 
The Quartet

Jace

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Smashwords Edition Copyright 2018 Pamela Joan Barlow Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Present day and place

Monday May 31st

10:38 p.m.

Charity Kendall Hospital oncology nursing floor setting

City of Kendall in US State of Florida

Warm temperatures and clear bright sunshine

The closed door sounded with a knock and opened. The bright hall light crept into the room as the wheels squeaked on the rolling cart over the hard tile.

A female appeared in the archway of the private hospital room with a smile and a nod. "Hey, kid."

"Hey!" The child wore a leg cast with a set of sticky patches of smiley faces and colorful handwritten signatures of his school friends, reading a comic book inside his hospital bed, smiling at the pictures.

"Clifford, right, kid?" She moved with a smile and an object into the private hospital room on the oncology floor.

Clifford looked up with a puzzled brow to see her. "Ya know me?"

"Chart, kid," She moved forward and thumbed back over a collar bone to the clip board on the door slot with a smile and an object.

"O yeah," He giggled with a smile, returning back to read the comic book inside the hospital bed.

"Cookies, kid?" She moved closer, extending a plate of freshly baked cookies.

"Cookies!" His hand, the plate, and her fingers reached and intersected as he yelled. "Ouch, hot." He dropped the cookie onto the hospital tray beside the comic book and cuddled, rubbing an aching hand, staring at her with a confused brow.

"Hot plate, kid," She sat a milk carton next to the plate of cookies with a grin and a giggle.

"No, your hand's hot." He cuddled and rubbed the aching fingers with a confused brow.

She back stepped from the bed with a puzzled brow, wearing a pink and white uniform from the hospital supply closet, "Hurt, kid?"

"Naw, stings a little." He reached and grabbed one of the cookies from the heated plate, eating and chewed the warm dough as she reached for his leg caste. He mouth-spat a set of cookie crumbs over the blanket, "Don't. Hurts from the shots."

"What happened? Did your mom hit ya, kid?" She chuckled with a nod.

He chewed with a sour frown. "My mom's sweet and nice. She'd never do that. She loves me."

"Ya got pushed out a tree, kid?" She sniggered with a grin.

He pointed up to the ceiling with a nod and a smile. "No. Jumped high up, way up on my bike, smashed the bone," he pointed down to his leg caste with a grin and a giggle. "Here! Didn't cry. My mom fainted. My dad grabbed me. So cool, bone sticking out. Blood on my leg, me, my dad, the car, the floor, everywhere. So cool! Can't wait to show my pals at school." He bit into the cookie and chewed with a grin of falling food particles also.

"Good adventure, kid?" She smiled with a nod.

"Kid!" He chewed with a sour frown. "Ya talk funny."

"Parents, kid?" She turned and scanned his empty hospital room.

He shook his skull with a smile. "Told them to stay home! Not scared! My mom cried. Can't stand that. Girls. Just a bone. Told my dad to stay with my mom. I'm brave and cour...age...ous. I'm ten years old going to the fifth grade. Afraid of nothin' like ghosts, witches, or ugly nurses," he giggled, spitting more cookie crumbles on his gown, the tray, and the bed sheets.

"Tough, kid, ya know big old hospitals like this one is haunted with souls of the dead?" She turned and chuckled with a nod into his smile.

He shook his skull with a grin. "Won't work? Not scared." He giggled with a smile, spitting out more cookie crumbles from a set of laughing lips.

"Fearless, kid," She smiled with a nod.

He slapped a chest with a smile and a nod. "Yeah, that's me, the fearless Clifford Milton Burton, the third," he chewed the cookie with a laugh.

"Moving along, kid," She back stepped with a smile and a nod from his hospital bed and backed up into the quiet and empty hallway.

"Good night, lady." Clifford Milton Burton, the third smiled and chewed the cookie.

The door closed in front of her face.

She turned and moved the squeaky cart down to the next hospital patient room with a smile and a snigger of delight.
Tuesday June 1st

2:31 a.m.

Home of Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV

One Coral Lane of City of Coral Beach in US State of Florida

Master bedroom setting

Waning moon, warm temperatures with cloudy night sky

"Cliffy!" He sat up and rubbed the sweat from his face with both hands inside his master bedroom.

"Another bad dream, sweetie," she sat up, jiggling a pair of naked breasts side to side, blinking her eyelashes in the dull light of his master bedroom.

He gasped for air, "My godson. A girl, a girl with dark hair, again, I saw it again." He stared at the far wall which was painted in sissy light peach colors.

"Allow me to relax you, sweetie," she turned with a grin and rubbed his naked back muscles with soft hands.

He sounded with a moan from the nice massage of her warm hands, closing his eyelids, purging a third nightmare of his godson Cliffy who was dead inside a set of white colored bed sheets. She removed both hands. He turned and settled a tense neck and a dizzy skull back down into the soft pillow, drifting off to sleep.

9:03 a.m.

City of Coral Beach in US State of Florida

Hot temperatures, three miles-per-hour winds with bright sunshine

Away from the hustle and bustle of Highway One, the city of Coral Beach resided in Miami-Dade County, boasting a mayor, a sheriff, a physician, and a lawyer underneath a fake domed city hall. The gated community boasted other unique facilities, such as, a couple of jail cells, an interrogation room, a weapons room, a firing hole, a library, and an art museum.

The beachside city housed a fire department, a helicopter pad, a vehicle and boat garage, a gardener atrium, a mechanic machine and equipment shop, and a postal station. There were numerous house servant residential houses which were surrounded by a state-of-the-art security alarm system too.

The alarm system was hidden inside a set of two distinct iron and concrete decorative sentry security gates.

The landscape entrance into the lovely and lush beachside city of Coral Beach from the east roadside of Highway One nicely intersected at the first sentry gate, where a pair of armed and smiling guards blocked and inspected a set of any warmly welcomed visitors or coldly un-welcomed strangers.

If the lucky party passed through the first sentry, then a second sentry gate blocked and inspected you and your vehicle for a second round of non-fun time.

Once fully accepted and approved by the double sentry gatekeepers, the lucky party ventured down the magnificent majestic avenue of mansions to one of four formal addresses on Coral Lane. The four estates on Coral Lane were surrounded by a golf course, a tree and grassy walking park, and the bluish-green Atlantic Ocean, where both a south and an eastern sun horizon occurred every dawn and dusk.

A yellow cobblestone road named Coral Lane, paralleling a pink colored bricked walkway, displaying a set of four pastel colored mansions, consisting of neon orange, dark green, bright yellow, or a pink sissy hue.

Currently, a set of separate four limousines of gold, silver, white, and black slowly drove down Coral Lane and stopped at the first estate residence on One Coral Lane.

9:09 a.m.

Home of Austin Florida room setting

The double front doors on the bright pink mansion sailed from the double metal frames as both crystal door knobs crashed against the pale yellow colored walls.

"Damn it to hell. Damn it to hell. Damn it to hell." Austin entered and kicked a side table of wood as the fern plant and the table dropped sideways, skidding across the Mexican tile floor. Both objects abruptly halted at the bottom stair step. He moved to one of the twin side tables, holding a crystal lamp near one of the twin yellow and white striped sofas and attacked with the same leather again.

The table soared up and hit the pink granite fireplace, breaking into two separate wooden staves. The crystal lamp sailed sideways in the opposite direction through the air and hit the floor, rolling and smashing in an assortment of tiny bits of glass near the broken fern pot.

Austin moved without song deeper into his Florida room, seeking a new target, raising a bent kneecap at the next target, a low table.

"Austin," Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III was a life-time brother, a permanent business partner, and the peaceful neighbor of Austin.

Austin dropped the kneecap down to the floor, slumping forward a face down into a chest, viewing the helpless tile, feeling fury, hate, and revenge.

"Calm down. We all feel the same way, bro," Stuart Thant Gage, III was a life-time brother, a permanent business partner, and the protective neighbor of Austin. Stu moved and pushed Austin toward the sofa and away from the delicate table which held a glass chess set.

"Sit the fuck down, Old Man." Thomas Edison Sawyer, III was a life-time brother, a permanent business partner, and the troublesome neighbor of Austin. He did not touch Austin, dashing to the beverage bar on the southeastern side of the Florida room. "Does anyone else want a drink at the bar?"

Austin stumbled from the table and hit the sofa, sitting and placed both his elbows on top of his kneecaps with a face hidden between his palms, viewing the tile some more.

"Need I remind that the hour is nine in the morning, Tom?" Stu viewed his designer wrist watch with a sour frown.

"Know that. I have a gawd damn watch. I can tell fucking time. I learned that slick trick in elementary school as a young boy. I need something to kill the butt-ass kicking pain, Stu." Tom stopped inside the bar and grabbed a glass tumbler from the top cabinet.

"Just one, Tom! Or I'll tell Janey." Frank turned and frowned at Tom.

Tom turned and frowned to Frank. "You always were the shitty tattle-taler in our band, Frank. And then Stu would kick your fucking ass for reporting us," he laughed, dropping the ice cubes, and poured the whiskey into the tumbler.

Stu lifted and flung both his arms into the air with a smile and a chuckle, "Boom!"

Frank turned from the beverage bar and billiards table, advancing to one of twin sofas, observing Austin, who hid a skull inside the palms. Then Frank turned and frowned to Stu.

Stu turned and frowned to Tom.

Tom shook a blonde haired skull, lifting the drink and moved to the billiards table on the southwest side of the room. He stopped and placed the whiskey beverage on the edge of the billiards table, removing up the triangular rack from each cued balls, grabbing a pool stick and licked the end with the chalk. He positioned a white cue ball in the middle of the table and aimed at the collected balls, firing with the pool stick. The white cue ball broke up all the balls from the center, scattering them into different directions without striking a single pocket.

"I'm going to the kitchen for a beverage. Frank?" Stu stood and stared at the blonde colored hair roots on Tom.

"Please bring me a bottle of dark soda along with a medium glass filled with crashed ice cubes." Frank ordered to Stu and observed the black colored hair roots on Austin.

"Not only a fucking tattler but the classy and proper Miss Manners gent. Don't ya know real fucking men drink from the gawd damn bottle, Frank?" Tom lifted his torso from the playing field with a laugh, reaching and sipping the whiskey beverage.

"Austin?" Stu viewed the black hair roots on Austin and pivoted, disappearing into the kitchen, shaking a bald skull.

Frank turned and frowned at a set of closed front double doors. "Where are our lovely ladies?"

Tom hit the ball with a meek timber. "They're comforting Marge at her house. Jane said not to expect them for a while, maybe not until dinner."

"Burton?" Frank turned and frowned at the blonde hair roots on Tom.

"Making the funeral arrangements," Tom leaned down and hit the cue ball into the right corner pocket.

Frank turned with a stern face and viewed a wall of windows, showing a grove of tear shaped green shade trees that guarded a row of picnic tables, the wooden swings, the beach hammocks, and a small battery operated refrigerator which stored both food and drink (only beer for Tom) on the golden sands of the Atlantic Ocean.

A perfect spot for young children to roam free and to play without an invasion of rude visitors, mean kids, and half naked sun bathing young girls.

The beach and park was owned by Austin, Frank, Stu, and Tom. No other foot prints were allowed on these golden beach sands.

This was an earthly paradise for a billionaire, who lived in the most beautiful spot on Earth, Miami. The weather was warm all year around for swimming, skiing, fishing, boating, sporting, shopping, jogging, walking, and playing.

And only money could buy this kind of paradise.

Frank had money lots and lots of money, thanking his family ancestor of inheritance from an extremely wealthy father, a very wealthy grandfather, and a slightly wealthy great grandfather.

His great grandfather was part of clan which was called the "Fathers of Miami."

The boys (Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom) called themselves the "Band of Brothers" but they were not biological siblings. Instead, they were "blood" brothers.

Their four non-related biological great grandfathers, in the year 1838, formed the first eternity "bond" of human red blood as a set of four young teens. The four young teens lived among the wild farmlands and wilder forests of northern Florida near the spouting town of Tallahassee, the current state capital of Florida.

Mangrove, the first moved as a teenager from his native country of Spain with his favorite stallion and the other barn animals to the new land of America, where his father worked as an animal veterinarian and occasionally a human physician inside a rural countryside township.

Gage, the first was shipped as a slave from his home land of Africa, working on one of many southern cotton plantations, where he had escaped and headed to the wild and free lands of Florida. He bartered his new skills as a farmer inside the same rural countryside township.

Sawyer, the first came from German royalty, but he was determined to rule his own destiny in the New World rather in the Fatherland, leaving behind his royal family members and his royal family fortune. He became the rural countryside township's mayor.

Berrington, the second traveled inside a wooden ship over the Atlantic Ocean with the other poor peasants from Great Britain, seeking freedom from British prosecution in the new land of America, expanding his trade-ship as a blacksmith inside the same rural countryside township.

Millionaire, billionaire, and zillionaire, the title was useless, now.

All of Frank's money could not bring that young boy back to life on planet Earth.

The only child of Clifford and Marge Burton was found dead less than twenty-four hours ago inside his private hospital room. The child had been admitted for a broken leg, a non-threatening injury. Cliffy would have worn his leg cast for the required eight-week period, removing it and continuing his young playful full life into the fifth grade.

Clifford was now planning the funeral for Monday afternoon, discussing the details with the funeral director, selecting a funeral coffin, and signing the transfer papers from the hospital morgue to the funeral home, paying a seven foot by eight-foot plot of dirt for a six feet deep hole, burying his baby boy.

Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III had no heirs to his throne, yet. His wife Misty Marie and he would plan for the future happy event, not this year, maybe next year, after the pain, angry, and sadness subsided in his heart.

Time healed everything.

Stu returned with two bottles and a large tumbler filled with ice, handing the items to Frank with a smile.

Frank turned and accepted the tumbler with a puzzled brow from Stu. "Thank you kindly, sir. Where are the napkins?"

Stu rolled his eyes and turned, occupying the opposite side of the sofa which was far away from an annoying Frank.

Tom chuckled at the comedy team, "Told ya. Hey there, Miss Manners gent, real rough and tough men use a shirt sleeve for moping their chapped and creaked lips. Watch, Frank? Do it like me." He jerked down his dress shirt sleeve with a dangling emerald cufflink, holding the pool stick and placed the sleeve fabric against his mouth, wiping his wet lips of the whiskey, dropping both his arms with a smile and a nod.

Stu smiled with a nod, "Boom."

Frank stood and shook his skull with a stern face, leaving the amusing and abusing pair, disappearing into the kitchen for a set of napkins.

Austin continued to stare down at the tile with a sad face.

"I've been pondering this delicate situation. Could this have been a kidnapping attempt that went amiss?" Stu turned to see the blonde hair roots on Tom and sipped the beverage.

Tom leaned down and hit the ball, missing and lifted his torso, drinking the whiskey with a smile and a nod to Stu. "I believe ya got the makings of an excellent theory there, my brother." Tom turned and smiled to Frank. "Cliff's a multi-millionaire. How much is he worth now days?"

"Cliff Burton's fortune is quite vast around one hundred sixty million dollars." Frank entered the room, stopping and placed one paper napkin underneath his drinking glass tumbler and sat on the sofa, placing two more paper napkins over each leg of his dress trousers.

"We live in fuckingly stressed social times, where stupid ass millionaires are openly exposed shitty targets for both person kidnapping and money ransoms." Tom leaned down and knocked around another ball into the left pocket with a stern face.

"I strongly disagree, Thomas. That behavior is not exhibited here in the USA. You do not see that type of criminal behavior or executed plot committed by desperate poor American people on rich happy American citizens." Frank carefully unfolded four more paper napkins and placed inside his lap like a true South Florida gentleman of good breeding.

Stu nodded with a stern face to Mangrove. "I concur, Frank. But I can't envision a different outcome. What could the death of Cliffy have been caused from a virus? A drug? A fall? A murder?"

Austin continued to stare down at the pink, yellow, and cream colors of the floor tile.

The floor had been newly installed last month by his so-called girl pal Liz Harris.

Liz had suggested redecorating the Florida room with more zing, instructing a highly price tagged Miami born interior decorator, using a spring time color theme of canary yellows, mint greens, bright whites, and sky blues.

Austin did not mind spending his money on Liz. When she created an idea, she nagged, pursued, and whined until Austin surrendered both his time and his money, the money mostly.

Austin dared not use the term girlfriend or companion to describe Miss Harris either. The lasting connotation implied to other people that the relationship might lead to something more permanent, such as, a diamond ring, a pre-engagement party, an engagement party, a wedding party, a marriage reception, and finally a baby.

Clifford Milton Burton, III was not a baby. Cliffy was ten years old, entering the fifth grade at Austin's old Alma Mater elementary school. He was a little boy full of energy, playing second plate in baseball, ruling over his video games, and riding his bicycle inside local grassy woody park trail. Cliffy enjoyed collecting a zoo of small lizards, rocks, and insects, scaring his mom with the yucky contents like a typical young boy does in America, the land of free and home of the brave.

Amazingly, the death of Cliffy had ignited long ago some of the stored boyhood memories from Austin's own past adventures as a young kid growing up in the hot sizzling metro city of Miami.

Twenty-four years ago

Coral Gables Elementary Prep School

City of Coral Gables in US State of Florida (three miles, northeast, from Coral Beach)

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy morning

The first mission for the "Band of Brothers" (young six years old Frank, Tom, Stu, and Austin) vowed to honor and protect each "brother" on a cool spring March in first grade at the Coral Gables Elementary Preparatory school building. On the shared playground, an oversized, strong, and tall six-year-old Stu had beaten the shit out of an eight-year-old Cassidy Clay Stone, the third, after the kid had called Tom, a wimpy cry baby.

If Austin's long term memory correctly served, this was Tom's first of many rescues by his non-biological brother Stu.

Elementary school playground setting

Before the bloody beating of Cassidy, the four boys stood in a huddle igniting the Quartet tradition.

"We four stick together come hell or heaven forever until eternity," six-year-old Stuart Thant Gage, III said with a smile and a nod from watching too many violent wars and battle television programs.

Grandfather Gage was a formal military officer who was deployed from Miami in the 1940's, fighting in World War Two. Stu was very proud of his grandfather and secretly desired a military career that was not shared by his dad Stuart Thant Gage, Junior.

Stuart was pure logic, discipline, devotion, and loyal as a golden retriever to his master. Stu's master list consisted of his brothers, his families, his friends, his employees, his guests, and his wife Gracie Jean.

Stu did not ever meet a strange. Once he was your friend, you were his for life.

The brilliant man possessed multiple postgraduate degrees, including a doctoral in engineering, a master's of computer science, a bachelor's of mathematics, and certified as a local police officer just for the hell of it.

Austin had welcomed and relied on Stu's brotherhood, friendship, and protection for many years. And it did not hurt that Stu stood tall at six feet and six inches with a set of taut African-American muscles, weighing in at 283 pounds with a bald head, a pair of brown eyeballs, a set of two sunken cheekbones on an oval shaped face along with the stern fatherly manners of an old soul.

The tallest of the Band of Brothers, Dr. Gage was known as "Big Man" who maintained the peace, harmony, and tranquility with all people at home, at work, and on planet Earth.

"All for one and one for all," six-year-old Thomas Edison Sawyer, III quoted frequently from his favorite fantasy adventure fiction book, The Three Musketeers.

Tom was a full blown science fiction nut that read, quoted, and annoyed the shit out of ya with his latest and greatest sci-fi novel.

The novels were filled with outer space battles, x-ray guns, and time warped flying ships with settings inside and outside various locations from a white stone castle to a black outer space. Sawyer lived inside his science fiction world and was oblivious to the current social, economic, global, and financial events occurring on a daily basis in Miami, in Florida, in America, and on planet Earth.

Austin truly felt that Tom's highly exceptional IQ of 190 was the blame for that split in his bi-polar personality.

A loud mouth foul joker all the time, except when Tom was required to preside over a legal law case and then a brilliant genius smooth talking and fast thinking attorney emerged.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, III had never lost a single legal case for his company, his employees, or his family members since passing the Florida legal bar. The man was furious, fastidious, and feverous regarding all legal and law issues. His brain cells could quote to you any federal, state and local law case, legal ruling, and court procedure, since the year 1829 within the United States of America. Thus, Tom was the "Law Man."

"The band of four brothers may no man force us apart, least ye die," six-year-old Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III said with a slight smirk.

Frank was the Renaissance man among the non-biological brothers. His beating heart ruled his mind. His sharp mind absorbed accounting principles and medicine knowledge as Franklin was a CPA (Certified Public Accountant) who had passed the examination after college. And he was a licensed medical physician of dermatology, after graduating medical school.

However, Dr. Mangrove preferred chess to war and books to guns with his side interest of gemology and art collecting.

So the people called him, "Money Man."

"Brothers in life and the afterlife," six-year-old Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV cheered inside a huddle on the playground.

Stu reached and opened his pen knife which had been hidden inside his school uniform. Each boy nicked a finger, squeezing the blood from the cut skin, mixing the blood with each other's finger wound. Then the act and action sealed the newest Quartet blood pact like their great grandfathers in the year 1838.

As the young boys advanced through elementary school to middle school into high school, and finally college, the blood pact had endured and strengthened the Band of Brothers as a family.

Eleven years ago

University of Miami-Dade

City of Miami in US State of Florida (five miles, northeast, from Coral Beach)

Clifford graduated college with Austin and then married his girlfriend Marge Wells at the local church. Then Marge and Clifford produced an heir Clifford Milton Burton III, who was cleverly nicknamed Cliffy.

Upon his college graduation, Clifford inherited his father's business, a security alarm store, factory, and warehouse. Then Clifford financially benefited from the backlash of numerous new and updated security installations in Miami, in Florida, in America, and all over the world, compliments of Quartet Associates.

Quartet Associates was an international security protection company which was privately owned by the Quartet (Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom).

Grateful for his business and friendship, Clifford and Marge named Austin as Cliffy's godfather, inviting the new godfather to attend the baby's baptism. Then, the godfather supplied the second biggest present at each birthday party and on Christmas day, avoiding the "kid, family, and marriage thing."

Present day and place

9:33 a.m.

Home of Austin

Florida room setting

Austin had wisely observed the swift male transformation of Frank, Tom, and Stu from a flamboyant single carefree guy into a reserved, cautious, and trapped man, after these vile nasty words: I do. Austin was not married and not dating either as the nasty word date is too closely associated with the other word: engagement. His girl pal was a single and available Miss Liz Gwinnett Harris, the daughter of a prominent family in Miami. The prominent Harris family could trace ass-backward their original native Florida roots from the 1920's township like a leaky pipe of salt water from the Atlantic Ocean. Austin and Liz had dated off and on since middle school through college to present day.

However, Liz liked living her solo life in Paris, London, Milan, and various major European cities, popping in and out of Miami faster than a US fighter jet. She arrived in the metro city of Miami, where Austin wined and dined mostly for his pleasure rather than hers. Then Liz disappeared for another six months, returning into the arms of Austin, six months later, performing the same old routine, the same old questions, and the same old answers.

Liz was a beautiful thirty-one-year-old girl with a pair of big breasts, a set of long legs, a head of blonde hair, a pair of blue eyes, a perfect smile, and a tone of sun kissed coffee skin complexion who looked gorgeous in an expensive evening gown, a pair of long shorts, a backless sundress, a tiny bikini, and nude as Austin smirked. She attended each glamorous social gala on the right arm of Austin wearing one of the purchased expensive gem and gown as the eye candy of Austin. Austin used and abused his rights to her as Liz used and abused her aristocratic breeding in front of the local and international television media reporters and photographers.

Liz or Lizard as Tom relentlessly teased was not "wife material" for the "forever-wife" thing either and was not committing her selfishness to a marriage or a child or a family life.

Austin pondered if he will ever be committed to one girl or was afraid of the marriage thing. And if Austin every found the perfect girl to become the perfect wife, then the perfect wife to bore the perfect child. Then, the perfect child might endure the same fate as little Cliffy. Austin exhaled with his deep dark thoughts.

"Murder! Whoa, Stu! Step back there! You're tossing sand into the hurricane winds, my boy, speculating there might be a killer loose within the pink painted walls of good ole merciful Charity Hospital." Tom smacked the ball, missing the pocket and frowned, lifting his torso, gulping down the whiskey.

Quartet Associates was built from the fifty percent monies of the "new" Quartet plus the fifty percent funding from the "old" Quartet (biological fathers of Austin, Tom, Frank, and Stu). The old family company was named Quarter Company which was an old seaport, air, and land freight business which was built by each biological grandfather of Austin, Tom, Frank, and Stu.

Gage enjoyed listening to his grandfather's childhood and teen adventures as a simply farm boy, who lived and survived among the gator swamps and mangrove trees in a young developing Miami, Florida. And Stu trusted his grandfather, his wife, his brothers, his guts, and his instincts.

Stu turned with a stern face and a nod to see the blonde colored hair roots on Tom. "Look at the factual evidence, Tom. There were no marks identified on the body. Physicians, nurses, clerks, and technicians were questioned, repeatedly. The answers agreed with his medical chart which indicated Cliffy was alive and breathing in his hospital bed inside his private hospital room before the lights out notification for sleep time. He received no additional medications, IVs, or pain killers for his broken leg."

"The shot?" Frank sipped the beverage.

Stu turned and frowned to Frank. "The hypoderm needle contained a minor nerve killer administrated in the leg, clearly documented in the medical chart at 9:16 yesterday morning when Cliffy arrived at the emergency room. The low level drug was administrated into Cliffy directly from by the licensed Florida orthopedic physician before straightening the bone as the casting materials were applied. At least eleven hours had passed and still Cliffy did not vomit, sneeze, or cough from the administrated pain reliever."

"The physical evidence clears the physician. But the medication could have been contaminated at the manufacturing site before transported to the hospital." Frank nodded to Stu.

Stu nodded, "Very good point, Frank, the hospital had researched that question too. The answer given to me was that Cliffy didn't react to the sedative along with other patients seen in the orthopedics department on the same day and night. No other child or adult has died within twenty-four hours of administrating that particular dosage of drug."

"Does the hospital have another explanation?" Tom hit the ball, missing the pocket with a sour frown.

"The hospital administration isn't commenting about these circumstances, until the formal investigation is released by police." Frank sipped his beverage.

"Shouldn't we be there now trailing the police officers?" Stu nodded to Frank.

Austin stood with a stern face to see Stu. "No. Our first duty is to observe the autopsy of my godson Cliffy."
Wednesday June 2nd

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waning moon, warm temperature with clear sky

"Clifford?" He sat up, seeing the peach colored wall inside his private bedroom, sweating from his body and his face.

"Sweetie, you okay?" She roused slowly, brushing a soft manicured hand over his bicep.

He grabbed his throat with a gasp. "Clifford, Cliffy's father was burning alive. My gawd, he dies..."

She flipped to the wall with a sour frown, closing her eyelashes. "Clifford, Marge, home. Rest, sweetie..."

He laid and settled back down over the soft satin pillow, closing his eyelids and exhaled, purging the nasty nightmare dream.

10:07 a.m.

Miami Dade City Morgue

City of Miami (seven miles, northeast, from Coral Beach)

Warm temperatures and humid bright sunshine

The room was cool like the wintertime and painted in dull gray from the ceiling down to the tiles with a single black bag that rested on top of a silver dissection table.

Two rows of five stools hugged the floor without a set of warm bodies.

The man wore a set of gray paper surgical scrubs and stood behind the black bag, holding a respiratory breathing devise and motioned for his guests into the autopsy room with a smile as a ghost emerged from the filing cabinet in the corner with a camera, the photographer.

Austin dressed in the same Halloween costume, consisting of a gray gown, a pair of rubber gloves, a skull cap, a pair of shoe covers, a pair of clear eye goggles, and a N95 breathing apparatus, leading Frank, Stu, Tom, and Clifford to the single black bag.

Behind Austin, the Chief of Police of Miami Leo Trilling led a short woman, a short man, and a tall man. The unnamed attendees hailed from Charity Hospital administration headquarters in the city of Kendall, moving to the set of rear stools, wearing the same funky Halloween outfits.

The male behind the dissection table said with a smile and a nod without the face mask. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Miles Curie, the third. I'm the Miami-Dade metro city chief medical examiner. If you do not have any questions for me, then we can begin immediately. Since a suspicion of the current cause of the dead maybe poison, but not yet a confirmed determination by the hospital medical staff, I strongly advise you to use the respiratory breather for extra precaution as we exam the body." He lifted the devise with a nod.

"Noted, please proceed." Austin placed a hard plastic mask over his face, turning to see Tom, Frank, Stu, and Clifford, who were following the same instructions too.

Miles talked funny from the mouth breather, turning to see the nurse, "Microphone on."

"Microphone is working, doctor," the nurse was dressed in the face mask and a pair of gray scrubs too for assistance in the medical procedure.

Austin noted that the nurse was not properly introduced by Miles also.

"This is Miles Curie, the third, MD. I am the chief medical examiner of Miami-Dade city, county, and district. Please unzip the bag, nurse."

The nurse reached and unzipped the body bag, revealing the dead child.

The face of the child was grayish-blue in color with both the arms at his side and his broken leg inside the yellow casting material of smiley faces and handwritten school friend signatures. Thus, Clifford Milton Burton, the third looked peacefully asleep.

Burton, Junior ripped off the N95 apparatus and stood from the chair, turning from Cliffy's dead body and exited the autopsy room, wiping off the tears from his face.

Frank stood and followed Clifford out the door.

Uninterrupted by a pair of swinging doors, Miles said with a smile and a nod. "The body is a child named Clifford Milton Burton, III. He appears to be nine years of age."

"Doctor Miles, the demographic information has been collected and recorded by the hospital staff. You do not need to restate the same data," the nurse said.

Miles exhaled inside the clear face mask, making a steam cloud of angry. "Very well, the body is wearing a hospital gown blue in color, covering the neck to the knees. Photo."

The photography moved, snapped three pictures of the dead body, and returned back behind the cabinet like a wraith.

Miles ordered. "Remove the gown." The nurse reached and clipped the fabric, storing inside a plastic bag. He looked at the body with a stern face. "No visible evidence of residue on the skin. Photo." The photographer moved, snapped two more pictures, and returned back into the wall corner. Miles ordered. "Light" The nurse handed a portable lamp to Miles.

A bright violet color washed over the small body as Miles dragged the light from the top of the bone skull and scanned the pretty beam down to the exposed bone toes, saying. "No further residue partials from the body utilizing the ultraviolet beam. Samples."

The nurse pulled a metal pick and extracted the skin from the body's toenails and fingernails, clipping a few strands of his blonde hair, gently placing each sample in a separate plastic bag. She marked it with a black pen.

He ordered. "Stop recording." Miles stepped away from the body, pulling off the breather device with a grin.

The nurse clicked the lamp off. "Yes, doctor."

Miles said with a smile and a nod to his audience. "At this junction of the autopsy, I have the option of applying the traditional Y-shaped, T-shaped, or a single vertical incision in the chest cavity of the body for the interior examination of the organs, consisting of the heart, stomach, liver, and lung tissues. I have elected to use a new modern radical method to continue the autopsy."

Dr. Jefferson Davis Brandt, Junior was a former plastic surgeon and current super president of Charity Healthcare System in Kendall, Florida, ripping off his face mask, saying with a confused frown. "You should explain to us in greater detail this new radical method, Miles."

Miles said with a smile and a nod. "The procedure is not really new. The method has existed since the year 2000 AD. However, many ME's chose not to use it."

The door opened.

Frank returned into the room and ripped off his face mask, saying with a worried brow. "Please elaborate medically for all of us, Dr. Curie?"

The door slowly closed.

"Tell us, Curie?" Leo ripped off his face mask, saying with a sour frown and a sneer.

"Radiographic gamma imaging," Miles said with a smile and a nod.

Frank stood and turned with a stern face to see the nose profile on Austin. "He means x-rays."

"Precisely, Dr. Mangrove," Miles smiled with a nod to Frank.

"Is this procedure danger to us, Curie?" Leo viewed the kid that had died of some mysterious medical malady.

Miles shook his skull, saying with a smile and a nod. "Not at all, the average human living in the US is exposed to about .361 MREM annually from all types of routine background sources. For example, a typical dental x-ray of the human mouth results in an exposure of .003 to .09 MREM."

"You're going to x-ray the child's insides. Will that fry his organs?" Leo frowned.

"The organs aren't functioning. The light is invisible to our naked eyes." Miles smiled with a nod again.

Jefferson said with a sour frown. "Why not use the standard procedure, Miles? We're here. You're prepared. You..."

"I have discussed the possibility with my colleagues of poison leaking from the body in the form of a solid, gas, or liquid which is the reason for the added protection gear of the re-breather masks. The conjecture from the attending hospital physicians is that the body absorbed the poison, destroying the oxygen, causing asphyxiation." Miles said with a grin and a nod.

Austin grinded his teeth, newly learning that his godson had suffocated and then died at the hands of some evil monster, mentally promising to find and to kill that monster with his two bare hands.

"So ya think the poison's still inside the kid's system?" Leo frowned down at the dead child.

"A live viral toxin," Miles said with a grin and a nod to Leo.

Frank frowned, "Maybe?"

Jefferson shook a graying and blonde skull, "Impossible, Miles."

"Do you have an opinion, Dr. Brandt?" Miles turned and frowned to Jefferson.

Jefferson said. "Not an opinion, a medical fact. This is best set by a simple analogy. When a rattlesnake bites a boy, the boy will die if not given an antidote within a certain amount of time. During treatment of the boy, the venom extracted by a medical physician will not be in danger of infection from the snake's venom. The boy's cell structure, enzymes, blood, acids, and proteins have broken down the toxin when it was received from the snake's fang. The same theory can be applied here. The boy's exposed organs cannot harm you, Miles. Therefore, I vote that we proceed with the traditional T-shaped method of autopsy."

"This isn't a democracy, Dr. Brandt. I'm the chief ME of Miami-Dade County. I decide what venue I follow not you inside my laboratory." Miles said with a sour frown.

"I didn't give you permission to do this, either." Leo turned and viewed Miles.

Miles turned and pointed to Leo. "You did not." Then he turned and pointed to Jefferson. "He did not. And I don't care. My approvals flow from the FDPH."

"FDPH?" Austin turned and viewed Frank.

"FDPH is the state of Florida Department of Public Health in Tallahassee which gives me the ultimate power to select any autopsy method that I will use based on the current medical criteria available." Miles looked to each face.

Jefferson frowned to Miles. "Pardon me for being blunt, but it would seem that you have made your decision."

Miles smirked. "I have. Please sit down. We can proceed without any more interruptions. Nurse, place the fluorescence over the body starting at the head."

The nurse shifted the fluorescence light on a machine, rolling it across the ceiling and stopped at the skull.

Miles pointed to the tray. "Pass out the eye glasses."

The nurse moved, retrieved, and carried a tray with numerous brown tinted visors shaped and sized like sunglasses around to each guest of the autopsy.

Miles held the sunglasses, saying with a nod and a smile. "Remove your clear goggles. Place these over your eyes."

Jefferson fiddled with his sunglasses. "The degree of radiation danger, may I ask?"

Miles fiddled with his sunglasses. "The unit of measurement for a single x-ray beam is one MREM. The output of the machine will produce .0001 MREM of exposure to your body and eyes. The average person living in the United States is exposed at appropriately .361 MREMs within a calendar year from various background sources of natural and man-made light, alone."

Frank fiddled with his sunglasses. "Fractional."

"Correct, Dr. Mangrove." Miles wore the glasses, saying with a smile and a nod to Frank.

Jefferson pointed at the child. "Do ya know what to look for, Miles?"

Miles flipped his hand over the child. "Of course, I do, Jefferson, a distortion in the veins, skeleton, or organs. X-rays can easily detect cancer cells, cysts, and tumors."

Leo fiddled with his sunglasses. "Are all of us going to be viewing the image, Curie?"

Miles looked up to see each face, saying with a smile and a nod. "We are. I hope that you are just as excited as I am. I must tell you that I usually work alone not with an audience of distinguished guests and visitors."

First, Austin noted that the physician did not credit the nameless nurse, who represented a valuable asset to his work, especially when he worked alone. Second, Miles was sucking up to the four billionaires who were observing his new radical method of a crude barbaric autopsy on a child, in a crowded cold smelly dull gray room.

Austin turned and viewed Frank, who was a trained medical physician, a longtime friend, and a life time brother. Austin could not hear the verbal comments from Frank, but his facial expression talked a thousand words.

Franks nodded to Austin.

"As the wave advances down the body, you'll see the complete skeleton structure which will display the color of white. X-rays block dense tissues, such as, organs, muscles, and skin. So the monitor will turn black." Miles viewed the child.

Leo viewed the closed entrance door. "Waste of time."

"We shall see, chief." Miles viewed the nurse, "Ignition."

The machine jolted with a loud humming sound from the mechanic engines, grinding the metal plates. The nurse dragged a long cable from the wall port, pulling the machine across the floor.

A blue beam poured over Cliffy's lifeless body.

Miles said. "If anyone cares not to participate, you may leave the room now."

Silence invaded the autopsy room.

"Very well," Miles slapped both gloved hands over the machine. "Radiation waves are invisible to the naked eyes. The goggles don't show any colored lights or beams reflecting off the dead body. The monitor will display with vivid clarify the skull and bones in white contracted with fuzzy black patches of organs or veins, as the beam passes through the body like a ghost," he softly chuckled.

Austin stared at the bones, feeling eerie as he observed someone that was once alive and full of joy and happiness. Then his nausea twisted into fury, rage, and hate for this senseless cold-blooded murder. The death of Cliffy had been hard on him but hardest on both Marge and Clifford.

Miles stared at each body part. "Skull, nasal bone, clavicle, rib cage, lungs, heart, humerus, pancreas, stomach, liver...Stop."

The nurse pointed a blue beam at the liver.

Jefferson frowned, standing from the chair. "What do you see, Miles?"

"The liver, I think." Miles started at the body part.

Jefferson said. "The liver is the second largest organ in the human body."

Frank smiled. "The largest organ is the skin, in case, someone's curious."

"Thanks, Dr. Mangrove." Leo said.

"Switch to the telescope, nurse." Miles stared at the body part.

"Yes, doctor," the nurse clicked a rotating dial on the machine panel as the x-ray screen magnified the child's liver. The color was light and bright almost whitish illumination rather than dense dark blot of black.

"Location is correct, right side of the upper abdomen and below the diaphragm." Miles shifted the telescope lenses up and down between the rib cage and the right hip bone, tracing the white bright object on the x-ray computer screen.

Leo chuckled. "Ya missed it, Curie."

"I have keyed the liver which lies on the right of the stomach here. There's the bed for the gallbladder. This object is the liver. I'm quite certain, Chief Trilling." Miles shifted the telescope back and forth, right to left on a bright spot.

Leo said. "The organs are all colored black, Curie."

Jefferson moved to the dissection table beside Miles. "Organs are black. I can guarantee the color of all films on any x-ray equipment in the world. But this one is almost white. The image doesn't make any sense, Miles. Open him up."

"Scalpel," Miles held out a gloved hand as the nurse placed the sharp instrument in his palm. Miles moved and cut a straight line on the skin epidermis, using a set of tongs, opening up each side of the slit. He leaned into the body.

Instead of a soft pinkish-brown gland, Miles and Jefferson saw a boomerang-shaped hard yellow crystallized liver, gleaming in the overhead lights.

Jefferson exhaled, "My gawd!"

"Good grief." Miles held the scalpel in the air from his face as the yellow colored liver twinkled against the dead black tissues in Cliffy's guts.

A yellow residue coated every single square inch of the liver from the top to down and side to side, shaping the liver like a fat puffy golden pound cake design with millions of yellow star-shaped sprinkles. The yellow mystery substance did not extend beyond the liver to any of the other black organs, including the intestines or the colon.

Jefferson stared at the yellow liver. "Miles, what you do think?"

Miles started at the pretty starry yellow liver too.

Frank stood and moved beside Jefferson, saying with a sour frown. "What are you, two admiring?"

Jefferson pointed to the yellow crystallized liver. "Pus, there is yellow hard pus covering the entire liver."

Frank frowned, studying the yellow crystallized liver. "Have you ever seen anything like it, Dr. Curie?"

Miles stared at the liver, holding the scalpel in mid-air.

"Sample," Jefferson jerked the tongs from the surgery tray and poked at the organ as the liver shivered and shifted like a bowl of jelly.

Frank parted his lips. "Shit."

Jefferson parted his lips. "Gawd be damned. What is this? Curie? Frank?" He stared at the wiggling liver.

Miles stared at the liver as it winked at Miles. He blinked at the liver as it winked at him for a second time. He whispered. "Alive."

"What the hell are you doing, Curie?" Leo moved and stood beside Jefferson.

Frank pointed down to the liver with a worried brow. "It shook. Did you see it shake side to side, Jefferson?"

Jefferson parted his lips. "I think...I believe it..."

"Alive, it is alive." Miles whispered and stared at the liver, holding the scalpel in the mid-air.

Frank pointed to the liver. "Explain that, Jefferson?"

"I can't believe this." Jefferson punched at the hard yellow pus with the tongs again, as the livers danced sideways without music. "Shit!"

"Alive, it is alive." Miles said and stared at the liver, holding the scalpel in the mid-air.

Frank parted his lips. "Impossible."

Leo pointed to the liver. "Explain that, Curie?"

The livers winked at Miles as he exhaled, tossing the scalpel at the liver. He yelled. "Alive, it is alive. Get out! It's alive. Get out!" He back stepped and moved away from the dissection table, tripping over the stools, stumbling on his kneecaps.

Leo shouted taking charge of the emergency. "Flee the room. Out. Get out." Leo jerked Miles up from the floor and dashed out the autopsy room to the reception room, yelling. "Calm down, Curie."

Austin, Tom, Frank, and Stu stood and moved behind Leo and Curie as they all lined in a row between the dusty book shelves, the occupied office desks, and the dull side tables.

Leo shoved Miles to the office desk, looking with a sneer to each face. "No one leaves this building, unless you want to die," he pulled his hand gun, holding the cold barrel to the ceiling.

Tom parted his lips, flinging both his arms in the air with a sissy whine and a worried brow. "Don't shoot me. I'm an innocent bystander."

"Sit down. Be quiet, Tom." Stu jerked Sawyer by the arm and shoved Tom to one of the twin sofas against the wall with a stern tone. Tom sat with a giggle and a grin of the exciting day at the morgue.

Miles folded down to his waist and vomited down over the floor.

Jefferson moved with a sour frown and a yell from Miles. "Yuck. Stay on your side of the lobby, Miles."

Leo held his gun up to the ceiling, calling into his mobile telephone for the weird-ass emergency with a worried brow, "Trilling, Code Zulu, I repeat, Code Zulu."

12:19 p.m.

City of Kendall (six miles southwest of Coral Beach)

Charity Kendall Hospital

Isolation patient room setting

Hot temperatures and light rain storms

Four men were dressed in a red hospital gown sitting on a bed or standing on the tile inside a white colored isolation negative air pressure room on the ninth floor of Charity Kendall Hospital.

"I think I'm going to puke up my good breakfast." Tom sat framing both his palms around a jaw line, viewing the floor tiles.

"Do it on your side of the room, Tom?" Stu stood near the viewing window, searching for Jace.

"It's been fifty-six minutes. How much longer, Frank?" Tom looked down to white floor of tiles.

"We can't leave until the quarantine is lifted." Frank reread the medical charts of his brothers.

"When's that, Frank?" Tom viewed the far wall again.

"Another fifty-six minutes, you were standing here when Jace told us." Frank viewed the charts.

"I'm hungry." Tom looked down to the tile again.

"I thought you were sick, Tom." Stu chuckled, viewing Tom.

"I'm shitty sick and I'm fucking hungry." Tom viewed his red gown.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank punched Tom's arm.

"Ouch!" Tom rubbed his arm, snarling at Frank, "That fucking hurt, Frank. Gawd, I'm shitty sore from all the fucking needles."

"Tomorrow's going to be worse." Frank chuckled.

"Fucking worser," Tom parted his lips, viewing Frank.

"Worser is not a proper word, Thomas." Stu chuckled, turning with a smirk to see Frank and Tom.

"The blood that was taken from your arm, a few minutes ago had tested to reveal the dead microorganisms of any inactive inoculations in your healthy body. The dead microorganism identified what medical shots were required for your annual immunization treatment, for the exposure of any microbe bacteria, inside the autopsy laboratory, today." Frank grinned to Stu.

Stu winked to Frank.

Tom frowned to Frank. "Ya know I really didn't like know-it-alls? Some other people don't either. Right, Stu?" Tom nodded to Gage.

Stu smiled to Frank. "I'm very much interested in healthcare medical knowledge and clinical treatment protocols, regarding the annually required immunization inoculations for my family. I find the topic valuable and most fascinating. I had my shots when I was a small child. What else would I need, Frank?"

"Ya yelp like a puppy dog, Stu. I had my shots." Tom chuckled.

"Shut up, Tom." Stu said with a brotherly tone and a nod to Frank. "Please continue, Frank."

"The list is relatively short consisting of tetanus, smallpox, diphtheria, measles, mumps, and rubella not only should children be immunized each year, but adults as well for any unexpected exposure to microbe bacteria." Frank grinned at Stu as he nodded to Mangrove.

"Fascinating shit, Frank." Tom played with the white strings on his red gown, purely out of boredom, sitting on the bed cot.

"I believe ya missed a disease needing vaccination, Franklin." Stu nodded.

"O. Which one, Stuart?" Frank smiled playing along for shitty fun.

"Rabies." Stu grinned.

"He's fuckingly kidding, Frank." Tom dragged both the white strings down to his kneecaps with measurement being bored, and waiting for Jace to release them from their hospital imprisonment.

"Stu's quite correct. Rabies is a very dangerous transmittable disease from its carrier. We all should be inoculated." Frank nodded to Stu as they both grinned.

"Only dogs get rabies," Tom measured the gown strings down his left arm, from his left shoulder.

"And it is passed down to humans through fang bites." Frank stomped his red slippers to the sealed hospital door and rapped on the glass window.

A nurse appeared at the glass window, saying with an annoyed frown via the wall speaker. "What!?"

"Nice staff." Tom measured the gown strings up to his forehead out of boredom.

Frank smiled, thumbing behind his collar bone to Tom. "Nurse, I'm a physician. This man needs a rabies shot."

Tom sat on the bed, chewing on the white strings of gown, out of boredom.

Stu sniggered and Austin grinned to Tom.

"How did you come to that conclusion, doctor?" The nurse frowned.

Frank shifted to the side of the window, exposing Tom. "Nurse, do you see the white stringy foam, dripping from the edge of his mouth?"

She parted her lips in the face mask. "I do." She grabbed a capped needle from the medical tray, rattling it in her gloved hand, unlatching the sealed door lock with a soft click.

Tom cleared his cot, sprinting on his red slippers, slamming back the cracked door with a shoulder, leaning against the cool metal, and shouted in anger. "Get out." He sounded with a growl, barking like a mad dog. "Woof. Woof. Woo..."

The nurse screamed, dropped the capped needle, relocking the secured door as the four men were contaminated with a mysterious biological germ. "I'm calling security."

Tom stopped barking and stood, turning with a sneer to see Frank. "Nobody likes a smartass either, Frank." He moved and shoved Frank against the wall and reseated, parking his elbows upon his kneecaps.

Frank moved and returned to viewing the medical files as Stu laughed.

Austin grinned thinking that the next fifty-five minutes with his three brothers was going to be interesting in a tiny isolation room.

The door opened.

An elderly male entered, wearing a short red gown at his kneecaps and a mobile telephone phone grew from his ear. "Yes."

Pause.

"No."

Pause.

"Shit."

Pause.

"No."

Pause.

"Yes."

Pause.

"Shit."

Pause.

The male said, "President."

Tom chuckled, "Fucking president."

"I'm the fucking president," the male said.

Tom smiled, "Fucking super president."

"I'm the fucking super president," the male yelled and removed the mobile telephone, launching it at the wall without any standing human bodies. His mobile telephone broke into pieces, falling on the tile. "Shit, shit, shit," the male exposed his butt cheeks and felt a sudden wind storm, grabbing the rear cloth of the gown, swaddling it around his private parts. "Damn."

Austin recalled destroying twelve mobile telephones in the same manner when the information on other end was not satisfactory to his personal degree since the first of January. He said with a smirk to the super president of Charity Healthcare System. "What's going on, Jefferson?"

"Lots of shit, damn shit, green shit piled high over my fucking head, that's what's going on." Dr. Jefferson Davis Brandt, super president of the Charity Healthcare System sneered to the dead mobile telephone.

"What kind of shit, Jefferson?" Stu viewed Jefferson.

Tom frowned. "Forget the green shit. When are we getting out of here?" He stood and exposed his butt cheeks in the short red gown, grabbing the fabric, wrapping it around his body. "Crap this gown."

Jefferson turned with a frown to see Stu. "Did you receive the protocols? Wash your hands thoroughly for the next twenty-four hours. No contact with relatives, especially spouses for the next twenty-four hours that includes no sex and bland foods, consisting of oatmeal, bananas, crackers, water. No dairy products. Everyone received their shots."

"Yeah, my arm hurts," Tom rubbed and viewed his arm.

"Wait until tomorrow," Jefferson viewed Tom.

"Here we go again, another smartass physician," Tom patted an aching arm full of needles holes.

"Thomas, I don't like that tone. You're to wear the mask with the respiratory re-breather," Jefferson raised the devise.

"...for the next twenty-four hours." Tom viewed the wall. "Know the protocols."

"These rules are for your safety and the safety of your loved ones." Jefferson viewed Frank.

"Got a question?" Tom smiled, viewing Jefferson.

"Yes, Thomas, what's your question?" Jefferson viewed Tom.

"Do I hold my shit for the next twenty-four hours, too?" Tom laughed with Stu. Frank chuckled. Austin grinned.

Jefferson rolled his eyes and looked with a sour frown to see Austin. "Meitner is double checking the lab results to ensure everyone got their immunity shots."

Tom sniggered, singing for shitty fun. "Woof." Jefferson turned with a sour frown to see Tom.

"Time for his medicine," Frank read a new medical chart coming from the nurse.

Stu sniggered. Austin grinned. Tom grunted for his shitty fun.

"Pardon me?" Jefferson turned with a sour frown to see Frank.

"Lab results?" Austin nodded to Tom, desiring to leave the hospital atmosphere too.

"Another hour, we'll be out of here. The problem, all of our clothes and shoes were incinerated, in case of viral contamination." Jefferson looks with a sour frown to see Austin.

"Wallets?" Stu viewed Jefferson.

Jefferson moved and punched a button on the wall telephone. "Judy, please bring our personal effects from the sentinel containment lab stores and find us some new oversized physician coats made to fit roaming Colorado buffalos hides."

"Yes sir." Judy said via speaker telephone and disconnected the link.

Jefferson turned to see the Quartet, saying with a sour frown and a nod. "Wallets and cell phones had to be stream sprayed in the tank for microorganisms."

"The phones won't be in working order." Stu said with a sour tone.

Jefferson nodded. "I am afraid that you are correct, Stuart. Most of the contents of your wallets are intact, such as, driver's license and credit cards. Money can dry out. If you have any photos, they're ruined."

"Small price to pay for not getting bugs." Frank nodded to Jefferson.

Jefferson nodded. "Correct, Franklin."

The window slid open, presenting a tray. The tray contained four wet wrinkled wallets.

Jefferson accepted and pointed to the tray. "Your personal effects." He viewed the window, nodding. "Thanks, nurse." The nurse nodded, closing the window.

Jefferson viewed Austin. "If you find something missing, report it to me, personally."

"We trust your staff, Jefferson." Austin stood and moved to the tray, grabbing and flipping through his wet wallet.

"What other shit do you have for us, Jefferson?" Stu grabbed and examined his wet wallet too.

"Curie is being treated for shock and confined to the psych ward on the fourth floor, here. The sight of an encrusted liver freaked him out." Jefferson nodded.

"I can honestly admit that I am quite terribly shocked at the colorful gleaming organ, too." Frank grabbed and retrieved his walled, flipping through the wet leather.

Jefferson tapped his pager. "Shit."

"Steamed?" Stu saw the ruined photos of him and Gracie.

"It works. They're not contacting me." Jefferson stared at the pager.

"Who?" Stu flipped through more ruined pictures.

"Police? FBI? NSA? CIA? Homeland Security? Hell, I think the Black Ops are here, somewhere, working with fucking super vice-president Dunning. The bastard thinks he's in charge, since I'm in quarantine. If I don't get to my super office on the tenth floor, I'll be over ruled, over run, and over thrown." Jefferson viewed his hospital pager as it contained no visual or audio signal of telecommunication updated data about the mystery microorganisms running around Charity Kendall Hospital.

"Tough empire." Tom smiled and slapped his wet wallet to the bed, emptying the contents.

"What other tidbits of information can you share with us?" Austin held the wet wallet and viewed Jefferson.

"Everyone has been interviewed including the residents, nurses, attending docs, social services, pastoral care personnel, supervisors, trauma coordinators, radiology, lab, security, pediatric physicians, emergency room staff, janitorial, environmental, food services, engineering folks, patients, families, guests, and all execs." Jefferson stared down at his pager.

Austin said with a sour tone. "Cliffy is..."

"The body's at Turkey Point." Jefferson frowned to Austin.

"The nuclear plant!?" Stu frowned to Jefferson.

"No other medical facility wants to finish performing the medical autopsy." Jefferson nodded to Stu.

"So much, for an advanced disaster planning protocol in a crisis." Frank frowned to Jefferson.

"Enforcement of the local law!?" Stu said.

Jefferson shook his skull. "No enforcement. Hospitals are private property. If the chief medical officer doesn't want you there at his hospital, then you are not there."

"Cobra law!?" Frank said.

"Doesn't apply, here. This isn't a state of Florida emergency situation." Jefferson said.

"Miami Public Health Department?" Frank said.

"They don't want an epidemic. The clinic sees 2,500 really sick immunized comprised people day in and out within a ten-hour work day." Jefferson said.

"Another Charity Hospital?" Austin asked.

Jefferson shook his skull. "I'm in too much muck. The discovery of a dead body of a young boy without a medical explanation and coupled with a shiny polished yellow organ is stirring panic and fear within the staff, patients, and guests."

"Are patients leaving?" Tom smiled to Jefferson.

"Not yet!" Jefferson viewed Tom.

"Are employees leaving?" Tom grinned.

"No." Jefferson said.

"Are docs leaving?" Tom sniggered.

"Thomas, stop asking me questions. Do you want to hear the rest of my data or not?" Jefferson frowned.
Thursday June 3rd

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waning moon, warm temperatures with rainy thunderstorms

"Ah!" He sat up and rubbed a sweaty face.

"More nightmares," she rested down over the satin pillow with a set of closed eyelashes. "Tell Frank."

"They'll pass, once the funeral's completed." He dropped back down onto the warm satin pillow, purging a new nightmare of Clifford's death.

8:43 a.m.

City of Kendall

Headquarters Charity Healthcare System

Parking lot blue letter D setting

Rain clouds and humid temperatures without sunshine

Austin stood beside the limousine, staring up at the rainy cloudy dark blue sky, feeling the hot and humid moisture in the air waves and exhaled, viewing a busy parking lot in front of the hospital.

The parking lot held an assortment of colorful television trucks with numerous satellite antennas looking like insects and coupled with the nicely dressed media reporters looking like fashion models. The media people had come from the Florida cities of Miami, Orlando, Pensacola, Daytona Beach, Jacksonville plus the local the Spanish broadcasting television station in Doral.

The flashy television news was shooting information from Miami to New York to LA to Puerto Rico and beyond the heavenly stars.

Tom stared through his sunglasses at the numerous media reporters. "My fuckingly gawd..."

"No comments." Austin turned and viewed Tom.

The Quartet turned and passed the pink colored granite water fountain. The fountain was a signature trophy, since fresh water was a premium commodity in South Florida. They headed into the hospital lobby for a morning emergency meeting.

The water fountain proclaimed the entrance into the headquarters building of the Charity Healthcare System. It was the parent company for all the twenty-seven individual Charity Hospitals which were located from the southern blue ocean water islands of Key West up to the blue sky of northern metro city of North Miami Beach.

A blonde reporter said with a smile into the television lenses. "Health officials hope to contain the outbreak within Kendall. This area happens to be a densely populated area of Miami-Dade County. The epidemic has seen eight dead people, who have been exhumed from the graves. I repeat, exhumed from the graves, specifically graves of eight dead people, who were once medical patients here at Charity Kendall Hospital. This extremely contagious unknown disease has a hundred percent death rate. I will repeat, hundred percent death rate. The death has spread from the exhumed gravesites into neighboring city of Kendall, north to US Highway One and into the community area of Sunnyland and as far south as 109th Avenue which is near the small town of Pinecrest. The strange viral strain continues to swipe at southern Florida with a fast and furious broom sweep resulting in dead people. I will repeat, dead people. This reporter seriously questions with more deadly questions. How can this strange and bizarre, unknown and undetected virus be stopped, in time, to prevent a disaster of Biblical proportions for the metropolitan city known as Miami?"

"We're doing everything possible to stop the spread of this unknown virus," smiled Khan Carlos Lopez, Junior the current Charity Healthcare System PIO (public information officer) and the media personality to the local and visiting media reporters.

A brunette reporter said and stared with a sour frown to the television camera lenses. "Within the past twenty-four hours, Charity Hospital in Kendall has released a tiny statement about a 'mysterious' virus which is plaguing all the satellite hospitals from the small city of Pinecrest up to the tiny city of South Miami. Charity Kendall Hospital had discovered the outbreak of the virus, three days ago. The discovery raises speculation of how long it has existed within the pretty pink painted walls of the known and secretive hospital right behind my collar bone. Strangely even, there are no cases of the hired and paid medical personnel infections or deaths including staff physicians, nurses, therapists, and technicians. Health authorities have identified a potential new kind of health disease called a 'phantom virus.'

"'The virus symptoms are very vague,' says the local health official, who spoke early this morning from the Miami-Dade County Public Health Department. They did not suspect this virus was present, until it hit an epidemic stride of eight unknown dead patients. Get this. The eight unknown dead patients come from eight exhumed grave sites throughout South Florida. To make matters worse almost all of the Charity Hospital medical staff members have fled the treatment centers in the last twelve hours, after the discovery of an additional dead body inside the oncology wing here at Charity Kendall Hospital which is right behind my collar bone too. Medical officials cannot tell us how this disease is acquired, whether the person is infected with a virus contracted through body fluids particularly blood or other biological or chemical process.

"Currently, all health personnel, who are still bravely working inside Charity Kendall Hospital, right behind my collar bone, are required to wear PPE, standing for 'personal protective gear.' The PPE gear aids in the performance of proper sanitation procedures regarding all patients, including NICU babies. However, workers are and have been most likely exposed to this virus, disease, or germ in a short time gap, since the discovery of the latest victim Clifford Burton, a ten-year-old child. This virus, disease, or germ has not been classified by the medical community. Without the proper medical identification, of the contagious and deadly string of infection, we are out of luck. At the present time, there is no known cure or vaccine or treatment for this 'thing,' along with no known symptoms either. A human takes a chance entering any or all Charity Hospitals and who might unluckily acquire the mysterious disease and then die the next day. You should take..."

A blonde media reporter glared to the camera screen, saying with a smile. "CDC, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention will arrive in Kendall today for further investigation and to advice on the level of viral containment to the hospitals and medical community which has been administered by this strange deadly, dangerous, and mysterious disease."

9:01 a.m.

Dr. Jefferson Davis Brandt, Junior

14th floor business office setting

Super president of Charity Healthcare System

"Panic in the streets. Gossip in the hospital. Rumors in the restaurants." Head attorney for Charity Healthcare System Zachary Taylor Jacobs stood in the archway, admiring the tense, nervous, and frustrated Charity Hospital super board members, who were comically nicknamed, supermen and superwoman.

The super-sized presidential office of Jefferson held twenty chairs around the conference table. Today, there were twenty-five bodies stretching lengthwise around the table, in-between the door archway along the windows, and lining even with the book shelved walls, as the supermen and women grunted, grumbled, and griped about the media, the police, and the issue.

"Where was the child?" Superman number one frowned to Jefferson.

"Pediatric suite on the oncology wing," Superman number two answered for Jefferson.

"Oncology? Did the child have cancer also?" Superman number three frowned to Jefferson.

"The oncology ward is also an overflow unit into the hematology ward when no other hospital patient beds are available. We're stuffed to the gills like canned sardines. So I guess it's time to build a new pediatric wing." Superman number two answered for Jefferson.

"We need donor monies to build a new wing. Austin, can you donate the money for the new pediatric wing?" Superman number three smiled to Austin.

Austin sat between Frank and Stu in a row of chair against the wall. Tom had grabbed one of the leather chairs in the wall corner.

"Stop babbling." Jefferson stood and said with a sour frown. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm officially declaring a short media blurb from the Charity Healthcare System board of directors." He clears his throat, saying with a smile and a nod. "The family of Charity Hospitals along with our caring physicians and wonderful staff members deeply regret to inform the good citizens of Miami that Clifford Milton Burton, the third was an innocent victim. The young boy had tragically died from a foiled kidnapping attempt. The secret abductor administrated to our fearless naive patient a fatal toxic substance causing the young Mr. Burton to expire on June first..."

"Damn it to hell." Austin stood, leaning to Jefferson.

Stu stood, holding onto Austin's favored punching arm.

"That's a bold faced lie, Jefferson." Frank stood, jabbing a finger at Jefferson.

"Gentlemen, please let us be civilized," Jefferson smiled to Berrington. "This truly is a tragic and sad incident for the Burton family. The Charity Healthcare System and all the Charity Hospitals have been cleared from any and all charges of neglect regarding this difficult sensitive medical case by our own Miami-Dade Police Chief Leo Trilling. The police have tagged this vicious vile villain as the medical mysterious 'angel of death.' We announce without any medical declaration of harm by submitting this verbal statement and carrying on..."

Austin grinded his teeth in silent angry.

Stu increased his superman strength on Austin's forward pull which was heading straight to Jefferson as Gage swiftly recalled from numerous past historical experiences. If he released his hold, then Austin would viciously attack, over power, and strangle the elderly male with two bare hands that would be eye witnessed by half of the super board members at Charity Healthcare System.

Frank shook his skull at the ridicule situation regarding little Cliffy.

Tom grinned, calmly posing in the comfortable oversized leather chair and observed the executive entertaining antics, sipping on his hot coffee.

Austin exhaled. "This is not finished, Jefferson."

"I'm afraid it is, Austin." Jefferson grinned to Austin.

Austin ordered. "Let's go back home, boys." He jerked his bicep from Stu and led the Quartet out of Jefferson's super presidential office.

9:36 a.m.

Public Relations Department

6th floor business office setting

Director Margo Papp

Wilma Brittany Swope was the third child of Camden and Diane Swope and a graduate from the Miami-Dade University with a journalism degree, four years ago.

She was still continuing her driving ambition of a hot job and pursuing the new "lead" story, grabbing the desired recognition and prestige in the broadcast business. Her biological brothers were very successful in their careers, but she could not boast with the same accomplishment.

Wilma had married two years after college to a nice guy, ending in divorce, and tried a second time with another divorce. So she gave up on men, working on her career instead.

She had mustarded up some good interesting side newspaper stories in her career at the Miami-Dade Newspaper, but she still had not attained that "top billing" for the first page edition. Swope desired an event that was so hot, big, and different, setting her apart from the mainstream reporters.

And the event was the numerous murders at Charity Kendall Hospital.

Wilma could find the dark secrets and the murderer who was hiding inside one of the old hospital wings just waiting to be plucked like ripe fruit on an orange tree.

She sat in the lush private office, bouncing in the chair with a smile and a nod. "Come on, Margo, give me a shot."

Margo Papp was the director of the Public Relations Department at Charity Healthcare System, leaning back into her old and worn leather chair, stapling her finger, saying with a smile and a nod to Wilma. "I honestly don't know what happened here with the dead child. I'm being kept in the dark by the Charity supermen and women. however, working together, we both can benefit, Wilma." She nodded.

"Yes, we can and yes, we can both benefit here." Wilma said with a smile and a nod.

Margo smiled. "I'll get you admitted as a fake patient on the one of the nursing floors. Then you sneak around and gather info and data from the employees, the family members, and the real patients."

"Yes."

Margo said. "After your research progress of the mission, you keep the badge, either hide it or destroy it. But you do not return it back to me, in case of tracing or tracking accidentally by a Charity superman or superwoman."

"Yes." Wilma smiled at the ridicule nickname for the hospital super board members, who ran the healthcare system.

Margo pointed to the wall which represented the street. "We'll meet after work each day at the Rivera Dinner on US One beside the old Rivera movie house. There, you reveal your secrets for the day while night stalking the haunted corridors of the hospital."

"Yes."

Margo smirked. "You tell me everything that you've uncovered. And then I'll give the okay to print it. Of course, your sources are valid but anonymous. Agreed?"

"Yes."

Margo stood, extending her hand. "Good luck. Good hunting."

"Thanks, Margo. I want like you or me down with this hot shot news bulletin." Wilma stood, shaking the hand, moving and leaving the office.

Margo Olivia Papp was the daughter of Arthur and Teresa Papp, one of two girls. Her sister was a homemaker and a mother of two children, while Margo was a single girl and a seeker of fame with dash of jealousy.

Her real goal was revenge.

Super vice president public relations office Khan Carlos Lopez, the third over shadowed, overruled, and over vetoed all of Margo's accomplishments as he was a good looking and socially mannered and polished gentleman, twenty-nine years old.

They were the same age.

So Margo would not be promoted until he resigned or died.

Twenty-four years ago

5:05 p.m.

Sunday June 6th

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north of Miami)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

On the afternoon of June sixth, a semi-tractor trailer hauled boxes of bottled spring water from Tampa, Florida. The driver of the semi-tractor trailer was searching for a small isolated country grocery store for his finally afternoon delivery, then he would exchange a semi-truck for a shotgun to hunt a few wild quail for tonight's supper at his home near the county line. The driver could taste the tender grilled breast fillets, making his tongue water as his devoted and loving wife Myrna was the best damn cook this side of the Mississippi River.

The rubber tires squawked as the other vehicle ran the red traffic light.

"Shit." The driver heard a boom.

The semi-truck collided with the other vehicle as the two moving objects plowed into a wooden shed which pitched lumber, wood, nails, and pellets everywhere.

The driver quickly exited his cab, running around the busted lumber to the mini-van.

The driver of the mini-van had been crushed and killed between two wooden pole lines of the electricity power transformer. The little wooden shed was a HUB station for the Georgia Power and Light Company. One of many relay stations built on the backwoods country road for generating power, light, heat, and electricity for both the rural farms and residential houses in Athens, Georgia.

The driver saw an array of bright blue electricity beams surround and bombard the outside metal of the mini-van. The other occupants of the mini-van were safe inside vehicle with the rubber tires from the electricity current. On the passenger side, a young female fought with her door handle to get it open.

The driver ran back to his cab and grabbed his baseball bat. He had crafted the bat with his two hands and used it for protection on the back roads of Georgia during the water delivery job for his safety.

An elderly woman with graying hair screamed from her car, moving and pointing to the family mini-van with the trapped young couple, stopping and standing behind the truck driver.

He turned and shouted to her. "Stay back! Hot wires."

"The baby, save the baby. My daughter's in labor," the elderly woman screamed with fright, worry, and tears.

"Shit." He turned and moved, standing and rearing back the baseball bat, and hit one of the fallen poles off the mini-van, causing vertical strikes of blue and yellow electricity surge. He aimed and smashed the baseball bat at the rear van door until it bent and torn open, leaping inside the interior of the mini-van to help the mother-to-be.

He slowly climbed and finally reached the semi-conscious female, who was bow tied to her seat belt, twisting and rotating the captain chair to his face, seeing that the female was both safe and breathed.

The female mumbled, touching her exposed belly, "Baby."

He squatted and reached down underneath her dress, checking between her legs, feeling an opening that was getting wider and wider with red blood trailing over the car seat and his forearm.

The baby was not waiting for the end of the thunderstorm or the emergency personnel as he desperately searched the mini-van for items to deliver a newborn. He turned and shouted instructions to the elderly woman for immediately help, finding a medical kit in the side glove compartment along with a suitcase of the female clothes.

The female moaned and screamed in labor pain, "Baby..."

He had four rug rats of his own and enjoyed the celebration of all their happy births in a sterile hospital environment with a set of professional physician, nurses, and paid medical medications that did all the hard work for the mother-to-be. He ripped her dress from her body, revealing her opening, since the baby was not waiting for the ambulance either.

A pink bald hairless skull cleared the opening passageway with ease.

The female looked pale, bloody, and swollen in her face and her two hands, maybe due to internal bleeding in her biological body. Red and brown blood was everywhere coming from her vagina.

His fingers touched the crowing skull of the baby and he shook the arm of unconscious female, yelling. "Push. Push hard. Your baby's coming out."

The female moaned as a pinky bald head cleared the birth canal then a right shoulder and then a left shoulder as a windy thunderstorm kicked up outside the wooden shed which held the mini-van with rolling thunder and heavy rain.

The tiny baby was delicate compared to the monster infants of nine pounds that his wife delivered which also ripped her female private parts to shreds.

The female screamed from pain.

"Push, push harder." He shouted as the baby leaped into his arms looking bloody, pink, warm, not crying.

The baby was dead.

He slapped the naked baby buttocks as the tiny thing mewed. Then he slapped the naked baby buttocks for a second time.

The baby screamed with a set of healthy lungs and violently spat up mucus from a tiny mouth too.

He used a soft nightgown from the female's personal suitcase, wiping out the clear fluid in the baby's mouth as the baby breathed and squawked with life. He completely cleaned off the newborn baby with the other clothes from the suitcase, gently wrapping the newborn in a soft bathroom robe.

"Give me the child," a deep baritone rumbled behind the rear skull of the driver.

The driver thought for a split-second that God Almighty had startled him into consciousness as the baby cried for attention again.

The paramedic reached, grabbed, and cradled the infant into his chest and crawled backward on his kneecaps and outside the mini-van, standing in the rain with a stern face.

The driver crawled backward out of the mini-van too, standing in the rain also.

The paramedic un-wrapped the bathroom robe and double checked for any wound injuries or bruising on the newborn infant.

A cloud of loud thunder stopped as the heavy rained cease and the gale winds slowly died down to a calm breeze. A solar sun brilliantly shone between a peak of black and purple storm clouds, beaming down a tiny bright white light on a tiny babe in the two arms of the paramedic.

Then a single horizontal strike of blue and yellow bolt of lightning raced and loudly cracked against a blackish-blue sky line.

"I be damn. Look at that," the paramedic softly voiced.

"What!?" The driver turned and viewed the newborn baby.

"A baby girl," the paramedic smiled down at the child.

The new grandmother moved and stood beside the paramedic, sobbing with her tears. "I have a granddaughter."

"Alive and kicking. Look at her go," the paramedic tickled her baby naked toes for a reflex test, smiling down at the newborn girl.

"She's adorable," the driver smiled, patting the grandmother on the forearm, watching the naked legs and feet of the baby kick in the air.

"Thank you," the grandmother pointed to the wooden shed with tears that held the mini-van. "My daughter?"

One of the sheriff deputies joined the small huddle with two more paramedics.

"Sorry, ma'am, her daddy's crushed at the steering wheel," the driver told the paramedics, the deputies, and the grandmother.

The grandmother sobbed and cradled the baby. "Thank you. Ya saved Athena. Her mama had selected that particular name for her, since we live in the city of Athens." She covered Athena with a blanket from the paramedic and entered the rear of the ambulance for the long trip to the local hospital.

Athena was okay, alive, and safe and her grandmother was very happy and very sad.

A dark set of thunder cranked up with a thunder cloud, hail, and rain, pouring down from the heavens as the black clouds blocked the yellow sunshine.

Athens was a very quaint southern town with a movie house, numerous fast food diners, and a handful of family owned eating restaurant and one public state university. Athens University graduated an array of mathematical engineers, computer programmers, and aerospace scientists from all over the world.

Athena was pronounced healthy and fit to go home as her parents were pronounced dead on arrival. Later in the week, her grandmother cremated the bodies and buried the remains between a maple and oak tree surrounding a woodland church in Athens.

The good news traveled faster than light speed around the city of Athens as an exaggerated story of Athena's birth was revealed. The media television and newspaper reporters gathered at the entrance of emergency room, snapping colorful pictures of the baby during a heavy down pour of a summertime rainy thunderstorm of the newborn's arrival inside an ambulance.

When her grandmother exited the hospital underneath the hospital's veranda and displayed a tiny Athena inside a white blanket, the nasty thunderstorm immediately ceased. A bright warm sun shone and warmed the wet city streets, painting a big colorful rainbow with an arch of a blue across the skyline. Her grandmother gently covered the baby's head with the blanket.

The rainbow vanished and replaced with a series of horizontal bright yellow and blue streaking lightning bolts. Everyone was both stunned and surprised with the quick change of the weather elements.

The EMS personnel, photographers, and reporters marked the day as the birth of Athena by printing and running story for three days in the small town's newspaper The Athens Post. The newspaper produced the current events of Athens and Athenians and not any world national news across the globe.

Planet Earth could be battling in World War III for control of the US Federal Government, but the small town of Athens would not know or even care, since the front page of the newspaper showed a son, a daughter, a grandson, a granddaughter, a great grandson, or a great granddaughter in a colored picture, picking a daisy from the family flower garden or eating a peach from the family peach tree.

And that was the best new story for the day in Athens, Georgia.

The local and state news media including the television reporters and journalists interviewed the water delivery guy, the sheriff deputies, the hospital eyewitnesses, the paramedics, and her grandmother. Then one the creative media reporter wrote a brilliant fairy tale of a baby who had survived an electromagnetic charge inside an electricity relay station during a violently lightning thunderstorm.

When Athena had emerged from her dead mother's wound, planet Earth had stood still for a few seconds. The rain had stopped and the thunder had ceased. A blue sky covered the land as the yellow light shined on the baby's pink face.

When Athena's face was covered with a blanket, planet Earth shook. The loud thunder boomed and yellow lightning bolt cracked across a black sky. A down pour of rain announced the birth of a tiny goddess here in Athens.

The media had fun in nicknaming the infant girl, Goddess, because the baby girl could make the sky, the land, and the sea shake. At the hospital, her grandmother spelled the baby's name as Athena and not spelled the Roman goddess of love Athene.

In ancient times, Athene, the goddess was worshiped during the Roman Empire days, but this present day, Athena, the goddess was close enough for the backwards country folks of Athens, Georgia.

Present time and place

Thursday June 3rd

1:49 p.m.

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north of Miami)

Athens University

Parking lot setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Athena Alexandria Assay laughed, sitting inside her car, recalling the goddess tale of her birth.

Her grandmother always entertained her only grandchild when Athena was lonely or sad, making her happy with the amazing story.

She turned and viewed the building, tapping on the new college textbook. This was her last academic course of the mini-semester and then she would graduate with a degree in accounting. However, Athena did not have a paying job like the rest of her graduating class in the state of Georgia because of a tanked US economy.

She did not have a single prospect for a paying job either, since she had been looking around for an employment opportunity like the rest of the college graduates, because there were not any new jobs with any new positions.

The business companies were not hiring in the depressed US economy.

She exhaled with a puff of frustration, sliding out the car, and stood.

The rain and thunder began.

Athena ran from her car to the building with a grin and a giggle.

1:51 p.m.

Athens University

Professor Fabian Icarius classroom setting

Physics academic course

Baby Born from Thunder, it read on the front newspaper page of the ancient Athens Post. The newspaper was printed and dated twenty-four years ago in the month of June on the sixth day of the year.

He unfolded the old newspaper article, reading the printed papers from the internet. She was nicknamed the goddess, who had been delivered during a thunderstorm in Athens, Georgia, not Greece.

Currently, the baby was a senior college student at Athens University, taking the last semester of classes which included a general science course of physics. She was about to graduate with an accounting degree, waiting on her CPA examination result for a job as an accountant.

The rain hit the window panes as the thunder rolled across a black sky.

Fabian stood and dashed to the window, lifting the binoculars to see her with a whisper and a grin. "She's the one that creates the really weird and most odd frequent lightning bolt occurrences without the normal weather patterns of an accompanying heavy rain and noisy thunder clouds." He dropped his mouth and the binoculars in shock. "What are you, freaky girl?"
Friday June 4th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Last quarter moon with fair skies and warm temperatures

"No!" He thrashed side to side and sat up, viewing the peach wall.

"Austin," she said with a moan in the pillow with her closed eyelashes.

"Cliffy..." he whispered and viewed the opposite wall.

"He's dead," she mumbled in the pillow.

He wiped the sweat from his face and grabbed and fluffed the pillow, twisting and lying on his stomach, vividly recalling a third nightmare death of Cliffy's father, Clifford.

He did not sleep.

6:47 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (five miles west of Coral Gables)

QUARTET ASSOCIATES 212 Miracle Mile

CEO Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV

33rd floor business office suite one setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

Coral Gables was located one of South Florida's most privileged business and residential community which was lovingly nicknamed City Beautiful.

Quartet Associates was a five-acre plot of land which was located on the famous city street Miracle Mile, walking distance to one hundred thirty plus businesses, consisting of corporations, elegant shops, international restaurants, and art galleries. The thirty-third story office building sat in the heart of Coral Gables, Florida which offered 375,000 square feet of office suites, conference rooms, libraries, audio and visual rooms, restaurants on the fourth floor, two basketball courts, three indoor track and fitness centers on the eighth floor.

The entire building was wired with a high-tech security camera system, an in-service money bank on the second floor, below street level parking garage with free car wash services too and a helicopter pad on the roof. The building offered the employed staff a panoramic view from Ponce de Leon grass park as far as Biscayne Bay, depending on your corner office at Quartet Associates.

The single tallest tower in the Gables displayed the finest imported earth elements of marble, granite, brass, wood work, and stained glass windows. The four mini pink granite water fountains shot water in the air at each geographical corner of the office building for fun, because fresh water was a hot premium in sizzling South Florida.

Austin's private suite ran the street length of north to south which was parallel to Miracle Mile. There were two undivided windows between a six-foot wall which was painted in stark white on the east side. The west wall displayed a single office door with a two-way mirror that surrounded the vertical sides of the entrance door.

The vertical mirrors reflected any wandering friends or awaiting foes of Austin.

The northwest corner of Austin's space, a single white leather chaise lounge was crammed in the corner of two walls with a small side table, where Tom sat in his usual resting nook.

The southwest corner of Austin's space, two oversized white leather chairs sat between a long table, where Stu lounged on the left and Frank seat on the right which was diagonally from Austin's empty office desk.

The north and south wall space was empty and devoid of books, wooden shelving, art paintings, and metal cabinets, holding only white paint which gleaned and glittered against the Florida sunshine from a nice bright morning sunrise.

A female of medium height, shoulder length brown hair, and sad eyes blocked the archway of Austin's office, not smiling, "Austin, good morning. Thanks for seeing me so early in the day. I'll get to my point quickly, Austin. My grandmother died in Charity Kendall Hospital, last night."

Austin escorted her to Frank's chair, sitting his ass on the edge of his empty office desk and said with a sad frown and a nod. "I'm so sorry, Bree. Can I do anything to help you and your family?"

Bree briefly smiled and said with a sour frown. "This is the reason for my sudden visit, Austin. Granny was housed on the oncology ward of Charity Kendall Hospital as an observation patient for her last checkup. Without warning, I received a telephone from her attending physician, her heart stopped. Granny ceased breathing a little before midnight. Granny had leukemia, but her latest prognosis was good. The cancer remised. Suddenly, she died Wednesday night without any reasonable medical explanation from her attending physician or any Charity medical personnel or any one of the consulting cancer doctors. I'm both shocked and horrified. I've ordered a private autopsy to verify the medical cause before her funeral. I feel strange and upset about this abusive treatment of my grandmother, Austin. Something's not right here."

Austin nodded. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Bree. Your grandmother was a wonderful lady. I want you to know that I'm personally investigating Charity Kendall Hospital on abuse grounds, regarding my godson's death, as well. I'll add your grandmother's medical case to this. Don't worry. Charity will be providing answers for your grandmother, my godson, and many more graves. I'll see to your granny's review, personally," smiling.

Bree exhaled and stood, moving to the archway, swinging around to see Austin and smiled. "Thank you, Austin. I knew you could help me. I'd feel better knowing what Granny really died of, once I have placed her inside the grave." Bree turned to the archway, moving to the elevators, exiting off the thirty third executive suite of Quartet Associates.

Austin stood in the archway, watching Bree step in the elevators, leaning against the door frame, folding his arms.

First, Cliffy and now Bree's grandmother, both bodies had died of mysterious deaths at the same Charity Kendall Hospital within a couple of days of each other.

1:40 p.m.

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north of Miami)

Athens University

Physics classroom setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Fabian tapped his fingers on the binoculars with a new sense of scientific curiosity. He had noted for the past six months the really weird and odd frequency of lightning bolt occurrences without the normal weather patterns of an accompanying heavy rain and noisy thunder clouds on the dirt at the university campus.

Presently, he had the 'baby that was born during a thunderstorm' as an academic student in his classroom. She was completing a last minute requirement of science before receiving her college degree from Athens University. And Fabian had been conducting an array of harmless minor high school type experiments inside his classroom laboratory when the college students were present without interfering with his regular lecture or his secret observations.

The high school physics tests were simply rudimentary in scope but the results and outcomes were tattling intricate.

Athena was hot, a temperature hottie. Her bio-medical scan was off the radar chart when a Geiger counter was pointed at her biological body at rest in a sitting pose inside his laboratory classroom. Athena was present studying and reading her academic text book of physics.

She lived. She breathed. She ate. She walked. She talked.

So she was a freak of nature which was something like the mysterious angel of death person in Miami, Florida. The mysterious murderer of numerous exhumed dead people possessed an awesome hidden ability to kill all living beings without leaving a single visual puncture mark of evidence like the infamous heavenly angel of death.

A couple of days ago, Fabian had acquired and setup a backup generator for ensuring power to the overhead lighting inside his science room, so the power outlets would not be harm the academic students during one of his high school experiments. The overhead lamps flecked off then on, then off, then on, and then finally stayed illuminated as Athena entered through the archway of his classroom yesterday as she performed her magic trick without the use of equipment or a single silent prayer.

Fabian possessed a doctoral of physics. But he could not explain how she turned the electronic instruments off and on without physically touching the metal with one of her ten finger pads. "Simply impossible..."

He had watched and observed Athena from a few days of the mini-session, recording all his empirical data by collecting, analyzing, listening, learning, and re-learning. Fabian was educated and trained to be a good scientist, doing his research, his investigation, and his homework like a good student. He also had researched lots of college and library text books in regard to the concept of a wave of light too.

A single visible light consists of many streams of tiny waves. Fifty thousand light waves stretch across the distance of an inch, which is called, a wave length. Some light waves are short. Some light waves are long.

Waves of different lengths produce lights of different colors. The longest wavelength is a deep red color. The shortest wave to the naked eye is a deep violet tone. In between the longest and the shortest colored waves, the waves vary in colors from orange, yellow, green, and blue like a rainbow after a summer rain shower.

Light bends as it passes down from the air and around another object. So the shorter the wave length, the more it bends.

William Herschel had discovered a series of the extra-long light waves called infrared rays that lie below a deep red line of light. Johann Wilhelm Ritter had found the extra short waves which were called ultraviolet rays that lived beyond the violet.

Fabian could see a very faint pinky-pink color hue around the physical body of Athena as she moved outside and inside the college classroom with his infrared coated instruments.

Electromagnetism is the combination of electricity and magnetism. It was discovered by James Clerk Maxwell. Objects carry electricity. Objects are magnetic which produce an electromagnetic field that fills an empty space around them. Electromagnetic field produces many waves of electromagnetic radiation.

The pink tinted faint wave around Athena was an electromagnetic field which was also tinged with a small amount of tiny radiation.

There are many different types of electromagnetic radiation from a set of long waves down to a set of the short ones in the formats of radio waves, microwaves, infrared rays, visible sunlight, ultraviolet rays, x-rays, and gamma rays which was exposed to a human body on a daily basis.

Fabian had prepared a finale science experiment inside his college laboratory classroom today which would identify her wave format.

Light is a form of energy and energy is a form of work.

When a beam of a natural or a man-made light hit upon the moving or stationary biological body of Athena without harm, she turned her wave format into a visual of pink energy.

Max Karl Planck discovered that the way hot objects gave off energy was called quantum theory. In his experiments, he figured out electromagnetic radiation of different wave lengths.

Fabian had theorized a new format that electromagnetic radiation came from a human object and not a physical object, based on all his academic and experimental models inside his science classroom.

Tiny chunks of light are called photons. Different electromagnetic radiation photons possess a set of different wave lengths. The shorter the wave length; the greater the energy of the photon. A colored light of violet photon has twice the energy of a red photon from a wave length. Therefore, a color of violet could do more work with more energy with more photons. A wave length longer than the color of red carries less energy. Infrared rays have less than visible light. A microwave has least color. Radio waves have the least energy. It works in reverse for the shorter wavelength. Ultraviolet rays have shorter wave lengths than visible light and more energy. X-rays has more energy, while gamma rays have the most energy which has been discovered by the smart scientists on Earth, so far.

Fabian carefully lifted the binoculars into his brown eyes. "Right on time..."

Athena crossed the wooden bridge over the small creek.

The eye pieces were coated with a set of special infrared rays for him to distinguish many different forms of colored wavelengths. Fabian read her mystical aura which was a term in a metaphysical world that was represented by a circle of many colors around a life form.

However, Athena was displaying a pink light that was being emitted around a body that shot up to the baby blue sky and directly into the heaven.

So he had concluded that she was a new form of energy.

This fantastic scientific finding would be difficult to comprehend for the average simple human mind.

However, Fabian was not simple but complex. He pondered the meanings and benefits of his new life energy force.

Pink was akin to both red and purple colors on the prism stone.

Academic textbooks sighted that an individual could feel or sense an increase in energy as a wave lengths grew shorter. For example, radio waves surrounded an individual in the form of radio and television stations broadcasts, but radiation measurements were too low to harm humans. Direct bright hot sunlight could darken or burn the exterior human skin, depending on an individual's chemical skin type and amount of sunlight exposure from sun. For sensitive individuals, the result was skin cancer.

Fabian wondered if the low radiation exposure from her body could cause any type of side effects to humans, plants, and animals. "Apparently not..."

Athena was twenty-four years old, attending and studying college academic classes around him, her fellow college students, and her college instructors, as well as, her high school, middle, elementary, and play school friends and family members for many years. She and they would not have lived this long, if she could beam people to death with her pretty pink wave.

He laughed at his loco nutty scientific conclusion. If he tried to explain this new science fiction working theory to a fellow physics colleague, he would be laughed out of the university.

X-rays and gamma rays were more dangerous than ultraviolet rays from the sun and could cause death.

He did not believe that her lethal but valuable energy could cause death. However, Fabian had found his new lab rat which he nicknamed the "goddess" all the more interesting, fascinating, and thrilling.

A cool object gives off a set of cool electromagnetic radiation photons. A heated object absorbs the photons, making the object warmer.

A wave of electromagnetic radiation always trends from a warm place to a cool place which evens out the temperature range. This process is called an emission of radiation.

His mind clicked both fast and furious with next logical scientific step like a mad man for her and her unharnessed power.

As an object becomes hotter, the photons production increases with more energy. That means an intermediate wave length of photons would give off a set of both frequent and shorter wave lengths in a hot object rather than in a cold object.

Radios and microwaves are cold objects of radiation.

A human body is slightly warm and gives off an infrared ray as it is seen through a set of infrared eye glasses. These particular types of infrared eye glasses were used by the police department, military services, and sporting game hunters for prey.

If you heat something very high, a set of visible light photons gives up and forms of a series of long waves red colored heated and hot rays. Heat an object longer and longer, more and more visible light gives up and forms a series of short waves of photons that appear white colored heated and hot rays.

The red surface of the sun is white hot from more and more heated shorter wave lengths. A bonfire on planet Earth is fire and is not heated and hot like the sun's surface. A bonfire fire burns in the colors of yellow or orange. The colors of yellow and orange heat contain a set of energy atoms that moves around and jostles each other, creating a series of additional wave lengths. When a set of flinging energy atoms transfer their individual photons from atom to atom and then scatter the atoms particles out as the photons collide with other wave lengths and particles.

Her pink photons were spraying outward from her body and into all different directions and over a whole range of different wave lengths. So she was creating her own set of tiny electromagnetic mini-storms.

Fabian had eye witnessed the tiny electromagnetic mini-storms outside the window of his classroom every day when she was moved outside but not inside his classroom. Thus, he had discovered a new life form of energy.

Atom particles of scattered photons of wave lengths included a ray of true sunlight, a bonfire, a candle, an electric light bulb, a hot kettle, and Miss Athena Alexandria Assay. Since she was about to become the newest wave length in the universe.

Fabian turned around from the window with a smirk, pressing a button to record the historical event inside his science classroom.

As each student, including the goddess, cleared the archway on the open door, an electronic eye winked and then triggered the latch to lift. The latch would release a few droplet of cold tap water from a tiny tin pail and would dump down on each set of dry hair roots.

Then Fabian would see all the physical reactions and hear the verbal reactions but most importantly a single video tape recording of her chemical reaction within a hidden camera that was located underneath his school desk for recording her pink colored wave length pattern shiftations.

The first student entered through the archway as the electronic trigger reacted. Then the tiny pail tilted and spilled a tiny splash of water over the hair roots on the student. "Shit..."

The second student entered and shouted in angry, after the water splashed over the hair roots too. "Damn..."

"Hey, dude, someone's getting hurt." The third student entered the room with a sneer, after getting a wet head.

"My hair?" The fourth student entered the room, after getting wet and touching her wet hair.

"Someone's going to die." The fifth student entered the room with a snarl, after getting wet too.

Each student continued to move through the open archway with a set of curses and a head of wetness as Fabian laughed with enjoyment for the first time in five years, since he had been exiled to the dull university life style. He moved from the window and sat on the top of his empty teacher desk with a smile and a nod in front of the students. "Calm down, classroom experiments. You've been very good lab rats. So I'll reward all the lab rats the letter grade of 'A' for the day. How does that suit you? You passed your physics course for the week. Congratulations!"

"Man, all worth it." The first student clapped with a nod and a smile, shaking his wet hair roots.

"I passed." The second student clapped with a nod and a smile too.

"I had an 'A' anyways." Norman frowned.

"Stow it, Norman." The third student slapped Norman on the collar bone with a grin.

Fabian smiled. "Thanks for indulging my wet dreams. But I announce foolishly that I'm gone from here at the end of the mini-session on June thirty. And I am starting my own consulting company in Miami, Florida. My third intriguing announcement for the graduating students, I mean for those of you who can graduate that is. I am also accepting offers for a new internship, a paid internship with my new firm also."

