As Joseph Cunningham watched his wife from across the table, watched her supple red lips slide fluidly over her teeth, he felt like he was in a trance. She was speaking very clearly, but her mouth movements were just a fraction of a second behind her words, like a foreign movie where the English had been dubbed in, but the soundtrack was one beat off the video. Everything seemed so surreal, but oddly, it didn't matter.

Kellie was holding his hand and smiling her radiant smile, exposing teeth so straight and white that he could have been watching a Crest White Strips commercial. The perfection of her teeth is what caused Joseph a moment of confusion. He seemed to remember a slight gap, but the memory of it was clouded, like trying to recognize a face through a frosted window.

'Joseph, honey, did you hear me?'� Joseph continued to look at his wife, but didn't say anything. 'Just tell me where the drug shipment is coming in. You know I won't tell anyone, so it will be just like you never said it.'� Kellie paused to make sure Joseph was looking at her, 'I will definitely make it worth your while, if you know what I mean.'� She gave Joseph such a sultry look and licked her lips with such passion that it would have made a porn star blush, but Joseph just continued to stare at her like he didn't know what she meant at all.

They were sitting in the kitchen nook of their house, surrounded by open windows. A warm country breeze was blowing in causing the white lace curtains to move restlessly, occasionally flipping up then appearing to float back down in slow motion.

Joseph glanced over Kellie's shoulder and saw a very large rat sitting on the windowsill eating what looked like a Twinkie. He frowned, wondering where a rat would find a Twinkie. The better question of why there even was a rat sitting on his windowsill, danced around his mind, but didn't come fully to the surface.

'Kellie, have you noticed rats running around here? There is one sitting on the windowsill right behind you eating a Twinkie.'� Joseph said this in a nonchalant tone, as if rats eating a Twinkie on the windowsill were an everyday occurrence.

'Now Joseph,'� Kellie said, not taking her eyes off him, 'let's not talk about rats, let's talk about where that drug shipment is going to land. If you can...'�

But Joseph had lost focus again, and Kellie's voice sounded like nothing more than bleed-through from an out of tune radio station. He wasn't sure why she was so interested in knowing about the drug shipment anyway. If he told her, and word got out somehow, he knew he would have his heart out of his chest and stuffed into his mouth, so fast he wouldn't even have time to scream, because blabbermouths were just not tolerated.

He looked past Kellie again to see how much progress the rat was making on the Twinkie, but the rat was gone. A movement in the field beside their house caught his eye. Thirty feet off the ground, he saw the massive body of the Goodyear blimp lazily floating by, dragging its mooring lines from its nose like giant whiskers. He could hear muted voices coming from the gondola and could see someone waving absently as if riding on a float in the Macy's parade.

He let go of Kellie's hand and walked over to the window. 'Kellie, you have to see this. There's-'� Joseph turned around, but she was gone. 'Kellie?'� From behind him, he heard what sounded like seagulls, and when he turned to look, he found himself standing on an expansive beach of shining black sand caressed by crystal blue water. He spun back towards the house, but where the house had stood was a sheer cliff of brilliant white stone that stood in such contrast to the black sand that Joseph had to shield his eyes from its glare.

Joseph heard a rolling, deep rumble of what he thought was peals of thunder. He twisted around to see a towering wave rushing in from the horizon. White foam sprayed from the crest like charging stallions. He tried to scramble up the wall, but the surface was like glass.

The mammoth wave rolled, and a thousand tons of water thundered to the ground. The shock knocked him to the sand, and he was immediately submersed in the churning water. He tried to scream, but his lungs filled with fluid, and the world flashed black.

Then with a loud crack, the churning completely stopped. The only sound was an electric hum. He tried to focus, but the world around him was distorted and stretched as if looking through glass. Still, he could make out a red-haired man dressed in white.

Joseph tried to yell for help, but he had no voice and couldn't breathe. He tried to move his head, but only felt a floating sensation. Above him, the sky pulsed with red light as he stretched his mouth in a silent scream.

#
Brian Jennings, a man in his late twenties, absently brushed back his blazing red hair as he stood in awe of what he was seeing. He was in the middle of a long, narrow room finished completely in white, giving it a heavenly glow. The length of the room was split up with about twenty workstations, each with a computer placed in front of a glass case sprouting a series of black wires.

He watched five men, all wearing white lab coats similar to his, move among the workstations, writing notes on their clipboards. He saw another man sitting at a workstation, staring at a computer screen. A slight medicinal smell hung in the air, reminding him of a doctor's office.

