"So," Scott avoided getting incensed. "You're damn lucky you have me around. I see a pattern, a trail, that leads I don't know where, but I have to follow the trail. That's my job."
"What has Europe got to do with it?" Doug was softening.
"Oops, thanks! I almost forgot." Scott felt stupid for a second, but he was without notes, he rationalized. "Kirk is my hacker contact who I've been talking to over my computer. Gives me real good stuff. He says there's a conference of hackers in Amsterdam next week. It's a real private affair, and he got me an invite. I think, no I know, there's something bigger going down; somehow all of these pieces tie together and I need to find out how."
"That's it?" Scott looked disappointed at Doug's reaction.
"No, that's not it! You know that the Expos has been publishing bits and pieces of the same stuff we haven't been publishing?"
Scott didn't know which of his arguments made the case, but Doug certainly reacted to the competitive threat. "How much?"
"How much what?" Scott wasn't ready for the question.
"For Europe? How much play money will you need. You know I have to sell this upstairs and they . . ."
"Airfare and a couple of nights plus food. That's it. If you want," Scott readied the trump card he had never used at the Times. "I'll pay for it myself, and submit it all when I come back. Then, you make the call. I'll trust you."
"You really think it's that important?" Doug said.