“I told you how we got it, didn’t I?” Fawcett said to Senator Rolander.

“Yeah, you used to have it in your place in Chicago.”

“Well, Senator Snyder here hasn’t heard the story.” Fawcett looked at Snyder and raised an eyebrow as if to say, You’re not going to believe this. “When the palace of Versailles was stormed by the people of France, they saved the paintings and sold off the furniture. Those prissy academics who run Versailles now have been scouring the world trying to buy back all of the original furniture.

“They made it perfectly clear that they believed the desk was a national treasure and that they would go to any lengths to get it back. They claim that they were dealing directly with the owner, but that’s a load of bullshit. The owner was a savvy old bird who used Sotheby’s on the sly to mount a very discreet bidding war. I had one of my lawyers from Amsterdam represent me as an anonymous buyer. The French bid high right from the get-go, and we followed them straight up. There was no way I was going to let them get it. Bill Gates was hovering around the fringes of the bidding, and I thought I was really going to have some trouble out of him, but he lost interest after a while. When the other players fell out of the running and we were neck and neck with the French, we let them win the bid.”

Snyder leaned forward surprised. “If you let them win the bid, how’d you end up with the desk?”

“I’ll tell you how,” said Fawcett, “and if I do say so myself, it’s brilliant. We had a girl inside who handled the banking. For their deals, especially one of this size, Sotheby’s has very strict rules. They don’t care if you’re Charlie de Gaulle or Charlie Potatoes, if you can’t come up with the payment, you lose your place in line. They came back to us when the French money didn’t show and asked if we would match the bid. Meanwhile, the Frogs were going batshit trying to figure out what went wrong. It was beautiful. Our girl had worked it so she was spotless. It looked like the bank in France screwed things up. We were able to get the rolltop for a fraction of what it would have cost if there’d been an all-out bidding war. And let me tell you this, it felt good to stick it to the Frenchies.”

Rolander had heard the story before, but the guile of his old college roommate made him smile nonetheless. Rolander was amazed at how far sheer force of will and personality had carried Fawcett. He sometimes wondered where he would be if he’d been as ruthless. Being a senator wasn’t bad by a long shot and Russ Rolander hadn’t got to where he was by sitting around, but what would it be like to have Fawcett’s money and power? What would it be like for him to support all of his vices with his own money, rather than depending on the steady stream of Fawcett deposits to his Caribbean bank account?

Well, if you were going to be in a pocket, Rolander reasoned, it might as well be a deep one.

Snyder’s reaction wasn’t much different. He was also amazed at the lengths to which Fawcett would go to get what he wanted. Snyder felt a bizarre sense of camaraderie with the man. Both he and Fawcett knew no limit to their passions, nor to the depths to which they would descend to force the world to give them what they wanted. As much as they had in common, though, there was one thing that Snyder knew for sure, he was smarter than Donald Fawcett would ever be.

“So,” continued Fawcett, “that’s how my little Louis XV room came to be. How much do you want to bet that he banged Marie Antoinette right on that couch you’re sitting on?”

Snyder tried to suppress it, but a slight smile crept across his lips. Fawcett might have monkey loads of money, but he didn’t know shit when it came to history. Marie Antoinette wasn’t married to Louis XV, she was married to Louis XVI.

“I get what I want. Don’t I, Russ?”

“That’s right,” Rolander managed between coughs, as Fawcett, who had been walking behind the couch, had smacked him hard on the back mid-swig of his brandy.

Snyder didn’t like the way Fawcett circled the room like a buzzard looking for a wounded animal, and was glad when he finally sat down behind the desk.

“Enough small talk,” said Fawcett, looking into his snifter as he swirled his brandy, releasing the sweet, metallic vapor. “Where do we stand?”

Rolander sat up straighter, his imposing size dominating the couch, and cleared his throat, “As you know, Donald, the deal has been moving along smoothly. We have our foreign assets in place, and the advance information we have received fits the equation perfectly…as we knew it would. In an undertaking such as this, the CYA, or cover-your-ass factor, cannot be stressed greatly enough-”

Fawcett interrupted Senator Rolander. “That’s what I never did like about politicians, always worrying about covering their asses when they should be worrying about doing their jobs.”

“Listen, Donald,” said Rolander, “don’t you fucking patronize me. This is one serious deal, and if you think I’m not covering my flanks, you are sorely mistaken.”

“There’s nothing wrong with covering your flanks, Russ. Just don’t spend so much time watching your ass that you miss what’s right in front of you. Understand?”

“Yeah, I understand, all right. I just hope you do. This isn’t shooting fish in a barrel. This is serious business. The smallest detail could turn this into a major cluster fuck and send us all running for cover…or worse.”

“Spare me the lecture, Russ. I know this is serious business. I’ve got billions riding on it. Jesus, with all of the power problems in California alone, you’d think we’d be developing our fossil fuel capabilities further, not scaling back. What the fuck are they thinking? Alternative energy sources? Not only are they dangerous and unreliable, they’re just too much of a hard sell to the American public.”

“But, you forget about the greenhouse gases and global warming,” broke in Rolander.

“Fuck the greenhouse gases, fuck the Kyoto Protocol, and fuck global warming,” spat Fawcett. “That’s all a bunch of inconclusive bullshit. I have invested tens of millions of dollars trying to get you and your colleagues back east to see the light on this one. God, if I never see another lobbyist or politician with his hand out again, it’ll be too soon. But, after all is said and spent, where’d my money get me? Nowhere, that’s where. If this fossil fuel rollback happens, I don’t even want to think about how much money I’ll lose. It’s bad enough the government has forced us into selling power to states like California at fire-sale prices, but now they want to go further and whittle away our market. I have gone at this thing every way I can, and now the buck stops here.”

“Which brings me right back to what I was saying, Donald. To avoid this thing hitting the fan, we’ve got to have a flawless strategy,” said Rolander.

“Relax, Russ. I told you already that I have the details all worked out. You think I want this deal to go sour? Besides, the trail goes so cold before it reaches either of your doors that even Rudolph the fucking Red Nosed Reindeer couldn’t follow it. Got me?”

“I gotcha,” said Rolander, “but you get me, Donald. I don’t care how much money you’ve put into this deal and I don’t care how much you stand to lose. No more changes. This thing goes off as planned. You of all people should appreciate the value of what I’m saying. Our offshore associates are not happy with how you’ve pushed up the closing.”

“You let me worry about them,” said Fawcett. “In fact, as I’ve said before, let me worry about everything. All of the players are being extremely well compensated for their participation. There is no reason for anyone to be getting jumpy. The closing was moved up because the closing had to be moved up. That’s the nature of the business. We’re all professionals here, so let’s get our acts together and get on with the deal. Now”-Fawcett rubbed his hands together in anticipation and leaned forward over his desk-“what’s the word from Star Gazer?” Two sets of eyes fell upon Senator Snyder and awaited his report.