The watcher lurked in the shadows of the alley, its light unkempt mane
lending it a somewhat dishevelled appearence. Across the street an
apartment block sparkled in the afternoon sun, it had only recently been
completed in a prestigious rebuilding program. Like a monstrous spider's
web, it was a shimmering lattice of glass and high tensile cables. 

	Patience was everything, the tall rangy wolf had been waiting all
day for Dangerfield to emerge since he'd arrived home in a private limo
earlier that morning. It glanced up at the pinnacle of the building, that
was where it had to go and soon Slater would be wanting results. It
watched the flow of traffic go past the building, noting with cold
interest when a white stretch limo pulled out of the traffic and parked in
front of the entrance. Minutes later, it saw Dangerfield exit the building
with his ever present bodyguards and enter the limo which then drove off.
The wolf bulged and twisted, passing through the hulking Hispo and Crinos
forms, and finally dwindling once more to a man, with ratty blond hair and
three days growth of stubble dressed in a battered suit and a trenchcoat. 

	"Okay Dangerfield, lets see what you've got up there." he said with
a faint smile Hefting a worn briefcase, Fargo stepped out into the
bustling street. 

	***********************************************

	"Good morning Sirs, how may I help you?!" Janice beamed at the two
figures. 

	"We'd like to see Mr. Slater ASAP." Mackie tried to smile, but it
was more a grimace. Dark shadows under his eyes spoke of a restless night,
and his patience was being strained more by the minute. 

	The secretary looked up at both him and the taller Garou, and
noting their grim resolution immediately reached for the intercom. 

	"Sorry to disturb you Sir, but there's a Mr. Stengovich and a Mr.
Jivarp to see you. They don't have an appointment but they claim it's
urgent." 

	The reply was the door to the executive suite being thrown open,
and a worried looking Alex Slater stood framed in the door. 

	"Well don't just stand there, come on in! Janice if anyone phones
etc, I'm not in!!" 

	"Very well Sir."

	Alex showed them mto the plush executive suite and closed the
padded soundproof door behind him. Computers chattered away to themselves
in the corner, while on the table, a thick wad of official documents were
being sifted through. 

	"What's on your minds boys?" 

	Mackie took a deep breath, "Only a flying visit, we found what's
going down at MAPA." 

	"Okay Mackie, have a seat son." Alex motioned for them to sit in
the leather, wing back armchairs. 

	"The equipment stored at MAPA is for military grade deep psyche
implants. GENOM's got some form of mass mind control plan worked out,
using Rik Dangerfield as their agent......" Mackie told him. 

	"You mean the geek in the Spandex?!" Alex interrupted. 

	"The very same. Yeah, where was I..oh yeah, the primary implant is
done at a subliminal level through his records and we think that specific
commands are added at his gigs. But that's just a theory, as yet we don't
have any proof, but it looks more than likely. The other reason we came
here is someone I care for's been affected, and I was wondering whether
you could possibly help?" 

	Alex smiled avuncularly, "I ain't going to promise anything," he
drawled, "but I'll do my best. At least we know what our friends in GENOM
are doing, but that ain't much of a consolation to you is it kid?" 

	As the pair made their excuses and left after a few minutes, Alex
looked out at the GENOM tower in the near distance, "Scratch one to the
good guys Wyrmspawn!" he snarled as he pulled the blind down on the scene. 

	************************************************

	Nene awoke with a whimper in her own bed, she had been hungover
before, but this was something else. She curled into a little ball of
pain, as her whole body felt like it was burning up. She staggered to the
bathroom twice to be sick and the second time, she almost didn't make it.
She lay on the bathroom floor sobbing for what seemed like hours. Finally
finding the strength to stand, she did her best to tidy herself up, before
stumbling back to her bed and falling asleep almost instantly. As she came
round for the second time, she made out a pair of worried dark eyes
looking at her from within a frame of black hair. 

	"Hi where'd you come from." she slurred.

	"Christ Nene, what have you been doing to yourself?!" Mackie's face
showed his concern, as he sat on the end of the bed. 

	"I don't remember, the last thing I recall is the end of the gig"
Nene sniffled, "then waking up back here." 

	"I've been here for two hours, it's a good job you gave me the
spare key. I put you back to bed, and tidied things up. I also phoned up
the AD-Police to tell them that you probably won't be able to make the
night shift tonight." 

