Perfect Scam

Clarke went to the vending machine, keeping her eyes on the truck the three men were in. It was still parked at the same spot but noone was in it. She also saw that there was no CCTV coverage on that spot. She smirked a little and headed to the truck, keeping an eye out to the men.

The truck was old but definitely well kept, double cab. She could see dried up mud on the tires but none on the truck meaning someone tried to do a quick scrub. When she looked inside, she saw it was surprisingly clean, only thing out of place was a pamphlet which had a white supremacist symbol. She looked around for anyone watching as she started to pick the car. In three seconds, she was in. She disabled the alarm even faster and now she was free to look around.

Cleaning her prints from the handle, she used a handkerchief to look around. She found a .45 in the glove compartment and three magazines. She decided to take it because the Glock she had would be traced to Agent Valentine. The .45 might have committed a crime before but they will not be tempted to find the owner as fast as the Glock's. Looking around more, she did not find anything suspicious so she took hold of the pamphlet.

Apparently they were holding a meeting in Hollywood, California. She smiled as a thought got into her mind. The meeting would be a perfect place to actually hit! White Supremacist groups get a lot of attention these days that everybody is all trying to stop racism. The media will definitely want to uncover who did that and then she would surface and take credit but she won't start been a samaritan and say she did it for someone. Once she was done, she got out of the truck and locked it. Just as she was about to turn, she felt a gun on her head and the sound of the safety been turned off.

"What are you doing, girly?" she heard a gruff voice say. Clarke turned around slowly, wishing the guy was not trigger happy and alert everybody in the motel.

"I thought you guys were familiar. You were going to the "rally". Good to see our ideas are still spreading," she said and showed the man the pamphlet. The man was tall, not as tall as her but definitely tall, lanky, pot bellied, straw haired and weathered. His steel blue eyes were glaring at her green eyes in suspicion.

"I don't care what you are, nobody gets into my truck without my permission," the man growled and Clarke saw he was about to pull the trigger. Moving so fast the man couldn't even comprehend, she had disarmed him in just a fraction of a second and now the gun was on his stomach.

"I am going to ask you questions and depending on your answers, they will determine whether you live or die," she told him. The man tried to disarm her but got a heavy slap that threw him onto the truck. He felt blood in his mouth and when he spit it out saw four of his teeth. "Don't be a hero."

"What answers do you want?" the man asked him.

"First, why were you and your friends looking at us? There's no black girl in there. Are you cops?" she asked.

"We just saw one of us, the girl at the passenger's seat. She is crazy, speaking her mind about Latinos and how they destroyed her father's life. She always talked about gutting one of them, a worker of sorts. No, we are not cops," the man painfully answered.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, the gun digging into his stomach. The man let out an uneasy breath when he felt that.

"No, never seen you in my life," he answered, trying to back away but Clarke got hold of his neck from behind, bringing him closer.

"Good, keep that self preservation kicking, you might live to see tomorrow," she said and let him go. The man sighed in relief as he watched her walking away.

Clarke got back inside the motel room with four cans of Sprite. She found the others already showered and walking around in their bikinis. They were not like her, but they were definitely good looking, especially with low body fat.

"Emilia, took you so long. Head to the showers, we just ordered pizza," Lori told her.

"Thanks," Clarke said and went to the shower. A whole week without running hot water made her feel heavenly as soon as she turned the shower on and the water hit her body. She scrubbed off the grime on her body, now used to having a woman's body unlike before she would hesitate to touch her breasts and guchi. Two minutes of just enjoying herself in the bath, she got out and dried herself up. From her bag, she took out a sports bra and short, still not comfortable with wearing panties or even thongs together with bras. She went back to the girls and found them eating the pizza they ordered.

After dinner, they continued talking for two hours, sometimes asking Clarke about herself which she fabricated as time went on. When they saw how dark it was, they decided to sleep. Sophy and Clarke were to sleep on the same bed. Clarke was quick to sleep but was definitely a light sleeper. She could feel how Sophy was slowly coming to her side until she was practically spooning her. It was a symptom of someone who was so used to sleep with men she couldn't differentiate the difference of someone else sleeping in the same bed with her.

