Blood Bath Casino

By Bob Hayes

In this page-turning suspense novel, Bobbie Baynes is part owner of two casinos overseas in Turkey. Turkish law requires that a Turkish citizen must own no less than 51% of any company, so Bobbie is forced to have a partner. Their first casino is open for business, and their second casino is nearly finished when suddenly Bobbie's Turkish partner,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Apr 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885904100

Bob Hayes

Bob Hayes has more than 25 years of experience developing security programs and providing security services for corporations, including eight years as the CSO at Georgia Pacific and nine years as security operations manager at 3M. His security experience spans the manufacturing, distribution, research and development, and consumer products industries as well as national critical infrastructure organizations. Additionally, he has more than 10 years of successful law enforcement and training experience in Florida and Michigan. Bob is a recognized innovator in the security field and was named as one of the “25 Most Influential People in the Security Industry” in 2007 by Security magazine. He is a frequent speaker at key industry events. He is a leading expert on security issues and has been quoted by such major media outlets as the Wall Street Journal and Forbes. Bob is currently the managing director of the Security Executive Council.

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CHAPTER 1

I

t's 6:00 a.m. Monday morning in early November 1983. I am driving to the racquetball club to grab a cup of coffee before I hit the road for the two-hour drive to Englewood, Florida, which is just south of Sarasota. I usually arrive at the club on Mondays around 8:00 a.m. for my standing racquetball match with Billy Hartsfield, but today I have a 10:05 a.m. tee time at Blue Water Golf Club with George Marshall, Leonard Stupp, and Sammy Cash. When I’m not out of town, I play racquetball every Monday with Billy, and at least one other time per week with different buddies. I gave Billy a heads up the day before that I would not be available to play, and I am certain he has picked up a match anyway.

As I grab a cup of coffee at the front desk and a copy of the Tampa Tribune, Trisha, the front desk clerk, says Hey, Bobbie, not playing today?

Not racquetball, I reply. Golf today.

She lets me know with her expression that she thinks my life is just one game after another.

Tough life, she says.

Somebody has to do it, I reply as I head back to the courts to say hi to the guys mingling around.

As I come around the corner, there is Pat McDowell doing one hundred push-ups before his racquetball match, a task that he repeats after every match as well.

Hey Pat, I say. What's the deal? Did they start using heavier pencils over there at the FBI? A pencil pusher like you needs to stay in shape. You never know when they may ask you to move your desk into the basement.

I love giving Pat digs when he is in the middle of his push-ups because that way he can’t give me any crap back. Pat has been with the FBI for over twenty years, and now, in his early forties, he is fit as a fiddle even though, as far as I know, he never sees the light of day after reaching the office every morning. We have one of those like/dislike relationships. Pat and a handful of other guys have deemed themselves the best players at the club, so even though they speak to us other guys. they do it in a way that lets you know they are talking to you from their Racquetball Pedestal. Pat would never ask me to play with him, but one day his opponent had canceled and so had mine. I saw Pat on a court just hitting, so I asked him whether he had a game. He accidently replied no. Next thing you know, Pat is on the court with me, one of those players. We agreed to play to fifteen points, and ten minutes later I was leading the game twelve to four when Pat suddenly remembered he had a very important FBI meeting that he had forgotten about. He left immediately, and we never finished that game. But we both know who won.

This made for some very enjoyable dialogue between my fellow minions and me. As the story circulated throughout the club, it became obvious that Pat was upset to find that I had told my buddies. He became even more standoffish. That's why I give Pat little zingers whenever I can, and I must admit, he can zing right back with the best of them.

Around six thirty, Billy walked in and sat down next to me, dressed ready to play. Thought you were playing golf with clients today? he asks.

I am, but not until ten-o-five, so I need to hit the road soon. I just stopped in for a cup of coffee. What are you doing here so early, Billy?

With you out of town, I asked Tyler if he wanted to play today, but he needs to start earlier so he can get to work by nine.

About this time Pat comes off court three after his first game and yells, Hey, Billy, tell your overweight buddy that he could use a few push-ups of his own.

Billy looks at me, and I just tell him, Don’t ask.

