End of the World

by D Thomas Jewett

  “Duck!” Sheryl yelled, just as a loud boom! sounded simultaneously with the disintegration of the rear window.

  Sheryl snuck a glance back, noting that the bullet penetrated the rear window on her side of the car.

  “Shit!” Sheryl lifted herself back into the seat and watched the two men receding behind them. The men just stood and watched, one man holding a gun down by his side.

  Sheryl felt nothing. She said, “Who the hell were those guys; and why did they come after us?”

  She turned and looked over at Mark. His eyes were focused on the road as he drove; and with a grim, determined expression, he was intent on putting distance between them and the carjackers. She reached for Mark’s hand. Holding it, she faced forward, peering down the road.

  Sheryl didn’t feel her wet skin, nor did she notice her hands shaking. And her vision ... she didn’t even notice how her vision was changing. That her peripheral vision was shrinking – confining her field of view and her horizon, as though she were inside a tunnel with walls closing in on her. And as the tunnel narrowed, her vision blurred. Her sight, her hearing became horribly distorted, as though she were inside a barrel,

  She felt herself shaking, then more intensely. Sweating. Convulsing. And then she felt a welling of tears from deep in her soul, pouring out of her without control. Why did they want to kill us, she thought as her body convulsed. Her convulsions intensified, and then they began to diminish.

  Her vision began to clear; and the blur, the tension began to recede. I’m in the passenger’s seat, traveling down the road with my friend and lover, Mark. ... Oh Mark, how I love you ...

  She regained some measure of her focus and looked around her with surprise. They were parked in a convenience store parking lot, with cars moving back and forth behind them. And then she looked over at the drivers’ side, and her eyes connected with Mark. He was looking back at her.

  Finally, he spoke. “You were out of it, so I pulled off the road.”

  Sheryl reached out for Mark’s hand and grabbed hold. “Your hand,” she said, “it’s shaking!”

  His face hardened as he said, “Yeah, well. That was a tough deal.”

  “Hold me,” she whispered. “Please hold me!”

  He drew her close and held her.

  Time passed as they embraced. How much time? A minute? Two minutes? An hour? They didn’t know. But they finally let go and focused on their present situation.

  “So what do we do now?” Sheryl asked.

  “Shit!” Mark shook his head. “We – we report it to the police.”

  Sheryl pulled out her cell phone and dialed a telephone number. “I'm calling them now.”

  “911 call center. May I help you?”

  “Yes, this is Sheryl Barclay, and I'd like to report an attempted carjacking.”

  “Yes, ma'am. Is it ongoing, or has it been resolved?”

  “It just happened, but we're safe now – although the car's rear end is really smashed in.”

  “Okay, ma'am. I'm glad everyone is okay. Where did this happen?”

  “It happened at ... wait, just a minute.” Sheryl turned to Mark. “Where do we want to list this as occurring?”

  “About, ah – Hwy 210 just south of the beltway,” Mark replied.

  Sheryl began talking into the phone. “About Hwy 210 just south of the beltway.”

  “Okay, ma'am. I'll record this in our log and forward it to the local police. But you should know that we're getting a lot of calls today – a lot of things like this are happening. The police are also getting a lot of reports, so don't be surprised if the police response is, ah – delayed.”

  Sheryl raised her eyebrows. “What kind of reports are you getting?”

  “Oh. Well, we're getting way more than the usual number of thefts, burglaries, muggings, and carjackings. So I'm glad you're not harmed and that you were able to escape.”

  The 911 operator then continued. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

  “No,” Sheryl replied. “This is more than enough for one day.”

  “Then you have a good day,” the operator said.

  “Goodbye,” Sheryl ended the call.

  “What did she say?” Mark asked.

  “They're getting a lot more reports than usual – muggings, carjackings, burglary, etc.

  “Wow,” Mark replied. “So what do you want to do now? Go on to work?”