The following day, they woke up early, took a shower, are breakfast from the vending machine and they were off. Clarke noticed the truck was gone and so were the men, presumably. Three hours on the road and they finally reached LA. Clarke had already made a decision to ditch the girls as soon as possible and there was no time like the present.

"Hey, why don't you guys drop me off here," she told them.

"Here? Hell no. This is a dangerous spot, we wouldn't want you getting jumped," Lori said, been the over protective kind.

"I appreciate you guys looking out for me but I need you all to drop me off here. I want to think about what to do and not try to leech off your kindness," Clarke told them. Lori was about to argue more but Jenny put a hand on her hand.

"It's alright Clarke. Thanks for keeping us company this long, we know we might be excess," Jenny told her then signalled Lori to pull over. Lori reluctantly did so and Clarke got off. "Here." Jenny have her a small wad of cash and a card. "If you need any help adjusting just give me a ring and I will come over as soon as possible." Clarke was surprised by their generosity.

"You have my deepest gratitude, all three of you," she thanked them sincerely. Sophy hugged her tightly and Lori gave her her business card; she was a lawyer, apparently.

"If you need something just call me," she added before they drove off. Clarke looked at the cards then the money. She memorized the numbers on the card before throwing them away and kept the money, $300, in her jacket's inner pocket. She then started walking to the city which she could already see from where she was.

Half an hour later, LA invited the most dangerous woman in the US without it even knowing. LA was definitely not what she was expecting. From a man wearing only his boxer shorts and a vest walking his dog as if it is the most natural thing to a woman running away from cops, naked! Everyone was looking at the scenes in front of them with eyes that showed they had seen everything and are not amused.

She decided to look for a place to stay, somewhere that doesn't need an ID or deposit. After asking around, she finally got the place. A building that looked like it would fall over in rubble but she could see people living in it. She got inside the building and met with a fifty years old lady.

"Whatcha want?" she asked then coughed unhealthily.

"I want to rent a room," she answered.

"We definitely have one of those. Do you have cash? We don't take debit," she growled.

"How much?" Clarke asked.

"Fifty bucks a month. You take care of your items if they get stolen we don't replace. There might be water shortages from time to time but the electricity is always on," the wan said.

"Do I pay you or something?"

"I'm the caretaker, of course you pay me. C'mon, I'll take you to the room," the woman said and wobbled to the stairs. She definitely had a bad leg which she was trying to hide. Clarke looked around and saw some bullet holes on the walls and dried blood on one corner. This was definitely a rough area. They reached the second floor and she opened the first door from the stairs. Clarke was surprised the place was well kept and there was even furniture, a tv set, bed, fridge and utensils.

"The owner might come for his things later, he's in prison. Don't worry, you can use them, we have his permission. So, you like?" she asked.

"I like, I definitely like," Clarke said and gave her the fifty bucks. The woman smirked craftily and wobbled away. Clarke put her bag in the bedroom then opened the closet. There were all types of clothes but mostly were in the fashion of a black man. She was glad because she found clothes she didn't have to struggle mentally before wearing. The bed was a double size queen sized. She didn't trust whoever slept on it so she removed the sheets and mattress, planning to buy them the following day. She then went to the kitchen's fridge and looked to see if there was anything edible. It was clean, not even expired milk. It was then she heard someone knocking at the door. She took out her gun and slowly crept to the door. She put the muzzle on the door right where a person's chest might be then opened the door some. She saw an eleven years old African American boy looking at her.

"Can I help you?" she asked, secretly keeping the .45 in her back and hidden with her jacket.

"You know you got suckered, right?" the boy asked her.

"Suckered? How so?" Clarke asked for clarification.

"The guy who lives here, Boyd, might be in prison but this apartment is still be his, always. The gang he runs with lets the old hag bring in people looking for apartments, take the money they paid then throw them out. If I were you, I might pack right away before they come tomorrow morning," the boy told him. Clarke was quite impressed by that scheme. Since the person who will rent this place might become too intimidated to do anything they don't worry about the police, a perfect cash cow.

"Well, thanks for the info. How about you make twenty bucks right now and you tell me where his gang hides out in and the prison this Boyd guy lives in," she said, taking out a twenty dollar bill note and showed it to the kid. He looked at the bill then at her then sighed helplessly and took it.