“Thank God. I’m dying here.”
“Don’t worry, dickhead. You’re not going to die. But, you may wish you would unless I get a few more answers before help arrives,” I said, moving my gun closer to his leg.
“Hold on . . . goddamn it, just hold on with the fuckin’ gun barrel.”
“Okay,” I said, lowering my shooter, “I want a few answers. First off, who the hell are you?”
“My name’s Ike Moffit.”
“And where did you go to college, Ike?”
Luke cracked up, nearly choking on his chaw.
“College? What in the hell are you talking about?”
I chuckled. “Relax. I’m just having some fun. No reason this can’t be fun, Ike. So, what do you do when you’re not stealing core?”
“I run some numbers, do some loan-sharking, help people remember promises they made. That sort of shit.”
“I see. So, who were you supposed to call when the job was finished?”
“I’m to call a number and leave a message.”
“What number?”
“It’s on a piece of paper in my shirt pocket.”
“You right-handed or left-handed, amigo?”
“Right.”
“Okay, with your left hand, reach up, very slowly, and take the paper out of your pocket. Try anything cute, and I’ll do a little tap dance on your fibula.”
Ike retrieved the number and handed it to me. It was a Spokane area number.
“Thanks, pardner. Just rest easy. The law and paramedics are on the way.”
“Why’d you say you were calling your cousin?”
“I did call my cousin. Just so happens, my cousin is also the sheriff of Okanogan County.”
Deputy Haines and the medics arrived a few minutes later. Luke and I explained what happened while the medics loaded Ike into the ambulance.
“We’ll have to haul him to Brewster,” Haines said, carefully bagging and tagging Ike’s 9mm pistol. “It’s the closest hospital. When he’s able, we’ll book him into the county jail in Okanogan. You’ll need to come by and give a statement and file formal charges.”
“No, charges, deputy,” I said. “He wasn’t out to hurt anybody. He just wanted the core. I think I know who put him up to it, but there’s no way we’ll be able to prove it. Plus, the poor bastard will probably limp the rest of his life.”
“Well, if he’s a convicted felon, which I’d bet he is, with a hand gun, he’ll be going away.”
I smiled at Deputy Haines. “I think I can live with that.”
Nick Wetzel and the night crew were headed up to the drill when they drove up on us.
“Damn, Trace,” Nick said, looking at Ike on the gurney, “what in tarnation happened?”
“Luke here got hungry,” I replied. “I tried to get him some road-kill.”
“What?” Nick said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Dickhead in the ambulance tried to hijack our core,” I replied, pointing towards Ike.
“Did you shoot him?” Nick asked, looking at Ike’s bloody leg.
“No, but I ran over him pretty good.” I replied, with a chuckle. “Can you give Luke a lift back to the rig? Fill Red in, and tell everybody to be on their toes.”
“Will do, Trace. Do you need any help getting back to town?”
“No, I’ll follow the deputy. I’m good to go. Thanks.”
I pulled into Bob Malott’s yard and told him about the attempted hi-jacking. We stored the core boxes in the warehouse I’d rented and locked it up. Afterwards, I checked in with my cousin.
“Sheriff, Trace here. Have you spoken to Deputy Haines?”
“Yep, he gave me a rundown on what happened. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, nary a scratch.”
“Haines said you don’t want to press charges?”
“No. Poor old Ike’s just a flunky in this deal. I think I know who put him up to this, but we’ll never be able to prove it.”
“You think it’s Cyrus?”
“No one else. He knows we’re operating on a shoestring. I think his plan is to run us short of cash by making us re-drill holes. If we went broke drilling, he could step up with the cash to save the project.”
“The Virus for a white knight. Damnation,” Henry said, laughing. “So, where do you go from here?”
“We keep drilling, split and assay the cores, and head back to Vancouver with the results.”
“Uh-huh. Well, as a precaution, I’m going to have Deputy Haines stop by the rig from time to time. Sort of show the badge, like we discussed.”
