Outside, the neon lights flickered above the entrance to Sugar & Spice, casting a pulsing glow onto the rain-slicked pavement. Inside, the scent of sweat, body spray, and cheap whiskey lingered in the air, blending into the haze of pulsating music and murmured conversations. Deeper in the bowels of the gentlemen’s club, Peaches rummaged through her locker. She knew she had put her favorite g-string in her bag the night before but now it was nowhere to be found. In her two years of working for The Syndicate since her sorority sister, Samantha, recruited her out of Howard University, this had been her least favorite assignment. She’d spent the majority of her life studying dance, including stints at Baltimore School for the Arts and Julliard. But despite all that experience and training, Judith Stone thought it best to stick her in this measly strip club in the middle of Mississippi. “Remember the job, it’s the only thing that matters,” she could hear Sam telling her over and over.

With a heavy sigh, she returned to searching her belongings for the lost g-string. But just as she was ready to give up, she noticed another girl, D’Nasty, wearing it. Every fiber of her being wanted to snatch D’Nasty, who’s really name was Dianne, by the 26 inch platinum blonde ponytail hanging from the top of her head and drag her all around the dressing room. “Even if I weren’t a trained assassin, it wouldn’t be a fair fight,” she told herself. Instead she shot daggers from her eyes as the costume thief bopped around the room. After what could’ve been an eternity, D’Nasty finally looked in Peaches’ direction. “Hey girl, I hope you don’t mind me borrowing this,” she said as she popped the g-string on her hip. “Nah girl, it’s all yours,” Peaches replied. With a grin on her face, D’Nasty ran over and embraced Peaches in a giant bear hug. Just as she could feel the anger build up inside her, Peaches heard the DJ call her name over the intercom.

Peaches adjusted the strap on her barely-there black lace corset and stepped onto the stage, her every movement calculated. As she wrapped her long legs around the pole, arching her back with practiced ease and the grace befitting a classically trained ballerina, she scanned the crowd. Men sat in tattered leather chairs, their gazes locked on her, but she wasn’t looking for them. She was making sure she had eyes on her target. She had spent the better part of the last 6 months infiltrating Sugar & Spice, earning the trust of the dancers, the bouncers, even the club’s sleepy owner. She had mapped out every escape route, memorized every camera angle.

After her set on stage, Peaches returned to the dressing rom to take a quick shower. As she was getting dressed , she heard her phone vibrate in her locker. She retrieved the iPhone out of her bag and checked the notifications. She had received a text message from her employer, Judith Stone. She quickly opened the message and was greeted with the picture of her target. It was none other than D’Nasty herself. “I’d almost be willing to do this one for free,” she said to herself as she looked at the picture. Just then, she received a notification stating she had just received an email. She opened the email and read the instructions contained in it. She wasn’t to kill Dianne, as she was not the target. The target was her father: the leader of a radical militia group in the area that had plans to storm the state capital building in an attempt to start a revolution.

Just then, a few of the other girls entered the dressing room. Peaches, who was born Prudence Miller, quickly stashed her phone back in her locker and finished getting dressed. “A few of us are going to Waffle House after we get off tonight, wanna come?” Prudence smiled and nodded her head as she closed her locker and headed for the door to her car. She quickly threw her bag into the backseat of the car, then went to the trunk to grab her gear. She fished her Glock 26 and holster out of her tactical bag, then looked up to see if anyone was watching her. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she removed her Nike track jacket and slipped the holster onto her shoulders. She put the jacket back on as she continued to scan her gear. Since her assignment was to kidnap Dianne, she needed a non-lethal way to take Dianne down. That’s when she noticed the glass vial full of a milky white substance. Prudence grabbed the vial and slid it into her jacket pocket.

A half an hour later, the ladies from Sugar & Spice had turned the local Waffle House into a PG-13 striptease show. As the dancers twerked and bounced around the restaurant, Prudence devised a plan to get Dianne alone. She quietly sat back and watched her target stumble around the building in a pair of worn out Reebok Classics. She’s so drunk, I won’t even have to drug her. She slyly crept up behind Dianne just as she was about to take a tumble. “Come on girl, let me take you home.” Dianne didn’t say anything, she just nodded softly as she seemed to drift in and out of consciousness.

