The athletic, white man got out of his vehicle and went inside. He remembered from their mission, that Hampton liked to drink gin. He, being a verita...le midwestern white dude, picked up a case of Miller High Life. He also grabbed a bottle of orange juice as he wasn’t sure if Hampton liked mixers, or even if he had any at home. He paid in cash. He hopped back in the car and drove behind the slightly older Black spy. Hampton pulled into his apartment complex and entered the code. Travers. This is for a business conference. You’re over here.’ She took his shoulders and directed him all the way through to the host station. Chance lost his breath as they approached. Standing by the stand was a redheaded woman, of medium height, and with curves that a hard-boiled detective writer would call ‘dangerous.’ Her skin was the color of milk, her eyes were almost turquois. When she smiled, she tilted her head forward, exposing more of her eyes. ‘This is the writer I told you about,’ Ashley. More

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