Susan Cochrane<br/>At the Illegal Pitfights<br/><br/>"You'll know where to find me, but I'll be watching."<br/><br/>Susan had been about to ask John to call the fight, she relaxed inwardly.  There was a reason she had dropped everything to answer the call.  John paid well, and was  reasonable as far as illegal entertainment promoters went.  The great white hope would have deep and nasty bruises, maybe bruised femurs, but no broken bones.  If he was lucky.  Nothing that would require her attention.  His own crew could handle it.  Speaking of crews... she saw a knot of cut men and beelined for them.  Trainers who knew advanced first aid, little more than that, had medical kits that made hers look like a trauma center set.<br/><br/>"Damian, Jason, Urbano, good to see you again!" Mostly older men, she was the only woman among them.  "Who's this?  Peter, good to meet you."  One of  few women at the fight, in fact.  And the only one without an escort.  Well, the only one who didn't do her best work on her back or knees, anyway.  But that was being catty.  Just being with the cut men, being seen as part of their group, it helped.  The eyes of the men watching her lifted, softened a bit.  The solo chica blanca had a place, a role.  She was no longer potential prey.  Mostly not.  She made a point of looking alert.  She fished a bottle of Coke out of her carryall, cracked it open and drank, putting the top back on at once.  She might have to move very fast at no notice.