A Birthday Present - 002

Three months later we were having dinner at Richard's home. He lived about a half mile down the road from Nathan's on 15 acres with a small pond and a bonafide log home. It was beautiful, peaceful and restful. It was late August and there was definitely an autumn feel in the air. We sat around a wooden table on the deck, overlooking the pond.

A lot had happened in that 3 months. I had decided to retire. I had more than enough time with the company. My investments had done well, I was vested in the company retirement, and I had bought every stock option I was offered. I didn't need to work, but it filled the hours. I had something now to fill the time.

Just a few weeks ago, several things had happened with Chelsea. Her psychiatrist had called to tell me that Chelsea had a major breakthrough. Later, the psychiatrist told me that Chelsea suddenly seemed much more like her old self. She talked openly about her experiences discussing her emotions and reactions in the whorehouse. That she seemed to understand my emotions and feelings had surprised the psychiatrist to some degree, but he attributed it to a healthy acceptance of the realities of the situation.

A few days later I got a call from the hospital chief administrator, asking that I come to the rehab center. He was polite and professional. I assumed that there was some problem with the health insurance or some other administrative affair. When I got to the hospital, I was immediately taken to a small conference room and left alone for a short while. When the door finally opened, the CEO, the COO, the Chief Medical Officer, and another man walked in. I was introduced to the last man as Arthur Deponce, the hospital company attorney. I was immediately put on guard.

It was explained to me that the facility security people had discovered some rather unsettling happenings in the hospital. The CEO and the COO were uncomfortable, and the attorney took over the narrative. Over the course of the next forty-five minutes, I heard a sordid tale. It seemed that one of the night orderlies, a rather vigorous and healthy young man and my wife had engaged in sexual relations on several occasions. On the last occasion, the man had supplied a generous amount of cocaine and Chelsea had returned the favor by engaging in rather vigorous sex with three other men that the orderly had admitted through a maintenance door at the back of the facility. When he had finished, we all sat there in silence looking at one another. I decided to wait until they made the first move. Surprisingly it was the attorney who broke the silence.

"Me. Holloway, the hospital sincerely regrets that this situation occurred. We do try to vet out employees carefully, but no system is perfect. The employee in question has been terminated and we have revamped our security procedures to ensure that nothing like this happens again."

I looked at him, not ready yet to respond. The CEO spoke next.

"Mr. Holloway. I know you have questions and probably some rants as well."

I looked at him carefully then at the attorney.

"Have you notified the police and the state hospital board?"

All of them looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Ugh. No. We thought it better not to bring your wife's activities to light."

"What you thought was you needed to cover your own ass. If you don't report it by tomorrow morning, I will. I will also have an attorney ready to petition the court for full access to your security records. If anything happens to any of those recordings, it will be as good as saying you destroyed them to cover your own ass. I want this guy charged with rape. If you don't pursue the charges I will and each of you and this company will be complacent and charged as accessories. I also intend to notify my insurance carrier about the situation and your actions. I will request their recommendations for a new treatment facility for my wife and will have her moved ASAP. You might also notify your staff psychiatrist that has been treating my wife that the medical licensing board will get a full report and that, on the recommendation of my attorney, he can expect a very expensive malpractice suit."

I didn't say another word but simply rose and walked out of the room. I did go down the hall to Chelsea's room. She was, as usual, laying on the bed rolled onto her side with her back to the door. I didn't go in. I left and never looked back.

&&&&&

Our meeting went as usual. The first couple of meetings we spent laying out our plan and getting the basics in order, getting to know each other, and strategizing about this whole operation. I discovered that the other three men had been busy before I came on board, and they had accumulated a tremendous amount of intel about our targets.

Richard had tapped back into some of his Navy contacts. He had managed to locate Tig and his gang. They were still in Mexico, apparently living the high life at one of the small seaside villages close to several of the resorts. They were running some small scams against the tourists with the help of one of the local cartels. Richard had accumulated a nice thick portfolio on the entire group including histories, legal backgrounds, and some photos. Every one of those involved had a lengthy rap sheet and several were wanted on local warrants for various felony offenses.