Billy and Pat are good friends, which makes Billy the exception in our group. He gets to converse with the upper echelon, and it really irks Pat that Billy and I have become close friends. Billy is a six-foot-tall, 255-pound, ex-football player turned coach and weight trainer, so he is pretty much everyone's friend. Billy and I met playing racquetball, and we developed a great friendship. No one really knows what Billy does. He owns several run-down mobile home parks, yet he lives like a millionaire and is available any time of day to play racquetball or drink a beer. We all joke that he is in the Witness Protection Program. What I really don’t know is how Billy and Pat became friends. They are an odd couple for sure!

I need to hit the road; see you next Monday, I tell Billy.

Don’t cancel on me, he says. I hate getting up early like this.

On the way out, I top off my coffee and ask Trish, Am I getting fat?

She laughs and asks, Have you and Pat been at it again?

I smile and head for my car as the sun begins to illuminate what is going to be a beautiful day.

CHAPTER 2

L

eaving the club just before seven gets me out of Tampa before the start of the heaviest rush hour traffic, and it's smooth sailing to Englewood. I love the solitude of driving: no telephones and no meetings.

A round of golf at Blue Water two hours from my office means a full day away from work. Normally after racquetball I arrive at my office around eleven for the daily credit review meeting. The managers from my auto leasing and equipment leasing divisions will wait for me to present their completed lease applications.

Even now, as our annual volume of business reaches almost one hundred million, I still review every application and give the final approval or rejection as president and sole owner of Baynes Leasing Company. With offices in eleven states and multiple time zones, my days from eleven to eight are consumed by meetings and phone calls. So, I love the peace and quiet of a two-hour drive!

I play either golf or racquetball with George Marshall three or four times each month between November and March, when he is relocated to his winter condo on Siesta Key near Sarasota. George and I have become partners in several different enterprises over the last three years, including four golf courses, one of them being Blue Water. Today, Leonard Stupp and Sammy Cash will be joining us. Leonard and Sammy are also part owners in Blue Water, Tall Palms, Sunshine, and Waterfront, our four golf clubs. Both are also small investors in my equipment leasing company, while George is my largest single investor.

As I pull into the parking lot, I see all three of my companions hitting balls on the practice range. George is sixty-two years old, while Leonard and Sammy are somewhere in their mid-seventies. All three are tremendously competitive, but George takes the cake. George hates to lose at anything and there is very little he won’t do to come out on top, whether it be in business or in sport.

George has a beautiful golf swing and practices every day. At age sixty-two he is in great shape. Leonard and Sammy are hackers who compensate for their bad play by adjusting their handicaps at will to meet their needs. I open the trunk of my car so T. T. can grab my clubs and take them to the range for me. T. T. works in the maintenance department at Blue Water, and nobody remembers what T. T. stands for. Blue Water does not provide caddy service, but George and I like to walk, so we employ T. T. to caddy for us when we play. Leonard and Sammy ride in separate carts because they fight so much that they’re unable to ride together. On the range we all shake hands and the betting begins. Of course, Leonard and Sammy start negotiating adjustments in their handicaps for one reason or another.

All the wagers are placed, and I start to hit a few balls when George says, Bobbie, you will never be a decent golfer with that swing.

But, George, I’m only thirty-two years old; I have youth on my side.

You’ll need more than that, he replies.

As with almost every outing, George and I have our own bet for twenty-five dollars—a straight-up, no strokes bet. As we head for the first tee, I look around and say to myself, It doesn’t get any better than this.

CHAPTER 3

I

t's two thirty in the afternoon, and as we head to the clubhouse for lunch and drinks, Leonard yells, You forgot your score card to George, who is halfway to the clubhouse.

He didn’t forget it, I say. He hopes it will get trashed before he tells me he forgot it.

George hates to lose, and on this Monday afternoon, I will ride home to Tampa with George's twenty-five dollars in my pocket. We all order lunch as Leonard and Sammy slave over the score cards, calculating who won what, when I ask Leonard, Just how many strokes did I beat George by again?

Leonard and Sammy laugh as George, out of character, instantly peels off two tens and a five from his money clip and slides them my way. Nice round, Bobbie, George grumbles.

George always pays his bets but not until the very last second, just when you think he's going to stiff you, so now I wonder what's going on with him. Almost all the other bets either go to Leonard or Sammy, who always tally the damages after each round, then readjust their handicaps until they pronounce themselves, once again, the winners of the various side bets.