“Thanks, Henry. I appreciate it.”
Coring on the second and third holes went off without a hitch. We cored nearly forty feet of strongly mineralized vein in each hole. Back in Winthrop, with the help of some of Bob’s crew, we got all the cores split and shipped to Mineral Valley Labs, in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.
It took about two weeks for the lab to report the assays. The cores averaged about seven-tenths of an-ounce gold per ton, One and a half percent copper and eight percent uranium. One hell of a vein.
I spent about a week putting together a first-class Power- Point presentation. Will and Wally worked the phones, setting up meetings in Vancouver with investors and brokers. We planned to do a round of dog and pony shows to launch our private placement.
For this round of financing, Montana Creek Mining Corp. would sell one million treasury shares of stock for fifty cents per share. Each share would have a three-year warrant attached for the purchase of an additional share, at seventy-five cents.
If the private offering sold out, the company would receive half a million bucks, less fees and commissions. The warrants could bring in an additional $750,000.
Now all I had to do was convince a bunch of very savvy investors that we’d hit the mother lode.
Chapter 7
Will and I met Wally at the Harbor View Hotel in Vancouver. Wally procured one of their large meeting rooms and invited about fifty brokers and analysts, plus a hundred investors, to attend our presentation.
At 9:00 sharp the next day, we kicked off the dog and pony show. I started running through and explaining each PowerPoint slide. When I clicked on the slide with the core assay results, the room went strangely quiet. It took a few moments for the mining analysts to realize they were looking at Athabasca Basin-type uranium grades. Then their cell phones lit up the room.
I noticed a tall, white-haired, older, but hard-looking- individual sitting toward the back of the audience. I looked over at Wally on the side of the stage and cut my eyes in the direction of the investor.
By noon, I finished the presentation, and we invited the participants to enjoy a light buffet. While the waiters set up the food, I located Wally and Will.
“What’d you think, fellows?” I asked.
“Good job, Trace,” Wally replied. “I know most of the brokers and analysts, and I could tell they were eating it up with a spoon. I have copies of the private-placement documents to all the brokerage houses. I think we’ll be oversubscribed.”
“Either of you notice the older, white-haired, gent sitting near the rear?”
Will nodded. “Yes, I noticed him, but I don’t know him.”
Wally laughed. “Fellows, you just gave a presentation to the Virus himself.”
“No shit. That’s Cyrus?” I asked.
“In the flesh,” Wally replied.
“Excuse me for a second, fellows,” I said, heading off in Cyrus’s direction. “I want to meet the gentleman.”
I worked my way through the crowd, shaking hands and thanking the participants for coming.
“Mr. McSweeny?” I asked.
“Nice pitch, Mr. Brandon,” Cyrus replied, extending his hand.
His hand was hard and dry as granite.
“Thank you, sir,” I replied, holding his grip until he loosened it.
“If the tonnage is there, you’re sitting on a world-class uranium deposit. Not to mention the gold and copper values.�
�
“Thank you, Mr. McSweeny.”
“Please, call me Cyrus.”
“Okay, Cyrus, I’m Trace. Are you interested in participating in the private share placement?”
“Could be, Trace. I’m always looking for good mining investments.”
“Sorry about Ike, his leg and all,” I said.
Cyrus looked at me. “Sorry, I don’t believe I know anyone by that name.”
I could tell by the flash in his eyes that, I’d hit a nerve.
“Oh, he is, or was, kind of an amateur rock hound. Had a big interest in our core. Said he was a friend of Thorny’s.”
“I see,” Cyrus replied, shaking his head. “Sorry, doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you Cyrus. I want you to know I appreciate your interest in Montana Creek Mining.”
“Thank you, Trace. I’ll probably buy a few shares in your offering, so I can follow your progress. A little equity keeps me interested.”
“Very good, sir. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
“I seldom am, Mr. Brandon,” Cyrus said, patting me on my shoulder.