Brian couldn't believe he was actually inside the Head Investigation lab. The lab and what went on inside it, was notorious, and to be on the inside of where it all happened sent an unexpected surge of excitement through is body. Brian looked down at the ID tag hanging on his white lab coat. He was always amazed at how real the boys down an 32nd street could make these things look. Hell, even his picture-

'So you must be Steve...'�

Brian turned to see a barrel shaped man, wearing a navy blue lab coat, surveying him. The man appeared to be in his mid fifties and was sporting a military haircut. From the descriptions Brian had received in his debriefing, he knew this had to be Bud Parker, the department's lead investigator. Putting on a show of respect, Brian stood a little straighter and said 'Williamson. Steve Williamson from west coast corporate. It's nice to meet you sir.'� Brian stuck a hand out.

Bud Parker raised his eyebrows and snorted. 'Sir? You can save that bullshit for the white collars in corporate.'� Bud took Brian's hand, shook it and glanced at his ID. 'They told me one of you boys was coming out here as an observer for a couple of days.'� Bud surveyed Brian like a marine drill sergeant eyeing up one of his newest recruits then smiled. 'Well I hope you have a strong stomach Williamson.'�

Brian looked at Bud and had to stifle a laugh. 'I think I'll be all right si- ah, I mean Mr-'�

Bud looked back at Brian and laughed. 'Bud. Just call me Bud.'� He slapped Brian on the back hard enough to cause his white lab coat flip forward. 'Now what did they tell you at corporate?'�

'Not much... Bud. Only the basics. They said they didn't want me to get any preconceived opinions about how things ran at the lab and unless you're really high up in corporate, what goes on here is strictly classified.'� Bud nodded and grinned as if he was more than pleased to have one up on the office boys. 'Anyway, I heard rumors of what went on in here and from what I see...'� Brian glanced at a couple of the glass cases above the computers, 'it looks like they were true. I also know you guys get information from people in ways that some would call unconventional.'� Brian hoped he wasn't over doing it, but it appeared that good ol' Bud was buying every bit of it.

Bud grunted and shook his head slightly. 'Unconventional? Some call it a hell of a lot worse than that. But whatever, go on... What else did they tell you?'�

'I know you get your information by convincing the suspect that they're telling someone else what you're trying to find out. From what I hear, the suspects think it's someone close to them, but how you manage that, is where they stopped telling me.'�

'Yeah, I'm not surprised,'� Bud said. 'I'm sure there are people out there who would do about anything to know what we really did in here, but our security is tight enough that I'm not too worried about it.'�

Before Brian realized what he was doing, he chuckled and smiled like a fox in a chicken coup, then seeing the look Bud was giving him, he tried to cover it by coughing. He knew Bud Parker wasn't near as dumb as he looked, and he couldn't afford to give him any reason for suspicion.

Bud was watching Brian closely. 'You all right?'�

'Yeah, just got something in my throat. No big deal.'� Brian looked up at Bud, clearing his throat and smiling.

Bud nodded, but continued to look at Brian for a few more seconds. 'Anyway,'� Bud went on, 'it's called intimate imaging or story boarding.'�

'Intimate-'� Brian started.

'I know. I know. It sounds kind of... well kind of pretty for what we do, but it fits good when you think about it. You would be surprised what people are willing to tell someone that they are close to, or someone they think they are going to get a little hanky panky from.'� Brian watched Bud give him a knowing look and smiled.

'Right, but what's the image?'� Brian asked.

'It's kind of a dream program that we feed into their brain and play it like a movie in their minds, over and over until we get what we need. But unlike a movie, the program can modify itself to handle slight changes the suspect may present it.'� Bud put his hands in the wide pockets of his coat and looked down the long room. 'The geeks in the imaging lab will take pictures we get from surveillance, or even from a wallet or purse, and make it look as real as hell. Sometimes they miss minor details, but not too often. It's really amazing what those kids can do with computers. Sometimes we just run the suspect through without an implant to see what their own dreams might reveal, but that usually only works if you get them hooked up right after you remove... well, get them prepped.'�

Brian nodded and then looked toward a red light that had been flashing above one of the tanks a couple of stations down. 'What's that about?'� Brian asked, pointing toward the red flashing light.