	"Thanks, l don't know what I would've done if you hadn't....." she
suddenly went bright red, " ...I didn't crash on top of the bed did I?"
Nene asked sweetly, realising that all that was protecting her modesty was
an oversize T-shirt. 

	"'Fraid so." Mackie replied, as Nene avoided his gaze.
		
	"I'm sorry." she said in a small voice, "I must look a real wreck." 

	"Nah, c'mon let's get you cleaned up, do you think you can make it
to the bathroom. " 

	"I'll try." Nene pushed back the covers and got unsteadily to her
feet, swaying slightly as she tried to make sure that her sleeping garment
covered everything. 

	"Oh come here." Mackie muttered, bending down he scooped Nene off
her feet and gently carried her into the bathroom. 

	"Ohh! Why thanks...." she purred into his chest. 

	"If you need me I'll be right outside." 

	Quarter of an hour later, Nene reappeared and weaved her way back
to bed, and propped herself up with the pillows. Mackie popped his head
round the kitchen door and grinned . 

	"That looks better, can I get you anything?" 

	"Uh-huh! Would tea and a chocolate biscuit be out of the question?"
she asked. 

	"As long as it doesn't ruin that lovely figure of yours!" 

	"Why thank you kind Sir...." Nene smiled for the first time that
day. 

	"That's more like it!" he tried not to look at her too hard. Even
tired and a little under the weather she was still really very attractive,
especially when she smiled. It seemed that when she did, her whole face
lit up with an inner radience, that was just infectious. 

	Mackie came through shortly with a mug and a plate of biscuits and
sat down on the edge of the bed. Nene scoffed the biscuits within minutes,
but took longer over her tea. When she had finished, she glanced up and
saw Mackie stifling a yawn. 

	"What's the matter Mackie, tired?" 

	"Yeah a bit, didn't sleep too well." he replied. 

	"Too much partying with Jan and the guys huh?" she asked, putting
the mug and plate on the table beside her. 

	"No, I was worried sick about you!" Mackie countered.
	
	"You were?!" 

	"Yeah! I thought you'd been hurt or something, I was up all night
trying to call to see if you were okay!" he admitted. 

	"Aww that's sweet of you, c’mere!" Nene interrupted. She lea't
forward and wrapped her arms around his neek. Pulling him closer, she
sighed and kissed him deeply, tongue slowly lingering over his lips.
Mackie tensed momentarily, heart hammering, but it only lasted an instant,
cradling her in his arms he returned the embrace. As their caresses became
more passionate, he felt his cheeks getting damp, and her chest heaving
against his own. When their lips finally parted, he saw silent tears
coursing down Nene's pretty features, staining her T-shirt. Smiling
softly, he gently brushed them away with his hand. 

	"Hey what's this for?" he asked, slightly bemused. 

	"....I....I never had the nerve to tell you how much I cared before 
you met Juliette."” she said softly," “then it was too late, you’d found
someone else who loved you and I....."” she started to sob softly as she
clung to him. 

	Mackie looked stunned, all the times she had volunteered to help
him in techmcal support suddenly took on a completely new light. "All
these years," he shook his head sadly, "and I never saw
it......I'm......I'm sorry Nene, I've been a real selfish bastard, I don't
deserve someone to care for me.”
	
	"No, don't say that!” Nene squeezed him tighter. "I took you for
granted, I thought you'd always be there." 

	"I'm here now, and I m not going to make the same mistake twice."
he replied, holding her close. 

	Nene said nothing, but the smile on her tear-stained face spoke
volumes. 

	************************************************

	The Garou met in Jan-Anders flat, this was less of a social affair
but more of a war council. Jan-Anders sat in one of the armchairs in the
living room, glowering at a bottle of Absolut. The other pack members were
dotted around the same area, trying to control the Ahrounts increasingly
fraying temper. Finally the door com broke the atmosphere. Jan Anders was
on his feet and at the door before anayone could stop him. He yanked it
open to reveal a surprisingly calm Mackie.
		
	"Sorry I'm late, I kinda lost track of time a little." he smiled
apologetically. 

	"We got yer vid-message, how's Nene?" the Garou asked, as Mackie
walked through into the living room.
		
        "Asleep, the poor girl was totally...." his reply was cut short by
a yawn. 

        "Which is what you should be doing." Jan-Anders said firmly, "Yer
gonna be use to no fucker in that state, c'mon try and get some shuteye." 

