The entirety of the room, except that part of it directly below the Device, swiveled into view. The orange and white dots were now facing each other from opposite sides of the room. The yellow dot was superimposed over the rectangular, covered object that I could see lying on the floor just northwest of room center.
I watched ten men moving or standing about. Khan approached and was talking to Salim, who had his head lowered, averting his gaze from this man who directed his fate. Miguel was talking with one of his men, then nodded his head, turned and left the room through a door other than the one he had used to enter it. As he walked through the door, I could see other Mexican and Pakistani men in the adjoining room, cots and assault rifles resting against a wall. Of the 7 other men in the room with the yellow dot, five were Khan’s and two belonged to Soares. One group of ultra-fanatics watching another and both groups together standing watch over a horseman of the apocalypse – death on a grand scale.
“Salim’s Device is now in sleep mode to conserve battery power.”
“Power-span of the three Devices in the room displayed on the screen?”
“Yellow: 144 hours. Orange: 115 hours. White: 122 hours. I believe more than sufficient for operational purposes.”
“I agree, my friend.” When I had first begun the surrealistic experience of working with the Machines, I had treated them as just that – machines, tools. I had kept them at a distance, as you would a computer – though one that talked. But after my first two years of working very closely with them, I found that my interaction with them changed. During missions, their voices were nearly always the only Grid voices that I heard; they were the things with which I interacted the most. In that third year, I found they had stopped being things and had become in my mind – perhaps the best word is – entities, something more than things, but not human. After they saved my life on two occasions, I started to think of some of them as friends.
“Acknowledged.”
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A knocking sound on dense wood.
“The Director of the Mexican First Bank is arriving at Soares’ office.”
“Show me. Internal sound.” The Tablet image changed to show me the interior of Soares’ office. I would hear the audio through the internal micro-speakers embedded near my eardrums.
Maria appeared at the open door to Soares’ suite. “Senor, the Director is here to see you.”
“Excellent, Maria. Please show my old friend in.”
Maria stepped to the side and a large man of Soares’ stature walked into the room. He had white wavy hair, combed back from his face and forehead, and a white moustache of medium length, both immaculately cut. He wore his light-colored suit, white shirt and light brown-colored tie impeccably. His shoes were highly polished. He walked with authority and natural poise as he approached Soares. He appeared to be everything that the Grid’s information about him declared – one of the aristocracy of Mexico’s financial elite.
He and Soares embraced and kissed each other on the cheek. Both were smiling as they stepped back from each other – like two politicians during a photo opportunity. A scion of the international banking community meeting a world-class narco-criminal. The subject of money and profit was surely on the table, I thought.
“Manuel, may I offer you your usual black coffee and ice water?”
“Yes, thank you, Gomez. That would be pleasant.”
“Maria, please, and just water for me.”
“Yes, Senor.” She stepped back through the door and disappeared, closing it silently.
Soares took Ramirez by the right elbow, gently turned him and guided him toward a set of leather couches set back from his desk and the four leather chairs he had shared earlier with Khan and Miguel.
“Please, my old friend,” Soares said as he gestured toward one end of the sofa facing his desk, inviting the banker to sit.
“Thank you, Gomez.” As he took his place, the banker looked down and gestured at a small bouquet of white roses that sat in a small crystal vase on the table of highly polished wood that sat between the two couches. “Always tasteful, Gomez. Your office, you, your life. I have always admired that.”
As he took his seat at the other end of the same couch, I watched Soares give the banker one of his Hollywood smiles at these words. “How very kind of you, my old friend,” he replied.
A knock on the door and Maria entered, carrying a silver tray bearing their refreshments. She placed the tray down on the highly polished wooden table in front of the two men and stood. She looked at Soares, waiting. He looked up at her. “Thank you, Maria. Please ensure that Director Ramirez and I are not disturbed.”
“Yes, Senor.” She smiled at both men, turned and left the room.
Once the door had closed fully, Ramirez leaned back into the plush couch, nodded toward Soares and said, “I want to thank you again, Gomez, for inviting us on your sailing yacht last week. You spoiled us. Carmen has been speaking of nothing else since. We both had a wonderful time. I must say the helicopter landing aboard was a bit exciting this time. You are an excellent host and friend.”
Soares stretched out both hands in front of him toward his guest, palms upward. “You are my oldest and dearest friend, Manuel. I still often think of our boyhood days together with much affection. It was a great pleasure for me. Dolores and I are looking forward to our next opportunity to have you on board and next time, perhaps a longer cruise to enjoy more of the sea air. We love it!” Someone like Soares, the leader of a large and ruthless drug cartel, must have many, many so-called friends – but not many real ones, I thought. I wondered if Ramirez was one of them.
The two men smiled at each other, each enjoying the admiration of the other.