  “I Just want to go home.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Besides, this is Friday and most of the politicians are traveling – so anything that needs to be done can be put off ‘til Monday.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  When they arrived at the apartment, Sheryl turned on the television. A female newscaster came on screen.

  “ ... and there have been reports of widespread carjackings this morning; mostly in the areas of Alexandria and all the way into D.C. We now go to Robin Manners for a report at the scene:

  The on-the-scene reporter came on the screen. “Thank you, Kelly.” She turned to address the woman next to her. “I have here Madeline, a local resident, who was the victim of a carjacking this morning. Madeline, in your own words, can you tell us what happened to you this morning?”

  “Yes,” Madeline spoke through cut lips and a swollen jaw. Her eyes blinked behind the swelling in her face. “They came out of nowhere. There were two cars – one in front and one in my rear. The car in front stopped in the middle of the road; and then a man got out of the rear car and opened my door.” She choked and then continued through quivering lips and tears, “He – he hit me and hit me and dragged me out of the car. He – he kicked me when I was on the ground and then got into my car and drove off.” She looked into the screen. “He almost ran over me when he drove off!”

  The on-the-scene reporter interrupted. “Thank you, Madeline.” She turned back to the camera, “And that's our on the scene report. Back to you, Kelly.”

  “In still other news ...” Kelly continued.

  Sheryl shouted. “Hey Mark, they're talking about carjackings and burglaries all over the television.”

  Mark walked into the room, holding a gun at his side. “Oh? What are they saying?”

  “That break-ins and carjackings are widespread.” Sheryl then looked down to see the gun Mark was holding. She looked up at Mark, fear in her eyes. “Where – where'd you get that? Wha – what's it for?”

  Mark's face was hard, determined as he said, “We need protection. I'd say that this morning was a wake-up call, wouldn't you?”

  “Bu – but. Are you gonna shoot someone?”

  “Only if they attempt to hurt us,” Mark eyed her with wonderment. “Why? Is that a problem?”

  Sheryl clenched her mouth. “Do – do you really think we need that?”

  Mark's voice dripped sarcasm. “Were you not in the car this morning? What part of carjacking don't you understand?”

  “I need to change my clothes,” she said as she walked out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Daybreak in Idaho ... This time of year, the sun was rising directly east, as it did every year around the Spring Equinox. Brandy peered out the front window and scanned the area around the government vehicles, seeking any sign of movement. There was none.

  She was tired. Hell – we're all tired! The night seemed to wear on forever, ever so quiet but with the brilliance of the government agents' floodlights streaming through the windows.

  With twelve hours of daylight, the relief schedule dictated that each of the three receive about four hours of sleep – not enough to be refreshing.

  Bill came up and crouched down next to her. “Anything?”

  “Naw. They're probably just having breakfast,” she snickered. Then she turned and looked at Bill with concern on her face. “How're you doing?”

  “I'm doing okay,” he replied with a tired voice. “Although I'm wondering how all of this is going to play out.”

  “Yeah,” Brandy c
ommiserated. “Me too.” She paused in thought for a minute. “How's Murray holding up?”

  “I think he's doing fine. Except I'm sure he hates being in this position, and I don't think he expected it.”

  “Hell,” Brandy replied. “None of us expected to be in this shit!” She paused. “Do you have any notion of how they found our location?”

  “Hmmm. I've thought about it. And the only thing I can figure is that they followed Murray when he picked us up for the meeting with Dwayne. Or maybe they followed Dwayne?”

  “I'll vote for Dwayne being followed,” Brandy chimed in. “He lives day-to-day as a free man, so I'm guessing he wouldn't have noticed if someone was on his tail.”

  “You're probably right,” Bill replied.

  * * *

  “Hey Bill!” Brandy shouted. “Look at this!”

  Bill came up and looked out the front window. “Son of a bitch! How many do you figure are out there?”

  “Of our friends and neighbors?” She asked.

