(Image is of actress Laura Bell Bundy, found here.)
When Crime DOES Pay
"Ma'am, can you please step out of the vehicle? This is a mandatory routine inspection."
Gail gave the heavyset border security guard her brightest smile, turned the engine off, and complied.
"Goodmorning, Officer...?"
"Permit, please", he ordered in a practiced manner, refusing to even acknowledge her attempt at being charming - much less give her his name.
It didn't matter. She had her part to play, and had spent hours rehearsing it. She was ready.
"Permit? Yes, of course! Right away!"
She starting rummaging through the contents of her purse, her perfectly manicured fingers looking for the free passage permit.
"Give me a moment, officer - I'm sure it's somewhere in here!"
The guard gave her a distrustful look and signaled at a couple of his fellow guards, who started inspecting the car for contraband.
Gail continued the sexy-but-dumb-blonde shtick, paying them no attention.
She couldn't get that old stupid rhyme Dink used to tease her with out of her head:
Step out of line, step on a mine. Follow the Dink, you're in the pink.
She didn't know where the rhyme was from, but it had served them both well.
She had followed Dink, made a killing, and had certainly stood in the pink - at least until Dink was torn to shreds by a razorball.
But that was another story altogether.
The moral of the thing was supposed to be that as long as she stuck to the plan, everything would be a-okay, and her part in it was to waste as much of the guards' time as possible.
At the same time, her - ahem - cybersecurity expert accomplice would take advantage of the diversion, use the car's WiFi adapter to break into the checkpoint's network, and tamper with the database.
In 20 minutes or so, when the actual smugglers would arrive. Their permits would check out without a hitch, the contraband would be fenced, and Gail would receive a rather sizeable cut.
Or, at least, that was the plan.
She glanced at the guard. He was getting impatient. Good. That meant it was time for phase two.
Still playing the dumb bimbo, she let her purse fall down, scattering an ungodly number of lipsticks, eye pencils, and other trinkets on the ground.
"Oh, I'm such a klutz!"
That was it.
"Hands in the air where I can see them!" barked the guard, and he drew his sidearm. As if electrified, the other guards followed.
She did her best to look stupidly innocent and innocently stupid, raised one hand, and pointed down with the other.
Right on top of the whole cosmetics' mess, between a burgundy lipstick and a tampon, lay her permit.
It took another few minutes to sort everything out, but Gail's permit checked out to be - of course - in order. She thanked the guards for their patience, bid them goodbye, got in her car, and started the engine.
As she drove past the checkpoint and into freedom, she could hardly suppress her smile.
The car's engine fault indicator LED was shining a bright red; that was the signal that everything had gone according to plan.
She beamed.
Dink may had been wrong about a lot of things, but crime?
Crime DID pay, after all.
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