Thursday, November 10, 2011

Chapter Forty-Eight

Hamilton, Bermuda

Walters looked at his iPhone.  “Closing postponed until tomorrow.  Same time.”
The Germans were nervous.
Who could blame them? he thought.  The entire continent is on fire, financially, and the only ones who can bail them out are the Germans
The irony was delicious.  The same continent that feared German boots now begged for their backing.
His intermediary assured him the deal would go through.  The terms were too favorable to the massive German reinsurance company -- all but guaranteeing them double-digit returns on their investment. 
Walters didn't care how much they made.  His return on investment was infinite.  The thought brought a smile to his face.
“Fuck it,” he said aloud to no one.  He used his desktop guillotine and sliced the end off a hand rolled Cuban.

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