Rigged by Ben Mezrich

he waddled away in a swirl of white robes and jiggling limbs. Then Khaled turned back to the magical skyline.
    He only hoped he could live up to his résumé and his uncle’s connections. He was determined to repay his debt tenfold.
    Watching the endless traffic of people, cars, and commerce in the magnificent city down below, he felt a burst of adrenaline. He was staring at what could only be described as the future—not just of the region, but perhaps of mankind as a whole.
    Khaled prayed to Allah that somehow he would be an important part of that future. That somehow he would find a way to make a real difference—for the sheik, for his father, and for himself.

Chapter 10
    S EPTEMBER 16, 2002
    A re you sure about this?”
    David closed his eyes as he pressed his face against the cool glass of the VW Bug’s side window. He could feel the sweat pooling beneath the stiff collar of his Oxford shirt. He placed a hand against his stomach, right where the shooting pains seemed to be coming from—then grimaced as the pain seemed to get worse at his touch. He angrily pulled his hand away, gave Serena a quick peck on her worried cheek, then reached for the door handle.
    “I’m not missing my first board meeting because of a stomachache,” he said as he pushed the door open. An icy breeze swept into the car from the direction of the river, sending a shiver down his spine. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Maybe you’re just nervous,” Serena responded, her hands still on the steering wheel, but he could tell from the way she said it that she didn’t believe it herself. She knew him better than that. Sure, he got nervous, but he was also the most driven guy either of them knew. Nerves had never brought him down before. And nerves couldn’t possibly explain the waves of nausea that were moving up his body.
    Of all the days to get food poisoning, this had to be the worst. It was like some supernatural sick joke. At least Serena had been able to borrow her sister’s car to drive him down to the Merc—or at least as close as they could get to the bright blue police barriers that kept traffic away from the fortified building—so that he didn’t have to take the subway, which would have been a real adventure, considering how rotten he felt. Anyway, there was no way he was going to miss his second day of work. Especially since Giovanni would be there.
    “I’ll survive,” David said, managing a forced smile. He shut the car door and hurried past the police barricades. More pain shot through his stomach as he half-jogged the two blocks to the front entrance of the Merc, but he refused to acknowledge it, refused to let it slow him down. At the very least, he was determined to make it through the morning. He’d reassess the situation after lunch.
    After getting buzzed through the glass revolving doors, David made short work of the security procedures, passing through the twin metal detectors and showing his brand-new work ID to the armed guards stationed outside the lobby elevators. David also had a trading-floor ID pinned to the lapel of his understated, off-the-rack, gray-blue suit jacket, but he hoped he wouldn’t be seeing the trading floor anytime soon. He doubted his upset stomach would be able to handle the chaos at the moment. It was going to be hard enough coming face to face with Gallo again after the episode of the night before.
    Leaning against a corner of the elevator as it rose upward through the building, David went over the scene again in his head. He’d relayed the entire episode to both Serena and his mother after he’d gotten home from work, and neither of them could believe how over the top the guy had been, or how Reston had simply laughed it off—as if that sort of animosity was expected and even condoned. David was glad his father hadn’t been on the phone as well—knowing him, David figured his advice would have involved a baseball bat and an inevitable assault charge.David knew he got most of his