"Why certainly, Sergeant Nunzio," I smile, givin' it right back to him, and follow him as he moves a little ways away from where the crew is huddlin'.
"What are you trying to do?" he hisses, as soon as we are alone. "Maybe I missed a loop, but I was under the impression that improving efficiency was the last thing we wanted to do here!"
"It is," I sez, "except everyone on the crew is thinkin' just the opposite. I'm just stallin' for a little time by insistin' that Bee come up with a complete plan before we actually have to implement any changes."
"Okay," Nunzio nods, "but what happens after he finishes comin' up with a new setup?"
"Then we either stall some more ... or see if things will actually get fouled up more if we go ahead and try to go against army procedures. The officer what was briefin' me seemed pretty certain that the whole army will grind to a halt if all that paperwork Bee is talkin' about doesn't get filled out. At the very least we should have a chance to find out whether or not he is right."
"I dunno," my cousin frowns. "It seems to me that ..."
"Guido! Nunzio!!"
We turn to find an apparition bearin' down on us. At first, I think it is one of those new armored wagons the army has been experimentin' with ... only done up as a parade float. Then I look again, and see that it's ...
"Massha!"
By the time I get this out, our associate has reached us, wrappin' one meaty arm around each of us in a humongous hug.
"I heard you guys were here and just had to come by and say 'Hi'!"
Because I am sorta to one side of her instead of directly in front of her, I can see past her to where our crew has stopped what they are doin' to gape at us ... which is the normal reaction of folks what is seein' Massha for the first time.
"H ... Hi, Massha," Nunzio sez, managin' to squirm loose. "How are things going? Any word from the Boss?"
"Not a peep," Massha sez, lettin' go of me. "There were some funny signs coming through a while back on the monitor ring I gave him, but they settled down and since then everything seems to be normal."
"Do you think he's okay?" I sez. "He's been gone nearly three weeks now."
"Maybe ... maybe not," she shrugs. "Remember that time doesn't flow at the same speeds on all dimensions. It may only have been a few days where he is."
"I get it," Nunzio nods solemn-like. "Like in Moorcock's Eternal Champion books."
"That's right," Massha beams. "As to your other question, things couldn't be going better, Hugh and I are hitting it off like a house afire. I'll tell you boys, I don't like to brag, but I've got him so lovesick, I don't think he remembers that he's in the army ... much less that he's supposed to be running it."
Now, I haven't read the book they was chattin' about a second ago, but this is somethin' I can comment on.
"Ummm ... Massha?" I sez. "That may not be such a good thing."
"What do you mean?" she sez, her smile fadin' as she looks back and forth between Nunzio and me. "That was my assignment, wasn't it?"
"Tell her, Guido," Nunzio sez, dumpin' the job of givin' Massha the bad news in my lap.
"Well, the way I'm hearin' it," I sez, wishin' I was dead or otherwise preoccupied, "the army is functionin' better without him."
"But that doesn't make sense!"
"It does when you consider that the layer of officers directly under him trained and served under Big Julie," Nunzio sez, redeemin' himself by comin' to my rescue. "The more you keep him away from his troops, the more those officers get to run things their way ... and it seems they're better at this soldierin' than General Badaxe is."
"So you're saying that the best thing I could do to louse up things is to let Hugh go back to commanding the army?" Massha sez, chewin' her lower lip thoughtful-like. "Is that it?"
"So it would seem," I sez, relieved at not havin' to be the first to voice this logical conclusion. "I'm really sorry, Massha."
She heaves a huge sigh, which on her is really somethin', then manages a wry grin.
"Oh well," she sez. "It was fun while it lasted. Nice to know I can still distract a man when I set my mind to it, though."
Politeness and self-preservation convince me to refrain from makin' any editorial additions to this comment.
"I guess I'll just say my goodbyes and head back to Big Julie's," she continues. "Any word from the other team?"
"They've called it quits, too," Nunzio sez. "You'll probably see them when you get to Big Julie's and they can fill you in on the details."
"So it's all riding on the two of you, huh?" she sez, cocking an eyebrow at us. "Well, good luck to you. I'd better get moving and let you get back to work. It looks like your friends are waiting for you."
