Asprin, Robert Lynn – Catwoman – Tiger Hunt (With Lynn Abbey)

“You said it was a drive-by. The Bessarabians got hit. The box was with them when you inspected the bodies or it was with the drive-by gang.”

“Or maybe the Bess-arab sheepherders double-crossed us.”

The telemetry went wild. More importantly, the monitor attached to the Connection’s keyboard came to life as he opened a back door into the Gotham Police telex. The cursor flashed rapidly, the screen divided, and data began streaming on both sides, in opposite directions.

“Why would the Bessarabians double-cross us? What could they gain? They’d have nothing to show for it, would they? The Seatainers are moored five miles off shore. Those guns and Stinger missiles might just as well be on the moon for all the good they’ll do our little friends. The Seatainers are moored safely, aren’t they?”

Tiger’s nod was quick, emphatic, and confirmed by the telemetry. That part—the easy part: enough munitions to sustain a small rebellion for a number of weeks—of the operation was under control, but the other more important part, involving the antique Russian icon, destined for an Asian collector’s very private gallery and from which the Connection expected control of two percent of the Golden Triangle opium trade, was very clearly out of control. The split screen continued to stream data.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Tiger.” The Connection adopted a parentally cajoling tone while he divided his attention among his many monitor screens. “What went wrong, Tiger? Tell me.”

“The Bess-arabs ran, boss. They scattered like—like the sheep they are. I couldn’t follow them all. One of them could’ve taken the box. Or maybe it wasn’t a drive-by. Maybe it was a planned hit. Maybe the Bess-arabs do have enemies here. How should I know. There isn’t one of them who speaks English worth shit.”