"Well, get him in communication."
"There is no cause for alarm, Mr. Walton." He continued calmly. "Noda-san has made sure that our dealers' exposure in Treasuries is covered by the futures contracts DNI has acquired. Japanese investors are sheltered from price fluctuations. Noda-san is most grateful for your—"
"Listen carefully," I said. "Fuck Noda."
I hung up.
The rest of the morning I just sat there and watched the market crater. After bond futures prices on the Chicago exchanges had sunk the daily limit, as far as they could drop in a single session, the action merely moved elsewhere. A cash market developed off-exchange worldwide and was going crazy, with spot quotes nose-diving. Prices now were only rumors, but the satellite services were still trying to track them. At exactly 12:37 P.M. the President finally got around to issuing an Executive Order suspending all trading at the exchanges in government bills, notes, and bonds, including futures contracts, until further notice. It turned out to have been about as effective as Prohibition. Besides, by that time I figured Noda had already cleared at least fifty billion.
Enough. I couldn't watch anymore. All of a sudden I felt like a guy who'd bailed out of his flaming F-16 only to see it total a schoolhouse. I kicked off the computer, slipped on a suede jacket, and headed for Bleecker Street to fortify myself with mussels marinara and a stiff Bloody Mary. The early Post at the corner newsstand proclaimed with characteristic understatement the imminent passing of the civilized world.
Over cappuccino I finally started to think rationally. Nothing anybody was saying added up to a full picture. There had to be more, or less, to the story. . . .
Then the truth glimmered before my eyes, yet another transcendental moment. What Noda was planning was obvious. At last I realized why he'd hired me. Like a great chess player, he could see about ten moves ahead. The question now was no longer what his next move would be. It was when.
You want to win World War III with a quick blitzkrieg, knock America to its knees? Simple. Go for the blind side. First you short a piece of the debt market, then for fun you dump the currency in advance (since it's just naturally gonna go the way of the peso when you make your opening move, and you might as well squeeze the orange if it's just lying there anyway). Next you kick things off by giving everybody the impression you're divesting all Treasury paper, which causes the dollar to predictably plummet….
Christ! What about Amy's currency hedge! Three weeks ago I'd contracted to sell the banks of New York ten million dollars she didn't own. In all the pandemonium, I'd completely forgotten.