Brown, Dale - Independent 04

by Storming Heaven (v1. 1)

  “So, Drip, you might as well close the bank accounts and convert the whole enchilada into greenbacks,” Ysidro said. Townsend nodded his agreement. “We expect the cash in three days. Towney, I want to review the aircraft list with you by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have to rig up a trainer system, get charts of the targets, recruit some more flyboys, all that shit. There may be a way to get our hands on some military hardware—imagine using a couple Harpoon missiles or laser-guided bombs on O’Hare or LAX!”

  Ysidro took another swig, chuckling at Cazaux’s stem expression, noting with relief that Cazaux’s anger seemed to be all directed at Lake. Ysidro was a good friend of Henri Cazaux’s—at least, if Cazaux had a friend, it was Tomas Ysidro—but he still didn’t want to show any weakness to his boss or to the other officers, ever. If Cazaux ever failed to make it back from one of his missions, Ysidro and Townsend would battle for control of the organization and its assets, and he had to appear strong at all times. Townsend was smart and tough, but all those years as a Brit officer gave him an air of superiority that made everyone distrust him.

  “Relax, Henri, everything’s gonna be fine,” Ysidro said to Cazaux. “We got enough in reserve to get started on the explosives payloads for the first couple missions. Butcher and Faker can pick over that Seneschet warehouse in Massachusetts and see what they got, but it’ll be no sweat—I think we can pick up about seven or eight thousand kilos of ammonium nitrate from the waste-storage area, and we got about a thousand kilos of TNT in storage for the primer loads. The fuzing will be tougher—we may have to go out on the market for the first few. I got a contact in a National Guard armory in North Carolina where we might get some fuzes.”

  “I have information on some military ordnance,” Townsend said. “Several Air National Guard units recently returned from a European deployment, and much of their ordnance is in warehouses right over at Stewart International awaiting transportation to their home units. Their inventory counts never come out right after a big deployment. We can get gravity bombs, incendiaries, night-vision gear, the works. Drip, I’ll need some cash for earnest money.”

  “The name isn’t ‘Drip,’ you asshole, and there’s no fucking cash,” Lake finally snapped. All of the other officers turned to him in horror—all but Henri Cazaux, who had been looking in Lake’s direction for most of the meeting.

  Ysidro cursed. “What the fuck are you talking about? We got eleven million fucking dollars in the bank, Drip. The last meeting before the Chico mission was only eight days ago, and before that we had twenty million.”

  “That was before Korhonen flew that transport plane into San Francisco International and killed several hundred people,” Lake retorted angrily. “That was before three-quarters of the air traffic to the west coast was shut down. That was before every investor in Europe told me to fuck off backwards.”

  “You telling us you blew eleven million dollars in the stock market just since yesterday . . . ?”

  “I’m telling you that I lost one hundred million dollars yesterday, including this organization’s eleven million, because you”—Lake jabbed a finger at Cazaux, who was still staring at him—“decided to go on a joyride and blow up SFO. I lost everything I have, damn you, everything! I’m broke! I’m worse than broke. I’m ruined ...”

  Ysidro was on him like a panther, and before Lake could blink, Ysidro had him pressed up against the wall, a knife point pressed into his throat. The other staff officers had surrounded the two to watch the execution. “I think,” Ysidro said, his face pressed right up against Lake’s so he could feel his last breath as it gushed from his lungs, “we are about to need a new logistics officer.”

  “No,” Cazaux said evenly. “Let him speak.”

  “This fucker’s ripping us off, man.”

  “Let him speak, ” Cazaux ordered.

  His voice did not change, but the force behind Cazaux’s order seemed to everyone several magnitudes higher than the first. Ysidro glared at Lake, then held his head steady, gave him a cut on his neck about two inches long, licked the rivulet of blood, then spit it back in Lake’s face. “Fucking bean-counter,” he growled. “Unfortunately, you live for now.” The air in the room seemed to relax as Ysidro backed away.

  Lake was shaking like a man possessed, but more from anger than fear. He wiped blood from his eyes, put a handkerchief to the cut on his neck, and said, “I’ve been laundering money for this organization for three years, finding legitimate investments and creating legitimate business fronts, and I’ve done a very good job,” Lake said. “I’ve done a good job because I have been steering each mission, preparing the businesses beforehand.”

  “You haven’t done shit, Drip,” Ysidro said. “We hardly see you, and all you give us is Jew banker’s mumbo- jumbo.”

  “You think you can just walk into a bank with your terrorist checkbook and write a check for three or four million dollars?” Lake asked angrily. To Townsend he continued, “You think you can take seven million pounds sterling that you just got from an IRA bomber, convert it to dollars, and drop it in the automated teller machine at the corner bank, Townsend? The money has to look clean, and that takes work. The money has to be legitimately traceable down three dozen levels in the United States alone, and a dozen layers down in twenty other countries, all at the same time. Plus, you want me to research the financial on your targets, your clients, their governments, and their relations and principals all the way to the highest levels. I do that, each and every time, so when you make the deal or make the hit, we know exactly what all the players are going to do or say all over the world.

  “I can get you what you want and keep the cash in this organization flowing, but only if I call the shots,” Lake went on. “I was fully exposed when that LET hit the terminal, Henri, fully exposed. I lost everything! Now this damned psycho pulls a knife on me and tries to pin the blame on me. Well, go ahead and fucking kill me, Henri, . because if you don’t do it, some Japanese or South African investor’s hit squad is going to do it.”

  “He wants to die so bad, Henri, I will be glad to oblige him.” Ysidro laughed, brandishing the knife again. “No bean-counter is going to tell me what to do.”

  “You broke faith with this organization, Harold,” Cazaux said in a low voice. “The Army doesn’t wait for clearance from a banker before beginning operations. You knew that. Your duty was to keep the funds safe and secure, not engage in wild investment deals.”

  “Henri, you can’t keep eleven million dollars in cash in a shoe box under the bed,” Lake said. “You’re running an international organization, and you can’t efficiently run it with cash. You wanted real estate, business assets, licenses, government contracts, visas, letters of introduction, legitimate tax returns—you can’t use bloody cash to pay for legitimate stuff. You can launder a little bit of the stuff offshore in bank accounts, but sure as shit, the FBI or Treasury will eventually track it down, close down your U.S. operations and probably your overseas accounts. If you want legitimacy in the United States you have to dive deeper, get more creative, do more mainstream stuff. And you can’t do the same routine two years in a row, or even two months in a row, because the government tracks that stuff quarterly.”

  “I am tired of this sheep’s bleating, Captain,” Ysidro said. He reached out with the speed of a cobra and grasped Lake around the neck, digging his fingers deep into the financier’s flesh. “Allow me to put an end to it.”

  “Let him go, Tomas,” Cazaux ordered. He pulled out his .45 caliber automatic. “If he is to die, I will do it.” The sight of the gun pleased Ysidro, who released Lake and stepped back to watch. “Speak, Harold,” Cazaux said. “Say your last words quickly. Tell me why you should not be executed for what you have done.”

  At first Lake couldn’t breathe, which made him panic even more, but the sight of the big pistol squeezed the air out of his lungs. “I got one thing to say, Henri, and if you don’t like it, you might as well blow my head off, because my career on the Street is dead any
way. I’ve got an eigh- teen-million-dollar loan coming to me later today,” Lake said—not pleading, not whimpering, just stating a fact. “I can turn that into fifty million dollars if you follow my—” “You got our money?” Ysidro asked, grabbing Lake by the lapels instead of the neck this time. “You better hand it over, bean-counter.”

  “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 aft
er 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—”