I’m not trying to buy it,” Clay said to the proprietor. “And it is a local move, I’m not going anywhere with it.” “You’ll have it back today?” “I’ll have it back by six tonight.” “Fifteen hundred dollars. And the gas tank had better be topped off.” “All right. You’re robbing me blind, but I have to have a truck today.” “You got a beef, Sergeant Major, take it up with President Ohmshidi. It’s his dumbass policies that have gotten us into this mess.” “Yeah, well, I can’t argue with you there,” Clay said. “That sonofabitch has been a disaster.” “Well, why didn’t you tell me you hated Ohmshidi as much as I do? Tell you what. I’ll take two hundred fifty dollars off. You can have the truck for twelve hundred and fifty.” “Thank you,” Clay said. When Clay drove through the Ozark Gate he was stopped by the MP. “You’ll have to get a visitor’s pass for that truck,” the MP said. “And I’ll need to put down where you are going.”
