beams and plaster, and above her head a crust of insulation was falling. She proceeded cautiously, and even with her goggles, the path ahead was dark. She took out her listening device and began to scan for sound. The device took her towards the Northeast corridor of the building. Her weapon was ready in case of a “misunderstanding”.

  Soon, she found herself staring at the side of a large wall. She scanned it up and down. She placed her listening device against the wall. The vibrating sound emitted seemed to indicate voices on the other side. Vanessa placed her ear against the wall. She thought she heard sounds, though she was not completely clear that they were the human voices. She knew, however, that there was no time for uncertainty. She was going to have to make a quick decision and follow through with it. Time was of the essence, and there was no time to waste.

  The construction in this part of the building was just as poor as the rest. Though new, the walls were worn, and much in need of repair. Holes were in the walls, from the top on down. There were slot-like openings for electrical wires and ventilation. The work on the HVAC system had yet to be completed, not to mention the electrical work. Vanessa looked around her. Vestiges of construction were scattered all around her. She found a chair sitting a few feet away, and hauled it towards the wall. She then stood on top of the chair and began inspecting the ventilation duct.

  The duct had been fully completed. though the exterior facing the wall was not. She could not tell how far the duct extended. Based on the strength emitted, the duct probably extended the full length of the wall, and down into the area from which the sound emitted. She got down from the chair, reached into her backpack, and began to set up the device.

  It consisted of three separate pieces: a propulsion device, a detonator, and the explosive itself. She had practiced this one hundred times. She readied the device and prepared herself for what she was about to do. She was only going to get once chance, and she needed to do it right.

  They had tied Dylan to a chair, using a piece of plastic tubing. He squirmed uncomfortably. The bind was tight, but he believed that he could break it, if the opportunity arose. He was waiting for the time to present itself, and then he would pounce. Highland stood barking into a silent walkie-talkie.

  “Someone is down, and Gary won’t pick up his radio. That means she’s loose in the building.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” McGarity snarled.

  “Then it’s time to go.”

  The geek at the computer suddenly chimed in. “We need ten more minutes to unwind the trades.”

  “We don’t have ten minutes. You’ve got five.” The geek’s face went white as he turned back to the screen.

  A phone suddenly began to ring loudly. McGarity looked around the room. “Whose phone is that?” Dylan ignored the question as he started to speak.

  “Is this where I die? Here?”

  “Do you have a preference?”

  “W.C. Fields preferred Philadelphia.”

  “You’re a funny man, even in death. But look on the bright side. You wanted your friend back: Now, you will be united in death. You’ll enter through the pearly gates together.”

  “Thanks, I was hoping maybe we could see a Yankee game.”

  “The national pastime,” McGarity said. “God bless America.” The phone was still ringing, as McGarity looked around the room.

  “Whose damn phone is that!” Highland looked at Dylan, and began to walk towards him. Dylan had on a light windbreaker, with a pocket inside for rainy days. Highland felt Dylan’s breast pocket and removed the phone. He identified the number and turned back towards McGarity.

  “Wh
o is it?” McGarity asked.

  “It’s Remmerling.”

  McGarity was taken aback. “She’s calling him, from inside the building?”

  “Yes. And there’s a text message too.”

  “What does it say?” Highland turned towards McGarity with a quizzical look on his face.

  “It says, ‘DUCK!’”

  The explosion arrived with a deafening thud, and shots rang out quickly across the building. Dylan broke free from his bindings and dived towards the geek. He pushed him from the computer, frantically typing as his eyes began to well up. In the cloud of tear gas and smoke, their poor aim had been his only saving grace. By the time the FBI had stormed the building, no one was left standing, including Dylan.

  Chapter 57

  The hospital room was private. It was nearing the end of visitor’s hours. Conroy and Vanessa strode down the antiseptic hallways bathed in neon light. Neither of them liked hospitals. Finally, they came to a room at the end of the hallway, Room 319. Besides the two beds in the room was a wall occupied with flowers. “Get well” cards plastered the door. The door to his room was open, and Dylan was sitting up in bed when they arrived. He greeted them happily when they walked through the door.

  “You have guests,” Vanessa said.

  “Hey,” Dylan shouted. “I was wondering when you would come.”

  “We do have jobs, you know.”

  “You call that work?” Dylan asked. He was fully upright in a hospital gown. One could see that his shoulder was heavily bandaged.

  “Hey, there’s someone else you might know here.” Dylan gestured towards the next bed. Binky was sleeping in the next bed over.

  “Wow, I didn’t know Binky was here.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan said. “We figured, if you’re going to be in the hospital, you might as well be with friends.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Not too bad. He’s still pretty weak. He lost a lot of weight. And they roughed him up pretty good. But he’s going to be fine.”

  “And how are you feeling?” Conroy asked.

  “Okay,” Dylan said. “My shoulder still hurts pretty bad, but it could have been worse. The doctor told me that one inch over, and….” Dylan then made a downward gesture with his hand. “Well, it would have been over.”

  “Well, Vanessa said, “let’s just be glad either the tear gas worked, or that they were lousy shots.”

  “What about Highland?”

  “They arrested him. They were able to prove that the whole scam about you and Stewart monitoring the trades was a scam to get access to your trading system. Once it was on our network, Highland was able to download one final copy. That’s what he tried to use.”

  “I see.” Dylan paused and rolled his eyes upwards towards the ceiling.

  Conroy leaned over towards Dylan. “I still don’t understand how you knew it was Shaffer Capital.”

  “Well, it was simple. The trades coming out of the other two firms were completely cancelling each other out. In other words, perfectly hedged. Highland needed a copy of my trading system, but he figured I would eventually discover the scam. Those two firms were boiler rooms, so it looked real.”

  “They were decoys. We know that.”

  “But how did you get the names? We had to get a warrant to speak to the Exchange.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan said. “Certain things I can’t tell, but can only thank my good friend over here. Once I had the names, I recognized the sequence of the order amounts: a perfect Fibonacci sequence. He knew that I would recognize it if it was out there.”

  “Trust me. I won’t forget what he did,” Conroy said.

  “And neither will I,” Vanessa said as she sat on the bed next to Dylan.

  “Any plans once you’re recovered?”

  “Besides, having a beer. No, not really. Maybe Hawaii for a couple of weeks, the south of France … to figure out what to do with myself. Then, after that, well, I guess I’ll need to find a job.”

  “So, when are you joining the FBI?”

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said with a laugh. “I’ll call you when the hospital releases me.”

  “You have my number.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan said. “I think I do.”

  Conroy glanced at both of them and smiled.

  THE END

  About the author

  Carey Keith Green is a novelist originally from California. He lives in New York and works on Wall Street. This is his second novel.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title page

  Chapter 1

  About the author