Page 37 of The Atlas Maneuver

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Page 37 of The Atlas Maneuver

Their expressions said the same thing.

We’re not alone.

CHAPTER 22

CATHERINE GRABBED HOLD OF HERSELF.

The day had started off just as any other. A consul meeting. Lunch. A new stash of bitcoin secured. All was good. Even the incident at the Geneva wine vault, though unexpected, had played out well. Message delivered. Sure, the CIA was going to be a problem. The agency would not easily walk away from billions of dollars in bullion that it regarded as its own.

But what could they do?

The bank had exclusively controlled that wealth for a long time with no outside paper trail. Seventy-five years ago, when priorities were different and the world a much larger place, that secrecy had been workable. The Black Eagle Trust had done its job, funneling countless millions of dollars to an assortment of clandestine activities across the globe. Her father and grandfather had been involved with administering the trust and facilitating those expenditures, creating plausible deniability for Washington. And she’d heard the stories. Both the successes and failures. But she’d managed to finally acquire total control and ownership of the gold.

And she’d put it to good use.

Kelly’s betrayal still vexed her. Nothing had been said or occurred between them to indicate that Kelly would take such adrastic step. She was a friend. About as close a friend as Catherine possessed. So what was happening? What had made Kelly do a total about-face? They needed to talk, but she wasn’t ready.

Not yet. But soon.

Lana’s people needed more time with the server. They had to know and understand what they were facing.

She sat comfortably in a bank-owned car, being driven home a little earlier in the day than normal. A guest was expected for dinner, one she hoped would bring good news after the day’s disaster. Another major gathering, long scheduled for tomorrow evening, could not be delayed, no matter what was going wrong. The last thing she needed was to send panic through those they’d worked tirelessly to convince that the new way was the right way. Representatives from Panama, Paraguay, Venezuela, Nicaragua, Brazil, Argentina, and Malta would be in attendance, each of them on the verge of adopting bitcoin as legal tender, following the lead of half a dozen other countries that had already done the same, making it the primary monetary instrument within their respective nations for the settlement of debts and the meeting of fiscal responsibilities.

Just like fiat money now.

Some were also pondering going all the way and adopting bitcoin as their reserve currency, backing their own against it, as had been done with gold or U.S. dollars in the past. Revolutionary things, which the United States opposed.

And for good reason.

People and governments around the world had painfully learned that settling any international transaction in U.S. dollars gave America legal jurisdiction over them. And Washington was not shy about interjecting itself, imposing its mores and laws on people across the globe. She’d heard the same complaint over and over. So if something other than American dollars could be used, something safe and effective, something outside the reach of American regulators, the United States would lose that power.

Like bitcoin.

Which was stateless, apolitical, totally inclusive, non-inflationary,and not subject to any governmental censor. All attractive qualities for an eager entrepreneur or emerging political state. And now, after fifteen years of near-constant development, bitcoin was ready to disrupt the international power structure and hammer the final nail in the coffin of American imperialism. Or at least that was the spin they’d pitched to the 128 undeveloped nations around the world looking for a way to be less dependent.

She was comfortably ensconced in the rear seat, the car equipped with high-speed internet so she could stay in constant communication. She’d sent a text to Kyra Lhota just as she’d entered the vehicle, wanting to know the status of Kelly Austin. An answer appeared on her laptop’s screen.

TOLD THE PACKAGE HAS YET TO BE LOCATED. NOT AT THE HOTEL. IHAVE PEOPLE ACTIVELY WORKING. WILL REPORT WHEN SUCCESS IS ACHIEVED.

Dammit. Nothing seemed to be going right.

Including the weather.

A thunderstorm raged outside and rain poured down as the Mercedes sped out of Luxembourg City. She hoped the storm would not delay her dinner guest.

A car passed them on the left.

Accelerating.

Odd, considering the wet road and limited visibility.

Then it abruptly pulled back into their lane, causing her driver to pump the brakes and slow their speed.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but that car should not have done that.”

She saw more brake lights from the vehicle ahead.


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