As the elevator slides open, Tzahala is greeted by a wave of tropical heat that immediately causes her cheeks and brow to take on a pleasant glow in the early morning sun. It's going to be hot today... but at least the air is nice and (mostly) dry, so the israeli woman isn't likely to get rained on at some point during her travels. Small blessings... god knows that the heat come mid-day will likely have most people wishing for rain.<br/><br/>But the day is just starting, and the heat is more of a pleasant simmer than a rolling boil just yet. And the streets are popping... enough pedestrians are walking the streets that Hazan's car is only just now pulling to a stop at the door in front of her. That job she'd done for the Fists continues to pay off, she notices- as always, her car is neat and pristine, kept safe in the private spot allotted to her by the gang. And of course, she's still getting some appreciative winks and "special offers" from the girls who work her corner... some of them brazen enough to make even the most liberated of minds blush.<br/><br/>"Oi, girlie..." Speak of the devil... Liza is working the corner today, wearing a bright blue-and-green string bikini with four inch green stiletto heels. She's one of the Fist's older girls... but she wears her age well, and claims to do so naturally. And she's sold more than one john based on her knowing her job better than any of the other women on the block. "You're lookin' especially sweet today. Off to some hot date Downtown?"<br/><br/>The older woman strides across the sidewalk with a<em>click-click-click</em>of her thin plastic heels, letting her strut catch the attention of a couple of Little Havana's transient population as she moves in to inspect the runner in her pristine white glory.<br/><br/>"Hmm. Well, if it was me you was seein', I'd likely be diggin' in my wallets for you the second I saw you lookin' like this. You gonna knock 'em dead... an' if you feel like spicin' things up, you know I'd be happy to cut you a deal to make sure your night is more memorable than the rest of your day together..." With a grin, the woman bends over (letting Hazan catch a look at her own generous cleavage in the car's side mirror) and blows Tzahala a kiss as the door closes. "Have fun!"<br/><br/>And then Hazan is off. The cold breath of the Hyundai's AC unit kicks up quickly, turning the car into a welcome shield against the hot Florida sun; and the tinted windows provide an equally welcome shield against the gawking of vacationers and locals alike. More than one pair of eyes looks at the vehicle hungrily... but none would dare take a shot at something that's been marked as protected by the Fists. Soon, though, both heat and eyes have completely faded away, and the Hyundai is zipping steadily along the main transit roads out west and south. Most of the rush hour traffic has completely faded by this point, making the roads mostly bearable... sure, there're a few dopes still cutting corners and merging without their blinkers, but that's par for the course in a city this size. And that makes the trip out to the south Flagler district nice and easy...<br/><br/><hr/><br/>About twenty minutes later, the Hyundai finally reaches its destination: a quaint, old-style apartment complex just north of the canal that divides the Flagler district from the Coral City Limits down south. Thanks to her card-key, the woman is able to drive right on through the heavy iron gate that separates the<em>Terra Bonita</em>apartments from the rest of the suburb, and pull right on through until she reaches Cori's building. Immediately upon parking, Hazan can see that her contact's little Bug is nowhere to be seen, meaning that Cori has probably stepped out to run a quick errand, figuring to be back before Hazan made her way out to this particular neck of the woods...