"But-"
"It's a man's game, Johnson," P. M. Looncraft lectured. "If you're going to play it, be a man."
"Yes, Sir," Johnson said unhappily.
"Now, let's get a tender together on this Nostrum. Say, one hundred and thirty a share. No more, no less."
"Nostrum? What about Global?"
"I will need to take over Nostrum's shares if I am to acquire Global, thanks to that Slickens person. He currently holds more of Global than I do. The rotter."
Johnson stood up. "At once, Mr. Looncraft."
"Keep me updated."
Ronald Johnson turned to go, his shoulders slanted twenty degrees from the horizontal lower than when he had entered the office.
"And, Johnson?" Looncraft said.
"Sir?"
"You have a spot on your tie. Have it cleaned. It is company property."
Johnson's smile was wistful. He was thinking of how much money that tie had cost him.
"Thank you, sir," he said meekly as he left the room.
Looncraft waited until the door had shut before allowing a broad satisfied smile to spread over his angular face. These affected young fogies, he thought. All wanting to play the game. Every one bound and determined to win. And all so very terrified of losing.
It was their fear that always worked against them. And for P. M. Looncraft.
He returned to his computer terminal.
Chapter 11
"It's true!" Faith Davenport was saying. "Rumors are flying up and down the street about it."
"A talking bear?" Remo Williams said in a skeptical voice. "Imagine that." He sat on the rug in the reception area of the newly rechristened Nostrum, Ink. He had come out to strike up a casual deskside conversation with Faith, but the lack of furniture made that difficult, so he sat down on the rug with her.
"They say he demolished Lippincott Mercantile Bank and frightened DeGoone Slickens' staff right into the street," Faith said, spooning peach yogurt into her delectable mouth. Remo watched every mouthful disappear, thinking he now preferred her pretty mouth to her uptilted nose. "They say he's a mass hallucination, but a lot of traders think he's a harbinger of a coming bear market."
"Makes sense," Remo said soberly. "A bear ushering in a bear market."
"Don't smirk, Remo," Faith said, shaking a plastic spoon at his nose. "The street is very superstitious. Something like this could make the traders even more jittery than they are. Besides, it really wasn't a talking bear. It was someone dressed in a bear suit. Called himself, of all things, Bear-Man."
"Is that so?" Remo said, his eyes narrowing. "You know, I'd like you to tell Chiun that."
"The chief, you mean."
"He lets me call him Chiun," Remo said, knowing it would impress Faith. He was having trouble impressing her, which was a rare experience for him. Usually Remo had to fight to keep women away. Most sensed his animal power and followed him around like puppy dogs. It intrigued him.
Remo was about to ask her if she was free for dinner when Chiun burst out into the hall.
"Remo!" Chiun squeaked excitedly. "Quickly! Bar the doors. We are under attack!"
"We are?" Remo said, jumping to his feet.
"One of my minions informs me that forces are massing to conquer us."
"What forces?"
"A conspiracy consisting of a cabal known as Looncraft, Dymstar d."
"The brokerage house?" Faith asked.
"You know these villains?" Chiun asked suddenly.
"I worked for them before I came here. I hated the place. Too stuffy. No one even knew my name."
"Then I hereby promote you to my aide-de-camp," Chiun announced.
"Aid-de . . . ?" Faith said, her yogurt forgotten.
"Your salary is hereby doubled. Now, come, we must plan a counterattack. Remo, see to the doors. Let no one enter who is not known to us."
"Hold the phone, Chiun," Remo said.
"You will address me as 'Chief,"' Chiun said huffily.
"That's not funny," Remo said sharply.
"It was not meant to be," Chiun returned. "These are perilous times. My precious Nostrum is under attack."
"If you'll listen to me a freaking second," Remo retorted, "maybe I can put this in perspective before you go completely off the deep end."
"What do you know about business matters?" Chiun asked skeptically.
"Enough to know that Looncraft Et Cetera isn't a secret cabal of plotters," Remo shot back. "They're an investment house. And they're not going to send in an army to loot and pillage. They're mounting a hostile takeover."
"Yes, that is what my hireling called it. The dastards!"
"A hostile takeover isn't what you think. They just make an offer to buy your company."
"I will not sell," Chiun said firmly.
"You may not have any choice in the matter," Faith put in.