Zero Alternative by Luca Pesaro Read Free Book Online Page B

Micovich was calling, for the third time. He hadn’t talked to the big Serb for over six months, but he could guess what this was about. Finally he answered, stepping away from the desk into an empty office nearby.
    ‘Ugly one, long time no speak.’
    ‘Hi Scott, how goes it?’
    ‘I can’t complain. Enjoying the fireworks today?’
    Mosha grunted, his voice dropping a couple of octaves. ‘We are going to get murdered. Fuck Rossini. Fuck my stupid traders.’
    ‘You in trouble?’
    ‘Yeah, lots of it.’ The Serb paused, clearing his throat. ‘Any chance you might have some Options to sell?’
    ‘What do you think?’
    ‘With a nickname like “Yours”, I expect you’d be well placed for a big market drop.’
    ‘Indeed.’ Walker smiled, remembering dozens of discussions through the years with the hedge-fund manager. They had been at school together – never particularly close but always ready to argue economics or finance – and somehow they had managed to keep in touch throughout their careers. They were often fighting opposing views, Mosha the optimistic bull, Walker the doom-and-gloom bear trader. Still, if the Serb was prepared to pay well for protection, Walker would rather sell it to him than to some unknown grunt at a rival bank. Besides, Mosha had all sorts of weird connections and you never knew…
    ‘How much do you need?’
    Mosha exhaled. ‘Twenty-thousand puts, front month or similar. To start with.’
    ‘I’ll see what I can do. Call Luigi Seu in half-an-hour.’
Screw you, Fontaine
.
    ‘Will do. Thanks, mate.’
    Walker turned off the phone for good and glanced at the time: only three minutes to the Futures reopening. The pre-auction quotes were drifting lower, flickering around 2640 – a little less than seven per cent down on the day for the entire market. He stuck in a few more orders to buy another one-hundred-million-dollars’ worth before glancing at Steph, who had just returned to his own desk.
    ‘What?’
    The young Frenchman looked a bit nervous. ‘A couple of the senior salespeople want to know if you could make prices for their clients. They need to buy puts for protection and everybody knows you have some to sell.’
    Walker shook his head. ‘I believe we still have a Flow desk for that kind of thing, right?’
    ‘Yes. But the guys…’
    ‘Then tell them to fuck off. Politely.’
    Steph bit his pen, nodded and scurried off towards the dozen or so rows of Sales and Structuring, near the floor exit. Walker picked up one of his dealerboard phones, pressed a button and waited while the machine dialled Luigi’s number. Seconds later the Italian’s voice boomed from the handset, excited. ‘Yo, bitch!’
    ‘How did you know it was me?’
    ‘Because I’m the best broker around.’
    Walker laughed. ‘Sure. Listen, Mosha Micovich will be calling you later. I’ll sell him twenty-thousand November puts around the opening print, but then I want you or one of your kids to be on standby for my own orders from nine o’clock onwards. When you hear me or Steph, I expect you guys to drop everything and pick us up.’
    ‘As ever, great Lord. But that level of service…’ Luigi paused expectantly.
    ‘You greedy bastard. Fine, double the usual comm for today, one basis point of notional on my side.’
    ‘Really?’
    Walker bit his tongue, but it was too late. He went through a quick mental calculation to figure out how much extra money he’d just spent. He had doubled the commission owed to the broker, up to one-hundredth of one per cent. It didn’t sound like much, but on a day like this he might easilytrade over one hundred thousand Options. That was close to three billion’s worth – three hundred grand of fees on Dorfmann’s side alone. And Luigi personally got almost half of that in his paycheck.
    ‘Yeah,’ he sighed.
Just forget it, and worry about the big picture
. He could hear the Italian’s smile in his voice as he replied, ‘That’s why I love you.’
    ‘I