Chapter 24

The AFG Laundromat

He strut into our showroom with a swagger that John Wayne might envy. Usually a
swarm of smiling sales people would be on him in less than five seconds like flies on
dung. But it was a late Friday afternoon and happy hour had beckoned. There were
just two of us left and Caesar Perez was busy closing a prospect and I was on the
phone with a local business owner asking me to compare the performance between a
Scarab and a Cigarette. So to cut the conversation short I jumped right to the price
differential and sure enough, he decided he needed to "think about it" and "would get
back to me". This allowed me to tend to the strutter who was clearly annoyed that
nobody had attended to him since he walked through the door three minutes ago.
"Does anyone around here want to sell me a boat?" he snapped. "Sure sir, how many
would you like and where would you like them delivered?" I replied which managed to
evoke a small but genuine grin from the man. I introduced myself as one of two sales
managers of Champion Marine and he presented himself as "Ed Chism" in such a way
that he just expected me to know he was the President of a local investment banking
firm and a former U.S. diplomat. To me he merely represented my monthly bonus if I
managed to sell him a boat. And for an extra $2,500, I was certainly going to make the
effort.

The most distinguishing aspect of Ed Chism aside from his head of silver white hair,
was his dress. The man was impeccably dressed from head to toe in strictly
designer clothes ranging from a crisp Armani blazer to his Gucci belt and Bally
shoes. He was not a flashy dresser mind you, just one with excellent taste in
clothing. His jewellery only confirmed his wealth from his gold Philipe Patek watch
to a diamond ring that was at least 2 carats, maybe even 3. For me a lowly yacht

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salesman, I perceived that this "walk-in" would not be one to quibble and haggle over
a few dollars when buying his boat.

"I want something fast, sporty, and doesn't leave me exposed to the sun all day. I don't
want some battleship that won't fit under bridges and drink gas by the
drum". He clearly new what he wanted but there were still some narrowing down to
do. "Do you want inboards or outboards?" I asked referring to the engines.
"Outboards for sure. That way if there's a problem with an engine, I can just pop on a
spare and go while the bad one is being repaired" "How big?" I asked. "30 to 40 feet
would be okay I suppose, let's see what you got." With that I toured him
around the boat yard and marina for almost an hour as he inspected a handful
of boats. I noticed that he kept gravitating towards a Wellcraft Scarab, one of
our best sellers so I offered to take him for a spin in it. I knew the performance
of this boat with it's twin Yamaha 250 hp engines would either make him
smile or piss in his pants.

We made small talk as I gassed up the boat and made sure we had safety gear
on the boat. Even though we wouldn't leave the safety of Florida's
Intercoastal Waterway which was as calm as my bathtub, the marine patrol
lurked out there daily in order to hit their quota of safety checks especially
near the end of the month.

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The man was eccentric to be sure, but I would not know his true
arrogance for months to come. My guess was that he was about fifty years
old. His tanned swarthy complexion confirmed he had plenty of leisure time
as he confessed to being an avid tennis player. There is no shortage of golf
courses and tennis courts in Miami, but exorbitant green and court fees
relegate them to the ranks of the wealthy. The man was polite, articulate
and well polished. It was hard not to admire the guy. His image exuded
wealth and I would soon learn that his wealth was directly derived from his
image and not vice versa.

Less than twenty minutes later we were

flying at 50 knots down one of the few
unrestricted speed areas and old Ed
wore a smile from ear to ear. I knew I
had a sale when he asked me
"How much does this go for?" Back
at the office we talked about options and accessories and this guy was like
a kid in a toy store adding every bell and whistle that he could think of which
was just fine with me as I envisioned the price tag for this $40,000 basic boat
soon hitting $60,000. I think Ed Chism was the only owner of a 30 foot
Scarab with a ten mile radar on it, other than smugglers. He ordered
some custom upholstery and killer stereo system and left me with a $10,000
deposit. His boat would be ready in two weeks and he returned with
another $47,000 check and his 20 year-old son Ed Jr. when he picked it
up. By direct contrast his son was quiet and reserved but dressed very
much the same as his dad.

The owner of Champion marine was upset that Chism didn't finance like
most everyone else as it eliminated his back-end money from the finance
company. So he offered me another $500 bucks if I could talk Chism into
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 using the marina at $200 a month versus buying a trailer for his boat. That
took me an extra fifteen minutes but I walked away with a healthy $3,500
commission on that boat which earned me another $2,500 in bonus moneys
for one of my best months. Only my wife was happier than I that day. It
was days like this that made it easier to forget the hell I went through just
a few short months ago. I now concluded that God was rewarding me
for enduring those 38 months of captivity.

Mr. Chism left the office a proud new boat owner but he forgot to take his
warranty papers with him. I looked at the address on his check and discovered
his office was right down the street from us, less than a quarter mile away.
I decided I would just drop off the papers at his office after work.

His office was in the Barnett Bank Building at 2875 N.E. 1'91st Street on the sixth floor.
The building looked like many other South Florida office buildings but did not present
the lush conspicuous wealth of Brickell Avenue's financial district. I still had no idea
what Chism did for a living and for all
I knew, he could have just inherited
his wealth. As I entered the lobby I
was greeted by a friendly young girl
who was clearly the receptionist. I
was told that if I didn't have an
appointment, I'd have to make one,
and I just said that I was dropping of
some papers. By then Ed Jr. walked
by and spotted me and welcomed
me inside the main office. It was
about a 2000 square foot office by
my guess with about four work

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cubicles in an open area and three enclosed executive offices, the middle one had
it's door closed but venetian blinds open. I could see Ed Chism inside on the phone.
The office was full of computers, two fax machines, and a handful of employees in
casual dress. File cabinets seemed to fill up a good deal of space as well. The office
like Chism himself was not flashy but just very clean and in a contemporary styling
with one or two paintings and plants. No marble floors, mirrored walls or fancy light
fixtures. It was clearly a work space. Ed Jr. brought me a Coke from the small
kitchen area and engaged me in some chit chat as the receptionist told Chism Sr. I
was waiting for him.

About then, a beautiful, busty, but older woman walked in and greeted everyone with
a smile and kiss. She I would learn, was Mrs. Chism. Terry, who like her husband and
son, was dressed out to the nines in all designer clothes and a plethora of jewellery.
She was quite attractive and had a very pleasant personality. I liked her instantly and
"Fulo" her son soon introduced us. I never in my life heard the name "Fulo" before but
from that moment on, that was Ed Junior's new name for me. Terry and I hit it off
talking while her husband still burned up the phone line. I detected her Spanish accent
so I practiced my rusty Spanish with her and she remarked that I did well for a gringo.
I soon learned that Terry was from Panama and that she moved out of Panama
during the 1989 U.S. invasion. She indicated that she had worked for the
government of Panama but gave no details just yet. So I assumed she had some
general service position, like a Customs clerk or the like, and we moved on to
different subject matter. By the time her husband emerged from the office, she had
invited me to dine with her and her husband at Turnberry Country Club which was
less than a mile away. Of course I accepted, I was intrigued by this family which
seemed to own the world.

Chism first attended to his wife and signed some papers for her before ushering me
into his office, which was rich in mahogany bookcases and a matching desk.

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There was a picture of him standing next to President George H. Bush and
some Army brass. There was another picture of him with General Noriega and
his wife on his desk but I noticed the absence of typical family pictures like the
wife, kids, and dog. The few pictures he did have were not meant for his
viewing pleasure but as sales tools to impress people that entered his office. Ditto
for a leather-bound deluxe Bible that sat conspicuously on the credenza behind
him. In days to come, I'd learn first-hand the critical role that Bible would play in the
sales process of American Financial Group. Indeed, I myself was impressed. He
didn't wait for me to ask as he explained "I worked with the Panama Canal
Commission as a diplomat before I started up this company". I told him that I too
worked for the U.S. government years ago and explained my background minus
a certain 38 month period in my life.

I gave him his warranty papers and then just had to ask "What does this company
of yours do?" Now he just smiled, leaned back in his chair and then forward as if to
share a secret. Proudly he responded with words that I simply refused to believe
"Tony, we are money managers for some of the wealthiest people in the world
and we earn them between 20% to 35% per annum tax-free". He noted my skepticism
"Don't believe me?" he added. Before I could respond he handed me a computer print-
out that indicated he had some $50 million under management and that the gross
annual return was about 45%. Instead of reassuring me, I grew even more leery at
seeing the higher number. "We don't do this for free you know!" he exclaimed as he
tried to justify the higher earnings.

Quickly I calculated that if this document was genuine, this guy was earning a 10%
commission on $50 million a year. $5 million a year was not bad by any standards and
I commented to that effect "Yeah but we have overhead you know. We spend over a
million a year to wine and dine our clients to keep their money here". I didn’t want
to seem nosey but I couldn't resist asking since each account seemed to have at

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least $500,000 or more in it, "Where do you find all these wealthy people and
convince them to invest with you instead of Morgan Stanley or Merrill Lynch.?"

Now he just gloated and replied "Those big brokerage houses prey on suckers who
think 10% or 15% a year is a good return. They have no idea that they are getting
less than half of the profits earned with their money. Our clients know better.
They are experienced players. For the most part they are personal friends of
mine, my wife's and people we know from government. We started of with
less than a dozen clients only four years ago and now we have almost a hundred"
he boasted. "Yeah, but how can you pay them such high returns and tax-free no
less?" With a grin he just said "If you have a $100,000 to invest I'll show you!" He
explained that $100,000 was his minimum investment required to participate
in his "program". Not wanting to have to admit that I just got out of prison and didn't
have an extra $100,000 lying around, I went along with him and asked "Do you have
anything I can take home and read?" He reached into his desk drawer and pulled
out a little booklet of about 20 pages that he handed to me.

On the cover it simple said "American Financial Group" and "Regulation S Program".
Not wanting to appear stupid, I just nodded as if I suddenly realized how all the
money was made. In reality I never heard of "Regulation S" and didn't have a clue as
to what it could possibly be. "You’ll have to excuse me now Tony because I have
a client coming in a few minutes. I understand my wife invited you for dinner
tomorrow night so we can talk more then if you like" "Great." I said as I shook his
hand and left with the little booklet that would change my life forever.

That night after I played with my daughter and she thoroughly wore me out, I picked
up the blue gold and white booklet from American Financial Group and began
reading what at first I concluded had to be a scam. According to the booklet
"Regulation S" was a section of the U.S. Securities Act enacted by former President
Bush to lure foreign investment dollars into Wall Street. It was the "bait" for billions
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of investment dollars according to AFG since it allowed foreigners to buy stock in
American companies at significant discount of 5% to 25% below actual market
value. I never heard of such a thing and it all seemed "UnAmerican" to me. After
all why should foreigners be able to by shares in IBM, Lockheed, or Mattei for $5
or $10 less per share than me - a genuine American? It couldn’t possibly be true
because if it were, Americans would be outraged. But as I continued reading the
booklet continued insisting it was fact and pointed out that minimum returns to the
investor over the past three years had averaged 24%. I then was treated to two
pages of bios on Chism and his fund manager David Siegel and both were impressive.
Chism it seemed had a distinguished career with the U.S. State Department and
U.S. Army spending most of his life in Panama as a diplomat. Siegel it was noted
was an experienced stockbroker and CFO of a few companies with a stint as a
CIA economic analyst. These credentials were of impeccable pedigree,
and the company's track record was one that would make any mutual fund
manager green with envy. For a moment

I caught myself thinking it just might all be true. What if it was? I thought to myself.
But then the reality of my life hit me and I recall what my father pounded into my
head years ago as a kid who was a continuous sucker for magazine ads promising
pills to make me two inches taller, or exercise gadgets that would pack ten
pounds of muscle on in ten days - "If it sounds too good to be true it probably is". I
concluded that this "Regulation S" fell into this category and tossed the enticing
booklet into the trash on my way to bed. Out of courtesy I would still keep my dinner
appointment with the Chisms and if I was lucky he might be able to refer some of
his rich clients to me for a new boat. Despite what I felt about his operation, I decided
not to burn any bridges just yet. This decision would eventually earn me
over $100,000 a year. God works in strange ways as I was about to discover
first hand yet again.