Ben and Aubrey had been busy as well. Between them, they had found 8 different server sites that they believed were the source of the subscription porn sites that Tig was using to deliver the videos. It had taken weeks since all the servers were offshore, hidden behind a screen of VPNs and other security devices. Once Aubrey had identified the server sites, Ben had gone to work and now had 5 of the 8 server sites hacked, unlocked and ready.

I had been working with both of them in the last few weeks to identify how the cash was flowing into their system and how it was distributed back to Tig. It was a tedious affair, but we were close to zeroing in on how the money was distributed back to Tig. Most of it came to him through a variety of banks of questionable repute located in some small countries in Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean. We were discussing the best way to handle this part of the plan at this very meeting. Richard was asking questions. I was providing answers.

"When we get ready, how do we grab all this cash?"

"The easiest way will be to initiate a series of wire transfers to our own illicit bank accounts."

"But how will we do that? Doesn't it take a password or something to initiate a transfer?"

"It does. I'll let Aubry and Ben tackle that."

Ben looked at Aubrey and began to explain the situation.

"I have been watching several of these accounts. These banks don't pay a lot of attention to cyber security. Of the 18 accounts that we know about in 5 different banks, I have been able to capture the username and password for the accounts. Currently, those 18 accounts hold more than 12 million dollars. That amount is decreasing on a daily basis as Tig funds their stay in Mexico."

I looked at Ben somewhat amazed.

"Do you have any idea how many accounts there are?"

"Not really. Yet. I am working backwards from the banks to get access to Tig's computer. I am almost sure he is using a laptop with a satellite uplink to do business. Once I find that computer and get access, I think we will have everything we need to wipe him out. That should lead us to all of his accounts. The bank accounts will lead us to all the porn servers. I think I will have it all in another month."

Richard nodded approvingly and then looked at me.

"How do we get this money back into the states and to the people where it needs to be?"

I had anticipated this very question and had a ready answer.

"We don't"

Richard looked at me questioningly.

"Why not?"

"If we bring that much money back into the states, it is going to trigger all kinds of red flags and interest from the IRS, the banking people, maybe even the FBI. Our whole banking system in the US is nothing but a funnel for information back to the Feds. I can almost guarantee that if you bank with one of the big corporate banks, the IRS is getting regular feedback on your spending patterns. In addition, any transfer of money larger than $10,000 has to be reported."

"Then what do we do?"

"We keep it offshore. We keep it out of sight of the Feds and put it into our own system where we can divide the spoils and then arrange for our group to have access to the funds in a safe way. There are several ways I can think of to do it. We will need a shell company hiding behind some holding companies and in countries where the laws are geared to just that sort of thing. Tig figured it out."

Richard smiled.

"That's why we have you. Start getting everything arranged. When Aubrey and Ben are ready, we will spring this trap."

The trap that Richard spoke of had several different tactical scenarios. We would take down the server sites in such a way that it would be almost impossible for them to recover anything. Ben assured us that he could install software that, when triggered, would cause every hard drive in the system to be utterly data wiped. He also promised that their internet addresses would be compromised and almost impossible to recover. Aubrey echoed those sentiments with his knowledge that once he and Ben were done with that part of the plan, whoever was running the systems would be required to start from scratch. They had also wanted us to allow them to add what Ben called a nuclear option. The nuclear option would capture the user lists from every site and then systematically begin to deliver online search and destroy software to the users. I had argued against that option. If the chaos got too widespread it would trigger attention from some government agencies that I was sure we didn't want to deal with, such as the NSA and the CIA. After some discussion, that option was put away.

