When you're a spy, a lot of things stop surprising you. The Russian mob boss who says you're friends suddenly tries to kill you, your mom is okay with you hiding mysterious strangers in her garage, and of course, people keep trying to kill you. And there are certain things you can do to deal with these things, like keeping a gun on you at all time and practising dodging bullets and phone calls. But there's basically nothing you can do when you sort-of-sometimes-depends-on-the-day-ex-girlfriend tells you that she's become a whore. That one can surprise you every time.

"Can you say that again for me? I must have water in my ears or something, maybe a yogurt overdose, because I thought you just said you got a job as a whore!" Fi rolled her eyes at my "hysteria", as she called it. I preferred to call it "rational reaction".

"Michael, calm down. I'm not going to actually sleep with any of those toads that troll for barely legal girls with tramp stamps. I'll just work my way into Jones' little business, if it can even be called that, and then beat the living hell out of him. Then I rescue Clara. There, job done." Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"No Fi, no assassinations. We just need to get Clara and send her and Kim on a bus to Phoenix or somewhere several states away. I'm sure Seattle's lovely this time of year. Besides, if we take out Jones, his number two guy will just step up and keep running the show. We can either go in and plan a long, messy takedown, or, and I'm a big fan of this other option, we can get Clara and go. This is a big organization they're running here, they won't miss one girl when they have another hundred that can do the exact same thing. Sam said he knows where Jones is working and he'll request Clara and grab her and bring her back here." She pouted and I could see all the explosions that weren't going to happen running through her head.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but we won't need any C4 for this job. We might not even need any guns, although I know Sam's going to bring one anyway." Fi looked at me like I was a stupid child that needed a smack. "Michael, please. There is always a need for C4."

Over on the mattress, Kim had started coughing and I grabbed a yogurt and sat next to her on the bed. "Hey kid. How do you feel?" She looked at me with the same look Fi had given me only moments ago. "Like I just got shot in the leg. Gimme that yogurt. Or a Vicodin, I'm not choosy." Fi and I exchanged a glance.

Fi walked over to Kim and smiled like a mother to a guilty child. "Kim, are you not telling us something, darling? Because the second you woke up, you asked Michael for about ten pills that I haven't even heard of. Is there something we should know about?" For all her ball busting attitude, Fi knows how to butter people up and make them feel like they to tell her whatever it is she needs to know. I prefer the tried and true interrogation method with potential assault, but that doesn't always go over so well with suburban teenagers recovering from multiple gunshot wounds with a sister that was just kidnapped. Kim looked over nervously from me to Fi and then back down at her leg.

"A few years ago, I was in the hospital because I broke my arm in three places. It took a long time to heal and they gave me a ton of morphine for the pain. Now I just get a little... tense if I don't have something." Great. So the client, who bled all over my sheets, is actually a drug addict. My first thought was to set her up with Sugar, but then I remembered the reason she came to Sam for help in the first place. So then my second instinct was to just kick her out and slam the door.

"You were the one that sent your sister out to get money for your fix. And when she didn't come home, you did your own deals, which is how you got the money that Sam told me about. And now she's in deep with some pimp because of you and you want our help. She's probably been working for Jones for months before you got desperate enough to look for her. Because getting a buzz is more important to you than your own sister." Kim started crying again. I didn't give a damn about how she felt, but Fi coughed and when I turned around, she glared at me and nodded towards the balcony.

"Michael, this girl is not some shady character that sold her sister out for a good time. She's in trouble and feels bad about it. So she's a drug addict, so is half the city of Miami. You helped Sugar and he was definitely more of a bastard than Kim. So you be nice and apologize for what you said, you understand?" And she marched back inside and started talking to Kim in a low, steady voice. I waited out on the balcony till Fi had stopped talking and went inside to follow orders.

"Kim, I owe you an apology. I'm sorry about what I said before. I know you weren't trying to get your sister in trouble and that you really want to help her. So I'm gonna help you, but you have to help yourself and get clean. Now tomorrow, we're gonna try to get Clara back, so I need you to show me what she looks like so we can find the right girl. You got a picture of her or something?" Kim sniffed and pointed over to her bag on the floor.

Fi rummaged through it and pulled out a wallet sized picture of another redhead that vaguely resembled Kim. Sam was right; Clara was a knockout, even by Miami standards. Imagine Eva Longoria and Angelina Jolie hooked up and then had a baby with Megan Fox. With red hair. Fi looked over to me and I realized(too late, of course) that I was actually looking stunned by a picture. I yawned, trying to cover, but I could tell Fi didn't buy it for a second. She waved the picture towards Kim.

