RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block "Malum in se"

Ethan Jaspers looked down at his watch. She was ten minutes late. It was hot outside, but there was no way he was going to open a window. Ethan didn't enjoy sitting in his new BMW in a jail parking lot. There was something degrading and common about it. Most of the parked cars belonged to the Dallas County Sherrif's Office, but a few were from families visiting their relatives. They were all cheap Hondas and beat-up Fords. On the other side of the road were a few shacks with 'Bail Bonds' written in tacky colors and a car dealership.

The lobby doors opened, and she finally appeared. Her inky-black hair was a little bit longer than when he had last seen her. She had lost weight too, but probably more from stress and nerves than anything else. The last time Ethan had seen his sister, she was in the hospital, covered in bruises and cuts. Despite his wife's protests, he donated enough blood to keep her from dying.

And then he left the hospital before she was arrested for drug trafficing. So much for being a good brother.

He debated opening the door for her. Lucky for Ethan, an officer was following her, and was gentlemanly enough to open the door and help her inside. She nodded at the cop and waved as he shut the door. Then she turned and smiled at her big brother.

"Hey, Ethan."

"Hey, Vivian."

It was stiff and informal -- just the way Ethan's wife would have wanted it. He turned on the engine and drove out of the jail's parking lot -- and felt a little bit cleaner by doing so.

Vivian spoke first. "So, is Lucy at home with --"

"She took the kids to her mom's house." Ethan felt guilty for feeling so embarassed. For Christ's sake, this was his sister.

"I see." She turned towards Ethan and grinned. "She really doesn't approve of you doing this?"

"I set my foot down, this time." Why do I always managed to sound like a kept man? "I said you were my sister and I had an obligation to help you out."

They didn't speak the rest of the ride home. Ethan pulled into his house -- two car garage, two floors plus attic, green shutters, and a white picket fence. This time, in the garage, he went to the passanger side and pulled his sister out of the car.

"Thanks." She followed him into the kitchen. "You've got new countertops. Nice."

Ethan grabbed two glasses and began looking in the fridge for something to drink. "Lucy picked them out. Still think they're nice?"

"She picked you out. I won't complain about my sister-in-law's taste. Still, I was hoping I could see my own nieces and nephew. The house seems too quiet." She raised an eyebrow. "I take it she told them Aunt Vivi's been traveling in Europe? Or something silly like that."

"Actually, we told them you were taking classes in Austin again."

"Figures. What do you have to drink?"

"Lucy doesn't really approve of --"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need alcohol. A coke will be fine."

Ethan poured Vivian a glass. "So, how long are you going to be here? I've got the guest room ready for you, and you'll have your own bathroom --"

"I'm leaving tonight."

Ethan tipped the two-liter over. The soda spilled on the new Travertine. "What?"

Vivian just looked down at her drink. She tapped the glass, forcing some of the bubbles to surface. "I really don't belong here, Ethan. I never did, really. What happened was an embarassment for you, and I know it must be straining on your family. Besides, I have things to do."

Vivian left the kitchen and headed to the front door. Ethan followed, still confused. "Things? What kind of things?"

The mailman had already been by the house. Vivian picked up the mail, looked at each letter, and began handing them to Ethan. "Did you watch the trial?"

"A little."

"Did you hear my defense's arguement?" Ethan nodded. "Oh, of course you heard what the lawyer said, you paid for him, after all. He wasn't a very good lawyer. He was completely right about the drugs being planted on me, and he still didn't get me off."

"Wait, are you telling me you're innocent of the charges?"

"Of those particular charges? Yes." The only mail left was a large manilla envelope. Ethan saw it was addressed to her. Vivian used her fingers to rip it open. Inside was a new cell phone, a debit card, and car keys. Vivian began putting the new objects in her pockets. "Happy birthday to me."

Ethan tossed the mail on a desk. "What's going on? I believe you about the drugs being planted on you, but what are you up to now?"

Vivian just scowled at him. "Why are you asking guestions? Why are you just setting yourself up to be questioned by the police? I know I've done some bad things, but the person who's responsible for putting me in jail -- and the hospital -- is still sipping pina coladas on a resort."

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And you're going to get back at him? Is that it?"

Vivian didn't smile. It was then that Ethan noticed the thin scar that ran from her lip to near her nostril. The last trace of her stay in the hospital. He had forgotten she almost died there. "You don't understand a lick of what's happened to me. I didn't deserve it." Her eyes began watering. "And it was horrible. All -- all I want right now is get even. All I want is to --"

Vivian dropped the car keys and began sobbing. "It's okay." Ethan wrapped his arms around her. No matter what, she was his sister, and he had his duties. "How can your big brother help?"

*** *** ***

Ethan pulled over at the drop-off point at DFW International Airport. "I don't know if I should wish you good luck or not."

Vivian grinned. "Just pray you don't have to pick your little sister up from jail again." Her eyes soften, and the sarcasm stopped. "I'm really sorry I caused you this much trouble. You know that, right?"

Ethan tapped his fingers on the gear stick. "Yeah, I know. Just don't go in over your head, okay?"

She kissed him on the temple. "You'll find out if I do. Love you."

And only five hours after she was freed, Vivian was gone. Ethan just groaned. "What the hell am I going to tell Lucy?"

The American Eagle airline flight 3351 from Dallas arrived at Mobile Regional Airport only five minutes behind schedule. "Not too bad," Vivian thought, leaving the plane with the rest of the passengers. "This should only leave him another twenty five minutes if he's still as late as he used to be."

Leaving Gate 4, Vivian picked up the bags she'd found waiting for her in her prearranged vehicle back in Dallas. "I can't wait to ake a real shower, with real soap, and not have to. . ." She cut off the thought, not wanting to finish it. Prison had many ways of scarring people.

She boldly walked out of the airport, scanning the parking lot for her ride before a familiar voice interrupted her. "Been a while, Viv."

She saw the car first. The rusted out, dust covered 69 El Camino had seen far too many days. He leaned against it, arms folded over his chest, sporting a shit eating grin. He needed a shave. Probably a shower, too, judging by the rumpled black jacket and grey slightly stained button up shirt.

"You're on time for once, Seth." She walked over to the car and shoved her case at him. "Let's go."

"I came straight off the highway," he said, loading the case into the car before strapping himself behind the wheel. "You had the luxury of flying in. I was on the way back from a job in Florida."

"I think I deserve a little luxury affter what I've been through." Then, after a brief pause, "Where in Florida?"

They pulled out of the lot and onto Airport Boulevard, Seth knowing the route to Schillinger Road like the back of his hand. "Pensacola."

She couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Pensacola's not Florida." She teased him.

"Somebody should tell whoever makes those signs saying "Welcome to Florida" then. As I was saying, I came straight from Florida, after just getting back from Louisiana. I've been driving for most of the last two days."

She was beginning to loosen up a bit. Just a bit, though. "Where are we going, Seth?"

"My brother owns a rental property just ouside the city. There's nobody using it right now. He's letting me stay there for a bit while I'm in town."

"Look, don't get any funny ideas, Seth. . ."

"It's a two story, three bedrooms, two bathrooms. You won't even have to stay on the same floor if you don't want to."

His drifted over to her for a bit, before going back to the road. "But I'd hope after all this time. . ."

"Motherfucker!!!!!!! You abandoned me!!!!!!!!!!" She screamed at him.

"NO! I FOLLOWED THE PLAN! YOU GOT GREEDY AND GOT CAUGHT!! THAT WASN'T MY FAULT!!!!"

"MAYBE SO, ALRIGHT!!!!!!! MAYBE I DID!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DESERVED WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!!!!!!!"

". . .I never said you did."

They drove in silence after that, until they arrived at the house. "Here we are, 9226 Lake Woods Drive, home sweet hell." Pulling up into the driveway, he stopped alongside the house, rather than pull further back to the garage behind it.

She followed up the brick path and onto the porch, noting the green paint job. "Could've gotten a better color." She offered.

"I'll bring it up the next time I see Richie. Oh yeah, Richie, btw, my convict ex-wife says you have lousy taste in paint jobs."

"I'm just saying. Where's the closest bathroom?" She dropped the case as Seth flicked on the light switch.

"Take your pic, you can go down the hall, and on the right, or up the stairs and slightly left. Down the hall's nicer."

Vivian disappeared down the hallway quickly. "Same old Viv." Seth thought before walking down the same hallway and into the kitchen for a beer. "She'll probly wanna sleep down here and make me go up the stairs, too. . ."

A few minutes and another beer later, Vivian reemerged and found her way into the kitchen.

"So what now?" Seth asked, polishing off his second beer and moving towards the fridge for another.

"Now I'm gonna take a long shower, then lay down in a real bed for six hours, and when I get up I'm gonna make a few more phone calls. We're putting the band back together."

The empty beach was beautiful at sunset. The water slowly cralwed up the beach before retreating back. Sam took off his sunglasses so he could better take in the wonder of the moment.

He thought he heard his phone beep right before he turned it off. Oh well. If it was really important they could call him back. The reddish-orange glow that came from what was left of the sun could only be described as...

"Thearaputic," Sam turned realizing that he wasn't alone anymore. "Isn't it?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking. But what else would you expect from Lanikai?" He put his sunglasses back on even though night was quickly aproaching. "You know it gets harder and harder to enjoy beauty like this."

"I would imagine so, especially when you're working on keeping a low profile. Speaking of low profile, I hope our recent "business" hasn't caused you any complications.

"No complications Jason." He said gesturing for his friend to sit down. "You know how good I am at staying hidden. It's a requirement these days."

"Too many enemies?"

"Not really. Just two..." Sam paused. "Well really just one. The other is more of a missguided colleague."

"Missguided? How so?"

"Well," Sam sighed," She tried to kill me."

Jason sat up in his chair now more intrested than before. "She?" he asked."Where you two..."

" Nothing like that. She was a married woman."

Jason smiled. "That never stoped you before."

"True." Sam smiled back. "But this was business. I may be a bastard but even I've learned not to mix it with pleasure. Anyway, we had a crew. Pretty good too. We ran some good jobs. Everyone did their part and we split the take even."

"And then?"

"Well, that one enemy I told you about? He convinced her that I was a rat for the cops. He brought her files, photographs...the whole nine. Well when she confronted me I tried to tell her otherwise."

"How did that go?" Jason asked with anticipation

"I punched her." Sam confessed.

"You what?!"

"Yeah. Square across the chin."

Jason couldn't help but to laugh. "Man, you really are a bastard."

"That I am. But I'm no rat."

"So, what happend next?"

"Naturally, she didnt take it well." Sam chuckled. "So she reached for her gun and began shooting. She didnt hit me but she tore up my car pretty good while I was escaping."

"Damn man. Thats a pretty fucked up way to end what sounded like a sweet thing."

"Yeah." Sam sighed.

"You miss it don't you?"

"You know me better than that. The only regret I have is not getting back at the bastard truly responsible. Instead I've been hidding out here. Hidding like a fucking coward!" He sounded ashamed.

"Why didnt you go after him?"

"He's...practically untouchable. Even for me." Sam admitted. He suddenly remembered his phone.

"Well if you gotta go underground, you can't go wrong moving to Hawaii."

Sam turned his phone back on and took of his sunglasses again. Someone had left him a text message. It read:

Getting the group back together
Seems we have a common enemy
Meet in New York if interested






oh....and you're no rat

Vivian

Sam couldn't help but to smile. "I'll be damned. Hmmm..." Jason stared at his friend wondering what had seemed to amuse him. "Well, looks like I'm off to New York." he said standing up reaching for his keys.

Jason gazed on perplexed. "And just what is it that would make you leave such lovely thearaputic surroundings?"

Sam walked a few steps toward his car before he answered. " The only two things that I really care about anymore: Money and Revenge."

The south side didn't seem like home anymore, and he couldn't decide if it was him or it that had changed more. He'd started out here, a petty criminal, but he'd escaped thanks to the army.

He'd changed. This place changed.

Hell, the Sox won the World Series while he'd been gone. Where was he then? He'd moved around so much it was hard to remember. He'd escaped from the army too. Became a mercenary. In the end, the army had just made him a more dangerous criminal, hadn't it?

He'd decided to come home during some down time, but it wasn't home anymore. He wasn't the person who'd called this place home.

"Baird? Baird Jackson?"

He'd hoped no one would recognize him. He should have covered up his hair. It was a dead giveaway.

He turned to see the old man who'd called him. "Who wants to know?"

"Ha! I knew it was you! Not to many redheads in this neighborhood."

He smiled a little in spite of himself. "You used to run the barbershop, right?"

"I still run the barbershop. Not too old for that, yet. I remember you used to get into all kinds of trouble. Looks like the army made a man out of you, though. You back from Iraq?"

"Something like that."

