Interested? Damn straight they were interested. They had forty fighter planes grounded until they could get reserves back up.

"I'm not sure, Ivan. I'll have to check with the boys. Why? Are the Oil czars loosening up a bit?"

"Possibly. I've heard a few rumors I might be able to follow up on. Just because they refused your first few offers doesn't mean they aren't interested. Maybe if you offered an exchange instead of a simple purchase. I have relatively reliable information that they might be willing to release the fuel if Communications were willing to share the plans for the throat-mike communicators currently in use."

Bingo! Those bastards wouldn't be so ready to deal if those throat-mike systems weren't giving them real problems. Time to twist the old knife a little.

"I dunno, Ivan. The boys are mighty touchy about those little toys. I don't think they'd be too wild about our trading them off that easily."

Ivan grinned like a barracuda.

"As a matter of fact, Frederick, the rumor I heard stated specifically that your troops were not to be notified of the exchange. You know, a little...'under the table' deal between old friends."

You son-of-a-bitch! You want us to sell our own men down the river! You want us to turn your Oil Slicker wolves loose with those hookups without warning our own troops!

"N-F-W! No fucking way, baby!" He maintained his smile even though it hurt. "No way will we turn those toys loose unannounced for a few crummy gallons of fuel!"

"You disappoint me, my friend. Certainly my superiors are aware that such an exchange would require some additional bonuses for Communications."

"Such as what?"

"Unfortunately those figures are not available at this time. Perhaps we could continue our discussion over lunch?" Without waiting for an answer, he stepped past Fred and disappeared into the depths of the building.