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When I arrived for my dinner date at the beautiful Turnberry Country Club
restaurant, I noticed that Terry was absent and I assumed she might be powdering
her nose in the washroom. But "Eddie" as he now insisted I call him, told me that
Terry's mother was not feeling well and Terry decided to attend to her. But as the
evening wore on I realized he had probably planned for us to be alone all along as
he tried to sell me, a salesman into investing in his Reg S program. Once again I
was too embarrassed to say I didn't have the $100,000 to invest so told him that our
family funds were in a trust fund that was locked up under contract for another
two years.
Clearly dismayed, our conversation turned to his new boat, boating, and dozens of
questions he had about handling, docking, and maintaining a boat. I learned that
he never had such a boat before and sensed he was intimidated by all it's power. By
the time we finished our seafood dinner, I had agreed to spend four hours every
Saturday morning teaching him how to safely and properly use his boat. As a
former Search & Rescue lifeboat coxswain and boatswain mate in the U.S. Coast
Guard, I myself had received the best training in the world, and driving a boat for
me was like driving a car for most people. Besides, he offered to pay $500 for
each four- hour lesson.

Chism was a quick study and after only six lessons he was proficient at the helm,
learned all the channel markers of South Florida's Intercoastal, and soon
discovered every watering hole between Miami and West Palm Beach which we
frequently visited on our weekend outings. When you spend four hours alone with
anyone on a boat at sea, or puttering at idle speed down the Intercoastal, there
are only four things one can do ... listen to music, drink, check out the bikini-clad
babes on other boats, or talk. We did all three but mostly the latter. Chism it
seemed did not have many true friends, a fact he readily admitted to me when
he once remarked that his friends suddenly appeared with his wealth and that
his handful of real friends were all still in Panama. He spoke with high regard of his
former boss Colonel McCauliffe of the U.S. Army, and boasted how he really ran the
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show at the Panama Canal while all the Army brass were playing golf and
tennis all day. With each boating excursion and every beer, "Eddie" would reveal
more and more about himself, his, life, and his problems.

I shared my life with him also, but never once revealed my imprisonment,
which always remained a shameful event in my life despite the fiasco that put
me behind bars. I always guarded this time of my life from all but my wife as a
secret since I was convinced nobody would ever believe I was jailed as part of a
government cover- up. I came to this conclusion after seeing how my own mother
reacted when I clued her in as to why I charged with bribery. She never outright
said she didn't believe me but I sensed her reluctance to seek help on my behalf.
Only after she spoke with Ty West and Johnathan Kwitny, and received a
threatening call of her own did she finally realize the scope of the mess I fell into.

After a only three weeks, my Saturday mornings with Eddie turned into full-day
excursions that would usually take us to Fisher Island, the most expensive piece of
real-estate in Florida where the rich and famous like Oprah Winfrey and Fortune
500 CEOs keep residence in the winter or come to play on week-ends. We’d sip
tropical drinks and "check out the landscaping" as Eddie would say. Indeed,
Fisher Island would make any man think he died and went to heaven. Nowhere
else on Earth have I seen so many gold-diggers and trophy babes in one place at
one time. Tits and ass everywhere hanging out of $500 designer bikinis. Of course,
quite a few people were there with their families as well and this was great place to
network and fish for business, a glaring fact that Chism seemed to have missed.
The beach-front Bistro at Fisher Island became our favorite hangout but we
occasionally headed North for some of the dockside restaurants and bars like
Shooters and others all the way up to Jupiter. We often spotted celebrities like Don
Johnson, Claudia Schiffer, David Bowie, Sly Stallone, Madonna, and even Princess
Stephanie on one occasion. South Florida is a great big playground for Americans

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of all walks of life, but especially so for the wealthy who command ownership of all
the waterfront real-estate that starts at $1,000,000 for a 50' by 80' bare lot. A one
bedroom condo at Fisher Island starts at $1.5 million. But the economy was booming
and stock markets were rocking. I heard on the TV news that something like 100
new millionaires were being made every day on Wall Street, and being exposed
to the good life of Fisher Island, made me want to become one of them. My family
deserved better than what I provided for them and I felt compelled to make-up for
the lost time and income of 38 months in prison.

In less than a month Eddie had

introduced me to everyone in his company
including his partner David Siegel, a quiet
guy on most occasions, but with a sense of
humor that could suddenly knock you right out
your chair with an unexpected joke. By far David
had the best jokes I ever heard. He was balding
in his 50s and looked like a college professor
behind his spectacles.
He would be the one to convince me that
"Reg S" was indeed both real and legal. He
did this by actually giving me a copy of the
legislation that created Reg S and I
recall at how stunned I was to realized how easy it was to amass a fortune with Reg S
at such minimal risk. The law only required that a foreigner hold their Reg S shares for
41 days, after which time they could sell for an incredible tax-free profit of 5% -10%.
If they repeated this cycle every 41 days, they could legally earn 40%-60% a year -
all tax free in the U.S. Siegel quickly pointed out to me however that AFG clients
held their shares for 90 days so as not to raise any red flags with regulators who might
be inclined to think that investors were "abusing or exploiting" the law.

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Anna Dalcaumune the receptionist was a young vivacious girl that had an adorable
personality. She was cute and friendly and I noticed that everyone called her
"The BAP" which I heard was short for "Brazilian American Princess". Anna was
no beauty queen but just had a magnetic personality that made her everyone's
friend. Nancy LeDuc was a quiet woman in her late thirties who I understood to
be David's assistant. David's son Phillip was Fulo's age and was the company's
onl licensed stock-broker. Fulo of course, was the company's comptroller, handling
all disbursements, bookkeeping, and daily financial transactions. He was quiet,
reserved, and very intelligent. He seldom spoke but used his words wisely. He was
respected in the office – for being the opposite of his arrogant father.

Once it sunk in that Reg S was both real and legit it dawned on me that this little
company had the goose that lays the golden eggs and Eddie was well aware of
this fact and often would gleefully gloat about his success, especially after the
fourth or fifth beer on our boating trips. But I was puzzled why he had so relatively
few clients considering what he had to offer investors. I was even more puzzled
why he almost never invited our wives out with us, and why he never called Terry nor
she him throughout an entire Saturday, no matter how long we were gone or how
late we stayed out. I was determined to find out one day as we were tooling down
the Intercoastal.

"Eddie, why aren't you selling Reg S to the public?" I asked. "Why should we?
We're pulling down $5 million a year net and my wife and I have everything we need."
Somehow this answer didn't seem genuine coming from Eddie and I concluded
he was just testing me. "Really Eddie, what's keeping you from making a few
hundred million every year with Reg S?" He reached for another cold Coors Light
and looked me in the eye as he explained. "Selling something like this to strangers
is not easy - just think how skeptical you were when I told you about Reg S.
Besides, I do other business on the side that makes me good money too." "Like

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what?" I asked. But he responded with a question of his own "What makes you
think this could be sold to the public Tony?". As someone with ten years of
sales experience, I already knew anything in this world could be sold, it was just a
numbers game - a matter of getting to a "yes" after deflecting all the "nos" of buyers.
I was convinced Reg S would appeal to intellectual investors all over the world in
search of a high-yield, low-risk investment, especially one that not only had the
blessings pf the U.S. government, but was created by Uncle Sam himself! "Eddie,
if you put a package together that eliminated the skepticism right from the
start, you'd have a line of people at your office door waiting to sign up". I explained.
"And how do you propose we eliminate the skepticism?" he asked with real interest.
"By including a copy of the actual Reg S law and testimonial letters of your existing
clients." "Hmmmmmmm" was the only response I got from Eddie followed with
a few minutes of silence.

"I'm going to mention to this to David" he finally remarked as we pulled back home
into Fort Apache Marina, where a gorgeous, buxom, brunette waved and smiled
to us as we tied up the boat for the night. I had never seen her before, but would
soon learn she grew up less than ten miles from me in Brecksville, Ohio. She was
a real looker wearing short shorts and a halter top with no bra. In the cool evening
breeze her nipples stood at attention and she bounced her way towards us with
her long brown hair draped around her shoulders. I was shocked when she
leaned over and gave Eddie a kiss. "Tony, this is my friend Kimberly Burkett". We
exchanged greetings and I knew better than to ask any questions. She had a
beautiful smile, great tan, and a trim firm body. Her huge breasts looked like they
might explode at any second. Suddenly my previous assumption that Eddie was
a happily married man evaporated that evening. The three of us shared a drink
at the Ft. Apache bar together and then as usual, I cleaned up the boat as Eddie
drove away in his white Mercedes with Kimberly.

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My wife was not pleased with these day trips I was spending with Eddie instead
of her and our infant daughter Nicki. I actually felt guilty about it too, and I tried to
compensate for the lost day by taking an extra day off work to spend with them
since that extra $500 a week from Eddie gave me a little financial buffer. That
night we had an argument about these Saturday adventures and I persuaded
Eddie that we'd have to take the wives out now and then or I'd have to cancel out on
future excursions. But Eddie inadvertently came to my rescue the next day when
a letter was delivered to me in an American Financial Group envelope marked
"Personal & Confidential". It took me by surprise and wondered what it could
be. Upon opening it, I realized that Eddie was offering me a job to help him
market his Reg S program.

I was making good money at Champion Marine, about $15,000 a month during
the summer months and about $5,000 during the winter months. More than that
I was having a ball working around the waterfront on boats all day long. But the
lure of real money was irresistible as I reached for the phone. "I got your letter Eddie,
but what exactly did you have in mind?" I aksed. "I'm not real sure myself, but David
and I want to talk with you. Can you meet us for lunch at Prezzos?" Of course
I could - and did.

"I told David about our conversation and we agree that some big money could
be made if we can draw some big players and since we've already gone
through our circle of friends, taking this to the public might be a good idea after
all, but. .." "But what?" I asked. "But we need to keep a low profile and do this
discreetly" he replied. "Why so?" His ostensible explanation was one that I would
initially buy into "Because if word gets out that foreigners are making this kind of
money off the backs of American companies, the American public will be so angry
that the SEC will be forced to shut the program down". It actually made
sense to me as I recalled my own initial reaction to Reg S. "So David and I want

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you to design a package like we discussed and then find a way to market this
overseas so we can limit our exposure in the U.S." It sounded good to me but
I was not going to abandon my income at Champion marine for a 4% or 5%
commission that he offered me in his letter, when I was currently earning a 20%
commission. I explained this as diplomatically as I could. "Look Tony, there's
plenty of money here for everyone, so convince us with a package that will
sell and we'll work out the compensation thing later". I knew I could impress them
with a great sales package so I did not pursue the matter further just yet. I could
sense that my life was about to take an unexpected turn.

