<strong>Malaya<br/>Drinking in her preferred bar<br/>Evening of August 1st</strong><br/>Malaya was looking at her drink. A couple guys who knew her were in the bar, but both knew she shouldn't be bothered when in this mood.<br/>That was when the phone rang. The guy calling her was known simply as "Butterfly" among the Filipino community. Most thought it was because he loved the balisong.<br/>She knew better.<br/>"Mali", he called her. Not many people could call her that, but he was an old friend. "Just woke up from my trance. Please, tell me you haven't been there last night?"<br/>She knew he was talking about the scheduled illegal fights.<br/>No, she hasn't been there. They had a catfight, but to get in this tournament, you had to have a sponsor. She didn't.<br/>Granted, it wouldn't be a good idea talking about this on the phone, but there were two considerations.<br/>One, he wasn't using anything that a speech detector could recognize.<br/>Second, he was really, really good with computers. She doubted that the DEA could listen to<em>his</em>phone. But maybe she just didn't know enough. After all, the Butterfly - called that because he could fly somewhere, steal data, and get away unnoticed - was obviously prudent.<br/>But before she could answer, the old TV had the news interrupting the regular broadcasting. The volume was turned down, of course, but she could see the "Sniper attacks in Miami Beach during birthday party" sub-titles running under the picture of Nix.<br/>She knew he was a rich guy from the Dixies. He used to organise illegal fights. Rumour was, he was the one that got some Brazilians angry last night. Everybody expected a retribution, but he had decided to show his house is his castle indeed - by running his kids birthday party as expected.