Price of a Bounty - By S. L. Wallace Page 0,59
man in a tuxedo sat at a piano in the middle of the room, and though a number of people were dancing, the parquet dance floor was not overly crowded.
I stepped down off the bar stool and made my approach.
“I love this song,” I gushed and looked directly at the man in the grey suit. “Don’t you?”
His friend nudged him with his elbow.
“Uh, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to dance?”
“I’d love to!” I took his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor.
As we swayed to the music, I moved closer. He smiled. I gently nuzzled his earlobe and whispered, “What do you need?”
He smiled. “What are you offering?”
“To help you move up the chain of command.”
Startled, he began to pull away. I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Don’t. You’ll draw attention.”
He moved close again, and we continued to dance.
“I overheard you and your friend talking, and I believe I can help. What would allow your company to move ahead of your competitor and also impress your boss?”
“Who are you?”
“It’s better that you don’t know, especially if you decide to hire me, but you didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you take some time to think it over? I’ll be here again tomorrow, same time.” The song ended. I kissed him lightly on the cheek and thanked him for the dance. Then I turned and walked away.
***
The next evening, I returned to The Dry Martini. My mark stood at the bar looking just a little nervous. He hadn’t spotted me yet. As I walked past, I discreetly took his wallet.
I chose a seat at a small round table, checked his ID and waited for him to notice me. A few minutes later, he sat down.
I smiled. “You’ve decided to accept my offer.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m not sure.”
I rested my hand lightly on top of his. “Yes, you are.”
“How much would something like this cost?”
“It depends on your needs.”
He reached into his pocket, then handed me a rumpled business card.
“Cybonautics – the security company?” I looked at him, and he nodded.
“That’s the president of Cybonautics. I’d like his data processor access codes. Can you get them for me?”
“40,000 gats,” I suggested.
“That seems steep. How about 20?”
“Have you ever done anything like this before?”
He just stared back.
“35? The payoff for you would be well worth it.” I paused to let that sink in.
He narrowed his eyes. “30 thousand.”
“Done. No payment will be due until the job is complete.”
“If I don’t need to pay until the end, why would I pay you at all?”
“You didn’t really just ask that. Did you?”
“You’re willing to take the job, and you don’t even know who I am.”
I smiled and held out his wallet. “Brody Delaney, soon to be executive officer of CalTech Security, if you don’t blow it.”
He reached for his wallet and began to thumb through it.
“Everything is there, minus one business card.” I held it up. “I’d like to keep it, if you don’t mind.”
He nodded once. “I accept your terms.”
“Then we have a deal. In two weeks, we’ll meet back here, at say…7:00? I’ll bring you the codes, and you’ll bring me the money.”
“Why so long?”
“Long? For a job like this? The president of a security company… Stealing the codes from his office would be close to impossible as a solo mission. I’ll need to get into his house. Even that will be tricky. I need time.”
“You’re sure you can do this?”
“I can, and I will.” I smiled. “How about one more dance?” It felt good to be back in the game.
He stood and held out his hand. I placed my fingers gently onto his palm, and we moved onto the dance floor.
-Keira-
A Job Gone Wrong
It was nearly midnight when I walked upstairs from the servants’ quarters. Gaining access to the house had been fun. The butler liked to play drinking games at a local pub on his night off. I’d won, of course. He was having so much fun that I doubted he even realized he’d brought me home. At least he remembered the passcode to get back into the manor. I smiled. Guy would be pleased that I hadn’t been hired to kill.
Silently, I moved through the kitchen and down a dark hallway. The moon offered the only light. Even so, I had no difficulty finding the office on the first floor. But what’s this? An unexpected silhouette cast a shadow against the far wall. The safe was open and the person appeared to