<strong>Susan Cochrane<br/>At a warehouse/ultimate fighting ring</strong><br/><br/>The door detail were Latin Kings, Susan was sure of it.  And they recognized her, passed her through with grins, eyes roaming over her body, Spanish words she could pretend not to understand.  The usual shit, she was used to it.  But... they recognized her, and she was not sure at all how to feel about that.<br/><br/><br/>Smacking crunch of flesh on flesh, a hard hit but a sloppy one.<br/><br/><br/>The first fight was just heating up, two men bouncing out of their corners....nothing like the sweet science, this was quick and brutal.  Like a real hand to hand fight.  Susan had dealt with the aftermath of those, you bet.<br/><br/>This was not at all what she had expected, and she was a little pissed about it.  Base fee for showing up, keeping her mouth shut about it, pay from whichever drivers got hurt - hopefully none, she was humane enough to hope for that.  And of course the various patchup jobs from fights among the crowd, drunken or stoned fools doing stupid things, it would have been a good night, a very good night.<br/><br/>"200, John?  200 will get me here and keep my mouth shut about it."<em> Latin Kings.  John is mixed up with those guys?  He isn't showing any gang ink, and I've seen him at his poolside.</em>"My pay matches up with my effort, you know that."  She pretended to watch the fight, her mind racing.<em>Latin Kings.  Shit.  I'm in it now, whatever it is.</em>She could feel the two hardguys behind her, whether they were looking at her or not, she could feel them there.<br/><br/>"200, plus another hundred for everybody that badly hurt."  John started tuning up.  "100, John.  I'll do it right, you know I'm worth it and I was never here."  Her car would have to wait, but at least she could restock her kit.<em> That crack about dispensing healing, well, we'll see.<br/></em>