THE TAINTED TRUST: A DOUGLASS CRIME AND ROMANCE THRILLER SERIES (THE KING TRILOGY Book 2) (30 page)

“Did you see that news flash?” Dennis asked.

“Yup. Why?”

“What do you think Iraq’s going to do?”

“Saddam’s playing bullshit poker. That’s what I think.”

“So you think he’ll back off?”

“Yup. He’d be out of his mind to invade. He knows the U.S. would kick the shit out of him if he did.”

“Is that just your opinion, or is it a consensus?”

“I talked to the boys in Rotterdam this morning. To a man, they agree with me.”

“Do we hold our positions?”

“Stay short, and if crude goes to twenty-five, short the hell out of it.”

“Thanks, Andrew,” Dennis said, then smiled as he hung up. Tarquanian had an uncanny knack of being right, most of the time.

August 1, 1990.

With another miscalculation of horrendous proportions, the Kuwaiti’s underestimated Saddam Hussein’s intentions and once again rejected his claim for compensation. After an intense two hour negotiation session in Jidda, talks between the two nations collapsed.

World tensions heightened.

CHAPTER 75

Kuwait. August 2, 1990.

Kuwaiti border guards were quickly eliminated when Russian made T-72 tanks opened fire on them at short range. Within minutes of the brief but savage engagement, the tanks were racing southward to Kuwait City, while Iraqi Mirages and Migs led the way.

Washington. August 1, 1990, 9:00 P.M.

Brent Scowcroft, George Bush’s national security officer, burst into the president’s living quarters on the second floor of the White House. He broke the news that Iraqi troops had crossed the Kuwait border and were heading south. While the news was a surprise to Bush, he assumed the Iraqis intended only to plunder the country before withdrawing.

The Iraqis claimed they had been invited into Kuwait to restore order by an “interim free government” of Kuwaiti revolutionaries who had overthrown the Sabah dynasty, rulers of the emirate for two and a half centuries.

In clandestine radio and television broadcasts, Sheik Saad al-Abdallah Al Sabah, crown prince and premier of Kuwait, issued a plea for resistance, “Let them taste the chalice of death,” he said. “They have come to kill the sons of Kuwait and its women. We shall fight them everywhere, until we clean up their treachery from our land. The whole world is with us.”

Visions of another financial catastrophe raced through Visconti’s mind during a nail biting wait for Assif Raza to answer his telephone. Beads of sweat bathed his forehead. “Come on, Assif, answer the phone.”

At last Raza picked up.

“Assif, it’s Louis. We need to talk.”

“Please do it quickly. I have much to do. Most of our holdings in this country have been frozen.”

“I’m aware of the freeze. Our office was informed three hour ago. Where do we go from here?”

“I apologize for my oversight in our last conversation, Louis. None of our people had the slightest idea the Iraqis would invade. Believe me, it took all of us by surprise.”

“I appreciate that, Assif, but that isn’t what I asked you. You have to appreciate that I have a fortune riding on crude oil. I’ve got to know what’s happening. I can’t rely on the crap they’re feeding us on television.”

“One of our investors is extremely close to the Emir. They spoke briefly today. The Emir advised him that once Kuwait accedes to Saddam’s outrageous demands, Iraq will withdraw from the country.”

“Do you think they will?”

“The Kuwaitis will compromise on money, never on territorial integrity.”

“So what do you think? Will Saddam take the money and run?”

“We believe he will, but now that he has had a taste of the land, it’s become more a roll of the dice.”

“What should I do with my crude position?”

“You could liquidate now and cut your losses. If, however, you have nerves of steel and the patience of Job, you could hold and perhaps make a fortune.”

“What would you do if you were in my position?”

“I would never be in your position, Louis. I am an investor, not a speculator.”

“So you’re really telling me to get out.”

“Under the current circumstances, yes.”

“That’s just lovely,” Visconti said, his anxiety exploding into anger. “Last week you told me to short the hell out of crude. Now you’re telling me to bail out.”

“Unless I misunderstand, Louis, you are being paid to be my financial advisor,” Raza countered, clearly irked by Visconti’s tirade. “I strongly doubt you could afford the reverse.”

“I’m sorry. Assif. This thing is doing funny things to my head.”

“You are forgiven. It’s affecting all of us in very peculiar ways.”

After hanging up, Visconti called Miles Dennis. “Miles, it’s Louis. What’s happening?”

“I’m damn glad you called. I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour.”

“Why?”

“I want you to listen very carefully. I don’t have good news. Are you sitting down?”

“Just give it to me, dammit!”

“Spot crude is going crazy right now. God knows where it’ll be at the end of the day. The Merc. is raising margin requirements to fifty percent. That means you’ll have to come up with another seventy-five million at the close of business.”

“Can you get me out?” Visconti asked, continuing his nail biting in earnest.

“I doubt it. Crude’s limit up. I don’t think there’s a human being on the planet who’s willing to sell crude at twenty-five bucks.”

“So I’ve got no choice. Either I come up with seventy-five million, or… What if I don’t.”

“Don’t even think about it. We’ll close out your position and you’ll blow your brains out.”

“That’s just beautiful. Now I have to start carving into other investments just to satisfy a margin call.”

“I thought you had at least two hundred and fifty million in cash in that trust. What happened to it?”

Dennis’s comment brutally reminded Visconti of the fraudulent entries he had made in reporting the financial status of the King’s trust. “I committed it all to the market,” he lied.

“Then tell me what you want me to do with your position.”

“What the hell can you do? Didn’t you just tell me crude was limit up?”

“I did, but I need your instructions. I don’t want to have to wait around for your call if crude comes off the boil.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“You’re into the spot month on the August contracts… I would put a stop at twenty-six on the August, and ride the September contracts.”

“So you’re telling me I would be out of the August contracts at twenty-six?”