You can tell a lot about a person on the golf course. One thing I have learned about George is although he hates to lose, he always plays by the rules. George will exercise every legal option to win and doesn’t care if he pissed you off by pushing his options to the legal limit.

I met George just over five years ago when he contacted me after hearing about my leasing investment program from one of my existing investors. The first time we met, I had been operating my leasing business for almost five years and George wanted me to tell him everything about me and my business.

I explained to him that I was born and raised on a farm in central Illinois, left home after high school, and attended college for two years in Peoria before relocating to Tampa to continue my education and get away from the cold winters. While in college I researched and wrote a paper for my economics class that discussed in detail the great impact that leasing, rather than buying, would have on the automotive and equipment industries. By the late 1970s, I was sold on the concept, and shortly after I started my own leasing company, one of the first independently owned companies in the country. Leasing is similar to financing in that my company has to find money at the best rate possible and then through the lease contracts, give that money to the party leasing the item at a higher rate in order to generate profit. I told George that I was so naïve because I actually thought banks would like my concept so much that even though I was only twenty-one years old, they would lend me unlimited amounts of money and the rest would be history. Obviously, bank after bank sent me away as they snickered and laughed the minute I left.

I struggled for the next year to put food on the table while I did odd jobs and continued to hope that my business would take off. The first friend I made in Florida, Dan Wittlow, had just passed the Florida Bar and opened up his own law practice in Tampa, specializing in tax law. Everybody called him Danny the Frog Wittlow, and over time I simply began to call him Frog or Froggie. Neither of us had enough money to go out drinking, so almost every afternoon around five I would go to this old house in South Tampa that he and a partner had spruced up to be their offices.

Froggie and I would sit in his office until the twelve pack of cheap beer was gone. Night after night he would listen to me talk about my business and how I was stymied without access to the money I needed. One evening Froggie said something that would totally change my world. He said that the new tax laws that the government had just passed provided business owners with fantastic tax breaks for making vehicle and equipment purchases for direct use in their businesses. He further explained that any vehicles or equipment I would buy for lease would qualify for accelerated depreciation and, best of all, 10 percent of the purchase price would be converted to a credit on your taxes each year.

Bobbie, if you get this business going, you will never pay any taxes, Froggie told me.

Instantly, ideas started to flood my brain, and I asked Frog, Why can’t I let other parties, investors if you will, own the leased equipment and vehicles, let them take the tax credits, along with a nice return on their investments?

But how would you make money? Froggie asked.

The investors would pay me a commission, administration fee, or something in exchange for procuring the equipment and the leasing customer.

With Froggie's help, I put together a very unique investment program and slowly built an investor base. Before long I had started to build a nice business.

After my first meeting with George, two years went by while George did his due diligence and he and I built a friendship by playing golf and racquetball. Finally, one day, George asked if we could meet at my office to discuss my investment program. After a few minutes of small talk, George said, You know, Bobbie, I have spent a lot of time looking over your investment opportunity. I have had accountants and lawyers try to knock holes in it, and they can’t find any reason why I should not jump in.

Well, I am pleased to hear that George, I told him. Do you have an amount in mind? I asked, thinking he would say somewhere between ten and fifty thousand, which had been the average investor commitment.

Five million, George said.

I just sat there, not sure if I should act like this is what I expected or if I should laugh at his joke.

George finally asked, Can you place that amount?

I cleared my throat and instinctively said, Yes, without a doubt, George. And, as they say, the rest is history.

CHAPTER 4

A

fter our round of golf, we grab lunch and a couple of drinks. As we are finishing up, the waitress stops back at our table.

Give us another round here, sweetie, Leonard tells her.

Sure, she says.

George quickly interrupts. Not for Bobbie or me; we have a meeting to get to. You boys go ahead, but let us settle up with you so that we can head out.

I start thinking to myself, A meeting? What meeting? I don’t know about any meeting. Assuming George wants to get out of there, I play along.

As we walk together toward our cars, T. T. swings by in a golf cart and asks if we’d like a ride. I swear he sits outside the clubhouse door waiting for us, hoping he can get another tip. George and I both give him twenty-five dollars for caddying earlier. No thanks, T. T.! See you next week, George replies.

T. T. pulls away with his shoulders slumped, and George asks me, Bobbie, can you swing by the condo for a drink? I have something very important I want to discuss with you.

Sure, George. I’ll follow you over, I reply.