With the monetary attack being finalized and the destruction of the server sites, that left only Tig and his little cartel to deal with. Richard wasn't too keen on discussing details of that part of the plan. He made it clear that there was a risk of collateral fall out and that it would be better if none of us were involved in that part of the operation. He assured us that it would be thorough, devastating, and final. I had reminded him of my request to be involved and he had tried to talk me out of the idea once more. I remained insistent and finally agreed.

We spent the balance of that evening socializing. It was relaxing and pleasurable. The men I was with were diverse in their political and social views, but our shared woes and miseries made us a tight group.

&&&&&

As I worked on my part of the plan, I was also occupied with seeing to it that Chelsea was taken care of. I had contacted my attorney, the DA, the local sheriff's department, and my insurance carrier. They all seemed very interested in my story. In the following weeks, things began to get interesting. My attorney has begun filing several lawsuits. He wasn't as optimistic as I was about seeing any results, but at least the media was taking notice. When the DA filed charges against the orderly who had instigated the events, things really took a turn.

The orderly rolled over almost instantly when interrogated and implicated several other employees at the facility including one of the Security staff who had, apparently, tampered with the security system to make the whole thing easier to manage. There were charges of drug possession, some with intent to distribute, among other felony charges. The medical facility was getting its eyes blacked for sure. When the DA subpoenaed the video surveillance tapes, the company that owned the facility immediately filed for a Chapter 11 bankruptcy in light of the soon to occur inspection and audit by the state regulators that oversaw the facility.

I wasn't too worried about all that. I had made arrangements to transfer Chelsea to another facility in a city about 75 miles away. It had an excellent reputation, and I was pleased with what I found after I met with the administrators and the staff, especially the psychiatrist. I was satisfied that Chelsea was in a better place and getting quality care once again.

I contacted Abe and John. I wanted to discuss with them my side of the plan. They both had extensive experience in overseas banking, especially in third world countries. We met in Abe's townhouse in New York City. It was exactly what you would expect from a diamond merchant with a long family history in the business. We sat comfortably sipping a fine brandy as I explained my views on the financial side of the plan. John listened carefully and then looked at Abe.

"It sounds awfully complicated with all the wire transfers, setting up accounts, and managing getting money to people. Have you ever heard the story of PepsiCo and Russia?"

I admitted I hadn't.

"Many years ago, PepsiCo scored a concession from the Russian government, which was at the time still the USSR, to sell PepsiCo products in Russian. It was a huge market and would deliver millions, if not billions of rubles into the accounts of PepsiCo. Apparently Kruschev loved Pepsi. The executives of Pepsi were all too willing to do business with the communist party. It eventually came down to a monopoly on soda pop in the USSR for Pepsi.

The main problem was getting paid. The Ruble was not traded internationally so Pepsi had no way to gather the huge windfall that was piling up in Russian until some bright boy in the Kremlin came up with a plan to pay Pepsi in vodka rather than Rubles. Pepsi became the sole importer of real Russian vodka. They made billions until the whole thing fell apart with the Berlin wall."

"So how does that affect us?"

"Imported goods, unlike cash, don't get nearly the scrutiny from the Feds. What we need is to find something that is easily tradeable, in demand, and comes from one of these small countries."

I suddenly saw the light. We could translate all that cash into some sort of commodity that we could easily sell in the US. I would expose the transactions to US taxes, but in the end, it was a small fee to pay to have all that money in a US bank legally. Abe broke in and offered one more idea after a few questions.

"How much money are we talking about?"

"In the neighborhood of 60 million dollars."

Abe's eyes lit up.

"Why trust one of the established offshore banks? They can be as risky as dealing with some of the governments. Why not set up our own bank, fund it, and then manage it. In the right country it could be not only much simpler but might become profitable in and of itself."

I was listening, enthralled. Apparently these two were quite familiar with ways to move and handle large amounts of money without raising suspicions. Jim continued.

