“Yes.”
I couldn’t believe it. None of it made any sense. My mind was reeling. “I don’t understand. Why you? How did they know to contact you? Why wouldn’t they call me or go through the office?”
“I suppose because I’ve been making a lot of calls,” he said. “I’ve used some of my contacts to get the word out.”
“Okay, what do they want?”
“Sixty billion,” he replied.
I blinked. “Excuse me.”
“That was pretty much my thoughts as well,” he said.
“What the fuck? What is that about? Sixty billion. Who are these people?”
“According to the man I spoke with, they claim Dad cost them about sixty billion when he dropped out of a deal.”
“What deal?” I asked. I was growing angrier by the second. I didn’t believe it for a second. It was bullshit.
“A luxury high rise in Singapore,” he said.
I combed through my memory banks. “There was nothing like that,” I said.
“According to them, they made a bunch of investments and then he backed out at the last minute. They said they were left holding the bag and lost about sixty billion. They want Dad to compensate them.”
I couldn’t get my head around that. “Dad doesn’t just back out of deals, especially with that kind of money involved. It doesn’t make any sense. How do we verify any of this?”
“Is that really the part you’re hung up on?” he asked.
“I’m just trying to understand it,” I said. “I don’t understand why they’re trying to get that kind of money out of him.”
“Money makes people do some pretty crazy things,” he said. “People kill for money.”
“Did they give you proof of life?” I asked.
“No. Not yet. I’m working on getting more information. I’ve asked for forty-eight hours to make a move.”
“Clark, I’m all over Dad’s accounts. He does not have that kind of money. I don’t know if we could scrape that much together. How long do we have?”
“I wasn’t given a deadline, but I was under the very distinct impression it would be better for Dad if it happened sooner rather than later.”
I rubbed my face. This was what I’d expected, but actually hearing it was the case was totally different. There were expectations and then there was reality.
“Did they tell you how he was doing?” I asked. “Is he hurt?”
“I don’t know, Reese. I don’t know much of anything.”
“Fuck!”
I picked up a paperweight from my desk and threw it at the wall. I was out of my chair and swiping my desk clean with one sweep of my arm. It wasn’t enough. I was still filled with rage. I grabbed a pen holder and tossed it. It hit a framed picture, shattering the glass and knocking it to the floor.
“Are you finished?” Clark asked.
I shot him a dirty look and stalked to the bar to pour myself a glass of whiskey. “Clark, I don’t have sixty billion. The company doesn’t have that much in liquid assets. Even if I did free up some capital, it would take weeks to get that kind of money. What if they don’t keep him alive that long?”
“I know,” he said.
For the first time since he sat down, I saw how stressed he was. He didn’t think we could pull this off either. That was why he was here in person. We were essentially signing our father’s death warrant.