Zorya tugged uncomfortably on her tight blouse, but couldn't deny that the effect it gave in the mirror was amazing. The outfit—a ruffled, button-down cream blouse and pink tweed pencil skirt—seemed to cling in all of just the right places to catch the attention of any man. It was certainly catching the attention of the blond man reflected behind her in the mirror. He was nodding appreciatively, the cigarette in his mouth bobbing up and down. Zorya pulled a face before popping open her lipstick and applying it. She smacked her lips and sighed. When she spoke, it was in a distinct Polish accent.

“Okay, so vat's his name again?”

The man behind her took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air before replying.

“Lariat. Jackson Lariat. Got a bit of a cowboy look to him. Owns a buncha stockyards out in Texas, but he's branching up into the slaughterhouse end of it too. Not playing well with others, though.”

Zorya nodded, understanding. The Chicago families had “convinced” the meatpacking industry to cut them in on a sizeable chunk of their profit. If Mr. Lariat didn't want to play nice, well...that's why they were here. She smoothed out her skirt and turned to face the man behind her.

“Ze vife is still in Texas?”

“Yep. Knock 'im dead. I'll have the camera ready.”

Zorya nodded and made her way out of the room and down the stairs. The bar below was softly lit and filled with businessmen unwinding over drinks, muttering about business deals gone wrong and chattering about recent triumphs. Lariat was unmistakeable. Bolo tie, ten-gallon Stetson, steel-toed boots—he was every bit the urban cowboy. She paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, sizing him up and devising a tactic. He didn't seem incredibly concerned with his surroundings. To get his attention, she would need to purr, sidle, and flutter—a full assault. Zorya straightened her shoulders and began slinking toward the bar.

Flirting with Jackson Lariat wasn't so much like a battle as it was like convincing a well-fed dog to eat a few more biscuits. Zorya managed to make herself seem like a good exotic conquest with ease, and Lariat ate it all up. When she leaned forward, nibbled his ear, and suggested that he follow her to her hotel room, he jumped up without hesitation, nearly dragging her along beside him. She glanced back at Telkin as Lariat held open the door, and the look on her old friend's face nearly made her stop and cancel the whole operation. Her eyes met Telkin's for just long enough to communicate all those tiny moments that they'd had since she came to America--drinking contests, tense heists, laughing at the gullibility of the marks the two had conned out of their hard-earned cash...

But she shook herself out of it and turned a brilliant smile to Lariat. He led her to the sleek limousine in the parking lot and let his hands wander over her body as he waited for the chauffeur to open the door for them. She tried to keep her body relaxed as he touched her--but it would be incredibly important to keep it in his pants until they got to the hotel. She slipped quickly into the backseat and kept Lariat engaged in conversation most of the way, even as she let him squeeze the curvier parts of her body. Finally, the limo stopped in front of the swanky Ambassador East Hotel.

She followed Lariat out of the car, smoothing her clothes and discreetly glancing around for signs that Telkin had followed them successfully.

"Maria and Jozef, can you wait for a few moments, Jack? I just need to--"

Zorya was having a brief struggle with the key because the cowboy was already trying to pull her clothes off in the hallway. She finally managed to undo the door and they pushed their way into the room. She soon found his lips and hands were pressing into her skin in places she hadn't even known were uncovered. She tried to reciprocate the man's passion, but found him overwhelming. Finally, she pushed him away long enough to take a deep breath. She glanced without thinking toward the closet and felt a flash of guilt--this whole operation had felt like a sort of betrayal from the start. A betrayal of her old partner, of the intimacy that her propriety kept denying both of them but that she was flaunting in front of him with a man she hardly knew.

"What's the matter, darlin'? You ain't havin' no second thoughts, are ya?" Lariat approached her, roughly undoing his large belt. "'Cause ya sure seemed like a little slut back in the bar. Just get on the bed and get what's comin' to ya already." His words were punctuated by the sound of his pants rustling to the floor. Zorya swallowed and forced a smile.

"Ah, no, Jack. Vas just...you come on very much stronger zan expected." She started fumbling with the buttons on her tight blouse, nervously revealing herself in the dim lamplight to the eyes of the two men she knew to be in the room.

Zorya couldn't help but feel dirty as she crawled into bed with the cowboy, feeling his hands and lips quickly taking advantage of her bared flesh. She knew from the start, though, that this mission would most likely require her to go the whole way with the old bastard, and she was prepared to do it.

So when the lights suddenly flicked on, she was just as surprised as Lariat to find Telkin standing by the door, a stern anger etched onto every inch of his face. Instinctively, she pulled the blankets over her naked body, even though logically she knew that Telkin had seen it just a few moments before. She looked to Lariat, who was releasing a string of curses as his face grew red and redder.

"Goddammit, what the hell is goin' on in here? Who the fuck are you? Some kinda peepin' tom, I reckon!" But as Lariat's eyes moved between Telkin's face, the camera, and Zorya's expression of fear, he began putting the pieces together. "Oh. Oh, I see. You are some kinda slut, ain't ya?" Lariat suddenly raised his hand and smacked Zorya across the ear. She gasped and stayed there for a moment, utterly shocked as she clutched her stinging ear. The anger soon followed. She began cursing at him in a mixture of Polish and English while smacking him in the chest with her fist: "Świnia! I am no zdzira! Vat kind of dupek, pojeb, ciuchu cmentarny hits a voman!"

Zorya had only seen Telkin this angry once before, and the memory of that made her scramble to intervene in whatever her friend would do to this man. She tugged her slip on over her head and arms for a glimmer of propriety, then hurried to put her hand on his shoulder. By this time, though, he had already calmed down enough to be talking business. She still looked warily between the two men, memories of the night Snidely died smashing through her mind in time with her elevated heartbeat.

Lariat finally coughed and wiped off his face before glaring at the two of them.

"Shoulda known she was jus' a who--" The man stopped as he saw Zorya's hackles visibly rise. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the carpet before settling back against the headboard, glowering his contempt to the pair. "Well, well, you I-talians finally got to me, huh? Fine. I'll talk turkey. How much y'all want?"

Zorya was still watching the two warily as she bent down to grab Lariat's trousers. She dug around in the pockets, found his checkbook, and brought it to the desk in a corner of the room. She carefully filled out the check and brought it to the man, unfolding the book in front of him. Lariat choked and sputtered for a second.

"Gawdammit, that much a month?"

Zorya broke into a slinky smile. "No, Mr. Lariat. That much a veek." She shrugged her shoulders in a delicate, careless manner. "Is standard. You have to spend money to make money, you know."

Zorya squeezed Telkin's hand and nodded, throwing a glare over her shoulder to the man prostrate in the bed. He was trying to mop up the blood on his face with some tissues by the bed. She muttered some Polish curse words under her breath, spat on the bed, and led Telkin out of the room.

They made their way toward a bar just a half block away from the hotel--it had been a rather classy establishment before Prohibition, and even now it was able to market itself as a comfortable gentleman's lounge to those who didn't know the password, and a swinging bar to those who did. When the pair entered the bar, many of the men turned to look Zorya up and down. A thought occurred to her suddenly--you know, I should be used to this by now. But I'm not. She sighed and nodded toward a secluded booth. Over drinks, she looked to Telkin. Upon meeting his gaze, she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears.

"Telkin, darling...can ve not do another one of those jobs? I'm very tired of them."

Telkin nodded and squeezed her hand. He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing it gently as he watched tears streaming silently down Zorya's face.