	"Yeah okay...." Mackie relented. "If you decide on anything major
let me know when you can!" he called to the assembly, as he entered the
bedroom, "Catch you guys later!" 

	After a few minutes, having decided to let Mackie sleep, three
figures headed out of the building and towards the private car park.
Jan-Anders watched them leave, they were all worried about Nene's memory
lapse. From the concert ending at around eleven thirty the previous
evening, until the early hours of the following morning she could've been
doing anything. The other Garou had headed towards MAPA, hoping to find
out about anything of her movements that evening. He had given himself the
onerous task of telling Sylia what was going on. 

	He headed to the vid phone, and was about to dial the number when
he realised that the Ladies 633 building was only just around the block.
Dumping the phone, he scrawled a quick note to Mackie in case he woke up
in his abscence, grabbed his jacket and headed out

	Sylia took a sip at her coffee and sat by her laptop, jacket
folded over the top of a nearby chair. Looking at the day's figures,
business was on the upswing, it was nowhere near her actual income, but it
was always nice to see. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at
the door, closing the lid on her computer, she headed to the front door.
Activating the outside camera, she saw it was the towering form of the
Ahroun. 

	"Come on in," she said as she opened the door, "I have the nasty
suspicion however that this isn't going to be a social call." 

	"I wish it were," he replied, "Sylia yer'd better sit down, we've
got ourselves a major problem. For starters I think Nene can remember
seeing me in the high-speed shred and dice form, which is not good. Had
she told you anything about that night?" 

	"All she told me, was that her sensors picked out an organic form
approximately three and half meters in height. She supposed that it might
have been a new type of biomech, but seemed to be reluctant to go into any
details, why do you think she’s immune to Delirium also?" 

	"From the way she was looking at me tho' I don't think she was
under at that point. At the moment there's a bigger problem with regard to
her...." 

	"What else could be the matter?" 

	Sylia took the bombshell with her usual calm reserve, the only
outward sign of stress was a momentary frown which clouded her normally
placid features, contrasting markedly with Jan- Anders' which if possible
had become more glowering, eyes gleaming ferally. 

	"Jan, you’re shifting...." 

	"Huh? sorry " he took a few deep breaths and tried to rein in his
anger. He had unconsciously shifted to Glabro, the near man form, whilst
relating the events of the past forty-eight hours. It still took a good
few minutes for him to regain his human aspect. 

	"Sorry Sylia, I should keep a better lid on my temper." he
apologised. 

	"Don't worry," Sylia looked at the Garou with admiration, "from
what you've told me about your tribe, you seem remarkably self-possessed
for a 'deranged berserker'. Besides you don't have the advantage I do in
that department, if it can be called that." The last words were spoken
with a sad smile. 

	"I'm not usually this bad tho'," Jan-Anders stared at the steaming
mug of black coffee in his hands that Sylia had brought him, "I guess it's
coz' I'm worried about Nene." 

	"You really care about her don't you?" 

	"Yeah, partly coz' I want her and Mackie to be happy," he
momentarily brightened, "and well she's such a sweet kid, she still seems
so innocent. I dunno, I just want to shield her from a lot of the shit in
this world, is that such a crime?" 

	"No, it's nice to see that there are still people who care." 

	"You must be about the first to think that," Jan-Anders replied a
touch bitterly, "I keep feeling like I'm prehistoric y'know, like l've
outlived my purpose." 

	"I can't say that I know how you feel," Sylia sat by him on the
sofa and leant towards him slightly, "but youtre in a position to make a
difference, that's why you're still around. For the years after Mackie
left, I often wondered why I carried on, but if I didn't, who else would
stand up against GENOM? Now I'm glad I did, because I'm no longer alone. " 

	Jan-Anders looked at her intently, was she being deliberately
ambiguous? But as usual, Sylia radiated absolute control. Trying to read
this woman is impossible, he thought to himself as she took another sip of
her espresso. 

	"So what do you think is the best course of action?" Sylia broke
the silence. 

	"Well, part of me wants to razor dance on Dangerfield's corpse,"
the Ahroun replied coldly, "but that isn't going to help Nene. I'd suggest
keeping a close eye on her until the lab boys find a way of cleaning the
shit out of her head." 

	"How's Mackie taking it?" 

	"Pretty good so far," he said simply, "he's getting some much
needed shuteye. The poor kid was up all last night worrying about Nene. I
think he really does love her. From what I've seen, I think the feeling's
mutual." 

