been considering a run on the New York Stock Market.
“This action was to be ‘just’ retribution for what they considered broken promises, even
outright fraud
practiced by U.S. banks and the New York brokerage houses.
“At the very least, the oil cartel hoped to initiate a short-term panic, which they alone would be in a position to take advantage of.
Is this rumored scenario related to tonight?
At this moment, I don’t know …
“I have fears, though, that we’re at the beginning of a grave international economic crisis. Gentlemen, it would not be an exaggeration to postulate, to prepare ourselves for the possibility, that the Western economy could effectively collapse on Monday, when the Market will reopen.”
President Kearney’s intensely blue eyes continued to make contact around the crisis table.
“We must find out
who
initiated the attack on Wall Street last night. We have to find out how they did it. We have to find out
why
…”
Chapter 13
ARCH CARROLL’S HEAD was buzzing and his eyes stinging as he filed out of the White House conference room at 2:55 A.M . The other participants were mostly subdued and silent; they looked either somberly reflective, exhausted, or both.
Carroll had already started down a flight of creaking, thickly carpeted south White House stairs, when a hand rested on his shoulder, startling him.
Carroll twisted around to see Walter Trentkamp, impressive as ever at three in the morning.
“Trying to run out on me?” Trentkamp shook his head ill the manner of a father about to chastise his son in the friendliest terms possible. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. Have a minute to talk?”
“Hello, Walter. Sure we can talk. How about going outside? It might clear our heads a little.”
Moments later, Carroll and Trentkamp walked side by side through the early morning mist shrouding Pennsylvania Avenue. The sky was a heavy gray slab covering the capital city. In the distance, the Washington Monument looked like the sword in the stone.
“I haven’t seen enough of your homely face lately. Probably not since you and the kids moved back to the old homestead.”
“It was kind of odd, going back there at first. Now it’s good, the right choice. The kids call it their ‘country house.’ They think they live on a Nebraska farm. Riverdale, right?” Carroll grinned in spite of the hour.
“Wonderful kids. Your sister Mary Katherine’s a gem too.” Trentkamp hesitated a moment. “How are
you
doing?
You ‘re
the one who concerns me.”
“Holding up pretty well. I’m all right. I’m doing fine.” Carroll shrugged.
Walter Trentkamp shook his silver-gray head. His eyes held a knowing look, and Carroll felt tense. The cop part of Walter had a knack of wheedling his way inside you, so that you were left feeling transparent and obvious.
“I don’t think so, Archer.”
“No? Well I’m sorry. I
thought
I was all right.” Carroll felt his lower back clutch and stiffen.
“You’re not so fine. You’re not even in the general ballpark of being fine. The late-night drinking bouts have become legend. Risks you’re taking with your life. Other cops talk too much about you.”
It was the wrong hour for this kind of talk. Carroll bristled. “That all, Father Confessor? That all you wanted to see me about?”
Trentkamp abruptly stopped walking. He laid a hand on Carroll’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I
wanted
to talk to the son of an old friend of mine. I wanted to help if I could.”
Arch Carroll turned his bleary eyes away from those of the FBI director. His face began to redden. “I’m sorry; I guess it
has
been a long day.”
“It’s been a long day. Been a long couple of years for you since Nora. You’re close to being broken out of your unit in the DIA. They like the results, but not your working style. There’s talk about replacing you. Matty Rear-don’s one name I’ve heard.”
Arch Carroll felt his stomach suddenly dropping.
“This action was to be ‘just’ retribution for what they considered broken promises, even
outright fraud
practiced by U.S. banks and the New York brokerage houses.
“At the very least, the oil cartel hoped to initiate a short-term panic, which they alone would be in a position to take advantage of.
Is this rumored scenario related to tonight?
At this moment, I don’t know …
“I have fears, though, that we’re at the beginning of a grave international economic crisis. Gentlemen, it would not be an exaggeration to postulate, to prepare ourselves for the possibility, that the Western economy could effectively collapse on Monday, when the Market will reopen.”
President Kearney’s intensely blue eyes continued to make contact around the crisis table.
“We must find out
who
initiated the attack on Wall Street last night. We have to find out how they did it. We have to find out
why
…”
Chapter 13
ARCH CARROLL’S HEAD was buzzing and his eyes stinging as he filed out of the White House conference room at 2:55 A.M . The other participants were mostly subdued and silent; they looked either somberly reflective, exhausted, or both.
Carroll had already started down a flight of creaking, thickly carpeted south White House stairs, when a hand rested on his shoulder, startling him.
Carroll twisted around to see Walter Trentkamp, impressive as ever at three in the morning.
“Trying to run out on me?” Trentkamp shook his head ill the manner of a father about to chastise his son in the friendliest terms possible. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. Have a minute to talk?”
“Hello, Walter. Sure we can talk. How about going outside? It might clear our heads a little.”
Moments later, Carroll and Trentkamp walked side by side through the early morning mist shrouding Pennsylvania Avenue. The sky was a heavy gray slab covering the capital city. In the distance, the Washington Monument looked like the sword in the stone.
“I haven’t seen enough of your homely face lately. Probably not since you and the kids moved back to the old homestead.”
“It was kind of odd, going back there at first. Now it’s good, the right choice. The kids call it their ‘country house.’ They think they live on a Nebraska farm. Riverdale, right?” Carroll grinned in spite of the hour.
“Wonderful kids. Your sister Mary Katherine’s a gem too.” Trentkamp hesitated a moment. “How are
you
doing?
You ‘re
the one who concerns me.”
“Holding up pretty well. I’m all right. I’m doing fine.” Carroll shrugged.
Walter Trentkamp shook his silver-gray head. His eyes held a knowing look, and Carroll felt tense. The cop part of Walter had a knack of wheedling his way inside you, so that you were left feeling transparent and obvious.
“I don’t think so, Archer.”
“No? Well I’m sorry. I
thought
I was all right.” Carroll felt his lower back clutch and stiffen.
“You’re not so fine. You’re not even in the general ballpark of being fine. The late-night drinking bouts have become legend. Risks you’re taking with your life. Other cops talk too much about you.”
It was the wrong hour for this kind of talk. Carroll bristled. “That all, Father Confessor? That all you wanted to see me about?”
Trentkamp abruptly stopped walking. He laid a hand on Carroll’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I
wanted
to talk to the son of an old friend of mine. I wanted to help if I could.”
Arch Carroll turned his bleary eyes away from those of the FBI director. His face began to redden. “I’m sorry; I guess it
has
been a long day.”
“It’s been a long day. Been a long couple of years for you since Nora. You’re close to being broken out of your unit in the DIA. They like the results, but not your working style. There’s talk about replacing you. Matty Rear-don’s one name I’ve heard.”
Arch Carroll felt his stomach suddenly dropping.
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