Thirst No. 3 by Christopher Pike Page B

balls? You really might let me go?”
    “You sound like Michelle.”
    “Don’t screw with me.”
    “Relax. Did you question any of IIC’s other contracts?”
    “No.”
    “Did you question Randy?”
    “I wanted to, but he had a gun. I had to move fast.”
    “Was he your last hit?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you have a contract for another?”
    “Yeah. It’s IIC-related. The . . . well . . .” He doesn’t finish.
    “You were going to mention the file. I want to see that file.”
    He speaks with force. “It’s in a vault in my office. Go in there and you’ll run into my wife or my kids. I can’t risk that.”
    “I can be in and out in a minute if you give me the combination to your vault. And I can promise they won’t see me.”
    “No one can promise that.”
    “See how easily I hid from you? Mr. Marko the Magnificent. Tell me what I want to know. This is a deal breaker.”
    He sighs. “The vault’s behind a painting behind my desk. Sixteen right. Nineteen left. Three right. Four left. Then spin the dial clockwise three times to clear it before you try to open it. Otherwise, it will trip an alarm and tip off Rita.”
    “You sound like you care for the old broad.”
    “She’s been good to me. We’ve been good for each other.”
    “Do you work for any other brokers?”
    “No. I make enough with Rita.”
    “Good. Because Randy was your last job.”
    “You can’t be serious?”
    “I’m very serious.”
    “What if I promise to turn down all IIC jobs from now on?”
    “Promise all you want. But know if you leave town in the next thirty years—for any reason whatsoever—I’ll hunt you down and kill you and everyone in your family. If you doubt my sincerity, test me and take a drive to Cedar Rapids next month. Your son will be dead the next day.”
    “These conditions are highly unprofessional.”
    “I told you, I’m not a professional.”
    “You can’t set up a wall around this town.”
    “I don’t need a wall, just a few informants. Besides, you saw how easily I found you. It’ll be just as easy to track you.”
    He considers. “I was thinking of retiring anyway.”
    I hear truth in his words. “The kids?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Tell me what Michelle meant by the Antichrist.”
    “How should I know? She was raving. She knew she was about to die.”
    I can’t argue. “I’m going to give you two names: Lisa Fetch and Jeff Stephens. If you hear of a contract that’s been put out on them, you’re to alert me immediately.”
    “What’s in it for me?”
    “A large check.”
    “I prefer cash.”
    “Fine. Call this number.” I have him memorize a private phone line I keep for such purposes. “Are we clear about everything?” I ask when we’re done.
    “I still don’t want you in my house.”
    “That’s the least of your worries. You’ll see a light go on in my car when I’m about to leave. It’s parked at the end of your driveway. Don’t speak to your wife until I’m gone.”
    “I can’t believe you’re going to let me live.”
    “Miracles never cease. Two last points. Did you see any data files Randy had in his possession? Ones that related to IIC?”
    “No. But I was given strict instructions to destroy his computers. He had six.”
    “What kind of security does Rita keep?”
    “She lives with her boys—the three youngest: Mad Max, Slim, Fats. They’re not professional. They catch you and they’ll skin you alive. Please, if they do catch you, don’t . . .”
    “Don’t mention your name, I got it. How’s the leg?”
    “I’ll live.”
    “That’s right. You’ll live in Fairfield until the day you die. Capisce?”
    “Capisce,” he agrees. Then he asks, “May I ask a question?”
    “Yes.”
    “Who the hell are you?”
    I stand in the dark and begin to move away.
    “Someone you don’t want to meet twice,” I reply.
    Back in Cedar Rapids, in the airport parking lot, I study the file I stole from Marko’s house. The contract is on a seventeen-year-old girl