Chapter 15
Nigel looked around at the war room. Most of the computers were turned off and the lighting was sparse. There was no light coming from the hallway the terminated into the situation room but there was a little bit of light coming from the hallway at the opposite end with all the primary offices and the stairwell that led to the lower offices and the laboratories. There was constant construction on the lower levels as crews tried desperately to tunnel and build more offices downstairs. Nigel seemed like he remembered Number 74.239 wanting to build a large testing arena for vehicles and other equipment but that would require a large access door to the outside world to be built somewhere inconspicuous…he had no idea how that was going to happen.
Nigel shook his head as he walked down the hallway, peering into rooms. He could hear raised voices from down the hall that sounded like the scientists were hard at work again, arguing as usual.
Nigel peered into an illuminated doorway and saw a neat office, decorated by someone who had taken great pains to make it look feminine and classy. The only thing that was out of place was a large amount of paperwork piled on top of the desk in the middle of the room and strewn out among the piles.
Among the piles, elbows on the table, head buried in her hands, tired eyes pouring over the paper work was an exasperated Rachel McKenzie.
"Knock, Knock," Nigel said sternly.
Rachel moved nothing, except for her blue eyes which rolled over to the door way. Though she didn't move, her eyes perked up when she realized it was Nigel.
"Hey Soldier!" she said, "Come in! What's going on?"
"Oh nothing, I was just passing through," He said, walking into the doorway and looking around the office nonchalantly.
Rachel wrinkled her forehead and rolled her eyes around the room, "Passing through from the other side of town? Also, it's a Saturday…why are you "passing through" on a Saturday?"
"Well, there was nothing happening on the other side of town, I thought maybe there was something happening here. It appears I was mistaken."
Rachel smiled weakly, "You were gravely mistaken. The only think lively around here is the choice of scientific classifications that those nerds keep insulting each other with down the hall. Somebody must have broken something for them to be yelling that loud."
Nigel sat down in the chair across from the desk.
"Nigel!" Rachel leaned in towards him and whispered as she straightened up in her chair, "It…is…a…Saturday!"
Nigel raised his eyebrows behind his dark shades, "Your point?"
"Why aren't you out enjoying it? Where is the rest of Sector V? I thought it was your day off." Rachel said waving her arm towards the wall where a window would normally be.
Nigel shrugged and answered with a sarcastic tone, "It IS their day off. They wanted to go to the beach today!"
Rachel reeled, "Today? It's freezing out there."
'Oh, well…" Nigel responded, crossing his arms, "They're taking the S.C.A.M.P.E.R. to Texas. It's only two hours by air and they can be enjoying the beach on the Gulf Coast. They'll be splashing and running, swimming in the sea and getting pinched by dumb crabs! Yuck! I'd rather be working."
Rachel slumped her head back in to her hands and whispered sadly, "That actually sounds like a lot of fun."
"Being at the beach is not fun," Nigel snapped back, "Missions are fun! Splashing around like a stupid baby at the stupid ocean is boring. Nothing exciting ever happened at the beach."
Rachel looked up and smiled, "Well, I know you don't understand, but the beach is fun for normal people, Nigel. So, you don't have anything to do? Where is Lizzie?"
Nigel looked around the room again, "She had some party she's going to at the football frat house. She acted like she wanted to hang out with her friends today."
Rachel squinted at Nigel and turned her head slightly, "She told you it was a party? Or you heard that it was a party from somewhere else?"
Nigel leaned forward a little bit, on edge, "She told me, why?"
"Oh," Rachel shrugged, "No, that's a good thing. See, it's Chad's frat house that is hosting that, like you were saying, but he told me that they were having an open discussion forum study hall and that's why we couldn't go to the aquarium today. He puts me in charge of uncovering the darkest secrets for our organization but doesn't consider that I'm smart enough to figure out what he's doing all the time…or who he really spends all of his time with. I know he's not a bad guy; he just has too many irons in the fire. I'm just saying that I'm glad to hear that you are with someone who is honest, no matter what."
Nigel pursed his lips and was thankful that his shades hid the sadness in his eyes. It seemed hurtful, the way that Chad treated Rachel, but in the end it wasn't really any of his business. He was very grateful that he and Lizzie shared the relationship that they had, it was one built on a long history.
"Anyway," Rachel said, seemingly flustered at how open she had been to him, "You need to get out more. If you work all the time, you'll end up going crazy."
Nigel smiled, "Says the girl, in her office, behind a mountain of paperwork, on a Saturday."
Rachel winced and threw her hands up, "It's a Saturday, Nigel!" She smiled and turned her golden head slightly again; a gleam sparkling in her blue eyes, "But, since you want to work, I'll put you to work. I need help piecing this puzzle together."
