The Prince of Risk A Novel(116)

“Not because of Britium—with Britium’s help. The Empire Platform is the greatest weapon that has ever been invented. Forget the nuclear bomb. Why wipe out a city when we can take over an entire country without anyone’s even knowing it?”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“If you know about Watersmark and Oak Leaf, you already have the answer.”

“It isn’t a coincidence that the China Investment Corporation is on the same floor.”

“No.”

“And you…you’re not Chinese.”

“In fact I am. I wasn’t lying about the Russian ties. My grandfather was Count Radzinsky. He went to Shanghai to escape the purges after the White Russian army was defeated in the revolution. I inherited more of his genes than I would have liked. When it was decided that I would come to America, I had surgery to help things along.”

“Ray Nossey told me that the Empire Platform was invulnerable to hacking.”

“For the most part it is. That’s why we like it so much.”

“But then…”

“How do we manipulate it? Through people like you and your friends at Watersmark and Oak Leaf. You know already that the CIC owns between thirty and forty-five percent of both, as well as several other private equity firms. Enough to exert some control inside the boardroom. Not enough to be visible outside it. We influence Watersmark or Oak Leaf or the others to purchase companies whose products and technology use Britium’s products, especially the Empire Platform. Once we take control of the company, we use our insider status to legitimately gain access to the source code controlling the products. Buying Britium itself was the pièce de résistance.”

“And then?”

Reventlow smiled, as if he’d escaped a simple ploy.

“I take it Mr. Hong is a friend?” said Astor.

“Herbert? A brilliant man. On the record, he works for Watersmark. But each day he goes to work in Britium’s office. Each day he has free, unfettered access to every system using Britium’s technology.”



“Like giving a thief the keys to your house.”

Astor thought about the companies whose annual reports he’d found at Penelope Evans’s home. Between them, they manufactured power plants, communications satellites, missiles used by the navy and air force, and much, much more. He’d been right to suspect that the private equity firms were the common factor, just in a different way than he had imagined.

“The Flash Crash back in July of 2011—was that you?”

“A test to see if our theory was viable. It was. Frighteningly so. We had to scramble to patch things up and cover our tracks. We certainly didn’t want a full-scale meltdown—then.”

“Was Feudal you, too?” Astor was referring to a recent incident involving Feudal Trading, a bank that had lost over $500 million in the course of three hours when it accidentally uploaded a faulty algorithm into its trading software.

“No comment.”

“And now? Why are you getting so desperate?”

“Desperate? Are we? Is that what your father said, or perhaps this Palantir? You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Why the investment in Comstock?”

“This really is a family office. You see, we believe the yuan is going to lose a fair bit of its value, too. If you fail to meet your margin call, we’ll be out a good deal of money.” Reventlow picked up the phone. “Hello, Rajeev. It’s me. Please make the transfer to Comstock. Immediately. Thank you.” He hung up. “Your turn. Call your CFO and instruct her to use the funds to meet the margin calls.”

“If I don’t?”

“You remember that capable man you met yesterday at your father’s home? Blue eyes. Fast as lightning. He’s my youngest brother. He was trained at the Shaolin Temple as a warrior monk. Unfortunately, he enjoyed practicing his skills a little too much. We were able to get him out of the country before the police jailed him. He particularly liked harming young women. You have a daughter, don’t you? Katie, isn’t it? Sixteen years old. A student at the Horace Mann School. Lives at—”

“Hand me the phone.”

“Do as you’re told and everything will turn out fine. The yuan will depreciate. Comstock will make a killing. You’ll be the new Soros. Isn’t that what you want?”



“How do you know the yuan will depreciate?”

“My brother assures me of it.”

Astor nodded, his stomach sick with worry. “Who is your brother?”

“Magnus Lee. The future vice premier of China.”





74




Building Six.

Zero hour.