Authors: Luca Pesaro
‘Rothschild. You
are
well read.’
‘I’ve studied my Marx, as well. And you are sounding like him… or like a fringe blogger.’
‘Many do not believe me, Yours.’ There was no anger in the old man’s voice, only a tinge of sadness, and pity. ‘No matter, you will see the evidence we have been collecting for years…’
Walker nodded nervously, uncertain of what to say. Soffet was starting to ramble now, his voice gathering force, eyes blazing with passion. And though there was some truth in his words, it was becoming too much. No one could possibly have planned the financial crisis.
‘First they piled on trillions of unpayable debts…’ Soffet continued. ‘And now they upend laws – so many, you have no idea. Bully, threaten, cover up crimes, all to keep the system ticking. Democracy has been broken, they alone decide what’s best for everyone. But soon they will take a step too far, and then…’
The old man coughed again, a stronger attack bending his frail body in two. He looked as if he was dying and Walker froze.
‘Sir, should I call a nurse…’
Soffet shook his head at Walker, twitched. His eyes closed and he shivered before calming down and breathing shallowly for a few seconds. ‘I’m sorry,’ he groaned. ‘And I didn’t want you here just to give you a speech.’
Walker sighed. At least the sick old man was still breathing. But for how long, and how could he get him to help? ‘Listen, I’m not sure about this…’
‘You will see, Scott. We hacked their most secret sanctums, and continue to record their messages and meetings. We are almost ready to unleash creative destruction – the true soul of capitalism…’
‘I’m not sure I need to know.’ Walker tried to sound soothing before the billionaire went off again. ‘I just want to bring Frankel down, that’s all
I
care about. Do you have enough to really hurt
them?’
Soffet rolled his eyes at the interruption. ‘Yes. Emails, intercepted phone calls, data and the rest. And we know of the mess in their Euro books.’
‘Will you give it to me?’
‘It’s not quite finished yet. And we need to add your story to it. After you leave me, you can sit down with my people and go through everything that’s happened since the beginning in London. It will become part of our case, and they’ll show you all we have collected on them up to now.’
‘All right.’ Walker nodded. Soffet might have grown a little delusional, but if he really had what he said… ‘What do you want from me in exchange?’
‘You already know. DeepShareOmega. If it’s as powerful as Frankel thinks…’
‘It’s probably better.’ Walker paused, deciding it was time to gain some control over the conversation. He sat back, tried to look relaxed. ‘Why?’
The old man’s eyes sparkled, and his thin lips turned up in a hideous smile. ‘I told you, Frankel is only a step. A bait, if you want. With your software we can probe the financial structure’s weak spots, prepare our final attack. DeepShare could be our sniffer, telling us how and when we can really break them.’
Walker’s blood ran cold. If all of this was true… ‘Are you saying you want to destroy the entire financial system?’
‘Of course not. What I want is to
shock
it. Look, for many years now Finance has grown like a monstrous parasite, sucking in resources, technologies, thousands upon thousands of stunning brains. For nothing. Just to make more money out of money, a kind of video-game arms race. But
real
wealth is production, resources, innovation… not paper. Don’t tell me that DeepShare is not predicting another massive crisis in the near future. From what I hear, it’s too good not to have seen it.’
‘Yes, it is, but…’ Walker struggled for words. ‘Isn’t there any other way?’
‘When you have advanced gangrene…’ Soffet pointed to his missing leg under the bedsheet. ‘You cut a limb off – not just wait for the rest of the body to die.’
‘But it’s going to be bloody chaos. Bank runs, failures…’
Soffet smiled. ‘Are you sure? I think they’ll just freeze things for a while, and come up fast with better rules. With a stronger, more human system. It’s only paper and numbers on a computer, anyway. As you have admitted, we are heading for implosion – at least I’ll get rid of the madmen
who are running things now before the damage becomes truly irreparable.’
Walker stood, uncertain. Could he allow the old man to have DeepOmega, or was there another way? He forced himself to think faster than he ever had in his life and the room faded as he worked through scenarios, possibilities. He needed Hackernym’s help to destroy Frankel, and Soffet’s plan just sounded impossible – there was no way he could break the world markets like that. Even with Omega. And if he got a few people to resign it wouldn’t be such a bad thing; transparency was needed and Finance had to be reined in.
That
he could live with. He took the plunge, hoping he hadn’t just signed a pact with the devil.
