CHAPTER TWENTY

March was frenetic. The whole show roared forward in great style. The Empire was running well. Jacqui had to slow down as she approached her seventh month. Maria was fit again and kept a close eye on Charles’ fellow directors, both in and out of the office.

Di Maglio called occasionally but it was always with ill grace. Jacqui and he had become all the more estranged since he had suggested he was not her father. It was as if the only link between them had been broken. Charles’ relationship with him appeared better. Di Maglio was duly impressed by Maddy Brown who ran the Empire with the necessary iron fist.

Charles and Jack Ryder carefully monitored the complex web of transactions that would bring down IBE and make them the first part of their fortune. They had now completed the large part of the fund heist.

They had created and sold their phoney investments, shell companies backed by skilfully structured mirages of smoke and mirrors that blinded the experts and bamboozled the rest. And all that profit was already in their accounts. They had it in cash, well away from IBE and its associated banks.

But even more profit had come though the genuine shares they had sold to the US funds. The prices of these shares, though, were highly inflated. They were incredibly overvalued. They had kept the market in those shares short of supply and the prices soared all the time that the funds bought them from them. It had all been so simple, and it was much less risky than dealing solely in investments of their own creation.

The stock markets boomed. The fund prices soared to reflect their holdings. Investors poured more money in and the funds used that money to buy even more shares. And so it had continued with the funds fuelling the rise in the shares they owned as they bought more of them and pushed the price higher and higher. Demand was slowing down now and Jack Ryder was simply manipulating the market to stop the share prices from falling; at least until they wanted them to.

They had guessed that it would take the bank and their auditors some time to figure out something had gone seriously wrong in the trading room and with their lending. And they had the comfort of Lord Dunkillin and Sir Brian signing off on everything in the meantime. But time was their enemy. Sooner or later the hole would be found. It was just too big not to be noticed. They would act fast. The longer they waited, the greater the risk of discovery.

The loans would go into loss as their borrowers defaulted. They had ensured that the companies were able to meet financing costs through to the end of June. That was the date when the defaults would really start.

They still, of course, had the final billion-dollar loan scam to do, but that deal was being negotiated. Nobody could tell that they were behind it. Like any good fraud, they had kept it all so simple, using a Di Maglio shell company without his full knowledge. The money would just flow through it to allow, yet again, the finger of suspicion to point at Di Maglio. But where it flowed to, nobody would be able to trace. At least, it would not be traceable after the first payment into an account of one Di Maglio in Panama. But it stayed there for just one minute and then was routed away to secret accounts that could never be traced by taxman, government or just the inquisitive.

The bank was being built up to allow it to fall. And with the bank went Di Maglio, thanks to the generosity of the warranty in the elusive page thirty three of their agreement. Few would believe, when the claims were made, that the authorities had found all his money. But Charles was certain he could ensure that most of it was traceable, at least the parts he wanted to have traced.

And the losses of the bank and their investors would largely to be covered by the warranty from Di Maglio in that extra page thirty-three of the sale agreement they had signed the previous year. The page that stated that, for a period of twelve months after the sale of PAF to IBE, Di Maglio personally guaranteed the bank and its clients from any losses due to fraud, malpractice or wilful neglect by the previous or then current management And who was going to believe that Di Maglio hadn’t removed it from his copy, especially as it went straight from page thirty two to thirty four. Innocence and Di Maglio would be deemed strange bedfellows. While many would applaud the foresight of Charles and the negotiating team in getting such protection, just as many would question why Di Maglio had signed his financial death warrant in that way. And they would ask how he had allowed his hidden wealth to be traced and seized. How had he allowed himself to be destroyed?

The sale of the bank to the public was helped by a continuation of the speculation on the likely level of the next year’s profits. McGarth played his full part when he appeared on prime time TV. He enthused about the numbers of new accounts the US bank was opening. He marvelled at the outstanding investment performance of the bank’s funds. He even did them a great favour by insisting that he and his local management, and not the bank owners, were the driving force behind the amazing performance. He boasted that it was due to the expertise of ‘his boys in Wall Street’ as he called them. He claimed so much credit for himself that he helped exonerate all others from blame. The man was certainly earning his keep.

Charles toyed with the idea of getting the Honourable James to do the same thing, but he felt even he was too bright for that job. So they managed to get Sir Brian on one of the money programmes and he excelled. Charles told him to play down his and Jacqui’s role and play up that of himself, the Honourable James and Lord Dunkillin. He said that investors needed to believe in the solid state of the bank and that could only be achieved if Charles had a lower profile and the distinguished, well-known directors a higher one. Indeed, gullible Sir Brian lapped Charles’ suggestion up with joy on a roller coaster of an ego trip and needed no further brief.