"Why not here, professor?" The first student frowned.

Fabian laughed, "Ya hot fudging with me, right?"

"In Florida?" The second student frowned.

"Too far," The third student shook his skull.

"Set up here in Athens instead, professor." The fourth student smiled.

Fabian smiled. "Miami is a beautiful city with beautiful half-naked girls and full naked gays."

"Interns?" The first student frowned.

"Paying jobs?" The second student smiled with a nod.

"Jobs?" The third student smiled.

"I'll go." Norman lifted both his arms with a smile.

"You're not graduating, Norman." The fourth student laughed.

Fabian slapped his chest with a smile and a nod. "I will pay you for the work for me. But you must work. I will be seeking finance, as well as, math and science candidates."

"Consulting what for?" The first student asked.

Fabian smirked with a nod. "My new firm will be auditing bank and banking money procedures."

"Banking industry?" The second student frowned.

"Money?" The third student said.

"Knowing Icarius, it is money laundering." Peter smirked.

"Peter, do not bother giving me your resume ever." Fabian jabbed a finger at the student with an evil smirk.

"You're going count all the George Washington's, Professor Fabian?" The first student laughed.

"Something like that," Fabian chuckled.

"I'm there." The second student lifted his arms with a smile and a nod for attention.

"I don't want to leave Athens." The third student frowned.

"I'll go. Pick me." The fourth student waved both arms with a smile and a nod.

Fabian nodded with a grin. "To all graduating students, think about this new opportunity with banks of money and banks of sand. I'll be accepting resumes..."

"Formally typed?" The first student smiled.

"Twelve font or fourteen?" The second student laughed.

"Can it be on blue paper?" The third student nodded.

Fabian laughed with humor. "Any size letters with personal interest of this internship written in crayons, if need be?"

"I can do that." The first student nodded.

"That's the only writing instrument he owns." Ralph laughed.

"Stop it, Ralph." The first student turned and sneered at Ralph.

"Pick me? I wanna go. And I can write with ink pens." The second student slapped a chest with a smile.

"Present them to me, after I dismiss the session. The second part of this internship includes a Miami apartment plus all paid utilities, meals, gas, car rental, furniture, and furnishings. All the before mentioned items are free for the first six months. You will have to find your own girls and guys thou. I am not supplying your entertainment." Fabian smiled.

"Take me please." The first student nodded with a nod.

"I'm in." The second student smiled.

"I'm still not leaving Athens." The third student frowned.

Fabian smiled. "Since you have a new purpose in life and you're dripping wetness of water on the worn wooden desks, I will dismiss this session today. Go. Get out. Class over. Create and leave me some of your résumé letters. Or if you are really anal then leave your pretty résumé on top of my empty desk from today and forward. I will be making a decision before the last day of the mini-session which is the last day of June, the twenty ninth." He stood and moved to the rear of the room for the closed door.

The door opened.

Fabian entered and turned to see into the peek hole.

Some of the students shuffled out of the classroom and into a crowded hallway for the next class. Some of the students stayed behind in a tight huddle with a set of whispers and nods.

Athena sat inside her desk and wrote inside her notebook. She was brave, curious, and intrigued also.

Fabian turned with a smile, moving to a small science laboratory which had been provided by the university. The work counters housed an array of portal and mounted cameras, audio, and visual mechanic equipment pieces, blank tapes, video players, and recorders. He stopped and slapped the rewind button, waiting for a few seconds and smashed the play button, viewing the video tape during the water splash down exhibition, swiftly scanning with his eyeballs and his neurons the recording at 2.5 speed time. He found and located Athena on the tiny computer screen and halted the still frame while studying her body with a bright pink aura with a smirk.

Her pink color cooled down into many tiny different specks of colors of red, orange, yellow, and then back up into the precious hue of pinky-pink as the warm air assaulted over her golden goddess skin.

Fabian grinned with his evil intentions. "Excellent, she absorbs all the hot photons like a steam iron." He reached and adjusted a set of small knobs on the still frame, playing it forward and backward, using his smart IQ plus his learned physics knowledge. "She's polychromatic."

Polychromatic means only one color and one wavelength. All her photons moved in one direction as her pink light was incoherent and did not stick together, creating a set of numerous bands of pink hot energy of an electromagnetic radiation field.

Dead scientist Charles Townes had produced a strong beam of waves using ammonia molecule of gas inside his private science laboratory. Townes had realized that to excite all the atoms he had to keep them excited by heat. He used an electric current, a beam of light or a chemical reaction.

If Fabian could do it, then he could stimulate a multi-colored band, getting a larger beam of wave with both more energy and more power. Once the molecules were excited and stimulated by a light source, all the extra photons would emit and then in a fraction of a second excite all the pink molecules in the air waves as the pink molecules hit and bounced off an object or many objects.

Dead scientist Charles Townes also built the first maser, a microwave amplification system which was stimulated by an emission of radiation.

"My pretty goddess isn't giving out microwave rays. But her wave length can be used. How to use her? I don't know yet." Fabian whispered for his eardrums only.

Masers are amplifiers. If a maser is exposed to radiation from outer space, the photons are excited, casting a beam of microwaves out from the maser. Scientists had found it easy to detect the beam than the set of original photons. This made the maser a very sensitive detector and helped modern day astronomers learn more about outer space.

Fabian laughed with a grin and a nod. "This is better than outer space. This is true science fiction in the making." He looked down and opened the academic textbook for more scientific information.

A microwave beam is coherent. It does not spread out even over an array of long distances when it is aimed in the right direction. For example, a beam can travel out the way to the planet of Venus and then reflect off the planet of Venus as a microwave echo. The microwave echo can be detected when it returns back to planet Earth.

Fabian whispered for his eardrums only, "I don't want her detected. I mean not her wave length." He looked up with a stern face to study her output results of the simple water test, comparing it to the science textbook examples.

A microwave echo travels at the light of speed, the time between an emission of the beam and a detection of the echo to the planet of Venus. Therefore, the measurement is clock minutes.

Fabian whispered for his eardrums only, "If I could get her wave length to travel for five seconds, what would happen? What could happen? She could become a weapon of mass destruction." He flipped the pages with a nod and a laugh, reviewing the new topic, "Lasers?"

Masers produce a set of beams of microwaves of one-dimensional wave length. Laser is a device that produces a coherent monochromatic beam of light, hence the term Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation.

Dead scientist Theodore Maiman built the first laser.

"No..." He turned the page, reading in silence.

Coherent light has been detected from a set of astronomical objects which are the outer space clouds of thin gas which are located in places between the stars as they are called interstellar clouds.

"No..." He turned the next page.

Lasers use a set of mirror to move the direction of the coherent light.

"She ain't no mirror," He flipped to the next page of data. "Lasers can produce coherent light in varied amounts. However, she doesn't reflect. Lasers are the key and are very useful." He laughed. "She is very useful too. And I finally have figured out how to use her. Phase one is complete. Now, I must begin Phase two." Fabian slapped the book shut with a grunt, reaching and pressing the rewind button to replay the water splash down recording with a smile.

4:14 p.m.

Athens University

Faculty lounge setting

Between the academic classes, all the university instructors gathered and collected inside the enclosed and windowless lounge for the free food trays and the silly intellectual conversation.

"Fabian Icarius," the tall and obese male with a head of grayish-black head spoke with a tenor timber at the shared eating table and stood from his metal chair between three academic instructions with a smirk and a nod. "You're a god."

"Actually, I'm a constellation." Fabian continued to review the selected science book for more information about wave lengths which was connected to his latest science project.

"Pardon me," the short male stood with a laugh and a nod to see the brown colored hair roots on Fabian, holding an empty food plate on the food tray.

Fabian looked up with a smile. "In Greek legend, Icarius was an Athenian, who taught about the cultivation of the vine. This knowledge was provided by the god of wine, who was named Dionysus. Icarius was carelessly slain by some a gang of intoxicated peasants. They buried the dead body underneath a tree found. But it was discovered by a howling dog of his kin. The daughter dug up the grave, wept, and then committed her own pretty suicide. Then Icarius became the constellation in the sky."

The short male laughed, shaking his skull at Fabian. "I really don't like fairy tales." He turned and moved to the garage bins, dumping the used plate and food items, swinging around to the archway.

The door opened.

"This is Roman mythology, associate professor of finance." Fabian continued to read and sipped the coffee.

The door closed.

"That either," a short female stood with a chuckle and a nod, turning and leaving the lounge behind the associate professor of finance.

The door opened.

"Fabian was a society of socialists that formed a group of intellectuals in the year 1884, a society of socialists for the battement of mankind." Fabian continued to review the book and sipped the coffee.

The door closed.

"You're a socialist?" A tall male stood with a sour frown, turning and moving to the garage bin and emptied his trash, spinning to the archway also.

The door opened.

"I am not." Fabian sipped his coffee.

The door closed.

"How does all this help mankind?" A tall woman stood with a sour frown, turning and moved to the archway for her next academic class.

The door opened.

"Man and woman. All those and these shine only to me, you may bow down now." Fabian dropped the book and pointed down to the floor with a chuckle and a smile.

The other instructor Ned Nessle chuckled at the lack of a title as the current finance instructor, working part time, teaching three finance academic courses to any one that wandered into his assigned academic classroom. "I like the way your think, sir." He turned and dove into the dessert, thinking that he had ever met a constellation until now.

Fabian was known as the "exotic eccentric loony toony" professor on the Athens University campus along with his professional outer space tales of academics and trades. One of the most inventive or dangerous storyline, depending on your personal safety, he had been dismissed by the director of NSI for a royal fuckingly screw-up while single handedly damaging a multi-billion-dollar outer space satellite into the outer space moon surface.

Thus, Dr. Fabian Icarius quietly and patiently waits with his one dream of the plotted evil revenge against the entire planet Earth.

He had via the school gossip in his possession a sawed off shotgun and patiently waited to shoot up all the NSI bastards right between a pair of hairy eyebrows for ruining his brilliant scientific career when the time was right for Fabian, not the bastards. After being booted out of NSI, Fabian could not find an engineering job in his field of study or within the US states of Texas, Alabama, or Florida. These particularly US States housed a NSI outer space project from the space shuttle to satellite defensive weapon development. Thus, ending the demon tale, the genius weird PhD landed and settled in Athens, not Greece with the Georgia fools, not the Greek gods.

Fabian smiled at young male with a head of brown hair roots. "Galimatias."

Ned held the fork of food in the air, looking up with a sour frown to see Fabian. "Pardon me?"

Fabian smiled. "Nonsense, gibberish, I said."

The male biology instructor stood with a chuckle, turning to the archway. "Speak English, Professor Icarius."

The door opened.

"He is speaking intelligently from his own alien planet, somewhere up there." The female world history instructor pointed up to the ceiling and stood from her metal chair also, swinging a queen-sized figure to the archway for her next teaching session for the evening while draining the can of diet soda.

The door closed.

"I'm here to help you, the kindness of man, the evil world of sin, and the universe of all aliens." Fabian smiled with a nod.

The door opened and closed.

"More like your pocketbook, right, space man?" A bald, obese, older male English instructor stood with a laugh and a grin and swung to the closed archway.

The door opened.

"The gall of bitterness." Fabian chuckled.

The door closed.

Ned shifted a short column of test papers to the side of his elbow, reaching and grabbing a warm cup of coffee and sipped. The first days of the mini-session was the worst time for any academic instructor as the academic students loudly complained about the required class room time and required the class tests, since some of the students were on an academic scholarship or a federal grant or an academic probation. And Ned did not really like teaching academic classes of finance or fitness either.

This teaching thing started out as a side job for Ned to meet young pretty single girls, the wrong side job to meet young pretty single girls.

Ned exhaled with an eye gleam to Fabian, who occupied the end chair of the shared eating table for some strange reason as he and Fabian were the only instructors left inside the facility lounge.

Ned did not want to be perturbed especially tonight as he was required to evaluate and grade each academic student's proficiency in the area of finance with a simple examination. Or the student would declare and claim that he or she didn't understand the concept of money or the conversation of finance from the employed academic instructor as the student earned a low academic grade that jeopardized the free scholarship or the free grant monies. Then the student would verbal complain to the dean of finance, Ned would lose his side money making job at the university.

Today, all the unemployed students wanted everything for free without suffering and sacrifice for an academic education.

Fabian Icarius wanted everything for fun as the weird-ass guy around the campus.

Ned understood the absence of all the evening instructors when the Constellation arrived and settled inside the facility lounge for a snack or a beverage. He sipped the warm coffee, studying Fabian for a bit of amusement.

"The sinfulness of the sin, I have committed." Fabian turned and smiled at the two inched stacks of test papers from the overachieved older employed work force within Athens, Georgia.

"I like to sin too," Ned wiggled the pen with a laugh inside the other hand.

"I got a victory too, today." Fabian smiled.

"How so?" Ned turned and marked a set of red lines on the next examination test. This student did not understand the simple concept of monetary finance. How did he manage his own personal bank account? The student probably was getting free money from his parents, since all academic students did that these days. However, Ned worked for every single one percent copper molded penny since his birth in Athens, Georgia.

"I'll been experimenting with science. I have discovered a new product for the world market." Fabian smiled at the hair roots on Ned, sensing the man's stress of academic life and materialize world of dissatisfaction.

"What is it?" Ned marked more red lines with more wrong answers.

"Are you interested in sharing in my victory tonight?" Fabian smiled.

"What kind of victory?" Ned looked up with a stern face and sipped the warm coffee.

"The kind that comes with money, lots and lots of money." Fabian slapped the textbook shut with a smile.

Ned nodded with a smile and a chuckle. "I'm interested in money, lots and lots of money. What do I have to do?" He returned his eyeballs, marking the paper with a red ink pen for more wrong answers. "What makes lots and lots of money for you, Icarius?"

"Come over tonight! We can discuss the details over dinner at six thirty or so." Fabian stood and held his book with a smile and a nod.

"Sure thing," Ned marked the paper with a nod.

"The gall of bitterness strikes." Fabian turned with a smile to the archway.

"I like the term galimatias better. Doesn't it mean nonsense?" Ned shouted without viewing the ass of Fabian.

The door opened.

Fabian stood inside the archway with a smile, facing the wall. "You're very precise, Mr. Ned Nessle."

"You're a strange guy, Fabian." Ned marked the test paper, shaking a skull.

The door closed.

5:58 p.m.

City of Coral Gables (675 miles south of Athens, Georgia)

QUARTET ASSOCIATES headquarters

CFO Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III

33th floor business office suite number three setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The office space looked like a moon crater explosion from a cheap ass science fiction Hollywood movie with sheets of green and white computer printouts scattered over the polished pine wood floor. There were three sets of vertical skyscraper paper stacks, photocopying a set of Roman architectural columns with ankle-high piles of black accounting ledges which was the knee-high white spiral notebooks.

All the paper contained a secret code of Greek hand writing.

Frank humped forward his skull and his shoulders over the keyboard with a spike of curly messy red hair atop the black hardware.

"Frank," Austin entered the office of his permanent business partner, best friend, and life time brother.

"What?" Frank sneered, viewing his computer screen.

"Hey, bro," Stu smiled and carefully stepped over the messy floor, cautiously picking an empty spot with his Italian leather not covered with stacks of work papers, and chuckled. "Ya look like shit, Frank."

"Thanks. I thought I just felt like it." Frank viewed his computer screen.

"Allow me to get you some additional help, Frank, like some of the accountants, programmers, and statisticians from Charity with the hospital figures and numbers." Austin moves to a chair, viewing a very messy floor.

"No, I can handle this. I'm onto a...puzzle." Frank viewed the screen.

"Puzzle!?" Austin viewed Stu.

"Explain!" Stu walked to a chair, wanting to assist with the unknown puzzle.

"I don't want to speculate at this junction. The data is massive." Frank viewed the screen.

"What a fucking mess?" Tom chuckled. "Told ya to pay the damn janitorial bill, Frank." He tripped his leather onto the first column of paper and carefully kicked the shit out of the pile for meanness out of his pathway, reaching the front chair at Frank's desk.

"Stop it, Tom," Stu carefully extracted the neat stack of papers from the chair and gently lays them on the floor, except Tom.

Tom tilted his chosen chair forward as the paper contents nosily fell to the floor with a swish, making him giggle like a girl.

Frank turned with an angry face to Tom. "Careful, asshole, that's hours of work." Then he looked down to his computer screen again.

"Testy and irritability to boot. Did ya drink Stu's green tea by mistake, Frank?" Tom laughed, rudely propping both his leathers on Frank's crowded office desk.

Frank's beverage was tea any color and any flavor but green.

Tom did not drink tea, preferring coffee with tons of sweet milk and pounds of white sugar in the substance. After mixing the liquids together, Tom's coffee appeared like smooth yellow butter with almost the same thick consistence.

Stu was the green tea lover, talking and spouting the benefits of antioxidants, minerals, and enzymes that enhance a biological body's strength and immune system.

Tom greatly desired for Stu to shut the fuck up about the too much, too often, and too healthy overkill of green tea, but Gage was bigger, taller, and heavier than Sawyer and might take great offense at his healthy discovery, so Tom stuffed it.

Austin preferred chocolate or white milk over any type of coffees or teas.

"Frank." Austin stared at messy desk, sitting in the chair.

"What!?" Frank sneered, viewing his computer screen.

"Take a break. We're going to dinner. You're working too hard on this project. Let the Charity people figure out the medical mystery." Austin ordered as boss of the Quartet.

"Can't...maybe...later." Frank leaned into his screen.

Stu stood and circled around Frank's desk.

Frank's preppy blue wool jacket was crumpled on the floor hiding behind the rolling chair.

Gage could not one plank of polished wood on the eight-foot office desk as the entire desk surface was covered with green and white computer printouts, number two pencils, three half-filled drinking cups, two partially opened black bound notebooks, lots of diskettes, many more pencil eraser shavings, three colored highlighters, and six stapled neat piles of used paper containing numbers, figures, and percentages.

"Whose uses diskettes?" Stu chuckled, lifting the antiquated computer media to his face.

"I do." Frank stood and jerked the diskettes. Stu chuckled. Austin grinned. Tom laughed.

The trashcan overflowed with cartons of milk, blue for low fat, red for whole, and brown for vanilla soy milk, and used cans of soda. The floor was littered with numerous empty water bottles, eaten wrappers of peanut butter crackers, four candy bars, three ice cream bars, and two smelly pizza boxes of double cheese and sausage.

"Emptied the refrigerator, huh, Frank?" Tom smirked, scanning the messy desk and the dirty and unclean floor.

"Let us help you, Frank." Austin stared at Frank with concern.

"No." Frank stood, reading the report with intrigue.

"What else are brothers for?" Stu back stepped from the desk, standing beside Tom.

Tom polished the pretend dust off his leather. "Don't wanna fu..." as a sharp slap slammed into Tom's rear skull, before a nasty insult continued out of his foul mouth. Stu chuckled as Tom whined, rubbing down his hair in the rear of his skull. "Ouch, that hurt, Big Man." He turned with a sour frown to see Stu.

"Tom wants to help the mostest." Stu smiled with a nod to Sawyer.

Tom viewed his other leather and polished the pretend dust off. "Don't give a sh..." as another sharp slap slammed the rear skull on Tom, again. Stu chuckled with Austin. Tom shouted, smoothing his hair with both his hands. "Stop it, Stu." He viewed Berrington, "Austin!?"

Stu smiled with a nod to Frank. "Yes, he does very much so want to help ya, Frank," playfully jabbing a finger for his shitty fun at Tom's body parts.

Frank exhaled, ignoring the play fighting of the two pups, exhibiting a very good impression of a homeless man of downtown Miami with a frumpy and a crumpled image. His pink dress skirt was open at the throat collar, missing his colorful wild necktie paired with a set of wrinkled and stained beige pants. Frank smelled as the odor lingered between Austin's nose holes.

Austin left his office yesterday for home, remembering Frank was wearing the exact colored clothes and sitting in the exact position at his desk.

Today, Frank's red hair was tousled and uncombed unlike his normal neat and trimmed immaculate South Florida gentleman style.

"Starting a new fashion trend there, Ferdinand," laughed Tom.

Frank frowned passionately hating when Tom used and abused his Christian middle name, insulting his person and unkempt gentlemanly appearance.

Stu aimed a swinging palm at the rear skull on Tom and misses as Sawyer jerked away.

Tom sniggered, drooling a pink tongue at Gage.

"What are you reading?" Austin ignored the pups.

Frank read the printout. "It's not ready. The data is in raw form. I need more time to reach a final conclusion."

"Data!? What data, specific, Frank?" Stu had tired of playing with silly Tom.

"What have you found, so far, Frank?" Austin viewed Frank.

Frank exhaled, reading the paper. "I've stumbled upon a mystery."

"Mystery?" Stu viewed Austin.

"Clarify?" Austin viewed Frank.

"No." Frank viewed Austin. "Not yet." He looked up to see the wall clock, noting the late time and nodded to Austin. "This evening, I promise to update all of you."

Austin and Stu nodded, respecting Frank's work ethics.

Tom frowned. "Don't really fu..." when Stu slammed both his hands into Tom's arm chair as it and Tom dangerously skidded to the wall, sailing across the floor. Tom stood, swinging to Stu, rotating his two folded fists, saying with a sneer, "Quit hammering me, Gage. I'm building fighting fury. I'm going to beat the shit out of ya." Tom dropped his two fists and side stepped from Gage, moving to a new chair with more of Frank's working papers.

"Stop that, Tom." Austin yelled at Tom and moved to the archway as boss of the Quartet. "We're leaving Frank to his work. Come along, Tom. Before I beat the shit out of you myself."

Stu laughed, following behind Austin.

Frank grinned, sitting and diving down to the computer.

Tom simmered with fury, watching Austin and Stu leave the office and did his cool tomcat strut between the columns of papers, walking last out of the office for home, leaving behind Mangrove for the evening. "Bye, Ferdinand."

6:33 p.m.

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north of Miami)

House of Professor Fabian Icarius living room setting

Partly cloudy and humid temperatures with light rain

The door opened.

Ned entered the room and arrived on time, reluctantly accepting the invitation but was presence to see the happenings with Fabian. The house was filled with young females as he thought the party had started, without him. The dining room table was lined with bottles of colorful alcohol on one side, illegal rows of soft drugs on the other side, and packs of open cigarettes in the middle.

A college female entered into the room behind the ass of Ned, peeling off two shoes, a blouse, a pair of blue jeans, a bra, and a pair of pink panties in front of Ned's eyeballs.

Fabian stood in a green bathrobe and a pair of two naked feet at the bottom of the staircase, motioning to Ned.

Ned turned and moved to the staircase with a smirk.

Fabian turned and padded up the staircase of his private residence which was located on a large estate in country side and outside the city limits of Athens as his dull living room instantly became alive with drinking, smoking, and fucking bodies of girls and boys.

Ned moved up the wide staircase and passed a pretty female as she reached and grabbed one of his hairy balls with a hand, squeezing it through his blue jeans. He inhaled and exhaled with lust, smiling sweetly at the female, following behind the robed ass of Fabian.

Fabian turned and stopped, flinging the closed door with a left hand, since the right hand held a bottle of beer, revealing a very large space which was filled with four king-sized bed mattresses. Each mattress was decorated in a set of clean white bed linens against a wall.

There were no paintings, curtains, or other pieces of lounging furniture.

Ned frowned. "Jeezus, how many people fit into this bedroom?"

"I pack them heavy on the weekend." Fabian lifted and slapped a hand on the collar bone of Ned with a smile and a nod. "But tonight, this big room is yours. Take as many girls as ya want. They love to eat, lick, and suck dicks. Don't ya, dearie?" He reached and tickled her naked tit with a chuckle as the naked college female sounded with a cute purr like an animal deep down inside her throat. Then the girl touched and lifted his hand, licking it like a cat with her pink warm smoothing tongue.

The dick inside his blue jeans lengthened and enlarged in lusty pains from the visually stimulated sex and sin as the college girl turned from Fabian and pulled Ned through the archway.

She led him beside an empty mattress and slowly undressed his body as she sounded with a series of purrs, groans, and moans like an animal from her throat.

He reached down and massaged her slim legs at the hips with both his palms, leaning over and kissing her open mouth of peppermint candy taste with his lips.

Ned manly groaned as she lovely moaned.

The girl dropped his blue jeans down to his ankles as he stepped out of them and his briefs.

They roughly kissed with a series of groans and moans.

She moved and slid her soft hands down to his dick, thumbing, pulling, stretching it out and up with an angel's touch.

"Gawd," Ned manly moaned. "Keep going." She giggled with his order.

He back stepped her into one of the empty beds, resting his body spread eagle over the linens, letting the girl perform her sexy duty. He smirked as her legs straddled over his naked body, outstretching in a comfortable pose. She leaned down and caressed his weak dick with one hand as the other hand pumped a hairy ball while kissing and licking his face, his lips, and his right cheekbone with a sweet peppermint flavored tongue.

She scooted backward on the bed and flipped onto her back spine, extending a pair of suntanned legs out and up for Ned to penetrate into her wet pussy with his inflated dick. She was ready and he was ready.

Ned manly moaned and she lovely groaned with their pleasurable sex lust.

He twisted and sat up on top of his kneecaps, jerking a wet dick into a wet vagina.

Ned manly moaned and she lovely groaned.

He pushed with a hardy shove, allowing her swelling vagina to grow and expand over his penis, since he wasn't a wimp at one or more sex acts. His inflating dick could grow more if properly stimulated.

She whispered. "Good."

He moaned with a push inward into her pussy as her slick thick juices coated his penis. His nostrils inflamed with the smell of sex for an easy penetration. He was inside and halted, panting from excitement as she lovely groaned.

He leaned down and kissed her open mouth as she massaged his tits and his chest hair with her two girly hands. "Go, big boy."

He rushed and attacked with his tongue tip, pulling back with a smile, "Ready, little girl?"

"Uh huh."

He pulled out and shoved his dick inside the vagina as she screamed with pleasure and pain. Ned yanked in and out over and over again, pounding his heart valve into a heart attack and his legs for the touchdown point. His penis was hard like a night stick as it might explode into tiny bits of flesh, driving in and out of her sweet opening. Swelling, more swelling and then he quickly popped as his manly sperm beautifully exploded into her sweet vagina, "Gawd." Ned yelled with a smile and a face of sweat.

She giggled with a whisper. "God is great." She exhaled as he shook.

His dick quickly deflated from the excitement, the thrill, and the love lust, sitting back on his kneecaps. He shivered and tensed, relaxing with blindness and lack of hearing in his left eardrum, only temporarily form the sex act.

She jerked out from underneath him, curling her body sideways over the bed, still panting too.

"Great fuck." Ned whispered with pleasure.

He would occasionally fuck a female but not someone so young, since Ned fucked some of the older female around the city of Athens but never the mature females at the bank.

The female flipped forward, sucking on his shrinking penis, licking his discharge with a long pink tongue.

"Good." Ned manly moaned.

"Gets better..." She pulled back with a smile, leaning down and licked, sucking his dick until he was cleaned like a newborn baby. She moved her mouth licking and sucking to each hairy ball and up to the abdomen, the chest, the neck, the right earlobe, the left earlobe, and finally his open lips. She shoved a dirty little tongue with his sperm in and out of his mouth as he tasted both her and him. She shifted her palms over his chest, caressing his tense muscles. "Flip over." She pulled back with a smile.

He flipped and turned over on his stomach.

She massaged his neck down to his ass with her strong soft finger pads as he felt good relaxing and enjoying her touch. She used her nails to tingle, tinkle, and taunt his nakedness.

His body liked this while his dick slowly expanded for second round of sex.

He never fucked a girl twice in one night. By the time Ned got the girl through a paid dinner, out of a paid movie show and into a paid car and finally inside his paid house. He sat on the paid sofa with a nightcap, chatting about light shit then he was too tired.

And the girl was too tired from the work day also.

So they quickly fucked and fell asleep over his paid bed.

Therefore, the formal mating ritual ended without fanfare as he got sex and the girl got sex.

And then they awoke with a yawn of sour breath the next morning.

The best of a Friday night, he slept inside his bed until ten o'clock on Saturday morning of his short paradise work week.

His mind was ready for another fucking with the young female, who barely looked like the age of eighteen years old, since college girls were eighteen years and older.

No minor girls or boys were present here at the sex party, so no chance of arrest or jail time either.

The other advantage, the college females were not inside one of his teaching academic classes at Athens University, since he taught a master's degree level course, consisting of older men and women as he couldn't bring himself to ask any of the older females out for a dinner date.

The academic university did not care about a secret or a public teacher and student relationship, since the teaching institution was having major financial money troubles.

Ned was a part time instructor at night and didn't collect the sexy young twenty-four years old female at the master's degree level either.

Instead, Ned got all the ugly and overweight forty-two-year-old women, who worked and pursed a degree or was retired from the US military with nothing better to do with a single sorry life.

Therefore, these young college females did not know him from 'Joe Blow.'

She smiled with a whisper. "Turn over."

Ned flipped over onto his back spine as his dick slowly rose and recovered from the first fuck act.

She spread his legs into a wide stance, sitting her folded body in front of his dick for a blow job, gently caressing both his hairy balls with her soft girly hands and a giggle of lust. She placed her thumb pad and an index finger at the bottom of his penis, slowly leaning a face down to his legs as Ned smirked and watched her eyes. She smiled at him, licking the top of his moist tip.

His dick shivered in pleasure too.

"Good." Ned moaned with pleasure as he watched her lick and tickle the tip of his penis. She stretched her lips over the entire tip of his penis. He sounded with a hiss of pleasure. "Good." She sucked on his dick with her soft lips and a strong tongue. "Suck me dry, little girl." Ned leaned into the wall with a grin as she playfully bit the tip with her front teeth. He sounded with a hiss again as she swirled a tongue around his tip and then moved a tongue up and down along his vertical shaft.

He sounded with a moan as she eased down a tongue and two cheek muscles, pumping his shaft with her fingers, so soft and gently.

He closed his eyelids from the sexy erotic sensation, tucking a chin down into his chest from the sexy pleasure. His body shivered and jerked in sync rhyme with her fingers and her tongue.

She ate half his dick with an open mouth as the tight pressure of an imminent sperm explosion started to rise inside his penis. She licked faster up and down with a tongue and then alternated the sucking action up and down with her lips.

His dick swelled and hardened.

She pumped her fingers up and down plus her lips up and down with swift speed.

He sounded with a moan as his dick fully elongated. Hot fluid rose up to the top of his tip, since Ned was going to blow the horn for another touchdown.

She ate the rest of his dick into her mouth.

And then he blew high and wide and long and hard. His hot sperm invaded her closed mouth.

She sucked it down and ate all his sweet juice of life.

He shivered and tensed, relaxing with blindness and lack of hearing in his left eardrum, only temporarily form the sex act again.

She continued to pump her hand for the last little morsels of hot fresh sperm into her mouth.

"Gawd!" Ned manly moaned, tossing his chin side to side, enjoying the sexy pleasure.

She sucked and cleaned his dick, both his hairy balls up to his hip bone and back down to his inner thighs, licking, sucking, panting, and moaning to a soft song.

"Gawd!" Ned manly moaned. The girl was a professional sex whore. Fabian had mentioned he loved his girls and his sex too.

She finished the blow job, shifting up his body while kissing, licking, and sucking with a tongue, her lips, and her soft girly hands.

"Gawd!" Ned softly moaned, feeling tired and sleepy.

She stroked her soft hands up, down, backward and forward all over his hips, legs, chest, and face.

Ned felt weak, good, and satisfied as the night ended happily.

The door opened.

A second naked girl stood in the archway with a giggle and a wink to Ned. "My turn. He wants you."

"All right!" The first naked college female removed her soft hands from his dick and leaned down, passionately kissing his lips, hard and rough. Then she jerked back from his pouted lips with a giggle and a wink. "Back later, big boy."

"O...kay..." Ned croaked with a tight throat from his sexy excitement and the constant fucking action as a second girl moved and climbed her nakedness onto his bed.

The second girl was rough and raw with her hands, her mouth, and her breasts, attacking his weaken body while massaging, caressing, licking, sucking, and fucking him over and over again for the rest of the evening.

Ned yelled then screamed, then hissed, then moaned, and finally groaned. His cock was going to be sore and tender tomorrow with the swelling and inflation of the penis tissues and muscles. He didn't remember the last fucking sex act with the rough girl as he fell asleep like a newborn babe with a soft snore of delight.

10:52 p.m.

City of Kendall (680 miles south of Athens, Georgia)

Charity Kendall Hospital

Business office of super president Jefferson

Last quarter moon with clear skies and warm temperatures

"What a pile of shit?" Jefferson Brandt, a former plastic surgeon and the current super president of Charity Healthcare System, said with a sour frown, tapping on the paper report. Charity Healthcare System owned and operated twenty-seven medical centers from north Miami Beach down to the southern tip of Key West. He tossed the stapled papers to Frank as the papers landed back in Frank's lap. Jefferson said with a puzzled frown to Frank. "You have found 7,452 mysterious cases reported and documented but not unexplained at my medical centers, all of the Charity facilities in South Florida?"

"Yes." Frank said with a nod, staring at Jefferson.

Jefferson exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "Every single individual Charity Hospital had been examined? Are you certain that you did not leave any hospital out of the entire medical review? Are you positive that you did not inform anyone about this also? I want all the original files, notes, reports, diskettes, jump drives, CDs, DVDs, all of everything, Franklin." He jabbed a finger at Mangrove.

"Certainly," Frank said with a nod, staring at Jefferson.

Jefferson narrowed his eyelids, saying with a growl to Berrington. "This is your doing, Austin. If you weren't so damn curious all the time?"

"Why do you say that, Jefferson?" Austin said with a stern face.

"Do you recall the ancient proverb that damn curiosity killed the damn cat, Austin?" Jefferson said with a sour frown and a sneer.

Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance, turning to see Frank.
Saturday June 5th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waning crescent moon, warm temperatures with clear night

"Ah!" He screamed, thrashing side to side inside the bed.

"Most annoying in the morn," she drooled over her pillow without any body movement to comfort Austin.

"Sorry." He sat up, turning to see Liz on the other side of the bed, wiping the sweat from his face, settling a face back on the pillow, and closed his eyelids. He tried to delete the frightening vision, hundreds of black body bags of the dead.

8:08 a.m.

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north of Miami)

Home of Professor Fabian Icarius kitchen setting

Warm temperatures with light fog

Ned slowly blinked open his eyelids, seeing darkness.

Inside the private bedroom and on top of a single bed mattress, the naked girl lightly snored beside his right hand as Ned awoke to a quiet room and bent up at his waist, moving and climbing over her body and stood in his fine nakedness. He reached and grabbed the green soft bathrobe, dressing and turned to the door.

The door opened.

He moved quietly down the staircase into the living room.

The living room contained an assortment of sleeping naked girls and boys, holding each other on top of colorful blankets over the floor and furniture pieces. The bottles of booze were gone along with lines of drugs.

Ned usually didn't engage in drugs or alcohol on a formal mating date, but he noted that all items were used by the many attendees of fun college party last night. He slowly entered into the kitchen on his naked feet, smelling a new pot of fresh coffee with a smile and a nod, stopping next to Fabian. "Shit dog."

Fabian wore a brown silk robe with a smile, pouring orange juice into a pitcher. "Enjoy your evening, Ned."

Ned smiled with a nod of excitement, "Shit. I experienced pure ecstasy last night."

"Wait until today, the ultimate ecstasy," Fabian poured more orange juice into a second pitcher.

"Tonight, more girls?" Ned snorted with more excitement, watching Fabian work around the breakfast table.

Fabian smiled with a nod, "More girls. More guys. More drugs. More booze. More to love over and over again."

"How long does your parties last?" Ned smiled.

Fabian smiled. "I bedded this morning at four with the last girl. Some of the younger ones can go another hour, but the house is quiet by five."

"Shit. Do you do this type of activity, every weekend?" Ned smirked.

"Like clockwork, starting at five in the evening on Fridays and ends at six in the evening on Sunday. The kids do need to do their homework." Fabian chuckled.

Ned chuckled. "Shit. You receive more entertainment on Saturday than Friday."

"More bodies to fuck?"

"How many do you fuck during the night?" Ned nodded.

"Max?"

"Yeah, max."

Fabian smiled, "Twenty girls and ten guys."

"Fag, you're gay?" Ned frowned with the stunned news.

He slipped a cup of black coffee into the right hand of Ned. "Not really, gay as much as raw sex with females and males, I can go either way or both ways. After ten girls, I get bored. After five boys, I got horny. After three orgies, I got tired."

"Groups?" Ned sipped on the coffee.

"You can have your first group tonight. I suggest starting with two girls and add two more after about three hours. Be warned! You're still a newbie." Fabian laughed.

Ned grinned with a nod. "I felt like a virgin. Do the girls fuck together?"

"Of course, in my groups, girls on girls, guys on guys. Good hint, once you're tired and think you can't perform one more fuck, get two guys doing it. Your dick inflates so fast your fucking head spins, counter clock wise." Fabian laughed.

Ned chuckled, "Really?"

"Really, man, just do it for fun today. See if your empirical results come to the same outcome, an enlarged engorged sperm filled popping penis ready for prime pumping."

"I'll try it. I popped four times last night. Shit. I wanted more. The mind wanted more. But the body couldn't delivery." Ned exhaled.

Fabian smiled with a nod. "Practice, practice, and more practice. The more you fuck, the harder you get and longer you can endure the sex act. Your dick gets used to the long sessions and doesn't want to give up but when the seed explodes you experience ultimate ecstasy."

Ned smiled with a nod. "I'm ready. I want to start now. All this talk is getting me hornier."

"I'm the only one up." Fabian sipped the coffee.

"I don't mean you." Ned frowned.

"Well don't toss that mental thought out of your head. I got experience, lots of experience." He winked to Ned. "We might connect one day."

"Doubt it." Ned shook his skull with a sour frown and sipped on the coffee, scanning the kitchen archway. "When do the whores wake up?"

"Around ten or so, but I have to feed them. All the booze and drugs make them hungry like bear cubs. Once feed, they're ready to troll and roll."

Ned smiled. "So sex's around ten."

"Around eleven, I'm expecting more people. Some go home and some stay. Some enjoy taking showers together too. Some enjoy lying naked bodies in the sun out back on the patio."

"Fucking outside?" Ned turned and smiled at the closed patio door.

He sipped the coffee and said with a smile. "Like I said it is sex for three days unadulterated and unlimited, anytime and anymore with anyone in eye sight. My place's very private and very isolated. They can shout and yell with no one to hear."

Ned turned and smiled to Fabian "Do you record?"

He grinned. "I wanted to, but that would create suspicion even though it was be fun to relive the orgy times over and over again."

"Sex high," Ned chuckled with excitement.

"I bring girls home each night and get my kicks but live for the weekends."

"How long have you been doing this party thing?" Ned sipped the coffee.

"I started three years ago. The rumors spread. Got popular. Got girls. Got guys. Got drugs. Got it all."

"No one talks." Ned sipped the coffee.

"Campus is small. Tattle tales are taken care of by the kids themselves. Damn. This is a small town with nothing to do but fuck your daddy or your mother before bedtime. I offer a fun alternative." Fabian cut up the fruit for the breakfast meal with a grin.

"I guess it doesn't hurt that the school's hurting for money and instructors." Ned sipped on the coffee.

He smiled as the knife chopped the fruit. "That too helps my cause and my pocketbook."

"Ya pay for everything?" Ned sipped the coffee.

"I have some good resources and sources in Miami that get me goodies for a discounted price, since I am a very, very goody-good customer." Fabian chopped the more fruit for breakfast.

"Ship it all here too?" Ned sipped the coffee.

"By plane, it arrives at the foot of my college desk."

"Damn." Ned chuckled.

"Special inexpensive services from our university benefits package," He laughed and chopped more fruit.

"Has any of your...uh...special packages ever get lost?" Ned sipped the coffee.

"Only one. I didn't find the person but some of my good nice big strong boys did. That was last time that I got bank robbed."

"A following?" Ned smiled.

"A true following."

"I always liked to follow the leader." Ned chuckled.

Fabian turned and winked at Ned. "Nessle, I have a good feeling about you."

"Thanks for taking a chance and inviting me. I really appreciate it. Can I help with your supply or something?" Ned sipped the coffee.

"Not my supply, I got it covered. We need to make a couple of piles of sandwiches for the kids to re-energize them for the next fucking round."

"No problem. I'll get the bread." Ned scanned the room and moved to the loafs of fresh bread.

9:18 a.m.

City of Coral Beach (675 miles south of Athens)

Home of Austin Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The Quartet had gathered at Austin's house to discuss the funeral arrangements of Cliffy while awaiting the arrival of their dear friends Cliffy and Marge.

Both front entrance doors slammed opened and shut closed as Liz pointed down to the tile, saying with a lady sneer to Joe. "Bags, here and be careful. They're imported from France."

Joe lowered her luggage to the floor and left the room, awaiting orders from his boss Austin.

"Didn't you tell her, Austin?" Stu sat on the sofa, typing on his laptop.

"Let me guess here. Ya forget, Old Man." Tom sat on the same sofa, shifting a plate of food around his office paperwork.

"We all forget, Law Man." Stu typed.

"Frank?" Austin viewed Liz, not needing to visually or verbally issue the order to Frank.

Frank stood, pulling out his mobile telephone and left the room as he arranged to cancel the jet, the limousines, and the reservations for a scheduled and planned trip to the Bahamas today.

"I'm afraid a rather important problem has arisen that needs our immediate attention, Liz. We won't be going to the Bahamas today." Austin viewed her.

Tom looked up with a smile to see Liz, chewing and spitting food particles over his plate and the coffee table. "Packed for nothing, Lizard. Go home. Goodbye." He flung his fork of food which landed on the floor for the dismissal of Liz, laughing and chewing his food like a bad kid.

Liz caressed the neck muscles of Austin with her soft finger pads, whispering to his ear. "Not going!? I don't understand, sweetie. I have a new bikini from Italy. You'll love it on me."

Austin closed his eyelids, enjoying the neck massage and blinked his eyelids open, jerking her hands from his neck, moving and twisting away from her arm span. "I'm sorry, Liz. None of us are going to the islands, this week. We have vital work, here."

Liz batted her eyelashes with a sad pout, "Work, what kind of work? You promised me a vacation, sweetie. I can't get any more time off at the real estate office," pouting her lips.

Tom smiled and sniggered, cutting up his food. "I find the words, work and vacation, are equally interchangeable nouns for you, Lizard." He ate the food with his mouth opened, chewing and looking to her back spine.

"Shut up, Tom." Liz snapped, turning to see the three stooges, who were sitting together on the same sofa.

"I agree with Tom." Stu smiled and stared at Liz.

"Shut up, Stu." Liz flipped her hand, yelling with a sour frown to Stu.

"I also find..." Frank smirked and stared at Liz.

"Shut up, Frank." Liz looked with a sour frown to Frank and swung around with a sweet smile to Austin.

Stu hand slapped to Frank. Frank fist-bumped with Tom as the three boys chuckled and stole silly glances at each other.

The brothers greatly disliked Liz from the first day of pre-kindergarten at the age of four years old on the date of August nineteenth at Coral Gables Academy Prep in Miami, Florida. That was the day that Liz intruded, intertwined, and invaded the Band of Brothers during playtime at the swing set. Then Liz leeched her claws on Austin from their first introduction and slowly sucked out his energy like a vampirette, who needed a fresh supply to maintain her cold nasty Earth bound godless soul.

At the age of thirty years old, Liz ruthlessly teased and taunted Berrington's mind, heart, and soul. And his brothers passionately hated Lizard for her lust of his money, her glamour, and their brother Austin.

"The funeral is on Monday. We can't leave, Liz." Austin stared at Liz's icy reaction to Cliffy's tragic death.

Liz intersected her sexy body in front of Austin, whispering into his face. "We jet to Freeport and fly back on Sunday at dusk, the two of us. You need my tender loving care and personal attention, sweetie." She touched his face again with her soft hands.

"Clifford's your friend also, Liz. We can't leave him during this sad and depressing moment. I'm his godfather." Austin removed her hands from his neck for a second time, staring into her cold hard eyes.

Liz stepped back from Austin, jabbing a manicured fingernail in his chest with a sigh. "You were his godfather, yesterday. Cliffy has gone to heaven now. You haven't been close to that kid since the birth. And I know you, Austin, very well. You sent the biggest gigantic expensive present for each birthday and on Christmas day. Big deal!" She flung her arms into the air and parked two fists on her tiny waist. "I could've done that also."

The words pained Austin's ears as Cliffy currently laid in a refrigerator freezer at the Turkey Point Nuclear Power Plant ready to be burned.

His biological body was unfit to plant down in the earth dirt due to a mysterious yellow crystallized liver. It was determined by numerous State of Florida environmental agencies that the leakage of the liver poison could contaminate the delicate ecological roots of the young and developing Florida native trees, bushes, and grasslets.

Austin had read the written declaration from the State of Florida governor's office eighteen times, stating that the body of the child will be quickly incinerated due to the city of Miami public health concerns and safety.

"Lizard, the answer is no." Tom finished his third cup of coffee. Austin was not in the proper state of mind to defend his person. Tom was the company's and the family's lawyer, doing his sworn job, defending his brother from the viper fangs of evil which was named Liz.

Liz viewed Tom saying with a sour frown. "Tom, I have repeatedly asked you not to call me that nasty and unforgiving name. How many times do I have to remind you?"

"That depends," Tom giggled, staring at her.

"Depends on what?" Liz frowned at Tom.

"How many times I have called you, lizard, Lizard?" Tom grinned, giggling.

"I don't know. But you just added another count to the total." Liz scowled.

Tom elbowed Mangrove, smiling at Liz. "She's right, Frank. What's the total count, so far?"

The newspaper covered Frank's face and as, he said with a stern face. "142,351."

"Where the hell did you get that fat number?" Liz frowned to the newspaper in front of Frank's face.

Frank lowered the newspaper, viewing an angry distorted ugly face on Liz, saying with a stern face. "Let me see or count, in this case. Tom assigned your wonderful nickname of Lizard based on your hard cold reptile personality on August nineteenth as we all entered pre-kindergarten together at the age of four. If you add all the number of days since that time date and then multiple it by the number of times, my favorite school mate Thomas..."

"Thanks, Franklin." Tom chuckled.

"...has called you, Lizard which averaged fifteen times per day, then you get 142,351." Frank smiled, dropping his face back to the current news of the day.

Tom and Stu laughed and clapped with joy.

Frank retained his calm and his cool demeanor, as usual, reading the newspaper.

Austin stared with his worry and concern at the hair roots on Liz.

"You, people are insufferable." Liz frowned at the three stooges.

"Make that 142,353. Since I forgot to add the two nicknames that I just mentioned," Frank flipped the next page.

Tom and Stu stood and butt bumped their asses across Frank's newspaper and giggled like girls.

Austin smirked at his silly brothers.

Liz turned with a sour frown and a lady sneer to see Austin. "I plan to leave and never to return to this mad house, Austin, if you don't ask these uncivilized crude barbarians to let me be." She folded her arms over her big breasts.

"Let me be! Who talks like that, Stuart?" Frank turned and frowned at Stu.

Stu turned and raised one eyebrow at Frank. "I don't know, Franklin. Maybe, monks?"

"Monks, who are possibly located in China, I presume." Frank nodded to Stu. Then Stu laughed and Austin grinned.

Tom jumped up with a grin and a giggle from the same sofa. "Will you swear to that statement on The Holy Bible, Lizard?" He jogged towards the book shelf and stopped, pulling out the actual The Holy Bible manual from the book stack with a smile, spinning around and wiggled it towards Liz with a nod.

"142,354." Frank said. Then, Tom and Stu laughed.

Liz spun around and moved ahead towards the closed door, reaching out, tossing the door handle against the yellow tinted side wall, perching inside the archway. Austin turned to follow her pathway with a stern face. She nodded with a sour frown to Austin. "Fare thee well, Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth!" Liz turned and left Austin, the brothers, the room, and the house.

Stu resumed typing on the laptop. Liz would enter into the awaiting transport that had been called by him. He had texted his personal driver and his personal limo for a finale feat of finally getting rid of bitching Liz out of Austin's personal life foreverly.

"Drama fucking queen," Tom moved ahead and yelled out loud with a grin and a laugh.

"Boom!" Stu tossed one arm into the air while typing with the other hand with a grin and a chuckle.

"Let's dance! Dance! Dance to my new made up rock and roll song." Tom danced around in a completed circle while shuffling both his leathers back and forth, twisting the narrow hips side to side with a giggle and a grin and slowly moved back to the assigned seat on top of the sofa.

"She'll be back." Frank continued to read the newspaper with a stern face.

"Change the locks today, Stu." Austin nodded at the open archway.

"Done!" Stu reached over and pulled out the mobile phone from the breast pocket of his jacket, punching the telephone directory for the new telephone number.

"Who's next?" Tom danced and twirled in a completed circle, stopping with both arms in the air with a giggle. The landline telephone on top of the tiny table in the foyer sounded with a soft ding.

Austin spun around with a laugh and moved ahead towards the foyer table, stopping and lifted up the dinging receiver to the lips with a smile, "Berrington," he gasped with worry. "Damn it to hell!" He dropped down the telephone receiver on top of the table with a loud thump and spun around, racing out the open archway, running towards his personal silver tinted limousine with Tom, Stu, and Frank standing and trailing behind his ass. "Burtons, now!" Austin ordered to his driver and scooted into the open door sliding down into the rear bench seat with Tom, Stu, and Frank also.

He stood beside the open driver's door with a nod. "Yes sir!" Joe slid down into the driver's seat, cranking the cold engine, speeding directly towards the Burton's home with a worried brow also.

9:48 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (three miles northwest from Coral Beach)

Home of Mr. & Mrs. Clifford Milton Burton, III

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

Inside the rear cabin, on the last bench seat, Austin sat still but could not talk or mumble or breathe after hearing the terrible news over the telephone landline while seeing the visual destruction inside the parking limousine too. A silhouette of 6,400 square feet of furniture, wood, and tiles was roasting in numerous colorful high skyline plumes of red and yellow flames, gray ashes, and black soot.

Joe had parked the limousine far away from the Burton driveway as the entire city street, the driveways of the neighbor driveways, and the manicured grass mediums near the road surface were all covered with numerous fire trucks, roaming emergency personnel, parked police vehicles, parked medical ambulances, and a group of brave firefighters.

Austin reached out and pressed single button. His side of the automatic door on the limousine opened to the side in silence. He leaped out from the bench seat with a worried brow and jogged towards the nearest firefighter, who stood and stared at the flames holding a radio to the lips.

He reached over and pressed the other button. His side of the automatic door on the same limousine opened to the side in silence. "Jeezus Holy Christ," Tom scooted out and stood upright on top of the city street, kicking the limousine door with a leather, slamming the door shut while seeing a burning mansion without a pair of sunglasses.

All the fire trucks, the fire hoses, and the fire crews were battling a one hundred twenty feet inferno of fire and ashes as the captain firefighter spun around and approached the Quartet with a stern face while handing a single small metal box in one hand, stopping and stood in front of Austin, extending the hand with the metal box in silence.

Austin stared with a worried brow at the captain firefighter. "What about the family named the Burtons?"

The captain shook a helmet and wiggled the arm with the metal box with a stern face. "The fate of the Burton Family is unknown, at this time. We found this metal item on top of the street sidewalk about twenty feet from their front door. It has your name on top of the box, Dr. Berrington." Austin stared with a sad frown down at the small metal box which usually was used to hold valuables, in case of fire.

"Shit fire." Frank dashed ahead and pulled up with a worried brow beside Austin, studying the fire with a worried brow.

"What is the cause of the deadly fire, captain?" Stu dashed ahead and pulled up, standing between the captain and Austin, studying the fire too.

The captain shook a helmet with a frown and thumbed back over a collar bone at the burning mansion. "We have to wait on preliminary report, Stu. I have to guess a gasoline fire. Do you see all the extremely high flames?" The fire sounded with a set of crack, a boom, and a bang. "Do you hear all the explosions? Those are full gasoline tanks. The house seemed to have been doused with flammable gasoline. And I mean, the gasoline tanks are located everywhere. We wait for the official forensics report, Stu." Stu nodded with a stern face to the captain while continuing to study the burning mansion with Tom and Frank.

"I understand." Austin stared with a stern face at the massive house fire, remembering his early morning dream. His dream had reflected a burning mansion with extremely high flames of colored plummets of yellow and red as the fire danced in the air like this current deadly event.

Clifford, the father of dead Cliffy had been very depressed with the upcoming funeral of his son which was going to be held Monday morning at the Turkey Point Nuclear Plant, where the contaminated dead body of his son would be burned into a pile of gray ashes. Then, the pile of gray ashes and the funeral procession would drive out to the family cemetery on the outer skirts of the city of Doral.

Austin accepted the small metal box, feeling the light weight like it only contained a single letter from his childhood friend Clifford.

Stu reached out and gently tapped Austin on the collar bone with a stern face and a whisper. "We're in the way, bro. Let's go back home!"

Austin nodded with a stern face down to the metal box. "Correct, Stu."

The Quartet spun around from the fire and slowly moved back towards the limousine. Joe continued to sit inside the driver's seat for the next instruction from Austin.

Austin stopped and slid down into the rear bench seat of the limousine, sitting next to Frank, placing the metal box in the lap. Stu and Tom shuffled and sat down on the opposite bench seat inside the rear cabin. Austin said with a sad frown through the open panel to Joe, "Home." He reached over and slapped the electronic hand control on his side panel on the arm rest, closing and slamming both of the heavy limousine doors.

Joe did not bother to open and close each limousine door for the brothers and was not a trained monkey for Austin's pleasure either. He was the driver and the mechanic for the car and a friend to Austin. He was a former inmate of the Miami-Dade County jail system where he robbed a house, while the owner was sleeping in the bedroom. At that time, Joe was a young stupid kid, who had been caught and jailed at the age of nineteen years old, serving nine months in jail and then getting off for good behavior while pondering a life without a job, without any form of education, without any money, and with a criminal stamp on his ass, until the day he was died and then buried six feet under.

The day before Joe was released from the prison house, he received a visit from Austin. Austin offered Joe a chauffeur position, driving his personal limousine. Joe nodded with a smile and accepted immediately.

Austin had generously provided free of charge a house, a food allowance, a yearly salary with benefits of health insurance and additional training and education for Joe to acquire a chauffeur license while encouraging Joe to go college, as well.

Joe studied hard and passed his chauffeur's test with a perfect score. On his own free time, Joe attended a mechanic school, graduating with a certificate to service any type of vehicle, in case he wanted to leave Austin's employment. However, Joe would never do that.

He had also graduated from the top American Executive Driving Academy which was located in Birmingham, Alabama, becoming a trained bodyguard driver for any and all extreme emergencies that might been encountered by the Quartet.

Currently, the Quartet continued to train, guide, and encourage Joe to succeed as he felt overwhelmed with his college books, lessons, and work. Joe heard all the time the nasty rumors plus the viciously marked and remarked nickname 'Quartet Assholes' that had been dubbed in place of Quartet Associates. However, the Quartet Asshole was a lovingly honored title which was awarded by the media television reporters, nasty politicians, and uneducated jerks.

The Quartet was a group of nice men with a set of nice wives, who did nice things for everyday people, the average working Joe's and Joan's, the little people living in Miami, in Florida, the USA, and the world.

Quartet Associates was an international company which was known for protecting and guarding very important pocketbooks, such as, heads of state, prime ministers, billionaires, millionaires, kings, queens, princesses, princes, countesses, and wealthy persons and their families.

Joe did not travel with Austin as he only drove the limousine around the city limits of Miami, carrying Austin, his brothers, his friends, his family members, his associates, his girls, and his other choice of people. There were four limos for each Quartet member. Normally, the brothers drove their personal vehicles, unless they attended a business meeting and the Quartet used Joe, because Austin was the boss of the Quartet. During a private social function, Joe operated the limousine for Austin and his lovely lady. Austin enjoyed women, his only hobby to entertain a new one every day of the week for the newest gala in Miami. Joe dressed in a black jacket with the white collar that was paired with a set of matching pencil pants and a big traditional cap, looking sharp and impressive to Austin's date. Austin chuckled with amusement every time that Joe opened the door and called him, sir.

Present day and place

10:01 a.m.

Limousine ride of the Quartet west on Sunset Drive

Austin quietly sat beside Frank, holding the box inside his lap.

Tom stared with a smile at the box. "Open it!" Austin exhaled with huff and reached down, touching all the fingers along the edge of the smooth mineral in silence. Tom frowned, "Gimme." He reached out with a spidery pale hand of wiggling fingers for the box.

Stu reached out with a sour frown and slapped down back the hand on Tom towards the bench with a growl. "Manners, asshole! That box ain't your property."

"Open the damn box! Let's see what's inside." Tom bit a bottom lip while pondering the interior contents of the tiny box that had been left at the site of a burning mansion in morning time for a stealing.

"I believe that we know the contents of the box without prying open the lid." Frank stared with a sad face down at both manicured hands with a deep sigh.

"Yadda! Yadda! It contains the will. I go it on my desk too." Tom stared with a smile at the box. "He left everything to Austin, in case something happened to..." Stu reached over and hit the exposed stomach on Tom with a low growl. "Fuck." Tom grunted and grabbed the arching stomach with both hands coming from the collision with the folded fist of Stu.

"Thomas!" Stu frowned in fury.

"Shit, man!" Tom huffed in pain.

Stu reached over and wrapped both arms around the flat chest on Tom while acting like a human seat belt with a loud grunt into the eardrum on Tom. Sawyer wiggled helplessly inside the two strong biceps of Stu. Gage grunted into the eardrum on Tom again. "Respect, Tom! Show some fucking respect here," he continued to stare with a sad frown down at the hair roots on Austin. Austin continued to look down with a sad face and caress the edge of box.

"There's more inside that damn box. Clifford wouldn't leave a stupid box in the open for anyone to pick up and carry off." Tom struggled side to side inside the two strong biceps of Stu as Gage squeezed both arms tighter around Sawyer without letting go of the ill-mannered son of bitch.

Austin exhaled with a huff and continued to stare down with a sad face at the top of the box. "Tom's correct. The box contains a message."

"Damn right! Open it! And get the fuck off me, asshole!" Tom tried to break free as Stu grunted into the eardrum on Tom one more time and then released the tight grip on Sawyer. Tom slid away from Stu and reached down, neatly straightening up the messy clothes, giving Gage the evil eye.

Austin reached down and slowly pried open the lip of the metal, seeing a creased beige letter which was displayed with an embossed letter B that had been stamped for the name Burton on the fold. Like in the medieval times, when a royal king sent an important document which was carried by a horse messenger to another loyal person within his kingdom with top secret information, the stamped letter was only opened by the trusted friend. So, the letter from Clifford rested on top of a medium sized sealed brown envelope with an embossed letter of B for the name of Berrington. Austin reached inside and grabbed, slowly pulled out the letter, handing the box to Frank.

Frank quickly jerked out the envelope, opening it, and lifted it near the eyeballs while pinging the paper with a fingernail. "This is the Last Will..."

"Let me verify it!" Tom leaned down and reached out, yanking the sealed vanilla colored envelope from the hand of Frank, ripping open the seal in one fluid motion. "It's our seal." He jerked the flap up, dragging the elegant half-folded stapled papers from the inner pouch, opening and reading the first page of the document, "It's ours. This is legit. It is the Last Will and Testimony of Clifford."

Austin stared with a sad face down at the sealed letter hoping that the Burtons had escaped with their lives from a foiled burglary which had accidentally caused a fire of the mansion and the material possessions.

"Austin?" Frank leaned over and whispered with a stern face in the eardrum on Berrington.

Austin slowly awoke from the daydream and broke open the embossed seal with a thumb as the hard blue glue dropped down in his lap, exhaling with a huff.

The edge of letter magically unfolded revealing a logo of Burton Industries in the middle of the business stationary. The small art work displayed the "new" logo of a dog, not the "old" logo of a plane.

Clifford had researched his family ancestral name and discovered the term "Gone for a Burton" had originated among the flying pilots in World War Two. The ancient phrase suggested that an airman had gone for a pint of Burton ale and then disappeared under a set of sinister circumstances. Therefore, the term meant: whoever had gone, did not return. Thus, Clifford did not care for the literal meaning of the motto: "Gone for a Burton."

And Tom did not help by ridiculing Clifford as Stu had figured out or rather Grandfather Gage had told Stu the true World War II military meaning.

So, Clifford created a "new" business logo with the help of his small son and the family's new puppy. The new logo showed a big yellow dog, standing on four paws, sticking out its long pink tongue which reflected the happiness of his life and his family.

Clifford was friends with the Quartet during their shared elementary school days. Tom was the astronaut. Clifford was the clown. Stu was the warrior of war and battles. Frank was the scholar of classical books, music, art, and poems. Austin was the lover of women in any shape, any form, any type, and anytime, since Austin didn't read books or listen to music or watch media programs, instead he entertained girls.

Austin gently shook open the rest of folded paper seeing the first line of handwritten words: My Brother, Austin. He swallowed the thick mouth spit of emotional tears at the bay of his lips, not being able to read letter.

Great Grandfather Berrington grew up in the year 1838 in the Florida wilderness near the current capital city of Tallahassee as an only child for economics, not greed. The young territory of Florida was composed of a few wild, free, and savage small farm communities, depending upon each person for barter, trade, skill, and survival. Great grandfather Berrington, Junior, great grandfather Gage, great grandfather Sawyer, and great grandfather Mangrove, each produced one son and named the heir after themselves, in case, something bad happened.

Then, the son carried both the name and the tradition with them to the next generation of the Quartet. The ancestral concept was instilled into each youngster's head while growing into a foursome of big, strong, and ambitious young men of a free country.

The young men married and produced one child, the second generation son which also honored the same surname and family tradition that was started by their biological fathers. Their son married and produced one child and then the third generation was born.

Currently, the fourth generation of sons rode in the silver tinted limousine that belonged to Austin while traveling back home to the beach city of Coral Beach, sharing the social concept of family, not necessary a set of blood relatives. A family represented people, who sweated, worked, helped, cared, and loved you and all your clan.

Berrington, Gage, Mangrove, and Sawyer were not related by biological blood, not one of their parents was a distant aunt or uncle or fourth cousin on their biological family tree. Because, the boys were bonded by a tradition that had been both established and honored by their individual great grandfathers in the year 1838.

Austin had told this unique tradition to Clifford as teens.

Clifford was quite curious about a bond so strong that one guy or gal could not break, bend, or tug. Clifford was jealous as an only child and wanted to be a part of the "Band of Brothers."

Of course, Tom, Frank, and Stu yelled, no.

Austin compromised and invited Clifford to be his "Berrington" brother.

Clifford had accepted the offer. Thus, Austin and Clifford enjoyed the bond union together, secretively during their law school days.

Present day and place

10:04 a.m.

Limousine ride on north US Highway One

"Gimme," Tom snatched the letter like a thief in the night, before Stu reacted.

Austin was too confused, mentally, and was not going to fight or yell or pull a gun against Tom physically either.

Frank was torn to bits, revealing his compassionate and caring self only to his true brothers. Frank was total calm, cool, and controlled in any dangerous, deadly fucking butt-kicking combat match, using his precious doctoring skills, saving your ass and anything other body part torn loose. Frank had saved Tom a couple of times.

But Tom was not going to mention it now.

Stu was Stu with his sober, somber, clear-headedness in combat battles, quiet with his thoughts, unexcited in events, unruffled with words, severe with his actions, restrained with his warrior skills, and strong as a bull elephant that lived on the continent of Africa. The brother became a chameleon, transforming from a human form to a robot form in a deadly situation, saving your fucking ass, too. Gage had saved Tom a couple of times also.

But Tom was not going to relive those battle stories at this time either.

The point of the Quartet is four men with varied skills and equal talents, one purpose, the Band of Brothers.

Tom quickly read the letter. "Clifford's sorry. He and Marge can't live on Earth without their son. They went to Heaven to be with God and Cliffy. He left all his earthly possessions to his earthly brother Austin. The stuff's located in a warehouse in Miami Springs." He was better at giving bad news.

Frank was correct that real lawyers didn't have any souls.

Tom's job was easy, find the guilty party, attack the guilty party, and punish the guilty party. Emotions were not necessary only facts or sometimes fiction, if the jury could swallow it. Since real justice was deaf, dumb, and blind and so was Thomas Edison Sawyer, III.

"Address?" Austin viewed Tom.

"It is 84 Spring Road, Warehouse Number 31, Miami Springs," Tom scanned the letter.

Austin punched the speaker. "Joe, we're going to Miami Springs on 84 Springs Road, Warehouse Number 31. Please, GPS it."

"Yes sir." Joe slowed and turned the limo, driving to Interstate 95 in the direction of the city of Miami Springs.

"Jefferson?" Frank sneered.

Clifford, Marge, and Cliffy were happily together in heaven. Frank would not be seeing them for a very long time. But during his remaining days on Earth, Frank would seek the killer of the boy, using his billions, his brains, and his balls. Then Frank would beat the shit of him, first and turn him over to Stu, who would beat the hell of him, second and then turn him over to Austin.

And Frank smirked.

Austin would finish killing him in his own red colored blood with both his bare naked hands.

Frank was not involving Tom.

Tom liked his justice more in the court room than the bar room.

Frank viewed Austin. "Since June one, Jefferson has danced, jiggled, pranced, and trotted around the facts of this medical..."

"This murder," Stu sneered.

Austin smiled to Frank. "Not any more, the Band of Brothers is taking over."

"How so?" Stu frowned to Austin.

Austin smirked to Stu. "Didn't I update you?"

"No." Stu exhaled, turning to see the face of each brother.

"Tell us!" Frank smirked and nodded.

"What the shit have you done, now, Austin?" Tom frowned with understanding of his non-biological brother Austin all too well.

When Austin did not get what he wanted, he did not throw a temper tantrum. Berrington tossed money, men, and immoral maxims at your ass. Shit, you were lucky to be left alive and breathing after Badass Berrington was finished with your bloody body and your mutated brains.

"We're flying to Tallahassee this afternoon for a long sweet quiet dinner with the governor." Austin smiled to Frank.

Tom flung his hand into the air with a sour frown. "That's why ya cancelled the Bahamas trip. Shit, man, we all could be lying on the sandy beach naked." He folded his arms with a sour frown at Austin.

Frank turned and chuckled to Sawyer. "Thomas, you do not sit or lay or eat or spit on the hot sands when we go to the Bahamas."

Tom viewed the floor. "Know that."

Stu chuckled to Tom. "He can't because of his ancestry..."

"Shut up, Stu." Tom turned and sneered at Stu.

"The chat with the governor is not my primary reason for canceling our vacation." Austin smiled to Tom.

"Aren't you paying attention, bro?" Stu winked with a chuckle to Tom.

"I thought that the Band of Brothers as a democracy. We should vote." Tom frowned to Austin.

"We did." Frank chuckled to Tom.

"Hell, I didn't vote." Tom frowned to Frank.

"We did." Frank smiled to Tom.

"What the hell does that mean, Frank?" Tom frowned.

Frank scanned his brothers with a nod. "We all loved Clifford, Marge, and Cliffy. They are...were our friends."

"Brother and sister." Austin viewed the box.

"Know that." Tom nodded.

"A family oath, revenging a death for a death," Frank nodded to Stu.

"Ya sound like a West Virginian hick engaged in a civil war family feud there, Frank?" Tom shook his bangs with a sour frown.

"Actually, I consider myself to be a hellacious fucked off Miami city slicker." Frank smirked to Tom.

Tom snorted. "Is there really a difference, Mangrove?"

"Of course, I carry a gun." Frank chuckled. Stu laughed and Austin grinned.

Tom frowned to Frank. "All hillbillies carry weapons, shooting the shit out of people."

Frank swiftly pulled the Ghost from his breast holster, displaying his deadly toy in the air.

The weapon was a creation of Stu's violent battle mindset. The silver metal alloy weighed seven ounces, less than half a pound. The alloy mixture was a secret ingredient only known by Stu and the private American manufacturing gun and ammunition business company.

Buy American!

The barrel was short and squared not rounded, allowing an easy fit in a coat jacket or a trouser pocket without a bulky carrying case. The gun cylinder pumped explosive rectangle geometric ammunition-shapes in the format of tiny razor blades. The sharp jagged flying projectiles can penetrate a steel casing on the outside of a building.

Once hit, ya did not die immediately, but you could bleed to death, if the right vein was severed.

If you happened to get filled with four to five of the slugs, you could feel death, tap dancing on your collar bone. The point of the Ghost, when conscious you felt constant pain or everlasting pain near your death as a caring medical personnel tried really hard to save your sorry ass.

"Mine is registered to shoot the shit out of people, legally." Frank smiled. Stu laughed. Austin grinned.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see out the window and then back to see Frank. "Jeezus Christ, I'm driving next time, so I don't have to listen to your asswipes' irrational, immoral, and illegal bull shit."

"We have arrived at warehouse number 31, Austin," Joe said via the speaker as the limousine slowed and then stopped at the proper destination.

10:33 a.m.

City of Miami Springs (10 miles north of Coral Beach)

Warehouse district setting

Hot temperature with bright sunshine

"If you don't want our company, Tom, I suggest you find another way back to Coral Beach." Austin reached over with a stern face and pressed the button, opening the side limousine door.

"Huh?" Tom gasped with shock, "What?"

"Tom gets to walk home." Stu reached down with a chuckle and slapped the leg on Tom with a smile, sliding out the door, standing in the bright sunshine.

"Hey!" Tom said with a confused brow. "What?"

"The limo ride will be nice and quiet for a change. Ain't that Right, Franklin?" Stu stood with a chuckle beside Frank while watching Tom sweat inside the cool air conditioned cabin of the limousine.

"Wait! I don't mean, now, right this minute, Austin." Tom scooted across the long bench and exited out on Austin's side of the limousine, standing in the hot bright sunlight with a worried brow.

"The weather is very nice for long walk. Don't you think so, Stuart?" Frank placed a pair of sunglasses over the eyeballs, admiring the beautiful baby blue skyline.

"Lovely." Stu shaded the eyeballs with a pair of cool sunglasses with a smile while looking up to see heavens. "There is not a cloud within the Florida baby blue skyline."

Austin moved ahead with a stern face towards the warehouse door with Frank and Stu.

"I meant to the airport, Austin." Tom moved behind Austin, Frank, and Stu with a worried brow.

Austin stopped and admired the padded lock of Warehouse door number 31, "Key?" He spun around to see Sawyer.

"Huh!" Tom said with a puzzled frown to Austin, "What?"

Austin pointed down with a stern face at the envelope. "Tom, you're holding the envelope. Was there a key?"

"O yeah," Tom turned the envelope upside down emptying out the contents: the paper and a small white envelope on top of the white concrete pavement, reaching down, and grabbed the envelope, handing to Austin. Austin accepted and ripped the envelope in half, revealing a golden key, inserting the key in the matching metal lock as the door opened with the sound of a creepy creak. Austin exhaled with a huff of worry and stared into the darkness. Tom flung both arms over a skull with a sour frown. "Shit! Not fucking again! Get out of the gawd damn way." He shoved Austin aside and moved in the dark warehouse with a smile.

"No soul." Stu followed behind the ass on Tom with a smile and a chuckle.

"No emotion." Frank followed behind the ass of Stu with a smile.

"Heard that!" Tom shoved the heavy door wide open and moved further into the dark room.

"Supposed too," Stu chuckled.

Tom reached over and flipped on the light switch to see the room. The room was a set of four concrete gray walls that was quiet and cold with a working air conditioning unit as each storage room had its own thermometer for storing any type of fragile packages like a human body. Miami was one of the top five most dangerous crime cities in the world, where people stored a dead body or two in a monthly private secured rental storage compartment for days, months, years, and decades, without anyone finding out for their shit and their giggles.

However, the rental storage compartment by Clifford was empty of piled cardboard boxes. Instead, two tables sat diagonally in a v-shaped pattern which was center staged in the small space, where each table contained neatly stacked big and large wrapped packages in dull brown paper.

"Looky! There are two tables of presents for me." Tom skipped ahead with a grin and a giggle towards the first package, stopping at the table, reaching out and grabbed the package, ripping off tied string.

"Stop, Tom!" Stu moved ahead towards Sawyer before Tom caused more damage.

"Why?" Tom spun around to see Austin. All the items on the two tables really belonged to Austin as stated in the Last Will and Testimony of Clifford. Tom had reread and updated the will after the discovery of the dead body of Cliffy, since Tom was planning to give the new changes to Clifford for his approval today. The Last Will and Testimony was a piece of living document that must be kept alive. The personal Will stated that Austin was both the guardian and the godfather to care for Cliffy as his ward, if something ever happened to his parents. If something bad ever happened to all three, then Austin would receive everything including the Burton estate, cars, company, bank accounts, furniture, and other nice stuff. Tom exhaled with a puff of annoyance while understanding that Austin was not in any mood for his goofy off-the-wall behavior, now.

"Leave it!" Austin scanned each unwrapped presents with a stern face.

Tom quietly strolled around the table, opening the last drawer on the small third-tiered box. "Hey, Frank! Come and look at these diamonds." He reached down and grabbed, lifting up a pretty necklace for Frank's view.

Frank moved to Tom, staring at the neckline, "Very nice, antique."

"Sell it." Austin viewed the unwrapped presents.

Tom frowned to Austin. "Sell it? Austin, damn it! Clifford had acquired the warehouse and moved all his personal delicate earthly possessions which he must have cared greatly about, here. He left the note for you to see and then died and ascended into heaven with God and Cliffy. He wanted you to have his trinkets to remember him by not to be discharged to an auction house for strangers to bid and fuss over with money. Hell, man! Clifford could have burned the stuff or given it away to the welfare company. He chose these objects with care for you, Austin. He wanted you to remember the good times, the bad times, and the old times, you and he had together. Now, you just want to sell these fine and antique ornaments of his life to savage, greedy Miamians," exhaling with a huff of annoyance.

"The blood sucking leech is heartless, but he does have a brain." Frank nodded with a smile to Austin.

"Frank, uh! Was that an insult at me?" Tom turned and frowned at the nose profile on Frank.

"It was a compliment, Tom," Frank turned and grinned to Tom.

"Okay," Tom smiled with a nod.

Austin turned and scanned all the wrapped packages, pondering that Tom was a blood sucking leech, but sometimes he showed that he cared in his own way. He nodded with a stern face. "Tom's correct."

"The man's on a roll." Stu grinned to Tom.

"Damn right and proud of it too!" Tom quoted the Quartet motto with a smile to Stu. Gage chuckled and Frank grinned.

"Stu, move all the delicate and fine ornaments to our office. We can take our time combing the gifts. I want each of you to indulge yourselves. Clifford left his gifts for all of us. Agreed?" Austin nodded.

"Yeah," Tom smiled with a nod.

"Agreed," Frank nodded with a smile.

"All right," Stu nodded with a smile.

"Roll out!" Austin nodded with a stern face. "We need to catch the jet to the State Capital." Austin swung around from the tables and moved ahead towards the open archway.

"Tom, you need to start walking or maybe running, if you're going to catch the jet, before taxiing." Stu spun around and moved behind Frank, reaching over and flipped off the light switch while leaving Tom last in line again.

"Ha! Ha! That is very funny, asshole," Tom moved ahead through the dark and exited into the bright sunlight behind the ass of Stu, allowing the warehouse door to slam and to lock automatically.

Frank moved beside Stu with a smile and looked back over a collar bone to Tom. "I suggest hiking I-95. You might get a lift from a pretty girl," he returned to see the limousine with a chuckle.

"Austin!" Tom slowly trailed behind the asses of Stu and Frank while sweating in the hot Florida heat.

"Or a horny guy? Ya got to be very careful these days, bro." Stu elbowed Frank with a smile as they both laughed their asses off. Austin stopped with a grin and slid down into the rear cabin of the limousine in silence.

"Austin?" Tom stopped and stood with a sour frown outside the closed limousine door, grabbing the mobile telephone from the sports jacket. He could call a taxi cab and experience an embarrassment as a high profile lawyer of a billion-dollar company riding toward the private airstrip in a beat up rusty taxi cab. "Shit!" He moaned.

"Bye, bye, Tom! See ya in Tallahassee for dinner." Stu waved with a chuckle and then slid down in the rear bench seat of the limousine as the automatic door closed Gage inside the cool air conditioned vehicle.

"Later, Thomas! I hope that he makes it in time for dinner, maybe for after dinner drinks." Frank ducked underneath the roof top and slid down in the limo, closing the automatic limo door on his side of the transport with a laugh. Tom slumped forward a set of shoulders and stood on top of the heated concrete, sweating in the hot sun. This was Austin's vehicle, not his.

The window on the limousine silently dropped and revealed the nose profile on Austin as he sneered at Sawyer. "Get inside the damn car, Tom!" Joe hustled around the rear bumper with a chuckle and opened the limousine door for the silly billionaire.

11:04 p.m.

City of Kendall (six miles south of Coral Beach)

Charity Kendall Hospital

Oncology ward setting

Waning crescent moon with fair skies and warm temperatures

Wilma entered her privately assigned hospital room, shutting the door as a fake oncology patient, part of Margo's genius investigative plan. She climbed into her patient bed, laying out her working notes, typing on the laptop all her collected secrets for the night.

The old sick woman, across the hallway, was the last victim of the mystery murderer. Now, the mysterious murders had stopped without any warning per the whispered information from the middle aged nurse, eating in the nurse station.

Wilma could feel the killer nearby, hiding his body among the dark shadows of the hallway. She felt excitedly anticipation as her investigative report would lead the front page headline, tomorrow. Then all Miami would see her winning words of bad news.

She typed with a smirk in silence.

The closed door sounded with a knock and opened. The bright hall light crept in the room as the wheels squeaked on a rolling cart over the hard tile.

A female appeared in the archway of the hospital room. "Hey, kid."

"Not now." Wilma typed, ignoring the girl.

The female fingered the clip board on the door. "Your name isn't the chart, kid."

Wilma viewed the female, who was one the volunteers in a pink and white uniform. The female served both refreshments and magazines to the sick patients and attending family members. Wilma looked down to laptop, saying. "No."

"Cookies and milk, kid," the female glided in the room.

"No." Wilma typed, shaking her curls, concentrating her mental thoughts on the front page article.

"A back rub, kid," the female moved closer to the bed.

"No." Wilma typed faster on the laptop with her lightning burst of ideas.

"How about this?" The female slammed the pillow over Wilma's skull, injecting a tiny needle in Wilma's arm vein. The strong female held Wilma tight against her pink and white uniform, slowly removing the pillow, viewing a dead Wilma, and she smirked. "Bye, kid."
Sunday June 6th

10:10 p.m.

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north of Miami)

House of Professor Fabian Icarius kitchen setting

Warm temperatures with partly cloudy night

Fabian quietly disconnected his mobile telephone and moved to the kitchen counter, standing and grabbing a set of cold beer bottles.

Ned entered into the kitchen. He had awakened from a short cap nap after the fucking orgy with the four girls, since all the young college student were leaving to go back to their homes.

Fabian reached and grabbed the knife, chopping up a late night snack of meat with a smile. "I'm going on a vacation, Ned."

"Where?" Ned reached and grabbed the object, screwing the lid on a new beer bottle from Fabian.

"Miami." Fabian smiled, slipping on the cold bottle of beer.

"Florida?" Ned frowned.

"I have old friends there."

"Friends?" Ned frowned.

"Are you interested, Ned?"

"Girl or guy?" Ned laughed.

"Bad."

"Bad friends, what for?" Ned reached and ate from the open potato chip bag.

Fabian smiled with a nod and chopped up the meat for a sandwich. "I'm going to be rich."

"Rich?" Ned chuckled.

"Are you interested in becoming rich, Ned?"

"Shit. I mentioned before I was interested in money, lots of lots of money. That's an intriguing concept." Ned reached and grabbed more potato chips from the open bag, eating and chewing.

"I have an idea that's going to make millions for me."

"What is it?" Ned sipped the beer.

"I have found a new energy source. But I don't know how to use. How to deploy? How to employ? How to anything yet?"

"What energy source?" Ned sipped the beer.

"Pink wave length." Fabian smiled.

Ned laughed. "Pink. Not red or green, but pink."

"Yes, dumb shit. Pink is one of the colors on the prism stone which is used to measure length, distance, and strength of an electromagnetic radiation wave."

"So you have discovered a radiation rock in Athens, Georgia. Where's the radiation located around your house, the school, or the lake? I always thought that lake might have been a sight for barrels of radiation from the area's nuclear powered energy plant." Ned sipped the beer.

"No, not a location, it is a person."

"I don't understand." Ned ate more of the potato chips.

"Then, allow me to show you!" Fabian turned and moved to a side door inside the kitchen. The hidden room was used as a laboratory for his scientific analysis. He paced in a set of hurried steps on his naked feet and a bathrobe without the beer bottle.

Ned turned and followed behind Fabian to the side door, holding his beer bottle.

The door opened.

Fabian entered the lighted room and stood in front of a video recorder and a television monitor and hit a series of switches, triggering the lights off and a video tape on. A video played. Ned moved and stood beside Fabian, listening and watching. The college students became wet, mad, and sad. Fabian reached over and flipped the light lamps on with a smile. "Did you see it?"

"I saw wet kids." Ned laughed.

"The girl in the red dress, did you notice that she wore an aura?" Fabian reached over and hit another button on the video console of the computer as the video showed a pink shimmering tone around one of the females.

"What's that?" Ned pointed with a gasp at the computer screen.

"Electromagnetic energy that is incoherent and in a single colored and un-broken wave length." Fabian smiled at the video image of his student Athena.

"What else?" Ned frowned.

Fabian smiled with a nod. "She can de-power computers, musical players, recorders, and other electronic equipment."

"What else?" Ned frowned as he did not understand Fabian and the video.

Fabian smiled with a nod. "She is the 'source' of the present and then vanished set of afternoon short thunderstorms every day as she walks across campus coming from her car to her academic classes."

"What else?" Ned didn't understand the short afternoon thunderstorms, Fabian, and the video.

"Is that all you are going to say: what else?" Fabian turned and sneered at the nose profile on Ned, swinging around to the archway of the room.

The door opened. Fabian paced back into the kitchen counter, stopping, sitting on the bar stool and reached over for the warm beer bottle.

"I'm learning. I am a slow learner. So, teach me more, Fabian!" Ned turned and followed Fabian with a chuckle and a nod out from the hidden room.

Fabian said. "Semi-conductor chips produce a very tiny laser beam and are currently employed as the tiny horizontal bar codes that read all the food items inside the supermarket. So the price can be electronically and quickly recorded by a computer without human error from a stupid foreign speaking cashier."

He sat next to Fabian with a smile and a nod. "What else?" Ned reached and grabbed the potato chips from the open bag, eating and chewing.

Fabian frowned. "The beam is feeble."

"Not noticed." Ned ate the food.

Fabian said. "Also the output power is less than a thousandth of a watt, thousands of times weaker than the smallest night-light."

"Wow!" Ned snorted with amusement and reached for more chips.

"There are lasers that can produce a light of more than two million watts, but it only lasts for a few seconds." Fabian smiled with a nod.

"Really?" Ned snorted with amusement and sipped the beer.

"Actually, lasers use a lot more energy than they produce." Fabian said.

"What else?" Ned sipped the beer.

"The flash of a laser is about twenty-percent pure energy."

"What else?"

Fabian turned and sneered at the nose profile on Ned. "Don't start that again. Listen to this. If all the pure energy of a laser is pointed at one tiny spot, then the temperature at that one tiny hot spot increases. Then the laser beam can cut through more of the dense metal, quickly and neatly rather than a flame torch or a buzzing chain saw."

"Good."

"If the laser holds a weaker pure amount of energy, then it can cut a piece of paper or a strap of rubber."

"I be damn." Ned laughed.

"Lasers are used on humans during a retina eye repair. The beam is so quick and sharp that the produced lighted heat does not have a chance to harm anything around the human eyeball."

"Can she, who is your new wave length, harm me, you, or any human?" Ned reached and grabbed more chips, eating and chewing.

"No."

"Interesting." Ned sipped the beer.

"A laser light can be used to remove ugly warts, body freckles, silly tattoos, foot corns, and other ugly deformities on top of the epidermis skin of a human being."

"Interesting." Ned sipped the beer.

Fabian smiled. "The most common use of a laser is as a printer output for a computer, a musical disc, a movie disc, optical fibers inside the telephone lines, and a piece of medical equipment for health diagnosis of cancers. The laser beam is so tight and so tightly concentrated to a fine point that ordinary seeing light can't do that magic. Because an ordinary seeing light wave go every which way and can't be brought and held into an exact tight stream of point."

"So her beam doesn't go everywhere but focused in a tight point. So is she a laser beam then?"

"No. She's energy." Fabian shook his black ponytail with a sour frown.

"Energy? How is she a piece of energy? A slice of energy. A point of energy?" Ned smirked.

"Her wave length is similar to a radio wave or television station wave. There are gaps between the wave lengths of air molecules, so there is no overlap and confusion between two nearly alike waves."

"No fine point." Ned nodded.

Fabian clapped with a nod and a smile. "Right on. The shorter the wavelength, the less message format can be sent into the space of air molecules. Therefore, a single radio wave can pack millions of air channels but no distance."

"What else?" Ned still didn't understand Fabian's fable but enjoyed the beer and the potato chips.

"Channels can travel through rain, fog, clouds, trees, walls, and so forth. Light can't do that. The wave bounces off the upper atmosphere, so a smart human with a radar screen can follow the curve of the Earth and reach longer distances. Light travels in a straight line moving out of a human's eye sight pathway."

"So, she doesn't, am I correct?" Ned snorted with amusement.

"Right on. Her energy doesn't travel in a straight line."

"How about satellites to manipulate the energy?"

"Good point. However, it is too expensive for my small monetary budget unless you have a billion bank account hanging around Athens, Georgia." Fabian laughed.

"If I did, then I won't be here, scout." Ned sipped the beer to balance out the salty potato chips inside his mouth.

"The photons inside a beam can bounce back and forth too, creating many pathways of strong energy, while gathering into the chicken basket more photons and more energy atoms with each hit and pass."

"So ya got more energy of a single wave length." Ned ate more chips.

"Actually, I have an unlimited energy mine. The pathway is outward. I can't contain the single ray. Unless..."

"No..." Ned gasped.

"Yes..." Fabian grinned with a nod.

"No..." Ned had realized that the young college female in the red dress was some kind of free floating energy mine. "You said it. I didn't. She can turn off electronic equipment. Electronic equipment, computers, radios, televisions. How about alarms?"

Fabian smiled. "What kind of alarms?"

Ned smiled, "How about bank alarms?"

"Yeah. She can turn off a bank alarm with ease." Fabian nodded.

Ned whipped his chin down to his chest with a whisper and a smile. "Banks in Florida."

Fabian stared at the hair roots on Ned with a smirk. "Yeah. Florida."

Ned jerked up with a smile to see Fabian. "That's where you are going both the place and the person?"

Fabian nodded with a smile, "Tomorrow."

"That soon?" Ned frowned.

Fabian grinned. "Are you interested, Ned?"

Ned parted his lips, "Are you telling me that you're moving to Miami, tomorrow, Fabian?"

Fabian grinned with a nod. "I need a partner, Ned."

Ned cuts his eyelids down to the floor. "Doing what?" He looked up with a stern face to see Fabian. "What would I do?"

Fabian smiled. "Babysitting, the company kids."

Ned shook his skull. "What company? What kids? What are you talking about, Fabian?"

"I have a new company with a set of new employees. I need a manager to manage, since I'll be dealing with the other very important contacts."

Ned narrowed his eyelids with suspicion. "What other very important contacts, Fabian?"

"Don't ask? Don't tell?"

"Okay?"

"I need a managing partner who looks like a clean cut a camper scout boy."

Ned frowned. "O. That's me."

"You deal with the banks, the bankers, the bank money, the conservation people. And you are knowledgeable about the banking industry."

"You have me by my big toes, sir." Ned smiled at the thought of using his bank skills to became a millionaire or maybe a billionaire like some of his daydream heroes.

Fabian sipped the beer. "What would you think if I entered the bank requesting a loan for you, Ned?"

"I'll call security and arrest your butthole." Ned smiled.

"Need I say more?" He laughed with a nod.

"I fit the bill, Fabian."

"You fit the bill, Ned."

"Intriguing proposal?"

"Your answer?"

"My class..." Ned said with worried brow about Fabian's fable.

"The date of May thirty first was Monday, the start of the Athens University mini-session with no testing examinations yet. You are free as a jailed bird, my new friend." Fabian laughed.

"What about your teaching tenure, Fabian?"

"I stay here." Fabian nodded with a smile.

Ned frowned. "You should resign tomorrow, June eighth too."

"I suggest that you do that tomorrow on June eighth. I must stay here until the end of the mini-session on June 25th. I'll leave and join you before the fourth of July holiday. It was look too suspicious if two university professors quit on the same day." Fabian chuckled.

"Will the university be suspicious of my quick resignation, Fabian?"

"What? You quit a boring low paying job for a fabulous city life metro Miami of hot South Florida."

"I keep forgetting the hot part." Ned chuckled.

Fabian nodded with a grin. "Ya wanna feel the hot part? Take me advice. Contract your bank supervisor at work, curse him out on the phone, and then quit. You are done with Athens 'going nowhere' Georgia too. You are home free for Miami 'fucking' Florida."

Ned frowned. "My benefits, my pension from all the years of hard work at my bank. They burn when I up and quit like that."

"So, you'll get millions within days."

"Days and millions of dollars?"

He crossed his arms with a nod and a smile. "I promise."

"You promise or what?" Ned narrowed his eyelids at Fabian's fabulous fable.

He smiled. "Trust me. I have a plan. I have a wave length that can disrupt any alarm system on sight. Free monies. Free girls. Free damn anything."

Ned laughed. "Good point."

"What do you say, Ned?"

"I'm in. I hope that you're right about the millions and my future."

"More than right, I'm going to be rich, too."

"Me, too."

"Yes. Both of us."

"I'm beat. I gotta cuss my boss out on the phone tomorrow. I'm heading out." Ned stood and back stepped from the bar with a laugh and a grin.

"Here's the address of the apartment and our new business venture. I took the liberty of typing out the fake background, the bank robbing instructions, the traveling directions, the real apartment and office keys, some real money and everything else." Fabian reached and grabbed a large envelope, turning and handing with a smile and a nod to Ned. "The Consulting Firm."

"Clever." Ned accepted the envelope with a snort of the stupid name.

"I like to be ordinary in a world full of impossibilities." Fabian nodded with a smile.

"Thanks for taking a chance on me." Ned lifted and raised an empty beer bottle with a nod.

"Life is filled with chances for both you and me." Fabian lifted and tapped his bottle to Ned's with a chuckle and a smile. "To Miami."

