Chapter 2: The Syndicate Moves

The story I’m about to tell you may or may not be true. After all, I am just a girl babbling under water.


 

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A plan was laid out. He had to revise any time and he knows this. He sat back and for a minute, allowed himself a moment of silence.

Self-confidence is important. You can not undertake a giant task without believeing you could do it. Armani is considered new to this ‘practice’. There were ‘hitmans’
larger and far more experienced than he is but most of them were made to lie low under the new scrutinizing eyes of the SEC. They’re getting tighter now, the taipans are aware, and so they need a relatively new face that can be overlooked.

Arthur started buying shares the next day, very slowly about once or twice a week, carefully not moving the price. He never declared this, ofcourse. It was through different accounts that weren’t named after him.

The process took time, this was the only way they can creep in undetected. After a while, Armani joined the buying but liquidity was forcing an issue.

A stock like this is usually asleep and in tight consolidation for a long time. Do we have sellers? Will they sell enough within the limits of the stock price movement
we need?

Carefully, Armani and Arturo kept buying.


 

One afternoon, Armani picked up the phone and decided it was time he started calling his friends. As days went by, he called in more, and those he called, called in
more of their own.

The process is very selective and the information spread like thick paint on concrete. Only those tight-lipped and patient can get a call, the two most important criteria. Unless they’ve decided to make noise, will the noise appear.

Everything about it is control. Shares must be bought, word must be kept, a foundation must be set for market manipulation. Every one he called had to be invested enough in the situation for them to stay loyal throughout the process because Armani, above all, must remain in command. He must be able to whip the prices up without the original core of buyers abandoning their shares.

A month or two after, Armani made another call.

 

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He needed more help gaining control of the large portion of public shares. They had their first run of parabolic and now the public is jumping ship. It was almost year end. A lot of things had happened, the market turned sour. Every one sold every thing for no good reason, every expert in the field predicted doom. There was no comfort anywhere and no safe haven for even the conservative investors. Armani has not even met the minimum amount of how much Arthur and him had agreed upon so in a desperate attempt, he decided to act.

This was the first time he was going to make dealings with this particular syndicate. He’s heard about them before and was aware of their existence but he didn’t exactly understood what motivated them to stick to one another. He heavily relied on that fact that in the stock market, at the most basic of levels, money talks.

His unfamiliarity with them by itself is a risk, but Armani has a job to be done and for whatever it was worth, it may be worth the try.


 

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Philip and Richard are two self-respecting men in their 30s who grew up quite well. They enjoyed the privileged life sheepishly, a little apologetic but at the same time, unashamed. They were born into it. Ilustrado.

This didn’t make them self-entitled, although at the back of their head, they’re sure of what they could do with their influence if they decided on it.

Philip was a bachelor and Richard was the kind of family man dedicated to his new life. They didn’t live life noisily, they did their own thing. If I were to conclude on how their syndicate was formed, it was because they were in a place where everybody knew everybody and their culture dictated protecting each other.

The Syndicate, for our convenience, we would rather call The Maskara Camorra. I named them this way for personal reasons I’d rather not divulge. They usually move in a group although individual trades are not unheard of, their big fish take-homes are still from a result of their syndicated attacks.

The Maskara Camorra is pretty much a known group. I would be sure that you’ve heard of them atleast once. The people actually in it, though, remains a mystery. The group contains a very tightly-packed highly-selected individuals of about 10 people. Each and every one of them brought something to the table. Either with connections, money, or power. Every person commanded their own following and influence.

These 10 people represented the core of a large movement. Once they’ve decided, they cascade it down to their own number of traders who followed their every word and
advice. The hierarchy inside was clear though, and some of them are more prone into exposing themseves intentionally. This was their play. One or two were the master
strategists (obviously the fulltime traders), a few of them have a slight background on fundamentals, a half of them were the dedicated hypemen (those who have a large
following) but each and everyone were chartists. Their indicators vary from one another, but they all bow down to what their strategists say. I suppose, in the event
of group trading, their individual TA skills are more useful in planning their own exit.

The most important part of it all, however, is how loyal they are to each other and that’s how the syndicate remained solid.


 

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Richard was at the cafe called Benni’s having a cuppa in the middle of the trading day when he got the call. He’s seen Armani around, he’s been in this trade long enough to have met him once or twice in a passing moment. He never really dug into him deeper than that. Only a few nods of acknowledgement and both men moved on.

“I need your help.”, Armani’s voice rang at the end of the line. What help? Richard wondered. “This is highly classified ofcourse.”

But it was a rule, that in such proposals, no one brought up the possible implications. They trusted each other to know what hot water they’re entering if a deal was agreed upon. No one wandered on that area. It was simply… implied. Business is business.

By the end of the phone call, Richard was already in the middle of messaging Philip. In a matter of minutes, the whole Maskara Camorra was notified. The offer was both very attractive and very risky. The only time they’ve ever participated in a jockey play was with one of Camorra’s close associate who owned his own brokerage.

This time is different. Armani is a man they barely knew the background of and he was remains largely untested. He was asking for millions of their own money and
trust. In exchange, a lucrative return of atleast 10,000%.

He took another sip of his coffee, now cold and un-appealing. He barely noticed it. Absorbed with his thoughts, he wondered with grim thoughts, why he never really
took more notice of Armani before.

 

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Armani played it cool. He told Richard as factual as he could with little details of the execution. And as much as he needed help, the last thing he wanted in this art
of negotiation, was making it look like the plan would not work without them.

He knew, however, how much help it would be if he got the Camorra to work with him.


 

Dao likened himself as the underdog of the Camorra. He was relatively new to trading but he became instantly fanatic. He never seemed to slow down ever since. He has the energy of a jack rabbit.

He was a small, slight man who was painfully shy in person and around girls. In trading, however, he was a different person. Confident, loud, and slightly cocky. What
every one in Maskara Camorra understood though, is how Dao is their most skilled hypeman. Constantly, they’ve seen him charm market veterans into teaching and taking
him in, and he’s started a following of his own men with much larger portfolio size than him.

The moment the offer was made, Dao was ready to jump the gun. He was always that way. It was almost like the trading gods treated him differently with whatever bad luck he had from the women he pursued. Well, he thought, he’d rather be rich now.

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The girls will come. Eventually.

 

The equilibrium was disrupted. The whole Maskara Camorra started giving their inputs on the chart. Every one was 50-50. Who was Armani and how good is he with his word? Dao didn’t care. His eyes were on the price. If 10,000% was the price, then that’s what he wanted. He was the first to place his bid.

Next was Richard and then, finally, Philip. In the end, the whole Maskara Camorra have some bit of shares.


 

“My brokers are House 43, House 44, House 45.” Richard messaged Armani.

At the end of the day, they were top buyers, and the stock remained a lovely green on the massacre of red.

“Good”, Armani said. “We’re only just beginning.”


Hello, every one! I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did writing it! I have to write in-between trading and working. I have to pace myself with this though because the next chapter is called Celeste Gets Involved.

I hope you’re all trading well. 3rd liners are flying as we speak, and heh. Between you and me, that’s our favourite, isn’t it?
See you around. 🙂

Forever yours,
Celeste

Something different now but pretty good nonetheless:

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