At home my wife had her doubts. She had grown accustomed to the security of
my yacht sales income, which was not a fortune, but allowed us to live
comfortably without financial worries. Our monthly bills were less than $2,000
and I never failed to bring home at least a $2,000 more than that every month.
But that weekend, her attitude would change when we she got to meet Eddie for the
first time and be exposed to his personal wealth. The Mercedes, the jewelry, the
boat, all led her to believe this man was the epitome of success, and she wanted
me to share in that wealth as well. But, despite the aura of wealth, my wife also
had a gut feeling that Eddie was one who could not be trusted, and she reluctantly
told me that she did not really like nor trust the man. I should have listened to
her, but greed is a powerful creature and compelled me to follow a path to what I
believed to be certain wealth and security for my family.

Chism and Siegel loved my package design that included performance charts,
testimonial letters, a Q&A page, and flow charts of investment capital. A few
comical analogies were made and concluded with one that inserted a bit of urgency
for the prospective investor. The header said "Timing is Everything" and below was
a cartoon of Colonel George Custer waving off an assistant who was trying in
vain to introduce Custer to Mr. Gattling, who was trying to get an audience with

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Custer to demonstrate the world's first machine gun. Custer's remarks were "Not
now Captain! Can't you see I'm busy with my Indian war plans? Whoever it is tell
them to come back and see me in six months! ". Of course the following month
Custer and troops were outnumbered and slaughtered at the infamous battle of
Little Big Horn by Sitting Bull and his warriors. This little bit of history was designed
to provoke a little second thought in the minds of prospective investors who
might otherwise procrastinate.

Another cartoon of a huge elephant was inserted to eliminate the expected

objection of a prospect who would say "Why should I invest with such a small
company I never heard of when huge companies like Merrill Lynch and Goldman
Sachs send me on free vacations every year to invest with them?" "Bigger Isn't
Always Best" the header stated and it was explained that success of Reg S
depended on fast and precise decisions that huge bureaucracies of the major
brokerage houses just couldn't process quickly enough to be effective - like
turning an elephant loose in a crystal shop to take inventory.

All the potential objections were addressed in the package which repeatedly
emphasized that not a single investor had ever lost money with AFG, which in fact
was true at that time. Of course the necessary disclaimers had to be included by law
and Eddie supplied the banking and other references along with the testimonial
letters.

The package had grown to about 30 pages, ten more than what they had been
using, and they were both genuinely impressed. But a good package
was only half the problem as they quickly reminded me. "How are we going to
discreetly get this package into the hands of qualified investors?" "By taking out
full page ads in the in-flight magazines of foreign airlines where you have a
captive. audience who read everything in sight to fight the boredom of a flight.

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We're also going to put out news releases to foreign financial publications
and newspapers". They looked at one another and just smiled. Eddie extended
his hand across the table and said "Welcome aboard the USS AFG Captain".
This "Captain" nick-name would be Eddie's name for me for a good year. But my
wife and I had decided I would need an iron-clad contract from Eddie, and both
Chism and Siegel agreed to give me one as well as a non-circumvention
agreement, which gave me an even greater degree of security and comfort to my
wife.

The contract we executed would make me a millionaire in less than six months since
it gave me five percent of the up-front moneys invested and ten percent on the
back-end profits. Considering that the minimum investment was $100,000 US, I
could make $25,000 from each and every $100,000 I recruited into AFG. Since
I already had a database of luxury yacht buyers and friends Like multi-millionaires
Tom Coury, Pierre Gonyou, and Princess Amina Mohammed, I was confident
thatthis would be a very lucrative gig for me. But as time would teach me, any contract
is only as good as the people who sign them. And this would soon become the
costliest lesson I would ever learn in life.

I was brought into the office and given one of the four cubicles, right across from
Phillip Siegel. Nancy LeDuc was sitting in this space before and now she was
noticeably absent. Phillip told me simply that "she no longer works here". But a few
days later when Nancy stopped by the office to collect a few items of hers, I asked
her what happened. Her reply was brief but mysterious "You'll understand in a
month or two". Nancy was probably a fortune teller in a previous life for her
prediction would come true.

Eddie handed me a box of AFG business cards he had printed up for me.

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To my surprise I was now the "Executive Vice President" of American Financial
Group, a title he said would make my job easier since according to him "People
feel better and more important when they think their dealing with top management".
I also noticed that he gratuitously gave me an "MBA" which he explained was just
"another sales tool". He claimed that I had to have one if investors were going to
take me seriously. I didn't feel comfortable with this but deferred the conversation to
when we could discuss it privately away from the employees.

The very next day while I was preparing a mailing to some yacht buyers
overseas, Eddie sent for me to come into his office. When I did noticed he was on
the phone and motioned for me to close the door. When I did, he switched the
phone to speakerphone and in Spanish introduced me to "my old and very
good friend General Manuel Noriega". At first I thought it was a prank, but as
the conversation progressed, I was introduced as "Captain Tony DiMarco" and
some minor chit chat led me to believe that it might really be Noriega on the other
end of the line, especially when he mentioned some things about his surroundings
that only someone who spent time in solitary confinement at MCC Miami
(like me and Noriega) would know. Finally when the voice instructed Eddie to
have some papers delivered to Frank Rubino's office and asked him to pick
up the phone from speaker, I was convinced it really was Noriega since Atty.
Frank Rubino was known to be Noriega's lawyer. I remained in the office as I heard
Eddie assure his friend that he was "doing everything possible to get a new trial or
sentence reduction" and was going to meet with a federal judge for dinner to
propose "some ideas".

He also said that he "spoke with one of the Bush people" and they can't do
anything until after the election. But the good news is that you made 23% this last
quarter." He ended the conversation by telling Noriega that he and Terry missed
his company and that they pray for him every night. I was shocked by what I was

508
hearing, knowing full well from my own experience that every call coming out of
MCC Miami is monitored. When Eddie hung up, I casually remarked, "If that's
really Noriega, you must know that everything you talked about was recorded
Eddie". "Not so my friend." He rebutted and further explained "Legal calls can't be
monitored by law and when he calls me about confidential matters he always
makes a three-way call through Frank Rubino's office. If it’s a personal call that
has nothing to do with business, then he just calls me direct collect". I just nodded
then asked "You guys still keep in touch huh?". "We talk at least once a month. I
feel sorry for the guy Tony. You know our government really fucked this guy over
and if you met him, you'd see he's not the monster Bush made him out to be."
"Really?" was all I could think of to say. With that Eddie reached into his desk and
pulled out a VHS video tape and through it in my lap. "Take this home and watch
it and you'll see what I'm talking about" The label on the tape read "The Panama
Deception" and I have to admit it was a very provocative and enlightening
documentary that changed my views .drastically about Noriega.

In fact many people who also saw this video say it should be George H. Bush who
should have been jailed instead of Noriega. But that's another story, and I just
recommend that every American grab a copy of this video at their local video store
and draw their own conclusions. Eddie also shared a few old photographs with me
of him with Noriega and if you didn't know who Noriega was, you'd think you
were looking at college chums at a fraternity party - smiles, women, and
beer everywhere. Terry was even in a few of the playful vacation and casino pictures.
They could have come out of anyone's family photo album. Then Eddie showed me
some photos of some beautiful waterfront real- estate that he claimed was gifted to
him by Noriega out of friendship and was now boasting that some major Hotel
chain (I seem to recall that it was either Marriott or Club-Med) had offered him $30
million for the property. He assured me that one day he'd get $50 million for it

509
because it had over a mile of sandy beachfront. He added that he'd keep at least
five or ten hectares for his own retirement home.

The following week Kimberly appeared in our office as pretty as ever but in more
modest clothing that only exposed her long tanned legs. Eddie made an
announcement that she was now his new "Executive Assistant" . Although she
was pleasant and nice to me and everyone else, I sensed that she was not wanted
there by David, Phillip, the BAP, and especially Fulo. But I said nothing and decided
to play dumb even when Kimberly would call in sick the same days Eddie would take
off early or fly to New York for a "business meeting". From the rumblings in
the office, the ruses weren't working very well. The office now grew extremely
tense every time Terry would stop by and would have to exchange greetings with
the new girl in the office. Terry was such a nice person that we kind of all just wished
that mKimberly would somehow just go away. It wasn’t that Kimberly wasn’t a nice
person, because she was. It's just that her affair with Eddie was bound to cause
problems sooner or later. David’s response was classic “Oh joy.”

That weekend Eddie and I went to Fisher Island again but in getting there we took
the long route since it was windy and the open ocean seas were choppy and
breaking at eight feet or so. This would not make for a comfortable ride in anything
less than a cruise ship. The longer routing down the intercoastal caused Eddie
to drink more beer than usual. Since I usually drove the boat, I either restricted
myself to one can of beer or stuck to ice tea. By the time we arrived at FI it was about
1pm and Eddie already had a good buzz going. You can always tell when Eddie
was drinking because he'd become very talkative and delve into various
unpredictable areas he'd normally never discuss. Today was the day he would
tell me the history of AFG whether I wanted to hear it or not.

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 Fisher Island was Eddie’s favorite playground, We came here by boat usually twice a
month to play tennis or simply drink and socialize.

He reverted back to the days of the 1989 invasion when "Noriega was betrayed by
Bush & Company". Eddie was clearly still angry and bitter that his good friend was
not only deposed from power, but removed and jailed in such a humiliating way.
Eddies insists it was nothing less than a "kidnapping". After yet another beer he
dropped the bombshell on me "I warned him but it didn't help much." "What?" I
asked in disbelief. "Yeah, I told him a few hours in advance when they were
coming, but the Seals blew a hole in his jet and troops had the city sealed off.
He was trapped. We found him a boat but we had no way to safely communicate
with him or get him to the boat." From what I was now hearing, I deduced that
they shared one loyal friendship together. I can't imagine risking charges of
treason for anyone other than my own flesh and blood family. Eddie clearly
could be a good friend in time of need, and in a certain way I admired what I
perceived to be loyalty. I would soon learn that money had something to do with it
as well.

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After ordering two shrimp cocktails and two rum and cokes at the bistro, the
tale of AFG's origins continued. Noriega it seems fully anticipated making a
clean escape and had given two large Samsonite luggage bags stuffed with $10
million of cash to Chism to discreetly hold for him until sent for once he found safe
haven abroad in Cuba. But when plans failed and Noriega was captured, Chism
feared that under the influence of injected drugs, Noriega might divulge how he
became aware of the invasion plans. As it turned out the Chisms, were already under
suspicion by the U.S. authorities who suspected Terry. "Why would they suspect
Terry?" I asked. Eddie took a deep breath and then forced himself to tell me
that "Terry was once Noriega's mistress and worked in his Treasury department
and then as his personal secretary. Now that she's married to me and it's known
by everybody that we still socialize with the Noriega family, they would naturally
label Terry a suspect - wouldn't you?" "Yeah, I guess so. So what happened?" "I
guess I panicked a bit. I took the cash and headed for the border at 2:00 in
the morning. I drove all the way to Mexico City, opened an account and deposited
the money. You can't imagine how nervous I was driving around will all that money".
He said he returned from Mexico City to avoid further suspicion before his
absence was noticed. But both he and Terry were already on a list to be questioned
by the CIA and they were picked up and interrogated by Army Intel and CIA
investigators.

Apparently they were able to convince investigators that it wasn't them and Terry
and Eddie decided to leave Panama for good and start a new life.
Although he didn't tell me where Terry went, he stated that he and another
Panamanian named Carlos Castillo went to Mexico City, and using Noriega's
money opened a business together. Although I cannot recall the original name
of the company (U.S. agents seized my notes and records), I recall that the office
was located on either Calle Reforma or Calle Liberatador in Mexico City. This

512
office would later appear in some AFG literature as their "Latin American
Headquarters Office". This company would eventually become American
Financial Group when Eddie decided to set up operations in Aventura, Florida,
an upscale suburb of Miami located about twenty miles North of downtown
Miami on the waterfront.