"To money." Ned dropped the empty beer bottle on the table, turning and leaving Professor Fabian Icarius for a long trip to Miami, Florida to become a billionaire.
Monday June 7th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waning moon, warm temperatures with cloudy sky

"Ah!" He rolled out from his bed, dashing to the bathroom sink, splashing a handful of cold water on his sweaty face, and viewed the mirror. "Bags. More bags."

He closed his eyelids, exhaling and opened his eyelids, staring at a wet face. He reached for the hand towel, cleaning a wet face and dropped the towel in the sink.

He moved out the bathroom to the sitting chair in his bedroom, picking up the book, rereading chapter fifteen, and shut out the horrible nightmare, until a sleepy exhaustion could overtake his active mind.

6:46 a.m.

City of Kendall (five miles south of Coral Beach)

Headquarters Charity Kendall Hospital

Office of super president Jefferson

Hot temperatures with partly cloudy sky

"Damn it. What a mess, Jefferson? Who is Wilma, uh, Swope?" Superman number one frowned to Jefferson.

"Hells bells, she's one of the many snoopy journalists for the Miami-Dade Newspaper." Superman number two answered for Jefferson, nodding.

"How did she get into the hospital, Jefferson?" Superman number three frowned to Jefferson.

Superman number four nodded, saying to superman three. "Joint Commission requires all visitors to show a name tag before entering any patient room, citing compliance number..."

Superwoman number two viewed her peer, sneering. "Shut up, asshole." She frowned to Jefferson, nodding. "A better question, how did she get into a bed as a patient, Jefferson?"

Superman number three smiled at Jefferson. "A spy. No surprise there. She's probably one of Berrington's plants."

"Doubt it. Austin is thorough, direct, and successful, not sneaky, deceptive, or dumb. None of these boys are dumb. We're the dummies. Hear me, Jefferson. We should've allowed Berrington to lead the charge. He has the brains, the balls, and the bucks." Superman number one sneered to Jefferson.

Judy smiled and stood in the archway. "Dr. Brandt?"

"What!?" Jefferson sneered, looking at one of the annoying super board members.

Judy nodded. "I have Mr. and Mrs. Swope on telephone line number three, demanding to talk to you, sir."

"Jacobs, aren't you the damn lawyer for Charity Healthcare System?" Jefferson sneered, viewing Judy. "And find me CMO Meitner, as soon as possible."

Judy nodded with a stern face, exiting the room.

"On it!" Head attorney for Charity Healthcare System Zachary Taylor Jacobs stood and exited the office.

"Can you say multimillion dollar law suit?" Superman number three smirked to Jefferson.

"Shut up, asshole! Reporters, media, law, and enforcement officers are crawling up and down the corridors looking for that...that killer...Jefferson. When our oncology nurse reported to our hospital security, our hospital security called 911. Then the 911 EMS folks called the entire gawd damn world. There are cars, ambulances, fire trucks, police and fire and rescue vehicles." Superman number two viewed the window, scanning the parking lot.

"The forest rangers are here." Superman number three chuckled.

"And so is Berrington." Superman number one frowned to Jefferson.

"Kick his damn ass through our front doors and into the water fountain, Jefferson." Superman number two chuckled, nodding with the other supermen and women.

"Remove Austin, immediately? On what grounds, Jefferson?" Patrick Henry Foat, Super vice president of finance for the Charity Healthcare System Patrick Henry Foat frowned, shaking his skull to Jefferson.

"Find him and escort Mr. Berrington to my office." Jefferson ordered. "Containment. If the boys are here, they can't make any more trouble for us."

"Good point." Patrick nodded, smiling.

"That was quick." Superman number three fingered the archway.

"Good morning, Austin." Jefferson viewed Badass Berrington in his office archway.

Austin was casually dressed in a black jacket paired with a white turtleneck and a pair of black trousers like he was going to dinner date instead of a business emergency meeting.

"Are you having troubles, Jefferson?" Austin extended his hand, smiling.

Jefferson viewed the hand greatly desiring flip the bastard over his shoulder and sucker punch his fist between Austin's silver tinted eyeballs. Then Jefferson would strangle his Adams's apple with his two bare naked hands.

Austin acted both calm and friendly like he was asking his automobile mechanic, if the belts were broken on an engine of a car, while Jefferson tossed and turned in his bed mattress, possessing nightmares of a child dead with a mysterious disease on the oncology nursing floor. He was a good president with no scamming, no blackmails or fraud coming from his hospital executive staff.

All over the planet, health care executives were committing illegal acts of greed, stealing pension plans from employees and the company's operating funds to purchase vacation homes and fancy sports cars. Now, the entire healthcare industry was audited, probed, prodded, viewed, reviewed, and hunted like lobsters during the fishing season for one little mistake.

Austin moved to an empty corner chair, noting the six telephones on Jefferson's desk blinked on and off with more bad news.

"Where's your clan?" Patrick smiled to Austin.

Austin sat in the chair, viewing Patrick, "Hunting."

"Hunting season for lobsters," Patrick nodded with a grin and a chuckle.

Two days, in the month of July, the US ocean waters were opened for Florida's nicknamed "bug hunting" season. The lobster bag limit was posted at twelve-per-day for two days, after the two-day deadline, the mini-lobster season closed until next year.

The fishermen and women tickled the adult lobsters from their cozy safe reefs in the open sea for a prized netted capture. If you were lucky with your seafood treasure and caught a bug, then your red lips tasted the juice of a Florida lobster which was sweeter than a woman's kiss.

"Charity execs," Austin smirked to Patrick.

Patrick turned with a worried brow to see the wall of pink colors.

"Sir, I found the source of the..." Margo stood in the archway, viewing the overcrowded office suit.

"Out with it." Jefferson stared at Margo.

Margo shook the paper for attention. Judy did not comment about the distinguished Charity supermen and woman in Jefferson's office. She cleared her throat. "Khan admitted the spying journalist under the dummy name of Ivy Green. Ivy Green was admitted into room 879 on the oncology floor as a terminal HIV patient, yesterday afternoon. Khan used his IT computer username and password," she looked up with a smirk to see Jefferson, handing him the paper.

"We have a killer in the hospital, Jefferson." Superman number two gasped.

He accepted and studied the paper. "Where's Khan?"

Superman number one said. "Handling the media, that's his job as CPI."

"Get his ass in here." Jefferson stared at Margo as she nodded.

"We have a real problem, Jefferson. Do something, now?" Superman number two frowned to Jefferson.

Khan slammed the door shut, viewing Jefferson. "Jefferson, I am busy."

"That was quick." Superman number three chuckled, sitting in the chair and viewing Khan.

Jefferson shoved the paper to Khan.

Khan accepted and silently read the paper, exhaling. "I can't. You don't think." He viewed Margo as she smirked. He exhaled and viewed Jefferson. "You're insane. I was set up by Margo. She's after my job, Jefferson."

"Now, here is not the proper time for this discussion in front of visitors." Patrick fingered to Austin, watching Jefferson handle the delicate situation.

"I'm not a visitor. I'm a paid board member." Austin smirked and watched Jefferson, too.

"Austin is at that." Dunning, super vice-president of operations smiled to Berrington.

"Khan, you're fired." Jefferson flipped his hand. "Call hospital security to escort him out of my office."

"Jefferson!?" Khan nodded, exhaling. "No need, I will leave, peacefully." He elegantly exited the office.

Margo smiled, feeling her ass, kissing Khan's new leather chair as the new CPI.

The walls had eardrums. The rooms had eyeballs. And Wilma had found the killer, hiding within the pink painted walls of Charity Kendall Hospital, right under Jefferson's nostrils.

"Margo, you're fired too." Jefferson yelled at Margo. "I don't like tattle tales, snitches, or fibbers. Get out. Where the hell is our hospital security?"

Margo nodded, swinging around, exiting the office.

"Next?" Superman number three chuckled.

Austin stood as all the eyeballs viewed him. He exhaled, lifting the paper. "I am holding a warrant from the governor of Florida."

Jefferson viewed Austin. "Jacobs?"

"He's busy, sir." Superman number one grinned at the new dog fight.

Austin did not smile. "The warrant orders a new state of Florida governor special appointed committee along with the collaborative assistance of the local Miami FBI Office to investigate, review, and evaluation the death of Clifford Milton Burton, the third."

"Mighty impressive lot of friends." Jefferson sneered.

"More than you have," Austin smirked.

"For the moment," Jefferson smiled.

Austin said. "I expect full cooperation from all hospital facilities and all hospital departments, all hospital personnel, and access to all hospital medical records for legal review, Jefferson."

Jefferson nodded to Austin. "Done."

"Thank you." Austin nodded to Jefferson.

"One more thing," Jefferson smirked.

Austin felt the heat wave of Jefferson's angry and the fury from his job, his pressure, and his distress, regarding the discovery of a dead child from a minor injury of a broken leg.

Jefferson was fifty-eight years of age, holding a powerful position in the Charity Healthcare System with an excellent compensation package and very good benefits for his wife and his family members.

Austin was not jealous or envious. He owned one-fourth of a multi-billion-dollar company, providing freedom and privilege for him, his future spouse, his future children, his future grandchildren, and his future great grandchildren for decades to come. Austin was not mad or angry or furious as he was revengeful over the death of an innocent young child, an unnecessary selfish act committed by an employee at Charity Kendall Hospital, right under Jefferson's hairy nostrils.

The Charity supermen and women indulged in the rank and the file as earth-gods and earth-goddesses above the earth-men and the earth-women, but they were still obligated to the hospital.

A hospital was a living and breathing entity with people, babies, teens, kids, and one ten-year-old baseball player, who broke his leg, riding his bike in the back yard of his family residence.

Austin was not mad just getting even as super president Jefferson, the super board, and all the top brass of Charity Healthcare System would pay dearly for their fucking boo-boo. Austin would see to that personal punishment for this senseless crime, using his billions, his brains, and his balls.

"Austin, you're fired." Jefferson smirked.

Patrick fingered Austin, frowning. "You can't fire him. The super board of directors requires a two-thirds vote, Jefferson." Patrick viewed Jefferson.

"Full board?" Jefferson viewed Patrick.

Patrick shook his skull. "Only a referendum needed, if available."

"How many members, Patrick?" Jefferson smirked to Austin.

"The super board of directors holds twenty-five people, so we need six members to vote for a resolution." Patrick viewed Austin.

"I'll vote. Fire Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth." Super vice president of operations for Charity Healthcare System George Washington Dunning did not stand but smiled to Austin.

"Fired." A third superman smiled to Austin.

"Fired." A fourth superwoman smirked to Austin.

"Fired." A fifth superman smiled to Austin.

"Fired." A sixth superman smirked to Austin.

"Fired." A seventh superwoman smiled to Austin.

"Seven votes for firing. You got your referendum. The final outcome for you, Sawyer, Gage, and Mangrove, you're all off the Charity board effective, now." Jefferson sneered at Austin.

Patrick soured, flinging both his hands. "We need a full board approval for a sixteen percent elimination of that many members."

"We voted. Our decision's final." Jefferson nodded to each Charity supermen and women, grinning.

"This affair has been a great pleasure, gentlemen." Austin slightly bowed and quietly exited Jefferson's office. He never lost his temper or ever lost his dignity, and continued his desire to help the lives of loved ones or strange ones. His dad had taught his son those precious traits.

Austin loved, adored, and admired his father, the former CEO of Quartet Company. Dad was Austin's hero, teaching honor, power of strength, and need for justice. The justice included others, not just one's family and friends, including all the lost innocent souls at every Charity Hospital which had been betrayed by a group of bad men like super president Jefferson Brandt.

"Wow, three for three, I'm still employed. Phew!" Superman number three chuckled to Jefferson.

Jefferson flung a hand into the air with a sour frown, "Shut up, asshole. Get these media reporters off our nursing floors, now."

The supermen and women stood and exited the office.

9:09 a.m.

City of South Miami (three miles west of Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Rachel Roach

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Each police officer wore a set of business suits, slowly marching from the shared non-marked police department assigned sedan and up the sidewalk, surveying the grass, the street, the house, and the sky with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of tan, stopping on the front porch with a stern face. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion, wearing a gray suit with a pair of low heels.

The uniform police officer of South Miami police department stood in front of the open archway with a nod and a stern face, "Please enter, detectives. Nothing has been touched. The photographs had been snapped. After your examination, the forensic team will tear the house apart, looking for answers to the cold-blood murdered. Here, the new laptop contains all her most updated background information from the police computer database and other databases throughout Florida." he extended the machine to Loree.

"Thank you, officer," Loree accepted and cuddled the laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a stern face, scanning the room.

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, moving with Loree into the living room. The room was rectangle shaped with a side wall of windows. A nice living room set of furniture was scattered around the walls and near the wall of windows with the usual entertainment items, such as, a plasma television, a stereo system, potted flowers, magazines, and books. She stopped and stared with a puzzled brow at the oversized sitting chair with the female. "The female is clearly blue colored and dead. However, she is sitting upright on her ass and posed like she is talking with someone inside the chair. This is really weird. So there should be plenty of fingerprints from the killer, since the killer had to pose and adjust her dead body like that inside the sitting chair. What do you think, Loree?"

He laughed. "This is indeed odd. But this is Miami, a hotter day of murder." Loree lifted and tapped on the laptop with a stern face. "She is Rachel Roach. She owns this house at 57th Avenue and 73rd Street. She is only a few blocks away from Charity South Miami Hospital but she works downtown at a bank as loan officer. She wasn't associated with the hospital."

"She looks dead less than twenty-four hours that means last night after dinner or so. But the forensic team can verify the death information. So she was murdered last night. I don't see any forced entrance, such like, a broken window or busted down door, either." Hardy frowned.

Loree laughed. "Probably, an angry boyfriend, it's always the murderer with the front door key inside the back of his Bermuda shorts. She owns a car that's parked inside the garage. She lives alone, not married. She is twenty-seven years old. She has a bachelor's degree in finance from Miami-Dade University. Her parents live in the Kendall area. Not much else, she listed on her job application that she enjoyed scrub diving and horse races."

Hardy nodded with a hum, scanning the room. "Horse racing could be an angle to explore, if she liked to gamble. The house is very nicely decorated like she had won numerous pots of cash money from her betting habit on the ponies. A gambler that didn't pay back her debts, yeah, we solved this one quickly, Loree. I don't see anything else that we need to examine. Do you, Loree?"

Loree back stepped and sat his ass down on top of the low table, scattering some of the glamour magazines, typing with a smile into the laptop. "There, I have inputted all of our observations, assumptions, and recommendations for a couple of the junior detectives to investigate and follow up on with the bank, the parents, and the bookies of the horse races. This group of newbie officers is doing a good job, so we can enjoy the morning. Let's go and get some hot coffee and a tray of donuts while we wait on the official report, coming around lunchtime." He stood with a nod and a smile, moving ahead the uniform police officer. "Here, we finished our examination and loaded the laptop with our observations. You can take this to the detective pool, please, for further analysis."

Hardy moved and pulled up beside her partner Loree with a stern face and a nod. "You can bring inside the forensic team to dust the place for prints."

"Yes, ma'am," the police officer motioned with a hand and a nod to the team members. A new team wore a set of PPE in the color of yellow, entering the room, scattering around the furniture.

Hardy and Loree exited from the house and stood on the front porch. Hardy exhaled with a puff of work. "Who else was murdered this morning? Who is the next stop on our long list of dead people?"

Loree reached and pulled out his mobile telephone, scanning the work assignment.

Inside the living room, "Detectives, could you come back into the room? I have a question."

Hardy and Loree turned with a puzzled brow, moving back into the house again and stopped beside the oversized chair. Hardy frowned at the forensic leader, "Yes, what is your question?"

The forensic leader pointed down at the object with a confused brow. "Did you see the mirror?"

Hardy frowned. "It is a mirror."

"The mirror was inside her hand."

Hardy exhaled. "She was brushing her hair. Look between her leg and the side of the chair, there is a hair brush. It fell down during the attack. She was using the mirror to brush her hair when she was killed."

The forensic leader nodded with a stern face to Hardy. "Yes, I concluded that, too. Do you find it weird that she was brushing her hair while she was being attacked?"

Loree laughed. "This is Miami, a hot sizzling place of weird-o."

Hardy exhaled. "No, I do not find it weird. The murderer was a foe that posed a friend. She was comfortable around her friend that really was a foe, since no of the windows or broken or the door isn't busted. We find the friend. We find a murderer. You, go and do your thing and find all the fingerprints of the foe. Then, we all can close this case." She swung around with a sour frown, exiting the house.

10:03 a.m.

Limousine ride on west Anastasia Avenue

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Fired on the spot, you make enemies fast." Frank smiled to Austin as they sat side by side in the rear bench of Austin's limousine.

"Part of the job, I like the most, well next to eliminating them faster," Austin smirked with a smooth cold-hearted blood-sucking baritone, vividly recalling that he killed a man with his two bare hands, right in front of witnesses.

Six years ago

Quartet legal trial

Country of Italy

Warm temperatures and mostly sunny

The witnesses were Frank, Tom, and Stu for a thwarted kidnapping gone wrong. The hostage died by the hands of the violent criminals. So Berrington flung his fury at the lone survivor of the bloody massacre, murdering his own employee of Quartet Associates.

Currently, no one discussed it, ever.

However, Austin had changed after "that" day, sorta becoming more mellow plus developing a tiny heart and a little bit of tiny compassion.

Now, since the death of his godson death, Austin's usual pleasant easy-going personality had reverted back to "that" day in Italy.

Present day and place

10:06 a.m.

Limousine ride west on Anastasia Avenue

Frank viewed Austin. "Am I sitting next to Stu or Austin? You aren't yourself, sir."

Austin viewed his hands. "I'll have to ponder that statement, Frank."

"You weren't the only trumped card, this morning." Frank chuckled.

Austin viewed the active television in the limo, "Gossip from the news? My name?"

Frank shook his skull, "No. Not us, yet. That'll be, tomorrow," viewing the television.

"The trumped were VP Khan and the director named Margo. I want you to hire Khan. With this on-going investigation, we'll need muscle."

"Stu's the muscle." Frank frowned to Austin.

"Not delicate enough."

Frank chuckled. "I can tranquilize him. He'll purr like a kitten, if need be with my stash."

Austin grinned, looking to the forward wind shield with the panel down in the limo. "I'd pay a billion to see that happen, Frank."

"We never needed muscle before, Austin."

"Wrong kind of muscle, we need PR fists to fin off the media, reporters, politicians... enemies." Austin viewed Frank.

Frank smiled, "Ah, our newest enemy, the Charity supermen and women."

"You were always the smartest brother in the band, Frank."

"Done," Frank chuckled. "Why the joy ride? Where are we going?" He viewed the blooming flowers of the residential homes on Baltimore Avenue.

"To church," Austin viewed his side bullet-proof window.

"I went on Sunday with my wife. I don't really need another sermon."

"You don't have Tom's flair for sarcasm, Frank."

"Why are we going to church, Austin?"

"I received an intriguing phone message from a priest, wanting to give us information about the killer."

"This is too easy. A confession, you received a confession from a priest. This case is going to close soon. Well, say it! Tell me! Who is the killer?"

"The priest didn't relay vital data over the telephone."

Frank chuckled. "All right, I can play the 'wait and seek' game, too. Why, me?"

"Only fourth in the office," Austin referenced each man as a fourth as the Quartet was four people of equal talent but varied skills.

"You could've been much subtler and then sweetly flattering with your tart reply, to me."

"You're not a female, Frank." Austin smirked as he had a way with women. He enjoyed women, his only hobby, making his way pleasant, delightful, and swift, but not all females were his downfall only the sweet, kind, and innocent girls.

"St. Paul's Church." Joe said via the speaker as the limousine stopped.

10:31 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (eight miles, west, from Coral Beach)

St. Paul's Catholic Church Anastasia Avenue

Austin and Frank stood in the dark hallway, watching.

He possessed flabby pale tinted skin, haunting dark eyes, and was dressed in a pair of black pants and a black shirt with a starched white collar, presenting no handshake, nodding to his guests. "Welcome, my sons. I am Father William Flanagan."

"Father," Frank nodded.

"Father," Austin said.

The priest slowly twisted his humpback body, leading Austin and Frank to a side room on the left as the room contained a wooden table, a tin pitcher of water, and four glass goblets which was surrounded by four wooden chairs. He sat at the table with Austin and Frank.

The priest took a shallow breath. "Thank you for coming. I feel this...this information is an answer truly from the Maker for the city of Miami. Let us pray. Thank you, Heavenly Father. Your rewards are vast and Your knowledge is sweet. Bless us today and forgive us our shortcomings. Amen."

"Amen." Frank repeated and stared at the priest.

"Amen." Austin repeated and stared at the priest.

The priest smiled to Frank. "Angel is a Greek word which means messenger."

Austin said with a sour frown to the priest. "This person is not an angel, Father."

The priest smiled to Austin. "A heavenly celestial being is believed to be a messenger or intermediary which is a go-between God Almighty and his creatures humans, us. In all religions modern, as well as, ancient Greek mythologies, the angels are the divine messengers sent by God to humans to instruct, inform, and command us. An angel can function, as a protective guardian, a heavenly warrior, and even as a cosmic super power."

"I never thought of angels in that light before, Father." Frank nodded.

The priest drew a vertical line in the air with his hand. "The line between a good angel and a bad angel is sometimes unclear. Hence, angels can be described, as such, persons in both flesh and blood or light of air who possess supernatural powers and word between God Almighty and the devious devil."

"Excuse me for asking, Father? Is this the church's view of point?" Frank smiled.

"No, this is mine." The priest smiled to Frank.

"Continue, Father." Frank nodded, smiling.

"The worship of God Almighty sometimes embraces the image of a council of angels, who serve Him, much as, the warrior knights served one king in the past medieval history of Earth. This belief in angels was sometimes known as the 'sons of God.' The sons represented heavenly angels, who assumed the form of human males." The priest giggled. "They were sometimes mistaken for flesh and blood men too."

Frank nodded. "I thought saints were 'real' flesh and blood men and women."

"You're correct, my son. Earth bound people, who have achieved religious epiphany, become angels in God Almighty's eyes. That is beside my point. Through the icons from the artists and the writers in ancient world history, angels acquired a set of wings and developed a wardrobe closet of formal garments, such like, white robes, big wings, and shiny halos." He giggled. "They were given formal names like Michael, Gabriel, Uriel along with the ranks of authority which was assigned by God Almighty, such as archangel, angel, or demon. In addition, the world historians had added another dimension to the entire conception of angels. These are called the destructive angels, who are rebellious against God Almighty and work only for the devil. Thus, the human struggle between good and evil is on Earth's battleground, with both the hostile and benevolent angels."

"I'm afraid I have missed the point, Father." Frank frowned.

"You have not missed my point. I am not there yet, my son." The priest grinned. "There exists a new remarkable folklore regarding angels. God Almighty has embodied one angel in particular as the mediator or referee, if you wish to keep the balance of good and evil in check as the cosmic battle continues here on Earth." He poured water from the pitcher and sipped from the tumbler.

"Mediator? Who's this mediator?" Frank frowned.

"The angel of death." The priest grinned to Frank.

"Father, that character during Halloween is depicted as a scary skeleton covered in torn black hooded robes, carrying a scythe." Austin stared with a sour frown at the priest.

"Some historians show that character as a beautiful female carrying a stone tablet and collecting names of the dead. Who is right? Who is wrong? I've never seen the angel of death, personally," the priest giggled to Austin.

"Are you telling us, Father? The angel of death is a real person living in flesh and bone, walking around Earth and zapping people to balance the struggle between good and evil, as ordered by God Almighty." Frank frowned.

The priest nodded, giggling. "Very good, you got my point, my son."

"You always were the smartest guy in the Quartet, Frank." Austin turned with a smirk to see Frank.

"I require proof." Frank fingered the ceiling which represented heaven.

"8,063 souls aren't proof enough," the priest giggled, nodding.

Frank exhaled. "That is a very big number. I was thinking in terms of evidence. I don't know biblical, spiritual, celestial, or maybe?"

"The angel of death was created by God Almighty on the first day of life dwelling in heaven. This is taken from the Book of Genesis, Chapter 36, Verse 1," the priest grinned.

"I must have missed that one during Sunday school class." Frank frowned.

"God Almighty says to the angel of death, 'Over all people have I surrendered thee, the power.' This is from the Book of Exodus, Chapter 30, Verse 18," the priest nodded.

"I must have missed that verse, too." Frank exhaled.

"The Holy Bible requires years, sometimes decades to study and to interpret, my son," the priest grinned.

"Thank you, Father." Frank nodded.

The priest viewed Austin, exhaling. "I can understand your doubts, my son. I am ninety-five years old. I am breathing the last breathes of my short days left on Earth. I have seen wonderful miracles and odd tragedies. I have witnessed healthy active people die within twenty-four hours compared to ill bed-ridden patients with terminal diseases, who had lived and suffered for many, many years, until death touches their door knob. I cannot explain it. I cannot prove it. However, I can believe it," nodding.

Frank stared at the priest. "The struggle between good and evil, where the angel of death wins every game played is truly...something." He viewed Austin.

Austin shook his skull, scooting his chair from the table.

"I have more data to share, if you wish to hear it, my son," the priest smiled.

"More data? Like what?" Frank frowned to the priest.

The priest slowly stood, moving to the wall shelf, and retrieved an old book, slowly moving back to his chair, and opened the manual. "I understand the liver is colored yellow."

"The physicians have determined the organ crystallized from a set of exceed secretion of the bilirubin which is located inside the bile section of the liver. When the body can't excrete quickly enough, it causes the patient to die within minutes. So the liver is colored yellow." Frank viewed the old book, upside down.

"Can you list the classical elements?" The priest asked, viewing the book.

Frank said. "Earth, wind, fire, and water."

The priest nodded. "Correct. Throughout Earth's history ancient philosophies have used the four elements to explain patterns in natural or supernatural settings."

Austin folded his arms, viewing the flying blue birds outside the window.

Frank nodded. "I'm listening, Father."

"From the Greek society to the Middle Ages to the Renaissance period to the oldest cultures in the world, which are the countries of India, China, and Japan, they all share the concept of the four elements," the priest read from the old book.

"I agree." Frank nodded, viewing the book.

"Hippocrates described the human body in association with the four elements phlegm (water); blood (air); black bile (Earth) and yellow bile (fire)," the priest read from the book.

Austin sounded with a moan, staring out the window.

Frank recalled that information from his college psychology textbook which was not a reference from The Holy Bible. "I don't understand, Father."

"Bile is a byproduct of the liver," the priest viewed Frank.

"Correct." Frank nodded.

"The color of each humour represents a degree of nature for a person's condition of healthy, sickness, recovery, or death," the priest read from the book.

"Yes, I remember." Frank nodded, viewing the book.

Austin wiggled side to side in the chair, making numerous squeaks on the floor.

"There is a fifth element added to the common four," the priest smiled to Frank.

"Really!?" Frank smiled.

Austin sounded with a moan, crossing his leg and stared out the window, viewing the soaring birds in the Florida sky.

"Aristotle called the fifth element aether. Aether explains the other regions of space and time which is related to the mind or outside the mind, as the case might be here. Since the stars and skies are made of different unchangeable heavenly substances. The theory states that the five stages are invisible to the human eye, but the stages are responsible for the cycles of human balance," the priest sipped the water.

"Balance? There is that matching word, again, Father." Frank nodded.

"The cycles of balance are the creation of life, the destruction of life, and the interaction, between the phases which is a cycle of imbalance," the priest read from the book.

"Imbalance!?" Frank frowned.

Austin watched the grass grow outside the church yard from the low lying window.

"The Japanese culture classifies it as void or sky or heaven. William Shakespeare referred to it as heaven in his entertainment plays. The Roman Catholic Church acknowledges a fifth element, because it supports the Christian view of Earth as temporary and Heaven as eternal," the priest read from the book.

"I'm still interested but a little confused, Father." Frank viewed Austin.

Austin viewed the church's old dry ceiling plaster, sounding with a groan.

The priest slowly stood, moving to the wall shelf again and pulled out an older leather bound manual, moving to his chair, opening and reading the text. "The Chinese philosophy categorizes the five elements into 'five goings' that affects a person's destiny."

"Destiny? You sound more like a fortune teller rather than a priest, Father." Frank chuckled.

"Maybe!?" The priest winked to Frank, grinning without teeth. Frank parted his lips. The priest said. "Does the French term déjà vu ring a bell? It is the illusion of having already experienced something actually being experienced for the first time. The French people say that you have 'already seen.'"

Frank rubbed his face with both palms and stared at the priest. "Father, are you telling us that the killer has experienced or done this before? Can't be? We uncovered the bodies a couple of days ago. The deaths are within a ten-year time frame, not before."

The priest smiled. "You do not understand, my son. This phenomenon can be traced back 2,000 years earlier from a set of ancient archives within these very walls that I have studied for years."

Austin stood as his chair rode backwards from his ass, viewing the priest. "I can accept the philosophies, the theories, and the ancient records. Tell me what are we dealing with? Who is doing this, Father?"

"The angel of death," the priest grinned to Austin.

Frank viewed the floor, exhaling.

Austin frowned. "The angel of death."

"Do you want to hear more of my speculations, my son?" The priest smiled to Austin.

Austin scooted the chair under his ass, reseating at the wooden table. "Go ahead, Father."

"The Chinese astrology is more detailed and complicated to interpret, but there are subtle tattle tale signs that guides us," the priest nodded to Austin.

"What types of tattle tale signs?" Frank viewed the old book, upside down.

"The four elements are the primary group broken into a secondary sub-group, consisting of colors, locations, seasons, and shapes," the priest fingered the old book.

"Cut to the chase, Father." Austin viewed the far wall with his excellent hearing.

The priest read from the book. "The element of fire is represented by the biological organ of the liver."

"Liver?" Frank frowned.

"The color of fire is yellow," the priest read from the book.

"Are you referencing the leaking yellow bilirubin from the liver?" Frank frowned.

The priest said. "Add, the direction is south. The emotion is joy. The animal is cat. The fruit is banana. The grain is rice. The..."

"I'm sorry, Father." Frank frowned.

The priest lifted his palm, reading from the book. "Wait. I am almost finished. Let us see. The season is summer. The life sign is youth. And the planet is Mars," he grinned to Frank.

"What do all these nouns mean, Father?" Frank frowned.

The priest frowned. "I am not an astrologist. But I have interpreted the signs for the killer as a person living in a hot southern region of the United States with a joyous personality, preferring to consume bananas and rice as a food group as opposed to the other food groups." He smiled and nodded to Frank.

Austin snorted and stared at the priest. "Really!?"

Frank parted his lips, hearing the priest's psychic prediction.

"The planet of Mars rules the calendar month of March which is represented also by the day of the week. The day belongs to Thursday from the Nordic god of thunder Thor," the priest grinned to Frank.

"If I understand your signs correctly, then the killer is based on your psychic readings here in South Florida. And he was born in the month of March on Thursday. Can you give me a year and date, Father?" Frank viewed the old book, upside down.

The priest shook his skull. "I cannot. This is all the information gathered from my reading the astrological signs. But I want to add that this person is represented by the life symbol of youth which relates to a human being young in both physical body and mind. There are always so many avenues to follow, during a reading," he grinned to Frank.

"You're making the killer seem innocent of his murders, Father." Frank frowned.

"Franklin, I am an old priest, who has spent his entire life studying documents. I do not mean to imply that I agree with my sign interpretations. I believe in God Almighty, his son Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, and all heavenly angels. I am God Almighty's massager for you," the priest slowly stood with Frank and Austin.

"Thank you for your data, Father. Goodbye." Frank extended his hand.

The priest handed a folded paper to Frank, instead of a handshake.

"Take this sheet of paper. I have summarized the signs. So use it, if you wish," the priest smiled.

"Thank you, again, Father Flanagan. We will." Frank accepted the wrinkled paper, dumping it in his jacket pocket for safe keeping.

"Farewell. Good hunting." The priest smiled.

Austin and Frank moved and left the church.

11:48 a.m.

Limousine ride east on Anastasia Avenue

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

"A psychic priest? Isn't that an oxymoron?" Frank chuckled, sliding across the bench as Joe held the door.

"Nonsense, just plain nonsense." Austin slid with a sour frown next to Frank.

"The old priest's words didn't have any useful meaning to me. It sounds like science fiction. You should've brought Tom. He could have interpreted the underlying subtle psychic hints from the elderly wise priest." Frank chuckled, shaking a skull, studying wrinkled sheet of paper. It contained a vertical list of single words that did not make any common sense.

"It sounds and smells like horse shit." Austin sneered, viewing the flowers on the passing street as the limo returned back to the office.

Frank chuckled. "Maybe?"

The unpleasant horse term from Austin referenced his great displeasure of horses, farms, and ranches anywhere in the world as Austin did not enjoy riding horses.

At the age of eight years old, Austin was tossed off a stallion into a barbed wire fence in Ocala while riding with his brothers. After that historical painful incident, Austin did not mention horses, ever.

The Quartet owned a ranch in Ocala, the home of the elegant Thoroughbred racing horses and shitty smelly cow patties. The ranch consisted of steel stables, field pastures, two race tracks, eighteen stallions, six mares, and fourteen geldings for pleasure riding and fun racing around the compound.

Both Austin and Misty shared their non-love about horses as they were beautiful animals to observe from far away. Misty loved all animals, but she avoided riding the smelly, hairy, and temperamental beasts.

Expanding the farm into a nature sanctuary was Misty's idea with her love for all kinds of animals, dogs, cats, horses, ponies, cows, pigs, chickens, hamsters, rats, snakes, lizards, lions, tigers, and bears.

O mine!

When the Quartet visited Misty Farms, Misty enjoyed petting the baby kittens and puppies and not venturing further than the wooden gazebo off the shaded patio thirty-three feet from Florida room.

The ranch was one of three hundred Thoroughbred farms in Ocala and not for breeding and selling horses, instead Misty Farms accepted all abused, abandoned, and neglected animals from puppies to panthers.

No joke!

A live and breathing Florida panther roamed one of many natural pens after recovering from an encounter with a vehicle. The vehicle did not survive, but the driver did. And the driver toted a big black unconscious panther with a couple of broken limbs from the roadside.

The driver was a loyal Ocala resident, who called the Florida wildlife authorities and they brought the injured and recuperating cat to Misty Farms. When the veterinary discovered the panther was pregnant with two growing and developing baby kittens, the local, state, and national newspapers went crazy, advertising the state-wide humanitarian event, displaying pictures of Misty on the front cover of the magazines and the newspapers.

Now, money poured into Misty Farms along with more abused animals.

Misty Marie had found her niche in life loving her animals and her husband Frank.

And Frank loved his wife. She was the perfect mate in his life as Frank could not live without his wife on Earth like Clifford could not live without his son Cliffy.

Misty Marie was tall, slim, and elegant, smelling like roses and apples every day, dressing her short colorful skirts and a pair of matching high heels, and her designer jewelry.

Real jewelry, not costume.

Frank loved Misty more than life itself and really desired a little baby girl like her. He had grown up as an only child with an extended family of non-biological brothers which consisted of Austin, Tom, and Stu.

When Misty talked about wanting a child, Frank talked too.

The Band of Brothers had agreed to get married and have children all at the same time as their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents, before them. So the unborn fifth generation children would grow, play, and live like true brothers in a real family.

However, the Quartet family plan slowly was proceeding as Austin was not married but dated and dragged to his home, tramp after tramp.

Frank had established high standards for his wife and the mother of his child, where Austin did not give a damn.

Liz was always the afterthought of Austin's latest female failure, thus Austin needed her, and Liz needed his sex and his money.

A gold digger true to form.

Austin knew it. Liz knew it. And the brothers knew it.

Austin was proclaimed to be one of the top five wealthiest bachelors in the world, commanding any girl he wanted any time he wanted and anywhere he wanted.

Frank pondered Austin's mental, social, and emotional problem within his active physical thinking brain cells.

Maybe, Austin felt guilty about the boy's death as Frank felt guilty about Cliffy's death, too.

And someone was guilty for Cliffy's death, also. And someone was going to pay dearly for taking Cliffy's innocent life, once this mysterious medical investigation was finished.

But on the surface, it seemed to be getting started.

Austin viewed the side window. "We're not chasing the angel of death. The old man is mentally sick."

"He looked very pale. I don't believe the old priest has much more time to live. Maybe, he wanted to talk to someone, before he died about his theories of the killer." Frank viewed the wrinkled paper.

"A waste of time." Austin exhaled with a huff of disappointment.

"Whom does a priest confess to Austin?" Frank viewed the rear hair roots on Austin.

"God." Austin spat.
Tuesday June 8th

7:14 a.m.

City of Homestead (28 miles south of Coral Beach)

Former US military base

8,063 body bags

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

"Looky, Charity Hospital presents the class reunion of the dead for the past ten years." Tom laughed at the visual scene like a Hollywood horror movie, standing in the archway of the former fighter jet hanger on the defunked military base, smiling and fingering the creepy exhibition.

The creepy exhibition displayed a set of vertical greenish-gray partitions and a horizontal white banner stretched across the top of the partitions which designated the selected Charity Hospital in bright yellow letters. The selected hospital represented, where each cadaver had permanently died, back then.

Right now, each cadaver had been temporarily retrieved from a re-opened grave throughout the creepy cemeteries from the south ocean side on Key West up towards posh northern Miami Springs, Florida.

"You're sick, Tom." Frank shoved Tom inside the hanger.

"I feel fine, healthy, and fit." Tom smiled and slapped his dress shirt, stumbling in the room with a giggle.

"Frank means mentally that you are a nut case, Thomas." Stu chuckled, moving next to Frank.

"Only a little, that's part of my genius." Tom smiled with a nod, moving behind Stu.

Austin slowly moved behind Stu, Frank, and Tom, parting his lips, viewing thousands upon thousands of single black bags. The black bags contained the current dead rotten former human bodies coming out fresh from their sandy graveyard plot like his night dream vision at 2:31 am from a few previous nightmares ago.

Austin needed to talk with Frank about his weird-ass dreams which made him both creepy and weird too regarding this mysterious murder investigation. And he bet that his brothers were experiencing a set of similar creepy nightmares and not voicing them.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I'm Dr. Malek Johnson, head of the CDC." He smiled to Frank as the Quartet huddled around Johnson.

Frank fingered his dress shirt. "Good morning, Dr. Johnson. I am..."

"No need for introduction, gentlemen." Johnson fingered to each fourth. "Frank, Stu, Tom, and Austin, welcome to my laboratory. Please address me as Johnson!"

"Certainly, Johnson." Frank nodded, shaking his hand.

"Welcome to my laboratory. Funny guy." Tom giggled and fingered Johnson.

"To my right, Dr. Jack Hugh will be leading the toxicologist group inside the hanger. While, Dr. Alan Ridgeway on my left is the chief biologist, who will be located inside the mobile sentinel laboratory pod outside the flight hanger, conducting all medical tests. I must say the sheer volume of corpses requiring carving today will be both labor intensive and time consuming. I appreciate all of you volunteering your important time and energy for this mysterious and special medical investigation." Johnson viewed with a smile to each face.

Frank nodded. "Thank you, Johnson. We're very interested in the final clinical results, as well as, the possibility of using all the available medical data to pursue and prosecute the killer."

"Any animals?" Tom viewed the floor, looking for creatures.

"Excuse me!" Johnson cuts his eyeballs to Tom, frowning.

He looked up to Johnson. "Are there any dead animals in the mix, today?" Tom chuckled, winking at Johnson.

Johnson exhaled and swung to the first row of black bags as Stu and Austin followed behind him.

Frank elbowed Tom, whispering into the eardrum. "You're absolutely totally mental, today, Tom." He followed behind Stu and Austin.

"Jealous, I see." Tom sniggered, moving behind Frank.

The young pimple-faced Florida national guard stepped in front of Frank, fingering the side wall with a nod. "Please change into the gear over there."

Tom strolled behind Frank to the long table with the paper clothes.

Frank fingered the equipment. "PPE equipment and cover your shoes also."

"I know. I know. I watch all the fake forensics television programs." Tom dressed in a bright yellow paper gown over a brand new gray pinstriped suit jacket, donning a pair of yellow booties over his brand new grey leather tasseled shoes, and then a yellow cap on his blonde hair. He wrapped the plastic breathing mask around his throat for a set of fresh air flow. "Is this shit really necessary?"

"No! You can catch something and take it home to Janey. But she might get really miffed." Frank chuckled. "I thought you watched all the fake forensics television programs. Since personal protection gear is important when you're around bugs and germs."

"Bugs and germs, these people are dead, Frank. The only bugs they got growing, are the palmetto bugs, eating their eyes and their butt shit. I'm going to catch a palmetto bug flying up my ass in this paper gown." Tom flipped open the back of paper gown, exposing his trousers.

Frank moved to the second table which was filled with lots of shiny instruments, balloon devices, and distorted gadgets, feeling Tom stood beside him.

"Toys!" Tom reached for a medical surgery knife.

Frank grabbed and held on to Tom's naked hand. "Sterile equipment, asshole. Didn't Aunt Martha teach you not to touch private property?"

"She tried." Tom looked at the pretty sharp instruments.

"And wear your gloves, Tom." Frank dropped Tom's naked hand.

Tom held a left glove in the air, shaking the substance down to the floor, slapping the glove over his five digits. "I don't like the powder in the gloves. My hands itch."

"Wear them or you leave?" Frank stared at the table of sterile medical instruments.

"Going to report me to the boy solider in the corner, Frank?" Tom chuckled.

"I'm going to tell Austin." Frank viewed the instruments.

"You're a fucking tattle tale, Frank." Tom soured, viewing Frank's nose profile.

"I try." Frank smiled, viewing the instruments.

Tom twirled around, searching for Austin.

All medical shit was Frank's arena and Frank knew that too. Austin knew that also. And Stu and Tom knew the set of fucking-ass nasty consequences for not obeying asshole Frank. Austin would butt-kick Tom's ass off the military base, if Frank tattled as Frank was too damn serious about his shitting hobbies of accounting and medicine.

From working too hard at Charity Coral Gables Hospital, Frank had to empty bed pans filled with pee, draw shit from stinky assholes, and other butt-fucking nasty stuff required by a medical intern, during their medical internship, at their medical intern hospital.

Tom did not give a rat's ass about Frank, only his own shit, the legal stuff in the courtroom, where Tom was the emperor of the universe. No one could touch or command him there. Tom was the head lawyer of Quartet Associates and the top legal cat having traveled the world, protecting and defending the Quartet clients, which were some of the sleazy bastards on the planet, as well as, the loyal and dedicated employees.

Six years ago

Quartet legal trial

Country of Italy

Warm temperatures and mostly sunny

One of the Quartet's clients, a fifteen-year-old Countess in the country of Italy was kidnapped and killed by her fucking kidnappers, when the brave Quartet Associates (QA) guards found their nest. The QA guards entered the villa, shooting to shit everyone, except one poor soul.

The Italy legal court system vowed to prosecute, convict, and hang the QA guard for the mass manslaughter of some street thugs.

Tom, Stu, Frank, and Austin all disagreed. So the Quartet jetted over the Atlantic Ocean to the murder trial.

Tom spectacularly defended the honor of the fallen beloved US solider during the evil times in the Fatherland of Italy as the Italian jury members ate from Tom's pale spidery hand. Tom won the murder trial, the case, the jury, and the judge, gaining the man's freedom, returning back home to Miami, Florida.

Austin, Tom, Stu, Frank, and the guard entered Austin's penthouse hotel suite, overlooking the Gulf of Taranto in the southern region of Italy, where Tom would never ever forget.

Austin motioned for the guard to the window and not for the ocean view either. Then Berrington yelled and cursed at the guard for fucking up, getting the young countess murdered and his other employees killed. Austin grabbed the throat of the guard, releasing his barbaric raw hate, pity, sorrow, and revengeful emotions and squeezed both his naked hands around the guy's neck muscles.

The guard's eyeballs popped. His nostrils bleed and his swollen lips parted. His breathing stopped and as, the guard slapped both hands at Austin's madman gripe on the throat.

Stu, Frank, and Tom watched and witnessed in silence.

Then the guard slumped forward with a set of two limp arms, falling forward. His eyeballs stared into outer space with a bleeding nose on Austin's jacket.

Austin jerked back both his hands with a growl from the strangled naked throat.

The guard tumbled down onto the thick carpet with a set of imprinted finger prints of Austin, around the Adam's apple.

Austin killed with a pair of two bare naked hands in cold blood.

Stu removed the dead limp body from Austin's seaside suite to a simple wooden coffin in the rear of the private jet.

No one talked flying back home to Miami.

The next day, Stu purposefully displayed an open coffin inside the Quartet warehouse on the Miami River, where everyone saw.

Everyone heard and gossiped and got the final message: Do you job, first and second, do not piss off the Old Man.

Present day and place

City of Homestead

7:18 a.m.

8,063 body bags

Tom finished a sweet surveillance of the thousands of black body bags.

All clear.

Austin and Stu were parked safely on the far rows of dead smelly bodies, talking with a masked man, who appeared like the Hollywood superhero.

Tom swung around to the table, viewing the medical devices. "What are all these things for?" He slapped the other glove on his hand, observing all the shiny instruments that Frank would not let him play with.

Frank fingered each item. "Blood pressure kits, catheters, pumps, IV kits, scalpels, sutures, angiocaths, armboards, bag valve mask devices, bandages, specimen tubes, beakers, bulb syringes, capillary tubes, chest tubes, defibrillators, dressings, endotracheal tubes, feeding tubes, laryngoscope blades, 02 monitor, nasopharyngeal airways tube, needles, oximeter finger probes, Penrose drains, suction catheters, tape, thermometers, pads, swabs, wipes, scissors, forceps, hemostats, probes, sponges..."

"Bed pan." Tom fingered the item, laughing.

Frank nodded. "Correct, Tom. I'll make a medical doctor out of you, yet."

"Don't bother. I like being a lawyer." Tom viewed a shiny sharp and wrapped surgical instruments that he really wanted to touch and wore a pair of sterile gloves, not seeing Frank leave and go bug Austin.

"ECG monitors and strips, drainage bags, nerve stimulator ball electrodes..."

"Have smartass physicians found ways to raise the dead?"

"The equipment's for the living. But the physicians want all supplies on hand, in case of a..."

"Emergency, what emergency?" Tom viewed Frank's nose profile. "Ya only mentioned bugs, Frank?"

"Discovery, Tom, a new discovery." Frank chuckled.

The microphone sound with a squeak and a male timber. "Please take a chair. We're beginning."

Frank led the Quartet to the last row of chairs.

Tom sat on the end chair, stretching out his long legs. Austin and Stu shifted their asses between Frank and Tom into the middle seats of the last row without any more medical personnel.

Tom wiggled his mobile telephone out from a jacket pocket, checking his messages and his texts.

Austin softly talked on Stu's mobile telephone.

Stu happily typed on his wireless laptop which was balanced on top of his two kneecaps.

Frank paid attention to the real live horror show, because he was paid to pay attention.

Tom giggled like a girl with the entertaining event.

Johnson stood on the platform stage with a microphone as the banners identifying all the different Charity Hospitals flew in the wind above his surgery cap. He said. "Welcome, gentlemen and ladies. I would like to explain an autopsy for our guests. An autopsy is the medical examination of a dead human body, including the internal organs to determine the cause of death..."

Tom zoned out the wordy lecture, studying his mobile telephone, canceling the trip to the Virgin Islands, this week.

Punch. Delete. Beep.

Then Tom canceled the Fiji Island trip, next week.

Punch. Delete. Beep.

He enjoyed interacting his professional and his personal meetings on his mobile phone rather than downloading the canned computer programs from Stu's computer.

Tom did not really need his mobile phone, using his super-duper photographic brain cells to recall, to record, and to remember his every appointment, his every trip, and his every meeting for the past, present, and future six months as he chuckled.

Stu kicked his leather into Tom's shin, making a grunt.

Tom scooted away from Gage to the open space of the hanger.

Austin had gone ballistic like a heat seeking missile with the bad shitty news of the dead and burned to a toasty crisp Burton Family unit. Then Austin canceled all the QA professional and personal trips around the world. Because, Clifford and Austin had shared their shitty baby diaper stories in their secret law club, during their school days at Miami-Dade University School of Law. And both young boys would one day become the chief executive officer of their dad's old company.

Seven years ago

University Miami-Dade School of Law

City of Miami

Austin Berrington, Junior was the CEO of the business company, Quartet Brothers. Years later, Austin Berrington, the third became the CEO of the business company, Quartet Company.

Presently, Austin Berrington, the fourth was the CEO of Quartet Associates.

Before retirement to the Palm Beach, Florida, Thomas Edison Sawyer, Junior had nursed, nurtured, and nagged Tom around his professional office meetings, at his courtroom cases, and in his client introductions. Some of his dad's legal meetings were not pleasant as Sawyer, Junior wasn't a pleasant man either.

His dad was a kind and gentle husband and a firm and open minded father, but a rouge bull in the china dishes as a business partner among the third generation Quartet.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, Junior was an agricultural shitting Grade-A plus, plus asshole, who also required his biological namesake to became the same kind of man in both law and life.

Tom was not really an asshole having learned the deadly tricks of his law trade swiftly at the young and tender age of twenty-one and guided by his dad's deep wisdom and massive legal experience. Tom had applied his know-how legal logic and law justice making Quartet Associates billions of dollars per year in profit as the head attorney, Tom's destiny.

The fairy tale ended there.

Tom had discovered really fast that there really did exist a set of good guys and bad guys like in the Hollywood fictional movies films that lived in the real world.

Present day and place

City of Homestead

7:32 a.m.

8,063 body bags

Tom looked up with a sour frown to see Johnson, who was dressed up like a bandit. Johnson was dancing sideways on top of the platform stage with a hand held microphone.

Then Tom mentally pondered the upcoming legal proceedings.

However, the Quartet could not find the gawd damn murderer with one shitty ass clue that had been left by the cold-blooded killer. Once the Quartet found the killer, a second list of legal steps automatically clicked like a second hand of seconds on his expensive designer watch inside Tom's sharp law mind, such as, the arrest, the bill of attainder, the extradition, the bail, an inquisition, an arraignment, an indictment, the plea, and the peremptory plea.

However, the plea bargain concept would not be used.

Then, there was the pre-trial, the trial, the defense case, the prosecutor case, the testimony, and the eye witnesses, where each one was dead and not buried. The physical evidence came from 8,063 exhumed shitty graves. There would be numerous weeks of courtroom time, the verdict, and the punishment of death that would be inside the Florida gas chamber in the capital of Tallahassee. Then, maybe, an appeal, if the Miami-Dade County Prosecution team fucked up the murder trial.

Tom exhaled, pondering the end of the murder case, soonest. "Damn," Tom whispered, missing the upcoming annual Science Fiction American Convention in July in California.

He and Jane traveled every year with the other sci-fi fans from around the world and dressed in their matching "alien" costume and makeup. However, Tom knew that Jane enjoyed her time with her husband not a staged sci-fi exhibition show.

Jane was not a true sci-fi fan but loved her sci-fi man.

Tom smiled with delight of happiness, because he loved her too. They were the perfect Quartet match, so next year the perfect couple of the Quartet would attend the sci-fi event.

He pressed the button on his mobile telephone.

Punch. Delete. Beep.

Tom couldn't leave the murder investigation, because Austin had volunteered his free legal services to the Miami-Dade district attorney for the upcoming murder trial. However, the Miami police had not found a blood clue or a human suspect or a piece of chewing gum on this guy.

Tom continued to read the future Quartet vacation trips on his mobile phone which had been canceled per Berrington and continued to delete the trip and clear his calendar with free time.

Switzerland in August.

Punch. Delete. Beep.

Africa in September.

Punch. Delete. Beep.

Paris in October.

Punch. Delete. Beep.

"Tom." Stu invaded Tom's nose profile, viewing Tom's mobile phone.

"Yo?" Tom punched the button.

"Ya asleep?" Stu chuckled.

"Yeah!" Tom grinned.

"We get to see more gross stuff, bro." Stu chuckled.

"What fucking gross stuff?" Tom tapped the button.

"More yellow livers." Stu smiled.

"Don't care. Don't get sick from dead bodies with yellow livers. Don't find yellow livers gross. When's lunch?" Tom said, punching more button and deleting the planned trips.

Stu laughed as Frank leaned out and swung to Tom, wearing an annoyed frowning from the loud racket of his two brothers.

"If there aren't any more questions from the audience, we will begin." Johnson nodded.

Tom stood with Stu, Austin, and Frank.

Franks motioned forward to the first vertical row of the zipped black body bags.

The Florida national guard men and women who carried rifles, moved from the black body bags and exited through the hanger doors, patrolling inside the hanger, outside near the parked cars, and around the mobile laboratory vehicle for trouble.

One of the side walls inside the hanger held numerous long tables of yellow paper disposable personal protection equipment (PPE) gear.

The other side wall displayed numerous long tables of sterile and wrapped surgery equipment. And the forward wall housed the raised platform.

The rest of hanger floor space held vertical rows of zipped black bags, the dead bodies of former sick patients which were both adults and children. Once upon a time, numerous alive breathing fleshy and blood humans lived on the oncology, hematology, and HIV nursing wards throughout all of the Charity Hospitals which were located from the blue ocean city of Key West up to the posh city of Miami Springs.

The black bags totaled 8,063.

"You're going to be the single witnesses for the organ color. Behind me, the pathologists are performing the visual inspections, gathering samples, sending out to the mobile lab vehicle which is parked outside this military complex. I need one witness here please." Johnson pointed to the first black bag on the first row as the black body bag lounged on top of a long eating table without the sitting chairs, the food plates, and the eating diners.

"I volunteer, Tom Sawyer." He stepped forward standing in front of the first body bag, chuckling to Johnson. "Do I get a clip board?"

"Dr. James Lindsey, the pathologist." Johnson pointed to the physician, saying. "This is a visual scan with your naked eyes, Mr. Sawyer." Then he swung around, moving to the second vertical row of body bags.

"Can I, at least, have some chalk, please?" Tom chuckled.

Austin smirked. Stu laughed. Frank said with a soft moan as the rest of the Quartet followed behind Johnson to their assigned body bag row.

Tom yelled at the smartass physician. "How about some pink strawberry bubble gum, dude?"

"Have fun, bro." Stu chuckled, slapped Tom on the collar bone, and trailed behind Frank and Austin

Tom giggled like a girl. "Touchy, today. Ain't we?" He stared at James Lindsey, MD, the pathologist, who stood on the opposite side of the first body bag.

"Are you ready for the sawing, Tom?" The pathologist grinned at the bag.

"Do it, man!" Tom nodded, grinning too.

The pathologist unzipped the bag.

Tom grabbed the plastic nose of the mask as a short whiff of a nausea gut retching ass-kicking stinky odor overwhelmed Tom's nostrils. Even with highly protective plastic covered breathing apparatus, Tom smelled the stink of death, viewing the exposed black corpse. "Jeezus Christ, can I get an oxygen mask?"

"No," the pathologist viewed the black corpse.

"How about a shot of bourbon, man?" Tom held both his gloved hands over his mask, damping the awful smell.

"No," the pathologist pressed a button on the small sized chain saw, hearing the buzz sound. He tested the chained blade rotation in the air and laid the sharp knife on top of the naked female's rotten black skin, below her huge breasts.

The combined particles of dark midnight, bright pink, and crimson red skin bone and body tissue sailed up to the ceiling as the nasty body snowflakes slowly floated back down, landing on Tom and his paper skull cap, his gown, and one of his gloves.

Tom back stepped from the shitty bombardment of flying flesh, bone parts, and rotten body debris, covering his face with his gloved hands. "Holy fucking shit..."

"Five more seconds," the pathologist sawed and stopped.

Silence.

The pathologist stared at his body handwork. Using a set of steel forceps, he peeled back the remaining black skin from her abdomen area, revealing the liver organ, saying with a sour frown behind his mask. "I be damned. Look at that."

Tom moved to the dead girl, staring at a bright yellow twinkling starry liver that was winking at him from underneath the bright heated overhead lights in the flight hanger.

The pathologist waved an arm. "Yellow." He scraped a few shiny crystals from her liver and placed them in a plastic bag, and wrote in a black marker on the clear bag the color, yellow.

A national guard jogged to him and retrieves the sealed and labeled bag, swinging around and jogging out the archway of hanger where he dropped the sample at the outside mobile laboratory vehicle in the hanger's parking lot.

The pathologist zipped up the first body bag, lifting his chain saw, moving his two yellow booties to the next black body bag.

Tom side stepped to the second unzipped body bag, saying with a moan. "This is going to be a fucking long day."

1:11 p.m.

8,063 dead bodies

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

After five-hours and fifty-eight minutes, the pathologist had the sawing sequence down pat.

Two seconds, unzip the body bag. Eight seconds, saw the decomposing flesh from the dead body. Two seconds, scrape three tiny crystals from the liver. Two seconds, zip the plastic sandwich bag. Then, one second, hand the plastic labeled bag to the guard. A total of fifteen seconds, flat.

Each body hack averaged fifteen seconds, allowing the pathologist to cover four bodies per minute, 240 bodies per hour, and sawing 1,344 bodies in less than five hours and fifty-eight minutes. When you added all the rows which was witnessed by Austin, Stu, Frank, one Charity Hospital representative, and one FBI special agent, the physicians had finished, carved, and inspected all 8,063 dead smelly rotten bodies under a six-hour time limit.

"Thank you. We're finished and awaiting the final lab tests." Johnson stood on the stage again, saying via the microphone.

"Lunch?" Tom stood in the Quartet huddle near the chairs.

"No," Austin shook his skull, standing beside Frank.

"You can eat." Stu turned with a sour frown and a sour stomach to see Tom.

Tom nodded, rubbing his belly and as his eyeballs searched for food items that alive and breathing humans use.

"I pass." Frank read the first preliminary exhumed body laboratory result on the bright puke green paper from Johnson.

"I'm starving." Tom looked around the food tables.

Frank thumbed behind his collar bone. "The refreshment table's outside. Knock yourself out, Tom."

"Later, gator!" Tom jogged on his yellow booties to the archway and stopped, discarding the nasty bloody gown, the gloves, and other gear in a big trash receptacle at the doorway.

"That man can eat anywhere, anytime, and anyhow." Stu shook his bald skull, watching Sawyer undress.

"Lawyers! They have no souls, Stu." Frank turned with a smirk to see Tom, discarding the dirty clothes.

Then, Tom swung around to see the Quartet, waving an arm, yelling out loud. "Heard that!" He disappeared out the archway and in the bright sunlight.

Stu dropped his mouth, pointing the empty space. "How did he?"

Frank looked at the report, chuckling. "His bionic ears..."

Stu frowned to Frank. "What bionic ears, Frank?"

"Tom anticipates our remarks just like a spider." Austin smirked, staring out the archway too.

Johnson joined the huddle around the Quartet, reading a new stack of lab papers.

Frank leaned over and read the new report between Johnson's hands. "Is that the final lab report?"

Johnson read the report. "The final chemistry result details the following a crystallization of fluid which is composed of constituted molecules which are packed in a regularly ordered repeating pattern that extends in two spatial dimensions both length and wide."

"What kind of fluids?" Frank frowned.

Johnson read the report. "The mysterious fluid cools so rapidly that the molecules cannot travel out of the liver into the excretion gland. Therefore, the molecules lose mobility and solidify to the liver organ."

"The mysterious fluid cools so rapidly? This mysterious process means that the fluid is heated first like a fire. The average body temperature of a human is 98.6 degrees. What in the world would cause the interior body fluids of a healthy or sickly human to increase their temperature heat to over 98.6 degrees or higher?" Frank looked up to see the hair roots on Johnson.

Tom joined the huddle, cramming an ugly hotdog which was dripping with yellow mustard, red ketchup, white onions, and green relish in his pink lips, down his jaw line, on his new yellow gown. Then the condiments landed, splattered, and flattened on the concrete floor. Tom held four more ugly hotdogs in his other pale spidery hand.

"Eat outside, Tom." Frank read the lab report not looking at Tom but hearing his food grunts.

"I wouldn't bring food into this contaminated area, sir." Johnson viewed Tom's food.

"I...hu...er." Tom mouth spat as his food fell downward on his yellow gown and splattered on his yellow booties instead of the floor.

Johnson read the report. "Interesting, this particular lab test exclusively examined the yellow pigment color. Incredible, the coating resists aging, acid, weathering, biodegradation, and a range of chemical solvents."

"No, shit." Frank parted his lips, reading the report.

"The mysterious material went through a microscopic analysis, where the liver's ingredients are believed to be an extract from an agricultural source which comes from some type of plant. Tree resin? Or maybe a toxin poison?" Johnson read the report.

"Did it name the type of tree?" Frank viewed the hair roots on Johnson.

Johnson shook his skull, reading the report. "Not identified here, any guesses, Frank?" He looked up to see Frank. Mangrove shook his skull. Johnson exhaled. "I'd say a toxic poison without any further testing. But what degree?"

"Is it bacterium, plant, cell or organ?" Frank viewed and said to Johnson.

Tom chuckled, spitting more food particles. "Get it. Got it. Go. Then I'm supposed to response. Its animal, vegetable or mineral..."

"Shut up, Tom." Stu slapped Tom on the rear of the skull, saying with a brotherly tone.

"Ouch! That hurt, Stu." Tom mouth spat more of his food, turning with chewing lips to see Stu.

Stu whispered to Tom. "Supposed too," chuckling.

Johnson nodded. "Make an educated guess, Frank?"

Tom viewed Frank. "You don't need to guess, stupid. The organ is the liver, smartass medical doctors." Then he back paddled, avoiding Stu's second hand slap, mouth spitting more of his chewed food with a laugh.

"The source of the poison not the affected organ, Tom. Be quiet!" Frank said with a sour frown to Sawyer.

"I'm just trying to help." Tom crammed a third hotdog, spilling the sticky contents on the floor also.

"You're not. Eat outside. You're making a mess, Tom." Frank said with a sour frown and a matching sour tone.

Tom chewed with his mouth open, listening to the medical shit.

Three other pathologists huddled around the Quartet also.

Johnson received and read a new report from one of the pathologists. "The liver is responsible for protein metabolism, producing the coagulation factors of fibrinogen and prothrombin, the proteins C and S, and antithrombin." He viewed the pathologist on his right. "Double check for any of these molecules, Alan?"

"Got it, Johnson." Alan nodded, writing the order in his paper notebook.

Johnson looked to each face. "The liver breaks down the hemoglobin creating metabolites that are added to bile as pigment. The color of bile pigment should be yellow inside the liver as well. Double check for..."

"The liver is yellow. Gawd, I just told ya'll that damn datum." Tom laughed at the dumb smartass physicians.

Frank sneered to Sawyer. "Tom, please leave for the fresh outdoors of sunshine as you finish your lunch meal."

Tom chewed with his mouth opens, shaking his bangs. "No thanks, Frank. I'm really needed here, man. What's next, smartass physicians?"

Johnson views Frank. "The liver breaks down any and all toxic substances, inside a human body. However, some of post-morbid bodies had been bombarded with different types of chemical medications, from IV infusions and harsh oncology drugs. They were the cancer patients, in their final stage of life, pumped full of drugs. The process is called, drug metabolism. This, sometimes, results in a high toxication inside the liver, when the metabolite is more toxic than its precursor. The liver converts the ammonia to urea. Check for urea levels, Alan?"

"Got it, Johnson." Alan nodded, writing the order.

Johnson viewed Frank. "The liver stores a multitude of substances including glucose, vitamin B12, iron, and copper. Check for high levels of Vitamin A, as well, Alan?"

"Got it, Johnson." Alan nodded, writing.

Frank said. "On the children and teenagers, please check for retinol. Since the water-miscible emulsified and solid forms of retinol supplements are more toxic than the oil-based preparations."

Johnson nodded. "Good point, Frank." He looked to each face. "If a lesion is present, then the liver is capable of repairing itself, indicating that this damaged organ can regenerate itself spontaneously into a healthy liver in the case of heavy toxic lesions. I have not seen any lesion cases in a couple of standard years. And the Charity physicians triple checked for any liver donors within the dead bodies that might have provided a damaged liver to one of the poor victims. So we rule out any causes of lesion disease. Secondly, all the patients were located within the HIV or oncology units waiting for death. The liver is responsible for the entire immunological effect within the human body, since the reticuloendothelial system of the liver contains many types of immunologically active cells that carry many more antigens to their portal systems. Check, if any antigens traveled to the colon, both sets of intestines, or the anal region..."

"Ya mean his asshole," chuckled Tom, cleaning his mouth with the napkin from eating.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank said with a sour smirk.

Tom waved his hand, smiling. "Get it. Got it. Go. Did he shit the poisons out of his ass, before he croaked?" He laughed. "That's a slick trick, Frank."

Austin frowned. Stu laughed. Frank stared at Tom.

Johnson did not smile tot Tom. "Sir, your medical protocol is correct, but I could do without the crude graphic imagery."

"Thanks, man." Tom nodded, grinning for the nice comment from the smartass physician.

Frank exhaled. "Tom, Dr. Johnson is asking very kindly for you to shut the fuck up."

Stu moved closer to Tom.

Tom nodded, grinning, "I'm just..."

Stu slapped Tom on the collar bone, "Tom."

Tom slid away from Stu's collision. "Hey, Big Man. Get the fuck off of me. You're wrinkling my yellow paper gown, son."

Stu almost kissed Tom on the earlobe. "I'm hungry now. Show me the food, Thomas."

"Let go, man. I wanna hear this fucking good shit." Tom struggled from Stu's gripe.

Stu dragged Tom from the medical chat to the food table which is outside in the bright Florida sunshine.

Tom yelled, batting his hands on Gage. "Stu, Stuart, let me go now..."

They moved and left the hanger.

Johnson looked to each face. "The liver produces albumin which is the major osmolar component of blood serum. Currently, within the medical field, there is not any type of man-man artificial organ or a device capable of emulating all the God-given functions of the human liver. If the patient does not receive a kidney dialysis, then the patient will certainly expire from a liver failure. The Charity Hospital pathologist did a screening job and triple checking for a liver disease in these dying patients. A liver infection is always caused by an increase of toxicity levels that the body cannot handle or excrete. Toxicity is affected by different factors. One factor is the pathway of different administrations by the skin or the mouth or the nose which can be ingested, inhaled, or injected. Ladies and gentlemen, we are left with many more questions than answers. I wonder about the exposure time measurement. Was it a brief encounter or a long-term effect? Was it administrated over a period of days, weeks, months, or possibly years? Was the number of exposures a single dose or a series of multiple doses over that same time period?"

Frank recalled Cliffy's medical chart, saying with a nod to Johnson. "Cliffy was in the hospital less than twenty-four hours. I would theorize based on the very limited medical facts, a brief counter with one single dose."

Johnson nodded. "Good guess, Frank." He looked to each face. "The physical form of toxin can be solid, liquid, or gas. I go with a liquid as a gas is recognizable to the sense of smell, and a solid is a hardy particle to consume, inhale or inject. Second, the genetic makeup of a person's overall health was very poor, concerning all the victims were housed on the hospice, oncology, or HIV nursing wards for both peds and adults. Dr. Meitner, who is the CMO of the Charity Healthcare System, has verified all the medical information that I have discussed and presented here. So, the killer had selected the weak and dying victims with a compromised immunology system to cover his biological foot tracks, so to speak. So, I feel making an identification of this mysterious toxic substance within each victim is very easy to hide plus difficult to find. Or I would say almost impossible to diagnosis the toxic without a thorough medical autopsy of each patient. Hospice and HIV patients of all ages were dying within a set of finite numbered days, since their biological body presentations were in different morbital stages. This killer is smart. If young Burton had not been on the wrong nursing floor, then we would not have discovered all 8,063 bodies."

Alan viewed Johnson. "In the Ebola string, humans, chimpanzees, and gorillas die of shock, when the virus attacks both the capillaries and blood vessel linings, draining the body of blood like a vampire bat. Maybe, we have a newly undiscovered string of Ebola that attacks a single organ the liver not the entire healthy respiratory system."

Johnson shook his skull. "I'm more inclined to lean to a single or many toxin administrations in the victim's body by a person, not a bacterium. There is no presentation of fever, coughing, swelling, blood, discoloring. And there is no struggle."

"What struggle?" Austin parted his lips.

Johnson nodded to Gage. "Stu mentioned to me that he noted there were no visible marks on the dead bodies as I did. I examined recently the decreased elderly grandmother, who had passed last Wednesday night. If the patient suddenly becomes seriously ill, lying in a private hospital bed with a nurse standing six feet away inside a nurse station monitoring the vital signs on the certified hospital equipment, then the patient or the nurse would immediately notify the emergency staff of the life-threatening symptom. My understanding, none of the victims signaled for an emergency help during their medical distress which eventually led to a quiet death."

Austin said. "A law of court is going to ask for proof."

Johnson nodded to Austin. "8,063 body bags are not proof enough of murder, Austin? Based on the numerous dead bodies and the similar lab tests produced by the dead bodies' own yellow crystallized livers, my official medical opinion concludes that a person or persons are responsible for a rapid action biological or chemical or radiated catalyst that was injected, swallowed or absorbed immediately in an immune compromised body killing the patient, so fast, that the victim does not have time to react."

"Shit fire." Frank viewed Austin.

Austin viewed Stu. "Damn it to hell."

Alan viewed Johnson, saying. "I read a new Ugandan Ebola strain kills patients by inducing a high fever without much loss of blood. These victims didn't experience blood or fluid lost as well..."

"This isn't a newly discovered clinical stain of Ebola. The medical research shows that an Ebola patient takes days, even weeks to die with their proven documented and recorded diagnose symptoms. This murder? Murderer? Mass murderer?" He viewed the floor, staring at the ketchup left by Tom and looked with a sour frown to see Austin.

Austin said. "Serial killing mass murderer?"

Johnson nodded. "I concur, Austin. We have found a serial killing mass murderer that paints some type of yellow mysterious toxin over a healthy liver. This kills the victims fast...faster than any Ebola string without us discovering the sick patient, only the dead victim."

Austin viewed Frank. "Call Tom back into the auditorium! He needs to hear and read all the medical reports, statements, and conclusions. Since, he is going to be the head prosecutor on this historical cold-blooded serial killing mass murder."
Wednesday June 9th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waning moon, warm temperatures with bright stars

He was awake and viewed the alarm clock on the nightstand, reading 2:31 a.m. "What's wrong with me?" He yawned and lifted his torso from the bed, banging his naked shoulder blades on the headboard. He rubbed his tense neck muscles. Then he grabbed a paper pad and an ink pen from the nightstand, writing down the date, the time, and the new vision.

The newest dream vision showed an unfamiliar female.

He chuckled understanding that people do dream in color.

The "dream doll" had golden tanned skin underneath her cute baby blue clothes.

"I'm going fucking crazy," whispering.

He returned the pad and the pen to nightstand, yawning and twisted his torso, violently fist punching the pillow, rolling sideways, and drifted to a light sleep.

8:09 a.m.

City of South West Miami (eight miles west of Coral Beach)

Miami-Dade County Coroner

Conference room setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

"Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth," a slim elderly weather-beaten male smiled, extending his hand. "This is a great pleasure to meet your acquaintance, sir. But I wished under a set of better circumstances."

"Agreed." Austin nodded, releasing the handshake.

The male swung to an open archway, leading the Quartet in conference room number six which was displayed on the door, saying with a smirk. "Please, follow me this way to the briefing room. I am Ethan Alan Underhill, the Miami-Dade County medical coroner."

"You're a police officer," Stu skipped with a smile beside Ethan.

Ethan nodded, walking down the hallway. "I am an officer of the law, not a physician of medicine. In past law history, the coroner would collect fines and dues owed to the king's sovereign. In the year 1887, by British law, the chief duty of the coroner was to conduct a legal inquiry or inquest to determine the cause of a sudden or violent death of a legal British citizen. This is the only function that has substantially survived to present day. As in the year 1887, a British coroner had been appointed by a county or state to perform the same job as their American counterpart." Ethan was fifty-six years of old and a retired street cop who worked the downtown Miami city street police beat for many years.

Thirty years ago

Ethan Alan Underhill

City of Miami

He was promoted to the level of sergeant at around thirty years old inside the homicide division. Then Ethan received a gift from God Almighty a bundle of six million dollars before the Federal US taxes in the US State Florida lottery.

The gift allowed Ethan to retire at the age of forty-six years old, completing thirty-eight years of service on the Miami-Dade police department. Ethan, with nothing better to do, enrolled in college at Miami-Dade University and graduated with a bachelor of criminal justice. He studied more academic classes and received a master in forensic science and a law degree from the Miami-Dade University School of Law, graduating at the old age of fifty-three years old.

Bored with life and uninterested in marrying another ungrateful greedy bitch, Ethan went back to work as an assistant coroner in the Miami-Dade County at the medical coroner's office. There, he was quickly promoted to facilitate a newly created state of Florida governor investigational special committee as a temporary head medical coroner for Miami-Dade County.

Ethan's first introduction to the world of the unexplained started with a fascinating piece of police case work about fourteen years ago in a small town in Florida. He clipped, cut, and pasted each murder article, starting with one plastic three-ringed notebook, building up to a total set of ten notebooks.

The ten notebooks contained similar multiply medical mystery deaths, coming from an unexplained clinical virus from the same home town. The town was located in a small rural area of Florida, where either a medical disease or many family feuds had narrowed the blood lines down to either young children or old people.

A second unexplained and bizarre non-police case which was very interesting to Ethan was a series of multiply articles that documented many small animal deaths in the Coral Gables community.

Ethan concluded that these two incidents were too remote and too coincidental to dismiss as hard unproven criminal evidence was possibly somehow related to the new thrilling, exciting bizarre homicide case in the police boundaries of metro city Miami, Florida.

Present day and place

12:02 p.m.

Miami-Dade County coroner conference room setting

Ethan stood at the head position of table with the Miami-Dade chief of police Leo Trilling on his right. A pale faced and sharp nosed Kim Byrne, MD, a psychiatrist for Charity Healthcare System, sat between Ethan, and a hook nosed thick necked suntanned athletic Miami FBI special agent Phil Magnum.

The left side row held three state of Florida licensed psychiatrists from the capital city of Tallahassee. The right row displayed the most usual occupants at the formal business meeting, four billionaires.

Ethan patiently waited as Austin, Tom, Stu, and Frank seated.

Stu led the Quartet down a short aisle space between a dull beige wall and a worn oak table, moving six seats down from Ethan. Gage wore a traditional tailored wardrobe assembly, a pair of pleated and cuffed dark brown trousers, a matching straight jacket and a colorful dress shirt.

The shirt was pinned at the neckline with a real gemstone that clashed or complimented both his shirt and his mood. Stu did not to wear a wool suit with a wimpy bow tie or a preppy double breasted jacket with a loose hanging neck tie.

Gage was too big in body frame for these particular clothing items, standing up six feet and six inches compared to an average guy of five feet and nine inches. So Stu created his own personal clothing style.

Today, Gage had selected a dark burnt orange dress shirt with a thirteen carat Tiger's eye at the center of his Adam's apple, representing his inner flair and his burning fury of the unfolding gawd damn events that surrounded dead Cliffy. He gently sat the mug of hot green tea next to his arm, carefully pulling a portal laptop from his brown colored cloth bag.

Stu did not leave the house without his reliable and dependable computer which held his world or in this case, his universe at his daft fingertips.

Frank silently placed a paper notepad and a number two pencil center stage of his seat placement, electing no beverage of his favorite cup of hot tea any blend but green. He felt intensively quieter than usual as the vicious events from yesterday simmered inside a medically-trained brain stem regarding the numerous unaddressed questions, unclear answers, and unknown conclusions of this medical mystery mess.

Frank slowly jerked the sports jacket off both shoulders as the conference room of many bodies was heated for both his body and his neurons. He shouldered the jacket on the neck of the conference chair while exposing a baby blue cotton dress shirt with a yellow and pink stripped loose hanging loose down to the waistline.

Mangrove was six feet and one inch, same height as Tom. Frank displayed more muscle tissue, weighing in at 202 pounds with muscular leg muscles from his frequent morning jogs coupled with his curved deltoids in both chest and arms from his constant exercises of weight lifting.

Mangrove possessed a batch of red curly hair cropped closely against the skull with a pair of intense emerald green irises, and a bronze tinted complexion, compliments of his great-grandfather from the foreign country of Spain. He displayed an oval face with two sculpted cheekbones, a small forehead, a sharp chin, and an aristocratic nose like his father.

However, Frank did not dress like dear "old" dad, instead he liked the preppy image of the 1980s Miami style.

Frank would wear a pair of trousers in the colors of beige or tan which was coupled with a dark jacket of dark blue or deep maroon lamb's wool. A button down cotton dress shirt of either pink, blue, green, or yellow which was tied with a cheerful wild patterned neck tie that fell down to his waist.

A cool image Misty had cultivated for him as they dated in their college days at Miami-Dade University.

Tom nosily raked a chair from the table, sitting, wearing a brand new black pinstriped wool suit with a brand new bright green and red dotted bow tie that curled around his skinny pale neck. He dressed in a brand new white buttoned down cotton dress shirt with a pair of French cuffs that held a pair of ruby gem which were clinking around his twin wrists.

He placed a brand new black alligator briefcase on the wooden floor beside a pair of brand new black alligator leathers.

He adjusted a mini-tape recorder in front of his dress shirt for recording all the verbal documentation of the numerous vocal conversations and important comments from the result of yesterday's autopsy of the 8,063 victims of an unknown serial mass murderer killer.

Tom stood at six feet and one inches, weighing in at 180 pounds on a slim bony thin frame with a set of long legs, a short waist, and a flat pale chest. He did not exercise but reads for enjoyment numerous science fiction novels from his favored author, Ela Barlow. His skull held wispy straight blonde hair and bangs, cutting across a short forehead, highlighting a pair of pretty cornflower blue eyes. Tom possessed a tint of fair skin, a set of thin lips, and twin apple cheekbones on his slender heart shaped face.

He nosily slurped on a cup of hot steamed coffee which was filled with a heavy spoonful of pure cane sugar and tons of sweet milk.

Tom preferred dressing the part of lawyer, choosing carefully a classic suit of black, dark grey, or navy blue always with a freshly starched white cotton dress shirt which was paired with a bright playful neon colored bow tie like Sawyer, Junior.

A chip off the old block.

"Fascinating, shit!" Tom sat and sounded with a sour frown beside Frank.

Frank elbow punched on Tom's bicep.

Tom nosily stood and nosily shuttled into an empty chair beside Austin, away from Frank's elbow target range.

Austin perched like a bronze statue and observed with his eyeballs and his neurons the studious crowd. He did not travel with a briefcase, a notepad, a tape recorder, a laptop, or a mobile telephone, because Berrington did not take notes, record voices, or type key strokes on a console. He observed, watched, listened, and learned continuously. A nifty trick taught to him by his dad who was a true leader and a future visionary of the elder Quartet, which made them both rich and famous. His dad said that you could tell a man of guilt, happiness, or angry by his body language, his voice patterns, his eye movements, his finger shifts, and the cups of beverages consumed. Austin studied, watched, listened, and heeded his dad's advice on every worldly subject. This precious knowledge was not acquired in an academic room, a Sunday school class, an office board room, or a master bedroom only by observation, time, attentiveness, and experience. His dad was always right, of course, along with the three golden rules for his biological son and non-biological brothers.

No solo performance was the number one rule for his son and Austin's brothers, growing from a gang of young mischievous boys to a bunch of wild pimpled-faced teenagers, and then a team of eagerly bright college men. Today, the Quartet of four mature adults in their early thirties was always surrounded by either their biological family members and his blood brothers and their wives.

Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV was the chief executive officer of Quartet Associates, both the leader and boss. Franklin Mangrove, III was the chief financial officer of Quartet Associates as the talented CPA and the talented physician. Stuart Thant Gage, III was the chief operating officer of Quartet Associate both the engineer and the muscle. Thomas Edison Sawyer, III was the head attorney of Quartet Associates both the legal eagle and the vile jokester of the brothers.

As CEO of Quartet Associates, Austin had established three rules for his brothers. No solo performance was the number one rule. The Quartet was the sole owners and operators of a multibillion dollar international security company which was selfishly named Quartet Associates. Some wise-cracking observant people (media types, fools, and enemies) enjoyed referencing them as Quartet Assholes. Austin had found that honorific title fit, occasionally.

No brother traveled alone not even to the boring and mundane Saudi Arabia legal cases which Tom had to preside, when a Quartet client broke a national or international legal law.

Rule number two was no dynamic duos like the pair of super hero antics like Batman and Robin of the 1960s fantasy television program.

Rule number three was no trio performances which was similar to the three stooges, an old black and white comedy Hollywood program played in 1950s. The three brothers caused trouble, made trouble, and stayed in trouble from the beginning to the end of the old television show.

The current Band of Brothers attended all events, social, professional, and public together, unless they were at their private house or on a private vacation with subtlety hidden body guards. After all, Quartet Associates was a security company, where the brothers and their families came first and foremost and were guarded with the highest protection available during any type of social event.

However, Austin and his brothers could take care of themselves also without the detailed and secret bodyguards, especially after Stu's well trained and well-practiced lessons in a series of tough and rough martial arts, weapon training, self-defense, and hand to hand combat classes, sessions, and clashes. Stu did not make the body workouts fun or dainty more like daunting and exhausting. Austin had ached for days afterwards in his bones that he did not know existed after Stu's tosses, throws, and punches. However, the Band of Brothers was trained hard, long, and often to maintain their reputations of a highly profitable security company with more high unprofitable enemies.

Austin was five feet and eleven inches tall or in this case short when he was compared to his brothers. He was the shortest, oldest, and leader of the Quartet. His dad, Austin Bartholomew Berrington, III, still held that very same position in the old band like his grandfather and his great grandfather years before. Austin possessed multiple college degrees including a BS, a MBA, and a JD from Miami-Dade University. Austin sipped on the cold chocolate milk and watched the selected group of physicians, law enforcement offices, and government officials who were dressed in their warm business attire for this vitally important professional investigational police and legal meeting.

The official dress code of hot sizzling South Florida was casual.

Austin found a wool suit both hot and constricting on his muscular body as he favored his dad's physical frame with a pair of long things, a short waist, and a well-rounded chest which were filled with his muscles bulging down to his hand wrists. He weighed in at one hundred ninety pounds with black wavy hair which was parted on a left side, and a pair of silver almond shaped eyeballs on a triangular golden suntan brown face with a set of high cheekbones.

A cute cliff chin cut across all his cotton turtleneck shirts as Austin liked the turtleneck style and fit with no display of a neck tie or a tie pin or a shirt collar. He wore a turtleneck during the seasonal winter, summer, spring, and autumn, except outside when playing for fun. He replaced the turtleneck with a casual shirt or a T-shirt. He paired a dark or white turtleneck with a pair of an alternating dark or white pair of trousers with a matching or contrasting dark or white jacket. Since the casual sports jacket possesses his Ghost, the official hand pistol of Quartet Associates for shooting an enemy or any other person daring to piss him off, at the moment.

"Do we have a suspect?" Leo turned with a frown and a nod to see each face around the table, beginning the medical and legal discussion.

"No one person at this time." Psychiatrist number one nodded to Leo.

Tom chuckled. "Miss Scarlette with the laundry detergent pod inside the linen room, I suspect."

Austin leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom. "Hush, Tom!"

"Do we have a description of the killer, such as, male, female, nationality, young, old, employed, or unemployed?" Leo asked.

"Well he is not employed by any Charity Hospital, because all the hospitals are in lock-down status, since all the employees, physicians, and the other poor sick and dying hospital patients are escaping for their very healthy lives." Psychiatrist number three chuckled.

"There are numerous staff personnel changes and policy procedure modification, being immediately implemented, at the headquarters base of Charity Healthcare System." Psychiatrist number two grinned

Tom chuckled. "Leadership change, I observe."

Austin leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom, "Behave, Tom!"

"What about the results of the Homestead laboratory field tests?" Psychiatrist number one asked.

"The freak of nature lab tests, I note." Tom chuckled.

Austin leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom. "Quiet, Tom!"

"The field medical lab tests have proven beyond a shadowy doubt that the same toxic was used which is still a mystery to the CDC governmental agency. The toxin resulted in a total death of all 8,063 bodies. A yellow bilirubin pigment excreted directly from each exhumed body's liver and then solidified into a lump of yellow crystallized pus, coating around the entire single organ, only." Psychiatrist number two nodded.

Psychiatrist number one said. "No additional data. No progress."

Tom nosily stood from the chair, smiling with a nod, slapping his dress chest. "Let's go home. I'm hunger."

Austin reached up and tugged on the suit sleeve on Tom with a stern face. "Sit down, Tom!"

Tom frowned down at the black colored hair roots on Austin. "Why am I still meeting? I don't understand, Austin."

"We are all here to discuss the profile of the killer." Psychiatrist number three smiled at Tom.

Tom sat back down in the chair with a smile. "Ah!"

Austin leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom. "Pay attention, Tom!"

Tom chuckled. "Ah!"

Ethan nodded. "At this time, I would like to introduce for an in-depth discussion of the killer's character psychology profile, Dr. Anderson, Dr. Richter..."

"How about we use, Doctor A, Doctor B, Doctor C?" Tom giggled and pointed to the Florida physician across from his chair.

Austin slammed a hand on the forearm on Tom with a whisper. "Stop it, Tom!"

Tom wiggled side to side in the chair with a giggle. "Well then, how about we call 'em, Doc One, Doc Two, Doc Three...?"

Austin wrapped an arm around Tom, whispering. "Stow it, Tom!"

Ethan asked. "How many people are involved in the killing? That's the true question here which is open to discuss, comments, opinions or debate. Multiple parties? A lone star? Cooperation of the medical staffers inside each Charity hospital, maybe?"

"This person is one player in the game similar to a puzzle or a solitary card game." Psychiatrist number one smiled with a nod.

Tom grinned with a nod. "I like to play solitary."

Austin slapped a hand on Tom, whispering. "Don't, Tom!"

"A game of chance is being played here. The killer is taking a chance not being caught. He is a slime bag of psychological insecurity, regarding his personal responsibility of maintaining any type of personal relationship with a human or humans while dealing with a normal social culture or a normal personal life. He plays with a poker-like strategy of chance coupled with the illusion of luck dominating his murdering skill." Psychiatrist number two smirked with a nod.

Psychiatrist number three smiled with a nod. "This person is displaying a creative expression of art for the killings. The physical art is made from its own beauty of death, while his emotional entertainment is made for money. However, the killer is not making any physical money off the dead victims. Therefore, the killer is displaying a love of art for himself, of course."

Psychiatrist number two said with a sour frown and a matching tone. "Of course not, this game is played to amuse the players, which is us. The results amuse the public, which is them. Therefore, this person is sucking up the fulfillment and joy in his forlorning mind."

"His fucking mind?" Tom turned and chuckled at Austin.

Austin shook a skull. "No Tom!"

Psychiatrist number three nodded. "The killer has a mixture of skill, chance, and strategy, producing an aspect of reality that many people don't get to try by playing God Almighty and using death for his prime deadly tool. This is a recreational game to the killer. Recreational activities are usually undertaken for the enjoyment of a mental or a physical pleasure. In this case, both forms of recreation are presented a life as in a live god and then a death as in a dead victim. The need for this type of activity enjoyment defines a great game to the unkind killer."

Psychiatrist number one nodded. "The killing spree is a textbook classic of a highly structured activity of enjoyment for the killer, by which, the same result of total death to the unwilling participants. As children, we undertake simple tasks or games, such as, catch a ball, with both of hands. As we grow older and age in chorological years, the mental games become more complex, such as, a fast ball in the profession sports of baseball. Our mental and physical strength increases and forces us to become a strong mature adult, playing with more complex objectives. The objectives change the rules that challenges and guides the participant to an increase the perceived level of enjoyment. Therefore, the killer enjoys his new mental and physical game."

Psychiatrist number smirked with a nod. "His game is his rule and our participation is our problem. Since a primary motivation of enjoyment of a game is to perform an educational, a simulation, or a psychological role within an adult life. Any game, involving a mental and physical stimulus, generates and then provides a higher level of arousal of enjoyment, sexual arousal, of course."

Tom shook the blonde colored bangs. "Sick."

Austin leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom, "Agreed, Tom!"

"An entity with supernatural powers?" Psychiatrist number two asked.

Tom smiled and shouted out his favorite character that had been created by his favorite author Ela. The character lived an evil life within one of his science fiction novels that was Unknown Me. "Lady Starra."

Austin leaned with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom. "Not right, Tom!"

"A minister of death?" Psychiatrist number three asked.

Tom smiled and shouted out another of his favorite character villain within the same science fiction novel Unknown Me. "Lord Dirk."

Austin leaned with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom, "Enough, Tom!"

Tom turned a sour frown to the nose profile on Austin, "What did I said wrong?"

Psychiatrist number two nodded. "A love affair with death, the killer has formed a lasting relationship or friendship with all the dead bodies. Much of our understanding of the killer still remains speculative, until we catch him and bring him in for questioning, investigational interrogation, and intense research of this murdering matter."

"Assuming, he'll be brought in alive." Psychiatrist number one chuckled to Austin.

Phil stood, looking to each face. "The Federal US warrant states alive, not dead."

"Too bad!" Psychiatrist number three nodded to Austin.

Ethan patted on a stack of plastic notebooks near his arm, saying with a wicked grin to committee. "These are sixty former residents of one active and operating nursing home in a small town in Boyer, Florida. The sixty residents died of a single mysterious medical disease. The medical death certificate lists only single two words, old age as the final cause of their death."

Phil nodded, viewing the notebooks, "Excellent lead, Ethan. So I guess it's time for some involved parties to investigate these mysterious bodies for a set of yellow livers.

Ethan smiled with a nod to Phil.

"Where's Boyer, Florida?" Psychiatrist number three frowned.

Tom chuckled, "In Florida, stupido."

Austin shook a skull with a chuckle. "You win, Tom!" Frank turned and frowned at Tom in silence. Stu turned and grinned at his baby bro Tom in silence.

Ethan stood upright from the chair with a smile to see each face. "Who wants to go to Boyer, Florida?"

12:18 p.m.

Limousine ride south on Expressway 826

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Each Quartet entered one at a time into an illegally parked limo at the fire hydrate curve as Joe held the limo door for the guys. Then Joe scooted an ass in the driver's seat, driving in slow speed from the building on Brickell Avenue, heading to Coral Beach, the home for the Quartet to visit their wives and eat lunch.

Tom viewed Frank, sitting next to him on the limo bench seat, saying with a sour frown. "Who's going to pay for the trips to paradise, Mangrove?"

"We are." Austin said with a smirk to Tom, sitting next to Stu on the opposite limo bench.