When interviewed, he proudly stressed his role as the wise man overseeing the key areas of credit and treasury. He stressed the role of the old guard. There was, according to him, a belief in experience on the board. He implied that Charles had the occasional good idea but suggested he focused on his outside interests rather than the bank. He failed to mention Jacqui’s role at all and made her choke with laughter, and perhaps fury, when he said that, quite rightly, she was a mother and a mother first rather than an active director. The bank’s success was all about himself, the Honourable James and Dunkillin.

He actually took it a bit far and they started to challenge him. He countered all by saying that Charles’ role was to think strategically. He pointed out that Charles had engineered the PAF deal. But he stressed that did not mean he ran it. McGarth was credited with that, reporting to the board and not to Charles. It was outstanding. The media were manipulated. And that happened on both sides of the Atlantic.

April saw Charles again heading all over the world as they put together the prospectus and ran the interminable road shows that are meant to impress the big investors and give them the sight and feel of management. Or, at least, the sight and feel that they wished them to have.

They had little more to do inside the bank but wait for its losses and their profits to crystallise. So, always in the background, Charles kept busy on the sale of the bank to the public. He marvelled at the expressions of interest. And he laughed at all the hyperbole in the press.

They were getting enquiries from the Far East and the Middle East, as well as the US and Europe. They were desired by pension funds, sovereign wealth funds, insurance funds, mutual funds, the wealthy and the not so wealthy. The advisors agreed they would try to hit the high end of the range in price. In the end, they issued the prospectus.

They stuck to the one point eight billion-dollar forecast made at the time of results, despite the belief in the market that this was too low and the opportunity of raising the price if they raised the forecast profit. But Charles was concerned that any changes would have to be re-audited and could see no value in encouraging any added scrutiny of their books. There was always the outside chance that such an exercise could lead to someone sharp stumbling over one of their phoney or phantom deals.

So they revealed the price. They said that they would float at just over sixteen dollars a share. They announced that, to ensure that there was no dominant control of the company, they would sell seventy five per cent of the shares. The company would be valued at an incredible eighteen billion dollars and the sale would raise over thirteen billion dollars for them.

The markets boomed and the shares were in heavy demand. As the final day for applications arrived, the flood of requests rose. The banks had to take on extra staff to handle the flow of paper. In London, New York, Paris, Frankfurt, Hong Kong and the Gulf they clamoured for shares. Then the offer closed with television coverage showing near pandemonium as investors rushed to meet the last minute deadline for getting their applications in to the advisors. The next day, they announced that they had been oversubscribed a massive six times. The issue was a major success. The forecast was that the price would go to twenty dollars a share and that helped them keep on the front pages for the rest of the month.

The atmosphere in the bank was electric as everybody became a capitalist. The employees had privileged access to the pot of shares for sale. The bank lent them money to buy them. They were hungry to make their fortune. Charles knew many of them would sell at the first opportunity and, therefore, not lose money. Otherwise he would have felt awkward about it.

They didn’t care what happened once the scams hit the world of big business. But they didn’t want to have to face popular approbation. And they had engineered the famous page thirty-three of the agreement with the unlimited warranties from Di Maglio to ensure that the small depositors were protected. Some would lose, they couldn’t afford to be purists. Not if they wanted to succeed. There would always be casualties.

The deal finally closed and the money was paid over. After all expenses, the shares had been sold for thirteen point four billion. The advisors and others had made two hundred million dollars from the deal. But that was not of concern to them. Top advisors were expensive. But they would also be hit by the eventual demise of the bank. Were they lax in their scrutiny? Did they give the company the benefit of the doubt? Were they swayed by the temptation of super millions for their fees? If there were losses, they could even be sued. And the more people in the dock, the less the spotlight fell on Charles and Jacqui.

For Charles and his family, the money joined the cash already banked from the frauds. Their expected cash kitty totalled well over twenty billion dollars. It was conservatively invested well away from IBE and in structures that only the very rich can afford. As one could guess, they were not paying much tax on those gains.

June approached its end and they put the final three phases of the scam into play. Jack Ryder and Charles worked night and day. They started calling in the trades through their different companies and structures, always using trusted intermediaries. And a trusted intermediary was one who was paid well, anonymously, and understood the meaning of discretion.

There was pandemonium the first day in the IBE trading room as they claimed their profits, lodged their claims and exercised their options. Charles sensed it as he passed the room and heard snatches of anguished conversation.

“What the fuck’s happening. We owe them and the computer says we’ve made a bundle?”

“Who wrote this agreement? What’s clause seven? What’s meant by a fucking alternative algorithm?”

