Sure, you need the money.

Finally you arrive at the meeting place and see it is a massive arena filled with tons of people and music and roaring engines that can be heard for blocks. You decide as you are now going for the “Look at me I am a badass slut” vibe, you might as well go with it, and pull up as close to the front as you can and hop your bike up onto the curb and park it against a post. Popping open the little compartment below the back of the seat you pull out a thick chain and simple thick padlock, and lock it directly to the post.

“Hey you can’t park …” Is all you hear as you pull off the helmet and rise from behind the post as you finish clicking the lock closed. You step into view and see the man protesting is one of a group of 5 biker punk types all standing there now silent as they all look you over from head to toe and settle back on somewhere between trying to get a glimpse at the opening your skirt makes every time you move, across your sexy midsection, to your perky pierced nipples straining against your little top.

You stride up to the closest one effortlessly on your high heels as if you had worn them your entire life, and flash him a little naughty smile, “I am so sorry, I thought I could park here. Tell you what. I have some business inside, but when I come back if you and my ride are still here in one piece I would be happy to show you my appreciation.” As you finish your little speech you suck your long sexy finger, bobbing on it once in case he doesn’t get the drift.

“Fuck ya I will!” He exclaims almost triumphantly before asking as you stroll off, “Hey, what is your name?”

“Vixen.” Is all you call back without even glancing back. As you head in to the arena you see throngs of people milling about watching performers ranging from the mild, scantly clad women twirling flaming batons, to the truly bizarre, one troupe consisting of 2 men hanging from hooks in their backs with a massive hooks through their chests with chains dangling from them, as if that wasn't creepy suspended between them from these chains is a third man. The chains hook into his chest much like the men above. He is then also standing with his legs spread and all three have large weights suspended from their cocks. The thundering noise of live bands, as well as what ever the main event is, that all you can tell is that it apparently involves vehicles with massive engines. After a few seconds of listening to the crowd and the calls of the announcer you gather that it is some new variation of a demolition derby with trucks or tanks. You head in and right about the time you spot a guy with liberty spikes sticking out of his head getting a blowjob from a nearly naked whore you realize you need a drink. Deciding it best to at least try to avoid getting ****, you opt to buy an unopened bottle of beer as you go.

Finally after well over an hour of pushing through partying thugs and tramps you wind your way around the dirt track, dropping $50 to get past security, and reach a more expensive area. As you approach you see the guard is a huge mountain of a man you know is a troll in a business suit with a huge double bladed axe leaning against the wall beside him and a massive pistol on his hip. “You vixen?” The troll asks as you approach.

“Yes.” You answer simply.

“Go on in. Leave all your weapons with the girl at the door, or I split you.”

Without even thinking you can’t help but glance to his pants as he finishes saying this and unconsciously you lick your lips before you even realize what you are doing you blurt out, “Ok.” This apparently takes him a moment to process, but just as you realize what you just said it causes him to let out a little snort of a laugh.

Inside you are greeted by a flawless black woman built like a model but you sense she is wired far more than you are. “Weapons.” She hisses quietly. You hand over both pistols without a second thought, considering all you have been through, and walk in.

Once inside, you are greeted by a smallish but powerful looking man with two identical black women at each shoulder. He sits behind a desk on a large black throne like chair. “Kaylani called a while ago and told me I should be expecting you, as apparently there was some problem with the last person Max sent me by the name of Lynx.”

“I guess you could say that. He’s dead, apparently the corp. you were up against had hired someone by the name of Sebastian. Lynx was killed but not before he met up with Kaylani, and while fucking her, told her about his next job. She didn’t want her name or Max’s to be tarnished by an operative so stupid as to talk about future work, which is probably how they found him, and sent me to do whatever you needed.”

“I see, so basically they don’t want to loose their finders fee for providing me with a talented operative and you were the next in line. I am also guessing you are also in debt to Kaylani, as she talks way to highly of someone I haven’t heard of.” You can’t help but nod yes before he continues, “I also called Max, apparently you are one of his new recruits. Fine, I suppose I don’t see any good reason to fuck up my relationship with either of them also, and if they think you can do it I might as well give you the contract I had intended to give to Lynx.” He picks up a yellow envelope and tosses it to you. “Inside you will find all the information we have on a former employee of ours that originally stole the item from us he retrieved. Normally we wouldn’t bother to dwell on such details but as of yet we have been unable to determine how the thief was able to gain access so easily. Find them and bring them to me alive here and the $100,000 is yours.”

“Consider it done.” You say confidently, and with a nod from him, you turn and leave.

The woman at the door gives you back your stuff and points at a small door. “You may use this room as long as you like before you go.”

You walk in and open the file. Inside you find photos and data chips. You slot the chips into your little phone and bring up the file. Inside is the address, drivers license, car, and all other info on a young woman by the name of Misty Swan. You study the info and find several good starting points.

Check out her place.
Her friends are said to hang out at a club called “Inferno.”
Her car is still parked at a huge apartment building downtown, she may even be there.
Or start calling in your contacts and dropping her name.