The New World Banking System: The Invention of the Microchip

By D. Morgan

Determined to be successful by any means necessary, Shawn becomes intruded by the world banking system, mastering bank-scamming techniques. He developed a small empire of fraud scandals never seen in the city of New York. Meeting Crystal while on one of his scamming adventures, they become like Bonnie and Clyde. Together, they form a major corporation called Quick PAA. Now in the corporate world, he meets a powerful senator whose son is a CEO bank executive. A secret meeting is called by an ex–government official who brings the nation’s top ten bank executives to one table, taking over the financial system, eliminating plastic credit and debit cards, using microchips that are inserted in the consumer’s hand, forming a system never seen before—the New World Banking System!

Feds try to create a case with information given to them by a close friend of Shawn, which leads some elite higher-up wanting the data system codes of the NWBS. The only thing is Shawn is the only one with access to the codes. With the New World Banking System in order, family members are kidnapped, betrayal is at its highest level, and trillions of dollars are at stake, causing murder and mayhem.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543460827

D. Morgan

After leaving school at sixteen he started work as an apprentice boiler maker in Cardiff docks ship-building. He then went on to become a structural steel site manager. He has had many prestigious jobs throughout his career such as building various steel structures, stadiums, bridges, Heathrow T5 and the Olympic project. He is also a qualified diving instructor with the British Sub Aqua Club, and both his hobby and his work have taken him abroad to many countries around the world. He enjoys reading and especially books that have action and adventure. When working in Malaysia in 1999 he started writing a book one evening while sitting in the Awana Kijal lounge. He kept picking it up and putting it down. After a couple of years he decided at last to finish it. He enjoyed writing it immensely and hopes that people enjoy reading it.

Book preview

Prologue

Good evening, everyone, Mark greeted them. Now that everyone is here, I need all of you to follow me, he added, walking toward the door he disappeared through last time.

Following Mark through the secret door, they walked down a long hallway, entered another door, and went down some steps. And before them was something out of this world. Before them was something like a Wall Street Center and a science laboratory put together. Over fifty television screens with stocks banking and other economic transactions throughout the financial system. There were ten office suites with top of the line equipment overlooking the whole facility. But what was flabbergasting were some of the screens showed live activity somewhere.

Welcome to the New World Banking System headquarters, Mark stated with pride.

This facility is equipped with every technology ever invented and more. There are some stuff not even the CIA has. As you can see above, there are ten office suites. These will be your new offices. The monitors have access to not only the nations’ stocks and bank transactions but also satellite cameras zooming into almost 90 percent of the world’s activity. Mark walked to where there was a meeting table similar to the one they met at the first time.

Please, everyone, take a seat so we can began our meeting, he said, sitting at the head of the table.

Shawn was speechless. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing right now. This was something out of a movie, but he was here, so reality it was.

So far, we’re in the process of finishing things up. I want to thank everyone for participating in giving Mr. Morgan complete access to their data systems.

Mark pulled out a remote and pressed a button. He turned the middle of the table into a large computer screen. After he slid a chip in the side of the remote, everything on the chip popped up on the screen.

It’s a touch screen, so everyone can move things around, ask questions, or add input. Mark moved some things on the screen. These are all consumer profiles, accounts opened and closed, and public records. NWBS now controls 65 percent of the credit bureau system as well. If you look to the right, you can see how many consumers we have and how much funds we control.

Is—

One moment, Mark said, stopping one of the CEOs from speaking. Everyone can ask questions after I explain the data system.

We have control over two billion accounts and have over $80 trillion in money assets. Mark paused, letting the numbers sink in their heads. Also, we will be able to add all the credit bureau consumers to our system.

Are there any questions now? he said, looking at Ben Ackman, who had tried to ask a question earlier.

Yes, how will consumers access their accounts if everything’s been transferred to our new system? Ackman asked.

Good question. I’m sure everyone was thinking this. That’s why I had you give Mr. Morgan the codes to your data systems. All that data has been transferred over to this program system in front of us here. He pointed to the table screen.

From here on out, all your consumers will be accessing the New World Banking System. But your logos will remain the same until we take over completely, using our NWBS logo, Mark stated.

Everyone nodded, understanding the new process. Now, I want to introduce you to something bigger than you’ve ever seen before, he said, looking for something on the screen. This here. He pointed to the screen, which was showing a diagram of a human hand with some type of electronic chip inside of it.