"Heh. Looks like Baird Jackson became a man of mystery. But nobody called you that since you were a kid, right? What's that nickname? Redjack?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Still go by it, in fact..."

Redjack's cellphone went off and he flipped it open to check the message. "Shit, I hate New York. Rather be back in Costa Rica," he muttered under his breath.

"What's that? You getting deployed?"

"Something like that. But I could use a haircut before I go. Know a place I can get that done?"

"Yeah. I know a place." They headed toward the barbershop. "I always knew you'd turn out OK, even though you got into a lot of trouble when you were a kid."

"Things change. I don't get caught anymore."

The old barber laughed as they went inside.

Chris just wanted to be lazy. He figured put in a couple months of not so legal work and be done with it. Rent was due and he was starting to panic. He needed money now. Every time the phone rang or he heard a knock on the door he would break out in a cold sweat.

He had known Vivian was out again and she was probably looking to stir up more trouble. They had worked in the past and for the most part it had worked out but he knew something would happen to him eventually.

Of course, as he was thinking this he noticed something slide under his door. The envelope had a cell phone, a plane ticket and a note from Vivian saying she'll call him when his plane lands. He hated being left in the dark about everything but he knew he'd play along. He hated himself for being such a pushover.

He wanted to ignore it but he knew Vivian will get her way eventually. The stupid bitch always did.

He thought to himself this time would be quick and then he could go back to ignoring the outside world and get some more peace and quiet.

"Christ, my head hurts. . ." Seth pulled himself up off of the kitchen floor and scanned the collection of alcohol bottles he'd been working on emptying to keep his mind off of who was in the house with him. Guess what? That didn't work either. . .

"Fuck, Seth!" She shrieked as she walked into the kitchen in a silk bathrobe with oriental designs on it. Although it was pulled tight, it seemed to be all she was wearing. "Did you pass out down here? Aren't you good for anything?" She walked over to the fridge, looking for something non alcoholic to drink.

"Yeah, I'm good for robbing banks, I'm good for shooting people that get in my fucking way, and I'm good at stealing cars and making my "great escape" in them." He pulled himself into a chair with great effort and after many attempts. There's also one or two other things I'm pretty good at, if you even remember after all that prison time. Drunk as he was, he wasn't drunk enough to say that one out loud. Yet.

Vivian poured herself a glass of what was left of the orange juice and set a glass of water in front of Seth. "Sober up. We have to be in New York tonight."

"Fuck, Viv, I hate New York. You know that." He sniffed at the water, only then realizing it wasn't Vodka. Barf.

"Well, you're just gonna have to get over that, aren't you? This isn't about our likes and dislikes anymore. Now, this isn't a rental house, is it?"

Seth put the glass down. "So you know."

"It wasn't hard to figure out, Seth, you're clothes are in the dresser and closet. What few pictures of you have are scattered all over. Plus, they have this invention called television now. We even get to watch it in prison. I know Richie's dead."

Seth drank the water and tried to get rid of his cottonmouth. "I bought the place a couple years back under a false business we set up for our holdings. Thought it'd be good to have a hidey hole for when things go bad again. Neighborhood's quiet. People don't ask questions or bother you. Plus, it's close to the highway. Can bolt out of state pretty quick if I have to."

"And you hooked up with a stripper."

You were the one who filed for divorce, he thought. "Feature dancer."

"How's that?"

"Feature dancer. They take dance classes. Create elaborate shows. Travel around the country. . ."

"But they take off their clothes for money?"

". . .yeah. . ."

"Stripper." Vivian took her victories where she could when she was feeling vindictive. "Plus, she left a bunch of her costumes here. Where is she, if I might ask?" She was sitting at the table now, drinking her oj with both hands to hide her smirk.

"Went back home to St. Louis. Got a job tending bar somewhere. That's all I know. Why do you care?" He finished the water and went back to the fridge to refill it.

"Just asking." She said, as she heard a text come in on her phone in the other room. Getting up, she continued, "Clean yourself up, Seth, we really have to get ready for our flight." She walked into the bedroom thinking: If he thinks I'm wearing that french maid costume, he's nuts.

Seth's only thoughts were Damn, she'd look good in that maid costume, quickly followed by Damn, I hate New York.

Vivian grabbed a cigarette and looked around for a matchbox or a lighter. Seth still had the lighter she bought him when they took a trip to Rome. A topless mermaid where the light came out of...well, it was a topless mermaid. Tossing the lighter back on the table, she grabbed her bags and dragged them to the front door.

Seth had somehow managed to get up from the floor, but there was little progress after that. He stuck his head in the sink and let the water run through his hair. She grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up. "Come on."

"I haven't packed yet. Did you take one of my cigarettes?"

She was still grabbing his wrist, trying to pull him to the front door. "I grabbed a few things for you. Do you ever fold your fucking shirts? You never could dress yourself, could you?"

She grabbed the bags and dumped them back into Seth's hands. He wobbled a bit, and grinned. Vivian wrinkled her nose and frowned. "Your breath smells like booze. There's no way in hell you're driving."

Seth just laughed. "Sugar, you're disobeying probabtion, and I've got a record. A DUI is the least of our problems." He leaned back to his full height. "Besides, there's one thing you forgot. You can't drive a stick."

He continued grinning, while Vivian just curled her lip. "Just don't fucking kill us on the way there."

Two minutes later, things had not improved. Seth like to hear his music, and Vivian had to shout to be heard. "Can we please turn the radio off?"

"It's Johnny Cash, sugar. 'And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when...'"

Vivian began fumbling with the radio. She use enough force to twist the dial off. "I haven't been on a vacation in the past two years, you know. Want to know the two songs I heard the most while in jail? 'Folsum Prison' and 'Jail House Rock'. So if you play any Cash, Elvis, or even the fucking Blues Brothers, I'm going to find that sawed-off shotgun and blow holes in you little Chevy P.O.S."

Seth didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, about you and shooting cars..."

"Fuck. You."

"Yes ma'am."

The drive to airport seemed very long indeed.

Seth slept through the whole flight. Viv wouldn't have minded except she'd forgotten he snored. She contemplated ordering a bag of peanuts and stuffing them up his nostrils.

No, then he'd just wake up and torture me on purpose. She wanted to look out the window, but couldn't stand the idea of stuck up against the wall after so long incarcerated.

"It's gonna be a long flight," she muttered to herself.

*************************************

Noo Yawk, Noo Yawk,
Times Square, The Hilton



"The Hilton?! They don't even let you smoke!" Seth fumed.

"Just shut up and pay the cabby and be happy I didn't leave you on the plane." Vivian turned back to the cabdriver and smiled apologetically, before putting on her best southern belle voice. "I'm so sorry, Mistah, mah husband and I are on ouwah vacation and he's been having problems with getting his gears to shift all the way if you know what I mean. . .do you know where we can get some viagarah?"

The cabbie burst out laughing as Seth handed him the money. "Har har har. Keep the change, dickwad."

"Up yours, schmuck!" then to Vivian, "You have a lovely vacation, madam. Call and ask for me if you need a lift while you're here." Then he pulled back into the ebb and flow of Times Square traffic, initiating a series of honks and yells from angry drivers.

*****************************

Later, in the room.

Seth stepped out of the shower and toweled off. He had to admit, he was feeling a lot better than this morning. Vivian had even brought his favorite suit. Maybe things would work out this time. . .

He shaved and finished dressing. Buttoning up his black vest over the grey shirt and tie. "I clean up real nice." He smiled. "Wish I had a gun. This city makes me fucking nervous."

He couldn't wait for the other arrivals. The sooner people got here, the sooner they could make their plans, and the sooner they could leave.

Michael Farretti sat in the cell of the police office in Berlin, Vermont. Dried blood stained his lower lip. The area around his left eye was swollen and a mixture of black, blue, and purple. His knuckles were slightly cut and bruised. "Well, now that you've had a little time to sulk," the officer on duty stepped into the holding area, "do you feel like telling me why you started that fight?"

"I didn't start it," Michael answered.

"That's not what everyone else told me."

"Of course a buncha country bumpkins aren't gonna tell you they started it when they get away scott free pinning it on a city boy like me."

"With an attitude like that, I don't have that much trouble believing them."

The door opened again. A man in his late thirties burst through. He was wearing a dark suit and glasses and carrying an attache case. "Just what the hell is going on here?"

"I might just ask you that question, sir. Who the hell are you?"

The man fished a black billfold out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. "Carl Landsford. Justice Department." With a flick of the wrist, the billfold closed back on itself; and he placed it back in his pocket. "I need you to release this man into my custody. Now."

"Pardon me if I act too much like a small town cop, but I don't see how a simple bar fight falls under the jurisdiction of the federal government."

"It's not. But the protection of a witness in the federal relocation program is."

"You mean that this guy..."

"Is not Michael Farretti? No, not really. Though he is supposed to be. But I guess we'll now have to give him yet another name. Now, if you will open this cell."

"I don't understand how you knew he was here. He hasn't been given his phone call."

Landsford pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and waved it. "He called me before you picked him up. And what is this about you neglecting to give him his legally mandated phone call?" The cop stuttered a bit without actually producing enough sound for anyone to hear. A loud beeping noise came in from the office up front. "And that would be a court order from a federal judge in New York City demanding that you release all the files you have of this incident to me. You can leave the keys to the cell with me while you get those." He smiled a bit as the cop bit his lower lip.

Several minutes later, Landsford was leading Farretti out to a black Crown Victoria parked in front of the station. They both climbed into the back seat, and the car took off. The man in the passenger seat before them turned around. He was an older man in his fifties. His face was covered with rage. "I send you up here to keep out of trouble." He reached into the back seat and slapped Michael across the face.

"Ow, Pop!"

"Don't you fuckin' 'Ow, Pop!' me, you little bastard!" the man yelled. "You've got cops all over New York state lookin' for you, and what do you do? You start a goddamn bar fight in fuckin' Vermont. Are you trying to get yourself picked up? Let me see that." 'Agent Landsford' handed over the file. "Fuckin' ignorant twat," the man mumbled to himself as he took and reviewed the file.

"It's got everything, including finger prints!" the man's voice kept getting louder. "Do you realize that if those mother fuckin' hick cops had run these, you'd be waiting for real feds to come up here and drag your sorry ass back to New York!" He then turned from his son and handed an envelope to the back seat. His voice was much calmer now. "Thank you, Mr. Mann. This could never truly compensate you for what you have done for me tonight. I am in your debt. The plane will fly you back to New York while I take my son here even further north. To fuckin' Maine."

"Aww, Pop. Not Maine."

"You shut the fuck up!" The man reached across the back seat again and began slapping and punching his son.


A little over two hours later, Aaron Mann was stepping out of the elevator with a grocery sack in his right arm. The glasses he'd worn before were now missing. A Bluetooth headset was clipped to his left ear. "Yeah, I left it in the usual place. And thanks for the rush job. I put a bit extra in there for you. Remember that next time I call, alright?" He clicked the button on the headset with his hand and reached into his pocket for his keys. As he searched for the right key, he came to a stop in front of his apartment door. He put the key into the lock but stopped before turning it. "You know that you're shit at hiding. Might as well come out."

Seth stepped out from around the corner. "Still can't sneak up on you."

"Not with those fuckin' elephant feet of yours you can't." He unlocked the door and stepped in. Seth followed, but had to put his hand out to stop the door from slamming in his face.

"Hey, that's not a way to treat a guest."

"I don't remember inviting you in," Aaron said as he placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

"How'd you know I wasn't someone trying to mug you in the hallway?" Seth asked as Aaron walked off down the hallway, not even looking in Seth's direction. Seth examined some of the photos hanging on the walls before sitting down in the largest chair in the living room.

Aaron walked into a room filled with filling cabinets. On one wall was a large mirror with a table in front of it. He opened up a closet full of shirts, jackets, hats, and shoes of all kinds. He pulled off his jacket and hung it up. "The security in this building is too good for an average street thug to come in. It takes an experienced thug."

"You got any beer?"

Aaron reentered the living room, changed into more comfortable and informal attire. "No. Now will you leave?"

"We need a face man, Aaron."

"I don't care."

"We need a good one."

"You and Vivian have made plenty of other friends since me. Get one of them."

"Can't. The mark knows most of our crew. We need a face he can't make. We need the best. Vivian seems to think that's you."

"I'm not interested in what she thinks. And get your feet off of my coffee table. It's an antique." With a bit of a sneer Seth lifted his feet off the table and stomped them onto the floor. "Besides, I don't run with crews anymore. Can't trust them. The two of you taught me that. Hell, you turned on each other. I heard about you abandoning her."

"I DIDN'T ABANDON HER!" Seth tried to regain his composure. "She got greedy. Didn't stick to the plan. Just listen to me. We need you on our crew."

"Seth," Aaron began to pour himself a glass of wine, "I'm a thief and a con. I refuse to get involved with the drug trade."