	"I hope that nothing happened last night," Sylia sighed, "Mackie's
been through enough without having another loved one hurt." 

	Jan-Anders hung his head, "Listen, I'm really sorry about dumping
this shit on you, just when things were going okay." 

	"Don't be," Sylia laid an elegant hand on his knee, and squeezed
gently, "it's best that it comes out in the open. A threat that's
recognised, is one that can be dealt with. If the worst happens, please
don't do anything rash, you're not immortal remember." 

	"Near enough as dammit." he replied softly. 

	Sylia looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" Knowing that she wasn't
going to like what she heard. 

	"Before the Apocalypse, a few dozen were chosen from every tribe
and blessed with the mark of the Phoenix. They were to sleep through the
so-called final days and emerge to protect Gaia when it was all over." the
Garou explained softly, "They are the Chosen, of which I'm one. I can't
age Sylia, neither can the rest of my pack. The only way I can die is if I
fall in battle, and even then I'll be reborn to fight again. It!s what I
do best, after all I've been doing it for millenia, in one form or
another." 

	Sylia looked at him pityingly, suddenly aware of the immense
weariness that lay behind his voice, and the proud loneliness of his
existence. She felt humbled, her own crusade was no more than a full stop
in a war from the annals of antiquity, and the fact that this holy warrior
trusted her, or was it something more? 

	Jan-Anders suddenly looked up at the clock by Sylia's bed as if
he'd suddenly remembered something. 

	"I gotta go," he said softly, taking her hand, "I got someone
coming with more info on Dangerfield and his little game. By the way
thanks."
	
	"What for?" Sylia asked. 

	"For listening," the Garou paused as if lost in thought, "for
caring. There ain't too many people like you left." 

	Sylia watched him through the Venetian blinds, as he headed out
into the gathering twilight. Once he was out of sight, she lay on her bed
with her eyes closed trying to catalogue the emotions that were racing
through her head. Why did she feel this way towards him? On the face of
things they were so dissimilar, but underneath? He'd lost his family when
he was young and was driven inside to lengths that most people would find
fanatical. Sylia paused in her musings, a knowing smile blossoming, that
was why she cared, looking into his soul was like staring into a mirror,
she knew him. 

	***********************************************

	The bar was a glitzy affair that catered for the rich, all neon
lighting, chrome and overpriced liquor. Away from the usual clientele, a
group of three figures sat huddled around the table, which was becoming
littered with empty bottles and glasses.
	
	"Great, just fucking great!" Axel swore into his beer. 

	"I'm telling you, ve hav three or four vitnesses who say they saw
her go backstage avter the gig!" the usually quiet Olaf reiterated. 

	"If that bastard has done anything to her, he's sushi'" Vikky
snarled revealing already elongated eye teeth. 

	"Yeah, the problem is who's going to tell Jan?" Axel winced, "C'mon
we all know what he's like, if it's small, cute and innocent hets a
gonner'" 

	"Can you blame him?!!' Vikky interrupted heatedly, "From what I've
heard from Jan and Mackie she's worth it." 

	"Speaking ov vhich, Mackie ought to know vhat's going on too, he is
closest to her avter all. 

	"Yeah, good point, let's get outta this dump and do some more
spadework, huh?" Axel finished his beer, grimaced, and looked at the
bottle dubiously, "Where do they get this shit from?! I'd sooner lick the
sweat off a dead Spiral’s nuts!" 

	***********************************************

	Jan-Anders opened the door to his flat to be greeted by a manilla
wrapped parcel lying at his feet with a note attached. Typical of Fargo,
he thought grimly, get the job done and fuck the consequences, never stay
around to follow things up. Well isn't that a Ragabash all over, he
concluded, sneak around and don't attract attention. He wondered if Sylia
realised how long she had been interacting with Garou, and with the Slater
Corporation in particular. He scooped up the parcel, and went to check on
Mackie. Poking his head into the spare bedroom he saw the sheets heaving
rhythmically. Good, the kid's still asleep, he thought, probably just as
well. 

	Returning to the living room, he took a slug out of the bottle of
Absolut before examining the package. Unwrapping it, he could see that it
was a standard five inch vid disk that was unmarked. Putting it aside he
examined the note attached to it: 

	"Laments- yuf,

	I liberated this disk from Dangerfield's flat earlier today. The
guy in the video is a local big-time dealer, calls himself "Green". He
hangs out in "Le Blue Smoke" jazz bar in District 10, probably filmed it
himself, the sick motherfucker. After seeing this I felt like smoking him
myself, but I know you'll probably get a bigger kick out of it. Just make
sure he screams. 

