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A trouble maker with a cocky smile
He spins his gun around his finger and sheaths it
Nothing fazes him
Except when the money disappears
One of the fab five gone with the contents of the safe
One trying to fix the destruction that vixen left
Two more playing chess in the corner
The man returns to the couch lamenting the lack of food
A call, a tip on a job, and a codename
That name
The man snaps to attention as though woken from a dream
Forgetting the bitch, and the money she stole,
He moves like lightening
He acts with purpose
Maybe this time he can save her