The marketplace was busy and Crow didn't look like anything special. Nothing about him stood out from the milling throng on this Sunday morning bazaar.<br/><br/>Crow had pegged his mark. He slid up behind her and his knife flashed quick. Hana peered at him out of a nearby alley. At ten years old Hana was a long-legged tomboy. He'd told her a thousand times, if it goes sour, just run.<br/><br/>Her wallet slid from her slit purse, and he took it and began to turn away.<br/><br/>He made it. Hana would eat tonight. This woman looked wealthy.