Tom turned a sour frown to see Austin. "Who's going to pay for the exhumed bodies?"

"We are." Austin smirked.

"Who's going to pay the physicians?" Tom said.

"We are."

"Who's going to pay the lab tests?"

"We are."

"Who's leading the manhunt?"

"We are."

"Who's going to track the killer?"

"We are."

"Who's going to capture the killer Homo sapien?"

"We are."

"Who's going to trial the killer?"

"We are."

Tom exhaled. "Ya know this action requires time, money, energy, and personnel, Austin?"

"Listen to him, the voice of a reasonable economical thrifty saving plan." Frank chuckled.

Tom stuck his wiggling pink tongue to Frank as Stu chuckled again.

"We know." Austin said with sour frown to silly Tom.

"Someone has to take charge, explain the bizarre method of death, and stop the killings and help the victims, Thomas." Frank said with a smile and a nod.

Tom chuckled. "Running for Florida governor there, Frank?"

"Maybe!?" Frank turned with a smirk to see Austin.

Austin looked to each quartet face. "There's a war forming in the streets of Miami over these mass murders. We, the Quartet are going stop the killer, prevent the war, and save the world," He said with a smile and a nod Tom.

"Austin Berrington for president!" Tom raised his arm, laughing.

Austin nodded. "That phrase has a nice ring to it, Tom." Frank chuckled. Stu laughed.

Tom hangs his skull in his two palms, saying with a moan. "Jeezus Christ, I'm in the wrong limo."

2:21 p.m.

City of Coral Gables

QUARTET ASSOCIATES headquarter

Office of Frank

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The fourths surrounded the conference table in Frank's office on the thirty-third penthouse business floor to discuss a strategy in capturing the nicknamed angel of death.

Tom laughed, lifted and dropped his palms on the table with a thud. "Wait a minute! Repeat that for me, again. What did the old priest say, Frank?"

"The real killer is born in the month of March on Thursday." Frank re-read Father Flanagan's psychic signs coming from a priestly prediction on the wrinkled paper.

"Based on what again, Frank?" Stu grinned and typed on his laptop, annoying Frank for fun, too.

Frank nosily rattled the wrinkled paper, saying with a sour frown. "Based on his readings and his interpretations of his signs, he collected from some ancient church documents and various philosophies of the world in the basement of his church."

"Readings?" Stu chuckled, typing.

"Like psychic readings, is that what you meant to say, man?" Tom tried to view the wrinkled paper flapping in Frank's hand.

"The old priest is a fortune teller." Stu sipped his warm green tea.

Tom parted his lips, raising his palms again. "This is good. This is great. Stop!"

"Did the priest predict the end of the world or the winning team of the Super Bowl next year by chance too, Franklin?" Stu chuckled to annoy Frank, typing.

"What's great, Tom?" Austin frowned.

"No, Stuart. The priest did not mention those particular subjects." Frank viewed Stu, suspecting that his brother was not listening to the datum just acting like an asshole quartet.

"Stop! Don't say anything more. Hold up." Tom stood from his assigned chair as it scooted across the wooden flooring to the Frank's office.

"Too bad." Stu chuckled, typing.

"Why Tom?" Austin frowned to fidgeting Sawyer.

Tom pointed to the closed door. "Wait. Stop. Getting my recorder. Gotta record all of this shit. New...the newest formula for my new science fiction e-book. This shit's great. Stay. Sit. Don't move." He moved to the closed door, opening and slapping the wood against the door stop, running down to his executive office on the same penthouse business level.

"Science fiction book? What's he talking about?" Austin viewed Frank.

Stu typed, smirking. "Ya know Tom wants to write a book? He's been tossing ideas back and forth since January of various odd and strange topics of outer space and junk."

Frank viewed Austin. "Tom lives in outer space. He cannot record this, Austin. It's too risky, someone might actually over hear us discussing a priest's psychic predictions. We might end up on a morning program, or something," frowning.

Austin grinned.

Stu stopped typing and viewed to Frank, parting his lips. "Really! We'd be interviewed on national television, Frank."

"Of course, we will." Frank turned with a sour frown and a nod to see Stu.

"Quiet. He's back." Stu rushed his finger to his lips with a smile.

Tom entered the office and placed his mini tape recorder on the conference table, facing the tiny upright microphone like a coiled snake at Frank's dress shirt, adjusting the black cord and the free standing microphone. He tested the tiny knobs on the machine sounding with a squeak and a beep. He looked up with a smile and a nod to see Frank. "Okay. Ready. Shoot. Repeat all the priest's statements again, Frank."

Frank frowned as Stu dropped his fingers and started typing again with laughter.

"Stu." Austin said with leader authority.

Stu reached over and stole the recording device complete with a detachable microphone, dropping and hiding it in his computer bag, in silence. He returned back to typing on his laptop with a smile.

"Hey!" Tom frowned, watching the mini tape recorder disappear like magic.

"No recordings. No repeating. No hard evidence. What plays here, stays here. Got that, Tom." Austin said with a sour frown and stared at Tom.

"But..." Tom lifted his arms, saying with a sad pout to Austin.

"Forget it, Tom." Frank shook his skull, saying with a sour frown too.

"But..." Tom flung his arms, saying with a sad pout.

"No Tom." Stu chuckled for his shitty fun, happily typing on his laptop, annoying his baby bro.

"You guys are no fun." Tom crossed his arms, sitting and saying with a sad frown to Austin.

"We're busy, Tom." Frank said with a sour frown and a nod to Tom.

"With what?" Tom frowned to meanie Austin.

"Seems an angel from heaven is causing hell in Florida, that only the Quartet can correct," Stu chuckled, typing on his laptop.

"Right-o, Stu," Frank said with a smile and a nod to Gage.

"Wrong-o, man." Tom uncrossed his arms and wiped the table with his fingers, losing his chance of writing an award winning science fiction novel because of meanie Austin.

"What's the Quartet's next move, Austin?" Frank viewed Austin.

"We search all Charity Hospital employee records for people born, in the month of March." Austin said.

"Hold the gawd damn fucking ass cell phone. You just said that we ain't going to use the priest and his stupid psychic priestly advice." Tom narrowed his eyelids at asshole Austin.

Austin pointed to each fourth. "We are going to follow the priest's one stupid idea. Simply because, w...e, the MPD, the FBI, and all the other mixed capital letters of the alphabet haven't a single fucking clue about the gawd damn killer which answers the hellacious questions of who, how, when, where, why, and how many."

Stu stopped typing, viewing each fourth. "We know the how many parts based on un-dug accumulated gravesites and medical records, compliments of the Charity supermen and women, who by the way hate our guts along with a couple of death notes to Austin, exclusively," chuckling.

Austin smirked with delight making the entire Charity Healthcare super board members pee in their girly pink panties. Frank chuckled. Tom laughed.

Stu smiled, "8,063 and holding."

Tom said with a smile and a nod. "Wow, this shit is some great fucking ass stuff for a science fiction horror novel including the death notes. I'll become a trillionaire," he giggles and wiggled in his assigned chair. "Once I publish my new awesome award winning novel," he smiled, staring at the wall, seeing the photos of Misty Marie on Frank's wall. He viewed Frank, giggling. "Hey! Maybe, a record breaking Hollywood movie, too. I possess the rights for every legal outlet..."

"Tom." Austin viewed Sawyer. "Draft a subpoena to Charity Healthcare for all people born in the month of March for the past ten years, if Jefferson is uncooperative."

"Okay, Austin." Tom said with a nod, because Austin was the boss of the Quartet and his orders were all dated, signed, sealed, and delivered on time.

Austin said. "After analyzing the priest's psychic message, if you will, Stu, please gather all the Charity Hospital personnel records. This is the first of many steps that I'm still evaluating. We extract the killer using Charity's HR profiles. Since we all know that the killer is an employee of the Charity Hospital and then push the qualified records from a medical to a criminal legal issue, while seeking the supposed this angel of death."

"Sure, Austin." Stu nodded and obeyed the boss of the Quartet too.

Austin said. "Frank, please, contact Jace. See if he can theorize, squeeze, or make-up any additional medical data about that yellow crystallized liver that the ME or FDPH or more other mixed capital alphabets missed during the Homestead field exams."

Frank nodded and obeyed the boss of the Quartet also. "Yes, Austin."

Tom flung his arms, exhaling. "He's our private physician not a forensics expert or a lawyer, or a policeman, Austin. He's fucking useless to this murder trial of two centuries, Austin."

"He's a medical genius, who'll be discreet, available, valuable, and a very good third party observer." Austin said.

The Quartet stood from their assigned chairs, obeying Austin's commands.

6:08 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Tom guarded the archway, following the vocal orders of a man dressed in a brown uniform.

"Sign here. Aren't you the smart guy from the company looking for the killer of 8,063 souls?" The delivery courier grinned to Tom and was employed by the Charity Healthcare System human resource department.

Tom said with a nod and a chuckle. "I'm the smartest guy in the company."

Austin stood from the Liz-decorated yellow and white stripped sofa, folding his arms, clearing his throat. "Tom."

Tom turned to see miffed Austin and looked with a frown to smiling delivery courier, saying with a meek voice. "As I was staying, I'm the fourth smartest guy at our company, who's engaged in searching for the mass murderer." The delivery courier chuckled and swung to his van, leaving Coral Beach with a QA sentry escort.

Stu stood between the towers of paper folders, scanning the room, exhaling with a huff of satisfaction. "Finally, the delivery of 2,738 individual personnel files from all the Charity Hospitals throughout South Florida."

"How many?" Tom turned and moved to the first pile of HR folders nearest his leather, kicking it as the vertical pile of manila folders cascade to the flooring tile. A set of loose sheets crash into the wall as Tom giggled like a girl, moving to the next vertical tower of paper folders.

"There are 2,738," Stu said with an angry frown. "Stop it, Tom. You're making a mess."

Tom stopped, parking his hands on his brand new ostrich belt, saying with a sour frown, "Stu, I hate to mention this annoying problem, but someone forgot to tell them. W...e...we only wanted the gawd damn personnel files for the month of March, preferable born on the day of Thursday. I believe that to be a fucking ass simple request. There's too much damn paper here." He stared at the columns of HR folders.

Stu viewed the columns of HR folders too. "These files contain only the employees born within the month of March, Tom."

"Looks to me like someone included the files for Leap Year Day and April's Fool Day." Tom laughed.

"I checked, double-checked, and tripled-checked, Tom. These files are people employed within the Charity Healthcare System and who are born with the dates of March first to March thirty first." Stu retrieved one HR folder for review.

"Whatever, Stu?" Tom viewed Austin, who stared at the folders. "Jeezus Christ, Austin, ya got 2,738 plus pieces of papers sitting and shitting inside your house on the floor, on the tables, and leaning against the yellow walls, smearing the new paint job. Hey. When ya going to re-paint the Lizard-designer walls?" He laughed.

The door chimed with a ding.

"Answer the door, Tom." Stu ordered, reading the folder.

"Why, asswipe?" Tom did not move but viewed the closed front door.

Stu read the paper folder. "Because, Mr. Fourth-smartest-guy-in-the-company, you are standing in front of it."

"Fine." Tom slapped his blue jeans and swung to the door, opening and seeing a new delivery courier in a white uniform handed a beige letter sized envelope.

Tom signed the clip board and slammed the door, tearing the rear paper flap open, pulling a white sealed envelope out of the inner pouch, and ripping the right side of the envelope. Tom yanked out the folded letter, wiggling it in the air loose, silently reading the letter.

"Well," Stu looked up with a sour frown to see Tom.

"Well, what!?" Tom read the letter.

"Tom." Austin marched to Tom and snatched the exposed letter and the torn envelope from Sawyer, looking down at the outer mailing address. "From Father Flanagan, it's addressed to me." Tom giggled as Austin turned with a sour frown to see Tom. "Didn't Aunt Martha teach you to respect other people's property, Tom?"

"She tried." Tom giggled and danced away from Austin's arm span, in case a physical injury to him.

"Allow me to instruct you properly, Thomas." Stu ran around the columns of HR folders, moving to Tom with a hard intent to teach his baby bro a few quick lessons in guest manners.

"Forget it, Stu." Austin said, avoiding a sudden trip to the Charity Hospital ER department for his baby brother as Stu slowly drifted down the wall to Tom's proposed escape path.

"The priest is dead." Tom turned and moved to the opposite wall which was far away from Stu's two fighting fists.

"Thanks for the announcement, Tom." Austin read the letter.

Tom said with a giggle and a nod. "You are very much welcome, man. Thought ya wanted to know the fact, Jack." He increased his foot pace to the billiards table.

Stu stopped, watched, and snarled at Tom.

"The priest died last night. His last dying words are for me. The angel of death is one of God's angels, not the devil's." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, re-reading the letter.

"Profound shit, deep stuff." Tom reached the billiards table, saying with a grin and a giggle. "The bastard knew the Bible."

Stu shook his baldness at not catching Tom in time for the beating, exhaling with a huff of frustration, and said with a stern face. "This entire conversation is too deep for me. We're searching for a flesh and blood cold-hearted killer not some...some ghost."

Tom turned with a smile to see Stu. "Angels aren't ghosts, Stu. They're beings created by God Almighty for a higher purpose than humans to assist people on Earth especially children, elderly, animals and ..."

"Thanks Tom. I read the Bible. I attend Sunday school and church, every week. But I don't see you there, every week." Stu stared at Tom.

Tom turned and moved to the wall mount of billiards sticks. "I'm there, sitting in the back."

"You are not. I sit in the back. I didn't see you walk pass me." Stu said with a sour frown to dishonest Tom.

"Jane and I are in the balcony, some mornings." Tom jerked his favorite pool stick from the wall mount.

"I'm going to ask Janey about this too." Stu said with a sour frown to goofy Tom.

Tom swung around and stuck his tongue out at Stu, moving to the billiards table, saying with a sour frown and a matching tone. "Do it, asshole. She'll tell ya the same gawd damn thing," he lifted the rack from the cued billiards balls. "Shitting preacher's pet."

"I'm a deacon." Stu shook his baldness at Tom.

"Same thing, asswipe." Tom waved his free hand for dismissal of Stu's objection, since the pool stick occupied the other hand. He leaned into the table, breaking the huddled balls.

"Back to the files, Tom." Austin commanded to break up the verbal cat fight, before it escalated into a physical dog fight, getting his baby brother hurt temporarily, of course.

"I guess Jefferson was not uncooperative." Stu scanned the HR folder and admired Austin's hairy balls for getting his Quartet way with the current Charity Healthcare System Super President along with some new Quartet death threats. The death threats were delivered by batches of hard copies to Stu's office desk this morning, afternoon, and evening.

"He didn't have a choice." Austin looked at the letter.

"What color are ya going to paint the walls? How about lavender or black?" Tom chuckled and hit the ball, missing the pocket, and watched it dance around the green fabric.

Austin turned with a stern face to see Tom. "Back to business, Tom." He placed the letter back inside the torn envelope and moved to the book shelf, placing the letter there, and turned to see the columns of HR folders over the floor and hitting the walls.

The door opened.

Jace entered the room with a laugh, moving beside Frank, and halt, seeing the column of paper folders, turning with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Frank. "Frank, you said files of personnel records and not a Library of Congress vault."

Frank moved deeper into the room, selecting an empty spot on the sofa, and sat, looking up with a smile to Jace at the door. "If I had told you the truth, then you would not have joined me, Jace." He looked down and selected one of the paper folders, sitting back and reading the contents.

"Hey, Jace. The gang's all here." Tom dumped the pool stick on top of the billiards table and moved to Jace, extending a smile and a handshake for friendship.

"Whose party is this?" Stu moved, smiling and slapping the collar bone of Jace for friendship.

"Where do we start?" Frank grinned and read the paper folder, enjoying the brotherly atmosphere.

"East corner." Austin pointed the wall of tall columns of paper folders. "We work our way east to west, clearing out the towers of each folder with a painstakingly scrutinizing eyeball of each employee record, three separate times."

"I'm impressed." Stu turned and smiled to Austin.

"Impressed, Stu?" Austin turned and frowned to Stu.

"Austin, you're our leader. You usually shout orders from the poop deck rather than steer the boat." Frank said echoing Stu's same mental thought process about Austin's leadership change of the normal daily Quartet business tactics.

Austin narrowed his eyelids, saying with a sour frown in angry, "Circumstances change. This is personal. I haven't concentrated on any other subject matter but this case."

"I have noted." Stu turned to Frank.

"I as well..." Frank looked up and nodded to Jace.

Stu quickly caught the subtle facial gesture from Frank to Jace, and swiftly comprehended that their good friend Jace was not being invited to the party merely because of his talents as a world renowned medical researcher, a world historian, and an amateur musician.

Jace was also a trained and qualified medical psychiatrist.

Austin's short but vile vocal remark revealed a more dangerous Berrington as his sour personality was overlapping his usual easy-going style which always had a touch of a harsh social demeanor and a super-ego attitude that was changing Austin into a deadly coiled rattlesnake. When Austin heartbreakingly discovered that little Cliffy was found inside his private hospital room and was struck dead by a mysterious illness and not a minor broken leg, Austin morphed. He had lost physical weight, pleasant sleep, and a cheery disposition regarding life.

Life was over for Berrington until the killer was planted six feet underneath Austin's Coral Beach swimming pool (Note: Austin did not own a swimming pool).

Berrington's only obsession was to find Cliffy's killer and seek uncompassionate revenge and not just at that cold-blooded killer, but anybody who had remotely been associated with Cliffy's murderer, the murdering hospital. Austin's personal hit list was long which included the physicians, nurses, hospital staff members, and all executives at every single Charity Hospital within the Charity Healthcare System. His list continued with the names of the Charity super board members along with the numerous television media reporters, the police officers, the nasty lawyers, and the other miscellaneous personnel, who had interfered or delayed or pissed on Austin's old leathers in this Florida state-wide ordered murder investigation.

Austin would guarantee the success, since he had the billions, the brains, and the balls to do it.

Stu smiled to his good friend Jace, who stood up at six feet and five inches with a head of black hair, a set of brown eyes, and a nice shade of African-American glowing skin tone of his bull elephant-sized frame.

Jace enjoyed good wine, good food, and good challenges.

Frank was smart to bring Jace here tonight. If Jace got mad at Austin for his irrational behavior or odd tempered decision, then he would simply tranquilizer Berrington with one of those infamous tiny tap needles.

Jace moved and selected the first available paper folder near his kneecap, mentally pondering all the collected medical and clinical data provided by Frank during the car ride to Austin's house. He ordered as the head medical consultant on the mysterious medical murder. "I would strongly advise that we scan each photo that radiated with a tinted color of pink or yellow on the facial complexion which will be displayed on the employee's hospital picture taken during their first day of employment."

Tom raised his palm and frowned to Jace, "Hold up the fucking sign. The dead stupid priest said that a person born in March on a Thursday. Logically, we should look for all fucking people born on one gawd damn day of Thursday," he nodded and crossed his arms over his causal shirt, readying for the upcoming debate with his brilliant genius self as the head lawyer of Quartet Associates.

Frank turned and frowned to him. "I don't agree, Tom."

"We don't care about your fucking opinion, Mangrove." Tom turned and frowned to Frank.

Jace and Frank had already decided that the best method of searching the paper folders from a medical identification process for Cliffy's killer. Jace pointed the folder, looking up to each brother. "The liver is the body's garbage disposal. If a person is sick with a liver injury, then the skin tone of that person will be yellow. A sweep of the photos will be faster than calculating the days of the week, Thomas. Also we cannot rule out a high probability that the priest might be mistaken. Since, this is a, uh, priestly psychic prediction." Jace chuckled. Stu laughed. Frank grinned. Austin stared with a stern face.

Tom waved both his arms. "I disagree, totally."

Stu jabbed a finger with a sour frown to Tom. "You're out numbered, asshole. Get with the program, Tom."

Tom said. "I'll calculate the dates, running through piles number one and number two, right here near my foot. Then, we shall see who finishes first," then he reached and jerked the top paper folder from the tower of paper.

Stu jabbed a finger with a sour frown at the paper folder. "Put that back down, Tom."

Austin turned and said to each face. "I'm in charge. I'm the boss. We'll scan the photographs for a yellow or a pink skin tone like Jace ordered as one of two genius medical physicians present."

"Shit." Tom slumped back inside the sitting chair, slapping the paper folder closed inside his lap, staring at meanie Austin.

Stu asked. "Why should the color pink be reviewed, Jace?"

Jace moved and sat with Frank on the sofa, saying with a nod to each face. "If he is taking any type of antibiotics or prescription medications to counteract an unknown toxin within his biological system that the lab boys have already IDed but haven't discovered, then that person will exhibit a pink undertone cast to their natural skin tone."

"So what? Logic rules. We should extract Thursday people, who are yellow, orange, pink, white, black or purple first. That's my feeling." Tom flung both arms in the air with a smile.

"I have another feeling," Austin moved ahead towards a chair, sitting down with a stern face.

Tom leaned over to see Austin with a grin and a giggle. "Do you got a psychic hint there, Austin?"

Frank turned and frowned at Sawyer. "Shut up, Tom!"

"Do you got an inkling there, maybe?" Tom nodded with a grin to Austin.

Frank shouted in angry, "Shut the fuck up, Tom!"

"Do you got a touch of like ESP over there, man?" Tom nodded with a grin to Austin.

Frank frowned. "Tom?"

"Do you got a sixth sense to share with us, Austin?" Tom laughed, pondering that Berrington was a Tele person like his favorite science fiction character Starra Starbuck inside his favorite science fiction novel Unknown Me, which was written by his favorite sci-fi writer Ela.

Frank frowned. "Thomas!"

Tom wiggled all fingers with a laugh at Austin. "Austin likes science fiction movies too."

Austin pointed down at the paper folder in Tom's lap. "Get to work, right now, Tom!"

"All right! All right! I'm working." Tom flung both arms into the air and sat on the edge of the chair, shifting both of the jumpy feet side to side with a smile.

"I propose for the new identification process of medical analysis using the example that Tom has generously cited, if you have any feeling, then place the chart in the 'yes' pile which is the empty space on the coffee table." Austin pointed to the coffee table. "Then our medical experts Jace and Frank can make the final review."

"You know like using your Tele powers." Tom laughed, waving his arms with more silliness.

"May I hit him, now, Austin?" Stu flung a hand into the air but was too far from Tom. Tom stood upright from the chair and rotated both fists in a circle with a growl.

Austin said, "Sit down, Tom!" Tom reseated with a sour frown to see Gage.

"No! You may not, Stuart. We have too much work and not enough brains even through Tom's are medically demented, since we do need them at the moment." Frank turned and chuckled to Stu.

Tom turned and frowned to Mangrove. "I heard that nasty fucking comment, Frank."

"You're supposed too. It's called an insult. Now, please stop interrupting. Let Austin finish with his overall plan." Frank turned and nodded to Austin.

Austin said to each face. "Thanks, Frank. I feel uncomfortable with making a final review. I suggest that we have a final, final review pile. We all can review those folders, one more time. Then, we all can decide on a case-by-case basis, if the people files qualify for our one hundred percent investigation." Frank, Stu, and Jace nodded to Austin. Tom looked up to the ceiling, pouting at the stupid idea. Austin nodded to each face. "Good! We all agree. The final, final pile will be reviewed by all of us for a third and a final time. Are there anymore suggestions, ideas, or comments?" He reached down and touched the column of paper folders in front on Tom's leathers. "Tom and I will start with the first file right here. We'll search for clues. If we decide no, then we will place in this discarded pile on the side table between me and Tom here." Austin patted the surface of the low table. "Stu will review this pile of rejected HR folders for any and all missed clues. In the third pile which I will label the 'yes' file, Frank and Jace who are medical experts will examine the visual photo of the employee for a final review. Then we all act as a viewing team while deciding if the candidate will rest in the peace..."

"Clever pun," Tom looked with a chuckle and a grin to see Austin.

"...in the 'no' pile or the give 'em hell in the named 'investigate' pile on top of the coffee table here. Are we clear?" Austin said, seeing the nods from the others.

"I'll start." Tom grabbed the top paper folder, scanning the first photography of the unlucky Charity Hospital employee who was born on March 2, 1964. Tom finished his visual eye scan in three seconds flat and handed the folder to Austin.

Austin accepted and scanned the folder and the same photo, deciding if it was to be investigated for the second round.

Tom grabbed a second folder, whispering for his eardrums only. "This is going to be a long fucking night."

10:09 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright stars

The Quartet had blown through 2,160 HR folders from the Charity Healthcare System which included a medical conglomerate of twenty-six operating hospitals that were located starting down from the southern portion of Key West and up to northern Miami Beach. The Charity "parent" company employed 45,098 "children" which were composed of physicians, nurses, technicians, therapists, clerks, administrators, directors, supervisors, managers, janitors, engineers, analysts, programmers, and superintendents with a service staff from the areas of environmental, maintenance, cafeteria, warehouse workers, and a count of forty-five vice presidents, twenty-four presidents, twelve super vice presidents, and one super president.

The Charity Human Resources 2,738 folders were being reviewed for one common description a birth month of March as the clue was offered by a dying priest with emotional feelings for the earthly victims murdered in their hospital beds.

Tom continued to review the confidential paper folders which shown a new or a torn or an abused paper binder. All people were employed between a time period of ten years regardless of sex, race, genre, or age. The paper folders had been delivered by a hired carrier service to the secured home of Austin.

Austin was the head investigator of the newly created state of Florida governor's investigational special committee. And super president Jefferson did not want to fight against Austin's legal decrees, subpoenas, warrants, and paperwork.

"Time out." Tom stood, raising his arm over his skull and yawned.

"All right. Break time." Austin said, still reviewing the current folder.

"Dinner?" Tom looked to each face with a smile and a nod.

"Order something. We work around the clock." Austin slapped the folder into the stack, lifting up a new one, catching up on his workload.

"Uh," Tom frowned to Austin.

"Work around the clock," Austin looked up with a stern face to see Tom.

"Tom, order me?" Stu stood, shuffling to the bathroom, shouting. "Tom, order me..."

"Hey..." Tom pointed to Austin. "I'm not the fucking maid. Austin's house. See the owner," he laughed.

"You were the first one out of your assigned seat. Grab orders. Call for food." Austin stood, stretching his tight back muscles too.

Tom clapped with a nod and a grin. "Okay, that's easy, pizza and beer, coming right up."

"No beer." Austin viewed Tom.

"No beer. Why not?" Tom frowned.

"We need clear heads and focused minds." Jace sat beside Frank, pointing the folders.

"Beer doesn't affect my brain cells." Tom laughed.

Stu returned to the room, saying with a chuckle and a grin. "I remember the last Tom's brain cells were not affected by beer." He stood next to Tom.

"You do not." Tom turned and frowned to Stu.

"When?" Jace looked up with a smile to see Stu.

"Aspen in February, skiing." Frank looked up with a chuckle to see Tom.

"We were debating about the effects of clean versus dirty ice frost on the metal flag pole. You started to lick the pole with your beer breathe to test our new Quartet working theory. Then Frank stopped you." Stu chuckled.

Tom ignored Stu's exaggerated fable, saying with a sour frown to Austin. "Where's Juan, Gale, your man servant, Austin? Let him do all the shitty work."

"I give my house staff days off as in a set of sequential days of vacation." Austin stretched out his back spine from the intense manhunt of paperwork.

Stu grinned. "Tom doesn't believe in time off. He works his staff 24/7/365. Don't ya get tired of servants hanging around the homestead, Sawyer?"

"I'm practicing." Tom turned and moved to the billiards table for a quick game during play recess.

"Practicing for what, asshole?" Stu turned and stared at Tom's butthole which was going to the billiards table.

"For stuff? I need all my help for stuff." Tom stopped and picked up the tossed pool stick from the table fabric.

"Bull shit." Stu sat, grabbing a new folder.

"Does your house staff have green cards, Tom?" Frank turned and smiled to Tom for annoyingly fun. Mangrove knew that they possessed the proper US Federal Government papers. Tom did not know the correct answer to that simple question, since Frank enjoyed the torture and the intimidate of Sawyer for shit and giggles.

Tom turned and frowned to Frank with the pool stick in his hand. "Of course, they do..."

"Are you paying their US Federal income taxes and the state of Florida unemployment taxes as required by the IRS each quarter to the Tallahassee capital, Tom?" Frank turned and winked to Austin. He grinned.

Tom jabbed a finger at Mangrove. "You're my CPA, Frank."

Frank jabbed a finger back to Tom. "I write your monthly paycheck and pay your monthly income taxes at our company. Who does their personal payroll taxes, Thomas?"

Tom slumped forward his arms and his shoulders. "I...I do. Yeah, of course, me," then he turned to the billiards table.

Frank turned and winked to Austin. "I think that we should send in an accounting team to audit Tom and his personal household payroll records before something happens."

Austin grinned. "I believe that to be an excellent idea, Frank."

Tom turned and frowned to Austin. "What the fucking hell? You're joking, right, Austin? Joking with me?"

Austin turned and frowned to Tom. "You're supposed to pay the monies to all your house staffers and the US Federal Government, Tom, and not the nice staff members."

"I am. I do...I..." Tom turned and swished the pool stick at the ball, missing.

Stu tired of teasing his baby brother, turning and frown to Tom. "Enough, pup. Get the pizzas. I'm hungry. I can eat two large cheese pizzas by myself along with a six pack of green tea with lemon."

"I want a couple of dark sodas and a medium garage pizza with everything." Jace ordered and viewed the folder.

"Large meat, including a couple of bottles of grape fitness drinks and not orange for me, Thomas." Frank viewed the HR folder with Jace.

"Austin!?" Tom shot the ball, memorizing the pizza orders.

"I'm thinking." Austin sat and reached for a new folder.

Tom turned and frowned to Austin, "Jeezus Christ. I don't have all gawd damn day...night."

Austin viewed the folder. "You have all night, Tom. I want a pepperoni and orange soda."

Jace turned and frowned to Berrington. "Austin, that's the most sugar-packed soda in the world with eighty-five grams of sugar and 325 calories."

"But zero grams of fat." Frank chuckled at the folder.

Jace said. "The sugar equivalent of seventeen chocolate double chips gooey cookies. That drink contains, as much sugar as, most people consume in a day. Because, the juice is made up, mostly of water and high fructose corn syrup. Ya better off skipping the soda and drinking plain water. And a green tea frappuccino which is blended with a whip of cream is the most sugar-packed coffee drink with ninety-seven grams of sugar, 650 calories, and fifteen grams of fat, a sugar high equivalent of eleven dark chocolate covered peppermint patty candies."

Frank licked his lips, viewing the folder. "Tom, order five dark chocolate covered peppermint patty candies with my pizza order."

Jace shook his skull, turning and frowning to Frank. "Not tonight, Frank, you won't be able to sleep."

"I can sleep anytime." Frank chuckled and viewed the folder.

Austin viewed the folder. "Order me, five out of the standard six-pack of orange soda and not grape."

Tom slammed the pool stick into the billiard table, spinning around, saying with a sour frown a matching tone, and moved to the kitchen. "Has everyone had a good time fucking me? Good. 'Cause, this is the last shitting time that I'm the fucking ass slave boy. Some other shitty asshole gets the next gawd damn HR research pink complexion-tinted meal. I'll be back." He entered the kitchen, shouting. "That's Arnold's line. Did ya hear me, assholes? I am inside the kitchen, dumb asses. I'm getting the food, dipshits. Now, I'm picking up the receiver on the landline, shit asses. I am ordering the food, ass wipes. Now, I'm placing..."

10:33 p.m.

The door sounded with a ding.

"Answer the door, Tom." Stu ordered, beating Jace in a second game of billiards.

"Damn it. I'm not the fucking ass slave boy. I just explained that." Tom studied the chess board, beating Frank's move.

"Answer the damn door, slave boy." Austin smirked and taunted his baby brother for shitty fun too.

Tom stood, exhaling with a huff of annoyance, marching to the front door. "Shit. No fucking ass respect. I get no gawd damn fucking ass respect here. Why in the heated fucking hell do I hang around all of ya'll?"

Frank stood, cleaning up the chess pieces from the side table. "I write your paycheck for your four story expensive mansion and your expensive twin tower water fountains and your expensive..."

"Fuck you, Frank." Tom slammed the wood against the Lizard-painted yellow wall, grabbing the stack of hot boxes and cold bags of beverages, nodding to the Quartet Associate (QA) guard, who had traveled from the sentry gate for the pizza delivery at Austin's front porch. He slammed the door with his leather as it banged against the metal.

Stu moved and assisted Tom, doling out the cold drinks without napkins or glasses.

Frank as the proper South Florida gentleman moved his ass to the kitchen for the missing the table accessories.

Tom sat in a chair and dove with tongue and teeth, gobbling down two bites the pizza slice, tapping the top of the soda can. He swished it open and gulped half the cool contents down a thirsty throat, washing down the pizza and wiped his dirty hand on a new pair of blue jeans.

He chewed and swallowed. "We need markers for ID placement of each Charity Hospital within each HR folder." Stu raised one of the many final, final HR folders. "Something like a flag pointer to narrow down the next component hunt of our visual eye search." He searched the surface tables for the required office supply items. "I need a piece of paper." Stu viewed Austin.

Austin slowly chewed the pizza and ignored Gage.

Stu scanned the room. "Your house? Paper? Laptop? Ink pen? Austin, do you believe in any type of modern communications that exist within the twenty first century?"

Austin slowly chewed and enjoyed his pizza, the peace, and Stu's impatience.

Stu parked his two fists on his belt, scanning the paper folders.

Frank viewed Gage. "Don't think about it, Stuart. There's a deposit on all these HR records ordered by Jefferson. We lose 250,000 dollars."

"Chump change, Frank." Tom shot pizza parts in the air as the nasty stuff landed everywhere.

"A penny saved is a penny earned." Frank nodded to Tom and wipe his mouth of food.

Tom snorted and shot more pizza parts over the table, the sofa, the floor, and his victim.

"Shit, Tom. Didn't Aunt Martha teach you table manners?" Jace scooted away from Tom's healthy air passages.

"Thomas was raised in the jungle of the South America and then abandoned by monkeys on Austin's door step as a small child." Frank said, wiping his mouth and eating another slice of his food.

"Shut up, Frank." Tom shot more pizza particles, hitting on Jace's leathers. Jace scooted further away from Sawyer out of target range on Tom's tongue.

"Found a black marker. But no pressed wood can be seen anywhere." Stu scanned the book shelf for any type of writing material.

"Use," Tom burped, "the wall."

"The wall!?" Stu turned and frowned to Tom.

"Ya know," Tom burped, "the big yellow thing behind your ass." Tom shot big chunks of pizza onto the table, the floor, and Jace.

"Damn, Tom." Jace scooted closer to Austin out of target range on Tom. "Ill-mannered runt of a pig."

"Heard that." Tom shot more food from his tongue.

"Excellent hearing, Tom." Jace chewed.

"Austin!?" Stu frowned.

"Go ahead. I'm painting in two weeks." Austin chewed.

"Black, right?" Tom shot more food particle, saying with a grin and a giggle. "Cool purple. Right, man? Ya going to paint your walls in cool purple for royalty."

"Answer the fool?" Frank said as Austin swallowed and sipped on his soda.

Tom chewed and shot more food particles in the air with a smile. "Orange? Green? Red? Yeah. I like red too."

Frank swallowed and frowned to Tom. "There are not any colored red walls inside your house, Thomas."

Stu grinned. "Janey would beat his ass red if there were," he chuckled with Frank and Jace.

Tom smiled, slapping his chest. "I'm fucking king of my castle. I'll paint my walls with shit." He burped, "if I wanna."

Jace turned and smirked to Frank. "I'll be certain to tell that to Janey tomorrow during lunch," he chuckled with Stu, Frank, and Austin.

Tom parted his lips, staring at Jace with worry. "Tell Jane? Tomorrow?"

Jace turned to see Tom. "She has an appointment with me for her annual medical checkup."

"You're shitting me, Jace. Why are ya shitting me, Jace?" Tom giggles with relief.

Jace shook his skull, "I'm not shitting on you, Thomas. I'm seeing Janey tomorrow in my office. I'll make certain to mention you're interested in painting your walls with shit. Now, will that be human or cow?" He chuckled with Stu, Austin, and Frank.

Tom stood and rushed to the archway, pulling out his mobile telephone from his jacket pocket, punching the familiar number, saying with a nasty tenor. "Another smartass, does medical school teach that subject only to physicians?"

"Where's he going?" Jace watched Tom enter the dark hallway.

"The king's calling his mommy." Frank chuckled.

Stu pointed with a smile to the yellow wall. "Looky here at my artwork."

"You get an A plus, Big Man for your brilliant color coordination with the bright yellow wall." Jace turned and smile to the wall.

"What color are you painting the walls?" Frank turned and smiled to Austin.

"Why?" Austin looked at the wall and enjoyed sharing his badass boss authority equally with the fourths, eating another bite of pizza.

"I like having data Tom doesn't. We can drive him crazy the rest of the night." Frank grinned.

Jace turned and frowned to Mangrove. "I sometimes wonder about you, Franklin. I always thought you a caring and compassion type as a doctor, instead you're one devious son of a bitch."

"Damn right and proud of it too." Frank quoted the Quartet motto with a smile wiping off his lips.

"Pink." Austin whispered.

Stu stared and parted his lips to Austin. "Excuse me."

"Pink." Austin whispered and ate the pizza.

"No shit." Frank laughed.

"Pink." Stu grinned at Austin's prime choice of wall color for his castle.

"You're painting your interior walls...pink." Jace turned and smiled to Austin.

"To match the external paint." Austin chewed the pizza.

"Only the world's toughest guy would paint the inside of his house...pink." Stu chuckled.

"Damn right and proud of it too." Austin quoted the Quartet motto without a smile and chewed the pizza.

Tom slowly entered the room with a pinched face after talking with his wife, tucking his mobile telephone back into the jacket pocket.

Silence permeated inside the room.

Tom halted near the coffee table, saying with a goofy grin to each face. "What's up, boys?" He viewed a smiling Frank, a working Stu, an eating Jace, and a smirking Austin, dropping his grin, saying with a sour frown. "Okay. What'da ya do, Frank? Pee in my soda?" He looked down with a worried brow at his open can of an unfinished soda.

Jace turned and chuckled to Tom. "Devious son of a bitch."

"Who is?" Tom moved and removed the unfinished beverage and the remaining left over two pizza slices to the wet bar counter, since he did not trust his deceptive brother Frank.

On the foot pathway back to his assigned seat, Tom grabbed Frank's last piece of food. The evil doctor would never poison himself on purposed as Tom stuffs the folded triangle into his mouth.

"Hey..." Frank shouted to the thief. "I planned to consume that."

"Tell us about your vocabulary words, Stu." Jace turned and stared at the colorful wall.

Stu stood beside wall, pointing to the words. "These markers are the relational reference points of the affected patients, hospitals, and dates."

"Who is?" Tom viewed and burped to Jace, after eating Frank's sausage filled pizza slice.

Stu turned and jabbed a finger at each name on the wall. "Charity Kendall Hospital, Charity Homestead, Charity Key Biscayne, Charity Coral Gables, Charity Miami Springs, Charity Miami Lakes, Charity Doral, Charity Coconut Grove, Charity South Miami, Charity Florida City, Charity Key West, and finally Charity North Miami plus the associated dates of affected, yet deceased..."

"And exhumed," Frank wiped his chin with the napkin, viewing the wall.

"Poor Charity patients," Jace wiped his hand with the napkin, viewing the wall.

"Who's a devious son of a bitch, Jace?" Tom wiped the tomato sauce from his hands on his new pair of blue jeans, viewing Jace.

"Place the month of March over the top of the different hospital names." Frank said.

"You are Tom." Jace viewed the wall.

"Naw, that's a given like in geometry." Stu said.

"Yeah, thank you." Tom smile to Jace. "I accept the compliment, Jace," he opened a new soda, sipping on the beverage.

"Put the dates for the day of Thursday by the years." Frank ordered to Stu.

"The vile comment is an insult, Tom." Jace viewed the wall.

"No. That'll take hours." Stu said.

"No. That's an insult to me." Tom viewed Jace, sipping on the cold soda.

"Yes Tom." Frank chuckled, viewing the wall.

"No Frank." Stu said, turning and dashing to the front door, and went outside.

"You're not a nice guy, Jace." Tom frowned to Jace.

"You're an asshole, Tom." Frank chuckled and viewed Tom.

Tom stood, jabbing a finger at Frank. "Well, you're a gigantic ass fucking butthole, Frank..."

"Enough, pups. Sit down, Tom." Austin said, exhaling with a huff of annoyance at the restless barking pups and sipped on his soda. Tom sat and sipped on his beverage.

"Technology rules." Stu slammed the door against the Lizard-designer wall, carrying his precious laptop, sitting in the chair, and typed on the computer with clicks and beeps. "Program complete." He smiled, fumbling with the mini-printer and a set of blank paper.

"Damn, he's good." Jace smiled to Stu.

"Damn, he's great." Frank nodded to Stu.

Stu attached a portal mini-printer to the laptop's computer port, printing the pages, showing all calendar dates of the day Thursday for the past ten years, and stood, giving out the papers with a grin and a nod. "Here ya go. One for Austin, Frank, Jace, Tom, and me."

"I scan the faces." Tom allowed the printout to freely drop down to the floor, gulping his soda and burped for shitty fun, readying for his beddy bye time.

"Pick up the paper, Tom. You're going to utilize it. We're almost finished with the visual scan of each photo. The next step is identifying and separating the pink and yellow people born on the day of Thursday." Austin stared at Tom.

Tom narrowed his eyelids. "Bullshit, Austin. I like science fiction too. But this method and procedure is just plain old horse crap."

Jace said. "I disagree, Tom. The medical lab tests have confirmed that the patient died of a liver toxin. Logically, technologically, psychologically, and mentally, the killer has a liver infection and can spread the virus similar to HIV."

Tom laughed, "The killer is fucking them to death. I don't know that."

"Not literally sexual fucking, asshole." Frank frowned. "The killer is fucking with their immune system, Tom. That's why we're searching for Charity employees with a pink or yellow tint to their natural skin tone, who all possess any type of underlining maybe a hidden deeply serious medical condition also."

Tom sat back with a sour frown, waving his hand. "Fine. Fine. After the Thursday parade, I'm out of here. It's late. I'm tired."

"Janey's mad. Isn't she?" Frank smirked to Tom.

"What, Jane?" Tom grabbed a paper folder from the coffee table.

"She's mad." Frank smiled to Tom.

"No, not Jane." Tom stared down at his brand new leathers.

"Yes Janey." Frank chuckles, nodding.

"Not Jane." Tom stared at the dirty floor tiles.

Frank smiled, "She's pissed if I understand the tone of your nervous voice, Tom." Mrs. Thomas Edison Sawyer, III kept Tom in line as a life time troublemaker in the Quartet.

"No," Tom whispered and viewed Frank.

"Okay, Tom. You can go home earlier than the rest. We have humiliated you enough for the night." Austin wiped his lips with the paper napkin.

Tom raised and slapped his hands down to the paper folder. "Fine. Let's get started."

Actually Jane was more than pissed like shitting mad. And she had probably locked the bedroom door based on Tom's past screw-ups. No sex tonight.

Tom kept fucking up things with his big mouth. Joking around with his brothers was fun and games but joking with vile statements about his temperamental wife was suicide, imprisonment, isolation, punishment, or a combination of the vile nouns.

Tom would explain to her that his mean brothers were nick picking on him about something nasty. He couldn't recall exactly at the moment. But Tom had defended his person bravely and soldierly during the heat of battle winning the big verbal catfight.

He scanned the calendar date of birth against Stu's printout and did not find a match, slapping the reviewed folder to a new pile, using the faster method of elimination.

No. Slap. No. Slap. Yes. Slap. Yes. Slap. No. Slap.

Tom looked up to see the high folder stack of Austin then the short folder stack of Stu. Jace and Frank were conferring over one of the photos inside its folder stack.

Tom planned to sleep late tomorrow. He did not work this hard in his real job as head lawyer of Quartet Associates. This intense mysterious unknown clueless FBI-driven investigational shit was really hard work.

The local law and police detectives deserved a great big pay increase. Tom was going to propose that nifty idea to Trilling at the next murder investigation meeting.

Yes. Slap. No. Slap. Yes. Slap. No. Slap. No. Slap. Yes. Wow.

The little girl possessed a set of pretty pale skin which was vibrating with a glowing undertone of pink tint underneath her long black wavy hair, and a pair of baby blue eye balls

Tom slapped the folder closed, looking up to see his brothers.

Austin was reading. Stu was done. Frank and Jace were arguing over one of the photos.

Tom stood and tossed the folder in the 'investigate' file as the folder missed the tall tower, hitting the yellow wall, flinging papers downward. It spilled the loose sheets over the floor. "Shit!" Tom moved and squatted, gathering the loose papers, and roughly stuffed the items back into the folder out of order. He glanced at a single paper which showed the employee annual performance review, seeing that the final hand written remark on the person's work evaluation from her supervisor which read: Outstanding job from Coral Gables Hospital. He smiled. "So, Charity does have a few honest workers unlike asshole Jefferson." He shuffled the twisted papers back into the folder, noting a different hospital name on a different annual employee performance review which read also: Outstanding job from Charity South Miami Hospital.

Then Tom saw a third separate piece of paper with a different hospital name as the personal review form read: Outstanding job from Charity Miami Beach Hospital.

The employee job title read computer clerk with a base salary rate of ten dollars per hour.

He mumbled. "Poor thing. She needs a raise working that kind of salary for an asshole like Jefferson." He read more of the loose annual employment performance review papers. "71,345.68 dollars per year. Damn." He pondered the information, moving back to his assigned seat, and sat, flipping back and forth through the loose pieces of papers, seeing her employment at different locations of various Charity Hospitals. He straightened the papers in chronological time order. Tom studied the first page, then viewed the wall, then the second page, and then viewed the wall. He studied the third page and viewed the wall.

The page and wall matched perfectly which clearly identified each hospital proper name and appropriate employment calendar date.

The hospital names represented the dead homes of the 8,063 exhumed bodies that pointed to the killing pathway of the unknown murderer, who was stalking the pink painted hallways at all the different Charity Hospitals throughout South Florida.

Tom parted his lips, "Shit. Guys!?"

"Go home, Tom," Austin viewed the folders.

"Look at this, Austin." Tom pointed the paper.

Frank stood and rushed to Tom first. "What have you found, Tom?" He stood over Tom's blonde hair roots.

Tom pointed the page, "This file...I mean this girl, she worked in the fourth year within the posted ten years on the yellow wall at Charity South Miami Hospital. Then she worked in the sixth year within the posted ten-year time period at Charity Coral Gables Hospital. Then she worked in the fifth year within the posted ten-year time period at Charity Coconut Grove." He looked up with a smile and a nod to see Frank, pointing the wall. "The hospitals match the markers on the wall set by Stu which shows all the hospital locations and dates exactly, precisely, and everythingly which is right here inside this stack of many HR folders."

"Holy crap." Stu stood and moved to Tom, grinning with shock at the incredible discovery of a single Charity employee in one night's work.

Frank bent and pulled the folder from Tom. "Let me review the folder, Tom." He squatted and shuffled the papers over the coffee table, reading the data with his physician skills. The team needed absolute proof and not some half-guessing regarding this intense murder investigation.

Tom stood and smiled, dancing side to side with happy joy. "I found it, Frank. I did that, Stu. I'm right, Austin."

Frank pointed to the folder, saying with a nod. "We all will verify, confirm, and validate the photo and markers together." He moved and sat on the sofa, looking to each face around the low table. "Correct?"

"Agreed." Jace said with a nod, sitting with Frank.

"Agreed." Stu moved to the wall for confirmation.

"Agreed." Austin sat on the other side of Frank.

"Pink or yellow skin?" Jace viewed the folder.

Frank viewed the photo. "She has pale skin with a glowing rich pink undertone."

Stu stopped and stood in front of the wall, holding the black marker, and wrote on the yellow wall with the black marker. "Pink skin. Check."

"Born on Thursday in March?" Jace views the folder.

"March third is on Thursday." Frank said.

"March third. Check." Stu validated the computer printout the date in March on the day of Thursday.

Frank scanned her first employee performance review with Jace and Austin.

Tom smiled and danced side to side with joy.

Frank said. "First year, within the past ten-year time period is Charity South Miami Hospital."

Stu marked a black check mark next to the targeted hospital of the murderer. "Check."

Frank said. "The second year is Charity Coconut Grove Hospital."

"Check." Stu marked with a black check mark.

"The third year within the ten-year time frame Charity Coral Gables Hospital."

"Check."

"The fourth year, Charity Doral Hospital."

"Check."

"The fifth year, Charity North Miami Hospital."

"Check."

"The sixth year, Charity Florida City Hospital."

"Check."

"The seventh year, Charity Biscayne Hospital."

"Check."

"The eighth year is Charity Miami Shores Hospital."

"Check."

"The ninth year, Charity Homestead Hospital."

"Check."

"...and finally," Frank smiled.

Tom yelled with a sour frown. "Read the gawd damn page. Shit, Frank."

"Charity Kendall Hospital is the tenth year which is currently the present day, too." Frank viewed the wall.

"Holy crap. Checkmate, Frank." Stu marked the last black mark, stepping back and parting his lips with shock at the wall.

"Damn it to hell." Austin viewed the wall.

"Holy fucking shit." Tom viewed the wall.

"Good luck." Frank said.

"Great luck." Austin said.

"God send." Stu said.

"God sent." Jace viewed the wall.

"The priest is right." Austin said.

"The priest is dead." Tom viewed and frowned to the ceiling. "Amen."

"We found the fucking monster." Stu spun with a grin to see Austin.

"We found the gawd damn killer." Tom looked down to the floor and danced side to side and waved his arms and his legs.

Jace frowned to Frank. "Would any other HR files have the same markers with the same locations?"

"Let's find them all. The night's young." Tom raised his arms, dancing to the short stack of HR folders.

Frank shook his skull. "Do you know the astronomical odds of another employee at Charity, who had worked at each hospital in each year and who was born on a Thursday in the month of March with matching the exact same markers?"

Tom stopped and lifted up two folders in the air, saying with a grin. "What did Frank say?"

"A zillion to point zero, zero one in finding a second Charity employee that would match all the known variables, Tom." Stu viewed and chuckled to silly Tom.

"That's means we found her, guys." Tom tossed the paper folders down on the floor and danced around the crowded floor with a smile of happiness, wiggling a skinny ass, waving a pair of skinny arms with a smile and a cheer.

"It is a her, not a he," Austin looked down with a smirk at her photograph.

Tom pulled out and jiggled the set of car keys, dancing around the crowded floor with a smile. "Let's get her now right this minute. I got my car keys. I'll drive swiftly fast like the wind. Or I'll be swiftly faster like a rocket ship. Yeah! Zoom!" He danced ahead towards the front door.

Stu moved ahead and reached out, grabbing the new skirt on Tom, dragging Sawyer into the chest of Gage. Stu frowned into the eardrum on Tom. "It is midnight, Thomas. Tomorrow, we will see her. She ain't going anywhere. And she's employed by Charity Kendall which is currently the last hospital on the ten-year listing and the present hospital of the murders. Her employment record is intact and complete. No terminations. No reprimands. No leaves of absences. She will be there working her paying job tomorrow." He released and shoved Tom towards the closed door with an ugly yawn. "And we will be there in the dull late morning," he yawned again.

Tom shook a skull with a sour frown and moved ahead towards the closed front door. "We arrest her ass right now. Yeah man! We go and do it fuckingly right now?"

"Due process, asshole," Stu reached down with an ugly yawn and gathered up all the computer gear to see his home and his wife Gracie.

Tom stopped with a nod and a giggle. "O yeah! Well then, we call Trilling. He can arrest her ass tonight."

Stu held all the computer gear with another ugly yawn. "We question her, tail her, and observe her tomorrow, Tom. If she tries to run, then we let her. And then, we toss the entire hard leather bound copy twenty-eight volumes of encyclopedias at her literally."

"And figuratively." Frank stood upright from the sofa and tucked the precious human resources paper folder underneath an armpit for safekeeping until the interview tomorrow at Charity Kendall Hospital, moving ahead towards the front door also.

"Good work, Tom!" Jace moved and slapped Tom on the collar bone, saying with a smile and a nod.

"Excellent work, Thomas!" Stu nodded, carrying his computer gear, moving to the front door.

"Good job. Go home to Janey, Tom." Austin nodded to Tom, desiring a good night's sleep too.

"Home!?" He bounced around in a circle, saying with a grin and a giggle, and flinging his arms and his hands. "I'm too psyched to leave now."

"Toss his ass out my door, Stu. I'm not psyched. I'm tired." Austin yawned, rubbing his tired eyeballs. "Everyone, go home. We'll meet here on tomorrow at eight forty-five in the morning to visit our killer at Charity Kendall."

"Right on." Jace yelled, walking out the door.

"Boom." Stu shouts, following Jace out the door.

"Go Sharks." Tom yelled, following Frank out the door.

"Go Sharks! This ain't no football game, Tom." Stu moved to his car parked underneath the veranda of Austin's house.

"Freedom of speech, Stu." Tom raised his arms, saying with a grin and a giggle of happiness.

"What!?" Stu stood at the car grill, looking at silly Tom.

Tom raised his arm, shouting with a smile and a nod. "This is America. I can say, do, and act anyway that I want. So there. Go Sharks..."

"As long as it is legal," Stu slid to the driver's seat.

"Go home." Frank yelled and entered his car.
Thursday June 10th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin

Master bedroom setting

Warm temperatures with bright starry night

He opened his eyelids, seeing the ceiling, turning to see the clock: 2:31 am. He sat upright, reaching over and grabbed the paper and the pen, scribbling down the same description of the "dream doll."

The dream doll had a head of long black hair without a set of facial features. She wore the same baby blue clothes which was an exact dream, three nights in a row. The dream had created a deep mystery and a curious intrigue within the mental mind of Austin.

He leaned a skull and a back spine against the cool headboard in heavy thought.

8:08 a.m.

City of South Miami (three miles west from Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Rachel Roach

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Each police officer wore a pair of sunglasses, a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored trousers, and a pair of boat shoes, slowly marching ahead, displaying a dangling police officer official Coral Gables badge down from a pale colored neckline. Each one exited from a shared non-marked police officer detective's white colored sedan. They slowly moved ahead over the yellow bricked colored sidewalk, surveying the grass, the street, the house, and the sky with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan, stopping and stood on top of the front porch with a stern face to see the uniformed police officer. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade homicide police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion without makeup.

The uniform police officer of South Miami police department stood in front of an open archway with a nod and a stern face, "Please enter, detectives. Nothing has been touched. The photographs had been snapped. After your examination, the forensic team will tear the house apart, looking for the answers to the cold-blood murdered. Here, the new laptop contains all her most updated background information, coming from the police computer database and other databases throughout the state of Florida." he lifted and extended the machine to Loree.

"Thank you, officer," Loree accepted and cuddled the new laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a stern face, scanning the room.

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, following behind the back spine on Loree into the living room. The room was rectangle shaped with a side wall of long windows. A nice living room set of furniture was scattered around the walls and near the wall of windows with the usual entertainment items, such as, a plasma television, a stereo system, a row of potted flowers, scattered magazines, and an assortment of closed books. She stopped and stood, staring with a puzzled brow down at the oversized sitting chair with the dead female. "The female is clearly blue colored and dead. However, she is sitting upright on her ass and posed like she is talking with someone inside the chair. This is really weird. So there should be plenty of fingerprints from the killer, since the killer had to pose and adjust her dead body like that inside the sitting chair. What do you think, Loree?"

He stood beside his partner Hardy and stared down at the dead female with a grin and a laugh. "This is indeed odd. But this is South Miami, a hotter day of murder." He lifted and handed the new laptop to Hardy. She accepted it and opened the lid, tapping on the key, seeing the screens, reading through the gathered information by the police department with a stern face. Loree turned and moved around the room without touching an object, saying with a stern face. "South Miami is really a city within Miami-Dade County with a population of about 13,000 people. The Metrorail above train runs along the edge of the city limit, comings from downtown Miami and all the way to downtown Kendall. A long time ago, the real Native American Indian tribes of Tequesta, Calusa, and Jaega lived and stomped a pair of naked feet through South Miami. However, back then, the Natives hunted the Little Hunting Ground which is really the city of Coconut Grove. All these coconut trees produced coconuts and plenty of birds for dinner. The Natives hunted the Little Hunting Ground from present day Coconut Grove down to the Big Hunting Ground, which is present day Cutler Ridge community near Palmetto Bay for fresh fishies. I know everything about South Miami."

Hardy read the laptop information out loud with a stern face. "I am slowly learning everything about the dead female. She is Rachel Roach. She owns this house at Fifty Seventh Avenue and Seventy Third Street, which is on the east side of US Highway One. She is only a few blocks away from Charity South Miami Hospital."

He moved around the floor, surveying more of the walls and the furniture with a smile. "Charity South Miami Hospital was formed in the year 1961 as a hundred bed hospital. Now, it holds almost five hundred hospital beds for both sick adults and children. I have never been there, thou."

Hardy read through the information. "She is not a nurse..."

He stopped and stood at the wall, pointing down at the open bag with a smile. "She's ballerina. There are tons of used ballet shoes here. That would make sense. The city of South Miami is home to the Miami Conservatory which was founded in the year 1949. It is the oldest and best known ballet school in the USA." He chuckled. "I know everything about South Miami. It's a hobby of mine, learning about the history of Miami."

Hardy read the laptop information out loud. "She owns a car that's parked inside the garage. She lives alone, not married. She is twenty-seven years old. She has a bachelor's degree in music and dance from here at Miami-Dade University. She has worked as a ballet instructor for eight years. Before that, she lived with her parents and was in college."

"I got my justice degree at Miami-Dade University." He moved around the room and stopped, standing in front the window, surveying the trees inside the backyard with a stern face. "South Miami has a tight net of tall overstory trees with tons of green colored leaves, a leafy residential neighborhood. There are numerous parks for dogs, baseball, football, basketball, tennis, and soccer. The restaurants eaters include American, Japanese, Chinese, French, Italian, Cuban, Portuguese and Middle Eastern, and Mediterranean foods. Wilson Alexander Larkins born in the year 1860 was thirty-six years old when he and his wife Katie Estelle Burtashaw and their five children and their livestock of horses and cows arrived in South Miami in the year 1896 in present day Lummus Park of Miami. He purchased land and built a home and a barn. He also built the first general store in the year 1898 which is known with the name of Cocoplum Circle as it presently located inside the city of Coral Gables. Then, the little unnamed community grew. So he established a post office building. Larkins was the first US Postmaster. He called his new town Manila, but the new settlers called the village Larkins."

Hardy flipped the screen and read the laptop information out loud. "Her parents live here in South Miami, too. Not much else, she listed on her job application that she attended art shows and wanted a pet."

"She shouldn't have gotten a mean dog. Then she wouldn't be dead. Who found her?" Loree turned and moved around the room, inspecting the furniture pieces, the walls, the other items with a stern face.

Hardy flipped the screen and read from the laptop the information out loud. "One of her co-workers stopped by the house when she didn't show up for work, which was abnormal. She hadn't missed a day of work in eight years other than a planned vacation."

Loree moved and stopped, standing in front of the dead female with a stern face. "She has a permanent vacation now. Some of the more prominent historic families have a set of historic buildings and streets named for them. Dorn Avenue is named after Harold W. Dorn and his brother Robert that moved here in the year 1910. They grew more mango and avocado trees. Mary E. Dorn was the first president of the Cocoplum Thimble Club, the first ever Women's Club in Larkins. In the year 1925, the Dorn brothers built the Riviera Theatre. In the year 1926, the residents of Larkins became incorporated and changed the booming town into the name of 'Town of South Miami,' very original." He chuckled.

Hardy read the laptop with the information and then looked down to see the female. "Her parents are second generation Cubans, living here within the town of South Miami. She is a pretty girl with a head of long black hair, an olive complexion, and body type of average height."

Loree stared down at the dead female with a stern face. "English is the first language of South Miami, where it is spoken by sixty percent of the residents. Spanish is spoken second at thirty-seven percent. And French residents speak the language of love, making up a little over one percent of the total population in the little town of South Miami. The Cuban population accounts for twenty percent of the residents here. There are Nicaraguan and Colombian people here that make up over two percent. And South Miami is the location of the Mexico Consulate here in Florida."

"She looks dead less than twenty-four hours that means she was murdered sometime, last night after dinner or so. But the forensic team can verify the death information. So she was murdered last night on June ninth. I don't see any forced entrance, such like, a broken window or busted down door, either." Hardy turned and frowned at the windows and the door.

Loree turned and scanned the room with a laugh. "Probably, an angry boyfriend, it's always the murderer with the front door key inside the back of his Bermuda shorts."

She back stepped and closed up the laptop with a nod and a stern face. "There, I have inputted all of our observations, assumptions, and recommendations for a couple of the junior detectives to investigate and follow up on with the bank, the parents, and the bookies of the horse races. This group of newbie officers is doing a good job, so we can enjoy the morning. Let's go and get some hot coffee and a tray of donuts while we wait on the official report, coming around lunchtime." Hardy stood upright with a nod and a smile, moving ahead toward the uniform police officer, extending the borrowed laptop. "Here, we finished our examination and loaded the laptop with our observations. You can take this to the detective pool please for further analysis."

Loree moved ahead and pulled up beside his partner Hardy with a stern face and a nod. "You can bring inside the forensic team to dust the place for prints."

"Yes sir," the police officer motioned with a hand and a nod to the team members. A new team wore a set of personal protective equipment in the color of yellow, entering the room, scooting around the furniture.

Hardy and Loree exited from the house and stood on the front porch. Hardy exhaled with a puff of work. "Who else was murdered this morning? Who is the next stop on our long list of dead people?"

Loree reached and pulled out the mobile telephone, scanning the work assignment.

Inside the living room, a male voice yelled at the back spine on the detectives. "Detectives, could you come back into the room? I have a question."

Hardy and Loree, both the detectives spun around together with a puzzled brow, moving back into the house again and stopped beside the oversized chair. Hardy frowned at the forensic leader, "Yes, what is your question?"

The forensic leader pointed down at the object with a confused brow. "Did you see the ballet shoe?"

Hardy frowned at the object. "It is a worn and torn ballet shoe."

"The ballet shoe was inside her cupped hand."

Hardy exhaled. "She was a ballerina. Look over to the wall. There is a ton of ballet gear here. She was talking about her career as a ballerina, before she was attacked and murdered."

The forensic leader nodded with a stern face to Hardy. "Yes, I concluded that, too. Do you find it weird that she was using a ballet shoe as a weapon while she was being attacked?"

Loree laughed. "This is Miami, a hot sizzling place of weird-o."

Hardy exhaled. "No, I do not find it weird. The murderer was a foe that posed a friend. She was comfortable around her friend that really was a foe, since no of the windows or broken or the door isn't busted. We find the friend. We find a murderer. You, go and do your thing and find all the fingerprints of the foe. Then, we all can close this case." She swung around with a sour frown, exiting the house.

9:12 a.m.

Limousine ride east on Kendall Drive

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

"Austin, gawd, you look like shit." Frank stared with a worried brow at Austin.

Tom turned and sniffed on the body of Austin, sitting beside him on the limousine bench. "Don't smell shitty. You smell nice. New cologne?"

He smiled at Tom. "Thanks for the compliment, Tom." Austin turned and sneered at Mangrove. "The insult, Frank."

Frank narrowed his eyelids and studied Austin. "Are you not slumbering peacefully, Austin? I did notice the dark bags underneath your two eyeballs."

Austin yawned and rubbed a tired face, "Not very well! I awoke at two-thirty this morning and then drifted off into a light sleep."

"Guilt trip." Tom looked down with a smile and silently read the brand new science fiction glossy covered magazine inside the limousine ride.

"What the hell does that mean, Tom?" Stu turned and frowned to Tom, who was sitting across from Mangrove.

Frank turned with a stern face to see each brother. "We are all experiencing guilt about Cliffy, Clifford, and Marge. This is a natural reaction to death and the death of loved ones."

"Are you feeling guilt, Tom?" Stu turned and smirked to Tom.

"Hell no." Tom flipped to the next page with a smile.

"Tom's a lawyer. They have no souls, Stu." Frank turned and smirked to Stu.

Stu chuckled, "O. I forgot. Thanks for correcting me, Franklin."

"Shut up, Frank." Tom flipped to the next page with a sour frown.

"Are any of you having trouble sleeping?" Austin turned with a stern face to see Frank and Stu while hoping for a positive answer.

"I sleep like a fucking baby." Tom read the magazine with a smile.

"No." Frank narrowed the eyelids at Austin, studying the stained facial expressions and tense body movements for any more signs of stress, distress, and danger.

Stu exhaled. "I feel guilt. But, it is not affecting my sleep habits. Gracie would have noticed, if I was disturbing her rest."

Frank exhaled with a huff of worry. "Austin, I have a bottle of tranquilizers inside my medical kit which is inside the trunk. I'll give you a few pills for tonight. Take one before bed! I guarantee that you will sleep like a fucking baby," smirking.

"You can give me the pills. But, I'll decide later, Dr. Mangrove." Austin frowned.

"Charity Hospital," Joe said via the rear speaker as the limousine slowed and then stopped at the final destination.

9:32 am

Charity Kendall Hospital

Information Technology Department

Lobby setting

The Quartet exited out from the limousine and moved ahead, entering the second floor of the hospital building, where the information technology department was located which was the employment of the killer also. The door button sounded with a sharp buzz.

"May I help you?" An invisible body said inside the locked door of the information technology department.

Stu leaned over and smiled into the buzz box. "Quartet Associates, we are here to see IT Director Elliot Asquith, please."

Tom laughed. "Please, gawd! Stu is so gentleman-like today," he turned and frowned at the nose profile on Mangrove. "Are you copying your role model Mangrove, huh, Gage?"

"It is professional etiquette within the workplace. You should practice that concept, sometimes, Tom. Your professional etiquette smells like a green stink bug when squashed." Stu looked over behind a collar bone with a sour frown to see Tom.

He slapped the chest with a smile and a nod. "I use my professional etiquette, qualifying your biological analogy only to emit an unpleasant odor to repel all predators from my clients and myself. Thank you very much." Tom laughed.

"Enough, pups!" Austin stood behind the back spines of the three brothers while feeling tense and hearing the quarrel. The three pups were hyped for the kill today.

The door opened.

A short blonde receptionist appeared inside the archway with a smile and a nod to each Quartet. "Gentlemen, you are expected. Please follow me!" She spun around with a stern face and led the Quartet down a super quiet hallway toward a closed door on the side of the wall.

The office door opened.

The business office did not show a set of viewing windows but a wall of metal filing cabinets, numerous stacks of computer printouts, one desk, and one man. The man rudely looked down with a stern face to see a green colored barred line computer printout, ignoring the Quartet.

A tall female stood in front of a row of sitting chairs, extending a hand, saying without a smile to Austin. "Mr. Berrington, I'm Tara Hoyle from the Charity human resources department. I'm here to observe and answer any of your questions that Mr. Asquith cannot. Please sit down in any chair, gentlemen."

Austin moved ahead and sat down in the first chair. Frank, Stu, and finally Tom moved ahead and sat down, occupying the rest of the chairs. Tara stood behind the hair roots on Frank, staring the bald spot of the director of the IT department.

"I have three interviews, today. What do you want?" Asquith hid behind a tall stack of computer printouts with a sour frown without looking up to see the Quartet.

"Nice fellow." Tom tapped on a cross kneecap with a sour frown and scanned the crowded room of numerous computer printouts.

Stu leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom as he was the voluntary babysitter of the day, who would monitor Sawyer's irrational silly behavior on a non-business trip. "Shut the fuck up, Tom."

Frank stared with a nod and a grin at the bald spot on the skull of the director of IT. "We are inquiring and collecting any available information about your employee named Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell."

"Katt." Asquith looked up with a sour frown to see Frank. "Her nickname fits her to a 'T'. She was quiet and small like a kitty cat. Who are you, again?" Of course, he knew the Quartet by both reputation and appearance. However, he was not in the mood to entertain the four "Quartet Assholes" at the moment.

Tara frowned. "These gentlemen are investigating the Cliff Burton incident."

"Do you suspect Katt?" Asquith turned and frowned at Austin, who was the head Quartet Asshole.

Frank smiled to Asquith. "We suspect everyone. Her name popped up in our investigation."

He exhaled with a huff of annoyance at the Quartet Assholes. "Well, I don't understand how. That's impossible. Popped up from where? Police report? FBI search? Homeland Security? Explain?"

Tara frowned. "Elliot, please answer their direct questions, so you can get back to work."

"What is her position inside the IT department, please?" Frank smiled.

"Unemployed." Asquith frowned.

"She's gone." Austin parted the lips.

"Guilty." Tom nodded with giggle and tapped on the one kneecap.

Stu leaned over with a sneer to Tom as the babysitter. "Shut the fuck up, Tom."

"Miss Kattrell has left the hospital." Asquith frowned, electing not to share any more added datum with the Quartet Assholes. He knew these men, their monies, and their mocking. And he was not pleased that they sat with a smug facial expression inside his office chairs, interviewing, searching, and scratching like a cat inside his litter box.

His employee Katt was a very sweet shy girl, who had left her IT job like the other thirty-one former IT employees. They were seeking a new employment job position and a safer work environment from a mysterious killer, who was stalking the pink painted walls of Charity Kendall Hospital. The supermen and women of Charity Healthcare System were not doing anything to correct the dangerous situation for their employees, their physicians, and their patients.

"Left?" Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration. "You mean to say that she has resigned her job posting here at Charity Kendall Hospital."

"Everyone's quitting. Everyone's scared. Everyone's leaving the hospital, their jobs and maybe the city of Miami. I got VIP work to do. Thank you for occupying my valuable time." Asquith looked down with a sour frown to see the computer printouts, dismissing the nosy billionaire brothers.

"Thank you, Mr. Asquith." Austin stood upright from the chair and extended a handshake over the computer printouts like a South Florida gentleman.

Asquith ignored the professional gesture with a sour frown and studied the printouts. "Not welcome," exhaling with a huff of annoyance.

"Thank you, Elliot," Stu stood upright from the chair with a sour frown. Asquith was usually a nice person and a good worker with his shared computer assignments of all the Charity Hospital data with Quartet Associates.

"Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Asquith." Frank stood upright from the chair and turned to the side, moving toward the closed archway.

"Nice fellow." Tom stood upright from the chair, turning to the side, leaving the office first. "Not," giggling.

Stu turned and pulled beside Tom, whispering. "Shut the fuck up, Tom." He shoved Tom down the hallway to the main door of the IT department, working as the babysitter of the day.

Tara led the Quartet out of the IT division.

Tom moved into the public hallway and stopped, standing next to Austin. "What's his problem?"

Tara turned and frowned at Tom, "Empty chairs."

"Empty chairs?" Tom turned and grinned at Tara.

"Terms." She nodded.

"Terms?" Tom grinned.

"Terminations of Charity employees," Tara turned and frowned at Austin.

Austin exhaled. "I am very sorry."

Tara frowned. "You should be. You caused all the trouble."

Austin exhaled. "I apologize, again."

Tara exhaled with a puff of frustration with a stern face. "The hospital is writing termination notices and paying out money checks on a daily basis. We have HR desks and personnel set up inside the educational auditorium for any employee uncomfortable with the current set of clinical circumstances. If you want to leave, then you join a line. The payroll calculates your hours and your base pay on that day and then manually writes you a check for the past two weeks. You are free. You have your pay check for the week. You are gone from the Charity Healthcare System."

"I am sorry." Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance and apologized for his goal of justice for his godson and his revenge for Jefferson. However, his justice had affected the good hard working people of Charity Healthcare System. He asked with a stern face. "Can we inquire about a forwarding address for Miss Kattrell?"

Tara frowned. "The procedure is not required for her final paycheck. But I can look at the current payroll records, since all paperwork hasn't been updated into the HR computer database. There is too much paperwork. The payroll clerks are stacking the terminated employees and processing their paychecks, so they need the documents to balance the payroll general ledger."

"Improper accounting?" Frank gasped.

Tara exhaled with a puff of frustration. "It is more like a newly creative accounting process with some many employee terminations."

Austin turned and nodded to Frank with a new order. "Wait for me outside. I will accompany Miss Hoyle to the HR department office for any additional information in regard to the former employee Miss Kattrell."

Frank nodded in silence to Austin and turned, leading his brothers back toward the limousine.

"Of course, Austin," Stu nodded and turned, following behind the back spine on Frank.

"Sure thing," Tom smiled and turned, marching behind the back spines of Frank and Stu toward an open elevator.

9:48 am

Human Resources Department

Lobby setting

Austin followed behind the back spine on Tara into the reception space.

She stopped and swung around with a sour frown to Austin, pointing down to the sitting chair, "Please sit, sir. I will retrieve the data that you have requested." She left the reception space.

Austin stood in silence, since he no longer held an assigned seat on the super board of directors Charity Healthcare System. Therefore, he could not enter into the private property of the hospital campus or other hospital departments like before.

"Thank you so much, Miss Hoyle." Austin nodded with a stern face to the closing door that led into the inner hallway of the human resource department.

Normally, women purred, flirted, and grinned for his undivided attention.

But Miss Hoyle appeared tired in an ugly face with a sloppy penned up brown bun. Her wrinkled brown business suit told a story of a heavy work load day with long hours as the full time Charity employees left the Charity Healthcare System and probably the city of Miami for other jobs within the Sunshine State. The employees were abandoning a good job that was a requirement for good care of numerous sick patients like his godson Cliffy.

Tara rushed back through the archway into the reception space to Austin, stopping and stood, handing two papers. "A copy of the W-2 form with her current address and her insurance card without a benefactor."

"Can we please interview her IT co-workers in regard to Miss Kattrell's social background?" Austin accepted the documents with a stern face.

Tara shook her curls with a sour frown. "Not unless, you get a search warrant from God Almighty, Himself, and that directive comes directly down from the throne room upstairs."

Austin nodded with a fake smile. "You have been very helpful to the Quartet. Thank you, Miss Hoyle."

Tara swung around to see the interior door, leaving Austin, without a goodbye greeting.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration and slowly turned, moving out the human resource department toward the elevators, alone.

10:13 am

Limousine ride west on Kendall Drive

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Inside the Quartet limousine, "Any luck." Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Austin.

Austin slid his ass between the open door and Tom with a stern face. "No." He handed Frank the papers and pressed the button, closing the limousine door.

"We should conduct and complete our investigation by interviewing her numerous co-workers. They might be able to provide some of her deeper insights and evil intentions of a girl nicknamed, Katt." Stu nodded with a stern face.

"Jefferson." Austin frowned to Stu.

"Interfering bastard," Tom shook his bangs and stared with sour frown at Austin.

"This is his hospital and his murder case. Why's he so fucking stubborn?" Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration.

"Ego." Austin said.

Frank smirked. "Deflate that thing." Stu nodded in silence.

"Got a knife." Tom chuckled.

Stu grinned, "Let's do something..."

"Let's eat." Tom reached down and patted his stomach with a smile. "I'm hunger."

"The boy's always hunger." Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

Austin nodded with a smile. "Good idea, Tom. During lunch we will regroup, form a new strategy. We need warrants."

"How many? Who for? What locations?" Tom said with a nod and a smile.

"All of them." Austin ordered with a smile.

"Making a list," Stu sung in his bass drum with a grin to Frank.

"Checking it, twice." Frank sung in his tenor saxophone with a grin to Tom.

"Going to find out who's naughty or nice?" Tom sung in his trumpet saxophone with a grin to Austin.

"Salvation..." Austin sung in his baritone trombone with a smile.

"...is coming to town." The Quartet sung in a sweet harmony and then laughed their asses off for brotherly fun.

5:46 pm

City of Coral Gables

Quartet Associates headquarters building

Head attorney Thomas Edison Sawyer, III

33rd floor business office suit number four

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The rich and distinctive imported wood beauty of beech glowed in a bright orange as a streak of yellow sunlight gleamed through the set of undivided windows inside the business office of Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

Individual Miamians walked up and down the city street of Ponce de Leon Road, prettily admiring the city street corner pink bricked fountain base of fresh spring water which shot up into the air, coming from the tall building of the Quartet Associates headquarters. (Note: water was a premium commodity within South Florida)

Tom sat an ass inside a chair in front of a long corner office desk and ignored the undivided exposed glass windows which covered the north side of his private executive office. The east wall housed an expensive matching beech wooden conference table with a set of four unoccupied chairs. The south wall hugged a set of beautiful matching beech built-in book shelves that lined the wall with a set of unopened legal law manuals on top of the beautiful beech wooden office business cabinets, closed and locked. The row of cabinets was located near the office door which was diagonal from a set of long windows on the far side on Tom's business desk.

His desk held the newest black colored flat-panel LCD monitor on top of an adjustable stand with a set of twin audio speakers on each side. Rock and roll music flowed out from the hidden musical player of the horizontal computer tower that was built down into the bottom of the beautiful beech hand-made executive desk.

The computer monitor was decorated with a wireless sleek low-profile cordless keyboard and a gel wrist rest pad. The gel writs rest pad contoured Tom's natural curvy wrists, reducing his stress level at work. A lounging wireless mouse sat on top of the science fiction green alien-picture mouse pad. A digital dual-handset cordless telephone unit was tilted upright on its stand on the left side on Tom and his empty clean shiny executive desk.

Behind Tom, there was a mini-shredder for his important confidential papers and a wireless monochrome laser printer which was ready for action. All the electronic equipment was silent but blaring the rock and roll music.

The office door opened and admitted three men.

"How was the apartment hunting, Austin?" Tom leaned a back spine into the padded executive chair. His new leathers were propped on top of the desk and as he was reading the new science fiction glossy-covered magazine.

Each hunger and tired brother moved inside the penthouse office suite number four which belonged to Tom.

"Warrants out, Tom?" Austin veered and scooted to one of the heavy conference chairs, twisting it around to face Tom, sitting in front of the empty office desk and stared with a stern face at lazy Sawyer.

"A big fat bust." Stu veered and lifted one of the conference chairs in a hand, providing Austin with his private written notes in the other hand. Gage slammed the wood down onto the floor and sat in front of the empty office desk to face lazy-ass Tom, exhaling with a huff of frustration, wiping sweat off his brow with the handkerchief.

"What does that translate into, Stu?" Frank slid one of the chairs from the conference table over the floor, reading a copy of Gage's hand written report too and joined the brotherly line-up in front of the empty executive office desk of leisure Sawyer.

"All one-hundred-sixty-seven personally hand delivered by yours truly." Tom flipped to the next page of the magazine with a grin and a giggle at the new picture.

Stu wiped the sweat from hot day away from a neck and stared with a sour frown at the blonde hair roots on Sawyer. "You went to one-hundred and sixty-seven house locations, Tom?" He turned with a stern face to see Frank. "Four of the apartment offices were burned down into the sandy ground which was followed by a mystery water flood in three other different apartments building, and a gas exposure in each one of the remaining apartments on that listing that Austin provided." He shook the sweat from the cloth of a hot and humid day in Miami, Florida.

"Hell, no! I hand delivered all the one-hundred-sixty-seven envelopes directly to Jefferson." Tom giggled at the new photograph inside the magazine.

Stu turned and frowned at lazy-ass Sawyer, exhaling with a huff of annoyance. "That's all you did today, Tom."

"Well, I got the district judge to sign the group warrant first and then I delivered them to Jefferson." Tom flipped to a new page with a grin and a giggle at the silly picture, ignoring his tired, hungry, and pissed off brothers.

"Sabotage, me thinks." Austin read and tapped on the summary report from Stu. "Frank?"

"Me, too." Frank held up his papers near a smile. "My homework assignment is finished, too, teacher. I visited the local IRS office and requested all copies of Miss Kattrell's tax forms. She pays her taxes on time. I had the IRS agent calculate three of the calendar years. Perfect. Then I visited her local bank that revealed one deactivated checking account which totaled 317,692.16 dollars."

"Shit, you are joking me, Frank." Tom looked up with a sour frown to see Frank.

Frank turned and frowned to Tom, "I'm not shitting you, Thomas."

Stu shook his bald skull and stared with a stern face at lazy-ass Tom. "Unbelievable. The DMV showed the same address as her W-2 with no tickets or citations against her. She's clean. No warrants. No arrests."

Tom rotated a set of neck muscles for a quick exercise of tight muscles, looking back down with a smile to see the magazine, clicking his leathers together over the desk surface. "Please, do not tell me that she is an upstanding citizen. I'll puke neon green shitty mouth vomit," giggling.

"I think that I might need to puke onto Tom's shiny clean floor." Stu chuckled.

Tom plopped his leathers down to the floor and sat upright with a sour frown, jabbing a finger at Gage. "Hey, man. Do not...anyone...fuckingly think about green shitty puking inside my clean executive office. Go to the fucking clean-smelling executive bathroom, man."

"I think that I'm going to be sick with lots of neon green shitty fucking puck, Tom." Frank reached down and grabbed the abdomen with both hands, leaning forward from the chair, bowing a chin down into his chest, huffing for fun. Stu snorted. Austin grinned.

Tom parted his lips, standing upright with a sour frown and pointing at the closed door. "Go to the john, Frank, now."

Frank sat upright with a smile and slammed a back spine into the chair with a chuckle at Tom.

Tom sat back down with a sour frown and placed the magazine on top of the desk, reading the article, ignoring his three asshole brothers.

"I wanna to be a lawyer." Stu stared with a smile at the blonde hair roots on Tom.

Tom read the magazine. "Jefferson wasn't happy about the warrants, Austin," he viewed Gage with a puzzled brow. "That's my job, Stu."

"Not surprised there." Frank stared at Tom and shook a skull. "You don't want to be Tom, ever."

"I didn't really care." Austin looked with a stern face to study Frank's hand written report.

"Jefferson has got himself a set of twin body guards, too." Tom looked down with grin and a giggle at the magazine picture.

"I'm shocked." Austin continued to read the report.

"About the fuckingly body guards?" Tom looked up with a sour frown to see the black hair roots on Austin.

"The office apartments, Tom." Austin read the report.

Frank smiled. "Tom's an asshole."

Tom turned and frowned to Frank. "Watch it there, asshole Frank. That hurt my gawd dawn fucking feelings."

"Katt is covering her tracks." Austin viewed handwritten report from Stu, showing the office buildings destruction of her ten previous living residences of ten different apartment complexes.

"Tom, you ain't got no feelings." Frank grinned to Sawyer.

"Jefferson's furious with us." Tom exposed a tongue and wiggled it at Frank.

"Where do you think she is plotting her next murder?" Stu watched Tom and Frank entertain him like a pair of two high school fools.

"Another city in Florida?" Austin tapped a leather on the floor in a secret song inside his skull.

Frank nodded with a smile to Tom. "Tell Jefferson to get in line? Please, relay that message to him personally, Tom. Since, you will be seeing him, again."

"We should have anticipated this." Austin turned and nodded with a stern face to Stu.

"Anticipated Jefferson, for what?" Tom turned and frowned at Austin.

Stu turned and frowned to Tom and then Austin, "Not Jefferson, asshole! We still don't know Katt's next planned attack, Austin."

"Don't call her that?" Austin frowned.

"Attack, on whom?" Tom smiled.

"Who?" Frank said.

"Call her, what?" Stu said.

"Katt." Austin said.

"Who?" Frank said.

"Katt attacked, fucking whom." Tom frowned.

"Who?" Frank said.

"The word sounds cute and playful." Austin said.

"Who ain't fucking cute and playful, Austin?" Tom said.

"No one has been attacked." Frank said.

"Well she ain't cute and playful." Stu said.

"Yet?" Tom said.

"She's deadly." Frank nodded.

"Who?" Tom frowned.

"She's a monster." Stu nodded.

"She's dead." Austin nodded.

"Damn straight and proud of it, too," Frank nodded with a smile.

"Whom is a fucking ass deadly dead monster?" Tom frowned to each brother.

"Slap him, Stu!" Frank smiled at Tom.

Stu stood upright from the chair and leaned over the office desk surface. Sawyer sat back with a gasp and then dived down underneath the office, landing down on top of the polished wood floor, resting on both kneecaps. Stu swung an arm with a swishing sound too late. Tom laughed underneath the office furniture. "You missed me, Big Man."

Stu scooted ahead the executive office desk, stopping and standing behind the desk. Tom was squatting on the floor like he was shitting inside his briefs. Gage leaped down on top on Tom for fun. Then Tom was squashed like a bug underneath the heavy elephant bulk of Stu for fun. Gage didn't really harm him, just made Tom really shit inside his sissy panties.

Frank and Austin grinned at the silly performance of the two brothers.

Tom whined out loud. "Ouch! Austin!" And then Frank, Stu, and Austin laughed their asses off.

6:38 pm

Miami Airport

(nine miles west of Coral Beach)

Hot sizzling temperatures with bright sunshine

Private business jet cabin setting

Inside the cabin of the private jet plane, "I don't like him." Frank sat at the window seat, enjoying the pretty clouds and baby blue skyline, waiting for the take-off flight from Miami, Florida. The Quartet was traveling to the city of Pensacola which was located in the northern part of the Sunshine State.

"Who?" Tom dropped the ice cubes down into the glass tumbler and stood upright at the beverage bar with a confused brow, wearing a neon blue silk cape. The cape was tied in a big loopy bow around his tender pale-tinted neckline and flowed straight down toward the floor, displaying a one-foot train that covered the center on Tom's casual clothes.

"Get seated, Tom! We're taxiing." Stu shut down the laptop and sat inside his assigned seat on the private jet plane.

"I am. I'm getting a drink. My nerves are shot." Tom stirred the alcohol mixture with a finger and then lifted it up, licking the wet finger pad clean while wiggling the silk cape around his collar bone.

"Join the club." Austin sat inside his assigned window seat, viewing the pretty clouds and blue skyline too.

"What club?" Tom gulped and swallowed the beverage there at the beverage bar with a smile still wiggling the silk cape around his body.

"Sit down, Tom!" Stu stared at the neon blue silk cape that covered the upper body, lower leg, and tiny ass on Tom and then sipped, swallowing the bottled water with confusion.

"I don't trust him." Frank nodded to Austin, who sat on the opposite side of the row.

"Who?" Tom added the strawberries down into the bourbon with a smile still wiggling the silk cape around his skinny and tall mature adult body.

"You sound like an owl, Thomas." Stu chuckled. "And sit down, right now, Tom!"

Tom slowly spun around with a grin and a giggle and as the silk cape flew through the air, hitting the beverage bar, "Who? Who? Who?" He flapped an arm and slowly moved ahead dragging the silk cape over the wooden floor, moving ahead toward his assigned seat on the plane, which was across from Gage. He continued to sip his bourbon beverage. Stu sat next to Austin. Austin silently watched with a stern face the neon blue ankle-length cape as Tom stepped on the long fabric train, tumbling to the side and then smoothly recovered with a giggle and a grin, slowly approaching his airplane seat.

"Ethan Allan Underhill." Frank frowned and watched the silk cape drag over the floor also.

Tom stopped and sipped his bourbon drink. Then he slowly moved ahead and flipped a hand near his smile. "He's a fake phony baloney. Forget him!" He stopped in front of his assigned airplane seat and reached down, gathering the long fabric train on the neon blue silk cape with the free hand, sitting down with a smile. He flipped the free hand with the fabric into the air and as the long, neon colored silk gently glided to the side like a kingly robe. He sipped and swallowed the smooth bourbon beverage with smile.

Stu unbelted his body and then swiftly stood upright from the chair, leaning over, jerking the set of safety belts from the side on Tom's airplane chair. He belted Sawyer into the assigned seat for brotherly love, one. Two, so, Tom did not roam around the jet, too much and too many times. Three, so, Sawyer did not play with all the delicate and expensive electronic gadgets that were electronic toys inside Tom's childish mind set. Then, Stu sat back down with a stern face and belted back into his assigned seat on their shared Quartet Associates private jet plane, staring at the long, neon blue ankle-length cape. "What in the fuck are you wearing, Tom?" He finally laughed at the stupid question and the stupider brother.

Tom reached down and tenderly slapped his new pair of dark colored blue jean on the upper leg with a smile. "My attire is causal, like my three brothers. I have selected a new pair of dark colored blue jeans and a nice yellow tinted shirt..."

"No! Why are wearing a bright, neon blue colored silk cape, Tom? The fucking cape clashes with your yellow shirt, too," Frank laughed with Austin and Stu.

Tom reached down with a sour frown and touched, rubbing the soft fabric, nodding with a smile, "I know that you are so jealous that I possess good taste, which is an inherited trait, not coming from any of my three blood-related brothers..."

"Get to point with the sissy cape, Tom!" Austin growled.

Tom exhaled with annoyance. "All of a goddamn sudden, I find out that we, four are a set of awesomely red, white, and blue..."

"USA!" Stu shouted out loud with a smile

"USA!" Frank shouted out loud with a grin.

"USA!" Austin smiled at Tom.

Tom exhaled with frustration. "All of a goddamn sudden, I find out that we, four are a set of awesomely red, white, and blue..." He lifted his free hand near his sour frown. "And if you shout out again and interrupt my speech, then I'll start all over from the beginning." He smiled. "We, four are a set of red, white, and blue shitty crime fighters." He nodded several times and then sipped the beverage.

Silence invaded the air waves.

"What in the fuck does that statement even mean, Tom?" Stu sipped and swallowed the water, turning to stare at Frank. "What does Tom statement mean, Frank?"

Frank smiled at Tom. "Thomas is a really weird asshole," he laughed with Austin and Stu.

Tom gasped in shock and lifted up, shaking the cape near his frown. "No. No. No. I am a goddamn crime fighter like shit ass Superman. Superman always wears a shitty flowing cape when he fuckingly fights the set of badass guys. So, I am wearing my fuckingly fighting cape in neon blue, when I fight off all the badass guys also. What colored cape do ya'll guys wanna wear? I got the awesome fucking color of sky blue. So, you gotta pick a different hue."

"Huh! I do not wear hue over my two collar bones." Stu laughed with Frank and Austin.

Frank exhaled with annoyance. "Tom, we are four billionaires of business, not a four fighters of crime. We do not wear a cape of silk. We wear a cloth of wool. You look ridicule sitting over there in your assigned airplane seat wrapped in silk like a bridesmaid. When we land the jet, you will remove that silky cape and store it someplace else that my Ghost will not see," he laughed with Stu and Austin.

Tom gasped in alarm and lifted more of the cape near his cheekbone, caressing the soft fabric. "How dare you threaten a piece of fucking cloth, Frank? My goddamn cape is innocent and pretty. You're ugly and a meanie, Franklin."

Stu slapped his chest. "No. I'm the meanie here. Frank is my scout."

Tom turned and frowned at Gage. "What in the hell does that mean, Stu?"