I glance over where she is lookin' and sure enough, the whole crew is standin' there, alternately glancin' at us and mutterin' together.
Wavin' goodbye to Massha, we ambles over to join them.
"Who was that?" Spyder sez, kinda suspicious like.
"Who, that?" I sez, tryin' to make it casual. "Oh, just an old friend of ours."
"Scuttlebutt has it that she's the general's girlfriend," Junebug sez in a flat voice.
"Where'd you hear that?" Nunzio sez, innocentlike.
"Here and there," Junebug shrugs. "Face it, there can't be many people around Headquarters who would fit her description."
He had us there.
"Isn't it about time you guys told us exactly what is going on?" Spellin' Bee sez.
I realize, far too late, that we have been seriously underestimatin' the intelligence of our crew.
"What do you mean by that?" Nunzio sez, still tryin' to bluff his way out of it.
"Come on, Nunzio," Junebug sighs, "it's been pretty obvious since Basic that you and Guido here don't really belong in the army. You've got too much going for you to pass yourselves off as average recruits."
"You fight too good and shoot too good for someone who's supposed to be learnin' all this for the first time," Shu Flie sez.
". , . And you've got too many connections in high places," Spyder adds, "like with the Mob."
"... And with devils," Bee supplies.
"... And now with the general's girlfriend," Junebug finishes. "All we want to know is, what are you guys really doing in the army? I mean, I suppose it's none of our business, but as long as we're servin' together, what affects you affects us."
"Bee here thinks you're part of some secret investigation team," Hy Flie sez, "and if that's what's going on we'll try to help ... unless it's us you're supposed to be investigating."
"Well, guys," Nunzio sez, shakin' his head, "I guess you found us out. Bee's right. You see, the army wants us to ..."
"No," I sez, quiet-like.
Nunzio shoots me a look, but keeps goin'.
"What Guido means is we aren't supposed to talk about it, but since you've already ..."
"I said 'No,' Nunzio!" I sez, squarin' off with him. "The crew's been play in' it straight with us all along. I say it's time we told them the truth ... the real truth."
Nunzio hesitates, as he is not real eager to go head to head with me, then glances back and forth between me and the crew.
"Okay," he sez finally. "It's your funeral ... go ahead and tell them."
Then he leans against the desk with his arms folded while I fill the crew in on our assignment ... startin' with how the Boss's plan to keep Queen Hemlock from tryin' to take over the world fell apart when King Rodrick died, right up to our current plans to try to use our position in the supply depot to mess up the army's progress. They're all real quiet while I'm talkin', and even when I'm done no one sez anythin' for a long time.
"Well," sez Spyder, breakin' the silence, "the way I see it, we can't mess up every shipment or the army will just jerk us out of here. We'd better hold it down to one in five for a while."
"One in ten would be better," Junebug sez. "Otherwise ..."
"Wait a minute! Stop the music!" Nunzio explodes, interruptin' the conversation. "Are you guys sa
yin' you're willin' to help us screw things up?"
"Sure. Why not?" Shu Flie sez, puttin' a hand on my shoulder. "You and the Swatter here have been lookin' out for us since Basic. It's about time we did something for you for a change."
"Besides," his brother chimes in, "it's not like you're trying to bring down the kingdom or destroy the army. You're just out to slow things up a little ... and that's fine by us."
"What it boils down to," Spyder smiles, "is that after working with you two all this time, we know you well enough to trust you to not hurt us ... or anyone else for that matter ... unless it's absolutely necessary. I think I speak for all of us when I say we've got no problem putting our support behind any plan you think is right. Am I right, guys?"
There is a round of nods and affirmative grunts, but I am only half payin' attention. It is occurrin' to me that I am buildin' a better understandin' of what the Boss means when he sez he's nervous about commandin' more loyalty than he deserves. While the crew is sayin' they don't believe we would do anythin' to hurt them, I am thinkin' about how we set them up for the barroom fight in Twixt ... a detail I omitted when I was testifyin' about our recent activities. This makes me feel a little low, and while I am not about to refuse their help, I find it strengthens my resolve to avoid such leadership and decision makin' positions in the future.