“Tell me, my friend,” Ramirez began, as he turned the discussion to business, “how may I be of service to you?”
Soares leaned forward, lifted his glass of water and took a sip. He placed the glass back on the table. “Manuel, the financial matters I will discuss with you today must remain between us and the financial transactions I will ask you to undertake on my behalf must be made at a distance – not traceable to me.”
“I understand. As always, Gomez, our discussions are confidential – forever.” The banker looked at Soares and waited.
Soares nodded. “Thank you, Manuel. This is a financial undertaking that, I am convinced, will result in startling profits. As usual, I will provide you a personal commission of 1% of the profit I make.”
“I have benefited greatly from the commissions you provide me. In addition to your tasteful flair for life, my old friend, you are most generous. As always, I am most thankful. Tell me what you have in mind and I will tell you how I can best be of service.”
“Please, Manuel, drink some of Maria’s delicious coffee before it becomes tepid. We wouldn’t want to upset her.”
Ramirez sat upright and leaned forward. He took the coffee cup sitting in front of him, smelled its aroma, and then sipped from it, slowly. He closed his eyes and simply said, “Hmmmm. One of life’s true joys.” He set his coffee cup back onto the matching saucer and looked across the length of the sofa at Soares.
“Manuel, I wish to invest five hundred million US dollars in the stocks of the major United States defense industry companies. The following information is detailed, my friend, and you may wish to take notes.” Ramirez nodded and took a pad and pen from an inner pocket of his impeccable suit. “The United States defense industry companies in which I wish to invest are involved in the manufacture of munitions, military clothing, field rations, engineering equipment, electronic equipment, air and ground-based sensors, air supremacy and ground attack aircraft, air and ground surveillance aircraft, refueling aircraft, transport aircraft, helicopters, and army weapons …” Ramirez took notes as his old friend spoke. “… everything from tanks to individual firearms. I wish half of my investment to be focused on equipment used by special operati
ons forces. The general scope of my investment should be based on the assumption that the US military will undergo a significant military buildup in the near future, especially in the special operations arena. I would like my investments to be completed within the next four days. Can this be done my friend and within my requirements for complete confidentiality?” Having given his shopping list, Soares sat back into the comfort of the couch and waited for his old friend to respond.
Ramirez hesitated. He was looking down at the carpet that covered the light-colored marble floor beneath his feet, then studied his notes. He appeared to be thinking, calculating, assessing. Finally, he looked up. “This is a most ambitious financial venture, Gomez. I admire it. I presume your information about a coming US military buildup is well-founded. 500 million US dollars is a very considerable sum.”
Soares sat forward himself. He spread his arms and spoke softly, but with conviction. “It appears only natural, given current international trends. One only has to look at an emerging China, a Russia that is trying to find former glory, a Turkey seeking a path between the legacy of Ataturk and its Ottoman past, a Middle East struggling with its Arab Spring, the uncertainty of Iran’s true intentions, the debacle in Syria – I could go on. From the view of the American cowboys, these trends are too disturbing to be neglected. The Norte Americanos have always been quick on the draw – just like in their old Western movies – and they will decide to make more guns to confront these risks that they believe they see. We will simply invest in their paranoia.”
So, even between the closest of friends since childhood, the full truth would not be shared. Perhaps Soares felt that even his oldest and best friend would not share his willingness to murder hundreds of thousands of Mexicans to satisfy his greed for power, his willingness to leave their city a radioactive wasteland. I could understand such uncertainty.
“Yes, I see. I have never thought specifically of such things. But it does seem logical, I must agree. But why, Gomez, such a short time to complete the investment arrangements? It would seem that you have plenty of time to do so.”
“Permit me to only say, my old friend, that the considerable liquid assets necessary to make these investments are available to me now and for a limited period of time. I am sorry to be a bit…” Soares canted his head to the left and shrugged his shoulders slightly “… evasive. As you are aware of the nature of my business dealings, I’m certain you can understand.”
A brief smile crossed Ramirez’s lips. “Yes, completely.”
“So, my friend, can you do it?”
“Yes, I believe I can do it. I am familiar with an investment banking firm – off-shore in the Bahamas – that has particular expertise in the defense arena. With such an undertaking as this, I will handle the transactions myself and in person. You will not be associated in any way. I know the director of this firm and will arrange for him to formulate a portfolio of investments to be exercised via a variety of holding companies. I will ask him to send his brightest investment strategist to work the details with me personally. I can probably have the strategist here tomorrow and then formulate and finalize the portfolio within 3 more days. You will need to transfer the funds to my bank as soon as possible and I will only transfer them to the off-shore firm after you have approved the portfolio. The off-shore firm will then execute the investments, believing that it is investing funds on behalf of clients employing the company names that I provide it. The off-shore will agree to say that it was the holding companies that made these investments directly with it and not via my bank – should it be asked. None of these transactions will be traceable back to you. Do you find these arrangements satisfactory?”