As I leave Blue Water, I’m recalling how the last very important meeting I had in George's condo three years ago was the highlight of my career. I’m hoping that nothing negative is about to happen.

By the time I get to George's condo, I am a nervous wreck and literally down the first Seagram's and 7UP in nearly one gulp.

Finally, I can’t wait any longer. Assuming that he is going to pull his investment money, I reluctantly ask, So, what's up George?

Listen, Bobbie, I am very pleased with your investment program, and it has always been my plan to leave my five million in the program for the five-year term that we agreed upon.

Here it comes, just as I expected, I think to myself.

But I need to ask you a big favor, George continues.

By now, my second drink is empty, and George takes my glass for a refill. Thank goodness, because I can tell I will need it.

What kind of favor do you need, George? I ask

I watch George pour my drink, putting double the amount of whiskey in this one, which doesn’t make me feel like good news is on the way!

Listen, Bobbie, I need to withdraw two million dollars of my leasing investment portfolio.

I take a minute to clear my mind, and then ask, How much? I need him to repeat the amount because I was prepared to hear the entire five million dollars.

George repeats the figure. Two million.

I sit there for a few seconds to compose myself and shift my mind to the business at hand. George has finished his drink and now is at the wet bar making himself another when I finally return to reality.

As you know, George, you made a five-year commitment to the investment program, and it was with the knowledge of that commitment that I made your investment. Your money is tied up in leases with five-year terms to clients. There is no easy way to separate two million from your five-million-dollar portfolio and if you could, it would be far too costly for you. You would lose all your return and possibly even a portion of your principal. The most damaging effect would be the loss of all the tax credits that you have earned and will earn.

Believe me, Bobbie, I spent a lot of time with my accountant discussing this issue before I asked you here today, and I totally understand the consequences. I want you to find other investors to purchase two million dollars of my investment portfolio, George says firmly.

At this point I realize that George is going to push the envelope with me, hoping I will crack. I also know that if the roles were reversed, George would not budge.

Sorry, George, we have a contract and there is no way I can liquidate your investment portfolio. Besides, I do not have any other investors with that level of commitment. My investor group is made up of five-hundred-plus individuals who have invested between twenty thousand and one hundred thousand each, and most of their money is committed.

By now George is pacing and empties his drink in one gulp. Without notice, he grabs my glass from the table and heads for the wet bar to make two more drinks.

The drinks are half-made when George turns to me and says, If you don’t have an investor to cash me out, then you do it!

I quickly stand up and head toward George and ask, What the hell is going on, George? I don’t have that kind of money!

He finishes making the drinks, and I pull up a stool at the bar. George slides my drink over and says, Listen, Bobbie, you have made a ton of money off my portfolio the last three years. That's not to mention the thirty or forty investors I referred into the program, so I think you can come up with the money.

Well, George was half correct; I had made a ton of money over the last three years on George's portfolio. The half that he had wrong was that I could come up with the money. Three years ago, I was driving a used Honda Civic, lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and drank cheap beer every night at Froggie's office. Now, I own a $150,000 condo on a ski-sized lake, and I’m sure George noticed that I followed him here in my new Jaguar XJ6 Vanden Plas.

Unfortunately, I was still in my twenties with no credit to speak of, so I had to pay cash for almost all these things when I bought them.

George, it was just over a year ago that I gave you, Sammy, and Leonard three hundred thousand to buy a twenty-five percent interest in our four golf clubs, I tell George, hoping he will understand why I can’t come up with two million.

I remember, but I also remember that the purchase was contingent upon Sammy and Leonard each investing one hundred thousand into your equipment leasing program, George reminds me.

Again, George is correct. At this point I’m between a rock and a hard place—a very hard place. I don’t have any liquid cash to speak of, and if George knows that, he may panic and demand an audit, which our contract permits him to conduct at any time.

I need some time to think, so I tell him, For God's sake, George, this must be some kind of emergency or something. I know you can get your hands on two million in minutes, so tell me what is going on.

CHAPTER 5

"D

o you remember my daughter, Nancy? You met her at my home in Kansas City last summer."

Sure, I remember Nancy, I reply. Is something wrong with her?

No, not at all, George says. Quite the opposite. Everything is very good!