Terry and her elderly mother picked out some condos in The Waterways
developments and the Chisms now called Aventura home as their friend Noriega
took up residence in myoid residence - The Miami
Metropolitan Correctional Center about 30 miles away from the Chisms. Eddie
said he and Terry were upset about the plight of their friend but realized they were
in no position to do anything to help him. They decided the best thing they could
do for him was invest the $10 Million which now became the seed capital for
American Financial Group.

Above is AFG ‘s Favorite client and former partner General Noriega

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At first Eddie said he searched for a business venture that could generate
substantial income and he experimented with a nutritional supplement business
briefly then switched to selling instructional self- help disks and booklets showing
people the benefits of accelerated mortgages. But until he ran into his old friend David
Siegel, he would remain as ignorant as I was about Reg S.

Only now that he was under the influence would Eddie admit that David Siegel
was the brains and financial wizard behind his operation and without him he'd be
lost. He would never make such an honest admission if he were sober, as he
always made himself the center of the AFG universe in the eyes of investors and
prospects. During my forty years of life, I have never met a person with a bigger
ego than Eddie Chism. For him to be happy he had to feel important and have the
assurance that others perceived him to be a successful man of wealth and
influence. Everything Eddie Chism did was to bolster this public image. While his
son and David drove the same Mercedes and Jaguar for more than a year, Eddie
Sr. made sure to change cars every three to six months, asked me to "borrow"
various yachts from old clients to impress clients and prospects, and even tried to
convince David to buy a company helicopter and jet. He was obsessed with
perpetuating this image and would admit to me this day at the bistro "We can't
sell shit without the right image Tony. If people see and smell success in us,
they will buy anything we're selling - bank on it".

I figured that since Eddie was in a talking mood he might not object too much if I asked
about Kimberly and his marriage. He just smiled at hearing her name and gave
me brief but candid explanation "Great piece of ass Tony - she makes me file like
I'm 18 again, know what I mean?" "Yeah, but Terry seems like such a sweetheart
Eddie". "It's not the same Tony. This may sound strange, but I love my wife. This
thing with Kimberly is just for sex. She's a FTF." He said as if I'd understand,
but I didn't. "What's an FTF Eddie?" "Friends that fuck - come on don't tell me you

514
don't have an FTF?" I shook my head and Eddie just started laughing. "Then we'll
have to find you one!" Actually I was quite content with my wife so I tried to change
the subject but Eddie wanted to make sure I understood his relationship with Kimberly,
a girl who was half his age. "Kimberly has a boyfriend you know, some stockbroker
named Billy, so don't think this is a one-way street I'm driving down" he quipped.
I let the conversation fade out and was about to bring up another subject when he
beat me to it.

"You have good ideas Tony, and I think by this time next year you'll be a very rich
man." "Sounds good to me Eddie." He ordered another rum and coke for both
of us and we made a toast to Regulation S. Only in America could such a law
exist.

On the way home that night Eddie still had a buzz going and he brought
up his pal Noriega again. "I feel badly for the guy Tony. You know he was
on the CIA payroll for years, and soon as he starts saying "no" once in a while,
they suddenly make him into a drug dealer." Eddie remarked. According to
Eddie the CIA had gotten some feedback that Noriega wanted all U.S. troops
out of Panama and that did not sit well with the Bush administration.
Furthermore, Noriega fully expected that America would honor agreements
signed by President Jimmy Carter on September 7 1977 to return ownership and
control of the Panama Canal back to Panama in
2,000 and was rejecting bribes to cancel the
agreement from the Bush administration. According
to Eddie, a man named Donald Gregg who was on
in one of his Noriega/Bush photos (pictured
here), offered Noriega $50 million cash and some
properties in California and Florida to annul the
Carter treaty and Noriega refused to sell out on

515
Panama. It was this refusal to cooperate that was the turning point for the
Bush/Noriega friendship that was more than a decade old.

On the way home that night Eddie still had a buzz going and he brought up
his pal Noriega again. "I feel badly for the guy Tony. You know he was on the CIA
payroll for years, and soon as he starts saying "no" once in a while, they suddenly
make him into a drug dealer." Eddie remarked. According to Eddie the CIA had gotten
some feedback that Noriega wanted all U.S. troops out of Panama and that did not
sit well with the Bush administration. "I'm working behind the scenes to get him
a new trial or an early release - the man is harmless". "Obviously someone in the
government doesn't agree with you Eddie". "Yeah, but you'd be amazed how people
can suddenly change their minds for a few bucks. Everyone has their price Tony
- remember that". I didn't ask him to elaborate, as I was too busy looking for
boating traffic. Navigating the Intercoastal at night on a weekend was a tedious
affair that required a good deal of concentration. Almost half of the boaters out
here were drinking all day as we were, and some forget to stop when they
board their boats. Fortunately Eddie had these killer halogen floodlights on
his boat that were as bright as a 747's landing lights.

After a few minutes of silence, I realized Eddie had dozed off and we made my
way back to Ft. Apache where I had to wake him or let him get eaten by mosquitoes.
As I cleaned out the boat I realized Eddie had drank twenty-two beers and two rum
and cokes today compared to my two beers and two rum and cokes. It was then
that I realized, Eddie was a much nicer guy when he was drunk than sober, which
is quite a switch for me. Most people I knew became obnoxious assholes when
they had too much to drink but Eddie just mellowed and talked more freely than
he ever would. He was no alcoholic mind you, and this would be only one of
two times that I'd see him so blitzed. The other would be the night Terry found out
about Kimberly.

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These boating outings served to bond our friendship and there soon weren't any
subject we couldn't talk about. But I soon came to learn that there were two Ed
Chisms - the Ed Chism that I and his other personal friends knew and the Ed
Chism that clients and prospects would get to see. With is employees he ruled
with such a stern hand that he was often called "Hitler" by Phillip. He was
clearly a perfectionist tha t aggravated everyone in the office without exception.
But when a client or prospect showed up for an appointment, he suddenly
became Prince Charming and doted on the guest ad nauseaum and even
treated the employees with a rare respect that would go out the door with the
guest. I recall after one particular meeting, David Siegel asked me for a
nomination form. Confused, I asked him what he was talking about. "I'm going to
nominate Eddie for a fucking Oscar!" Indeed Eddie was very good at what he did
best - impressing people. You either loved him or hated him, and I would
ultimately do both.

Despite my impressive title, I had absolutely no say or input into AFG's operational
or administrative policies, but neither did anyone else. Eddie called all the shots
and was. the epitome of a micro-manager. He would delegate a task to someone,
and no matter how simple it might be, dictate every phase of the chore and then
inspect the project along the way with the scrutiny of a drill sergeant. He had to see

517
every fax that came into the office no matter who it was sent to, and even went so
far as to tell Fulo what to write in the "memo" sections of company checks. It
is safe to say that nothing took place at AFG that did not have the input, consent, nor
blessings of Ed Chism. There was a reason for this I suppose. After all, Chism had
nothing better to do. All the real work was done by others and unless there were clients
or prospects to woo and court, Eddie really had nothing to do. Looking back I feel that
by involving himself in everyone's work he justified himself as the company's
President, again fulfilling that annoying need of his to be recognized by others as a
person of importance.

Eddie named his boat "Galapacos" which I thought was an odd name for a boat.
Working around boats for years in the Coast Guard and now at Champion Marine, I'd
seen plenty of creative and cute names but this one seemed so out of place. Fulo
would later tell me that the boat shared the name of one of AFG's many offshore bank
accounts. The Galapacos account was held in Nassau, Bahamas. AFG also had
accounts in Switzerland, Panama, Montreal, Cayman Islands, and London. Of
course they also had local accounts at Barnett Bank in various accounts for petty cash
and payroll purposes. (In 1997/98 I would provide the pertinent account numbers to
the FBI) But all the major bucks went off-shore where their profits would be both tax-
free and kept secret from any prying eyes of the IRS or government securities
regulators. They bought their stock shares and those of their clients through Bear
Stearns of New York and Dallas with the assistance of a young broker named
Todd Boyd. It was Phillip Siegel's job to handle these transactions as well as help
negotiate the discount rate of the Reg S shares. For investors and AFG, Reg
S shares had a very special allure - they were all unregistered shares. Sale
of unregistered shares do not have to be reported by public companies to the SEC,
IRS, or anyone else. For someone who wanted to launder monies, Reg S shares
provided the perfect vehicle to do so as I would ultimately witness first-hand with
the Noriega and many other AFG accounts.

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When it was time to sell the shares and collect a handsome profit, AFG turned North
to Canada and used either the services of Nesbitt Burns or Levesque in Montreal
and Toronto. The unregistered shares were sold not through AFG but other
accounts that could not be linked to AFG by anything more than an innocuous fax
number on a telephone bill. David Siegel handled all the selling, but Chism
himself directed where each and every nickel of proceeds and profit would be
destined. AFG had designed and refined what became a well-oiled Reg S
machine that would pump out millions of dollars a month in invisible shares and
money. Only the client and AFG would have paperwork documenting the
transactions. I was allowed to review the company files at will to get an good
understanding of the process. After all I could not be expected to sell something
I didn't understand.

Without going into protracted details here, consider that an investor gave AFG
$1 million to invest. That money would be sent off-shore by AGF and temporarily
parked to collect compound or simple interest while a suitable Reg S deal could
be located and negotiated. There was no shortage of companies looking for low
cost expansion capital. Most however were micro or small cap companies that few
people ever heard of. But so long as they were stable and generating revenue and
actively trading they were good enough for AFG. That $1 million would typically be
invested in two or three different deals to spread what little risk there actually was.
Typical discount rates averaged 15% which also represented the average quarterly
profit. So by year's end, a total gross profit of 60% could easily be achieved.

AFG would pay their client the promised 17.5% to 35%, a rate that varied
according the amount of the client's investment, an AFG published chart,
and the client's own negotiating skills. Only a handful of the shrewdest clients
collected more than 30% per annum. But the lion's share of profits, fell into the

519
coffers of AFG. The amazing thing of it all, was that it was all 100% technically legal.
But as time went on I'd learn that a legal profit of 25% to 30% was not enough for
Ed Chism and company. Obviously Eddie had downplayed his true income to me
in earlier conversations. To the IRS he reported earnings that were a mere fraction
of the millions they were making. Chism despised the IRS and would often insult
me for just working there years ago.

Reg S was originally designed by the Bush Administration for foreigners

only. After all the original intent was to lure foreign capital into U.S. markets, which
on the surface seemed like a noble effort. Others say Reg S was implemented
to help crooked politicians safely launder their payola behind the shield of secrecy
that Reg S provided. Either way, Reg S was totally off-limits to U.S. citizens - legally.
Tax- free profits of 25% per annum would make any American businessman or
investor drool uncontrollably with greed, and Ed Chism knew this better than
anyone else. And Chism was not a man that would turn investment money away
simply because it was born and grown in America. As time passed I
discovered he found a clever way to accommodate American investors, which
ultimately would represent about 60% of AFG's portfolio, and this is where Eddie
crossed the line. This would also be a turning point for myself as well as I
would ultimately decide, that despite the great income, I did not ever want to see
another prison cell for as long as I lived.