"That was bullshit," Seth began to get angry. "You should know her better than that."

"I thought I did. Look what happened to me. I teach her the trade, and she leaves me high and dry when she thinks she's learned it all. When she was done using me, she went right to you. Right to the muscle man."

"It wasn't what you think."

"I heard you two got married."

"Ok, maybe it was a little bit like you think. But it never crossed over professionally. You have to admit that."

Aaron took a sip. "I've been conning and stealing since I was nine. The closest I have ever gotten to going to prison was with you two. You tripped the alarm and bolted. Leaving me for the cops."

"It was a mistake, Aaron."

"No, taking you two in was the mistake. And I don't want anything to do with either of you any more."

"The guy set her up, sent her to prison. She got lucky that she didn't get twenty years for it."

"Yeah, it really hurts when someone screws you over like that, doesn't it?" He set the glass of wine down on an end table and sat down across from Seth. "Trying the sentimental route won't work on me, Seth. As far as I'm concerned, she deserves what she got. And you still have yours coming to you."

"There's nothing I can do to convince you?"

"No, nothing."

"Sure?"

"Positive."

"There's a lot of money in it."

The wine glass stopped right in front of his face. Aaron stared into the glass for a short moment. "How much?"

Seeing Aaron again had brought back a lot of memories for Seth. How he'd graduated from stealing cars for joyrides to working with actual crews, pulling real jobs.

By the time he was in his mid twenties, he'd earned a rep for being able to get out of just about any situation. His crewmates had taken to calling him "Houdini."

This was how he'd come to the attention of Aaron, and eventually, to Vivian. He'd always moved fast, and with her things had gone even faster. They made a good team, she handled the mental aspects, he did the physical. "Houdini" was finally trapped.

They ran off together, got married in Vegas, and kept pulling jobs, putting together their own crew. Aaron had been forgotten. Until now.

****************************

"How much?"

". . .Enough to save you from a life of running interference for aging goombas and their nitwit kids."

New York: people either loved it or hated it, she thought as she poured herself a stiff glass of whiskey. The ice shifted in the crystal glass as the smooth brown liquor ran over it. She capped the decantur, picked up her whiskey and walked over to the floor to ceiling windows to watch the sun set over Central Park. From her penthouse, her city looked peaceful. Only, she knew better. Right now, in her city there were interlopers determined to take what was hers.

Bringing the glass to her lips to sip, she tasted the cool whiskey and its warmth calmed her nerves. She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her diamond studded ear as she pondered what was to come in the days ahead.

They were all on their way for what she had in her possession. She knew from the moment she found out that Vivian had been released that the clock was ticking. The only question was: did she run? Or face all of them when they came for her and what she had?

Sure, there was money to be had, but more important than money, there was the information. Damaging information - and the key to power, if one knew what the information could lead to; which as far as Leigh could tell, none of them knew...yet. It was one of the reasons Leigh was determined to keep it out of Vivian's hands. Vivian had a way of figuring things out and sticking her nose in business that wasn't hers. And now Vivian was out of jail and hooked up with her ex again. Shit. That only complicated things. And worse, there was no doubt in Leigh's mind that Viv had contacted Sam along the way - despite all the evidence she'd found proving Sam's betrayal, old habits died hard - Leigh knew that better than anyone. If only Vivian had shot Sam instead of the goddamned car! "At least that would be one less problem I would have to deal with," Leigh thought as she gulped down her drink. Why did the girl have to be such a lousy shot? "I know I taught her how to shoot better than that," she thought as she poured herself another round.

The whiskey burned Leigh's throat as it went down, but with her second drink, some of the fury she felt when she first learned of Vivian's release dissappated. Leigh knew she was going to have to keep a cool head in the days to come if she was going to keep one step ahead of them all. And she knew she couldn't do it alone.

Quickly she ran through her mental rolodex of who she might be able to contact for help, but between Sam, Vivian, and Seth she had burned many a bridge. Then there was Aaron. Once they had trusted each other, but that was two years ago before everything went to shit. Before Seth and Vivian had fucked him over, before he thought she had been part of setting him up and leaving him for the cops, before..everything. Leigh sighed audibly, remembering for a moment. The past between them was scarred, but there was no one else anymore. No one from the old days who knew her back when - and more importantly, no one as slick, smart and as good with a gun as he was. She had as much contempt for him as he did her now, but Vivian and Seth were already in her city and that only meant that Sam was on his way. Leigh knew she was running out of time to set up a preemptive strike. She had worked too fucking hard for what she had to lose it all now. Whether Redjack was with them, she hadn't found out yet, but Leigh didn't want to take any chances. Despite her loathing for the man, she would have to call Aaron. She could only hope that Viv and Seth hadn't gotten to him first.

Quickly she crossed the living room and entered her private office. Scanning the books in the mahogany bookshelves she found the one she was looking for and flipped it open. There, on a postcard that he had given her two years earlier, before everything got fucked, was the one number that she knew Aaron would never change. Leigh stared at it for a long time.

Reluctantly, she reached for her cell and slowly began to dial.

A valet hurried over to the door of his van as Redjack pulled up to the hotel. "I'm just unloading for now. I'll park it myself when I'm done checking in." The valet barely paused before hurrying off to another vehicle pulling up.

"You rented that?"

He was already smiling as he turned around. "No, Vivian. I drove it here."

"You drove?"

"From Chicago."

"Why?"

"Oh, you know me. I could never get the hang of packing light." He pulled a hanging bag and a rolling suitcase out of the passenger door and they headed inside.

"I remember, now that you mention it."

"So, messing with Seth?"

"What?"

"Holding this get together here."

"If I am, the bastard deserves it."

"You realize I hate it here too."

"And yet it's still worth it."

"I hope so." He walked up to the check in desk. "Reservation for Jack Bard." Redjack produced an ID confirming that he was Jack Bard of Elgin, Illinois as well as a credit card under the same name. He completed the check in and headed away from the desk. "So, where is he?"

"Negotiating with someone who may be joining us."

"Huh, that never was his strong suit."

"But it keeps him out of trouble."

"Hopefully."

"Well, get yourself settled in."

"Yeah, I've got a place set up to stash the van while we're here. If you see Seth, have him stop by. I have something for him that may help him cope with being in this city a little better."

"We'll see what kind of mood I'm in when I see him."

New York-
The cab driver wasn't as bad as most. Sam just looked out the window to the passing buildings. It certainly was no Hawaii, but Sam still loved it here. Hell after staying for so long on the little island Sam was just happy to see smog.

There was something very comfortable for him about the city. Something about the size of it. That it was easy to disapear into and never be seen again. "Heh, dissapear." Sam chuckled to himself in the back of the cab. Seems that's what he was born to do.

He was trained for years to blend in and vanish into the surroundings. Thats what the government taught him never realizing that he wasn't planing on using it for them. They had taught him too well and once they realized he wasn't going to turn up unless he felt like it, they closed his file. "Thanks Uncle Sam, time to start a real life." he had thought all those years ago.

"Here we are sir." The cabby said. Sam opened the door and stoped to listen to the downtown traffic.

"Hmmm."

"Everything alright sir?"

"Just getting reajusted. You don't really get this in the islands." The cabby looked confused but his face lit up when he saw the tip Sam gave him. "Don't waste it all in one place."

Sam looked up at the hotel. He wondered who was already here. He also wondered who knew he was comming.

"I hope Seth is here. Cause I could really use a beer." He grabbed his bags and walked inside.

"Here you go Mr. Anderson." the nice lady behind the counter handed Sam his key and parking pass.

"Good thing I didn't bring a car." he laughed to himself. "Viv might get ideas."
Sam paused on his way to the elevator. He thought for a moment and then headed to one of the chairs in the lobby. "Hmmmm...lets just see who else shows up."

He knew from where he was sitting he had the perfect angle. He could see the front door without being seen by anyone. With all the people walking in and out no one would even notice he was there. Hell all he needed now was a newspaper and he was practically invisible. Sam grabbed whatever section was on the table in front of him. And like he had done so many times before, he waited....

"Why can't the past stay dead?" Aaron thought after Seth left. He scowled at the thought as the phone rang and walked over to pick up his cell.

"Yeah?" He answered, his annoyance at Seth still lingering in his voice.

"Hello Aaron."

Aaron drew a sharp intake of breath. Two years and he hadn't forgotten her voice - a voice he once trusted that had almost ended up costing him his life. His anger came swiftly.

"What do you want, Leigh?" He asked, trying to keep his fury in check.

"I need your help.". Soft. Sweet. As if the past had never happened.

"Lady, you have a set on you."

"I seem to remember you liking my set."

Aaron paused before his temper got the best of him. "That's not what I meant. And those days are dead to me. So are you."

"Aaron, wait! Please...". The honey was gone from her voice now.

"You have 30 seconds to state your business and then I hang up."

"The crew is back in the city.". Leigh's voice was hard now. "They're coming for the money and no doubt, their revenge."

"Like I just told Seth, you deserve everything that's coming to you and then some. It's been a long time coming."

"So, you've seen Seth.". It was not a question. She was not surprised. But then she had always been the one always plotting, always anticipating. He had admired that about her once. He knew better now.

"He was just here talking about 'the mark'. Needing my help too.". Aaron couldn't keep the hint of sarcasm from his voice.

"Aaron, hate me all you want..."

"I do."

Leigh continued without missing a beat "...but this is more than just about the money. You know that. If this information gets out it could destroy lives. People could end up dead."

"The way I was supposed to?"

"I didn't betray you."

"That seems to be the song everyone's singing today."

"You know it's true." Leigh sounded so sincere that for a moment he paused. Then he remember how it was. How it ended.

"I don't know anything except that I can't trust any of you."

Leigh paused, tempted to tell him the truth, but then thought better of it. The truth had been buried for the last two years. There was no need to exhume it now.

"What are you going to do? Who do you hate less?"


She was fishing, looking to see where he was going to lean. He didn't want her to know - he wasn't even sure himself - but he wanted to leave her twisting as she had once left him.

"I don't know. Lose this number, you won't be needing it again. If I want to, I know where to find you.". Aaron hung up. He didn't want to give her a chance to sweet talk him. He looked up at the ceiling, as if the answers were written there. Whatever was going to go down, it was going to be brutal and ugly.

He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lit it as he began to pace. He was going to have to figure out his next move. And soon.

Chris had finally arrived after two lay overs and a two hour delay. Its nice to know that vivian didn't spare any expense for the trip.

Coming into New York had frightened him. There was too much of everything. The buildings were larger than everything he was used to. There were people everywhere. All those eyes looking everywhere. He hated being out in public but this was almost too much to handle. He tried to tell himself that it was easier to blend in with the crowd but being six foot six and bald made him stick out anywhere he went. His pale white complexion didn't help either, he should have at least gone outside every once in a while.

Having everyone meet at the Hilton made it worse. Chris thought this is the worst possible place to meet, its in the middle of fucking times square for fucks sake. This is why he liked to work alone. He would have chosen a small crappy out of the way hotel, not somewhere in the middle of the city.

He went to his room hoping to find more about the job but there was nothing there.

He headed to the bar for a drink when he saw some familiar faces. At this point he didn't care who was looking, he might as well jump in head first.

The most interesting meetings can happen in hotel lobbies.

"Chris is late." Vivian checked her watch again.

"I don't think Aaron went for it." Seth walked up to her, having just made it back.

"We should've expected that." She nodded, brushing a strand of her hair back out of her face. "Jack's here. He's got something for you."

"Where is he?" Seth looked around.

"Went up to his room. We should go up. . ." The very loud rustling of a newspaper stopped their conversation.

"Excuse me," The man seated in the chair a few feet away slowly lowered the paper from his face. "But do either of you know how hard it is to get bulletholes out of a Jag?"

"Sam!" Vivian was surprised. But not as much as Seth was.

"Motherfucker. Almost as hard as it is to look at your wife's broken jaw and not know where the asshole is who did it. . ." Seth started unbuttoning his jacket and walking across the lobby. Vivian tried to jump in front of him. "Not now, dammit!"

"Can we not do this here, Seth? I was invited, too. . ." Sam didn't want to fight right now. Not in a public lobby. Not with a job and unfinished business still ahead of them.

"Is this a private party?" Jack joined the group, helping Viv to restrain Seth.

This was the scene when Chris finally arrived at the hotel. "See," he said to no one in particular. "This is why a small, out of the way place would be better."

"Redjack, could you show Seth what you were talking about? Maybe that'll calm him down."

"Sure."

Redjack lead Seth outside.

Seth lit a cigarette when he got outside. "I hate this fucking city"

"I know what you mean."

"I was gonna go across the river to a storage place. You interested in taking a ride?"

"Sure."

They got in and Redjack made his way toward the Lincoln Tunnel.