Bud turned and looked where Brian was pointing. 'It's a skipper.'� He reached up and squeezed the small black mike attached to his collar. 'Hey Stanley, we have a skipper at station twelve.'�

A moment of static was followed by Stanley's voice. 'Right, Boss, be right there.'�

'A skipper?'� Brian asked.

'Yep, that's what we call them.'�

'That's what you call what?'� Brian asked, looking at workstation twelve.

'That's what we call it when one of the story boards is completely thrown out of whack by the suspect's own images. If a skipper is going to happen, it's usually during the first couple of times through. Come on, I'll show you.'� Bud led Brian over to station twelve.

As they walked towards station twelve, Brain watched Bud suck in his gut and button the middle button on his lab coat. It looked like it could give way again at any second, and Brain guessed Bud only had it buttoned up as a formality of showing the new guy around.

'Wife must have shrunk the damn thing last time she washed it,'� Bud said giving Brian a sideways glance.

They stopped in front of the computer and looked into the glass case where a severed head was suspended in a bluish, jelled liquid. Fifteen or so wires went through rubber gaskets then into the case where they were attached to the cleanly shaven head on surgical steel screws. Small bits of skin and a few red and blue veins hung below the neck, drifting in the jell like seaweed swaying with the currents of the ocean.

'Yep, that's what I thought,'� Bud said, looking at the writing in the corner of the screen. 'We've just started on this guy.'�

'Who is it?'� Brian asked, using a great deal of restraint as he looked at the head. The eyes were darting back and forth and the mouth looked like it was trying to stretch open.

'Joseph Cunningham. Age twenty-two. Wife, no kids. Suspected of drug trafficking. Only this guy is not your stereotypical drug dealer, which made it easier for him to stay below the radar screen. We're almost positive he's our man, but he wouldn't say a word during our,'� Bud held his hands up beside his head and wiggled his index and middle fingers to indicate quotes, 'conventional interrogation sessions.'� Bud watched Joseph trying to focus his eyes through the light blue jell. 'Plus, I think this guy has ties to the Ivankoski family, and getting a little info on the Russian mafia would be a very nice bonus.'�

'Can he see us?'� Brian asked, starting to feel his stomach roll. He'd had a pretty good idea what to expect, and he had seen his fair share of gruesome scenes, but watching Joseph's head floating around in that blue fluid was more than a little unnerving.

'Yeah, take a look at the screen.'� Bud pointed at the terminal sitting on the desk. Brian looked down and saw the blurred image of himself and Bud looking toward the screen. The image jumped and blurred as Joseph moved his eyes.

'Kind of creepy isn't it?'� Bud asked.

'Yeah... sure is,'� Brian said with no real enthusiasm.

'Just be glad we don't have the audio turned up,'� Bud said. 'Hearing what is going through their minds when they're awake would really freak you out.'�

After a moment, Bud went on, 'Everything is recorded on a digital video chip where it can be viewed later to see if we got the information we needed, and it's admissible in court. Closed sessions of course,'� Bud said in a mock hushed tone.

'How often do you check them to see if you got your answer?'� Brian asked.

'Depends. Small time crap like drugs, robbery, corporate dirty dealings, you know, the mamby pamby kind of stuff, we check them every hour or so, but the real time-sensitive ones like kidnapping and terrorism, we assign someone to watch those like a hawk. Neil Timmons is on station three right now monitoring Dadbin Massoud.'� Bud nodded toward the other end of the room. 'Word has it Al-Quida has something big planned for New Year's Eve.'�

'Dadbin Massoud?'� Brain asked sounding confused. 'I thought I read where he was killed in an air strike in northern Iraq over the weekend.'�

Bud smiled. 'Well fortunately only his legs were blown off, and as you can see, how our suspects get around is not all that important around here.'�

'Excuse me guys,'� Stanley Rockport, a man who looked even younger than Brian, said as he pushed past and sat down in the chair in front of the computer. 'Restart it?'� Stanley asked.

'Absolutely,'� Bud said.

'You got it, Boss.'� Stanley pushed a couple of keys, causing Joseph's eyes to mercifully shut and the screen to go blank.

'It blows me away that so many people still refuse to talk when they know they are being held by head investigators,'� Bud said. 'They must realize what the next step is if they don't' talk, but they still claim they don't know a thing.'�

'You think they would be scared shitless,'� Brian said flatly.

'A lot of them are, and I do mean shitless. We've had to clean up untold numbers of messes in the interrogation room, but it's worth every stinking drop of it.'�

They both stood in silence as they watched Stanley continue to tap away on the keyboard.