"Take Botswana. The country is an up-and-coming player. They have one of the most stable governments in all of Africa. The country is rapidly developing infrastructure and education. There is growing speculation that Botswana is sitting on huge deposits of several rare earth minerals that are becoming highly sought after. The government actively supports and encourages foreign investment, and they have one of the most liberal agendas in Africa."

If we chartered a bank in Botswana and started a rare earth mineral brokerage, we could translate the money into rare earth minerals. The market is huge, and we could then sell those minerals and redeposit the gains in our bank. Each of our families get a share in the bank holdings which would then begin to pay some handsome dividends. They will have to pay the taxes on the funds if they bring it back into the States. We could suggest that they move it to somewhere like Switzerland where they could use the funds through that banking system for whatever they wanted. We would take a small cut to cover overhead and expenses."

I knew enough about international banking to see some glitches in this simplistic plan. But on the whole, it seemed like a workable deal. We spent the rest of the evening and much of the night laying out a detailed plan of action. We were well on our way to being international financiers and bankers.

&&&&&

We were seven months into this operation. I was sitting in Nathan's watching Richard tend bar. The crowd was good and the DJ was playing a mix of 70s classic rock. I was anticipating one of Nathan's roadhouse hamburgers when Ben took the stool next to me. Richard came down the bar with a beer, set it on the counter top. Ben swigged the beer and then looked at the two of us.

"We are in. I got into Tig's computer."

Richard looked amazed.

"How the hell did you do that."

"It took a hefty chunk of money from Abe. One of my old hacker buddies happens to be living just up the coast from where Tig and his bunch are hanging out. I managed to insert a trojan into Tig's computer. It fucked things up royally. My guy started running ads in all the little coastal towns advertising quick and reliable computer repair. Sure enough, Tig made the call and my guy had that laptop in his shop within a week.

I gave him the codes to restore the computer. He installed some tracking software, GPS location software and a very sophisticated keylogger that gives me a backdoor into that computer anytime it is logged into the internet. If Tig has the computer, we have Tig.

We all toasted to the success. I looked at Richard.

"Where is Aubrey?"

Richard smiled.

"He is doing a little security work for me. Tig's brother is back in New York City. I am not sure yet where he is or what he is doing, but I would bet my money that he is scouting a location to set up their operation. Once we pick him up again, we will get a lot more intel."

I looked a little concerned.

"I hope we can put the brakes on this thing before anyone else falls victim."

RIchard looked suddenly serious.

"That is the plan."

&&&&&

Two weeks later, I got a call from Richard inviting me to come spend a couple of days at his place. I had nothing better to do and he seemed pretty insistent. I packed a bag and drove toward Nathan's. Richard saw me come in, retrieved the bottle of Macallan single malt scotch from under the backbar and set a glass on the counter before I could sit down.

"It didn't take you long to get here."

"I would have been here sooner if I knew you had started stocking Macallan's."

He grinned and opened a beer for himself.

"What's up?"

"Wait until Aubrey and Ben get here."

"Then order me a hamburger. I am starving."

An hour later we were sitting in Richard's office. Richard looked at Ben.

"Ok. What did you get?"

"We are going to need to move the timetable up. I intercepted an email to Tig from his brother. They have rented a huge warehouse in the Bronx and are getting ready to move everyone back to the states. Tig's Dad and their software guy are already here getting things set up and starting the advertising."

RIchard looked a little surprised.

"What prompted this, do we know?"

"Yeah. It seems that subscriptions on the website's have been falling off. The managers of the websites are wanting fresh material and fast."

Richard looked at me.

"How fast can you be ready?"

"Abe and John have the bank charter in hand. We are waiting on the business licenses to set up the brokerage. Once we get the physical operation running and the computers in operation, we can handle the money side. We have time to deal with the money laundering that needs to happen."

"How long?"

"Two weeks. But we need some computer help."

Richard looked at Aubrey.

"Can you handle that?"

"Banking systems are not my stock in trade, but I suppose I can cobble together something that will work. I'll need to go to Botswana. Do we have anyone there I can work with?"