Dan Carver watched the countryside roll by through the APC’s reinforced glass. Nearly a decade since he’d finished serving, these hills were still a dried-out hell hole. The smoke trailing from the horizon was as likely the result of a terrorist attack as of an accident or industry.
“Did you make that short sell?” Tony asked, leaning over Emma’s desk.
Behind him, screens flashed up figures for the end of the trading day. The Dow was up on yesterday, as were most of the shares Emma had put funds into. This month’s bonus would buy her the trip to the Bahamas she’d been looking forward to.