As I prepared to take out the full page ads in a handful of in flight magazines
with Avianca, Varig, Viasa, Avensa, KLM, Lufthansa, and Singapore Airlines, Eddie
called me into his office. "There is a small problem" he said. "How Small?" was
my reply. "Well, Eddie and I was thinking that the advertisements should not really
carry the name and contact information of American Financial Group." Puzzled,
I asked why. "Because these ads will generate thousands of inquiries and we do
not have the staff here to be dealing with dozens of curious callers every day who

520
hang up after we tell them there is a $100,000 minimum investment". To me that
was not a problem, we'd simply insert a line in the ad that said "$100,000 minimum
investment required" and made the suggestion to Eddie. "Still, we want to keep a
low profile and use another company to do all the qualifying and marketing.
Once we know we have a real player on the hook, you pass the line to me so to
speak, and I'll reel them in onto the AFG boat." He explained. His ostensible
explanation at that time didn't raise any warning flags for me, but I would later
conclude as David Siegel would confirm years later, that Eddie did not want to
run the risk of being charged with soliciting securities when he was not a
licensed broker, nor invite scrutiny of government regulators. Instead, he
persuaded me to put my company on the line as a "broker and marketing agent of
AFG".

My company was The Globus Group, and frankly it was set up as a consulting
company for selling yachts and other liquidation items like blue jeans, perfume,
and shrimp from Ecuador that my wife's family raised on their shrimp farms on
an international basis. Like I said, I didn't see anything sinister in Chism's plan
so I acquiesced and The Globus Group ran the ads. In our contract, it was agreed
that AFG would cover half the costs of all such advertising which was purchased
mostly on credit of 30-90 days net terms. A sample of the ads which ran in both
Spanish and English appears in the exhibits section at the end of this book under
Exhibit Q. Eddie also installed a special line in AFG's office which he dedicated
exclusively to handle the inquiries generated by these ads and we decided to make it
a fax line so we could determine both the location and perhaps qualifications of the
prospect, since most people faxed in their inquiries on company letterhead, and we
could then get basic information of the company from the Internet.

521
My resources only allowed me to run one ad per month in one magazine since
each full page color ad was about $25,000. I was directed to focus on South America
to take advantage of Chism's selling skills in his fluent Spanish.

When the faxes started coming in, at about 30 a day I would normally sort through
them and throw out any that came from a u.S. area code since I assumed they were
Americans traveling on business to South America and therefore would not be legally
qualified for Reg S. But one day after returning from Moe's Bagel Shop where I had
a quick lunch, I realized with surprise that my trash basket which was almost full in
the morning was now empty. This was very odd since the cleaning lady did not come
into the office until late night after we all went home for the evening. I looked at
everyone else's trashcans in the office and theirs' were not emptied. I didn't know
what to think but I had an incoming call which distracted me from further investigation.

But the following day my wife called me to tell me that her brother was angry with me
for not responding to his fax. "What fax?" I asked. She told me that her brother had
faxed me a price list and specification sheet for the shrimp I was trying to sell to Red
Lobster's buyers for her family. Apparently the fax was sent from her brother's
home late at night to the special fax number at AFG. I never saw it. I called my
brother-in-law in Ecuador and apologized and explained that it probably
didn't go through since I never received it. But he insisted he had confirmation and
even told me that it was received at 9:07 pm. There would be nobody in the
office at that time so surely I'd see the fax when I came to work in the morning,
since that fax machine was located right next to my own desk at AFG.

Recalling the previous trashcan incident, I was now growing suspicious and angry.
Someone in the office was going through my faxes. I decided I would question
everyone in the office until I got to the bottom of this since it ultimately cost me to
lose the side deal with Red Lobster who had wanted a quote by a deadline that I

522
missed because of the missing fax. We had a new girl in the office, Adriana
who would became our new receptionist so I asked her first. She knew nothing.
Phillip was next and he outright said it was probably Chism and relayed to me how
Chism even opened everyone's mail that came to the office!

I was shocked at the incredible invasion of privacy but Chism would later tell me
that "this is my office, paid for with my money, and anything and everything
that comes into this office is my business". With this new information from Phillip I
approached Kimberly just to see what she might say. "Hey Kimberly, did you
see any faxes on. my machine this morning?" "Yeah, there were four or five -
they're on Eddie's desk" she said so casually. "why are they on Eddie's desk and
not mine?" I asked. "Because Eddie told me to collect all the faxes every morning
and put them on his desk." She explained. Chism had not come into work yet so I
went to his desk and sure enough found a stack of faxes sitting there. I sorted
through them and took the ones that were ad inquiries and others addressed to me.
I was outraged at this secret screening process and would let Eddie know it.

But my confrontation with Eddie was not what I expected it to be. I thought he
would concede that I should see my own faxes first and then give him copies.
Not so. He blew up in a rage at me screaming that I was insolent for questioning his
authority as the President of the company and gave me that "my company"
speech, which apparently the others heard before as they would later recite parts of
it by heart for me. Since the office was small, and Eddie didn't bother to close
the door, everyone in the office heard our argument. I left the office early in protest
after I covertly unplugged all the fax machines in the office. I wanted to show Eddie
what it was like not getting his own faxes. I also took all my files of prospects with
me as I was not sure I'd be coming back and wasn't about to let such a dictator enjoy
the fruits of my labor. This would be the first of many blow-ups I would have for

523
Eddie and I would learn that only Phillip and I would have the balls to stand up to this
office bully who had everyone else in the office intimidated.

I shared this problem with my wife that evening and she grew nervous that I might
quit this new job and maybe not be able to get my old job back at
Champion Marine. What we didn't know was that the owner of Champion
Marine, Marc Osheroff was being indicted for securities fraud and Champion
Marine would soon be closing down. But what made me return to work at AFG the
next was simply my investment of time, money, and energy I put into the marketing
campaign which was easily about 300 hours and $3,000 in just my first two
months. I decided to go back and solve the fax problem by just forwarding the fax
phone line at AFG to my fax at home where I and only I would see my faxes. That's
when I discovered that over 50 faxes a day were coming in from our ads and most
of them were from Americans. Eddie had been cherry-picking my faxes for the
last two months, but according to him, he was just trashing all the American leads.
As time would tell this would prove to be a lie. He was secretly courting the
Americans to invest through off-shore Bahamian companies that he'd even set up
for them!

By the third month I had got to meet about two dozen of AFG's clients including
several from Venezuela, Colombia, and Panama including Carlos Castillo, Milton
Bello, and Gustavo Soto amongst others. In going through the AFG files, I
noticed quite a few past and present politicians, judges, and diplomats were
AFG clients including some Americans - who all had offshore companies. I knew
better than to question Chism about this as it would only invite yet another blow-
up and I was still trying to smooth things out over the fax incident.

One day after work I stayed late awaiting a conference call from Albert Hee on the
West Coast. Only Chism and I remained in the office when I heard a knock on the
door. I went to the reception area and found a Latino woman in her mid forties
524
asking for "Sr. Chism". I asked her for her name so I could advise Chism he had
a visitor. "Just tell him his 6:00 appointment is here" she told me in Spanish. I
relayed the message to Chism and he once again turned into Prince Charming to
greet his guest and ordered me to make some fresh coffee for both of them as if I
was a waiter too. I brought the two of them their coffee and Chism apparently wanted
to impress me yet again as he introduced me to "Dona Noriega" the wife of General
Noriega. I recall seeing her in a few of the photographs Chism had shown me
previously but today she look older, tired, and nowhere near as elegant as she was
in the gown and jewelry she was wearing in the photographs. After exchanging
some greetings I went back to my desk to wait for my conference call as I passed
the time by browsing the Internet.

Eddie walked over to my desk and handed me a Louie Vitton or Fendi (can't
remember which since they were both brown and tan) duffel bag that was stuffed with
$100 dollar bills, most in bundles that had a "Barclay's Bank" band on them and others
that just had rubber bands. "I'm finally getting that raise?" I jokingly asked, not knowing
what the money was for or why he was bringing it to me.
"Do me a favor and count this out for me. Make sure there's $100,000 here" he
remarked as he returned to his guest in his office where I heard an occasional laugh
or two. I complied with his request and counted out the money twice to be sure.
There was actually $110,000 in the bag and I assumed that Eddie was testing my
honesty for some reason.

There was also a manila envelope in the bag as well and my curiosity got the best
of me. It was not sealed so I looked inside of it and saw about thirty legal documents
all in Spanish and something that appeared to be a bond or stock certificate. There
was also a petition asking that Gen Noriega be given a new trial and copies of about
a dozen letters of businessmen and a Congressman suggesting the same. I was
about to read the Spanish certificates when Chism called for me. I put the cash and

525
the documents back in the bag and took everything to his office and handed it to him
with a little note that simply said
"There is $110,000 here". Chism took the bag, removed one of the bundles that he
put into his top right desk drawer and then handed the bag back to me with yet another
"request". Please carry this down to Dona Noreiga's car for her and see to it that she
is not followed when she leaves". I took this to mean that he wanted her to have an
escort down to her car since she had a lot of money and could easily be mugged, so
I did not object.

Down in the parking lot, she led me towards a silver BMW that had a younger, more
attractive woman in here early to mid twenties sitting behind the wheel waiting for
her. For some reason, I seem to recall the name Carmen. I opened the passenger
door for Mrs. Noriega and asked her if she wanted me to put the bag in the trunk for
her. She smiled and said that was a good idea. So the driver popped the trunk for me
and I placed the bag in the trunk whose other occupants were some sneakers, a
tennis racquet, and a box of files that had "Para Rubino"

(For Rubino) scribbled in marker on the side of it. They drove off without incident and
as per Chism's request I watched them drive down to the traffic light to make sure
they weren't being followed. They weren't.
I went back upstairs only to find that Chism was on my phone line and making a call
with a calling card. There were a dozen phones in the office and he had to use
mine? He knew I was awaiting an important call on that line and now I beginning
to think he was just trying to provoke an argument. But as I approached him he
waved me off and said he'd be off in less than two minutes, and thankfully he was.
I still have no idea who he was calling and why he used my line and not his own. My
conference call finally came and I had to explain the entire Reg S process to Albert
Hee and a friend he claimed was the financial planner for the President of Indonesia
or Malaysia. It's been a while and since my files were seized I can't recall
which. They were contemplating a $10 million investment with AFG. I noticed

526
Chism hovering around my desk during the call and I was growing annoyed to the
point where I had to pass him a note and tell him he was distracting me and to please
leave me alone to work. He simply tossed the note in the trash and moved from five
feet away from me to ten.

After I hung up with the parties Chism expected me to debrief him and I simply said
this was a preliminary call and the people just received their packages. I'd
follow-up in a week. To avoid further interrogation I changed the subject to Mrs.
Noriega and Chism began a ten minute speech about how he had more than
doubled Noriega's account in less than three years and that the Noriega family
generated over $5 million in referrals for him because he was such a trusted friend
and proficient money manager. I was dying to go home to play with my daughter
and did not have time for his self-glorification, so I abruptly ended the
conversation and headed home. After the fax incident with Chism, I had lost a
lot of respect for the man and our friendship began it's slow erosion that would end
over the next year.

I tried my own hand at the Reg S game since 10% of the profits were mine I was quite
motivated. My first deal was a small one of only $500,000 for a company owned by
a friend Elvin Feltner of New York, It was a small company trading on NASDAQ under
the symbol of AFTY called Affinity Communications which bought and brokered
television stations across America and then obtained cable access for their
programming. It was no Viacom but it taught me the ropes of Reg S and then Elvin
also did a Rule 144 loan deal with AFG a bit later.

I originally at Champion Marine met Elvin when he walked into the show room and
none of the sales people wanted to attend to him because he was dressed in

527
 clothes and shoes that were
probably 20 years out of style.
As the sales manager I had to
attend to him. The guy that
nobody wanted to take care of
eventually bought a
$300,000 yacht as a gift for
someone in the Phillipines..