Once we are completely done broadcasting the New World Banking System, instead of using modern-day plastic credit and debit cards, we’ll put Micro chips in all the consumers’ hands, allowing them to use their accounts everywhere. No more lost cards, identity theft or fraud, and most importantly, we control merchant sales with our new black box, where instead of swiping a card, the customer can wave their hand over our new system, activating the Micro chip in the hand. And voilà! Purchase approved.

Shawn sat there in disbelief. The New World Banking System was bigger than he knew. This was a new world order takeover, and with the way things were going, it had to be more.

While you let that digest into your brain, let me show you the satellite surveillance of multiple cities. Here you can see Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Boston, Paris, and other major cities in live action. With this technology, we could take over the world. Oh, I almost forgot to show you the surveillance of the premises we’re on now, Mark said, pulling up footage of the building they were in and where their choppers and jets were parked and the inside the facility, now known as the NWBS headquarters.

And when you press this button here—

Boom! FBI! yelled over forty federal agents raiding the NWBS building.

Shawn looked on in shock; he couldn’t believe what was happening. There were federal agents everywhere. Everyone in the facility were stuck in their seats. If they wanted to move, they couldn’t, from fear of being in federal penitentiary.

Mark seemed to be the only person unfazed by the raid. He smiled, like he knew something no one else knew.

Chapter 1

DAMN! Here comes this rent-a-cop, thought Shawn as he watched the Pathmark security guard walk toward him. This dude know I’m not leaving until I at least make a buck, he stated out loud, talking more to himself, but the girl at the cashier overheard him.

Don’t get yourself in no more trouble, she told him.

Shawn and the Pathmark guard went back and forth about him packing bags at the supermarket located on Fulton Street in Brooklyn every other day, sometimes even getting the police involved. Come on, rent-a-cop, not today, he stated, still packing a customer’s bags.

You can’t pack bags here unless you work for the store, and the last time I checked, there was an eighteen-and-over policy, the guard stated, shaking his head.

This my last person, and I’m gone, Shawn stated. The last time he got into a situation with the guard, the cops were called, and his mother had to pick him up from the precinct.

His mother wasn’t a joke when it came to punishment; she was a young parent doing her best to raise him. Shawn’s father was in prison doing years for crimes Shawn had no idea about.

Beep! Beep! Shawn flagged down a cab outside the supermarket. He had only made sixty dollars today and was upset he had to leave so early, but he knew he couldn’t risk another run-in with the cops. His mother would kill him.

Where to, brother? asked the cabdriver, looking at his rearview mirror.

Take me to Junior’s downtown. Shawn was referring to the famous cheesecake restaurant in Brooklyn, New York.

Seven dollars, the cabdriver stated.

Shawn paid the driver, who wouldn’t move until he got paid. As the cab drove off, he counted his money. He had sold water on Atlantic Avenue this morning. He bought twenty-four packs of water for $4 a pack, selling each water for $1 a pop, which made him a profit of $80. Add the $60 from packing bags, this gave him $140 for the morning.

Now $140 was a lot for a ten-year-old kid, but not Shawn. He was determined to make every penny he could.

Right here is good, he told the cabbie as he approached the corner block of the restaurant.

Have a blessed day, brother, said the cabbie.

You too, he replied back, getting out of the cab and making his way down Fulton Street, passing the cheesecake restaurant.

He walked past all the brand new stores, like Macy’s, V.I.M., Jimmy Jazz, and even a Toys R Us, which Shawn should have been going. But instead, he was making his way in a 99¢ store to do what he did best.

Good evening, ladies, Shawn greeted two ladies as he walked in the 99¢ store.

Hey, lil’ fella, the ladies greeted back, waving at him and smiling too.

What the ladies didn’t know was that Shawn was going to use them to get in the store, because he knew the guy who stood by the door of the store to collect bags would be suspicious of a ten-year-old coming in the store by himself.

As he walked past the door guy, side by side with the ladies, the door guy called him back. Lil’ man, you gotta leave your bag, he said.

No problem, sir, Shawn stated.

He handed him the bag, which was filled with packs of gum—Orbit, Mentos, Freshmint, and more. Shawn would get a shopping cart in the same supermarket he packed bags, fill it up with packs of gum, go to the check-out line, put some on the counter, and the rest in a store bag he already had. As the person in front of him pushed the food items to the cashier, he went to help pack their bags and at the same time sneak his bag filled with gum under the counter, where the store kept extra bags.

