“Surprise,” Harry said.
“The good news is, it actually worked for us,” Schmidt said. “The Korban leader—who, incidentally, you caused to get drenched in fruit juice when you kicked your competitor into the stands—wanted to know why you let your competition win. We had to admit we told you to lose. He was delighted to hear it.”
“He had money on the other guy,” Harry said.
“No,” Schmidt said. “Well, probably, but that’s not the point. The point was he said that your willingness to follow orders even when winning was in your grasp showed that you could make short-term sacrifices for long-term goals. He saw you almost winning as making a point about CDF strength, and then losing as making a point about the value of discipline. And since he seemed quite impressed with both, we said those were indeed exactly the points we had wanted to make.”
“So you have brains after all,” Harry said.
“We rolled with the changes,” Schmidt said. “And it looks like we’ll come out of this with an agreement after all. You saved the negotiations, Harry. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Harry said. “And I’ll bill you.”
“I have a message for you from Ambassador Abumwe,” Schmidt said.
“I can’t wait,” Harry said.
“She thanks you for your service and wants you to know she’s recommended you for commendation. She also says that she never wants to see you again. Your stunt worked this time but it could just as easily have backfired. All things considered, you’re not worth the trouble.”
“She’s welcome,” Harry said.
“It’s nothing personal,” Schmidt said.
“Of course not,” Harry said. “But I like the idea that I had choreographed having the crap kicked out of me down to that level of detail. Makes me feel like a genius, it does.”
“How do you feel?” Schmidt said. “Are you okay?”
“You keep asking that same very dumb question,” Harry said. “Please, stop asking it.”
“Sorry,” Schmidt said. He turned to go, and then stopped. “It does occur to me that we know the answer to another question, though.”
“What’s that?” Harry said.
“How well you can take a punch,” Schmidt said.
Harry smiled, and then grimaced. “God, Hart, don’t make me smile,” he said.
“Sorry,” Schmidt said again.
“How well do you take a punch, Hart?” Harry asked.
“If this is what it takes to find out, Harry,” Schmidt said, “I don’t want to know.”
“See,” Harry said. “I told you you were soft.”
Schmidt grinned and left.