Bet Your Life Page #3

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player's card, the very same

card that is in your

pocket right now.

The same card that has your

fingerprints all over it.

Sonny...

- or should I say Mr. Patterson?

- Peterson.

Peterson.

Does any of this sound familiar?

I don't know what you're talking about.

You're nuts.

I'm just telling you what I saw in the alley...

and I did see you take that poor man's card.

It was you. You're the damn shooter.

You killed that guy in the alley.

I wonder what the cops will think when

they're presented with this evidence.

I don't know what's

going on here.

And to be quite honest, I really

don't want to know.

C'mon, it's too late for that now.

I didn't even see your

face out there.

We'll forget any of this

happened, alright?

Alright. Go right ahead.

Go on, go, go home.

It's going to take a lot more than money

to patch things up with Salvatore.

Wonder just how long you're gonna

last with his goons gunning for you.

What do you want from me?

Bingo.

Gambling and football are games.

One requires luck,

the other skill.

But what they both share in common

is that the game stays

the same, only the

outcome changes.

That's what keeps us

coming back for more.

That's why we're

hooked, right?

Why are you telling

me all of this?

Because I want to play

a game with you.

What kind of game?

A game where the outcome won't

depend on the spin of the wheel

or the roll of the dice.

It'll depend on you Sonny.

Your moves. The decisions you make.

Be just like old times.

- What are you getting at?

- You ever read any Hemingway?

It's fascinating,

the carnal behavioral patterns

during the thrill

of the kill.

The love of the hunt, even for the prey.

I'm afraid I'm not following you.

Quite simply, I want to hunt you.

I want to hunt you down

like an animal, Sonny.

I want to match my wits

against yours.

If I catch you, I kill you

If you can outmaneuver me, stay

alive for the next twenty-four hours...

you will win two point

four million dollars.

That is one hundred

thousand for every hour.

Now, the stakes are high,

but so are the rewards.

This is some kind of joke, right?

Only if the dead guy in the alley

is a punch line, yeah.

He was playing

your game?

And quite well I

might add.

If he had stayed alive for another ten

minutes, he'd be a rich man now.

Why do you do this?

I'm a gambler, like you.

No, I don't-I don't

hurt people.

Really? What about

your ex-wife?

Your friends, family and all that people

you conned and borrowed money from.

I bet they'd have a

different story to tell.

Nothing personal, but you're insane if

you think I'd sign up for this.

Ah, let me show you something

that might change your mind.

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