Chevy Chase, Maryland, December, 2077, Wednesday…

"Are you completely crazy?"

Sergio Battaglia swished his fine vodka back and forth in his glass, mesmerized momentarily by the tinkle of the ice cubes on the fine crystal. Yet it was not enough to make him forget that Jason Pezanowski sometimes could be very annoying.

"I know what I'm doing. No one would be stupid enough to use nukes. Pakistan and India had plenty of reasons to blow each other up and never did. Latin Americans have a lot more in common than the people in those two countries. Look at Brazil and Argentina - they've had nukes for thirty years and have always acted quite maturely."

Pezanowski didn't look convinced. He was sitting in one of Sergio's fine leather wing chairs, the fingers of his right hand drumming on the inlaid wood on the arms of the chair. He had gotten wind of the blow-up at the conference in Bogotá.

"Why not just make a deal with one of them?"

"Because, by pitting them against each other, I'll get a better deal. That is the beauty of it. They'll be begging me to do the exploration and exploitation for the petroleum. Your buddy Frank has helped tremendously there, of course. Speaking of which, are you keeping tabs on the FBI investigation?"

"Yeah, yeah, that Murphy is a real nosy one. She talked to the Clarks."