Leverage: don’t make deals without it – Trump ‘The Art of the Deal’

Operation Silent Night (D-2 hours)

Fille placed her fist on the table and grinned. The dim light emitted a sickening yellow glow on her jagged teeth. Tauru cast a casual glance towards Marko, who nodded. Then he snapped his fingers for the waitress to come over.

“Coyn, I have something for you,” Tauru said as he dug in his coat pocket and slammed the Pocket Secretary on the table.

“This isn’t your battlefield, meat shield,” Bob said. “I’m well aware that your captain has been suspended. Red has no fear of reprisal attacks from your meagerly sized crews.”

“There’s nuttin’ you can do, lil’ man. The little lady’s encrypted. Three unauthorized attempts and, poof, everything’s erased,” Filla added, slamming her fist on the table. “Ya’ can’t even activate her without da’ password.”

Tauru tapped her on the head, and the figurine disappeared, revealing a woman with black buns. She bowed to Tauru and Marko.

“Greetings, Mr. Tauru and Captain Marko. What do you require?” she asked pleasantly.

“Pfft, how do we know dat’s the original and not some fake?” Fille said, chuckling.

“Pocket Secretary, I want to know a bit about Bob here and his not-so-lovely companion,” Tauru said, picking up his beer.

She stared at them for a few moments, then her eyes glazed over, and words ran across her pupils.

“Bob, also known as King Bob, business class in the Battle City games, with a subclass Diplomat level 3 and subclass Spy level 2. Strengths include negotiation, accounting, and information manipulation. Fetishes include furry, light S and M, and foot worship. According to records, his furry name is True Fang Moon-Wolf,” Pocket Secretary said. “Petite Fille, also known as…”

“Enough!” Bob snapped.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognize your authority…shall I refer you to as Bob, King Bob, or True Fang Moon-Wolf? Which is more to your liking?” Pocket Secretary asked and rolled her eyes.

Tauru patted Pocket Secretary on the head, and she returned to doll form. Then he placed it between the waitress’s cleavage. She gave Tauru a little wave and darted away.

Rod held his finger to his ear and hopped over the counter as he ran to the door. Sphere retracted his weapon and ran out, followed by the patrons in the bar. Bambi ran her hands down her long legs, and a rifle with a bayonet appeared in her hands as she waited by the door with the weapon raised.

Gunfire barked outside.

“Regardless of what you do with her, a non-aggression pact with Blue will render what she knows useless,” Bob said.

Mange stormed in and unslung her Lewis gun, racking the charging handle back.

“The Green Goose is neutral territory,” she said, leveling the weapon at him. “I want your kill teams to stand down.”

“If you surrender these two and Pocket Secretary, we will leave without incident. Furthermore, we will reimburse you for any trouble,” Bob said.

Mange’s lips twitched, and she flicked the switch from safe to automatic.

Filli jumped out of her chair and glared at Mange, “Finally, some fun.”

She balled up her fists, and they began to glow with a red light. Marko jumped off his chair and cracked his knuckles.

“Times up, meat shield,” Bob said. “Make a decision.”

Tauru reached into his pocket and pushed forth a folded piece of paper towards Bob. He picked it up and read it while shaking his head no.

“While you may or may not have a non-aggression pact with Blue, I know Go-home Gold will pay quite well for Pocket Secretary. How many zeroes will they pay, Mange?” Tauru asked.

“A lot of zeros, even after our 30 percent cut,” Mange replied.

Bob gritted his teeth.

“We will still take your territories even if you sell off Pocket Secretary,” Bob countered. “You lose.”

The gunfire grew louder, and yelling came from the other room.

“Now it’s my turn to enlighten you two on the situation,” Tauru said, leaning closer to Bob. “Do you know what a trifecta defense strategy is? No? Thought so. Unlike a Layered Defensive Model, the Trifecta, you know each of the districts the Thornewoods have recently taken…now protects the other. The NPCs from the Nakatomi district work in the Iron District and at the freshly acquired Fort Carré. Any attempts to attack any of the zones will result in an instant loss from the residential district.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Tauru held out his hand and showed Bob three fingers, then folded one finger down. Bob narrowed his eyes but remained silent.

Tauru continued, “If it even looks like the Wheels will lose the Heights, the Fort Carré guns will flatten the entire zone.”

“We have done the calculations; you don’t have the resources,” Bob replied as he tapped his ear.

“Since the elimination of Guillotine, iron production is up 40 percent across all work shifts. The NPCs are happy with us,” Tauru said, looming over Bob. “We have enough iron to rain down on the Heights for weeks. Taking the mine? Good luck killing the White Witch of the Tower at the mines. That’s the instant victory condition, right? Kill the captain and take the flag.”

“Pfft,” Marko said. “How many kill teams did lil' Cotton Top take out by herself? Two...wait three?”