"So, I see you got a new war wagon."

"I wish you wouldn't call it that. It makes me sound like some kind of gun nut."

"Like a look around the back wouldn't give the same impression."

"I'm a professional and they are my tools."

"They have names, don't they?"

"Not all of them."

"Heh. So, we're going to Hoboken? Place is full of fags."

"If nothing else it's not New York. You know what I say."

"Yeah. 'The best thing about New Jersey is it isn't New York.' Right?"

"And the best thing about New York is it isn't New Jersey. So, in honor of our mutual dislike of New York, I'm going to make a generous offer."

"I was hoping you'd say that. You got a Walther P-38?"

"You always had a weakness for the classics. Yeah, there's one back there somewhere."

"How about an Uzi?"

"I'll break out the big stuff when we're on the job. I'm just offering you something to carry with you for now."

"Oh, all right." They emerged from the tunnel into exotic New Jersey.

"Y'know, this isn't really that much of an improvement."

"Well, my friend, when we get there this will all be worthwile." They arrived at the storage garage and Redjack opened the back of the van. "The P-38 should be right around here."

He pulled it out along with a holster and handed it to Seth. "Looks like you have enough to arm everyone."

"I'll tell you one thing. I'm not arming Chris." He pulled out a Glock 23 and put it into a holster under his jacket. "Guy's so twitchy I'd be better off arming the opposition."

"He has his uses."

"Sure he does, I just don't want him behind me with a loaded weapon." Redjack had pulled out a bag and was placing ammo inside as well as a Desert Eagle XIX.

"You planning on shooting an elephant?"

"Best to be prepared, in case one shows up." Redjack used his cellphone to call for a cab and he carefully locked up the van and the storage locker.

They went out to the sidewalk to wait for the cab and a short, pale guy went skipping by singing "I'm gonna have some gay sex! I'm gonna have some gay sex!"

"I hate this fucking place too."

"I know what you mean."

With Seth and Redjack off on a run, Vivian took a good look at Sam and Chris. "Well, shall we have a drink?"

They sat down at a booth in the hotel bar. A young waiter approached. "One strawberry dacquari with a lemon. Oh, and can you put sugar on the rim?" She looked at the other two. "Let's see if I can still remember." She pointed to Sam. "He'll have a Bushmills." She took a moment to think, and then she pointed to Chris. "He'll have a rum and Sprite, but instead of fifty-fifty, make it two-thirds rum."

Sam grinned. "Well, some things never change." He lifted his thumb towards Vivian's mouth and traced the scar. "Did I do that?"

Vivian pushed his hand away. "No, that was afterwards, I'm afraid."

Chris moved a few inches to he could see the hotel door better. Years of experience had taught him to keep an eye on incoming guests. "What, hanging out with the wrong crowd, Viv?"

"We are the wrong crowd," said Vivian. She tapped the scar. "But this was from a worse crowd." The waiter handed them their drinks. "But let's not discuss this particular crowd until we're back in the suite. For security."

"The suite?" asked Sam.

Vivian was sipping her drink, so all she could do at first was nod. "Mh-hmmm. The only room they have large enough was the bridal suite, so I went ahead and booked it."

Sam was trying not to laugh. Chris was a little better at hiding his amusement. "Bet Seth was glad to hear that."

Vivian was not amused. "Seth has a whole half of a suite to himself," she said in a flat voice.

"Look, I've seen my share of unhappy relationships." Actually, thought Sam, I've caused one or two of them. "But are things really so bad between you two?"

Chris nodded. "I thought something was up..."

"Look, I don't remember much about the beating. I just remember waking up in the hospital with my wrist handcuffed to the bed. I went to trial...alone. I went to jail...alone." She licked a bit of the sugar off the glass. "Some people just don't take that 'for better or worse' shit seriously."

Chris took the lemon out of his drink. "So...how come you're not hiring us to kill Seth? I'm sure the idea has cross your mind."

Now Vivian grinned. She held up four manicured fingers. "Reason One: As mad as I am at Seth, he's not the one that put me in the hospital. Reason Two: I need him to get back at our little mutual enemy. Reason Three: If I wanted to kill Seth, all I'd have to do is throw a keg in the pool and tell him it's full of beer."

"And Reason Four?" asked Chris.

Vivian just shrugged. "He may be an asshole, but I was Mrs. Asshole for a while. Kind of hard to kill a guy that stole a Tiffany ring just for you."

Leigh leaned back and exhaled her relief. The conversation with Aaron hadn't gone as badly as she anticipated. Oh, it was bad to be sure, but at least he hadn't hung up on her immediately, which is something that she had been steeling herself for.

It occurred to her that if Seth had already been to see Aaron she may have gotten to him too late. Not that Aaron had any reason to trust her, but he had less reason to trust that bastard and his harpy less.

What if he decided not to work with her? What if she was left to face her former crew by herself? It was not a comforting thought, but it was a probability that she had to face. A shiver ran through her, and then she suddenly was filled with self contempt. Why the hell was she the one afraid? Why weren't they the ones who were worried? "Because they think this is only about the money. They don't understand what's really at stake," she immediately answered herself.

Well, enough. The two years she had spent recreating herself had made her soft. That had to end. Now. It had only been a few hours, but she already knew that she couldn't just stay here like a caged animal waiting for Aaron to decide. If they wanted to bring the war to her, she would go out and face them. She knew they were at the Hilton - at least Vivian and Seth were - and more than likely Sam too. If her brother was here with his usual arsenal, then better that she find out now, rather than waiting in a penthouse like a coward. Once she decided to stop waiting, she felt better. And then she began to move.

She quickly got out of her chair and practically sprinted across the large apartment to the master bedroom. She pulled the original Picasso off the wall (she never liked it, the man couldn't draw a proper face - two eyes on one side of a head? She preferred the work of the starving street artists that Aaron had admired, but there was no time to think about that now, she told herself) and after entering the electronic combination, she opened the safe that lay behind it. She didn't hesitate as she reached in and withdrew her Glock 17L and tucked it between her Gucci belt and her back. She paid good money to make sure that it was untraceble with the unspoken hope that she would never have to use it.

She still hoped for that even now. But a girl couldn't be stupid. She would go, assess the situation, confront them if she had to and deal with the ramifications. If things got bad...she didn't want to think about it, but she was a much better shot than Vivian ever was and if she went down, she promised herself to place a bullet in Sam's heart before she went. One for Seth too, if she was lucky enough to have the extra seconds.

She buzzed her driver, Michael, ordered her car, threw on her blazer, pat her gun for reassurance and was on her way to face her past.

The wiskey was't the best, but you wouldn't expect that from a Hilton. Vivian tried to keep the conversation light. "Enough about me. What have you guys been up too?"

Chris went on to talk about the last couple of "jobs" he had done. Sam feigned interest but his mind was elsewhere. Something wasn't sitting right. He wouldn't have come to New York without factoring in all of the variables. But something was missing. Not something. Someone. Her. He tried to hide the grimace on his face. Vivian, however, was her usual perceptive self .

"Sam. What is it?" she said with a worried look.

"Not to freak anyone out here," he began, "but does anyone know exactly where Leigh is?"

Sam straightened himself in his seat and loosened his jacket. Slowly, he eased his hand over to the grip of his pistol. The man who had just walked in the door was making his way towards them. The look on his face didn't seem too pleasant. Vivian noticed how Sam had tensed up and peaked out of the corner of her eye. "Aaron?" her voice almost broke in surprise. "I didn't expect you to come. Seth said..."

Aaron put his hand up, and Vivian went quiet. "This is business for me. Business. I don't care about your own need for revenge. If the pay is right and the business is good, I'm here. If things go sour, I pack up and head for greener pastures. Understood?"

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't committed. I need you to prove to me that you've got a professional crew."

"Hey!" Sam said finally taking his hand away from his gun. "We're pure, USDA, Grade A bandits. All the way."

"Really?"

"Without question."

Stuffing his hands into his pants pockets, Aaron shook his head with a half-assed smile on his face. "Then why is it that you haven't even been in town for a full twenty-four hours, and you've already been made?"

Vivian stopped sipping on her daiquiri. Chris almost dropped his drink. Rum and Sprite splashed around the side of the glass and down over his hand. He looked over at Vivian and Sam. "I'm sorry," Aaron said in a sarcastic tone. "Did I just ruin this happy little reunion?"

"I don't know who this asshole is, Vivian; but he's obviously trying to screw with our heads." Sam hadn't changed his demeanor at all. "There's no way that we've been made yet. No way."

"Right after Seth left, I got another call. It's known that you're out of prison and that you're here in New York."

"Leigh," Sam muttered.

"She know we're here, huh?" Vivian was running her finger across the rim of her glass.

"Yes," Aaron said, still holding a bit of a smile. "I guess you didn't learn everything I had to teach you, huh?"

"How did she sound?"

"Paranoid."

"Bad fuckin' news," Sam said as he pushed away his beer. "Had I punched her in the jaw, it wouldn't have been my Jag leaking fluid afterwards."

"So, tell me, Viv. What was it that you did to tip her off? Don't tell me that you reserved the rooms in your name! I mean, that would be such an amateur mistake."

"Stop it, Aaron."

"But you have spent two years in prison. You are out of practice. A simple oversight."

"Stop it, Aaron!" Vivian was getting very upset now. "I didn't know she was here."

"It's not just about her, Viv. It's not just about you. It's about your crew and keeping them safe. Where's Seth?"

"He's out."

"Of course he is." Aaron pulled back his sleeve to check his watch. "Two hours. Central Park Zoo. I'll be near the gorilla cages. I want Seth to feel at home. Meet me and have your shit together this time." He spun around and exited the bar. He crossed the lobby and let the crowd swallow him up. Instead of walking out the front of the hotel, he went the other direction, towards the elevators. As he passed a bellhop, he passed a hundred dollar bill to the man's hand, taking a card discreetly from the other. As the elevator doors close, he was just able to catch a glimpse of Leigh walking in off the street.

The card opened the door to the bridal suite. He'd paid for a key for the service elevator so that he could sneak out without chancing running into Vivian, Seth, or their crew. Leigh's arrival bought him another five minutes, at least. It wasn't much, but it'd also give him less opportunity to slip up.

"Aaron has a big mouth," Leigh thought as she stopped short of running into the lobby and into her old crew. She had managed to see them there in the lobby - "like sitting targets," she thought - before they saw her. They were frantically looking around, looking a bit perturbed, and Leigh immediately stood post behind a pillar to avoid being seen. One look at them and she immediately knew that they were looking for her. "They know that I know they're here. And the only one I told was Aaron. Serves me right for reaching out to him," she thought angrily. "But that means that son of a bitch is nearby too."

Lurking behind the pillar she was hidden, yet was able to observe her former crew. Vivian looked the same - a bit thinner and paler - but there was no mistaking her. Sam was looking around - no doubt for her - and Chris looked perplexed. Seth and her brother were nowhere to be found.

This was it. She should walk up to them while they looked around a bit frantic. Fuck it - what was the worst that could happen? "Shoot out at the Hilton" - story at 11. She smirked at her own macabre sense of humor. "Ok," she thought, "just do this."

She made a motion to start heading in their direction when she felt a hand go through her hair and tug her head backwards from behind. Her body would have fallen backwards and onto the floor, except she was pulled roughly against someone. Her skin bristled and hatred filled her as Seth's sarcastic whisper filled her ear.

"Why, sugar, what took you so long? Come to join the party?"

Leigh's frown slowly twisted into a grin and she began moving closer to Seth. "Oooohh, Seth, is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" She began to grind against him a little bit.

"It's a gun. Cut the crap, Leigh." He was lying. She knew it and he knew she knew it. But that was all part of playing the game. She smelled fantastic and felt even better. Goddamn, it had been a long time. Why did all this shit have to happen now? Seth refocused and got back on the clock. He wasn't as stupid as everybody thought he was. When it was time for business, he did business. After, well. . .that's when things sometimes got hairy and had a tendency to bite you in the ass.

Leigh was a biter. Interpret that how you will. That's ok. Seth thought to himself. Let them all underestimate me. We'll see who plays this one out to the end.

Seth reached up under her jacket and began to search down into her pants. "Oh, baby, right down to business, aren't you? It's been a while since we played this game, lover." She purred.

He pulled her gun out of her pants and quickly stuck it into the now empty shoulder holster he'd gotten from Redjack. "Oh, we've never played this game before, Leigh. At least, not with each other. Now, you and I are gonna have a little sitdown and we're gonna talk about some really messed up things that I just saw and heard about over the bridge."

Sam and Chris both turned to Vivian. Sam looked thoughtful, but Chris looked downright mad. "You didn't do a very good job of covering you're own tracks, did you?"

