Greed

by D Thomas Jewett

“If we could, Father, I'd like to talk later.”

  “That's fine, Basil. Whenever you're ready.”

  Chapter 6 – Circa 1971

  Seated at the head of the conference table, Lord George's face wore a broad smile. His eyes crinkled with joy as he engaged each man at the table. “Our plan worked!” He announced.

  But it was an announcement that he need not have made; for all in attendance already knew. And most knew of its significance.

  “Our timing was perfect,” he continued. “The war, Johnson's great society, have given us what we want – we have again pushed the United States to the brink of bankruptcy.” George paused to let his words sink in. “And as our reward, we have again given them only one way out – a way that gives us even more power, and a way by which we now will execute the next phase of our plan.”

  George smiled gleefully as he continued. “Thanks to Nixon, and of course Johnson for all he's done, the U.S. dollar is now completely decoupled from gold, silver, or any other commodity – we can now print money without restraint. Gentlemen,” he came to his feet and raised his glass, “I offer a toast. A toast celebrating our magnificent achievement. And a toast to all that is yet to be! le’chaim!” And with his gesture, the other men too stood up and raised their glasses; and they drank in unison.

  The men seated themselves; watching the head of the table.

  James Van Der Worth raised his hand, catching the attention of the meeting. “Gentlemen. I offer a toast.” He raised his glass. “A toast to celebrate the reclamation of our gold from the United States.” He looked around the table. “It is now confirmed that all of our gold has been removed from Ft. Knox and is now safely stored in our vaults throughout Europe.” James stood and held his glass high. “le’chaim!” And with that gesture, the other men too stood up and raised their glasses; and they drank in unison.

  The men seated themselves; again watching the head of the table.

  “Now, our next phase in the plan is two-fold. We shall create the new dollars we need to buy more influence around the world; and, we shall bring down the Soviet Union.” George looked around the table. “With these two actions, gentlemen, it will set us up for the end game of the plan.”

  Basil was seated to the right of his father; and until now, he had been silent. Basil raised his hand. “How will the Soviet Union be brought down? Will it be by creating a nuclear war?”

  George smiled. And around the table, everyone else was smiling.

  “Well, Basil brings up a very good point – a point that we have discussed at length in the past.” George paused and then continued. “Jacob,” he said looking at Jacob Astor, “I know you have been a strong advocate for a global nuclear war. And you too, Sir Kutchner. And nuclear war certainly has merit. After all, it will help us to wipe away all of these excess people around the world; and it will allow us to impose a global order from day one.”

  The men at the table were watching, listening, intently.

  “Unfortunately, it will also irradiate much of the northern hemisphere, and I think we all decided this was, ah – less than desirable. So, unless we can hear new objections to our plan,” he paused, waiting for any objection to be offered, “we should continue on.”

  Basil again raised his hand. “Pardon me, sir. But how will the plan be executed?”

  George smiled and began his answer. “By money, my dear Basil. After all, to control the creation of money is to control one-half of every transaction on the planet. No – power over the creation of money is sufficient to control the planet. And we now have control over the world's money!”

  Part 2 – Tipping Point

  Until now, the world we’ve known has been a world divided – a world of barbed wire and concrete block, conflict and cold war. Now, we can see a new world coming into view. A world in which there is the very real prospect of a new world order.

  - - - George H.W. Bush – September 11, 1990, “Toward a New World Order” speech given to a joint session of the United States Congress after the fall of the USSR.

  Interlude

  IMAGINE A PLUSH ROOM. Appointed in gold and leather, and adorned with polished black walnut and deep, soft carpeting, and with a warm fire dancing in a massive stone fireplace, the fire creating flickering shadows across the walls. The location of this room is not important, nor is the structure in which the room exists, nor is the time of day. It is merely a room, a room filled with the finest imaginable of every comfort and convenience.

