Fake, In More Ways Than One

Computers were never his strong point. Even though he could program a phone into a city hacking weapon, to code his way into the capital's records was beyond him. It's not much of a wonder then that Yamato was finding difficulty in understanding the woman's language.

"We have to bypass the city's quadratic logarithm, tear down the firewall's triad security, as well as take down each of the servers simultaneously without setting anything off."

"Can you do that?" Yamato asked, confused.

The red haired buxom lady turned to Yamato and smirked. "Are you kiddin' me? This is child's play for the Hawk."

That was what people called her. The Hawk. Quite possibly the best hacker in the country, maybe even within the EU. Yamato knew her as Rena Westfall, an old school friend that he used to hang around with.

The girl was tall, around five-eight, with long red hair and slender curves, and a large bust. Yamato had thought it fake, but Westfall INSISTED that they were real. To say that he thought her a liar was an understatement.

"Sometimes I question whether or not you're sane," Yamato groaned, putting a hand on the back of her chair. Westfall laughed, muttering something about sanity. Her hands were flying across the keyboard, hitting all manners of button sequences. The only sounds for a couple of minutes was the tapping of the keyboard, but then suddenly a loud beep sounded on the monitor.

"And we are IN!" Westfall yelled, slouching back into her chair lazily. Her head turned back to Yamato with a grin. "See? Child's play." She then stood up, and leaned over to Yamato. "Now about my reward..."

Yamato put a wad of cash, five grand in total. "Fat chance," he added, pushing back Westfall's head with his finger.

As it happened, Westfall was also a MASSIVE pervert.

"Awwww," she moaned, sitting back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. She looked toward her nails lazily, a manner of different thoughts coursing through her head, before she gave a smirk and stood up. "Well, my job is done, Jackie." She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, a short leather top that complimented her bust. She walked over to the door, but stopped when she reached for the knob. "What exactly DID you want that for, Jack?"

"I thought you're the no-questions-asked kind of girl."

"But we're friends! You gotta tell me something."

Yamato looked at her with a dark glare. "Out," he growled. Westfall grimaced, before she quickly left.

Yamato waited for a few moments, before letting out a small whistle. "She's left."

From his closet, a girl came out, wearing a tattered jacket with remarkably similar looks to the same woman who had just left.

"And not a moment too soon!" the girl yelled, rushing to the computer. "The fucking whore's infected the hard-drive."

This here girl, with darker red hair, a similar bust and height, but with grimier clothing and glasses that seemed to magnify her startling green eyes, was named Rena Westfall. The true Rena, at least.

"You were right," Yamato said with his arms folded. "She WAS a fake."

"How could you tell that she was the fake? What if I'M the fake Rena?"

Yamato put his folded arms on the back of the armchair. "She was too much of a looker."

"You callin' me ugly, you cheeky prick?!"

"On the contrary. Rena, me and you've been mates since we were kids. If I couldn't tell the difference whether or not you're a real Rena Westfall, I should be shot."

"Don't tempt me," Rena growled, her hands literally flying across the keyboard at an astonishing rate. "The damn bitch! She thinks she can wear my face like a fucking mask?! Don't you dare piss off the predator, you little whore!"

Yamato stood away from Rena at that point, a little scared of her words. Apart from one other, Rena was the only person that truly scared him. He let out a sigh.

A beep sounded, with a whoop coming from Rena. "Fuck yes!" she yelled, pumping the air with her fist. "Don't estimate the Hawk, muthafuckaaaah!" She stood up, and at that moment she made some sort of absurd dance, before ending with a Saturday Night Fever pose.

"Dignity remaining? Zeh-roh, Rena!"

Rena laughed, before she slapped her own backside. "This ass ain't just pretty, ya know."

"I know it's a pretty arse, missy. Just stop acting like a fool."

"Awh, c'mon. I know you got that assassin Crystal as a missus. Can't you fool around a little?" She made a pouting face at Yamato, who smirked.

"Ha! Don't push your luck, Westie," he answered. Rena huffed, before smoothing down her jacket.

"You're missing out, hun."

"I beg to differ."

Rena smiled, but then her smile turned to a frown. "Why'd you give her five g's?"

"I didn't."

"Ten?"

"They're fake, genius," Yamato sighed, shaking his head. "Insurance. If the cameras I've got set up around the apartment complex don't get attention from either the organisation or the cops, then the fake poundsies certainly will. Either way, that bitch is screwed."

"Poundsies?"

"Couldn't exactly call em greenies, could I? We're not in America."

"Touché."

"See?" Yamato smirked. "Not just a handsome face after all."

"Funny."

Yamato smirked, before giving the girl a hug. "Thanks for the head's-up though."

Rena smiled, hugging her friend back. "Of course. It's what friends are for, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Your dough's in the cupboard," Yamato added, pointing at a drawer, to which Rena made a beeline. 'Give them money, and they're putty in your hands,' he thought as he watched Rena flick through the real five grand with glee etched in her grin.

"You didn't have to," she attempted to say, trying to sound grateful.

"Would you rather me not give you the money?"

"NO!" she yelled quickly, hugging the money to her breasts protectively.

"That's what I thought. Off with you then, Miss Westfall. Oh, and... don't worry yourself about the imposter. She'll get caught soon enough." He grinned at her, sitting down in the chair. Rena gave him a nod, before leaving. He sighed, slumping back into his chair.

"And here's me wanting a night in alone. Thanks, Rena," he grumbled as he set to work on the CCTV around the apartment complex and running the fake Westfall's face through the police record database. See if there was any matches. However, by the time he finally accessed the records, it was at least two AM. He couldn't be bothered at that particular moment, so against his better judgement his tiredness won out, and it didn't take long before Yamato was on his bed sprawled out across his bed, sound asleep.

"Good night, killer..."