Runner-up 3

It was during the plane ride to LAX that Palmieri had decided to cut his losses and finish this business himself. As soon as he arrived he chose a cheap hotel at the intersection of the 10 and the 110 where a gunshot blended into the environment as naturally as the Trojan fight song.

It was a deep-seated criminal instinct kicking in, something about the stripper’s phone call.

Her story about mailing all the information to her friend the judge? The worst he had heard in ages, and Palmieri had sat through a lot of desperate stories from desperate people. Who did she think he was? Another gullible politician fawning over her every word?

He pretended to buy every line of her story and insisted that she come to the hotel to discuss a payoff. He told Hans he was going to get the revenge he so desperately wanted.

Palmieri knew the type. A woman like her made choices based on survival. He respected that, he understood that way of life. If she was capable of eluding and injuring one of his most accomplished assassins, she could be a priceless asset and help to rope in the others who knew about the flash drive and trusted her. He would have to put her instincts to the ultimate test. And Hans? Well, he was getting old and careless.

She sat before both of them, her lean, perfect body trembling slightly but still very collected. Palmieri suddenly understood Falco’s weakness. Not hard for a man to lose all sense of self with a woman like that. His eyes glimmered with the sight of unlimited potential.

“Hans,” Palmieri said sternly, “wait outside with the others. Now.”

“See you soon baby,” he hissed. “Nowhere to run this time.”

When he had gone Palmieri sat across from her and smiled.

“First, let’s forget the past. Your future is all that interests me. I know there is no letter and no judge. But I don’t care, and I’m going to prove that to you right now.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a handgun. Carmen shuddered and drew back in her seat. Had her story failed so completely?

She nearly fainted when Palmieri placed the gun in her hand. Quickly, she aimed it at his forehead.

“You see,” he whispered without a sign of distress, “you’re a natural.”

He leaned back and looked at her with a brutal intensity.

“I want to offer you a new life, Carmen. More money, more opportunity than you ever dreamed. All I require is loyalty.”

Carmen’s head felt like it was going to fall off her shoulders. She didn’t understand what he meant. The only thing she realized was that holding the gun felt good. She tightened her grip.

“What do you . . . “ she began to say.

“In a moment I’m going to bring Hans in here, and I want you to settle your business with him.”

“Settle my . . . “

“In my world, this is what amounts to a job offer,” Palmieri interrupted again. “Decide. There’s no time left.”

He cracked open the door and called for Hans. He came in bursting with enthusiasm, but when he saw Carmen with her gun pointed his face became pale and he began to reach into his pocket.

Carmen couldn’t hear a single sound except for her heartbeat pounding at her fingertips. The gun trembled. A million questions swirled in her head but eventually settled down on the one thing she knew for sure. Her stripping days were over.

Tom Yufik is a UC Berkeley graduate living in South Pasadena.