  “Yeah. It looks like a hundred or more. What do you think?”

  “I'd say a hundred – easy! Look. I see Dwayne and Trish out there!”

  “Cool!” Bill paused. “This is a helluva show of support, don't you think?”

  “Yeah,” Brandy grinned as her eyes met Bill's. “I can do this if I know there's people cheering for us!”

  “Me too!” Bill peered out the window for another moment. “I'll go tell Murray!”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “This might pick him up a bit!”

  Chapter 6 – Friday Evening

  Josh’s face was red. “Well – we’re screwed.”

  “Why?” Mikaela asked. “What happened?”

  “Well,” Josh sighed, “just a few days ago, the silver was loaded on a secure aircraft and flown to China. But you know that.”

  “So. What about it?”

  “They had it assayed.”[57]

  Mikaela raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Don’t tell me!”

  “Yep. All of it – every bloody bar is silver plated molybdenum.” Josh sighed and then added, “It’s all silver plated crap!”

  “Well – those damn crooks running SLV. They were storing plated bars instead of the real stuff.” She paused, eyeing him. “You’re right. We’re screwed!”

  “I guess we didn’t have that month’s leeway that we thought we had.”

  “Shit. I guess not!” Mikaela grew silent, and then said, “If we can’t come up with 50 million ounces of silver right away, we’ll have to declare force majeure.”

  The room became silent as they both stared down at the floor.

  “Short of having those Asian bastards killed, I see no way out of this.” Josh said. And then he continued, “We’d have to kill ‘em quick before word of this got out.”

  “Ten thousand contracts – fifty million ounces of silver.” Mikaela recited. “Well, I guess I need to tell Jimmy.”

  Mikaela picked up the telephone and dialed Jimmy’s inside line.

  “Jimmy? This is Mikaela.”

  “Hey, look. I’m sorry to bother you. We just got word that all of that silver we sent to China is silver-plated molybdenum.”

  Mikaela paused, listening.

  “Well ... yes. I know that, but ... damn it, Jimmy, we have no control over that. Those assholes running SLV were storing fake silver bars.”

  Mikaela paused, listening. And then she said, “No – no. The reason we drew down the SLV silver is because there isn’t any to be had anywhere else – Jimmy, Jimmy –”

  Mikaela paused, listening. “Damn it, Jimmy. There’s not enough silver to be had. It just doesn’t exist. So unless you can find a way to kill off those bloody Chinese investors, the jig is up.”

  Mikaela paused.

  “Okay. Okay. Gotcha.”

  Mikaela was grim as she hung up the phone and turned to Josh. “Well, he knows of nobody that has that quantity of silver. And,” her mouth spread into a grin, “he doesn’t have the means to have them assassinated – at least not quick enough to do us any good.”

  “Well. I guess we’re screwed.” Josh replied. “I canvassed every possible place that would have that quantity – it’s all locked up.”

  And then Josh rubbed his chin and said, “You know, this shortage is a consequence of our price suppression. The fact is that silver has been too cheap for a long time; and people could afford to buy a lot of it. And they did.”

  “I think we need to stay on track and address the issue. Not go off in the weeds analyzing the market.” Mikaela replied. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “No. I just don’t see any way out of this.” Josh replied. “Blimey! I’ll notify the Asian counterparty that we’re declaring force majeure on our delivery. I’ll let you know if they decide to negotiate.”

  “And while you’re at it, get those fake silver bars shipped back here so we can give them back to SLV. That way,” Mikaela smiled, “we won’t be arrested for peddling fake silver.”

  Josh stood up and began walking out of her office. He turned around and smiled. “Hey, you want to get together tonight? Maybe for the weekend?”

  Mikaela smiled. “At your apartment?”

  “Yeah, sure. It's close, and it's comfortable.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “But let's have dinner first – say, about 6:00 pm?”

  “Great!”