Her hands went up admission. "Okay, okay, I screwed up. No one's dead yet. Or in jail." She brushed her hair back, like she always did when she was nervous. "So I'm still ahead of the game."

Sam had been tapping the table as he thought. He stopped and looked at Vivian. "Wait a minute, how does everyone know?"

*** *** ***

The lights were dim in the office. He liked it that way. A glass of port was on his desk, but he did not touch it. His full attention was devoted to a plasma screen TV on the other side of the room.

The screen showed a reported outside a jail. "And we just heard from a Dallas PD spokesperson -- "

The man was interrupted by someone opening the door. A tall, gangly man with dark hair and a metrosexual goatee entered the room. "Mr. Ramos, do you want to -- "

"Quiet, Harris. Turn up the volume."

The Dallas PD spokeswoman was up on the podium, blinking at all the cameras. "Vivian Jaspers, daughter of Dallas banking tycoon Grant Jaspers, has been missing since Thursday. As many of you are aware of, Jaspers was found almost three years ago outside of Dallas, beaten and carrying narcotics. She was arrested afterwards for drug trafficing -- "

Ramos sighed. "At least you idiots managed to put her in jail, even if you failed to kill her."

Harris just gulped. "She wasn't breathing when we -- "

"Just shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses again. It was boring enough the first time."

The spokeswoman continued. "Her parole officer showed up at her brother's house the next day, only to find Jaspers missing. The judge had decided not to put a tracking device on her ankle, as her conduct in prison was considered 'above average'. Jaspers earned her bachelors -- "

The port glass was thrown into the fireplace, where the dying embers lit up once again. Ramos folded his fingers together and rested them under his chin. "That stupid numbers girl is out and running about."

Harris turned the TV off. His boss had seen enough. "Numbers was all she was good at, Mr. Ramos. She's just a pencil pusher. So she's out of jail. She probably had a Swiss bank account from her days with us. Knowing her, she's off hiding in Paris, hoping we don't find her." Ramos's face did not change in expression. "Uh...do you want us to try and kill her again? Because I think drowning would work better."

"Not now, but keep that option open." Ramos adjusted in his seat, his fingers still under his chin. "Vivian might just be a numbers sort of girl, but she was always very proud. Very vain. And she is the sort of girl that likes to be vindicated."

"So?" asked Harris. "Even if she does decided to get back at you, what is she going to do? Do you want me to make sure the Bentley and the Ferrari are safe in the garage?"

Despite the possible threat, Ramos allowed himself a chuckle. "She's not capable of getting even. But she knows a few people that can."

*** *** ***

"So, you mailed yourself supplies for when you got out of jail," said Sam. "That makes sense. Quite smart, Viv."

Vivian smiled and leaned back. "Trust me. I've spent two whole years thinking of this entire plan. I've covered all of my bases, down to the last detail."

"Oh really?" asked Chris. "Then...what was your plan about the parole officer? You do have a parole officer, right?"

The color in Vivian's face drained. "Wait. A. Minute. You had two years in a jail cell to come up with all this. And you forgot to cover your own tracks so as not to alert the entire criminal underground." Sam put his head in his hands. "My God. We are all fucked."

"Wait, it's not that bad!"

"Not that bad!" shouted Sam. Looks from Vivian and Chris reminded him to lower his voice. "Vivian, you might be a genius, but you're an idiot too. Seth taught you carjacking. Leigh taught you how to shoot. I taught you identity theft. And here you, same old Viv. You still can't cover your tracks, you still can't shoot worth shit and -- "

"You still can't drive stick."

Vivian, Sam, and Chris looked up. Seth was leaning next to the table. Leigh was with him, though she didn't seem too overjoyed at the idea. "So, sugar, where and when are we all meeting up?"

It was, of course, the bigger of the rooms in the suite. Vivian was always going to set herself up in the best digs. Aaron located her suitcase, stuffed away under the bed. He laid there on his stomach for a few seconds, taking a mental picture. He reached in and grabbed the case. Laying it on the bed, he placed his ear next to the combination lock and listened for the tumblers fall into place. With it opened he felt the along the sides and back until he found that one imperfection. He peeled away the false backing and reached under. He hand came out with a plastic bag full of photos an paper.

He moved over to the dresser and laid the contents out to get a better look. Aaron reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone and headset. Using the camera feature on the phone, he photographed everything in the bag. With the headset in his ear, a call was sent out to one of his contacts across the hanger. "T. It's Mann. I'm sending you some pictures and a name. Ramos. Get me what you can and send it to my apartment in an hour and fifteen. Can you do that? Good. Thanks." He tapped the headset off and collected the papers and photos back into the bag in the same order that he had taken them out. Then, he slipped it back into the suitcase and smoothed out the false backing. After slipping the suitcase back under the bed, he stood up and brushed off his pants. Again he dropped down to the floor and stared at the suitcase under the bed. He reached out his hand and nudged the case a little to the left. There, he thought to himself as he stood up and exited the room. There was no one in the hall to notice him use a key to open the service door and made his way to the maintenance elevator in back.

The uncomfortable silence hung over the group.

Vivian looked at Leigh. Leigh looked at Sam. Sam looked at Vivian, then to Leigh, then to Seth. Seth looked at Jack, then back at Leigh, then to Viv.. Jack looked at Leigh. Chris watched them all with some amusement, despite himself.

"So. . ."

"So. . ."

"There's an echo in here."

"Indeed."

Vivian kept her stare on Leigh. "So we were just talking about you and here you are."

Leigh very slowly and showily took a seat with the group. "Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil and the devil appears. Who wants another drink?"

Sam folded his hands together in front of his face. "What are you doing here, Leigh?"

She smiled enigmatically. "Missit me Dominus." was all she offered as the barmaid set a drink in front of her. Leigh pulled a cherry out of the drink and stuck it in her mouth slowly.

"What the hell does that mean?" Chris looked around at the group.

"It's latin." Sam offered, hands unmoved. "It means "The Lord has sent me." Our old friend here is trying to be cute."

"Only trying? You guys are turning into a bunch of old women." Leigh downed her drink in one go.

"If you really want to know why I'm here. . ." She slowly began, as if insure whether she should go on or not. A realization seemed to strike her. Maybe I can turn this to my advantage after all, and kill five birds with one stone. . . "Aaron's going to kill you all."

Everything seemed to stop.

Seth let out a long whistle. "Well, can't blame him for wanting to kill us, can we, 'sugar'?"

Vivian looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. "No, 'dear', I can't blame him for wanting to spend some bullets on us."

"This is stupid," said Sam. "For crying out loud, how long ago was all this? Viv, are you still mad at me for punching you in the face?"

"In retrospect, there's really not that much to be mad at you for."

"Hey," interrupted Seth. "I'm still fucking mad at him for punching you in the face."

Leigh rolled her eyes. "I swear, you are the guys are the most retarded criminals ever."

Well, that cat was out of the bag. Vivian looked up at Leigh and grinned. Leigh hated that smile. It was the wide smile that showed off her white teeth. Vivian use to grin like that when she was talking to people she thought were beneth her. But now her upper lip curled a bit, showing off her scar. "That's right Leigh. Go ahead and poke fun at us. By the way, nice to see that you're living all nice and pretty in your little Yankee condo. I bet you have the whole place covered in Picasso's Blue Period."

"Something like that."

"Whatever." She looked at her watch. "Let's head to the park. I hear they have a new seal exhibit."

"Wait a moment," said Redjack. "Didn't you hear what Leigh just said?"

Vivian pulled out her compact to check her makeup. "Yes."

"So why are we still meeting with Aaron?"

Vivian didn't even look up from her mirror. "Because Leigh never tells the truth to me. Or to anyone." She smiled. "I never tell anyone the whole truth, and neither does she. Takes a liar to recognize a liar. Besides," Vivan got up and put the compact back in her purse. "We're going to need Aaron to make this work."

*** *** ***

They took the subway to Central Park. After that, it was an easy walk to the zoo and then to the gorillas. Vivian was in the front with Sam, while Seth, Chris, and Redjack supervised Leigh. "Sam, got a cigarette?"

"Sure," he pulled one out for her. "So why are you bringing her along?"

"We might have to negociate with Aaron, right? Let's bring a bargaining chip."

"Ouch," laughed Sam. "The old Vivian wouldn't have been that cold. Prison wasn't very good for you, was it?"

"Why do they call it white-collar crime?"

"What?"

"White-collar crime. That's all I did, really. And yet I was put in jail for a blue-collar crime." She looked thoughtful. "And yet, I'm a blueblood, so bluebloods commit white-collar crimes. Isn't it odd?"

They reached the gorilla cages. Chris leaned over to check the cage. "He did say gorillas, right?"

"Yes."

"No monkeys?"

"No."

"Lemurs?"

"Jeez, leave one detail out, and no one lets you forget it..."

Without any hint of arrival, Aaron's voice came from some hidden corner. "Well, looks like the rejected A-Team showed up."

Aaron had found a shady spot with a few benches. The area was covered in foliage and statues, so no one would notice them all talking. "Gather round, gather round."

They all found a place to settle. Seth and Redjack continued to watch Leigh, and Vivian sat closest to Aaron. Vivian had her speech all planned. "Well, there is honor amoung th -- "

"Shut up, Vivian." Vivian shut her mouth. "Now, it's my turn to talk.

"See, I've been trying to figure out what the hell happened. The second you got out of jail, you gathered everyone that you've dissed or ignored or dumped back together for a criminal pow-wow. So I did a little snooping."

Now, Aaron raised his voice, so that all six of them could hear him clearly. "Several years ago, after you and Seth left me for dead, you began working for Ramos, a crime lord of great notoriety. I'm sure we've all seen the nice big articles about him in the newspapers. Hard to miss, really. Sam was with you at the time."

"Everyone here knows that much," said Seth. "Keep going."

"Go peel a banana Seth. Anyways, Ramos was very good to Vivian and Seth. He sent Seth all around the word on assignments, and he had Vivian run the finances of his casinos. Both the legal and the illegal ones. And Ramos filled their little cups almost as fast as they emptied them.

"So, flash foward a few more years, and suddenly, Sam's not with you anymore. Turns out Ramos didn't like Sam's style, and wanted him to leave. For some odd reason, he picks Vivian to take care of Sam. We all know what happened. A very nice Jaguar XK was killed, and Vivian was never asked to do 'field work' again."

"What can I say? I like the office atmosphere." Aaron gave Vivian a cold stare. "Shutting up."

"A few months afterwards, Vivian gets the idea that the millions that she makes isn't enough, and begins skimming money off of Ramos. The plan was for her and Seth to make a fabulous escape. But, according to sources, Vivian decided to leave by herself, and was caught with over twelve million dollars. Ramos attempted to kill her, but failed. Drugs were planted, and the rest is history."

"Correction. It was eleven-point-eight million dollars."

Sam said nothing. His attention was focused on Aaron. Vivian claimed they needed him so badly, but there was something spooky about a guy that knew that much.

Chris, however, was not as suprised. Aaron had a reputation for his collection of contacts. Some people joked that almost every crime lord owed him some favor or another. Granted, Vivian had been an fool to think no one would notice her release -- but Chris had the sneaky suspicion Aaron would have found everything out anyways. He was just that good.

"So," said Redjack. "The goal is -- what, money?"

"Eight million dollars."

"Yeah, but once you split it -- "

"No, I mean eight million dollars each."

No one said anything at first. Even Seth hadn't expected that. Only Leigh seemed awake. She pulled out of Seth's and Redjack's grips, and took a few steps forward. "Yeah, and she'll get all your asses killed in the process. You do realize she cares more about making Ramos miserable than making you guys rich -- or keeping you alive?"

Even after Leigh had pleaded for some sanity in the group - they would get killed; Vivian was more, concerned with revenge than the money; etc. - they decided to go through with it.

No, she thought later on when they were already on their way, Aaron decided to go through with it, laid out the plan, and they had all followed. We may not trust each other, she thought wryly, but we trust that man's intelligence.

***

They were still in the zoo and Leigh had reluctantly accepted that this heist was going to happen. And though she was loathe to admit it, the though of getting back in the game secretly gave her a thrill.

"Fine, if we're headed to our doom, we're gonna need a way to get there," Leigh said. " I'm heading back to my place to pick up a few things and I'll meet you ..."

"Oh, there's no way in hell you're going by yourself." Aaron said. " We're going together."

Leigh looked at him sharply, her patience worn thin. "Let's get something straight - I don't need a shadow and if my ass is getting involved in this, you - and - mean all of you" she said looking at each of them, "are going to have to trust me - even a little."

Vivian snickered loudly.

Leigh turned to her, "You don't like it little girl, you can do this without me and my money. I seem to recall how well that worked out for you last time.". Leigh said her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Viv," Seth began seeing the rage in her eyes...

"Shut up." Viv snapped and then was quiet.

