New Yorkers were notorious for invading the space of others. That’s what happened when you packed eight million people onto a thirty square mile plot of land. But even New Yorkers didn’t share tables without asking.
Vinny had opened his mouth to say something quintessentially New York, like,“Yo. What the fuck, bruh?”But the little man with the hard eyes had beat him to the punch.
“Hello Vincent. Or would you rather I call you Vinny?”
The man’s thick accent was one Vinny had recognized from his trips to Chinatown for dim sum.
“Who the fuck are you?”he’d demanded, looking around the deli to see if the little man had friends.
He hadn’t.
At least none that Vinny had seen.
“My name is not important. But my offer is.”
The sandwich Vinny had been mowing down turned to a stone at the bottom of his stomach.
“I know this is New York,”he’d said with what he’d hoped looked like casual boredom.“And I know I’m Italian. But this ain’tThe Godfather. No man can make me an offer I can’t refuse.”
A confident, knowing expression had spread across Yang’s face—although it wasn’t until later that Vinny had learned the little man was called Yang—as he sat back in the chair and cocked his head.“You can refuse it. But I do not think you will want to.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because my offer comes with a two-million-dollar paycheck.”
Even though Vinny had worked hard to keep his expression blank, he hadn’t been able to stop his right eye from twitching with sudden interest.“What’s the catch?”
When it came to two rocks, there wasalwaysa catch.
“You must move to Texas, get a job at a power plant outside of Austin, and when the time is right, plant some malware.”The little man had patted his breast pocket and Vinny’s eyes had recognized the outline of a thumb drive.
“Right.”He’d nodded.“Except I don’t want to move to Texas. I have a grandmother who depends on me to do her shopping. Plus, guys down there fuck their cows and their sisters.”
“It will not be for long. Three months, maybe. Four maximum. And you can use an app to have your grandmother’s food delivered.”
Vinny’s heart had started pounding at the thought of making two million simoleons for three, maybe four months of work.
“Okay. But then there’s the problem of me not having any experience working in a power plant. I’m no electrical engineer or—”
“We have fabricated all the experience and credentials you will need for the job,”Yang had interrupted.
Glancing around the deli again, Vinny had noted the couple seated at a table by the front window—tourists by the looks of their sneakers. They’d been more interested in making googly eyes at each other than watching the uncomfortable exchange between the two men sitting in the back.
Returning his attention to the stranger sitting across from him, he’d asked the one, all-important question that’d been burning in his brain since the offer had been made.“Why me?”
Again that soft smile. It had been incongruous when paired with Yang’s flinty, soulless eyes.“Because you are the right color. You are the right sex. And you have the skills we will need to make this endeavor successful.”
Vinny had opened his mouth to ask another question, but Yang had added,“Plus, we have been watching you for a while now. You are smart and careful. You lay low and do not draw attention to yourself.”
“I obviously drewyourattention,”Vinny had countered.
“Yes. But that is only because we have eyes everywhere.”
That pronouncement had made Vinny’s stomach sour.“Whoareyou?Who do you work for?”
“All in good time,”Yang had promised.“For now. Think about my offer.”He’d slid the thumb drive across the table and Vinny had instinctively curled it into his hand.“I will contact you again in three days.”
Before Vinny could object, Yang had pushed up from the table and exited the deli.
