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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.”
Mr. Peak leans over and looks at one of the trader’s Bloomberg stations. “I want everyone to be prepared to exit the gold position when we hit a five percent profit from the morning buy,” Mr. Peak orders.
Everyone is either looking at their trading stations or at the TV. The CNBC anchor goes back to the scene in Kuva. Another news flash appears on screen. “Unconfirmed Reports: President Molidak Killed.”
“Sell the gold positions,” Mr. Peak obarks. Everyone obeys. My boss walks off of the trading floor. I follow him. A couple of the Hedge Fund’s employees also follow him. We head to an opulent office complete with oriental vases, Picassos, and sculptures that, I am sure, are worth more than most homes.
Mr. Peak lights up a cigar and barks to one of the men, “How much have we made this morning?”
A senior looking employee checks his iPad. “Final trades are now confirmed. The Fund has made a profit of $350 million dollars.”
My boss takes a puff out of his cigar and nods his head. “Good,” he says.
That senior employee looks at me. I can tell he is annoyed. He has no idea who I am. All he knows is that I am overly dressed to be standing in the middle of a Hedge Fund in New York.
Mr. Peak notices that people are staring at me. My boss snaps his fingers and motions for me to come to him. Like a dutiful little pet, I skip over to his side. He doesn’t introduce me to the men. Nor does he even acknowledge me by name. However, the body language is clear. I am the woman close to the biggest alpha male in the room. I am special.
No one stares at me oddly anymore. Mr. Peak barks some more orders before everyone else leaves the room. My boss turns on the TV and continues to monitor the activities in Odostan. I relax my shoulders and catch my breath. As much as I would like to plop myself down on a sofa, I don’t want to risk taking such liberties in my boss’s office.