Leigh said, "I thought so." And turned her and headed west exiting the park on her way to 15 CPW.

****

In the end, they followed her anyway. She didn't protest. They entered the penthouse, all a little surprised at how well Leigh had done with her laundered money.

"Damn, girl, you've done nice for yourself," Sam said as he appraised the original Tarkays and Ertes on the foyer walls.

Like a heat seeking missile that had found it source, Seth immediately headed to the bar and opened the mini fridge underneath.

"No beer?". He asked, looking completely horrified at this discovery.

"But plenty of scotch and whiskey," Viv noted with a sneer.

"My kinda woman," said Chris as he made a b-line for the liquor.

"I'm sorry, Viv, I didn't know you were coming, otherwise I would've stocked up on the shirley temples" Leigh said condescendingly.

"Oh, your taste in liquor doesn't surprise me. Nor does you taste in apartments, art and ... men," Vivian said that last part with emphasis. "It must be nice being rich."

"Honey, I'm not rich" Leigh said and then paused "...I'm very rich. And as for this 'Yankee condo' it certainly beats living in a southern prison. The reason I'm here and you've spent two years rotting there fighting to keep from becoming someone's bitch is not just because Seth deserted you," Seth bristled at this, but Leigh continued, " but really because I think ahead and make sure I know that what's coming around the corner won't bite me in the ass. You didn't find out you were getting paroled until 24 hours ago. I knew you were getting paroled 2 months ago. And that's just one example. There are just soooo many others..."

With that statement hanging in the air, Leigh turned on her heel and walked into her office while Chris grabbed Viv to keep her from going after Leigh.

"Calm down, Viv we don't have to like her, but we need her..."

****

Leigh went through her office getting the keys, butterfly knife, which she strapped to her ankle, cash, and her passport.

"Going somewhere?"

Leigh looked up, a little surprised at first and then appraised Aaron coolly.

"I don't see how that is any of your concern."

"Oh, but it is. Things go bad, you leave me to face the cops while you end up on a beach where there are no extradition laws...you see how I find this to be my 'concern'..."

Leigh sighed and her response wasn't heated or angry, just resigned. "We've been through this Aaron. Too many times for me to count. I don't have the energy to fight with you again. I've told you the truth. Believe what you want. But I'm not giving up my key out of this if this plan of yours goes south. Now get out of my way. We have a job to do."

Aaron watched her approach and then walk past him back into the lion's den and didn't say a word.

***

"Shotgun!" Seth yelled as they slid into Redjack's war machine.

It had been decided that they would split up - Seth, Leigh and Redjack in the war machine; Chris, Viv and Sam in Leigh's Mercedes. Aaron said he had some "business" to take care of and would meet up with them later. No one argued with him.

Leigh had given up the keys to her car without protest, as she wanted to talk to her brother. Besides, if things went badly what happened to the car wouldn't matter anyway.

Redjack got behind the wheel as Seth winked at Leigh savoring his mini triumph of getting the shotgun seat. Did he justwink at me?, she thought. Smug bastard.

The doors slammed and Redjack put the key in the ignition. Seth was adjusting his long legs when without warning the Gucci belt looped around his neck and made taking his next breath a little harder.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me. I want it back." Leigh said matter of factly.

"You wouldn't dare." Seth said, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.

Leigh didn't need to be asked twice. With all her might she pulled on the ends of the belt she had discreetly slipped off as Seth frantically reached backwards trying to grab her; but she had leaned back far enough to stay out of his reach.

Redjack watched this impassively. They may not have grown up together, but in the last few years that they had known about each other, he and his sister had bonded. He trusted her, and knew she would do the same thing for him.

He waited.

"Red, baby, would you get my glock for me please?"

Redjack reached over, and despite Seth's struggle, managed to pull the glock out in one move. He reached back to hand it to his sister and she released her pull on the Gucci.

"Thanks, Red". Her brother just nodded.

Seth was coughing, gasping for air and rubbing his neck while Leigh checked the magazine. Then she smacked Seth upside the head. Hard.

"What the fuck was THAT for?" He gasped.

"That was for copping a feel while stealing this from me!"

Seth looked at Redjack incredulously, while he wheezed and took in deep breaths. "You weren't... going... to stop... her?"

"What can I say? She's got daddy's temper." Redjack said somewhat amused.

"Fuck this. I'm not staying in this car with you two crazy fuckers," Seth said as he got out of the car and headed to Viv's car.

"I'm glad he's gone. We need to talk," Leigh said as she took Seth's place and slid into the passenger seat.

"Indeed," Redjack said, looking over at his sister. Softly he asked, "Ramos taught you that move didn't he, Leigh?"

Leigh looked at her brother with sorrow and then turned her head and looked away.

"You can't understand what went on, Red," she said sadly. "You don't know what happened."

"Then tell me."

And she did.

"Aw shit."

Sam was in the driver's seat of the Mercedes, which was annoying enough. Seth was never a good passenger. But on top of that, Chris was riding shotgun. Which meant that he had to sit in the back with...

"Aw shit."

Chris and Sam had insisted that Vivian not be near any of the controls -- similar to the old sailors' superstitious of women on board a ship. Wrenches brought bad luck to boats, and Vivian brought bad luck to cars. The back had been roomy enough, but now Seth was getting inside...does he still think I look pretty, I wonder?

"Are you two going to behave back there?"

Vivian just crossed her hands. "You sure you know where you're going?"

Sam nodded. "I've got a friend near the coast that owes me a few things. He can get us a couple of small boats. Two, you think?"

Vivian shook her head. "I'd rather have three small boats than two bigger boats for this sort of thing."

The plan was not complicated. Ramos had a old cruise liner that he had bought at an auction and remodled into a casino. At least on the first few floors. The cargo hold was where he stored the illegal narcotics and firearms, to be delievered at whatever port he was approaching. He'd pick up and drop off passengers while at the same time trading the stolen goods. And the whole thing worked, between bribing the port authorities and the simple laziness of the average dockworker...well, Ramos got away with a good many things.

Vivia knew all this, because she had bought the boat. She knew what modifications Ramos had installed and how much money he usually kept in the vault. She knew what kind of vaults he had purchased. She had supervised the purchase of the trick tables all the way down to the 600-count linen sheets. She knew everything about the boat, because it was all in her little black book.

She flipped open to an entry from over four years ago and began to read. "Ramos installed cameras in the two entrances to the vault independent of the rest of the system. They're activated by motion. I talked to Redjack, he said he's gotten past stuff like that before."

Sam chuckled as he pulled onto the highway heading north to Maine. "Who knew being the pencil-pusher would help this much."

Chris was looking out at the traffic through the window. "Getting our boats to the cruise liner is going to be the biggest challenge. We're going to Maine, and Ramos usually has his ship parked between South America and Florida. We'll have to strip these boats down to swimming gas tanks."

Seth shrugged. "It can be done." He turned back to Vivian and gave her his crocked smile. "You spent a lot of time thinking this idea up."

Vivian put her little black book away. "It was either that or start knitting." She looked down at his hands. "So, how much did you get for it?"

"What?"

"The ring? You're not wearing it anymore."

"Oh yeah," Seth lifted his hand and began scratching the back of his neck. He had been hoping she wouldn't notice. "I manage to get a new engine for the Firebird with it."

"Oh."

"Are you mad?"

She seemed almost sleepy. "No."

Chris began digging in the glovebox for a magazine. "I am not getting in the fucking boat with those two."

The hotel rooms had to be abandoned. If Leigh found out about the gathering so quickly, there was no question that Ramos would discover it as well. The next step was to set up ghost transactions to lead anyone following them away. Aaron had contacted his computer guy to set that up. Anyone trying to tail them would be lead on a wild goose chase that would move down to Philly, on to Chicago, and eventually all the way to the West Coast before anyone could become the wiser.

Aaron went through his closet and pulled out the clothes he was going to need. He then went to his filing cabinets and began to thumb through all his passports and other identification. He pulled out the ones he thought best for the job and packed those away with the clothes. He then reached over and picked up the phone. "Deb," he said to his secretary when she picked up. "I'm going on another trip. I heard about some Louis XIV's that could turn out to be a good deal. There's no telling what else I might come up with, though. Could you have someone bring my car around in about half an hour?"

Years ago, Aaron Mann had started a business to cover his tracks and launder his money. He now imported, exported, bought, and sold antiques and art. It allowed him to move around, be missing for days at a time, and move large sums of money all over the world. It also put him in close proximity with some of the best marks.

About twenty minutes later a driver and the daytime doorman were loading two suitcases and a trunk into the back of his Audi. He gave them both generous tips and climbed behind the steering wheel.

Vivian knew what it would take to get the money off of that boat. It had to be out to see. There the ship would have no help from any nation's coast guard. But there was still the defenses Ramos had himself. Who knows better how to stop a crook than a crook. That's where Aaron's specialty came into play. There had to be someone on board to cause enough problems to distract from what was really going down. It was his place to get people's eyes off of the prize long enough for them to swoop in and take Ramos's money and pride.

"Vivian, Sam and Seth weren't the only ones who worked for Ramos...," Leigh began. "Ramos' reach is far and wide, and whether you know it or others know it, at some point you work for him. Even if you don't want to," she said bitterly.

"What happened, Leigh? Just...tell me," Redjack said, though he wasn't too sure now if he really wanted to know.

"Remember how Aaron mentioned that Ramos ordered Vivian to take out Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Ramos had a habit of 'testing' those in his employ. Loyalty is a precious commodity and a rare one to boot. One look at this motley crew is a testiment to that. Ramos was none to please at her killing a car instead of Sam. Sam had gotten away and Vivian knew her head was next on the block. I may not be her biggest fan, but she's a smart cookie and not only had she failed to get a single slug into Sam's body, but she realized there was only so long she could continue to skim off Ramos' millions before getting caught. The thing is, Ramos knew about her pilfering long before he decided to do something about it. He toys with you, letting you sweat, waiting for you to slip up and then... Ramos knew what was going on. You don't get to his level in life without making sure you know everything in your business. In everyone else's business too. When he was done toying with her, and playing his sick head games he ordered that she be taken out."

"You." Redjack said, with some suprise in his voice.

"Me," she whispered.

"You've never had a problem with taking orders before. What was different this time?"

"Vivian was pregnant."

Redjack raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"It was one thing to kill her, but her unborn child? I couldn't bring myself to do it. And in failing to follow orders, I lost my position in Ramos' company. After that, I knew he would be coming for me next."

"But wait. If she was pregnant, where's the baby?"

"That's the bitter pill - one of many here - she never was pregnant. It was a rumor that Ramos fed me to see if I would follow orders or not. It was my test - to see if I was 'loyal' enough. He knew how I felt about kids, especially since I can't have any of my own. He knew that was my Achilles' heel. It's part of what he does. He finds what is important to you and he uses it to fuck with you." Leigh had been staring out the side window while she recounted her story, but she looked at her brother then, hoping he would understand.

Redjack was quiet, letting this information sink in.

"You're still not telling me everything."

"I know, Redjack, but this is hard for me. It brings back things that I'd rather not remember. Until two days ago, I had a new life. I left this all behind, had tried to start over and now...," she left that last statement in the air.

"Finish your story, lil sis..."

"Vivian escaped and I let her. I did nothing to stop her. In the end, it didn't matter. Ramos found her anyway and his men gave her the beating of a lifetime. In all honesty, she should be dead right now. How she survived is nothing short of a fuckin' miracle. When Ramos found out she was alive, he killed one of the guys who failed to kill her to set an example and then he made sure the drugs were planted. At the time everything that Ramos told me and showed me let me believe that Sam was the one who planted the evidence. And I didn't really doubt that Sam had the motive do set Vivian up like that."

"Why would he bother?"

"For the most basic reason of all: revenge. Vivian may have slaughtered a beautiful car, but her bullets missing Sam doesn't change the fact that she tried to put them in him in the first place. Someone trying to kill you is not something you're likely to forget that quickly. Ramos had managed to get "proof" that it was Sam, and I believed him. It was the 'evidence' that I eventually tried to show Vivian."

"So, she really was innocent..."

"Of that, and only that, Red. Don't kid yourself, one 'innocent' moment, does not make up for a world of wrong. Believe me, I know."

"So, how did you manage to make it out alive yourself? You failed to follow orders...."

"Ramos knew that I would kill whoever he sent after me. Unlike Vivian, if he sent someone after me he knew I wouldn't miss. So, he went after someone I still loved instead."

"Aaron."

"Yes, Aaron. Much like the way I believed Ramos about Sam's 'betrayal,' Aaron believed him about 'mine' - and that, as they say, is that."

"Damn, Leigh. This story gets uglier and uglier."

"I know. And now we are all headed on a suicide mission on a rinky dink boat to go after Ramos' millions. Believe me, he will be more than prepared for us."

