"Goddamn girl you fine as a motherfucker."

That was the first thing that her new contact, Lamar Davis, said to her.

It was an unpleasant, though not uncommon, first reaction to her. No matter where you go in the world, men love beautiful women. It was something she used to her advantage, whenever possible.

It was also a clear sign that she was dealing with an amateur.

Wait, he brought a rose, she couldn't decide if that was sad or adorable, a little of both most likely.

"I mean that like not like in a stalker type way or nothing."

She arched one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows, just enough to make him feel a little more uncomfortable. It took every bit of her not to giggle.

"I'm just, I'm just saying like, you do look good." He smiled sheepishly and held out the rose for her.

He reminded her of the kid brother of one of her friends when she was in high school, he'd been a sixth grader when she was a junior. He'd eventually worked up the courage to ask her out, she'd let him down as gently as she could.

Probably best to do the same here, she thought.

She took the rose, held it up to her face, and inhaled deeply. It was clearly from a florist, making her feel worse for having to let him down, but still better than leading him on.

She offered him a small, carefully crafted, smile. It was equal parts sad and reassuring at the same time then handed the rose back to him.

"I'm sorry Lamar, but I can't take this. It's not that you don't seem like a sweet guy, but you have one part too many, if you get what I mean."

He took the flower and looked confused, she was going to have to spell it out for him. She scanned the crowd around the terminal exit, quickly picking out the person she was looking for and catching their eye.

She blew Lily a kiss, earning her a mischievous smirk in return. Lamar followed her gaze to the attractive flight attendant.

"Ohh, my bad, it's like that." She nodded as the realization dawned on him.

Yep, just like a sixth grader, she thought.

"Fuck it, that's neither here nor there." He tossed the rose away, moving quickly to salvage his wounded pride.

"Despite the rejection, I'm still going to help you get settled in, baby."

She slid into the passenger seat and buckled in, "Thanks for this by the way, just needed a change of scenery from Liberty, and you're the only guy here that I know."

Technically true, she didn't know anyone else, but she knew of most of the major players.

"No prob, you might not be the flowers kind of girl, but I got something else for you." Lamar reached under his seat to retrieve something.

If he pulls out anything sex related, I'm finding another contact, she thought. Lamar seemed likable enough, but even Aliza had her limits.

"Pah-yow" he produced a pistol and offered it to her. It took everything she had not to break his hand.

What the fuck is wrong with this person, she immediately snatched the gun away from him and tucked it away in her purse, out of sight.

"Welcome to Los Santos, untraceable." He was smiling when he said it. How is this person not in prison right now?

Ok Aliza, she told herself, you've dealt with amateurs before. He knows people in the city, he's an asset, just like any other. You've just got to manage him.

"Lamar, I want to be really clear on this, never, and I mean never hand a gun to anyone like that, ever again. Pass the gun to the person in a discreet motion, hold it by the barrel with the grip facing the person you're giving it to." She made her voice as stern as she could. Dealing with amateur assets was a lot like being a kindergarten teacher, you kept an eye on them, you cleaned up their messes, and you tried to keep them from dying.

"Ah, alright, my bad, okay let's go." With that, he looked away, and pulled off into the street.

"So tell me about LS, you always mentioned business during our sessions." She was referring to when he had been a client of hers during her camming days. Lamar would spend the entire session bragging about jobs he pulled. Most of it was just that, bragging, but she'd checked him out. He was heavily involved in the local gang scene.

"Say baby, it's a gang of opportunities in Los Santos." He was blushing at the mention of his previous interactions with her. Good, he was off balance.

"I mean, if you got the nuts… or the… you know." Does he even think before he speaks, Aliza wondered.

"Please, call me Aliza." She put a little edge in her voice to let him know that it wasn't optional.

"Oh yeah, Aliza, yeah. Your boy know people all over the city."

"Like my boy Hao, he, like literally the best mechanic in town." Mechanic, she mentally ticked it off of the list of contacts she needed in the city.

"And my boy Simeon, best bullshit artist in town." Useless, she thought.

"Or my boy G, or anyone from the families, you straight ba-Aliza." Good, he's learning, might as well toss him a bone, she thought. She pulled off the baggy sweatshirt, and Lamar's eyes immediately started bouncing between the road and her breasts.

"So where… uh… where am I going? You never told me where I'm, like, supposed to take you."

"Oh I don't know, what would you normally do on a night like this?"

