| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Change of Plan |
| Date: | Mon, 12 Jan 1998 00:24:57 +0000 |
>>>>>[What would I do without Vinny?
Train Two-Tone or Greenie up, I guess, if he quit or died. But he'd be
hard to replace.
I might give him a stake in the plant. It's his baby now, if he can make
it work he'll deserve it.
+++++begin trideo
The intercom buzzes, and Easy flicks it. "Yeah?" she asks, sprawled
comfortably with her long legs on the desk. The reply is too faint for
the room's camera, and she chuckles. "Send her in."
A few moments later, a handsome woman walks in: she doesn't look like
she fits in Tarislar, except maybe as one of Rusanov's off-duty
mercenaries. Easy waves her to the chair, the woman pulling it out with
a bandaged hand. Mani, who had risen to his feet for the lady, settles
back into his own seat.
"So, Officer, you're here with a warrant for my arrest? How's the hand?"
"No." Sergeant Julianne Hart replies. "The hand's fine. Accident or
deliberate?"
"Indifference. I wanted you to drop the gun before you shot me with it.
If I amputated anything, your medical insurance would cover it. I didn't
really care either way as long as you lived." Easy shrugs, as one of the
bar staff brings coffee. "So, Sergeant Hart, how can I help you?"
Hart takes the coffee. "Look, Easy or Julia or whoever you want to
be..."
"Elizabeth." Easy says. "That's my real name."
That surprises Hart a little. "Okay. Elizabeth. Listen, you got to
understand the delicacy of the situation here."
The Elf chuckles. "Let me guess. It's embarrassing to the Department
that Heihachi's New Year party got decorated with some corpses. But you
can't link it to me. And if you did, there's a problem of motive. Not to
mention the race angle. City protects rich Yak criminal who destroys the
dreams of poverty-stricken Tarislar district, but persecutes the person
who - abandoned by the law - brings down notorious crime boss Heihachi
Abe to save her local community. Film at eleven.
"You probably have a good idea already what my lawyer could do with this
story. But, Officer, there are laws and boundaries and codes. And you
want us to behave, to save your Department from being embarrassed any
more. So you're going to try to persuade me why anyone in Tarislar
should give a damn about Lone Star. Admittedly, you made an excellent
start when you helped enforce that passive resistance stunt Vinny
pulled." Easy sips her coffee. "I thought I'd have a guerrilla war to
fight when I got back. Instead we won without firing a shot, and people
remember that the . But that's pissing in the wind, compared to the way
most people hate the Star around here. You got a lot of ground to make
up."
"Sort of right, mostly wrong." Hart replies. "I'm not here to ask, I'm
here to tell. You got a problem, fine, we'll help you. You commit a
crime, we'll come for you. This is Seattle, not Dodge City."
"Actually, Officer, this place makes Dodge City look peaceful as the
Vatican on Sunday." Easy shrugs. "You think most of us wouldn't like a
little more peace and quiet?"
"Which is the problem, Elizabeth. There are a few people who don't think
an explosive factory here would be a net benefit to the area. It's a
fucking huge bulls-eye for any Humanis mob, or some Tir Taingire nutcase
who thinks Remembrance is getting too big for its boots."
Easy stirs in her seat, but Hart cuts her off. "Yeah, you got good
security. Would it stop _you_? For the media circus a hit on an ordnance
works would get, they could afford whatever it took. Kamikaze drones,
artillery, an armoured vehicle through the fence..."
"Yeah." Easy nods. "And there's only so much we can do about it.
Unfortunately, most legitimate businesses we could try have an overhead
problem, that mean we can't compete with uptown. We need something a
little out of the usual run of things."
The policewoman hands her a sheet of paper. "Try this."
Easy reads it, quickly. "This is crazy... wait." She keys the intercom.
"Vinny? Hi, Two-Tone. Can you ask Vincenzo to come see us in the office?
Thanks."
"So, no bomb factory?" the Elven samurai asks the policewoman.
"It's political dynamite, pardon the pun. You've got a lot of people who
want you to succeed, a lot who want you to fail. They don't care what
you do as long as they get what they want. There's a lot more on the
fence, who'd be easily persuaded to come out against a 'Tarislar crime
boss's legalised bomb factory'. Plays well to the anti-meta crowd and
the 'keep them in the Barrens' mob. If they don't jump right away, the
first incident will persuade them." Hart finishes her coffee, as
Vincenzo enters and takes a seat. Easy hands the big Ork the paper.
Easy waits while Vincenzo scans the printout: the bartender shakes his
head wryly. "Never work. Someone _paid_ for these ideas? Got to be from
some breeder management consultants."
"_Pro bono_ work." Hart sighs.
"You're not allowed to speak Latin in the shadows. Didn't you hear?"
Easy chuckles. "Apparently it's a conspiracy to keep the poor in their
place."
"Point remains, I'm warning you to steer clear of-"
"Wait one." Vincenzo studies the sheet again. "The consultants might
have got something right."
"Their cop-out closing paragraph isn't as much of a cop-out as it might
seem. In fact, it's good stuff, as long as you think it through. What
does every bar in Puyallup have to import?"
"Pretzels?" Hart asks, grinning.
"Beer." Easy says, thoughtful.
"There's a brewery in Redmond, and a couple of micros in Snohomish, but
nothing closer. You need power and, especially, clean water. We've got
both. Don't need much space for a brewery." Vincenzo continues. "And we
could brew some _real_ beer, as it is we sell more imported than we do
American. Finally, okay, there's more to secure, but not many pros are
going to rip off a truckload of beer. Just not enough margin, and too
tedious to fence. Amateurs, we can afford to stop. And we can sell
locally in a big way."
"Raw materials?" Easy asks.
"Buy from the Petrowskis. They'd be glad of the market." Vincenzo
replies. "Or import from NAN."
"Trade it against our environmental good behaviour, maybe." Easy muses.
"They'd be keen, they want this place cleaned up... Officer Hart, your
points are noted. And thank you. Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got a
change of direction to plan out. Pass that on."
The policewoman leaves: Easy motions for Vincenzo to stay.
"Another tradeoff. Think it'll work?" Easy asks.
"Yeah. Maybe. There's a lot less money and prestige in trashing a
brewery, than in wrecking an ordnance plant. Plus the brewery's a damn
sight cheaper. We could maybe build some decent housing? Some for the
work force, rent out the rest? A brewery leaves us more capital to keep
the ball rolling."
"You get the impression we're trading off so much we'll forget what the
plan was?" The Elf asks thoughtfully.
"Not yet. In fact, I actually figured Hart was genuine. Maybe her bosses
aren't, but she was for real." Vincenzo shrugs. "Boss, you need to get
out and about some. You need a break. Take off, have some fun, relax
some. I'll run the bar, get the plans going. Gonna be a lot cheaper
getting an architect for a beer farm than a bomb shop... I'll run up a
business plan, see what I can do by myself. I need you, I'll call."
"Enthused, Vinny?" Easy enquires sardonically. "I already put you up for
that MBA."
"Well, I'm a bartender first and last. So, I know a lot more about beer
than I do about warheads." The Ork grins back.
+++++end trideo]<<<<<
-- Easy <23:42:21/01-11-59>