Prudence quickly got Dianne into the passenger seat of her car then drove them away from the restaurant. The small town’s street lights blurred past as she navigated towards an are that they wouldn’t attract attention. Dianne attempted to sit up in her seat and meekly asked where they were going. “Somewhere quiet,” Prudence responded and refocused on the road ahead.

As soon as they reached the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, Prudence turned off the engine. Before Dianne could react, Prudence moved, fast and precise, stabbing a syringe filled with the milky white substance into her arm. Dianne attempted to struggle against the drug coursing through her veins but she went limp within seconds. Prudence exhaled sharply as she hoisted Dianne’s unconscious body over her shoulder. She carried her inside and secured her to a chair with zip ties.

About an hour later, Dianne began to stir, blinking against the dim light overhead. Her breathing hitched when she realized she was bound.

“What the hell?!”

“Good morning, sunshine,” Prudence quipped, arms crossed. Dianne’s eyes darkened. “Peaches, what kind of sick fucking game is this?!”

“First off, I fucking hate that name,” Prudence growled as she leaned in, “And I’m not too fond of you either.” A scowl spread across Diann’s face. “Is this about me wearing your g-strings?”

Prudence rolled her eyes. “I know who you are. And better yet, I know who your daddy is.”

Dianne’s lips parted, but she stopped just short of speaking. She took a moment to think. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Prudence let out a small chuckle. “Save it, sweetheart. I did my homework. Victor Montague, the militia leader. Word is he has plans to overthrow the government of this… charming state of yours.” Dianne flinched as if she was physically assaulted by hearing of her father’s plans.

“You see, the problem is, I need your father,” Prudence continued, “And you? You’re my leverage.” Dianne shot daggers at her from her eyes. “You think he’ll come for me? He won’t. I haven’t seen him in years. Shit, I probably hate him more than you do.”

Prudence tilted her head to the side and fished a small knife out of the pocket of her jacket. She quickly flipped the blade out. “Maybe not willingly. But if I send the right message, he won’t have a choice.”

Hours passed and neither woman said anything to the other, their jaws locked close in defiance. And while Prudence admired the resolve of her prisoner, she knew she was running out of time. “You don’t get it,” Dianne finally blurted out, “I ran away for a reason. If you take me back, he’ll kill me.” Prudence furrowed her brow at the idea of a father wanting to kill his own daughter. Memories of her relationship with her own father danced around in her head.

“Why? Why would he want to kill you?”

Dianne swallowed hard and leaned her head back on the chair. “Because I stole something from him.”

Prudence was intrigued. She took a step forward as her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“A ledger. He called it his manifesto. It has the dates and locations for different attacks he’s planning. Names of his members. If it got into the wrong hands, a lot of powerful people could go down.”

Prudence put the knife away and wringed her hands. Her heartbeat quickened as a sly smile stretched out across her face. “So where is it?”

“You let me go and I’ll tell ya.”

Prudence let out a small sigh. This wasn’t how she planned things going, but she knew when to improvise. And she knew bringing in that ledger would be a game-changer for her. “Fine. But if you double-cross me, I will make you regret it.”

“Trust me, I believe you.”

Prudence untied Dianne and they drove to greasy roadside motel outside of town. Dianne led Prudence to a battered suitcase hidden in the A/C vent in one of the rooms. She pried it open, revealing a leather-bound notebook filled with handwritten notes. Prudence feverishly flipped through it, scanning the pages. She saw names of state and federal politicians, judges, law enforcement officers, and even the newly elected President of the United States. This was it, the evidence that could dismantle the entire network.

“Now what?” Dianne asked.

“Now I make a call,” Prudence responded as she pulled her phone from her pocket. But before she could finish dialing the number, she heard the clash of metal against metal. She looked up and Dianne was holding a small pistol.