"Uh.. my boy Hao's got a little race going… I mean if you into that." Illegal street race, not exactly what she had in mind, but, why not? It was as good a place to start as any other.

"Works for me," Lamar nodded and turned his attention to the radio. The rest of the ride passed with him singing, badly, along to some rap song while she looked out the window, checking out her new home.

Finally they pulled into a parking lot filled with cars, scantily clad women, testosterone fueled men. This, she knew how to deal with. The difference between an operative and a criminal wasn't as wide a margin as most would think, operatives were in it for the flag, criminals were in it for the cash, but they both did things in the dark that the local law enforcement didn't approve of. She knew this world, she knew how it worked, and most importantly, she knew how to make it work for her.

"Lamar, where'd a dumbass like you get a girl like that?" The source of the voice was an Asian man leaning against an orange sports car. His tattoos said gangbanger, his car said racer, and his movements said martial artist.

"She's a frie-" She cut him off as she got out of the car.

"I'm someone you should pay attention to." She went into full on femme fatale mode, swaying her hips ever so slightly as she walked, predatory grin splitting her face, hungry look in her eyes.

At this level it was all about ego, respect, looks. You were either a predator or prey, and what people thought of you mattered.

"And why's tha…a…at?" The man's composure came crumbling down as her V-neck tee shirt hit the asphalt.

Nothing threw a man off quite like a topless woman, she let down her hair and shook it out. A little dramatic, but from the reactions she caught in her periphery vision, it had the desired effect.

"Because I'm a player, because I'm incredibly good. And because I'm here to bet." His eyes were fixed firmly on her breasts, just the way she wanted it. When doing business, it was always better to have the other person's attention focused on something else, her mentor used a large opal ring to mesmerize the people he dealt with, she found her breasts to be just as effective.

"And what kind of bet do you have in mind?"

"I race the best guy here, someone here puts up their car, one I want, and if I win, it's mine." Confidence, that was the real key to situations like this. If you believed you could back up every word you said, so would they.

"Oh yeah, I'm the best here honey, so what happens when you lose?" Bravado, exactly what she was expecting. Street racing attracted a certain type, and if you wanted to get that person's respect, you had to show the bravado to, and more importantly, you had to show the skills to back it up.

She stepped in close, cupped his chin, and brought his gaze up to meet her eyes.

"If you win, you get ten grand, and the guy who puts up the car, well he gets to take me home tonight."

She let go of him and took a step back, the sudden violation of the racer's personal space combined with the intimate contact got the desired effect. He seemed a little shell shocked for a moment, then regained his composure and went to announce the wager.

She caught Lamar in her peripheral vision, he looked worried. It was actually kind of sweet.

"Uh… Aliza, like you sure you wanna do this, racing… it ain't like the movies. You kinda, like, you need some skills that you don't got, you dig?"

"Lamar, it's very sweet of you to worry, but there are a lot of things you don't know about me. You're going to find out a few of those things tonight. But to save time, just follow my lead." She didn't turn around, she just kept scanning the crowd, looking for reactions to her wager.

"Yeah… uh, I mean, sure I got your back."

Point proven, she thought, one of the things she'd learned from their sessions was that despite all of his talk, Lamar was more of a follower than a leader. Put a more dominant figure in front of him and he'd follow like a dog on a leash.

The racer finally returned.

"Hey Hao, be straight with this girl, you dig?" Hao gave Lamar an odd look for a second, but then returned his attention to Aliza.

"Ok," he said, "I've got a couple of takers."

He pointed to a hispanic man leaning on a black muscle car, "Horatio Reyes, the car's a Dukes, he's a Madrazo cartel enforcer. They're big on machismo, honesty, and all that bull, so he won't back out on the deal, Madrazo would kill him for it."

Then he pointed to an bald Asian man standing next to a small red sports car, "One of my buddies, Wei Young, car jacker for Kkangpae, good guy. His cars a suped up Kuruma."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "Anyone else?"

He sighed and pointed to a, flamboyantly dressed, white man standing next to a car she actually recognized. An all-black Pegassi Osiris, she knew she had to have it.

"Mark Ashford, tries to get people to call him 'Speed', He's a trust fund douchebag who's seen Fast and Furious a few too many times. His car's an Osiris, I wouldn't go with him though, he's got a nasty habit of backing out on bets when he loses."

"I want his car."