‘Okay – but you’ll only have Deep after I’ve seen Frankel Schwartz shattered.’
Soffet grinned. ‘You could work for me. I like how you’ve survived, and I can pay well.’
‘Thank you, but I’ll pass.’ A dying man’s crusade was the last thing he needed to get involved in. ‘I only wish to see Friedman and the rest of them pay. And I want my life back.’
The billionaire shook his head. ‘You’ll never have your old life back.’
‘Of course not, and I’m not sure I’d want it, anyway. But I can build a new one.’
‘With the Mexican woman?’
Walker hesitated, annoyed.
Do they know everything?
He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘I hear she’s a good one. Keep hold of her.’
Soffet’s hand twitched and he pressed a button on the side of the bed. A second later the oak doors opened and Bill walked through, followed by a nurse. ‘I’m tired now, my friend. Bill will take you to our analysts – they’ll show you what we have, and add DM’s story to the picture.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me. I’m only doing God’s work, repenting my sins,’ he said. ‘Ah, and please hurry up with Mosha Micovich. It might be a while until we are ready to act, but we’ll need DeepShare very soon.’
‘We’ll move fast, if Hackernym’s info is as good as you say.’ Walker smiled, his stomach twisting in anticipation. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘Neither can I, I’m afraid.’
Chapter Seventeen
Risk and Opportunity
Layla met Walker for dinner at a Japanese restaurant a few blocks away from the Georgian Hotel. She was nervous and would have preferred to hide in his room, but Scott had been adamant. He seemed to be getting cabin fever as the countdown ticked faster. To what, she didn’t know. He was already sitting at the back of the room, in a dark corner cut off by a few tropical plants. He jumped up when she approached, his expression intense.
‘Did you find the guy?’ he said.
Layla sighed and sat back, just as a waiter arrived. She ordered a red wine and turned back to Walker. ‘Yeah, but it took forever. He’s moved from Compton to Venice – guess the business is doing well…’
‘Great. Are they going to be as good as my Italian IDs?’
‘I’ve never had a problem with Karl. But he will need a week, especially for your British passport.’
Walker slapped the table, swearing in a low voice. ‘A week?’
‘Maybe just three or four days, he wasn’t sure. Why?’
‘We don’t have a fucking week to waste,’ he growled. ‘I want to move on Frankel now – seven days is a long time in Finance, and Pienaar is still out there. I need to get to Boston and download the second half of the code.’
Layla rubbed her forehead, considering. ‘Do you really have to go? It’s digital stuff – can’t you send it over the net, or something?’
‘No. DM made sure it could not be done, and even if I managed to get around his protections – and I probably can’t – it’s too big. And the Internet is not reliable, or secure enough. The only way is a physical download, in one of those storage drivers in my room.’
‘Are you sure?’
Walker exhaled, annoyed. ‘Of course I am. Look, a lot of secret technologies works like that – a quant stole some high-frequency trading code from a bank some years ago, and he had to do it the
same way.’
‘It sounds dangerous.’
‘It is,’ he grimaced. ‘They caught him after an FBI manhunt, and he got twenty years in jail.’
‘Well, you can’t fly, not with your Italian documents.’ Layla looked around, lowering her voice. ‘And after Naples… it’s probably too dangerous.’
Walker finished his drink, struggling to keep his voice low as well. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
She glared at him. ‘Don’t crack up now, banker boy. If someone really has to – I can go.’
‘You?’ Walker forced himself to calm down, realising he was taking his frustration out on her. ‘I’m sorry. But… you don’t know anything about Deep.’
‘You have all night to teach me. It’s only a data dump anyway, isn’t it?’
‘Not quite…’ He rested his head on his palm, thinking. ‘There are going to be a lot of safeguards, and tricks. DM was very careful.’
‘But you have the hard-coded keys, don’t you?’
Walker fell silent. It could be done, he guessed. Layla would have to learn how to navigate the access portals, and the first-level subroutines, but… He glanced up at her, and tried to set aside his emotions. She was smart, and seemed truly committed. They had ten hours till the morning flights and no other real options. He nodded at her. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded back, looking a little nervous. ‘Try me. I won’t let you down, I promise.’
‘I know.’ Walker took her hand, felt her shaking. She’d need to be relaxed, and confident.
Take it easy on her
. He smiled, trying to make it look real. ‘Fine, of course you can do it. It’s gonna be easy. The Sicilians were faster than your friend, though.’
