Read Online The Further Adventures of Batman by Martin H. Greenberg - Free Book Online
Authors: Martin H. Greenberg
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ARDC system. Since we will be supplying these weapons to our own troops as well as our allies, I need hardly mention to you the seriousness of this contract.”
“I know the weapons are good,” said General Rohort, shifting his heavy body in an alert manner. “But can ARDC be relied upon to deliver?”
“I think we need have no doubts about that,” Fenton said. “But as a final witness, I have taken the liberty of calling in James Nelson, Deputy Director of the CIA.”
Fenton gestured and a yeoman opened the door to the outer office.
In walked a tall tan man dressed entirely in shades of tan. Even his fingernails were tan; an extremely light tan, but a tan nevertheless.
Only his teeth were white; his teeth, and the whites of his eyes.
General Kowalski wondered if it meant anything that the first thing he noticed about James Nelson was the whites of his eyes.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Nelson said. “Please excuse my tan. I’m just back from Florida where I have been supervising our counterinsurgency program designed to bring Columbian cocaine dealers in line with current clandestine drug pricing policies.”
“Have they been undercutting the government drug-supply programs again?” General Rohort said, a frown on his tanklike face.
“Indeed they have,” Nelson said. “The loss of revenue for the government’s various clandestine services has been severe. And of course there is the loss of quality experienced by the end users.”
“That foreign stuff doesn’t meet FDA regulations,” Admiral Fenton growled. “There really ought to be a law against it.”
“The President believes in free trade,” Nelson said. “Within limits, of course.” He ignored the No Smoking sign and lit a cigarette. The faint yellow cast of the tan cigarette contrasted subtly with the faded rose tan of his lips.
“Well, never mind,” Kowalski said. “It’s none of our business what anyone does about drugs. We’re here to do something about this contract. I must say, Nelson, I’ve had my doubts about a few of the details.”
“Set your mind at rest,” Nelson said. “This is one of the best and most constructive contracts the U.S. government has ever entered into with a company from the private sector. What makes it even nicer is that several of our foreign allies will also profit from the contract and give this move a lot of good publicity.”
A copy of the contract was taken out and passed around. The Joint Chiefs peered at it and passed it around.
“Well, gee,” Kowalski said. “I’m still unsure.”
“Let me reassure you,” Nelson said. “The President himself wants this bill to be signed into law.”
“Then why doesn’t he tell us so?” Kowalski asked.
“Gentlemen, that is just what he is going to do. The President is coming here to witness your signatures and congratulate you on doing your patriotic duty.”
“The President? Coming here?” said Chuck Rohort.
“You got it, Chuck,” Fenton said.
“Then let me waste no further time,” Nelson said. “Gentlemen, the President!”
He nodded to the yeoman. The yeoman gulped and opened the door. In walked Marshall Seldon, the tall, stooped, gray-haired man with the lopsided grin known in every home around America.
The Joint Chiefs rose so as to crowd around the President. Nelson made them stay back.
The President held up a hand. Soon they heard his familiar tweedy tenor.
“Gentlemen, I have many important matters to attend to. Please sign the treaty, and let us get on with the business of confounding our enemies and comforting our friends.”
The Joint Chiefs crowded around, each pushing to be first. They were interrupted by a clear baritone voice as the door opened again, this time without any assistance from the yeoman.
“Before you sign that piece of paper, gentlemen, I’d like a word with you.”
They all fell silent. Even important men like generals and admirals were likely to give Batman a chance to speak.
Nelson was an
“I know the weapons are good,” said General Rohort, shifting his heavy body in an alert manner. “But can ARDC be relied upon to deliver?”
“I think we need have no doubts about that,” Fenton said. “But as a final witness, I have taken the liberty of calling in James Nelson, Deputy Director of the CIA.”
Fenton gestured and a yeoman opened the door to the outer office.
In walked a tall tan man dressed entirely in shades of tan. Even his fingernails were tan; an extremely light tan, but a tan nevertheless.
Only his teeth were white; his teeth, and the whites of his eyes.
General Kowalski wondered if it meant anything that the first thing he noticed about James Nelson was the whites of his eyes.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Nelson said. “Please excuse my tan. I’m just back from Florida where I have been supervising our counterinsurgency program designed to bring Columbian cocaine dealers in line with current clandestine drug pricing policies.”
“Have they been undercutting the government drug-supply programs again?” General Rohort said, a frown on his tanklike face.
“Indeed they have,” Nelson said. “The loss of revenue for the government’s various clandestine services has been severe. And of course there is the loss of quality experienced by the end users.”
“That foreign stuff doesn’t meet FDA regulations,” Admiral Fenton growled. “There really ought to be a law against it.”
“The President believes in free trade,” Nelson said. “Within limits, of course.” He ignored the No Smoking sign and lit a cigarette. The faint yellow cast of the tan cigarette contrasted subtly with the faded rose tan of his lips.
“Well, never mind,” Kowalski said. “It’s none of our business what anyone does about drugs. We’re here to do something about this contract. I must say, Nelson, I’ve had my doubts about a few of the details.”
“Set your mind at rest,” Nelson said. “This is one of the best and most constructive contracts the U.S. government has ever entered into with a company from the private sector. What makes it even nicer is that several of our foreign allies will also profit from the contract and give this move a lot of good publicity.”
A copy of the contract was taken out and passed around. The Joint Chiefs peered at it and passed it around.
“Well, gee,” Kowalski said. “I’m still unsure.”
“Let me reassure you,” Nelson said. “The President himself wants this bill to be signed into law.”
“Then why doesn’t he tell us so?” Kowalski asked.
“Gentlemen, that is just what he is going to do. The President is coming here to witness your signatures and congratulate you on doing your patriotic duty.”
“The President? Coming here?” said Chuck Rohort.
“You got it, Chuck,” Fenton said.
“Then let me waste no further time,” Nelson said. “Gentlemen, the President!”
He nodded to the yeoman. The yeoman gulped and opened the door. In walked Marshall Seldon, the tall, stooped, gray-haired man with the lopsided grin known in every home around America.
The Joint Chiefs rose so as to crowd around the President. Nelson made them stay back.
The President held up a hand. Soon they heard his familiar tweedy tenor.
“Gentlemen, I have many important matters to attend to. Please sign the treaty, and let us get on with the business of confounding our enemies and comforting our friends.”
The Joint Chiefs crowded around, each pushing to be first. They were interrupted by a clear baritone voice as the door opened again, this time without any assistance from the yeoman.
“Before you sign that piece of paper, gentlemen, I’d like a word with you.”
They all fell silent. Even important men like generals and admirals were likely to give Batman a chance to speak.
Nelson was an
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