So this morning, he wasn’t mad that the rent-a-cop kicked him out so early, because he had a bag full of gum that he would sell to the Chinese people in the nail salon around his way.

Bingo! Shawn said as he looked around the basement of the 99¢ store. He walked right past the cashier counter and slipped in a door that led to the basement, where he knew the employees of the store kept their personal items. He located a backpack on the hanger next to the bathroom and went for it. Just as he was about to take it, he noticed another backpack and purse next to it on a desk across the bathroom.

Searching the two backpacks and purse, he retrieved cash, credit cards, and driver’s licenses and put all the other worthless stuff back.

Hey, you can’t be down here. This area is for employees only, stated a man who seemed to come from out of nowhere. He was short, Spanish, with a nice build.

Shawn sized him up, just in case he had to fight his way out of the basement. I’m sorry, sir, but the lady upstairs told my mother I could use the bathroom down here, Shawn stated in his innocent ten-year-old voice.

Oh, that’s okay, little papi. The bathroom is right behind you to the left, the man stated, believing Shawn got permission from the cashier girl upstairs, who was also the daughter of the owner of the store.

The man went back to carrying boxes upstairs. Shawn came out of the bathroom and looked to see if the man was gone. Seeing it was clear, he went up the stairs, spotted the two ladies he came in with about to leave the store, and caught up to them.

Thank you, sir, he said to the door guy, grabbing his bag and walking out of the store. Piece of cake, Shawn said to himself, making a right on Smith Street and entering the Brooklyn-bound subway station. He got on the A train heading to his apartment building. Tonight was teen night at the Empire Skating Rink, plus he wanted to see how much money he made all together today. But he was more excited about attending teen night. This was the night that all the kids in the surrounding boroughs saved their money to show off at the skating rink every Saturday night. Let’s just say that if you were somebody, you would see them here. The NYPD were always there, but that didn’t stop kids from getting shot every time, which had the mayor stating he would have it shut down.

Shawn exited the subway station on Nostrand Avenue. On his way home, he stopped by the nail salon to sell the packs of gum, adding another $90 to his earnings for the day.

Peace, brother. Let me get two packs of M&M’s peanuts and take three for the sandwich, Shawn said, paying the Arab men who owned the store on the corner of his block.

Anything else, brother? asked the store owner.

Nope, Shawn replied. He grabbed his sandwich, left the store, and headed to his building on Bergen and Rogers, where he lived with his mother, his little brother EJ, and his stepfather.

Perfect, nobody in the house, Shawn said out loud to himself as he walked in the house and into the living room. Counting today’s earnings, he came out $830 richer—$230 from his waters, gum, and packing bags, plus the $600 from the 99¢ store. And he still had the credit cards, which he knew nothing about but would find out real soon.

Bang! What the hell, Shawn said, waking up from falling asleep on the couch. He felt his pockets to make sure his money was still there; then he looked toward the front door to see who had slammed the door like that.

S’up, sleepyhead, said Shawn’s mother as she walked in the house from working all day.

Why you slam the door so hard, lady? Shawn stated playfully.

Because it’s my house, ugly, stated Kizzy, as she walked to her room to change out of her work clothes. She worked at the Central Park ice skating rink, doing security. At five feet seven, with her redbone complexion, and the fact that she was still in her twenties, people always assumed she was Shawn’s sister instead.

Ma, can I go to the Empire Skating Rink tonight? Shawn asked his mother, hoping she was in a good mood.

You better be in this house at twelve o’clock on the dot, and don’t get into any trouble out there. It seems like kids die every day at that rink. And the sad part is they die right in front of the police, she stated, not wanting Shawn to go but not wanting to be a party pooper as well.

No problem, Ma. I’ll be home before twelve. And I made some good money today, so I can take a cab there and back. Because all the trouble starts at the train station, he replied.

Shawn looked at the cable box that read seven o’clock on the dot. He jumped in the shower then put on his newest outfit that his mother had brought him, which consisted of the new All-Star pants and shirt with all the basketball teams on it, with a pair of the latest Jordan sneakers. Shawn came from the bottom of the bottom, but his mother tried to make sure he got the nicest things because she was raised in the struggle herself.

Kizzy was raised by her mother and with no father, her mother became a heroin addict. Then to birth five kids at the young age of twenty five, life had not been so good to her,