She relaxed with a glass of white wine dangling in her hand. Elise was a light drinker; she took care to know the wine styles and vineyard brands that were low on the alcohol content. Her creed taught her moderation in all things.

She now sat with soft electronic music from the melancholy soundtrack of a romantic comedy piped in through the RV walls after she indulged in a shower. Sitting in a mere cotton sleeveless shirt and silk boxers, Elise needed to unwind from the special mesh gear she wore to contain her condition.

Mostly she felt that after several days of intense work with del Alma-Gris and her crew, and being too tired for anything else, she owed Fiona an evening of love-making.

Of course, she certainly needed the distressor sex for her own better mental health. So here Elise sat as she lit a scented candle attempting to put all of her professional cares behind her.

Fiona pulled up in her personal jeep that bore the odd olive and aquamarine color scheme the young woman mistook for it being hep. She jumped out of the driver's seat, and grabbed the supplies she carried in a cardboard box from the QuickMart run that Elise sent her on.

Entering Elise's recreational vehicle, Fiona flashed her a large, dimpled smile on sight.

"Mmm, damn. Look at what I have to look forward to. Hotness just sitting there so way out of my league."

Elise sat with her shoulders thrown back, and her eyes and smile squared up, lingering in a forward gaze.

"Hey baby, you deserve it. Don't doubt that for a minute."

Fiona prompted her to stand up. She held Elise by the rump, and rolled her palms along the rock solid glutes with delicate attention as she made cooing grunts.

Elise held her neck slanted aside with an inviting look in her eyes. The buzz of the first glass of wine was kicking in and she was flushed with warmth.

Finally, Fiona grew silent and yielded her hands away from her indulgence in foreplay.

Elise protested.

"Don't stop!"

Fiona shook her head.

"I have the stink of the day still on me."

"That makes me feel all the hotter," Elise answered as she clasped Fiona's green denim jumper at the shoulders.

With a wrinkled frown cresting above her brow, Fiona gestured to the bed Elise spread out for the occasion that lay covered in pink silk sheets covered in the folding petals of multi-colored orchid blooms.

"I'm not spoiling that which you did so lovingly with this. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Well, poo. But if you must, you must."

They exchanged a quick kiss before Fiona headed to the shower room and shut the door behind her.

What to do in the meantime? Elise could always light a few more candles, right? Add a sandalwood and mocha taper over in that far corner to contrast with the basic lavender aroma that filled the RV interior.

Elise suddenly felt that something was not quite right. She realized it wasn't so much her professional instinct nor personal intuition that gave the warning but instead her cornea was about to accept a data pour through its transversal gate.

The RVs defensive system triggered a blue warning light to ride a course along the ceiling parameter. Her choice of music faded out. The outer defensive AI finally fed Elise the anticipated information dump.

She visualized a jeep with just as outrageous a color scheme as Birddog's vehicle approaching - all done up in a pink camo design.

Perfectly timed if this is a home invasion.

Elise didn't waste any time to decide how to react. She slipped on her lower back brace and a pair of jeans. Deciding that she could handle matters barefoot, Elise grabbed her 10mm Magellani Terra Bruciata Revolver.

It was fully chambered, and the recoil mitigator glove wrapped around her hand after Elise squeezed out the right pattern on the handle.

"Fiona, we've got company," Elise yelled.

"My PA is lit up. Got my gear with me. Be out in a minute."

A second data stream read through the bounty hunter's cornea. She got a good look at the couple who now approached.

"Never mind, Fiona. Go back to enjoying your shower. But it does look like sex is on hold."

"Well, shit." Birddog did indeed sound disappointed.

"Right with you on that, Chief."

Elise slipped on a light ChitinTech impact vest over her sleeveless shirt. As there was a knock at her door, she placed the revolver into a holster custom built into the interior of the jacket.

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"I'm coming," Elise said as she opened the door. "You caught us at a bad time, Sachmilli. Let us take this outside."

She decided to exaggerate for negotiating purposes how personally inconvenient the venture could be if he was in immediate need of her services.

Elise continued.

"My girlfriend is inside and we were just commencing with making love when you arrived."

Through long silky white hair Sachmilli glanced coyly at the tall redhead at his side. She was a beauty, and Elise recognized her from somewhere.

"Forgive our interruption, but I took your advice. I have come here to save my boy, and I need your help."

'Help', wasn't a word Elise liked to hear when dealing with clients. Her posture tightened up, and she grimaced.

Both of the emotive reactions she failed at suppressing in spite of her effort. A long history of clientele bad faith triggered the flinch.

Regret streamed through Elise's nerves for she could tell in her earlier conversation that Sachmilli was anything but a bad faith operator.

Elise nodded to clarify that scrutiny did not imply rejection. "I'm listening. Let's go sit in your vehicle and you can tell me everything I need to know."

"You should know. I'm willing to make a very generous reward if you succeed."

The space she rented for the Vida Escondida venture supplied a fenced-in space and electricity for three modest home trailers, an eighteen wheeler, three RVs and a utility shack for their operational and living needs.

She did not need anyone on the crew to overhear the numbers and the conditions they had to abide by being negotiated before Elise got a chance to soft pedal it to the entire crew in a staff meeting.