Filli growled as she balled up her fist.

Tauru moved his fingers down and held his fist to Bob’s face.

“There will be a landmine placed on every centimeter of a newly acquired piece of real estate, and with our Druid, she will turn every blade of grass and every tree into a weapon. Fort Carré will be a death trap,” Tauru said. “Come and take it.”

Bob sat back in his chair and looked away.

“Tell your boys to stand down,” Mange said.

Bob tapped his ear and said, “All teams, stand down…Stand down!”

Mange lowered her weapon, and Marko relaxed. Filli snorted and lowered her fists.

“Call your people and tell them that you are the best negotiator, you took advantage of us, and wow…look at the deal they got!” Tauru said, pointing to the paper. “A true used car salesman.”

“They won’t go for any of your demands,” Bob said in a low voice.

Tauru picked up his beer and drank it down with a loud gulp. When he was finished he slammed the empty glass down on the table.

“Go big or go home,” Mange said.

“Fine,” Bob said.

His eyes glazed over, and he began typing on a keyboard only seen by him. His fingers tensed and relaxed. Occasionally he nodded or shook his head. After a few minutes, he sighed deeply. With one swipe of his hand, he moved the screens away.

“Fine…but no more incursions into our territories for the rest of the season by the Thornewoods or the Wheels,” Bob said. “Or assisting other Blue teams into ours.”

“Agreed,” Tauru said as Marko nodded.

“In return,” Bob said and snorted. “Red won’t attempt to retake territories lost this season only and will allow you and your people to cross through Red areas unmolested.”

"And what about them other requests, Daddy-O?" asked Marko.

“The Blood Council won’t let you have the Harris Star Port but will transfer the BC Airfield to the Thornewoods. That’s all I can get them to agree to,” Bob said. “Do we have a deal?”

“We got a deal. Mange, your boot knife, please,” Tauru asked.

Mange placed her foot on the chair pulled a slender dagger from her boot and slapped it into Tauru’s hand. He pulled off his fingerless glove, sliced the palm of his hand, and then passed the dagger to Bob.

“I do detest the old ways,” Bob said before cutting his hand and shaking Tauru’s hand.

Bob passed the dagger to Marko, who promptly pulled out the hand sanitizer and cleaned off the dagger.

“I don’t know where your sticky paws have been, True Fang Moon-Wolf,” Marko said and cut his palm.

Bob sneered. Marko shook Bob’s hand. Filli relaxed, and her hands stopped glowing.

“Once your tactical teams are gone and after I get clearance from Captain Thornewood, you can retrieve Pocket Secretary,” Mange said, glaring at Bob. Bob pulled out a red silk handkerchief and wrapped it around his hand.

“Bye Pocket Secretary, we’re going to miss you,” Tauru said and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

“Fine,” Bob said and started to take the briefcase.

Marko slammed the boot knife down on the briefcase with a loud thunk.

“Nope, that stays here, Moon-Wolf,” Marko said. “Consider it the cost of doing business.”

“It’s yours,” he said and adjusted his tie. “I bid thee good evening, gentlemen and Lioness.”

Filli followed him out. Waiting until they were out of sight, Mange rubbed her forehead and relaxed.

“That was close,” Mange said. “By the way, how did you crack Pocket Secretary; those things are nigh unhackable.”

“That was easy, we had someone who could read the Akashic record,” Tauru said and opened the briefcase. “Pulled the password right out of the air. But to be totally honest, T.C. found the password list taped under a computer keyboard.”

Tauru grabbed a stack of money and handed it to Mange. She shook her head no and slung the Lewis gun back over her shoulder. The patrons began to trickle in.

“We’ve already been paid,” Mange said, as she tried to hand the money back.

Marko and Tauru exchanged glances but said nothing.

“Consider this a retainer fee. Next time some clown wants the Bloodhound Gang to run an operation against the Wheels or Thornewoods, notify and allow us to make a counteroffer,” Tauru said.

Mange flipped through the stack of money and held it over her shoulder. Rod walked by and snatched the cash. Marko picked up his beer and began to chug it.

“I’ll go put this in the safe,” Rod said. Marko, Mange, and Tauru sat down in the booth.

Bambi waved to them and climbed back on stage.

“I get why you want the starport, but the airfield?” asked Mange as she snapped her fingers.

Coyn gave a little wave and headed over.

“You have to ask Boss Kitty, maybe she has a thing for blimps or something. I dunno,” Tauru replied.

“I…rather not,” Mange said and pointed to the beer mugs. “Another round, please.”

“Don’t blame you,” Tauru said and peeled off a stack of bills from the case and handed it to Coyn. “Meanwhile, it’s party time!”

Marko muttered, “A couple of bottles of whisky too.”

Coyn smiled and walked off. The party continued for two days.

***