Part 8 (1/2)
”I'll need a weapon,” he finally said.
Tim shook his head. ”There'll be no need for one.”
”No need?” Tony repeated. ”What the f.u.c.k do you mean 'no need?' You're just after telling me that I'm after the f.u.c.king terminator who's probably responsible for all your other servants being cut down, and you expect me to go after him without a weapon?”
There was a silence then as Tim simply sat and stared at the empty mug before him. ”I don't think you'll need one at all, Mr. Levin. You would be only tempting fate. I do know that he doesn't use one at all.”
”Well, how's he been killin' off your people?”
”I never said he was. I said our operatives had disappeared while trying to locate him. I happen to think they aren't dead,” Tim suddenly became apprehensive. ”Merely rendered inactive. Somehow.”
”Uh-huh.” Inactive, my a.s.s, Tony thought. ”You have any objections to me having a weapon then?”
”What kind?” Tim wanted to know.
”What the f.u.c.k do you mean 'what kind?'” Tony barked, causing the man across from him to flinch. ”A f.u.c.kin' weapon! An honest to Christ elephant gun if I can get my f.u.c.king hands on one! Whatever I can dig up on short notice. Look. Don't worry, I won't kill your guy. Maybe mess him up a little, but I won't kill him.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Fred smile. The teeth revealed were pearl white and feral looking. Teeth for tearing things.
”What?” Tony turned on him. Fred shook his head, obviously amused about something.
”You only have to find the man and contact us,” Tim said.
”I can, y'know,” Tony directed at Fred, wanting to wipe that smirk off the man's face. ”Especially if he operates like you. f.u.c.kin' especially if he looks like you.”
The smile on Fred's face broadened. Alien smile. Tony matched it with the monsters from those Alien movies. Big, f.u.c.king alien, s.h.i.+t-a.s.s grin.
”Mr. Levin, please,” Tim implored. ”Ignore him. He isn't the one you want. Mr. Franklin is out there, and I hope you find him. If you must have a weapon, then do so if it'll make you feel better, but I'll stress again that you are only required to find the man and call us when you do.”
Tony took a deep breath. No, sir. He did not care for Fred with the football-shaped skull. Not in the least. If he had had his bat in hand, there would have been most certainly a ball game and a short one at that.
”Fine. I'll use this,” Tony held up the Nokia phone. ”I'll do it. I'll find the guy for ya. For five thousand. I'll find him, and I'll call you. When do you want me to start?”
”Immediately,” Tim looked immensely relived. That suited Tony just fine, and he took another look at his clock.
It remained 5:44.
”I'll need gas money too,” Tony stated as an afterthought. ”Expenses over the five thousand.”
”Mr. Fred,” Tim beckoned. Fred came forth. In his hands was a billfold thick enough to be a pillow. All hundreds.
”Been busy sucking, eh?” Tony said, pumping his fist in front of his mouth for added effect. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the money a beat later, opening it and flipping through its wealth.
”That should be enough,” Tim said.
Tony flexed his brow in agreement. ”Should be. Anything I don't use I'll return.”
”That's fine.”
”Anything else?” Tony asked. He was feeling much better now that he had hard cash in his paws.
”No, I think that's everything.”
”Don't expect miracles,” Tony grumped. ”I think I can find him. With this anyway. Just give me a couple of weeks.”
”Time is a human measure,” Tim said, his eyes crinkling at their corners. ”I hope you are able to find him faster than that.”
”No guarantees there,” Tony said. He was wondering if the man actually knew anything about finding a missing person. If they were just missing, there was a better chance of finding them, which was a low percentage to begin with. If the person was dead or, even better, not wanting to be found, things got even rougher. But he was being paid, so he felt he should say something inspiring. ”If he's on the continent, I'll find him.”
For a moment, just a flicker of time, something in Tim's expression changed. It seemed like the man's face softened, as if he were a father looking upon his son. And then it was gone. ”That's acceptable.”
The man glanced at his standing companion. ”Well, we'll be on our way then.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. ”Thank you for the juice.”
Tony remained sitting.
”It's a cold morning, Mr. Levin. You'd do best to dress warm. Probably minus twenty five out there.”
”I'll get out my mittens.” Tony grunted. He was keeping an eye on good, old, egghead Fred.
”A good idea,” Tim agreed with a nod. ”Oh, and if you do manage to find our man within the week, I'm willing to add a considerable bonus.”
”Yeah? How much?”
”Five thousand on top of your fee. An incentive if you like. Acceptable?”
”If I find him in a week? By next Tuesday?”
”Yes.”
”I can just call?”
”Yes.”
”You don't need proof?”
This made Tim smile. The glow could have warmed the old apartment for a year. ”I trust you, Mr. Levin.”
The pair of men moved towards the door, Fred with his head down. Tim pulled his toque over his head and smiled at Tony one last time, his grey eyes aglitter.
”Happy hunting, Mr. Levin.”
With that, he opened the door and stepped through. Fred followed him out but paused just beyond the threshold. He fixed Tony with black s.h.i.+ning eyes. Without a word, the man pulled the door closed. It went to with the barest of sounds, mindful of the neighbours.
Freaky, flashed in Tony's mind.