  Further, imagine this room is occupied by five men, talking amongst themselves as they enjoy the comfort of a leather-upholstered chair, and a snifter of very old, very rare, brandy; and each enjoying the pleasure of a fine cigar of their choosing. All of them relaxed and at ease around the dancing fire.

  Imagine these men talking, and joking, about world events. And imagine these men taking credit for their conduct of these events, and finding joy and celebration in these events, and finding joy and glee in the pain and suffering of others as they have watched these events unfold.

  With this picture, touch your innermost feelings. Drive deep within yourself, and allow your inner self to feel the chill, the cold, emanating from these men. A frigid depth that belies the warm dancing flames.

  The leader, a middle-aged man among middle-aged men – a wizened face of keen intellect, with blond hair and graying temples – is joyful and expansive in his celebration, as he draws on his cigar and exhales into the air. And then, his cold gray eyes seek out each of the men in turn. “Ah, gentlemen ... gentlemen!” He smiles broadly. “The collapse of the Soviet economy was stunning. My dear colleagues, this has been a fine, truly fine, piece of work.”

  Smiling, each man radiates a glow of satisfaction from the Leader’s compliments.

  The leader, Lord Basil, continued. “I propose a toast – le’chaim – to all of us.”

  “Le’chaim” the chorus replied in unison, as they lifted their glasses in salute, and then to their lips.

  The men leaned back in their plush leather chairs; relaxed, each reveling in their great achievement. For the destruction of the Soviet economy, and of the Soviet hierarchy, was indeed a great achievement. And it mattered not at all to these men that the object of their celebration, the collapse of the USSR, thrust tens-of-millions of people into abject poverty!

  “Now, gentlemen,” The Lord resumed speaking in his deep, raspy voice, “it is time to move on to the final phase of our plan – undisputed control of the world. To this end, we shall review our master plan and develop ever-more detailed plans that will bring our strategic objectives to fruition.”

  Lord Basil then pushed a button on the intercom next to him. Speaking into it, he said, “Daniel, please come in.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  The door at the far end of the room opened. In walked a tall, dark, lanky man with graying temples. The man walked up to the circle, and nodded (or did he slightly bow his head?) at the gathering of men.

  “Hello, gentlemen.” Belying the man’s lanky posture, the hard-set jaw seemed barely to move as it framed its greeting.

  The seated men returned his nod, even as the Leader’s eyes met Daniel’s squinted gaze. “Thank you for coming in to talk with us, Daniel.”

  “My pleasure, sir.” The tall lanky man nodded again.

  “As I am sure you remember,” the Leader continued, “we recently talked about the next objective in our strategic plan, as well as a broad approach toward our attainment of this objective. I asked you to drop by to talk about our plan and to begin its implementation. And too, I know that I speak for all of us when I say that we are all very interested in hearing your perspective.”

  “Of course, sir.” The tall lanky man nodded.

  The Leader waved his cigar in a flourish as he spoke. “Now, Daniel, in order that we achieve world domination, we must collapse the world economy into the dust heap of history. We must impoverish the world population; and of necessity, this impoverishment means the starvation and death
of several billions of people. In doing this, our goal is that people suffer grievously, so that they beg for a one world government to save them. This – a one world government – we will be ready to provide.”

  The cigar smoke was wafting overhead as the Leader flourished his cigar still more. “Remember, Daniel, that suffering is the key. The more people suffer, and the more intense their suffering, the closer we are to our goal.

  “Yes, sir.” Daniel acknowledged.

  With a flourish of his cigar and a studied condescension, he continued. “The first order of business is to deal with this pesky United States. They present a particular problem because they are so wealthy and free. But worse, their culture is based on freedom; this ‘rugged individualism’, if you will. We must tear it down.”

  The Leader drew from his cigar. “This will take time. Much time ...”

  Chapter 1 – Circa 1992

  Dwayne hit the enter key on his computer and leaned back in his seat; his clear blue eyes watching the printer as it spewed out a listing. He slowly reached both hands behind his head and clasped his hands together. Leaning his light brown locks into his hands, he watched the printer do its work.

