Chapter Two
The cameraman yawned and stretched. He was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans and had a headset and microphone on. He was also the owner and the producer of the company that streamed the corporate videos and shareholders meetings live, but still preferred to work in the trenches filming the events. His small company was successful, and the key to his success was filming and presenting the dull meetings with cinematic quality and presentation. His name was Peter, but at some point the nickname Gaucho stuck with him, and that’s what his entire team called him.
People were piling into a conference room on the mezzanine level of the JJ Gorman corporate headquarters in Manhattan. He flipped the microphone up on top of his head and leaned over to the girl running the control board and asked, “Hey, are we all set?”
She nodded, “Yeah, I’m set to start streaming in five minutes.”
He flipped the microphone down, “Did you all catch that? Ready to go live?”
They heard a series of “Yes” being pronounced over the headset.
He started to wander around the room, which was a large capacity stadium style auditorium with hundreds of seats and a stage at the bottom of a long flight of stairs. The backdrop of the stage was a dark reddish purple material. The company logo, a circle with a geometrical border surrounding a globe hung down on black cords and frames a podium.
The shareholders meetings were streamed live over the Internet and the feeds were supplied to news networks in real time. Generally, the meetings were completely dull. The highly produced, expertly filmed videos did very little to enhance their level of interest. Gaucho had been doing this gig for a few years now. He did his best to make the material visually interesting, but the topics were dull and dry and heavily scripted. The entire event was planned and choreographed.
A few minutes after the audience was seated and the meeting began, loud pops and muffled screams and shouts were coming from outside the auditorium. The doors banged open and people ran inside.
Gaucho said through the headset, “We need to cover this, ditch the script!”
“Roger that!” he heard Melanie say. “We’re live and streaming, go, go!”
Gaucho jogged down the auditorium steps toward the chaos. He saw men in balaclavas and black military garb herding people into the auditorium. A few bodies were visible in the atrium.
A soothing, but mechanical female voice announced over the PA system. “Code Omega. Code Omega. Code Omega.” Emergency lights popped on throughout the building.
Gaucho filmed the men enter the room. He was surprised when one of them put a hand on his shoulder. The man had a Spanish speaker’s accent. “Follow me. You’ll be fine. I hope you can film this whole thing.”
Gaucho followed the man down to the stage. The dignitaries on the stage were being held at gunpoint by the paramilitaries. The man pulled a manilla folder from his jacket.
The man announced, “I am Commander Marcos. We are here today because these men, if you can call them that, stole $2 billion from us. This company launders drug money for me with full knowledge and participation of the board of directors and CEO. I am going to present information not only of this activity, but of their other, much worse personal and business activities.”
He drew a pistol and stalked around behind the members of the board of directors who were seated at a long table on the stage. A smile was visible through his balaclava. He gestured to Gaucho to come in closer.
Commander Marcos squeezed the chubby chin of Harold duMont. Marcos said, “This man, more like a demon in human clothing, likes raping boys. Don’t you Harry?” duMont refused to look at the camera, but he said, “That’s not true, and anything he makes me say is under duress.”
Commander Marcos said, “Why speak when a picture is worth a thousand words?” He held a photo next to Harold’s face. The man was caught on camera committing the crime. Gaucho zoomed in. Harold was angry, “Don’t film this!”
Gaucho said, “Sorry, have to, buddy.”
Marcos spoke to the Internet, “If you don’t believe this photo, the film from which it was extracted is currently available for download, just search for ‘Commander Marcos Video Hits’, and you’ll find it. I’m tweeting it now.” He typed on his phone.
Usually only a few hundred people watched the investor conferences live, but once the news of the attack flashed around social media, millions tuned in. JJ Gorman’s stock price was plunging and trading halted.
Marcos rattled off a list of similar crimes of the board of directors members, then he asked, “Where’s Jimmy?”
The board members were afraid, but stoney faced. One of the women on the board was looking visibly ill. Marcos said to her, “It’s so unfortunate for you, since you’ve only on this board for a couple of months. But, I know you left a trail of slime on your path to this job. Tell the audience, how much of my money did you get personally?”
She didn’t answer and just shook her head. He slapped her hard. “How much, bitch?”
She was crying. “Fifty.” She said quietly.
Commander Marcos laughed hilariously. “Listen up sports fans, I’ll ask her again. How much, in dollars?”
