throat. 'This is a bit irregular.' 'So was the run, chummer,' Jason said. 'You ain't got problems so long as you play clean, Johnson. We got your warm body for you and want our nuyen.' Glover stared at Jason for a moment, then turned his head to look at Sam. 'Am I dealing with a new principal?'
'No, you're not,' Sam replied firmly. 'But he is right. The situation was not as you led us to believe. I would like an explanation.'
'I just want the creds,' Jason said.
The look Glover gave him spoke volumes about the trials of dealing with the lower classes. With slow deliberation to show that he was not reaching for a weapon, Glover slid his hand into his jacket and removed a credstick. It was unmarked by bank seals or the banding of a certified stick. 'There is no intent to defraud you. I believe that this will cover the remainder of the agreed-upon sum.'
For all his obvious greed, Jason didn't snatch it up when Glover placed it in the center of the table. Instead, Jason poked it with his gun, rolling it toward Dodger. Peremptorily, he ordered, 'Check it out, elf.'
Dodger plucked the stick from the table without a word. He recovered the minicomp and slotted the credstick. His fingers danced on the key membrane. After several flurries, he looked up at Glover. 'Pray tell, Goodman Johnson. Why are the funds locked?'
'What!' Jason's eyes narrowed.
Sam tried to forestall any further reaction by asking, 'Is there an explanation you'd care to offer, Mr. Johnson?'
Glover ignored the agitated man at his side, focusing his attention only on Sam. 'I believe that I have a question of my own which must be answered before we proceed. Where is Mr. Sanchez?'
The man was so damn sure of himself.
'Being delivered as we agreed.'
Glover's face remained deadpan. 'I am quite sure that you understand. I must have that confirmed before I authorize the transfer of funds.''
Hoping that he had called it right, Sam tried to keep his own voice calm and assured. He hoped he hid his growing trepidation. Corporates away from their safe turf didn't stay so unruffled unless they had hidden assets.
'Then we wait.' Jason looked like he was ready to do something else, so Sam said, 'Got that, Jason? We give the man a chance.'
Jason's sullen glower was his answer.
They sat in stony silence for some minutes until Glover's wrist beeped. He slid back his pristine cuff to reveal a multi-function watch. Tapping in two code sequences, he waited for a response. He seemed satisfied when it came. He tapped in another longer sequence.
'Right. That's it, then, gentlemen. You will find the complete fee available to you now, as well as a substantial bonus in recognition of the alacrity of your performance. I would like to say it has been a complete pleasure doing business with you.'' Glover started to rise. He made no gesture but it was clear that he expected Jason to get out of his way. 'I am a very busy man and I must be getting along.'
'Just make yourself comfortable, Mr. Johnson,' Sam told him. He was pleased that his voice remained steady. There had been no sign from Jim at the bar that anything was out of place, but that was no guarantee that nothing was wrong. Especially if Glover was an agent of Lofwyr. 'You're here until Otter calls in.'
Glover drew in a long breath and pursed his lips.
He reseated himself stiffly. 'I see.'
'No need to be put out, Goodman Johnson. 'Tis a simple bit of business assurance. I'm sure you understand.'
Glover returned Dodger's smile with a stiff mask, but his detachment was evaporating. The corporate's annoyance was starting to grow. In the middle of the room, Burke was tensed. Sam wanted to defuse the situation before someone did something that they'd all regret. But how?
Forcing a smile that he really didn't feel, Sam called for a round of drinks.
'There's no reason to be concerned, Mr. Johnson. This is simply a business formality. We can still complete this deal without impediments.'
'Let us hope so, Mr. Twist.'
'I have confidence. However, my friends might feel more confident of our good will if you were to answer my earlier question. They would be relieved if you were to offer some reasonable explanation for the screwup.'
Glover shrugged away the importance of the matter with the merest shift of his shoulders.
'It was a simple communications slipup. Mr. Sanchez never received the word that his extraction was to take place. That same glitch deprived him of your descriptions. He would have had no idea that you and your friends were my agents.'
'That's it?'
'That is, as you say, it. I accept full responsibility for the confusion.'
It would be impolitic to dispute Glover's answer. It was possible that he told the truth. Just barely. Sam tried another approach.
'I realize that you need not tell us, but what will happen to Sanchez from this point?'
Glover looked thoughtful for a moment, then almost smiled. 'Mr. Sanchez will receive the most attentive care during his transfer. We want him in the best of health. His role in our organization will be a prominent one. Of course, we will benefit from his participation, but it will not be all one-sided. Mr. Sanchez has special assets. His participation in our ongoing roject will ensure that many people lead better and more productive lives. If all goes as planned, he may even be famous one day. So I can assure you that you need have no concerns about Mr. Sanchez's welfare. We intend to see that he has every opportunity to achieve his destiny.'
'Too fragging noble,' Jason commented.
'Believe as you will,' Glover returned. 'Some people have concerns beyond their own personal comforts and needs. Some of those people are in positions to act and would find it unconscionable not to act. Can you grasp the concept of altruism, or is that beyond your greedy brain?'
Jason clenched his jaw, his hand slowly sliding up and over the butt of his Predator. Thankful that the insult had only lit the fuse rather than touching off an instant explosion, Sam slapped his own hand down on Jason's. He had no hope of pinning it there, but he might slow Jason's reactions. That delay could give Burke time to kill the Indian. Hoping he had made the right move, Sam glared at Glover.
'That was uncalled for. I think you should apologize to Jason.'
Glover glanced at the table before speaking. His voice was neutral. 'Where apologies are necessary and appropriate, I offer them.'
The reduction in tension under his hand told Sam that Jason had accepted Glover's statement as repentence. The Indian really was dumb. Sam waited until Jason relaxed his shoulders, then dragged the Indian's hand away from the gun before releasing it.
They waited. At last, the bar phone rang and Jim picked it up. He spoke into the handset, nodded, then shoved it into his gut to muffle the pick-up.
'Call for Halifax. Anybody seen her?' Jim shouted.
After waiting a moment for a response that never came, he said into the receiver, 'Ain't here. It's early, try Damien's.'
Dodger sat back and smiled. Sam felt the same relief, but thought it impolitic to let it show. Jim was giving the code phrase that meant Grey Otter had made the transfer and gotten safely away. Jason used the opportunity to snatch the minicomp, letting out a surprised oath when he saw the figures on the screen. He turned the minicomp around again and shoved it at Sam.
'Make the cuts, Twist.'
Sam transferred Jason's cut back to the credstick in the machine. He popped it and slid in a blank to take the transfer of Fishface's slice. Transaction completed, he put both on the table and rolled them to Jason.
The Indian grabbed his own first and slipped it into his pouch. Rising, he caught the other as it reached the edge of the table top. He flicked the stick to Fishface.
'Done deal?' Fishface asked tonelessly.
'Done deal. We're outta here.'
