“Contribution?” Phule frowned. “I think there’s some mistake here, Governor. I wasn’t talking about making a contribution to your … campaign. Not when you’re already living beyond your means.”
Wingas purpled. “Who says I’m living beyond my means?” he demanded.
“Not ‘who,’ Governor,” the commander said. “More like ‘what’-specifically your current loan application. Frankly, if you don’t get it, I’d be surprised if you stayed out of bankruptcy for the rest of the year.”
“That’s just a consolidation loan, so I can … Hey! Wait a minute! That information is supposed to be confidential! What right have you got to go poking around my personal finances?”
“Oh, the information is confidential, all right,” Phule assured him. “I just happen to be on the board of the bank that’s reviewing your application, and in that capacity I’m supposed to use my best judgment in appraising the risk involved in major loans, which I’m afraid your loan qualifies as.”
The governor slumped back in his chair as if he had been struck.
“Are you trying to tell me that unless I give the Legion the honor guard contract, you’ll veto my loan approval?”
“Let’s just say it would be difficult not to factor it into my assessment of your judgment and reliability.” The commander smiled.
“I see.”
“However, I’d like to clarify something you just said. I’m not asking you to hand the Legion the contract on a platter. Just give them an equal chance with the Regular Army to earn the assignment. “
Wingas cocked his head to one side, looking at Phule through narrowed eyes.