Cyrus left the conference room and headed to the hotel bar to meet Bill Thornton.
“Well, Thorny, Brandon gave a hell of a presentation,” Cyrus said, taking a sip of his Crown Royal and water. “And he let me know he’d taken care of Ike.”
“Damn kid’s a player all right, and he’s latched on to a once-in-a-lifetime property,” Thorny replied.
“Appears so. Who’s the lead underwriter for their placement?”
“Vancouver Pacific Securities.”
“Thorny, get on the phone with our broker at Vancouver Pacific and tell him Twisp River Resources will subscribe to two hundred fifty thousand shares of Montana Creek’s private placement.”
“Yes, sir,” Thorny replied. “We may be hard pressed to get the two hundred fifty thousand. Judging from the reaction of the brokers at the presentation, I suspect the offering will be oversubscribed.”
“I have a good relationship with the principals over at Vancouver Pacific. They’ll get us the two fifty. I’ll start buying shares in the open market through our offshore account. If I can pick up another two fifty in the market, we’ll have half a million shares. Well, below the ten percent reporting level, but enough to flex some muscle.”
Back in our hotel suite, Wally briefed Will and me on sales of the private-placement shares.
“Vancouver Pacific Securities received subscriptions for five hundred thousand shares right after the presentation,” Wally reported. “Northern Equities placed two hundred and fifty thousand shares, and Baystreet Securities and Commonwealth placed the balance. Boys, we’re totally subscribed.”
“Nothing like eight percent uranium grades in a hot market to spark a feeding frenzy,” Will said, rubbing his hands together.
“Damn, fellows. This calls for a celebration,” I said. “Let’s have supper and a night on the town.”
We hit Vancouver’s Chinatown like MacArthur hit Inchon.
The next morning, with near-terminal hangovers, Will and I headed back to Ellensburg. When Wally recovered, he’d see to depositing the net proceeds from the share sales into Montana Creek Mining’s bank account.
Wally called my office a few days later.
“Trace, just wanted to let you know we’re trading around twenty thousand shares per day. Not too bad with only a million shares in the float. And were hanging in around sixty cents per share.”
“Anyone in particular buying a lot of shares?” I asked, thinking about the Virus.
“Hard to tell, Trace, but Cayman Island Securities is a buyer. No large blocks, but steady buying, especially on dips. The shares are held in street name, so no way tell who they’re buying for.”
“Better get an updated shareholder list from the transfer agent every couple of months. I don’t want any surprises.”
“One other thing did catch my attention, Trace. The largest subscriber to our private placement was a company called, Twisp River Resources.”
“How much did they take down?”
“About half of what we allocated to Vancouver Pacific. Two hundred fifty thousand shares.”
“Do you know anything about them?”
“Not much. So, I pulled their corporate records up online. They’re a small privately held mineral-exploration company based in Vancouver. But, get this, according to their filings, all their outstanding shares are owned by an outfit called Carib International, Corp. Want to guess where Carib is based?”
“Caymans?”
“Good guess.”
“So, if the buying through Cayman Island Securities is related to Twisp River’s buying, they’re building a serious position in our shares.”
“Seems to fit the information we have,” Wally replied. “The sixty-four thousand dollar question is, what’s their end game?”
“Maybe they just like the Sullivan Mine, or maybe they’re looking for a seat on our board.”
“Yeah, or maybe they have something else in mind down the road.”
“Hostile takeover? Ain’t happening, Wally. Not with me holding three and a half million shares, and you and Will with a half million each.”
“Agreed, Trace. But as we do additional financings, our ownership will get diluted. Plus, I’m a little worried about Richard Rosenburg. I’ve heard some talk on the street. Could be he’s in a little financial trouble, and he holds the other half million founders' shares.”
“The public market can be a damned rough place,” I whispered, to myself.
“What’d you say?” Wally asked.