"I'm just saying, he always screws people over and gets his bitch, Joey, to beat the shit out of anyone who makes trouble over it." Hao pointed to a rather large man standing near Mark.

"How good is he?"

"Fights like a bull in a china shop, throws all his weight at whoever he's hitting."

Aliza nodded, big, but unskilled, "I can take him."

"Your problem, here, take this." He held out a set of keys for her.

"They're for the blue Buffalo over there, I don't want people saying that the only reason I beat you was cause you were driving Lamar's shitty ass car. Race course will be uploaded on the GPS."

"Thanks, now let's get to it, shall we?"

This'll be fun, she thought.

…

"That was fun." She tossed Hao the keys as she stepped out of her borrowed car.

"How the fuck did you manage that? I fuckin' had you , then you pulled that shit at the… seriously how in the hell did you pull that?"

The race had, for the most part, gone as everyone had expected, other than the fact that she'd won, of course. The Buffalo she'd been loaned was good, but Hao had built his car to race. She'd stayed in second most of the race, close on his heels, but never passing. Then during the last turn, she'd pulled a pit maneuver on his car, sending him spinning out. She'd crossed the finish line just as he'd managed to get control of his car again.

"Beginner's luck, I guess." And training in advanced combat driving.

"Well, that was some impressive shit, you've gotta give me another shot. I'll even put my car on the line this time." He was impressed, as she'd expected him to be. A good racer knew not to get worked up about a fair loss.

"Damn girl, I thought you… I mean I didn't… I knew you'd win, give me a tongue kiss."

She gave Lamar a stern look, backing him down. "cool your jets Lamar, I'm still gay. Toss me the sweatshirt that I left in your car."

He handed it to her, she tossed it over her shoulder, and looked back at Hao. "Sorry, not tonight, but give me your number, I'll be in touch." He rattled off the numbers and she inputted them into her phone, but her attention was on the man approaching them.

Mark Ashford was tall, built like a runner, and dressed like an eighties action movie wannabe. The man behind him was large, muscular, and covered in tattoos.

"Interesting race." He spoke around the toothpick he was chewing on and pulled his sunglasses down on his nose when he talked.

Masculinity issues, probably combined with abandonment issues. She didn't need her psychology degree to diagnose this stereotypical jackass.

"The most interesting part was when I won. Keys please?" she held out her hand, though she was fairly sure it wasn't going to be that simple.

"Yeah… no, sorry honey, but you hustled me. I don't like being cheated, but don't worry baby, I'll give you the ride of a lifetime tonight."

Called it.

"You're adorable." She cupped his face in her hands, he just smiled at her, confident in his irresistibility. She pulled his head forward, as if moving in for a passionate kiss. He smiled, closed his eyes, and puckered his lips.

Then she yanked his head down and brought her knee up, smashing it into his face, then repeated the process with her other knee. The bodyguard moved to grab her, but she spun the thoroughly dazed Ashford around and shoved him at Joey with a hard kick to the back.

The bodyguard caught the careening Ashford. Using this distraction, Aliza stepped around him and sent a low sidekick into the side of his knee. She followed it up with a hard punch to one of the man's kidneys, then a follow-up punch to the other kidney. Her coup de gras came in the form of her grabbing the man's head with a double eye gouge and yanking back.

She sidestepped out of the way of the collapsing tangle of men and watched them hit the asphalt.

The entire fight had taken less than a minute. She reached into the unconscious Ashford's jacket and pulled out his key fob and his wallet. She removed all of the cash in the wallet and pocketed the fob.

"Goddamn girl… How'd you…. Who the fuck are you, a closet Navy Seal commando or some shit?"

"Something like that," she tossed the money from the wallet to Hao. "Here, for your trouble."

He took the money and nodded, "Swing by Los Santos Customs sometime, I'll hook your new ride up with some serious upgrades."

As he left, she pulled her sweatshirt on, no point in giving everyone a view anymore.

"Lamar, grab my purse out of your car and meet me by my new car."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

The smile that spread across her face as she headed to her new Osiris couldn't be more genuine. She had a very nice new car, a sure-to-be growing reputation, and a new contact. Things were going even better than expected.

"Here you go." Lamar was standing behind her, holding her purse out for her.

"Thank you Lamar." He's got potential, she thought, he's not all that smart, but he's a nice enough guy and he has one virtue that so many assets lack, he does what he's told.

"So what's next?" And he's already figured out who's in charge, that was an even more pleasant surprise. With a little work, she was sure that she could turn him into a good asset.

