"Thanks, Brian. Don't worry, I'll avoid crowded places and manage my schedule carefully. Once my business in Zurich is wrapped up, I'll deal with Jett Froby from Alba. He won't last long," William said confidently.
Brian Mills had heard of Jett Froby. Seeing William so assured about taking down a leader of a long-standing, battle-hardened faction, he was surprised by William's confidence. Froby commanded several thousand men who had been fighting for decades. These were not foes to be taken lightly. But to William, eliminating Froby seemed as trivial as dealing with a common thug.
William noticed Brian's skepticism but didn't bother to explain. He had his System, and worst-case scenario, he could spend millions to ensure Froby's downfall.
Moreover, Brian's extensive background as a special agent suggested he'd soon learn of William's recent actions in Montenegro. William had no intention of hiding his exploits there. His goal was to project a powerful deterrent: a man who, in mere minutes, took down 42 mercenaries armed with AKs (the local police reported 43, but one had jumped off a building).
William believed that such a reputation would dissuade small-time adversaries from targeting him. Real-life wasn't like the movies where someone could survive an AK assault unscathed. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could face that many enemies head-on without a plan.
William's methods were far from straightforward. He relied on his mental scanning ability to ambush, set traps, use flashbangs, grenades, and snipe from a distance. Rarely did he engage in direct combat. He wasn't a fool; knowing the risks of getting shot, he used his mental scanning advantage to avoid detection and outmaneuver his enemies.
"Barney and his team are in England protecting my mother, so they can't come. Don't worry; I'll keep a low profile. Besides, we're at the Swiss National Bank, with a heavily armed guard unit stationed just 200 meters away. If anything happens, your main task is to protect Alexander. I can handle myself," William reassured Brian.
Although Brian didn't believe William could truly protect himself, he accepted the situation for now. If a crisis did arise, he decided he'd personally protect William while the rest of his team would guard Alexander. "Alright, boss. But we'll need some better equipment. Just small firearms aren't enough. I'll see if I can get in touch with someone for M4s and body armor."
William waved off the suggestion. "No need. Just tell me what weapons you need. I can get standard issue weapons delivered to you by tomorrow."
This statement caught Brian off guard again. Standard issue weapons weren't easy to procure, especially not in a few hours in Switzerland. He raised his assessment of William's capabilities. No longer could he see him as just a wealthy playboy. Even Barney from the Expendables mentioned William was a noble. Could English nobility still wield such influence and power today?
Curious, Brian asked, "Boss, forgive my curiosity, but do English nobles still have this much clout? I thought most were struggling these days."
William rolled his eyes. He knew that in this world, English nobility were better off than in his previous one. He wouldn't explain to Brian that the true power of English nobility now lay hidden within the government and military apparatuses, and he himself was part of that hidden force.
"Brian, as a former special agent, you have your own channels. Families like ours, existing for hundreds or thousands of years, have even deeper networks. Money can buy anything these days."
"Fair point. That was a stupid question," Brian admitted, slapping his forehead. He continued, "Boss, I need five M4s, M92s, body armor, and a full set of ammunition."
"No problem. They'll be here within a few hours," William said, and quickly texted Bond, requesting not just Brian's list but also two Glock 17s and a fully equipped AWP sniper rifle.
William trusted Bond to handle this favor. They had built a good rapport recently, and Bond still needed William's support with the Security Council after failing to catch Le Chiffre and losing $10 million. Bond's quick response confirmed it, "Got it. Will be there in 5 hours. $150,000, thanks."
"That bastard," William muttered. Bond would pocket at least $70,000. Even the black market wasn't this extortionate. But time was critical. Without weapons, William felt vulnerable, and this amount was small change to him now. His rise had been rapid, and apart from the English intelligence services, he had no one else who could deliver weapons to Switzerland in such a short time.
Felix, standing a few meters away, called out, "Mr. Devonshire, the market is about to open."
William walked over to Alexander, who was intrigued by the bustling trading room. Putting his arm around her waist, he asked, "Understand anything, darling?"
Annoyed, Alexander slapped William's shoulder playfully. "You're so annoying, William. You know I don't understand this. Instead of explaining, you were whispering with Brian. What secrets do you two men have to discuss?"
William laughed heartily. "Security matters, darling. You wouldn't understand even if I explained. I just don't want any mistakes this time. In a few days, you'll understand what I'm doing."
"Mr. Devonshire, the market is open. The Nasdaq is at 5003 points. Do you want to buy?" Felix shouted.
William pondered. He remembered that after the Nasdaq hit 5000 points, it quickly surged to 5030 before oscillating around that level, eventually reaching an all-time high of 5048 on the 7th. Today was the perfect opportunity to test the waters. "Buy, $3.5 billion long position, 5% margin."
"Understood."
Ten people started frantically typing on their computers. Half an hour later, they had completed the transaction. The Nasdaq had risen to 5007 points. In such a bullish market, finding counterparties for such a large bet was only possible because they were trading through the National Bank.
Felix handed William the transaction report. "Mr. Devonshire, the $3.5 billion is all in, at a 5% margin rate, with an average entry point of 5005."
William looked over the freshly printed report and did a quick mental calculation. "So, I've bought 5,594 futures contracts. With the Nasdaq priced at $250 per point, every point increase nets me nearly $1.4 million."
"Exactly, Mr. Devonshire. A 5% margin amplifies your funds 20 times, so each point gain is $1.3985 million," Felix confirmed.
Alexander, standing beside William, was shocked to hear that he had leveraged $70 billion and that each point movement could mean a gain or loss of $1.4 million. She clutched his arm tightly, her face tense with anxiety.
"Don't worry," William began, but was interrupted by a trader's excited shout, "It's up 2 points! Now at 5009! Wait, it's up another point!"
William laughed. "See? It's up 5 points already. We've made $7 million. I told you, there's nothing to worry about. I never take risks I can't handle."
Alexander, still anxious, looked at the large screen displaying the live market data. "But, darling, what if it drops? Oh God, this is so nerve-wracking. Please, let it keep rising. God, protect us."
William burst into laughter at the sight of Alexander praying nervously.
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