"So this is Clara?" Kim nodded and sat up slowly. "Clara was always the pretty one and I was the bookish one. Everyone would make that face, especially your friend Sam. I thought his jaw might fall off." Fi crossed her arms. "How predictable. Michael, I think Kim would be better off staying at your mom's house, far away from Jones' guys and anyone that might've followed Sam's car back from the shooting. And less likely for future weasels like Strickler to pay you visits and shooting her to clear up your schedule."

I nodded. That seemed sensible, plus my mom would probably have painkillers that Kim could actually use. Even prescription popping druggies need some medication when they take a few bullets. Who knows, maybe a parental figure would be good for Kim(but after all the good it did for me, I'm not holding my breath). I threw the keys of the Charger to Fi and picked up Kim and carried her down the steps. If Mom still had Dad's old wheelchair, which she made me scrub for an hour after I used it to kidnap Victor("Because I don't know what kind of things you do with my stuff, running around with guns and all that"), we could let Kim move around the house, but also confine her from following us. And if you've ever been stalked by a guilt-ridden teen, you know it's something you want to avoid.

While Fi dropped Kim off, I decided to call Sam and tell him that he wouldn't get to play 'aging john trolling for amazingly beautiful girl' since Fi had made a career switch. He took it well.

"Mikey, you little girlfriend has potentially ruined my night of boozing with a gorgeous girl and she is gonna have to make it up to me." I winced and Sam caught the slip. "Okay, definitely not like that. But what're we gonna do now? Clara's smoking. Fi's smoking, and they're gonna be getting a lot of customers unless we do something to intervene, which we're sort of obligated to do, for the benefit of the greater Miami male population. We can't just let Fi become a skank, she'd break the neck of any bastard that was dumb enough to try. I have an idea, but it's a bit...out there, if you wanna hear it." I rubbed my neck subconsciously and waited for Sam to explain the plan, when I realized I had already thought of it myself and discarded it because it was too terrible to think about.

Oh no. Oh no, Sam don't say it, don't say it's the only option left. Please Sam. Please. "Mike, I think we're gonna both have to go undercover for this. I get Clara and you get Fi. It's the only option that I can really see having a chance in hell. Normally, I'd just tell Fi to quit, but we can't just pass on this opportunity. How soon do you wanna do this?" Sam, you bastard.

I tried to suppress how pissed I was at both Fi and Sam, her for getting us into this mess, and Sam for proving that the only option was to whore Fi out, literally. "We really need to do this tonight. If Jones makes Fi work, we need to make sure that she only gets one customer so she can't tear out anyone's throat."

I didn't mention the fact that I would rather drop dead than leave Fi in a sleazy hooker gig for more than one night.

Sam must enjoy screwing me over. "I'm sorry Mike, I really can't make it tonight. I have this big meeting with the feds, something about my pension checks and if I don't show, they'll start investigating me, which means something on you too buddy. Would tomorrow be okay?"

About as okay as I'd be joining a cult. "Sure Sam, I understand. So we need to find a guy for Fi, someone that looks believable but can be trusted not to actually do something. How many guys do we know?"

"Barry?"

"He'd actually do it. Or at least try."

"Nate?"

"Nate would try to rip off Jones at the first shot, and I am not getting my brother involved in this. Just consider the kind of hell we'd be in if my mom found out we sent Nate into a prostitution ring."

"Seymour, you remember, the arms dealer?"

I paused and waited for Sam to work that out himself. "Never mind, it would be better to let Nate go. What about that ex-boyfriend, the nice guy with the ambulance? The soup guy...Campbell. He looks a little too clean to be trolling for whores, but I'm sure we could tell him what to do, maybe set him up with a headset and just spoon feed him all the way."

"Sam, we are not going to send a mostly normal guy into to be our fall guy. If Jones finds out that we're ripping him off, he could end up dead." And while I personally wouldn't be too troubled with that, dealing with dead body can be a real pain in the ass.

I felt a stab above my eye. There was that headache again. "Mike, why don't you call Fi and just see if she knows anyone? I have to get ready for my meeting, but keep me posted." I closed my phone and started dialling Fi's number when she walked through the door.

"Well, your mom's getting Kim settled into your old room and I told her to hide all of her medication in the closet. So have you come up with a plan for tonight, because I'm really looking forward to starting my new job." She smiled and I wished that she could be normal and have a job like a lawyer or something. But no, with Fi, there only jobs are gun runner, bomb cooker, or pseudo-whore.

"Fi, we need someone to be your 'client' for tonight. I know you could handle having a real customer, but to keep the body count low, let's just find some stooge to hire you will I get Clara. Do you know anybody that would look convincing?" She thought about it for a few minutes and then this big beautiful smile lit up her face and, even before she said it, I knew what she was thinking. Because it had been in the back of my mind as well.

"Michael, why don't you hire me and Clara at the same time?"