<strong>Kelli Morris<br/>Little Havana<br/>Traffic accident and shoot-out</strong><br/>Tom whistled approvingly.<br/>"That was fast! Drive a couple streets to the south."<br/>She did as she was told, and Tom, grinning like a maniac, told her to move in a sidestreet.<br/>"Stop here. Target's going to come out of that door over there", he instructed her, pulling out a picture.<br/>There were two black men that came out, though. The taller one was obviously heavily muscled under the rather heavy coat. The other one was sporting a lighter leather jacket.<br/>Were these guys insane, or did they fear the rain so much? There was nobody to answer that. Tom, however, nodded at her.<br/>"There, miss... the taller nigger that's all dressed not to freeze up. Hah!"<br/>As soon as she moved, the taller one turned his head towards them, then moved to say something at the other one. She accelerated, moving towards him, and winked as he did a cartwheel, passing in front of the moving car.<br/>However, he had Kelli behind the wheel, and not some amateur. She swerved, and hit his foot with the rear wheel, knocking him over. The sound of breaking bones was followed by a shriek.<br/>The other man has pulled in the other direction and was pulling out a gun that looked big enough to be illegal. Then he aimed coolly, and opened fire.<br/>The first shot broke the window near Kelli's head, and she sunk even lower in her seat.<br/>Maybe she was praying now. Maybe she had forgotten how.<br/>"Filhos da puta!", the man shouted, and dropped down as Tom turned back and opened fire with a small, silvery gun he had seemingly pulled out of nowhere. The man was struck, and sank to the ground, or maybe dropped for better cover.<br/>Then she saw in the rear mirror that he did something with his gun, and the weapon started to shoot like a fully automatic one. At least a dozen shots were flying their way. Tom was shot in turn, and her seat was shredded, but the bullets thankfully missed the head. Then Kelli saw an opening, and swerved, so now the shooter didn't see them at all.<br/>Tom's return shot had gone wide, too, and he sank in his seat, clutching the wound near his neck.<br/>"Bastard nigger sonuvabitch!", he cursed. "Apologies for the foul language, miss! The fuc...he got me, though!"<br/>He didn't seem in danger of dying, although he was bleeding.