Big Money

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Big Money Page 8

by James Hudson


  “Yes!” Oleg Korolev exclaimed. “I do realize that the politicians enjoy playing games with the electorate during electoral campaigns. I mean, the politicians can announce some crazy campaign slogans in order to create foreign enemies.”

  “Oh, no, Mr. Korolev. I bet that Russian or North Korean politicians adore creating external enemies. But people in Europe and the US elect new politicians to live a better life. New politicians – new ideas, new goals, new results.”

  “Yeah, and your sincere politicians are trying to suffocate Russia gradually, Mr. Hartley. They are afraid to act decisively. I hate that! I want to speed up the process. I want to expedite the imposition of new sanctions. Russia should do something to make Europe and the US very, very angry.”

  “Wow!” George Hartley exclaimed. “I like your train of thought. What’s that gonna be, the annexation of the new territories? You wouldn’t do it alone. And I’m sure you’d have a tough time if your country set off a new war.”

  “No, no!” Oleg Korolev cried out. “There must be something very cheap and highly effective.”

  “Let me guess! I bet the reporters shouldn’t be involved… Well, maybe… You want to cause a quarrel between the Presidents? I don’t think you’d be able to force your President to do something against his own will.”

  “Mr. Hartley,” the oligarch giggled. “There is a much easier way. Do you remember a scandal about ten years ago when a Russian secret service agent was poisoned?”

  “Of course!” George Hartley grinned. “Poisoned by polonium!”

  “Yeah, the British authorities were infuriated. That case had a significant impact on Russian-British relations. The relations worsened in a flash. The fragile peace was destroyed.”

  “So, what’s your point?”

  “No need to invent something extraordinary, Mr. Hartley. I know a Russian spy, a former intelligence officer who lives in Britain. In Russia, he’s sentenced to death for treason. He’d left Russia for Britain many years ago. I know he still betrays a lot of state secrets. As I know, he finishes writing a book. He’s gonna reveal some shocking details about Russian President. And we’re gonna have elections soon. I bet if I remind the President about that spy and his compromising material… Just one word of our President and I’ll have his permission to ‘solve the problem.’”

  “How?”

  “This guy will be poisoned by chemicals. Why not? We just repeat the situation that took place ten years ago. Russia could send intelligence agents to the place. By the way, that Russian spy lives in Salisbury, England.”

  George Hartley chuckled. “You want me to cover up the operation?”

  “Absolutely, not! I’ll tell you more. They must act like non-professionals. You heard me right! The must be spotted by British police, by surveillance cameras… The UK officials must immediately accuse Russia of committing the crime.”

  “Wow!” George Hartley exclaimed cheerfully. “I got you! And this is genius! I’m impressed. Poor diplomats! Ha, ha! Hundreds of naïve people try to build good-neighbor relations between the two countries. And here you are, Mr. Korolev!”

  “Money rules big Russian minds,” the oligarch remarked. “I’m one of the slaves to money, Mr. Hartley.”

  “I see! But tell me, what are you expecting after everything happens?”

  “Economic sanctions are inevitable, Mr. Hartley. Against my aluminum company. I’ll make it possible that the British police will find the evidence against me.”

  George Hartley laughed. “Well… this is just insane… Even for me! So, summing all up… CEO of the aluminum company sends intelligence agents to England to poison the Russian President’s enemy.”

  “Well, that’s right, Mr. Hartley. It may seem strange, but sometimes we, the Russian officials, and big businessmen have to run errands for our President. In return, the President guarantees us immunity.”

  “Immunity in Russia means an option to go beyond the laws, right?” George Hartley grinned. “Immunity to steal billions from the federal budget—”

  “You want to make money too, don’t you, Mr. Hartley? Right before the operation, we open short positions in the market. I will sell the stocks of my company and buy aluminum futures. Just imagine the panic… The biggest aluminum company in the world stops producing and exporting the aluminum because of the sanctions.”