“What shit-head wrote a trade and guaranteed the price of the Zimbabwe dollar. It’s worth just one percent of what it was last month!”

“What asshole did something called a reverse default swap? What is it and why’s it costing us a hundred when the computer says we are making twenty on it…..of course I’m talking frigging millions. What did you think? I wasn’t talking… oh, shit another bloody claim. We never shorted the euro at the bottom, did we? This company wants to close the deal out. Here it is; the buggers right. Who agreed this? Bloody hell, it was Dunkillin and nephew and it’s one of their family companies. The auditors are really going to like that one.”

“I’ve a loss here on a swap deal. It’s madness and this sod of a computer still says we are making money on it. Something’s wrong with the programme. We must have been legged over by that arsehole, Stephens. When I next see him, I’ll kill the mother fucker.”

“Of course we have to pay the claim. They’ll put us in default if we don’t.”

“Shut up about your fucking bonus; if it carries on like this there won’t be money for the bloody latte this afternoon.”

Charles saw the worried faces of Sir Brian and Dunkillin. But he pretended not to and kept well away. He failed to see the Honourable James on the first day. But he knew, through Maria, that he spent a long time with McGarth. Apparently the US Chief Executive was hyperventilating on the phone.

They set the stage for the billion-dollar loan. The Honourable James’ son grabbed all the credit as originator of the deal. That was just as well as the billion was going to be easy to trace as it went to a Di Maglio account, before passing into an account in New York in the name of the Honourable James’ son himself and then onto a very secret account he appeared to hold in the Cayman Islands. That account was so secret that even he did not know about it. Unfortunately, there the trail ended and nobody could trace what had happened to the money. Charles was the master money-launderer.

And all the deals quickly completed. Funds flowed. Wires buzzed. Bank after bank eagerly grabbed its commission as the money winged round the world and then back again. It changed its name. It was split into a variety of different payments. They were regrouped. They transited every tax haven in the world. They caressed the shores of countries, that had strong banking secrecy laws. They washed here and there and lost themselves in the maze of payments that are made each day around the world. And all that happened within a day. Some banks rashly made payments away before they had received the funds in. Others waited. The e-world buzzed as the funds, like a helter-skelter swooped around the globe that day. And they did so the next day and the one after. Sometimes they were invested in the morning, only to be sold off later that day. Other times, they were used in complex stock market operations that were unwound in another centre. In yet more cases, they were united with payments waiting for their arrival. By the time it all ended, they had been washed, not just clean but whitewashed to perfection. No Maddy Brown would be able to trace one of the biggest and best money laundering acts in banking history. Charles felt proud of himself. They were the masters of the disappearing cash act.

They sold shares in IBE. Jacqui was expecting the baby any day but she had to come in especially to handle the forging of the share register. She had taken charge of that area; a tedious occupation that nobody else wanted but which was a rich pasture for fraudsters such as them. That was Jacqui’s last role at this stage, as she manipulated the share register and hid the true source of the sales.

They had sold shares at twenty five dollars and raised about two billion. And the sale took place without anyone in the market smelling a rat. Even Jack Ryder was amazed at his own audacity. The shares in time risked being almost worthless. But they were in line for another couple of billion. The money making machine was on fast forward. The till was open and the cash was pouring in.

At the same time, Jack Ryder was also handling a series of transactions for their personal funds. They started to deal to anticipate the market slump that would automatically follow the announcement of losses, and, eventually the collapse, of the bank.

They placed around a hundred million on deposit into IBE. It helped increase the illusion they were innocent.

By the end of the week, they had called in around five hundred million of trades from the bank. Still, Charles had not been told anything. As he had given the control of that area to Sir Brian and Lord Dunkillin, he let things ride. He planned a few days off the next week as Jacqui was due to give birth on the Sunday.

They had a quiet dinner together that Saturday night. Juliet was asleep upstairs. Maria had long since returned home. They had arranged security for her and she felt safe. Indeed, they all did. Bathing in that security, they ate and waited for the baby. Then the phone rang. It was Maddy Brown.

Maddy announced her news, “Di Maglio has been attacked. It was the Russian Mafia. And they’ve delivered us an ultimatum. Hand over the Empire to them for payment of two billion dollars in the next forty-eight hours or you, Jacqui, Juliet and the new baby die. I’ll also be a target. I think they mean business. They say they’ve already got the hit in place and they mentioned the Portland Hospital.”

Charles froze. That was where Jacqui was to have the baby, but Maddy’s next words hit home more, “They’ve also got Carrie’s address and say she’ll be blown away with all around her.” Carrie had agreed to look after Juliet while Jacqui was in hospital. They had thought she would be happier with other children to distract her rather than be alone with nanny.