“Yup, but I think you’ll be okay with the September contracts.”

Visconti failed to respond for what seemed like an eternity for Dennis.

“I need an answer, Louis,” Dennis prodded.

“Screw it, Miles,” Visconti said, his teeth clenched. “I stepped up to the table to play the game. I’m not going to chicken out the minute the first deuce is dealt. Don’t liquidate a fucking thing!”

Dennis shook his head in disbelief. “Wow! You’re either a genius or a masochist. I’m not sure which.”

CHAPTER 76

Despite frenzied trading in the wake of the invasion of Kuwait, West Texas Intermediate ended the day off the boil. Near record stockpiles of petroleum worldwide had tempered the fears of investors and speculators. Visconti’s margin call, while still large, was reduced to a mere forty-three million. His determination to play the game had been reinforced. The game had blossomed into a personal crusade.

August 3, 1990.

Iraq said it would withdraw its troops, “As soon as things settle, and when Kuwait’s free provisional government asks us to do so. We hope this will be in a few days, or a week at the latest.”

Miles Dennis frowned as he watched the latest bad news on the moving electronic tape. “U.S. intelligence have monitored a buildup of one hundred thousand Iraqi troops south of Kuwait City, near the Saudi border.”

Fears of an invasion of Saudi Arabia drove the price of crude oil much higher.

August 4, 1990.

More bad news glided across Iacardi’s electronic tape. “Iraqi forces have entered the Neutral Zone on the Kuwaiti-Saudi border, a disputed territory from which both countries draw oil.”

In spite of Baghdad’s denial of the report, fear and tension drove the price of oil still higher.

August 6, 1990.

Turkish president, Turgut Ozal said his country would obey United Nations sanctions and stop unloading Iraq’s oil at its pipeline terminus. Until then, Iraq had exported eighty to ninety percent of its oil through two long overland pipelines: one through Turkey to the Mediterranean port of Yamurtauk, the other across the Saudi Arabian desert to the Red Sea port of Yanbu.

The removal of much of Iraqi oil from world markets put further upward pressure on oil prices.

August 8, 1990.

In a stunning announcement, Iraq declared that it had annexed Kuwait as its nineteenth province, calling it Kadhimat and making it clear to the world it had no intention of leaving. With the annexation Saddam declared, “Thank God we are all now one people, one state that will be the pride of all Arabs.”

Saddam’s intention was to create a regional superpower with enormous economic strength. Together, Iraq and Kuwait had proven reserves of one hundred and ninety-five billion barrels of oil, twenty percent of the world’s reserves and second only to Saudi Arabia’s two hundred and fifty-five billion barrels.

The spot price shot above twenty-eight dollars per barrel and financial markets were hurled into turmoil.

Kerri watched nervously as the price of oil shot skyward. Her tolerance collapsed when she watched it knife through twenty-eight. Sickened by the sights provided by the moving electronic tape, she jumped to her feet and stormed into Dennis’s office. “It’s above twenty-eight!” she announced. “We’ve got to get Louis out!”

“I’ve given up,” Dennis said with a cold stare and a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve called every day this week and tried to convince him to get out. I can’t believe it. He’s absolutely obsessed with this thing.”

“Then I’m going to talk to him,” Kerri declared. “Somebody’s got to stop him.”

“That’s a noble gesture, but not a good idea.”

“Why? I’m sure if I…”

“Every business decision should be made objectively. If Louis’s decision is based on your advice, and it turns out to be improvident, he might never forgive you. In other words, the strength of your relationship could work against you. I think it’s more important than money, don’t you?”

Kerri nodded, reluctantly accepting Dennis’s advice.

“I’ll call him again,” Dennis said, then lifted his receiver and dialed Visconti’s number. He used his left hand to beckon Kerri to stay while he waited for his call to be transferred to Visconti.

“I bet you’re calling to convince me to liquidate,” Visconti said.

“You’re farting against a hurricane, Louis. I’m sure you know it’s above twenty-eight and climbing.”

“Give it another day or two, Miles,” Visconti replied, so calmly that Dennis was unable to detect the churning in the pit of his stomach.

Dennis slammed the receiver into its cradle, then lifted his hands above his shoulders and stared at the ceiling. “He’s insane, absolutely certifiable!”

“Maybe, but I still love him,” Kerri said, then hurried from Dennis’s office.

August 9, 1990.

George Bush issued a statement confirming that the U.S. would draw against the six hundred million barrels of oil in its Strategic Petroleum Reserve as a means of easing upward pressure on oil prices. Simultaneously, the International Energy Agency, comprised of twenty-one industrialized nations, urged heightened preparations to meet the need for alternative oil supplies. The two moves, combined with reports that some O.P.E.C. nations planned to boost production, pushed the spot price down to slightly below twenty-six dollars.

Late in the afternoon, Visconti called Dennis and ordered the liquidation of his August contracts. “I’m keeping the September contracts to the death, Miles!” he vowed, well aware that the loss sustained by the King’s trust was horrendous.

CHAPTER 77

The deepening crisis in Kuwait raised agonizing doubts in Visconti’s mind. The loss of almost eighty-four million from the King’s trust had dealt his pride the most severe blow it had received since the crash of 1987. His nightmare had barely begun.

August 22, 1990.

Iraq possessed the fourth largest army in the world. With one million men and fifty-five hundred tanks, the country represented a serious threat to world stability. The massive buildup of troops and armaments on the Saudi Arabian border suggested strongly that Iraq might continue its aggression. It could conceivably capture forty percent of the worlds oil production, or at least knock out a significant portion of Saudi production. The result in either event would force the price of oil much higher and plunge the world into a deep recession. The spot price of oil shot to a seven year high above thirty-one dollars. Gasoline prices headed for the stratosphere.