Nigel's eyebrows perked up again and he smiled as he stood up, putting his hands on the edge of the desk, "Give it your best shot."
Rachel spun her chair around and put her back to Nigel. She reached up and pointed to the wall behind her where she had posted the portraits of several older men wearing nice suits. All of the pictures looked as though they were taken at random moments and without the knowledge of those in the picture. At various points of the pictures ran red string to other pieces of paperwork and folders which were stapled to the wall and filled with paperwork. It was an intricate network of string that reached out like spider's web, connecting each person with a laundry list of incriminating evidence; some of them were connected and some stood alone.
"These gentlemen on this wall are the people who appear the most in the surveillance files. In fact, there is more footage and documentation of these men than anyone else in the evidence that Number 65.3 archived from your raid at Mr. Frosty."
Nigel nodded and started rubbing his chin as he soaked up the details.
"The ice cream men had pretty extensive details on these people so it wasn't too hard to track them down." She continued, turning slightly towards Nigel, "I will say this though, whoever is at the end of this trail has someone working for them that knows their way around the internet. I'm having trouble getting certain information and if I pry too much in any particular area, my computer gets attacked. I've had Number 71.562 link my laptop up to a grid that keeps it practically invisible but I still have a few viruses slip in and they're bad ones."
Nigel looked up at the ceiling, "Number 71.562?"
Rachel did a double take, "Oh, yeah, he is the scientist with the giant, magnifying lens- like, glasses."
Nigel nodded and smirked as she continued.
"Anyway, What I have learned is that they are all CEO's of pretty large companies. Not just any companies though Nigel, we're talking about monopolies."
She picked up a pencil and started using it as a pointer, pointing at various people in the photos.
"This guy for example is the head of a large pharmaceutical company, this one is in charge of a steel producing empire, this guy makes plastics and has a contract with the armed forces, and this one owns a global bank and the list goes on and on. Some of these companies are national and well known ranging in everything from oil to construction; it's quite odd that such a vast range of people would be spied on…"
She turned slightly to look at Nigel out of the corner of her eye, like a teacher examining the classroom for the correct answer.
"Unless they all have something in common," Nigel perked up, finishing the sentence.
Rachel smiled, "Unless they all have something in common. What that something is, I have no idea."
She turned around completely to face Nigel.
"I have before me all sorts of records from a few of the companies. These records include employee listings, product listings, buildings, licenses, permits, patents, and lists that go on even longer but I have no idea what I'm supposed to be looking for."
Nigel scratched the top of his bald head but said nothing.
"The only thing that I have found that comes even remotely close to being a commonality is the fact that each of these moguls have other companies, not related to their enterprises, listed among their assets and every one of them have a good number of these smaller companies go bankrupt in the last couple of years."
Nigel's ears perked up.
Rachel shook her head slightly, "Don't get too excited though, that's not that uncommon. The economy has been so volatile over the last few years that I almost expect that number to be higher. They aren't companies associated with the breadwinning product that each mogul has a monopoly in, it's only the smaller unrelated companies, probably hobbies that were bought with capital gains. I suspect they are investment properties to earn a little return on the side."
Nigel sat back down in the chair that was across the desk, "Is there any connection among all of the bankrupt properties?"
Rachel shrugged, "Maybe…I was looking over all of that specific info when you walked in. I've only recently pursued that avenue when I realized that there is no other obvious connection that these men have. Truthfully, it's a subjective pursuit at best. I don't think that there is any "hard" connection to these men."
"What's your hypothesis?" Nigel asked, "I'm sure you have one."
"Well," Rachel said, "We need to see what type of companies went bankrupt."
She reached over to the far side of the desk and reached under some papers to retrieve a buried laptop. She turned it on and sifted through some programs as Nigel got up and moved around to the other side of the desk where he could see the screen.
"This is a program that Number 65.3 had worked up so that I could easily sort through the data. He's archived all of the evidence that I have in front of me, plus I have access to all the evidence that was discovered at Mr. Frosty."
She looked up and smiled as she typed, "He sure does make my job easier."
She brought up a screen that had a grid format, listing various names of companies, parent companies and financial figures among other data.
"Here is a list of all the companies that each of these moguls have lost over the past few years. This program filters out the data we don't want to look at so we can get a clearer picture of our options."
Nigel peered over the names and descriptions.
"What did these companies manufacture primarily?" he asked at last.
Rachel typed in some more information.
"Hmm," she said with a small giggle, "It looks like a bunch of junk! Everything ranging from alternative fuels, solar panels, smart car research, wind farms, pro-environment cleaning supplies, you name it and it's probably here somewhere."
Nigel leaned back slightly as he thought for a moment.