“How bad is Di Maglio?”

“He should pull through. Hit in the chest and the stomach but it doesn’t look too complicated. Two bodyguards were killed. It all came out of the blue.”

“Let me sort things out here and I’ll come back to you. We need to act. And act fast.”

Jacqui had been listening on the other extension so there was no need to tell her anything. Charles thought for a while. Then he looked at her. Her face was serious. She understood. This was the crunch. They had to move forward quickly. Charles thoughts turned to the bank. His father could sort out the open trading issues. The loans were done and dusted. The issue was off the ground. The news of Di Maglio would be known. It would surprise nobody if Charles were out of town.

Jacqui looked at him. She read his mind, “You’ll have to be here for number three. It looks as if number two is going to be born without you there. You haven’t a choice.”

“What about security?”

“Delaney,” she said. “You need Maria.”

Charles didn’t answer but picked up the phone and called Delaney. He listened carefully. “I’ll step up security. We’ll sweep the Portland anyway but we’ll move Jacqui elsewhere. I’ll be over in half an hour. Wait for me. I’ll see to Carrie’s place as well.”

“Is it wise for you to come over? You could be recognised. I’m likely to be under surveillance. “

“Don’t worry. That’s why I need the time. They won’t recognise me. I doubt you will either.”

Charles called Maria, “Get ready. There’s a change of plan. I’ll pick you up in around forty-five minutes. We’re going abroad.”

She didn’t ask anything. She would know that he wouldn’t leave Jacqui just before the baby was born unless it was vital. He could brief her in the car.

Jacqui was watching him. She was pale but calm. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were bright but reflective. They seemed to mirror thoughts of the birth to come, the older man lying wounded and the dangers ahead. They could handle most things, but this could be gang warfare on a scale that they had never known before.

The last time she had been by his side. Memories of past dangers in France, California, Mexico City, Paris and Monte Carlo came to mind. She smiled at him, once again with that smile of sadness mixed with love. It was also a smile of hope mixed with trepidation. Charles would now be like the conductor of an orchestra, guiding the music to its finale and final silence. Alone on the rostrum, everything would depend on him. Di Maglio had him where he wanted him to be. He wanted him at the head of his Empire. And now he would have to be there, for that was the only way to triumph.

Delaney arrived. Or, at least, a vagrant shuffled down the street. Nobody would have guessed his identity. Moments later, four or five extra men appeared. They took up their positions silently as one of their number started to check the house. One of the duty guards was handed the lead to a dog that sniffed through the house in search of explosives.

Charles waited till the house and grounds had been searched, “That looks OK. Now, it’s time for me to go.”

Jacqui looked strained. She bit her lip. “Come back,” she whispered. “I’ll be waiting. So will Juliet and the baby. We’ll be on the island. I’ll see that the deals go through. I’ll work with your father.”

He kissed her quickly. There was no point in long goodbyes. He turned and, without looking back, headed to the car that was already waiting. Douglas asked no questions. He drove the mile or so to Maria’s. They didn’t go in. They waited, engine running, outside in the street. A minute later, Maria appeared and got into the car. She carried a small bag. That was all. They didn’t need clothes. Those could always be bought.

“Where are we heading?”

“New York will be the second stop. But, first, it’s Geneva. We need to pick up Maddy Brown. Di Maglio was hit. He may have lied about the Russians last year. But his concerns weren’t totally ill founded. They want the Empire. It’s the usual stuff. They’ll kill us all or buy it for two billion. In reality, they most likely would double cross us whatever we did. But we’ll sort it out. We need to talk strategies on the plane. I need to consider them now. Then we discuss them with Maddy. I want the US to be the battleground. It’s our home territory for this type of activity and so easier for us than for the enemy.”

She listened. She said nothing. She left him alone. The twenty minutes or so to the airport would give him opportunity for thought. He needed to work out both how to destroy the Russians and the Empire. In the end, the Russians had to be so weak that they posed no danger. And the Empire had to be destroyed so totally that it was impotent. The destruction of the Empire had to look accidental. Otherwise they would be faced with revenge killings and worse.

Charles needed everyone to think “poor guy”. He lost his bank. He lost his Empire. He knew they would realise he was worth a few billion irrespective. But the untold riches that he could have expected would have slipped his grasp. He had to be seen as the one who could have been the most powerful businessman in the world.

They got on the plane. Alone in the lounge area of the private jet, Charles discussed his strategy with Maria.

“We need to run this as a threesome. It will be you, Maddy and me. There’s nobody else we can trust with the whole deal. There’ll be a fifty million dollar bonus for you if we succeed.”

