Part 6 (2/2)
”Why?” despite the earlier pain, the word came out partially dunked in sleep. But Tony was waking up fast. And the pain was quickly subsiding. Tony was tough that way.
”Who the h.e.l.l are you guys? And why the h.e.l.l are you pounding on my door this time in the morning? You sure as h.e.l.l better not be Jehovah's Witnesses, cuz I'll bounce both your a.s.ses to the curb and smile all the way.”
The visitor with the football head straightened up and glared at Tony as he took one step forward. Tony instantly took one step back as if his spine were gripped by the tailbone and yanked on. The fear he suddenly felt was as reflexive as a gag on a piece of food in his windpipe. The man advanced three more steps into the apartment, and Tony matched him as if they were in an unrehea.r.s.ed dance. Tony had his hands behind him, feeling the air for something, anything to stop his retreat. And why was he retreating anyway?
”Stop that,” the first man spoke sharply, and the invader complied at once. He turned about slowly, his features twisting into an annoyed, questioning mask.
”Not that way,” the first man continued with a derisive tilt of his head.
The second man stared at his companion for a few seconds. Then, the message understood, he arched his back again as if he were attempting to burst out of his current frame and regarded Tony anew. There was a quiet understanding in those black eyes.
”I'm terribly sorry about this, Mr. Levin,” the first man said, and meant it. ”My companion here is much more direct than need be. He doesn't have, or should I say, isn't used to small talk. He prefers being straight up, I believe you might say. Frank. Raw. Having you by your short and curlies...”
Tony backed up another step, placing his old faded coffee table between himself and the pair of necromaniacs in his apartment.
”Your short and curlies...?” he said, expecting the worse any moment.
”I'm different,” the first man explained. ”An opposite. Yin to his Yang. And I would be ever so heartened if you would allow us some time to talk.”
The second man quickly sized up the apartment and screwed up his face in distaste.
”You guys get out now, or I'll start screaming for the cops.”
The second man studied Tony again. This time his features morphed into amus.e.m.e.nt. Tony did not like that in the least. ”Mr. Levin,” First Guy said affably, ”if you draw breath to scream, it will die in your throat.”
The second guy took a step towards Tony behind the coffee table.
”JESUS!” Tony exploded and jumped backwards. His back cracked against the gla.s.s of his balcony window door. Second Guy halted his advance, but Tony still felt the aura of menace about him. It was the childhood fear of the bogeyman just behind the closet door or of an adult walking through an unseen spider's web with their mouth wide open. Or something grabbing you by the ankles in a dream.
Tony's hands came up in surrender. ”Sure, come on in, then. Close the door too, eh? But you,” he stabbed a finger in the direction of Second Guy. ”Don't come anywhere near me, okay? You do, and I'll break your f.u.c.king head open. Got it?”
While he made his threat Tony took in everything within grabbing distance which could be a potential weapon to use against the two men. All he spotted was a phone book. The smirk on Second Guy's features was unmistakable. The black eyes narrowed in amus.e.m.e.nt in his pulled-from-a-monkey's-a.s.s shaped head. Obviously, of the three people in the room, two of them were not so concerned with the threat.
”Mr. Levin,” the first guy began, ”he couldn't physically hurt you even if he tried. I promise you that. It isn't his nature at all-ah.” First Guy abruptly raked the toque from his head, revealing a full head of short, spiky grey hair. ”This isn't how I wished to speak with you Mr. Levin. Not at all. And speak with you, I must. I hope you pay close attention to what I have to say, but you cannot do that if you are distraught by fear.”
”You can take 'fear' and stick it up your s.h.i.+tter, buddy,” Tony barked back at the First Guy, noting how the man's features crunched up in slight confusion. ”I ain't afraid of you or-”
Second Guy again made the motion to move.
Just a feint.
It was more than enough.
”JESUS H CHRIST!” Tony roared and flung himself to one side. He tripped over the coffee table and crashed landed into his sofa. There he stayed, looking up at the Second Guy with an expression of pure chagrin. ”Don't do that! f.u.c.k!” The man was like a spider dancing up your bare spine. A bare straight blade against your throat. Tony's tongue froze in his mouth. His heart crashed in his chest as if he had been injected with pure adrenalin. Panic so raw gushed into him like a faucet turned on full force. Not since childhood had Tony felt such fear, and even then, he could not quite remember an experience to compare with the terror this freak was invoking just by taking a single step towards him. Perhaps it was some kind of pheromone?