'Does that ever happen?'� Brian asked. 'I mean, do you ever find out you were wrong, and the suspect really didn't know anything?'�

'Sadly, it does happen,'� Bud said, but he didn't really look too sad about it. 'We call that a civilian casualty.'�

Brian snorted. 'What do you tell the families?'�

'Nothing,'� Bud said. 'We just arrange a fiery car wreck, a boating accident, a plane crash, or something else that makes identification next to impossible. They never suspect.'� Bud looked distant as he fondly remembered some of the ingenious ways they had disposed of past problems.

'And you call that a civilian casualty? Isn't that just candy coating the fact that you are killing innocent people?'� Brian asked a little amused.

Without warning, Bud turned on Brian like a slapped dog. 'Son, this is a war. A war against crime. A war against drugs. A war against terrorism. And when there's war, there are casualties of war!'�

Brain hadn't meant to set Bud off and tried to settle him down. 'Hey Bud, look I'm sorry if-'�

'And look at the crime rate!'� Bud went on, his face turning a shade of red. 'It's down 40% and solved kidnappings are up by 60%. I can't even begin to tell you how many scumbags we have put behind bars for murders that they would have gotten away with for some bullshit technicality. We've taken literally tons of drugs off the street and for every-'� Bud did the quote thing again with his fingers, 'innocent person we kill, we save a thousand lives!'�

Stanley, who had heard all of this a hundred times before, looked back at Brian. 'Don't worry about it, dude. He goes off like that at least once a week. The man is passionate about his work.'� He looked at Bud. 'Aren't you, Boss?'�

'Ah,'� Bud said, throwing his hands up in frustration. 'You punks just never had to experience what I've lived through. You don't know what life is really all about.'�

'Yeah, I know, Boss, and you walked three miles to school every day, bare foot and up hill both ways. I know. Now do you want me to restart the board or not?'� Stanley asked, giving Bud a sly smile.

'Yes, damn it,'� Bud said, taking a deep breath. The red was starting to leave his face, allowing Brian to relax a little. 'I just know that one of these days some bleeding heart liberal is going to try to infiltrate our operation and expose our evil ways to the world and end up killing thousands of people in the process.'�

'And if they do,'� Stanley said, 'you'll sniff 'em out and get the information you want. You always do.'� He turned back around and hit the enter key.

Joseph's head twitched in the case, causing the cluster of wires to jump. The screen transitioned from black, to gray, then to a bright white as the figure of Joseph's wife came into focus. At first, she was nothing more than a shadow then she solidified into a sharp image. Joseph's outstretched arm and hand were visible in the bottom of the screen as the DVC recorder captured every moment from Joseph's perspective.

'Wow,'� Stanley said. 'His wife is pretty hot.'� Kellie stared out at them from the LED screen on the workstation desk, her mouth moving soundlessly as she talked to Joseph.

Bud smiled. 'Give us some audio.'� Stanley flipped a toggle switch, and Kellie's voice spilled from the speakers mounted beside the screen.

'Just tell me where the drug shipment is coming in. You know I won't tell anyone, so it will be just like you never said it.'� there was a brief pause, 'I will definitely make it worth your while, if you know what I mean.'� As Brian, Bud, and Stanley watched, Kellie looked out from the screen and appeared to give them all a very seductive look.

'This is one of Rudy's programs,'� Stanley said staring. 'That guy is amazing.'�

'Keep it quiet, I think he's getting ready to tell her,'� Bud said, listening intently.

Now they could hear Joseph's voice. Inside the glass case, Joseph's eyelids fluttered while his eyes rolled and shifted. 'I don't know, Kellie. I really think it would be better if you didn't know... it would be safer that way.'� Now his other hand came into view, and he held her hand in both of his.

Kellie looked lovingly out of the screen. 'Joseph honey, it won't be dangerous because no one will know, now just tell me where that drug shipment is going to land. If you can just tell me that, you will feel much, much better, and we can quit sitting across the table from each other and climb up on it.'� Kellie undid the top two buttons on her shirt with her free hand then reached out and started stroking Joseph's hands.

'Well...'� Joseph said tentatively.

'Here we go,'� said Stanley.

'Quiet,'� hissed Bud.

'All right, but you can't tell a soul,'� Joseph said.

'You know I won't,'� Kellie replied widening her smile.

