The phone rang. George picked it up.

"Hello."

"This is..." "I know who it is," George.

"Did you get the last payment?"

"Yes."

"Good," the voice replied.

The voice sounded nervous. George was not sure he liked that. Nervous people had a tendency to make mistakes.

"Is there something else I can do for you?" he inquired.

"As a matter of fact..."

Another job. Excellent. George had no idea who his employer was, nor did he care. He did not even know if the voice on the other end of the phone was calling the shots or merely a go between It did not matter.

This was a job where you asked no questions. George did his work, collected his pay, and moved on. Questions were irrelevant.

"I'm listening," he said.

"The last job I gave you... it went smoothly? There were no problems?"

"You read the papers. What do you think?"

"Yes, well, I just wanted to make sure. You have Dr. Grey's files?"

"Right here," George said.

"When do you want to arrange a pickup?"

"Soon. Have you been wearing the gloves and a mask like I told you?"

"Yes."

"And nothing else happened?"

George wondered for a moment if he should tell his employer about the package Bruce Grey had mailed at the airport. But no, it was none of George's concern. He had been hired to kill the man; make it look like a suicide; grab any files or papers he had on him; cut a page out his passport; and leave all money, personal effects, and identification untouched. Period. Nothing about mailed packages.

Except of course, it was his concern. He should never have let Grey mail that package. It was a mistake, George was sure of it, but there had been no way to stop him. He shook his head.

Maybe he should have done some more background checking before he signed on for this job. Something about it was not right.

"Nothing else," George said.

"You sure?"