Stu slaps his chest again and then points at Tom. "When Frank scouts something that needs to be fixed or adjusted or stored or shot, immediately, he warns the thing and then informs me. Then I do my thing!" He laughed with Austin and Frank.

"What fucking thing! You do not possess a fucking thing! Austin possess the fucking thing. Everyone knows that he kills with his naked..."

"Ghost! Yes, we all carry around a naked Ghost that kills everyone and everyone thing that pisses us off, Tom." Frank exhaled with annoyance. "However, you are the current subject of the hot, heated, and unsexy discussion right now."

"I transfer my 'fucking thing' to Stu as my backup authority, when I'm busy with a flame, Tom." Austin said with a stern face. Frank and Stu laughed.

Tom tossed down the fabric from his hand with a sour frown. "Fine! I hear and I obey. I'll remove the cape, after we land the plane. Is everyone shitting out happy turds now?"

"Good plan, Tom!" Austin turned and nodded to his other brother. "Frank, you're on."

Tom raised a palm in the air with a confused brow at Austin. "Wait! We're talking business. This is a trip to. Where are we going to again?" He sipped and swallowed the bourbon with a smile.

"We are flying into Pensacola, Florida." Stu felt the rumble of the jet engines on take-off.

"Yeah, we're going to the home of the Air Force Blue Angels, man! Can we go and see an air show, Frank?" Tom waved both hands in the air with the beverage with a nod and a smile of excitement.

Frank unbelted the safety belt and reached out, grabbing the wave arm with the drink from Tom, removing the tumbler from the hand of Sawyer and sat back down with a sour frown. The jet launched into the skyline.

"We're searching for the killer. Do you remember, Tom?" Stu chuckled at silly ass Sawyer.

Tom nodded with a smile. "Know that. Can't we see a short show, Austin? I like the jet fighters when they fly upside down. Vroom! Zoom!" Tom flew both hands up into the air and peeled to the right, then to the left, making a set of childish lip buzzing sounds.

"Stu," Austin exhaled and heard a sharp slap sound.

Tom cuddled the slapped bicep with a sad pout into the chest. "Hey! That hurts," he stood upright from the chair and leaned over, grabbing the bourbon beverage from Frank, shifting across the aisle towards a new window seat.

"Back to business, Tom! We will work until this murderess case is completed solved and closed." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at silly Sawyer.

Tom stood in front of the new chair and jabbed a finger with a sour frown at the nose profile on Gage, "Next time, just yell at me. That's less abusive, Stu. You got a powerful punch there, Big Man." He looked down with a sad face to see the suit jacket, where the injury ached but was not showing a bloody limb. "Going to have huge ugly black and blue marks tomorrow on my arm, Big Man," he looked up with a sour frown to see to Gage again. "If you hit me again, I'm telling..."

Stu unbelted the webbing and rose upward from the chair, holding the water bottle in a right punching fist, since he could use a left powerful fist to actually beat the shit of Sawyer, who was threatening a tattle tale to his precious wife Gracie for Tom's sissy-ass behavior. He stepped forward with a sneer. "Stu," Austin exhaled with a puff of annoyance at his brothers. Stu halted with a grunt and back stepped, sitting down back into his assigned seat, staring with a growl at Tom.

Frank cleared a throat for attention. "I did my own in-depth research on the other mysterious cases that Ethan just happened to find."

Stu turned and frowned at Frank. "Didn't you mean that he just happened to pull out of his ass? Where did Underhill get these timed sensitive informational files?"

Frank smiled. "He has been collecting murder files for decades. This is one of his personal hobbies."

"Sick." Tom sipped and swallowed the drink with a stern face.

"In this case, I would whole-heartedly agree. This new physical location might be the link we're seeking to connect Kattleen Kattrell and the Charity Hospital murders plus the mysterious nursing home medical death cases. Then, we would have the hard core evidence of her mass murderess crimes." Stu nodded.

"I thought that we had enough evidence. Don't 8,063 cases count for something?" Tom lifted up and wiggled the leathers into the air from the floor for fun.

Stu held the three finger pads in the air near a frown and touched each one. "Motive. Intent. Weapon. Do those legal terms mean anything to you, Thomas?" Sawyer smiled and then sipped, swallowing the beverage. Gage nodded. "It means legally that we do not have a case against her, unless we find the connection and the missing mysterious Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, who possesses a mysterious disease that she caused or created."

Frank turned and nodded to each brother. "We're going to visit with Daniel Wingo, MD, who is a retired physician, currently living in the city of Pensacola. He is the former chief medical officer of the closed down Boyer Nursing Home in the rural town of Boyer, Florida. Ethan's medical files indicated that exactly 1,492 elder patients died with a strange mysterious virus, which was three years, before our mysterious virus comprising a ten-year time frame."

"So?" Tom sipped the drink.

Frank said. "For comparison of a statistical analysis, the nursing home in the small city of Boyer, Florida fourteen years ago lost four patients per month which was about forty-eight patients per year..."

"They're old. They die. So what?" Tom sipped the bourbon.

Frank said. "The average percentage death rate was twelve percent which was twelve years ago, but it jumped to sixty percent in the next year. The numeric figured indicated that the Boyer Nursing Home was filled with thirty-three patients and then suddenly twenty elder persons started to die each week."

"Jeezus H. Christ," Tom parted his lips. "Did the local ME or the coroner's office get fucking kitty-cat curious?"

Frank shook his skull. "No one did. That's the problem, Tom. The Boyer Nursing Home closed about eleven years ago. During that year the facility was licensed for thirty-three nursing home beds with an occupancy rate of ten percent which employed a reduced staff of precisely nine. The nine employees were nurses, recreational directors, cleaning service personnel plus the Boyer Nursing Home lost 839,494.52 dollars in revenue monies. However, I find intriguing that Dr. Wingo was paid his contracted salary monies of 140,000 dollars as CMO..."

"CMO?" Tom asked.

"Chief Medical Officer." Frank said. "Twelve years ago, the Boyer Nursing Home was at a hundred percent occupation rate which made 2,113,180.14 dollars in pure profit. The home paid out to a clinical staff of nineteen along with the 780,000 dollars' salary to Wingo and recorded a death rate of eight five percent."

"Fuck. Ya don't live too old age in Boyer, Florida," chuckled Tom.

Franks frowned to Tom, "It's not the town, asshole. I was pointing out that the Boyer Nursing Home was somehow, way, why, who, and what was killing off their healthy paying residents for the money."

Tom frowned. "Why don't you just tell me that instead of spouting off these great big math numbers in the air waves while clogging up my sensitive hearing?"

Frank said. "Thirteen years ago, the Boyer Nursing Home was again at ninety-eight percent occupation..."

"Is that really gawd damn important to me, Frank?" Tom frowned. "No. It is not."

"Very gawd damn important, Thomas. Not all nursing homes stay full mostly due to illness, lack of money, and lack of healthy patients. As I was saying, thirteen years ago, the home was at ninety-eight percent occupancy rate. The owner had cleared 3,098,208.44 dollars in pure profit into his business bank account..."

"We clear a shit load more than that, Frank. And we ain't being investigated by the FBI, CIA, MDPD..."

"Stu," Frank frowned to Tom.

Stu stood with his closed laptop in his right punching hand as his left hand was folded into a fist for a brief but powerful injury to a silly-ass brother.

Tom slowly leaped from his chair, holding his bourbon in his left hand, rotating his folded fist, saying with a growl, "Back off, Stuart."

"Sit down and be quiet, Tom." Austin watched silly-ass Sawyer.

Tom stilled and stared at Austin, turning and fetching some food at the beverage bar.

Frank said to his other brothers. "Twelve years ago, the business staff consisted of nineteen along with Dr. Wingo who was being paid 572,000 dollars for his CMO duties. The death rate was listed as ninety-one percent. Now, if we go back..."

"Do ya really have too?" Tom reseated with a refreshed drink and a small plate of food.

Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration and viewed Austin. "Fourteen years ago, the Boyer Nursing Home held an occupancy rate of sixty percent. This is a national standard for overall nursing homes in the US. The Boyer Nursing Home made a meager 373,854.56 dollars in profit which is well below the average for a small nursing home that pay a business staff of nine and without a CMO salary expense. The death rate was at twelve percent and holding for the entire calendar. All this data is based on the IRS tax forms and internal financial records that I received from our lovely US Federal Government..."

"Before or after the bribe," Stu typed on his laptop, chuckling.

Tom chewed, viewing Frank, "Ya quoted all that number shit from memory, Frank."

Stu typed. "Thanks, Frank. I'm impressed."

Tom shot food particles in the air, "You're always impressed Stu even when Frank burps. You, two are pals through thick shit and thin diarrhea dookie."

Stu turned and viewed Tom. "Ya know you are right, Thomas. His burps do smell better than yours. I guess that makes him my very bestest friend in the whole entire fucking universe, instead of your asshole arrogant shitless self," he chuckled with Austin and Frank.

Tom shot food particles in the air. "Cute remark. I remember Franklin as the chatty one in our band. He always got these yellow slips for misconduct in middle school that had to be sent home for signing by his parents," he laughed, spitting out more food.

Stu smiled to Tom. "Nice try, Thomas. That was you that got all them yellow slips of paper for misconduct. And you would forge Aunt Martha's name on the bottom in a black ink pen. You were really good at forgeries, Sawyer. You could start a new company, if you lose this VIP murderess case, ruining your spotless legal record," he chuckled with Austin and Frank.

Tom shot more food particles, jabbing a finger at Gage, "If I lose, I ain't going to lose this gawd damn vicious murderess case, Gage and..."

"Good comment, Law Man. You're on the right team. Good work, Money Man." Austin smiled. "This murderess case is important to all of us."
Friday June 11th

2:31 a.m.

City of Pensacola in US State of Florida

PENSACOLA HOTEL (683 miles northwest of Coral Beach)

Private hotel suite of Austin

Warm temperatures with bright starry night

He sat upright and stared in the darkness of the strange room with only the outside street lights illuminating the ceiling of a strange city, after he had relived the same "dream doll."

He smiled and flipped onto his stomach, drifting back to sleep.

7:06 a.m.

Hotel balcony setting

Warm temperatures with partly sunny skies

The moving vehicles drove by the hotel as the city awaken, where the natives shuttled to work, school, vacation, daycare, the grassy park, the retail shops, and to the other personal or professional places. The Pensacola Florida weather was both hot and sunny today, making for a beautiful travel day on his yacht, sailing to his beautiful island in Bahamas for fun, pleasure, and joy with his beautiful girl.

Not.

Instead, the world presented a terrible picture of life which had been dumped into the nice home of people with television shows of political corruption, business enslavement, global temperature changes, extinction of animals and plants, widespread contagious medical diseases, and one fucking crazy bitch that has murdered his godson.

Austin hated her hair roots down to her toe hails. The girl was an unidentified monster, who had murdered in cold blood without mercy his godson inside his hospital bed. Berrington's emotions were poisoning his blood, body, mind, and soul until the murderess was found, caught, and killed.

He was the known as Old Man of the Quartet and his decisions were finale and obeyed.

Austin had jetted his non-biological brothers from the cool safe comforts of Coral Beach to the laid back town of Pensacola which was a northeastern fishing port between the corners of Alabama and Florida.

The beauty of the place showed within miles of unspoiled white sugar-coated beaches. There were numerous US military bases. Basically, this place was a tourist town, where Austin was hunting a killer, a murderer, and a monster, all rolled into one.

But the murderess clues were airy and the evidence was sketchy.

However, Badass Berrington was gawd damn determined, never stopping, until that bitch paid with her red blood for Cliffy's useless murder along with the other 8,063 souls.

Austin would find her by fun or force with the same tenacious and gumption which was used by his great-grandfather of past history.

Austin vividly recalled the ancient stories told and retold by his grandfather Berrington about the rise of the Quartet during the roaring 1920's living in South Florida.

South Florida was only a hot and steamy swamp land back then. Now, it was the plush posh flowering bright pastel plants and paved gray asphalt roads of light colored concrete temples of Miamians, who worshiped the American way of life.

The four blood-bonded country brothers eagerly left the wild wilderness of crop farms and pretty forests for the wilder ways of civilized city slickers, moving by wagons, horses, and boot soles down to the southern tip of present day US State of Florida. They landed in the small growing town of Miami on their boot path way, accidentally bumping into the "Mother of Miami."

Year 1892

City of Miami in US State of Florida

Julia Deforest Tuttle was a businesswoman, a citrus farmer, and the original landowner of thousands of crop acreage in Miami. Partly for that reason, she was called the "Mother of Miami."

Austin, Tom, Stu, and Frank's great-grandfathers were called the "Fathers of Miami" for a set of different reasons.

When Frederick Tuttle died in 1886 in Ohio, Julia moved her family to the pretty salt ocean site of Biscayne Bay, where her father had purchased 640 acres of orange trees along the Miami River. Being a suave business woman, Julia recognized the need for better transportation to move the ripping crates of fresh oranges into the northern major cities of the United States.

She contacted the Florida East Coast Railroad which was owned by Henry Flagler in 1893, where she offered a physical plot of land for his desired hotel and railroad station. Julia provided the land for free, so Henry would expand his railroad tracks to the small port fishing town of West Palm Beach first. Then the railroad would eventually move into the tiny city of Miami Shores.

On April 22, 1896 the railroad train service came to South Florida, changing everyone's way of life especially for four wild-ass country boys from northern Florida.

The young ambitious four boys of the earlier Quartet enjoyed the warm weather and the numerous pretty girls as they continued to seek and search their worth among the wild gators and wilder sand dunes in Miami.

When the Quartet saw and smelled millions of tiny round fruit oranges shrinking like prunes and rotting like a nest of stink bugs in the hot and humid tropic Florida sun, the brilliant enterprising young men creatively built tall mini-rolling carts. The carts would roll into delivery wagon, transferring and transporting the ripe oranges into the train compartment which went from tree to train.

They demonstrated their unique innovated idea to Mrs. Tuttle, who decided to purchase all the mini-rolling carts and hired the young boys for the orange fruit transportation job. Thus, she helped created the first American formed company called Quartet Brothers.

As Mrs. Tuttle's business needs grew, the Quartet's pocketbooks filled with gold.

Present day and place

City of Pensacola

7:11 a.m.

Hotel balcony setting

Austin was a living product of his great-grandfather's love, support, and money in twenty first century Miami, Florida, making the same kind of executive decisions right or wrong for the youngest Band of Brothers. Austin wisely tried to seek his dad's advice first before coming to any decision that represented a life or death matter, except this murderess case.

Tom's father, Uncle Edison had already solved the murderess case single-handedly without any morsel of fact or fiction.

Frank's father, Uncle Franklin mentally pondered and analyzed all the important issues, formulating some type of medical suggestion like his son.

Stu's father, Uncle Stuart based everything within his ears and his eyes on the set of actual facts from factual reports, factual evidence, and factual people.

Austin was not going to involve his parents or his non-biological uncles in the Florida statewide manhunt either. They had their own separate lives, happily living and actively playing in West Palm Beach, Florida, a two-hour drive which was north of Miami.

This was a personal private emotional commitment for Austin to find the unknown killer of little Cliffy.

Austin mentally recalled his dad's codes of life rules, living as an earth-warrior of the world, providing simple survival messages for a surviving warrior.

Fuck girls. Fuck enemies. Love family. Enjoy money. Honor elders. Respect authority. Bend rules. Bite back. Sting hard. Give generously. Be truthful. Blame no one. Donate plenty. Help others. Play hard. Work less. Think more. Praise friends. Reward employees. Don't judge. Speak facts. No promises. Good deeds. Trust God. Love Jesus. Pray to the Holy Spirit. Seek Angels. Smile. Laugh. Have fun. Be happy.

Austin could not apply all these precious life messages to this unique mysterious situation, maybe a couple of old messages dashed across his angry mind with fucking force and fiery fury.

Fuck enemies. No promises. Bite back. Sting hard. Bend rules.

However, Austin had created a few elegantly new ones for his personal cause.

Seek revenge. Feed angry. Kill fast. Die slow. No regrets. No compassion. No compromise.

Austin was judging the killer, before the killer could be found and given a fair and impartial trial as cited by the Fifth Amendment of the US Constitution.

Don't give a damn.

His dad had warned Austin never ever judge people, family members, social backgrounds, financial records or females too quietly and quickly.

Speaking of judging, Austin hadn't seen a bare naked ass of a female, since Liz stormed out of his mansion last week.

Liz was really mad, upset, and cursing at Austin, stomping all the way to a rusty taxi cab. Joe had hailed for her exodus, after stopping Stu's driver at the second sentry gate.

Austin smiled at his brilliant and devoted employee.

Don't fucking understand, either. Austin could not figure Liz out.

She was too wrapped up in her precious little pretend princess world which made Tom correct that Liz needed a dose of world reality.

Well, Miss Harris was getting it, now.

Austin had cut off all his monies to her numerous bank accounts which were posted throughout the world, curtailing her lavish spending sprees on clothes, makeup, and trivial useless things. Austin had other goals in life rather than Lizard.

One day, Austin would discover his earth-goddess, since Tom was all the time reminding and remarking that the Quartet was a group of earth-gods on planet Earth. He understood that an earth god needed an earth-goddess to care for him which would be equally in love and respect, not a one-sided greedy slut.

Austin recalled his dad, explaining how he fell in love with his mom, describing his love signs.

Tongue tied. Sweaty palms. Watery eyes. Runny nose.

The human chemistry transformed like magic within your physical senses but did not disappear to white smoke and up into the sky clouds. When fat little cupid shots his arrow, your heart skipped a beat and your kneecaps shook and then your mind numbed. And finally, she smiled to your face and you gave a goofy grin.

His dad chuckled. "You're in love, son."

His dad told with a smile. "Mom was a lovely creature of beauty, before she spoke to me. When I saw her I immediately felt love that was thirty-three years later, Austin. And now, our chemistry still exists, today."

Austin was twelve years old, the first time he smelled the difference between a sweet girl and a nasty boy, falling in love with the female species, instantly.

However, Austin pondered the "dream doll" in his sleepy mind which had shown for the past five nights and secretly desired her. He shook his skull, coming back to the real world reality, ending his sweet daydream, blinking the bright sun from his blinded eyeballs.

This was not a love story but a demon tale.

The door sounded with a knock.

Austin moved and opened the door, viewing Stu.

Gage said with a smile and a nod. "Awake also?"

Austin nodded in silence as they spun and moved back out to the balcony for the nice day of lousy shitty work, searching for a missing mysterious murderess.

"I can't sleep. There's so much work to do and so little time to do it." Austin chuckled, sitting on the sofa. "I sound like a paid television advertisement."

Stu sat on the sofa opposite side of Austin, saying with a nod. "I feel the same way, bro. I've been pondering our strategy meeting with Wingo. Elimination is the proper term that I seek. I've noticed our newly organized team members are really hard line focused blood-sucking revengeful maggots."

"Noted." Austin turned and viewed the placid ocean, since the hotel was located on the Gulf of Mexico.

"We have to clue into the woman named Kattleen Kattrell. The other side bar characters aren't any use to us. Wingo has never left the city of Pensacola. His biggest adventure is fishing on the waters of the local bay around here. Ethan's dangerous..."

"I thought Mowran more dangerous than Ethan. He's a loud mouth opinioned old son of bitch," chuckled Austin.

"I agree. But Ethan's the slippery snake in the bathtub. Tom noticed that first."

Austin nodded. "Tom has great instincts. Is Ethan the spy we seek, Stu?"

Stu snorted. "And Dr. Kim, she wouldn't even get nominated for the Miss Plain Jane Beauty Queen. She is one damn ugly girl," he chuckled with Austin.

"And she is smart. Jefferson planted her to spy on us. She doesn't even use her pad and her pen. She watches. She listens. She records everything with her eyes and her ears."

"She should see a plastic surgery about these ears. They could give Mr. Spock a run for his money," he chuckled.

Austin smiled, "So far, we have determined our team has a mouthpiece, a spy, and a dagger. How are Frank and Tom holding up?"

"They're acting their age. It's you that I'm concerned about."

"Am I losing my edge?" Austin viewed the ocean and Stu.

"I observe you as being on the edge, Austin. You're too close, too personal. Let the other guys get personal. You need to stay centered and in center stage. Don't play the game on the side line! Ethan and Mowran are going to run the team ragged, throw for an inception, lose the yardage, and miss the rest of the game."

"I'll try to tighten my emotions, but..."

Stu shook his baldness. "This isn't easy for any one of us, bro. This is personal. This is tragic. This is war."

"War creates generals, heroes, and enemies."

"You mean Ethan and Mowran. They're hoping to develop a big bad reputation of killing monsters, except monsters really don't exist only facts and evidence. We need to first find Kattleen Kattrell and then second, the hard cold evidence to convict her as the murderess. Tom is ready to play the criminal attorney. Look, I know that Tom acts silly and talks shit, most of the time, but he knows his law game. He's waiting for us to find him the murderess. Tom will do his stuff and get a murder conviction. Frank has his physician hat on thinking that the medical side is fascinating and mysterious and intriguing. He hasn't made up his mind about who the killer is, as much as, how the killer did it. That's more evidence that we need to convict her, anyways."

"We have motive."

"Do we, Austin? Why did she kill 8,063 people? Love? Hate? Pity? Revenge? What kind of weapon did she use? I looked closely at the set of victims in my body bag row when we were on the Homestead Air base. I couldn't see with my naked eyes any bruising, marks, or cuts. How did she kill them with her mind?" Stu frowned.

Austin snorted. "You're postulating like the old priest. She used her telepathy to kill them as they slept, because she could or should. Since she is the so-called earth bound angel of death. It's her only job."

"The old priest was partly right all along. We have a real name. We don't have a motive, a weapon, or a reason."

"Once we find her, we can simply ask her that posed question. That's Tom's legal throne. He's the genius attorney. He'll figure that out. We're collecting and gathering as much data as needed to track down a girl named Kattleen Kattrell."

"Is she is a girl or a ghost?"

Austin snorted. "I'm beginning to wonder, too. We have hard copies of documents and photos but no girl. Where is she? Who is she? What is she?"

"Those questions are keeping me up at night." Stu yawned without covering his mouth and turned to see the calm ocean.

"How do keep your emotions in check, Stu?"

Stu turned with a smile to see Austin. "Don't ya know, bro? I'm the balance between the good and bad," balancing his arms.

Austin snorted. "You sound like one of the Tom's sci-fi characters."

"Ah. Don't insult? Save that for Tom." Stu laughed with Austin.

The door sounded with a knock.

"Hey, in there. Ya up? Open the damn door. Let's eat. I'm fuckingly starving to death. Hey..." Tom shouted and banged on Austin's suite door for a second time.

10:32 a.m.

PENSACOLA HOSPITAL (three miles east from the hotel)

Private business office of Daniel Barry Wingo MD

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Good morning, Dr. Wingo," the Pensacola Hospital administrator Nick Korman stood in the archway of the office, saying with a nod and smile to the physician, and side stepped, motioning with his arm to the visitors, who were huddling at Wingo's office door. Nick said. "I would like to present our distinguished guests from Miami. This is Austin Berrington, Tom Sawyer, Dr. Frank Mangrove, and Stu Gage. Dr. Peter Mowran is a licensed and practicing psychiatrist from the state of Florida governor's office. Dr. Kim Byrne is another licensed and practicing psychiatrist from the Charity Healthcare System in Miami. FBI special agent Phil Magnum is from Miami, also, and Ethan Underhill is the Miami-Dade Chief medical coroner. They are here..."

"I know why the distinguished people are here," Daniel Barry Wingo, MD stood from his office desk without smiling.

Physicians did not like their protocols examined and reexamined much less investigated and cross-examined by a group of outsiders that happened to be tracking a cold-blooded mass murderer from Miami to Pensacola. Ironically, the mysterious killer had touched the lives of people in a small town Boyer and at the Boyer Nursing Home. The nursing home happened to be close to Daniel's old doctor private practice office, where he treated patients back in those days.

Daniel had signed an agreement with the Boyer Nursing Home to examine and record deaths at the Home for the past thirteen years. No big deal. The nursing home held older people, who died on a daily basis from heart attacks, heart failure, diabetes, cancer, brain aneurysm, and other non-functioning body organs which was called old age.

Elderly people died as newborn babies lived.

Eleven years ago

City of Boyer in US State of Florida

BOYER NURSING HOME (30 miles northwest of Pensacola)

Daniel signed a legal contract with Matthews Adams Hartmann, VII performing physical examines on each guest on each month and any new patient, consisting of a vision test, a hearing test along with a test of their body's balance, coordination, and reflexes. The number one cause of death in nursing homes was bedside falls which caused both primary and secondary complications of an elder's broken bones and internal bleeding of vital organs.

The first duty of Daniel as a trusted and assigned chief medical officer for the Boyer Nursing Home was to find each patient in moderately healthy. Some patients were bedridden which entitled the patients to the benefits of personal nursing care around the daily clock.

All the patients were listed in their eighties or nineties which was well beyond the need of life, since Mr. Hartmann had enlisted like every other nursing home in the US for the occupant to sign a DNR order or do not resuscitate order. The nurses allowed the patient to wheeze slowly until death. The loved ones of the families knew this medical edit existed, since the guardians signed with a blue ink pen all the proper legal papers of documents, stating not to revive their loved one for any and all emergencies and not to revive a law suit against the owner of the Boyer Nursing Home.

Thus, the old nursing home resident simply died in his or her sleep and was found by the attending nurse the next morning as simply passing through the night into heaven.

The motto made Daniel's stomach churn into bitter bile, but he was paid to examine the guests and concluded them fit enough for daily residential housing at the Boyer Nursing Home. So Mr. Hartmann would get the monthly US Federal Government checks.

"Henry the eighth," a nickname for Mr. Matthews Adams Hartmann, VII had lost an average of five patients per month at his privately own business venture called the Boyer Nursing Home inside an area of small farms in north Florida. The dead toll was about more or less sixty residents. This was a very low average of nursing home deaths compared to the other larger nursing home in a large region of metropolitan cities throughout the United States, presently.

Then in the month of March something weird happened at the Boyer Nursing Home as the death rate jumped from an average of four out of thirty three patients which increased from twelve percent mortality to sixty percent.

Daniel was shocked to find that twenty patients had expired over the night in the small nursing home which housed a total of thirty-three residents. Wingo inquired with Henry about the sudden increases in deaths.

The owner told a far out fairy tale of some strange virus which had infected all the patients, making them cough, whizz, and then die. There wasn't anything else that each nurse on staff or his person, who was a non-clinical person, could do for each old folk, but the fairy tale story did not end there.

Daniel talked with the nurses. They verified Henry's story that there was some type of mysterious germ that killed the old people, since they were found all dead the next day with the simply passing into heaven motto, ringing into their eardrums and coming from their lips throughout the living quarters of the wards.

Wingo reported all fatalities at the nursing home to the state office in Tallahassee as required to the state agency called AQHCA (Agency of Quality and Healthcare Association). The AQHCA monitored all hospitals, nursing homes, and physician practices throughout the state of Florida. Then the AQHCA called Daniel to verify the numbers on the state report, the next morning. Wingo explained that a mysterious virus had seized the elderly residents, who were in their later years of life and there wasn't anything that could've been done medically to save them. Daniel pointed out that the family signed the DNR papers for no treatment of any emergency for legal reasons, so the AQCHA was satisfied with the doctor's response and didn't question his answers. Wingo never heard from the state of Florida agency, again, so the medical matter was closed.

Daniel was happy. Hartmann was very happy.

The deaths brought more and more new patients into Henry's personal and privately owned business Boyer Nursing Home. When a patient died, the nursing home collected the monthly government check which wasn't prorated. If a patient entered the home on February first and died that night, then Hartmann would collect 2,678.12 dollars per patient for the entire month of February. In addition to the death check, the nursing home collected 1,529.23 dollars to cover the business's monetary overhead expenses.

The overhead expenses included the paperwork for the death certificate, the cleaning of the guest's room, the disposal of the guest's body, the payment for the medical examiner, and any and all other administration fees which included vases of flowers, advertisements in the newspaper for the death announcement, the numerous telephone calls, and the numerous fax sheets to and from the offices of the hospital and coroner, the funeral home delivery's fee, and other expenses used in a time and resource management of a nursing home.

Henry was collecting 4,207.35 dollars per death in a month's calendar time frame time with four deaths. So he collected 16,829.40 dollars per dead resident. Henry had turned around an empty nursing home and filled the empty beds within a week, clearing a profit of 14,361.47 dollars for that month.

Daniel wasn't a certified public accountant of finances at the Pensacola University in Florida, but he was a smart physician. The math wasn't that hard to estimate, once you totaled the monthly US Federal Government checks.

The small isolated rural country nursing home provided a very good living for Henry and his wife Henrietta Holden Hartmann plus his only child a daughter Nell Nan Hartmann.

Daniel started out receiving five hundred dollars for the examination of a deceased resident of Boyer Nursing Home which was good compensation for Wingo. He was older at the age of fifty-nine years in a small family private physician, but his patients were reduced to mostly elderly patients. The younger set of children and teenagers wanted to see younger physicians with their spiffy motifs of live fish tanks, live pretty floral potted flowers, and the machines of live interactive computer games, and so did the parents of the spoiled brats. The X-generation of children wanted more from the physicians than prescribing the needed medicines for viruses or upset tummies, since the family wanted silly entertainment shows.

Daniel Wingo wasn't an entertainer.

The young patients visited the other more fun physicians in Pensacola, one of the largest growing cities in the northwest panhandle of Florida.

Wingo saw less and less of the children, the teens, and the younger adults but retained the sick, ill, and elderly folks, who lived around the small towns within the County of Escambia. His personal business was losing money, since his clients died of old age.

Daniel gladly accepted the extra compensation from Henry, supplementing his income and then closed the doors of his private office on the weekends and on Monday. So he could go fishing in Perdido Keys waters. His lovely wife Erin had died five years back with a bad heart as the old town folks said.

One night Erin's heart stopped, passing into heaven.

Wingo didn't care to date or find another mate as he was a happy bachelor, working the side job as the chief medical officer for Boyer Nursing Home. Henry had created a medical title on the accounting books within the nursing home for Wingo to get better compensation too.

One the first work day, Daniel was startled with twenty deaths that were explained so simple and easy with the words, old age. The two worded explanation passed into the eardrums of the coroner's office, the morgue medical examiner, the sheriff's office, the funeral home, the state agency, and most of all satisfies him. The twenty deaths paid Boyer Nursing Home, a lump sum of 84,147 dollars for the month of March, fourteen years ago.

Then, Henry paid Wingo 1,000 dollars per death which totaled 20,000 dollars. After the expenses of the removal and clean up the guest's body, Henry cleared a profit around 60,000 dollars in one month. There were workers in the Pensacola business companies that didn't make 60,000 dollars in one year, much less a month.

Then the same tragedy occurred the next week.

Fourteen years ago, the third week in March Wingo was called to Boyer Nursing Home for the examination and recording of thirty deaths at the nursing home with the emotions of shock, stun, and sorrow invading his mind. Daniel inquired thoroughly about the death cause.

The nurses and Henry gave the same explanation, a mysterious virus.

Daniel wrote out the death certificates one at a time and then handed them all to Henry. Before, Hartmann started his phone calls to dispose of the bodies at the funeral, he wrote a payroll check for 30,000 dollars. Wingo took the check and then left the office, going fishing.

After the second medical assignment and payment, Daniel closed his private practice permanently, fishing seven days per week on Perdido Key and never looked back. The money and deaths rolled by each week like a scheduled train.

Daniel reserved the day of Monday to visit the Boyer Nursing Home. He always had thought it odd that the nurses found all the dead bodies on Monday morning then called Hartmann, and then Hartmann called Daniel.

Each death of a nursing home patient had died on the same weekend also.

Daniel never requested an autopsy of any one of the patients. The autopsy wasn't Daniel's decision, since that decision lied with the family members. The family denied such an expensive request.

So life was good. The fishing was excellent. Daniel was contented. And something else mysterious happened like it started.

And then it ended.

Eleven years ago, the deaths decreased dramatically to three per month and Henry was found lying naked on his desk, holding a glass of whiskey. Dead.

Some of the town folks also called him "loco crazy eighth." Hartmann had a temper and started drinking based on the hot gossip hitting the dirt streets of Boyer. And he was having an affair with a young girl, who had worked at the nursing home.

Daniel didn't notice anyways, because he only visited the nursing home once per week on Monday mornings to fill out the death certificates.

Mrs. Hartmann stormed the nursing home on Monday morning and then fired Daniel on the spot. She accused him of harassing and blackmailing her husband for money.

Wingo left the nursing home office of a dead and buried Mr. Hartmann, getting away from an angry and abusive Mrs. Henrietta Hartmann. He went back home.

Wingo was finished with his business at the Boyer Nursing Home, terminating the contractual agreement as chief medical officer. He had earned in salary amounts for the following time periods: fourteen years ago of 572,000 dollars; thirteen years ago of 780,000 dollars, and twelve years ago of 140,000 dollars. The total salary dollars were 1,492,000 dollars. Daniel had invested, saved, and milked for the past ten years. The money was a nice nest egg, providing his daily meals, including a paid off his old house, and a new fishing rig at the Perdido Key Marina.

Present day and place

City of Pensacola

10:37 a.m.

Office of Daniel Barry Wingo MD

Wingo felt funny, daydreaming and standing like a zombie at his desk. The distinguished assholes drooled from their sunburned lips about the past places and people of the former Boyer Nursing Home and the dead Hartmann along with his CMO old job.

The old title and duty had led to Daniel's current position.

Eleven years ago

BOYER NURSING HOME

The next day, after the terse encounter with Mrs. Hartmann's wrath, Wingo received a telephone call from a former college pal, regarding an executive position at the Pensacola Hospital as the chief medical officer. The retiring medical director was leaving the area and the hospital needed a replacement.

So Daniel accepted a new job and a new life.

Present day and place

City of Pensacola

10:39 a.m.

Office of Daniel Barry Wingo MD

Daniel was reliving the past for a second time, staring at the distinguished men and women in his office door.

Since the death of Austin's godson, the state of Florida governor's office had created and approved a state-wide investigation task force to interrogate interesting persons about the cold-blooded murders which were fronted by a personal vendetta from the youthful billionaire Berrington.

Austin's face and the faces of his business partners were seem in the black and white newspapers, the colorful glossy magazines, the electronic e-news articles, and the television tubes every hour of the day while searching for a single cold-blooded mass murdering monster that had killed all the hospital patients in South Florida.

Daniel admitted that the criminal and medical search was detailed, documented, and dangerous. Thus, someone had run across the old obituaries from the small town Boyer. The obituaries had linked the dead bodies to a mysterious disease.

That means the killer was at the Boyer Nursing Home.

Daniel was aghast to think of that news.

Fourteen years ago

BOYER NURSING HOME

He never suspected Hartmann of murdering the kind gentle home residents, collecting the US Federal government checks.

Daniel had noted no additional bruising, cut marks, needle punctures, or any form of abuse to the dead nursing home patients which was uncannily similar to the 8,063 exhumed graves, who were former patients from the different Charity Hospitals throughout the region of South Florida.

So Daniel had mentally thought that the old folks simply had given their last years of life and died peacefully in their sleep as stated on each death certificate, old age.

Present day and place

City of Pensacola

10:41 a.m.

Office of Daniel Barry Wingo MD

With a room full, consisting of the Quartet, two psychiatrics, a corner, and a FBI special agent, Daniel realized the powerful and dangerous truth, too late. Henry somehow had planned and murdered those poor old people, but his cold blooded killings somehow had gotten out of hand along with his silent and secret partner in the numerous Boyer Nursing Home cold blooded murders.

Daniel suspected that he was being questioned as an accomplice which was far from this demon's tale. He lived a nice quiet simply life in Pensacola and away from rural sick motherfuckers of Boyer.

Pensacola was located in the northern part Florida which was nicknamed the panhandle, where most family's income was deviated from the local businesses, such as, Florida Electricity, the University of Pensacola, the US military bases, and the numerous hospitals, restaurants, and tourism shops.

However, all the distinguished guests came from South Florida, an exotic place of wealthy landowners, semi-naked girls, and illegal aliens, who both performed their domestic tasks for less than one dollar. No wonder, so many millionaires congregated in the southern part of sunny Florida with their easy money, lots of cheap labor, and plenty of young naked girls.

Berrington and his brothers represented true Floridians along with their grandfathers, building the marshy gator swamps into the metro city Miami.

Daniel enjoyed reading all the official and unofficial autobiographies of the Band of Brothers, recalling the elderly Quartet were self-millionaires in their own right, holding deeds and private stocks in seaports, ships, mines, hospitals, land plots, and farms. Their sons didn't just inherit their dad's good looks and good money.

The young and ambitious lads had started their own company which distinguished themselves from their dad and their granddad and worked to create a multi-billion-dollar international security company, protecting the grand rich royalty heads of state and private wealthy citizens along with prime government officials in foreign countries around the world.

Quartet Associates was known throughout the world with the infamous slogan: If ya got the bucks, then they got the brass to protect your ass.

One of many unofficial autobiography novels was hotly rumored stating without confirmation that the leader of the Quartet Austin Berrington had killed one of his own men, a stupid security guard with his two bare naked hands for not obeying the company rule. The security guard had gotten the young protectee killed during the hostage raid.

Thus, the final act had gotten Austin nicknamed as Badass Berrington.

And no sane or insane heated body messed with him or his brothers or their wives or their business company or their friends or friends of their friends.

Currently, Austin sat between Stu and Tom in Daniel's office conference table, watching the action.

Tom was a chip off the old block like his father who was a recorded and a documented real life bully. And Sawyer, the third had never ever lost a legal case, keeping his law record spotless.

These boys were young, barely thirty years of age and were billionaires, living in a private island built off the coast of Miami. They jetted in their planes, rode in their limousines, and sailed their yachts to a private beach in the Atlantic Ocean too. They should be enjoying the water during the month of June of hot weather as sun tanners or beach goers or lazy fishermen, instead of murder investigators.

Daniel wished to be fishing instead of sitting in this meeting with a psychiatric from the state of Florida to evaluate his state of mind, a medical doctor to harass his past medical work, a coroner, and a former Miami detective to call the police. The billionaires represented Sawyer, the lawyer; Mangrove, the accountant; Gage the muscle, and Berrington, the judge, jury, and executioner.

Daniel tried to swallow back down the thick pus of mouth salvia his throat. The cast was assembled and the play began. He exhaled with a huff of worry, pondering the number of exhumed bodies.

"8,063." Ethan said with a nod to Daniel.

Lucy, Daniel's private executive secretary in her high heels and gorgeous tanned legs followed behind the distinguished visitors to the conference table, placing a fat stack of faded vanilla colored folders even with Daniel's neck tie. She said with a smile and a southern accent to Berrington. "Death certificates and records that you requested, Dr. Berrington." She batted her eyelashes at him and swung her ass to the open door, and stopped in the archway, turning and smiling to Austin for a second time, closing the door for the private interview meeting.

The city of Pensacola rested on the west and north state line of Alabama which made the local folks create a nickname for Florida's panhandle called 'LA' or 'Lower Alabama.' Since the residents of Pensacola were composed mostly of the transplants from Alabama and Georgia rather than a breed of true native Floridians, except for the last patches of Seminole Indians, who were tucked away in a few tiny pockets of rural farms within Escambia County.

Lucy was born in Brewton, Alabama and moved to Pensacola for a good job. She was a good secretary, who was prompt, proper, and pretty with her curly brown hair and dancing hazel eyes.

Peter held up the first faded paper folder. "My review of this folder shows a name, a contact person, a cause of death, and a time of death. This paper states the cause of death as old age," he exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Daniel.

Daniel cleared his throat. "Are you questioning my ethics or my charting procedures?"

"Actually both." Peter said.

So the battle had begun with the first strike hit at Daniel, noting this was not going to be pretty either.

Peter placed and tapped on the paper folder in front of his dress shirt. "Dr. Wingo, I have been practicing internal medicine for thirty-seven years. I have never written a cause of death as old age. Elder patients die related to a medical condition, such as, heart failure, heart attack, stroke, cancer of a body part, or diabetes with a documental diagnosis. Old age is not a valid or vital or viable medical diagnosis, doctor," he exhaled with a huff of annoyance.

"Thank you, Peter. This isn't a fight, gentlemen." Ethan said with a nod and a smile to Daniel.

Peter slid the first folder in front of Phil and carefully selected a new folder in the middle of the tower of paper, slapping the paper to the table surface, opening the folder, and scanned the information. "Do you remember Gale Spindell?"

Daniel said. "I recall all of my elder patients by name and by face. Mrs. Spindell was very old in years with a progressive heart disease. She was housed in the Assisted Living Facility, because her family members wanted her to receive twenty-four hours of care, seven days a week for the rest of her life at Boyer Nursing Home."

"Tell us all about Boyer Nursing Home, Dr. Wingo!" Ethan said with a smile and a nod to Daniel.

"The home is a charming residence for the elder, starting at age sixty which is located in a quiet, restful town called Boyer which lies about thirty-five miles, north by northwest of metro city Pensacola. The nurse staff rounded four times per day while checking meds, blood pressure, temperatures, heart rate, and recording the body vitals inside the patient's chart." Daniel said.

"Your name appears to be on all the death certificates that I have scanned as the medical examiner of the deceased." Peter nodded to Daniel.

Daniel said, "I was offered a position to examine all new guests for health and fitness to the home first and last upon death. I examined the body first. If no abuse was found, then I signed all death certificates there at the nursing home. I was paid a salary by Mr. Hartmann for payroll purposes."

Peter closed the second paper folder and reached over, fishing down the tall tower stack, pulling out a fat medical chart and slapped the item onto the hard surface, opening and reading the information with a stern face. "The legal name here is Amanda Mackenzie. Date of birth is December 17, 1911. Phone number is listed as Boyer Nursing Home. The emergency contact is a daughter of the deceased, who is named Bess Nelson and the cause of death states old age," he rolled the eyes and then viewed Daniel with a sour frown. "Time of death is estimated at eight in the morning. Do you recall her too, Dr. Wingo? Did she die from ear pain, sore throat, insect bites, mouth sores, skin diseases, pink eye, vomiting, lacerations, nose injury, suture removals, a common cold, congestion, coughing, traumatic neck problems, seizures, mental condition, hernias, diabetic, sickle cell, fever, swelling in glands, bleeding disorder, shunts in hearts, heart surgery, rash, toxic poisons, metabolic problems..."

"Metabolics?" Tom leaned over with a soft whisper into the eardrum on Frank.

Frank whispered back to Tom, "If your stomach contents erupt back into the throat, then sometimes older patients will choke and die on their mouth spit and their last meal food."

Tom frowned with disgust in silence coming from Frank's answer and continued to watch Peter harass the shit out of Daniel for some fucking ass reason.

Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, tapping on the folder. "I find it very interesting, Dr. Wingo. Your memory at your age can recall all 1,492 patients that died there at the Boyer Nursing with such clarity for such a short physical examine of a person, whom you never known before..."

"Do you know an employee named Joyce Tung? She was a nurse. Or do you recall an employee called Kattleen Kattrell, who might sound familiar as a staff member there at the Boyer Nursing Home, Dr. Wingo?" Frank asked to Daniel and interrupting Peter's nonsense questioning.

"No." Daniel turned with a stern face to see Frank.

Frank exhaled. "Dr. Wingo, as the chief medical officer for Boyer Nursing Home, did you notice the jump in the number of deaths which had occurred some thirteen or fourteen years ago? The percentage leaped from twelve to sixty percent. Was the matter of increased deaths brought to your attention at all by anyone including Mr. Hartmann, the AQHCA agency, or another state Medical agency?"

Daniel thought that the accountant was sharp, since Frank had accessed all the AQHCA state of Florida medical death reports. Wingo filed the medical deaths fourteen years ago too, drawing the same conclusion. There was something odd happening at Boyer Nursing Home. "No." Daniel said with a stern face to Frank.

Peter tapped on a new paper folder and stared at the nose profile on Daniel. "On this one and the other twenty-nine patients that possessed an individual death certificate, it shows the time of death at eight o'clock in the morning on the first day of the week and always on a Monday, if I'm not mistaken. Why would that be the same time for all the same deaths?"

"Is this a hearing or an interview?" Daniel turned and smirked to Peter.

"We are collecting information as stated within the governor's memo to investigate this mysterious killer, who carries a mysterious disease. We are not a jury, Dr. Wingo." Ethan smiled at Daniel.

"Mr. Matthew Adams Hartmann, VIII, who owns Boyer Nursing Home, might provide some additional answers to your numerous questions." Daniel smiled at Peter and then Ethan. Since, Wingo knew that Henry was dead, but he did not believe that the distinguished visitors of South Florida were aware of that historical fact. So, they all could ride inside their limousine towards the small farm town of Boyer which was about thirty minutes traveling time north of Pensacola. They could ask someone there, since Wingo had never returned back to the farm town Boyer leaving that day after the cat fight with Mrs. Hartmann. Daniel was paid and Henry was dead. And then the nursing home was closed down.

There was no need for Daniel to tattle any more additional information coming from eleven years ago to the distinguished visitors. However, there was a greater need to wrap up this silly conversation, annoying office meeting, and get all these people out of his private office, since it was almost lunchtime.

Daniel planned to fish, since the slow action of bass fishing would calm his raw nerves and help him forget about the city of Boyer, the dead Hartmann, the numbered 1,492 deaths, and the shit ass Peter Mowran, MD.

Ethan said with a nod and a smile. "That is an excellent idea! Thank you for the suggestion, Dr. Wingo!"

Peter raised a palm into the air with a stern face. "Wait! I'm not finished here," he narrowed the eyelids at Daniel with a sour frown. "I have a set of additional unexplored questions for Dr. Wingo, including ethics, malpractice, insurance..."

"We are gathering information here, Dr. Mowran. Our information has been gathered. We are leaving Pensacola Hospital. We have other VIP appointments to keep for today, Dr. Mowran." Ethan turned with a frown to see the nose profile on Peter.

"You can tarry and carry on with the other VIP appointments without me, Ethan. I will stay and ask Dan the rest of my unexplored medical questions." Peter slammed the third paper folder shut and reached out, jerking out a new fat paper folder coming from the tower stack of folders, placing in front of a chest, and opened to the first page, reading the contents with a sour frown.

Ethan exhaled with a fake smile at the hair roots on Peter. "May I remind you hee, Dr. Mowran? Dr. Wingo is not under investigation of the murder case."

"I haven't done anything illegal, immoral, or unethical." Daniel smiled with a nod at the balding hair roots on Peter.

"Do you think not?" Peter continued to read the paper folder and exhaled with a huff of frustration, looking up to see to Daniel, tapping on the new fat paper folder with a sour frown. "I have tons more unexplored medical questions here for you, Dr. Wingo."

Austin stared with a stern face at Daniel. "Tom, as the only legal representative in this room, has Dr. Wingo committed a legal infraction?"

Tom slightly wiggled within the comfortable padded seat, pondering Austin's question, staring with a stern face at Daniel. "I don't see anything illegal here, Austin."

Austin continued to stare with a stern face at Daniel. "Thank you, Tom! Frank, you're a physician. Do you wish to inform the governor of Florida about any type of medical malpractice issues which could be cited here today?"

Frank smirked to Daniel. "No."

"Kim, do you have one single question for Dr. Wingo?" Austin continued to fake a smile at Daniel.

She stared at Daniel without a facial expression too. "No." Kim had remained silent throughout the entire medical interrogation by Peter, Ethan, and Frank.

Austin stood upright from the chair with a fake smile and extended a hand over the hard surface to Daniel for ending the vocal interview. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Wingo! We're finished and leaving your person. Enjoy your afternoon!" Daniel stood upright from the chair with a smile shaking and released the hand of Austin, continued to stand, watching all the other distinguished assholes leave his personal office. The door closed shut.

And, they all knew too.

They had discovered the state reports coming from AQHCA, the paid salaries coming from the IRS office, and the numerous unexplained deaths coming from the Boyer Nursing Home but they were not after Wingo.

Daniel didn't commit the individual murders of all those elderly people. Henry did and Hartmann had help, since the man was smart with money like a thief and not an academician.

Daniel was very impressed with the Quartet. The four non-related brother were smart, reserve, and properly mannered, noting that the governor had selected the right group of men for this mammoth task to find a cold-blooded mass murderer of 8,069 souls. So, Daniel had done his duty by siccing the Quartet onto Hartmann or rather the wife of Hartmann, since she knew also.

Mrs. Hartmann had accused Wingo of black mailing her husband and stealing the money, so she knew something about all the deaths within the Boyer Nursing Home also.

Daniel exhaled with a huff of annoyance, planning to go fishing. He would read about the progress of the hunt within the newspapers, the magazines, and television monitors, since the manhunt of a killer of 8,063 bodies was the latest hot gossip talk of the town. He reached over and lifted the landline telephone receiver on top of the desk with a stern face. "Lucy, I'm leaving for the day. Please hold all my telephone messages for tomorrow."

12:12 p.m.

Hospital entrance sidewalk setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Where are they going?" Stu moved from the exit door and saw that Ethan's sedan had left the hospital.

Tom leaned against the limousine door with a sour frown and waved both arms in the air with a shout out. "Who fuckingly cares? Lunchtime, I'm starving." He slid down into the air conditioned limousine, scooting near the far window.

Stu shook a bald skull with confusion and moved ahead, sliding down, entering into the open limousine door, sitting close Sawyer, saying with a confused brow to Tom. "You always eat, Tom. I don't understand why you ain't as fat as a cow."

Frank slid down from the rooftop of the limousine door and scooted beside Austin on the opposite bench on Tom and Stu. The limousine door was shut manually by the paid limousine driver that came from the local airport pool.

"Ethan and his party are meeting with a federal judge getting permission to exhume some of the graveyard bodies for a visual inspection of none or many yellow crystallized livers which will be under Underhill's control and guidance." Austin said with a stern face to Stu.

"He has a fast metabolism for consuming food items. Tom will always be pencil thin slim until old age catches up with him." Frank smiled at Stu as the limousine slowly pulled away from the curb of the hospital property and drove through local traffic.

"How many bodies will be exhumed?" Stu nodded to Austin.

"That's right! You tell him, smart medical doctor," Tom reached up with a chuckle and played with the window button as it dropped half-way down between the slot and the metal while whipping fresh air into the cabin of the limousine. He punched the electronic button up as the window rose fully back into the slot. Sawyer repeated the visual procedure for fun and laughs like a little child. He could not have fun like this inside Austin's limousine at home in Coral Beach. Or Berrington will be beat his butt.

"Technically, we should apply the 80/20 rule for examining the bodies." Frank nodded with a stern face to nose profile on Austin.

"Not in this case!" Austin watched Tom play with the electronic window.

Tom turned and pointed with a smile at Austin. "Right on, Austin! The number of eighty plus the number of twenty, that's one hundred, Frank. Can't you fuckingly add?" He lifted both hands into the air while hitting the roof ceiling of the limousine. "Ouch! Gawd! I thought you passed all your shitty accounting classes, Mangrove. Anyways, we don't have fucking time to look at the livers of 1,229..."

"1,492 patients, the correct number of patients, Tom." Frank exhaled with a puff of annoyance. "The eighty slash twenty rule is a mathematical percentage of measured efficiency for a project. You select twenty percent of all the patients within this medical case. Excuse the pun! Twenty percent of 1,492 is 298.4 dead bodies. Once we examine the results of 298.4 cases, if we discover the same yellow crystallized coated liver, then you apply the same discovery rule for the reminding eighty percent of non-exhumed graves. Therefore, the 1,193.6 patients all suffered and died at the Boyer Nursing Home by the same killer," he smiled.

Tom flung up a hand side to side like a pretend slap onto the face of Frank, since Frank would get really mad if Tom physically slapped the cheekbone on Mangrove. Then, Frank would kick Tom's ass while Austin and Stu stood by watching and laughing with nasty brotherly delight. Sawyer exhaled with huff of frustration, "298.4 cases? How in the hell can you cut open a fourth of a dead man, Frank? Anyways, there are too many whole plus one-fourth body parts," he chuckled. "That's funny! Who is going to pay for 298.4 graves? Who is going to pay the doctors of 298.4 dead folks? And finally, what doctors are going to cut open up 298.4 bodies?" He turned and touched the window lever again with a laugh while watching it drop down into the slot with a giggle.

"I agree with Tom." Austin smiled at the rear blonde hairy skull on Tom.

Tom swung around with a smile to see Austin. "You agree with me. Cool, man!"

"What mathematical rule are you applying to these particular death medical cases, Austin?" Stu frowned.

"The 1-2-3 rule," Austin turned and smiled at each brother.

"I'm not familiar with that particular statistical formula." Frank frowned.

"Either, am I? What is the 1-2-3 rule?" Stu frowned.

"Who the fuck cares?" Tom turned and viewed the tall pine trees and pretty wildflowers through the window while dropping the window again and felt the hot air. "I'm hunger."

Austin lifted up three fingers, touching one at a time with a smile. "One whole body comes from thirteen years ago. A second whole body comes from twelve years ago, and a third whole body comes from the eleven years ago. If each whole body display a yellow bilirubin coat encasement on each liver for this medical case. Excuse the pun! Then we make the mathematical assumption that all the 1,489 left non-exhumed bodies have the same medical result. That's my rule." He smirked. Frank chuckled. Stu laughed.

Tom frowned at passing tall trees and low flowering plants with a sigh, "Yeah, another smartass."

"That done! Now, it is time for lunch." Austin smiled with a nod.
Saturday June 12th

7:22 a.m.

Limousine ride north on US Highway 29

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The Quartet limousine led Ethan's sedan to the small farm town of Boyer, Florida, riding on Highway 29 for conducting a series of court appointed personal interviews in the township while seeking and searching for Kathleen Scarlett Kattrell.

Stu sat beside Tom, saying with a smile and a nod. "The city of Boyer is located in the middle of the state-county tucked into the northwest position on this map," he lifted the tiny map.

"Wait." Tom sniggered and snatched the paper from Stu. "Ya got this lousy data from the net's encyclopedia web site, English version, man." He laughed, pinging the paper.

Frank smirked. Austin grinned.

Stu frowned and snatched back the paper. "So!"

Tom said with a giggle and a grin. "I hate to pop your bubble, Stu. That shitty information is not a very good reliable source of data, especially in this delicate murderess case."

"It was the best that I could find. This city doesn't have a graphically colored detailed pic on their web site from the net which offers a group of seaside vacation spots and advertises a set of high paying employment jobs. I can't find a single reference to a city hall, a library, a fire department or a police station. One of these must exist. I think." Stu looked down with a frown to see the tiny map.

"Good job, Stu. Please continue." Austin smiled.

Stu cleared his throat, looking to each brother. "The small township has been ruled by many foreign nations not just the USA..."

"Is this really necessary?" Tom rolled his eyes, turning with a frown to see the non-bullet proof side window and passing the colorful wildflowers.

"Shut up, Tom!" Frank elbowed Tom on the arm, since Stu could not attack as he was drowning in his research paperwork.

"All the information which includes maps, stats, articles, books, interviews, charts, and internet abstracts that we can collect is important in this case, Tom." Austin said with a nod to Stu. "Please continue, Big Man."

Tom leaned down between his kneecaps and pulled out a single item from his brand new maroon colored alligator briefcase which was parked between his pair of brand new maroon colored alligator leathers. He sat upright and propped an elbow against the window, flipping through the pages of his new science fiction novel from his favorite author Ela Barlow to the marked spot. He stared reading and shutting out the bass timber of Stu.

Austin leaned over and snatched the book from Tom's hand.

"Hey!" Tom looked up and frowned to Berrington.

"Please focus on the job at hand, Tom. We need everyone's perspective." Austin stored the novel behind his back spine. "I'll return your fantasy tale to you after dinner."

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, turning to see the window and sees miles of cotton crops and wildflowers, since arguing with Austin was useless, he was the boss, the leader, and the Old Man, since all the decision of Austin were final for the Quartet.

Twenty-six years ago

City of Coral Gables

Home of Mr. and Mrs. Austin Bartholomew Berrington, III

Back yard playground setting

Hot temperatures with partly cloudy

The developing brotherly relationship was fought, forged, and decided on the battle field of golden sand at 221 Leonard Street in Coral Gables, Florida, the residential home of Mr. and Mrs. Austin Berrington, the third and five-year-old Berrington, the fourth. The puppy fight took place at the bottom of the playground slide in the middle of the Austin's back yard.

The lawn housed six butthole-sitting swings, four rubber tire swings, hanging from four Banyan trees, and two sets of monkey bars.

In the previous round of sliding, Frank had stepped up the top metal prong in his socked feet, enjoying the peaceful, calm, and windy thrill ride down the super long curved playground slide, landing with a heavy thump into the soft and harmless golden tinted sand.

Tom was inpatient as usual and couldn't wait his selfish turn for the next round of fun and thrills.

Frank was too slow as always, taking his free time, cautiously placing a right hand then a left hand on the tall ladder, slowly crawling like a sick palmetto bug to the top of the slide. He was guarding his safety and measuring the height, balancing his weighted body.

Frank sat on bent kneecaps on the top prong and elegantly moved a right leg then a left leg and smoothly placed each socked feet and linen covered leg in front of his folded body. He slowly breathed in and out with a steady rhythm before pushing off with both hands from the ladder's twin hand gripes.

For the new round of sliding, Frank sat his body carefully on his kneecaps, mentally preparing for the joy ride to the bottom, gently falling on the soft sands, and quietly secured his body position for the exit ride.

Tom rapidly advanced up to the eighth prong of ladder steps, curving his naked long toe bones over the smooth metal, standing his upright body directly behind Frank's collar bone. Then Tom shoved both his hands with his five-year-old might and strength, pushing down Frank.

Frank swiftly dove forward with his head first, stretching his long body like a straight pin pose with both his arms pinned beside his waist. He moved down the smooth slick slide, yelling like a little girl with scary cat fear. His speeding inertia banged his kneecaps, shoulders, arms, hands, and jaw line against the narrow metal rims of the slide. His exposed and unprotected skull with a set of big double bug eyed pupils, followed the dangerous end for his fragile body, swiftly falling with forward motion along the gigantic curvy slide from a child's point of view.

Frank quickly and painfully shifted both his arms in front of his face at the last few seconds of flight, hitting the hard sand with both his open palms. He rolled into a single messy folded body somersault and plopped on his back spine and not moving, yelling, or crying.

Tom's heart almost stopped but didn't, eye witnessing the murder of his best friend Frank. He scooted down the ladder, jumping from the third prong, landing deftly on the gold sand, running on naked feet to see the victim.

Frank's eyelids were closed with running red blood from his two nose holes. His mouth was shut. His arms and legs sprawled like a shushed spider in different directions on the sand and not unmoving. His chest was not breathing, looking like a fresh corpse.

Thus, Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third was dead.

"Ya killed Frank." Stu ran to Frank, shouting at Tom and folded his two fists tight for Tom's punishment. Gage raised both arms in front of his face as his Dad taught him during their martial art practice which was last week at his home.

"No. Accident. Swear." Tom yelled back in self-defense, flinging his arms in the air like a sick bird.

Austin stared at the motionless body on the playground sand and lifted his face to see Tom, saying with a stern face. "I sees it. Stu sees it. Ya pushed Frank from top, on purpose, Tom."

"No," Tom shook both his bangs and his hands.

"I sees ya do that meanie thing. Don't fib, Tommy." Stu nodded.

Tom did it and lied, trying to get back good into the circle of friendship.

Frank softly moaned on the sand, breaking up the verbal cat fight.

"Frank, ya hurt?" Stu yelled, dropping with Austin to the sand as they aided Frank upright at his waist.

"Head? Hurt?" Frank slowly wiped the blood from his nose, looking down at red substance with shock on his fingers, looking up to see Tom.

"He's okay." Tom yelled with joy, jumping up and down in the air, since he didn't kill Frank. "Yippy!"

"Up!" Frank ordered as Stu and Austin each grabbed an arm, assisting Frank to stand in the sand, steadying his wobbling body.

Tom back stepped from his brothers, saying with a confused brow, "Ya okay, Frank?"

Frank said with a sneer of fury. "I'm going to beat the shit out of ya, Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third." He violently jerked forward with each arm locked by his brothers and not being able to swing his two fists at Tom.

Austin and Stu held Frank tight, allowing Frank's arms and hands to strike nothing but air molecules.

Austin ordered, "Stop. We decide." He viewed Tom.

Tom quickly swallowed the thick mouth salvia back down his throat and asked. "Going to tell my mom?"

Stu, Austin, and Frank looked at each other and turned their back spine to Tom as they huddled, whispering secret words.

Tom, Frank, Austin, and Stu were five years old in kindergarten at Coral Gables Academy Prep School, starting the nursery school together at the age of three. They were taught to live by three rules from their parents.

Obey grow ups. Do not fib. Do not steal.

These were very basic laws of ethics, teaching a group of young, hungry, intelligent, and highly spirited children in any family, school, church, or social setting, since the family moral values were repeated over and over again to the boys in the family home residence, at the school grounds, at church classes, and at all other social functions. The edicts were part of The Holy Bible's list of Ten Commandments taught to them by their loving and caring parents.

You were supposed to listen to your mom and dad's instructions. Your mom and dad created this rule, because they really loved you very much, and wanted to protect you from harm and keep you safe from the boogie man in the wardrobe closet, and the ugly big monster underneath the bed mattress.

You were to follow all the rules of your extended family members, including Frank's parents, Uncle Franklin and his wife Aunt Betty; Stu's parents, Uncle Stuart and his wife Aunt Mary; Austin's parents, Aunt Barbara and her husband Uncle Bartholomew, and Tom's parents, Uncle Edison and his wife Aunt Martha.

The boys swung their bodies, tossing small sprays of sand in the air and faced Tom.

Stu shook his skull, ordering. "We tattle to no body."

Austin stepped forward to Tom's face. "Yeah, Tom. do ya wanna get whipped by Aunt Martha or us?" He viewed Stu and Frank and looked back to see Tom.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, thinking hard and long and fast at the present twin choices for him. In his current situation, his mom and his dad would be highly outraged that he literally did attack and almost killed Frank, pushing him down the gigantic playground slide.

Frank could've died but didn't.

Then Tom covered his evil plan, purposefully lying to his best pals and family members. Tom had broken two of the three Bible rules, since he both lied and disobeyed his parents. In order to obey your parents, you had to learn and follow their rules, since there were lots of little instructions inside the rules for both Tom and his brothers.

Don't push. Don't shove. Don't fight.

Therefore, Tom would get two belt whippings for his crimes and no dessert for three days at dinner. Tom knew this fact all too well based on his past historical experiences with a set of previous highly executed and successful plots coupled with its severe punishments from his parents during his very short life span to date.

Tom studied the emotional charged faces of each brother.

Austin, Frank, and Stu were fair with their collective judgment decisions to bad people. He had witnessed that fact at school when some of the bigger boys would hit and punch the little squealing girls.

Stu protected the little girls, since he was the biggest kid in kindergarten, well actually, the biggest child in school classes between pre-kindergarten to third grade. Stu could pretend to be eight years old. No adult or kid could tell the difference.

Tom thought it was a stupid idea to play with the sissy girls anyways, since they were always whining, crying, or playing with their dolls and girl stuff, especially Liz Harris.

One day at the playground, a big ugly second grader cornered Liz between the building and the iron gate, pulling on her long ponytail, making her girly cry, of course. Then Austin came to her rescue, of course. Stu jerked the kid away from little Liz and pinned him against the concrete wall with his strong arm.

Frank, Stu, Austin, and Tom offered the big ugly kid a choice: a butt whipping from the teacher or an ass whipping from them. The kid picked his punishment from the young Band of Brothers.

Stu plowed the kid's ugly face with his fist with ease, creating a big blacken eye socket, but he didn't cry. The kid left the wall, tattling to the teacher that he stupidly fell off the monkey bars. Since, Austin had issued his first order from the Quartet, the kid's pretend excuse.

Then the kid was allowed to leave the school and returned to his home, making that kid out of sight of the playground for three whole days. And he also never messed with Liz or any other girl from the student classes of pre-kindergarten to fourth grade at Coral Gables Academy Prep.

That day, the Band of Brothers had established their supremacy among their school friends and school foes, but the princely reign wasn't an easy royal regime as their brotherly sovereignty was trialed and tested day after day, during the elementary school year.

Tom decided, stomping his naked feet to Austin's naked toes. They stood even nose to nose, being the same height in size and not the same weight. Tom was skinny and bony. Austin had inherited the soft thin layer of baby fat which covered his strong bones which would eventually display a cultured set of taunt chest and arm muscles like his daddy.

"Your whipping," Tom said with a stern face and a nod.

"Fine," Austin nodded. He and Frank back stepped from Tom. Stu stepped forward sharing Tom's shadow.

Frank said quickly with his future physician compassion. "Don't hurt him, a lot. I didn't die."

"Okay." Stu nodded, rearing back his fighting arm, cocking his folded fist and punched Tom in the face, gently tapping the bone in the nose bridge.

Tom stumbled backward from his brothers, falling and landing in the soft sand. The bright red blood spurted in the hot air and fell back down on his chin and his clothes.

Austin, Stu, and Frank run to their fallen comrade, encircling him. They watched his reaction and gagged at the sickening blood, draining off the wound from Tom's bloody nose.

"Hurt, Tom?" Frank asked with concern, patting Tom's shoulder. Tom's nose had stopped blooding but was caked with partially wet and dried blood, making it itch. Frank tended to Tom like a caring physician, assisting Sawyer upright at his waist, and stood.

"Some." Tom cupped his nose with both his hands.

"Sorry about your whipping." Stu exhaled with a huff of regret, looking down to the sand and looked up to see Tom.

"Did it. Sorry, Frank!" Tom sounded in his new funny baritone, holding his nose with the tail of his shirt as red blood dropped down his pale chest.

"Okay." Frank reached out and gently punched the arm on Tom with a smile.

"Friends, again." Austin cheered out loud with a smile.

"Friends, forever." Frank slapped the collar bones of each brother with a grin without hurting Tom for a second time.

"Friends, forever and a day." Stu yelled out loud with a grin and a chuckle.

"Gotta tell Aunt Martha that ya fell off the slide, Tom." Austin coolly created the new fairy tale, saying to Tom's bloody face.

"Okay." Tom remarked with a funny baritone as Frank dragged Tom by the arm to the kitchen door of the house for their medical treatment which included hundreds of kisses and hugs from their individual biological mothers.

"Lucky dogs! They get two desserts tonight." Stu frowned to Austin.

"Deserved it," Austin reached over with a smile and slapped Stu on the collar bone with a nod.

They moved ahead a pair of naked feet towards the house for an array of hundreds of hugs and kisses from each biological mother too.

Present day and place

8:20 a.m.

Limousine ride north US Highway 29

"Escambia," Stu said as Tom wiggled his body and mind out of his childhood daydream. Gage rattled the papers. "The Spanish name means 'to barter or exchange.' Boyer is a small rural area within the county of Escambia, and crosses the Pensacola-Ferry Pass metro area. The town is named after the remains of a British fort during the Battle of Pensacola in 1814. In the famous battle, the American forces fought against the British, Spanish, and American Indian Creeks, who allied with the British. During the heat of the battle instead of destroying the city of Pensacola, General Andrew Jackson demanded the surrender of all forts including Boyer, St. Michael, and Barrancas. The Redcoats blow up Fort Barrancas and fled by sea, leaving the two other forts intact for General Jackson's invasion. Once both the forts were captured and occupied by the American troops, General Jackson set out for Mobile, Alabama, heading to New Orleans for another historical battle showdown. There's more data on this sheet of piece. The latitude measurement is 30 degrees, 36 feet, and 42 inches north by the longitude measurement of 87 degrees, 13 feet, 13 inches west, which is the total area of land, that measures eight square miles with zero miles, consisting of water. The Pensacola River feeds numerous underground fresh water springs for the local farms. The farms land owners are self-employed. Some Boyer folks work for the school system or local home-grown Ma and Pa retail stores. There is one school..."

"Boyer High School." Tom laughed, looking out the window.

Stu looked up with sour frown to see the nose profile on Tom and looked down and rattled his paper. "Boyer Elementary, Middle, and High School are located in one building along with a volunteer fire department, a local grocery store, and a feed store for livestock and crop seed. That's pretty much the completed township bio of Boyer, Florida." He looked up with a smile and a nod to see Austin.

"Good job, Big Man." Austin nodded to Stu.

"That's it." Tom turned and frowned to Austin. "How many people live in Boyer?"

"I do not know." Stu frowned.

"Number of households?" Tom grinned.

"I do not know." Stu frowned.

"How about the different races?" Tom giggled.

"I do not know."

"Median incomes?"

"I do not know."

"How many horses?"

"Enough, pup." Austin frowned to Tom.

"Sixty-eight horses." Stu chuckled.

"Man. Ya know the gawd damn numbers of steeds and not people." Tom laughed.

"Tom?" Austin said with a sour frown and a sour tone.

Tom raised his palm in Austin's face. "Wait. I'm not finished with the asshole. How about the median age, the number of married couples, or the death rate? Where in the universe did you dig up a school and a city hall?"

"I called and talked briefly with the nice secretary for the local sheriff. She's not a chatty person, Tom." Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration with Sawyer.

"Good work, Big Man." Austin nodded.

"Why ya complimenting that ass wipe? I could've done that little tiny bit of shitty work." Tom laughed.

"But ya did not, bro," sneered Stu as Austin elbow punched Stu in the rib cage which was a reminder not to bruise Tom in front of eyewitnesses. In case, they were all questioned by the real lawyer, the overprotective Mrs. Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

"Houses on the left." Frank pointed to the window, breaking up the verbal cat fight between his brothers.

Stu rattled and read from the papers. "Homes are built in the 1930's style design. Each house contains two bedrooms, a section of separate rooms for a kitchen, a living room, two bathrooms, the wrap-around screened porch, a basement, a standard carport, with no built-in garage, with a beige tiled roof and no sidewalks. The driveways are mostly gravel filled."

The next mile showed more potholes than residences as the limo passed two double story structures on each side of street.

One structure showed a sign that was painted in dull red letters: Boyer Nursing Home. The building was designed in an ancient Greek architecture of eight dull white wooden columns, complementing the red clay bricks.

A second structure appeared similar to the nursing home building with a patch of red, green, yellow colorful field wildflowers, growing beside the tall green weeds, coming up to your kneecaps. The colorful wildflowers and green weeds framed a house with a set of closed and draped shades.

Both the limousine and the sedan ventured down the road to the end of the street, passing the steeple church and the manicured cemetery.

"Is this street named Maple?" Frank absorbed every visual detail of the landscape.

Stu said. "The street is called Florida Avenue."

"Good." Frank chuckled. "I thought that we were entering the movie set of A Nightmare on Maple Street."

Tom laughed, jabbing a finger at Frank. "Hey. I saw that horror movie. This guy cuts up all the teens into stew..."

"We all saw the horror movie, Tom. There's no need to elaborate." Austin absorbed every visual detail of the landscape too which was very different from Coral Beach.

Tom jabbed a finger at Frank, saying with a sour frown. "Frank started it."

"We're here." Frank said with a nod and a smile.

8:31 a.m.

City of Boyer (30 miles southeast to Pensacola)

BOYER CITY HALL

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

The limousine parallel parked in front of the two story building without a sign.

The tall male appeared, wearing a police patch and a cowboy hat. The hat hid his eyebrows, his eyeballs, and part of his nose but not his smile. He stomped in his polished cowboy boots to his new guests, extending his hand, saying with a southern accent, waving the paper. "Okey Dokey. Welcome folks to Boyer, Florida. I here am mayor, sheriff, and tax collector for this little town. The name's Matthew Adams Hartmann, XXII. But call me plain old sheriff or Matt. Got the sums. Okey Dokey. I'm here to work with ya'll, the FBI investigational team on the 'angel of death' murders. Nice to meet ya'll..."

Ethan moved from the sedan to the handshake of the sheriff, saying with a smile and a nod. "Good morning, Sheriff. I am Dr. Ethan Alan Underhill, the medical coroner of Miami-Dade Metro County."

"Hi, doc," The cowboy hat nodded up and down, speaking in baritone timber, extending his hand to the next gentleman.

A tall and slender elderly male with a head of grayish-brown colored hair wore a dark brown suit and a red neck tie, extending his hand, saying with a nod and a smile. "I am Dr. Peter Mowran. I am the lead licensed state of Florida psychiatric on the newly formed special appointed investigational team, directly from the governor's office in Tallahassee."

"Hi, doc," the cowboy hat nodded up and down, speaking in baritone timber and tipped his hat to the lady.

The short woman nodded. "Dr. Kim Byrne, a psychiatrist from Miami."

The cowboy hat nodded, "Hi, doc and ma'am. Okey dokey. There's lots of docs in your group...how will..."

Ethan smiled at the cowboy hat, pointing to each person. "You should reference me as Ethan, then Peter, and then Kim to resolve that problem, Matt." The cowboy hat nodded up and down to Ethan.

Austin extended his hand, introducing. "Call me, Austin," he pointed to the lawyer. "Tom." He pointed to the engineer. "Stu." He pointed the accountant. "Frank."

The cowboy hat nodded up and down, shaking each hand of the visitors from South Florida.

Phil nodded, shaking and releasing the hand of Matt. "I'm FBI Special Agent Phil Magnum from Miami just call me, Phil."

Matt held the paper. "The sums says ya'll came to interview Mr. Matthew Adams Hartmann, VIII. If rightly so, your trip will be real short, since he's dead been a ways back around the first of the new century right after the Y2K thing. Yeah. If my old memory serves, that's about ten years or so ago."

All the eyeballs shifted to each other with a set of confused frowns.

Austin silently absorbed everything with his mind. Tom smiled at the mental thought of going back home to Coral Beach. Stu frowned at the obvious missed information. Frank analyzed the available new information.

Ethan said with a frown and a nod to Matt, "The summons includes his wife Mrs. Hartmann. May we speak with her, sheriff?"

The cowboy hat nodded up and down. "Yeah. Shore. Henrietta. Okey dokey. Read the sums. But Henrietta, she's not herself, since Henry's demise. Ya'll can ask her some questions about them deaths, but the interview might be short. Take ya'll to her. Stay as long as ya'll like. Henrietta likes company...loves to chat. Ride with me?" There are no verbal acknowledgements. Matt pointed to the road in front of the city hall. "Ya'll passed the old nursing home, a couple of miles back. It's closed. No patients. Henrietta's home. She, well, ya'll see her in a few." He moved to his police car, sliding in the seat with the window down, yelling. "Follow me."

8:46 a.m.

Home of Henrietta Hartmann (one mile south of city hall)

Living room setting

Matt parked his police car in a patch of knee-high weeds that grew from the driveway and right behind the beaten up old 1970s four-door sedan which was colored red for rust, brown for motor fluids, white for smashed parts, and green for weeds which were growing inside the closed trunk.

The limo straddled a paved road and numerous deep potholes.

Ethan steered the sedan behind the limo between the sandy dirt and the paved country road. The city slickers carefully waddled through wet slick green and brown moss-covered steps to a dangerous rotten black and dark brown wooden planks, making up a weather beaten front porch.

Matt tenderly patted the weather beaten rotted wooden door with his night stick as rotten wood fell on the front porch. He yelled. "Henrietta. Ya there? Henrietta, gots ya some fine company."

Tom stood beside Austin, whispering. "Austin, you should interview this woman. There are plenty of eye witnesses. You don't need me." He back stepped to Stu's chest away from the creepy door, the creepy folks, and a mysterious Mrs. Hartmann.

Austin grabbed Tom by the forearm, saying to his eardrum. "Tom, you are the prosecuting attorney on this murder case. You must hear the testimony. Legal matters are your domain." He tugged Tom to the creepy front door.

"I'm not employed by the DA just assist in interviews, data collection, research, and other stuff." Tom twisted away from Austin's hand grip.

Austin captured Tom's wiggling body, whispering. "You are not leaving, Tom. You have to stay. I will send Frank and Stu back to the hotel."

"No." Tom turned and frowned to Stu, who stood beside Tom, so Sawyer did not escape. Tom whined. "I need them here alongside me for protection. Right? Protection?"

Stu pulled Tom from Austin's hug and wrapped his arm around Sawyer's neck. Gage gently slapped his palm to Tom's flat chest, pushing Sawyer to the front door, saying with a grin and a chuckle, "Got your back side covered, buddy." Frank smiled. Austin grinned.

Matt beat on the door again, hollering. "Henrietta!?"

A dark creepy bass clarinet bellowed from the side of the door. "Coming. Hold ya grits. Coming." The front door slowly jerked open with squeaking sounds as it framed an ancient woman with embedded pink hair rollers and smeared red lipstick. She sneered. "What, Matt?"

Matt thumbed behind his hat, "Got company for ya. Talk about them deaths, Henrietta."

Henrietta grinned with a toothless front teeth smile, saying with a nod. "Don't say? I be Mrs. Hartmann. But ya'll cans call me, Henrietta. Follows me, honey child." She slowly swung her hump backed body around the flooring, leading the team through a darken hallway, waving her arms at the walls. "Excuses the house. Ain't been able to decorate the way I wants, since my Henry passed."

The narrow foyer held an assortment of different heights of wooden hand carved oak, maple, and pine tables as the team slid around the pointy objects.

The numerous dining room and long side tables held weaved brown baskets of dried out or fresh fruit and vegetables, tons of dead and alive potted plant ferns, and colorful flowering plants. Henrietta slowly moved down the hallway in her night time house shoes, where the right foot was colored a red fussy cloth. Her left foot was soft blue leather. She passed a lighted lamp shade.

The foyer walls above the sets of weaved baskets displayed portraits of her deceased family members with the bottom of bass picture frames engraved with the names and dates of a birth to a grave.

Six side doors appeared down the narrow hallway both on the right and on the left sides of the corridor. The third door on the right showed a room with a side window view that displayed dying green and yellow weeds in the yard and tons of white sheets covers like a set of deformed ghosts over the furnishings in the room. The fourth door down the hallway on the left displayed a dark dining room table and matching fourteen hard wooden chairs at the end of hall.

The hallway window displayed the bright Florida sun rays attacking the ceiling and a set of French doors, leading outside to a garden of overgrown field flowers, unshaped thorny bushes, and more green and yellow wild weeds. A set of twin staircases brushed up the long walls, climbing up to the second floor of the once grand house.

The fifth door showed a modern black and white colored kitchen.

She and the team turned to the right into the sixth door, leading to a gigantic room.

The sixth door on the right was painted in puke green walls without any windows. The huge space measured fifty feet in length by forty feet in wide, and twenty feet high up to the yellow patched ceiling.

The rear wall held a queen sized four poster bed frame with a mattress and a box springs which was covered in a bedspread of red and yellow dots that touched the floor. An array of pillows over the bedspread was decorated in a variety of different shapes and sizes of green and blue which rested from the headboard to the footboard.

Two nightstands surrounded the headboard. One nightstand was made of light wood in a Quaker furniture format on the left headboard. The second nightstand was dark wood on the right in English manor furniture style.

A cherry oak Queen Elizabeth dining room table sat at the footboard, possessing four lamps of different heights and colors with one digital clock, one pink landline telephone, numerous empty liquor bottles, numerous empty drinking glasses, four pairs of reading eyeglasses, and her personal items of three hair brushes, two toothbrushes, and four bottles of hand cream.

The side wall beside the archway held numerous chest of drawers in a variety of heights, weights, and furniture design, ranging from white pine to dark maple wood which displayed between two up to nine individual drawers.

Matt with the help of Stu dragged an array of various colored and designed tall bar stools and dining room chairs into Henrietta's bedroom setting. They lined the chairs in two rows at the foot of the bed frame.

Henrietta roughly dropped into an old torn and stained lounge chair, propping her mismatched feet on the pull out attached stool in the middle of the side wall which was on an opposite wall with a huge television screen. She grabbed her tumbler and placed between her legs, exhaling with a puff and burped, saying with a grin and a nod. "My husband Matthew Adams Hartmann, VII was," she waved her hand, ordering. "Matt, ya gets these nice city people some cold drinks."

"Okey dokey! Yes, ma'am! From the fridge?" Matt stood, turning and moving to the archway.

"The usual, pass the cans around, Matt." Henrietta said.

Matt left the room, pacing to the kitchen across the hallway, rattling the dishes.

Henrietta grinned without her teeth. "My husband is Matthew Adams Hartmann, VII, a handsome devil like you, sonny, who was tall and blonde just like ya," she pointed to Tom with a giggle.

Tom grinned with a goofy smiled, nodding at the kind compliment.

The front row sat from the left of Henrietta: Austin, Tom, Peter, and Ethan. The second row of mismatched chairs seated from the left of her: Frank, Stu, Kim, and Phil.

Matt returned, holding a tarnished silver serving tray of cans of chilled beer, saying with a grin to Kim. "Ladies, first. Pick one, ma'am?"

Kim hesitated and selected a beer, nodding for the nice gesture.

Matt shifted down the line to Phil as he waved his hand and not taking an alcoholic drink during his working hours.

Matt circled the row and stood in front of the first seat of the second row.

Frank grabbed a beer. "Thank you, Sheriff Matt." He placed the unopened beer can underneath his chair and viewed Stu.

Stu picked a beer and popped the tab with a swish. "Thanks, Matt." He nosily gulped the cool beverage and grinned, turning with a sour frown to see Frank, whispering. "Don't start, Frank?"

Frank shook his skull with a grin. The strange people and stranger atmosphere were starting to entice his raw nerve endings. He had selected a beer due to the fact that he might need a numbing sip, if the conversation headed to another dimension like the twilight zone.

Matt shuffled to Austin. Austin selected a beer, saying with a nod and a smile of polite manners. "Thanks, Matt."

Tom leaned over the tray, picking up a beer with a right hand and gingerly touches a second beer with his other finger.

Austin turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Tom. "One, take only one, Tom."

Tom removed his hand from the tray, saying with a nod. "Fine. Thanks, Matt," he popped the tab of his beer and nosily slurped the cool liquid.

Matt grinned to Austin, "Got plenty more beer in the fridge. He can have more than one, Austin."

Austin nodded to him. "Thank you, Matt. I'll remember that."

Matt slid to Peter. In a surprise maneuver, Dr. Mowran took a beer and placed the cold beverage underneath his chair, saying with a nod of polite manners. "Thanks."

Ethan passed on the beverage, waving with his hand before Matt advanced. "No thank you, sheriff."

Matt exited the row and dumped his ass into the same dirty lounge chair in the rear of the room, placing the tray down on the dirty carpet, popping the beer can, drinking.

Austin shook his skull at the informal meeting.

Tom finished his beer and burped.

Stu kicked the rear on Tom's assigned seat for his bad manners as Tom yelped. Frank and Stu chuckled. Austin grinned.

Mrs. Hartmann looked to each face, saying with a nod and a toothless grin. "The Boyer folks all came from old great-grandpa Matthew Adam Hartmann, the first. His boy is Matthew Adam Hartmann, the second. We call Grandpa Matt and his brother, the owner there of the old cotton plantation. He's Big Matt. I's figuring ya'll wants to knows who's who around here. All the boys have nicknames like Tiny Matt, and Young Matt, and Smart Matt, and Dumb Matt, and Dead Matt, Sick Matt..."

Peter cleared a throat, saying with a nod and a smile to her. "Mrs. Hartmann, we understand that the list of male heirs reflects an identifiable type of personality trait which is related to a mental, physical, or combination of the two biological conditions."

Tom chuckled. "Well put, moron!"

Peter turned with a fake smile to see Tom. "Mowran, my name is French."

"Wee! Wee!" Tome giggled. Stu leaned down and reached out, slapping Tom on the rear hairy blonde colored skull. Tom sneered from the hand impact of Stu with a gasp. "Hey!" He turned around and stared with a sour frown at Stu.

Stu grinned. Frank rushed a finger up to the lips in silence at Tom while signaling the well-known sign language: shut the fuck up.

Austin quickly reached out and grabbed Tom by the arm, keeping Sawyer from swinging out of the chair to attack Stu or Frank or maybe both his brothers at the same with brotherly annoyance. Tom turned around and stared with a growl at Henrietta while watching the action.

Ethan nodded with a smile to Henrietta. "Every male coming from the Hartmann family is named Matthew Adam Hartmann, which is followed by a Roman numeral whole number."

"How many Roman numeral whole numbers are there?" Tom jointed the chat with a snigger like Austin had ordered.

"Matt, can you answer Sonny's question?" Henrietta turned and winked to Tom as Tom giggled.

"Do ya mean the population of our town Boyer?" Matt sat in the last row in the rear of the room with a puzzled brow at Henrietta.

"That would do nicely, Matt." Tom nodded with a smile to Henrietta.

"One-hundred-sixty-seven, the population of farm town Boyer" Frank shouted out loud with a smile.

Tom spun around with a puzzled brow to see the smile on Frank. "How in the shitty hell and bloody fuck do you know that information, Frank?"

"The lovely sign that was posed outside the pristine city limits tells the number of good citizens who live and reside here within the sweet township of Boyer," Frank nodded with a smile at Tom.

"No one likes a fucking smartass, Frank." Tom turned back with a frown and stared at the bed frame.

"Quiet, Tom!" Austin leaned over with a soft whisper into the eardrum on Tom.

Ethan nodded with a smile to her. "Please continue, Mrs. Hartmann."

She grinned with no teeth. "Me be named Henrietta. Me husband be named Matt the eighth. He be number eight boy born to great-grandpa Hartmann. I calls him 'Henry the eighth' after that royal king man in England with the eight fat wives. My Henry ain't got no eight wives but me. And I likes that royal name. My Henry teases me with a beheading, if I gots fat or fucked another man or took his money. My Henry teases me..."

Ethan cleared a throat with a fake smile. "Mrs. Hartmann! Henrietta, we want to ask you a question. Do you know one person that is named Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell?"

"Who that?" She frowned at Ethan.

"They call that girl, Katt." Matt shouted out loud with a smile coming from the rear wall.

She screamed and tossed both hands and the pair of mismatched bedroom slippers into the air. "Katt, did ya'll find that fucking bitching whore? Where she at? Matt, ya gone and tells me that she's dead. She died. She buried just like my Henry," she dropped both the feet down onto the foot stool while continuing to wave both hands in the air above her hair roots.

Matt frowned. "She is..."

"Shut up, Matt! Ya be a coward just like your daddy, who be a fucking asshole. The fucking whore be alive and enjoying life and my Henry is dead, dead, dead..." Henrietta sobbed with tears of sadness and planted a sad face down into the hand towel.

Ethan gasped. "Mrs. Hartmann, do you know where Katt is? We are looking for her..."

"Naw!" Henrietta dropped the towel down into the lap and looked up with a sour frown to see Ethan. "I be gawd damned and crucified. These fine folks found that fucking little whore. Go and get and bring her back here for proseecutement, Matt! These fine peoples here about time to help me after ten long, long gawd damn years."

Ethan exhaled. "Mrs. Hartmann, you are misunderstanding me. Katt is alive. We are searching for her too."

She frowned at Ethan. "Why ya want that fucking whore? What that bitch done did to ya'll?"

"We are gathering as much as possible data which includes information about her, her home town, her family..."

"That fucking whore gots no family! She be a fucking bitching whore like her dead mama."

"We were told that she didn't have any more family members. Is that correct, Mrs. Hartmann?"

"That be right, sir! Thanks to my Henry. He sees to them being gone."

"Them? Are you referencing her immediate family members?"

"Them Injuns. They be her only family left. Guess so? But, they be gone and died some years back. Matt, when them those Injuns die out there?"

"Eleven years ago, Henrietta." Matt shouted out loud coming from the rear wall.

"That be right, sir! They be died right there on my Henry's land. We be bury them there, cause the state government office peoples made us. No other place. Injuns buried on my daddy's good fertile crop land," Henrietta sneered with a nod.

Peter shook a skull with confusion. "This is getting rather confusing to me, Mrs. Hartmann."

"What kinds of doctor are ya, honey child?" Henrietta turned and winked with a grin at Peter.

"I am a practicing medical psychiatrist, ma'am."

"Can you fix me my arthritic hip? Damn thing bothers the tar of me, when we gets rain."

"No ma'am! I'm not a surgeon, ma'am. You need to see another kind of physician."

She reached over and grabbed, drinking the beverage while rubbing the arching hip. She sipped and swallowed the liquid, dropping the beverage back down between her legs with a sour frown at Peter. Well, it be worth a try. Ya gawd damned doctors all the same. Give ya fucking money. Ya fix it up to be all right. Well, I don't gots fucking money to get my hip fixed."

"You are misunderstanding me, again, Mrs. Hartmann. Arthritis cannot be cured. There is not any operation for your pain but medicines. I would be happy to prescribe an inflammatory dosage for your hip pain."

She parted the lips. "Ya do that for me, honey."

Peter smiled with a nod. "Yes ma'am! I'm part of the state of Florida Public Health Department and can provide you with the proper drug medications."

She waved a hand and a smile with a nod. "Fine! Tell me! What do ya'll nice folks need from em, honey child!"

"Excellent! Why don't we start at the beginning? How do you know Katt?"

She frowned. "If my old memory serves, she be borns to them Injun people on my Henry's house at Baker Avenue. It be a nice house, before them. They trashed it, drew crap on the walls. Never mowed the grass. My Henry gots help for that. She be birthed around the time of my kid. My kid be a precious little angel. She be a good kid and goes schooling to be a doctor to help my hip," she reached down and lifted up, sipping and swallowed the liquid with a smile, placing the tumbler down between her two legs that lounged on top of the foot stool. "That stupid bitching whore's too dumb. No school. She fucked men to gots rent and food. She be a fucking whore that go no school with my kid. No sir! Not allow. No decent mama in Boyer let her near our pure sweet kids. She be taught by that old bitch at the library. What her name, Matt?"

"Mrs. Oldford." Matt shouted out coming from the rear of the room.

She giggled with a nod, "Oldfart."

Tom giggled as Stu leaned over and slapped a hand into the chair with Tom. Sawyer gasped in alarm. "Hey!"

She chuckled. "Funny! Ain't it, sonny? Oldfart, the snobby library woman here with her mighty school degree. She gives them kids books about school. My kid's too smart for Oldfart. Oldfart gives books and shit for school. No school. She be too dumb. That pretty much it! She be lived with that old witch. I told ya that Injun girl charmed Loco Matt into killing his self for that golden shiny pocket watch that came from his grandpa. That old witch wanted it to pawn for money. The next morning, poor Loco Matt be dead. The old witch be alive, laughing about it," she pulled up the tumbler from between her legs and slurped the beverage, dropping it back down between her legs, saying with a smile to Tom. "Cause her Injun mama and daddy died with a strange disease and then they be buried in my daddy's good crop land with them other Injuns. Katt raised by that witch. What was her name, Matt?"

"Dokey," Matt shouted out coming from the rear wall.