There were a couple of seconds of silence then Joseph said, 'Okay, there's a freighter called The Sea Urchin landing at the south Eighty-Ninth Street pier Friday at 1:00 AM. There will be twenty-five hundred kilos of hash on board hidden in coffee crates.'�

They heard Joseph let out a deep sigh, like he really did feel better for sharing his secret. 'Now what were you saying about climbing on the table?'� Joseph asked. His hands disappeared from the screen, and the view changed as Joseph stood up. Kellie started licking her lips again and proceeded to undo the rest of her buttons.

'Beautiful!'� Bud yelled. 'Did you get that Stanley?'�

'You know it's true, Boss.'�

'Great. Unplug him, and get the station ready.'�

'But I thought you wanted to try to find out if this guy has mob ties,'� Stanley said looking back at Bud.

'Yeah, I know, but that is only a hunch of mine, and the boys in corporate said there's a guy in the holding room we have to get in the tank ASAP. He's claiming he has no idea how a bunch of bomb-making equipment got in his apartment.'�

Stanley looked back at the screen to see Kellie in the process of climbing up on the table. 'Hey Boss, are you sure we need to-'�

'Yes, you damn pervert,'� Bud said smiling.

'You're the boss, Boss.'� Stanley flipped several switches, and the screen went black again. Inside the case, the blue jell was draining out through a pipe making a glugging noise like liquid pouring from an overturned milk jug. Joseph's head moved down with the level of the fluid until the stub of his neck rested on the bottom of the case, and his forehead pressed against the glass.

'See what a beautiful system this is Steve?'� Bud asked beaming.

'Yeah, beautiful,'� Brian said, using every bit of restraint in his body to remain composed.

'Oh, come on now, son. You'll get used to it. There would have been ten thousand kids affected by those drugs, and you just witnessed a way to stop it.'�

Behind them, Stanley removed the wires from the lifeless head and then used something that looked like a cordless drill to remove the screws. When all the screws were removed, he lifted the head out of the tank and laid it on a stainless steel cart.

Stanley wheeled the cart past Brain and Bud. On the cart, Joseph's dead mouth was opening and closing like a large fish lying on a cleaning table. The eyes were half closed and rolled back in the head so only the whites showed. Blue jelly was slowly sliding off the face and onto the cart in wet splats.

A shout came from the other end of the room as Neil Timmons announced that he had the location of the New Year's Eve attack. 'Fantastic!'� Bud yelled, as he and Stanley jogged toward station three. 'Contact the NSA and...'�

Brian couldn't make out the rest of what Bud was yelling and right now, it didn't really matter. What mattered now was how he was going to get his job done and get out of this damn place. He was good at what he did, but even better than being good was being lucky. Lucky, as in the storage closet outside the lab wasn't latched, so disposing of Steve Williamson's body was even easy than he planned. However, lucky or not, it was only a matter of time before someone found the body and raised the alarm.

Brian put his hand on his side, felt the reassuring lump under his coat, and smiled. He glanced toward station three just in time to see Bud turn away from him, say something to Stanley and then talk into the mike on his collar. Brian jerked his hand away from his chest. He didn't know if Bud was watching him or not, and now wasn't the time to get paranoid. If he could just get Bud into his office alone...

Bud and Stanley were now walking back towards Brian, talking in hushed tones and wearing serious faces. When they were about ten feet away, Bud produce a wide grin. 'We stopped another attack Steve,'� Bud said. 'Son of a bitch was planning on blowing up a Wal-Mart. Not that one less Wal-Mart would be all that bad, but it's all those women and children that would have gone up with it that would have been the real kicker.'�

'Yeah, that's great,'� Brian said, not sounding as sincere as what he wanted.

Stanley walked past Brian and pushed the steel cart, with Joseph's head on it, about twenty feet to an access door built in the wall. The door was labeled in large black letters: Incinerator. He pulled it open and pushed the cart up next to the opening. Using what looked like a large BBQ fork, Stanley guided the head off the table and into the opening. It disappeared, soundlessly at first, then a bang... bang.. BANG belched out of the opening as Joseph's head bounced off the steel sides of the incinerator chute then hit the bottom.

Brain jumped at the sound of the last bang, and Bud looked at him with narrowed eyes. 'What's wrong Steve? Something got you a little jumpy?'�

'Ah, no. Nothing. I guess all this is just getting to me a little more than I thought.'� Brian produced a very unconvincing laugh. If they suspected him of anything, it may not go smooth, and things not going smooth could lead to mistakes, and mistakes could lead to a very unpleasant results for him.

