Three

THREE

“Did you see the news this morning?” Philip asked when I got to work that morning after my third cup of coffee that day. It was only 9 am.

“What happened?” I asked. Financial experts are always supposed to be on top of the news, especially brokers. Seemingly random news about some remote area could impact the environment in ways you least expect.

“One of Don Carleone’s men was found dead on the street”, Philip replied.

“This is definitely going to cause a stir in the markets”, I said.

“Yh, but it’s good for business. When things happen. The worst thing that can happen to the market is nothing happening, total complete stability. Then nobody makes any money”, Philip said.

“But isn’t that an event of its own?” I countered.

Philip is termed as a financial demon. He entered the Finance world when he wasn’t nineteen. And for the past ten years, he’s been one of the best traders I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.

My phone started to beep. I looked down at my phone. I had a meeting with one of the companies I’d invested in. Did I forget to mention that I’m a venture capitalist?

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting in my office with Cassius sitting across from me. I was a major shareholder in Real Media Co. And he was just telling me about his encounter with the Johnsons.

Real Media Co uses big data and algorithms to pattern and customize content to each and every user. Being able to understand how potential clients like to view content, like the way Netflix predicts what movies people like to watch. Some prefer short messages, others videos and some don’t mind the written word throughout. It’s not a perfect technology, but it’s better than anything that’s been invented so far.

“They want to meet with me and Grayson today”, he ended.

Cassius has a big ego. The minute someone meets him, it’s one of the things they notice. And yet here he was asking for my advice. I was their angel investor. Besides that he couldn’t deny my expertise. I was the one who taught them how to play investors against each other to increase their valuation as and when necessary. As and when necessary. Taking money which is not directly linked to your companies actual value is the stuff bubbles are made of.

What are economic bubbles? Look at normal bubbles, filled with air and rising until *pop! They burst.  Why do they burst? Because there’s not substance just air. And if you take money that isn’t linked to company performance then it becomes a Ponzi scheme. You have to keep taking more money to sustain this façade of financial success. Until someone refuses to pay anymore and you realize you paid $1billion for a company worth only one-tenth that. Why? Because everyone else said they were worth that much.

Andre and Felicia Johnson. Entertainment moguls. They had their hands in every media there is; Hollywood, News, Fiction and Non-Fiction, Music. In the old world it would have been impossible for someone to have this amount of influence cross spanning industries that seem to have  nothing in common apart from being mediums for information or entertainment.

But we aren’t in that world anymore. Real life is now bowing down to entertainment. We have numerous pointless reality TV shows. News and Journalists have to compete with TV entertainers and celebrities. We don’t inform anymore, we simply entertain. Another sign of a bubble.

Some of my contemporaries have fallen prey to systems like this. Trying to play up Finance to be something more exciting or depraved than it really is. They don’t want to be left behind in the game. So they buy cars, ships, planes and islands. They give to charity and start huge projects. This celebrity cult has got to stop. The cult of personality.

I can understand why some do it. It’s a stunt. The more people see these things the more they want. In other words, these finance guys are saying, “Come invest with me and I will make sure that you too, can get a nice house and a nice retirement package. You will be successful like me.”  But I digress.

So obviously, I’m not exactly the Johnsons’ biggest fans.

“Have you called Grayson?”

“Yes, he’s already on his way. But we need your advice.”

“No, you need my help. Advice alone isn’t going to help you. I need to be there with you”, I said.

“What do you think they want Amy?” he asked me.

“Whatever it is…”

“What?”

“Never mind. Just call me when Grayson gets here.”

 

Don Corleone’s man, Diego pushed the man’s head deep into the toilet and start to flush the toilet.

“Who killed my man?” Carleone asked.

“I don’t know!” the choking man yelled. Diego pulled his head out of the toilet. He was gasping for air.

Carleone knelt down. “Pablo, I have to start from somewhere. Give me someone who does know. Who do you suspect?”

“I…I don’t know”, Pablo said.

Carleone sighed. “I left my wife and children and flew to the US. I didn’t come here for an, “I don’t know.” You know what pisses me off the most?”

“What?”

“They’re taunting me. Every time I see that news item, Don Corleone’s officer killed, it’s their way of saying: the old lion has lost all his teeth. He has no bite, only his roar.”

Pablo stared blankly back at Corleone.

“You don’t understand what I’m saying, do you? How did someone as stupid as you end up working for my brother?”

“Your brother?”

Corleone almost smiled. “Let’s go Diego.”

They opened the door and walked out, down the stairs and into the blue BMW. A second later, Pablo’s entire apartment exploded in a bright orange ball of flame.

 

She turned off the TV and walked over to her phone. She rang an unlisted number. “Is he in the States yet?” she asked.

“Well, a local drug dealer was found burnt in his own apartment. Or at least what was left of it. I’m guessing he was making a statement”, said the male voice on the other end.

“Excellent Tony”, she said. Tony wasn’t his real name. They never used their real names. Even though this was one of the most secure lines on the planet.

“So what’s your next move, Simpson?”

“Let’s meet at the usual location, Tony”, ‘Simpson’ said.

She hung up. She was responsible for the death of Don Corleone’s younger brother, Mario.

There’s a war on everything these days. But the war on crime and drugs was almost as old as war itself. And Don Corleone was a poster boy for both those things. It was time to ramp up the pressure. By the time this was over, when she took Don Corleone down, everyone would be so grateful they might even consider making her president.

Which was exactly what she was aiming for.

Simpson’s real identity was CIA Director Susan Greenfield.

 

CIA Director Susan Greenfield, the best the agency had had in decades. She took care of problems even before they became evident. She was also responsible for funding the war on terror. Why? It was very simple. The military needed a reason to keep improving and the government, a reason to keep spending on weapons. Simply saying that there were potential security risks in their near future wasn’t enough. Politicians were reactive. They needed an incident.

And she gave them some.

Another thing was that local attacks from terrorists gave the US an excuse to walk into foreign territory. Foreign policy check.