He looked at her and noted her look of surprise. “That’s generous,” she remarked.

He knew now he could depend on her one hundred percent. He was happy to trust her in the bank. But this was different. This was about the Empire. And previously she worked there. Previously, she had different loyalties.

“It’ll be dangerous. You’ll earn it,” was his careful reply. There were thoughts one did not share. Especially as, if she double crossed him, he would have to kill her. But he didn’t think that would happen.

“The plan will be simple. We’ll destroy the Empire. It can only cause us problems. We’ll bring it down with stealth. It will be worthless. At the same time we will destroy the Russians. We’ll hit them like we did in Uzes those years back. But we won’t do it in quite the same way. We’ll set them up and allow the police to do the rest. The three of us can’t fight battles like we did in the past. We no longer have the people for that sort of thing any more. Or, at least, people we can trust.”

“How will you set them all up?”

“Maddy will become a double agent. She will negotiate with them. She’ll persuade them that they need to weaken me. She’ll pretend my heart isn’t in the business and one big failure will push me into their arms. They’ll be told to try to take us out on a big drug shipment. We’ll organise one. And they’ll be drawn into making a heist. Except that the FBI will have the whole plans leaked to them. That’s the outline. We need to work the detail.”

Maria thought through the plan, “How much will you need to use as bait?”

“It has to be big. I thought around a billion in street value. We’ll get the Russians to believe we have protection and are bringing in six months’ supply in two shipments. We can suggest that we are doing it because of uncertainty. One shipment should be into one of the private New Jersey airports we use. The other will be somewhere more remote, perhaps in Alabama where they have the secret drugs depot. There’ll be no problem finding an airfield there but the communication lines are tough. That’ll mean they’ll need two full attack forces. That’ll stretch them.”

“Charles, Alabama is awful. The communication lines to us would be poor as well. You need to use somewhere in California.”

She was right. And it would add to the story’s credibility. It would appear they were warehousing for the New York area and also the San Francisco and Los Angeles strip. That counted for around sixty per cent of the entire US demand and about ninety per cent of their franchise.

Lake Geneva came into view and the plane landed at the main airport. Their two bags were put in the waiting car. Douglas replaced the driver and they headed to the compound. Three men on motorbikes surrounded them. Each had a pillion passenger. And as they drew out of the gates of the airport a four-wheel drive pulled in front and one slipped behind them.

“Maddy sees you as very important,” remarked Maria. “I’m impressed. I’ve never met her. But the word is that she’s tough. You kept your links to her very quiet.”

He looked at her. “On the grounds of only telling people what they need to know, wouldn’t you? She was useful, especially in the early days. I needed to ensure we didn’t blow her cover.”

The car made the compound without incident. They headed up the stairs to the house. The door opened and Maddy was there. Charles watched the two women closely. Maddy would know that his relationship with Maria was not always platonic. Maria would wonder whether it was not the same with Maddy. The cool leggy blonde with the ice blue eyes looked at the sultry brunette whose combat clothes hid the voluptuousness of her body and made her look surprisingly androgynous. The atmosphere between them was immediately cool, but not hostile.

They entered the study. It was just the three of them. Charles walked to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a beer. Maria took a malt whisky on the rocks. Maddy took nothing. Charles explained the plan to Maddy. She didn’t question it. Her only comment was that she would need to organise a driver and guns in New York.

“No, Douglas will drive us. He’s useful for a back up. But get me a bodyguard that you can trust. The important thing is when can you organise the drug shipment?”

“I take a large delivery, around six hundred million bucks on Thursday in Columbia. I could up it to the billion without problem. They’ll deliver more for a premium.”

“Stick to a billion. You have the funds?”

“No problem. We’ll borrow from your banks in the US.”

“Good,” he said and laughed inwardly. It would be the final irony if they lost money on this deal. “Now, you two stop sizing each other up. No antagonism. Work together. If there’s a problem, tell me.”

Charles had noticed how the two women eyed each other up. There was competition there and he needed to ensure that it didn’t get in the way.” Maddy, you’re on the same bonus as Maria. Fifty million if we succeed.”

She looked as surprised as Maria had. Charles wondered if she’d claim the funds or if they’d go to her expense account at MI5. He didn’t ask. If she’d grabbed them, that would give him useful future leverage, so he rather hoped she would. Charles dialled Delaney’s number. He answered. It had gone midnight in London.

“How are things?” asked Charles

“There are no signs of explosives here at all. We can’t identify a watch on the house. The Portland’s OK. Carrie’s place is OK as well. But we continue our watch. Jacqui went to sleep half an hour ago. She’s fine. Is everything all right with you?”

