Robert Asprin - The Cold Cash War

"It's about the international currency thing that's come up. You were rather outspoken in the meeting today with your views against it."

"That's right. It's a half-baked idea. The costs for running a system like that would be astronomical. Why, just to safeguard against counterfeiting..."

She interrupted with an annoyed wave of her hand as if she was shooing a bothersome fly.

"I know. I know. I heard you at the meeting today. You make nice speeches, but this time...this time I think you're barking up the wrong tree."

"Oh, bullshit! Just because your whiz kids came up with the idea doesn't mean..."

"Will you listen to me! I don't like it either!"

Their eyes locked in angry glares. Silence reigned for a few moments before Fred registered what she had said and his anger gave way to embarrassment.

"Sorry. You didn't say anything at the meeting."

"I know. I couldn't believe it was really happening. It was like a nightmare and I kept waiting to wake up."

She stared at her coffee. Fred waited respectfully for her to regain her composure.

"Fred, you talk about the costs, but have you really thought it through? Have you really stopped to think about what would happen if the corporations got together and issued their own world-wide currency?"

She looked at him directly now, her dark eyes deep, almost pleading, as she continued.

"Money makes the world go 'round, and the governments issue the money. If we start issuing our own money, it might make international business a lot simpler and stabilize costs, but the government won't stand for it. They'll be all over us with everything they've got. And it won't be just one or two governments, it'll be all of them. Every single one of 'em united to tear the corporations down. I wouldn't be surprised if the C-Block didn't deal themselves in too. That's why I'm against it!"

Fred considered her words.

"Do you really think that would happen?"

"Do you see anything that would keep it from happening?"

Fred started to sip his coffee, then set it down again.

"All the nations...when...I'm going to have to think about that one."

He looked at her, and realized she was still staring into space.

"Hey! Judy!" His words were soft and concerned.

She looked at him and he realized her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Hey, this thing really has you scared, doesn't it?"

Instead of answering, she rose and fled to the ladies room.

Fred signaled for the check and pondered the situation. Well, he had always wondered what it would take to crack that controlled exterior. Now he knew.

The waiter swept by, leaving the small black tray with the tab on it in his wake.

Fred stared at it thoughtfully for a full minute, then dug out his wallet and carefully counted out a small stack of bills onto the tray. In a twinkling it disappeared with a small murmur of thanks from the waiter, and he lit a cigarette and settled down to wait.

A few minutes later, Judy appeared, face pale but her makeup intact or repaired.

"Sorry about that, Fred, but I..."

"Shall we go now?" He rose casually, as if nothing had happened or been said.

"But what about the check?"

"I took care of it."

"Oh, Fred, it was my turn to pay."

"I took care of it."

"But it's going onto the expense account anyway..."

"I took care of it."

She blinked at him in sudden realization.

"Oh."

"I'm taking you back to the hotel. You need a nightcap...somewhere where there aren't other people around."

"Spare change? Hey, man, any spare change?"

The youthful panhandlers were inevitable, even in a Brazilian airport. Tidwell strode on, ignoring the boy, but Clancy stopped and started digging in his pocket.

"Come on, Clancy! We've got to beat that mob through Customs."

"Yeah, ain't it a bitch?" the youth joined in. "Do you believe these gooks? It's been like this for almost a week."

Curiosity made Tidwell continue the conversation.

"Any word as to what they're doing?"

"Big tour program. Some Jap company is giving free tours instead of raises this year." He spat on the floor. "Damn cheap bastards. Haven't gotten a dime out of one of them yet."

"Here." Tidwell handed him a dollar. "This'll make up for some of it."

"Hey man, thanks. Say, take your bags to that skinny guy on the end and slip him ten, no hassle!"

The youth drifted off, looking for fresh game.

"Hypocrite!" accused Clancy under his breath. "Since when were you suddenly so generous."

"Since I could write it off on an expense account. That item is going in as a ten-dollar payment for an informant. C'mon, I'll buy you a drink out of the profits."

"Actually, I'd rather loiter around out here and make sure everything goes okay."

"Relax." Tidwell shot a glance down the terminal. "They're doing fine. Damndest invasion I've ever seen."

At the other end of the terminal, the rest of their infiltration group was gathered, taking pictures and chattering together excitedly. Clancy and Tidwell had arrived by commercial flight half an hour after the charter plane, but the group was still fluttering around getting organized. They were perfect, right down to the overloaded camera bags and the clipboards. Even with his practiced eye, Tidwell could not have distinguished his own crew of cold killers from a hundred other groups of Orientals which frequent the tourist routes of the world.

"Hey! There you are!"

Both men winced. The irritating voice of Harry Beckington was unmistakable. After seven hours of his company on the plane, the mercenaries had not even had to confer before dodging him as they got off the plane. He would have made nice camouflage, but...

"Thought I lost you guys with all the slant-eyes in here!"

Their smiles were harder than usual to force.

"Sure are a lot of them," volunteered Clancy gamely.

"You know how they are-first a few, then you're hip-deep in 'em."

"That's the way it is, all right," smiled Tidwell.

"C'mon. Let me buy you boys a..."

As he spoke, he gestured toward the bar, and collided with one of the "tour group." He collided with Aki.

There was no reason for Aki to be passing so close, except that there was no reason for him not to. He was returning from the souvenir stand and the group of three men happened to be in his path. One of the forces' instructions for the invasion was to not avoid each other. Nothing is as noticeable to a watchful eye as a group of people studiously ignoring each other. It would have been unnatural for Aki to alter his path, so he simply tried to walk past them, only to run into Beckington's wildly flailing arm.

Aki's arm was still in a sling from his duel with Tidwell, and it suffered the full brunt of the impact. He instinctively bounced back, and stumbled over Beckington's briefcase.

"Watch it, gook! Look what you did!"

Aki was the picture of politeness. He bobbed his head, smiling broadly.

"Please excuse. Most clumsy!"

"Excuse, hell. You're going to pick all that stuff up."

Beckington seized his injured arm angrily, pointing to the scattered papers on the floor.

"For Christsake, Beckington," interrupted Tidwell, "the man's got a bad arm."

"Injured, my ass. He's probably smuggling something. How 'bout it, gook? What are you smuggling?"

He shook the injured arm. Small beads of sweat appeared on Aki's forehead, but he kept smiling.

"No smuggle. Please-will pick up paper."

Beckington released him with a shove.

"Well, hurry up!"

"Careful, Beckington, he might know karate," cautioned Clancy.

"Shit! They don't scare me with that chop-chop crap!" snarled Beckington, but he stepped back anyway.

"Here are papers. Please excuse. Very clumsy."