She said, “Fifty million dollars.”
He said emphatically, “Did you ever wonder where all this money comes from for their yachts, houses, and judging by her, nice fake titties? Well, now you know. Do you think this lady is any different than me? Or is she any better than a guy robbing a liquor store? I sure as fuck don’t.”
He levelled the gun at her. “Where’s Jimmy Pearls? He should be here, but I don’t see him.”
She cried out, “I don’t know…”
BANG. Marcos shot her in the head and her corpse deflated and her head bounced off the table and flopped onto the floor. People in the auditorium screamed. Gaucho whispered, “Sweet Jesus.”
Marcos pointed the gun at Harold. “Where, boy fucker?”
duMont said, “Fuck Yo…..”
BANG.
“I guess I get ten more chances?” Marcos deadpanned into the camera.
A younger man on the board spoke up, “There’s an emergency plan. He took an express elevator to the roof. There’s a panic room up there. They’re probably waiting for a helicopter.” The man had a black suit, a white shirt and a red tie. His face was handsome and he had a square jaw and neatly styled thinning blond hair.
Marcos laughed, “Well, he won’t get out that way!” Marcos gestured at his men, “Take this guy and we’ll go find Jimmy.” He gestured to Gaucho. “To the roof, hombre.”
Gaucho said, “This won’t be live.”
Marcos said, “Well, get it on tape anyway. History in the making!”
Gaucho followed them to the express elevator. The man keyed them in and they all packed into the metal box.
Marcos said, “Now this man is smart. Why die in vain for this swine Jimmy Pearls? Maybe you stick around and pick up the pieces and get our money back. OK, Señor?”
“Sounds like a deal.” The young man said. The elevator raced up toward the top floor of the building, when the doors opened, Marcos’s men were already in control of the hallway and were banging away at a set of metal double doors.
“I brought the key!” Marcos said.
The young board member swiped a card on the door lock and it swung open. Jimmy’s bodyguards opened fire and one of Marcos’s men was hit and slumped back against the opposite wall clutching his throat as blood sprayed between his fingers. A couple of flash bang grenades went off in the room and the rest of Marcos’s men stormed in and shot the bodyguards. Jimmy Pearls and his assistant held their hands up. Jimmy stepped behind her, but Marcos’ men separated them.
Marcos said, “Jimmy Pearls! Purchaser of Presidents and Congressmen and common thief and pervert. There are too many crimes to list here, it’s all on my website, at least the crimes I know about.” BANG he shot Jimmy in the head and his body crumpled to the floor. His assistant, a young attractive lady, screamed. Marc
os held up a hand, “You’re safe miss.”
He asked the young board member, “Can you get my fucking money?”
The man nodded emphatically. “Absolutely.”
“Can you do it right now?” Marcos asked.
The man was very nervous. He finally said, “No it will take about three days.”
“Make it $3 billion.” Marcos said flatly.
“Uh, sure. I think that’s fair. Restitution.” He offered a hand.
Marcos shook his hand. “You know there is no reneging on this deal, right? If you do, it will be a really bad way to go for you.”
“Understood.” The young man said. He was relieved.
Marcos patted Gaucho on the back. “I like you. If you give me that camera, I’ll get you $10 million tomorrow.”
Gaucho sighed. He said, “I got such good footage.”
Marcos laughed, “I liked this guy the moment I first saw him. He was not even slightly afraid. Do you have a card?”
Gaucho handed him a business card and gave him the camera.
“Adios.” Marcos said. He and his men ran to the roof and boarded two helicopters. They were gone before the police began swarming through the building.
The young man on the board of directors shook Gaucho’s hand and said, “Gaucho, right?”
“Yep. That’s me.”
The young man gestured over to Jimmy Pearls assistant. He said, “Monica, you might view this event as horrifying and want to wash your hands of the whole mess, maybe even report on what happened in here as if a truthful telling of the story would somehow purge the horror from your mind. Let me pose another option, this is a tremendous opportunity for all of us. Our actions were heroic, for example. I saved the rest of the board from certain death and I tried to keep the attackers away from this room, but did what I had to do to save your life…”
Gaucho and Monica both nodded as he went through the alternate reality version of the story that made them all heroes, and ultimately, made them all really wealthy.
The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter Page 28