Some were simple spreadsheets with names and office assignments. Other sheets looked like complex astrological charts by way of NASA eggheads. Coop dropped them on the table.
âI was going over these last night.â
âAnd what do you think? Can we do the job?â
âNo.â
âWhat?â said Morty. He choked on a mouthful of burger and grabbed a cup of coffee to keep from passing out, only to end up burning his tongue. âWhuh doo ya min we cand doo id?â
Coop smacked him on the back.
âWhat do you mean we canât do it? We told Mr. Babylon we would. I donât want to go back there with bad news and have him shoot me with one of those heat ray guns.â
âDonât worry. It was a liquefaction curse. There wasnât any heat involved.â
âOh. That makes me feel better. You can remind me of that when housekeeping is sponging me off the floor.â
âRelax,â said Coop. âI said we couldnât do it. I didnât say it couldnât be done. Itâs just that I was hoping to keep the job between us. Split the money two ways. With the bonus, weâd have made a hundred and fifty K each.â
âBut we need more people.â
Coop nodded. He tore open a burger and took a bite. It was good. The best thing heâd eaten in eighteen months.
âHow many more people?â said Morty.
âThatâs what Iâve been thinking about. If these blueprints are accurate, thereâs serious corporate security all through the building. Curses. Labyrinths. That kind of thing. Then thereâs pass codes on all the locks, plus video surveillance and armed guards.â
âSound like weâre going to need a small army.â
âThat would be helpful.â
Morty set down his burger. âIâve lost my appetite.â
âDonât be like that,â said Coop. âIâve been going over this all night. I think maybe we can pull this off with four people. The right four people.â
Morty sat back up in his chair. âFourâs not so bad. How much is three hundred thousand divided by four?â
âSeventy-five thousand dollars each.â
Morty picked up his burger and took a bite. âAs far as bad news goes, that ainât bad.â
âYouâre right. It could be a lot worse.â Coop worked on his burger and fries, pushing the pages around on the table for something like the fiftieth time that day.
âSo, who are the other two people we need?â
Coop finished his burger, wadded up the paper and tossed it overhand at the kitchen trash. It bounced off the rim, skittered acrossa counter, bounced off a sugar bowl back toward the trash. And missed it by an inch. Story of my life, he thought as he walked into the kitchen to throw the paper away.
He said, âWeâre off to an okay start. You can flash and I can crack, so we have the locks and the safe taken care of. What we need is a good eyeball person to look out for traps and a getaway person to get us out of there.â
âJust a Handyman and a Marilyn? Thatâs all?â
âNo. We can get the box with us and those other two, but thereâs the small matter of getting away at the end,â said Coop.
âYeah. I vote we get away. Any dissents? No? The motion is carried.â
Coop opened one of the ketchup containers, dipped some of his fries, and ate them. He chewed slowly and thoroughly.
âYou still chewing your cud over there?â said Morty. âIâm not going to have to milk you later, am I?â
Coop shook his head. âSorry. Tell me something. Whoâs the biggest rat bastard you know?â
âLike someone I donât particularly like or someone who should get run down by a bus?â
âA bus.â
Mortyâs face went blank. Coop was starting to think that maybe heâd given the poor guy a stroke when Morty smiled. âFast Eddie Lansdale,â he