Over the years Elvin and I

developed a good friendship
and I would often seek his
advice on matters. He was an
honest and ethical business
man who always complied
with the letter of the law.

Towards the end of 1994, I

wanted to follow-up on a lead
that Phillip had gotten from a friend at Bear Stearns in Texas named Todd Boyd. For
some reason Phillip was not following up on the lead and he would later tell me the
company was “too big for Reg S and they would not give much of a discount.” I asked
if I could give it a shot and he said “sure but it was a waste if time.” I decided to take
Phillip’s word for it and I crumpled the paper that bore the name and number of a
caller named “Ken Lay” with a Houston telephone number and threw it in the trash.
But two days later this fellow Lay called our office and I ended up taking the call. He
said he was the President of an energy company called “Enron”. He was a bit put off
that nobody had called him back so I explained that they probably would not be
interested in giving us a 15% discount on a block of shares so we assumed it would

528
be a waste of everyone’s time. But he replied “Our company doesn’t need or want a
Reg S deal – its for a company we are looking to acquire and the 15% would be
reasonable if you could do a block of $30 million.” He replied. Frankly AFG never did
any one single Reg S deal this large and the largest one to date was
$5 million. I told him I’d see if we could swing it and to give me a call after I checked
with our CFO.

I mentioned the deal to David and I could tell he was more than a bit skeptical, but
he said “Knock yourself out kid, but it sounds like bullshit to me.” David assured me
he could find a player for $10 million but not for anything bigger, So when Lay called
back I told him that we could handle a $10 million Reg S and Ken dropped the
discount rate to 10% accordingly, but he sweetened the deal. He proposed a
guaranteed buy-back of the shares after 180 days with a guaranteed ROI of 12%.
Because my notes were stolen from me by the Feds, I can only recall that the
company involved had the word “Portland” in its name. Ken called me back on a
conference call about 2-3 days later with his pal from Portland, whose name I cannot
recall after all these years, and as I said, I lost my notes. I mentioned that this was a
rather bizarre Reg S deal they were proposing, and I guess they sensed

I might not pursue the deal so Lay explained it this way to me…”We want to acquire
Portland but we need a more appealing NAV and offset some of their liabilities so I
can sell this deal to my shareholders. We can do three $10 million Reg S deals over
the next year and give you the buy back guarantee on all three deals.” This deal
sounded really fishy to me but I could find nothing negative on Enron or this Portland
company so I kept listening. Ken even suggested that he could arrange some “nice
warrants” for me and even pay our fee in Portland shares since the acquisition “would
make the share fly”. I must admit this deal was getting me aroused. It was simply
too good to be true. It then dawned on me that this might be some SEC/FBI sting
operation and if I said yes to the warrants or shares, it might be construed as “insider
trading.” I began to get a little paranoid.

529
My paranoia was tweaked when I received a
call from someone claiming to be an Enron
executive. I would later discover that the call
came from Cliff Baxter, a senior VP at Enron.
He “warned” me not to entertain the deal with
Lay since I was unaware of their real
intentions and I might be looked upon as an
“accomplice”. I told Baxter to “get specific or say goodbye.” He said he was bound
by non-disclosure agreements but that if this deal went down he would be forced to
notify the SEC and I would be listed as a witness for sure. Why was this guy trying to
kill their own deal? I thought to myself. He was clearly sincere and torn with

DUE TO THREATS MADE AGAINST MY FAMILY 2

PAGES HAVE BEEN WITHELD UNTIL MY SITUATION IS

RESOLVED AND MY FAMILY’S SAFETY IS

GUARANTEED.

By now one of our news releases was published in the Arab News and quite a few
Latin American newspapers espousing the many benefits of Reg S investments.
Now the inquiries came fast and furious and over the next few months, I would
have generated 389 qualified leads for American Financial Group including some
of the wealthiest people and even an Austrian Bank and the Finance Minister of
Bolivia and a group of Saudis that would ultimately end both my employment
and friendship with AFG and Ed Chism.

Whenever Eddie got up and closed the door to his office it was because he was either
going to make or receive a confidential phone call that he insisted would be absolutely

530
private. Eddie was an extremely punctual guy but one day he was late coming back
to the office and his private line was ringing off the hook. It was from

202-456-3345 and I made the mistake to answer this call. When I said “hello” I just
heard the following “Just listen and don’t ask any questions. You need to liquidate
Katherine and Manny’s accounts immediately and more are likely soon. I’ll call you
back by next Monday and do not make any more calls to Don, he is hot right now”
Whoever the caller was he obviously assumed I was Eddie since nobody else dared
to answer his private line which had a special ring tone. When Eddie came back to
the office, I gave him the message and he went ballistic that I answer his phone and
warned me that if I ever did that again I would be fired on the spot. I tried to justify my
actions by saying anyone who would ring 20 times must have an urgent call and

I didn’t want him to look bad to a client. It didn’t work. Eddie was fuming mad.

My first client recruited for AFG was Michelle and Patrick McGenney and her
husband from "Mexico" as Chism would insist I say, after I learned they were
really from the Dallas, area and bonafide U.S. citizens that owned an advertising
agency. They originally told me they were foreigners (since our advertisement clearly
said the program was not available to U.S. citizens) but after asking to have an
information package sent to a Texas address they claimed to be "visiting" I grew
suspicious and shared my concerns with Chism. "Don't worry, I'll handle
this, you keep fishing". I later learned that the McGenneys became an AFG
client when Chism handed me my first commission check for some $9,000 and
change ($10,000 less taxes). I didn't say anything at first but I stayed late one
night to go through the McGeneny file, and sure enough they were U.S. citizens
and Chism had opened up an off-shore IBC for them in the Bahamas through his
cousin Juan David Morgan (of Morgan & Morgan Trust) and a long time friend
(Eduardo Garay of Morymor Trust) called Karma Ltd. I was just made a passive
party to a criminal act, and I was angry. Chism obviously didn't care about the
law nor the consequences of it. Having spent 38 months in prison, I did. I

531
confronted him the next day, and Chism showed me come correspondence
from McGenney that showed a return address in Mexico which he said was good
enough for him and his "compliance department". His compliance department was
his son. Because I had already deposited the check and did not want more legal
problems of my own, I remained quiet for now. But within a year I would report this
and a great deal more to both the FBI Agent Maury Berthon and James Stanley
of the Miami Better Business Bureau. Stanley would be the one to recommend
that I notify the FBI since he said he could not do much more than register a complaint.

My next big hit came from Canada through some Colombians who had a local

Miami financial advisor. The Sanchez family and their financial advisor Richard
Callahan of Coral Gables had received our package and were coming in for their
preliminary meeting. It all went very well and Prince Charming took us all to
dinner at Turnberry where he spared no expense. The Sanchez family
was looking to invest between $2 to $7 million per month with AFG and
everyone was excited especially me. Plans were made for a second all-day
meeting to be held at Fisher Island and Chism would invite his off-shore team of
Morgan and Garay and the entire office staff less the receptionist.

It was a catered affair held on May 17,1995. (See Exhibit R) There was no shortage
of food and drink and again all went very well. Fulo shared some concerns with me
about the origin of funds since they were dealing with

532
Colombians who after all had a notorious reputation in Florida for money
laundering. But as soon as Fulo openly breached the subject, Chsim Sr. cut him
off, pulled him aside and reamed him out saying he was showing "bad manners"
and that he himself would handle that sensitive issue. Whether he did or not is
anyone's guess. I never heard the matter discussed again although Callahan,
a respectable Wharton graduate assured me all was kosher. It appeared
the deal was sealed. However, a month later when I heard no news I asked David
for an update. He told me the deal fell apart but would not tell me why. I called
Callahan who wasted no time in telling me that they did some due diligence checks
on both Siegel and Chism and
discovered that David had his
broker's license revoked a few
years back for a $17,000 stock
fraud. This came as a shock to
me because David had always
been the one most concerned
about legal matters and
compliance in the office, even
joining my protest on the
McGenney deal. I confirmed
the situation with Mr. Sanchez
himself who assured me he did
hold the information against
me or Richard.

Vince Martinelli, Otto Neustadtl, and

Juan David Morgan, was Chism’s cousin and Managing
Director of Morgan & Moragn which managed all the 389 Basuly Lieberman were my next
of our clients secret Panama banks accounts including
for the Bush family, three federal judges, John Ashcroft, recruits which came my way through
Robert Mueller a few federal judges etc. all using alias
names, fake passports, and combinations of IBCs, brokers of mine including Dr. Erling
Trusts, and Holding Companies off-shore.
Pederson who I had known since 1992 from the Earthguard project. Chism told
us they invested only $100,000 but we'd later learn it was several million dollars.
Martinelli I would later learned brought in an Austrian bank and a number of other
clients that I was to be paid a split-
commission with Martinelli. But
the big score came when Pederson
called to say that some Saudi
bankers and businessmen were
interested in investing $50 to $100
million dollars. I thought he was
exaggerating at first but when I got a
call from Tom McCormick and Zuhair
Sindi of Dhahran I realized he
wasn't. Tom was an American
engineer working under contract in Tom McCormick a Fort Lauderdale engineer
working in Saudi introduced me to a dozen Sudi
Saudi Arabia whose home and family investors and even more responded to my
article in the Arab Times.
is in Fort Lauderdale. Through his
high level work he befriended some of the wealthiest Saudis including one or two
within the Royal family, but most were just successful businessmen like
Sulieman Alsuhaimi who claimed he built one third of all the highways in Saudi
Arabia. Then there was Michele Yagchi a Swiss banker and financial advisor to
a number of Saudis, and Tarek al-Tamini, Mohamed Fadaili, Farid Zauok,
Bashir and Mohamed Attef amongst others. To make a long story short, they all
saw the Arab News article and wanted to participate. Tom McCormick, his son
Mark, and Dr. Pederson would open a Saudi franchise originally called AI-
Turki Development Company, but later changed to SAIC Ltd. of Globus/AFG so to
speak and reap a nice slice of he profits, as would I for discovering this gold
mine for AFG. Tom’s plan was to use Sulieman as a demo account and once he
realized his 20% returns, he would ask Suliemann to introduce AFG to the third

534
wealthiest family in Saudi Arabia – the Bin Laden family. I would also approach Prince
Bandar through my good friend in Middleburg Heights, Ohio, Tom Coury who had
built a friendship with Bandar over the years. But Chism had some plans of his
own.

Before we could meet with the Saudis however, Tom asked me for a private meeting at
his waterfront home in Ft. Lauderdale which I attended on a Saturday morning at his
patio table over a cup of coffee. It seem that Tom saw right through Eddie and didn't much
like him. But he admitted to me that his wife Nucia had met Stella Siegel as some social
events and they were proceeding because of the assurances that the Siegels were
well respected in social circles. He also asked for my personal word that I would look
after his son Mark and teach all that he needed to know about Reg S so that the two them
would not get "embarrassed or screwed". That I gladly agreed to. But there was a problem
and I could tell that Tom was uneasy discussing it. Finally he just spit it out. "All these
Saudis are Muslims you know and David is a Jew". This was the last thing I expected to
hear from Tom. “Is this really a problem when it comes to making money?" I asked. "Well it
could be Tony and here's why ... some of these guys truly believe it is there moral obligation
and religious duty to support groups like the PLO, and if David learns of this he might try
to fuck over my friends. What do you think?" I told Tom what I still believe today "David is not
a very political person and I really don't know how devout a Jew he really is." We agreed that
the only way to resolve the matter would be to ask David up front if religious difference would
pose a problem for him. As it turned out, it didn't so long as they knew how to send a bank
wire.