"How on earth could he know about all of us?"

"If I was able to find you guys with my limited resources, what trouble do you think a man like Ramos is going to have?"

"Not much, but look me in the eye and tell me that the idea of revenge doesn't give you a bit of a thrill?"

For the first time since she began her tale, the corners of Leigh's mouth turned up a bit.

"Revenge would be sweet...and the millions wouldn't hurt either...."

"Now, that's more like the Leigh I remember," Redjack said as he grinned and pulled out of the garage. "Don't forget who you are Leigh - the money and fancy clothes can't change that. Instead of saving a bullet for Sam why not save it for Ramos instead?"

Leigh looked at her brother as he drove. The aresenal expert who had taught her how to shoot her first gun did have a point. And it had been a long time since she had been in the game. Money and revenge all tied up in one little heist.

What more could she want?

The two cars pulled into the parking lot of a dock. A sign was nailed on a wooden post near the vehicles, saying 'Boats 4 Rent oar Buy'. It had an arrow pointed to a shack a few yards away, and behind the shack were boats of every size and age. A lone seagull called out and flew off towards the water.

Sam stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. "Ah, smell that air. Welcome to Maine. Or, as Jon Stewart once said, 'the South of the North'."

"This is...quaint," said Vivian. In truth she was worried about a seagull making a mess on her new coat. "Sort of reminds me of that little town in Jaws. You sure your friend can help us out?"

"As long as you're looking for something useful and not something pretty, then yes."

Leigh and Redjack stepped out of the van. "Kind of dingy, don't you think?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, but the Mauretania was already booked, and the Aquitania aft is so tacky and retro. This is a robbery, for Pete's sake, not a vacation."

Seth looked confused. "What's the Mauretainia?"

"It's a famous cruise liner."

"How," said Seth, "do you know shit like that?"

"Seth," said Sam. Someone had to stay focused. "You and Redjack are the most mechanically inclined. How about you two go with me to check out the boats? We may have to make a few changes before we ship out." He looked at Vivian and grinned. "That little plastic card of yours should cover any modifications, right?"

Chris realized that left him alone with the girls. No way in hell. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to stay here and watch the cars. I'll let you know when Aaron makes contact again."

Leigh did some quick math in her head. "We're going to be out to sea for days. We'll need some supplies and food." She turned around and looked back. Behind them, a single road lead down to a small main street where all the local businesses were. "I think there were a few stores back there."

"How cute," said Seth. "The girls are going to go off and shop."

"Shut up, Seth," said Leigh and Vivian at the same time.

“What do you think we should get first?”

The two women had been walking toward the main street in strained silence up until that point, and Vivian had finally spoken up.

“Food, water and supplies that you would find in a first aid kit would be the first things to get,” Leigh answered.

“Do you really think that bandages are going to help us against bullets?” Viv asked sarcastically.

“I don’t know – were you planning on getting shot?” Leigh countered.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Leigh stopped and turned to face Vivian. A salty breeze off the water blew through her hair and she tucked a strand of it behind her ear and said coolly, “If I had wanted you dead, I would’ve shot you …” she hesitated for a moment “…a long time ago. I don’t plan on shooting you now - unless you plan on giving me a reason to change my mind?”

Vivian stared back, not cowed by Leigh’s implied threat, but suddenly aware that she didn’t have a weapon on her. She would have to rectify that. And soon. “No,” she answered.

“Then let’s keep moving. We’re on the clock now and Ramos is going to be expecting us.”

They walked again, picking up the pace, passing cute shops that catered to the tourists that invaded this marine hamlet every year, silly knick knacks that no one ever needed, but always felt compelled to buy. One store had clothes and sandals and Leigh stopped in front of one for a moment.

“Now what?” Vivian asked trying unsuccessfully to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

Leigh looked down at her ‘40’s style peep-toe Miu Miu heels with an amused expression. “I need sneakers. I can’t go running around in 3 inch heels and not expect to trip up.”

“You couldn’t think of that before?”

“I’m thinking about it now,” she said as the tinkle of the store bell rang as she pushed open the door. Vivian, irritated, lit her cigarette and waited outside.

A few minutes later Leigh emerged in her new sneaks.

“You’re wearing Vans with your $2,000 suit?” Vivian smirked.

“Comfort over style.”

“They have skulls on them.” Viv noted, a cloud passing over her expression.

“What can I say? Given what we’re about to face I’m in a macabre mood.”

“Seth has a thing about skulls.”

Ok, here it comes - the shit storm is on its way, Leigh thought as she steeled herself for what was next.

“But you knew that, didn’t you? What else did you learn about my husband while you were screwing him?” Vivian asked with heat in her voice.

Leigh raised an eyebrow as she met Vivian’s eyes. “As I recall, he wasn’t your ‘husband’ by the time he found his way into my bed. In fact, you were very much divorced by that time.”

“You shouldn’t have gone near him, Leigh.” Vivian’s anger lit up her eyes.

“Why? Cause we’re such good friends?” she said sarcastically. “It was just one of those things, Vivian,” she said as she sighed. “It wasn’t love, it was … comfort. A fling. We were both rebounding. It started with one night of drinking, me with my whiskey, and Seth watering down the whiskey with that pisswater lite beer that he likes because he can’t handle whiskey on its own.”

“The man never could hold his liquor,” Vivian murmured in agreement.

Leigh continued, “We just talked about the ‘good ole days’ and about you. And about Aaron. Aaron no longer trusted me and had left; and you had gotten greedy and decided to take the money and run – without Seth. And then, on top of that, you were stupid enough to get caught and get your ass sent to prison.”

“I was innocent!” Vivian seethed.

“I know.” Leigh responded quietly.

Vivian paused. This was not the response she was expecting. Anger, taunting, sarcasm? Sure. But an acknowledgement of her innocence? Not from anyone. Especially not from Leigh.

Vivian looked at Leigh with her face turned sideways in skepticism. “What do you mean you ‘know’?” she asked warily.

“I used to work for Ramos. In another life. He knew that you were stealing from him and he ordered a hit on you…”

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Vivian asked abruptly.

Now it was Leigh’s turn to be surprised. “You knew?” she asked, incredulous.

“I always had a feeling, but wasn't totally sure until a few minutes ago when you told me that you could've killed me before. It all makes sense now. We weren’t what you would call ‘friends’ and yet you began teaching me how to shoot…”

“That poor, poor car…” Leigh said ruefully, but she couldn’t help but grin as she said it.

Vivian ignored her dig, “…and you became insistent that I learn how to handle a gun. It was…suspicious. You never said anything to me about Ramos, but I had my suspicions. And now I know.” Leigh nodded, taking in this revelation. “So, why didn’t you do it?” Vivian repeated.

“I thought you were pregnant. Turns out I was wrong. Turns out to be the only time you were probably innocent of anything too. I was wrong and you were innocent. Heh. There’s a first time for everything, I s’pose. After that, I thought that Sam was the one that had planted the drugs on you, but that turned out to be Ramos. Again. Then he set up Aaron….” Leigh stopped as she remembered. “That son of a bitch has ruined so many lives.” Leigh said bitterly.

“Yeah, well, payback is going to be a bitch.” Vivian stated.

“Two actually.”

It was a poor joke, but it was enough. Leigh and Vivian looked at each other and started to laugh – not because it was really funny, but because it was cathartic. The tension of the last 36 hours needed to vent and for a few seconds it did. When they regained their composure, Leigh spoke.

“He still loves you, y’know.”

Vivian said nothing, but bit her bottom lip and looked back towards the boat where the crew waited for them.

“And I love my brother. You and I may not like each other, but that’s irrelevant. This is business. I’d like to make it out not only alive, but with the money and in order to do that, we are going to have to trust each other – at least for the duration of this job.”

“You’re right. Let’s just get through this job as if it were any other. The sooner its over, the better.”

“Sure.”

The two turned and headed to the small grocery store on the next block.

“Oh, and Leigh?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever so much as kiss Seth again, I’ll kill you.”

Leigh smirked. “No worries,” she said as they entered the store.

Aaron had arrived while the girls were out, and met up with the rest of the crew while they were appraising boats.

"Can we out run Ramos in one of these?" Chris asked as Sam was looking over the controls.

"I doubt it." Sam responded.

"Well, if we do our respective jobs right, we won't have to." Aaron finished, handing out various packets to each of them.

"You've all worked together before, you should still know what's expected of each of you." Aaron leaned back into a chair. It was not as comfortable as what he'd once been used to. He allowed himself a small flicker of hope that would change soon before putting it out of his mind.

"Sam's our point man. He goes in first, shuts down all communications. Takes care of any guards." Seth started almost immediately falling back into the old role felt like a comfortable pair of worn boots.

"Very good, Seth. You did learn something in my employ." Aaron smirked.

"I learned a lot more than you want to admit to. Chris is our lookout. He keeps watch while the mission is underway. If things go bad, it's up to him to give us our heads up. Redjack will be our "insurance policy." Will we're inside he plants explosives around Ramos' place. When we're out, we give the signal and Jack does his thing."

"Which leaves you, me, and the girls to get inside, do the dirty work, and get out. Think we can do that without leaving anyone behind this time?" Aaron was needling Seth a little bit more, but there was a point. He wanted to see if Seth was going to let himself get pushed into an emotional corner, or if he was still capable of keeping his cool under pressure.

"Well, I think we can as long as someone isn't still feeling so sorry for themself that they decide they want to get caught again." Seth responded without missing a beat. He knew what Aaron was going for and wasn't going to let his buttons get pushed.

Redjack had been watching the exchange and now spoke up. "Are we sure we want Chris on lookout? Kid's kinda jumpy. I'm not comfortable with him having a piece, let alone watching over us all on this."

"We can't let paranoia start sinking in now. We have to get on the clock and put our "game faces" on." Aaron wasn't going to let emotions jeopardize this chance.

"Besides it's too late to find someone else. He'll do ok." Seth almost finished the thought.

"And if he does turn on us. . ." Aaron went on.

"He's shark bait." Seth and Jack said simultaneously. Aaron cracked a lopsided grin as Seth and Jack burst out laughing.

"What the hell are they laughing at back there?" Chris wondered.

"Probably something about Leigh and Vivian in a pool of jello or some other bullshit letter to Penthouse thing. You ever driven a boat before, kid?" Sam motioned for Chris to take the wheel. "Take us around the dock one time, I want to get a feel for how this baby handles."

Seth and Aaron walked out the back door. Aaron lit a cigarette, holding his hand to block the wind from the flame of his lighter, as Seth closed the door behind them. "This Redjack guy," Aaron said after taking the initial drag, "how are his nerves?"

"Steady," Seth said as he tipped back his beer bottle.

"Good. There will be more than just Ramos and his men on that boat. I won't be a party to cold-blooded murder."

Seth shook his head. "Just the engines and anything they can chase us down with. That's all he'll blow. We don't want anyone who doesn't deserve it to get hurt."

"About the girls."

"Yeah?"

The ashes crumbled off the tip of the cigarette and onto the ground. "If this is going to work, there's going to have to be some major changes."

Over an hour later, Leigh and Vivian returned to the house they'd rented. It wasn't terribly nice, but it was secluded and right on the water. Redjack and Chris were helping them bring in the supplies when they walked in on Aaron and Seth in the middle of a discussion at the dinner table. "... not going to like it," Seth was finishing up as he spread out the information before him.

"We brought wine," Leigh said, holding up the bottle for all to see.

"None for you two," Aaron said, standing up. "You've both got a doctor's appointment tomorrow. In Boston."

Vivian's voice dropped in tone. "What is all this?"

With a hesitant sigh Seth said, "Just hear him out, Viv. I'm afraid he makes sense."

"How long did you tell me earlier?" Aaron asked Sam.

Sitting at the kitchen bar, Sam had been sketching out his ideas for modifications for the boats and compiling a list of what was needed to make them happen. "A couple of weeks, maybe three on the boats themselves. That's me, Red, Chris, and Seth working around the clock. Another three to five days training, practicing, to get the plan workable. Then we're looking at another two to three days hauling the boats by trucks down to the Caribbean."

"Four weeks." Aaron nodded. "That should give you two enough time to recover."

"Recover?" Leigh asked. "Recover from what?"

"I can get aboard Ramos's boat with no problems. He may know of me, but he doesn't know me. I've devised an easy way for Seth to get on without being noticed. You two are the problem. He knows both of you. Pretty well, I'd imagine. So a simple wig and make-up job isn't going to be enough. We're going to have to be a bit more..... drastic."

"No," Vivian let out as what Aaron was saying began to dawn on her.

"Nothing major, I assure you. A little rhinoplasty, some work on the chin and cheeks, maybe even around the eyes."

"Some new boobs wouldn't hurt," Chris spoke out loud, though it didn't really sound as though he was trying to be part of the conversation.

