The First Billion

Hi, kids! Surprised to hear from me again so soon? Don't be. News this sizzling pops right out of the pan and into your laps. Don't thank me. Thank our sponsors at Black Jet Securities. Last week, we showed you a pretty pic of Mercury Broadband's Moscow network operations facilities. Très déclassé, n'est-ce pas? This week, we go a step further. Your Private Eye-PO has come into possession of documents proving once and for all that Mercury is nothing but a hairy little scam dog with mucho fleas.

The Private Eye-PO went on to claim that Mercury Broadband had not purchased sufficient Cisco routers to service its two million business and residential customers in Central and Eastern Europe. (Routers formed what was known as the "IP backbone" and were basically sophisticated machines that channeled digital messages to the proper addresses.) As proof, he contrasted a footnoted item in the Mercury offering prospectus with a copy of an internal accounting document from Cisco Systems, the giant manufacturer of Internet operating equipment. Whereas the prospectus claimed that Mercury had purchased over three million dollars' worth of equipment from Cisco in the last year alone (and even listed the products: the 12000 series Gigabit Switch Router, the 7500 series router, and the MC 3810 multiservice access convertor), Cisco's internal "customer revenue summary" showed cumulative sales to Mercury during the period 1999-2002 totaling just $212,000.

The missive ended with an unusually brazen sign-off.

Shocked, loyal readers? Not as much as the hotshots at Black Jet, I'll bet. Or are they in the know? Here's a quick lesson, Mr. Gavallan: No routers, no customers. No customers, no moolah! Remember, it's never too late to ix-nay the deal, Jett. You've done it before at the last minute- and for less of a reason. Will your pride permit you to do it again? Or is the going price for honesty two billion smackers these days? Hey, all you lowlifes in San Francisco, can you say "due diligence"? Better yet, can you say "class action"? See you in court, Jett!

"Class action, my ass," spat Gavallan, chewing the inside of his lip, fighting to control the fount of anger welling inside him. "I toured their network operations centers in Kiev, Prague, and St. Petersburg. Their facilities are top of the line. They've got a dozen engineers on payroll in Geneva laying out plans for the new expansion grid. He's got it all wr-" Aware that his words were sounding more like an excuse than an explanation, he cut himself off. "This is bad, Tony."

Llewellyn-Davies crossed his arms, nodding. "Indeed. Do we just ignore this too? I mean we can't, can we? This is the second time in two weeks he's come after us. First Moscow, now this. Hasn't that chum of yours found him yet? The Internet detective, what?"

"No, not yet," said Gavallan, wanting to add that he was hardly a chum. Two days earlier, he'd contacted a man rumored to be the best in the business at what he did- namely, track down thieves and criminals who trafficked hidden inside the web- and provided him with the Private Eye-PO's web address along with instructions that he needed him found within seventy-two hours. "Found" meant a name, address, and telephone number. A price was given: a fifty-thousand-dollar retainer to be wired to an account in the Cayman Islands, and fifty thousand more should the deadline be met.

Llewellyn-Davies printed out the accounting document and handed it over. "Ask me, it looks shoddy enough to be real. Still, these days you can't tell. Any two-bit con artist could run up a copy of Cisco letterhead."

"But why would he?" asked Gavallan, happy to have someone else defending Mercury for once. "Tell me that and I'll tell you if the documents are real or phony."

"Ah! The million-dollar question," declared Llewellyn-Davies. "First answer's obvious: Chap wants to push down demand so he can scoop up some shares himself. Hold 'em or flip 'em, it's all the same. He knows Mercury's a golden goose and he wants to make some dough."

"If it were anyone else, I might agree. But this guy's reputation's too good. He's no pump-and-dump artist. And Mercury's no penny stock. Last few tech IPOs out of the gate he's called to within ten percent of their first day's close. The guy's a sharpshooter."

"The question remains, why is he taking aim at us?" Llewellyn-Davies pursed his lips and put a finger to his chin, and Gavallan noticed that his skin had taken on a peculiar yellowish cast. He couldn't help thinking the man looked even thinner than usual.

"I suggest we call Cisco right away," Llewellyn-Davies went on. "Tell them we're double-checking, engaging in a round of last-minute due diligence." Rising to his feet, he picked up Gavallan's phone and dialed 9 for the main operator. "Let's see if there's anything to this."

An astonished voice bellowed across the room. "Put that fuckin' phone down, Two Names."