Ethan nodded with a fake smile. "Mrs. Hartmann, do you recall if any of the deceased American Indian relatives for Katt were autopsied by a local or maybe a state physician here at the Medical Clinic of Boyer?"

She frowned. "Why for? They be dead. They be Injuns. They be gone. Good ridden! I says," she lifted up and sipped, swallowing the beverage, dropped it down between the legs again with a sour frown.

Peter turned and nodded to the nose profile on Ethan. "We can arrange something later in the day regarding that matter, Ethan."

"Huh! That a question for me?" She turned and stared with a puzzled brow at Peter. He turned and shook a skull in silence to Henrietta. She exhaled. "Well, before that old Injun died, that whore runs away and leaves that the old Injun to die all alone with no rent, no food, no money. My Henry pays. Make me mad! My Henry cares for that fucking whore gives money and..." she lifted up and gulped, swallowing the beverage of brown liquor, placing it back down between the legs with a smile.

Ethan nodded with a fake smile to her. "Thank you so kindly for your information, Mrs. Hartmann. Please allow me to summarize quickly! Katt was orphaned here as a baby, raised by another lady who was named Dokey, and then home schooled by Mrs. Oldford, who worked inside a library classroom, where Katt studied there rather than a traditional school environment and then left town..."

"Naw!" She shook the curls with a sour frown. "Fucking whore don't leave. Whore be escaped. Matt let her get away. Ya be a fucking asshole, Matt. The whore be pregnant," she sobbed with tears and leaned down, planting a sad face down into the towel again. She dropped down the towel into lap and lifted up, gulping the beverage, placing the beverage back down between the legs with a smile. Then she lifted up the towel and blew a red tinted nose in the course fabric.

Ethan leaned forward from the chair and turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Austin. "Was Kattleen Kattrell really pregnant with a child, Austin? Do we have any type of factual confirmation about this anywhere in the state of Florida medical database?" He sat back and spun around to see the other faces of the team. "Does anyone have any more information to share with me?"

"The FBI records didn't state that she was pregnant." Phil leaned down and whispered into eardrum on Ethan. "But I'll double check that new clinical information with my office when I return back to the hotel."

Henrietta burped out loud with a frown at Ethan. "She be sold that kid for money. Hookers do that all the time. Don't ya'll law men know nothings? She escapes with the kid for money, moves to a new town, starts fucking men again. Whore be too stupid to get a job like my good kid. She fucks, fucks, fucks to gots money, money, money from men, men, men for food, rent, shorty short dresses. She struts on street with her ass hanging out of her short skirts and hooker heels. My Henry likes that fucking look on cute young girls, 'cause he fucked her, too," she sobbed with tears and reached down, grabbing the beverage between the legs, lifting up, slurping on the tumbler, and placed it back down between the legs, looking with a smile at Ethan. "She gots a baby. When my Henry says no take care of her and her kid, the bitch whore kills my Henry," she sobbed with tears and planted a face down in the dirty towel again.

Ethan turned to stare at the nose profile on Peter. Peter stared at her.

Austin looked down to see both hands. Frank turned and frowned to Stu. Stu shrugged with a puzzled brow at Mangrove.

Tom gasped in alarm at Henrietta. Kim stared at Henrietta. Phil looked down and wrote down all the missing data into a palm sized notepad.

Henrietta recovered from her wailing, saying in a calm husky voice and a nod to Ethan. "My Henry's a nice man, good provider, kind father, devoted husband. He gots lots of lots of old farts at the Home. My Henry needs help with them old farts. Get food, books, and shit to them old farts, after all them nice nurses leaves. My Henry smart to gots the young girls. I not like it. My Henry says girls cheap at one dollar pays per hour. Well, I not like it, but my Henry needs them 'cuz that no good bastard sorry doc. What his name, Matt?"

"Dan Wingo." Matt said from the rear wall.

"That no good bastard blackmails my Henry then gots our money. After my Henry dies, no money. Wingo takes it without me telling too. Fired him, after my Henry dies. Never sees his ass again." She tossed her arms and her feet in the chair, wiggling side to side, laughed and hooted and stopped, reaching to the side table and pouring a bottle of brown liquid into her tall tumble. She slurped and swallowed, saying with a nod and a toothless grin to Ethan. "Fight him. I gots some damn lawyer take back my money. Like gawd damn doctors, ya don't gots them damn money, ya no get it fixed," she exhaled with a puff of exhaustion, slumping her bod forward in the chair.

"Did Katt work for one dollar per hour at Mr. Hartmann's nursing home business?" Ethan asked.

"No." Henrietta looked up to see Ethan.

"No." Ethan frowned.

"No." Phil frowned.

"No." Peter frowned.

Henrietta parted her lips, looking around the walls. "Does this room echo?"

Tom snorted. "No." Stu popped his foot into the rear on Tom's chair as Sawyer yelped from the physical impact into his shoulder blades.

"No. Ain't ya got ears? No." She said in angry to Ethan.

Ethan nodded. "Mrs. Hartmann, allow me to clarify fully for everyone's attention? Katt did not work at the Boyer Nursing Home which was owned by Mr. Hartmann."

She jabbed a finger at Ethan. "Right ye be, bubba."

Ethan frowned. "If she did not work at the home, then how did you know about Katt and your..."

"Ya sick folks all ears. Huh!?" Henrietta grinned with a toothless smile and giggled.

"Go ahead." Tom leaned forward with his elbows on top of his kneecaps, straining for every dirty word.

She said. "The kids work on Friday nights and my Henry works on Sunday nights. No like it. Not good to work on the Lord's Day. My Henry gots lots of old farts, them old people. They comes outs his ears. Some sick. Some cry. Some happy. Some die. Lots of them farts die. Dying every day. Sick bitches and bastards. Made me puke to go into the Home. Smell funny all the time, them dying bodies everywhere. No go to the office with my Henry. My Henry cares for them dead bodies too. My job gets more bodies, I mean, breathing old farts fill them empty beds. My Henry pays lots for old farts in beds, not the other way around. Call and visit old folks around here, up there, in the other towns, this way, that way, up there, and down there." She pointed to the wall which represented the different geographical directions of east, west, north, and south, indicating the different roadways from Boyer Nursing Home. She paused and gulped her beverage and deeply breathed, coughing and wiping off her mouth with the towel, and viewed Ethan, saying with a nod and a grin. "I be a good wife helps my Henry with the Home. I married the next day, after we fucked our first love date. I love him. He fucks me long, hard, and good. Good. Ah. So nice. Never forget good fucking. My Henry's pecker's seven inches long, ya know," she spaced her hands about four inches in distance for the visual demonstration and dropped her hands, lifting and drinking from the beverage.

Austin reached down and grabbed the beer, popping the tab on his beer and sipped a gulp.

Frank reached down and grabbed the beer too, breaking the tab and downed his beer also.

Stu snorted. Ethan turned to stare at the nose profile on Peter.

Peter looked down to the floor.

Kim stared at her.

Phil chuckled.

Tom giggled. "Continue..."

Stu slammed his fist into the rear chair on Tom.

Tom yelped and sat upright, turning with a sour frown to see the grin on Gage, and swung around, reaching down and grabbing Peter's beer and asked with a polite tenor. "May I?" Peter nodded in silence, viewing Mrs. Hartmann. Tom lifted the beer and pulled the tab, downing half of the beer for the anticipation of her nasty story.

Henrietta finished gulping the beverage and placed it between her legs, saying with a grin and a nod to Ethan. "Good sex. Good fucking wife. Why? Why he do it? Not understand," she sobbed with tears and blew her red nose in the hand towel and stopped, lifting and gulping the beverage.

Tom quickly comprehended that the brown liquid was bourbon whiskey and not prune juice and leaned his elbows on top of his kneecaps, saying with a nod and a giggle. "Go on, Mrs. Hartmann..."

Stu slammed both his fists in the rear on Tom's chair.

Tom yelped and sat upright, turning with a sour frown to see Stu again and silently mouthed the word: asshole. Then he swung around to face Mrs. Hartmann, leaning onto his kneecaps, grinning.

Henrietta said with a nod and a toothless grin to Ethan. "Sunday night, the night of our Lord, I remember. My Henry works days and nights. Fucking whore knows it. Fucking whore, no go to church. Ain't baptized a Christian, but murderers never is." Snot ran down her red inflamed nostrils. Wet tears flowed down her red chapped cheeks. Henrietta closed her eyelashes, lifting and blowing her nose on the hand towel, and opened her eyelashes, lifting and gulping the whiskey. "Sunday, at six at night, I's in bed. Gots up to pee and sees lights in my Henry's office in the Home. My Henry works late haves trouble with money. Decides to cheer him happy, ya know. Gives him a surprise happy fucking in the office. No like stinky office in the Home, but my Henry needs me and needs fucking. We fucks to music," she sung a musical tune with her off-key voice and said, "...on desks, on tables, in floors, in chairs. He give great fucks. His pecker long, ya know." She grabbed the banana from the fruit bowl next to her chair, holding it between her fingers. "His pecker...long." She giggled and squeezed the banana with her thumb and her index finger, closing her eyelashes, leaning into the chair. She tossed her skull back against the head rest, kicking up her feet, grinning and giggling.

Frank looked down to see his hands. Austin shook his skull. Stu grinned. Ethan stared down at his notepad. Kim looked to the wall. Phil laughed.

Peter looked up to see the ceiling.

Matt played with his police night stick.

Tom sipped the beer, draining the second can, and leaned forward to Mrs. Hartmann, holding the empty beer can between his hands.

Henrietta grunted and dropped the squashed banana in her lap, lifting and gulping the whiskey, and placed it between her legs, wiping off her wet lips on the hand, viewing Ethan. "I's open the door. Sees it! Sees my Henry buck naked on the desk, spread eagle. That whore's ass with her long black hair on his pecker, holding his treasure in her hand, massages it. I scream loud, loud. Fucking whore no sees me. She says to me, 'stay and watch.' I scream all the way home cry, cry, cry, cry night and day. My Henry not comes home for supper, the next day. Walk back to the office. Door closed. Knocks. No answer. Knocks. No answer. Open door. My Henry on desk spread eagle passed out from drinking. Touch his face cold and blue. Remember. His face blue, not white. I scream. Nurse comes and tells me...tells me...my Henry dead. He dies. That fucking little whore murders my Henry. She fucked him to death."

Tom roared with uncontrollable laughter.

Stu slammed both his fists into the rear on Tom's chair.

Tom launched forward as Austin caught Tom by the arm. Berrington stood and hugged Tom, keeping Sawyer out of trouble.

Tom continued to laugh and smile.

Stu and Frank stood with the other distinguished visitors.

Peter stood, saying with a nod. "Mrs. Hartmann, we are very sorrow for your loss. Please accept our condolences."

"My drugs?" Henrietta smiled.

"Of course." Peter pulled out his physician prescription pad and scribbles the medication, moving to the edge of her foot stool, slipping the paper into her outstretched hand.

"Thanks, doc." Henrietta snatched and read the paper.

Peter swung around, trailing behind Phil, Kim, and Ethan out the home and to the roadway. They huddled around the sedan, talking. Then they all entered the car, traveling back to the Pensacola Hotel.

Austin and Frank left the house.

Stu dragged Tom by the arm as Tom giggled and stumbled down the rotten planks, the loose gravel, and clay dirt inside Stu's arms. Sawyer say with a nod and a grin. "Great fucking story. Got a hard on. Shit. Where my wife? Where's Jane? Call Jane, my wife, Frank?"

"Frank." Austin stared at Tom.

Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance, saying with a sour frown to Tom. "I have my medical kit inside the trunk. I'm giving him a sedative, before he does something that we all regret," he moved to the trunk, rapping on the trunk as the driver popped the hood.

"Frank, you're a medically certified physician. Ya don't mix drugs with alcohol, ever. You might kill Thomas." Stu said with worry, hugging on Tom with concern from evil doctor Frank.

Calm, cool, collected, and controlled Franklin was one vicious devious evil bastard with his medicines and his monies and not a tender hearted person with their baby bro's silly asinine antics in front of the guests.

"We won't get that lucky, Stu." Austin grinned to Stu, who cradled Tom.

Frank returned, carrying his medications, saying with a wicked smirk and a nod. "He'll live today in a semi-conscious state but loopy."

"Loopy?" Stu frowned.

"Silly. Giggling. Worse case, he'll vomit the contents of beer from his stomach." Frank rummaged inside his bag for the medication.

"You hold him." Stu tossed Tom to Frank, since Gage loved Tom more without the stinky vomit on his new leathers.

"A little help here." Frank grabbed Tom as Austin jerked a wiggling Tom from Frank and held him upright. Mangrove frowned. "Hold him still," he jerked the jacket off Tom and rolled back the dress shirt sleeve. Frank forcefully stabbed a tiny hypo needle into Tom's lower forearm muscle.

"Ouch." Tom yelped and hissed, slumping into Austin.

"No band. No vein. No blood." Stu touched Tom's arm with the medical procedure.

"New technology." Frank held the one inched devise in the air between his index finger and his thumb. "This little tap needle contains .002 ounces of sedative or any other not-so-nice pharmaceutical, you desire to administrator to an annoying person. Tiny. Convenience. Simple. Easy," he grinned and viewed Tom.

"Expensive." Austin viewed the tap needle.

"That too but efficient." Frank studied Tom's medical condition.

Tom closed his eyelids, swaying left to right between Austin's hands.

"Is he okay?" Stu said with worry, since Frank enjoyed his pretend medical role and his real tap needles way too much like the mystical and madman Dr. Jackal.

"Ask him?" Frank replaced the empty needle into his medical bag.

Stu yelled at Tom. "Hey, Thomas. Are the Miami Pirates going to win the championship, this year?"

Tom flung his arms, popping open his eyelids and yelled. "Hell yeah. Going the Rose Bowl kicking the California's ass fucking westerns." Stu laughed with Austin and Frank.

"Who does he sit with?" Austin asked.

All the eyeballs slid to each other's face and turned to stare at the limo. Then the three brothers chanted in unison, "The front."

6:23 p.m.

City of Pensacola (thirty miles southeast of Boyer)

PENSACOLA HOTEL

Private dining room setting

Warm temperatures and bright sunshine

Matt flipped to the next page of the document and sawed his steak, cramming it into his mouth, chewed three times and swallows, reading out loud the paper. "Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell birthday's on Thursday, March third, parents of Eve and Clover Kattrell. They died mysteriously three days after her birth," he flipped the page with the wooden handle of the sharp knife, reading out loud. "Buried on Henry's land just like Henrietta told," he sawed the bloody steak with his sharp knife.

Frank gently yanked the stack of legal documents from Matt, before the cow blood stained the pages, "May I?"

"Okey dokey." Matt nodded and charged into his meal.

Frank reviewed the next page, flipping back to the first page, studying the entire contents of legal documents in silence.

Austin ate his dinner meal on the left of Frank.

Tom slumped down on his elbows on the butt-end of the table on the opposite side of Matt.

Stu sat on the left on Tom next to Austin.

Peter was crashed between Kim and Ethan. Kim finished her dinner and shifted away from Matt's flinging elbows, his hands, and his sharp knife.

Frank flipped to the third page, reading out loud. "The Indian woman is called Running Doe which was named by the remaining Indian clan. The clan lives in the last corn fields of a tiny Indian Reservation with a population of four which is located near the Hartmann's farm land. Her Christian name was registered with the US Federal Government database as Dakota Hartmann. Dakota means 'friend' in the Native American Indian language. And finally, in the County of Escambia and the township of Boyer, all farm land is purchased and owned by Matthew Adam Hartmann, the first."

"Great Grandpa Hartmann." Matt chewed.

"Frank!?" Tom looked down to his plate of uneaten food.

"Are you sick, Tom?" Austin said with a sour frown, since he was outvoted two to one and could not veto himself as the babysitter for the night. He must oversee his mischievous baby brother's asinine behavior until Tom's bedtime.

"The acreage provided cotton bolls for selling and soybeans for the livestock." Frank said and read in silence the rest of the pages for any other related topics of Kattleen, Kattrell.

Tom stared at his full plate of uneaten food. "Frank, I don't..."

"What's wrong, Tom?" Frank reviewed the papers.

"Don't feel sick. Don't feel hungry. Don't understand, Frank. The food looks so good." Tom continued to stare down at his full plate of food.

"Eat up, boy. Jobelle, she's the bestest cook, this side of the Mississippi." Matt chewed, staring at the hair roots on Tom, waving his utensils.

"The rest of the pages contain information datum and financial formulas regarding land, fees, and township plots." Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Tom, you'll not be hungry for another two hours. Drink some water. You're a fine and healthy fourth," he chuckled and closed the paper folder, storing it in the middle of the table and away from the flying cow blood.

"I'm going to starve to death." Tom stared down to his full plate of uneaten food, "I'm hungry."

"Folks called her the old medicine witch. Kattleen, with two t's, shorten it to Dokey, when she was a tiny tot and couldn't say Dakota. It stuck. Then Dakota shorten Kattleen's name to Katt, 'cuz Kattleen liked the little furry critters, running around their home on Baker Avenue." Matt chewed, waving the flying utensils.

Austin grinned, cutting into his food. "That's cute. Kattrell. Kattleen. Katt with two t's."

The door sounded with two knocks.

"Open." Matt blew his chewed food bites across the table.

The door opened.

A male looked around the wood and smiled, entering with a uniform and a hat, carrying an overnight express letter package. "I got a package for Dr. Austin Berrington, the fourth."

"Here. I'll sign for it." Tom waved his hand. The male veered to Sawyer. Tom accepted and scribbled on the electronic pad, forging Austin's name, and returned the electronic device back to the male, saying with a nod and a smile. "Here. Thanks, man."

The male nodded, turning and leaving the room.

"That's forgery, Tom." Stu chuckled and chewed his food.

"Shut up, Stu. I'm hungry, tired, and not in the mood for your off-the-wall fucking humor." Tom ripped open the package, pulling out the loose papers and read in silence.

"Well." Stu chewed.

"Well, what?" Tom scanned the document.

"You're holding the laboratory reports on the three bodies from the Boyer Nursing Home. Summary the results, Tom. Or give them to Frank, so he can interpret the clinical data as the medical physician present." Austin cut into his food and not viewing Tom.

"I'm as smart or smarter than the gawd damn medical doctor present. Yellow coating of crystallized bilirubin covered all three livers." Tom pinged the papers, saying with a nod and a grin to the other faces.

"Shit. Patient zero started here in Boyer, Florida." Peter frowned. "She did it. Katt killed all these patients from both Miami and here. Unbelievable!"

"Let me see the lab reports, Tom." Frank sat, turning with a frown and motioned for the papers.

Ethan chewed and swallowed, staring at Peter. "Might I remind carefully and cautiously here that Mrs. Hartmann informed us that Miss Kattrell wasn't employed at the Boyer Nursing Home, Peter? Miss Kattrell did not have access to these patients, so logically someone else mysteriously murdered all the older people under Mr. Hartmann's privately owned and operated business."

"Why, Frank?" Tom frowned to Frank and he was fuckingly pissed at his brothers. They betrayed and drugged him this morning. Tom was still unthawing out from a deadly sedative and could not eat, drink, pee, fart, or shit. Tom planned to give his brothers hell for the rest of the night and maybe tomorrow also, pondering that mental thought.

Phil said with a surly tenor. "Well, that blows our case here in Boyer against the girl named Katt. But she's still responsible for the South Florida deaths all 8,063 of them. We'll hang her ass for that," he rapped his fist on the table wood with a nod.

"Tom, hand it over. I want to look at the lab data." Frank stood, extending his arm for the report.

Peter said. "I would rather hang her by the neck muscles and watch her struggle back and forth as the air slowly depletes the esophagus, squeezing the throat tighter unable to suck wind from her mouth and nose as her last breath of life emotionally and seductively stimulates..."

"Tell me what ya wanna know? I'll read it to you, Frank." Tom stood from his assigned seat, holding the papers, and blocked his face of Frank's stupid frown.

Ethan frowned. "Thank you, Dr. Mowran for that detailed explanation of suffocation."

"Tom!?" Frank shoved the chair away from his ass, ordering in angry. "I want those papers," he back stepped and moved to Sawyer.

Tom kicked the chair from his butthole, turning and moving away from asshole Frank.

Peter smiled. "You are most welcome, Dr. Ethan Underhill."

"Ask me your question, Frank? The data looks like the reports from Homestead. I can read 'em to ya like before." Tom cradled the papers to his chest, moving to the archway.

Stu stood, kicking the chair from his ass, turning and moving to Tom before the successful escape from the private dining room of the hotel.

Austin grinned and chewed, watching as his other two brothers enjoyed teasing and badgering Sawyer, especially when he was acting like a true asshole.

Phil slapped Peter's bicep, saying with a nod and a smile. "If I hear correctly, you want to be one of these bodies inside the observation room at the gas chamber pod in Tallahassee then?" His eyeball caught the active commotion on Tom, Frank, and Stu in the wall corner. He slowly stood from his chair, moving around Matt, sitting in Frank's empty chair beside Austin, who enjoyed both his meal and his moment.

"Tom, stop wiggling. You're going to get hurt." Stu held Tom in an arm lock as Frank rustled the lab reports from Tom's shifting hands.

Peter laughed. "Hell, sign me up, now."

Phil watched the huddle. "Are your boys going to beat him up?"

"Miss Kattrell knew some of the other Boyer town's people. I have another citizen that lives here who is named Mrs. Sally Oldford and Mr. Samuel Moore. Can we interview Mrs. Oldford, Matt? Is she dead by chance also?" Ethan turned with a stern face to see Matt.

"They're playing like a pack of curious wild wolf pups." Austin chuckled and sipped the chocolate milk.

"The big guy looks mean." Phil said.

Stu hugged Tom as Frank tickled Tom. Sawyer twisted his arms in a different direction of Frank's attack, giggling and grinning.

"Stu can quickly snap your bone or rip out swiftly any limb from the socket only when extremely provoked, of course. He really is a gentle giant." Austin chewed on the delicious pecan pie.

Matt smiled with food between his molars. "Okey dokey, first thing in the morning, she lives at home but..."

"O gawd, not another one." Peter placed his skull between two palms, dreading the next interview of the next weird Boyerian. Kim smiled. Phil laughed. Austin chewed. Ethan grinned.

Frank exclaimed with a smile. "Got it, Stu. You can let him go," he studied and smoothed out the wrinkled papers.

Stu and Tom still hugged like lovers.

Tom hollered struggling to get free. "Let go."

Stu grunted to Tom's eardrum and tighten his biceps around Tom.

Peter looked down with a sour frown to his notes. "What's the social relationship of Mr. Samuel Moore to Miss Kattleen Kattrell?"

Ethan said. "The computer teacher helped her pass the computer test as stated by Mrs. Hartmann. Miss Kattrell possessed a valid computer certificate when she worked for Charity Kendall Hospital in the IT department which was documented from her personal file that was provided by the Charity Human Resources office."

"We should interview him, as well, tomorrow." Phil said, enjoying the two boys wrestle with each other in the wall corner.

"Let go, Stu. Before, I flip your ass onto the floor in front of our guests." Tom struggled with both his arms and his feet, kicking and punching at the air and not on Gage.

Gage was six feet and six inches of taunt sanguine muscle and more muscle then Tom's six feet and one inches of his daddy's DNA with a slim tall skinny frame. Stu grunted to Tom's eardrum for fun and not letting him go to cause more trouble.

"He's dead about ten years or so." Matt chomped on the pecan pie.

"Austin..." Tom whimpered between Stu's biceps, since he could not escape.

"Stu." Austin said without viewing the dancing pair of brothers.

"Act nice, Tom." Stu released his tight grip immediately, since Austin was the boss of the Quartet. Gage wished that he could be the babysitter over asshole Tom for the rest of the trip, watching Sawyer limp back to his assigned seat at the dining table.

Frank moved and leaned over Austin, whispering softly.

Austin nodded and commanded to Ethan. "Exhume all the dead bodies associated with Miss Kattrell, including Mr. Matthews Adams Hartmann, VIII, Dakota Hartmann, and her extended family members that would be Miss Kattrell's parents, and Mr. Samuel Moore."

Peter frowned to Austin. "Why in the heavens for, Berrington? We have plenty of exhumed graves as hard physical evidence of Kattrell's cold-blooded guilt trip into hell. We just need a ten feet long piece of nylon rope for her neck..."

"Peter, that doesn't answer our wandering question about the extra set of exhumed bodies in Miami." Ethan viewed Austin, who enjoyed the dessert. "Austin?"

"We need to see their pink colored livers." Frank said with a smile and a nod to each face.
Sunday June 13th

8:01 a.m.

Home of Sally Oldford (two miles east from city hall)

Living room setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

The house displayed a set of new yellow paint and a new door frame. The manicured lawn yard bloomed in sets of pretty purple, pink, and white perennials, and summer snapdragons between the porch steps.

"Very nice residence," Ethan stomped up the steps, saying with a nod and a smile to the lawn and trimming.

"She's selling the house." Matt led to the front door archway and knocks three times with his police night stick.

"Mrs. Oldford lives here. Correct, Sheriff Matt?" Frank viewed the gardens, standing between Tom and Stu.

"Her health's very bad. She might die tonight." Matt said and twisted the unlocked door open for the murder interview.

"Nice neighborhood." Tom viewed the pretty flower garden with a smile.

Stu leaned to Tom. "Only if ya got weapons..."

Tom roared with laughter.

Frank elbowed Tom, saying with a sour frown. "Tom, behave." He acted as the substitute babysitter, since Austin was the elected the real babysitter for Tom. But Berrington stood in the rear of the group, chatting with Kim instead of watching over Tom's malicious and mischievous behavior.

Tom parted his lips, pointing to Gage for the silly joke as Frank dragged Tom by the arm into the dark foyer.

Ethan sat in a dining room chair next to Mrs. Oldford.

Mrs. Oldford quietly lounged in her old rocker, wearing a baby blue dress that fell around her ankles, and displayed a broach on her dress collar with a shawl wrapped around her humped shoulders of her fragile body. A pair of leather low heel shoes rested on her feet.

"Mrs. Oldford." He said softly. "I am Ethan. I would like to ask you about Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell." Sally Oldford reacted immediately, smiling sweetly on her wrinkled pale face as Ethan nodded. "Yes ma'am, Kattleen. Please tell me about Kattleen?" Sally scanned the occupied furniture as Ethan says. "No ma'am. Kattleen is not here. Do you have any information to share with us about Kattleen?"

Mrs. Oldford said with a smile and a nod. "O my, Kattleen. How I miss her terribly. She is a very polite and a well-mannered young girl. O my, I noticed Kattleen that one day at the library. She was sitting on the carpet and looking at all the different pictures inside a number of books, lying around her crossed legs. She is a beautiful child with her dark black long wavy hair and a bright smile on her dark tanned skin. Kattleen is part American Indian native from both her parents and tans very dark in the summertime when playing outside in the Florida sun. O my, Kattleen loves to learn. I gave her many books, videos, and tapes of various academic subjects. She learned to read, write, and speak without an academic instructor. She is a very smart beautiful young girl. O my, I remember, now. I tutored her. She did not attend the local high school with the other Boyer children. They are very odd, indeed. The state of Florida allows for homeschoolers with proper grades to graduate with a high school diploma. I tested her along with the other certified teachers here in Boyer. Kattleen passed with the letter grade of A. Kathleen makes very good grades in both math and science studies, so Mr. Moore teaches and tests her for a computer application certificate. She passes with a ninety-one percent. I remember, now. Mr. Moore gave her the certificate the day, after Miss Dokey died. O my, Miss Dokey is a very sick woman. I remember, now. Miss Dokey died, and then after she died I did not see Kattleen, anymore."

"I have a couple of more questions, Mrs. Oldford that I hope you can address for us." Ethan said. "When did Kattleen leave the town of Boyer?"

Sally wrapped her hands around the shawl, looking to Ethan. "O my, in March I believe when she received her new job and quit her working position for Mr. Hartmann."

Peter gasped. "Kattleen Kattrell worked for Henry the eighth. Are you absolutely certain, Mrs. Oldford?"

"O my, Henry the eighth is his nickname. All the Hartmann's have those silly nicknames. I guess they do not have a use for their real Christian names. I remember, now. Kattleen works for the Boyer Nursing Home. O my, Kattleen told me that she worked directly for Mr. Hartmann, the one who owns the Boyer Nursing Home over two more streets from my house. I do not inquire about her private doings, but she works there for Mr. Hartmann until..." she frowned. "O my, I have heard these evil stories too, but I ignore them being a southern lady. Kattleen works for Mr. Hartmann and then he dies. She does not work for him anymore, and then I did not see Kattleen, anymore," she exhaled with a puff of exhaustion.

"Did you know that Katt was carrying a child, Mrs. Oldford?" Ethan asked.

Sally shook a finger at Ethan. "Hush your mouth, sir. Kattleen is not carrying any male's child. She is a very sweet young girl. I guided her social behavior into being a proper southern lady. How dare you start rumors, sir?" She exhaled with a puff of exhaustion, looking down to see her hand in her lap. "I am very tired. Please leave my presence," she wrapped the shawl around her body.

Ethan turned to see Austin.

Austin nodded and stood.

Ethan looked to Sally, saying with a nod and a smile. "Yes ma'am. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Oldford," he stood and followed the Quartet out of the house, huddling with the rest of the investigational team, chatting.

Matt jogged to the dirty pickup truck, showing a postal service sign and parked his elbows inside the open window of the passenger seat.

The driver smiled, "Morning, sheriff."

"Hey, Postie. What'da ya got?" Matt smiled.

Postie read, sitting in the cab. "Get a letter for...uh...d...r...uh...doctor Austin..."

Matt stood and turned to the huddle, waving his arm, catching Austin's attention, and pointed to the truck.

The driver said. "O. It is for Dr. Austin Bartholomew Berrington, number four."

Austin dashed to the pickup truck as the driver handed the envelope. He accepted and looked at the driver, saying. "Thank you. Do I owe your money or a signature?"

Postie smiled to Austin. "Nope. Delivering the mail. Bye, sheriff and buddy." The truck moved down the street to the next mail box.

Austin ripped open the letter, reading in silence, moving back to the Quartet huddle on Tom, Stu, and Frank. The other huddle of Ethan, Phil, Kim, and Peter stood near the sedan, chatting within the group. Austin said. "The laboratory reports are ready for review, Frank," he viewed Tom, commanding. "Ride to the Post Office and retrieve the overnight express package, Tom."

"Me?" Tom viewed and pointed to Mangrove. "Send Frank, the smart ass medical doctor."

Austin dragged Tom by the arm to the police car, sayings with a sour frown. "Because, you have acted like a shit ass the entire trip, so run along while I talk with Ethan about Mrs. Oldford's comments," he instructed to Matt. "Sheriff, can you drive Tom by the Post Office to pick up an awaiting package that contains the information for a new set of laboratory reports sent by the Pensacola Hospital pathology laboratory?"

Matt nodded, scooting to his police car in silence.

"Fuck." Tom frowned, trotting behind Matt and pivoted, jogging backward, displaying his tongue to Austin.

Stu laughed. Frank frowned. Austin stared at asshole Tom.

9:04 a.m.

Police car ride west on Florida Avenue

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

"Hey, man. Can I press the button for the battle field sirens?" Tom reached for the blue button. Matt shook his hat. Tom grinned and reached for the red button. "Hey. Can I flash the white and blue lights for fun?" Matt shook his hat, speeding down the short road to the Post Office in silence. Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, turning to see the flowers, trees, and fields, passing by from his side window.

The police car stopped in front of the City Hall.

Matt killed the engine, taking the car keys, pointing to the building. "Post Office there and wait by the car for me," he scooted out the car and disappeared into the door marked Sheriff's Office.

9:16 a.m.

BOYER CITY HALL

Parked car setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Tom slid out of the police car, into the building, and out of the post office within minutes, walking into the hot sunshine from the cold air conditioned lobby. "The southern part of Alabama is hotter than Miami and hell combined. Fuck." He parked his ass against the police car's passenger door.

Matt was inside working in the cool office of City Hall.

Tom obeyed Matt's strict single police order, muttering. "Boring and abused, too boot," he molested the outside green and white glossy package, daring not to open it.

Austin had promised painfully to punch Tom in the balls black and blue with both his fists, if Tom read the secret lab reports. Old Man had viciously reminded during this morning's breakfast meal that all medical doggie shit was Frank's domain, not Tom's.

Tom uttered to no eardrums, staring at the glossy package. "Know that." He was smart, sometimes, smarter than fucking ass wiping butthole Doctor Frank, since Tom had awesomely translated and interpreted all these stupid laboratory reports from the Miami Hospitals and the Homestead field hospital like Mangrove maybe better, maybe the bestest. He said with a nod and a smile. "Yeah, I'm the bestest of the best. The livers are..."

Tom stared the door and watched for Matt's cowboy hat, pondering all the medical, criminal, and social facts collected so far from the numerous verbal interviews of Mrs. Matthews Adams Hartmann, VII.

Mrs. Hartmann said that Katt had gotten fucked and pregnant by her husband Mr. Hartmann, and then Katt killed Henry by fucking him to death.

However, Mrs. Hartmann claimed that Katt didn't work a job, earning money for rent and food from Henry, taking care of the old stinky farts inside the Boyer Nursing home.

But Mrs. Sally Oldford had confirmed to the special investigational team members that Katt did work a job directly for Mr. Hartmann, but Katt didn't fucked Henry or kill Henry or birthed Henry's baby.

Then there was the medical fact that FBI Phil had not found any baby from a woman named Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell.

Tom shook his bangs. "Missing criminal evidence, not good."

Sheriff Matt did not perform a death autopsy on old hard balls when his wife found Mr. Hartmann the next day, stiff and blue.

He shook his bangs again. "More missed criminal evidence, not good, either." He looked down to see the glossy sealed package with the secret laboratory report that contained the results of the secret colored livers for Hartmann, Dokey, Moore, and the four Native American Indians.

All bodies were exhumed from their restful graves, last night. The bodies were rushed to the pathology lab at Pensacola Hospital.

If Katt was very young and very sweet like Sally told that Katt had left her home town of Boyer to live in Miami then Katt didn't kill her own kin, neighbors, or friends.

He said with a nod and a smile. "Someone else did. Yeah, man. I'm the greatest gawd damn lawyer in the fucking universe. So ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I say that the livers are all normal pink, not yellow. And to asshole Mangrove MD, I wanna see ya perform that slick ass trick," he shifted his ass from the heated metal of the car.

9:19 a.m.

GENERAL STORE (500 yards from city hall)

Tom was thirsty, viewing the closed door of the Sheriff's Office in the City Hall building.

Matt was taking some sweet tea fucking time in his office, collecting verbal messages in a town of 167 people that probably did not possess telephones, televisions, and inside flushing toilets.

He sweated and wiped his face with the handkerchief, moving from the hot car and hotter weather across the street into the local retail store that serviced groceries, drugs, and feed for the township. He smelled the fresh pile of horse shit in the rear of the storage room which was sold as fertilizer for the crops, the gardens, and the flower beds. He slowly moseyed down the aisle, surveying the food items and parked in front of the cold refrigerator, grabbing one bottle of his favorite sodas.

Tom reached for a second soda for his brothers and stopped as he was mad, especially at Austin for bossing his ass around the business meetings like a house servant.

Sawyer was the big badass lead attorney for the fucking prosecution as "the man" on the governor's special appointed investigational team but only he seemed to remember that legal fact.

His brothers could get their own chilled beverages.

Tom moved and scooted the cash register, placing the soda on the counter, surveying the shelves of snacks around the lower wall.

"Looking for something, son," the store clerk smiled and polished the old counter top with old rag.

"Kattleen Kattrell," Tom chuckled, looking at the packages of snacks.

"Saw her the other day," the store clerk cleaned the cash register with the old rag.

Tom looked up with a puzzled frown to see the male. "Shit. Kattleen Kattrell, ya saw her? She was right here," he pointed down to his leathers.

"Nu! Not here, standing over yonder," the store clerk pointed to the street as Tom turned and viewed the cross street. The store clerk said, cleaning the counter. "Across the way at the bus stop. She entered a bus."

Tom parted his lips, swinging back to the store clerk. "Holy fucking shit. Thanks, man." He dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the store counter, grabbing the soda, and rushed across the street, barging into the cool air conditioned office. Matt was reading a gun magazine. Tom panted with excitement. "Matt, the store clerk saw Kattleen Kattrell here in Boyer the other day across the street, getting onto a bus."

"What?" Matt stood as the chair slammed into the wall. He pitched the magazine on his empty desk, rushing and passing Tom out the door.

Tom swung around and raised one arm without the soda, shouting. "Yeehaw," he smiled and chased after Matt.

Matt held his police his utility belt with his big belly gut bouncing up and down and entered the open archway halting and frowning to the store clerk. "Lee, ya saw Katt? Ya say?"

Tom moved and pulled up beside Matt.

Lee nodded to Matt. "Yup. I told the man, a few seconds ago. Katt was over yonder at the bus stop."

Matt said. "Shore it was her, long black hair, short..."

Lee pointed out the window to the bus stop. "Live here, Matt. Remember Katt. She stood over yonder at the bus stop passed lunch time around one or so..."

Matt swung to the door, leaving the general store.

Tom grabbed two packs of crackers, dropping down another twenty-dollar bill for payment and swung around, chasing after Matt, yelling with happiness. "Thanks, man." He moved and scooted into the passenger seat of the police car, chewing on the snack with his rude manners.

9:28 a.m.

Police ride south US Highway 29

Matt started the car, saying with a nod of his cowboy hat. "We all gather the posse and head to the bus terminal in Cantonment. We all ask some questions about her whereabouts for the bus terminal manager," he spun the car around to the highway, leading to the bus terminal.

Tom whipped out his mobile telephone from his jacket, dialing Stu's familiar number, and waited for the connection. "Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, she's here." He chewed on the crackers and sipped the soda.

Pause.

Tom nodded into his mobile telephone. "Matt and I are heading your way. We're going to the bus terminal in Cantonment just follow us." He chewed on the crackers and sipped the soda again.

Pause.

"How do I know? Listen up, I went into the store to get a soda..."

Pause.

The Quartet limo waited and intersected the police car the highway, watching the car pass and lead the convey to the bus terminal station.

Matt turned onto the highway as the limo fell behind Matt along with the Ethan's sedan. The three vehicles formed a mini-parade in a straight line to the small town of Cantonment, Florida.

Stu punched Frank's mobile telephone into a three-way telecommunication conversation between Stu, Frank, and Tom. Austin did not carry a mobile phone always sharing with Stu.

Tom frowned into his mobile telephone. "Fuck you, Gage. Do ya wanna hear my gawd damn story or not?" He ate the crackers and sipped the soda.

Pause.

"Lookie, I went into the store to get a cool drink and then the store clerk asked me if I wanted..."

Pause.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank! I'm getting to the gawd damn part..."

Pause.

"The store clerk asked me if I wanted something. I say that I wanted Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell."

Pause.

"It was a fucking joke, asshole."

Pause.

"The store clerk told me that she was standing at the bus stop, the other day."

Pause.

"The other day, asshole. Not today, not yesterday, not the day before, since it was the other day. Fuck, pay closer attention, Frank."

Pause.

"Yeah, the store clerk is absolutely positive on her identification. Yes, Matt questioned him being the sheriff..."

Pause.

"The store clerk described Katt to a big letter 'T' with her long black hair..."

Pause.

"She entered the bus, right!"

Pause.

"No, asshole, no one stopped her."

Pause.

"Jeezus Christ, she ain't under arrest, yet. We gotta..."

Pause.

"We're investigating the murder. Remember, Austin? Jeezus Christ..."

Pause.

"She got on the bus. Matt says the bus is scheduled to stop at the main terminal in the city of Cantonment, coming from the town Boyer."

Pause.

Tom nodded. "That's all."

Pause.

He exhaled. "That's it."

Pause.

He shook his bangs, frowning into his mobile telephone, "No, jackasses in triplicate. I'm not holding back any more gawd damn fucking information."

Pause.

"Same to you, asswipes." Tom disconnected the telephone call, shaking his bangs, placing the empty soda can and the empty packs of crackers crumbs on the floor between his leathers, brushing his hands on his new pair of trousers. "Fuck them all. You'd think I've stolen the queen's tiara. Everyone's tense. Everyone's suspicious. Everyone's fucking loco," he viewed the speeding road, holding his finger at the button, saying with a smile and a nod to Matt. "Hey. Can I press the battle field sirens now?"

"Go ahead," the cowboy hat nodded.

Tom pressed the button. The police horn siren blasted loudly as Tom giggled and grinned, covering both his ears.

Matt nodded. "Punch the lights too. We need to make more room on the roadway for speeding."

Tom flipped the switch as the police car emergency lights blinked red then blue, complementing the ear-piercing sirens, "Hot damn, yes, sir." Tom clapped and bounced in his seat, wearing his safety belt for protection.

The slowly cars, trucks, vans, and other vehicles quickly pulled over into the far right lane of the highway as Matt drove in the left lane of highway.

Sawyer jabbed a manicured finger at the roadway, yelling. "Let's go faster, Matt."

Matt grinned under the hat and pressed the gas pedal to the floor board.

Tom spotted the limousine which fell further behind in the rear view mirror, laughing and bouncing with excitement. His mobile telephone rung. Tom held the device to his face, seeing the familiar telephone of Stu, shaking his bangs. "Them fucking ass wipes..."

"Going to answer your phone?" Matt looked at the highway, driving in exceed speeds.

Tom shook his bangs with a sour frown. "Hell, no. They can wait. We're going to the same gawd damn place on planet Earth." Matt chuckled. Tom turned with a stern face to see the cowboy hat. "If Katt got off in the city of Cantonment, then where would she go next?"

He exhaled with a huff, driving. "Well, Katt don't own a car and takes the bus from Boyer. That's means to me that she ain't got no transportation to nowhere. So's, she can't get to Bama, since the Alabama state line's less than an hour's drive in a car due north on this here highway. And she don't possess a Bama license, just a Florida one as a home-grown Floridian gal. Then she must've got a bus ticket for the next city somewhere in Florida, maybe even back to her home to that big city of Miami."

Tom raised his arms, saying with a smile and a nod. "If Miss Kattrell is heading back to Miami, then there's a shit load of QA guards who are watching and waiting for her pretty petite ass. We got her."

"We got her." Matt sped faster in the police car.

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "Hot damn. Fly like the wind, Matt. This is so fucking cool." His mobile telephone rung every three seconds and Tom linked the telephone connection and waited for 1.2 seconds and cut the telephone call, laughing with a nod. "Take that, assholes."

"Your friends going to get mad at ya, son." Matt drove.

Tom slapped his chest, saying with a nod and a grin. "I'm the man here. Anyways, I don't know any more gawd damn information about this then you do, Matt. You'll protect me, right? Back me up?" He viewed the cowboy hat, since you could not see Matt's eyebrows and his eyeballs but only his mouth.

"Ten-four, deputy." Matt chuckled as Tom danced in the passenger seat of the police car.

10:10 a.m.

City of Cantonment (20 miles southwest from Boyer)

CANTONMENT BUS TERMINAL

Lobby setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The police car barely slowed at the green traffic light, turning wildly to the right a higher rate of normal speed. Matt screeched all four tires and straightened the vehicle, slamming the brakes and parked illegally in front of the emergency fire hydrant near the bus terminal doors.

Tom scooted out, seeing the limo carefully maneuver around the ninety degree turn at the street corner, blocking the path of Ethan's sedan which held Kim, Peter, and Phil.

Matt rushed into the bus terminal, flashing his police badge, asking for the "manager on duty." Within seconds of the verbal order, the light brown head of hair plus matching light brown beard of a male approached from the right of Matt.

Austin led the investigative team from left.

Phil and Matt both flashed their police badges together to the bus terminal manager.

The male studied the law enforcement badges and the separate individuals with his narrowed eyelids, saying with a nod. "All right. I am Mr. Parsons. I am the operations manager of this facility. Please follow me. We will work together away from the busy public terminal, answering all your questions," he moved and turned, leading down to a dark hallway, a different avenue from the main bus terminal.

The team marched down a quiet interior hallway away from the paying passengers.

Parson stopped and opened a side door as the team entered and lined the wall of the small cramped dark room. Parson entered and stood behind the control booth.

The audio-visual room held nine separate television screen which recorded the employees, passengers, and visitors inside the main bus terminal. He tapped the employee on the shoulder for dismissal.

The employee stood and left the room.

Parson assumed the seat, posing his hands over the keyboard, saying with a stern face. "All right. Please provide me the correct spelling of the proper name for the bus passenger."

Phil and Matt stood on each side of Parson. Phil said with a nod, watching Parson type on the keyboard. "Kattleen Kattrell. k.a.t.t.r.e.l.l."

Parson typed and waited for the computer's results, nodding. "I do not find a person with the last name of k.a.t.t.r.e.l.l. Is there another name, married perhaps?"

Phil turned with a sour frown to see Matt. "She used an alias."

Parson nodded. "If you do not have the correct name of this individual then perhaps the video surveillance camera has captured the individual, interacting with our bus agent while collecting her paid ticket on the bus. If you know the physical description of the individual, then I can access our cameras footage, from the past two days ago. Is that correct, Sheriff?" He tapped the keyboard as a colored video pops on the computer screen. Parson said, pressing a button. "This is fast at 2.5 frames per second. Everyone watch for the person of interest."

The bus terminal colored camera film moved with a stage of upright figures that walked over floor.

And then the next frame showed.

The female possessed a head of long black hair which fell underneath a baby blue colored baseball cap on her five feet petite frame, wearing a pair of baby blue shorts, a matching baby blue shirt, and a pair of baby blue sneakers. She passed the ticket booth and moved into Port C, disappearing completely from the camera view.

Matt jabbed a finger at the computer screen, yelling. "Stop. Replay that sequence." Parson typed as the same frame repeated with the same movement of the same female. Matt pointed to the screen, saying with a nod and a stern face. "That's her. Katt loves the color baby blue. She wears it, every day. See there, the girl has black hair and five feet tall. That's the only a girl matching that description on the video. That's her? What's Port C?"

Parson typed, saying with a nod. "The Port C bus and passengers will travel to Tallahassee first, and then onto Jacksonville, Daytona Beach, Coco Beach, West Palm Beach, Miami, and the final city is Homestead."

Ethan and Peter surrounded Parson, Matt, and Phil and they all discussed the girl and the departure times of the bus, getting a legal copy of the video tape for the murderess case.

Stu shoved both Austin and Frank from the group and outside into an empty hallway as he scanned the walls for wandering customers or staff employees, whispering to the nose bridge of Austin. "She's gone back to Miami, while she plays a fucking mind game with us."

"I do believe that Stu is colorfully illustrating that she's pissing us off." Frank nodded to Austin.

Austin nodded. "That, too."

"The laboratory reports..." Tom handed the glossy package to Frank.

Stu slapped on Tom on the collar bone, saying with a nod and a grin. "Good man. Ya obeyed Austin orders."

"I listen." Tom rolled his eyes and turned to see Frank.

Frank ripped off the tab, pulling out the papers.

"Excellent work with both lab reports and bus station discovery, Tom." Austin nodded to Tom.

"Didn't do much." Tom shrugged, looking down to the tile floor.

Austin grinned. "You found another important clue on Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, Tom. She knows her town. She was here. We are here. She must be getting nervous that we're so close to her discovery."

Stu exhaled with a huff of nervousness, shaking his baldness, looking to each brother. "I'm more nervous. She followed us here. We are completely unaware, Austin," he turned to scan the hallway, seeing the other party move and left the audio visual room, walking back into the lobby.

Frank read the lab reports. "That doesn't matter, Stu. We'll find her, next. She'll slip up revealing herself. I agree with Austin. She's getting very concerned. She will be caught very soon."

"Not yellow." Tom parked his hands on his hips, saying with a nod and a grin.

"You didn't?" Austin parted his lips, looking to Tom.

"No. I didn't." Tom slapped his chest, smiling. "I used deductive reasoning, based on all the eye witness testimonies, so far."

"Ya did?" Stu said with a confused brow.

Frank rattled the papers, saying with a nod and a grin to each brother. "I can explain Tom's mastery of his Tele power of telepathy. Mr. Moore's autopsy is normal. He died of a heart attack from old age. Miss Dokey died of breast cancer, untreated. She was in her fifties. The four Indians died of various diseases, including respiratory failure, two heart attacks, and cancer of the pancreas, also, in their fifties, as well. Mr. Hartmann died of a brain stroke. These are normal causes of death which are not at all related to the yellow crystallized livers found inside the guts of the Miami murder victims or one single body of the Boyer Nursing Home with the same twinkling starry pretty organ." Austin nodded. Tom grinned. Stu slapped Tom on the collar bone for being a very good pup.

The Quartet moved and shuffled from the hallway, to the lobby, and in the hot and heated outdoors, where the police car, the black limo, and the tan sedan all were parked illegally inside the red painted lines of the fire lane which was in front of the bus terminal building. They formed an outer circle around the huddle of Peter and the others, hearing the on-going conversation.

10:31 a.m.

Bus terminal sidewalk setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Peter stood in the middle of the sidewalk away from the entrance doors of the Cantonment Bus Terminal station within the huddle of the group, raising both his hands and his voice. "Her vile spying action against us which has been provided by the bus terminal public video surveillance camera here to me proves beyond any doubt her guilt in the 8,063 murders in South Florida plus the 1,492 murders at the Boyer Nursing Home. And this has proven the supporting testimony of Mrs. Oldford. Katt did work for Henry Hartmann and indeed killed Mrs. Hartmann's husband."

"Katt fucked him to death." Tom stood between Austin and Frank and slightly behind Peter and Ethan, saying with a nod and a laugh from the funny nasty sexy story by Mrs. Hartmann.

"Poor taste, Tom," Frank turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Tom.

"She said it. I just repeated it." Tom chuckled.

Ethan exhaled with a huff of frustration, standing between Peter and Phil in the first circle. "The Boyer dead bodies are not related to the Miami murder victims, so I wonder who killed them."

"Katt." Peter said.

"Katt." Phil said.

"Katt," Stu said.

"Is there an echo coming from outer space down to here?" Tom looked up to see the blue sky, saying with a chuckle and a smile.

Austin wrapped an arm around Sawyer, whispering his secret words: shut the fuck up. Austin was the babysitter of the day. Berrington was responsible for keeping Sawyer out of trouble, until the Quartet returned back home to Coral Beach.

Phil turned with a sour frown to see the hair roots on Austin and Tom, watching the brothers whisper in secret, clearing his throat. "We still are in need of any type of legal hard evidence in the format proof of intent, a weapon, and a motive. I suggest we keep searching and visit Miss Kattrell's former residential home property which belongs to Mrs. Hartmann for a set of new clues," he turned to see the other faces in the huddle.

Tom wiggled away from Austin, saying with a sour frown and a matching tone. "I vote to go back home to Coral Beach," then he shuffled into the cooler shade of the big overhang underneath the bus terminal building, since he was developing a slight candy pink tinted sunburn on his pale ghostly face from the heated Florida sunlight.

Ethan looked to each face with a nod and a frown. "We will need a written hand note for permission from Mrs. Hartmann to enter her private property. Or we can subpoena a warrant from the nearest federal judge in Pensacola which will require our travel extension vacation stay for another week or two."

Frank said with a wicked grin and a nod. "Or he can sweet talk her into anything, we desire."

"Who?" Phil turned with a sour frown to see Mangrove.

Tom pointed to him underneath the cool shaded veranda, laughing. "Moron."

"Who?" Phil viewed and frowned to Sawyer.

"Mowran." Frank stepped up and tapped Peter on the collar bone with a smile and a nod.

"Me!" Peter parted his lips, turning with a sour frown to see Frank.

Frank nodded. "She likes you, Dr. Mowran. You can provide Mrs. Hartmann with more meds for pain. Medical necessary, doctor, you can hand her four more prescriptions..."

"No." Peter back stepped and waved both his hands and his skull, saying with a sour frown and a matching tone. "I am not returning back there to talk with loony tunes Mrs. Hartmann."

Austin stepped in front of Peter, saying with a sneer. "You are part of the state of Florida governor's office special appointed investigative team..."

"No." Peter back stepped from the two brothers, saying with a grin and a nod. "I am a freelance medical consultant for the state of Florida."

Austin smirked. "I will be certain to inform the governor of your adjusted medical role within this state-funded federal murderess case," he turned with a nod to see Mangrove. "Frank, please take my verbal comment..."

"Wait..." Peter stumbled between Austin and Frank with a sour frown. "I will do it later..."

"Now..." Austin turned with a sneer to see Peter. "Leave immediately, Peter. Spent some brief cozy time with Mrs. Hartmann and then provide her the needed medications." Peter exhaled with a huff of annoyance, crossing his arms and not moving, staring at Austin. Austin sneered. "Now, Mowran..."

Peter back stepped from the bossy billionaire, turning to see Matt, who held the police door open for him, exhaling with a huff of frustration, looking with a sour frown to see Austin. "Who made you, the boss, here, Berrington?"

"God." Austin said, moving around Peter to his limousine.

10:43 a.m.

City of Boyer (four miles south from city hall)

Rental house of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell

Living room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The limousine, the sedan, and the police car parked on a nicely paved roadway as the bodies moved to an ugly gravel driveway.

"Empty. No one home. Let us go back home to Coral Beach, boys." Tom shouted, viewing the demolition site.

The Hartmann rental house property displayed tons of chipped paint flakes with several rotten wooden panels which was dripping off the roof eves and an ugly garden set of green and brown weeds that came to your kneecaps. A few broken front porch wooden staves protruded from the ground for your shoes too.

The scurrying squirrels and flying birds represented the only warmth that surrounded the old house.

"No, Tom." Austin shoved him forward to the front porch steps.

Tom held both his arms parallel to the stomping weeds, shouting. "Danger. Danger. Tom Sawyer get back into the limo," as a slap sounded against his rear skull. "Ouch," he dropped his arms and swung with a sneer to Gage.

"Behave, Tom." Austin leaned into Tom.

Ethan stepped through the tall weeds, leading Kim, Phil, Peter, Austin, Tom, Stu, and Frank, commanding. "I'll lead us to the front door, marking a safe foot path, so just watch your steps carefully for..."

"Rats!" Kim pedaled backward from the rodents.

"Snake!" Phil gently rapped on its nose with his shoe toe as it slithered away underneath the rotten front porch staves.

"I guess company is home," Tom smiled as a slap sounded against his rear skull for a second time. Sawyer swung around with a sour frown to see Stu. "Ouch. That hurt, man..."

"Supposed, too."' Stu leaned to Tom.

Austin twirled Sawyer around to the front door.

Tom rubbed his skull, saying with a frown. "Ya always use that stupid ass line. How about I'm fucking sorry my gawd damn hand slipped there, buddy?" Tom saw Phil disappear into the house as a third slap sounded against his rear skull. He shouted. "Shit, Stu!" Tom spun around to Stu, lifting and rotating his two fists in the air.

"Sorry, asshole. Combing my hair with my hand." Stu laughed, rubbing his bald skull as Frank chuckled.

Austin grinned, shoving Tom to the front porch as the babysitter for the day and he whispered to Tom. "Behave, Tom."

Tom moved ahead and thumbed behind his collar bone to Gage as Stu and Frank laughed.

Frank shoved Austin to the front door too, saying with a grin. "Get inside, Austin."

The interior living room was devoid of any sitting furniture as thousands of dusty bunnies flew around from white sand and black dirt of soil. There were no curtains over the dirty glass windows and there were no appliances in the kitchen. There was a set of walking stairs on the wall which led to the upper bedrooms. A pair of dirty sliding glass doors heated the center of the room from the Florida sunshine.

The house held no family pictures but only chipped palm-sized peeling paint, except in southeastern corner of the room.

There were a series of highlighted etches covering the dull white walls in an array of oil painted artist colors, consisting of dark green, red, black, blue, gold, and silver that Tom had found.

Sawyer bounced on his toes, pointing to the wall, saying with a grin and a giggle. "Hey. Katt performed actually human sacrifices. See, right here, over here. Come over here, ya'll."

"Behave, Tom." Austin shouted to Tom and regretted that he had releasing Sawyer into the room unsupervised. Tom back stepped from wall, cupping his hand in front of his trousers, staring at the art work with a snigger and a smile.

Kim replaced Tom at the wall, touching and smiling at the drawings. "Strange. Odd. Lovely child art, I would determine, since all the drawings are not too precise and too advanced for a set of small digits. This appears to be an adult feline, a black cat with blue eyes. Very beautiful..."

Peter stood in front of the wall and shook his skull, pointing to each art piece. "Very sick. Creepy almost. Katt is a very mentally sick unstable and disturbed little girl. She needs to be immediately institutionalized, permanently," chuckling.

"I understand from the numerous verbal direct and indirect side comments of communications among the team members, that there seems to be no other physical hard evidence or any positive connection to the Miami victims available in this small rental house of Kattleen Kattrell. Therefore, we will return to Miami, immediately." Ethan stood behind the team and inspected the wall drawings also.

Frank stood in front of the wall and withdrew the wrinkled folded paper from his jacket, turning with a frown to see Austin.

Austin turned with a frown to see the wrinkled piece of paper, exhaling with a huff of annoyance, ordering. "The priestly psychic prediction signs. Read it, Frank."

"Hand it to Tom. He's the sci-fi nut." Stu stood next to Austin and stared at the weird-ass art with confusion.

"Gimme," Tom stepped between Frank and Austin and snatched the paper from Frank's hand, quickly absorbing the words and looked up to see the wall then the paper, then the wall, and finally pointed to each symbol, naming for the team members. "Rice field. Banana stock. Yellow liver. Youth. Red Mars. Thor. Summertime. South."

Frank parted his lips, shaking his skull, studying the named symbols on the wall. "No."

"Not true." Austin narrowed his eyelids at each symbol on the mini-mural wall also.

Tom reread the words on the paper. "Frank's paper."

Frank presented an open palm to Tom. "Allow me." Tom placed the paper on the palm of Frank as Mangrove lifted the paper to his face, reading the symbols on the wall and the words on the page.

"Frank?" Stu scooted into Frank's space.

"Wait?" Frank studied the symbols and then the words.

"Frank?" Stu looked at the wall.

"I agree." Frank turned with a nod and a stern face to see Austin.

"You agree too?" Austin turned with a sour frown to see Frank.

Frank said with a nod and a stern face. "The symbols match exactly the words on the paper from the priest."

Austin studied the wall. "Damn it to hell."

"Holy hell." Stu stared at the wall.

"That symbol over there isn't named. But it appears to possess a set of white wings, a set of white robes, a bright white halo, holding some kind of book." Kim squatted on the floor, touching the pretty child drawing.

"That's a tablet of names for collecting the dead souls, because it is the angel of death." Ethan said with a confused brow, staring at the wall.

"She is one of God's angels, not the devil's." Austin whispered the exact wording from the dead priest's letter.

After snapping digital pictures on numerous cameras and on mobile telephones by the team, they back stepped from the wall. Then they pivoted and exited out into the hot Florida sunshine, stomping back through the knee-high weeds and hiding rodents.

They huddled near the vehicles.

Ethan exhaled with a huff of disappointment. "We're done here."

Tom clapped with excitement, missing his wife, saying with a nod and a smile. "Time to go back home to Coral Beach."

Phil turned with a stern face and a nod to see Ethan. "Ethan, we'll rendezvous, tomorrow morning at your office. We'll meet Trilling and post a great big fat bounty on her head, after we get the proper paperwork..."

"Paperwork?" Peter frowned to Phil.

"She's not charged formally, Peter." Phil looked at Peter.

"Not charged?" Peter frowned.

Phil nodded. "Katt is under suspicion and needs to be hauled in and questioned by the all authorities."

Peter frowned. "Hauled in, you do mean to substitute with hung up, strung up, or tied up by ropes around..."

"Ya'll don't have a weapon, a motive, or an intention." Matt turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Peter, standing between Stu and Austin.

Peter raised his finger. "She was pregnant with Mr. Hartmann's baby, then she killed Mr. Hartmann inside his nursing home. She escaped from Boyer like Mrs. Hartmann said. She gets her kicks in killing kids and old people. They can't fight back. She's sick and demented. By using the wife's testimony, Mrs. Hartmann is the key witness in this serial killing cold-blooded murder trial. And then if you include Mrs. Oldford's slightly alternated format of Katt's employment record..."

"No." Tom waved his bangs, his skull, and his hands, saying with a nasty tenor. "Mrs. Oldford? Nope. She's one day close to death. If I tried to fly her delicate fragile elderly biological life form to Miami, she might die. I don't want that on my heavenly conscious."

Matt frowned to Tom. "But you're accusing an innocent girl of murder, without a weapon, a motive, and an intention..."

"Whose side are you on, Matt?" Stu frowned to Matt.

Matt nodded his cowboy hat. "The side of the law, Stu."

Austin tapped on Matt on the collar bone, nodding. "Good side to be on, sheriff. We're all on the side of the law, order, and justice," he turned with a stern face to see Stu, Frank, and then Tom.

"Thanks for your prompt and proper legal assistance in this judicial matter, Sheriff Matt." Ethan extended his hand for departing Boyer, Florida, saying with a nod and a smile.

Matt shook every pre-offered hand with a cowboy hat nod too.

"Hey, Matt! If you're interested in coming to Miami for the murder trial of Kattleen Kattrell, I'll fly you in my jet, buddy." Tom slapped Matt on the collar bone, saying with a grin and a giggle to his new friend.

Matt nodded his cowboy hat, smiling. "Okey dokey. I wanna come. Escort ya'll boys to the airport, compliments for allowing me to help with this case."

Tom bounced and clapped with a giggle and a grin. "Hot damn. I'm riding with Matt. Let's go over hundred miles-per-hour or at least one hundred and twenty this time, Matt or maybe beyond..."

Matt grinned, scooting to the police car. "Ten-four, deputy." Tom pulled beside him, back slapping and reaching the individual car doors. They slid inside the police car.

The police car spun the rear tires, driving fast down the road to the airport.

Frank exhaled with a huff of happiness, seeing the speeding police car which carried a happy and silly baby brother, and said with a chuckle. "Sci-fi nut or loco cowboy?"

Stu chuckled, seeing the fast moving police car too. "Don't ask, bro? Don't tell, bro?"

"Roger will co." Frank shook his skull, watching the police car disappear.

"Let's go back home to Coral Beach." Austin said with a smile and a nod for Tom, turning and moving to the rented limo.

12:15 p.m. (Central Standard Time Zone)

PENSACOLA AIRPORT (northwest coast of Florida)

(683 miles northwest from Coral Beach)

Private jet airplane setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The mobile telephone rung. "Gage," he said into his device, sitting in his assigned seat inside the cabin of the jet, waiting for takeoff.

Pause.

"Repeat," Stu yelled.

"Repeat, what?" Tom stood from his assigned seat, sipping on his drink, spying on Stu.

"Breaking up. Use the landline." Stu disconnected the mobile telephone from the poor reception.

"Who is it, Stu?" Frank frowned and sat inside his window seat.

"Trilling." Stu moved to the rear of the plane near the satellite for a better link connection. The mobile telephone rung for a second time. "Gage..." he said into the devise.

Pause.

"Repeat." Stu yelled.

Pause.

"Repeat, what?" Tom shadowed Stu, spying and sipping on the water.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank said from across the cabin, ease dropping on Stu's one-sided conversation too.

"Car race," Stu frowned.

Pause.

"One person," Stu said.

Pause.

"Repeat, Trilling?" Stu yelled.

"Repeat, what?" Tom touched the arm of Stu, trying to hear.

Austin and Frank shifted from their assigned seats and encircled around Stu.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank softly said.

"Wanna know." Tom viewed Stu's mouth, trying to read his lips.

"We all wanna know." Frank watched Stu's nose profile, whispering to Tom.

"Katt?" Stu said into his telephone which was glued to his ear.

"What about Katt?" Frank frowned.

"We got her." Tom grinned to Austin.

"Trilling got her." Frank frowned.

"...in Miami," Stu said.

"Kathleen Scarlett Kattrell." Austin whispered and watched Stu talk on the mobile telephone.

"Repeat!" Stu yelled and covered his free ear with a palm, hearing the tiny words better.

"Repeat what, Stu?" Tom touched Stu's arm.

"Shut up, Tom!" Frank whispered, touching Stu's jacket sleeve.

Tom watched. Gage dropped down the mobile telephone to his leg, "Stu?"

Stu frowned. "She's dead."

1:03 p.m. (Eastern Standard Time Zone)

City of Hollywood in US State of Florida (eastern coast)

(650 miles southeast from Boyer)

Sports car ride of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell north Interstate 95

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Me!" Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell was also known by the nicknamed Katt, repeating her own Christian name, driving in a bucket seat of her speeding sports car in a northern direction on Florida interstate during a pretty summer day.

"Where is Boyer, Florida?" Katt exhaled with a puff, knowing the location of a small farm town in Boyer, Florida, her birth place from a different time of her past twenty-seven years of life.

That question had been uttered from the tongue tips of her co-workers, next door to her work cubby, as the words echoed throughout the IT department (Information Technology) of Charity Kendall Hospital, a community of Kendall in the great state of Florida.

Her clueless work idiots had surfed the internet for the answer to the repeated question, regarding the distinct farm town which was located in the northwestern isolated part of Florida, dubbed the Panhandle.

The Panhandle consisted of numerous small towns inside the Alabama boundary lines that overlapped the Florida state lines. Katt had lived there a long time ago in Boyer, keeping her secret.

Katt was twenty-seven years old celebrating a birthday in March like all the previous birthdays in Boyer, as a small child with no friends and one single family member plus a round birthday cake.

She raced at seventy miles-per-hour north on the interstate in ninety plus degree Fahrenheit heat inside an open convertible. The hot sun freckled her nose and tanned her bare shoulders in the sleeveless top, while the CD player blasts her favorite song out the car speakers.

Katt dreamed of a nice guy inside the passenger seat next to her, and as he laughed and flirted with her.

Not.

She traveled faster than eighty miles-per-hour, accelerating the racing pedal, and as the sports car did not hesitate or ping.

Her instincts were correct about the vehicle tail, recalling the standard police slang, seeing the gold color on the glittering car. The paint job reflected the Florida rays, making her eyeballs blink inside her sunglasses. She spotted the wavering gold color, traveling up her tail pipe in the rear view mirror.

The gold metallic raced within fifty feet of her car bumper.

Katt impatiently waited for the gold flash to whiz, instead the car slowed and decelerated its speed, as it fell directly behind her, tailing again.

Her inner voice pinged with worry with a dry throat, and a flip flopping tummy above her pounding heart plus two sweaty palms. And she sweated between her toes bones in her breezy sandals, feeling nervous, scared and tracked for some mysterious reason.

She accelerates to eighty-five miles-per-hour, sailing down the interstate, noting the gold car accelerated too and matched her speed as she was being tailed by the police or the FBI or the Charity Hospital. She did not plan to stop for an interview or an arrest. Katt had not done anything wrong but quit her lousy job with every other employee at Charity Kendall Hospital, moving out of the metro city Miami.

Katt was leaving and traveling to her new home in Ruby Beach on west coast of Florida.

She noted the creation of a second golden sports car as the second gold car gained speed even with its twin, too.

Katt shouted. "Slow down."

Bad idea.

The gold car would ram her vehicle, causing Katt to stop. And she saw two skulls that were bobbing behind a clear windshield with her perfect vision.

She yelled. "Speed up!"

Good idea.

Katt accelerated, coaxing more torque from the engine as it purred at ninety miles-per-hour. The steering wheel was steady between her sweaty finger pads. The rubber tires were stable and fluid like riding on glass on the interstate. She could travel up to 150 miles-per-hour not enough hiccupping with the precise engineering via the car owner's manual.

She envied the Europeans, who traveled the famed autobahn in exceed of 100 miles-per-hour every day of the week, going to work or driving for play as she had dubbed Interstate 95 in Miami, the Florida autobahn today.

The twin gold cars matched her excessive illegal speed.

Katt screamed, "Get off!"

Excellent idea.

She watches the mile markers, recognizing the area near the mile marker 157 of Hollywood, Florida and knew the side roads of Hollywood, using this mile marker as her turnaround point.

She had moved her few valuable possessions from her old Miami apartment to her new little beach house in Ruby Beach in secret at night without being seen or followed by man or beast.

The gold train had literally split into two golden cars on each side of roadway lanes, pacing and flanking her into stopping.

Katt zooms to ninety-five miles-per-hour, trying to alert a mad police officer to stop and ask her questions and write an expensive speeding ticket or maybe surrender to him for reckless driving, illegal speeding, and an officer harassment charge.

The exit ramp was one mile.

Katt planned to jump off at that exit point from the middle of three lane of I-95.

Cool move.

She down shifted the floor stick expertly to the fourth gear, accelerating to 100 miles-per-hour and cut off the jerk driver of the gold car in the left lane, gliding smoothly between the yellow strips of road in sand. Then she slid her car back in front of gold car, punching the stick into fifth gear, not saving gasoline.

The gold car slammed the brakes, falling behind Katt.

She had no car accidents or speeding tickets, displaying perfectly the 'safe driver' tab on her current state of Florida driver's license.

Katt passed the half mile green sign for the Hollywood exit friendly with these tiny streets and back roads of the town, hunting for the bus terminal building as part of her master escape plan, leaving and escaping from metro city Miami. She planned to cruise down Maple Street and intersect at Elm Street and turn right, driving and stopping at the Hollywood Police Station parking lot for one hour.

If the gold twin cars followed, Katt would walk in the police station and report them. Police officers believed girls, especially females who cried wet tears.

She viewed mile marker157 and down shifted to fourth gear, slapping the pedal.

The gold twins matched her speed, maybe, anticipating her flee and her escape too.

Katt yelled. "Ready. Set. Go."

Her car jumped to 105 miles-per-hour, jerking the wheel to the right, squealing the tires to the right, and cutting off first gold car in the middle lane.

The driver of the gold car slammed the brakes, smoking white smoke from the rear tires, jerking the car to the far right straight to the sandy medium of the interstate's roadside ditch and the driver of the gold car avoided her rear bumper of Katt.

Katt exhaled her held breathe of oxygen.

The driver of the second gold car flew by Katt and slowed his speed, waiting for her to pass him for a second time.

Katt occupied an empty middle lane, gliding to the right lane, sliding between the yellow lines of lane and sandy medium, and tossed partials of sand, pebbles, and paper food trash in the windshield of gold car.

And then she accelerated.

The driver of the second gold car saw her beautiful car trick and copied her driving maneuver, flattering Katt.

Imitation was a perfect compliment.

Katt anticipated the upcoming ninety-degree right angle, bending around the roadway which was built with man-made tons of concrete. The solid embankment concrete was part of interstate bridge underpass.

If you did not know that tidbit of useless data, you would swiftly die.

Katt pulled some math number of planet Earth gravity as her car rounded the right hand curve. She leaned deeply to the left door handle, avoiding the embankment obstacle.

The second gold car tailed her rear bumper in the right lane of the exit ramp.

However, Katt needed the left lane.

She whipped sideways to the left, missing the fender of the gold car but losing control of her car, screaming. "God protect me." She soared in the air to the embankment of hard concrete as the indestructible wall filled her window shield and her eyeballs.

Then Almighty God jerked the car slightly to the left.

The right fender of Katt's car slightly tapped on the fossilized concrete at the tip of the bumper with a loud crunch.

Her car flipped up and over and over in the air as her functioning safety belt plastered Katt by her chest and her collar bone into the bucket leather seat.

The car spun out of control in the air waves.

Katt could not breathe, seeing the sky was down and the grass was up, experiencing a day dream in her slow motion nightmare. Her car moved slow and slower and slowest with very tiny little bits of motion in her eyeballs.

Katt could not scream, trapped and pressed in the driver's seat for a second flip rotation.

Then the car landed sideways on two tires at the driver's side with a loud crash, falling down to the soil on its underside carriage, sitting up like a normal vehicle in the tall yellow and green weeds.

"Breathe," Katt exhaled with stunned shock. "Smoke." She smelled the gasoline fumes, viewing the rear mirror.

White stream. Black smoke. Red fire.

She tapped on the seat belt, unlocked the buckle, and jerked the door handle.

No movement.

She jerked twice on the door handle and punched the door with her sore shoulder, simultaneously.

The metal mechanisms of the sports car were damaged.

Katt wiggled between the steering wheel and the head rest, kneecapping in her driver's seat as she was short in height.

Her nostrils smelled the gasoline odors intensify.

She carefully stood and cautiously twisted her body sideways, facing the rear of the car, being right handed with the dominated limb, and kicked off her shoes and over the door and grabbed the door with a right hand, balancing her body.

She lifted her right leg over the rolled down window, barely touching the tall pointy weeds with a right bare foot, planting her foot on the ground, feeling the weeds cut into her toes, ankles, and lower shins from the wickedly pointed tropical leaves.

She lifted her left leg over and up, tossing her entire body over the open window as Katt fell on her right side and jumped to a standing pose, viewing the puffs of red fire and black smoke in far distance.

Both the gold colored twin cars had plowed into the curved embankment from speeding and chasing after Katt.

Katt heard the ringing sirens, bells, whistles, and piercing noises of police, fire, rescue, ambulances, and helicopters, coming for rescue and help. "Bye ya'll." She ducked low in the prickly tall weeds, covering her face with both her arms and hands from the attacking foliage, hearing the funny sounds of a pop, a ping, a ting, and a tong.

She ran on three-inched heels from her car as a bang occurred behind her fanny.

Red fire, white steam, black smoke, gas odor, and a combination of chemical coolant molecules spurted, ignited, and finally bombarded the air waves.

Katt dropped to the rough wild growth of Florida trees, bushes, and plants, panting with both panic and fear. "Safe," she exhaled and stands, viewing the parking lot ahead of a familiar convenience store for gas and food which was located at the cross section of US Highway One.

Then she looked behind her shoulder.

A red fireball of burning cars and numerous approaching EMS vehicles. There were small figures of enforcement officer, cars, and dogs that had surrounded the crash site with a rotating helicopter in the sky.

Some of the nosy interstate drivers had reported the car chase.

1:33 p.m.

City of Hollywood (20 miles north of Miami)

Gas and Food store setting

Katt moved from the brushes, wiping off the particles of sand, dirt, and grass from her clothes and hair, strolling calmly out of the patch of wildwoods to the rough paved gray parking lot of the gas and food store at the intersection of Marlin Road and Winston Street in Hollywood, Florida.

The nosy people huddled on the sidewalk, gasping and gossiping about the mysterious red and white fireball.

Katt moved to the store and opened the door, casually strolling in the cool room, gliding passed the candy aisle, potato chip aisle, and the cold beverage refrigerators to the WOMEN'S BATHROOM, unoccupied. She whispered. "Empty."

She moved inside and secured the door in the single bathroom room, turning to the mirror, washing her dirty face, arms, legs, and hands with soap and warm water, leaning to the ceramic sink. Both hands and arms shook from the tragic ordeal.

She was alive. They were not.

She was out of here. They were there buried.

Her new place was ready for immediate occupancy.

Quite unfortunate, the cars had found her, before she had exited out of Miami using her money and backup plan. Katt isn't a stupid country hillbilly.

Katt lifted her shirt, pulling out the bigger bra which was designed for girl with 36BB big breasts, and viewed the stacks of folded US dollar bills which lined the inside bra cups, padding her small size AA breasts. "All there."

She pulls out one hundred twenty dollars from the padded bra and placed on the edge of sink, exhaling and examining her body.

A few skin scratches and dried blood clotted on her legs with grass stains on her walking shorts.

Florida had lots of tropical plants, ya'll.

The rest of her outfit was free of dirt.

Her long hair was messy not abnormal as she never carried a hair brush in her handbag or work briefcase. Katt smoothed the fuzzy strands with both hands and washed her hands, again. She pressed the wrinkles down over her clothes and hung her shoulder purse neatly around her neck as it rested on her leg.

She placed the money in the purse.

Katt emerged from the bathroom, feeling slightly more refreshed and less tense and strolled to the cold beverages, selecting a soda beverage, moving to the store counter. She placed the soda and a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, smiling to the store clerk and could not break the one-hundred-dollar bill without the hint of suspension from the store clerk.

The store clerk might not remember her pretty face but would recall the one-hundred-dollar bill for the $1.91 beverage.

Katt accepted her money change, moving and leaving the store.

She viewed the street, the meadow field, the two buildings, and the flying helicopters with some additional police cars and EMS vehicles as the sidelined automobiles and people gossiped and gasped at the tragic wreck.

Her escape route had worked leaving Miami permanently for her new secret hiding place in Ruby Beach on the west coast of Florida.

Four nights ago

City of Hollywood

Sports car ride of Katt north Interstate 95

Katt exited off mile marker 157.

Then she waited and watched for any tailing vehicles that might have slowed their speed or turned into the adjacent store parking lot to spy as she filled the tank with gas, paying with cash.

No monetary spending tracked to her bank account.

She drove south on Interstate 95, heading back to Miami, using the Golden Glades Express Exchange. At the Golden Glades Express Exchange, Katt veered to Tampa, Florida carefully watching for any vehicles that were following or surrounding her car during her secret nightly journeys.

No trace. No tails. No tales.

Present day and place

City of Hollywood

1:43 p.m.

Gas and Food Store

Telephone booth

She moved and lifted the public telephone receiver, dropping two quarters in the slot and waited with nervousness for the connection, saying. "Hello. Could you send a taxi cab to the gas and food store located at the intersection of Marlin and Winston?"

Pause.

"How long?"

Pause.

"Ten minutes. Thank you." Katt hung up the receiver, waiting for rescue. She leaned against the phone booth, drinking the soda, surveying a slow moving taxi, turning to the parking lot as she shuffled from the telephone booth, waving her arm. The taxi stopped. She slid in the rear seat, leaning over the front row. "Take me to the bus terminal, please!"

"Bus?" The taxi cab driver turned with a sour frown to see Katt.

"Yes, the bus terminal is located at Johnson Street near the Hollywood Police Station."

He shook a skull. "Fare is lots of money. Fifteen miles is fifty-five dollars."

She lifted up the one-hundred-dollar bill near her smile. "This is all for you when I arrive at the bus terminal, sir."

"Is that real money, honey?" He frowned at the money. Katt handed the bill to him. The taxi driver struck the bill with the marker, seeing no change of real money, nodding. "Okay! Uh! Do you have a piece of luggage?"

"No."

"Okay." He turned to face the windshield and shifted the gear, driving away from parking lot.

Katt leaned back into the seat with a pounding heart and two sweaty palms. Her throat was wet from the consumed soda coupled with a settled tummy and a quiet mind as she closed her eyelashes. The past events from the last hour was replaying in her mind the mysterious break-in at her apartment, the mysterious murders at her hospital, and the mysterious car chase of her vehicle. The odd discovery of dead bodies at her employment was being called, the murders. The odd exploration of her home town of Boyer was being called, the murderer. And her odd paranoid in her mind was being called, the madness. The rumors at the hospital had scared her into running far away from Miami as a mystery killer was employed somewhere in Charity Kendall Hospital. The killer was murdering trapped and sick patients in their individual hospital beds, especially the innocent neonatology newborn babies and the elderly patients on the hospice unit. Since, Katt used to visit those particular sick patients at night as a hospital volunteer who wear the funny colored pink and white uniform as ordered by the volunteer services director.

She made a good decision to leave her hospital, her job, and her apartment, not having any friends or family members but only the new and old patients of the Charity Kendall Hospital wards on Sunday evenings. She would miss them, the most.

Katt would not miss her coworkers. Her coworkers were rude, loud-mouthed, bold, obnoxious, brass, gossipy, backstabbing, bitter, unfriendly, and mean to each other. Katt couldn't believe that these people attended church on Sunday and acted this way on Monday morning. She was used to that irrational and crude behavior, encountering the same personality types, living in a different place and time as a child of Boyer, Florida.

Then, she moved out of Boyer to live in Miami, feeling both scared and afraid at her first paying job as a computer clerk.

Now, Katt was not that frightened scared little girl but a mature adult, who made decisions about apartments, furniture, and survival arrangements. Even her college-educated greedy materialist coworkers were scare, nervous, and uncertain like her.

Her coworkers were quitting and moving out of Miami from the unknown serial killer who was haunting the pink painted walls of Charity Kendall Hospital.

"We are here at the bus terminal, honey," the taxi cab driver yelled out loud and slowed, stopping the car.

Katt opened the eyelashes and stared with a smile at the sign: Hollywood Bus Terminal. She leaned over into the front seat and handed the hundred-dollar bill to the driver with a nod. "Thank you!" She exited the taxi to start her new life in Ruby Beach, Florida today.

2:12 p.m.

HOLLYWOOD BUS TERMINAL (three miles northwest from store)

Lobby setting

Katt entered the terminal and stopped, standing in front of the electronic monitor while searching the departure screen for her bus going to Naples, leaving at 2:30 p.m. The analog clock displayed 2:12 p.m. She turned and scanned the lobby observing the low passenger count, touching the paper bus ticket inside the purse as part of her brilliant backup plan to leave Miami permanently. She had purchased the bus ticket three days ago which was valid for two calendar weeks to travel a one-way trip adventure from Miami to Jacksonville to Tampa to Naples as she confused her foes.

Katt entered the Women's bathroom to check her body reflection and used the clean toilet. Then, she exited out into the lobby, purchasing a popular science fiction book from the gift shop, acting normal like a day traveler. She located an empty seat, parking a body onto the hard bench and exhaled, closing the eyelashes with a whisper for her eardrums only. "Good riddance, Miami, Charity, and murders!" She was enjoying her first vacation trip and had not ever taken a vacation day from her paying job at Charity Hospital with too much work, opportunity, and money.

A male voice said via the bus speaker. "Attention, passengers. Please exit at port number six to Naples, Florida with your final destination to Tampa, Florida."

Katt opened the eyelashes, viewing the shifting passengers into port number six. There was an elderly couple, a family of four, some teenage kids, a couple of college students, and a mother with two little girls. Her heart pounded with tender love, desiring a boyfriend, a marriage, and a child, but that childhood dream was not happening today. Katt stood upright from the bench and scanned with nervousness the lobby space. There was not a policeman or a security office or a guarded uniform in the area.

She still felt like a nomad moving from one apartment to another over the course of ten years while living around Miami, Florida. She would get a new address change, every year, packing up her few possessions or giving away her few pieces of furniture to the neighbors without the hassle or expense of packing the furniture items and purchased new stuff.

Same old routine. Same old city. Same old Katt.

Katt presented the ticket with a smile. The porter accepted the ticket with a nod. "Thank you. Do you have a piece of traveling luggage today, miss?"

She smiled, "Day trip." Katt had already moved all her few possessions of clothes, shoes, books, laptop, and bed linens to her new beach house, last night. She boarded the stuffy bus, sitting in the middle section at the window, laying the unread book in her lap and closed her eyelashes, calming her heart and her mind which was still filled with the murders, the hospital, the job, the apartment, the car, and the escape out of Miami.

Everyone was talking about the murders. Everyone was scared. Everyone was interviewing with other business companies as the Charity Hospital Administration was not doing enough to protect the employees from the murders or the murderer.

Three days ago

Charity Kendall Hospital

Information Technology Department setting

Katt fibbed to her work supervisor, handing in her job resignation letter, stating that she had accepted a new job in Jacksonville in the northern part Florida. The supervisor accepted her resignation letter and wrote down her completed worked hours for the payroll period, one hundred forty hours on a new sheet of paper. He signed the worked hours and handed back the paper, instructing her to visit the hospital auditorium, filling out the required hospital paperwork for her final paycheck. He smiled and thanked her for working at Charity Kendall Hospital and Charity Healthcare System of Miami, Florida.

Katt waited in a long line of people labeled with the letters H through K for forty minutes. The nice hospital accountant calculated her current pay at ten dollars per hour at one hundred forty hours for two weeks of productive time coupled with her accumulated unused vacation hours. Over her employment of ten years, she had accumulated 1,200 hours in vacation and 2,400 hours in sick leave plus cashing out her retirement hospital pension plan.

The accountant finished the math calculations, saying. "You're responsible for all the penalty fees to the IRS." Katt nodded in silence, agreeing to the legal law and then signed her name and social security number on all the paperwork. The accountant presented a paper check of $117,682.49.

She had worked at ten different Charity Hospitals, in ten different Florida locations, performing the same one job as a computer clerk. She had received both regular and overtime worked hours on the weekday plus weekends, since the computer work never stopped. There was always some type of problem with old program coding applications, new software applications or new computer projects.

On Monday through Friday, Katt had worked, starting at five a.m. without clocking on a time machine, recording any electronic hours. She ate breakfast, lunch, and supper at her desk as the day work ended at five p.m., a twelve-hour-day. She was paid eight regular hours of pay plus four hours of overtime.

On Saturday, Katt worked from eleven a.m. to nine p.m. for ten hours of overtime and on Sunday afternoon from one p.m. to eight p.m., after church services.

Katt liked her job and her work with the quiet atmosphere in the IT department plus the good money as she had grown up very poor but not improvised.

There was a difference.

Katt left with a paycheck, driving to the local bank. She did not possess a large expensive house, expensive designer clothes, shoes, perfumes, fabulous vacation resorts, boats, vehicles or other play electronic toys.

Katt had splurged on a new sports car, enjoying the convertible roof, immensely. The car accelerated fast as the wind chilled her faces and shoulders. Katt paid her vehicle within five months of the same year of the purchase date, since she didn't want any outstanding debt.

She didn't own any credit cards or credit card debt only her ATM debit card. She paid cash for every expense, including the apartment, electricity, water bill, clothes, groceries, and personal items without blowing her money on luxury items. Katt didn't own a computer, television, telephone, mobile telephone, radio, video player, CDs, DVDs or other electronic items. The cash management style of her money allowed ease of utilization without the hassle of writing checks, credit cards, deposits, and withdrawals.

The world and national media new bulletins were too depressing, sad, and unhappy as the news reporters talked about killings, murders, and other terrible awful events like passing around old cooking recipes.

Katt pretended the world was a happy and joyful place like heaven. She did see sometimes a Hollywood film or borrow rental books from local library or purchased used library books for fifty cents at local library bookstore. She enjoyed spending her free time with her personal hobby of writing and reading adventure novels.

Katt waited in the bank line for her turn, saying with a smile and a nod to the bank teller. "Cash, please."

The bank teller tapped on the computer, viewing the paper check. "Adding this check to the balance of your bank withdrawal, you have $318,269.41. And you want the entire amount in cash."

Katt nodded, smiling.

The bank teller exhaled. "I have to get a bank manager's approval." The female pressed a button.

The bank manager escorted Katt to another desk.

Katt signed the paperwork. The money would be packaged and ready on Monday, next week. She needed to cancel the lease on her rental apartment, one bedroom and one bath near the Charity Kendall Hospital with a single garage for her shiny new sports car. Her neighborhood was safe and free of crime, where kids play in the street, when she arrived to and from her home.

She possessed a certified computer certificate earned at the age of seventeen years old, along with her high school diploma from the State of Florida.

Mr. Moore, her former computer teacher, helped her acquire the proper computer training and the Miami job, from his good friend acquaintance. Katt worked as a computer clerk.

Charity Hospital paid for her airplane fare into Miami and the usage of a tiny apartment for six months, free of charge. Katt moved from Boyer to Miami, the next day. She lived on eighth floor of the old hospital wing, along with the new future young and studious medical doctors.

Six months later, Katt signed her first apartment lease, holding a twin mattress, a loveseat, a table, and two chairs, within walking distance of her new working job, the first year.

In the second year, Katt purchased a used car, accepting a new job at Charity Doral Hospital while living on her own and missing Dokey, her foster mother. Katt didn't possess a college education but read and learned from the local public library and the electronic materials on the internet.

Her IT computer applications generated daily hospital reports on her work desktop computer while running the IT application, fixing and correcting all the numeric errors inside the hospital's main frame computer system. During the computer active programs, Katt read the internet on her co-worker's computer.

Her coworker Rob left his office computer powered on, during the evenings. He wasn't supposed to do that but liked to ignore the hospital rules, especially, hurrying home to his family.

Ten years ago

City of Boyer (683 miles northwest from Coral Beach)

Childhood of Katt

Dokey was the only family member that took care of a teenage Katt, and she was also very sick with cancer and not able to work at the local cotton gin, explaining with her flowing tears.

So Katt had to work for money, paying their living expenses, making her scared, nervous, and frighten. She was going to work for Mr. Matthews Adams "Henry the Eighth" Hartmann, owner of Boyer Nursing Home.

Mr. Hartmann also owned the house and provided the food stuff for both Dokey and Katt on a daily basis plus paid the electricity invoice to heat in the winter time and air conditioning to cool in the summer time.

Katt was a young fifteen-year-old girl.

Two days ago

City of Kendall

Apartment of Kattleen setting

In Miami, the apartment manager was angry at Katt for breaking the annual rental lease, before the apartment expiration date.

Katt couldn't afford to be tracked back to her new secret hidden spot. If she continued the old apartment lease, Katt would have had to pay the rental fee three more months with her bank checks. Since, the bank checks could be tracked to her open and active bank account, displaying her new living address in Ruby Beach.

So Katt accepted the lost the rental deposit of five hundred dollars for an early withdrawal plus the additional damages to the rental apartment as her place was mysterious burglarized last week.

Katt had immediately noted that the fifteen-pound exercise free hand weight, usually leaning against the door wood, had been magically moved, during her night run into Ruby Beach.

Someone had entered her apartment and someone had left. There was no evidence of robbing or missing items.

There wasn't much left except for some food items in the refrigerator and her lonely baby blue outfit that hang in the bedroom closet.

The intruder entered through a jammed window pane, crushing the cheap plastic blinds and then exited through the same window without opening the front door.

Katt didn't report the break-in incident to the police, because she had quit her job, closed her bank account, broke her lease, and planned to move out of Miami the next day without arousing any police suspicion. She was collecting $317,000 in cash from her bank, too.

The apartment manager said with a frown. "You have paid the required $1,800 to terminate the lease. We will retain your rental deposit of five hundred dollars for an early withdrawal, too. The decoration fee is not refundable. And you did not sign a pet release form. I didn't see any evidence of an animal in your current residence. However, I have noted and documented items damaged inside your apartment, since the January first occupation. The damages total one hundred twenty-five dollars and no cents. Based on the state of Florida law for rental units, you are required to pay the damages of one-hundred twenty-five dollars and no cents, before you leave the apartment. If you want to dispute the charges, you can retain a lawyer for your defense. I'll notify the company attorney. You and the lawyer can settle the matter in a court of law. What is your choice, Miss Kattrell?"

"I'll pay the damages. I have cash." Katt counted out the money to him.

The apartment manager asked. "What's your forwarding address? I'm required to mail this letter to you, as well, Florida law."

Katt showed the same paper letter, coming from him, nodded. "I have the letter here. You don't need to mail another one to me. Thank you, sir."

