a small child on a pushbike.
“Oh well, this makes all the difference. I’ll have him here at eight thirty instead.” Priest ignored the remark. “I thought you said you knew where the boy was,” said Vain.
“I do. He’s in New York,” Priest offered lamely.
“And how did you find out he’s here? You must have had more than this piece of toilet paper to know that much.”
“I found the photograph in an old house in Utah. When I touched it his name came to me and the fact that he’s in New York City–somewhere. I also know he is in danger, the enemy is drawing near.”
“I guess I should go now, unless there’re any more pearls of wisdom you wish to impart.”
“I really don’t think I like you Dark Man,” murmured Priest sadly. “You spit in the face of everything I hold dear.”
“Not many people do like me black man.” Vain grinned venomously, moving from the room. “Especially not those who meet me in person.”
Without a word of farewell, Vain stalked from Chapel and disappeared.
Chapter Six: Squirrel
Gary O'Rourke had been a big shot. Fast cars, fast women, fast money. Every night was a party at Gary’s house and he had loved life.
Quickly becoming one of the shooting stars on Wall Street, Gary developed into one of the youngest executives in his firm’s history. Seemingly incomparable when it came to predicting market changes, he had amassed a small fortune in only a few short years. Gary began to make riskier and riskier purchases on the stock exchange, netting ever larger profits. Along with his success came arrogance.
He felt invincible.
Everyone marveled at his successes. How could such a young man do so well in the market? Either he had excellent inside knowledge or fantastically good luck. As it turned out, he had a bit of both. Gary had informants placed all over the city in almost every major industrial company, granting him access to knowledge other people couldn’t even begin to touch. All of this was highly illegal of course, but Gary believed laws were made for poor people and not high rollers like himself.
After all, he was untouchable.
One day, Gary received information that had made even his mouth water. Global Technologies were going to merge with Pastrel Industries, creating possibly the most expensive amalgamation in history. Gary’s hand shook on the keyboard when he read the E-mail. Quickly checking the stock tickers on the internet, he almost passed out from excitement. Both companies’ stocks were breeching all time lows–he could blitz the market!
The following day, Gary had poured his entire personal savings–along with quite a bit of money belonging to his clients–into the shares of both companies, walking away at the end of the day envisioning the riches he would amass in the coming weeks.
Unfortunately, shooting stars must all eventually burn out, especially those that burn the brightest.
The news never came.
Weeks turned to months and the stocks continued to drop, but Gary refused to sell, determined that the union could still occur and he would recover any losses he’d incurred.
The merger never came. The golden boy lost his sheen. A business partner who had followed Gary’s lead leapt off a building. Gary leapt into a bottle.
The years passed and the alcohol haze grew thicker in Gary’s mind. He woke up one day in the gutter of an alleyway and smelled himself. The stench alone made him want to retch, but he didn’t have the energy to roll over, so he simply closed his eyes and waited for the end.
Voices awakened him from his death slumber a short while later and their words jolted his curiosity. Two men were talking about something that sounded vaguely familiar, and Gary listened on.
“For God’s sake man, listen to reason. I couldn’t have squealed on the Bucelli family. I wasn’t even there when the last shipment came in, I didn’t even know about it!”
Bucelli. Where had he heard that name? The sodden gears of his
“Oh well, this makes all the difference. I’ll have him here at eight thirty instead.” Priest ignored the remark. “I thought you said you knew where the boy was,” said Vain.
“I do. He’s in New York,” Priest offered lamely.
“And how did you find out he’s here? You must have had more than this piece of toilet paper to know that much.”
“I found the photograph in an old house in Utah. When I touched it his name came to me and the fact that he’s in New York City–somewhere. I also know he is in danger, the enemy is drawing near.”
“I guess I should go now, unless there’re any more pearls of wisdom you wish to impart.”
“I really don’t think I like you Dark Man,” murmured Priest sadly. “You spit in the face of everything I hold dear.”
“Not many people do like me black man.” Vain grinned venomously, moving from the room. “Especially not those who meet me in person.”
Without a word of farewell, Vain stalked from Chapel and disappeared.
Chapter Six: Squirrel
Gary O'Rourke had been a big shot. Fast cars, fast women, fast money. Every night was a party at Gary’s house and he had loved life.
Quickly becoming one of the shooting stars on Wall Street, Gary developed into one of the youngest executives in his firm’s history. Seemingly incomparable when it came to predicting market changes, he had amassed a small fortune in only a few short years. Gary began to make riskier and riskier purchases on the stock exchange, netting ever larger profits. Along with his success came arrogance.
He felt invincible.
Everyone marveled at his successes. How could such a young man do so well in the market? Either he had excellent inside knowledge or fantastically good luck. As it turned out, he had a bit of both. Gary had informants placed all over the city in almost every major industrial company, granting him access to knowledge other people couldn’t even begin to touch. All of this was highly illegal of course, but Gary believed laws were made for poor people and not high rollers like himself.
After all, he was untouchable.
One day, Gary received information that had made even his mouth water. Global Technologies were going to merge with Pastrel Industries, creating possibly the most expensive amalgamation in history. Gary’s hand shook on the keyboard when he read the E-mail. Quickly checking the stock tickers on the internet, he almost passed out from excitement. Both companies’ stocks were breeching all time lows–he could blitz the market!
The following day, Gary had poured his entire personal savings–along with quite a bit of money belonging to his clients–into the shares of both companies, walking away at the end of the day envisioning the riches he would amass in the coming weeks.
Unfortunately, shooting stars must all eventually burn out, especially those that burn the brightest.
The news never came.
Weeks turned to months and the stocks continued to drop, but Gary refused to sell, determined that the union could still occur and he would recover any losses he’d incurred.
The merger never came. The golden boy lost his sheen. A business partner who had followed Gary’s lead leapt off a building. Gary leapt into a bottle.
The years passed and the alcohol haze grew thicker in Gary’s mind. He woke up one day in the gutter of an alleyway and smelled himself. The stench alone made him want to retch, but he didn’t have the energy to roll over, so he simply closed his eyes and waited for the end.
Voices awakened him from his death slumber a short while later and their words jolted his curiosity. Two men were talking about something that sounded vaguely familiar, and Gary listened on.
“For God’s sake man, listen to reason. I couldn’t have squealed on the Bucelli family. I wasn’t even there when the last shipment came in, I didn’t even know about it!”
Bucelli. Where had he heard that name? The sodden gears of his
Similar Books
