“It’s going to be headline news in a couple hours. Our analysts have done the math. The board of directors has been here all night. Hell, I’ve been awake for thirty hours. The numbers don’t lie.”
“What numbers? What are you talking about?”
“A few months ago, we stumbled across a piece of information. It was a formula, a market model. Similar to the ones we use every day. Except this one was more accurate. We trialed it, made a freakin’ fortune. Problem is, we didn’t figure the market would shift more than a few points in a given week. We were wrong.”
“Yeah, so what? Happens all the time.”
“Not by thirty percent, Parks. Over the last month.”
Martin’s jaw dropped.
“You see what I’m getting at?” Gibbs said. “We used the new model to make smart buys. But we monitored the volatilities with our old model. Like some freakin’ amateurs, we didn’t notice until it was too late. We’re leveraged up the ass, Parks.”
“How bad?”
“Let’s just put it this way – our liabilities will exceed the value of our assets if we don’t unload everything in the next six hours.”
“We’ll get shut down.”
“That’s not the worst of it,” Gibbs said. “If we try to unload our stock now, before the value tanks, people are going to notice. We’ll have started a chain reaction.”
“What are we going to do?”
“The board voted last night. That’s why we’re all here.”
“They’re going to dump the stock.” Parks knew the answer already.
Gibbs nodded, staring intently at the packet of cigarettes. “Carson is going to brief you all. The first few hours are the most crucial. If we don’t sell the bulk of our options before lunch, the buyers will catch on and run for the hills.”
“They want us to sell the stock, knowing it’s going to tank?”
“They’re offering a bonus for the entire floor if we get this done on time. One mil each. Plus another mil each if we hit ninety cents on the dollar.”
Parks leaned against the desk, his head spinning. “This is a lot to take in.”
“Get your head around it quick, son. This is happening. Right now.” Gibbs stuffed the unopened packet of smokes into his jacket pocket and stood up. “Fair warning. Get your head straight.” He escorted Martin out the door. “And put on your game face.”
Martin paused in the doorway. “Wait a minute. You said you found this new model months ago? Why are we only just figuring out the problem now?”
“Some people asked questions at first, but I guess nobody wanted to hear it. The signs were all there, but we were all too busy riding the high to notice. The alarm bells started ringing when one of our biggest accounts pulled out their entire portfolio. Happened yesterday evening, pretty late. Obviously, that got people asking questions. Made us look at the numbers properly.”
“Which account?”
Gibbs leaned against the doorframe. “Blake Investments. They cleared out their stock options pretty much across the board.”
“Guess they saw this coming.”
“Yeah, and they left it ‘til the last minute to do anything. Could have given us a heads up. Instead, the bastards hung us out to dry.” Gibbs shook his head. “Carson’s getting ready. You need to go. Good luck.” He shut the door and disappeared back into his office, probably to sneak a cigarette.
Martin felt his throat close up. It was all over. Less than five years and his career was done – and two million dollars wouldn’t last long. Not in this town. Not after the IRS took half and the rest went on the house. Not with school loans. Not with car payments.
Across the office, Senior Vice President Jack Carson stood with his back to the window. With the sun coming up behind him through the tall glass, he was surrounded by an aura of light. Like some kind of bizarre angel. Or a prophet. Or a demon. Either way, Martin knew, in the next few minutes everything was going to change – and he’d better be ready for it.
The senior VP held up both hands. The room fell silent. Carson addressed the floor. Martin listened, feeling the tension in the air. The words were carefully chosen but, somehow, hearing Carson say them had a deeper impact than Martin had expected. There were hurried whispers in the audience. Looks of shock and surprise. The curtain had been pulled back, revealing a sham – one that an entire office of people had given their careers to support. And their leader, the man charged with guiding them through the storm, was selling out.
The whispers grew louder and Carson finished. He looked around at the worried faces. “I can’t pretend this won’t be difficult,” he said. “But we’re survivors. We’re warriors. You’re the best of the best and I have every confidence in you.” He waited as the murmurs died down.
“Are there any questions?”
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About the Author
Nick Stephenson
Nick Stephenson was born and raised in Cambridgeshire, England. He writes mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels, as well as the occasional witty postcard, all of which are designed to get your pulse pounding. His approach to writing is to hit hard, hit fast, and leave as few spelling errors as possible. Don’t let his headshot fool you – he’s actually full color (on most days).
His books are a mixture of mystery, action and humor, and are recommended for anyone who enjoys fast paced writing with plenty of twists and turns.
Author Page: www.nickstephensonbooks.com