“And this off-shore firm is completely reliable?”
“Completely, Gomez. And they, like you, are interested in making some money. Their commission on this will be sizeable, overall.”
“Thank you, Manuel, most excellent. I will have the funds available for you tomorrow. Please proceed immediately as you have outlined. It has been a very profitable discussion, as always.”
Soares stood. “I will not take you away any longer from your bank, my old friend. You must already be busy and I am only causing you to be more so.”
“Do not let it disturb you. I can rearrange my current work and address it later, after I have completed your arrangements. I will be here in the city through the rest of the month, in any case; your sailing cruise has given me new energy.”
Ramirez stood up from the couch. Soares approached him and the two men again embraced, then stood apart. As Soares escorted him to the doors of his office, Ramirez said, “Thank you again, Gomez, for your warm hospitality and friendship. Please give our warm regards to your beautiful Dolores.”
“And ours to Carmen – please.” As he swung the door open, Soares called to Maria. “Maria, please escort the Director to his car.”
The sound of approaching high heels on marble. “Yes, Senor. This way, please, Senor Director.”
From my view, I watched Soares wave at his departing guest and oldest friend, then silently close the door to his office. He began walking back to his desk.
Not even a suggestion to Ramirez that he should get away from the office and the city – take a well-deserved break with his family – as soon as he had completed Soares’ financial investments.
Not a real friend, after all.
CHAPTER 14 – The Setup
A telephone dial tone. The sound of numbers being entered into a telephonic device. The sound of a telephone ringing somewhere.
“Ramirez is calling a telephone, the possessor of which is presently located in the Bahama Trust Investment Bank in Freeport on Grand Bahama in the Caribbean. The number being called belongs to a Mr. James Whitmore. A Mr. Whitmore is listed in the Grand Bahama Chamber of Commerce Who’s Who as the bank’s president.” Very fast.
A voice answering the telephone in the Bahamas. “James Whitmore speaking.” A bright and upbeat voice. I thought it sounded Australian. The Machine could tell me.
“James, this is Manuel Ramirez in Mexico. How are you?” Ramirez spoke English with a heavy Spanish accent. His diction was very clear, conveying considerable experience working in the language.
“Mr. Ramirez, yes, I saw your name in the ID display. I’m well, thank you. I trust you are also well.”
“Yes, quite well, thank you.”
“It is very good to hear from you so soon after our last business transaction. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
“Thank you, James. It is my pleasure to be in a position to seek your investment counsel, once again. I need the services of one of your top investment strategists, someone deeply knowledgeable of the defense market in the United States. I have several clients who are interested in making a sizeable investment in that market.”
“Well first, Manuel, allow me to express my gratitude to you for thinking of me again and so soon. Can you give me some idea of the overall value of the investments, please?”
“Approximately 500 million US dollars.”
“You have my undivided attention, sir.”
“I would like to meet with your strategist here in Mexico City as soon as possible to formulate investment portfolios with me personally, for which I will then obtain approval from the clients. Once I have that in hand, I will transfer their funds to your bank via holding companies specified by the clients and ask that you make the investments as detailed in the approved portfolios. Your normal standards of discretion will be required. Our normal arrangement regarding fees payable to your bank to execute the investments stands. Does all of this sound acceptable to you, James? Much like many of the transactions we have concluded in the past, except that the investment amount is considerably larger. I would like to have the investments completed within four days from today.”
“Quite. The amount is considerably larger and your timeline is not generous. Your clients’ legal entities for transferring the funds will all be transparent, I’m sure.”
“Then that will be fine for the moment, Manuel. Given the overall size of the investments, I will need to have more information regarding their specifics, as well as examine the legal investment entities of your clients. But my strategist can obtain that information from you and examine it. Should he need to review anything with me, he can do that via secure video teleconference from Mexico City. Given our past dealings, I see no difficulties. I have two people who are highly competent to do the work that you ask. Please allow me to discuss their availability to complete all of the necessary work within your prescribed timeframe. I will call you back tomorrow morning. It is my intention to have one of them with you tomorrow by mid-afternoon. Will that be satisfactory, Manuel?”
“Thank you, James. Yes. I’ll wait for your telephone call tomorrow morning. Enjoy what I’m certain is excellent weather there and thank you for your assistance with my clients’ requests.”
“I look forward to assisting them, Manuel. Until tomorrow morning, then.” The banker on Grand Bahama Island ended the communication. I again heard a dial tone, then the sound of a click as Ramirez terminated the connection on his end.
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I spent the next several hours in communication with the Machine and the Grid, developing the setup for how we were going to deal with Soares’ and Khan’s intentions to influence history.
The Grid Page 14