Risk

The Other Phone Call

Mr. Smith sat back in his chair and observed his two associates sitting across the table from him. He crossed his arms and inhaled slowly before beginning.

“What we have is not sufficient. There is more to this, and we cannot deliver it incomplete. Our buyer will be seriously displeased at this paucity of information. The whole contract might be canceled, and I do not just mean financially. You have no idea with whom you are dealing.”

“But we looked everywheyah. I’m tellin ya, I know dose files bettah danda effin secretary.”

“And dat's anudda point. Why can’tcha tell us who da fuck it is weah dealin witt, Smithy? Cause I’m gettin pretty fuckin tired a listenin tuh you. Maybe I should be dealin direckly witt da buy-ah.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see you dealing directly with this party, but sadly, that's not in my best interests. Or yours.”

“Take it easy, da boatayah. Whudda we gonna do about dis? Maybe we should be talkin to owah so-called ‘contact,’ who doesn’t seemda gave us da whole story.”

“Yeah, dat little fuckah scammed us from da staht, and is probly spending owah money right now. Lemme talk tuh him foah five minutes and da basstid’ll be drawin us da plans from memory.”

“That’s not going to—”

“Who da fuck is at gonna be?”

“Well, why not just pick up the phone and find out?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi, this is Rick Savage.”

“Who da fuck?”

“Your contact. I talked to Mr. Smith before.”

“Well, well, you fuckin little prick. We wah just talkin about ya. Now youwah gonna tell me who da fuck gave you dis numbah, befoah I come and beatiddowdaya.”

“It was Mr. Smith.”

“Oh, yeah? (Da guy’s sayin you gave him dis numbah. Izzat right? Hello? I said, izzat right?)”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Okay, den, Mistah Savage. Let’s heah whadda ya got, cause I’m about ready da come and knock in ya fuckin head widda ratchet, just fadda aggravation ya caused me.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. The new contract is in. I can tell you where to find the plans you want.”

“That’s bettah. Wheyah do I find em, and I mean tell me ezzackly.”

“It’s in a document safe, in the office, behind the locked files. The files are a dummy, the safe’s built into the wall and bolted down.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us this before?”

“They just put it in yesterday. The place was crawling with FBI. You’d better be careful; I think they’ve beefed up security.”

“I shuwah hope dey have, cause it was pretty fuckin pathetic befoah. But I’m touched dat you’d worry abowdus like dat.”

“Now this information is above and beyond what we agreed before, and I think I should be paid extra. I’ve put myself at great personal risk.”

“Yeah, shuwah. Da chexin da mail. Made oud da Prick Savage, Bank a Fuck You.”

“That was hardly a cordial way to hang up on a man who has served us so well.”

“Whatevah. I get da feelin he’s still joikin us aroun. Why wuddee tell us all dat widdout getting da money up front like last time?”

“Because I asked him to. I can be very persuasive.”

“Whut about dat name? Isn’t ‘Rick Savage’ a porn star name oah sumtin?”

“Yes, that’s very astute. It was a fake name.”

“Well, what’s his real fuckin name, in case I wanna drop in on him?”

“You need not know that. Let us concentrate on the task at hand, gentlemen. Payday is almost upon us, and then you will both be very rich men.”

“Just tell me wheyah and when.”

“I think tonight. Before they have a chance to put any more security in place.”

“Sounds good tuh me. I’m pretty fuckin sick of sittin aroun, telya da trute.”