“Seriously?!”

Dianne’s hands were shaking slightly, a mixture of the drug and her nerves left her grip a bit unsteady. “You were never going to let me go, were you?”

“I told you, I’m not after you and I don’t kill innocent people.”

“Tell that to the girl you drugged and tied to a chair.” Dianne readjusted her grip on the gun.

Prudence couldn’t help but snicker. “You got a point.”

Silence fell over the room for what felt like an eternity before Dianne sighed and lowered the gun. “I don’t trust you,” she sneered.

“Good, because I don’t trust you either.” The two women stared at each other, both unwillingly participants in an unexpected game of chicken. “Let’s go take down dear ol’ daddy,” Prudence said as she slipped the ledger into her jacket. Dianne hesitated for a brief moment then nodded. Together, they walked out of the fleabag motel room and into the night, uncertain allies bound by a common enemy.

The ride to Victor Montague’s compound was tense. Dianne sat up, stiff as a board, in the passenger seat, arms folded tightly across her petite frame, her jaw clinched. Prudence could tell that she was still contemplating betrayal, so she kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other inside her jacket, wrapped around the handle of her Glock 26.

“You realize we probably both gonna die tonight, right?” Dianne muttered halfway under her breath.

“What’s life without a little risk, huh? You only live once.” Dianne fired off a death stare. “You got jokes. My daddy is a paranoid psychopath. If he even thinks that something ain’t right, he’ll kill you where you stand.”

“I guess its a good thing I have a plan.” Dianne scoffed. “Care to share?”

Prudence righted her grip on the steering wheel. “You’re his daughter, his own flesh and blood. He might wanna kill you, but he’s gonna want to hear you out first. You go inside and play the prodigal daughter, and I’ll make sure we both walk out.”

Dianne let out a hearty laugh. “Girl, you don’t know shit about my old man.”

“Please enlighten me then.” Dianne hesitated for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. “My daddy don’t care ‘bout family, he only cares about power. He only cared about me until I stopped being his obedient little girl. When I ran away from home, he didn’t send men to bring me back. He sent them to kill me because I took that book.” Prudence quietly drove the car, letting the information she just received sink in. “If that’s true, why are you helping me? Why not just make a run for it?”

Dianne’s expression turned to stone. “Because I wanna see that fucker dead just as bad as you do.” Prudence looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Okay. But if you double-cross me, I’ll put a bullet in your head my damn self.” Dianne’s expression lightened as she stared out the window at the country speeding by. “Take a number, honey.”

Victor Montague’s compound was nestled deep in the Mississippi countryside, an isolated fortress surrounded by acres of thick forest. The kind of place where a person could disappear and nobody would ever think to come look for you. Prudence parked a few miles away from the main gate. She hopped out the car, opened the trunk and retrieved an assault rifle from its case. Then she grabbed a small backpack and slung the strap over her left shoulder. Dianne stood and watched her in amazement, so Prudence fished the knife out of her pocket and handed it to her. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Knives are inconspicuous. You don’t daddy dearest would be concerned if you showed with a gun?” Dianne shrugged. “I guess you got a point.” Together, they slowly made their way up the winding dirt road towards the compound’s main gate. Once they were in sight of the main gate, Prudence slinked away behind the tree line as Dianne continued on. The guards at the front gate tensed when they saw her walking towards them and instinctively lifted their guns into a ready position. “Tell my father I came to talk.” The guards exchanged wary glances before one of them grabbed the radio from his hip. After a few moments, a loud buzzer sounded and the heavy metal gate began to open. Dianne cautiously approached as the guards side stepped out of her way. She was escorted inside the main house and to a large sitting area, walking past numerous confederate flags and portraits of Civil War era southern leaders. As she walked past the pictures of the men, she look at each and shuddered.

Meanwhile, Prudence had made her way undetected to the back side of the compound. She quickly scanned the area for any kind of surveillance equipment. There was none to be seen. “Paranoid psychopath my ass. This is easier than sneaking into the dorms at Howard.” She found a gap in the wall and squeezed her way through it.

