Episode 4: Tangier Tango
Tangier by day was a sun-drenched maze of white rooftops, narrow alleys, and crooked smiles. By night, it was shadows, whispers, and trouble.
Salty and Zinshed arrived on a high-speed train from Marrakesh, rolling in like sexy thunder.
“Alright,” Zinshed said, checking his sidearm. “We’ve got word Sofia’s working with a fixer called Ghost Cat—smuggles anything from diamonds to diplomats.”
“Ghost Cat?” Salty raised an eyebrow. “What’s next? Flamingo Falcon?”
“I don’t name these psychos,” Zinshed grunted. “I just shoot them.”
At the train station, Delphine and Rico were waiting, sipping mint lemonade like it was a spy convention.
“She’s in the medina,” Delphine whispered. “Inside an old hammam. But there’s something off.”
“What, no hot towels?” Salty asked.
“No. Her comms went dark five hours ago. And Ghost Cat’s last known location? Same hammam.”
Salty looked around. “So it’s either a reunion… or a trap.”
Rico grinned. “Either way, I brought grenades.”
The medina at dusk was chaos. Donkeys, mopeds, tourists, and the smell of roasted lamb filled the air. Salty led the way in a linen shirt that hugged all the right places. Cherry joined him, undercover in a slinky kaftan that turned heads—and one scooter into a wall.
“Oops,” she said, smug.
Inside the abandoned hammam, the air was cool and eerie. Candles flickered. A pool of water shimmered in the centre.
Sofia stood on the far side, hands up. “No weapons. I swear.”
Salty stepped forward. “Give me one reason not to throw you in that pool and make it a Turkish bath fight.”
She smirked. “Because I brought company.”
From the shadows: Ghost Cat appeared.
Tight black bodysuit. Platinum hair. Eyes like a feral goddess. She had a gun in one hand—and a rose in the other.
“Charmed, I’m sure,” she purred. “I’ve heard about you, Salty.”
He smiled. “I get that a lot. Usually right before someone tries to shoot me or seduce me. Sometimes both.”
She laughed. “Why not both?”
Just then—BOOM! Flashbang!
Delphine stormed in. Zinshed kicked down the side door. Rico rolled in with a drone.
But it was too late.
Sofia had slipped behind Ghost Cat and whispered something. Suddenly—Ghost Cat spun and SHOT Sofia in the shoulder.
“Double-crossing b****,” Ghost Cat growled.
Sofia fell, bleeding.
Salty dove, tackled Ghost Cat into the pool. Guns flew. Cherry grabbed Sofia, applying pressure.
“Why do your exes keep bleeding on me?” she muttered.
In the water, Salty and Ghost Cat fought dirty. Slippery kicks, underwater punches, one intense moment of eye contact.
“You like it rough,” she hissed, grabbing his belt.
“I like it over,” he said, flipping her out of the pool.
Zinshed cuffed her with a grin. “Nice swim, kitty.”
Later, back at their Tangier safehouse, Sofia was patched up on the couch, wrapped in gauze and guilt.
“I knew she’d betray me,” she sighed. “I just didn’t think it’d hurt this much.”
Salty handed her a glass of wine. “The bullet or the betrayal?”
“Both.”
He sat beside her. “Next time, trust us.”
She looked at him, touched his hand. “You still believe in next times?”
Salty leaned in. “I believe in tequila. And second chances.”
They kissed—soft at first. Then not.
From across the room, Cherry tossed a pillow. “Ugh! Get a room.”
Salty grinned. “Already did.”
Final scene: Zinshed looking out over the Strait of Gibraltar with Delphine.
“This smuggling ring’s bigger than we thought. Ghost Cat was just the tail. Someone nastier’s pulling the strings.”
Delphine lit a cigarette. “And we just got invited to the main event.”
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