This one is set kind of early on in the Rollerz set of missions. I wasn't actually expecting to write anything about Troy, but he's kind of a compelling character!
It was almost dark. Kate sat in the car Lin had dropped off for her, watching a group of cars gathered on a grass verge rev their engines. They were pulled up in front of a large white house in the suburbs. It was surrounded by a white picket fence, and lights twinkled gently from its windows. They were just far enough away to not attract attention.
Troy was in the seat next to her, leaning forward, his knees leaning on his elbows and his chin resting in his hands. A cigarette was wedged between two of his fingers.
"I don't like this," he said, at last. "We gotta be careful." he looked over at her, his brow furrowed. "You roll with someone long enough, and soon you start thinking like them."
Kate grimaced. "You done undercover work before?"
"Nah," said Troy, giving an abrupt shake of his head. "Just worried about Lin, is all. The further in you get the harder it is to get out."
She nodded. "Yeah. Bitch has to have balls the size of truck tyres," she said. "Jesus. What happens if they figure her out?"
Troy's frown deepened. "It ain't gonna be pretty." He took a puff of his cigarette. "We move too fast and it'll look bad. They'll get suspicious. Undercover's a long game, and we're playing it like it's a short."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"Whose idea was it to send her in?" she asked, after a while.
"Julius," Troy said. "But he wouldn't have sent her in if she hadn't been up for it."
"You talk to Julius about this?" she asked. "Tell him you think it's too risky?"
Troy laughed humourlessly. "Julius don't exactly take well to criticism. He likes to keep a very tight rein on everything we do. Just a warning for ya."
"Really?" she asked.
"Eh. He'll listen to your input, but when he makes up his mind, the decision's final, believe me. I tried telling him that we shouldn't be getting into all this drug stuff, but he didn't want to hear it."
"Well, how else would we make our money?" asked Kate.
Troy just shrugged.
"Well – have you tried talking to Lin about how you think it's too dangerous?" she asked.
He looked up at her, sidelong. "I think Johnny suits black eyes a lot better than me, don't you?"
She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean," he said, slowly. "That if I try to tell Lin something's too dangerous for her she's not gonna take it well, get it?"
"Oh." Kate slumped back in the driver's seat. "Okay. Yeah, I can see that not going well."
"What did you think I meant?" He was looking at her curiously.
"I don't know," she said. "Nothing. Whatever. What do we know about the Rollerz, anyway?"
"Not much." He fixed his eyes on the gathering of cars in front of them. Men in blue were leaning up against their cars and smoking, girls threading their way through the crowd, laughing. "They got some shady deals goin' on. We don't know hardly anything about their structure. And what gets me is that they don't need the money. Look at these kids and their fuckin' cars." He took a final drag on the cigarette and flicked it out the window.
Kate checked the car's dashboard clock. Almost ten minutes to go before the race began.
"You from Stilwater?" asked Troy.
"Mm," she grunted. "Why?"
"Whereabouts?"
She turned her head to glare at him. "Southern Cross. Why?"
"Just thought you don't seem like a kid that grew up on the streets, you know? You don't talk like that. When you're not swearing, anyway."
"What are you, my grandfather?" she snarled. "What's with the third degree? I'm not fucking grilling you on your fucking backstory, am I?"
"Christ," he said, looking away. "Sorry. Didn't think you'd take it so personal."
"I'm not some fucking rich kid slumming it, okay?" she asked. "Not trying to find myself or see how the poor people live or piss off my dad, okay? You ask everyone this kind of shit?"
He held his hands up defensively. "Okay," he said. "Okay. No more questions. You're the boss."
She turned her head to look forward once more, and pressed a hand to her mouth. She laughed, quietly. "Sorry," she said. "Little stressed. Not really that good of a driver."
"You got a license?" asked Troy.
"N-no," she said. "Think they'll check?"
Troy sighed. "No. It's an illegal street race, after all. Just hoping to get out of this car without the help of the jaws of life."
"I'm not that bad," she said. She watched the moon nudge above the low hills close by. The dashboard clock flicked over to 20:00.
"Alright," she said, and turned the key in the ignition. She took one last look at herself in the rear view mirror to check that her lipstick hadn't smudged.
Next to her, Troy sighed again and buckled his seatbelt.
She smiled as she pulled up next to the group. "So when do we start?" she asked.