Dead Cat Bounce by Nic Bennett Read Free Book Online

work,” he continued.
    “Oh. That’s nice,” replied Franky flatly.
    Jonah couldn’t help himself anymore. “What happened there?”
    “What?” Franky seemed surprised at the question. “That pile-on? Don’t you do that at school?”
    “Kind of,” said Jonah. “But we’re kids. You’re grown-ups.”
    “Ha!” laughed Franky. “Does that make a difference?”
    Jonah tried to picture his father doing something like that. “My dad wouldn’t do that.”
    Franky’s face turned serious. “No. Your dad wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s very somber, isn’t he?”
    Jonah nodded. “But all the grown-ups I know are like that.” He thought of his teachers. Not even Mr. Jagger, his science teacher, would allow a brawl like that, and he was pretty mad.
    “Well,” said Franky, smiling again, “we’re not like that. We’re Whistlers. They’re all Drizzlers.”
    The Baron had also mentioned Whistlers and Drizzlers, but the distinction wasn’t one Jonah had heard previously. “What are Whistlers and Drizzlers?” Jonah asked.
    Franky laughed again. “It’s a Baronism. He says the world is split into two kinds of people. There are the Whistlers, who like to have fun, break the rules, take risks, and if things go bad, they forget about it and move on to something else. And there are the Drizzlers, who complain all the time and stick to the rules and are scared to do anything out of the ordinary because it might go wrong.”
    “But that’s not our style, is it?” boomed a voice. The Baron was back and—though Jonah couldn’t be sure—it looked like his mustache had curled up even more definitively during his brief absence, as if it had been electrified by the excitement in the air.
    Franky grinned at him admiringly. The others acknowledged him with a nod or another small salute.
    “Here on the Prop desk it’s Whistler wonderland! Now let’s go to the Cockpit and get you settled in.”
    Jonah glanced around frantically. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what you mean.” He grimaced, afraid that he was being a thicko.
    The Baron gave a dismissive wave. “Why would you, sonny? We use a whole different language here: Whistlers, Drizzlers, longs, shorts, bulls, bears, dragons, tigers. You’ll pick it up.” The Baron paused. “They didn’t come up with a nickname for you while I was gone, did they?”
    Jonah shook his head. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Birdcage whisper “orchid” under his breath.
    “Good. Glad to see they waited for me to make the big decisions.” The Baron placed his hand on Jonah’s shoulder and led him to the double desk onto which he’d thrown his bag a few minutes earlier. “This here’s my desk, but we call it the Cockpit. It’s the control center for the entire Prop desk.”
    There was that phrase again. Jonah gazed up at the Baron quizzically. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know what a Prop desk is either.”
    The Baron pulled out a chair for Jonah and signaled for him to sit down. “Never apologize, sonny. You’re better than that. And why should you know what I’m talking about anyway?”
    Jonah did as he was instructed, mouthing, “I shouldn’t?” and watched as the Baron took a seat next to him in what appeared to have been a specially designed chair, its contours molded to perfectly fit the Baron’s hefty frame.
    “Damn right, you shouldn’t,” the Baron answered, laughing heartily. “By ‘Prop desk,’ I mean Proprietary Trading Desk. That’s what the Bunker is. We Whistlers trade Hellcat’s money, not client money. It means we’re allowed to take bigger risks than the other traders.”
    Jonah leapt at the mention of bigger risks. “Do you trade derivatives?” he blurted.
    “Derivatives. You’re a bit sharp, aren’t you? But yes, we tradederivatives.” The Baron turned to his troops. “We like derivatives here, don’t we, boys?”
    The whole of the Bunker whistled and yelled excitedly in response.
    Jonah breathed