"I don't know, what do you want to do?" Always let them assume that they're the ones in control, asset cultivation 101.

"Well, I don't know if this is your kind of deal, but my boy G texted me saying he needs somebody low key to hocus pocus some shit, you feel me?"

"What exactly does he need?" One thing that was going to have to change though was the vocabulary, she was fluent in seven languages, passable in three, ghetto slang wasn't one of them.

"It's a big exchange of merchandise going down, the Vagos and the Ball-eaters have squashed their little, uh… 'cultural differences', or what the fuck ever." Ahh, drug deal, well, she said she wanted something more exciting than playing call girl to the rich and famous.

"Send me the deal's location and where to make the drop."

"Alright, I'll text you my boy, G's address. Don't even trip, he straight." She watched as Lamar headed for his car.

"You know we got you," he yelled just before closing his car door and driving off.

She waved as he left, he had potential, but he had a long way to go before she'd consider him anything close to an equal.

She pulled open the gull-wing door and slipped into her new car.

Hmm, Italian leather, the interior was fairly similar to the last Osiris that she'd been in, dark leather, lots of gauges, touch screen dashboard, the usual assortment for a two million dollar sports car.

While she waited for her phone to sync with the car's systems, she set about searching the various compartments.

Condoms, a few bundles of cash, a nine millimeter pistol, cologne, a Rolex, and a combat knife.

Her phone chirped, telling her that the car had finally synched with her phone. The location of the deal popped up on her heads up display.

Time to get down to business. Elation coursed through her as the car purred to life. It only grew as she sped off into the streets.

The Osiris handled like a dream, it took all of her self-control to keep it below the speed limit and stop when she was supposed to. But the SOP for this sort of thing was as basic as it got, when committing big crimes, you had to be careful to avoid the small crimes. More criminals and operatives were caught because of traffic stops than any other reason.

She contented herself with the knowledge that once she'd gotten settled in, she'd take it for a drive on one of the scenic highways Los Santos was famous for. Then she could really see what it could do.

She made two stops on the way. One was a hardware store where she bought some gum and shoplifted a box of rubber gloves and some plastic bags. The other was to a SubUrban where she changed into a one-size-too-small crop top and short shorts that covered only slightly more than the average set of bikini bottoms. The gleaming skyscrapers of downtown morphed into low income housing and industrial complexes.

The drug deal was supposed to be taking place in an alley underneath an overpass, she parked the car a few blocks away

She stepped out of her car and tucked the combat knife and a pair of rubber gloves in her purse.

Show time.

She covered the last few blocks on foot, just another hooker out looking for a john. Then she spotted a Hispanic man that had to be the lookout.

She scanned her surroundings to ensure the area was clear of noncombatants that could get caught in the crossfire.

Or testify against her as the case may be.

The area was clear, the gangs must have made sure that no one would be around for their meeting.

Suited her purposes.

The rubber gloves went on and the combat knife came out of her purse and she started her approach. She held the knife in a reverse grip, the blade hidden behind her forearm.

"Hey big boy, got a minute." She affected a SoCal accent, arched her back a little to emphasize her breasts, and gave him what a lot of guys would call a 'come and get me' grin.

It elicited the intended response, "For a girl like you, I got a lot more than a minute."

Just as she'd expected, he started toward her. She remained where she was, knife ready.

Closer…

Closer…

"So how much this gonna cost me?" Damn it! he'd stopped just a bit out of her reach.

"Nothing at all, the Ballas are footing the bill on this one." She took one step forward.

"Why they doin' that?" he was growing suspicious, she needed to kill him quick and quiet.

"They said you guys are engaging in a business transaction, I'm the champagne to be popped to celebrate. Now close your eyes, and enjoy."

Dear god, the cheesy lines she was spewing made her want to shoot herself, but it worked. The Vago closed his eyes and started undoing his pants.

She slipped behind him, and in smooth motion she covered his mouth with one hand and jammed the knife into the back of his skull. His body went stiff for a moment, then limp. She gently dropped it to the ground.

She slipped into the alley, another lookout was standing a short way in. she kept her hooker cover, got into range, and ran the blade up, under his jaw, into his brain, killing him instantly. Once again she quickly caught the body and brought it quietly to the ground.

She moved into a position behind a crate to get a good look at the deal.

Five men, two Ballas, three Vagos, likely with one more person at the other end of the alley as lookout. She ran the calculations in her head. Within a minute, she had her plan.

