Page 70 of Tony

“Oh, you will. Trust me. So… first of all I would like to prelude this convo with the disclaimer that I’m a good dude.”

She laughs. “Noted.”

“And that sometimes doing the right thing involves breaking the law.”

“Hmm. OK.”

“My father started this little mission we’re on a long time ago. Decades ago. So it wasn’t our idea. It was just something my brother Alonzo and I grew up with.”

“Like being in a Mob family.” She winks at me.

“Kinda. Sure.”

“Just tell me what you guys do, Tony. Trust me when I say that no matter what it is, I’ve seen worse.”

I point at her. “You’re not going to get out of explaining that.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“OK. Fine. We smuggle people into the US. Kids, mostly. But sometimes younger women too. Especially pregnant ones. And we’re not sleazy sex-traffickers, either. We’re just trying to make a difference in the lives of less fortunate kids. Most of them are orphans from different Central American countries. But we do a lot of runs from Haiti and every now and then Cuba too. We pick them up in the ocean and take them to safe houses along the East Coast and get them fake papers.”

“Wow. That’s… lofty. And impressive. And… wow, Tony.” She makes a pouty face. “You have a secret squishy side.”

“I do,” I say. “But it’s not all sunshine and roses. See, for a long time we’ve had this deal with the FBI. They cover for us. They kinda had our backs. But this last mission, just a few months ago, it became very apparent that the FBI wasn’t really covering for us. They were up to something else and they were using us to hide that.”

“Damn. Fuck. What were they up to?”

“We’re not one hundred percent sure, but it’s also probably smuggling kids. Just… not for the same reasons.”

“Shit.”

“It’s hard to tell though, because we’ve done dozens of these missions over the years. And only two of them went sideways.”

“What’s that mean?”

“The FBI only cared about two of these missions. Two missions that were smuggling in little girls.”

“Oh, no.”

“No. It’s not what you think. They weren’t meant for sex trafficking either.”

“How do you know?”

“Because these are very special little girls.”

“Special how?”

“They’re assassins.”

“What?” She laughs. Loudly. “Say that again.”

“They’re assassins, Soshee. I am not fucking around. I met one of these girls a few months ago. Her name is Wendy. And Wendy is the creepiest teenage girl you’ve ever seen in your life. Oh, she’s beautiful. Don’t get me wrong. She’s all blonde hair and blue eyes. Perfect, angelic face. But she’s a cold-blooded killer.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No.” I pause to stare at her. “I swear on my sweet mother’s life, I am not fucking with you. The FBI is collecting these girls.”

“OK,” she says. But I can hear the healthy dose of suspicion in her voice. “Keep going.”