Damn the Torpedoes

 269.

Davis updates the radical strategy departure to Saunders, myself and Julie. His skepticism - or is it performance anxiety - precedes him as a 'broad stokes' plan had previously been given by The Queen herself. Her hacking acumen is unmatched, legendary in the tight circle where she is known as the best of the best. The issue from our strategy standpoint is that by providing Davis and Saunders with the real-time proof of concept sting, she, and in turn they, will be inadvertently rendering the importance of Mr. Big's involvement to zero. Why go to the trouble of an improbable jailbreak from a maximum security facility, one with an unblemished record in that very category, when she herself could do the job? No, the game plan needs an audible, the ability to spot enemy weakness and change the initial call to gain however small an advantage. This, as Julie was fond of saying, is that.

"Let's not forget that what happens next is always up to us," she says as her turn at the round table negotiation comes up, "are we sacrificing the bigger picture victory for a short term win?"

The bottle standing by me I present my concerns, chief among them the fragile 'gentleman's agreement' between the principles, The Vegas Mob, Mr. Big and Senator Hartaugh. "The initial offer was held precariously together by us delivering Big as a good faith tit-for tat, the thieves idea of an honorable quid pro quo. Will the polar extremes of Vegas and Hartaugh keep the agreement without Big? Alter all the three headed monster to which we initially offered the deal, has lost one of its heads."

I have always appreciated the silence following a spicy and/or thought provoking comment; eyebrows raised, hands folded, postures adjusted, but this one brought the room to a scary silence that even Steven King might appreciate.  

Harlan finally breaks the ice with a Q-tip, "We don't know."

Julie: "Best guess, odds, probabilities?"

The Queen steps up, "We don't need Big, he was a tool, a pawn, a way to demonstrate the reach of our power and extent of our commitment. He was conduit between the two heads of the slimy serpent you," she nods in my direction, "so aptly use as a metaphorical proxy for reality. With Big out the split just got substantially larger for the pair of greedy bastards whose heads are about to roll. Big can rot in Florence, he's done."

"So you think we should go with the new play, despite its obvious risks?" Julie asks.

"I think Davis will soon have an Oscar on his mantle, yes I think we should go."

A vote is taken, a rarity in this quasi-dictatorship.

Julie, holding the clout of tie-breaker, is pleased the option is moot.

We are unanimous, from Farragut to Petty.

We go. Damn the Torpedoes.