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Stacy twitched. She thought she had been alone in the car. The man must have been slouching or something.
"Come on." he said, putting his arm through the door. "They're going to close any second."
Stacy's mind worked furiously. She caustiously grabbed the black shoulder bag next to her and followed the man. There was a small crowd heading for the three open turnstiles on the left. A few people were buying tickets and tokens in an area on the right.
"Why are we doing this again?" she asked, hoping for some clue or another.
"Don't be too worried about, Stacy." said the man. He rustled his black trenchcoat. "After all..."
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"You've prosecuted most of the looters already."
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"How many times have you completed the purchase of an ISP? Dozens?"
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The man lowered his voice. "You're the best hitwoman ever. Don't get cold feet."
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"Sure, the fish market is now yours. But the men trust you."
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