And When The Walls Come Down

Implications

Despite what Sergio may have thought, I hadn't started out my criminal career as... what he believed me to be.

Robbing diners was where the easiest money was to be made. Especially when you're a young girl who's just beginning to branch out, wanting to make her place in the seedy underbelly of the criminal world. 

Picture this, you're sitting in a beat up booth inside of a dingy diner, late at night, looking at the menu before you, or chatting with the kind, old waitress, maybe you're even drinking your coffee, waiting for your meal to be served so you can hit the road again.

Now, imagine that a sweet little thing walks in, all doe eyes and soft curls, she's a shy one, you can tell that just by looking at her mannerisms, and judging by the state of her clothes, she's been traveling for some time.

You're struck by how pretty she is, before realizing how young she seems, and just how out of place she appears to be, standing here in this lonely Texas diner. You watch as she takes a seat near the front of the counter.

This particular place usually doesn't get a lot of these types of customers, especially not at this time of night, you begin to think that she's run away from home, or an abusive boyfriend maybe, and you can't help but pity her.

Out of the corner of your eye you see her begin to chat with the waitress or the cook, both seemingly struck by the same thoughts you are, as they rush to ply her with southern comfort food and freshly brewed coffee.

You're about to settle your bill when suddenly, in storms a large figure with a ski mask over his face, he's pointing a gun to the room at large, when his eyes catch sight of the girl. He immediately prowls to her, catching her by the neck and pointing the gun to her temple, as he begins to yell out his demands.

The poor girl is terrified, tears streaming down flushed cheeks and you rush to unclasp your watch, your most valuable possession, as the attacker begins to sweep the room, making everyone place their wallets, and whatever else catches his fancy, inside the bag he's forced the girl to hold. Those who have guns itch to unholster them, to shoot, but are stopped by the pathetic whimpers that are coming from the girl's mouth.

You want to do something, anything, to help her get away, but you're too late, watching in dismay as the masked man pulls her out and into the waiting truck, and the last thing you see is the girl's scared expression. 

It really was that simple. See, people, well most people at least, have this inherent need to protect those they perceive to be weaker, those who appear more vulnerable than they are, so what better way to get people to part with their belongings without raising much of a fuss than to threaten a poor innocent girl?

Promising you'll shoot her in the head if they don't hand over their wallets and jewelry immediately?

It wasn't glamorous in any sense of the word, but I couldn't deny the rush the thrills gave me. 

We made a lot of cash those two summers, enough to start giving me ideas about moving back home where I belonged.

Everything went to hell when my partner in crime and best friend was killed by an off duty cop. It was all just a terrible coincidence, and partly my fault if we're being honest.

I knew the moment he recognized me, but I was too late to do anything, and by then, my life had already changed.

///

Meeting Martin and Andrés was... unexpected.

I had snuck into an ultra exclusive club in Luxembourg, dressed up enough so as to fit in with the older crowd. It's embarrassing to admit just how easy a time I had it, stealing from my victims inside those clubs.