  “And let's send the butler and limo drivers home. I want to spend it just with you,” she said. And then she gazed at him with a seductive smile.

  “How about your security guy?”

  “I'll send him home too.”

  * * *

  Josh watched Mikaela from across the table. Gawd but she's ravishing, he thought. I love it when we have sex; especially the way she takes charge!

  Mikaela looked up from the menu. She giggled. “So, do you have any special needs for tonight?”

  Josh stroked the stem of his wine glass as he considered his answer. “Nothing that you don't already do, my love.”

  “My love?” She looked at him. “You mean, 'my lust', don't you?”

  “What's the difference?” Josh replied.

  “Not much,” she said, grinning.

  “Hey,” Josh continued. “I bought some new equipment!”

  “Oh?” Mikaela's curiosity was aroused.

  “Yeah. I've got this new rack that stretches ... well, I've gotta show it to you.” Josh was grinning. “But I think that –”

  Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter arrived. “Excuse me, may I take your order?”

  They gave the waiter their order. After he departed, they spent time sipping wine, while they waited for dinner to arrive.

  Josh took a few moments to glance around the dining room. Lord Cromwell's restaurant was for the affluent. Besides the mural on the ceiling, the walls displayed several fine works, and the art was enhanced with fine furnishings and appointments. Josh watched as the customary four waiters worked the table next to theirs'. I sure am glad they stay well in the background, he thought.

  As an afterthought, Josh took out his cell phone. “I’m turning this off. I want nothing to disturb us tonight.”

  “Ditto,” Mikaela said. She switched off her cell phone and smiled.

  * * *

  Silver market: AB Jorday Declares Force Majeure

  BEIJING, CHINA (International Press) April 19, 2019; 18:00GMT – Reports surfaced Friday, April 19, 2019, that a group of investors stood for delivery of 50 million ounces of silver; and that the counterparty – AB Jorday – declared force majeure on the delivery.

  Mr. Lin Wei Sung, a spokesman for the investment group, stated that AB Jorday is the counterparty to the ten thousand futures contracts that they hold. He further stated that AB Jorday representatives attempted to negotiate a cash settlement in lieu of silver delivery. Mr. Sung stated that they were surprised when AB Jorday informed them of the force majeure declaration; but they would not negotiate a settlement and, instead, leave it to the normal COMEX cha
nnels and bylaws to provide them compensation.

  * * *

  Josh and Mikaela were just finishing dinner, still enjoying small talk, when Josh wiped his mouth and frowned in thought. “You know. I’ve noticed more and more investors going long on both gold and silver. They know it’s coming to the end, and they don’t want to be stranded on the short side.”

  “Yes, I see it too,” she replied.

  “So, what are we going to do?”

  “Declare Force Majeure.”

  “Blimey!”

  “Well, what are our choices? We don’t have enough silver, and they’re not willing to deal for cash. So, we have no choice.”

  “Do you need to get your affairs in order?”

  “Yes. I still have some outstanding items to deal with. How about you?”

  “Oh. I’ve been expecting this for quite a while. I sold out my stocks as the market topped at 26,000, and dumped my bonds around the same time. So, I’m all set.” Josh replied. “Where will you go?”

  “South America. That’s where a lot of ‘em are going. It will get me out of the way of the mobs and rioting. Riots are so messy anyways.”

  The conversation paused for a moment. And then Josh spoke up. “We left kind of early today. I wonder how the New York markets did?”

  “Oh,” Mikaela chimed in, “it was probably just another day for them ...”

  * * * * *

  Despite the pandemonium and chaos on the trading floor, Tim spent much of the day on cloud nine. Still carrying last night's encounter with Lori, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Damn she’s hot, he mused.

  Lori wore a grin all day, at least so far as he could tell. Yet she said nothing about what she was feeling, focusing instead on her tasks as a broker and trader – providing advice, suggestions, and executing orders for her clients. And yet again, Tim felt passion wash through him. He smiled.