Chapter 91: The Russians Have Finally Made Their Move

Peace now seemed all but impossible. The festive atmosphere of Christmas had barely faded when the Russians made their move. They didn’t call it a war—just a “military stroll.” Expectations and reality are never quite the same; many believed it was mere intimidation, never imagining the Russians would actually take action.

In this era, the idea of expanding by force is laughable, a relic of Cold War thinking. Everyone’s just probing each other—no one expects real fighting. Yet the Russians’ sudden aggression sent shockwaves through global opinion. There are plenty of countries that can’t match your military, but wiping out nations on a whim is intolerable. If such behavior became routine, world war would be inevitable.

Afghanistan offered little resistance—not for lack of will, but simply because they couldn’t. The most excited parties were the Hunt family; at long last, the day they’d waited for had arrived. Gold prices were clearly out of control, and from the look of things, another doubling seemed almost effortless.

They were ecstatic, but the Federal Reserve saw the Hunts as nothing but troublemakers. Suddenly, mainstream media launched a collective crusade against silver speculators, and the regulatory commission stepped in. The Hunt family became the target of widespread condemnation.

With the current trajectory, not only would margin requirements be increased, but trading restrictions would be imposed on certain accounts. When no one’s watching, you can play your tricks, but strictly speaking, such maneuvers are fraudulent.

America has no shortage of unreasonable institutions; the Securities and Exchange Commission is certainly one of them. They can declare guilt on a whim, and without solid evidence, you’re at their mercy. At least it wasn’t stocks, or things would’ve been worse. American futures trading has always suffered from systemic issues—the Hunts merely exploited loopholes.

If you don’t plan to negotiate with the authorities, it’s best to behave; otherwise, you’ll suffer for it. Clearly, there’s plenty of behind-the-scenes maneuvering in all this. William White’s status isn’t high enough—this is a chessboard he cannot access.

In short, the Hunts were doomed. Even their allies were powerless; the Silver Group suffered heavy losses. The current deadlock is mere appearance—it won’t affect the larger outcome. Now the question is how things will end. If the Hunts try to renege, so will the others. If silver collapses, a slew of banks will go under.

For the Hunt family, disaster was only beginning. White Petroleum applied for suspension again, as the White family was seeking to sell off the company entirely. For a controlling shareholder with fifty percent ownership, the opinions of other shareholders hardly mattered.

The timing was impeccable. The Hunts were scrambling for funds, preparing for one last desperate attempt. Either way, their shares in White Petroleum were hopeless—no bank wanted to take them on. There are countless tricks in the securities market; the Hunts’ marginalization was inevitable. Who knew how much value would remain in the end?

“Uncle Ford, any offers?” William White asked, smiling, clearly in good spirits.

“A number of companies have inquired. Shell and Texas Oil seem quite sincere,” Ford replied.

Though he didn’t understand why the young master wanted to sell White Petroleum, Ford didn’t ask further.

“Uncle Ford, oil prices are high now. Let’s sell sooner rather than later—I don’t care for this industry,” William said.

So that was that—his reasoning was simple and strong: he had no interest in oil. William White didn’t lack money, and everyone knew it. Making money was child’s play for the White heir; digging oil was rough work, best left to those who enjoyed it.

Their arrogance was no exaggeration. Mention White Pictures, and Hollywood studios winced. They’d been battered into questioning their own existence—a Christmas-themed movie remained wildly popular even after the holiday, beloved by children and pursued by young adults alike. It was absurd.

Most astonishing of all, it was a series. Barring unforeseen circumstances, it would rake in profits again next year. After just two films, he’d become a giant, and even United Artists paled in comparison.

Hollywood’s greatest asset may be intellectual property, but other factors matter too. White Pictures had no loans and a lean staff. The crew’s high earnings were tied to box office results.

Now that he planned to abandon the oil industry, a full shift into entertainment seemed inevitable—and with no financial pressure, this interpretation was hardly surprising.

Yet these observers were naïve. Entering the entertainment business didn’t require much capital; White Pictures had no investment plans for its earnings. There was no need for William’s own money.

The eighties were about to dawn, and the most lucrative investment destination was Japan. Whether in securities or real estate, profits were all but guaranteed.

The exchange rate hovered around 250 dollars; after the Plaza Accord, it would climb to under one hundred. Beyond the appreciation of stocks and real estate, the currency alone would yield twice the profit.

But it wasn’t just the exchange rate—property and stocks surged, doubling again and again.

To miss such an opportunity for “shearing sheep” would be unconscionable. 1980 was the launch point for Coca-Cola; from the start of the year, it was time to begin slow accumulation.

Forget high-tech—none of it matched Coca-Cola’s gains. IT’s boom would come with the internet bubble, which was still years away; the internet was confined to labs, with public access nowhere in sight.

Investing in Coca-Cola didn’t require much capital; its market value was modest, though investing too heavily could cause trouble.

Japan, however, was different—a developed economy where any amount could be invested, but timing was crucial. Wait too long, and problems would arise.

Wall Street’s old hands weren’t fools, unwilling to carry others’ water. When the web of interests thickened, complications would multiply.

The so-called Plaza Accord was America banding together to rob Japan. Not only did America know it, but Japan understood as well.

Japan played the victim, rubbed raw by Uncle Sam. They saw it as paying protection money, never imagining America’s animosity ran so deep. If not for Japan’s unique constitution, it might have been fatal.

Before the Plaza Accord, talk of the “Japanese threat” was rampant, even likened by some to an economic Pearl Harbor. Japan was frightened into agreeing to all of America’s unfair demands.

Once the sheep’s wool was stripped, America no longer spoke of threats, instead calling Japan an indispensable ally.

The money extracted from Japan exceeded a trillion dollars—not something any individual or faction could monopolize.

William White wasn’t ready to risk it all; he’d rather quietly make money than stand out. Laying groundwork in advance was the best strategy.

With luck, he wouldn’t have to pay exorbitant protection fees.

As the Russians launched their offensive, the capital markets echoed with wails. Precious metals futures went mad, while the broader industry saw steep declines.

The oil sector was less affected. Tensions drove oil prices up—not as wildly as gold, but enough to support current stock prices. In this light, White Petroleum could still fetch a decent price.

With superpowers playing the bully, the international community was powerless. America managed only a symbolic protest, after which the matter faded away.