Dianne sat in the house’s makeshift assembly hall and waited for her father. The air smell of cheap cigars, body order and something sickly sweet that she couldn’t quite make out. Just as she thought she knew what it was, Victor Montague’s appeared in the doorway. He was an older man, what was left of his salt and pepper hair stuck out from underneath a bright red baseball cap with white writing on the front. “Dianne, what the hell brings your scrawny ass back here?!”

“Hey to you too, Daddy.”

Victor pulled a large revolver from the holster on his hip. “What’s to keep me from killing your treacherous ass right where you stand?” Dianne’s whole body tensed up as she felt herself staring down the literal and metaphorical barrel of her impending doom. “If you kill me, you’ll never get your book back.” Victor let out a heavy sigh, returned the gun to its holster, removed the ball cap, and rubbed his head where he once had hair. “Where is it, you conniving you little bitch?”

“It’s somewhere safe, that’s all you need to know.” Victor slowly worked his way back onto his feet and started to approach his daughter. As he did, she discreetly fumbled around in her pockets for the knife that Prudence gave her.

“And what the fuck do you want?” Dianne braced herself for what she anticipated to be her father’s next move. “Well Daddy, I want you gone.” Victor let out a hearty laugh as he took another step towards his daughter. “If that was the case honey, you would’ve come here with the army in tow.” At that exact moment, the power went out.

Gunfire erupted sporadically around the room that Victor and Dianne were in. Without hesitation, he grabbed her by the throat and shoved her against the wall behind her. “WHO THE FUCK DID YOU BRING HERE?!” Dianne struggled to free herself from his vice grip to no avail.

“Nobody Daddy,” she gasped. He tightened his grip around her throat as he pulled his revolver. “Don’t lie to me or I’ll blow that stupid fucking ponytail right off your fucking head!”

Somewhere else in the house, Prudence calmly navigated her way through the darkness with the help of a set of night vision goggles. And with each of Victor’s men that she encountered, she handled with deadly efficiency. After a few moments, the lights came roaring back on. Prudence expertly closed her eyes and pushed the goggles up to her forehead. And that’s when the chaos really broke out. The tactical team that Prudence called in stormed the gate. And while Victor’s men weren’t any slouches, they were no match for an ambush of well-trained soldiers. One by one, they fell in a haze of smoke and gunfire. Victor, however , was on the move. And he had a hostage with him. Prudence spotted him pushing Dianne through a side door and out into the compound’s main yard.

She pursued them out the door and past stacks of crates containing all sorts of supplies and weapons. And while he was quick for a man of his age, he was undoubtedly slowed down by the human shield he had in tow. Prudence finally caught up with them in the garage, where he was trying to shove Dianne into a SUV. “I hate to tell you that you came all this way to die, you black bitch!” Victor turned towards Prudence and raised the revolver. But before he could fire, Dianne stuck the knife in his stomach. Victor gasped, his eyes widened. The look on his face could only be described as utter shock. He instinctively backhanded his daughter and she flew back into the car. He turned his attention back towards Prudence and, before he could move again, she fired 3 shots into his chest. Victor dropped his gun and collapsed to the ground beneath him. Prudence lowered the assault rifle and rushed to the open door of the SUV. “You okay?”

Dianne rubbed her cheek and said, “Yeah, I think so. That summabitch hits like a tank.” She kicked the body of her newly deceased father that laid at her feet.

The tactical team swept through the compound, securing any surviving members of the militia and any pertinent information they came across. Prudence and Dianne stood outside the gate as smoke billowed towards the heavens. “What now?”

Prudence looked over her shoulder at the destroyed gate and then back down the road towards her car. “You’re free.”

“What about you?”

Prudence sighed. “I go back to home and see what my employer has lined up for me next.” Dianne looked her up and down, then said, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“God, I hope not.” They both laughed. And with that, they went their separate ways – two survivors in a world of shadows, bound by blood and betrayal.