Layla attempted a small smile and he felt better. ‘Not only that, he’s become ridiculously expensive as well.’
‘Hopefully I won’t need many more.’
‘No. And I’ve already paid anyway, consider it my treat.’
‘I will,’ Walker deadpanned. ‘Especially since you still have my fifty grand.’
‘God, you
are
a banker, aren’t you?’ She rolled her eyes and grabbed her menu. ‘I’m starved, what’s good here – to take away, I guess?’
Walker stood and grinned at her. ‘Nothing you can have. We’ve got to go back to the hotel and start working. You can order a bite from room service.’
‘Great,’ Layla groaned.
They left the restaurant and hurried back towards the Georgian Hotel on foot. It was too close and taxis would have been hard to find in Santa Monica, anyway. In minutes they’d half-sprinted back to the tourist hotspot of Third Street Promenade before Layla grabbed at Walker’s arm, pulling him to a stop. ‘Please, not so fast,’ she panted. ‘I’m not at my best, yet.’
‘Really?’ Walker stepped back, smiled at her flushed cheeks. She gave him the finger and bent, winded, arms on knees.
‘Okay, take your time. We’re almost there anyway.’ He checked the side streets as she caught her breath, seeing nothing. Then he just waited, considering a cigarette. Heartbeats later she straightened up, pushed her hair back behind one ear and grimaced at him.
‘I’m ready.’
‘You sure?’
‘Shut up.’ Layla grabbed on his arms and took off, pulling him along. Walker smiled and let her lead, knowing she would die before stopping again. Within twenty paces the crowds on the Promenade quivered, then dispersed as a light drizzle started to fall. They walked through the remaining tourists and shop-gawkers, past a bar where music thumped, screaming exotic beats. Some stores were shuttered, white-and-red rental signs looking conspicuous. A lonely busker played on, dancing intricate moves to some internal rhythm, oblivious to her sparse watchers. Layla stared at her for a second, then she bit her lip and leaned closer. ‘So, what was the Old Man like?’
‘Intense. And maybe slightly mad, but with reason.’ Walker shivered, remembering the skeletal hands. And the words. And the Frankel file.
‘How?’
‘I’m not quite sure. He thinks that some banker cabal is… hurting the world. And he wants to break it up.’
Layla paused, considering. ‘Is he right?’
‘In my most paranoid conspiracy theories, yes. But in reality – I don’t know. A lot of underhand stuff happens in Finance.’
‘Like what?’
‘We don’t have enough time to go into it… But he talked about a global conspiracy to cause a crisis, cover-ups, governments being ordered about…’ Walker shrugged. ‘The man was a genius, but he’s dying now. He might be delusional. Though a lot of it sounded plausible. ‘
He paused as they turned the corner. A blue car honked, someone shouted and a homeless man rushed through the street. Walker froze and glanced behind and around them, making sure no one was looking at them. Layla squeezed his arm, then let him go. ‘Shit. We’re too jumpy,’ she said.
‘Probably.’
‘We are. Now go on, and try to look normal.’
‘Okay.’ Walker stepped past a traffic light, couldn’t resist another check down the road. ‘The stuff they have on Frankel Schwartz is lethal, though. And with what I told them happened to us, they’ll be able to put even more pieces of the puzzle together. What they’ve managed to hack is incredible.’
‘Couldn’t they have done the same with other organizations?’
‘I’m sure they have. But I don’t really care, not after all that’s happened. This is for Luigi and DM.’ Walker stopped, his eyes losing focus. ‘I just want those bastards to get caught. And the old man needs DeepShare.’
‘Will you give it to him?’
Everything has a price
. ‘Only after they go public on Frankel.’
Layla nodded, considering. ‘Is what they found enough?’
Walker started walking again, running through the possible chain of events in his mind for the hundredth time. ‘I think so. We’ve cobbled together the bad trades they’re hiding in their books. When Hackernym’s stuff comes out, most of the bank’s top management will be in serious trouble, a lot of people arrested. Frankel is going to be headless.’
They had reached the turquoise-blue facade of the Georgian and he stopped in front of the marble steps. ‘By then, it will only take a further push – the event that Deep has predicted should erupt in a crisis, wiping their positions away. The bastards will be in a panic, having to sell in a crashing market. Frankel’s trades are so big and levered that most of its capital will be gone in hours. I expect it to happen so fast they won’t know what hit them.’