Dyson Development

May 6, 2013

So this will be the last trip ever.  Doubt it.  Once the initial meeting was solidified, there would be free reign in any of the Huangpu territories.  First the close, routine promises of compound interest and dividends for the gangs funds throughout China, then strict control of releases and a long leash.  Donald had always seen things his own way.  The money had become second nature to his drive for personal gain, yet the people he worked with were becoming unimportant in his ever-widening realization of profit.  His jaw tightened as he grasped the cut-glass bottle of whiskey and poured a double.  There was a buzz on the telephone in his mansion office.  ‘The report you requested sir’.  ‘Bring it to me’.  Within seconds the door swung to include a man holding the standard red file folder.  ‘We’ve earned nine million from the Lirocom opening this week and the shares are already up to almost a dollar each’, said the assistant excitedly.  ‘That’s fine’, he said with indignation for a process he had come to master.  ‘Increase the stakes on our Columbian resort and prepare a closeout of the market, now is this every detail of my Shanghai trip’.  ‘Yes sir’ was the reply, and the file folder was set on the desk, labeled with the distinction of Dyson Development.  ‘Nothing further’, said Dyson and he waited for solitude.  Second glass gone, he eased back into the leather chair to contemplate.  So the JingDogs had him set up in the Jin Mao Tower, the third tallest building in the world, where he would no doubt overlook all of Shanghai.  His dealings with them and their briefcase funds would be straight business, and after the close he would visit three destinations.  The Shanghai Ocean Aquarium, where all type of exotic sea-life from around the world are displayed.  He would saunter through with the weight of an old shark.  As a guise for his development firm, he would visit the Urban Planning Exhibition Center, an astounding look at the future of real estate and city construction.  Finally, Yu Yuan in the Old Town near Nanshi might be a place to catch the breeze.  The buzz came unexpectedly.  ‘Sir we have some visitors, in Suburbans and Crown Victorias.  They got past gate security with a warrant.  Doesn’t look good’.  By the end of the evening Donald Dyson was ducked into an FBI SUV in handcuffs.  ‘We’re arresting you on charges of embezzlement, money laundering, and conspiracy with foreign criminals.  Looks like you’re taking your last vacation’.

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