The predators in this place aren't going to be able to resist my helpless female image.  But, there is one predator in particular that I am hoping will take notice.  Arturo Martinez, leader of the Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso) terrorist group.  
                          
The bastard, along with all of his homies like to terrorize those who cross their not so shining, sleazy path along the Amazon river, near the Colombian border.  The terrorist group recently kidnapped and murdered twelve foreign aid workers who were attempting to bring medicines to a remote tribe in the jungle.  
                          
Along with kidnapping for ransom and murder, the group's terrorist talents include violence against peasants, drug smuggling, sabotage against American interests in Peru, car bombings and the killing of government officials and police officers.  Although the Shining Path is a decades old group, Arturo Martinez has been leader for the past five years.  
                          
He rarely leaves the jungles along the Amazon, so I had initially planned on pursuing him there.  However, this morning Simon received information that he would be in Lima visiting family.  While scoping out his aunt's house a couple blocks away this afternoon, I offered a neighborhood boy a buck to give me any info he had on the comings and goings.  
                          
Little punk held out for more.  
                          
As I held out the dollar, I asked him in Spanish, "Do you know the people who live at that house?"  I pointed to the house with the faded pink paint and white door.  Well, at least it was better than the orange house down the street.  
                          
Clever little brat replied, "Not for a dollar, I don't."
                          
I pulled another dollar out of my pocket, "How about for two?"
                          
He just shook his head, pissing me off.  I added a quarter to the growing pile of money that I held in the palm of one hand, "How about I throw in a nice shiny quarter?"
                          
He scoffed and looked offended at my suggestion.  Jackson, who was standing behind me at the time, immaturely laughed at the kid who was besting me.  
                          
I narrowed my eyes and looked at him more closely, "How old are you?"
                          
The kid crossed his arms over his shoulders and puffed up his puny chest, "Seven and a half."
                          
"Ten American dollars.  That's my final offer." I looked down at him in what was supposed to be an intimidating way.  
                          
It didn't faze the brat, "Twenty American dollars and that necklace you are wearing for my mama."
                          
So, um yeah, a seven and a half year old Peruvian boy made me lose my cool, "Cabron!" I yelled and picked him up by his shirt.  "Your parents should send you to work in a soccer ball factory."
                          
That's when Jackson disengaged my fingers from the kid's faded Ninja Turtles t-shirt and set the kid back down on his dirty bare feet.  Jackson was only laughing harder.  I felt the unusual occurrence of guilt because the kid finally looked intimidated and scared.
                          
He freely gave the information I sought.  Turns out that his best friend was Arturo Martinez's youngest cousin and he was able to overhear the grown-ups conversation earlier that day about going to the bar.  The kid made out good and got forty dollars and my necklace out of the deal.  My guilt was assuaged.
                          
So, that's why I happen to be around the corner from this run-down bar, planning the death of Arturo Martinez.  Why am I always killing men while they're at bars and clubs?  I shrug off the thought.  Something to think about later.  
                          
"I still think that I should go in with you," Jackson whispers.  
                          
I turn my head back to look at him, "Having a big strong man with me would ruin the helpless female image.  You can just hang outside the door and listen for trouble."