Part 7 (1/2)
Tim held out his hands, ”he takes them.”
This last statement struck Tony as odd. He was becoming less and less fearful of Second Guy now, and he felt the strength returning to his body and mind. He chanced a furtive glance at Second Guy, who stood at ease, glowering back at him.
”You mean-what? He kills them?” Tony directed at Tim.
”Yes, he does that,” Tim allowed. ”All of that.”
”He kills them,” Tony repeated. ”You don't sound so sure right now.”
Tim hesitated. ”Yes,” he said, sounding weak. ”Yes, he kills them. He is what you say, a professional.”
”So he's a hit man?”
”Yes. A hit man. A raw realer,” Tim said as if for the first time. ”A whacker. A man in black. He finds people, and he cleans their clocks. Puts a ... cap ... in their a.s.ses.”
Tony rubbed his face in thought. He needed a shave. ”So, you're looking for a guy who will find this. .h.i.t man for you? Why?”
Tim's almond eyes caught him again and did not move. Greyness, like a winter mist in March, p.r.i.c.ked with blackness. ”We need him back. No one is doing his job right now. There is a lot of work backed up, and no one can do his... thing.”
”You mean hits?” Tony felt as if he were supplying the words in this conversation. He didn't like that. It felt phony to him.
Tim nodded. ”Yes, hits. Contracts. He hasn't been working recently, and we want to know why. We must know why. But first we need to find the man. And that's where you come into the picture. He must be found as soon as possible and returned to us or, at the very least, contact us when you find him, and we will come for him.”
”So, you don't need this guy dead? I don't have to kill anyone. I don't do that, y'know.”
A smile stretched across Tim's face and he gently shook his head. ”No. You wouldn't kill him. Only find him. It's all we require of you. Only find him and let us know. Bring him to us, or we'll come to you.”
You wouldn't kill him. Tony didn't hear a challenge in there. Just a bright-as-day truth. ”Just find the guy.”
Tim nodded.
”No rough stuff?”
Tim appeared uncertain. ”Rough stuff?” he repeated.
”Yeah. You don't need him having anything broken as a lesson?”
”You mean a.s.saulted?”
”Yeah, whatever, a.s.saulted, straightened out, f.u.c.ked up.”
Again Tim smiled. ”Really, I don't think....” and he trailed off. ”No. Nothing like that. Defend yourself if need be, of course.”
”Of course,” Tony agreed. f.u.c.kin right I'll defend myself.
Tim's smile disappeared. ”Mr. Levin, the man we want you to find is extremely dangerous. Extremely dangerous. He is the taker of life the likes I have never seen before nor do I expect ever to see again. I could tell you tales around a campfire that would make your eyes explode out of your head. He is... Death himself. Do not under any circ.u.mstances fight him. He is dangerousmuch more than even my a.s.sociate here-and if he discovers you are afoot, there is a very good chance he will make you regret it.”
”He's that bad, huh?”
”Very bad. I can't put into words how bad.”
”Badder than freak boy over there?”
”Much badder,” Tim said in a serious tone. Second Guy s.h.i.+fted where he stood.
”That must p.i.s.s you off,” Tony said abruptly to Second Guy. ”Knowing that there's a guy out there who could take your a.s.s.”
Second Guys' eyes became slits. His shoulders tensed.
”f.u.c.k,” Tony went on, liking the reaction and feeling p.i.s.sy. ”I'd bring the guy back for free if I could see that. I'd enjoy seein' your white a.s.s getting stomped on. Your hit man could take this chump right?”
Tim's mouth opened but nothing came out.
”Well,” Tony wanted to know. ”He could, right? Don't feel bad if you embarra.s.s your temple slave here. You can talk about it back in the car or truck or however the h.e.l.l you two got here.”
”I suppose,” Tim admitted uncertainly. Second Guy's eyes flashed with insult.
”I have it now,” Tony went on, ”Mr. d.i.c.k here is quite the lad at scarin' the s.h.i.+t outta people, but he doesn't have a clue how to take care of any other business.”
”Actually, he can.” Tim found his voice and began defending his companion, ”but we prefer not to. Fred here,”
”Fred,” Tony repeated, a smile on his face. Tim froze as if he said something inappropriate.
”Tim and Fred are in my home this morning,” Tony declared, not saying anything about how totally fake these names sounded. He pointed two fingers at Fred, causing the man to tense up again.
”Why don't you say something there, boy? You can't talk or something?” He then s.h.i.+fted targets and directed his next question at Tim, ”How much?”
”Five thousand dollars.”
Tony liked that number. ”When do you need him?”
”As soon as possible.”
”Does the man have a family?”
”No. He's all alone.”
”That's too bad,” Tony said and meant it. That obvious lead was scratched. ”Where's he from?”
”Nowhere.” Tim answered him with that same stare again.
”Nowhere?” Tony repeated.
Tim nodded.
”Well, how do you get in contact with him?”
”Cell phone,” Tim answered.
”You contact your gun for hire by cell phone?” Tony rolled his eyes in disbelief. ”f.u.c.k man, anyone could be listening in!”