"I know."
Sure enough, the old man was not angry, "He came to make trouble, it's okay, I know you are under a lot of pressure."
"Yes, I am going crazy, our family..."
"Stop talking, is it about ten points down?" The old man pointed to the stock machine.
fifty-four…
"Yes, a little more than fifty-three will enter the 15-minute suspension period." Little Bronfman replied.
"Ok."
Soon, the father and son saw that Vivendi Global’s trading ceased and entered a temporary suspension.
"YES! YES!"
In the Avengers’ trading room, papers flew around. Everyone took the opportunity to celebrate. After nearly four days of intense work, the computer screen was stuffed with pizza boxes, instant noodle buckets, paper towels and other sundries. The smell was unpleasant and dirty. Incomparable.
Song Zecheng folded his arms around his chest and looked around calmly, blinking his small eyes behind the lenses.
"Song! Listen!" the muffler suddenly exclaimed.
"Huh? Quiet! It's all quiet!" Song Zecheng seemed to have heard some other sounds, and quickly squeezed down the carnival traders.
Bill Huang and others stopped immediately.
"Wow, wow..." is the sound of a French police car honking.
Everyone rushed to the window immediately, and with their hands and feet, they opened the tight blinds.
Sure enough, there were a few police cars parked on the side of the street. The French police officers got out of the car and surrounded a police officer, and then they were led to rush towards the small building next door.
"Huh..." Bill sighed in relief.
Song Zecheng pondered for a while, "Everyone leave their seats! Lean against the wall! Stand against the wall!" He ordered, "You! Take over Bill's job!"
"What? What?!" Bill Huang saw the old black eyeglasses who had been watching behind him sitting in his seat these days, and began to operate neatly.
Song Zecheng glared at him, "You have violated the agreement! I will report to the boss!" After a confrontation on his mouth, he took the other traders and stood against the wall, obediently afraid to speak.
"For emergencies, I have the right to deal with it urgently." Song Zecheng looked at the clock, "Muffler!"
The silencer began to turn off the computer one by one, unplug the power cord, and bring the old blacks to quickly disassemble the case, take out the hard disk, and pour water directly into it.
An unpleasant burnt smell began to fill the room, and fifteen minutes soon arrived. The glasses old black used Bill Huang’s computer to continue the transaction, "Finish!" A few minutes later, he shouted and raised his hands upright. .
"OMG!"
Bill Huang saw the tall big sun line on the only remaining screen, and knew that the APLUS camp had bought all the stocks to redeem the short order...
"Okay?" Song Zecheng's cell phone kept ringing. He glanced around, and he recognized Julian Robertson's number and stuffed it into his arms without answering.
Bill Huang didn't dare to ask if it was the boss. He had agreed to contact him again during the suspension of trading.
"Okay!" Old Black glasses replied.
"Go! Go! Leave here, someone will take you out of France!" Song Zecheng slapped the trader out of the room, turned off the last computer, and took out the hard drive to the outside network security team.
IT guys are using professional tools to disassemble the hard drives one by one, pry out smooth platters, physically destroy the silencer with a hammer, and then mess them up and pack them into trash bags.
"Well, I'll report it, then goodbye."
When Bill Wong left, he suddenly felt a little disappointed. He looked back at the room where he had been fighting for a long time for the last time. There, he and his partners had done the next big thing, knocking down the company with a market value of 100 billion yuan from the altar.
"There will be some time later, let's go, go through the back door." Song Zecheng shook hands with him, then motioned to the bodyguards to ‘escort’ the group out until they got into the car and disappeared into the bustling traffic of Paris.
"Let's go too, Go! Go! Go!"
He and the muffler group drove to the outskirts of the city, and separated the garbage bags with broken discs to dispose of them.
"Eh!?"
Vivendi Global's stock price rebounded quite a bit after it reopened. The little Bronfman jumped up from his father's side.
Messier chose this opportunity to fight back? His wishful thinking was excluded from the decision-making level, but he was soon disappointed. It is estimated that there are big players who left the market with a profit. After this wave of rebound, the stock price lost support again, and this time it went straight to the limit of 18.75. The thread fell.
"M-FXXK! It's only morning! Messier's trash!"
Before the lower limit, a large amount of money ran away, but Vivendi Global finally ended up with a price limit of 48 euros. He became angry and kicked his chair furiously.
"Calm down, little Edgar," the old father persuaded.
"I'm calm now!" He habitually replied, and immediately reacted, "Father! We have to find a way!"
"I want to find a way, and I want you to come back to find a way." The old man replied.
"Seriously, the market is very irrational. Even if Vivendi conceals a debt of 10 billion euros from us, it should not be worth only 48 billion euros. No, even if you add 10 billion euros? Their fundamentals are not that bad, and I have a better understanding of the situation at Seagram Universal."
The little Bronfman said, the more he felt there was a chance. He became excited and walked around in front of his father, "Isn't this a good opportunity to seal down the bottom? Let's invest some more money, protect the market, and promote the family by the way." The shareholding ratio of Vivendi Global Group will be next Monday... Yes! Next Monday will definitely rebound! We will make a wave of ourselves! Then we will drive Messir out of the board of directors. The timing is right now, and too many shareholders are dissatisfied with him. !"
"It seems that the idea...is good." The old man thought for a while and wanted to answer.
"Right? Father, how much more can we raise?"
He got even more affirmative, "Hey? Are all the Picasso, Monet, and Van Gogh paintings in the house?"
"In..." Old Bronfman recalled, UU reading www. uukanshu.com "In the vault."
"Let me see? Those oil paintings are in good market now! Especially Monet's set of water lilies!" Of course he knew where the safe was at home. "The password hasn't been changed?"
"No, the key!"
"Oh!" He turned around and took the key given by his father, and rushed forward happily, and skillfully opened a hidden secret door first, then smoothly lost the password, and cooperated with the key to open the art vault like a bank vault.
'boom! ’
As soon as the other person's shadow disappeared at the door, the old Bronfman closed the door from the outside. The old man who was still standing firmly out of the wheelchair pressed a few times on the code lock, then rolled his eyes, took the key down and gave it to one of you. Faithful, "I'm going out for a while, don't starve him."
Thanks to book friend Cao Ya for the leader who once again rewarded!
thank you very much!
(End of this chapter)
Chicago 1990 Chapter 1401: King's Landing
"The situation was very urgent at the time. Julian was just a bit close. Song Zecheng said that the French police were probably targeting us, but they just touched the wrong door. We were lucky..."
Afterwards, Song Ya said to Julian Robertson.
"Hehe, this kind of statement is too insulting to the French police... Forget it, the matter is over."
Julian Robertson didn't believe it, but didn't intend to delve into it. His Tiger Fund got too much in this miraculous week, even though he thought he left the market too early and the methods were too rough, which led to the loss of some profits that should have been handed over to Bill Huang’s meticulous operation. "In short, cooperate. Happy APLUS."