pulled back on the controls and pitched the nose of the Antonov up. Cabrillo, hanging from the cable like a pendulum, dropped a few feet and slid past the tail. A few seconds later he was next to the door; Michaels and Pilston grabbed his arms and pulled him inside.
Gunderson started the Antonov climbing, then glanced back into the cargo area.
“Hey, boss,” he yelled, “how was the ride?”
36
MICHAEL Halpert flicked on the computer in the
Today he would need to use all his skills.
Halpert was building what he liked to call a skeleton. A skeleton was a series of corporations forming the bones to support the skull that held the nerve center of an operation. Each would need to be structured, funded and interlinked until the actual source of ownership and control was as cloudy as a London morning.
He scanned a database of available existing companies.
First would come the skull itself—the eventual owner of the assets that would soon be created. For that he chose a corporation based in the tiny country of Andorra. The company, Cataluna Esteme, had been founded in 1972 with the purpose of mining and trading lead.
Andorra, all 181 square miles of territory, is perched in the Pyrenees Mountains, with Spain to the south and France to the north. The population of Andorra is some sixty-five thousand people, and the primary industry is tourism, with an emphasis on snow skiing. The country had been in existence since 1278 and was modern and progressive, plus Halpert had never used it before.
Cataluna Esteme itself had been active in the lead business until 1998, when the aging owner had been felled by heart trouble while on a visit to Paris. Over the next year or so, the assets of the corporation had been distributed to the owner’s heirs, and the company itself had gone dormant. Cataluna Esteme existed in the desk drawer of a lawyer in Andorra’s capital city of Andorra la Vella.
Halpert scanned the history and found it ideal. The company had perfect credit, a past history of large sums passing through the corporation coffers, as well as the shield of privacy offered by Andorran law. The remaining stock in the company was available for the equivalent of $50,000. This sum would give them complete control of a corporation that had existed for over thirty years, had a charter similar to the intended use, and was completely untraceable.
Halpert decided to buy Cataluna Esteme.
For the feet of the skeleton, he used two companies the Corporation already owned. The first was Gizo Properties, based in the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific. The second was Paisen Industries, based in San Marino, a country on the Adriatic coast completely surrounded by Italy. Accessing the companies’ accounts over the computer, Halpert deposited $874,000 in Gizo Properties and $418,000 in Paisen Industries. In the blink of an eye, Halpert had moved $1.292 million into already existing accounts. The money would not remain there long.
Next, Gizo Properties and Paisen Industries, through a special shareholders’ resolution that Halpert drafted and passed, each agreed to buy stock in two more companies. The first was Alcato, based in Lisbon, the second, Tellemedics of Asuncion, Paraguay. Both of these companies were operating concerns—Alcato built specialized marine electronics, Tellemedics made telemetry equipment used in hospitals throughout South America. The Portuguese company had a book value of $3 million U.S.; the Paraguayan, nearly $10 million.
Both had been secretly owned by the Corporation for nearly a decade.
Halpert pulled up the corporate records of both and found sufficient cash reserves for his plan.
With the legs now in place, he looked for the torso.
He would need a recognizable and stable platform that would appeal to the Corporation’s soon-to-be partners. For this he could only use Central Europe. Halpert needed a company based in a country with rock-solid political stability, iron-clad currency and worldwide recognition of financial wherewithal. He scanned his database and found he had three companies to choose from—the first was based in Basel, Switzerland; the second in Luxembourg; the third, which he favored, in Vaduz, Liechtenstein.
Liechtenstein it was.
Albertinian Investments S.A. was a currency-and-gold-trading concern that had proved widely successful since the recent upward move in precious metals prices. The company, secretly controlled by the Corporation, owned a beautiful six-story building in Vaduz, where it occupied the top two stories, had a cash balance in accounts amounting to over $18 million U.S., and frequently invested in other companies that showed promise.
Next, Alcato and Tellemedics passed corporate resolutions making loans of $1.25 million each to Albertinian Investments. These were composed of the monies transferred from Gizo Properties and Paisen Industries, plus some cash from the coffers of each. Albertinian Investments agreed to pay each company 7 percent interest for the loans, as well as an option to convert the loans to stock at a set price for the next five years. The trail of money was becoming cloudier by the minute.
There was now an extra $5 million of washed and clean funds in Albertinian Investments.
Halpert sipped from a glass of iced tea. Then he entered the commands into the computer and Albertinian Investments offered to buy Cataluna Esteme for the $50,000 asking price. The transaction would take several hours for the attorney in Andorra to complete.
Next, Halpert scanned a base of lawyers the Corporation had used in the past in Spain. Finding one in Madrid, he dialed the telephone and waited.
“Carlos the Second, please,” he said in Spanish when the receptionist answered. “Mr. Halpert calling.”
Exactly forty-two seconds later, the lawyer came on the line.
“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Halpert,” the lawyer said. “What can I do for you?”
