Black Friday (or Black Market) - James Patterson [87]
“Never before have we seen such a graphic demonstration of the polarization between Third World and Western hopes and dreams. Here in Hong Kong I believe we are seeing a mini-drama of the imminent future of the world. It is now the day after stock prices have tumbled precipitously everywhere…. The bond market is in shambles; the French and Arabs are liquidating their holdings at literally the rate of billions a day…. And in Hong Kong this morning, many people are deeply concerned, even sad faced But the majority, surprisingly large numbers, mostly university and street gang youths, but also the unemployed—are shouting anti-U.S. slogans, even praying for a shattering Stock Market crash. The people are rooting for a full-scale world economic crash. They’re expecting the worst, and they’re gleeful about the disastrous outcome…. The long awaited fall of the West.”
Chapter 65
SUDDENLY EVERYTHING CHANGED!
Unbelievably.
Almost as if it had all been prearranged, too.
Not forty minutes after the Hong Kong Exchange opened, stock prices on the Hang Seng began to stabilize; then stock prices started to actually rise—to surge upward on the index.
To the disappointment of many of the university students and workers mobbing the streets outside—a dizzying spiral of nearly seventy-five points followed in the next hour.
The exchange in Sydney opened in much the same manner. Grim and hopelessly exhausted brokers at first; highly organized labor and student rallies against capitalism, against the United States in particular—then a burst of excited buying.
The same scenario followed at the late opening exchange in Tokyo.
In Malaysia an hour later.
Everywhere.
Carefully orchestrated chaos.
The manipulator’s manipulation—but to what end?
At 8:30 A.M. New York time, looking as though he’d been liberated from the dustiest carrel in the New York Public Library, Anton Birnbaum peered inside the World Trade Center emergency meeting area. This time, however, a boisterous entourage surged forward and escorted the Financier to the front of the pandemonious room.
President Kearney appeared relaxed, almost jovial as he met the aging mastermind, “vice-president Thomas Elliot was standing beside him, looking controlled and restrained. The Vice-president appeared to be the coolest of the Washington leaders.
Birnbaum himself seemed astonished by the general hubbub, the strange celebration before nine in the morning. He was equally astonished by the way the market, like some whimsical thing subject not to the rules of money but rather the patterns of the wind, had come back so strongly.
“Mr. Birnbaum. Good morning.”
“Yes. Good morning, Mr. President, Mr. Vice-president. And I hear it is a pretty good morning.”
“By God, you did it.”
“By God. Or in spite of Him, Mr. President.”
“This is amazing. It’s quite moving, actually. See?… Real tears.” Caitlin stood hanging lightly onto Carroll’s arm. She finally dabbed at her eyes, and was hardly alone in the gesture.
They were at the heart of the celebration inside the World Trade Center. Off to one side of the room, President Kearney was emotionally clutching his Chief of Staff. The secretaries of Treasury, State and Defense were boyish with their loud whoops, their echoing hand clapping. The gray-suited Chairman of the Federal Reserve danced briefly with the cantankerous Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen bankers so joyous before,” Caitlin said.
“They still dance like bankers though.” Carroll smiled at the odd but affecting scene of relief.
He couldn’t help feeling elation in the midst of this crazy, almost riotous room, though. It wasn’t as if they’d actually found Green Band, but it was something, a sliver of merriment at the heart of the recent grimness, the frustration trailing back for days.
Caitlin nuzzled the side of his face with her mouth. “I’m already getting worried again. I only hope…”
“What do you hope?” Carroll gently held Caitlin’s arm. He felt unbelievably close to her. They had already shared more