The sound of a text message woke Robbie from his sleep.  Opening one eye, he checked the time - it was an hour before his alarm would normally have gone off.  With a groan he grabbed the little burner phone and clicked open the message.  An anonymous number had texted him a few terse sentences.  He had no doubt in his mind whom the message was from.  "So the night's hunt is off, but I've gotta hurry up right now and head downtown so I can wait around on standby."  He scratched behind his ear and yawned.  "Great."<br/><br/>Robbie was a man in his twenties, with warm green eyes, long, dark brown hair, and neatly-trimmed stubble.  Technically, he was also a criminal.  When he wasn't having his nights off ruined by the guy on the other end of the cell phone, he was a private pilot that worked for the local organized crime family.  Robbie's his bedroom was located in an upstairs storage room of one of their hangars, on the outskirts of the city.<br/><br/>As he climbed down the metal stairs to use the shower room, Robbie waved a casual hello to the two guards sitting in lawn chairs on the first floor.  Each of them was armed with a submachine gun.  They were also chowing down on cheeseburgers while watching a baseball game, and merrily waved back.<br/><br/>//////////////////////<br/><br/>The homeless man followed the mysterious woman at a distance, stealing a glance over his own shoulder every now and then, as he did.  It was not long before she turned into an alleyway.  He did not arrive in time to witness what she had done to the body of Mai Luong, but he heard the slap of a dumpster lid closing in the alleyway, and as he turned the corner himself he could smell the aroma of charred flesh venting from what was likely the same dumpster.  At the same time, he could see the woman climb in the car, start it, and...  not drive off. It seemed she had wanted him to follow, after all.  She was waiting for him.  He checked over his shoulder, and peered down to the back of the alleyway, then, seeing nothing, he climbed into the back seat of the Honda, behind the mysterious woman.  Immediately, he was met with the vinegary smell of heroin, and frowned, but did not remark on it.  Not yet, anyway.  He closed the door with a soft {click} and said softly, in English, "Those coins are quite unusual, around here."