“Nothing, just something someone once mentioned in passing.”
“Well, I’ll keep an eye on the trading and Richard, and keep you boys posted. Just keep the drills turning to the right.”
I knew Wally was correct. There was nothing to be done about Twist River or the buying coming out of the Caymans. But Rosenburg’s founders' shares could be a big problem. If he was bleeding money, the Virus would smell it like a damned great white.
I worked up a second round of core drilling. We’d drill three more holes from the original drill sites, but at sixty-degree angles. The steeper angle would allow us to intersect the vein at a much deeper depth and, if successful, would increase our indicated reserves greatly.
I also planned three more drill locations, one thousand feet apart along the trend, or strike, of the vein. We’d also drill two holes from each of the new locations, again, at forty-five and sixty degrees.
The program would give us a total twelve holes, and go a long ways toward developing additional reserves. I also knew, if the core results continued to be positive, Montana Creek Mining shares were fixin’ to take off.
*****
“The kid has permitted nine new holes at the Sullivan,” Thorny said, handing Cyrus a cup of coffee.
“Who the hell trained this guy?” Cyrus asked, sipping the very hot black coffee.
“Best I can tell, he worked about eight years with Continental Minerals, down in Denver. Doing mainly uranium exploration.”
“So he’s no rookie, at least in mineral exploration. We’ll see how he does in the public sector. What’s our ownership position in Montana Creek Mining?”
“About seven percent.”
“Okay, I think it’s time we shake their tree a bit. I want to try and get one of our people on Montana Creek’s board. It can’t be me, I have a damned felony conviction. And you, well, you’re a bit too close to me.”
“What about Malcolm Trueblood? He’s president of Twisp River Resources, has an MBA, and is clean as the pope’s underwear.”
Cyrus laughed. “Good choice, Thorny. He’s done a good job with Twisp, and he’s smart and knows the public markets. Have Malcolm contact Montana Creek’s board and see how they react.”
I’d just hung up from talking to Red. He and his crews were drilling the first of the sixty-degree holes. The phone rang, and I picked
it up, thinking Red had forgotten to tell me something.
“Yes, sir. Forget something?” I said, with a chuckle.
“No, I don’t believe so, Mr. Brandon. This is Malcolm Trueblood with Twisp River Resources in Vancouver, Canada.”
“Sorry, Mr. Trueblood. I thought you were my driller calling back.”
“Oh, are you drilling again?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve started a second round. Just spudding in our fourth hole, as we speak.”
“Well, as a shareholder, I am of course pleased to hear the news.”
“There’ll be a press release at close of trading today. So, what can I do for you, Mr. Trueblood?”
“Excellent, Trace. May I call you Trace?”
“Surely.”
“Well, Trace, as you no doubt know, Twisp River bought two hundred and fifty thousand shares of your private placement, and our holding company has acquired a similar number of shares in the open market."
“By holding company, I take it you mean Carib International?”
“My compliments, Trace. I see you’ve done your homework.”
“Well, we like to know who are shareholders are. Especially our larger shareholders.”
“Which brings me to the purpose of my call, Trace. Twisp and Carib now own a bit more than seven percent of Montana Creek Mining. We feel very strongly we should have some representation on your board of directors.”
“I see. And who would you propose we add to our board?”
“If it’s not too presumptuous, I would like to nominate myself.”
“What’s your background, Malcolm?” I asked, thinking, yeah, it is pretty damned presumptuous.
“MBA from Stanford, fifteen years with GoldEx in Vancouver, and the last five years as CEO of Twisp River Resources. I’m widowed. My wife was killed in an auto accident some years ago. We had no children. Other than work, my main passion is flying. I hold a number of ratings and have several thousand hours of flight time."
“I am also well connected with the securities and financial markets in Vancouver and Toronto. I am assuming you will be moving off the Vancouver Stock Exchange and onto the Toronto Exchange as soon as you meet the listing requirements?”
Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) Page 5