“Yes. We have our plans sorted. We’re off to the US tomorrow. Can you get me someone trustworthy to contact me? Use the usual codes for identification. I need two major hit squads. And I need a guarantee of a shoot to kill policy. One’s likely to be in California and one’s going to be in New York. We’ll give the details to the contact. I prefer him to be one of yours. He should be the linkman. And I want a guarantee of immunity from prosecution in the US for anything we do. And I want it from the President.”

“That may be tough to arrange.”

“Then arrange it. I need it for Monday morning. The hit could be Friday. And I need it for Maria, Maddy and me. Oh, and you better get it for Douglas in case he has to break the law. “

“How do you want it worded?”

“I want a full indemnity and total anonymity. On anything we do in the US between now and end August. That should be enough time.”

Delaney muttered that he would see what he could do. Charles felt sure he would deliver. And the indemnity could be useful as further immunity for the scam, should he need to do anything in the intervening period.

It looked as if the banks would collapse during July or early August. It was difficult to gauge the exact timing. And, still, the great and the good had not told him anything about the trading losses. They must be hoping against hope to drag themselves out of their mess. That was crazy; it just appeared to compound their guilt and reinforce the notion that he had been duped. Charles hoped this was all the start of a month or so of good luck. He sensed that they would need it.

Maddy had, meanwhile, been on the phone. She had booked three first class seats on Swissair from Geneva for the next day. She had also arranged guns and transport in New York. She was now phoning the hospital where Di Maglio was being kept. She listened to the report from one of her men.

“He’s rough,” she advised him. “We thought it was simple but it appears there are complications. The next forty eight hours are critical.”

“Can you arrange for his early demise?”

“Not with my boys. They’ll retain their old loyalties.”

Charles shrugged his shoulders. “It’s an option, it would simplify things. But forget it.”

He saw Maria’s shocked look. She still felt loyalty in that direction. He had to remember that. Even though Di Maglio had threatened her and killed her best friend, she couldn’t be relied on to kill him. It was worth knowing. Charles, surprised by this unexpected loyalty, only hoped she felt the same way about him.

They had nothing else to arrange and so all went to their separate rooms. Next morning they headed off to the airport and then onto New York. They landed in the early afternoon and drove into the city centre. The car was waiting, accompanied by the necessary outriders and escorts. This was not a time to take too many risks.

They travelled down the road where Claire had been killed. Charles could remember the exact spot and felt a strange urge to order the car to stop. He wanted to sit and reflect on the gentleness of Claire. To say a last goodbye to the girl who was and the child who didn’t make it.

He thought back over the years and remembered the loss of Jacqui’s first baby at Rastinov’s hands. His torture had killed the unborn child. Now Rastinov was dead. He thought of Di Maglio and his hand in Claire’s death. Now Di Maglio was critically wounded in a hospital here in New York. He thought of the children who had died as a result of the Empire’s drug and crime riddled hell. The final stage of that game was coming to its conclusion.

Maria looked over as they passed the spot. She knew. She realised what he was thinking. Her hand took his with a gentleness that was not usual and she stroked it rather than squeezed it. Her body moved closer to his and he felt her calming warmth. The gentle swell of her breasts pressed against his arm. She woke him from his reverie as they sped down that fated highway.

Maddy, in front next to Douglas, was watching them keenly. She sensed something had happened here and they needed each other as companions rather than lovers. And she was sensitive enough not to want to intrude.

Moving into the city through the deep tunnel and into mid town Manhattan, Charles took the phone. Jacqui’s mobile did not answer, but Delaney’s did. She had gone to hospital. He had had her transferred to one in Paddington. It was easier to guard. Nobody had identified any sign of trouble but they were keeping a close guard on the house, Carrie and the hospital. Delaney called. His man would contact them at the hotel. They were gradually getting the final pieces into play.

Charles called the hospital number that Delaney had given him. The nurse said she could not pass him to Jacqui. She was in labour. They expected she would give birth soon. It all sounded so clinical. The nurse clearly disapproved of the husband whose business took him away at such a time. She told him he could ring in an hour or so and she would tell him how things were.

They pulled in at the Pierre. They had a suite and two rooms, which all interconnected. Maria and Charles took the bedrooms and Maddy the suite. It was a sort of present for someone who was on active service for the Empire for the first time. Charles’ room adjoined her bedroom and Maria’s her lounge. They would keep the doors unlocked in case they needed to move together in the event of attack.

They checked plans. In reality, there was little they could do until they had set up the shipments on Monday, so Charles called his father and ran through the actions needed to put the bank into play.

Loan proceeds were safe in their hands. Companies were waiting to be placed in default so that the banks took their hits.

