The Financial Terrorist

by John Gubert

  Charles nodded, “Maria is heading for America. She wants to buy a ranch. My parents will stay in the South of France. Giovanni will retire to California. There are some people who hate us out there. The British Secret Service is unhappy with our role and the cards we hold. The Di Maglio nephews cannot feel good about us. And we need to set things straight.”

  They did and quickly. Two months later, there was no need for them to be in London. Somehow everything seemed quiet. The guarantees were all extinguished. His father would advise them of investments from the luxury villa near St Tropez. Giovanni retired to La Jolla in Southern California and told them bitterly he never wanted to see them again. Maria had bought her ranch in Colorado and called them occasionally as if she wanted to be around if they re-launched their business. Douglas and his wife ran their place in the Maldives and also the summer retreat in the hills of Northern California. And he arranged their safety as only he knew how.

  Many had been killed. Some deserved it. Others had to die to allow them to meet their objectives. Some had been charged and jailed with frauds they committed without knowing. Life had been good for some and cruel to others. That was their fate.

  It was now time to relax with Jacqui, Juliet and little Claire. They were on the bay beneath the house. The sand was golden. The sky was blue with little puffs of white as the clouds made their occasional incursion onto the horizon. The water was warm and clear. There was a landing strip about a mile from the house for supplies to be flown in. The yacht was moored a few hundred yards on the left.

  Jacqui and Charles walked along, Juliet trotting alongside them. He was carrying little Claire. They all sat on the sand. The water lapped around them. The sand was warm beneath them. A gentle breeze came in from the sea. All was peaceful.

  “We made it in the end,” said Jacqui.

  “We made it, but it was more dangerous than I thought,” he replied.

  “But next time we can do it without the Mafia snapping at our heels,” she said.

  “Will there be a next time?” he mused.

  “Well yes, we’ll not stop now. We’ll never stop. We’ll need to think about the future. Not today, not tomorrow. Not even next month. We’ll spend the winter here in the Maldives. We’re safe on our private island. In summer we’ll head over to California. Then some time, once the immediate past has been forgotten, we’ll be back. You know that.”

  He smiled. “The Rossi team will be back. One day, the cult of the equity will be challenged. There will be the inevitable crisis. And then cash will be king. And we have cash. We’ve ridden one global crisis in Asia and one market boom with IBE.

  Next time, we’ll take out Associated and create the biggest financial institution in the world. The fools who run the financial markets will not be able to withstand our pressure or our tactics. We know their weaknesses. We know their strategy. One day Sir Piers and the others will finally learn never to trust us for one moment.”

  Jacqui lent over and kissed him. Juliet paddled in the warm water in front of them. Baby Claire crawled towards her. “Then we will really call the shots; and globally. More powerful than governments, one step ahead of the so-called professionals, deeper pockets than anyone else in the market, we will be the ultimate insiders.”

  Charles smiled contentedly, “Live. Enjoy. Love. Enjoy. And then, if we need that bit extra, we’ll take over the world. ”

  A gull swooped down and squawked at him. Did it agree? Did it object? Who would ever know? Its comment was as indecipherable as the trails they had never left behind. He took Jacqui in his arms and they rolled over in the sand and into the shallows where Claire and Juliet joined them. They played on through the late afternoon and then headed back to the house.

  There, amid the high tech electronics of his sea view study, Charles plugged into his father’s analyses of the target banks. The records were being set up. The process was already under way. It was evening in the Far East but morning in New York. The stage was already chosen. The timing was not clear. But when the time came, then the world would see again the return of the ultimate insiders, Rossi and Di Maglio. Only the world would never suspect wrongdoing. Money scares. Few knew with certainty the truth about the financial terrorist. And, for those who did know, the price of indiscretion could be death. And so it would prove to be for anyone who had the temerity to cross them.