  “OK, we can sell the stocks, quickly ruining the market. But we have to buy them back. Who will sell a huge amount of stocks to us at the lowest price?”

  “Chinese!” the oligarch exclaimed. “The stocks of my company are listed on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange.”

  “Awesome!” George Hartley grinned. “I’ve always wanted to fuck the Chinese!”

  “Me too,” Oleg Korolev laughed. “So, I know that one Chinese fund invested a lot of money. I know their average stock price. They used leverage as well. So, if the price moves down significantly, they’ll have to sell their stock to meet the margin requirements.

  And also, we should buy aluminum futures right before the operation.”

  “Great!” George Hartley exclaimed. “I like everything!”

  “So, you’re in?”

  “Yes. But why did you actually tell me all this?”

  “I’m rich on a scale of Russia, Mr. Hartley. But the European and American hedge funds are hugely more successful than me. And I heard you liked such ventures. I thought you could invest about 80-90 million dollars. You could make 30-40 million more in three-four months or even much earlier.”

  George Hartley was silent for a while.

  “This is quite a big sum of money. And the risks are high. How can you be so confident in sanctions? What if the countries respond differently to this whole operation?”

  “So, you’re out?” the oligarch asked nervously. “Are you afraid?”

  “I’m never afraid, Mr. Korolev. I just need guarantees. How about gifting your stocks to me if something goes wrong?”

  “Wow! You’re a tough cookie, Mr. Hartley!”

  “I have a better idea. I need all your contacts in Russia. Your business partners, Russian politicians, oligarchs.”

  “Wow! Why would you need it?”

  “Money comes to me from the other people, Mr. Korolev. The more people I know, the more money I can potentially make. Imagine that you have only one friend who has 200 friends. That means you can possibly contact with 201 people. And if I know 100 people, just count…

  As far as I know, the Russian President chose the worst foreign policy strategy – isolation. It’s a lonely road to nowhere. No new friends, no perspectives, no money.”

  Suddenly, the Chinese cell phone in the pocket of Oleg Korolev recorded a loud noise.

  “The restaurant is closed!” the oligarch suddenly barked. “Fuck off!”

  “Whoa! Easy, man!” George Hartley hissed. “You don’t want problems with the police anymore, do you?”

  “How dare you talk to me like that?” a female voice cried.

  “Get the fuck out!” Mr. Korolev roared.

  “Waiter!” a rude male voice shouted.

  “We booked the table, and we’re not going to leave!” the female voice cried vehemently.

  “Hey you… don’t push my wife!”

  Sounds of the struggle followed—no sign of the waiter or the security guards.

  “Stop it, idiot!” George Hartley barked. “Mam, we’re very sorry! My friend is just drunk. He’s very upset because he broke up with his wife—”

  “Nonsense!” the oligarch screamed.

  “Apologize to my wife!” the male voice roared. “Police!”

  “He’ll never apologize!” George Hartley cried. “Don’t ask him!”

  “Why?” the woman asked curiously.

  A sudden silence followed.

  “I bet he’d never done this before!” George Hartley remarked.

  “It’s a shame!” the man said.

  “Only if you’d been a Russian President, lady, my friend would apologize to you.�
��

  20. Who is Mr. Hartley?

  The audio recording ended. Unfortunately, the Chinese cell phone ran out of power.

  We were very impressed by what we heard. What was planned – actually happened later – two Russian intelligence agents poisoned the former intelligence officer who had lived in England. The international scandal immediately erupted. The sanctions against the biggest Russian aluminum company were imposed. The stocks plunged 80% in two days.

  George Hartley was a real businessman. He took part in the venture. Mr. Hartley was ready to go far beyond the law. At the same time, he was friendly, could easily communicate with the police. George Hartley differed from lots of billionaires because he always tried to evade publicity. He knew that publicity could lead to failure. He enjoyed being a cunning diplomat, an authoritarian leader of his company, and a puppet master in the financial markets. He enjoyed deceiving millions of people and making thousands of people bankrupt.

