previous chapter: Abetment [8]: 1.8: 2083, May 8th, Saturday. 22:05
1464 words
Leslie walks in through the big revolving doors, into a giant hall. In front of her, lines have been formed to the metal detectors and security gates. She really didn’t like the aesthetic of this office. Her employer had moved their operations from the Manhattan office to here since the disaster. But the halls and buildings were never designed to accommodate this many people or this level of security. The metal detectors and scanners were crammed in, and a long queue was forming. She could barely leave the revolving door.
As she is waiting in line, searching for her badge and id, a security guard suddenly stands next to her.
“Are you Leslie Fowler?” He asks
Leslie is confused. Why is that security guard picking her up from the line?
“Yes, that is me,” she answers.
“Can you please come with me?”
“Why? What is going on?” Leslie asks.
“Just come with me, please.” the guard says.
He walks forwards with her through the crowd of people.
“Ma’am, please put your belonging on the belt, and step through the metal detector.”
The man behind her shakes his head. He is looking at his watch, and tapping his foot. His suit looks very expensive, and his watch does too. He steps forward.
“Excuse me, but why does this girl get to cut the line? I have been waiting for half an hour.”
The security guard looks apologetic. “I am sorry sir. Orders from the CFO.”
He shakes his head. “The CFO is at it again. Giving privileges to young and pretty girls. While guys like me have to work our way up.”
He grabs Leslie’s shoulder and forces her to turn around. “Are you fucking Mr Armstrong? Is that why you are allowed to cut the line?”
The security guard grabs the man’s wrist and moves between the man and Leslie. “Sir, if you value your time, you should just wait for your turn. Making a scene and attacking another employee is not gonna make the line move faster. If anything, you are holding up the line. So please wait in silence unless you want me to escort you off the premise.”
The man straightens his jacket. “Fine. But your boss will hear about this.”
“I am sure he will.” The guard turns back to Leslie. “Please step through the gate, Ma’am.”
Leslie steps through the metal arch, and the light turns green. The guard takes her handbag from the belt and pushes it into her hands. “I am instructed to walk you directly to the CFO.”
He leads Leslie into the elevator and presses the button for the top floor. Leslie hangs her head. “I am getting fired, right? Is that why the CFO wants to speak to me?”
He shrugs. “I honestly do not know. I was instructed to bring you there. But don’t worry, I am sure it will be fine.” He cracks a slight smile.
They step out of the elevator, and the guard brings her into a large office.
The office is amazing, it has large windows, looking out over New York. The floor is made from carpet, and next to the window, there is a giant wooden desk. Behind it, is a large black chair, with a middle-aged man sitting in it. He speaks with a low voice.
“You must be Leslie Fowler.”
“Yes, that is me.”
“Please take a seat.”
Leslie sits down. She looks at the surface of the desk. There is only a single tablet lying on it, and a golden plate that reads:
“Reagan Armstrong. Chief Financial Officer of the T.N.Y.N.E. Central bank.”
Leslie starts to panic. Why is she here? What did she do? Mr Armstrong looks really stressed. Sweat is dripping from his forehead, and he is tapping his fingers on the table. Leslie wants to plead for her job. Beg if she has to. She really needs this job. But then again, she is afraid of breaking the silence. Mr Armstrong reminds her of a sleeping lion. Better not to wake him up.
“Leslie,” he starts. “I want to talk about a portfolio you sold three years ago. To a business in the United Coalition of Western States. I reviewed it, and it is completely composed of ‘put options’.”
Leslie immediately knows what portfolio he is talking about. Is this what this is about? Did she make some grave mistakes in the portfolio? Something that costs the company a lot of money?
She slowly exhales in an attempt to calm down. It doesn’t work tho. She speaks softly. “Yes, I remember the portfolio.”
Mr Armstrong nods. “Can you tell me about it?”
Leslie takes a deep breath again. “The portfolio was fully built on the request of the customer. I did warn her it would probably lose all of its value in three years, but she told me she wanted it anyway. Did she complain? Is she angry she lost her money? Is that what this is about?”
Mr Armstrong shakes his head. “Leslie, please slow down, and start from the beginning.”
Leslie sighs. “A 21-year-old woman came into my office, asking if she could buy a put option with a strike price of five per cent of its current value. And an extra clause around zero point five per cent.”
Mr Armstrong is listening in silence.
“I told her we do offer the service, but that usually, the only customers who buy these kind of futures are people wanting to secure there investment. In practice, these options will give you a big payout if a company goes bankrupt. People owning large companies might use them to recoup part of their investment in case things go wrong. But nobody ever buys them on their own.”
“What happened then?” Mr Armstrong
“She told me she wanted to buy them anyways. She asked me, and I quote ‘The fact that they are so unlikely to pay out makes them cheap, right?’ And she was right. There were cheap.”
Mr Armstrong keeps staring at her. Leslie swallows and continues.
“I did my due dilligence. I looked up the company, and it was an insurance company. Building insurance to be exact. Those companies never lose any money. From the books, the company looked very healthy. We figured there was no way it was ever gonna lose money. Let alone ninety-five per cent of its value. Hence, zero chance of ever having to pay out. So free money for us.”
Mr Armstrong sighs. “So you sold her the portfolio?”
Leslie shakes her head. “I suspected she might know things that I didn’t, so I looked into the background of the woman. She inherited her late father’s company and got access to its assets at the age of twenty-one. Part of it she used to pay off the large amount of gambling debts she had, and the rest she wanted to invest. I figured she was just a gambling addict. Her father was a bookie for god’s sake.”
Mr Armstrong nods. “The insurance company, have you checked where it was based? Where the buildings it insured were mainly located?”
Leslie thinks. “If I remember correctly, it mainly insured highrises in Manhattan and Long Island.”
Mr Armstrong stares at her. Leslie’s heart sinks. She suddenly realises the implications.
“The company went bankrupt when the atomic bomb dropped, didn’t it? And now we owe the woman lots of money.”
Mr Armstrong nods. “We owe her more money than the central bank has. Or the Territories of New York and New England have. Hell, I think there is not enough money or assets in the whole world to pay her. As the central bank’s assets are backed by the government, this will immediately Bankrupt the whole country if she decides to execute the option.”
Leslie hangs her head. “You are right to fire me. I’ll pack my things and leave.”
Mr Armstrong shakes his head. “You are not fired. You still have work to do.”
Leslie looks back up at him in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“The customer contacted us. She is willing to waive her rights to the giant payout.”
“Really? Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. She asked for a meeting with the president. He has already agreed. I am gonna be in that meeting, and I want you to be there too. She has this whole country at gunshot, so I can only imagine what her demands are.”
“I’ll be there,” Leslie says.
“Oh, one last thing.” Mr Armstrong says. “The customer hates being called by her last name. So make sure you call her by her first name.”
Leslie forces a smile. “Sure, what is her first name again?”
“Her first name is Stephanie.”
next chapter: Abetment [10]: 2.2: 2083, September 29th, Wednesday. 10:00
all chapters: Abetment