Marcus Allenwood parked his black SUV at the curb near the unsightly little bar in North Hollywood. He turned off the engine and tilted his head on the headrest for a moment. The gang had a tough night ahead and the man was apprehensive. But he knew he had to keep calm and stay strong, something that he was sure their leader was struggling to master despite her cool outward appearance.

Putting the key out of the ignition, Marcus opened the door and climbed out of the driver seat. He looked around and noticed Bette’s Lexus convertible standing a few cars ahead with its top down. At that the man frowned. Bette had always brought the top up when leaving the car for a long time, especially in the neighborhoods as unsafe as this one. Marcus shook his head and trod in the direction of the bar entry. He walked through the dim-lighted hallway, ignoring the prying look he was receiving from the security guard. Once inside, Marcus’s eyes began to search for a glimpse of dark wavy hair. When the target was detected, the man started to make his way toward the farthest side of the premises, and as he drew closer, the slouching figure at the bar counter was becoming more and more apparent. A lonesome glass of liquor stood in front of the brunette, almost empty. Marcus took note of Bette’s sluggish hand movements as she was bringing her cigarette to her mouth, and wondered how many of those glasses had she had already.

”You wanna refill?” Marcus heard the barman ask her.

”No,” he brushed him off before Bette would answer, ”she’s good, thanks.”

The brunette didn’t bother to turn around and acknowledge her partner. She sat unmoving, breathing out the cigarette smoke languidly.

Marcus seated himself on the stool next to Bette and watched her in silence. When she made no attempt to look at him, the man put his broad hand on her back and shook her just a bit as if giving encouragement. ”It’s time, girl,” he spoke quietly. ”They’re waiting for us.”

Bette squinted as she inhaled nicotine vapor into her lungs and then blew it out. Slowly and deliberately she stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, drained her glass in one swallow and swiveled in the bar stool to stand up. Marcus followed the lead straight away, coming after the withdrawn brunette across the hall to the outside.