13-09-2019, 07:50 AM
They remained exactly where they were. Helen continued her story.
"Ok, so the three of us were in History class and the teacher was playing a game with the class to explain Margin Trading; another culprit. Essentially, getting loans from the bookie to keep playing the ponies. You'll just settle with him out of your winnings at the end of the day. Guess how that day tends to end."
Mander understood. Helen continued.
"So, Julie and I and everyone else are highly interested in all this on-paper 1920s play money we're making when Julie looks over and sees the look on Troy's face. She asks what's wrong because we've been glancing over at him and doing what he does and now he's worried. Troy tells us he knows what's coming because Papa Emay lived through the Great Depression. And he encouraged Troy's interest in money and finance, so he told Troy stories about those days. That meant that Troy knew what the three of us need to do to win.
"A game-week before it all comes tumbling down, Troy raises his hand for the teacher. She walks over; Troy tells her 'The three of us settle our margin loans while we're ahead and invest the profits in Oil because demand for it will only increase throughout the economic disaster you're about to hit us with. We'll weather the Great Depression. And the only thing that fixes an economy that far gone is a war. Which is horrible, but inevitable in the global climate you'll create, so when it happens, we back the Allies and make the REAL money!'"
The big Englishman laughed.
"I'm guessing the game didn't factor in someone like him playing."
"No, it didn't. Totally beyond the rules but she agreed that it would've worked and gave us all the A and Troy got extra credit anyway."
Mander smiled. Helen smiled too as she realized what he'd just done: Taken a load off her by letting her tell a story about the best friends who shared the secret of mind control with her. She gave a tiny nod of thanks before they got back to business.
"We have to hope he's got a plan for it; that he's not just going to start randomly bombing night clubs and casinos." Helena told Mander. "I mean, we train for that. Being a global tourist destination means if you do something stupid in San Finzione, the world sits up and takes notice. Some prick makes a bomb or takes some hostages every couple months. I come and use The Thing and defuse the situation quickly and quietly. Tourists also have money, so muggings happen; and about one in ten tourists is some kind of potential kidnap target. The reason you've never SEEN anyone from our Anti-Terror Unit is because they're even busier than Ultimados and work MORE discreetly! The Ministry of Intelligence has gotten good at spotting the patterns; and because I don't allow incompetents to run my government for me, Caldwell-Pierce, LeGrasse, and Ortega cooperate like grown-ups. For every incident you see on the news, there are twenty that we take care of before they happen, and everyone just enjoys our country none the wiser."
"You never caught Whyte's bomber, did ya? The one who blew up the Ministry of Science. That line about Morgan doing it was obviously bullshit for the media. He was a knife man, not a bomber. He was keeping his head down, being mild-mannered farmer Gareth Finnegan and hoping the world would forget there'd ever been a Frank Morgan. He wouldn't've up and joined the IRA and learned bombs while he was trying to be a good husband and father."
"No, we didn't." Helen agreed, lighting a cigarette and moving over to the couch to sit next to him in front of the photos. "That bomb predates the studio by several months, though. Scott probably didn't even know what a San Finzione was back then." Helen took a drag and pondered. "Might've come from the same crate, though. Long as you're up front about 'There's only 13 in it,' and don't try to pull a burn by putting those on top and filling the rest of the box with Play-Doh, you'd still make something. It's unlikely that Scott wouldn't be so starstruck as to part with some of it as well."
"Maybe it's cursed, like in those shows where there's a cursed gun and we follow the gun as it passes from person to person, destroying lives and always somehow getting lost after so's it can be 'found' by the next doomed soul."
"Or," Helen sighed. "Maybe because Dietz's plan is something to do with the movie, we're all thinking about movies a bit more than we usually do. Don Nessuno knows what I'd do to him for arms-trading or people-smuggling in San Finzione. I can think of a half-dozen small-timers connected, ballsy, or stupid enough to go for it. There are other criminals in the country besides us; they get who's in charge and what happens if they don't play ball too, so it'd have to be worth that risk." She shook her head to clear it. "That still won't lead us to Dietz; project for another time. The people who know how to find and deal with bombs are out looking for bombs now, so let's focus on what WE can do." She turned her attention back to the photos. "Even if all we can do is 'learn what Eliot was thinking about before the end,' it's something."
Mander went back to studying them as well. Because San Finzione Studios was still an "up-and-comer" in the industry, Helen had taken a Hollywood of Yesteryear approach; giving fresh, young talent their first big break. It had also been a boon to the tourism trade as people added "you might get discovered and become a movie star" to their lists of reasons to go to San Finzione. Because of these things, the cast were mostly unknown first timers, and he didn't recognize any of them.
"Dietz has to be well-funded, too." Mander offered. "As gaga as Scott was for the guy, there's no way you let a buncha guys walk off with half your guns and however many bombs without a deposit or something."
