Free Outsourced by Dave Zeltserman Page A

started tapping his chin with his thumb. His eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling. “The weasel, huh?”
    “That’s right.”
    Gordon lowered his gaze to Dan’s face. His features had changed, becoming grimmer, harder, and it took Dan by surprise. He had never seen Gordon like that.
    “You’re not pulling some weird joke on me?” Gordon asked.
    Dan shook his head.
    “Shrini and the Weasel. Wow. Well, guess what? You can count me in.”
    “Do you want to know the details?”
    “No, you know me. I’m not a big picture guy. All I want to know is my piece. Let me just focus on that.”
    Dan nodded, fully expecting that answer, just as he had fully expected Gordon to go along with the robbery. He couldn’t help thinking how the line from that old Dylan song, There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke , fit Gordon perfectly.
    “Instead of robbing a bank,” Gordon said slowly, his gaze moving away from Dan, “I’ve been thinking about something lately that would be easier and probably far more profitable. We could take one of Peyton’s kids.”
    “Gordon, let’s pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Sure you do, you know, kidnapping, ransom. We could probably squeeze several million from Peyton.”
    “You’re not serious.”
    “Why not? If you’re going to propose robbing a bank, why not this instead? It would be a lot easier.”
    “How in the world could it possibly work? Peyton’s kids know us. They’d identify us once we let them go.”
    “Well, you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.”
    “Gordon, come on.”
    “You can’t tell me Peyton wouldn’t deserve it.” Gordon paused for a moment, choking back emotion. “He’s been dangling that restaurant in front of me for three years now – ever since I was laid off. That was all his idea, investing in an open-pit Texas-style barbecue for me to run. He came to me with it. And he’s been bringing it up for three years. Yesterday for the first time I tried asking him about it, and all of a sudden he doesn’t want to do business with a friend. Can you believe that, Dan? He’s sitting on eight million dollars and all of a sudden he doesn’t want to invest sixty thousand dollars to do business with a friend.”
    “Let’s drop this, okay?”
    “Sure, we can drop it, but I’ll tell you, I’d have no problem kidnapping one of his kids. Probably even enjoy taking care of that brat of his, Petulia.”
    “I don’t want to hear this. We’re not hurting anyone, especially not a kid. For God’s sakes, we’ve known Peyton for years.”
    “Sure, whatever, I was just throwing out an idea. What do you want me to do for this robbery?”
    “Turn on your computer and I’ll show you.”
    Gordon obliged. After the computer came on, Dan did a search on the Internet and brought up a color photo of a member of the Boston mafia named Raymond Lombardo. “I’m hoping all those years you’ve spent doing makeup for community theatre can finally be of some use. Can you make me look like him?” Dan asked.
    “Depends. You need to be more specific.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Do you have to look like him from a distance, from up close, or good enough to fool his mother? Stuff like that. How much do you need to look like him?”
    “Enough so that he’s identified by video from a security camera.”
    “How tall is he?”
    “My height.”
    Gordon squinted at the photo, appraising it. “He looks heavier than you.”
    “Yeah, he is. About sixty pounds.”
    “I think I can do it,” Gordon said, nodding to himself. “I’m going to have to add some padding, make you look heavier. What are you going to be wearing?”
    “Work overalls.”
    “Okay, no problem there. You’ll need a wig and facial hair. I should be able to build you a thicker jaw and nose. Maybe have you wear dark glasses to hide your eyes. Sure, I can do it.”
    “I don’t need the dark glasses. I’ve already got cosmetic contact