She pulled the pistol from her purse, she estimated that she had about seven seconds from the first shot.

She peeked over the barrel and lined up her first target. With his head in her sights, she squeezed the trigger.

The Vagos buyer dropped, immediately all four remaining men went for their guns.

One.

Her next target went down, one of the Vagos bodyguards.

Two.

The balla bodyguard spun in her direction and started to bring his gun up, a bullet caught him between the eyes before he could even take aim.

Three.

The lookout came running in, weapon drawn. Seeing his dead Vagos comrades, his gun fell on the remaining Balla.

Four.

The remaining Vagos bodyguard was her next victim. The Balla buyer pointed in her direction and yelled.

Five.

She took advantage of the lookout's confusion to drop the remaining buyer.

Six.

The lookout scanned the area, but her shot found his head before he found her.

Seven.

She let out a long sigh, it had been a long time since she'd done this sort of thing, and if she was honest with herself, she'd been nervous as hell about it.

She'd kept as current on her training as she could in Liberty. Firing range for shooting, MMA for hand to hand combat, and her job made sure she kept up on her ability to read people.

But anyone worth a damn in the business knew that no matter how hard you train, nothing substitutes the real thing.

All their weapons, her brass, and the contents of their wallets were dumped into different plastic bags. The drugs went into a different plastic bag then into her purse.

She made sure to do a heat run on the way back to her car, taking a long circuitous route full of random turns and backtracking to make sure no one followed her.

She stopped at three different canals and tossed a bag into each, before heading to Gerald's place.

It was a lot of work, but it was an SOP that made sure that it would never trace back to her.

Gerald's place was a small apartment complex with a central courtyard. Considering the gang members openly carrying weapons inside the perimeter, she was willing to bet that either he owned the building, or another member of the 'Families' did. It wasn't all that different from any other drug lord's compound really, be it Somalia, Afghanistan, or Los Santos, they were all secure buildings with plenty of armed security.

The security waved her through, Lamar was waiting for her in the courtyard.

"Hey G, come out here man!" he gestured to a door.

"What up do-uh, Aliza, how you doing," he held out his fist, she returned it with a smile, had to give him some positive reinforcement.

A short African American man wearing a fedora stepped out of an apartment door. She noticed the guards taking a firmer grip on their weapons as he sized her up.

Finally he pulled his hat on a little tighter, and the guards' hands came off of their weapons.

"Well goddamn, you antisocial mot-…" She raised a hand, cutting him off. He was figuring out the dynamics of their new relationship rather quickly.

"Nice signal, very subtle, let me guess, the hat comes off, we wouldn't be walking out of here." It was flashy, she was showing off, it might've been better to keep her knowledge of his signal a secret. But right now, she was focusing on establishing a reputation.

"Hey," She widened her smile, that acknowledgement was the equivalent of a handshake between professionals.

"The stuff?"

She pulled the drug bag out of her purse and handed it to him. He took a look at it, and passed it to one of his guys.

"Alright here." He passed her a wad of cash, "It's right, don't bother counting it."

"Anything you need handled, send it my way." She flipped him her card, he nodded and went back through the apartment door.

She motioned for Lamar to follow her out of the compound.

Two grand, a quick count got her that number, not bad for services rendered.

She peeled away five hundred dollar bills. "Twenty five percent finders fee, better than average."

The five hundred went to Lamar, he looked a little dumbfounded.

She flashed him another reassuring smile, "Your cut, call me tomorrow, when you have something lined up."

"ugh yeah, okay." She waved, then got in her car and set off for her hotel with one thought on her mind.

Damn, I need a champagne cocktail, followed by a long hot shower and a blonde to share it with.

Alright guys, this one's longer than most, but I'm okay with that. I'll be honest though, I don't entirely like this chapter, it felt clunky to write, and I really feel like I forced my way through some of the situations to make the opening missions of online fit the story. But that's for you guys to decide.

If any of you are wondering about the way I wrote Lamar, feel free to ask, I know he seems a bit different from the game, but I have my reasons. I won't put them all here, but PM me if you want to know.

BTW, this chapter was actually supposed to come out before the last one, I think it still works in the order that it's in, but what do you guys think, should I change it.

Oh yeah, I'm still looking for beta readers for this and other projects.

That should be all for now ladies and gentlemen, Read and Review as always.

Jake111 out.