But as I said, Eddie had some plans of his own. Plans which he didn't bother to share
with us after Tom McCormick suddenly fell ill and died with a rare brain cancer in less
than 3 months. I was at the McCormick residence after the funeral with Tom's wife
Nucia and Mark and his brother when Zuhair Sindi called to express his

535
condolences to Mark. Afterwards I was passed the phone to say "hello" and I
learned that not even 48 hours after Tom died, Chism had called him to ensure
that their investment plans had not changed because of Tom's sudden death. I
was now losing what little trust a nd res pec t I had left for Chism but I bit my lip - hard.

The following week when I went to the office, I was informed that AFG needed more
office space and that Globus and I should get another office space in the building
and that AFG would pay for it. The story he gave me was that he was going to hire
some in-house brokers to work the phones searching out more Reg S deals and
something new they were starting up - Rule 144 loans. Loaning money
secured by restricted shares. As it turned out, I leased the office right below
Chism's on the fifth floor and after I signed the lease I learned that Chism now
was only willing to pay half of the $1,200 rent. But I still continued to spend at
least three hours a day upstairs and I began noticing that the office staff was
becoming secretive with me and that the filing cabinets were now locked and had
to be opened by Kimberly and only after Chism approved a "request". It didn't take
long for me to figure out that something was going on that they didn't want me
to know about.

I inquired about the Saudi deal and again Chism downplayed the entire
thing saying only that he expected to get a $100,000 investment from Zuhair
Sindi but not much else since Tom died. I said nothing, I was too busy preparing
for a meeting with Alfredo Frolich and his partner who responded to one of our
ads and would be arriving in fifteen minutes. I had to get Chism's "props" ready
including his Bible that he'd use to swear on that he'd personally reimburse
any investor who ever lost a dime because of him.

I then received what I thought to be a reasonable letter from a prospect named

Nicholas Vertodoulos that raised numerous points and questions about AFG
and stated that if we could sufficiently calm his fears with answers, he would
536
invest $1 million with AFG. But after reading Chism's reply to Vertodoulos,
I myself began to grow suspicious that something just wasn't right at AFG (See
exhibit S)

Chism told me not to schedule any prospect meetings for May 5th through May
10th because he and Siegel had to go to New York "to meet with some clients and
iron out some problems". I agreed and wished him a successful trip. But as fate
would have it, I was in AFG's office on May 6th when a frantic call from Stella Siegel
came in and I took the call. "Oh my God, please tell me you've heard from David?"
she pleaded. Sensing the pure panic I had to ask her what was wrong. "Didn't you
see the news - some terrorists bombed the American compound in Dharan!" she
exclaimed "Yes Stella, but what does that have to do with David". "I can't reach him,
all the lines are busy!" By now I deduced that Chism and Siegel were not in New
York but Dharan meeting with my Saudi prospects behind my back. I did not let on to
Stella how I was betrayed, but merely asked her what number she had for David. She
gave me the number and I assured her that I would find out what happened to them
and call her back. Sure enough the number she gave me was continuously busy, so I
decided to call some numbers I had for Zuhair, since I assumed he had to be with
them. Sure enough, when I got through to Zuhair, I learned both Chism and Siegel
were with him and some other Saudis having dinner.

I asked to speak with David since I would have nothing nice to say to Chism.

When David came on line I merely asked "How's the weather in New York
David?" to which he quietly replied, "I'll explain it all to you when we get back. This
wasn't my idea." I was sure of that and advised David to call his wife before she
had a heart attack. Furious, I threw the phone clear across the office and went home.
Chism could no longer be trusted at all and he wasn't. His signature on my "Mutual

537
Non-Circumvention Agreement" (See exhibit T) and our contract was now
worthless to me.

AFG was laundering funds for Saudi Clients who may have funded this
bombing at Khobar Towers. Chism and Siegel were only a mile away from
this attack the day it occurred in May of 1995. The key investor was personal
friends with the Bin Laden family.

Within three days after returning from AFG a new electronic combination
lock had been installed on AFG's office entrance and when I asked Kimberly
for the combination she told me only to "talk with Eddie". By now Eddie knew I
had stumbled upon their ruse and was pissed. Putting the lock on the door just
added fuel to the fire especially when he said I could not have the combination,
but that Kimberley or Adriana would buzz me in whenever I needed. His reasons
were bullshit (new clients paranoid about privacy and confidentiality insisted that only
David and Eddie had access to the files) but what could I do? "Which new clients
Eddie - my Saudis?"

538
We just exchanged glares before I went to speak with David and told him how badly
disappointed I was in him for going along with Eddie's ploy. David assured me that no
matter how much the Saudis invested, he personally would make sure that I got paid every
dime owed to me and that in most probability, I would never have to work again and could
retire to a comfortable life on the commission I would make. I decided to notify Dr. Pederson
and Mark McCormick of the secret Saudi trip. Mark already knew but Pederson did not.
Apparently only Pederson and I would be cut out of the loop since these were Tom
Cormick's personal friends and Mark was his heir. Mark also assured me that
he'd keep me posted of developments even if Chism did not. I could believe Mark, a
real decent guy who proved himself to be honorable with another business transaction
with my associate Tom Coury who pursued an oil deal with Mark.

In a feeble effort to patch things up, Chism invited me to go to the Lipton Tennis
tournament with him and Terry at Key Biscayne and I accepted. We watched three
matches and then we had dinner at Stefanos. Eddie assured me that the Saudis
insisted on secrecy and that I was still very much a part of the deal and would make
millions if and when the money rolled in. "How much are they investing Eddie?" I
asked. "$5 million the first year on a trial basis". I could always tell when Eddie lied
to me because he would look down, away, or cover his mouth with papers or a
napkin like he was doing now." "Great" I said. Terry looked at me with eyes that
told the truth but said "Don't worryTony, everything will be alright - I didn't marry a
dishonest man". Deep inside I wanted to set her straight and let her know just
how "honest" he had been about Kimberly, but I remained quiet. I decided I had
no choice but to stay quiet for now and let the Saudi situation play itself out.

Some strange things began happening around September/October of 1996, two

months before I would formally resign from my affiliation with AFG. First Eddie
asked me to hand deliver a package to Atty. Frank Rubino's office located in

539
downtown Miami. He gave me emphatic and specific instructions to give it only to
Frank Rubino himself even if I had to wait all day long for him. It was a large stuffed
envelope and it was closed with only a metal clasp. After spending ten minutes
looking for a parking space I just had to see what was in the package. What could be
so important that had to be handdelivered to only a lawyer - Noriega's lawyer
at that. I looked inside and found maybe 100 pages of that petition seeking a
new trial, some stock certificates, a newspaper clipping from a Panama
newspaper, some sort of land contract assigning a deed of some property in
Panama and $10,000 in cash. I went upstairs to Rubino's office and was told
that he just got back from court and was in a meeting. I explained that I came from
Ed Chism's office with orders to hand deliver it to Rubino directly. The girl went into
his office and soon after Rubino appeared at the door with a sandwich in one hand
and told me to just give it to his assistant and he'd look at it after lunch. So I
moistened the flap and sealed it closed before giving it to the girl and I left.

One day in 1995 Eddie’s private phone line was ringing continuously and only Phillip
and I were in the office, and he was busy on the phone with Todd Boyd from Bear
Stearns trying to solve a complicated problem. Getting tired of hearing the phone ring
and ring, perhaps 20 times, I walked into Eddie’s office and saw it was from the 202-
456-3345 number. Breaking Eddie’s rule about touching his phone, I answered it. As
soon as I said “Hello” the caller must have assumed I was Eddie because he did not
ask my identity and only spoke three sentences… “Don says the Harris and Noriega
accounts have to be closed and liquidated immediately. Be sure to shred any and all
documents, and delete all references to either from your hard drive. We will handle
the email logs from here. Do you understand?” I simply replied “Yes” and he hung up.
I made a huge mistake in relaying this message to Eddie who went into a rage about
me answering his phone. By now I was used to his explosive temper so by the end
of the day I had blown it off.

540
It was shortly thereafter that Terry found out about Kimberly and the proverbial
shit hit the fan. I didn't know it but fully one-fourth of AFG's clients were close
friends of Terry and her mother. Even after Kimberly was
terminated at the office Terry still threatened a divorce and stake a claim to her half
of Eddie's AFG empire. She was still polite but nowhere as nice to the AFG
office staff who she assumed had to know what was going on. Indeed, the Chism
marriage seemed doomed. That night I spotted Eddie's white Mercedes at a local
bar on Biscayne Blvd. It was not like him to patronize a public bar that didn't require
a membership. I pulled in for a minute originally to remind him that "I told you so",
but after I saw how drunk he was, I somehow still felt sad for the man. "You fucked
up Eddie" I said as I approached him at the bar. "Yes I did Captain" he said "I surely
did". Eddie was too drunk to carry on a coherent conversation so I left him there
after he refused a ride home saying "I don't have a home anymore". I assume
he stayed at the condo he rented at Mystic Pointe, the little waterfront hideout
he used for his sexual conquests. Somehow the Chisms patched things up,
perhaps because of legal matters brewing in Panama that required a united front
form them. Who knows. All I can say is that Terry was a very warm, loving, and
decent woman who deserved a whole lot better than Eddie. But frankly, many
might say the same about my own wife who went to hell and back because of me.

I got one or two more clients for AFG but my heart was no longer in it. I felt truly
betrayed by Chism and was now at his mercy to get paid what was really owed to
me. I no longer had free access to the files and would actually have to steal
Kimberly's file cabinet key to make a copy during a lunch break. I felt compelled to
know just how much he was cheating me. Around this time the Venezuelan clients
realized Eddie had been underreporting their earnings and they decided to pull
their money out. In an effort to salvage the situation, Eddie offered to make them
partners in a South American AFG operation and they bought into it, opening

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their own office on two or three floors up in the same building. Milton Bello,
Gustavo Soto, Carlos Mijares, and Alfredo Ojeda were the principals of the new
operation.

The presidential elections were coming up and Chism was determined to get
Noriega a new trial or "time served". I was hanging out upstairs with David Siegel
who was teaching me the basics of their new 144 Loan program so that I would
be knowledgeable enough to sell it to prospects. David usually stayed at the office
later than everyone else, but tonight he had promised to take Stella to some social
event and he cut our meeting short and left. I went over to say good night to Chism
who I noticed was busy counting out cash on his desktop - a lot of it. "Hey Tony,
give me a hand here would you?" I asked myself if he was counting out my
commission but I knew better than to ask. "What's up?" I asked. I'm running
late and need to count out twenty-five bundles of $10,000 each." What is all this?"
I asked. "Let's just say my insurance premium" he explained. "What are you talking
about Eddie?" "This is insurance that the good general gets his new trial or
time served". "Are you out of your mind Eddie? You can't bribe a federal judge!
Look what happened to Hastings a few years ago! Maybe a state judge but. ..
" he cut me off with the palms of his hand and said "This isn't a bribe Tony, this is a
campaign contribution, and you need to know that in the eyes of dear Lady
Justice, there is a difference." Indeed there was, one was legal and the or not, even
though they would often serve the same purpose. "Who are you picking to win, place,
and show?" I asked knowing that Senator Dole's chances since recent polls were
giving him odds of slim to none. "Actually, I'm playing both sides of the fence so I
can't lose on this horse race." indicating he already paid his premiums to the other
jockeys and this $250,000 was destined for the GOP. "But why waste your money
on Dole?" I asked. "I'm not giving the money to Dole, it's going to the Bush people,
it's their people who still control the Justice Department". I had no idea what Bush he
was referring to since Jeb Bush was running for governor and that was the only Bush
candidate I knew of at the time. I didn't ask for an explanation and got none. But I did
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remind Chism that there was a legal limit of $100,000 on corporate campaign
contributions. "Legally this is not coming from AFG Tony, that's why I need the twenty
five bundles. As I helped him count out the money, I noticed that he had letters
already prepared and signed by different people from throughout Latin America and
some were local Miami residents as well judging from the addresses.

