The concrete roof of the ruined hotel crackled under shifting boots as Cheshire crouched beside the edge, night wind brushing back strands of her black hair. Below, cartel soldiers moved in their usual sloppy formations, easy targets.

Her partner, “Cain,,” knelt beside her, adjusting the scope on his rifle. He was sharp, quiet, efficient, too efficient and a very good shot. She’d liked him, surprisingly. For a few jobs, even trusted him. But she had found his secondary phone last night with all the text that confirmed her suspicion. Government plant. Deep cover. Turning her in. Cain probably wasn't even his name.

She gave him a sideways glance. He didn't seem to know that she knew. So she could continue playing this pretending game of their's. "Soo... where were you last night?"