The portfolio of overvalued shares and phoney investments had all been sold on to the funds. The cash from them had long since been washed around the world into their secret accounts.

They had sold shares in the bank, and then unloaded some more as the market and the shares continued to rise.

Jack Ryder was also selling other shares they did not own in the markets, in anticipation of the inevitable fall out that would occur when the bank went into default. But that was like their normal day to day activities. Taking advantage of insider information but ensuring they left trails good enough to avoid discovery by even the most expert forensic auditor.

Charles called the hospital. The news was unchanged. He got the frosty nurse again. Jacqui was in labour. She was fine. He could get a message to her but not talk. He sent her his love. He called Delaney. Everything checked out. There had been no suspicious action. All was quiet on all fronts. They had placed guards on Maria’s house and put the bank’s main office under surveillance. He told him that the contact was in play and would be known to Maddy under the code name of Galileo.

Charles told Maddy. She said he was good, an older agent, trustworthy but not too reliable if the action got over hot. That was the right man to act as go between for them with the US secret service. Charles needed to keep a careful barrier between them and him. There were too many friends of Di Maglio on the US side for his liking. Nor was he sure of the scale of the Di Maglio web of corruption.

He called the hospital where Di Maglio was being treated and Aldo came to the phone. He said the hit had been unexpected. It happened in a restaurant in Little Italy. Attackers had opened fire with sub machine guns. Two bodyguards had been killed. Di Maglio had been hit several times. He was still unconscious. The prognosis was not favourable. He could be wheelchair bound if he was unlucky. He was still at risk.

Charles hung around another hour or so. He called the London hospital again. He was father of another little girl. Jacqui and baby were fine. Jacqui was resting. He insisted that the mobile was given to her. Her voice sounded fine. He asked about the baby. She looked like Juliet at birth. Blond hair and grey blue eyes. She weighed eight pounds and was perfect. Jacqui had been in labour for six hours. She was tired. He told her about her father and said they would be acting this week. He promised to call the next morning to see how she and the baby were.

They talked on for a few minutes in that strange language of love spurred on by the birth of a child. They talked again of the island. They knew they needed it badly.

Charles walked into Maddy‘s room to tell her and Maria the good news. Maddy wasn’t there but he heard her singing to herself in the bathroom. The door was open and she was lying under a sea of foam with just her face and her mop of hair visible above the water.

He told her about the baby and she blew him a kiss. She looked at him with a soft smile as he seemed to gaze at her body, hidden under the foam. “This calls for celebration,” she announced. “We should at least have a dinner tonight. Let’s go somewhere special. See if Maria is game.”

Charles walked across the lounge area and through the connecting door into Maria’s room. “Jacqui’s had a girl. They’re both fine. How about a small celebration tonight? Maddy is keen.”

“I’m willing. But we can’t go anywhere too visible. How about the Village? There’s a little place I know there. It seats about thirty. It’s easy to guard. It’s down a small alley that ends in a cul-de-sac. It’s only good for a suicide attack, so we should be safe.”

He agreed. They needed to relax for an evening and he wanted to celebrate the baby. If he’d been in London, he would have left Jacqui by now. And he suspected he would have done the same thing, so the very idea made the day seem more normal again. They all wore dark jeans, part of their standard battle dress. He went downstairs and found an open news-stand. It sold I love New York T-shirts and he bought three. He took them upstairs and showed them to the girls.

“We don’t want to wear full battle gear. And we need to do some shopping tomorrow before we start working. We’ll need to get ourselves some work clothes. I think I’ll need to get into the bank. I’d like to see if everything’s OK.”

Maria looked at him with a slightly mocking expression. Maddy did not react. For her, it must have seemed a fairly normal request. Maria knew better. She realised he wanted to give yet another example of the duplicity of his colleagues.

Then, quite calmly she pulled off her dark shirt, undid her bra and pulled on the T-shirt. Maddy took up the challenge and pulled off her shirt as well. Like Maria, she realised that the black bra would show through the light material of the T-shirt. So looking at him calmly straight in the eyes with the hint of a smile on her lips, she languidly undid her bra, eased it gently off her shoulders. Then, as if in slow motion, she pulled her new T-shirt on and pulled it tightly into her trousers. The outline of the breasts pressed against the taut material as if they wished to burst free.

Now there was a hint of a smile from Maria as well. She saw competition and enjoyed the thought. In a strange way, the tussle for attention, with Charles as the quarry, brought the two girls together.

Maria booked dinner for seven thirty. Dinner starts early in New York. It was already gone seven and so they called one of the drivers. Douglas had already been given a well-deserved break. The car sped through the empty streets of Manhattan and down into Greenwich Village. The restaurant that Maria had chosen was bright and airy. The clientele was relaxed and noisy. They would fit into this group with ease.