"You know," Rachel said at last, tapping her pencil on the desk, "These products are all things that are probably eligible for federal grant money."
Nigel didn't have a chance to comment before she started tapping on the keyboard again, whispering her thoughts under her breath.
Rachel's face beamed like the reflection of the sun, every fiber of her being seemed to irradiate with the joy of the hunt.
"Well," she said turning to Nigel, "What do you know, each of these companies received grants over the last few years. Apparently, they were given the green light for these projects and these projects were the ones that ended up causing the company to go under, probably in every case."
She kept typing more information in as Nigel mused over the facts she had given him.
"Here is another piece of information that is interesting," Number 362 continued, "I kept seeing the name "TALON Capital Industries" appear in a lot of the paperwork. Are you familiar with that company?"
Nigel looked off into the distance, "Aren't they one of those companies that swoops into a failing business and reorganizes it so that it can become profitable again?"
Rachel stopped typing and looked up, "Wow, I'm impressed" she said with a smile.
Nigel smirked, "Well, you can't hang around this place for too long and not pick up a thing or two about what is happening in the world."
"Well," Rachel said, without missing a beat, "that's correct. TALON Capital Industries has caught some bad press lately in the news because people are convinced that they are unfairly making a large amount of money off of this business. I disagree with the hype because I don't think it's a crime to make money, but it is interesting that TALON Capital has handled every case in these files, and they all follow the same pattern."
"Still," Nigel said, "this isn't too uncommon. This kind of thing probably happens every day in this country and these magnates represent national companies so it's not surprising to think that such large corporation would handle these claims."
Rachel looked troubled as she kept tying and trying to get the information she was looking for, "I guess this program still has bugs in it; I keep getting double entries."
Nigel leaned back into look at the screen.
"Ok," Rachel said, "So we have several "green project" companies that have gone bankrupt after receiving grant money, they are reorganized by TALON Capital Industries and…" She paused as a look of shock washed over her face, "…and then bought out later by a different magnate."
"What?" Nigel asked, shocked.
"Wait…Look," Rachel said, pointing to the screen, "I thought I was seeing double entries but I'm not. These rebuilt companies that we have listed are showing up as different companies within the assets of a different magnate. The name and the product line are different but the employee listing, property addresses, and tax information appears to be the same."
Nigel started pacing from around the desk to the other end of the office as Rachel began to piece the network together again.
"So," she started, "We have these entrepreneurs who receive federal grants to manufacture products that they know are doomed to fail from the beginning. Thanks to poor management, eventually these companies go under and when they do TALON Capital rebuilds them, redesigns them, and then sells them to the highest bidder."
"Who just so happens to be one of the magnates in our list who might be across the country but is still somehow able to purchase the company for next to nothing as soon as it's available." Nigel interrupted, "And the process starts all over again."
Rachel was shaking her head, "That's got to be highly illegal."
Nigel turned to face his full attention to the pictures and string on the wall behind Rachel, "Oh, I'm sure that it is. It's like insider trading, but who would pick up on it? The men in these photos have no other connection with each other than their being posted on this wall. No one would see a connection as I'm sure there aren't any obvious correspondences between these CEO's."
Rachel nodded in agreement and looked back at the computer screen, "That sure is an awful lot of money exchanging hands in a short amount of time."
Nigel, hands behind his back, looked up at the web of string running from one photo to the next, file and paperwork pinned strategically in between, "I've never seen anything like this, such a tangled spider's web of corruption."
He sat back down in the chair that sat across from the desk, "Perhaps they are using this scheme to get rich. In this current flailing economy, that is a sure motive indeed for such a gallery of crony CEO's."
Rachel stared at an indiscriminate point in space as the wheel's turned in her blonde haired head, "I don't know Nigel, I'm not convinced."
Nigel peered over the edge of his shades, "How so?"
Rachel tapped the pencil in her hand on the desk in front of her as she pursed her lips and quickly glanced over the papers on her desk.
"There is certainly some large money being made in this economical juggling act, but it's not as much as these CEO's are making legally, through their flagship companies. I don't have all the numbers in front of me, but the profit margin of some of their capital gains alone are enough for several normal lifetimes. Meaning, these CEO's aren't necessarily hurting for money. You said it best earlier though Nigel, they have nothing obviously in common except for the fact that they are posted on this wall. What these guys are doing is highly illegal and they wouldn't risk the crumbling of their empires and jail time for an amount that is significantly lower than what they bring in on their assets alone."
Nigel stood to his feet with a look of horror on his face.
"What?" Rachel said, startled.
"Oh my," Nigel whispered, "Then they are stockbrokers; money men…they're investors."
"Investors," Rachel asked, "What do you mean?"
