“It really is.”

“Fine. A million dollars as a retainer, ten thousand a day plus expenses, twenty-five thousand for each name on the list that I locate, and another million when I find the boy with no name.”

The two men stared each other down; Colby waited for Dorn to leave.

“Done,” Dorn said.

Colby almost did a double take straight out of the movies. “What?”

“I agree to your terms.”

Colby shifted in his chair to find a more comfortable position. It was his worst tell when playing high-stakes poker and had lost him a lot of money through the years. What cards does Dorn hold?

“Those fees are unreasonable,” Colby said, cautiously.

“Are you that good?”

“Yeah, I’m that good, but…”

“Others have failed. I need results.”

With two million dollars cash, Colby could buy his way off the continent without a passport. He could start life over in a country without an extradition treaty. He could even set up a trust fund for Tory, try to make up for being a lousy father. He had just been handed a way out of the mess that was his life.

“You can wire these funds internationally?” Colby asked.

“Even to Antarctica,” Dorn said, smiling.

“Tell me more about the kid.”

“I have never seen the child. His last known location was Dutchess County, New York, thirteen years ago. He bears a red birthmark above his left scapula. Symian will provide a detailed file.”

“Symian?”

“Our colleague. He is taking care of business with your woman.”

Colby grinned. “Ms. Hernandez is engaged to be married to a Marine. He’s back from Afghanistan next week.”

“Symian is adept at winning women’s hearts,” said the swarthy twin in the corner, with an amused expression.

“This boy,” Colby started, getting back to the job that would save his life, “are you his biological father?”

“Relative,” Dorn said.