  But we are not sure whether or not he enjoyed his financial results. How did he spend this money? What did he feel? We think he sought neither fame nor power. So, what did he actually do? Did he vent his anger on the whole world?

  We are sure we’re not the only people watching George Hartley. He has a lot of enemies. Hundreds of them are envious of Mr. Hartley. Many businessmen are eager to replace him. It’s just a matter of time before a new leader takes charge of his business.

  21. Responsible Mission

  George Hartley shuddered when someone knocked at the door of the hotel room where he had been sitting the whole day, reading the secret documents. Now he was scared. He completely realized what kind of person he had actually been. They want me, want my money, want to replace me, want to know everything that I knew.

  “Who’s there?” George asked, having approached the door.

  “It’s Katie!” the cheerful female voice exclaimed. “The student you asked to rent this room!”

  “Shh!” George hissed, flung the door open, and let the girl in. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to bother me—”

  “I brought you coffee!” she exclaimed and handed him a big plastic cup.

  “Sip!” George ordered.

  “What?” she raised her eyebrows. “Are you kidding? You think it’s poisoned?” Her blue eyes sparkled with joy and interest.

  I’m strange, George thought. That’s why I attract her attention. Oh, shit… I can’t believe anyone right now.

  “Look,” he said warmly. “I like you, Katie. But I have a lot of work to do. And I am having a great deal of trouble—”

  “It’s OK! Everyone has a lot of work to do!”

  “I think I’m too old for you,” George muttered.

  She laughed.

  “I’m not a child! I’m eighteen. And I’m a future reporter.”

  George twitched. Reporter and publicity – these are the last things I need.

  Katie winked at him. “You are a mystery! I like queerness. And you lied to me! You’re not American. Your accent, George… Why did you deceive me?”

  “You’re gonna be a good reporter,” George grinned. “Or even an investigator. Actually, I think I have some work for you.”

  “Really?” her face brightened.

  “Yes. Give me your email and go away. And never come back. I’ll send you the details of your mission.”

  “Wow! Mission… Promise?”

  “Look, my life is not fun at all,” George said harshly. “Any minute, a bunch of armed criminals can burst through this door and twist our necks.”

  “Wow!” Katie gasped in delight. “I bet you’re one of those dreamers who has watched so many movies that you believe that somebody is going to kill you.”

  “Holy shit! Just leave me now!” George facepalmed.

  “Are you hiding someone? A girl in the bathroom? A young man in a wardrobe? Under the bed, huh?”

  Although Katie was smiling all the time, George could feel that the girl could pose a real threat to him. She was a charming chatterbox and quite a pretty young woman. Under other circumstances, George would probably become closely acquainted with her. But she was too perky, too conspicuous. He needed to get rid of her. Or everyone in London would know soon where he’s hiding.

  “Listen to me carefully,” George started slowly. “A woman lives in India—”

  “Great!” Katie chuckled. “More than five hundred million women live in India.”

  “I’m talking about one woman who lives in India in poverty. She hates me. I can… feel her hatred at a distance.”

  “Honey, we can hate each other at a distance!” Katie laughed.

  “Don’t speak so loud!”

  “Don’t act like you’re my father!” She pinched his hip.

  “Listen! You have to go to India!”

  “Are you kidding, George? Let’s go to the cinema!”

  “You need to find this woman!”

  “You’re irresistible, George! I bet you’ve seen millions of movies!”

  “I’m fucking serious!” he roared.

  That sounded rude. She stopped dead. But she wasn’t scared. She was excited!

  She’s not afraid of danger, George thought. She’s a real news reporter.

  Then George was unaware of what he was doing. Every minute, he became more and more obsessed with the idea that he must help that woman in India. He hated the thought that she’d hated him for many years. He felt guilty that he’d made her suffer. He knew he would feel much better if he started correcting mistakes of the past.