Maria ordered a drink. Charles heard her ask for champagne. She was right. That was the only drink to have at a time like this. The waiter returned and whispered something into her ear. He suspected that she was out to buy some of the best champagne they had. She smiled at the response and nodded her head. The man disappeared with alacrity, only to return a minute or so later with a magnum of vintage Bollinger. The bottle was opened with a satisfactory pop and the contents fizzed up to be caught neatly in a large goblet. The three glasses were filled and the bottle placed in a giant ice bucket.

“To baby Rossi,” called Maria and emptied her goblet in one go. Maddy inevitably took up the challenge and did likewise. Charles had no choice. The waiter swooped back and replenished their glasses. The six glasses had accounted for well over half the magnum.

“To Jacqui,” called Maria and again everyone’s goblet was emptied as they drank her health. Once again the glasses were refilled. “To Charles,” called Maria and the act was repeated again. This time Maddy giggled as she finished off her drink and spilt some down her chin. She caught it with her hand and then wiped her chin clean with a napkin. The waiter appeared with second magnum. He filled their glasses again and Charles raised his to the girls. “To our success,” he said. They all drank the goblet dry.

He realised that this was becoming quite serious drinking. They hadn’t been there long and were already on their second magnum and their fourth goblet. And each goblet looked as if it were a couple of normal glasses of champagne.

They ordered food. It was the sort that you get in those small smart restaurants. It had an artistic look; there were slightly spicy sauces to contrast with some quite bland, but perfectly cooked, food. They ate and they drank, moving on through their second magnum. Maria was drinking faster than Charles and Maddy was drinking almost as fast. Both girls were joking and making gentle fun of each other. There was no maliciousness in their fun. It was friendly to the extreme.

They moved to the main course and then onto ice cream with strange sauces. Charles was amazed that the girls remained sober. Maria, he knew from past experience, could drink most men under the table. But he had never realised that Maddy had the same ability.

Charles heard the noise first. There was the sharp rattle of a sub machine gun and the return of fire. He ducked down to table level. His hand grabbed the gun from his leg holster. He moved quickly to the door. If it opened he would have a good line of fire and an excellent chance of gunning down anybody before they ever caught sight of him.

Maddy had pulled her gun from her bag. He noticed it was a small one. It would be powerful enough to kill. Maria was moving to the other side of the door, taking cover behind the overloaded sweet trolley.

She called out, “Keep calm,” with little effect to the other diners whose noisy enjoyment had ceased when they heard the sound of guns outside. The firing continued and Charles eased to the door, gently opening it as Maria carefully covered him. They saw that their two man escort was slowly retreating down the cul de sac, carefully keeping out of the line of fire, as they faced up to their attackers. The force that opposed them seemed to be seven or eight strong. Charles realised they had to intervene if only to balance the odds or the escort would simply be overcome by force of numbers. He eased himself out and crouched in the doorway. Maria joined him standing just behind him. Maddy was still inside.

Two men broke cover, their machine guns spitting out a hail of bullets at the escort. They ran closer to the restaurant and two others moved into their places firing all the time, ensuring the escort were pinned down behind a line of parked cars. They, in turn, ran forward and another group took their place. The four men at the front then moved towards the restaurant, obviously unaware of Charles and Maria’s presence in the doorway.

They did not expect to be challenged then and were unaware of what hit them as they fell. Two more men jumped out of the cover and headed their way. But Maria and Charles had reloaded and were able to stop them.

Both they and the escort now moved forward. Maddy appeared and Charles signalled her to be careful. She knelt behind a car and watched the street. Then, suddenly, there was the roar of an engine. The gunfire seemed to move away in the distance and then there was quiet. It looked as if the survivors among the attackers had fled in their getaway car.

As the escort stood guard against any renewed attack from the road, Charles edged forward with Maria to check whether their attackers were dead or injured. Maddy covered them from behind. There was a sharp crack of a gun. Charles whirled round. It was Maddy, her mouth wide open in horror and her gun still smoking. One of the men lay on his back, his staring eyes bearing testimony to the accuracy of her aim.

“He waited till you passed and then moved to his knees with a gun pointing at you. He was shamming death.” Maddy looked at him reproachfully, “Watch out. This isn’t a game.”

And then she lent back on the car next to her and started giggling uncontrollably. They knew that this was the affect of champagne and the excitement of the kill. Charles ignored it as Maria and he checked out the others. They were definitely history. The escort told them to leave. They would organise the restaurant and the police. It would only complicate things if they stayed.

And so, carnage behind them, they drove to the Pierre. And, thankfully, they got there without any further incident.