  Dwayne was seated in the back room of his store, busily retrieving listings on rare coin and precious metals market activity. The rare coin shop – located in a shopping mall on the west side of Omaha – was a dream come true; for since he was a youngster, he was fascinated with old rare coins and precious metals.

  Dwayne rubbed his hand on his square jaw. It sure would be nice to get these quotes up to the minute, rather than having to scrounge for updates twice a day, he thought.

  Dwayne heard the chimes at the shop entrance. He looked through the door out into the customer area, seeing a man who was just now walking through the entrance. Dwayne stood up and walked out to greet him. He sized the man up; about 5 foot 8 inches, youngish and slender, with straight hair falling over his eyes. The man seemed nervous.

  “May I help you?”

  “Hmmm ... not right this minute,” the man said with a tentative smile. “I just came in to browse.”

  The man's eyes fixated on the display cases – stocked as they were with old and rare U.S. coins and stacks of gold and silver bullion coins and bars.

  Dwayne moved over behind the nearest counter and began shuffling the U.S. proof sets. It was a pet peeve of his – he wanted the sets arranged to grab the most light possible, so that the brilliance of the coins reflected upwards to the glass top of the case. I'm always interrupted when I go to move these, he thought.

  The man perused the display for a few minutes and then stopped at the section of silver dollars.

  He looked up at Dwayne. “Excuse me. Can I see that coin?”

  Dwayne moved over to the silver dollar display case. “What piece do you want to see?”

  “That one, there.” The man pointed into the case. “The coin with the white plastic square around it.” The man was bent over the display looking intently at the coin.

  Dwayne retrieved the coin from the display case and handed it to the man. The man had chosen a somewhat rare date – an 1892-S Morgan silver dollar.

  The man’s hands were shaking as he held the coin. He looked at the obverse of the coin; and then, glancing up nervously at Dwayne, he turned the coin over and examined the reverse.

  “Do you want a magnifying glass?” Dwayne held out a magnifier.

  “N-n-n-n – no thank you.” Hands shaking, he handed the coin back to Dwayne muttering “that’s a nice coin.”

  “Huh?” Dwayne held his hand up to his ear.

  The man said louder, “That’s a very nice looking coin.”

  Dwayne responded. “It's graded as 'extremely fine'. It has the plastic slab around it to show that it was professionally graded – so you can be certain of its condition.”

  “Can you look at this coin that I have?” The man withdrew a coin encased in a clear coin holder from his pocket. He handed it to Dwayne and said, “I'd like to sell it to you if the price is right.”

  Dwayne looked at the coin; turning it over to scan both sides.

  “Yes, sir. This is also an 1892-S silver dollar. But just off hand, I'd say it's a counterfeit.”

  The man gasped and said, “Counterfeit! Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir. I'm sure.”

  The man peered at Dwayne shrewdly. “Are you saying this just so you can get a better deal?”

  “No sir. It's a fake. And I'm not at all interested in owning it – at any price.”

  “So,” the man looked at the coin as he talked, “what makes you so certain?”

  “Well, sir, if you look at the coin's surface, it has a lot of small pock marks and the image is poorly defined. I'd say that the coin was cast from a form, rather than being struck the way coins were manufactured at the time.”

  “What do you mean by cast?”

  “I mean that someone used a silver dollar coin and created a mold with it – then they would pour metal into the mold to make a copy. It's a rather old method of counterfeiting. And for a coin of this age and grade – the coin would grade as an average circulated specimen – it might just pass as authentic.”

  Dwayne paused and looked at the man intently. “Where did you get it?”

  The man held his head down, allowing his face to sag. He heaved a sigh and then said, “I got it mail order. They advertised it as a great price for an 'extremely fine' specimen. So I thought I'd give it a try.”

  “I'm sorry sir,” Dwayne replied, “but you've been had. How much did they charge you for it?”