    	Fargo (Prowls-in-alleyways)."

	Jan-Anders picked up the disk and examined it closely. He was
half-tempted to destroy it, then the person in question without further
excuse. Fargo must have seen a lot of shit in his line of work, he
reckoned, so anything that gets him in the mood to party must be bad.
However the Hand never killed indiscriminately, they avenged. He knelt in
front of the vid-screen, fed the disk into the playback machine and
thumbed the play button viciously. 

	As the flickering, grainy images came up on screen, he watched
with disbelief then mounting horror at the squealing, sickening images
that crowded his consciousness. The nauseating display of debauched female
flesh was not the insane product of some lewd director’s artifice, but
reality. Knowing that Nene was probably somewhere in there made it worse.
Blinking back tears of helpless rage he shut off the player wishing
desperately that he could erase the images that were etched on his memory.
Green would die, slowly and painfully then Dangerfield afterwards. He
slowly stood and headed stiffly towards the bedroom, Mackie wouldn’t
forgive him if he wasn’t told about this. He still felt sick to the core
though. 

	*******************************************

	Dangerfield eased himself into an settee, a frown creasing his
clean-cut features, where could he have put that damn disk. Nevermind, he
thought absently, Green’ll have copies. He didn’t exacly approve of
Green’s penchant of fucking and filming everything in sight, just in case
he got caught in the picture, it would provide the perfect blackmail
material. He had left with a couple of peroxide bimbettes before the party
could get into full swing, and had had a more intimate soiree back at his
pad. Still each to his own, he thought, reaching for the syringe. The
annoying buzz of the phone interrupted his thoughts, he swiped the
receiver and gazed at the picture that appeared on screen. It was a the
image of a grey haired man of oriental extraction, in his middle fifties,
with piercing dark eyes. 

	"“Well, well if it in'’t God himself"” Dangerfield chuckled," “twhat
do I owe the pleasure of this call?" 

	“To you maybe,” the other replied, “I heard that your concertnt
according to plan. I’m moving ahead with the schedule. I want everything
to be in place before the Vision Trust lineup.”

	“Look old man, this is my show, whee the hell do you get off
calling the shots!” Dangerfield asked angrily; 

	“Because I made you. I brought you out of the sewers, and I can put
you back there just as easily, so don’t get smart with me whelp. If it
hadn’t been for Genaros records needing a pin-up boy to sell its product,
you would be still touring the karoke bars by now. Just remember that
Rik.”

	“Okay,okay, so whaddya want!?”

	More concerts, this time with at LEAST a weeks notice between
tickets going on sale and the event itself. So that more.......useful
messages can be spread to the flock.” his smile was remeniscent of a
hunting Great White that had just scented blood. 

	“Okay, I’ll get in touch with the promotors and see what I can do.
Can’t promise anything tho’, I’ll just try my best okay!” Dangerfield
replied a touch nervously. 

	“I know you’ll do your best Rik, I’ll be in touch later, have a
good evening;” At which point the older man hung up. 

	“God, that bastard gives me the creeps!!” Dangerfield swore under
his breath, reaching for the needle once more. 

	***********************************************

	Nene ran through the darkening forest, her legs felt as though
they had lead weights attached to them. Her muscles burned with the
exertion, she couldn’t let it catch her, she just couldn’t. Her bare feet
were sending needles of pain through her, bare skin muddy and scratched
from where brambles had pierced her in her headlong flight. Red hair
flowing in her wake she hurdled a fallen branch. Around her sunlight
attempting to pierce the canopy of trees cast dappled shadows all around.
Behind her, her persuer wouldn’t rest, she could hear it’s feral breath at
her heels, she just had to wake up. She stumbled and fell headlong,
throwing her hands forwards she tried to cushion herself from the incoming
impact. Closing her eyes, she felt the jolt, and the feel....... of the
bedroom carpet under her fingers. 

	Raising a trembling hand to wipe the sweat away from her eyes, she
glanced up at the clock, 5.02 pm the glowing figures read. God, she still
felt so tired. Why won’t that dream just leave me be! Her pretty features
hardening into a scowl. She had been having similar ones for the past two
years now and thought she had finally got rid of them after conselling.
After that night at Chromium Heaven, they had returned with a vengence.
She was going to have to tell Sylia what she saw before long, but what if
she didn’t believe her? Having browsed through occult and folklore texts
at the main library she was pretty sure of what she had seen, a werewolf.
Whatever it was it was certainly unlike ANY Boomer she had ever come
across. 

