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</div>"Bitch bitch bitch! Fucking shitty cow-bitch mother-fucker!" Lori swore violently as she saw the Beamer squeal it's tyres away down the road. The stolen car was their getaway vehicle, but instead of waiting for Lori to get in, her partner - now ex-partner (and ex-lover too) Cari had floored the accelerator the moment the bag of money had hit the back seat. "You fucking.... Ah SHIT!" The sound of a police siren made her turn and dive into a nearby alley. She yanked off the ski mask, stuffed it into her backpack,  shook her hair loose, pulled off the cheap baggy sweater she was wearing, stuffed it into her backpack along with her colt .45 automatic, on top of the few bundles of notes she'd stuffed in there, then one last thing. It pained her to do it, but it was necessary. She pulled out her pocket knife and cut several slashes in the legs of her jeans, then used her hands to fray the edges.<br/><br/>Now clad in a black tank top and ripped jeans, she looked very little like the androgynous person who had just robbed the convenience store across the road. She sauntered back out of the alley to join the crowd of curious citizens, pressing forward against a police line to see what had happened. When told to move on, she did so reluctantly, then as soon as she was out of sight, she leaned against a wall and took a few moments to get her heart rate under control. "If I ever find you, you cow, I will make you choke to death on your own piss!"<br/><br/>As Cari had clearly not intended to stick to the plan at all, Lori wondered if the bitch-whore had gone along with the sensible part or if she had kept the stolen BMW and driven out of town in it. They were planning to blow the town of Hawthorn NV anyway. All loose ends were tied up. The plan had been to rob the convenience store just half an hour before the security truck showed up to take the takings to the bank. By Lori's estimate they had got away with close to two grand. Or Cari had. Lori had about two hundred in used bank notes. They were going to head to Vegas to run some long cons. Lori had been training Cari for a year. The haul from the convenience store was supposed to top up what they'd made running short cons, and bankroll the long cons they were planning.<br/><br/>Well that was out the window. Lori walked at as casual a pace as she could manage, until she came to the strip mall where they had planned to dump the BMW and had left Lori's pick-up parked. The pick-up was still there, the beamer was not. "Stupid as well as a double-crossing bitch!" She snorted, with a wry laugh. The keys to the truck were behind the sun-visor. The truck was already loaded with their clothes. Except Cari's hold-all was gone. So she had been here, had decided to keep the stolen sports car. What an idiot!<br/><br/>Lori climbed in and started the engine, drove out of town calmly and sedately. Just another law-abiding citizen going about her business.<br/><br/>It was well past 9:00pm as she drove through the little one-horse town of Beatie, not much different to Hawthorne except it seemed to boast more of a tourist industry, what with being this close to the lowest point on the planet. On dry land, anyway.It was dark, she'd had a tough day, what with over an hour walking to the car from where she'd robbed the store and a three hour drive on top. There was a motel. That would do. And just before it on the other side of the road was a diner, boasting good food and good prices. She swung the old pick-up into the motel parking lot and turned off the engine, headed in, got herself a room, paid cash. Then headed across the road to the diner. The girl behind the bar looked exhausted, worn down and fucked over. Much as Lori had felt a few years back, before she'd discovered that crime could be made to pay if you did it right. She laughed at the greeting. "Afternoon? How long have you been standing there, hun? Have you looked out the window lately? It's gone nine!" She smiled at the kid's obvious confusion. Time flies when you're having fun, they say, but when you're bored out of your mind and half asleep it's so very easy to loose track.<br/><br/>"Anyway, I'll have a bottle of something cold, and a plate of something hot. Whatever you recommend that's good." She shrugged. The girl headed back into the kitchen after thumping a bottle of beer on the counter in front of her. "You work here by yerself?" She called out, over the sound of clattering pans. The kid pointed out the owners and Lori snorted in derision. They looked just the type. "They don't make you fuck 'em too, do they?" She asked, in a more conspiratorial tone. Her food arrived quickly, and she tucked in. "Heh, girl can cook, too. You ever thought about gettin' married? You'll make someone a real nice wife!" She joked. "Of course that assumes you're a good fuck too...!"<br/><br/>Lori ordered up a second helping and two more beers, then bought the girl one. The place had mostly emptied by then and she offered the girl one. "So what's yer name? I'm Lorraine. Most folks call me Lori." She offered a hand, and when it was shaken, she held Mel's hand a little longer than she would have, normally, stroked it with her thumb. She glanced up at the clock behind the bar. "Shit, it's almost midnight! What time d'ya get off? Goddess, that's a cheesy pick-up line, isn't it? Straight out of that old movie... What's it called? Redford and Newman. Not Butch and Sundance, the other one.... The Sting, that's it! There's a scene where Redford's character is alone in this all-night diner and he's chatting up the woman that works there. She says something like, 'Do I know you?' No... it's 'I don't know you', and Redford says 'You know me. I'm the same as you. It's two in the mornin' an' I don't know nobody...' Something like that anyway."<br/><br/>She laughed. "Of course the woman turns out to be the assassin, but hey, you can't win 'em all!"<br/><br/>Lori finished her third beer and shook her head. "Look, it's not gonna get busier here. Place is dead. I'll walk ya home. yeah? Come on."