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have a heart attack right where he sat just remembering how quickly she'd gotten into his face. If there ever was a next time, he'd be smart to dust her on sight, and from as long a range as possible.
    L. Kahn dabbed at his face with a brown handkerchief, and said, "Let us call a draw a draw and get on to biz."
    "We still got something to talk about?"
    "If we didn't, you would be dead."
    "You got a dangerous mouth, my man."
    "I can afford it."
    Abruptly, a pair of small red blips caught Rico's attention. Waving around and around in circles on his chest A third blip ran in circles up and down Shank's side. They weren't part of the stroboscopic light effects from the club's main floor. They were targeting sights. Rico ran his eyes around, vision shifting to infrared to microchip-enhanced, but he couldn't spot the shooters. Too much ambient heat too many bodies on the main floor all moving asynchronously. L. Kahn had pros backing him up. At least three of them.
    Where the frag was Piper? Rico wondered. Was she safe? He hoped she was under wraps as good as L. Kahn's shooters.
    "Ask your friend to relax," L. Kahn said. "We'll talk." Rico motioned with his chin. Shank was down on one knee, using the skimpy railing that guarded the edge of the balcony to gain what cover he could from L. Kahn's shooters. With a growl and a sneer, he slid his automatic under his jacket Ravage set the table upright on its pedestal and returned it to its place. She did that one-handed, and the table looked heavy. She smiled as she sat down opposite Rico. It was just a glimmer of a smile. On her it looked like a death grin.
    "So talk," Rico said.
    L. Kahn nodded. "Explications first. My clients are powerful people. When they make a contract they expect it to be fulfilled. And I will see them satisfied. If you take my money, you will complete the contract in full. When time is an issue, and for this job, time is an issue, I accept no refunds. You will do the job or face the consequences."
    Do the job or die. Almost common enough to be considered standard terms. "You think I'm an amateur?" Rico snarled. "I don't need guano like this. You tell me what the job is and I'll tell you if I'm interested."
    L. Kahn seemed unaffected: cool and calm. Rico envied the slag his self-control. Nothing seemed to undo him, even spit in the face. "The job is a bustout."
    "I don't do snatches."
    "It's a recovery."
    "Keep talking."
    "The subject to be recovered was in fact snatched. The job is to bring the subject home. This particular subject is highly ranked in a particular field and is therefore of high value. The snatching entity has threatened the subject's spouse, thus forcing the subject to contribute substantially to the snatching entity's various enterprises."
    "You're talking about corporate entities."
    "Don't ask for specifics unless you're accepting the job."
    "Sure. Where's this spouse you mentioned?"
    "The spouse remains under the protection of the home entity and will not be a factor in completing the contract. Your only concern will be to recover the subject and deliver the subject unharmed at a specified time and place."
    "What's the security threat?"
    "It has been assessed as Code Orange."
    "A or double-A security."
    "Correct."
    "So it ain't Fuchi-Town."
    "Obviously."
    The immense complex that included the five sky-raking towers of Fuchi-Town in lower Manhattan had triple-A security, also called Code Red. Fuchi used everything to keep the facility secure: armed guards, electronics, magic. You didn't go up against security like that unless you had a back door or the possibility of making one-and even then it would probably still be a suicide run. "Tell me about your Code Orange."
    "Are you accepting the contract?"
    "Not without more data."
    "You have all the data you need."
    "Not to talk money."
    "Then you are accepting the contract."
    "With conditions. If you don't make the money worth the risk, forget it. If you lie, forget it. If this turns out to be a