George proceeds to tell me for the last fifteen years Nancy has worked for Golden Suite Hotels. For the last five years, she has been vice president of casino operations. Golden Suites has about twenty-five hotels with casinos in various parts of the United States, and a couple in the Caribbean.

George pauses and disappears into his second bedroom, which he has set up as an office. A few minutes later, he returns with a newspaper in his hands that he lays on the bar in front of me.

I look down and all I can tell is that it is a foreign newspaper with Golden Suites in bold print.

What is this" I ask

George looks at the paper and then apologizes. Sorry! I thought this was the English version. It must be back at my office in Kansas. George tells me that the headline says, New Turkish President, Kenen Evren, Persuades Golden Suites Hotels To Build Two Five-Star Resort Hotels In Turkey.

I notice the paper is dated 1981, so I question what a nearly three-year-old headline has to do with all this.

George continues. The two hotels being built in Marmaris and Istanbul, Turkey, are the first five-star hotels ever built in that country. Until 1980, the country was basically an anarchy with no government controls, and major hotels, restaurants, etcetera stayed out of the country for that reason. Three years ago, in 1980, the government was overturned. The country now has a strong government with a military and six-member national security council.

So is that why Golden Suites is building in Turkey now? I ask

That's partially why, George replies.

At this point I am totally confused, but since George's primary business has always been real estate investments, I assume he must be involved in the financing or ownership of the hotels.

Before I can ask, George continues. "The new president of Turkey, in order to improve the economic conditions of the country, immediately contacted several large resort hotel chains, including Holiday Inn, Marriott, and of course, Golden Suites, to convince one or more of them to build five-star quality resorts on Turkey's two most beautiful beaches. One is to be located in Istanbul, and the other will be located in the Longbeach area of Marmaris, often referred to as the French Riviera of the Eastern Mediterranean. These two cities were the two tourist stops most frequented by Turkey's own residents, as well as others from nearby countries. The new president, Evren, knew that if he could get one or more five-star hotels in these two markets, it would send a message around the world that Turkey was now safe to visit. Combined with the beautiful beaches, the hotels would then cause the economy to skyrocket. As hard as the president tried, he could not find a resort group to agree. He offered interest-free loans, some free money, and even agreed to waive any and all taxes associated with the resorts for a two-year period."

You know, George, I don’t know very much about foreign politics, but it sounds to me like this proposal would be too appealing to not pursue, I say.

George replies, The big issue is that the new government passed into law that all companies doing business in Turkey must be fifty-one-percent owned by a Turkish citizen or a corporation owned by Turkish citizens. They did this to assure the citizens that they would share in the country's wealth and also that they would get jobs in these new corporations. On paper it made sense, yet in reality it was a barrier that was stopping the deal the president really wanted.

So I guess he changed the law — based on the headline I see here, I say while pointing to the front page of the newspaper.

Well, he didn’t have the power to change the law; however, he did have the power to make an exception to the law if he could get a group interested. So, he notified all of the hotel firms, but there still was no positive response. However, Golden Suites responded that if things went well in Turkey for a couple of years, they would possibly be a player.

George takes a look at his watch. By now it is almost seven and totally dark out. George says, Let's run over to the Crab Shack on Tamiami Trail and get a bite to eat. I’m starving.

Fine, I say.

George says he needs to use the bathroom, and while he is gone, I wonder what the heck this has to do with me and two million dollars he is asking me to cough up. At least I got him off the money issue for a while so I can get my thoughts together.

George returns with a fresh shirt on and says, Let's go. You drive; I want to see how it feels to ride in a new Jaguar.

The two of us talk about the car on the way to the restaurant, and of course George wants to know what it cost. By the time we get to the restaurant, I realize that I am now actually anxious to hear the end of the story and get to the punch line. What is this all about, I wonder.

After we order our meals, George continues. The president saw a small light at the end of the tunnel when Golden Suites said they might be interested in a couple years, and he wanted to make something happen ASAP. So, President Evren called a meeting with Golden Suites’ President of New Development, Timothy Walsh, intending to get them to commit to build the hotels now.

That meeting took place in Istanbul, and the president rolled out the red carpet for Walsh and his group. President Evren didn’t beat around the bush; he went straight for the jugular and threw out the final perk that he felt would close the deal.

Mr. Walsh, my country direly needs a five-star hotel on the beaches of Istanbul and Marmaris, as our many correspondences to date have clearly indicated. As President of Turkey, I have offered numerous incentives to many companies like yours to build here in my country, and your firm has thus far shown the most promise, President Evren said.