"Ok, so the three of us were in History class and the teacher was playing a game with the class to explain Margin Trading; another culprit. Essentially, getting loans from the bookie to keep playing the ponies. You'll just settle with him out of your winnings at the end of the day. Guess how that day tends to end."
Mander understood. Helen continued.
"So, Julie and I and everyone else are highly interested in all this on-paper 1920s play money we're making when Julie looks over and sees the look on Troy's face. She asks what's wrong because we've been glancing over at him and doing what he does and now he's worried. Troy tells us he knows what's coming because Papa Emay lived through the Great Depression. And he encouraged Troy's interest in money and finance, so he told Troy stories about those days. That meant that Troy knew what the three of us need to do to win.
"A game-week before it all comes tumbling down, Troy raises his hand for the teacher. She walks over; Troy tells her 'The three of us settle our margin loans while we're ahead and invest the profits in Oil because demand for it will only increase throughout the economic disaster you're about to hit us with. We'll weather the Great Depression. And the only thing that fixes an economy that far gone is a war. Which is horrible, but inevitable in the global climate you'll create, so when it happens, we back the Allies and make the REAL money!'"
The big Englishman laughed.
"I'm guessing the game didn't factor in someone like him playing."
"No, it didn't. Totally beyond the rules but she agreed that it would've worked and gave us all the A and Troy got extra credit anyway."
Mander smiled. Helen smiled too as she realized what he'd just done: Taken a load off her by letting her tell a story about the best friends who shared the secret of mind control with her. She gave a tiny nod of thanks before they got back to business.
"We have to hope he's got a plan for it; that he's not just going to start randomly bombing night clubs and casinos." Helena told Mander. "I mean, we train for that. Being a global tourist destination means if you do something stupid in San Finzione, the world sits up and takes notice. Some prick makes a bomb or takes some hostages every couple months. I come and use The Thing and defuse the situation quickly and quietly. Tourists also have money, so muggings happen; and about one in ten tourists is some kind of potential kidnap target. The reason you've never SEEN anyone from our Anti-Terror Unit is because they're even busier than Ultimados and work MORE discreetly! The Ministry of Intelligence has gotten good at spotting the patterns; and because I don't allow incompetents to run my government for me, Caldwell-Pierce, LeGrasse, and Ortega cooperate like grown-ups. For every incident you see on the news, there are twenty that we take care of before they happen, and everyone just enjoys our country none the wiser."
"You never caught Whyte's bomber, did ya? The one who blew up the Ministry of Science. That line about Morgan doing it was obviously bullshit for the media. He was a knife man, not a bomber. He was keeping his head down, being mild-mannered farmer Gareth Finnegan and hoping the world would forget there'd ever been a Frank Morgan. He wouldn't've up and joined the IRA and learned bombs while he was trying to be a good husband and father."
"No, we didn't." Helen agreed, lighting a cigarette and moving over to the couch to sit next to him in front of the photos. "That bomb predates the studio by several months, though. Scott probably didn't even know what a San Finzione was back then." Helen took a drag and pondered. "Might've come from the same crate, though. Long as you're up front about 'There's only 13 in it,' and don't try to pull a burn by putting those on top and filling the rest of the box with Play-Doh, you'd still make something. It's unlikely that Scott wouldn't be so starstruck as to part with some of it as well."
"Maybe it's cursed, like in those shows where there's a cursed gun and we follow the gun as it passes from person to person, destroying lives and always somehow getting lost after so's it can be 'found' by the next doomed soul."
"Or," Helen sighed. "Maybe because Dietz's plan is something to do with the movie, we're all thinking about movies a bit more than we usually do. Don Nessuno knows what I'd do to him for arms-trading or people-smuggling in San Finzione. I can think of a half-dozen small-timers connected, ballsy, or stupid enough to go for it. There are other criminals in the country besides us; they get who's in charge and what happens if they don't play ball too, so it'd have to be worth that risk." She shook her head to clear it. "That still won't lead us to Dietz; project for another time. The people who know how to find and deal with bombs are out looking for bombs now, so let's focus on what WE can do." She turned her attention back to the photos. "Even if all we can do is 'learn what Eliot was thinking about before the end,' it's something."
Mander went back to studying them as well. Because San Finzione Studios was still an "up-and-comer" in the industry, Helen had taken a Hollywood of Yesteryear approach; giving fresh, young talent their first big break. It had also been a boon to the tourism trade as people added "you might get discovered and become a movie star" to their lists of reasons to go to San Finzione. Because of these things, the cast were mostly unknown first timers, and he didn't recognize any of them.
"Dietz has to be well-funded, too." Mander offered. "As gaga as Scott was for the guy, there's no way you let a buncha guys walk off with half your guns and however many bombs without a deposit or something."
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