From: IDS07215@APPSTATE.EDU (IDS1101101)
Subject: The Shipment
Date: 29 Sep 92 16:24:52 GMT


   It took awhile for the asian to get to him.  Stevens looked around and said,
"Who the fuck'r you?"
   The asian smiled and sat down across from him.  "You have come here to do
business?"
   "No.  You stupid enough to do business here?"
   "I understand you are a trader, a...Pilot."
   "Look man, sounds to me like you have the wrong guy," Stevens said, "The
airports that way.  I don't fly planes - I just kill people who think I do."
   "You are Stevens, are you not."
   "A couple of folks think that's my name..."
   "Stevens flies cargo, yes."
   Stevens pulled out the nine millimeter, and pointed it at the asian's chest,
"Listen asshole, I don't have time for bounty hunters, and I sure as hell don't
have time for greasy little orentials trying to sell me down the river.  What
the hell do you want, and who the fuck are you.  You got about ten seconds
before I blow your fucking intestines all over the back of that seat."
   There was a slight pause, and then the asian said, "My name is Saito, from
Korea.  I have a...Proposition for you.  Yes, that is the word."
   Stevens kept the gun to the asian's chest and said, "So deal, my man, so
deal."



From: IDS07215@APPSTATE.EDU (*Matthew Justin Harmon)
Subject: The Shipment/2
Date: 4 Oct 92 20:00:01 GMT


   The asian was nervous.  Stevens thought that this might be because of his
nine millimeter, but then dimissed the thought...Koreans, as far as he was
concerned, just didn't get nervous about things like contraban, which was
basically what this little plucker was talking about.
   "You corprate?"  he asked.
   And the asian squirmed.  Yeah, thought Stevens, that's it.
   "No.  No, what ever gave you that idea...?"
   "Not important, Saito.  Fill me in, where to, what type of flack, how much,
and I want a reference to check you with...."
   "These things will take time..."
   "No, Saito.  We may be in Japan, but you're going to move like it's Germany.
Like I said before, I have no time.  I want the info now."
   Saito looked up at a clock hanging nearby.  "Very well.  You will be
carrying a very special cargo, very special, so special, in fact..."
   Stevens pulled the hammer back on the nine millimeter, "Don't waste my time,
man...."
   "It's a component for an...uh, what is the word, satelite."
   "What type, who to, where from, and will there be any flak involved?"
   "Industrial, to Seoul, from Osaka...We will provide you with the proper IFF
codes."
   "And let's not forget payment, my little asian friend..."
   "One million Swiss francs, plus fuel and aircraft mantainence."
   Stevens whistled, and lowered the hammer.  "And your reference?"
   "Steven Chu."
   Yeah, thought Stevens, definately corprate, with a capital C, as he put the
gun away.
   "When do I pick this most wonderous instrument up?"
   "16:30 GMT, 01:30 local time.  You will be at the Osaka airport, then?"
   "Yeah, I just have to make a couple of phone calls, you understand...."
   "Yes, yes, certainly."
   Stevens smiled as he watched the Korean leave the Chatsubo, picked up
the telephone, and paid Chu a collect phone call.