Mr. Walsh interjected, Well, Mr. President, your offers have been very tempting, and I firmly believe we will be that company that builds on your beaches. We have compiled significant data that indicates that Istanbul and Marmaris are fantastic locations for us to build, and as I said, I truly believe that will take place in a couple of years.

President Evren stood and started pacing around the room as if to allow his temper time to cool, then he turned to Timothy and said, Mr. Walsh, we need those hotels now, and I am willing to make you a deal you cannot refuse.

Timothy replied, I am listening.

My country is willing to provide your firm with the money to build the hotels with no obligation to repay the money until two years after the hotels open, at which time your firm can either agree to pay the money back with no interest applied or you can walk away at any time during that two-year span, and we will waive all taxes for those two years, as previously stated. He paused a minute to get Timothy's reaction.

Timothy sat perfectly still, as he was a seasoned professional who had been involved in many negotiations and knew not to display any positive reaction. President Evren then threw out the icing on the cake, the final offer that he was certain would close the deal.

Mr. Walsh, if you build your hotels now, my country is prepared to issue to your firm the only two casino licenses that our country will offer. We will agree to make no other casino licenses available for a period of ten years.

Timothy could not believe what he had just heard, yet he remained stoic. After a minute or two, Timothy stood up, looked the president in the face, and said, Mr. President, I think we can make these hotels happen for you. I know you would like a firm answer as soon as possible, so please give me one week, and we will give you a definite yes or no.

George has managed to keep the story flowing while he eats dinner, something I have never been able to do. Either I need to eat or talk, and if I talk, my food will sit until I am finished. That is why I never schedule lunch meetings.

Obviously, Golden Suites took the deal, and I can see why, I say.

Yes, they did, and the Golden Suite Resort in Istanbul is less than six months from its grand opening, and the project in Marmaris is at most eighteen months until completion, George answers.

I can’t take it any longer. Not one thing in this entire story suggests that any money is needed. Turkey is providing Golden Resorts with all their construction money, so why does George want me to come up with the two million?

CHAPTER 6

G

eorge signs his charge card, paying for dinner, which totally surprises me because George usually likes to split the bill. As we are walking to the car, I realize it is almost 10:00 p.m. and I have an hour-and-a-half drive back to Tampa tonight, but I know I can’t leave until I get to the bottom of this.

In the car I finally give in and ask, Why do you need two million dollars, and what does this story have to do with the money?

Well, I knew that this background information would be important for you to understand, George explains. "I think you now can see what a great opportunity this proposal was for Golden Suites and why they jumped on it like they did. Golden Suites knew instantly that having a casino in each hotel would fill rooms at twice the normal rate, and with no debt service for two years, the cash would rush in like a tsunami.

"Plus, with the guarantee of no other casino competition, the room sales will soar for a decade. As I said earlier, my daughter, Nancy, was privy to all the negotiations, meetings, and final contracts due to her position with Golden Suites. It has been her primary function over the last eighteen months to design the casinos, line up the equipment, hire staff, and make arrangements for security and all things pertinent to the operation of the casinos. Just over one month ago, Golden Resorts dropped a bombshell on Nancy and told her that they have decided not to operate the casinos but to lease them out to an independent casino operator in exchange for a royalty payment. This decision was made after Golden Resorts had a Big Eight accounting firm, knowledgeable in casino operations, do a five-year income projection for the two casinos. The projections are simply unbelievable; each casino should net in excess of one million dollars per year. The biggest factor that creates these amazing profits is that these two casinos are the only ones in Turkey and also the only casinos for several thousand miles spanning every nearby country. Plus, they are located in the only two five-star resorts in Turkey.

Nancy could not believe that Golden would walk away from these kind of profits, but their explanation was that hotels were what they did best. They feel that with only a couple dozen casinos on the books, to add two new casinos so far removed geographically does not make sense. So, a royalty fee plus a rent check was the most secure way to go. Golden immediately put Nancy in charge of finding an operator for the casinos and asked her to work with their legal department to generate the lease agreement and royalty contract. During her first trip to Golden's headquarters in New York, Nancy called me and urged me to come meet her right away. So, I flew over the next afternoon, and after she got off work, we met at her hotel for drinks and dinner. Over dinner is when Nancy shared with me everything I just told you, and then she threw me a real curveball, says George.