"What about you. Bee?" Nunzio is sayin'. "You aren't lookin' too happy. You want out?"
"N ... No. It isn't that," Bee sez, quick-like. "I'm willing to help as much as I can. It's just that ... well, I was sort of looking forward to trying to get this place organized."
"You can still do that, Bee," Junebug sez, winkin' at him. "We still need to know what's going on, even if we only use the information to slow things up."
"It's just too bad we don't have our own teamsters," Shu Flie sez. "Then we could really mess things up."
"What was that, Shu?" Nunzio sez, suddenly lookin' real attentive.
"What? Oh. Well, I was thinking that if we could have our own drivers to do the delivering instead of using army wagons, we could scatter our shipments all across the kingdom."
"No ... I mean what did you say about teamsters?"
"Teamsters," Shu repeats. "You know. The guys that drive freight wagons ... at least, that's what we called 'em back on the farm."
I look at Nunzio and he looks at me, and I realize from our smiles we is thinkin' the same thing.
"Spyder," I sez, "you found the Mob once in Twixt ... do you think you could do it again?"
"Sure," she shrugs. "Why?"
"I got a message I want you to get to Don Bruce," I smiles. "I think we just found somethin' he can do to help us."
Chapter Seventeen;
"Ya gotta speak the language."
-N. WEBSTER
"HEY, SWATTER." Shu Flie sez, lookin' out one of the warehouse windows, "do you know there are a buncha wagons and drivers sitting outside?"
"No," I sez, "but if you hum a couple bars, I'll fake it."
Okay, so it's an old joke. Like I've said before, the army runs on old jokes. Unfortuitously, this particular joke is apparently a little too old for our farm-raised colleague.
"Say what?" he sez, lookin' kinda puzzled.
"Strike that," I sez. "Are they army or civilian?"
While it is procedure to have army wagons and drivers take shipments out of the supply depot, deliveries from suppliers is done by the supplier's own transports, and are therefore civilian.
"Civilian," Shu sez.
"Are the wagons full or empty?"
"They look empty from here."
I look over at Nunzio.
"Think it might be the teamsters we're expectin'?"
"Easy enough to check," he shrugs. "Hey Shu! What are they doing?"
"Nothing," the Flie brother reports. "They're just sitting around and talking."
"Sounds like them," Nunzio smirks. "I think it's your deal, Junebug."
As you might be able to detect from this last comment, we're all occupied with our favorite pastime, which is to say, Dragon Poker.
"Shouldn't one of you go out and talk to them or something?" Shu sez, wanderin' over to our table.
"It wouldn't do any good," I sez, peekin' at my hole cards. "They'll talk to us when they're good and ready ... and not before. Pull up a chair and relax."
As it turns out, it is several hours before there is any contact with the drivers. When it finally comes, it takes the form of a big, potbellied individual with a tattoo on his arm who comes waddlin' through the door and over to our game.
"Hey, hey!" he snarls, "is somebody gonna talk to us or what?"
Now, just because Nunzio and me is big guys what get our way by tossin' our weight around does not mean we are particularly tolerant of anyone else who does the same thing.
"We figured you guys would talk to us when you were good and ready and not before," Nunzio sez, gettin' to his feet. "You got a problem with that?"
"Oh yeah?" the guy hollers, goin' nose to nose with Nunzio. "Well for your information, we'll talk when we're good and ... and ... oh. Yeah."
It takes a little doin', but I manage to hide my smile. This guy is already at a disadvantage in the negotiations, as my cousin has beaten him to his own punch line. Havin' lost the edge in the bluster department, he retreats to his secondary defense of indifference.
"We ... ah ... heard around that you guys was lookin' for some civilian transport, so we thought we'd drop by and see what the score was for ourselves."
"The stuff's over there on the loadin' dock." I sez, jerkin' a thumb in the appropriate direction. "And here's the list of where it's supposed to go. Bill us."
I nod to Bee, who hands the guy the papers for the shipments we have selected. Like I say, we'd been expecting them.
The guy looks at the list he's holdin' like if s a road kill.
"Just like that, huh?" he sneers. "Don't you wanna talk about our haulin' rates?"
