Andrew Gross - Reckless

“Sorry?” Foley put back on his glasses. His stare said he had no idea what Hauck was talking about.

“The Wertheimer thing they were looking to pick up. Why we were holding everything back. From Merrill.”

“Right!” He smiled, clear eyed. “Moving along just fine, Ty, or so I’m told. In fact, the company and the government panel of overseers are meeting on it today. Some conflict-of-interest details, mostly in Europe, I hear. May have to divest that part. Should be brought to a head soon.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Foley looked at him a little funny. “For Talon, it’s a frigging bonanza.”

“I meant good that we can finally share what we have with Merrill,” Hauck said.

“Got ya.” Foley nodded. He gave Hauck a lingering look that ended up in a tight smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, Ty. There’s a couple of things I’d like to run by you…” He pushed himself up. “But that can wait for another day. Big doings out there today, in case you haven’t heard.”

“I haven’t, Tom. What?”

“One of the top overseers of Freddie Mac blew his brains out in his study. Imagine, his own children found him when they were getting ready for school.” He shook his head. “Only ratchets up all the worry that there’s more shit to come. Citi. AIG. The whole world’s crumbling, Ty. Shit, even my wife’s starting to break a sweat. Asks me for the first time in twenty years about our stock portfolio. Tells me she and all her girlfriends haven’t bought a pair of shoes in weeks. Not a single new spring outfit. Everyone bleeds in their own way. Still…” He headed toward the door and chuckled. “Doesn’t mind hopping the company jet down to Naples. That’s why we have to be one of the winners. Know what I mean?”

Hauck followed him to the door.

Foley turned. “You know, that old job, Ty, what you were doing before…That was sort of like splashing around in the kiddie pool, if you know what I mean. You get yourself wet, everyone has a good time. But try and work up a stroke.”

Hauck nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to.

“But here”-his boss’s smile was gone-“here, it’s all kinda part of the big mosaic. One hand washes the government. The other some of the largest companies in the world. Everyone splashing around.”

Hauck met his eyes. “Just what is it we’re talking about, Tom?”

“The Wertheimer thing, of course!” Foley flashed an innocent smile. “That’s what you meant, wasn’t it, Ty?” He gave Hauck a gentle pat. “I’m glad you’re okay. I really am. It’s our job to keep tabs on what’s going on. With our key employees. In all our clients’ firms. Even at Treasury. Comprende?”

Hauck stared.

“Dumbass effing traders…Who knew what hell they wrought, huh?” He cocked both hands at him like two loaded pistols. “In case you don’t know it, son, you’re swimming in the grown-up pool now.”

News of the impending collapse of the American banking system was met with a grin of amusement and even pride by Dani Thibault, who watched it in his midtown Manhattan office.

Pacific-West, the largest bank in California, had just failed.

His pride stemmed from the fact that behind the scenes, he had helped put it all in motion. And he was amused because with all the world’s eyes focused on the causes-the housing bubble, CDOs, credit-default swaps, overleverage, regulators looking the other way-no one had any idea what was really happening.

The treasury secretary was appearing before Congress, stammering like a first-year loan officer trying to explain a risky loan.

The Dow had just hit a six-year low.

Yes, the system had already been weakened, the banks leveraging up their balance sheets with tiers of worthless assets and debt. Sure, the two desperate traders he had lured with the promise of millions, millions they would no longer be able to receive from their firms, had simply been the final, artfully conceived nudge of the rotted carcass off the ledge.

Ultimately, Thibault knew, there was some larger purpose to the small but profitable role he played in this. His was just to put the plan in motion. The whole system, already foundering, was just waiting for the right flick of an invisible finger to send it off the edge. And he had found them! Borrowed up to their dicks against their own company’s tumbling stock. A margin call away from extinction. Yet still controlling billions of their company’s assets. Traders who with one push of the button could sway the fortunes of a large bank.

And who had put it all in play? A simple hog farmer’s son. Who had shoveled shit out of the pens until he was seventeen. Yes, he definitely took some pride in that. And at the same time he had carried his deception right into the bed of one of the most wealthy and desirable women in the world. He had used her to reach his ends, like he had used everyone and everything he had encountered along the way.

Now he was known in the most elite circles. The press referred to him as an “international financier.” It was just like that royal Belgian slut had done for him. Only better! Merrill had opened more doors for him than the head of a multinational corporation. Soon, he’d be moving on anyway. He had gotten about all he could out of her. And there were younger, fresher fields for him to sow.

Dani put his feet up on his desk. He couldn’t help but admire how it all had worked since, on the run, his path had crossed with that faggot Belgian banker in a bar in Lyon. How he’d driven out into the country on the pretense of finding a secluded spot to fuck him. Stopped the car along a lake, then smashed his head with a rock, with the guy’s pants down and his dick out and ready. Threw the body into a leechy pond. Driven in his own car back to his town in Belgium, copied his birth documents, falsified his history. Applied for a job at RezionsBank.

A new man.

Thibault watched as some hayseed congressmen who didn’t even know how to add raked the treasury secretary over the coals over monetary policy. Trying to assure the world it would hold together.

He laughed. They had no idea the disaster that lay ahead.

Thibault’s cell phone chimed, his private one. The one he used for only this purpose. He took it out, noticed the scrambled number from Dubai that was completely secure.

Dani answered. “I’m just watching the proceedings now. Have you checked out the markets? The Dow is down over seven hundred points…” He leaned back, looking over the view of Manhattan with satisfaction. He’d done so well, his employers might well double what they had paid him.

“Yes, an excellent job, my friend,” the caller acknowledged in heavily accented English. “You can be assured we won’t forget.” The man was one of the most powerful people on the planet. His backers controlled those who influenced the purse strings of billions. Behind the shadowy curtain that divided the highest levels of finance and those who had their own agenda to bring that same world down, his influence was unequaled. “But now there is something important that you should know.”

“And what is that?” Dani Thibault asked, barely noticing the shift in tone.

“You are presently under investigation, Dani. By the United States government. The Department of the Treasury.”

“What?” Thibault sat up. What he was saying was impossible, of course, a joke. But he also knew the caller was not the kind to trifle with idle rumor or speculation. He turned down the TV. “Just what are you talking about?”

“They know your name,” the caller said. “They know you had dealings with both deceased traders.”

“That’s impossible!” Dani jumped to his feet. In that instant, he retraced every contact he had made on all his assignments. There was just no chance. Who would have connected him? He had covered every trail perfectly. He had left no link to himself. “How?” he asked, stammering in disbelief. “How could anyone possibly know that?”