1-The Financier

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November 15, 1971

    Walking up the driveway in the fading light of the autumn day my heart was beating out of my chest. Visiting the man rumored to once been head of a mafia was not something I ever thought I'd be doing. Even if the rumors weren't true, in this town someone so wealthy rarely came by that wealth honestly.

    "Are you sure about this?" My friend Sayuri Tsubaki looked as steady on the outside as I hoped I did. I wiped my sweaty palm on my jeans. My other hand held a briefcase that seemed to grow heavier with every step we took. The large mansion designed in the fashion of Spanish architecture cast an ominous feeling shadow we now walked in.

    "We have no other options. You can wait outside the gate if you want."

    "Jack if you're going in there, you're not going alone. Besides it'll be faster with the two of us if he wants a demonstration." She wiggled the heavy bag slung over her right shoulder.          

    "Stop where you are and state your business." A guard from inside the gate challenged us as we came within three feet of the tall wrought iron obstacle.  

    "Jack Sage and Sayuri Tsubaki we have an appointment with Mr. Webb." The man disappeared into a small structure to the side and reappeared with a walkie-talkie and clipboard. He went back and forth with someone for a few seconds describing our appearances and stating our names before clearance was given for us to enter.

    "Go straight to the front door and you'll be escorted to Mr. Webb's study." The sound of the gate closing and sealing us inside made my already frantic heart beat faster. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this nervous.

    Upon reaching the door we found two more guards who gave us each a pat down and swiped a metal detecting wand over our bodies before being allowed any farther. Having passed their tests we were led to a room at the top of the stairs. It was a huge library with a roaring fire just behind the desk of the man we'd come to see. He was smaller than I expected with receding red hair and looked to be about my age. 

    "Please sit." He signed something and then shoved a stack of paperwork to the side. "Jack Sage, 35, single parent of two after divorcing your spouse on the grounds of abandonment. Resides at 1301 Burning Tree Street; convenient as your children attend the middle school just down the road. Sayuri Tsubaki also 35, first generation American with your parents immigrating to the United States in the mid–twenties. No children or any other relatives to speak of in this country. You too reside at 1301 Burning Tree."    

    "Yes that's all correct," I said calmly.  

    "Do either of you smoke? Can I offer you cigarettes or cigars?"   

    I accepted a cigarette while Sayuri declined.

    "You made a very passionate plea to get this audience. What is it that's so great you can offer me that you wouldn't discuss it over the phone?"       

    "We've heard that you like to take bets. Especially ones that are outrageous if you have information that you'll be on the winning side," Sayuri said.

    Mr. Webb lit a cigar and poured himself a drink from a large decanter on the side of his desk. "That's true. My life is so boring those chances are the only things that liven up my days."

    "We wish make a bet, one that's sure to liven your life. When we successfully pull it off we want two hundred thousand dollars." Sayuri tried to conceal her disgust for the cigar but failed. My friend hated smoking and often got on my case to quit the bad habit.

    Mr. Webb snorted. "That's a tidy sum. I've never bet that much on a horse. Just what is it the two of you can do that's worth so much?"

    "We can pull off a successful hijacking of a plane and get away with the ransom money which will also be two hundred thousand dollars." As soon as the words left my mouth Mr. Webb laughed so hard that he had to put down his drink and cigar.

    "You two? There's no way!" His face turned purple and we heard a creak from behind us. Sayuri and I turned to see two guards poke their heads into the room with puzzled expressions. Mr. Webb waved them off and they closed the door. "That's the best laugh I've had in ten years. Thanks for the amusement. You've taken up enough of my time now get-"

    Before the pompous man could finish his sentence I slapped my briefcase down on the desk and opened it. His laughter dropped off sharply as he took in the eight sticks of dynamite wired to a battery and another battery not yet wired. I let him take in the sight before he glanced from me to Sayuri and back again. 

    "Don't worry Mr. Webb. The bomb is a fake but it sure doesn't look like it does it? I fabricated the entire thing. Now if you will please sit down; Jack and I will explain the rest of our plan." Sayuri spoke with sweetness but there was that steel tone with just a bit of threat that had scared the bullies away from her when we were growing up.           

    Mr. Webb sat back in his chair while I closed the briefcase and pulled a set of papers from the front pocket.

    "This," I said with confidence, "will help you see how well thought out our plan is and prove we have the necessary credentials to pull off the heist."

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