William White hadn't enjoyed a relaxed few days when Filson came looking for him again. If it weren't for this guy being so capable and loyal, he would've been shown the door long ago.
"You've got absolutely no awareness, buddy. The Bond Girl is getting some acting tips, and you're just adding to the noise," he said, expressing his frustration.
"Sir, the deterrent power of our aircraft carriers is diminishing. Recently, oil prices are all over the place, practically like sushi prices," Filson said, clearly conflicted. He wasn't an idiot; he couldn't ignore what his boss was busy with. With so many stunning actresses around, who could focus on work?
"Damn it, these jerks. I've figured it out; this is just a thug strategy. Their country is in ruins, so they want the rest of the world to go down with them. If you don't want to fight, try negotiating. But dragging the whole world into this mess? That's going to have consequences," William White declared.
William certainly wasn't trying to sound alarmist. The global stock market crash had roots in America, but the strife in the desert regions had undeniably exacerbated the crisis.
"Yes, sir, the previous oil crises were tough on the major economies. Many are grinding their teeth in anger. If it weren't for fearing the Russians, they probably would've acted long ago," Filson acknowledged, trusting his boss's judgment. However, he was concerned that this time, the stakes were high, and he didn't want to find himself in a tight spot. Those lurking crocodiles in the market would pounce mercilessly at the first sign of weakness.
"Filson, I maintain my earlier judgment. Neither side has the strength to prevail. They've been at it for eight years; no one could possibly achieve a decisive victory."
"Sir, there are reports that the Russians might send a fleet to maintain order. This could be one of the factors causing market fluctuations." Hearing this, William White looked stunned. The Russians were barely hanging on, what with that Star Wars program costing a fortune. How did they still have money to mess around with all this?
"Filson, making war is expensive. Our deficit this year might exceed $600 billion. There's no possibility of reducing our trade deficit. Given our situation, the Russians, who are bleeding out in Afghanistan, are likely doing much worse. If I'm not mistaken, this is just a show of attitude."
Filson meant they shouldn't put all their chips on the table; they had to cut down their positions for the time being. After all, they had repurchased too many stocks recently; they needed to unload some now. He believed that institutional investors would be interested in those stocks.
"Alright, Filson, I'll think it over. Give me two days; I need to gather intelligence on all fronts."
"Sure, there's nothing to worry about in the short term. This interest rate cut is really having a noticeable effect."
"Interest rate cuts? Filson, the entire world is cutting rates. Everyone's helping the U.S. blow bubbles. Even if the stock market is strong, the value of money is tanking," he replied.
"Yes, this is another devaluation following the collapse of the Bretton system. I feel like one hundred bucks today is almost like ten bucks back then."
"Hahaha, if we're talking about basic necessities, that's exactly how it is. Looks like we'll need to consider raises next year."
No boss liked giving raises, and William White was no exception; he wasn't running a charity. Especially the idea of increasing base wages was something every employer loathed.
For a long time, William had tied up talent with stock incentives, but that strategy was likely going to falter now. Once base wages went up, social security and other expenses would inevitably rise, and that was a headache. Not only did he have to think about that, but if the raise was too small, the workers wouldn't even feel it.
...
With things taken care of, William decided to check in with Tanner. Recently, he had gotten a bit complacent and hadn't looked at any reports for a while.
"Tanner, what's going on with the big guy? It seems he's about to crack, right?"
"Yes, sir, our sources say they might launch one last attack. This is a matter of pride; after eight years, if they don't have something to show for it, they'll never be able to go back."
Not have something to show for it? William chuckled to himself, realizing that was probably the reason the big guy was going mad. If he didn't steal a victory next door, he might just crumble himself.
"Filson mentioned the Russians are deploying a fleet. What's the situation there?" Tanner appeared frustrated, as if his boss had been too distracted lately to even check the briefings.
"Sir, they've sent out some old warships. It's questionable whether they can even fight. They seem to be falling apart; this move looks more like a facade," Tanner explained.
"Heh, after fighting in Afghanistan for so long, they're actually collapsing even further. Seems they're losing confidence," William thought. The Russians should be done for; why were they still holding on?
"Morale is low. If they keep this up, it'll be truly embarrassing," Tanner added.
"Alright, I'm getting the picture. Tell the team to be cautious. They're all gone mad; let's not provoke anything at this time."
"Okay, sir. I'll do my best to use outsiders for this."
William found the situation troubling, and things were even worse for the desert tycoons. Insurance companies were no longer willing to help; how could their slow-moving oil tankers withstand an F-14?
The desert tycoons were riddled with fear and panic. They had realized that in case of an emergency, America wouldn't be able to provide help in time. Surprisingly, the only ones who could lend a hand were their fiercest enemies.
What a bitter irony that was. But even if they were facing a national catastrophe, they wouldn't drag the Jews down with them.
...
"Hun, you look really worn out. Have some soup and get some rest; don't keep wearing yourself out. Your health comes first."
"Michelle, you're so sweet. It's just some work trouble, you know the scope of what I'm handling here. But it's all good; it'll be done in a couple of years."
"You sit tight; I'll get the soup for you."
It was all that darn big guy. Didn't he know better? Why not negotiate sooner? He clearly knew the fight was unwinnable, yet still acted so recklessly. Did he even understand how shameless his behavior was? Since he could break the rules, chances were America wouldn't play by the rules either when it came time to teach him a lesson.
*****
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