"No need for that," I shrugs. "I'm sure you'll charge us a fair price."
"You are?" he sez, squintin' suspicious-like.
"Sure," I sez, givin' him my best collection agent's smile, "especially seein' as how the rates is gonna be reviewed ... and if they look outta line, there's gonna be an investigation,"
"An investigation," the driver sneers. "We get Royal investigations all the time ... and we ain't changed nothin' yet. If they give us too much grief, we just threaten to shut down haulin' all over the kingdom."
"We wasn't talkin' about no Royal Investigation," Nunzio sez. "We was thinkin' of another judgmental body."
"Oh yeah? Like who?"
Nunzio winks at me, and I take a deep breath and give it my best shot.
"Don ... de don don. Don ... de don don Bruuuuuce!"
Though my singin' voice is not what you would call a real show stopper, the guy gets the message. His smile droops, and he swallows hard ... but he's a fighter and tries to rally back.
"Yeah, okay, so you get our 'special' rates. Just don't expect any express delivery."
Now it's Nunzio's turn to show off his grin.
"Friend," he sez, "if we wanted efficiency, we wouldn't have sent for the teamsters."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the guy bellows, gettin' back some of the color he lost when we mentioned Don Bruce.
"Just that your normal delivery schedules will suit us fine," I sez, innocent-like. "Know what I mean?"
"Yeah ... well ... I guess that's settled," the guy sez, lookin' back and forth between Nunzio and the men. "We'll go ahead and get started."
As he is goin', I find I cannot resist takin' one last dig at him.
"Say, Nunzio," I sez in a loud voice. "What do you call a teamster in a three piece suit?"
"The defendant!" Nunzio shoots back just as loud.
This humor goes right past the others in the crew, but the driver gets it. He breaks stride, and for a second I think he's gonna come back to "discuss" it with us at length. Instead, he just keeps on goin' a
nd contents himself with slammin' the door for his witty response.
"You know, Guide," Nunzio sez, goin' back to studyin' his cards, "special rates or not, eventually we're going to have to pay these jokers ... and we do not currently have access to the funds we are accustomed to operating with in M.Y.T.H. Inc."
"Relax, cuz," I sez, seein' the current bet and raisin' it, "I got an idea for that, too."
I have a chance to try out my plan that afternoon when a shipment arrives from one of our suppliers. I wait until the unloadin' is almost complete, then amble over to the driver.
"Say ... you got a minute?" I sez, friendlylike.
"Okay," the driver shrugs. "What's up?"
"Well," I sez, lookin' around like I'm expectin' a cop, "I got some information you should pass back to your outfit."
"What's that?"
"There's a rumor goin' around that the queen is callin' for an audit on military spendin'," I sez. "Somethin' about a lot of our suppliers chargin' us more for supplies than they do civilians."
"An audit?" he repeats, suddenly lookin' real nervous.
"Yeah, scuttlebutt has it that any outfit caught gougin' extra profits out of army contracts is gonna get shut down and their entire inventory confiscated by the government."
"Is that legal?"
"Hey, we're talkin' the queen here. If she sez it's legal, it's legal."
"When is this gonna happen?"
"Not until next month, the way I hear it," I sez. "I just thought you might like to know a little in advance. You know, so just in case any of youse guys' prices should need some quick readjusting youse could do it before the audit started."
"Hey thanks! I appreciate that."
"Yeah? Well, let your management know about it and see if they appreciate it, too. If they do, then maybe it would be a good think if in addition to adjustin' their prices, they made a little refund to postdate the price change ... like maybe you could drop it off here when you make your next delivery?"
"I'll do that," he sez, noddin' vigorously. "And thanks again. We won't forget you."
Things went pretty smooth after that. We only had to plant our audit rumor a couple times for the word to spread through the suppliers, and soon there was a steady arrival of "refunds" ... more than enough to pay off the teamsters. What's more, Bee's plan for reorganizin' the warehouse worked well enough that we ended up havin' a fair amount of leisure time each day, which we devoted to sharpenin' our Dragon Poker skills ... as well as to our new hobby: Creative Supplyin'.
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