On the night of December thirty-first at eight fifteen, Yusuf Zuck drove his pickup truck to the outside of the New Century Hotel and once again met Anais Dillon and Isaac Quintana, who had both been holding their positions here for a day.
"No one who went in has come out since, and no one came by in the afternoon either," Anais Dillon said, sitting in Yusuf Zuck's vehicle and looking at him oddly, "What kind of game are you and that Lucy Clayton playing, Mr. Zuck?"
"No game, well, you both have worked hard today, you can go back now. Wait for my call in the next few days, find some time to come out for a drink and meal," replied Yusuf Zuck.
"Alright then, we'll really be going, it's too cold outside after dark." Anais Dillon and Isaac Quintana did not ask further. What Yusuf Zuck was up to was none of their business, so they headed home as he asked them to leave.