Nigel began to pace around the room again as he spoke.
"Think about it, they are using this giant "Ponzi" style scheme to make money, but if it's not money they personally need, it is money that they need for a certain goal and they can't risk being tied to it. They've created this network to generate money under the radar, probably being funneled into TALON Capital Industries. There are no apparent connections to alert anyone to the "inside" deals that they are making and they won't be investigated for fraud with any of these bankruptcies."
"Why not?" Rachel asked, intrigued.
"Because they are "green projects". That has been the mantra from our current political leaders for quite some time and to expose these projects' failure would cast a bad light on our current political leaders. The media would never raise a flag." Nigel finished, with a wave of his arm.
Rachel twirled her small hand through her hair as she leaned back in her chair.
"So then," she started, "It would have to be a collective goal. It would be something that did tie them together, something they wanted to accomplish."
"Precisely," Nigel said, "Once we determine that goal, we can figure out how to stop them. In the meantime, these guys are just being used as a glorified ATM."
Rachel spun her chair around to look back at the pictures, musing over the revelation that she and Nigel had uncovered.
"I wonder, why the surveillance?" she asked at length, giving Nigel that same look indicating that she had probably already arrived at the conclusion and was testing Nigel.
"I don't suppose it would be so that our shadowy character and the ice cream men could turn them in to the authorities?" Nigel said dryly.
"No, but "turn them in" might be the right approach," Rachel said with a smile, "If this shadowy, cigar smoking man is behind the surveillance then he is almost certainly using it for nefarious purposes."
"As insurance…" Nigel interrupted.
"Yep," Rachel whispered with a bigger smile, "So, he is almost certainly the one behind this money scheme as well. He's a true mastermind; manipulating these investors and these bankruptcies to bring about this collective goal. He's no doubt keeping tabs on these so-called "stockbrokers" to make sure that they don't get weak knees. They probably hired him, but they don't realize the danger they've put themselves with him surveying everything."
Nigel shook off a chill that was trying to race down his spine.
"Some of these monopolies have been around for generations, what lengths might they go to protect that legacy? What would they collectively try to accomplish to solidify their positions of power? The closer we get to understanding that and the closer we get to finding out what their up to." Rachel said confidently.
Nigel stared at the picture that was on the wall of the cigar smoking man. It was grainy and shadowed because Number 5 had taken it through a cracked ceiling tile, but the likeness was clear. Even through the gritty pixels, Nigel could see the stern expression on the man's face, the cigar smoldering in his hand. Nigel could clearly remember that night, the smell of tobacco in the air and the pace that his heart was racing while he was so close to the villain that had spent the last few hours discussing. Despite the grainy image, the coal black eyes were still haunting.
"What did we find out about our cigar smoking villain; the one that the ice cream men kept referring to as, "Boss"?" Nigel said at last.
Rachel had been gathering up some of the papers into piles and stopped when Nigel broke the silence with such a mysterious question.
Rachel's eyes got wide, "Are you ready for this?"
Nigel could feel the hair on the back of his neck begin to perk up.
"There's nothing…" Rachel said quietly.
"Well, that's to be expected I guess," Nigel said, folding his arms, "His information is probably locked up tight."
"No," Rachel whispered, as if someone outside the office might overhear, "That's not what I mean. I mean, that in all of our searching, there is nothing available. Nigel, I don't know what to think about that. I've honestly tried to focus on the other stuff because it's a little frightening.
Number 71.562 has a facial recognition program that rivals the software used by the FBI. He's also piped it directly into the database of the FBI and Homeland Security so that we can "skim" information from it without being detected. I gave Number 74.239 the picture that Number 5 took to him and he ran it through…twice…and nothing came up.
Nigel, Number 71.562 has even linked us up with some international databases and databases that the CIA alone has access to and that didn't even have any information. This cigar smoking man has no name, address, no driver's license, no Social Security number, and no medical records of any kind…nothing. He is a wraith; a shadow walking among shadows. It frightens me a little to think that we're uncovering this kind of individual, one that doesn't technically exist. How did he get to this point? How do we track him down? What is he capable of doing and getting away with? We know nothing about him. The only reason we even refer to him as "Mr. Boss" is because of those stupid ice cream men."
Number 1 looked at her through his steeled black shades, "We'll find him."
"Well, it's operatives like you that will see to it Nigel, I wish I had that kind of courage. I have to report to Number 274 what we've found so that he can get a mission lined out. I have some ideas on things that we need to investigate, so I'll share those at the next meeting that we have."
Nigel watched as she finished shuffling the papers that were on her desk.
"I'm not doing it today," she said with a smile as she started getting her things around to leave, "I have to run some errands and I don't want to waste all of my time. After all, it's a Saturday!"
