The man’s hands were shaking, he knew that if he didn’t close this deal, his family was ruined. He picked up the briefcase; sat it in his lap, fumbled open the latches, thumbed through the files. The briefcase was worn, torn at the edges, obviously fake leather upon minimal scrutiny. He found the file that was needed, the one labeled “Organ Sale,” dug it out, shoved it across the table.
“The first page is just the typical mumbo jumbo. Go to the third page for a summary. After that is the detailed breakdown,” he said, dragging his hand across his brow, smearing the sweat there.
The buyer flipped open the file. He was very precise, straight to the third page, eyes flicking across the lines. His face betrayed nothing as he turned to the next page, skimming through the information with formal efficiency.
The man shifted in his seat causing the buyer to turn his gaze on him.
“Everything seems in order. You do understand that once the transfer is initiated, the terms are final?”
“Yessir. I understand. The wife and I have talked it over and we’ve had the family attorney review everything,” the man replied.
The buyer gave a sharp nod and produced a fountain pen from somewhere inside his double-breasted blazer. He initialed each page and signed the last one, returned the file to the man. The man picked up the pen on his side of the desk, the kind that had a little chain so that people couldn’t pocket it, scratched out his own initials and signature just the same.
By the time the man had finished signing everything, the buyer had the accounts pulled up. He initiated the currency transfer upon the last swipe of the man’s pen, the ink hadn’t even finished drying. Not a moment given to rethink things.
“Done. Your family will be able to access the funds immediately. Take the second door on the left, a Transplant Specialist will guide you through what you need to do next. You will have an opportunity to video up to four contacts for 30 minutes each prior to the termination process. Market Organs thanks you for your donation.”