”Mr. Levin,” came the voice of reason. First Guy met his eyes. ”Just take a deep breath. Relax. It will be easier on your nerves. We're here to discuss many things of business. You are a locator of people right? Missing persons?”
”Yeah, so?” Tony gulped down air. ”You want me to find someone?” he continued to eye Second Guy and his freaky football shaped head. The man was content for the moment to stand guard it seemed. He was looking at various things in the room and Tony was briefly amused to see the man settle his attention on his discarded ball cap ”Bite Me,” hanging from a hook in the wall.
”Yes. Exactly,” First Guy said. ”An a.s.sociate of ours decided to leave work unannounced for entirely unacceptable reasons. We have no idea as to his whereabouts but we do have resources to find him. You are one of those resources.”
The man sat down on the sofa next to Tony. It squeaked with the new weight.
”And so, we are here to make an offer.”
”Who told you about me?” Tony wanted to know, his eyes narrowing. The notion of entrapment blossomed in his head.
”Ah,” First Guy peered at the worn chestnut surface of the nearby coffee table. ”Word of mouth, I suppose.”
”Look,” Tony said, ”I'm no private investigator awright? I'm more of a bounty hunting deal. And I ain't agreeing to nothing until you two give me a name. It says 'BITE ME' okay!”
A startled Second Guy jumped at the shout directed at him.
”Mr. Levin.” First Guy implored. ”You do have neighbours, I believe. And they would appreciate you lowering your voice.”
”I'd appreciate you coming back around noon,” Tony countered.
”I'm afraid we cannot. Every second, every microsecond, every nanosecond is precious to us. In fact, the length of time it will take me to convince you of your task ahead will be far too much to expend.”
”Uh huh,” Tony grunted. His fear was slacking off now, even though Second Guy was giving him dirty looks. f.u.c.k him too. ”Give me a name then. Who sent you to me?”
”I believe it was a Mr. Tigh,” First Guy answered.
”Really?” Tony's mouth hung open and he caught a whiff of his own putrid morning breath. ”You guys didn't just happen to access a file or something didya?”
First Guy's eyes flicked towards an old yellow clock on the television set. The glow in the dark hands told him it was 5:44.
”Well, how about it then?” Tony demanded. ”It better be a good story too. Else what I said earlier `bout the curb becomes f.u.c.kin' reality. Give you a can of whoop-”
The fear was back and it killed the words in his throat. Second Guy's eyes were hard and glaring and Tony felt the press of an unseen but pointed weight, like icicles, pus.h.i.+ng slowly into his head. Tony squirmed, actually whimpered, and pushed himself back into the small sofa. His eyes fluttered like window blinds in a gale. Weight, cold and G.o.d so heavy, pressed into his heart and lungs and he felt his ribs bending inwards...
And then nothing.
Everything was gone and the breath rushed out of him as if he had just spent a torturous minute underwater. Exhaustion crashed down onto Tony's frame and he collapsed on the sofa, feebly eyeing First Guy like a dying fish. He was too spent to look in Second Guy's direction.
”My name's Mr. Tim,” First Guy introduced himself. ”And that is Mr. Freddy,” he gestured with an open palm at Second Guy. ”We want you to find one Mr. Augustus D. Franklin, a missing a.s.sociate of ours. He's been missing for an eternity, it seems, and we need him back almost immediately.”
”What's he to you?” Tony mouthed, now feeling as if he needed a whole year of Sat.u.r.days to recover from what he had just experienced. ”Steal something? f.u.c.k your wife? Your daughter? Both? What?”
Tim appeared to mull something over, gnawing at the inside corners of his mouth. Tony had seen this behaviour before. He was taking his time, getting his story straight. His grey almond eyes were staring and Tony thought he was about to be fed a line.
”Mr. Franklin is in a similar line of work as yourself, I guess you could say.”
”Oh,” Tony breathed out, regaining his strength. ”I could say that. Well, thank you. Like me, you say. Wow.”
”Yes,” Tim stated, and gave a little knowing nod, as if he had just checked a map and knew exactly where he stood. ”He is a locator of people. And you could say, he... well... he...”
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