Graham Brown - Ghost Ship

Joe was still firing when he heard Brooks calling the other helicopters. “This is Dragon leader, the LZ is clear. Repeat, the LZ is clear.”

“Dragon Three inbound,” came the first call.

“Dragon Four inbound.”

With help on the way, Joe dropped back to the ground, picked up the railgun, and waited for the Marines to arrive.

In the control room on the top floor of the main house a standoff ensued. Kurt had raised the deadly railgun and zeroed in on Sebastian Brèvard’s head, but Sebastian had pulled himself behind Sienna and cocked the hammer on the shiny automatic that was pressed against her temple.

Considering the accuracy of his weapon, Kurt was certain he could kill Sebastian with a single shot, but the nerves of the body have strange ways of reacting to the death of the mind. If Kurt shot him, Sebastian might go limp instantaneously, or his hand might just as easily twitch, pulling the hair trigger of the pistol and killing Sienna.

The fact that Kurt had only one shell left in the railgun was also a concern.

“Kurt,” Sienna cried, “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

He looked Sienna in the eye, willing her to be calm. “It’s going to be all right,” he promised. “He’s going to let you go.”

“Am I?” Sebastian said. “So that you can kill me? I don’t think so.”

“I’m not interested in killing you,” Kurt insisted. “There are plenty of others lined up for that task. If Acosta doesn’t get you, the North Koreans will — or even Than Rang, if he ever gets out of prison. Dead or alive, you’re irrelevant to me at this point. Your plans are ruined. Whatever scheme you’ve been hatching here is going up in flames as we speak.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian replied, his eyebrows arched in an exaggerated look of surprise. “Because — aside from your early arrival — things are going exactly as I’ve intended.”

Kurt stared, not interested in a banal conversation with the man, but he was willing to have one if it led Sebastian to make a mistake.

“You expect me to believe this is all part of some master plan?”

“Come, now,” Sebastian continued. “Surely you’ve realized that we could have killed you on Westgate’s yacht. The discovery of the bodies on the wreck should have told you that. Have you even asked yourself why you were spared?”

Kurt had been considering that question for a while. “You were trying to keep the kidnapping a secret,” he said. “You wanted me to tell the world that Sienna drowned. That way, there would be no investigation.”

“Then why did we send you pictures of Sienna in Iran?” Sebastian asked. “Why lead you to the realization that she was alive after all?”

Kurt couldn’t guess. In fact, he didn’t believe a word of it. But he was running out of time. The battle outside appeared to be going badly, and the sound of gunfire on the landing told him Calista was trying to hold the line.

“Cat got your tongue?” Sebastian asked. “Then I’ll tell you. We needed you to get the ball rolling. To begin the process of reevaluation among your smug leaders. To plant a seed of doubt.”

“It doesn’t matter what you had in mind,” Kurt said, “it’s over. You may have been ahead of us at the start, but we’ve been onto you since Korea. Our people are shutting down the vulnerable networks at this very moment. When the world opens up for business in the morning, Phalanx will be gone. It’s being ripped out of every system it was ever installed on.”

A broad smile crept over Sebastian’s face. There was no falsity to it. Nor did he appear to be smiling in the face of defeat. Indeed, it looked to Kurt as if he’d just delivered Sebastian some glorious news.

“Of course they are,” Sebastian said. “Which is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

“You’re lying,” Kurt said.

“Am I?” Sebastian replied. “Ask your lovely friend here if Phalanx has been compromised.”

Kurt refused to play along, so Sebastian turned his attention to Sienna.

“Tell him!”

“He’s telling the truth,” she said. “It’s still secure. Because of the way its artificial intelligence protocols work, Phalanx can’t be hacked. Not even by me.”

Kurt narrowed his gaze. Tears were streaming down Sienna’s face. “Then why go through all this?”

Sebastian answered. “Because I’ve spent three years perfecting the greatest criminal act of all time,” he boasted, “and the sudden appearance of Phalanx nearly ruined it for me. Now, thanks to you, the Westgates, and an abundance of caution, your leaders are removing it for me.”

Kurt saw it now. “And replacing it with the old systems,” he said. “Systems you already know how to hack.”

Sebastian looked like a man who thought himself a genius or even a god. His machines and his men were winning the battle outside, and the best minds in the security business had delivered to him the one thing he couldn’t get for himself. They’d taken down the impenetrable wall of Phalanx and replaced it with what must have been a veritable tunnel that led right to whatever he was after.

“You’re going to rob the world’s banks,” Kurt said, remembering what Montresor had worked on.

“Nothing so crass as theft,” Sebastian replied. “I’m an artist. My crime will have much more style.”

“What crime?” Kurt demanded. “What are you after?”

“It’s the Fed,” Sienna cried out. “He’s planted viruses in the Federal Reserve banks.”

“Shut up,” Sebastian shouted as he tried to keep her from talking by compressing her windpipe with his forearm.

The act caused Kurt to move and almost fire, but Sebastian moved as well, effectively keeping her between them.

“The Fed?” Kurt repeated. “You can’t rob the Fed. That’s even more foolish than robbing a regular bank.”

“If I was going to burglarize it,” Sebastian replied, his words laced with pride and venom.

Kurt decided to prod him. Maybe, just maybe, Sebastian’s ego was like those of many criminals, secretly eager for the world to know how brilliant they were. Certainly, he wouldn’t be the first to boast about and claim his crime.

“If you’re not going to rob the Fed, then what are you after? I assume you’re not going to make a deposit.”

“Actually,” Sebastian said, “in a way I am.”

Kurt held silent.

“Do you have any idea how the Fed creates money?” Sebastian asked.

“Printing press,” Kurt said, thinking of the Brèvard’s family history.

“To a minor extent,” Sebastian acknowledged. “But they have more efficient ways, the most useful of which is the redemption of bonds. When they decide that investors or bondholders deserve to be repaid, they simply go to a computer, type in some numbers, and dollars magically appear in the bondholders’ accounts as their notes are canceled.”

Sebastian grinned. “I’m not going to rob the Fed,” he insisted. “I’m going to use their own programs to create a series of bonds out of thin air and simultaneously create dollars to satisfy the redemption of those bonds. There will be no money missing. No losses to explain or trace. The balance sheet of the Fed will stand exactly as it does now. One side equaling the other. Liabilities equaling reserves. We’re not stealing money. We’re creating it.”

“Do you have any idea how the Fed creates money?” Sebastian asked. “When they decide that investors and bondholders deserve to be repaid, they don’t go to Fort Knox, box up some gold, and ship it out in the mail like they might have done back in the days of the gold standard. They simply go to a computer, type in some numbers, and dollars appear in the accounts of those bondholders as their notes are canceled. I’m not going to rob the Fed,” he added. “I’m going to use their programs to create a series of bonds out of thin air and simultaneously create dollars to satisfy the redemption of those bonds.”