Debt of Honor - Tom Clancy [181]
"Sergey and I go way back," Jack explained, taking the glass and toasting his host.
"To the time I had a gun to your head," the Russian observed. Ryan wondered if it were an historical reference…or a toast to the event?
"What?" Cathy asked, almost choking on her drink.
"You never told her?"
"Jesus, Sergey!"
"What are you two talking about?"
"Dr. Ryan, once upon a time your husband and I had a…professional disagreement that ended up with myself holding a pistol in his face. I never told you, Jack, that the gun wasn't loaded."
"Well, I wasn't going anywhere anyway, was I?"
"What are you two talking about? Is this some inside joke?" Cathy demanded.
"Yeah, honey, that's about right. How is Andrey Il'ich doing?"
"He is well. In fact, if you would like to see him, it can be arranged."
Jack nodded. "I'd like that."
"Excuse me, but who exactly are you?"
"Honey," Jack said. "This is Sergey Nikolayevich Golovko, Chairman of the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service."
"KGB? You know each other?"
"Not KGB, madam. We are much smaller now. Your husband and I have been…competitors for years now."
"Okay, and who won?" she asked.
Both men had the same thought, but Golovko said it first: "Both of us, of course. Now, if you will permit, let me introduce you to my wife, Yelena. She is a pediatrician." That was something CIA had never bothered to find out, Jack realized.
He turned to look at the two presidents, enjoying the moment despite being surrounded by newsies. It was the first time he'd actually been to an event like this, but he was sure they weren't always this chummy. Perhaps it was the final release of all that tension, the realization that, yes, Virginia, it really was over. He saw people bringing in yet more champagne. It was pretty good stuff, and he fully intended to have his share of it. CNN would soon tire of the party, but these people would not. All the uniforms, and politicians, and spies, and diplomats. Hell, maybe they would all really be friends.
19—Strike Two
Though the overall timing was fortuitous, the plan for exploiting the chance was exquisite, the product of years of study and modeling and simulation. In fact the operation had already begun when six major commercial banks in Hong Kong started going short on U.S. Treasury bonds. These had been bought a few weeks earlier, part of a complex exchange for yen holdings done as a classic hedge against monetary fluctuations. The banks themselves were about to undergo a trauma—a change in ownership of the very ground upon which they stood—and the two factors made their massive purchases seem an entirely ordinary move to maximize their liquidity and flexibility at the same time. In liquidating the bonds, they were just cashing in, albeit in a large way, on the relative change in values of dollar and yen. They would realize a 17 percent profit from the move, in fact, then buy yen, which, currency experts all over the world were now saying, had reached a hard floor and would soon rebound. Still, two hundred ninety billion dollars of U.S. bonds were on the market briefly, and undervalued at that. They were soon snapped up by European banks. The Hong Kong bankers made the proper electronic entries, and the transaction was concluded. Next they wired the fact to Beijing, uneasily happy to show that they had followed orders and demonstrated obeisance to their soon-to-be political masters. So much the better, all thought, that they had taken a profit on the deal.
In Japan the transaction was noted. Fourteen hours off the local time of New York City, still the world's foremost trading center, it was not terribly unusual for Tokyo traders to work hours usually associated with night watchmen, and in any case the wire services that communicated financial information never ceased transmitting data. It would have surprised some people to learn that the people in the trading offices were very senior indeed, and that a special room had been established on the top floor of a major office building during the last week. Called