"Senor Cuervo, do you have sound dampener technology installed in your vehicle?"

"Ah, yes, yes. Forgive my insensitivity."

The redhead chuckled softly at her companion's discomfort.

"Come on," she said to Elise, "I'll clear out the back seat for you."

Elise recognized her as she followed an incredible set of glutes on the six foot figure. Indeed, the redhead was a top tier fighter in the Sweet who caused a controversial series of deaths, and was disqualified from competition.

Elise didn't follow the sport enough to feel certain of the justification for that ruling, but crew members who did were outraged by the judgement.

As the redhead cleared the backseat, Elise ran a cornea scan. The data stream reset into readable form, and, though the name Annebél Sens Duarte was not a surprise, her Premie Harvest status certainly did.

"You're the fighter, aren't you," Elise said to strike up a conversation.

"Well, I was. Now, I take care of this guy."

Duarte let out a visceral laugh to let her know that it was more complicated than she let on.

Elise slipped in the back seat.

"You have a huge fan base in our little gypsy town."

Duarte slipped into the driver side seat. She grabbed her PA and synced with the Jeep.

"That's good to know but I'll be monitoring them while the two of you talk shop."

Agile as a much younger man, Sachmilli climbed in the passenger side. Elise caught a glimpse of his 1911 beneath his red flannel shirt.

Duarte commanded her attention once more.

"Hey, is there anyone you expect of being a snitch on your team?"

"No. My girl routinely monitors everything. She would have caught it."

Sachmilli and Duarte exchanged glances.

Elise screwed up her face at what their body language implied.

"Fiona is loyal to me and me alone."

"But not to her brother," Senora Duarte questioned.

Elise could not see his motion from below the shoulder but inferred that Sachmilli patted the fighter on her thigh to let her know she was out of line.

"Forget this for now," Sachmilli requested. "It is an aside with little relevance at the moment."

Elise closed her eyes for a moment as she brought her clasped hands to her chin. She had a good idea what their speculation meant.

Duarte did a background check on Elise and her crew before they decided to use her services. As expected.

They likely discovered her involvement with Ùltimos Dìas, and perhaps uncovered a few other things. Did the Cazas keep check on her and report to elements within the organization?

Elise needed to shove the matter aside or else it would effect her judgement while negotiating with Sachmilli.

"This 'generous reward' if I succeed? I'm listening."

"First. My son. He has agreed to be the subject of a very deadly ceremony that the Opium-Eaters perform on their highest ranked adepts. It involves the partial removal of the lungs, and replacement of those segments with a hooka transit.

"The three gentlemen who are overseeing this ceremony all have outstanding warrants. I want you to go to their operation tonight and collect on those bounties."

She thought about the logistics involved. Without a rest period her team would be useless in training tomorrow.

"I'll square you with Tasìa. Let her know your crew is being reassigned for the day. No practice drills tomorrow."

Elise held her tongue, but her artificial eye twitched. 'Reassigned'?

That took some balls!

"Sach," Annebél spoke up, "I know you are use to being the man in charge . . ."

"Ah, shit. Did I get it wrong, again?"

Duarte squinted and gestured with her forefinger and thumb, "just a tad disrespectful."

"My apologies. It's an old sales technique to talk passed the sale. I do it habitually."

His apology was genuine.

"Don't sweat it, Senor. But it is indeed my prerogative when and where my crew gets deployed. Put that to the side, why are you not asking for del Alma-Gris' assistance? Gael-Sebastian was a former member of her crew wasn't he?"

His placid but strong gaze suddenly failed him. He looked away for a moment.

"She will no longer speak to him."

Elise glanced around.

"His condition brings her heartbreak?"

She could tell by Annebél Sens Duarte's momentary disengagement that she had met neither del Alma-Gris nor Gael-Sebastian Cuervo.

"No," Sachmilli stated solemnly. "When Tasìa needed him the most, my son proved to be absolutely useless."

Elise grimaced as she realized that the elder Cuervo was referring to the assault. Apparently, there was much more to it than she felt she needed to know.

"Understood," Elise acknowledged. "So, now your offer."

"Don't misunderstand when I say this - I don't object to your operation, I understand your motivation -," Sachmilli leaned forward, "- I know you are going after Tasìa after the Dimittis take down. Don't ask how I know. I know."

Elise gulped; she realized that she could not deny it.

"So, how does this all tie together," she asked.

"You get my boy back to me and those three jackals either dead or cuffed, I'll pay you the one point two million you would get for her bounty if you don't pursue it."

Elise cocked her head askew.

"She means that much to you?"

He stared out the window with his jowls flexed. It was the first time Elise even noticed them.

"I'm just trying to make things right. I'm the one who insisted that she needed the prenatal treatments."

With her lips pressed tersely together, Elise studied his face.

It was a curious admission on Sachmilli's part.

"What about her crew?"

He chortled with a cynical sneer, "Do with them whatever you want except the Spaniard I sent to protect her, and the other girl, the tech, who doesn't even have an outstanding warrant, they all deserve to die."

Elise nodded, and then offered Sachmilli her hand to shake.

"Alright, I'm in. This is going to be one hell of a busy night."