The apartment manager soured. "Florida law, your new address?"

She nodded, saying. "PO Box 190546. Jacksonville. Florida. 33458-0546."

Katt didn't know if Post Office Box number 190546 existed in Jacksonville. In hindsight, she should have given an old address, from one of her nine previous apartments within Miami.

But she didn't think quickly, sometimes.

The apartment manager's question had surprised her. She was not dumb, slow, or retarded. Her brain cells just functioned, differently.

Fifteen years ago

City of Boyer

Childhood of Katt

Katt had learned to write and read by both audio and video tapes from Mrs. Oldford, the nice and kind librarian at the Boyer Library. Mrs. Oldford also helped Katt with her weekly academic homework, too.

Katt had learned to play a wooden flute, a twenty-five key piano, and an old snare drum, entertaining her person for empty hours as Dokey had performed all the house chores, the yard, and garden work, including the grocery shopping.

Dokey had been a kind, gentle, and patient person while acting like Katt's mother.

Present day and place

3:48 p.m.

City of Naples in US State of Florida (west coast)

NAPLES BUS TERMINAL (131 miles west from Coral Beach)

Lobby setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The bus jerked, stalled, squeaked, and finally stopped.

Katt opened her eyelashes, seeing the building of the Naples Bus Terminal, grinning and stood, exiting the bus, stepping into the cold air conditioned reception lobby.

She moved to the Woman's Bathroom entering a stall, closing the door, and lifted up the shirt, seeing the bra. She expanded the bra, seeing money, extracting a set of two one hundred dollar bills. Katt stuffed the money down inside her purse.

She exited the bathroom and moved ahead towards the wash sink, washing and drying both hands, straightened her skirt and examined her reflection in the mirror. She saw a tone of pale tinted skin with a subtle pink undertone without a set of freckles.

Ten years ago

City of Boyer

Childhood of Katt

Katt had possessed a dark golden brown complexion with a fresh set of freckles which dotted across her nose from playing outside in the bright Boyer sunshine. Her great grandfather had been an American Indian from North Carolina like her biological mom and dad. Her parents died a few days, after her birth. Then, she had been raised by Dokey, who was another non-relative American Indian in the same tribe.

Nine years ago

City of Coral Gables (six miles west of Coral Beach)

Young Youths of Coral Gables Center (YYCG)

Ballet setting

Katt had watched and listened with interest to her co-workers talk and introduce their biological children at work during her long working shift. She had noted the tender, caring, and bonding moments with the mother-child or father-child relationships. So nice!

Katt had loved kids too while teaching on Saturday morning ballet to the three-year-old girls at YYCG which was located on Lejeune Road in Coral Gables, a few miles from apartment in Kendall.

Mrs. Battleton, the director of the local YYCG had been a kind and nice person, who had allowed Katt to teach the girls rudimentary ballet movements in first, second, and third arm and leg positions.

Katt had not been a real ballerina, never practicing ballet as a child, but she had learned the ballet movement, watching numerous video clips on the internet at her work place. She had practiced along with her adult ballet class for both fun and exercise.

Katt had enjoyed twirling around using her arms, hands, legs, feet, shoulders, and skull while going around and around like a pretend ballerina, teaching the tiny three-year-old little girls.

Mrs. Battleton had lots of students not enough teachers for instructing the three-year-old ballerina class.

Body movements had been very simple in first position movement: arm on the bar, stretch on the toe bones, and plies down to the kneecaps. The second position: stretch up on the toe bones and plies down to the kneecaps.

Mrs. Battleton had assisted Katt with the correct arm and body techniques and helped Katt into quickly learning to become a novice ballet teacher.

By the third ballet class, Katt had been charged as an official ballet instructor, not accepting any money for payment as a ballet teacher, since Katt had earned a good living as a computer clerk at Charity Kendall Hospital. She had been a very thrifty and fugal person with her extra dollars for any emergency or an unexpected incident.

Katt had taught ballet for nine years and then had quit the position six days ago, feeling sad, missing her ballet class of cute, sweet, and adorable in their pink tutu and curly pigtails little girls.

Present day and place

City of Ruby Beach (three miles south from Naples)

4:01 p.m.

Bicycle ride of Katt south on Ruby Beach Boulevard

Katt left the bus lobby and crossed the street to the local bike shop, entering the store, moving to a tall rack of bicycles, and pointed to the yellow colored bicycle on the wall rack.

The bicycle clerk retrieved the bike from the wall and calculated the total purchase at the cash register. "One hundred and six dollars and thirteen cents is the total purchase amount. Do you want me to deliver the bike this afternoon to your home? I see, you wear only a pair of high heeled sandals."

"This is the basket's primary purpose." Katt collected the change, saying with a giggle. The bicycle clerk pushed the bike outside in the sunshine in front of the store. Katt tossed her sandals in the basket, straddling the seat and paddles, yelling. "Let go." The bicycle clerk released the bicycle.

Katt wobbled and paddled in the direction of her new residence of Ruby Beach, Florida.

She passed the residential suburbs on Ruby Beach Boulevard and headed south into the white sands and blue ocean water. The north side of Ruby Beach contained ninety-nine percent population within the tiny retirement town of Ruby Beach.

Ruby Beach had a city hall, a fire station, a police station, an electricity branch of West Florida Power Company, a water station, and three grocery stores. There were numerous retail stores, restaurants, a marina harbor, several fishing stores, clothing shops, and many entertainment centers on both sidewalks of Ruby Beach Boulevard.

Katt paddled and passed the fenced security gates of the guarded residential communities with the swimming pools, four garages, two tennis courts, one recreational center, a boat dock, and some larger million-dollar estate homes. A few of the million dollar estates contained a single two-seater helicopter on top of the roofs.

Katt was getting both hot and sweaty, working both her legs and arms with the constant motion in the warm weather and cool breeze on her face. She panted with heavy breaths. "Good!" She needed a good workout to relax and exercise, breathing fresh air in and out, being in great shape from her ballet workout each Saturday.

Katt reached the open road, slowing the bicycle down and coasting speed toward the bluish-green colored water, white colored foamy waves, white colored sugary coated sand, and yellow colored dunes occupy, as her eyeballs glanced to the right side of road, the Gulf of Mexico.

You could see for miles and miles the bluish-green colored water hanging underneath a baby blue sky on the horizon. The ocean water never ended, appearing to fall off the edge of the planet. But sea sailor Christopher Columbus proved that silly theory wrong.

The sea water shone like bluish-green marbles, as the sea sand glittered like diamonds.

Katt crossed the street into her new beach house on the edge of paradise.

Five days ago

City of Ruby Beach

Beach rental Mrs. Sandy Middleton

Living room setting

Katt had spent ten hours on the road, leaving at five am from Miami, driving two hours west into an early dawn rays of light to Naples, Florida. She had selected this city from the internet sites, desiring to escape from the big city life.

However, she found disappointment here with the rental property being too expensive.

She stopped, filling the car with gas, preparing for her long drive back home to Miami. She entered her vehicle and started the engine, traveling down a new street, following the signs to the area with no tall buildings, blinking traffic light, and more miles of white sand.

Katt passed the intersection slowing down, seeing a tiny house on right, and stopped her car. She circled around the roadway, passing the tiny house that was all alone on the edge of the sand and water of the Gulf of Mexico.

A beautiful picture of a placid, coastal, and quiet beach location as the sea breeze gently blew her ponytail high in the wind. The place was too perfect of a sight for escaping from Miami and relaxing from an intense former city life.

Then Katt saw the for sale sign.

She drove down a lonely crooked road to the two story structure. The house was painted in pale yellow with a single garage space on the side. She stopped, exiting her car, stared at the pretty little house.

The front door opened.

An elderly woman smiled and waved her arms, stepping to the driveway, yelling to Katt. "I'm Sandy Middleton. How do you like my little house?"

Katt smiled and waved back, admiring the beach house and the ocean water, being a proper southern lady as she had taught by Mrs. Oldford. She advanced to Mrs. Middleton, shaking her hand.

Mrs. Middleton guided Katt to the house.

The Florida room held a kitchen on the left. The right wall led to the garage door and the stairwell went up to the second floor. The Florida room contained a tall table with four chairs, behind the stairwell on the west wall. The east wall held an enclosed laundry room, containing a washer and dryer. The living space was large enough for a loveseat and a long sofa. In the center of the room, there were two sets of glass doors, displaying the bluish-green Gulf of Mexico.

Katt smiled at the cute house not wanting to waste her time as the evening was getting late, and she had to drive four hours back home to Miami.

Middleton said with a smile. "I'm eager to sale, maybe, sale it today."

Katt shook her curls, saying with a smile. "No thank you."

Middleton nodded. "Not buying, today? How about renting for some months or maybe, one year's lease?"

Katt shook her curls, smiling. "No thank you."

Middleton nodded. "I can make you a deal, child. One year, eight hundred dollars per month. That's $9,600 for the year, plus I'm pay for all the utilities like the electricity, water, sewer, and lawn service plus palmetto bug pest control. How's that sound?"

Katt smiled with a nod. "Thank you for the offer, ma'am." The rental apartment prices were lower in Miami. But she was rushed from escaping Miami and searching for a nice and safe neighbor within the inner city guts of Ruby Beach.

Middleton frowned. "No pets, children, or boyfriends?"

She shook her curls. "No."

Middleton smiled, saying. "Good. No cable set or telephone access."

Katt nodded, "Understood."

Middleton said. "Good. This is my house, owned it for the past sixty years. I'm leaving for Tampa to live with my twin sister. She has cancer and requires my help. I wanted to sale the property. But I find that the out of way spot is really out of the way for some people around here. The incoming families want big houses with yards next to the schools. I can understand. If I had young children which I didn't, anyways, it sounds to me like we can agree on an arrangement."

Katt nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Middleton shifted to the table, tapping on the paper. There was an ink pen and a calculator on the table surface. She smiled, nodding. "I carry a calculator with me for such occasions, planning to sell this place today or tomorrow, but renting it as good. Sit, child."

Katt sat in the chair, watching Middleton.

Middleton tapped on the paper, smiling. "I'm prepared like a nature girl, since we're girls. The yearly rent total comes to $9,600 and no cents including utilities of power and water. You can send me a monthly check..."

Katt pulled the cash from her purse and silently counted out in hundred dollar bills the exact amount of the total.

Middleton chuckled with amusement, smirking. "Cash. Yes, I accept."

Katt handed the money to Middleton.

Middleton recounted, making certain of the correct total, saying with a nod and a smile. "Always prepared, I have a very simple legal document that we both can fill in the blanks with your name as the Renter. My name as the Rentee for one year." She handed the legal document and a blue ink pen to Katt.

Katt read in silence.

Middleton narrowed her eyelashes, jabbing a finger to Katt. "I have good instincts about people. You seem to be a nice girl. You sign here. I sign there on both the original pieces of paper." Middleton watched Katt sign and date her name in blue ink, permanently. She waved at the paper, saying. "Ignore the reference section on the form. I'll fill in my sister's name. She'll cover for you, child. My lawyer's going to have a fit with my impromptu decision. I think that I will keep this a secret between us, two. As always, he'd want his greedy money commission, if I tell." Katt slid the paper to Middleton as the elderly woman grabbed and signed too, double checking the drying blue colored signatures. "The water bill is on the kitchen counter with electricity bill. I'll pay them on Monday."

Katt nodded and placed the new legal rental agreement in her purse.

Middleton looked up with a smile and a nod to Katt. "This transaction went very smoothly. You're an honest and nice girl. What else can I tell you? I don't have neighbors or friends, here. The place's very safe and quiet, here. If you have problems with any working appliance, I have a telephone number for the repair man." Katt nodded. Middleton stood, moving to the kitchen.

Katt stood from the chair, following behind Middleton.

Middleton patted the oven, saying with a smile and a nod. "The appliances are brand new. So I don't expect a problem. I have a yardman, who comes once every two weeks to pull the weeds. If you don't, the things grow tall like trees and attract bugs. Let's see. New appliances in working order in the kitchen, including the stove, dishwasher, refrigerator, microwave, sink, and all. New washer and dryer. You can keep and use the tall four-person breakfast table. There's a half bath which leads to the side patio for washing off sand from the beach." She moved to the patio door, opening the shades as the heat bombarded the tiny room.

Katt followed behind listening and nodding.

Middleton pointed to the patio furniture outside on the concrete. "You're welcome to use the patio furniture. It's only a lounge chair and a small table. This is an external overhead outdoor body shower for removing the itchy sand. Watch out. It only sprays cold water, thou," she laughed.

Katt smiled with a nod, learning not to interrupt her elders and she really needed to leave Ruby Beach before dusk for the drive back to Miami for the church service at seven pm with the singing choir. Or the church people would get curious about Katt missing the weekly music practice.

Middleton closed and locked the door, turning with a nod and a smile to see Katt. "Move in with your possessions, tomorrow." She gave Katt the object. "Very good. Here's the front door key to my house. Enjoy the view and the beach. Here's my telephone number and my number for my lawyer, if you have an emergency and need anything. Don't expect to see me? Tampa's too far for me to drive. But I'll keep in touch by mail." Middleton turned and led to the front door, walking beside Katt.

Katt smiled with a nod. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Middleton. I promise that I will enjoy the house and the view. And don't worry about anything. I live alone with no pets or no boyfriends. Good bye. And have a nice trip. I hope your sister starts to feel better, ma'am." She moved out the house and to her car for the drive back to Miami.

Present day and place

City of Ruby Beach

4:28 p.m.

New beach rental of Katt setting

Hot temperatures, windy with bright sunshine

Katt parked her new bike in front of her new garage door, staring at her rental beach house, seeing the front door, the garage door, and the outer windows were closed and locked. She scooted around the rear of the beach house, noting the folded furniture against the wall, scanning the newly racked sand dunes and pulled out sea oats, which beautified the shoreline and preserved the sand system.

Katt unlocked the door and enters, looking around an empty room, noting that the kitchen was both neat and spotless. The appliances were powered down. The garage door was locked and floors were cleaned.

No sand. No foot prints. No dead bodies.

She giggled at her sick mental thought and strolled around the rest of the house, finding that the bathroom was both neat and spotless, seeing that the sliding door was closed with the shut cloth blinds.

Katt slid the blinds open bombarding the floors, walls, and ceiling with the hot Florida sunlight, admiring her loveseat and matching ottoman draped in the baby blue colored fabric.

Baby blue was her favorite color, matching her pupils.

Katt had found the piece of tacky furniture in the discount section of the store which was marked down by eighty percent from two hundred with a matching ottoman. The delivery fee was sixty-five dollars to her new rental beach house, since she did not own a vehicle anymore.

Katt rushed the upstairs, scanning an empty hallway with a stack of books against the wall.

The master bedroom held a queen sized mattress on top of the naked single set box springs without the metal bed frame, preventing the cheap bed from shaking her body and her stomach from the shoddy workmanship. Most importantly, the box spring hid $317,000 in cash money, since the money was hidden under the mattress, literally. Katt shoved the heavy mattress to the side, banging the wall, lifting with ease the lightweight box springs high in the air. She stared at a dirty sock which was tucked into the corner of the box springs like a piece of dirty laundry that had been foreverly forgotten. The height, depth, and position were all correct too. No one had found her money roll of $317,000. No one had moved the torn dirty smelly sock either. She was a genius. Katt dropped the box spring down from the air, shoving the bed mattress back into proper place for her nightly slumber, patting her messy bedcovers with a giggle.

Katt swung around and moved toward the built-in clothing drawers on the wall, changing into her torn and worn shirt and shirts, jogging downstairs of her new home.

There were no more midnight driving from Ruby Beach back into Miami for work, for church, for money, and for appearances. Since Katt was both unemployed and retired like a millionaire for one or two years.

Katt bounced down into the kitchen, hunting for food and finding one single plastic bottled of water. No canned food. No fruit. No boxed food. She was already absent minded at age of twenty-seven years old, before she was sharp, focused, and analytical at her work job at Charity Kendall Hospital.

Now, she felt relaxed, calm, and safe. She finished her shopping list on the paper notepad, consisting of food, beverages, paper goods, suntan lotion. She had not used a bottle of suntan lotion on her skin in ten years, so maybe she needed to purchase two bottles of aloe, in case, a sunburn.

Katt stepped outside the front door, mounting and pedaling her new bike toward the grocery store with her happy thoughts being an official beach bum. She planned to work and write her first novel mysterious medical novel. She, also, planned to utilize the local library resources, using the free internet and free reference books, researching her science facts.

But she also felt sad thoughts, living here for two years, alone which was her choice.

She would miss touching the NICU babies in the hospital, the elderly kind people on the hospice floor, the young sick children on the oncology floor, and the numerous cats and dogs at the animal shelter in Coral Gables, Florida.

Four hours earlier

1:06 p.m. (Eastern Standard Time Zone)

City of Hollywood (east coast of Florida)

Compact car ride of Nell Nan Hartmann north Interstate 95

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Her!" Nell Nan Hartmann yelled at the person inside the car ahead of her compact vehicle. The silver colored sports car raced and sped breaking the sound barrier on I-95. Nell had secretly followed behind Katt, after leaving Katt's apartment complex in Kendall, accelerating her compact car, as the racing streaks of two pairs of golden luxury sedans tailed the silver sports car. Nell was impressed with the driving skills of Katt, seeing the sports car dance into the middle lane and rode the wind into the left lane, not believing her baby blue eyes.

The sports car re-crossed all three lanes of traffic on I-95, sliding sideways into the medium strip, spitting pellets of sand and trash onto the two golden luxury sedans. Then, the sports car whipped off mile marker 157 into the small town of Hollywood, Florida.

Nell stopped along the media strip which was composed of more grass than smooth pavement street road while eye witnessing the two racing cars that had crashed head-on into a ninety-degree right angle concrete embankment turn which was coming from the exit ramp of Interstate 95. The other swift moving cars, trucks, and vehicles whipped to the left and then to the right, moving away from the dangerous flying debris, black smoke, and big mess. She pondered the identity of two dead fools inside the speeding cars, chasing after the sports car.

Nell maneuvered her car around the stalling cars and the standing people that gawked at the bloody accident scene, as the EMS vehicles rushed from behind her, whistling loud sirens and louder bells, forcing the cars off the interstate for the rescue. She puttered down the main street, passing the dead cars and the deader bodies, driving and parking on the green grass, rolling down the window. The smoke, fires, trash, cars, drivers, and Katt were roasted.

So, Katt was dead, finally.

Nell smiled and spotted a tea tiny figure in the far distance and as the tiny figure moved toward both the stores and streets. She gasped with a whisper. "Katt is alive." A second explosion of both smoke and flames performed a high plume of heated metal and flying debris into the air.

Nell slowly drove the compact car down the side street of Hollywood and turned off the street, parking inside the gas station, gasping with shock. Katt ran out of the weeds and entered the closest gas station.

Nell waited and watched, seeing a taxi cab at the air pump and vacuum cleaner, picking up Katt at the telephone booth. She followed the beaten up taxi, driving toward the Hollywood bus terminal, parking the car on the street, seeing Katt enter the bus terminal.

2:15 p.m.

HOLLYWOOD BUS TERMINAL (20 miles north from Miami)

Lobby setting

Nell rushed away from the car, crossing the street into the lobby, searching for Katt. Katt was seated on top of the bench with the eyelashes shut with an open book in the lap. Nell pondered her next move, thinking that Katt was planning to travel by bus to Naples, Florida, a west coast town which was based the current departure schedule of the bus portal. So, Nell needed a bus ticket, but did not have any extra money for both a gas and a bus ticket, looking around the semi-crowded terminal.

Nell strolled ahead towards the distraught mother with a smile and a nod, offering her nanny services, aiding the upset mother and her two annoying brats. She tricked the mother into paying for a second bus ticket as the bus porter called for all the Naples riders to board the bus. Nell reached out and grabbed, dragged each kid by an arm, moving ahead and followed behind the mother with a sour frown. The mother stopped beside the porter, providing all the paid tickets, holding her purse, the children's backpacks, and her tired exhaustion.

Inside the bus, the mother led and scooted into the aisle seat, exhaling and leaning her neck against the cloth head rest. Nell dumped both the crying kids into their assigned chairs beside their mother and moved toward the rear of the bus, sitting near the nasty bathroom compartment, without company, desiring both peace and quiet with closed eyelashes.

Her strong memories flooded back into her active mind, returning to the USA for one, maybe, and two purposes.
Thirteen years ago

Thursday March 3rd

City of Boyer

Fifteen years old Nell Nan Hartmann

Home of Mrs & Mrs Henry Hartmann

10:10 p.m.

Cold temperatures with bright starry night

Nell was fifteen years old, being a sports cheerleader, the president of Homemakers Club, and an honor student, singing in the church choir, babysitting the children during church preaching.

Overall, a good kid.

The bright moon beamed into her bedroom window as her parents Henry and Henrietta finished their fucking sex action inside their private bedroom.

Every night, her biological urges raced out of control from the pictures inside the sex books shown by her best girlfriend at Boyer High School. The sexy books were snatched from the mama of June from a hidden door inside the bedroom closet.

Nell enjoyed the pictures of large breasts, big penises, muscular chests, and big hairy balls. Her ma did not discuss the word, sex with her daughter. So Nell used her imagination and her fingers, touching and probing her own pussy.

So nice.

She thought of the nasty pictures of penises, seeing people fuck each other. Inside the book, women were fucking women. Men were fucking men. And she noticed that her vagina stretched open as juicy mucus trickled from her blonde hairs onto the cool bed linens. She touched, moaned, and probed deeper. So nice.

She turned fifteen years old, on January first, a very popular and promiscuous little girl teasing and flirting with the other high school boys. The boys liked her short pink colored skirts, her long blonde colored hair, and her pink colored high heels sandals, as her ma bitched, every morning, before the bus pick up for school.

Her pa always came to her rescue and shouting at his wife with a smile. "She looks cute."

The words echoed inside her mind over and over again: She looks cute.

Back then, he was getting a hard one and probably ejaculating inside his pants while looking, staring, and studying Nell.

Back then, Nell wore her short skirts barely covering her ass with her four inched cheap heels which were stripped over her naked feet and attached to her long tanned legs. The clothes came from a local clothing store and purchased by him, as she had giggled, flaunted, and pranced in front of him.

Her stomach turned flip flops, thinking of him seeing and spying on her. Nell always thought her pa watched over her for both protection and security, instead Henry Adams Hartmann, VI watched for his pleasure and lust. He waited for her to reach the golden age of fifteen years old.

But she was fifteen in the month of January, not the month of March.

On the third of March at night, Nell drifted off into her dreams while masturbating her pussy with her two fingers as the loud sound of her parents fucking in the next room turned her on. She imaged him on top of her, sliding his wet sticky dick in and out, in and out. The loud male grunts echoed against her bedroom wall.

Then his wife screamed from the bed mattress.

The screams made her pussy enlarge to a point of painful lust and pleasure while the grunting made her vagina juices flow thickly onto her warm bed sheet. Then the sound stopped next door, but Nell did not stop. She probed further inside her pussy with her single index finger deeper and deeper.

So nice.

Her bedroom opened.

The moonlight reflected off her bedroom floor as the door hit the wall.

Henry, the eighth stood inside the doorway in a backdrop of darkness, without the absence of light, sounding with a grunt.

Nell quickly covered her naked body with her bedcovers, as her pa smiled and advanced to her bed mattress, smelling like alcohol.

She smelled the strong booze from the doorway.

He was buzzed, not totally drunk, but thrilled and excited. He never got mad, only even. Henry was kind to his wife always kissing her lips, grabbing her ass, and fucking her inside their bedroom in privacy behind closed doors, but Nell heard the fucking sounds through her bedroom wall.

He moved to the edge of her mattress, smiling with a nod. "Well, kid, tonight's your induction."

Nell was quiet and quite confused.

He moved from the foot of her bed to the side of her mattress, as she saw his full body of buck nakedness of pale colored white. He did not enjoy the Florida sunshine, always avoiding the heat, light, and rays, but worked out for an old man around the age of thirty-four years or so. He was very fit and fine. His chest was muscular and curved not flat, and his legs and arms were long and muscled. His face gleamed in sweat and lust.

His dick elongated in thick roundness, leaking clear mucus from his tip. His balls were puffed into a pair of perfect round circles which were surrounded by blonde colored hair.

He sounded with a grunt, placing one of his legs on her bed frame while his other leg stood on the floor. His dick danced in the air.

She couldn't take her eyes off his pale colored organ, almost floating in the air like magic.

"A beauty, ain't it?" He smiled to her.

She stared at his dancing pale colored cock.

He lifted his other leg onto her bed frame, positioning in a doggie stance with his arms bent. His legs were bent at the kneecaps, as his dick rose and bounced slightly up and down. He crawled on both hands and feet to her.

Nell pulled the bed covers to her neck.

He grabbed the bedcovers, jerked, flying them down to the floor, chuckling with a smile. "Ready for me, kid?"

She laid exposed, folding both her arms over her breasts and pulling her legs into her stomach.

He laughed with an evil smirk. "Gentle. Henrietta tells me."

"Pa?" Nell said in both shock and confusion.

He shook his skull, saying with a sour frown. "Hush up, kid. I ain't your Pa. I be your king...King Henry."

"What?" Nell parted her lips.

King Henry crawled over her vertical body, covering her folded legs and breasts with his shadow.

She felt his heat and smelt his sweat, sobbing in tears of both fright and fear.

He used his hand and pulled back her hair and wiped the tears from her wet blue colored eyes, gently touching her face with his soft fingers, saying with a smile. "Induction, all Boyer girls get inducted at fifteen years old. You got a pa, but it ain't me. Henrietta ain't your ma either. When kids be born at the hospital, people just take them. So's I took ya. You're mine to do with, as I please. Since I ain't your real pa."

"What!?" She whispered with shock.

"Hush, kid. Enjoy this. Explain later." King Henry reached down and pulled her mouth lips to his soft lips, licking her lips and her mouth, kissing her gently. So tender.

She closed her eyelashes, thinking Henry was not her real pa. Henrietta was not her real ma.

He pressed his warm soft lips into her closed mouth, as the sensations felt good to her body.

"Want to fuck, kid," he whispered into her face with a chuckle. "I'll better than the finger, kid." He grabbed her hand, massaging her fingers, saying with a grin. "Much better." He licked her finger, the one wet with her vagina juice, saying with a grin again. "Good tasting!" He gently kissed each finger on her hand with a goofy grin.

She viewed his dick bouncing up and down, looking hard, round, and primed with more twinkling mucus and ready to pop.

He kissed her palm and moved his moist lips to the top of her hand, then her forearm, then her elbow, then her arm, and then her neck.

She started breathing heavy with good sensations, closing her eyelashes, sounding with a moan.

He playfully bit her neck with his teeth.

She sounded with a moan and a whisper. "So nice." Her sexual juices were flowing through her body feeling her vagina widened and ached with the growth of a bigger opening.

He kissed and licked her cheek, moving down to lick and tickle her ear with his soft warm tongue.

She sounded with a giggle and a moan.

He kissed her cheek and her nose, moving his soft lips down to her mouth.

Her mouth was open from the sounds of a groan and a moan, desiring more good sensations, smelling the sweat, passion and sex.

He entered her mouth with his tongue, licking her parted lips, thrusting the tip of his tongue onto her tongue.

She sounded with a groan, opening her mouth wider.

His tongue enveloped her entire mouth, encircling her mouth with his tongue going up, down, round and round.

She touched his tongue tip with her tongue tip and played tug-of-war with their tongues, sounding with a moan.

He covered her mouth with his whole mouth as their tongues drooled with mouth spit.

Her breasts tinkled and wanted to play too. They wanted to be touched by his hands, his tongue, and his dick also. She unfolded her legs and angled them to the opposite side for his dick.

His dick tapped on the top of her open exposed stomach, feeling hot then cold flesh, making her sound with a hiss.

He leaned into her body and as, his mouth covered her mouth almost to her nose, making his sound of grunts.

She flopped both her arms on the top of the pillow, whispering. "Take me!"

He dropped his weight onto her exposed naked body, touched her right breast with his soft warm strong hand, kissing her face. She sounded with a groan.

He massaged her breast going around and around. She sounded with a moan.

His fingertips connected to her nipple, squeezing and pulling over and over again. She sounded with a groan.

He altered his finger tip, squeezing and circling her single breast. She sounded with a groan.

He sat on his knees with both his hands on her two breasts, squeezing and circling each breast. His mouth thrust and sucked her tongue and the air from her lungs. She mouth-drooled with a groan. He removed his hands. The fresh air surrounded her nipples, cooling the hot sensations. He moved his hands to her pillow placing behind her head.

She was lying flat with her head on the mattress. Her neck was arched. Her back was flat against the bed.

He gently pushed her body down by her shoulders. His dick tapped, touched her flat stomach, and bounced up and down pouring hot liquid sizzled upon her cool flesh. He kissed the center of her neck, her shoulder. She closed her eyelashes, burning the passionate sensation, arching the neck for more kissing action.

He kissed her right breast and licked, massaging it with his tongue, biting it with his teeth so tender, and nipped so nice. She sounded with a groan.

He moved to her other breast. She sounded with a moan.

He moved to her rib cage, licking and sucking the flesh with his tongue then to her waist licking.

Her pussy pained with stretching. Her vagina enlarged as her hot juices flooded the bed linens under her legs. "Ready," she whispered. He licked her abdomen. "Keep going," she whispered.

He kissed and licked in a straight line down to her pelvis bone and stopped. She sounded with a groan arching her back spine his entrance.

He spread her legs and folded them at her knees, shifting her pelvis further down at the edge of the bed. The bed mattress waved against her body as she whispered with a groan. "Touch me. Lick me. Suck me. Fuck me."

He grabbed her ankles, squeezing with his strong hands as she sounded with a moan. He blew air across her pubic hairs as she giggled from the tickle.

He swiftly kissed her blonde tiny curly hairs and the skin below while licking and kissing with the tip of his tongue, touching the lip of her vagina.

She hissed. So nice. "Suck me," she whispered as he licked her vagina with his entire tongue up and down, up and down. She whispered with a moan. "Suck me." The tip of his tongue entered her vagina. She whispered with a groan. "Suck me." He entered deeper with his tongue as she screamed, "Fuck me." He chuckled as his tongue thrust in and out of her pussy. She screamed, again, "Fuck me." His movement increased as she arched her back and hips. His hands kept her ankles in place and his tongue moved in her vagina up, down, side to side, in and out, in and out.

She screamed out loud in pleasure. "Gawd! O gawd!" Her body exploded in her vagina, her stomach, her bones, and her mind with incredible sensations of pleasure and lust as the hot liquid flowed from her vagina to his mouth. He sucked over and over again cleaning her pussy of the hot sex passion. Using his tongue, he ate her juices, until she felt refreshed. She giggled with a shiver and a shake of coolness.

He moved from her pussy to her mouth, entering and thrusting his wet tongue around and around her mouth while cleaning her juices from his mouth. She tasted her sex. Her pussy. Her vagina. Herself. He removed his tongue from her mouth as she opened her eyes. He smiled and she smiled. "Well, kid, from this day forward ya call me, King Henry," He chuckled into her smile.

"King Henry," Nell whispered softly.

He chuckled. "Now, going to fuck ya long, hard, and slow..."

She slightly nodded and wanted to be fucked long, hard, and slow with hot passionate sensations throughout her body and as her mind could not stop spinning with the forthcoming pleasure. "King Henry..."

He kissed her mouth with his full mouth and tongue as she closed her eyelashes. He placed his dick between her breasts, gently rubbing it up and down with the wet thing. "Touch it, gentle," he ordered as she placed both her hands around the object, rubbing and touching his dick.

His organ pulsed with life and appeared full, round, thick, hot, sweating, wet smelly, and slippery and as his sex juice leaked, covering the tip and half way down the middle.

She used her index finger and her thumb massaging up and down.

He jerked his dick away. "Not yet, later, kid." He lifted a torso and shifted his penis down to her waist, rubbing up and down against her. She moved her arms around his neck as her fingertips barely touched the back of his neck. He moved his body, bouncing his wet thick penis, resting it on her pelvis bone, and leaned back on his knees. He grabbed her ankles and folded her legs, spreading them for him to enter. She breathed heavy. Excited. Anticipation. Thrill. She tilted her pelvis up. "A natural, kid," he chuckled. Her vagina ached for penetration and her juices were drowning the bed linens with her hot clear fluid. He leaned to your pussy, teasing and rubbing the tip of his dick up and down over her clitoris. Teasing. Taunting. Flaunting.

"Fuck me," she shouted. He chuckled and inserted his wet tip inside, gently edging her. She sounded with a groan. He pushed deeper into her. She screamed from the pain. His dick was so thick, big, and round and as he pushed deeper, slowly. She screamed again from the pain, feeling the good sensations too. "Fuck me," she shouted. He pushed in her pussy hard and as his penis entered half-way. She screamed in pain. "Gawd, O gawd."

He grabbed her flinging arm and braced behind her head, placing his hand over her mouth, leaning down to her face, and whispered. "Scream, kid." He shoved his dick into her pussy with speed and force. She screamed. His hand covered her female noises to small muffles of grunts as he shoved deeper in and pulled out. She screamed with pain and as, her vagina contracted too quickly. His dick was too large and too big and as he shoved deeper in and pulled out.

She screamed again with more pain. He shoved in and out, over and over, again. She screamed again with rolling tears from her eyelashes in pain, until she reached her first orgasm. Her body shook and shivered from both lust and pleasure. He tensed too coming to his orgasm. He stopped, breathing and grunting, and smiled with lust. His dick started to deflate in her vagina. She didn't feel the tight pressure associated with pain anymore. He pulled a flat penis from her pussy, chuckling. "Good fuck, kid." Nell breathed heavy without speaking or moving. He sat back on his knees and as, his dick died and crinkled in a shivered worm.

"King Henry," Nell stared into his eyes and whispered softly.

He leaned down and kissed her lips. "Same time, tomorrow night," he smiled and moved from her bed, leaving the door, strutting in his naked butt cheeks without looking back at her.

Nell was stunned. Henry wasn't her Pa. Henrietta wasn't her Ma. And she had been fucked not being a virgin anymore. She was a whore and sobbed with tear to sleep on March third.

Friday March 4th

Boyer High School (two miles west from Nell's house)

8:08 a.m.

Classroom setting

Cool temperatures with bright sunshine

At school, her face was tear-stained with a pair of blood shot eyeballs, entering the classroom with a chin in down into the chest, sliding down into the usual assigned classroom seat beside her two best girlfriends.

Her best girlfriend June turned and smiled at Nell. "Ya got inducted last night. Huh?"

Her other best girlfriend April giggled and grinned. "It was your birthday last night. Right, Nell?"

"My birthday was in the month of January." Nell stared down at the pencil, not her two best girlfriends.

"That's weird!" June frowned at Nell as the school bell rung for the start of high school.

Nell sat through all the academic classes, thinking about the nasty event last night which was not on her birthday but the date of March third.

During lunch, her girlfriends April and June tattled with a grin and a whisper into the eardrums of Nell. They both had been fucked by King Henry on a birthday too. They didn't know their parents either.

When a Boyer child was born in the local hospital, a Boyer couple offered to care for the babe not necessary the biological mother and father, either. The mother had been fucked many times by the Boyer males that she didn't know the baby's biological father. Not to insult or angry her married husband, the babe was adopted by another clan member of the small farm town of Boyer like a clan of damn grizzly bears.

King Henry got the right of Induction when each female turned fifteen years of age on her birthday night. Then another Hartmann male got the right of her womanhood at the age of eighteen.

Nell rolled her eyes and her pencil, thinking that she lived in a sick town full of sick people. Also all her high school friends were really her biological cousins or maybe, her biological sisters, as well.

June and April tattled that they liked the fuck from King Henry. After Induction, each girl was fucked by her non-Pa in her bedroom at her house, every night.

Nell exhaled and admitted that the fucking part was great, after being scared at first. But King Henry was so gentle and tender.

So nice.

She smiled in her academic classroom and coughed, clearing out the lusty thoughts. She was a sick bitch like her two friends and two half-sisters June and April, storing the precious newsflash.

House of Henry Hartmann

Bedroom of Nell setting

3:03 p.m.

Nell returned home from school, greeting with a smile.

Henrietta was not her ma, who hummed in the kitchen performing her cleaning and cooking chores.

Nell gave her a hug like always as Henrietta did not know about last night in Nell's private bedroom. Her non-ma continued to fix supper as Nell strolled to her bedroom, changing her clothes, pondering the conservation meeting at suppertime.

Henry was not her pa, either.

Around 6:00 p.m., King Henry came home from his work day at the nursing home, hugging, and kissed Nell on her cheek like always.

But he was her non-parent.

Nell cringed with both embarrassment and shame.

However, Henrietta didn't notice Nell's tart reaction to King Henry's affectionate display.

They strolled as a family unit to the dinner table for supper.

Nell discussed her day at school as King Henry talked about his day at work. Henrietta nodded her blonde curls in silence, humming a repeating musical tone.

And then supper time ended.

Nell skipped to her bedroom, finishing homework and bath for the evening.

Around 9:00 o'clock, King Henry strolled to Nell's room for sex, performing kisses, licks, sucks, and finally a fuck, completing their evening. By the end of week, he had taught Nell how to give blow jobs. He liked to have a blow job a lot, wanting more than one during the evening of their sex acts. He started to fuck her more than one time during the evening too. He engaged her three times in three different positions. Him on top. Her on top. Doggie style. Upright in the chair, on the floor, in the shower, on the table or everywhere.

Within two weeks, Nell was a professional whore at fucking. She could have run away and joined the nasty hookers on Maple Street in the metro city of Pensacola, making some real money, instead of her pitiful weekly allowance from King Henry. She also noticed that Henrietta was oblivious to the nightly fucks as Nell screamed almost waking the dead in the cemetery down the street at the church.

At the end of the month, he had developed a routine evening ritual. Home at 6:00 p.m., supper at 6:30 p.m., fucking Henrietta at 7:00 p.m., and finally fucking Nell at 9:00 p.m.

The afternoon in the month of April, Henrietta was in a nasty mood yelling and cursing at her husband in the kitchen about Nell. So King Henry came home early calming Henrietta.

Then Nell noticed it. King Henry placed a substance in Henrietta's sweet tea drink as he calmed her ugly verbal and mental fit. So Nell was curious.

When they all left the kitchen for their evening fucking, Nell snuck back to the kitchen. Henrietta's tumbler glass held a tiny bit of a brown beverage. Nell drunk the liquid in the tumbler, gagged, coughed, and mouth spat. The sweet tea was not sweet tea. The taste was whiskey with a bitter aftertaste like a red pepper. So King Henry was mixing drugs in Henrietta's whiskey beverage, every day. So the alcohol controlled Henrietta's angry as the drug made Henrietta both docile and sleepy, every evening. Nell's best friend and half-sister June tattled that King Henry had fucked every fifteen-year-old female in the town of Boyer.

So, Nell had researched the remaining kids in her ninth grade class. The school contained all children from the ages of six to eighteen years, until graduation day from Boyer High School.

Nell had thirteen kids in her class, six girls and seven guys. Two of females would turn fifteen years old, this month. She found their birth dates in an old book under the coffee table in the house of her non-pa and non-ma.

The next birthday date of the female in ninth grade was respectively April 15th and April 23th.

So, she watched and waited.

Nell was fucked every night between nine pm and ten pm with four sexual engagements which she learned to like it. Hell. She learned to love it. He was a very gentle lover. Her vagina grew accustomed to his big dick and as her pain had reduced and her pleasure had increased.

On April 15th, he was late coming back home, missing supper with both Nell and Henrietta.

Her non-ma was more tired and drugged more than usual, resting in her bed in their private chamber. Nell went to bed, not sleeping, but waiting.

Around 9:45 pm, he came home, slammed opened the front door, went up the stairs, and barged in her bedroom. "Miss me," he said with a happy smile and stripped off his rain coat, exposing his nakedness to her. He dove into her vagina, kissing her face with tender touches.

"Fucked Maggie?" Nell panted and smiled during their sex act.

"Yeah!" He sweet breathed between the usual thrusting dick patterns.

"Good fuck." Nell panted between breathes.

"Nope, the wimpy bitch cried the whole time."

"You enjoyed it. Right, King Henry?" She smiled to him.

"Love it, kid. Can't get enough," he ejaculated and kissed her lips. "Same time, tomorrow, kid." Nell endured the nightly fucking the entire month of April from King Henry, loving the sex, making her emotional sensations raw, pure, lust, and sinful pleasure.

Saturday May 14th

Boyer Nursing Home (across the street from Nell's house)

9:09 a.m.

Private business office of Henry setting

Cool temperatures with partly cloudy sky

In May, Nell did not start her menstrual period on time as she was late by three days, and was never late. However, she was smart enough to know that if you did not use and eat a daily birth control pill, then you got pregnant with a baby.

He worked in his private office at the Boyer Nursing Home, his own private business.

She didn't like entering the Boyer Nursing Home. The place smelled. The old people stunk. But Nell had to tell him the new data.

On a beautiful Saturday morning, Nell walked across the city street from her home to the quiet lobby, strolling down the shiny clean hallway, stopping. She knocked softly on his office door.

"Enter," King Henry yelled.

The door opened.

He frowned to Nell with surprise, not smiling.

She closed the office door as the nurses were busy with the elderly patients. She was both nervous and scared, saying. "I missed my period."

King Henry was mellow not smiling or yelling. He stood from the work desk and moved to her, hugging and holding her close in his chest. "Don't fret, kid."

They left the office together.

He opened the car door for her as she slid into the seat. He moved and scooted in his driver's seat, leaning and winking with a smile to her. "Get ya fixed, kid.

Two miles south of Boyer

Physician office setting Daniel Wingo MD

9:19 a.m.

King Henry drove a few miles out of the small farm town Boyer and stopped in front of a red colored bricked building. The sign read: Daniel Wingo MD. He helped her out of the seat and entered the front door.

Nell stood beside him in an empty lobby.

The interior door opened.

A tall slender male with bronze colored skin was both elderly and the physician. He said with a smirk. "Good afternoon, young lady."

"Hi." Nell stared at the physician.

"This way." The male didn't mention his name.

So Nell guessed that the physician owned the private medical practice which was located away from Boyer, following him to a private examination room. King Henry followed behind Nell into the same room, stopping and sat down inside the chair against the solid beige wall.

"Please remove your clothes," the physician fiddled with some equipment at the wall counter without looking at Nell. She stopped next to the bed and stepped out of the skirt, the panties, and the pair of shoes while laying each item on top of the table next to the bed. He swung around with a stern face to her, "Remove all your clothes!"

Nell turned and frowned at King Henry. "Do it, kid!" King Henry smiled with a nod. Nell removed the blouse and the bra with a pair of pale breasts hanging out as the air was cold and chilled her naked body.

"Climb on the table! Place your feet inside each stirrup," the physician pointed down to the stirrups. Nell climbed upon the examination table and sat down on the ass, lifting up both naked feet into the air and settled them into a pair of sturdy but cold metal stirrups. The physician moved ahead and stood at her side, blocking the eyeballs of King Henry while buckling a set of two leather bands across her ankles. She hissed with the surprise. The physician continued to work with a wicked smirk. "There! There! It is proper procedure here in my medical examination room," he moved both of her hands behind her head, placing them onto a metal bar. "Don't move! It is very important that you don't shift or move during the delicate medical procedure."

"Okay," she croaked with nervousness and as her naked body was cold and shivering without the aid of a blanket. He continued to block the eyeballs of King Henry. She wanted to see the worried face of King Henry while desiring reassurance of this nasty medical procedure coming from this nastier medical physician.

Daniel Wingo, MD was going to kill the developing fetus inside her womb by pulling the tiny body apart in her vagina. Nell had read a book coming from the Boyer City Library as she was getting an abortion and needed a box of birth control pills, so this would not happen again.

Wingo slowly reached down and massaged one of her breasts. She looked down at his roaming hand with a hiss. His hand was soft and warm and as he said with a wicked grin. "The massage helps stimulant the uterus for the insertion." His hand rubbed around and round on her single breast and nipple, reaching over and touched her other breast with the other hand. She closed the eyelashes with a soft grunt. He said with a smooth voice and a wicked grin. "Relax. Relax."

She breathed, noting that his hands were not gloved for the medical procedure and they were rubbing both her bare breasts and tensed.

He massaged both her breasts for one minute.

Nell was getting warm in her pussy from his raw hand touch and as her body thought that King Henry was working her for an evening fuck.

He moved his hand down and touched her exposed rib cage with his index finger, going passed her waist to her abdomen. "Relax. Relax," he smiled and touched her pubic hairs with his index finger, parting the lips of her vagina. His finger slowly slipped in her opening.

She hissed at him, wiggling her body.

He said with a wicked grin. "Relax. Relax," he pushed his two fingers deeper in her pussy. "Relax. Just checking." He slowly moved his fingers out and shoved his two fingers gently in her pussy, again.

She hissed at him, wiggling her body side to side.

He said with a wicked grin, drooling form his lips. "Relax."

Her ankles were tense and stiff on the two leather strips of bands in the metal stirrups which held her legs locked in place.

Wingo was finger-fucking her pussy, moving his two fingers in and out at a slow steady pace, blocking her view of King Henry with his tallness.

Her juices were boiling. Her vagina was expanding. Her breasts were tickling. Her legs were quivering. Her body was shaking.

She couldn't release her hands from the metal bar behind her skull.

Wingo didn't speak a word with a head tilted slightly backwards.

The son of bitch was envisioning his nasty fucking dreams on her.

He breathed, sighed, and finally finished fucking her. He removed his ungloved two fingers from her vagina. Then Wingo shifted from her blind side to the front of her pussy which exposed Wingo and King Henry in her view.

She glanced to see King Henry.

King Henry was smiling with crossed arms, enjoying the nasty sexual performance too.

Wingo kneel down, viewing her pussy with his eyes and his hands below the table lip, leaning closer to her vagina.

She felt his hot breath on her pussy.

He was getting another fantasy mind fuck in his sick brain plus a hard on, probably.

If King Henry wasn't present, the sick bastard would drop his pants and fuck her on the table with his elongated dick.

He breathed on her pussy again. "Ready?" Wingo sounded with a moan of a breathless speech. Nell wiggled side to side with her trapped and wanted off the examination table. Wingo swung around to the counter, slapping on a pair of sterile gloves over his hands, reaching for a long pipe-cleaner-like instrument. He turned swiftly to her, smiling, and plunged the metal in her pussy with both quick force and rapid speed. Nell felt the cold metal rubbing the sides of her uterus. The metal stopped and connected to her tender skin tissue as he smiled. Her irises widened and stared. He smiled, jerking the metal instrument out of her vagina as she screamed. He said with a smile and nod, "There! We are all done and better now!" Wingo pivoted to the counter and washed the surgical instrument in the sink. Nell sobbed with tears from her aching vagina bleeding on the metal table. He twisted to her and slammed a bandage, catching some of the blood from her vagina. He unleashed the two leather bands on her ankles.

She sat upright and held the bandage in place over her vagina as her blood flowed in the bandage filling the cotton with the color of bright red. "I'm bleeding," she stared at the color, exhaling with fear and sobbing with tears.

"Only for a couple of days," Wingo turned to see King Henry with the order. "No sex for three days."

"Okay," King Henry said with a smile and a nod. Nell gasped. Wingo knew King Henry had fucked her. He was a physician and not going to do anything. She was fifteen years old.

"Get dressed! We're done." Wingo said without looking at her and removing the blood stained lab coat on the wall, exchanging it for a new one.

"I'm bleeding." Nell sobbed with tear on the examination table.

Wingo whipped around to her, saying with a smile and a nod. "You're a Hartmann, right?"

"Yeah...," she said, viewing the blood.

"You'll get over it." Wingo chuckled at her as King Henry stood from the chair, providing a wad of cash wad to Wingo's open palm. The physician nodded, exiting the examination room. Nell was a fucking whore, getting a fucking abortion as these males were acting like it happened, every damn day.

King Henry helped Nell off the table and dressed her as she held the cotton bandage in place with blood and still bleeding. He kissed her lips, "Great, kid." She sobbed as he gently lifted her to his chest, carrying her out to the car. He placed her in the seat, kissing her lips again. He entered the driver's side and started the engines. She sobbed with both tears and pain as they drove home in silent.

House of Henry Hartmann

Bedroom of Nell setting

10:10 a.m.

King Henry carried her to her private bedroom as Henrietta fussed over Nell, bringing her a tray of food like a sick kid. King Henry told his wife that Nell had caught a stomach virus from school, needing to rest for a few days at home. Henrietta smiled with a nod to Nell. Then her non-pa and non-ma left her bedroom.

Nell sat naked inside the bed mattress, stuffing more clean bandages inside the panties, trying to stop the bleeding. She couldn't eat or sleep, only sob with pain, embarrassment, and shame.

On the second day of her recuperation, King Henry entered her bedroom. Henrietta was shopping for food. He plopped on the edge of her mattress, massaging her naked feet then her kneecaps, then her thighs, and then finally touched her breasts, smiling. "Wingo says this'll help heal your pussy." He kissed her lips, then her cheeks, and finally her shoulders. He hugged her with a sweet grin.

"I need some birth control pills to prevent this from happening, again." Nell softly said.

He shook his skull, smiling. "No need. Ya stopped bleeding. We will be more careful." She didn't comment, as his whore, and couldn't talk to anyone else about this, falling asleep in his warm arms.

The next morning, Nell felt much better stronger and not bleeding. She moved from the bed to the bathroom washing her body and changing her clothes. The house was empty. Her non-pa and non-ma were at church. She ate, walking around the house, feeling both sore and tender.

When they came home, Nell spent the day and night in her private room sleeping and relaxing.

At 6:00 pm, Henrietta fussed over her, bringing both food and magazines.

At 7:00 pm, King Henry fucked his wife in their private bedroom. Her body didn't react to the sex sounds but ached with pain.

At 9:00 pm, King Henry entered her room, smiling and laid on her bed, playfully tugging her nightgown open. The man wanted to fuck her. He sucked on her breasts and kissed her lips, then cheeks, then neck, then shoulders, and finally her lips, smiling, and stood, leaving her room.

By the third day, King Henry was getting antsy and really wanted sex with her, entering her bedroom naked. "Gentle," smiling.

"No." She pulled the bedcovers down to the neck, shaking the curls.

"Very gentle! I promise." He massaged both of her breasts and caressed her stomach, sliding his finger in her wet vagina. She hissed with reaction. He tilted a skull with a smirk, "Pain?" She smiled, shaking her curls. "Hurt?" He sawed a finger in and out of her vagina. She smiled, shaking her curls. "Youth?" He chuckled, thrusting a finger in and out, testing the strength of her pussy and the flow of juices. And she flowed nicely and as her vagina reacted with painful stretching, creating an entrance opening for his dick, exhaling in pleasure. He spread her legs apart, leaning down and sucking on her juices with his tongue. She hissed and groaned with pleasure. He shifted his mouth to her mouth, kissing and playing with her tongue. He played with her breasts and spread her legs open. She dreaded the penetration of his dick. His dick was large round and sweating with pleasure. "Gentle," he rubbed the tip of his penis to the wet lips of her vagina, slowly penetrating the tip in her vagina with no pain. She hissed. He increased the depth with his expanded dick slowly and gently. She sounded with a moan. He pressed and fully penetrated without any movement. She sounded with a groan of pleasure. He gently moved in and out.

He moved in and out as she did not scream with pain. His motion was a tender and smooth fucking action with a steady stroke.

She smiled with pleasure and hit her climax exploding with lust, quivering with passion and tilted her skull back, yelling. "Gawd..."

He chuckled, hitting his climax, coming, and tensed, shivering. He pulled out a flat dick from her wet vagina, winking at her. "Good fuck, kid." King Henry kissed her lips for the final act of the evening.

By the end of the week, Nell was working as a whore again screaming out loud during sex and rotating to different sex positions by King Henry. Poor Henrietta was both drunk and stoned inside her bedroom while asleep and she was deaf, dumb, and blind to all the loud animal noises. And the abortion ritual was no big deal now.

At fifteen years old, Nell visited Daniel Wingo every other month, enduring his nasty finger-fucking ritual and painfully bloody abortion pulling procedure. Her vagina pain always subsided after each jerk of the fetus line from the small metal instrument. However, Wingo had no quit his finger-fucking touch with Nell. She was lying on her back spine and tied by her ankles to the cold metal examination table. He smiled looking to her hateful eyes. And she didn't bleed as much either after receiving six abortions, killing six of King Henry's babies. However, King Henry didn't care about the dead fetuses only rushing her to Wingo, after missing her period for the month.

Next calendar year

Tuesday January 3rd

Sixteen years old Nell Nan Hartmann

Confirmation ritual

Home location of Queenie

Music room setting

6:30 p.m.

Cold temperatures with bright starry night

At sixteen years old, Nell received a new sports car from King Henry, making all her friends, well, her half-sisters jealous. And Nell received her Confirmation with the woman Queenie too.

Queenie was a beautiful woman around thirty years old, who lived with three other gorgeous women in a big house at the end of Nell's street. The women possessed long blond hair, blue eyes, long legs, tiny waists, and 36DD large breasts.

Nell's breasts were not double DDs but nice tits as King Henry told her every night during their fucking event.

Supper was served at six p.m. in the evening without King Henry.

At 6:30 p.m., he picked Nell up from the house to visit Queenie Hartmann as Nell stared her new music lesson.

However, Nell didn't need music lessons singing all the songs in choir.

King Henry walked Nell to the new front door and entered the unlocked door.

Nell sat on the sofa in the quiet living room as King Henry kissed her lips, smiling and nodding. "Later, kid."

Queenie entered the room in both grace and elegance, strolling to Nell, offered a warm hand and a sweet smile. "Nell! So, nice to finally meet you in person. I'm Queenie. I see you in church all the time."

"Yes ma'am." Nell said with a smile and a nod.

"We're going to start our lesson of Confirmation in another room. Follow me this way, please."

Nell stood as Queenie grabbed Nell's arm folding in both her hands as their bodies touched very close.

They walked side by side.

Queenie said with a smile and a nod. "This is much more comfortable. Don't you agree, Nell?" She moved and opened the door.

The music room was dark almost black.

Nell could not see anything but a few pieces of furniture. There was a lounge chair with a tilted head rest.

"Have a seat. Get comfortable. Do you want something to drink, dear?" Queenie smiled, standing in the doorway.

"No ma'am." She smiled, scanning the room for an instrument or a song book or a musical notes chart.

Queenie walked to the other side of the room, touching a devise as soft classic music bombarded the room. She smiled and sashayed to Nell as her ankle-length red silk robe wiggled side to side. She knelt on the floor with her head even with Nell's breasts, saying with a smile and a nod. "You're very pretty, Nell."

"Thank you." She stared at Queenie's blue eyes.

Queenie touched Nell's blond hair at the temple with her hand, stroking it down to the end tips, giggling and placing both her hands on the side of Nell's face gently. "A very pretty, girl."

"Thank you." She smiled.

"For the rest of the night, I'll perform the lessons, while you watch me." Queenie nodded.

"Yes ma'am." She smiled.

"I want you to close your eyes and relax. Enjoy this." Queenie said with a smile and a nod.

Nell closed her eyelashes, leaning her skull on the head rest, letting the classic music absorb into her mind as she felt Queenie's warm hands touching her face and heard Queenie giggling.

Then she felt Queenie's soft lips touching her lips as Queenie giggled.

Nell opened her eyelashes.

Queenie said with a smile and a whisper. "Relax. I'm going to do all the work."

Nell watched.

Queenie kissed Nell's closed lips, saying. "Open."

Nell parted her lips.

Queenie licked the opening of Nell's mouth, forcing Nell's lips wider apart. She was licking Nell's lips and kissing them. Queenie's lips were so soft. Queenie's touch was so tender. Her kisses were light and airy, not like King Henry's kisses. His kisses were thrusts of sex, hot passion, and lust.

Her kisses were small, soft, and light.

Nell sounded with a groan and liking another woman who kissed her.

Queenie shifted both her hands from Nell's cheeks and unbuttoned the top button on Nell's blouse, kissing Nell's lips.

Nell leaned back and relaxed, enjoying the sex lust, closing her eyelashes.

Queenie popped the last button open as the blouse spread open, revealing Nell's bra.

The bra was a front closure not a back. Henrietta had purchased all of Nell's clothes.

Nell had no choice, feeling the hands of Queenie touch her bra clip, snapping it open and as Nell's breasts popped forth into a set of small rounded tits.

Queenie removed the blouse and the bra with her small slender fingers, touching both of Nell's soft breasts with her warm fingers.

Nell sounded with a groan.

Queenie giggled and massaged Nell's breasts up, down, and round vigorously as she shifted her mouth to Nell's lips, kissing the chin, the throat, and the neck with her hot lips.

Nell's juices started flowing in her panties. Her vagina started aching with pain. Her pussy was growing developing an entrance hole. Her pussy was being tricked into thinking that King Henry was going to enter for a nightly fucking. Nell sounded with a moaned of lust and pleasure, loving this too.

Queenie's touch was so soft and firm at the same time as King Henry's touch was gentle with her breasts teasing, biting, and caressing like them.

Women understood breasts. The tits were indestructible and made of fat, muscle, and nerves.

Queenie squeezed, released, massaged, patted, pulled and pushed both of Nell's breasts.

"O gawd...," Nell whispered with lust, sensations, and pleasure.

Queenie kissed and licked Nell's neck and ears, slowly painstaking moving her soft lips to Nell's breasts.

Nell sounded with a groan. "Lick me. Suck me." Her juices were hotly flooding in her panties.

Queenie halted with her body playing and her hands.

Nell panted for air, whispering. "More. Gawd."

Queenie stripped Nell of her clothing as Nell's hot fluid poured out from her pussy on the blanket in the chair. The lounge chair was covered in a thick sheet of white.

Queenie opened Nell's bare legs wide and dunk her mouth to Nell's pussy, biting and licking the lips of Nell's vagina.

Nell screamed in lust and pleasure.

Queenie sucked and gorged on the flowing white juices, using her delicate tongue to lick and to clean every drop of vaginal discharge between Nell's legs and licking her tongue down the inside of Nell's inner thigh.

"Gawd!" Nell screamed, smiling with lust

Queenie ripped off her silk robe, flinging her naked body on top of naked Nell as the weight fooled Nell's body into shivering and quaking, thinking it King Henry.

Nell's juices started to flow again and as, her vagina was enlarging for the penetration of a penis.

Queenie bit into Nell's breast with her teeth, grabbing a mouth full of tit, including the nipple. Her tongue was tickling Nell's nipple up and down and released. Nell screamed with lust and pain. Queenie bit into Nell's breast, engulfing both the tit and the nipple.

"Gawd!" Nell yelled. "Bite me. Lick me. Suck me. Fuck me," she was lost in the raw sensations of pleasures and delights of sex.

Queenie lifted and tilted Nell's pelvis up and jammed something in the hole of Nell's vagina.

"O gawd!" Nell screamed from the intense pain, opening her eyelashes, focusing on her pussy.

Queenie had stabbed a device into her vagina and then removed the devise, a mechanic plastic dick of five inches long and an inch circle. "My dick!" She smiled as Nell giggled. Queenie re-placed the plastic toy designed like a male's penis at the tip of Nell's vagina very gently, moving the tiny round plastic tip up and down inside Nell's vagina for a second time.

Nell's sensations flooded with raw and barbaric emotions and as her juices flooded the white linen sheet again. Her vagina did not care it was plastic dick. "Fuck me," Nell screamed.

Queenie jabbed the toy penis hard in Nell's aching pussy.

"Gawd!" Nell yelled.

Queenie jerked her hand back and forth, in and out, side to side deep and light.

Nell's discharge flowed onto the plastic dick, into Queenie's hands, and onto the blanket. Her vagina convoluted in a spasm from the forced entrance with the rough fucking motion of Queenie's hand. The sex sensation was raw and pure as Nell's body exploded. Her mind shook while her legs quivered and her arms went numb.

Queenie removed the toy from Nell's vagina.

Nell spread her legs.

Queenie leaned down and sucked the sweet flowing juices to her mouth, licking with her tongue, sucking with her lips, pressing Nell's abdomen down with her left hand for more nutritional nourishment of Nell's sex discharge.

Nell groaned then moaned, breathing heavy and feeling tired and exhausted from the lustful sex act.

Queenie finished cleaning Nell's vagina and pubic hairs, going all the way down to her inner thighs and almost up to her knees.

Nell yawned with sleep, remembering the music in the background of Queenie's music room.

Wednesday January 4th

House of Henry Hartmann

Bedroom of Nell setting

7:07 a.m.

Cold temperatures with dull sunlight

Nell awoke in her bedroom as Henrietta knocked and yelled for Nell to rouse from her bed for school. She changed, dressing for school, feeling tired, dirty, and nasty, vividly recalling the sequential events from last night sitting on the school bus.

Nell was fucked by Queenie, making her a lesbian now.

So Nell liked girls not guys.

So Nell was a lesbian whore, meaning that King Henry wouldn't fuck her again. She felt sad hoping her, thinking wasn't true. She liked being fucked by King Henry. She decided not to discuss Queenie or the fucking with a plastic toy penis or the licking of her pussy with Queenie's tongue or Queenie's kisses so tender with any of her school mates during school.

Nell slid down into the desk chair without paying attention to the class lecture of history. None of her friends or half-sisters had ever mentioned this event. Nell realized that Henrietta would have been fucked by a different Queenie of her time, because every year the most beautiful girl at Boyer High School was selected as the 'Queen of Boyer' and was nicknamed as Queenie.

Nell knew everything now, understanding Henrietta's sweet tea composed of alcohol and drugs from the Boyer Nursing Home. Henrietta tried to forget being once fucked by a woman at the age of sixteen years old. Getting fucked by a guy was natural being a female. Being fucked by a woman, you didn't have a choice being a girl's Confirmation in Boyer, Florida.

The bell had rung ending the school day.

Nell didn't remember a single fact of any academic subject in school, only reliving her fucking night with Queenie and loved it.

Nell loaded onto the school bus, watching her friends aka her biological brothers and sisters, going back to their homes. She had learned that an adult married wife and husband in the small town of Boyer fucked each other's sons and daughters, during an Induction, a Confirmation, and probably some other shitty ritual that Nell hadn't discovered. These kids were heading back home to their non-parents, eating dinner, watching some television. Then the kid went to bed and got fucked by their appropriate non pa or no ma, falling asleep happy.

At the age of eighteen, each female would marry another eighteen-year-old male and produce a baby, but not the one she had birthed. Then the three would live the rest of their shitty lives in Boyer, Florida. When a kid turned fifteen years old, the kid got fucked by a newly crowned King Henry for their Induction ceremony.

Nell exited the school bus, shaking her curls, entering her home like normal.

Like her normal daily and night routine, Nell had continued her nightly sex acts with King Henry and continued to get pregnant every other month with a missed menstrual period. And every other month, she got an abortion of the fetus in Wingo's office, after enduring his finger-fucking from his nasty medical treatment. However, one future dark and stormy afternoon, Nell would plan to sneak into Wingo's private home and cut off that index finger once and for all with a smile.

Tuesday February 14th

Boyer Nursing Home

10:20 a.m.

Private office of Henry setting

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

King Henry dropped the telephone receiver, pointing to the door. "Go on."

"Where?" Nell frowned.

"Wingo. Drive yourself." King Henry flung a hand, returning back to the papers.

Nell smiled with shocked, back pedaling out his office and dashed down the hallway and out the building. She possessed a valid driver's license and her new car, and excited to drive out of the city of Boyer to a smaller community south of her home. She was used to the nasty medical procedure as King Henry refused to give a package of birth control pills. Knowing, she would end up pregnant, again. They fucked every night, including on her messy smelly periods.

The man loved sex.

Two miles south of Boyer

Physician office setting of Daniel Wingo MD

10:30 a.m.

Nell raced to the clinic office, parking. She entered the cold empty reception room.

Wingo stood in his laboratory coat, hanging over his dress pants and his leather shoes, not speaking, as usual, and motioning his index finger to the examination room, like she couldn't remember.

Nell undressed, lying on top of the cold table both naked and exposed. Wingo tied the two leather bands around her ankles onto the metal stirrups which were used to hold her legs in place for the jerking of the fetus in her uterus. She slid both her arms over her head, holding the metal bar as the bar helped hold her body in place during the jerking action. Wingo wrapped a new set of leather bands around her wrists, securing her wrists. She grunted with surprise.

"I'm going to lubricant your vagina before the procedure. You have had so many abortions the uterus gets dried." Wingo faced the counter, dinging the surgical instruments. She didn't move, learning not to talk back and just be quiet getting it over with, closing her eyelashes.

Nell found Wingo disgusting. But his tit message and his finger-fuck motion eased some of her worried tensions with him in the cold examination room with her, alone. She dreamed of King Henry and his sweet fucks.

Wingo grunted in the room not rubbing her breasts with his bare hands. She heard a sound, opening her eyelashes. Wingo stood in front of her with his trousers down. His lab coat was neatly tied back behind his ass as his white penis waved to her. She struggled, jerking on the leather straps. "No."

"Quiet." Wingo moved his two fingers to her pussy, rubbing her up, down, and sideways as her juices started to flow. "You're quick," Wingo smirked. Her body was being tricked not her eyes. Wingo was going to fuck her with his dick, this time.

"Stop!" Nell shouted, struggling in the straps.

"Relax." Wingo viewed her pussy as the man drooled breathing deeply and heavy, enjoying this. She yanked on the leather strips around her wrists, too strong. She pulled on the leather bands tied around her ankles, too tight. He moved his elongated inflated fluid dripping dick closer to her enlarged pussy from his vagina petting. And her body was ready. Her nose recognized the odor of sex. Her breasts were tingling with a new sensation of penetration. Her legs quivered with fear, struggling against him not fast enough. "Relax." Wingo said with a wicked smirk, viewing his dick as his penis edged the tip to her vagina. He caressed the vagina's lips up and down with the tip of penis, lubricating the small and tender area.

"No," Nell screamed, struggling to get free.

"Good," he penetrated the tip as her pussy sucked in the rest of his five inched little penis. Then he pushed hard in and stopped. His organ was fully penetrated in her pussy. He exhaled with passion as she screamed and struggled in the leather straps. "Good," he closed his eyelids, bending at kneecaps and thrusting hard. Nell felt the tip of his dick as it hit her ovaries and screamed. He drove harder into her ovaries as she screamed. He punched in for a third time as she screamed. Wingo withdrew his dick from her pussy, titling a skull, drooling the mouth spit down from the tight lips. He breathed deeper, smiling and staring up in the ceiling. Then Wingo punched his dick deeper in her vagina as his tip hit the ovaries again. She screamed with pain. He exhaled, smirking with passion, withdrawing his dick and his dick completely crinkled to a lazy worm. He was an old man around seventy years of age to King Henry's prime lust of thirty-something. Wingo had hit his climax and came, during one of the last thrusts with both satisfaction and pleasure, and smiled, lifting his trouser over his shrinking wet dick. He turned from Nell, grabbing the abortion instrument, and spun around, stabbing in her vagina, and jerked out the cold metal instrument with her wet slimy mucus pussy and his dripping sperm.

Nell didn't scream out loud while feeling numbness and shock as she was too upset with his penis fucking and the pain from his dick which hit her ovaries over and over again with his brute man-force to King Henry's very gentle and kind fucking penis.

"Done!" Wingo smiled, untying the bands and strips from her ankles.

"I'm telling." Nell sobbed with crying tears, bleeding her blood on the table, as usual. She held the clean bandage to her vagina.

"Who do you think set up this arrangement? Abortions are illegal to minors. The medical procedure is very expensive." Wingo smiled. King Henry had arranged this medical procedure. Wingo smirked. "Money." Nell limped off the examination table, moving to her purse, searching for the wad of cash in her purse, and handed him the money. "You're a pleasure whore," Wingo smirked and counted the twenty dollar bills in front of her red swollen face, spinning around, exiting his examination room.

On her ninth pregnancy, Nell didn't need to see Wingo. She had missed her period and was about to inform King Henry when Nell got very ill with a set of stomach cramps, a dizzy headache, and tons of blood that dropped down from her vagina. Nell raced to the bathroom, feeling the need to shit and performed a body spasm with a plop. Something fell in the toilet, not a shit log from her ass, but a slimy thing from her vagina. Nell stood upright from the toilet seat, frowning down at the pool of blood object in the toilet water. She recognized that the gross blob from the glossy colored pictures in the medical books from the Boyer Library. It was a deformed baby from a miscarried fetus dropping out of her pussy in the bathroom toilet as she was sitting on pot shitting and cramping. The baby miscarriages happened every other month, appearing like a blob of blood which fell in the toilet bowl. Her monthly periods altered from a normal bleeding for seven days down to three days, and finally only one day.

At age seventeen years, Nell received Initiation ritual. King Henry drove them back to Queenie's house at six pm, after supper as Henrietta retired to her bedroom.

During the year, after turning sixteen years old, Nell's sex acts had included Queenie and her sisters, who were named Queenie II, III, and IV.

By the third week of her birthday month, Nell was being licked by one queen, kissed by another queen, and fucked by the third during one single sex act in the music room. Nell loved the music room, wanting more lesbian sex. She learned to suck a vagina, kiss a breast, and fuck a vagina with her own plastic toy dick. She was totally exhausted after each sex engagement, falling asleep on the chair and carried home by King Henry during the night.
Next calendar year

Wednesday January 3rd

Seventeen years old Nell Nan Hartmann

Initiation ritual

Home location of Queenie

6:31 p.m.

Music room setting

Cold temperatures with partly cloudy night

Nell entered inside Queenie's house with King Henry.

Queenie smiled, wearing her loosely wrapped silk robe with her big breasts bouncing and bobbing loose under the fabric. She cuddled and cradled Nell to her floppy breasts as Nell massaged Queenie, making her vagina expand with aches and pains for her first sex act. King Henry smiled and grunted behind them, spying on their lesbian encounter. Queenie passed the music room, entering a new space with two king sized bed mattresses. Standing on the wall, eighteen-year-old Brad Hartmann, XXI worn a silk robe, his bare foot, and a red faced.

"This is your Initiation." Queenie smiled and touched Nell on the breast.

King Henry pointed to Brad, saying with a smile and a nod. "You and Brad will be married, after you turn eighteen and graduate next year in May."

Nell smiled liking the Initiation process, so far. Brad was a big, blonde, smart, and nice looking teen. They had fun flirted with their eyeballs, their hands, and their feet back and forth at school, during lunchtime. A girl was not allowed to date a guy until seventeen years old, since every girl was getting fucked by her non pa once per week. And every guy was getting fucked by his non ma on the same night. Queenie taught music lessons to every sixteen and seventeen old gals.

Big Matt taught guitar practice to every sixteen and seventeen-year-old guy in Boyer, Florida. The boys were getting butt fucked by Big Matt once per week as the girls are getting fucked by Queenie. Sick town. Sick people. Sick rituals with gay guys and lesbian girls made whores, one and all.

"Kiss him!" King Henry said with a smile to Brad.

"What?" Nell said with a puzzled frown to King Henry.

"Kiss him!" He smiled and jabbed a finger to Brad. Nell moved to Brad as he leaned down and kissed her. She giggled as they both grinned goofy at each other. "You're engaged. Let's start." King Henry clapped with a smile.

Nell stared with a puzzled to Brad as he looked at her. Nell realized that she was going to fuck Brad in front of King Henry and Queenie. King Henry stripped off his silk robe, exposing his naked chest, legs, and bouncing penis ready for some fucking action. Queenie stripped off her silk robe as it fell to the floor. Both adults were naked. Queenie's breasts were full of sexual excitement, bouncing up and down with sinful lust. Her vagina juice dripped from her parted legs on the wooden floor. King Henry nodded to Brad.

Brad dropped his robe, exposing his naked teen body. He touched her arm, helping Nell unbutton the shirt. Brad and Nell were going to fuck each other. Brad smiled and his dick smiled back with a happy elongation, leaking head mucus, dripping on the floor.

Nell flung off her bra as Brad grabbed her breasts, a little too rough. He rubbed them, smiling. She dropped her skirt and her panties to the floor as her mind felt confused, but her leaking pussy dripped discharge sex juice down on the floor. Her body wanted to be fucked.

Brad moved his hands to her ass, rubbing it roughly up and down. Nell loved his touch which was different from King Henry's and Queenie's. Strong. Innocent. Loving. Brad pulled her naked body closer to his naked chest, pressing his wet dick into her stomach. She sounded with a groan as he sounded with a moan. They kissed.

King Henry and Queenie cuddled as one moving to one of the king sized mattress. Queenie was lying on her back muscles as King Henry kissed, massaged, and slipped his wet dick in her vagina, working it slow and gentle. He did the same fucking routine to Nell, every night, since she was fifteen years old. Queenie sounded with a moan as King Henry sounded with a groan, making their barbaric animal sounds which expanded Nell's pussy into an ache and enlargement for sex.

Brad lifted Nell in the air with one hand, steadying her small body against his left chest and shoved his two finger pads in her the wet vagina, finger-fucking her vagina and kissing her lips. He walked her to the second king size bed mattress against the wall, laying Nell down on her back muscles, finger twirling and swirling with fun and pleasure in her vagina. She sounded with a moan, closing her eyelashes to the delight and lust. Nell shifted arms around his neck, tickling his naked body. Brad leaned into her naked body with a touch of warmth and hot sensations of pure nasty lustful sex as her destiny was sealed with Brad, who would be her soul mate for the rest of her days in the small town of Boyer, Florida. Nell will marry Brad, next year. So, this sex ritual wasn't so bad. He finger-fucked her vagina in and out. Brad kissed her lips, removing his fingers as she sounded with a groan. He placed his finger in her mouth as she sucked his fingers, licking off her discharge.

Brad shifted his legs over her pussy, tracing his dick at the tip of her clitoris, moving it up to her pelvis bone, his abdomen, and his chest for fun and excitement. He touched her neck with his hot tip mucus, pouring over her sweaty skin and down to the cool sheets. He lifted and eased his dick into her mouth as she opened her lips wider. King Henry was small compared to Brad. Brad floated gently up and down in her mouth. She groaned. He moaned. Her teeth bit his penis, tasting him. He tensed and came and as his juices poured down in her mouth and down her throat. She drank the pleasure of his sex, sucking and licking. He tensed and sighed with pleasure and as his penis slowly deflated from the sweet release. She sucked the last of the juice. He removed his dick from her lips, leaning and kissing her lips. He thrust his tongue in her open mouth sucking, licking, and biting her lips as he played with her long tongue. She giggled with delight.

"Great fuck." Brad sweetly whispers, smiling and kissing her.

"Thanks." Nell smiled.

They flipped to the side and watched the action across the room. Queenie and King Henry pumped his dick in her vagina. She bent her knees in a doggie style pose as he moaned and groaned. Queenie smiled and giggled.

Brad moved and posed his nakedness behind her ass and pushed Nell's knees apart with his hands, spreading her hips for a doggie style fucking. He entered his tip, slowly gently surging forward for his penetration. She squealed with delight as he chuckled with pleasure. Brad pushed harder, deeper, and longer and as, his dick took over the thrusting, banging, and pounding with manly force and full strength in and out of her vagina. Nell sounded with a moan and screamed. "Fuck me." Brad chuckled, forcing his dick in and out in a faster rhyme. She hit her climax, feeling the heated explosions and nasty sensations cover her body as she shivered with lust and love. Brad quaked, keeping his dick fucking her in and out, until she screamed again. "Fuck me. Fuck me." Nell yelled and hit a second climax. He thrust in and out without stopping. She panted, snipping the air for oxygen.

He tensed, exhaling. "Gawd." His dick slowly deflated crinkling and he removed his treasure, turning and lying on his sweaty back muscles. She covered him with her sweaty body. He smiled in her face, wiping the sweat from her cheekbones. And they sweated on each other, giggling. "Good fuck," he whispered with a grin.

"Thanks." Nell smiled.

"Switch." King Henry stood from the bed, looking at Brad and Nell, yelling with a smile. Brad and Nell stared at each other and turned to see King Henry. King Henry trotted over to their bed naked with a super inflated dick. So, Nell was going to be fucked by King Henry in front of Brad. "Over there, girl!" King Henry pointed to the other bed. Nell slid off the bed in her birthday suit, prancing to Queenie's open arms. Queenie hugged Nell as they faced King Henry. Henry mounted Brad in a doggie position as Brad spread his legs and locked his knees. King Henry thrust his dick in his ass as Brad moaned. King Henry grunted. Nell's vagina quivered and enlarged as the gay men turned her sex juices on watching the male sex act.

Queenie pulled Nell to the bed. Nell was lying down on her back muscles. Queenie kissed Nell's breasts and massaged them roughly. But, Nell was interested in watching the gay guys dance. King Henry banged Brad for the fourth time as Brad sunk down to the mattress, sweating and moaning. King Henry sunk to his kneecaps on the mattress with a deflated dick. And they turned to see Queenie and Nell.

Queenie sat on her knees, grabbing the plastic dick and shoved it into Nell's vagina. Nell screamed with shock, pain, and pleasure. Queenie rocked it back and forth with her woman-force. Nell screamed again. Queenie pounded the dick in and out of Nell's pussy. Nell hit her climax, exploding with sex juices. Her body quivered and as, her mind exploded in both pain and pleasure sensations. She parted her legs. Queenie leaned down and sucked Nell's juices, licking Nell's vagina clean. Nell sounded with a groan of sinful lust and delight.

"Together." King Henry clapped, saying. King Henry and Brad moved to Nell's bed without any more words. Queenie was lying outstretched, covering the bed. King Henry placed Nell with her hands and her feet in a doggie position over Queenie's naked body. Nell grabbed a breast, playing with Queenie's nipples. King Henry posed Brad behind Nell's ass for a dog fucking.

Nell shifted her legs apart, locking her knees on the bed, readying for a new sex act with Brad.

King Henry sat on his knees between Queenie's face, placing his elongated dick in her mouth. Queenie groaned with lust.

Brad placed his dick in Nell's pussy. Nell moaned.

Queenie squeezed, released, and taunted Nell's breasts too making nasty sensations of pleasurably exotic raw ecstasy.

Brad was very gentle with his dick movements and moved tenderly in Nell's vagina, going deeper, longer, and softer and slowly removed his dick out of Nell for a thrilled excitement and anticipation of a climax. His dick was hard, waggling his tip, tickling her with delight.

Nell sounded with a groan. Queenie massaged Nell's breasts.

Brad pushed his dick in Nell's vagina.

Nell hit her climax, exploding into raw lustful ecstasy.

Brad hit his climax too.

King Henry hit his climax and burst in Queenie's mouth.

Queenie stopped playing with Nell's breasts, sucking the sweet sperm juice from King Henry's penis.

Then the four changed sex positions.

Brad fucked Queenie from behind her ass.

Nell sucked on King Henry's dick, playing with Queenie's breasts.

And then they fucked and hit their climax.

They shifted again.

Nell laid flat on the bed.

King Henry placed his dick inside Nell's mouth.

Queenie sucked on Nell's vagina.

Brad rubbed Nell's breasts his warm hands.

They all hit their climax and switched positions again.

King Henry butt fucked Nell in the ass.

Brad performed a finger-fucked motion into Nell's vagina.

Queenie kissed Nell's mouth and breasts.

They hit their climax.

They continued shifting and altering sex positions.

Brad fucked Nell's vagina in a doggie style sex.

Then King Henry butt fucked Brad. Then Queenie used her plastic dick to butt fuck King Henry. They all sounded with a moan and a groan during the last thrusting of dicks into open pussy holes.

Nell screamed. Brad moaned. King Henry grunted as Queenie shouted.

Then, they all fell over each other in the single bed, laughing, giggling, and farting.

King Henry sucked with his lips and his tongue on Queenie's vagina juice. Brad and Nell tenderly held each other in their twisted arms. As the night ended, they fell asleep on the bed, together.

Thursday January 4th

Boyer High School

8:08 a.m.

Classroom setting

Cold temperatures with partly cloudy sky

Nell awoke inside her own bedroom as Henrietta yelled out loud for the school bus.

Nell stepped off the school bus and ran into the open arms of Brad, who wore a smirk of lustful delight as she smiled with a blush to him. "Last night was..."

Brad held her hand, not being able to kiss her face in front of the adults, smiling with a nod. "Great, I loved all the fucking with you, Henry, and Queenie."

"You're a guy. You just want to fuck me, play sports, and eat." Nell said with a giggle.

He said with a nod, walking with her to the school building. "You know me already."

The sex ritual of Nell had increased with King Henry's dick fucks every night, except on the night of her Initiation. Then the group orgy prevailed with King Henry, Queenie, Brad, and Nell fucking each other, falling asleep on the bed. Nell was allowed to fuck Brad on Friday night, before the sports game, and after the sports game on Saturday night, as they dated not on Sunday night.

King Henry received his ritual fucking ritual time with Nell at midnight on both Friday and Saturday nights, because the man could fuck anytime, anywhere, and anyhow.

The night day, before third of January on the birth day of Nell, each girl received a rite of womanhood. She would be eighteen years old at midnight.
Next calendar year

Friday January 2nd

17 years. 11 months and 29 days old Nell Nan Hartmann

House of Henry Hartmann

Bedroom of Nell setting

3:03 p.m.

Cool temperatures with bright sunshine

After school, Nell came home. However, Henrietta was not inside the kitchen cooking or inside the bed drinking or inside the bathroom shitting. She was missing from the house. So, Nell fixed some supper and ate.

At six pm, King Henry came home not bothering to ask about his wife Henrietta either. He stood before Nell at the table, smiling with a nod. "You become a woman tonight." He pointed to her bedroom. "Stay in your room! Don't come out for nothing."

Nell frowned and stood, strolling to her bedroom without locking her door. There was not a lock on her door or a key that needed to unlock a missing latch. She undressed lying on top of her bed naked, getting fucked by King Henry or maybe Brad was the surprise instead. She giggled and dreamed about Brad like a regular teenager. Her bedroom door opened, and as the artificial over head lamps shined in her bedroom coming from the living room, shadowing the man in the archway. His elongated dick bounced up and down. Nell closed her eyelashes and heard the loud sounds inside the living room of King Henry's house, thinking it would had been nice to have a real birthday party for her real birthday with a real vanilla covered cake, a tub of chocolate ice cream, and a nice present not getting fucked and falling asleep tired.

The man moved from the archway and slammed the door shut with his naked foot, stumbling to the edge of her bed, grunting with lust. Nell opened her eyelashes and gasped, looking up to see Sick Matt at the edge of her bed. His assigned nicknamed, since he was drunk like a shrunk all the damn time. Sick Matt was going to fuck her and jumped onto the bed mattress, grabbing both her arms, holding them tight against her chest, and roughly kissed her lips. He smiled with bad stench of alcohol. "Fuck me, kid."

Nell screamed for help as he encircled both his arms around her naked chest and pulled her body into his face, kissing her again. Nell tasted the whiskey. He shoved Nell backwards onto the bed mattress, holding her down with his biceps, smashing her breasts with his body. Nell could not breathe. He used his legs and pushed her legs apart and injected his penis into her tight pussy. Nell screamed with fear and sobbed with tears of pain as he laughed. "Louder, kid." Sick Matt smiled and thrust harder, longer, and deeper in and out of her pussy. She screamed and struggled as he hit his climax, tensing and sighing with joy, falling down into her chest from his weakened state. She sobbed. He whispered into her breasts. "Good fuck, kid." Sick Matt removed his crinkled dick from her vagina, standing on his kneecaps, smiling into her face. He moved off her bed, moving his naked ass toward the archway, strutting out of her bedroom.

The door opened and as more noise echoed from the living room with cheers of male voices. The door closed shut. The door opened.

A different Matt-male from the city of Boyer appeared inside the door frame, and as the overhead lamp light blinded her eyeballs. He slammed the door shut and attacked Nell, fucking for his fun enjoyment.

The males came and went from her dark room every thirty minutes, appearing both drunk from alcohol and stoned on drugs, using their vulgar words, their rough hands, their fat or thin limbs, their tall and small body frames.

The fucking sex acts were short which had starting at seven o'clock. Nell had been fucked up, down, sideways, on the floor, on the bed, in a chair, and in the shower by numerous males, who were residents of Boyer, Florida. And one of them was her real...

She could not say it, much like think it. Nell walked outside her bedroom to piss inside the second bathroom, peeking down an empty hallway into the living room, seeing. All men. All naked. All drunk. All butt fucking each other. All dick sucking each other. Father Matt was sucking on the dick of King Henry. Nell gagged on her mouth spit and saw the white powdery cocaine over the dark wooden coffee table. However, King Henry couldn't afford cocaine.

Then she remembered. There was a medicine dispenser cart inside the Boyer Nursing Home for the medication of the nursing home patients. King Henry would have had knowledge about the drugs which he learned from Dr. Wingo, the asshole who had scarred Nell for life not being able to have her own baby. Nell turned away from the sick sight.

The males were snorting the old folk medications from the Boyer Nursing Home. This entire town was sick and disturbing both socially and mentally. She turned toward the bathroom, finished her business, and entered her room, lying in her bed to finish their business.

Last week, Brad had enlisted in the US military at eighteen years old. He quit and left the high school, wanting out of Boyer, Florida. He and Nell talked about their escape. He wanted her to come with him, after she graduated high school in May. Then they would be married and live in the foreign country of Germany. Nell could not leave King Henry, the school, the city, the state, or the USA without having a high school diploma.

Brad did not possess a diploma either, but received his high school equivalence test, and then entered the USA military. He told Nell to stay put in high school. He would return and get her on graduation day with her high school diploma. Then they would live a normal life, traveling around the world, while he was in the USA Military and raising their own biological children with love, except Nell did not have the courage to tell Brad about her permanent female problem.

Thus, Nell closed the eyelashes, gritted the teeth, and endured the rest of the fuckings.

11:45 p.m.

Bedroom of Nell setting

Nell was visited by Tiny Matt. He walked to the bed, leaning over and kissing her lips. She opened her eyelashes. No male had bothered to kiss her face, but one other. No one had wanted an oral fuck, only a vagina fuck. No blow job either. Since the males were blowing each other dicks inside the living room both drunk and stoned underneath the full moon. Tiny Matt smiled at her. She looked down at his penis, almost laughing, understanding his nickname, tiny. His dick was two inches long, if that. She held her snicker as he noticed. He climbed over her and rammed his tiny sucker into her stretched pussy, thrusting up and down. Nell did not feel anything. He continued to move up and down and grunted with lust, tensing and finishing his business. She did not climax. He sat back on his kneecaps, saying with a smile. "Good fuck, kid." Nell stared at his tiny dick as he said with a nod. "Remember that, kid!"

11:55 p.m.

The single most important piece of secret fucking information, Nell had gathered from her legitimate half-sisters was that the womanhood rite ended at midnight. At midnight, she turned eighteen years old.

If another male tried to fuck her at eighteen years old, then she would tattle to Sheriff Matt, like he would know the difference. However, Nell had not seen him inside the living room, since Sheriff Matt was new at his police job, replacing his father, who died last week. If Nell could tell a nice honest lawyer about this sick social ritual, then the entire town would go to jail or to hell or to somewhere.

The door swung open with one more fuck. The male entered her bedroom with the loud party noise in the back ground and the smell of whiskey. The door closed. He strutted in nakedness towards Nell and wore a bright smile. Bull Matt and his dick both waved to her also. His dick was long, round, primed, and wet, bowing up and down on his tall muscular frame. His body leaned over the bed, not touching her. He grabbed her legs and flipped Nell onto her stomach, raising her ass in the air. He spread her legs and locked his hands around her ankles, crawling his kneecaps over the bed mattress. He lined up his dick even with her pussy, slowly easing his dick tip into the edge of her clitoris, gently rubbing his wet slick tip up and down and wetting her vagina lip. She closed her eyelashes and sounded with a moan. He pressed his strength into her ankles, not letting her waiver, rubbing his tip up and down moving it slowly inside her pussy. She sounded with a groan. His tip entered. She softly whispered. "So good!" He sunk his tip slowly inside and stopped. Then, he quickly removed his tip out of her pussy. She sounded with a groan. He slowly sunk his tip an inch into her vagina and stopped. He removed his dick tip.

She sounded with a moan, feeling both the tease and the torture. He slowly sunk two inches of his dick tip into her wet pussy. She sounded with a groan of both pleasure and pain. He removed his dick. "Gawd!" Nell yelled. He chuckled, slowly sinking three inches of his dick into her pussy as her juices dripped on his dick, her legs, and the bed sheets. She sounded with a groan of both pleasure and pain. He stopped and pulled out his warm dick, moving away from her vagina as the cold air tickled her pussy. "Fuck me!" She yelled. He chuckled and eased four inches of his dick inside her. She sounded with a moan, and yelled. "Fuck me!" He stopped not thrusting or yanking out his dick. She yelled. "Fuck me." She shifted both her knees and legs back and forth, simulating a fucking motion inside her pussy using his stationary dick.

He held both her ankles and calves tight, not thrusting inside her pussy, and not allowing her to thrust back and forth either. "Fuck me, your bastard." She yelled out loud. He chuckled and withdrew his dick from her vagina. "Gawd! Fuck me." She yelled. He chuckled and slowly slipped five inches of his dick inside her. She sounded with a groan of pleasure, trying to thrust her vagina in and out with his dick inside. He withdrew his dick from her pussy, chuckling with an evil smirk. "Ah!" Nell screamed in frustration, slamming the bed linens with her hand. He thrust his full dick into her pussy, creating both pain and pleasure for both her and him. She screamed in pleasure. "Ah!" He banged in and out, hearing her screams, fucking her over and over again. Then he stopped, hitting his climax. She hit her climax coming with erotic pleasure, dropping her face and body onto the bed sheets with total exhaustion.

He eased his penis from her pussy and leaned into her eardrum, whispering with a smile. "Henry's right. You're the best whore in town." He moved off the bed mattress and left her room. Then, she fell asleep.

Saturday January 3rd

Eighteen years old Nell Nan Hartmann

8:01 a.m.

House location of Henry Hartmann

Bedroom setting of Nell

Cold temperatures with partly cloudy

Happy birthday, Nell!

Eighteen years old, she awoke to an empty bedroom and the morning sunshine from the window.

The door opened.

King Henry moved to her bed and flung off her bed covers, exposing her naked body, shouting in angry. "Get out!"

"What?" Nell grabbed and pulled the bed covers over her nakedness, being eighteen years old and legal rape, if attempted.

"Time for you to leave." He said with a sneer and pointed to the window.

Nell smiled with a nod. "I'm getting married." King Henry was not her pa, but he did take care of her providing food, shelter, school, and clothes in her previous eighteen years. He could wait a little longer, until she graduated high school in five more months.

And then Nell would be gone from Boyer with Brad.