Aaron struggled for a few moments to return to the topic at hand. "Well..... no..... no, they wouldn't. Aside from that, it's a simple matter of cutting and dying the hair and a little deception in changing the way you walk and talk. Of course, you two girls are pros in the area of deception."

"Aaron Mann, if you think for a minute that I'm letting someone cut into me, you're sadly mistaken!" Vivian was turning red. "You can just go back to New York right now."

"How much do you want this?" He picked up the picture of the Casino and held it in front of her. "You said it yourself. Eight million each. The biggest payday any of us have ever had. When the gain grows exponentially.... "

"... so does the risk and sacrifice," Vivian, Seth, and Leigh all answered in unison.

"That was freaky," Redjack muttered to Chris.

"Very Children of the Corn," he whispered back.

Aaron continued, "If you want it, this is what you've got to do for it. Either that, or step aside to let someone else step up who will. That goes for both of you."

Vivian had vanished around seven that evening. Everyone else was too preoccupied to notice. Seth, Aaron, and Redjack were pulling out phonebooks and writing lists of needed supplies.

Redjack took a sip of the wine Leigh had bought for them. "For something like this, the priority has to be silence over speed. Agreed?" The other two nodded. "I can tear apart the current motor and make it run quiet as a shadow in less than a week."

"Assuming you can get the parts," said Seth.

"Not a problem. We can't risk them being mailed here, so they'll be sent to the docks. There's a garage there where we can work. Thing is, we'll have to do a lot of the modifications at night."

"Which means noise," said Aaron. "People are bound to get suspicious. I've got that part covered. I'll be spending the next few days spreading rumors about scientists visiting the area to study endangered frogs."

"Endangered frogs?" asked Seth.

"Everyone hears about frogs being endangered everywhere on the planet. People will believe just about anything in the newspaper. Including nighttime frog research."

Redjack looked at his glass. It was empty. He turned around to refill when he noticed something odd. "Hey, didn't Leigh buy five bottles? Where's the fifth?"

"Shit," said Seth. He got out of his chair and marched upstairs. Redjack took a look at Aaron. "I miss this sort of interaction, don't you?"

*** *** ***

Vivian wasn't in the room that she was sharing with Leigh. Seth walked farther down the hall into his room. Vivian was lying on the bed, limp as a doll, with her hair fanned on the pillow. "Well, this is just great."

"Hey there, stallion. Bet you're wondering what I have on underneath this little black skirt."

"Not at the moment."

"Liar." Vivian began giggling.

Seth looked around for the bottle. "Damnit, Viv, you've spent over two years sober as a judge. Not by choice, of course. But if you're going to drink, you better slow down a little."

"Why?" Another giggle. "I want to be drunk." She stretched out her arms, her fingers along the headboard. "I love it when my muscles feel this relax." She held up her foot and began waving it at the ankle. "Take off my shoe."

Seth sat on the bed and unlatched the silver buckle wrapped around the heel. The little black shoe came off easily. He tossed it on the ground. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," she got up and leaned closer to him. "Kiss me."

Vivian wrapped her arms around his neck. He could smell strawberry on her breath. Seth pulled them away. "Not when you're drunk."

Vivian looked hurt. Or scared. Seth couldn't tell. "Why?" She let her finger run on the scar. "You think I'm not pretty anymore?"

"I still think you're pretty."

"Well if i'm not ugly on the outside, it must be something on the inside." She tried to lean back, but was too drunk to do it in a gracefull manner. She sort of flopped back, bouncing on the bed. "Am I really that ugly on the inside?"

Leaning back had its advantages. She moved her legs this way and that until she had them around Seth's waist. She hadn't done that since the job in Veince. "It wouldn't be any work to strip you naked and have you pinned up against the wall." He leaned forward. "But I'm not going to do it unless you ask me sober."

She had been so close! She had almost brought him to his knees. But this new-found pickiness of Seth's only angered Vivian. "Damn you Seth, you and your cocky little bull. You never could get a girl unless she was drunk. Bet that's how you got busy with that stripper...trainee...pole dancer..."

"Feature dancer?"

"Damnit! I know that!" Her usually slow drawl sped up until Seth could hardly make out the insults thrown at him. "I hope a rattlesnake crawls into your beat-up old boots. Better yet, one of those bozer briefs with the holes in them. I pray you get struck by lightning. IhopethatChevyPOScrashesintotheRioGrandeandyourassgetsshotatbytheborderpatrol --"

"Well damn, I never could resist you when you were pissed." He grabbed her thigh with his left hand and allowed himself to fall on top of her. He kissed her once and then shook his head. "How about a little more participation on your side of the -- Viv?"

Physically exhausted, mentally drained, drunk as a moose, defeated, and rejected by her man, Vivian had passed out snoring, her hair still fanned on the pillow.

"What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?," Jack asked his sister as he sat down on the steps beside her. Leigh had stepped out for a smoke earlier and had remained outside the steps of the tiny cabin they were all being crammed into and forced to share with one another. After Aaron's bombshell she needed time alone to think.

Jack pulled out a pack of Parliments and offered one to her.

"You don't smoke," she said, a question in her eyes, as she took one.

"But you do," he answered nonchalantly and produced a lighter and lit her cigarette. then he took one out and lit his own. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow in question, and he shrugged. She held his hand steady as she leaned over to light it and looked at the lighter in his hand, reading what was inscribed.

" 'Fuck Communism?' " she asked with a laugh. "You and your comic books," she looked at her brother affectionately.

"What?" Jack said a little defensively.

"Honey, this isn't Preacher," she said, becoming serious. "Our story may not have a happily ever after for all of us."

"I know that, Leigh."

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the calm, relatively flat surface of the water as she took a drag. But for the sound of the crickets, the air was still.

"You think this is crazy, don't you?" Jack finally asked.

"Yeah, I do. But 'crazy' is interesting. Normal is just plain boring. Believe me, I've spent the past few years trying to be 'normal' and blend in and its not what its cracked up to be." She grinned, but there was no humor in it. "But this is probably more dangerous than any heist I've ever been involved in."

"Why?"

"Because every other time it was only about the money. This time there's revenge and that means emotions are involved. People start thinking with their hearts instead of their heads and that's when it becomes dangerous." She turned and looked at Jack. He's the only blood I have left, she thought. She put out the remainder of her cigarette and tossed it aside and then reached out and put a hand gently under his chin. He looks so much like dad. We both do. Same red hair... The irony that she was thinking with her heart concerning her brother's safety did not escape her.

"Leigh...?" Jack asked.

"Jack, I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"If things start to go badly, if it looks like this isn't going to work, I want ...I want you to get out."

"Leigh!" He started to say in reprimand and tried to move away, but she put a hand on either side of his face and forced him to meet her gaze. "I'm serious, Jack. Fuck the money, fuck Ramos, and fuck everything else. Even me. If you have to, leave me behind as well. This isn't like what we've all done before. It's more dangerous. Promise me - whatever it takes - you'll get out of this alive. Please...."

Jack looked at his sister sadly. "You know I can't do that, Leigh. Please don't ask me to."

"You know that each of those bastards in there wouldn't even think twice about leaving either of us behind, right?"

"It's not who I am. I gave my word I would see this through. I can't break it."

"A person is only a good as their word," Leigh said, repeating something their father had said as a mantra.

"Yeah. You remember."

Leigh sighed. "Then promise me you'll be more careful than usual."

"You're involved in this, Leigh. For that reason alone I will be. For both of us."

Leigh smiled softly and kissed her brother on the forehead.

"C'mon." She said.

"Back inside?"

"Yeah, there are couple of things that we have to discuss."

The two got up and went inside leaving the calm behind.

*******

Seth was entering the common room as Leigh and Jack walked in. Aaron was discussing something with Sam around the table adn Chris leaned up against the wall listing. Empty beer bottles littered the area.

"We're not having surgery," Leigh announced firmly.

"What?" Aaron said, immediately looking up. "I thought that we decided..."

"No you decided."

"Leigh, I think..."

"Aaron, my days of caring what you think are long gone," she said coldly. They stared at each other for a moment and then Aaron scowled.

"Viv couldn't do it anyway. She's drunk," Seth volunteered.

"There." Leigh said. "No eating or drinking can be done 12 hours before any surgery. So, that settles it."

"Too bad." Chris said. "A new set of boobs on both of you woul--"

"If you so much as finish that sentence I'll rip your fucking heart out and have it for breakfast," Leigh said looking at Chris with no trace of humor. Chris immediately became quiet.

"The surgery could be re-scheduled...," Aaron began. He was pissed. He hates when his plans aren't followed to the letter Leigh though, amused at his annoyance.

"And what? Screw up with your precious timeline? No, by the time it would be re-scheduled and we healed, Ramos would have set sail. And I'm surprised Aaron. You used to be more about stealth. Once upon a time we would hit our mark without him even knowing that anything was gone for at least 72 hours, let alone worrying about him seeing us immediately. Now you would put two of your operatives out in the open - out in danger's way - and your 'plan' to make sure they are safe and undetected is to surgicallly alter their looks?" she said with contempt. "You're losing your touch, Aaron. You used to be better than this."

The room was heavy with tension. No one said a word for a moment.

"Hell hath no fury..." Chris finally muttered. In a flash an empty beer bottle shattered next to his head. His face couldn't hide his shock.

"Jesus Christ, woman...you missed." Sam said, trying not to laugh.

"I only wanted his attention. And I can promise you, the next one won't," she said her eyes on Chris. "What did I say to you about opening your mouth?"

Chris said nothing, but glared at her silently.

Aaron hadn't taken his eyes off of Leigh. "You have a better idea about what to do with you and Vivian?" he challenged.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

The group remained quiet as she began to talk.

"I need a moment alone with Leigh," Aaron said in a very serious tone.

Seth held Redjack back and led him to the back door, "I could use a smoke myself." Chris and Sam uneasily followed them out.

When the door had shut, Aaron began again. "What is it exactly that you're trying to do here?"

"I'm trying to help," Leigh responded.

"No you're not. You haven't tried to help anyone here since you brought yourself in." He walked up to her. "You started off by trying to convince everyone that this was a bad idea. When that didn't work, you began to tag along and cozy up to the people you thought you could most easily manipulate."

"That's not...," she cried out.

"I know about your and Redjack's conversations, and I'm pretty sure you and Viv had a little girl bonding time in town. You're moving in close and working on destabilizing the team. I want to know why you're so scared of Ramos."

Leigh crossed her arms. She wouldn't even look at Aaron as she answered. "I'm not scared of him."

"The hell you're not. Two days ago, you called me in a panic. Then you went to the Hilton with a loaded gun knowing you were going to be outnumbered. Not to mention that you've spent the past two years hiding in your New York penthouse. You know damn well that we've got to get on that boat beforehand or else this is just some sloppy smash and grab heist where people are going to die, yet you're doing your damnedest to keep that from happening."

"It's dangerous."

"It's what's necessary to keep people from dieing, and you know it. We've got to be on that ship, and Ramos and his men are going to be looking for Vivian and probably you if they ever find out that you're missing from the social scene of Manhattan. Now I want to know why this guy has you so scared. And I don't want any bullshit story were you're the frail female victim of it all. We both know better than that. Give me the truth."

Chris walked to the far end of the long patio where it was darker. He could overhear Seth and Redjack talking under the light about possibly fitting the boats with weapons. He shuddered slightly.

"More guns..." he muttered to himself.

"Guns still make you nervous kid?" said a voice from the shadow. Startled, Chris turned around trying to pinpoint the location of the voice. A hand came down on his shoulder from behind.

"Whoa! Jesus man, what the fuck?!" he said angrily."Do you have to do that?"

Sam chuckled. "Heh...sorry man. Besides making sure I still got it, I was testing your nerves a little. You know you've got to keep your cool when you're out there playing lookout for us."

"Yeah I know, I know." Chris sounded annoyed. "Look, I'm no novice. I know what to do."

"I never questioned that. But there is a difference between knowing what to do and getting it done." Sam reached in his jacket and started to hand Chris something. "Here. For any emergency situations up there..."

Chris held the gun up. "Whoa."

"Yeah..." Sam could tell he was impressed. "Its an FC five-seven. This gun is no joke. This is a 20-round, semi-automatic weapon with an attached suppressor."

"For when you absolutely have to eliminate someone quietly eh?" Chris asked still looking at the weapon in his hands.

"Exactly. Though I give it to you with a warning."

"Whats that...?" Chris finally looked up again at Sam only to be staring down the barrel of another gun. His heart jumped.

"When you're holding something like that, you can't hesitate. Otherwise you may find yourself in a posistion like this. Got it?"

"...Got it." Chris swallowed down his fear.

"Oh yeah, one more thing. Keep it away from Vivian. We don't need her putting any holes in anything on this job."