  “I’m going to buy you a ticket to India,” George said quickly. “You’re flying tomorrow. I’ll pay you two thousand right now and five thousand when you come back. Just find the woman and give her 100 grand…”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “This goes beyond a joke,” she chuckled. “Actually, I don’t want to go to India. It’s dirty and nasty out there. How about Italy? Or France? Do you have women who hate you there?”

  George sighed heavily.

  “Give me your cellphone!” he ordered.

  “Why? You want to call my mom and tell her I’ll be late tonight?” she giggled.

  “Do you have a foreign passport?”

  “Of course!”

  “Great! You’re flying tomorrow!”

  “What about the visa?”

  “Let’s see…” George took her cell phone, typed something, and a minute later said, “Apply online, and they’ll send you the e-visa in two days. Do it right now! All right… you’re flying the day after tomorrow.”

  At last, the smile died on her lips.

  “Wait… I see you’re serious… How will I find this woman? What should I do? Why does she hate you?”

  “I received a letter from her recently. I can’t show it to you. But I’ll give you her email address. You’ll write her something like, ‘The man whom you hate wants to apologize.’ You must hand-deliver the money. That’s all.”

  Katie stood for a while, fumbling with the buttons of her blouse.

  “What have you done to her? Dumped her?”

  “I… I can’t remember, Katie.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “No,” George shook his head. “I just don’t want her to suffer anymore.”

  “Why won’t you just transfer funds?”

  “That would be as cold as charity,” George said thoughtfully.

  “OK. And… one more thing… How will I cross the border with this money? What if I get arrested at the airport? You must’ve never been abroad, and you don’t know the rules—”

  “Oh, yeah! I’ve never been abroad!” George grinned. “I don’t care how you deliver the money. It’s your mission. You’re a courier. You don’t need to do anything else – just deliver it! If you’re a smart girl, you’ll make a bank transfer, or buy stocks and transfer them to this woman, or buy a cryptocurrency and tell this woman a password to the digital wallet.”

  His tone was cold. He could feel that he was talking like a boss to the empl
oyee.

  “I… I shouldn’t have come here,” Katie muttered. She was pale now—no smile in her eyes.

  “Look, I’m paying you for this,” George said. “Easy money. It’s up to you, of course. You can decline my offer. But that would be foolish.”

  Katie took the money he gave her and left, having shut the door. George felt he should’ve been softer. But he had a feeling that he did everything right.

  22. Sarah

  “George! Is that you?” a surprised female voice exclaimed.

  George shuddered. Shit! A woman again! He turned around.

  A few minutes ago, he’d put his laptop, the documents and the rest of the money in the safe, and left the hotel to buy some food and coffee. He didn’t touch the coffee that Katie had brought him two hours ago, although the smell of the beverage drove him crazy. He waited till evening, and then, in the drizzling rain, he decided to go outside. Thousands of thoughts swirled in his head. He didn’t want to meet anyone – enough information for today. But he fully understood that he didn’t have much time to plan his next step. The people who wanted to kill him would hardly forget about him.

  “Who are you?” he asked quickly, staring at an attractive blonde about thirty in a red leather jacket. She had straightened hair, a bit strong jaw, thin lips. She didn’t look very feminine – she had an athletic figure, probably lifted weights.

  “Sarah!” she exclaimed, shaking his hand. Her handshake was powerful. “Why can’t you remember me? I haven’t changed!”

  George noticed disappointment in her grey eyes.

  “Of course, Sarah!” he exclaimed theatrically. “Nice to meet you! How could you notice me? It’s so dark!”

  “I remember a birthmark on your left cheek! It’s still there!” she laughed and pinched him on the cheek.

  George frowned. “I don’t have much time. I just need to buy some coffee and snacks.”

  He started slowly moving toward the grocery store.

  “You’ve always loved healthy food,” she giggled.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Chips, hamburgers, whiskey… But wait! A secretary always made coffee for you! What happened?” She glared at him.

 

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