65

                                    

                                          
NADINE
Boxes stuffed full are hauled out by men cladded in plain jeans and t-shirts. The cartons are full of cannabis tied in plastic wraps. They've been tasked with transferring it all to a different location, somewhere remote and away from the authorities. 
The leader of the bunch barks a command to one of his four men before turning to his fifth. Except this is no man, but a girl who has been tasked with a job she has little interest in. Thick, curly hair has been tied behind, along with skin the color of cinnamon. 
She's in a conversation over the phone that seems to be proving more stressful than the mission. She spouts words in English and Spanish - insults, mainly - and watches Beefsteak stare at her through it all. He's a buff man with way too many tattoos on his body, and so she thought it wise to dub him so. But from the way Beefsteak eyes her, she can tell he's not in a good mood. Not that that's any of her business.
The phone call finally comes to an end. Beefsteak motions towards her direction, but doesn't look at her.
"You. Grab the bag." He points at a sack full of more cannabis. 
"My name is Nadine. Not 'You'."
Beefsteak pauses and turns to her. This is not the attitude he should be receiving as their commander. But Nadine hardly cares. He's just a foot soldier who was put in charge of this one-time mission. He has no other authority. 
He gets all close and personal and stands in front of Nadine's face. She's shorter than he is, smaller as well. He's trying to use this as some intimidation tactic. "Watch that fucking mouth of yours before I rip if off, girlie."
Nadine just stares at him, thinking. Surely, he couldn't be doing what she thinks he's trying to do. Threaten her. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
Beefsteak clearly does not like her tone. He grabs her by her neck. "I told you to watch that fucking-" He doesn't finish, because Nadine slides a dagger right into his gut and leaves it lodged.
There goes comrade-turned-enemy number one. Before the rest of the group think to crucify her for this atrocity, she seeks them out first. Once they all reenter the warehouse, Nadine puts a bullet each in their heads. They would have done the same if given the chance. Too bad it ended this way. 
Nadine surveys the bodies. She nudges Beefsteak's corpse to make sure he's dead. A useless attempt, considering there's a knife sticking out of his gut. But she does so anyway.
"Well, shit." Nadine sighs. This was not how things were supposed to go. Does this count as a mission failed?
"I see you haven't changed."
Nadine's gun goes up at the sound of the new visitor, but stops when she realizes who it is.
"Dami?"
Dami flashes a smile. "It's been a wh-"
Nadine aims her gun at her and pulls the trigger. But the bullet wasn't intended for Dami. It flies past her head by a mere inch and hits the last of Beefsteak's men who only just sauntered into the warehouse. 
Dami turns to see the bloodied man before looking back at Nadine. "I thought you were trying to kill me again."
Nadine sighs. "Ay Dios mío, I told you those days were over a long time ago."
"Yeah? What about that time when we were on a mission in Florida and you stabbed me?"
"My hand slipped. It was an accident."
Damj points an accusing finger. "Then why were you smiling?"
Nadine says nothing. She thinks up an excuse to give, but can't seem to find one. "Okay, fine. But I don't actually want to kill you anymore. That was all before then."