'Right,'� Bud said, still staring at him. Brian didn't say a word. He couldn't tell if Bud was contemplating a call to security or thinking about today's lunch menu. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, a genuine smile spread across Bud's face, and he put his large arm around Brian's shoulders. 'What do you say we get the boring stuff out of the way?'� Bud asked, leading Brian toward his office. 'We have a whole mess of statistics in my office that I'm sure you would be interested in.'�

Perfect Brian thought. His heart was now pounding his chest, but it wasn't for the fear of being found out, it was the rush he always felt right before the kill. 'Sounds like a great idea Bud.'�


#
'Well, how was your day?'� Jill asked. Bud sat down at the dinner table as his wife, a rather heavyset woman with short blond hair, set a plate of steaming spaghetti in front of him.

'Not bad,'� Bud said. We stopped a terrorist attack and got the location of a huge shipment of hash that was coming in this week.'�

'That's wonderful honey,'� Jill said as she sat down beside him.

'Yeah, and I had this guy come in from corporate today. Turns out he was-'� Bud was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the front door and looked around.

'Well, aren't you going to get that?'� Jill said sharply.

'I-'� Bud started. Knock knock knock.

'Answer the door Bud. Answer the damn door!'� Jill was suddenly screaming at him. Then as Bud watched in horror, her eyes bulged out of her head so far that they pushed her glasses off her face and into the spaghetti sauce with a wet splat. 'Answer the doooooor!'� Jill screamed again, drawing out the word door until it sounded like a howl. This time one of her eyes actually popped out of her head and hung from the socket by long white strands.

'No!'� Bud screamed.

#
Brian laughed as he watched Bud's eyes shoot open. He continued to tap the barrel of his gun on the glass case where Bud's severed head bobbed unceremoniously in the blue jell. 'What's wrong Bud? Having a nightmare?'� Brian had been having a good time watching Bud on the computer screen, but thought it best to wake him up before he had a chance to blab his opinion about who the guy from corporate really was. He didn't know if the scene was being recorded or not, but there was no sense in taking any chances.

Brian pointed his gun at the case and put a bullet through Bud's head. The glass exploded in a spray of sparkling fragments and blue liquid. He knew he shouldn't have taken the time to force Stanley to hook Bud's head up to the interrogation equipment, but he couldn't resist the chance to give Bud a taste of his own medicine.

He pushed Stanley's limp body off the chair and shot a hole through the blood-covered computer Stanley had been working on, eliminating any record of Bud's dream and where Ivankoski's drug shipment was coming in. Smoke trailed up from the end of the gun's silencer and joined the blue haze floating just below the ceiling.

Brian surveyed the room. Men lay in various places, sprawled on the floor and across smoldering computer equipment; all the glass cases where shattered and blue jell dripped from the tables. 'Yes sir, Mr. Ivankoski is going to give me one hell of a bonus for this,'� Brain said with a smirk as he put his gun back in his leather holster.

He was turning towards the door when he felt something tickle his throat causing him to cough. Suddenly he found himself in the throws of a violent coughing fit suited for a man in the late stages of emphysema. His face turned a purple shade of red as he doubled over and put his hands on his knees. His coughs turned to a gargling, choking sound and then thick blue fluid erupted from his throat like blueberry vomit.

#
'I knew it!'� Bud proclaimed as he and Stanley listened to Brian's voice coming out of the speakers. 'Now burn a disk of that and send it over to the DA's office. I'm sure they will be happy to know we have one of the Ivankoski family in the tank.'� On the screen, Brian was flopping around in a large blue puddle like a huge fish.

Stanley flipped a couple of switches causing the screen to go black while inside the tank Brian opened his eyes. 'I don't know how you do it Boss, but I sure am glad your people-reading skills are as good as they are.'� He turned in his chair to look at Bud. 'If you hadn't told the security guys to be waiting in your office that guy might have done just what his dream played out.'�

'Well Stanley, the man just didn't look like the west coast corporate type, you know, that red hair and everything.'� Bud looked completely impressed with himself.

Stanley turned back to the computer, punched a few more keys and then reached down to catch the disk that slid out of a tray just below the keyboard. 'That's a real shame about that Williamson guy from corporate though,'� Stanley said and handed the disk toward Bud.

'That it is Stanley, that it is.'� Bud stood silent for moment then took the disk from Stanley's hand. 'But you'll have to admit... the boy died for one hell of a worthy cause.'�

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