Double Dealing

Scott is a master of the universe at a Manhattan venture capital firm.

He has the requisite nerves of steel and the connections to be a serious player. What he lacks is the big score, the deal that will put his name on the map. And time is ticking down. In the wake of the Wall Street crash of ’08, his mentor, Jordan Holstein, has been forced out, and Scott’s been passed over for partner. It won’t be long before he’s out on the street himself. His home life isn’t much better.

Then redemption arrives in the form of a techno geek Stanford undergrad with a $500 million dollar idea.

All Scott has to do is catch a flight to San Francisco and get the kid to sign on the dotted line. But before he can do that, international corporate powers, motivated as much by nationalistic fervor as by the bottom line, intervene, and Scott finds himself fleeing capture in the Sierra Nevadas. Over the course of this fast-paced novel, Scott’s life, and those of his friends, family, and colleagues are put at risk and changed inalterably.

Double Dealing is a thrilling story of high finance and international intrigue that will keep you up late, rapt until the last page.

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When Scott arrived at his building there was a police scene, with ambulances and yellow police tape. He tried to rush in, but was stopped by a cop until he explained who he was. Entering the building, he saw Joe wheeled past on a gurney. He wore an oxygen mask, and seemed barely conscious. The paramedic explained that Joe had been shot in the chest. Joe saw Scott and swiped his oxygen mask off “The FBI came, but it was Jack,” he said.

They wheeled Joe away.  Scott continued into the lobby and saw the doorman dead on the floor, surrounded by police. They looked up and stared at him. “Did anyone check 8C?” Scott asked. They looked at each other and shook their heads no.

The ride up the elevator was interminably slow. Scott’s heart was racing, and he was both relieved and annoyed to discover his door was locked. He barged in but no one was there. The kitchen chair was turned over, with dishes and food on the floor. “Oh my God, he got them, he got them.”  Scott ran down the eight flights of stairs, but slowed down in the lobby so as not to draw attention.

Once outside, he started to hail a cab, but saw that traffic was terrible and set out on foot. He ran flat out from 84th and Park to the Plaza at 59th and 5th, slowing only to avoid getting hit by cars along the way. His adrenalin was pumping, but he didn’t feel winded. He tried to keep from panicking, without success. He’d had little sleep, his family was missing, Joe had been shot and might even be dead by now.

He calmed himself enough to talk his way into Kor-Engineering’s New York headquarters without an appointment. He stopped a block from the entrance, to tuck in his shirt and run a comb through his hair. He tried to be casual as he entered the building. The guard recognized him, but appeared concerned that Scott wasn’t on the guest list. Scott mentioned he was there with Broderick, who was already upstairs, and walked into the open elevator. The guard let the elevator doors close with Scott inside, but quickly picked up the phone to give notice upstairs.

The elevator doors opened, and the receptionist motioned for Scott to take a seat. He walked past her down the row of conference rooms, and stepped into the one with several figures visible through the tinted glass. He’d guessed right. They were all there, chatting over coffee. Dr. Park and Mr. Kim, Broderick, and Jack.

Jack immediately stepped aside, separating himself from the crowd. Scott could go right at him now without anyone being in the way. And he did. Scott rushed him, drawing his right fist back, ready for a huge swing–the same swing Mark had thrown the day before, but with more power.

Jack was ready. Feet planted, he turned deftly sideways, raising both hands to catch Scott’s arm. And just when he had the arm and was ready to send Scott hurtling forward, he realized Scott had stopped. He looked down and saw that Scott’s right foot had stopped short and his left knee was coming straight up into Jack’s defenseless ribs.

Scott’s knee hit him right in the solar plexus. Jack felt a few ribs crack as the air left his lungs in a huge whoosh. He was thrown backwards, head slamming into the marble wall. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Ignoring Broderick, Scott turned to the Koreans and bowed slightly. “Please excuse my intrusion and bad manners. However, I believe you’ll find Jack carries a gun that has recently been fired, and that his bullets match the ones found in the dead doorman of my building and my college roommate Joe, who was shot in the chest. Unfortunately, Joe may be dead by now, but he identified Jack to me after he was shot. There could be no mistake. I wanted to come here first to warn you, so you would have the opportunity to turn him over to the police yourselves and avoid involvement with this unfortunate incident.

In addition, I am missing my wife and two children. Is there any chance Jack brought them here, or you know where they are?”