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“We will be landing in Teterboro in twenty minutes, Mr. Peak,” the Gulfstream pilot announces over the intercom system. My boss gets off of me and puts his clothes back on. I am content to lie on the floor for a few more minutes.
As I feel the plane beginning its descent, I decide that maybe now is a good time to get my clothes back on. I take my seat and watch the continuing coverage of the military coup on Odostan.
My boss looks out of the window. I do the same. I see the Empire State Building, Freedom Tower and the Statue of Liberty. These powerful New York structures remind me of Mr. Peak. They are big, brash and defiant.
The Gulfstream glides down onto the runway. The plane taxis to the tarmac and comes to a complete stop in under a minute. I don’t think I could ever get used to such prompt and efficient plane service. I will never fly commercial again!
The doors open and I follow Mr. Peak off of the plane. A fleet of Maybach sedans are waiting for us. Mr. Peak wastes no time getting to the cars. I follow him and get inside the back of the $400,000 sedan.
A minute later we are off to Manhattan. Mr. Peak turns on his iPad and checks the stock market prices. “Oil is exploding!” Mr. Peak booms as the fleet of cars leaves the airport. My boss is so excited that he shows me the price of the commodity.
Indeed, the price of oil is up 7% in pre-market trading. It sounds like the revolt in Odostan is creating some instability in the Eurasian region. That means higher oil and gold prices. My boss gets on the phone and orders his traders to dump half the firm’s position in oil.
The cars race into Manhattan. I am so curious to see my boss’s offices in the Big Apple. I am also curious to know what hotel we will be staying at tonight. Since my boss seems to be in a good mood, I decide to chat him up.
“Mr. Peak. Where do you like to stay when you are in Manhattan?” I ask meekly.
“My townhouse, of course,” he says.
Oh boy! He owns a place in Manhattan! Well, of course he does. He’s a billionaire. What am I thinking. I bet the place is really f**king posh. I can’t wait to see it!
The drivers must be more scared of my boss than of the NYPD because the Maybachs are going way past the posted speed limits. We rush through the streets of Manhattan at about 50 miles an hour.
The cars speed down 57th Avenue. We approach Columbus Circle. The fleet of vehicles pulls up to the huge Time Warner Center. We stop. Mr. Peak gets out. Hey, not a bad place to have a New York office!
My boss is met by several men. By the looks of it, they seem to be employees at my boss’s New York office. I hang back and watch my six-foot, five-inch boss march into the Time Warner Center. Damn, that guy knows how to walk into a building like he owns it!
I take my place right behind my master. A couple of Mr. Peak’s employees look at me oddly. Of course, they don’t know that I am my boss’s favorite pet and his most important covert agent. That’s okay. I love being a mystery to people.
We rush into an elevator. Mr. Peak is given the rundown on the Hedge Fund’s oil and gold trades from a few hours ago. “We are up about two hundred million dollars on the futures contracts,” one of my Mr. Peak’s employees announces.
“Where is oil now?” Mr. Peak asks.
“It is up ten percent. Trading will be halted any minute.”
“Close that trade. Let the gold position run for a little while longer,” my boss orders.
We get off at the forty-second floor. The Peak Fund’s New York office is a buzz of activity. It is much crazier here than in the Santa Monica office. The windows offer a captivating view of Central Park.
Mr. Peak stands in the middle of a bunch of trading stations. Boy, everyone seems scared out of their wits. My guess is that these traders don’t see their billionaire boss that often. “Look alive, gentlemen. There is lots of activity going on in Eurasia. We should be seeing some more spikes in gold until the late morning.”
CNBC and Bloomberg show the revolt in Odostan. I look up and watch as dozens of tanks surround the Presidential Palace belonging to President Molidak. The news alert blasts across the screen. “Odostan Military storms Presidential Palace.”
Mr. Peak orders someone to turn up the volume on the TV. Before my boss can finish his sentence, someone is smart enough to obey the billionaire.
“Reports are now coming in fast and furious. About half an hour ago, troops loyal to Odostan Army Chief General Zhukov stormed the Grand Presidential Palace at Odostan. There are also unconfirmed reports that the dictator President Yuri Molidak is inside the palace, unable to flee. The revolt took place at such lightning speed that no one - loyal to President Molidak - has been able to leave the Palace. Also, the capital city’s airport is also under control from the military. So right now, if President Molidak is in the Presidential Palace, then he has no place to run.”