Whether these people were real or fictional I still don't know. For all I know, even if
these people were real, it didn't mean they knew they had become political
sponsors. After we counted out the money Chism stuffed the bundles into an
assortment of different envelopes with the letters, sealed them with a sponge (he
would die before he ever licked an envelope) and neatly put them into a Burdines
shopping bag which he then attempted to hand to me. "I need you to take this to a
woman up in Boca Raton named Kathryn Harris. I'll have her call you with directions
on your cell." I was not going to be a part of this and I weaseled my way out of the
task. "I can't Eddie, I have to pick up my inlaws at the airport". It was a lie, but I
was just not going to let myself get involved in Eddie's political ploys. He offered
me $300 and then $500 to make the short trip but I finally just had to say "No". Not
many people said "no" to Ed Chism and although I could tell he was steamed, he
just nodded and said "Okay, I'll just have to miss my tennis match tonight". I went
home to my wife and daughter to have dinner with them whose company I recently
had been taking for granted. I thought they wanted the better life that AFG would
afford us, but all they really wanted was more time with me. Hindsight is always
20/20 I guess.

Only after Chism dumped Kimberly for a "new and improved" sex toy did AFG phone
bills suddenly show up in my mailbox two or three days after I got a late night call
from a girl who told me that "Eddie fucked you out of more than $2 million in
commissions on the Saudi deal" and promised me proof was coming in the mail.

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I always assumed it was Kimberly who called but I have no way of knowing. She
got engaged to her fiance Billy and I have not heard from nor seen her since.
David once told me she was doing Internet porn with Rory Shur's Metro
entertainment company that was also in the same building, but with his wild sense
of humor that could have been a joke. We once had to take a client to Solid Gold, a
local strip joint for some drinks, and when one of the dancers gave David a lap
dance, his only comment came when the girl had her tanned ass swaying an inch
from his face, "Pleas don't fart". Like I said the ultimate stoic David definitely
had his moments. Sure enough the phone bills (See exhibit U) revealed over a
hundred calls to Saudi Arabia during the last three months alone to various
numbers which I soon matched up with the business cards I had from the Saudis
(See exhibit V).

I went to see a lawyer. I was not going to let myself get screwed out of this kind of
money especially after Chism had yet to pay his half of a huge advertising bill
that almost caused foreclosure on our condo and put me in bankruptcy.
Arnoldo Velez was the lawyer I turned to for help. He told me I would need
more proof and statements from witnesses but was so convinced I had a case
that he would take on the case for a 30% cut of the settlement. Somehow Chism
got wind that I was speaking with lawyers and that mystery would be solved
when I later discovered a bug in my office the day I moved out of the Barnett
Bank bldg. For new digs on Brickell Avenue, a more affordable executive
suite arrangement at 1221 Brickell. Chism decided to sue me first, as David
would later explain, "as a pre-emptive strike designed to deter me from suing
him". He would also put one of the girls in the office (Adriana) up to saying that I
was sexually harassing her simply because I visited her in the hospital after a
suicide attempt/car crash. I had no yearnings for this girl whatsoever, but
only felt compassion for her after she would call the office and tell everyone how
lonely and depressed she was and beg for a visit since her entire family lived

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in Peru. Those accusations eventually evaporated when Adriana admitted that
Eddie had prepared and asked her to sign a statement against me. But I learned
that Chism hired a former Secret Service agent (Bill Ackerman) who had the office
next door to me, to dig up dirt on me. It was probably Bill who planted the
microphone in my office through the pop-up ceiling tiles. Maybe Chism sensed
that I would not stop with a law suit. He was right. I didn't.

On or about the first week of December I placed a call to the Miami Better
Business Bureau to see 1) what information they had on AFG, and 2) to inquire
about making a complaint. I spoke with a Mr. James Stanley who I seem to
recall was a supervisor. He stated that AFG was not a BBB member and
therefore they had no information on the company at all. He advised me that
I would have to submit any complaint in writing in order to achieve anything.
On December 11th , I prepared this complaint but did not mail it in right away since
I had reservations if they could really do anything to help me. I knew a formal
complaint would kill any chance I had of getting paid by Chism. But my gut instinct
told me I had to get away from AFG and Ed Chism before I went broke or ended up
in legal problems because of what he was doing. Besides, the public needed to
be warned about this man somehow. On December 15th, 1996 I handed David
and Eddie each copies of my letter of resignation. (See Exhibit W) After waiting two
weeks for my last commission checks that were promised me, they did not arrive
and my demand for payment by registered mail was "Returned To Sender -
Unclaimed".

After I resigned, I mailed in my complaint to the Better Business Bureau but only
received a form letter thanking me for the notification and that they had no files on
AFG. called the Better Business Bureau in Miami and tried to explain my situation
but I was advised that a written complaint was needed. I called Mr. Stanley back

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in follow-up but he merely told me that since AFG was not a member of the BBB, all
they could do was register a complaint. He further suggested that I might consider
contact the FBI, FTC, or SEC which had more authority to investigate matters like
mine.

Before doing so I got a call from Chism who told me he had my check and to come
pick it up. Did he get correspondence from the BBB because of my complaint or was
he worried about Arnoldo's law suit? I still don't know. But sure enough he had a check
for me, but it was for $200,000, less than one-tenth of what he owed me. And in
small printing on the back of the check was a statement that said "Endorsement and/or
negotiation of this financial instrument constitutes full and final settlement of any and
all outstanding commissions, debts, or other moneys due and outstanding". I
immediately took out my pen and drew a big "X" right through the disclaimer at which
point Eddie exploded, grabbed the check back out of my hand and snarled "Fine, you'll
never see another penny from me!" About a month later, after much deliberation, I
decided I might at least be able to collect my money in the form of a reward or govt.
seizure since Arnoldo's law suit was getting bogged down. I called the FBI and within
a day or two, special Agent Maury Berthon introduced himself to me discreetly
with his credentials at my office. We sat down for a chat that lasted almost 3 hours.
Over the next two weeks I gave Berthon a box of what he would call “actionable
evidence” in his report and in his updates to me. In that box of documents were 6
months of AFG phone bills showing many calls and faxes to federal officials, offshore-
banks, and high profile clients in Silver Springs, Bethesda, Falls Church, Washington
D.C. Georgetown, Falls Church, McClean, London, Manhattan, and even one number
at the White House 202-456-3345 which was a relay number to send messages to a
fellow named Donald Gregg. There were also a few incoming collect calls from the
Metropolitan Correctional Center in Miami from General Manuel Noriega’s segregation
unit. I also provided a complete client list and sample files to show the manner in which
moneys were laundered and moved. There was absolutely no doubt in Berthon’s mind
at the time that AFG would be going down in flames soon, and he assured me I would
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get the reward moneys for reporting them. The next time I would talk with Berthon,
about 2 months later, he was in New Orleans and told me he was transferred and
someone at the DoJ was “reviewing” the AFG case in Washington – i.e. someone in
Washington was going to prolong a “review” and then sweep it under the carpet once
they traced the telephone numbers. Donald Gregg by the way is a former CIA station
chief from Vietnam and according to General Russell Bowen USA, was George H.
Bush’s right hand man and according to Ed Chism was Bush’s unofficial “business
manager” . Eddie also had several U.S. federal judges as clients as well Finta and I
assume Nelson since Steve was always his proxy as confirmed by the $16 million
cash drop-off I witnessed. How much of this information was purged from FBI files
would be interesting to know.

I also informed Berthon how Chism had such an insatiable greed that he would even
skim from his own clients since he knew most of them would never alert any law
enforcement agency, nor make a court claim lest they draw attention to themselves
for tax evasion. If Chism was cheating his own help, I could only imagine what he
was doing to the investors. Were the Venezuelans, the only ones who caught him
in the act? If he was skimming his American investors as well, they would not be
able to file any complaints. To do so would only invite legal prosecution upon
themselves for tax evasion since Reg S was off-limits to Americans.

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At best their only recourse would be to close their account with AFG and hope
Chism would pay them all that was due to them. But as Chism once said himself,
"When they're earning over a 20% a year with us, would they really make a stink
if they only made 22% this quarter instead of 25%?" He had a point. By skimming
one or two points off of even half of AFG accounts one out of every three or four
quarters, he could easily steal a few million dollars a year. I recall that one
woman called to report the "mistake" on her statement. I was transferred the
call only because Eddie had been tied up on a conference call, Fulo was out, and
she demanded to speak with someone. Since I was the only one left who spoke
Spanish. I got the call. I twice got to speak directly with Noriega by default as well.
I took all her information and gave it to Eddie when he was free. I recall how
outraged he became that some client had "the audacity" to question his accounting.
He reached for the phone, and with all his usual grace and charm called the
woman back and flatly told her there was no mistake, earnings were down last
quarter, and if she was unhappy she could take her account elsewhere and earn
9% - 15% a year in a terse conversation that lasted less than two minutes. If nothing
else, Ed Chism had balls. In his mind, he was “untouchable” because of his many DOJ
cronies who mostly were federal judges or GS-16-18 executives in D.C. and Florida.

548
About this time I got an early morning call around 2 am in the morning and it was Eddie
who was furious and sounded as if he was drinking. He claimed one of his old friends
from the Justice Department tipped him off he was under investigation by the FBI. His
words tome were very direct “Tony, if you drag my cousin or my wife into this mess,
your daughter will vanish from the face of this Earth and you’ll spend the rest of your
life in a wheelechair!” Shocked and angry, I just told him, “just pay me what is rightfully
owed to me and we won’t have any problems Eddie. Good night”.

I had given Special Agent Maury Berthon copies of all 389 AFG clients including the 87
U.S. and Canadian government officials who we facilitated with offshore entities and
Panama bank accounts. I also gave him three months of phone bills for all three of AFG
telephone numbers including the fax line (305) 931-8775 and 931--8779 which clearly
proved the links to our clients, Bear Stearns, Levesque, Nesbitt Burns, HSBC, Paribas
Bank, Morgan & Morgan, MoryMor Trust, etc..

Berthon assured me that there was surely sufficient evidence to shut the company down,
make arrests and obtain quick convictions. Instead Berthon was transferred suddenly to
New Orleans, and the AFG investigation was under “Director’s Review: for 5 years. Only
after all but one government officials transferred their funds out of AFG was the SEC
directed to shut the company down in 2002.

Supposedly, $87 million went missing, but when I offered to show the SEC and OSC
where to find it for the standard 10% reward money, they simply ignored meand let Chism
serve a whopping 8 months in a prison camp where he played tennis and mini-golf every
day and keep his third of the money. For updates, search online “Bruce Gorcyca Wall
Street Crimes”.

"The difference between greed and ambition is

only a matter of perception"
- John D. Rockefeller

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BTW… Elvin Feltner was an AFG client and a friend of mine
for 12 years, wrote the below sworn statement, owned 3
television stations, yet the FBI claimed he did not exist since he
was willing totestify on my behalf! Both the SEC and FBI
received his statement and those of 6 alibi witnesses, yet not a
singleone of them were ever contacted much less interviewed.

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 One of hundreds of Canadian AFG Victims – Louis Sapi
He lost $400,000 to AFG because of DOJ inaction

© Copyright 1995-2014 By Bruce A. Gorcyca – All Rights Reserved

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