  “About $150,” the man replied, his eyes looking down at the coin.

  “Well, that's about right. They usually charge about $300 for a real one.”

  The man took the coin from Dwayne and put it back in his pocket.

  “Can I help you with something else?” Dwayne asked.

  The man hesitated, and then said, “Where can I find the spot price for gold and silver?”

  Dwayne smiled, “You can find those in this national financial newspaper; or most of the newspapers’ market quotations. Just look under commodities.”

  “Okay – well, thanks!” The man headed for the door.

  “Uh, wait!” Dwayne exclaimed. “What's your name”?

  “The man turned and smiled. “Frank. My name is Frank Meeks. And yours?”

  “I’m Dwayne Jeffrey.” He smiled as the man walked out. “I'm really sorry about that coin. But thanks for coming in; and please stop by again.”

  The chimes rang again as Frank walked out through the door.

  * * * * *

  With a wry smirk on his face, the news announcer’s penetrating eyes and manufactured voice emanated from the TV. “And for more on this story, we go to Ted Rollins, our correspondent in Mexico.”

  Ted Rollins picked up the dialog without missing a beat: “Yes David. Today, President Clinton visited Mexico and signed NAFTA – the North American Free Trade Agreement. He was joined by President Bush, President Carter, and top congressional leaders of both parties. Vice President Gore and President Clinton spoke at the proceedings.”

  The apparently live broadcast then cut away to film.

  VICE PRESIDENT GORE: “. . . The presence of three former presidents, two Republicans and one Democrat, to join President Clinton here today on this stage, is evidence of our country's ability to support what is in our nation's best interest over the long-term without respect to partisanship. . . .”

  And then, the film cut to still a different frame; a sound bite in the making:

  PRESIDENT CLINTON: “. . . Today we turn to face the challenge of our own hemisphere, our own country, our own economic fortunes. In a few moments, I will sign three agreements that will complete our negotiations with Mexico and Canada to create a North American Free Trade Agreement. In the coming months I will submit this package to Congress for approval. It will be a hard fight, and I expect to be there with all of you every step of the way. . . .” (followe
d by applause)

  “. . . I believe that NAFTA will create 200,000 American jobs in the first two years of its effect. I believe if you look at the trends -- and President Bush and I were talking about it this morning -- starting about the time he was elected President, over one-third of our economic growth, and in some years over one-half of our net new jobs came directly from exports. And on average, those export-related jobs paid much higher than jobs that had no connection to exports.”

  “I believe that NAFTA will create a million jobs in the first five years of its impact. And I believe that that is many more jobs than will be lost, as inevitably some will be as always happens when you open up the mix to a new range of competition.”

  “NAFTA will generate these jobs by fostering an export boom to Mexico; by tearing down tariff walls which have been lowered quite a bit by the present administration of President Salinas, but are still higher than Americans. . . .”

  Then, Ted Rollins’ confidently smiling face returned to the screen. “Of course, this entourage of Presidents and Vice Presidents made no mention of the polls that show a majority of Americans against NAFTA. Nor did they mention Ross Perot’s insurgent bid for the Presidency that would have killed this treaty.”

  “So there you have it. This is Ted Rollins from Mexico. Back to you, David”

  The newscaster took the cue. “And for our next story ...”

  * * *

  ... the TV voices droned on in the background.

  Patricia Jeffrey removed her glasses and looked across the table at her husband. “Does this mean what I think it means? Is this what you’ve been telling me about?”

  “Yes,” Dwayne replied as he turned and stared out the window. “The NAFTA they’re pushing has a commission that would set the rules for trade in North America – if you don't follow the rules, you don't get to trade. Real free trade, on the other hand, would have no rules at all.”

  He turned and looked at her. “No,” he spat. “This commission means there's a political agenda. And that means there’ll be benefits for the rich and powerful at the expense of the common man.” He paused with a sigh. “So, I think that the ‘agenda’ will bring the American people great harm.”