	Padding through into the kitchen, she fixed herself something to
eat then sat down in front of the TV. Trying to calm her still rapid pulse
rate she idlely flicked threough the channels, looking for something to
watch. Finally alighting on one of the news networks she distractedly
waded through the day’s events. She was about to flick to something more
interesting when one of the articles attracted her attention. 

	“These scenes were captured today at the home of Dr. Paul Rogers,
self-styled inventor of ‘reverse-enzyme’ technology, as he was arrested on
charges of fraud and tax evasion.” the newscaster droned. The scene cut to
a large mansion, where police were leading a figure away into custody, who
was shrouded by a large towel “The scientific community have already
disowned him after a medical research paper revealed, that his so-called
“miracle diet” was no more effective than traditional low calorie
products.  Already several lawsuits are being filed by failed dieters, who
claim that due to his fraudulent misrepresentations, they actually put on
weight whilst using his products. More on that in our ‘Lifestyle’ program
at ten........”

	Nene switched off the TV with a disgusted sigh. So much for her
wonderful weight control plan. Unconsciously she stepped into the bathroom
and weighed herself. Either her scales were broken or she was the same
weight. Perhaps it was that exercise program that Linna had developed for
me, she thought eyeing herself critically, because there’s more muscle
than I remember seeing before. She sighed which turned into a lengthy
yawn. She needed sleep badly, whatever happened at the concert must’ve
really burned her out; That’s the last time I get so drunk, I can’t
remember what I did, she thought firmly, as she climbed between the
sheets. 

	***********************************************

	"Vell ve hav sum good news at least,"” Olaf smiled crookedly as the
threesome made their way towards Jan-Ander’s apartment,"“I talked to one
of the security people, and he said that he saw one ov the roadies carry a
cute redhead to a van and drive off.”" 

	"“When was that that"” Vikky aske d '“C’mon pooch, wrck tfeelittle
brain of yours!" 

	Olaf gave her a whithering glance, unlike the others he was a
lupus. Whereas most Garou were born of human parents, his had been wolves,
and his lack of sophistication was still a point of amusement amongst his
packmates. “Shortly after the concert ended,” he replied thinking hard,
human concepts of time still seemed so artificial to him, “that vould be
around tvelve or so......”

	“Give that doggy a chew bone!” Vikky grinned as Olaf looked up to
heaven, a “why-me” expression on his craggy features. 

	“That means that nothing too bad could’ve happened to Nene right?”
Axel had been uncharacteristically silent for the walk back. Get of Fenris
mentality was designed for linear problem solving, if something annoyed
you, hit it repeatedly until it stopped moving. Unfortunately this sort of
approach was not what was required. “Did anybody find out anything about
what happened back stage?”

	“Weeellll, it seems like there was some kind of Dangertwat party
with a LOT of illegal shit,” Vikky said sullenly, “probably Nene took
something she shouldn’t, crashed out, and Rik being the charmer that he is
got rid of her before she could ruin the party.”

	“How the hell did yer find that out?” Axel asked incredulously. 

	“Oh I just used my feminine charm on one of the security apes, he
seemed to be very easy to persuade.” Vikky fluttered her eyelashes
mockingly. The others tried to repress the grins they felt forming,
imagining Vikky being coy and sweet was just too much. 

	“Could he walk after you used your charm though!” Axel pointed out. 

	“Why Axel!” she repled with pretend offence, “You make me sound
like I’m some kind of ball-breaker. Nah he was just a grunt, wouldn’t want
to waste my boots on him. I’m saving that for Mr; Dangerfield.” The others
winced, almost feeling sorry for him, Furies had some pretty fiendish ways
of dealing with men like him. 

	“Uh, that’s another thing,” Olaf changed the subject as he
remembered a detail he’d previously overlooked, “Rik left with two vomen
just avtervards, security said he was heading home for a private bash.”

	“So who the hell was throwing the party if Rik wasn’t there!?Vikky
burst out. 

	“Some guy who was a friend of his. That vas all I could find out.”

	“Well whoever he is, he’s toast!!” Vikky threatened as they entered
the apartment building. 

	***********************************************