George recalls his conversation with Nancy to me.

Dad, I have spent the last eighteen months setting the stage to open their casinos. As you know, I have been in Turkey literally for the last six months and off and on before that. I have a fabulous staff in place, all the machines are lined up for purchase and shipping, and contactors are in place to do the installation of the machines and security systems. I have met numerous wonderful people over there, including a personal secretary who is also my interpreter. Golden Suites will be laying the carpet in the Istanbul casino next week. Within thirty days at the most, the casino will be ready for the machines to be installed and the final interior work to be done. Golden Suites has already announced that the Istanbul resort's grand opening will be March first, one month before the season is in full swing.

Nancy continued. Listen, dad, I want these two casinos, and I have already spoken with Golden Suites and corporate is one hundred percent in favor of me as the operator; they know and trust me. If I can show them that I have the financing in place, I can resign from my position with Golden Suites and sign the contract for the casinos the same day. I need your help, Dad! This is an opportunity that never will present itself again—nor will anything similar. The projections are off the Richter scale. Even after Golden lease payments and royalty payments, each casino should net one million per year, or more.

How much money are you talking about? George asked.

Five million total. Four million now, and one million if needed over the first few months of operation to cover the possible negative cash flow, Nancy replied.

A light goes off, and now I’ve got it! Now I know why George is asking for the money, but I still don’t know why he is asking me for two million when his net worth is probably twenty-five million or more.

I assume you are going to back Nancy and provide the money for her? I ask

The profits caught my eye, George replies. So, I gathered up the projections and the contracts, then met with my attorney and accountant, who could not poke any holes in the concept other than the obvious risk of doing business in a foreign country. And as you know, Bobbie, there is risk involved in all business endeavors. After reviewing the significant due diligence done by Nancy for Golden Suites, I agreed to provide the four million and the additional one million, if needed.

George and I have been sitting in my car in front of his condo for the last two hours.

It's almost midnight now, and there is only one thing left to find out. I know that you can come up with five million without asking me for two million, I tell George.

Normally you would be correct, but over the last six months, I have made several investments that have literally depleted my cash, as well as lines of credit; and it is way too early to refinance any one of the projects without sending up red flags to my lenders. This is not a project that my lenders would be interested in financing, so it has to be cash. I can only get my hands on three million at this time, and I need to know that I have the full five million in place before I give Nancy the go ahead. Time is of the essence. Golden wants a commitment from Nancy by December fifteenth, or they intend to seek out another operator, replies George.

George, December fifteenth is less than thirty days away, and even if I could sell part of your portfolio, I certainly could not get it done in that time frame, I say.

You were my last option if I wanted to use all my own money. I certainly don’t want to bring any partners onto this project, but if you are certain that my portfolio can’t be split up, I guess Nancy and I don’t have another option but to find one or more investors for the two million. Considering the projections, I don’t think I will have any trouble finding someone to take forty percent ownership in this project for the two million, George says with confidence.

My head is spinning, it's late, and all of this is a lot to take in! I know George well enough to know that either he or Nancy has done serious due diligence on this opportunity. I think back and remember the two years George spent researching my investment program before he committed to invest.

So, I blurt out, George, let me be the investor!

George looks at me like I have one eye in the center of my forehead. If you’ve got two million dollars, then take a portion of my portfolio and give me the two million I need, George says.

I can see that George wants this project for himself, and I can certainly see why!

I don’t have the two million, George, but I can borrow it. Prime interest is sixteen percent, and I would be borrowing at maybe seventeen to eighteen percent. Your investment with me is only paying twelve percent, so I couldn’t do that. However, with the high rate of return that the casinos offer, I can afford to borrow the money, I explain.

If you are certain you can get the money, then let's do it, George says.

I impulsively reply, Let's do it.

CHAPTER 7

M

y office sits on one and a half acres of land at the corner of Dale Mabry Highway and Henderson Boulevard in Tampa. This location is one of the most traveled intersections in the city, with over 250,000 cars passing by each day. In the mid-1950s, the site was a Buick dealership, making the property perfect for my business. The building has ample offices for my twenty-plus employees and plenty of land for us to store our lease vehicles and a wonderful repair center.

When the Buick dealership originally