"Brad's dead. Get his ass wiped out from a raid over there in Germany. Blown to bits by an enemy bomb." Henry dropped a paper telegram to her bed as Nell caught it and read. Henry said with a growl. "No body. No fucking funeral. Brad's a traitor to us here in Boyer. So Brad got his gawd damn desserts." Henry laughed.

Nell completely understood that they did not you to live a fucking normal life. They wanted you to be a whore for the rest of the males in this damn small community of Boyer, Florida. Every girl's dream, a Boyer whore. Every boy's dream, a Boyer gigolo. Not Nell, she wanted to leave Boyer, Florida forever. She and Brad had plans and planned to leave, getting married, having children, and living far away from Boyer, Florida.

Henry exhaled with a huff, saying with a sad frown to her. "Listen, kid! Ya have to leave. Can't stay. Move to Pensacola, get a job or something."

Nell said with a nod. "I'm a Hartmann..."

"You're a whore. That's all your good for whore. W.h.o.r.e. Ya damaged too. No kids. I fuck girls for years. Know what blooding time is. Ya bleed for one day then stop." Henry knew about her missed periods, since he liked to fuck during her monthly menstruations. Nell had been fucked every day, since she was fifteen years old. Henry said with a sneer to her. "Stupid whore, that means ya can't have kids. Eggs are damaged. No children. Ya a pretty whore and no good to us here. Kids? We need kids to continue our Boyer tradition. Get out! Go find another guy to fuck! He'll take care of you..." Henry reached for her pretty face as she whipped her face from his advancing hand. He sounded with a grunt and withdrew his hand, turning and leaving her bedroom. The door closed.

Nell sobbed with tears of her tragic reality. Brad was dead. King Henry wanted her out. Henrietta, her fake ma, could not help either. The new Sheriff Matt was a decent guy and might be able to help Nell, since no other Hartmann would in the town of Boyer.

She slowly moved off the bed and changed into her jeans, stuffing items into a small pink colored bag, not owning worldly possessions. She looked the few sporting trophies and several academic certificates of honor from her high school. However, Nell did not give a shit about her high school or her Boyer half-sisters or her half-brothers. She was smarter than the shitty whoring girls here, being a cheerleader, popular, making good grades. She would leave Boyer, go to college, and make something better for herself than a Boyer whore.

Nell unzipped the bag, seeing the real USA military identification badge that Brad had given her, before he left on the bus, in case, an emergency. She sobbed with more tears, knowing that Brad had given this, in case, something went wrong in Boyer and for Nell to run away and fly to Germany to be with him, understanding that Brad really loved and cared for her. Nell finished packing her personal possessions, grabbing the small stash of money from Brad and the USA military identification badge. She moved out of her bedroom and into the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, Henrietta hummed and smiled, singing and cleaning over and over again the same spot on the kitchen counters, and drank her sweet iced tea. The sweet tea was spiked with ten percent water and ninety percent whiskey.

Nell said with a fake smile to her non-biological parent, "Ma."

"Kid." Henrietta turned with a smile and a giggle to see Nell. Her ma always called Nell the marked nickname kid, since Henrietta could not remember the real name of her non-biological daughter. Henrietta was buzzed with alcohol or stoned with marijuana all the hours of day and night by her husband King Henry. Nell was not Henrietta real biological daughter either. However, Henrietta knew the truth medical fact as baby Nell was carried out of the hospital, but Henrietta had cared and loved Nell for almost eighteen years, like a real mother. Nell held back the sob and the tears, until she could leave her old home. Henrietta sipped on the tea, smiling with a giggle, cleaning the same spot on the kitchen counter. "Getting hitched to Brad. He be a good boy, kid. Ya moving to Germany. Henry says. Miss ya, kid! Ya goings to be in a nice place, kid," she looked up with her smile to see Nell.

Nell nodded, understanding that the Boyer men ran this gawddamn town with Henry as the fucking king pimp. She walked to her ma, hugging and pretending the lie. "Yeah! I'm going to a nice place. I promise to write ya, Ma." She pulled back and faked a smile to Henrietta.

Henrietta smiled with a nod. "You be my good angel, kid."

Nell nodded in silence, slowly turning and moving to the front door, not seeing King Henry. He was probably inside his office and watched her from across the street. She gently shut the front door of her former home, walking down the brick steps, seeing the dirty window pane of her old bedroom, her old house, and her old life, for the one last time. She whispered with a sneer. "Good bye, fucking assholes." She slowly strolled in her new pink colored sneakers and her new pink fake fur ankle-length weather coat down Florida Avenue, passing the graveyard, the church, the high school, and the city hall into the center of Boyer, standing at the bus stop sign.

The local city passenger bus into the small town of Cantonment ran every thirty minutes and then went into the big city of Pensacola for shoppers or visitors. The bus stop was across the street from the Boyer general store, where she and Brad had raced inside to purchase a couple of cold sodas, before the horse shit bombarded their nostrils. She giggled with a happy memory, and then sobbed with tears of her new memory.

The bus arrived. Nell paid the exact fare, sitting and traveling inside the first bus into the major hub in the city of Cantonment. She switched into a second bus and rode into the city Pensacola, purchasing a bus ticket, riding a third bus to the Warrington USA military base. Riding inside the bus, Nell sobbed with her mixed emotions of both leaving and escaping the abandonment of her family members.

At the Warrington USA military base, Nell explained that she was the widower of Brad Hartmann, showing a real USA military identification which contained her real name Nell Hartmann being a Hartmann too. The military solider believed her fairy tale, smiling with a nod being nice and kind too. He arranged for Nell to seat on the next big transport military plane and arrive in the country of Germany, leaving the USA, the state of Florida, and the city of Boyer forever. She wrapped a blanket around her body and dreamed of getting an education, making real money, and taking care of her. No one else was going to do for her. So, Nell would plan her own way to paradise or to hell.
Tuesday January 5th

Country of Germany

USA military base

Apartment of Nell kitchen setting

7:17 p.m.

Cold temperatures with clouds

Colder and wetter than the warm and humid shores of the coastline of USA Florida, Nell immediately hated the country of Germany. She was a military widower who received a lump sum cash payment of $5,893.41, after the USA taxes, of course. And she received the use of a free apartment for six months until tossed out on her ass, of course. She was given a job at military grocery store. Nell worked seven o'clock to seven o'clock during the day and sometimes in the afternoon, collecting overtime while standing all day on her feet. She got a lousy fifteen-minute break in the morning and the afternoon and a short thirty-minute period for eating her lunch. Or she did not get paid her USA dollars. Her working shift sometimes rotated around the weekends of both Saturday and Sunday for working an eight-hour day and needing the damn money. Reality truly sucked!

Nell returned home to her small apartment every evening, checking the mail, eating a light meal, before bath time, and finally bedtime, preparing for the next day.

Today, she pulled a letter from the mailbox coming from the USA and saw the name Henrietta Hartmann, feeling excitement with the prospect of going back home to home town of Boyer, ripping open the envelope lip, and read silently. Henrietta wrote how happy she was that Nell was married to nice boy Brad, since King Henry had lied about the death of Brad and continued to feed her Ma more booze and drugs into the dreamy mind of wife. Nell sobbed with the understanding that Henrietta never would know the real truth about her only daughter, never would ever go back home to Boyer, Florida. The letter stated that Henrietta was losing her fatty body pounds, eating properly, not drinking her sweet tea, and exercised daily. Nell smiled that Henrietta was both happy and healthy, the only parent...person, who loved her unconditionally out of the entire town of 166 Boyerians. Henrietta also mysteriously wrote that King Henry had recruited more old farts for his nursing home business, making lots of money for them. And Henry was happy too.

Nell placed the letter on the kitchen counter and dove into her food, kicking off her dirty sneakers, thinking about writing a letter back to Henrietta, and decided that was not a wise idea. Nell would have had to create more awful lies about a happy marriage with a dead Brad, making her sob with tears, not finishing her meal, since her shitty life was a demon tale, not an angel song.

Monday January 18th

USA military base

Research laboratory setting

12:02 p.m.

Cold temperatures with partly sunny

The USA research laboratory consisted of three tall slender buildings across the street from military grocery store. Inside one of the laboratory offices, Nell spread the tuna fish with mayonnaise over the white bread on top of the office work table for Ira and thought about it too late, shifting a stack of work paper and the work laptop away from the smelly food. She ate her turkey sandwich, passionately hating tuna and fish guts, chewing and smiling at him during their quick lunch, before she was required to clock back into work. She stood, chewed, and moved to the transparent caged glass container, tapping on the window at the active pale yellow colored scorpion. "Hey, kid!"

"Deathstalker."

Nell turned and smiles at Ira. "Ain't we being too pessimistic, kid?"

Ira chewed and swallowed his food. "The anaroid is called a Leiurus quinquestriatus and is known as the deathstalker scorpion, which holds the key ingredient of my super-secret research. He is the villain and they are the heroes," he pointed to a second glass tank, where a group of tiny gray colored trimmed furry bodies and pink colored noses mice sounded in tiny squeaks. Nell two-stepped to the second glass and tapped her trimmed fingernails on the window as Ira chewed and mouth spat more food over his sandwich and the table surface. "The deathstalker is a species of scorpion and a member of the Buthidae family." Nell passionately hated Ira as he boasted with his brain, spitting out his educated knowledge in both science and math during his lecture, since she had a couple of sore kneecaps, a pair of blistered feet pads, and two bruised elbows working as a lowly busy cashier. Ira chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "The anaroid is passionately known as the Palestine yellow scorpion or Omdurman scorpion or Israeli desert scorpion which is brightly colored in straw yellow or lime green. It grows to 4.5 inches in length which is tiny in comparison to the other types of scorpions with a long thin tail and slender pedipalps. The creature is found in the desert and scrubland habitats, ranging from North Africa to Middle East continuants, and also lives inside the country Israel, my native country." He wiped his mouth, standing and moving toward the second glass tank beside Nell. He slapped on a pair of work laboratory gloves and lifted one of the tiny mice in the air, stabbing a tiny needle into its wiggling body, replacing it with the other mice into the crowded tank. He said with a nod. "Tomorrow, I will examine my laboratory results which will cure cancer. All cancers of entire world, I am going to wipe them all out. People will be happy and healthy, rejoicing my name and rewarding me lots of money. The key ingredient is the venom of the Deathstalker." He pointed at the first glass tank with a live scorpion.

Nell said with a sour frown to the tank of mice. "I thought all venom was poisonous to humans."

Ira swung around and removed the dirty gloves, moving back and sat down while eating the food. "To address your southern redneck improper high school education, your answer is wrong, as usual. All known scorpion species possess venom, which is used primarily to kill or to paralyze their prey, so it can be eaten. The toxin is fast acting for an effective capture. The toxin is also used as a defense mechanism against any advancing predators. Its venom is a mixture of compounds, including neurotoxins, enzyme inhibitors, and other scientific things you would not understand, redneck Nell. The combination of molecules provides a single potent toxin which results in a different effect on each different type of targeted prey by the deathstalker."

Nell stared with a sad frown at the tank of mice. "So, the toxin acts or reacts differently within each chemical makeup of the capture animal." She spun around and moved back towards the office table, sitting with Ira.

Ira chewed and swallowed the food, saying with a nod to Nell. "Amazing for a pretty southern belle, you got it right. That's the benefit of the toxin. The compound is very complex, which was made and stored inside their paired glandular sacs, and then is released in a quantity mixture regulated by the scorpion."

"So, the dangerous scorpion figures how much dosage to dose its enemy, killing it dead." Nell chuckled with the right answer, biting into the turkey sandwich, looking up at the clock on the wall for her limited lunch time.

Ira said with a sour frown to her. "I would not use such an elementary childish term, but you are closely correct. That concept has intrigued scientists throughout the world, experimenting with the multi-usage of complex compounded proteins of the scorpion. To breakdown my brilliant PhD science work from your poor American high school mind, you cannot use any old scorpion from any old woodlands nearby any old apartment or from any old desert. Of all the thousands known species of the scorpion only twenty-five carry that particular venom both dangerous to humans and curable for human cancer cells, it is the deathstalker, that's the purpose of the nickname." Ira chuckled. "The scorpion toxin is a protein, which can be manipulated into a serum. The chain of scorpion toxins constitutes potassium blocking peptides. The peptides are an important physiological role in maintaining the electrical gradients of ions that control the T-cell proliferation. The blockers have the potential for immo-suppressants for the treatment of autoimmune disorders, such as, rheumatoid arthritis, inflammatory bowel disease, and multiple sclerosis." Nell ate and listened to Ira as he said. "It is too complex for your simple hillbilly Alabama country mind, since I am a genius, I work to understand how to break down the blockers by adding a natural ingredient to fight off the dying cells in all types of oncology cancer patients." He looked down at the mobile telephone. "The Deathstalker scorpion natural protein is called chlorotoxin, a 36-amino acid peptide found in the venom. The chlorotoxin binds to the glioma cells, allowing the development of new methods for treatment of cancer. Chlorotoxin is a protein. The scorpion toxin is a protein, not a poison. And I am adding to the protein salt. Common table salt is mixed with the scorpion protein to create my cure for all cancers on everyone person in the world."

Nell raised the salt shaker with a giggle. "Table salt, you mean this here salt shaker."

Ira said. "Common table salt has no health benefit, being bleached, chemically treated, and then dried at more than 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit. This process makes common table salt, which is 99 percent sodium chloride. One of 84 trace elements in salt, which triggers life in the human biological body, where the granules do not clump together and provides the necessary proteins for digesting food in the organ, particularly the stomach is unrefined salt. All living animals need salt. One benefit of the unrefined crystals is that it replenishes human electrolytes. Then the human electrolytes are electrically charged, a major factor in powering up our chemical bodies."

"Water is important also." Nell said with a smile and a nod and finished her sandwich.

Ira shook a skull. "You are wrong, as usual. You do not understand my doctoral work with your simple Alabama thinking. Water, alone, cannot activate the electrical currents in the human body. The unrefined salt has 84 ionic minerals that are used and absorbed naturally into your body. The scorpion protein soaks in all 84 minerals from its protein salt. Once the body consumes my new formula, the new compound releases all 84 trace elements and numerous nutrients into the unwell body to help and to repair the weaken or damaged cells.

"Repair, in this instance, means any human body will heal completely from any cancer cells attack. In my smaller and successful experiments, some of the mice have returned to its optimal pH balance. The mice exhibited a normal heartbeat, no muscle cramps, improved firmness in the bones, a normal blood sugar level, as well as, the submission of duplicating cancer cells, thus creating bunches of healthy living and productive white cells for the little mouse body into a re-new self of healthy organism. If I have calculated the formula correctly, I will be both famous and rich." He laughed, rolling the paper bag and used food items into a ball, pitching it into the garage can. He stood and moved to the tank, slipping on a pair of protective work gloves, grabbing and lifting the scorpion up to his face. "If I live long enough to see all that fabulous money, the deathstalker has to be alive and healthy for me to extract the vital rich protein fresh from its little stinging body part. The protein does not go stale like a loaf of white bread, if left outside the refrigerator in the southern humidity." Ira turned with a sour frown to see Nell. "By the way, Nell, I keep reminding you to store my white bread in the cool place called the pantry. I buy it. I eat it. I want it fresh, not dry." Nell nodded in silence as Ira dropped and released the scorpion back down into the enclosed tank with a sour frown. "Not stale, but ineffective, if the rich protein loses its potency, then it punches much like a dead spider. If the creature is barely hanging onto life, the rich protein is valid for a quickie treatment, but most of the protein would be integrity compromised." Ira swung around to see Nell with a nod and a smile. "I can see the befuddled look in your baby blue eyes. If the subject has received a mutated dosage of rich protein, then the outcome will probably be a painful suffocation. The sensitive toxin has to be absolutely positively measured accurately. Too much of the dose, the subject dies deader than a door knob," laughing.

"Are there any visual signs of death on the body? I know that suffocation is the result of strangulation to the throat, leaving human finger prints." Nell smiled with a nod.

Ira said with a sour tone. "I do not understand your convoluted question, Nell. But you are incorrect, as usual. Medically, the act of suffocation is to suffer from the lack of oxygen intake inside the body, not being able to breathe. You can chock to death and it is stilled called suffocation. In my Frankenstein created laboratory here, the blood is contaminated with the scorpion toxins and then the subject is poisoned and becomes paralyzed instantly. The victim cannot call for medical help or nurse aid. Firstly, the liver will absorb the entire salt compound scorpion toxin into the bile of the human liver. The subject will die a quick violent dead without the chance of any life-saving quick-handed clinical treatment. Secondly, a medical physician will have much difficulty in both time and diagnosis trying to trace the toxin, since it is absorbed directly from the scorpion protein that I have newly created." He laughed with a nod, swinging around, lifting and stabbing the tiny needle of the salt compound scorpion toxin into the tiny mouse and replaced it inside the tank. "An excellent weapon of death instantaneously...

"A perfect angel of death," Nell whispered with a wicked grin.

Wednesday February 24th

USA military base

Research laboratory setting

12:08 p.m.

Cold temperatures with partly sunny

Nell washed and cleaned her face and her hands from the white gooey creamy sweet roll, admiring the new dye job of rich black colored hair, recalling that Ira said only whores possessed blonde hair strands in his native country like her. She wiped her hands on the cloth, leaving the bathroom, entering his private laboratory office work space. Wearing the protective safety equipment, a pair of rubber gloves and a N95 breathing mask, Ira sliced each tiny furry stomach of the dead mice with a sharp knife. Nell pulled up beside Ira without wearing a pair of protective safety gear, touching her new colored hair, asking with a nod. "Ira, do you like my new hair? I am black colored like yours. We're twins now," giggling. "You mentioned that you didn't like blondes. I'm not blonde anymore. So I did this for..."

Ira looked down at the mouse, whispering with a disappointing frown. "Not true! The liver is yellow colored with starry crystallization pus covering the organ. I expected the liver to be first, pink colored and second, enlarged to absorb all the toxins from the mouse chemistry. Based on my acute visualization, without running any long lab tests, the mice appeared to have died by absorbing too much of the scorpion toxin. Hmm! The dosage was too strong for its tiny liver organ." Ira ripped out each organ, starting with the lungs, the heart, the stomach, and the liver from the dead mice, placing each organ into a set of individual tiny laboratory dishes for his full medical examination. He exhaled with a huff, looking over the dead mice parts. "Back to the drawing board!"

Friday February 26th

Apartment of Ira kitchen setting

5:34 p.m.

Cold temperatures with partly cloudy

Henrietta continued to write each week one letter to Nell, talking about the latest Boyer news, consisting of marriages, babies, deaths, and the biggest fucking blow-your-dick surprise. Katt was the little innocent Indian princess, who was a native Boyer citizen, not Boyer whore. She lived with her over protective guardian named Dokey, after the biological parents of Katt died of some type of mysterious disease. The new letter told that Katt was being adopted by King Henry. Katt would be moving into his house, staying inside the bedroom of Nell, once Katt turned seventeen years old birthday on the third of March.

Nell understood too well, slamming a fist on top of the kitchen counter, shaking the curls. Now, this was the reason that Nell had to leave her bedroom, her ma, her home, her city, her state, and her country for the foreign country of Germany, inking out a shitty life as a shitty cashier with shitty Ira and having no parents and no monies for food and shelter. Katt was replacing Nell as King Henry's future virgin whore, since Dokey was dying of cancer. Nell sobbed with tears of sadness and disappointment, pressing her hands into her face.

The dog leaped off the sofa and jumped into the dining table chair, snatching the guts of the dead mouse from dining room table surface. The dog dropped down to the floor and ate the mouse meat.

Nell turned with sobs to see the pretty white poodle and passionately hated that damn dog, recalling the puppy required water, food, time, and love from Ira. The dog received more love from Ira than Nell. She exhaled with a growl at the damn dog.

Ira slammed the front door closed and strolled into the kitchen, exhaling with a grunt in disappointment. He moved and stood, jerking the refrigerator door open, lifting an individual item for dinner. He appeared tired, angry, and hungry from working long hours at the USA research laboratory, reaching out and grabbed the white bread and felt the stiffness not the freshness, turning a growl to see Nell. "Stale! The bread's stale again."

Nell rubbed away the tears and folded the letter, hiding it inside her jeans, saying with a sad frown to Ira, "Sorry! Forgot!"

Last month

Friday January 15th

USA military base

Grocery store setting

Cold temperatures with partly sunny

Ira had grabbed a six pack of beer and walked to the cashier counter, discovering that he lacked the remaining cash of $1.37 from his wallet and did not possess his work badge either. Cashier Nell had covered the cash at the store register and allowed Ira to buy the beer illegally. He had winked and she had winked back. Then, they had met and talked over dinner and fucked inside his apartment.

Ira was not a handsome man like King Henry, but he was smart with a doctoral in toxicology, studying both viruses and germs. He worked as a researcher at the USA research cancer laboratory for the USA military in the country of Germany. Nell enjoyed reading and studying all his medical textbooks about science and math, since she did not work as a cashier anymore. She used her free time to clean his little apartment, shop for his food, and study his medical reference books. When Ira came home, Nell would indulge his IQ, asking her smart science questions about his top secret project, which could cure all people with cancer, using his new scorpion serum. She had learned that scorpions benefited and helped sick people all over the world. If Ira could extract the venom from the deathstalker scorpion plus add the common table salt, he would create a new secret formula which could save millions of cancer patients and make him billionaires of dollars, since Ira was smart, nice, and kind to Nell too.

Friday February 26th

Apartment of Ira kitchen setting

5:39 p.m.

Nell rubbed away the tears and folded the letter, hiding inside her jeans, saying with a sad frown to Ira. "Sorry! Forgot!" She squatted down and picked up the whiny puppy, hugging it.

Ira exhaled with a huff, moving and patting the dog too with a sad face. "My funding has been cut and my assignment is going to be shortened. If I'm lucky, I'll receive a full two more months, but that's all. I need to make one single great impression with my cancer breakthrough to the Americans before I...we are forced out of my desk, my office, my life's time work. I cannot experiment on humans yet. That's against the International Humanity Research Law except on small mammals, such as, monkeys, cats, rats, or sometimes cows." He smiled to Nell. "Hey. Let's go out to eat tonight, Nell. I'll tell about my latest experiment." She nodded in silence and placed the whining puppy on the floor. They turned and left the apartment, holding hands and whispering into each other eardrums.

Monday February 29th

Apartment of Ira kitchen setting

3:03 p.m.

Cold temperatures and cloudy

Ira slammed the door shut, yelling in angry. "I'm toast, as they say. The Americans shut me down. I'm out the door and back to my own country." He slapped the paper bag on top of the kitchen counter, exhaling with a huff. "My USA dollars are here. My travel passport is here. I'm out of here," he squatted down on the floor, waving both hands with a smile to the dog. "Fife. Come here, girl. Fife. We're going back home to..." Nell dropped open and closed the mouth, hearing the bad news, pondering her delicate dilemma as an unemployed American citizen not on a military base. Ira crawled ahead over the floor towards the dog that was lying on its side in the corner wall of the room, saying with a sad frown. "What's wrong with Fife?" He reached out and touched the still puppy, patting her soft curly hair. The dog slept soundly on its side with its closed eyelids and a hanging pink colored tongue from its parted lips, not licking or yelping with happiness to see Ira. He rubbed the dog with a confused frown. "She's not responding to my commands. She was drooling out mouth spittle of a pasty white liquid all over the floor. She looks sick to me," he back pedaled and snapped the fingers with a worried brow to the dog, "Fife! Come here to me, girl!" Ira shuffled ahead towards the dog, examining the body with a pair of trained medical eyes. "Fife is exhibiting the same clinical presentation as my test mice inside my lab. That is not at all impossible." He stood upright from the floor and went to the utensil drawer in the kitchen, noticing the open scorpion test kit. The scorpion kit contained several sets of the live contaminated samples that from some of the dead mice guts, consisting of its heart, its liver, and its lungs. The second item inside the test kit was a sample of the live toxin juice from the deathstalker scorpion.

Ira pointed down with a growl at the scorpion test kit tray, which had been stolen by him coming out from his laboratory for his future cancer research, after he had returned to his native home and yelled out loud with shock. "This is my scorpion toxin experiment. The scorpion kit is open and has been exposed to the environmental elements of this room and somehow the elements have contaminated Fife," he turned to see the dog and pulled out a steak knife from the knife rack. He back stepped from the counter and went to the dog and squatted down, slicing open the abdomen of the dog, seeing a shiny yellow crystallized liver, much like, every single dead mouse inside his research laboratory. He cut out the yellow colored glittering liver from Fife and stood, turning to see Nell, as some of the starry yellow flakes fell to the floor. Nell slowly turned to see Ira and carefully back stepped from the male, his yellow starry organ, and his steak knife. He said with a growl, holding the knife and the liver with a laugh. "You're not going to die, stupid." Nell frowned. Ira said with a nod and a grin. "The liver is the garage can of the human body. A healthy liver flushes all poison and toxins from our biological body, even inside a dog. I'm fine holding her contaminated liver. But Fife died when you carelessly opened my scorpion kit tray and exposed the contaminated mouse organ samples. Fife smelled and found the meat and then ate it. You die, if the scorpion toxin is injected or absorbed into the epidermis skin, bypassing the soft tissues, the blood cells, and the bones. It drains directly into the liver, where it is absorbed without leaving any visual trace element of death on a human." Ira raised the steak knife, saying with a growl. "But now, you are going to pay for Fife's death, bitch." She reached out and grabbed the syringe from the scorpion kit box, bravely defending her person in silence.

Ira advanced to Nell and sliced the steak knife up and down in the air waves. Nell turned and jerked to the left as Ira hit the kitchen counter. Nell lunged and stabbed his neck, shoving the needle down into his skin as the scorpion toxin quickly drained into his neck vein. Ira jerked backwards from the counter in shock. She pulled away and yanked the needle out from his neck, staring at his red colored blood on the needle. He exhaled with a huff, looking up with a sneer to see her. "You're dead, bitch. I'm going to kill you now." Nell paced backward from him and hit the solid wall, readying to escape out the apartment archway on her right. Ira stumbled backward and hit the bottom kitchen cabinet instead of lunging at Nell, sliding down the wall, landing on his ass in a sitting position with the knife in a left hand and the starry liver in his right hand. His face turned into a bright pink color then a ghost white color and then a light blue color with heavy breathing. His breathes sounded light and shallow and finally stopped, dropping the yellow colored glittering liver to the floor, grabbing his chest with a heart attack. He did not move. She did not move. He stared with his open eyelids at her. She stared with her open eyelashes at him.

The central heater sounded with a thump and warmed the cold room as Nell jumped from the loud noise and stared with a worried brow down at dead Ira. Nell looked around to the kitchen space seeing only her and him. She exhaled with a puff of nervousness, pondering her science theory which was banging against her emotional state of mind. She had read all of his laboratory notebooks, watching him dissect the dead mice, witnessing the dead dog. Ira was clearly dead too. She moved ahead towards him and pushed his body flat down onto the floor, jerking the steak knife from his cupped hand. Nell torn and sliced open his shirt, exposing his fat belly, placing the sharp knife over the region of his liver with a soft sneer and a wicked grin.
Thursday March 3rd

City of Boyer in US State of Florida

Rental house of Kattleen Kattrell

Front porch setting

9:03 a.m.

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

Nell left the cold country of Germany, the nasty boyfriend, and the dead body all behind, possessing a live scorpion, the stolen toxin kit, and the upcoming payback plan. She watched the Boyer police car park at the rental house which belonged to King Henry. Nell mentally could not erase that name from her brain washing for the past three months, living away his house. She recalled every person, every place, and every penis in the small town of Boyer.

Her car rental sat in a bumpy ditch between a paved street and a crop wheat field, and as Nell dropped the window and smelled the horseshit, hitting her nostrils. She said with a giggle. "Welcome back home, kid."

The female stood between Mr. Moore and Sheriff Matt on the front porch. Katt was a skinny and petite female with a head of long black colored hair and a tone dark colored tinted skin and was not pregnant. The last letter to Nell in Germany from Henrietta in Boyer stated that Katt was pregnant with a child and this had justified the weird social behavior of King Henry, wishing and wanting Katt to live inside his house. The letter also had prompted a social depression in Henrietta too, drinking her sweet tea and burning the potted marijuana plant again.

Katt slid down into the rear seat of the police car without a set of handcuffs for an arrest of something. The police car turned and traveled away from the rental house, going south.

Nell started her rental car and followed. The police car glided down the highway, leaving Boyer and finally arrived at the Pensacola Airport terminal. The car stopped in front of the building, letting Katt out of the rear seat. Katt held a small travel bag, turned and waved with a hand and a smile to Sheriff Matt, swinging and entering the airport terminal to leave the city of Pensacola.

Nell parked her rental car into an empty spot, watched, and gasped with shock. Katt was leaving, fleeing, and escaping from the city of Boyer with the help of young Matt, the new sheriff of Boyer. Old Sheriff Matt had died three months ago per one of the letters from Henrietta, probably fucking another teenager girl during her womanhood ritual. He was an obese, obnoxious, and overbearing son of bitch serving as the sheriff over the small farm community. There was not much crime or criminal in Boyer, since all the residents spent all their time fucking each other. No time to rob or murder or steal.

Nell laughed being mentally sick like the other 166 citizens of Boyer, excluding the snobby librarian Mrs. Oldford. Mrs. Oldford had helped Katt receive a Florida high school diploma per one of the letters from Henrietta also. Nell moved out from the car, running inside the terminal, searching for Katt. She spotted the coordinated baby blue shorts with a pair of matching shoes, Katt's favorite color. She walked to the magazine stand, buying a cup of coffee, browsing the new books. Nell waited and watched Katt, who purchased an airfare ticket and moved to the airport gate. She could not follow and spy on Katt due to airport security, running back into the lobby, purchasing a ticket to Tampa, Florida inside the shortest line and rushed through the airport security x-ray machine.

Nell nodded with a smile, leaving the bag which contained a package of hypo needles and a vial of the fresh scorpion venom inside the trunk of the rental car.

She marched down the crowded aisle without her weapon, looking at the corridor, the bathrooms, and the food joints for Katt and then spotted her.

Katt sat inside the chair and waited on a direct non-stop one-way trip to Miami, Florida, escaping into South Florida which was filled with the different cultures of people and foreigners, an easy cover up for the new life of Katt.

Nell decided that she would never find Katt in the heavily populated city of Miami, tomorrow, rushing to Miami airline clerk counter, exchanging her Tampa ticket for one going to Miami, using her USA military ID, a bundle of cash, and a new fairy tale of a dying relative.

And then the air flight boarding call sounded with a ding.

City of Miami in US State of Florida (683 miles south from Boyer)

Airplane ride of Katt and Nell

11:11 a.m.

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

Nell entered the plane, sitting in the last row, standing and spying on Katt from her airplane seat. Katt opened and closed the window treatment, played with the music recorder on the seat, slept inside a wrapped blanket, read her magazine and ate the snacks, being clueless about everything. The airport landed.

Nell strolled by the luggage carrier like a tourist, hitting the ninety plus degrees and humid weather as her sweat balls drained down her neck, forehead, earlobes, and shoulders in the Miami heat. Katt nervously stood by the taxi driver of a white cab and showed him the map.

Nell jumped into the third taxi, pointing at the first taxi. "Follow the white taxi." She dropped the one-hundred-dollar bill on the front seat, laughing. "Another identical wad, when it stops and I'm behind her, if you can keep up."

City of South Miami (five miles from Miami Airport)

Charity South Miami Hospital

Lobby setting

1:01 p.m.

The white taxi sped out the airport, down the highway, and turned into a parking lot of Charity South Miami Hospital. Katt paid the cabbie and disappeared through the door.

Nell tossed another one-hundred-dollar bill to her driver and exited into the hot weather, entering the same door of the hospital lobby, spotting Katt at the information desk. One of the letters from Henrietta stated that Dokey had died. She shook her curls with confusion, looking around the lobby, seeing people who were talking, crying, eating, and reading.

Katt smiled and back stepped from the desk, sitting in a chair, holding a set of papers. The male stormed into the lobby to the information desk, and as the information clerk pointed to Katt. The male turned and walked to her, smiling with a nod to Katt. Katt stood, smiling and presenting the papers. The male reviewed the papers and nodded, and they turned and walked down the hospital hallway.

Nell stood and followed them, seeing the hospital signage: cafeteria, radiology, laboratory, and medical records. Katt paced ahead and turned left. Nell rushed to the intersection and turned left, seeing Katt enter a new hallway with the hospital signage: information technology department.

One of the letters from Henrietta stated that Katt had received a computer certificate for a job which allowed her to leave Boyer. So Katt was going to move and live in Miami, Florida.

Nell swung around, leaving the hallway and the hospital building, seeing a line of taxi cabs in front of the lobby. She slid into the awaiting taxi cab for a ride back to Miami Airport with wasting more of the dwindling cash from poor dead Ira, traveling back home to Boyer for her escape from hell.

City of Boyer (683 miles northwest from Miami)

BOYER NURSING HOME

Private office of Henry setting

9:09 p.m.

Cold temperatures with bright starry night

The rental car was parked inside the parking lot of the Boyer Nursing Home, and as her eyeballs absorbed the blaring white colored office lights, the rotating third shift of nurses into the building, and the fleeing autos of the second shift nurses out the parking lot. The road was empty and the parking lot was quiet. Henry's home was dark too, since Henrietta was drunk and stoned for the evening.

Nell moved out the car and opened the entrance door of the business, feeling nausea with the smell of dead old folks. The nursing home was the final step before a heavenly death. The old farts died every damn day from some type of strange disease as told by Old Doc Wingo to King Henry, a long time ago, during one of her many doctor visits to that bastard. Wingo was the next person on her short death list later. Tonight, King Henry was first.

Nell stomped down the hallway to the second door on the right, the private office of King Henry. She leaned into the door, listening and smelling a strong odor, not death. King Henry was not dead yet. The odor was his good smell of cologne, clinging to the wood and drifting out of the cracks of the old door.

The third of March was the day of birth for Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, who turned seventeen years old today. Katt was going to be adopted by King Henry. Since Henry liked to induct a virgin innocent girl on her birthday too. However, Katt was located in Miami both alive and safe from King Henry's dick.

Nell smoothed her hair strands, like Katt, over her right eyelash, hiding her suntanned face, like Katt too. She pinched her cheekbones for pinky blush colors and placed pink lipstick over her lips. She un-buttoned the top on her baby blue colored blouse, pleasing the dick of King Henry and knocked on the wooden door.

"Enter, kid!" King Henry shouted behind the door.

Nell slowly turned the knob with a click, shyly stepped inside his office, like Katt, and gently closed the door behind her ass. Henry shifted from the desk chair, sitting his butt on top of the desk. The desk was clear of papers, files, trays, telephones, and objects, a table of pleasure. Nell giggled, swaying her hips toward him. Henry smiled with a nod to Nell. "Tonight, ya get inducted, kid." He pulled off his shirt and revealed a set of sculpted muscles on pale colored skin, working out and staying fit for an old man. One of letters from Henrietta stated that she lost ten pounds to please her husband. But her husband had other external interests for tonight. He bowed his arms, smiling with a chuckle to her. "Kiss me, kid."

Nell said with a smile in a southern accent, like Katt. "Take off your pants, first." All southern people talked with an accent, and as she sounded perfectly, like Katt.

Henry sounded with a grunt, standing and removing his trousers and tossed out his loafers toward the wall. King Henry stood buck naked, looking fantastic to Nell. His penis paralleled the floor and filled up with his sperm ready to burst and spray fluid over the floor. He bowed his arms, desiring the fake Katt with lust, love, and kisses.

She shimmed out of her blouse, and as her small breasts flopped side to side. She unclipped the skirt, dropping it to the floor, showing no pink colored panties underneath. Her vagina expanded, desiring sex from King Henry too. Her juices flowed out and down her pussy and down between her legs, and as her breasts tingled with both pain and pleasure. Nell wore only her baby blue colored shoes with a baby blue colored purse across her left shoulder, slapping a hand over her grinning giggles, like Katt too.

"Gorgeous, kid." Henry advanced toward Katt with a smile. Nell pointed to the empty desk. Henry swung around, climbing and lying on his back on top of the office desk, parting his legs, and as his dick stood upright and danced. His pose was sexy inviting to her lust. He smiled with a nod, motioning with his hand for her, "Ready, kid."

Nell scooted the chair from the wall, hit the desk, and climbed onto the chair. She straddled the desk, climbing over his bent legs, landing both her open palms on his kneecaps. She watched his swirling elongated dick eject sperm from his leaking tip. Nell knelt on the desk, positioning her body at his kneecaps. He opened his legs wider. She leaned down toward his balls and his dancing dick. Nell gently touched the tip of his penis with her soft fingers.

"A natural, kid." Henry sounded with a moan, closing his eyelashes, dropping his arms off the side of the desk. His stomach convoluted and his penis expanded before her eyes. His blood pulsated. His dick muscles grew between her finger pads. Nell leaned down to his penis and blew a single stream of cool air from her pink painted lips over his sensitive organ. He chuckled, making his penis fluid glitter and gleam in tiny bubbles for the tip. His hairy balls jiggled happily with his lust and pleasure for sex. "Go, kid!" Henry sounded with a groan, desiring a blow job.

Nell desired sex also, feeling the same sensations from three months, missing his love touch. She jerked both her hands from his penis, planting her body against his thighs, bending closer into his smiling face and his closed eyelids. Nell sweet breathed into his face, pulling her black colored hair strands from her face. She grabbed the syringe inside her purse and held his dick with her other hand.

His eyelids opened and stared at her. He yelled with a sour frown. "Shit, fucking bitch."

She smiled with a giggle. "Our last fuck King Henry before your hell, kid," she stabbed the hypo needle into the shaft of his elongated penis, injecting the scorpion venom. Then the lovely organ drank down the toxic potion while acting inside his brain cell.

He mouthed silently. "O." Henry was both taller and stronger than her, being able to flip Nell down to floor in an aerobic move, but the scorpion venom attacked his nervous system, first and paralyzing her victim. The cardiology system sucked the rich toxin into the chest cavity, reducing his beating heart, so he stayed calm for her final kill. The venom assaulted his gray matter, shutting down his brain active mental commands to his heart, lungs, limbs, his eyelids, eardrums, and nostrils. King Henry collapsed onto the office desk with a loud plop. His eyelids were open. His mouth drooled out the last drops of fluid that his biological system would ever produce. His vile shit and piss poured out his asshole, and as his chemical hormones shut down within the brain.

The door opened.

Nell had forgotten to lock and seal the door, swinging to see the female. "Henry." Henrietta said with a puzzled frown inside the room. Nell gasped with shock, desiring to show and tell her ma all the truths about Henry, Boyer, Brad, and Germany, instead she did not move. Henrietta saw the naked young girl fucking Henry and stepped toward the desk.

"Stay and watch!" Nell softly whispered. Henrietta gasped in shock, swinging around, leaving the room, slamming the door shut. Nell jumped from the dead body to the floor, dressing her nakedness and picking up the medical items the needle syringe and the scorpion fluid from the floor with the cloth, since King Henry wasn't going to adopt Katt ever.

Henrietta had written happy thoughts of losing weight, eating right, and exercising while trying to impress her lousy husband. Hoping Henry would not fuck anymore innocent Boyer girls during the induction ceremony. Henrietta really loved her husband and her marriage, a union of two people together and forever. Henry stayed with Henrietta through her rotten suppers, her bad house cleaning, and her mild temper tantrums. So Henry had loved Henrietta too.

Nell leaned over the chair, sobbing with her tears, feeling sad, ashamed, and jealous over the lack of love from someone, who cared deeply about her. Her only emotional experiences were hate, pity, and revenge at the city and the natives of Boyer for creating a fucking shitting whore, her. No job skills. No education. No high school diploma.

Nell hated all Boyerians composed of her half-sisters and half-brothers, the town, and even the horses. She sat in the desk chair, sobbing with tears for a pitiful life from God Almighty. Katt was innocent of all this mess and luckily had escaped and left Boyer, Florida. Nell wished Katt good luck and great prosperity, but understood too. Henrietta had seen the murder of King Henry, feeling scared, afraid, and angry at a present Nell, not a missing Katt. Nell stood and kicked the chair against wall, as the wall sounded with a weird creak. She swung around to the wooden panel.

The wall had split apart, revealing a hole with a bank safe between the broken plaster.

She dropped to the floor and pushed the unlocked steel door open to see a set of white bags. She touched the first bag and lifted it with medium weight. Nell opened bag and saw money, dropping her mouth. She recalled that the last two years of her life in Boyer, King Henry gave her and Henrietta numerous nice expensive gifts. Nell found a larger bag, filling it with the white bags of money. She paused and stared at the green colored book inside the bottom of the safe, grabbing and reading the math number $3,084,612.64. There were two smaller notebooks in neatly printed handwriting with the words: Bilirubin Bile Number Seven.

Nell stole everything, leaving no evidence for Sheriff Matt from a common thief robbery at the Boyer Nursing Home. Henry was a business man, maybe an illegal business man, hiding money inside his money safe from the Federal US Government and the US IRS Agency. However, Henry didn't have to bother with that worry anymore.

Nell stared at the dead body on the desk and waved her fingers with a giggle, swinging around and moving to the closed door. She opened the door, looking in both directions, before entering the hallway, leaving the Boyer Nursing Home. Nell had killed twice, not hard, just fast. She really doubted that she would get sleeping nightmares with this dead body, passionately hating King Henry. Well, Henry was in hell, having fun with the devil. Nell would not be there for a very long time.

She entered the rental car, speeding to the airport, driving to the Pensacola airport. She caught her plane ride, sitting in her seat with the bag between her kneecaps, planning her evil plan moving to Miami and haunting Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell for fun until Nell plotted Katt's future date with death.

Present day and place

City of Naples (west coast of US State Florida)

3:55 p.m.

NAPLES BUS TERMINAL (131 miles west from Coral Beach)

Lobby setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The bus tires loudly squeak, ending Nell's horror nightmare of her yesteryears. She viewed the sign: Naples Bus Station. Nell left the bus, moving into the lobby of the bus terminal, scanning the passengers and spotted Katt by the magazine rack. She follows Katt from the terminal lobby and outside the building to the street straight to a bicycle shop. Nell impatiently sat on the hard chair in the outdoor restaurant, ordering a mineral water. The small west coast town of Ruby Beach was a balmy ninety plus degree weather.

Katt left the bicycle store with the male who was pulling a pedaling bicycle to the street sidewalk. No car. No tag. No insurance. No traces. Katt was one smart cookie.

Nell laughed and watched Katt load her big platform shoes into the basket, lifting her small frame onto the padded seat. The male steadied the bike as Katt adjusted the pedals with her naked toe bones. Then the male released the bicycle. Katt wobbled in a crooked line and a straight line, pedaling slow then faster from the street sidewalk. Nell shouted. "Shit." She bumped the table, moving to the corner building at the intersection, running in her baby blue platform shoes. No car, bus, or taxi cab was available for Nell's stalking. Nell stomped over the sidewalk in her high-heels. Katt traveled faster from Ruby Beach.

Nell stopped from exhaustion, observing the geographical direction of Katt, swinging around to the diner, grabbing the paid mineral water, strolling back to bus terminal. She purchased a bus ticket back to Miami, plotting her return to Katt and the town Ruby Beach, as soon as possible. Berrington and his boys still lounged in Boyer, Florida with a nice surprise waiting for them when they returned back home to Miami. Nell had leaked a tiny bit of data to them not trusting the local and state police, CIA or FBI with her new girly secret.

Badass Berrington greatly desired the angel of death both alive and breathing, giving to the finder (Nell) a pot of $150 million reward money. Then the findee (Katt) would receive the death penalty, if Austin did not shoot her, first. Nell laughed, recalling the juicy gossip in the printed trash magazines about the future murderess's personal demise by Austin.

City of Hollywood (east coast of US State Florida)

HOLLYWOOD BUS TERMINAL (20 miles north from Coral Beach)

Lobby setting

5:05 p.m.

Hot temperatures with partly cloudy

Nell exited the Hollywood Bus Terminal and moved to her personal car, popping the trunk of her car, surveying her inventory: cash, hypo needles, and the cold temperature glass tubes of fresh scorpion venom. She counted out the cash, a goodbye present from dead King Henry ten years ago. She kept the money inside an old suitcase beneath the car tire compartment. Nell did not have enough money for a return trip back to Ruby Beach, laughing with evil thoughts, exhaling with disappointment. So she entered the car, driving to the good folks of Boyer, Florida, executing her nasty deed by midnight on Sunday, June fourteenth.
Present day and place

Wednesday June 16th

2:09 p.m.

City of Ruby Beach (west coast of US Florida)

Ruby Diner (133 miles west of Coral Beach)

Lunch booth of Mouse and Tiberius

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Him," Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior whispered and sat alone in his booth, seeing the guy, who had ruined his entire life, destroyed his family both in bloody pain and suffering and Tiberius viciously remembered the hurting memories of his boyhood at sixteen years old.

Ten years ago

City of Miami Shores (11 miles north from Coral Beach)

Childhood of Tiberius Clark, Junior

The man crossed the union picket to purchase both food and clothes for his wife and child. Then the dockers came by the house, beating black and blue colors on the man's body. His biological son shouted as his wife sobbed as his father left the dockers, the dock, and the city of Miami forever. The son never saw his father Tiberius Claudius Clark again.

Helping out his mom by earning a little money to their combined household expenses without his dad, Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior rolled up the morning newspapers stuffing them into the plastic bags and tossed the objects onto the yards, the porches, and the flower gardens of neighbors. His mom worked both a first and a second shift at the local restaurant as a waitress.

After school, Tiberius worked at the local grocery store, bagging and carrying groceries for the shoppers. However, he was limited to three hours on Monday through Friday and five hours on Saturday and Sunday, earning three-dollars-per-hour.

Tiberius came home from school, finding his mom on the floor, unconscious. He called the emergency service of Miami. His mom had suffered a heart attack. She was breathing by a set of plastic tubes and silver wires attached to her body at the ICU in Charity Miami Shores Hospital. His mom opened her eyelashes at sunset, sucking the wet saliva from her partial lips, whispering. "Tiberius, I love you," closing her eyelashes and exhaled her last breath, permanently.

The hospital ICU heart machine sounded with a beep as the hospital nurses and physicians invaded cubby number three, tossing Tiberius in the open corridor and out of the way. The physician banged on his mom's chest with both his fists and twisted to see the heart monitor with a solid line. The physician slammed the defibrillator of the heated metal prongs onto her unconscious body, twisting to see the heart monitor with a solid line of death. He yelled. "Ready. Set. Clear." A second physician reset the machine as the first physician slammed the metal electrical plates down on her naked chest. The first physician viewed the heart monitor with a solid line of death. He yelled out loud again, "Again. Ready. Set. Clear." The machine was reset, again. Another jet of an electrical ping stunned through her still body, unanswered. The first physician screamed. "Again. Set. Clear," the machine reset again and a third round of hot plates touched her naked skin. "Again," the first physician yelled, holding the defibrillator plates in both his hands.

"No," the second physician shook his skull, touching the collar bone of the first physician then viewed the dead woman.

The first physician frowned to Tiberius' tears and twisted to the nurse, saying. "Time of death?"

The next day, in the archway of Tiberius' private home in Miami Shores, a tall nicely dressed Suit stood next to a younger nicely dressed Suit with duplicate a head of blonde hair, a pair of cornflower blue eyes, a tint of pale skin, and a lean frame with a pair of spidery fingers. Tiberius was the man of house, meeting with the funeral director for his mom's funeral. Shockingly, he accepted the visitor's business card that showed the legal representative for the Charity Hospital and listened to unpaid hospital charges: emergency room, ICU monitor bed, physician fees, pharmacy medicines, radiology tests, laboratory medical procedures, and ambulance services, where his mom had died from a clinical heart attack, yesterday.

"How's the bill going to be paid, son?" The Suit pointed to the hospital paper as Tiberius stared at him without an answer. He was a newspaper carrier boy and a grocery bag boy not being able to pay for his supper tonight. The Suit said with a sour frown to Tiberius. "The hospital will be taking legal action to acquire payments of the deceased hospital visit, son," then both the Suits exited Tiberius' house to a shiny golden colored limousine parked on his street.

Seven days later, the Suits returned with stacks of legal papers and a police escort as Tiberius was forced to leave his mom's home, her furniture, her furnishings, and her car with his few personal items which included a worn baseball glove. Tiberius was both homeless and penniless. His good friend Langford offered a single room space above his family's home garage, until Tiberius could graduate high school.

At eighteen years old, Tiberius married Langford's sister at eighteen years old and worked for his father-in-law's small box packing business. Langford, Junior became the vice president of sales and advertising, complimenting his boyish good looks and charming personality while attending Miami-Dade University during the days. He entertained new clients at night.

After Langford, Senior retired, he promoted his son to president. Langford, Junior moved into the business office at the warehouse in the city limits of Miami Springs and promoted Tiberius as the new vice president of production at the warehouse.

Seven years ago

City of Miami Shores

Business venture of Tiberius

Tiberius worked hard, installing both new employees and new ideas into the prosperous and growing Langford Boxes, Incorporated. He used his brain to increase the profits of the company, purchasing ancient equipment for a side business called Sign Painting. He created colorfully fun logos for the old and new clients on their purchased plain brown boxes. The side line of colorful products boomed with part-time artists, painters, and profits into Langford's money pocketbook.

So, Tiberius stayed as the vice president, overseeing the overworked whiny employees, expensive advertising, fixing ancient equipment, and repairing the rusty warehouse while making strong cheap cardboard boxes.

Langford, Junior opened a new customer retail shop in Coral Gables on Miracle Mile, still entertaining new clientele and received a small business loan from an old respected Miami company Quartet Company while Tiberius was stuck in the warehouse at Miami Shores, bitterly recalling.

The Quartet Company was the legal firm represented by Charity Hospital which handled his mom's hospital bill. Quartet Company was owned by four non biological brothers, one of the brothers was named Thomas Edison Sawyer, Junior, who took the world of sixteen years old Tiberius away in his big long limo. The younger Suit, who witnessed Tiberius' shame and humiliation, was named appropriately after his father and was called Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

Three years ago

City of Coral Gables (five miles west from Coral Beach)

Marriage of Tiberius and Clara

Tiberius felt an anticipated marriage problem coming from his wife Clara of seven years.

This evening, he arrived home in Coral Gables, missing both his dinner and his Clara. So he decided to spy on Clara's late night meeting in Kendall, seeing her with another guy. Tiberius drove back home first, impatiently waiting on her arrival at 11:15 pm, hearing the squeaky garage door open and close. Clara quietly glided upstairs, slipping between the bed linens. He pretended to snort and felt Clara next to him, flipping over, wrapping his arms around her, whispering. "Fuck me."

"Not tonight, headache," Clara flipped to the wall and away from Tiberius.

"Make it vanish, darling. Guarantee you feel better in minutes." Tiberius stretched the truth as his last sex act with his wife Clara lasted five minutes and six seconds. He had ejaculated too fast in her vagina from a lack of practice as they had not fucked in weeks. Tiberius tenderly kissed her hair, rubbing her ass.

"On my period," she firmly said.

Tiberius got not one rejection but two. He moved his hand from massaging her ass, targeting his fingers between her closed legs. He pried the little hole, penetrating her vagina in her panties with his index finger and jingled his finger up and down, collecting the vile wet substance.

"What the hell?" She flipped around, sitting upright and staring at him with fury and angry.

He raised his wet finger, studying the substance. "No blood?"

"You're sick attacking me like that an animal." Clara sneered.

He smiled and nodded, studying his finger. "Married, Clara. Some kinda white stuff on my finger, thou? What is this?" He moved his wet finger to her nose.

"Vaginal discharge." Clara smiled with a cool demeanor.

He moved his finger to his nose. "Liquid and thin particles not thick like your vaginal discharge." He viewed her. "Could it be little bits of sperm?"

"Sperm!? What the hell does that mean?" Clara frowned.

He grinned. "You seem to be experiencing a short term memory loss, darling. Sperm usually comes from a man's penis, during sex. Whose sperm is it, Clara? Can't be mine. We haven't fucked in weeks. Who are you fucking, Clara? That guy in Kendall, maybe?" He frowned. "Don't deny it! I followed you, this evening."

Clara stood, pointing to him. "Ya fucking prick. Okay. All right. That's Eli. He loves me. I love him. We're going to get married, have babies, and be happy which I can't be with you. I have a lawyer and have filled the divorce papers, last week. You should get them by the end of this week," turning and leaving their shared bedroom.

Two weeks late, Tiberius lost his house, his pension, his saving bank account, and his business partner but not his business. He quickly scraped money of debt for nine million dollars from the local bank for the new Tiberius Boxes, his private business company. After being robbed, burned, and buried by Clara, he dropped all female acquaintances, except for an occasional fuck now to satisfy a sexual craving and it was not hot passionate sex either. However, his long term goal, in his long tormented life, was something different. His new life was empty.

His home contained of one single king sized bed, three mismatched sofas, three side tables, four floor lamps, a small kitchenette, three storage closets, and a single lavatory which overlooked the interstate roadway on the top floor of his warehouse business, Tiberius Boxes.

Ten days ago

City of Miami Shores (eleven miles north from Coral Beach)

New girlfriend of Tiberius

The whore, with the stringy black hair down to her ass and a weird suntanned skin, sucked on her hot dog standing beside Tiberius, flirting and winking. "Been watching you, kid."

"Name!?" Tiberius grinned to her.

She always hung around the hotdog vendor, watching him engage and entertain the other females for companionship from the previous nights. "Mouse." She extended her hand as Tiberius cuddled her with a wicked grunt. That evening, Tiberius was king as the whore was his queen.

Seven days ago

City of Miami Shores

House of Tiberius and Mouse

Mouse made the bed, cooked his breakfast, and set a pretty table with sandwiches and beverages for their lunch, watching the plasma.

The television reported had interviewed an individual from the police department, the FBI, the CIA, homeland security, and some of the stunned CDC medical personnel as she said with a smile into the camera lens. "The biggest manhunt of two centuries for a person of interest who had killed 8,063 people and each person had died inside a Charity Hospital throughout South Florida..."

Tiberius clicked off the television too tired to be bothered watching his new toy, opening the sandwich, pondering his stressful day. The crew chief was out. Three workers called in sick and the payroll was due this week. He needed to drop by bank tomorrow and transfer money funds to cover all the weekly business expenses. His life changed too much on a daily basis without his ex-wife, ex-partner, and ex-employees, regarding his new business and his old possessions.

Tiberius viewed the open window and saw a rotten world, desiring all people to go away and leave him alone. He felt depressed not being able to complete his special personal mission. He felt confused not being able to settle his private revenge. He felt afraid not following his plans for both Clara and Langford.

Mouse was not ever tired, flipping through the numerous television stations on the plasma, sipping on cans of soda that she brought and she never ate food only quietly sat at the table, watching Tiberius eat. Tiberius was pleased that Mouse called his place home. Mouse cleaned, cooked, shopped, and performed numerous sex acts as a bonus except for her one bad habit. She left at nine p.m. from their bedroom and into her car, going somewhere and came back, crawling in bed around midnight beside him.

"I know who killed them, kid." Mouse nodded and pointed to the television. "All 8,063 graves, she killed in my hometown ten years back. I've been chasing her. I'm the law. She killed my father. Her name is Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. The federal authorities think that this is a suicide group of zealots. The authorities are wrong. They're looking in the wrong direction, kid. She can kill with a touch," she sipped the soda. "If she touches you, you're dead. Her hands are laced with poisons. I'm undercover on this assignment by my Maker. I can't give ya my real name. I have traced her here from a small town in northwest Florida hoping to expose her method to the police. That's the big secret that has kept everyone in the dark. Now, the Quartet Assholes know too." She stood, advancing to Tiberius, saying with a smile and nod. "I have work to do, kid." She kissed his food covered lips with her tongue and her lips. "I don't want to involve you, just yet. I'll need you later. Okay, kid?" Tiberius nodded as Mouse waved, smiling. "Good. I'll be back, kid."

Tiberius stood, moving to the window, watching her car vanish around the street corner. He waited three minutes and followed her car down Interstate 95 to US Highway One. Mouse was an independent spirit. He liked her talk of success, adventure, and travels to exotic places around the world and her fucking him over and over along with the moaning and groaning of sex acts over and over, again. His car chase led to the parking lot of Charity Kendall Hospital as Tiberius circled his truck and headed back home to Miami Shores.

Three days ago

City of Miami Shores

Warehouse of Tiberius

Her dark shadow silently entered the room, smiling with dancing baby blue eyes and shimmery dyed black hair with blue highlights. Tiberius stood, moving and hugging her, saying with a worried brow. "Where have you been? You've been gone for two days and nights. I was really worried and wondering about you, Mouse." He kissed her lips with emotional reasons.

One, Tiberius loved Mouse as she was the most honest and sincere girl to him. Two, Mouse had tracked the killer of 8,063 souls in Miami as she was a competent police officer. Three, he wanted the $150 million tax free lump sum payment in a single checking account as he was a poor businessman.

Mouse popped the soda, smiling. "I visited my old haunt, my old home in Boyer, Florida. Everyone's fine and dandy now," giggling. "And I found the girl. She's hiding in a small beach town called Ruby Beach on the west coast of Florida. We pack light. Need blankets, pillows, sleeping bags, water, food. We might be camping in the car for a while as we track her movements. Then we trick her somehow or get some dumb muscle to kidnap her from her hidey hole. She kills with her hands. Remember, kid?" Tiberius nodded as Mouse nodded. "I don't wanna die, before I get to spend all that 150 mil, kid," she laughed, hugging him.

Two days ago

Compact car ride west on Alligator Alley

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Tiberius and Mouse traveled in the heated air of the old compact car to Ruby Beach, starting their own manhunt. Once they found the girl, they would execute a live capture of a serial killing mass murderer of 8,063 bodies. The result would be 150-million-dollar bounty offered by the Quartet.

At lunchtime, inside the cool air conditioned diner, they escaped the heated sunny day and windy sandy beach. Mouse chewed the food. "She is here," scanning the diner and Tiberius. Tiberius gobbled down his food. She chewed the food. "I feel her. We need to draw her out of her hiding place. The hiding place is the key. We need something else to get her attention, kid." Tiberius finished his food, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, munching on his dessert. Mouse nodded. "We need a fake plan like a scam to get her into our hands like a trap."

"Yeah, a trap." Tiberius burped and slurped on the beer bottle.

Mouse smiled at useless Tiberius. "Good thinking, kid. This is a beach town. Beach. Water. Sports. Ski. Fishing. Boating. Cruises. That's it. A cruise to the Bahamas. We offer a free three-day cruise to the Bahamas, a free trip for trying something like a drink."

"Yeah, a drink!" Tiberius ate.

"We create a new kind of soda. They drink a small sip of our new soda, then the person or party receives two free tickets to the Bahamas. We scam them, offer a fake ticket. They don't pay us nothing. No problem. We aren't robbing them. We just don't deliver a cruise on Sunday morning. Then we, me and you will be on a cruise with all that Quartet money of one hundred and fifty million dollars." She laughed as he smiled with food particles between his teeth. She nodded. "We need to hit the grocery store and collect ingredients for the new soda. We need a clever advertisement name...fast and catchy...like Flame."

"Red for Ruby," he burped and chewed.

"Ruby Flame. Brilliant. You're very brilliant, kid." Mouse winked.

One day ago

City of Ruby Beach

Ruby Diner lunchtime setting

Mouse's brains and Tiberius' money had persuaded the owner of the diner to advertise a new fitness drink as they used one of the booths in the dark wall corner, near the twin bathrooms. The paper banner above the lunch boot sign read: Ruby Flame. The drink colored was a reddish-yellow mixture of tap water, white sugar, red tobacco sauce, and hot pepper flakes. Tiberius had tested the beverage and vomited the hot and smelly liquid all over the floor. So, it was a perfect scam to attract and capture an angel of death.

Katt did not show for breakfast, lunch, or dinner time as the diner guests silently accepted or cursed at Ruby Flame. Some of the guests left the cruise tickets, after tasting the nasty fitness drink. So, the day's hunt was a waste of time, energy, and resources.

After leaving the diner, they had cruised in her car up and down the eight blocks of Ruby Beach, scouting shops by foot, the restaurants by smell, and the public areas by car for Katt. Tiberius worried about his cash, paying for the expensive rental beach house, since the reasonable hotel rooms were occupied. He also paid gasoline for the car, food for two mouths, and other sundry items for the beach house. He wanted to end the manhunt and return back home to Miami Shores. His workers enjoyed blowing off the time clock when boss wasn't around.

Present day and place

City of Ruby Beach

2:12 p.m.

Ruby Diner lunch booth of Mouse and Tiberius

Tiberius cleared a nervous throat, viewing Thomas Edison Sawyer, III.

"Recognize me." Tom parked both his hands on a pair of expensive tailored trousers with a smile and a nod.

Tiberius faked a smile. "Yes sir, Mr. Sawyer."

Tom scooted his ass into the booth on the opposite side of Tiberius, looking down to the red glowing fitness drink. "Thanks, man. What do you have inside that paper cup, sir?"

Tiberius cleared his throat, "I am promoting a new drink, Ruby Flame. It is hot and saucy with an after effect."

Tom stared at the paper cup with a laugh, "Is it an after effect? Is it a new kind of tasty beer?"

"A new fitness beverage, if you try one sip, you receive two tickets to the Bahamas for free. Yes, sir! A nice trip for two with one single taste," he pointed to the paper cup, shaking the tickets, grinning.

Tom stared down with a smile at the red liquid. "No shit! Free stuff just for a gulp of the new fitness drink. Well, shit! I like free stuff. Gimme the cup, man." Tiberius slid the paper cup over to Tom, wishing the cup was filled with cyanide poison. Tom grabbed and gulped half the liquid and dropped down the paper cup to the table, spilling the rest of the liquid. He grabbed his throat, coughing and wheezing for air, cursing from the surprising nasty taste. "Shh...," he sounded with a groan and a cough, wiping his watery tears, cursing. "Fff..."

Tiberius presented the two tickets to Tom, waving a hand with a smile and a nod. "No opinions please! Here's your free set of tickets for two people to the Bahamas. Thank you for trying our new fitness drink. Come again and bring a friend!" Tom stood upright from the booth with a cough and then a wheeze, spinning around and advanced back to his lunch booth, covering a mouth from vomiting, sliding the two tickets into the jacket and rubbed his eyes with the stinging tears. Tiberius watched the ass of Sawyer wiggle away with a smile and a nod. "Enjoy your day, Mr. Sawyer." Tom tossed an arm into the air and rushed back to the Quartet lunch booth with a cough and a wheeze.

2:22 p.m.

Lunch booth of the Quartet

"What happened to you, bro?" Stu said with a sour frown, seeing a pair of watery blue eyes, a red puffed face, and a set of puckered pink lips on Tom. Tom slid in the seat, pointing to the banner: Ruby Flame.

Frank turned with a sour frown and viewed the banner and Sawyer. "Tom, stuff is not free. You should know that true fact being a lawyer. You're going to die tasting shit that's not tested by the FDA," he chuckled with his brothers.

Stu slapped Tom on the collar bone as Sawyer coughed, wheezed, and snorted for air, wiping his eyeballs. Stu laughed with a smile. "Kill Tom? That'd be the day. The man has nine lives," he laughed. Tom coughed, wheezed, wiping his eyes from moisture.

"He has used up the lucky nine already. I believe he's on about eighteen or nineteen by now." Frank chuckled with his brothers. Tom reminded silent without his usual elegant string of curse words as he continued to cough, wheeze, and wipe his eyes.

"Cat got your tongue, bro?" Stu grinned, staring at an unusual quiet and mellow Tom.

"Tom, are you ill?" Austin frowned. Tom was not joking around like usual. Sawyer shook his bangs and coughed, wiping his watery eyes.

"Open your mouth," Frank scooted around the booth cushion, staring at Tom. Tom shook his bangs, shifting to the edge of the bench.

"Let Frank examine you, bro." Stu grabbed Tom by the collar bone, halting the escape from Frank.

Frank slapped Tom's chest, ordering with a sour frown and a matching tone. "Tom, open your mouth. You probably burned your esophagus or something. Let me check." Sawyer shook his bangs, wiping his eyes as Frank frowned. "Hold him down, Stu. Present to me your tongue." Stu tucked Tom in his chest. Mangrove frowned. "Tongue, Thomas." Sawyer struggled for an escape as Stu tickled the belly region on Tom. Sawyer giggled, sticking out his pink tongue to Frank. Frank dropped his mouth with a sour frown. "Ah." Stu laughed.

Austin frowned. "Is he going to die, Frank?"

"I predict not. But his tongue's blistered just like his ass last month at the beach." Frank exhaled as Stu and Austin chuckled.

"Not a pretty sight, bro." Stu chuckled and cuddled Tom.

"I have some mints in my medical bag inside the limo. You should chew them to relief the swallowing." Frank frowned, scooting off the bench and stood, moving to the door of the diner. Tom sucked his swollen tongue back into his puckered lips with a nod and stood, following Frank out the door of the diner.

"One good thing! Tom's not going to bother us for the rest of the evening." Stu shouted for Tom's ears. Sawyer swung around, moving backwards and dangled a pink blistered tongue at Stu. Then, Stu and Austin laughed.
Thursday June 17th

10:06 a.m.

City of Ruby Beach

Ruby Beach Hotel

Private penthouse suite of Austin Berrington, IV

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

"Is that a new look, Austin?" Frank chuckled, sitting in a green and pink flowered oversized loveseat, reading the paper files from the sheriff's department about the non-progress of the angel of death manhunt.

Austin frowned and viewed Frank. "Look?"

"The five o'clock shadow, bro." Stu chuckled, touching his face, feeling the new growth of whiskers from yesterday.

Austin rubbed the unshaven jaw, grinning. "More like a ten o'clock shadow." The brothers had searched for Katt day and night in the little retirement town of Ruby Beach, missing properly cooked meals, non-bathing in hot showers, and neglecting to shave faces when a new clue beeps onto Stu's mobile telephone. A sketchy lead popped up and disappeared in the sand dunes of the sugary white colored beaches of Ruby Beach.

Eye witnesses might have seen and did not see Katt. Some Rubians talked, hinted, and ranted useless shit for the one-thousand-dollar informational reward. All the telephone interviews, facial interviewees plus a few kids talked day and night with the Quartet in-between the hourly planning sessions with the local police and medical staff. The manhunt teams inspected and searched the physical property which consisted of homes, buildings, offices, shops, and warehouses within a five-miles-wide and eight-miles-radius of Ruby Beach.

Quartet Associates had set up an 888-telephone number to collect, trace, and track all the anonymous clues finding the mysterious Katt. Each caller must provide a valid street address and social security number before receiving the one-thousand-dollar reward of uttered English or sometime foreign words. The telephone receiver rings twenty-four hours and seven-day per week there at the Quartet command center on Miracle Mile in Coral Gables. Stu has employed fifty-three additional people to answer the phones and take verbal and electronic messages and forwarded all the information to the Quartet security teams which were paired with the FBI, the CIA, the MPD, and the US Marshals. The telephone calls continued day and night as the days and nights came and went. However, the girl hid in her lair.

Tom slammed the door with a sour frown. "I'm going to sue those assholes for burning my tongue."

"Forget it, Tom." Frank read the paper folders.

"This is a free country, Tom. Ya can drink anything nasty ya want as long as ya don't murder someone afterwards." Stu chuckled, typing on his laptop.

"These guys are criminals and acted with criminal intent, using a criminal weapon, the nasty shitty drink. I'm heading back there." Tom pointed the window with a sour frown and a nod.

"Yipe! That is some brilliant reasoning, Law Man." Stu chuckled with Frank at Tom's silly behavior when Sawyer was not performing his brilliant job of lawyering for the Quartet as the head attorney.

Austin read the paper folders too. "Forget it, Tom. We have too much work to do."

Tom moved to the window, frowning. "Shit."

"What's our schedule for today?" Austin looked to see Stu. The manhunt had led to nowhere but maybe the edge of a hell pit. The bus terminal agent in Hollywood, Florida had recognized the face of Miss Kattrell from her Florida driver license. Miss Kattrell was cute petite and pretty in her baby blue shorts. The agent remembered the matching blue outfit, shoes, and purse on Katt, because he sold her the single one-way ticket three days before the Naples trip from Miami. So, Katt had planned every step of her escape. And Austin was mad with desiring viciousness to find her and to blow her shitting brains out the other side of her pretty skull. He exhaled with huff of annoyance, viewing the ass of Sawyer. Tom stood with his hands tucked under his armpits, feeling angry about the shitty salty and hot peppered beverage. Tom had consumed the nasty beverage yesterday at the diner during suppertime when Frank discovered an array of first degree blisters inside Tom's mouth. "Sit down, Tom!" Austin ordered as the boss of the Quartet.

Tom back stepped, sitting in the nearest chair, shuffling his jumpy tasseled new leathers side to side on the floor, and stared out the window of another beautiful day in Ruby Beach, Florida.

Stu read from the laptop the agenda meetings for the day to the Quartet. "Ten with the sheriff. Eleven thirty with the coroner. One pm with the deputies. Three pm with Dr. Ryan Harper, a local physician and then..."

"When's lunch?" Tom turned with a smirk to see Austin.

"Didn't you eat breakfast like the rest of us?" Frank read the paper folders.

"No. I'm hungry, now. I'm getting breakfast. Who wants to come?" Tom stood, swinging around with a smile and a nod, bowing his arms.

"Our work meeting schedule!?" Stu looked up to see Austin. Austin stared a fibbing Tom.

Tom moved to the archway, saying with a giggle and a grin. "Know that. Eat fast. Does anyone want anything?" He opened the bedroom door and disappeared out of eyesight, moving around the wall corner, since Austin did not command him to stay put. Tom opened the exit door, running down the exit staircase. He had about twenty-five minutes to find and then abuse those assholes at the diner, before he had to pretend to finish his breakfast and return to Austin's suite to his brothers without hinting a word of his dirty deed. Sawyer did not want them skipping town without their names, addresses, driver licenses, and fucking social security numbers and he was not dropping his revengeful idea of suing them to smooth his angry.

He exited down the staircase into the hot weather, jogging to his personal vehicle. When Austin traveled he brought the entire fleet of Quartet toys, including the jet, the cars, the limos, and the army. A-team, B-team, and C-team were housed in the hotel, occupying the upper four floors for past three days. Tom sniggered with a smile. "Gawd, I love being rich." He moved and slid into the cool leather seat of his personal sports car, firing up the engine, gunned the pedal, and needing the GPS for the swiftest route to the diner, since Tom remembered everything with his 190 IQ.

He sped fast out the parking lot, scaring the ocean seagulls, roaring down the paved road like thunder and headed north to the Ruby Diner. He was mad with the threats of multiple law suits against the owner for letting those little assholes into his business diner and setting up a booth and servicing those dangerous non-FDA approved beverages while burning the biological parts like lips and throat on people. "When Thomas Edison Sawyer, III is mad, everyone gets sued," he shouted, speeding eighty miles-per-hour on the roadway.

Hotel window view setting

"You do know where his going, don't you, Austin?" Stu stared at the taillights of the speeding sports car that sailed down the road to the traffic light as the car kicked white sand in the air from the Quartet penthouse hotel suite of Austin's room.

Austin read the paper folders. "Of course, I do. Tom can't do any professional work without harassing someone in the morning first. Let him finish. He'll be back later," finishing his cold cup of milk.

10:13 a.m.

Ruby Diner (four miles north from hotel)

Parking lot setting

Hot temperatures and windy

"You," Tom parked the car and scooted out from his car seat, standing and swinging, and pointed and moved to the male with a yell. The male was the con-man, who was running away from Tom. However, the male was going to pay as Tom pondered the collection method of his revenge of check by mail or by a bank account or by an electronic transfer.

Tom had learned from past historical personal experience that the best punishment for a man or a woman ain't violence, only money. Ya could beat the shit out of a guy, his girl, his children, his parents, his family members, and his dog. Hey. But mess with his loot, the guy would strike back, viciously.

The diner was open for business too. Tom's stomach growled with hunger pains, deciding to skip his breakfast for his proper revenge of the two kids. Tom recalled one person in the diner booth yesterday. The male was built like a tree stump with a tight ass young girl, who was moving away from their shared lunch booth to the exit archway. They appeared like kids, who probably were someone's spoiled children, having fun in the neighborhood. Children needed discipline. Bad children needed punishment. Might as well practice those parenting skills now, since Jane and he were going to be starting a family really soon.

Tom parked away from the diner near the seashore, disguising his element of surprise, betting that the local un-happy diner customers did not bitch or pee or shit on the diner owner, since these silly children had tricked the wrong guy to piss on. Tom turned with a sour frown to see the glass panes on the diner without seeing any additional advertisement signage for Ruby Flame. So the kids were locals and the diner owner might be the father of the heathens. Tom would be figuring all that out in a court of law for his upcoming monetary revenge. He turned and strutted to a grove of palm trees near the street boulevard as he was trained for this type of escape and could fight with hand guns, rifles, knives, sticks, clubs and his bare hands on any and all assailants.

Austin made him go way too many defense and offense fitness classes which were taught by a set of personal instructors or his brother Stu. Big brother Stu was a hard body to toss at the ground. Tom would never ever in a million years fight against Gage, who were too tall, too heavy, and too mean. However, Tom could handle his share of the physical exercises during the pretend play warfare which was taught by Stu, the war god.

Tom shook his bangs, thinking that these kids were both young and stupid too, noting that they had not notice him strutting in their direction. They were huddled together at the rear of old compact car, whispering to each other.

10:16 a.m.

Tiberius heard the noise, twisting to see the sound. Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third was dashing to Tiberius and the car with a sour frown.

Last night, Tiberius and Mouse had talked hours about kidnapping Sawyer as they discreetly surveyed the Ruby Hotel like beach guests, where Tom both stayed and played. They only witnessed too many Quartet Associate (QA) guards with a loaded gun, who were talking and walking the lobby, the conference rooms, the poolside, and the sandy playground. Austin had rented the entire hotel for his impromptu visit to Ruby Beach while searching for Katt and encountering no luck in her capture either. So the Quartet should go back home to Miami.

Tiberius did not care about the girl. The girl was Mouse's revenge. He desired the 150-million-dollar finder's fee which was provided by Quartet Associates for one single cold-blooded serial killing mass murderer, once her body was brought into the police station alive. The lump sum of 150 million dollars would be given for a ninety-pound unconscious female body. The lump sum of 150 million dollars would be received without paying taxes to Uncle Sam. And the lump sum of 150 million dollars of cash would be deposited instantly in the bank account without questions. Tiberius wanted the money, not the girl. His bank account ran lower than the Gulf of Mexico tide while paying for this side trip to paradise. The old smelly hotel was cheap and comfortable until it became occupied by another rental party. All beach towns provided fun in the sun and drinks under the moon light for paying registered guests. Now, Tiberius desired his revenge for his mom and his pitiful life upon seeing happy Tom at the diner yesterday.

Tom was going to pay the debt of the transgression, using his own red blood which would complete the cycle for the death of Tiberius' mom and Tiberius' sorry life, sorry ex-wife, sorry ex-business partner, and sorry ex-business, since Sawyer had taken everything from Tiberius. So, Tiberius would take everything from Sawyer.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third drew closer to Tiberius and the compact car. Mouse turned with a worried brow to see Tom, who was moving to Tiberius and softly sounded with a moan. Tom looked mad after tasting that nasty bitter hot beverage at the diner yesterday along with some of the bitchy customers about the nasty drink. Mouse had ignored them concentrating on her clever trap for Katt, who had not showed to eat a meal at the restaurant. Mouse stared at chicken shit Tiberius with a whisper for her eardrums only, "Stupid, asshole." Since, her introduction and first fucking sex date with Tiberius, he talked about nothing else but killing Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third, who was his sworn enemy with a pair of two bare knuckles, if the moment ever presented. And now, the moment was presenting.

Tiberius presented a pair of slumped shoulders and sweated with a set of water balls over his pale forehead in the morning heat, showing no hairy balls. So Mouse had to be the man of the story and savior of dipshit Tiberius from Tom's wrath and her benefit. One, Tiberius had the money. Thus, Mouse could not finish the search without money for food, gas, and shelter.

Two, Tiberius gave out free sex. Mouse had better, remembering that King Henry was great. Ira was good. But Mouse needed her daily ritual.

Three, the Quartet bounty is 150-million-dollars in cash. So, Mouse desired Katt dead while Berrington would ensure that little deadly feat without her personal touch.

Her wrecked sports car was burnt and buried in yellow dead weeds of Hollywood, Florida with no burnt human from the freaky car chase. The White House had announced to the entire world that Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell had escaped alive with her life and Quartet Associates had offered a bounty of 150-million-dollars for her capture, only if the nicknamed 'angel of death' was found alive and breathing. The local Ruby Beach police were hunting for Katt too. Berrington and his brothers were using their billions, their brains, and their balls to search every inch of Florida from the northern city of Pensacola over to the western city of Jacksonville and down to the southern island of Key West for hunting down a ninety pounded girl nicknamed Katt.

Mouse had seen a few of those loose bounty hunters vying for the reward too, but they were gone now. However, Mouse was not impressed with Badass Berrington. Something was wrong with the man. And something was definitely wrong with Sawyer. These guys needed to hang it up and go back home to Miami, resting on their private beach with beer bottles and reading books. Then, Mouse would bring Katt to them.

Mouse shoved Tiberius towards the car door with a worried brow and her order. "Get into the car!"

"Fight him!" Tiberius whispered and watched Tom advance to them.

"In public with an eye witness! No, asshole." Mouse reached down and grabbed her purse, holding it in her hand, shoving Tiberius to the car door with a worried brow.

Tom turned and veered to the girl, who was protecting the guy, seeing with his perfect vision. The girl was really ugly. A beauty fact, he missed yesterday. But the corner lunch booth held very little sunlight from the very small lamp over the table built into the side of the beige wall probably used during afterhours for cocktail drinks or a light dinner for lovers. In the bright sunlight, the girl was short with a head of long stringy black colored hair which was parted down the middle and she wore a shade of bright yellow skin. He halted with a sour face, studying the truly ugly creature, focusing on her odd appearance. She was not a young teenager more like a damn ugly fugly adult. Mouse stood, swaying her yellow colored body to the left and to the right, smiling and advancing to Tom. Tom stared at the fucking ugly girl. She came closer to Tom and lifted, slamming a heavy platform sole on the top on Tom's new leather. "Jeezus," he shouted, wobbling on one leg, lifting and caressing the non-broken but bruised toe bones with both his hands, bowing down to her. Mouse aimed, hit, and connected her baby blue purse against Tom's protruding jaw line. Sawyer was both defenseless and helpless to stop her forceful swing. The purse punched at his jaw and mouth, cutting his lips as his blood spurted over his pale face, his white dress shirt, and the gray pavement below his body. His lanky body swayed slightly as his eyelids close. His hands loosen in the air as he plummeted to the left onto the hard gray asphalt.

"Damn..." Tiberius parted his lips in horror.

"Get him inside!" Mouse squatted, lifting Tom's leg, narrowing her eyelashes, observing the empty parking lot and city street.

"Leave him." Tiberius back stepped from an unconscious and bleeding Tom, who was resting on top of the hard pavement.

"Wanted him, got him. Move him inside the car." Mouse lifted both on Tom's legs, scanning for an eyewitness which was clear. Her plan was working perfectly. She had parked their car underneath the disgusting fruit trees instead inside one of the clean and open parking spots. Now, they had captured one troublemaker and searched impatiently for the second troublemaker. The trees dropped rotten pieces of smelly fruit on the parking lot asphalt especially when the sea breezes were high. The fruit smacked numerous tart fruit stains on top of the engine hoods of the cars, if the vehicles were parked underneath a tree. No one parked here and not even the employees. The time was 10:23 a.m. The breakfast ran is done. The diner was quiet, setting up for the lunch meal run, where the parking lot was very empty.

Tiberius squatted and lifted Tom, dragging his ass to the rear door of car, grunting and lifting Tom into the rear seat with a sissy whine. "He's heavy." Mouse toted the feet on Tom, throwing her weight to the seat, grunting and lifting Tom inside the hot car. Tom rested on his side, facing the seat and was still unconscious and bleeding from the hard big rock in Mouse's purse, a lot more useful rather than the pink shade of lipstick.

"He's in. Ya sit in rear just in case." Mouse slammed the door, taking the driver seat.

Tiberius nodded, sliding beside Tom, looking down with a smile. "Okay." Mouse started the car, driving from the parking lot to the street. He exhaled with a huff of nervousness, looking up with a sour frown to see her black hair roots. "Our fucking plans are fucked."

"Our fucking plans are working perfectly." Mouse drove over the highway with a smirk and a nod.

"We need Katt. We don't know her hidey hole."

"Calm down. Half of our plan is finished. Ya got Sawyer. He's yours. Once I find Katt, she's mine. Then we take her to the police, get the reward, and you can kill Sawyer in revenge. The other half of the plan is done. We're rich living in Aruba."

"I don't wanna live in Aruba. Where's Aruba?" Tiberius turned with a sour frown to see Tom.

"A place, I mentioned off the top of my head. We can live anywhere you want to, kid," she drove to the rental beach house and thankful for the private spot on the isolated beach. The house provided both excellent security and privacy away from the crowded hotels, streets, and beaches even though it was expensive and came without any furnished necessity items of plates, chairs, tables, beds, and a single washing machine for their clothes. Tiberius was not spending any more of his money to buy furniture inside the beach house for their comforts. He had purchased a pair of $10.62 ugly neon orange beach light-weight lounge chairs for sleeping and the $3.24 metal television trays for eating with the food, paper plates, plastic cups and utensils.

Mouse had lived away from her Boyer home and her Germany home for a long time with nothing and she had learned to live in places with very little furniture and very few personal items. So she was not bothered by the scant emptiness of the beach house. However, Tiberius was sweet for providing from his home four bathing towels, two storage coolers, food items, three blankets, and a couple of pillows for sleeping inside the car while hunting for Katt.

Mouse had noted the withdrawal symptoms of Tiberius. The paradise trip was costing his money and time as she listened patiently to his complains on an hourly basis about the warehouse and the workers for his personal business. She worried about an uptight Tiberius, an absent Katt, and her own sickly body. However, the bright sun spot of day was the capture on Tom. She reached and adjusted the rear view mirror, seeing that Tiberius was looking down and grinning at Sawyer with his blood revenge. Tom was the new toy to occupy Tiberius while Mouse located a misplaced Katt.

10:33 a.m.

Ruby Beach shoreline

Beach house rental of Mouse and Tiberius (ten miles north from the hotel)

Bedroom setting

Hot temperatures and windy

Mouse turned and moved from the road, stopping the engine near the back door of the beach house.

Tiberius opened the door and leaped from the car, touching the feet on Tom. He was impressed with her police and undercover skills. His mental thought, all the dangerous possibilities that they might encounter on the road trip to Ruby Beach. He enjoyed her company too while plotting with his murder of Sawyer, even though Mouse was law enforcement officer.

Mouse told Tiberius all her terrible stories as a young child as she chose this dangerous undercover police work to help people. She felt that Sawyer had betrayed Tiberius and his mom, faulting Tom for letting his mom get sick and die on the ICU floor inside the hospital. Concluding, Sawyer must be punished for his evil doings like Mouse punished all the evil people, her way.

Tiberius pulled Tom and dragged his unconscious body through the sand, into kitchen, down the hallway, dropping him in the middle of the spare bedroom. Tom's body folded and cradled onto the clean floor. Tiberius used the steak knife, ripping and tearing pieces of blue dress trousers and white dress shirt on Tom. He placed the long fabric strips around the ankles, mouth, and both wrists on Tom. Tiberius stood and smiled down at Tom, looking up to see Mouse, "Now what?" He moved to her and kissed her face, pulling back with a smirk.

She smiled with a nod. "Let Prince Charmed get his beauty rest. We need to make some new plans." Mouse back stepped and slammed the door with a boom.

10:38 a.m.

Guest bedroom on Tom

"Austin." Tom said with a soft moan, reacting to the door slam and his aching skull. He lifted his face, feeling pain, jerking his hands against his back muscles, and kicked both his leathers in a forward direction. All his limbs were tied. He worked his lower jaw up and down, wiggling out the homemade gag from his sore mouth. "Shit, captured." His skull hurt and his cheekbones ached. His mouth throbbed. He rubbed a tongue over his teeth, not feeling his lips from the violent punch. He scooted and wiggled across the cool tile to the sliding glass doors, arching his neck muscles, catching his handsome reflection and grinned while ignoring the pain. He saw a set of perfectly straight teeth that reflected back from the clean glass and bright sunshine. His lips were swollen. His cheekbone colored in a bluish black. "Damn." Tom shook his bangs feeling pain, a concussion. Do not shake the skull twice.

Austin was going to be royally pissed that Tom had gotten captured. Stu would never let him forget it either. Wait. His brothers did not know about the capture.

Tom could salvage his situation and save himself, gurgling with the words. "Get loose." He hissed in pain, lifting up an achy torso into an upright pose, pulling at the homemade cloth binders around his wrists and fell breathlessly back down on the sandy floor. He hissed with defeat. "Try to get loose." The knots were tight, since the cloth felt like wet rain against his limbs which was impossible to break unless the knots were cut with a sharp instrument. "Shit." He slurped with defeat. He had been kidnapped for tasting a shitty nasty hot peppered drink.

Not.

He had been kidnapped for being a billionaire, of course. Well, he could negotiate for a large money ransom. And Frank would never let him forget this foreverly, either. "Holy fucking shit." Tom croaked with pain and missed his wife Jane. She would be a widower, if this did not turn out right. Tom wished beyond wishes that they had a loving child for Jane to remember his person. "Stupid." Tom whispered. Jane whined about children like all other the wives. Frank had given into Misty without waiting for Austin. "Stupid murder investigation." Tom spat out dried mouth blood. The Quartet should not be involved here. They were fucking billionaires. The gawd damn police could do all the foot and leg work. Tom needed to be with Jane there making babies and not facing death here. He heard the footfalls coming to the closed bedroom door, exhaling with a huff of fear. "Time's up."

The door opened.

She moved inside with a grin, prissing with a sexy walk to Tom.

"I used to be pretty..." Tom slurred and gurgled with laughter from his swollen lip as he was not letting a gawd damn stupid kidnapper intimidate him, since he was a fucking billionaire and a trained warrior.

"Pretty boy..." She looked down with a set of yellow stained teeth and then reached out to touch Tom's cheekbone with her naked gawd awful smelly foot.

Tom scooted from her smelly foot with a sour frown and a croak. "Gawd. Back off, bitch."

She said with a giggle and a grin to Tom. "Not a toe sucker?" She turned and moved to the male in the archway.

Tom turned and watched the ass of the girl prissed toward the open door. He looked with a gasp to see the male inside the doorway, feeling faint recognition. The couple left the room. then, the door closed with a boom again. Tom recalled the familiar face of the guy, understanding the desire of his person and not Katt, flashing backward in time to the encounter with a young boy at sixteen years old in Miami Shores, Florida.

Fifteen years ago

City of Miami Shores

Home of Tiberius and his mom

Tom was sixteen years old, driving and dating with the permission of his father Thomas Edison Sawyer, Junior. Tom was father was a hard ass son of bitch wanting Tom to portray the same ugly façade. His dad wanted it, but his mom didn't. Thus, Tom was caught in the middle of the family debate.

Uncle Franklin had reacted and intervened with rage, angry, and fury at his non-biological brother Sawyer, Junior on more than one occasion for young Tom's behalf as Tom refused to portray the asshole persona of the Sawyer tradition like his biological father, his grandfather, and his great grandfather.

The young guy and his situation was one of these painful growing moments in Tom's short life at sixteen years old. Tom remembered the house, the boy, and the hospital and did not tattle to his non-biological brothers about the teen's sad story or the verbal catfight inside his dad's office with Uncle Franklin, that evening. Thus, the historical incident remained among the three men shrouded in deep secret as Tom closed his memory lane stroll.

Present day and place

10:40 a.m.

Beach rental of Mouse and Tiberius

Guest bedroom on Tom

Tom closed his eyelashes and rested a skull on top of the cool tile, hearing and concentrating on the voices in the next room.

"The girl?" The male voice said behind the closed door.

Tom opened his eyelids, whispering with worry. "Gawd! They're going after my wife Jane." Sawyer could not stop them, needing to tattle and signal the boys somehow. Wait! Jane and the wives were not in Miami. Stu had insisted their mates be moved to the West Palm Beach estates in the company of their overprotective elder Quartet parents for safe keeping. Stu was a genius and the second-in-command of their billion-dollar company Quartet Associates, thinking carefully about people's lives, especially their lovely ladies.

"Where's the girl?" The male said behind the closed door.

Tom gurgled. "The girl? Ah, these are some of the independent bounty hunters searching for the murderess." The datum received by the Quartet was accurate. Kattrell was hiding here in Ruby Beach via a single mysterious telephone message into the Coral Gables headquarter office with no name, no phone number, and a traceable call to a pay phone in Ruby Beach. Someone had seen Katt but did not want to be connected to the murderess case.

"Time to find her..." The female said behind the closed door. "I have a couple of more ideas but need muscle for the job."

"Smart muscle, not dumb. Let's find her and get out of here. What about him?"

"He's your problem." The female laughed behind the closed door.

The male clapped. "I've plan a grand solution for Sawyer. We need to leave immediately. I have a couple of guys for our job. They won't wait."

"Excellent work, kid. Take care of Sawyer. I'll be waiting in the car."

Tom felt the rattle of the door inside his bones too as the chairs scooted across the tile floor. He could see the knob violently twist as it slowly cracked open into his bedroom door. The door opened. Tiberius moved and stood in the archway, looking down with a wicked smirk to see Tom. "You look pale, dude. How about some color?" He walked across the room, squatting and grabbed the feet on Tom.

"No." Tom screamed, wiggling away from the unknown male. The male captured and dragged Tom over the room and to the sliding glass door, parting the doors and half-way lifted, flinging Tom outdoors into the bright hot sun. He moved and squatted, ripping off Tom's dress shirt, exposing Tom's pale white sunless chest. He jerked more cloth fabric to expose Tom's pale torso and Tom's lower legs to the deadly radiation sunrays. "Gawd! No!" Tom wiggled side to side on the hot bricked patio.

Tiberius slapped Tom's swollen cheekbone, saying with a chuckle and a smirk. "Now, be a nice boy. I'll be back later to check on you, Tommy." He stood, looking down with an evil grin, swinging around, moving back to the cool air conditioned bedroom and closed the sliding glass door. He spun around and grinned behind the glass to Tom, who was wiggling on the brick patio.

"No. Burn. Burn in the sun. Gawd. Please. No." Tom exhaled with a huff of fear from the Florida heat, the hotness, and the sunlight which was permeating immediately on his pale skin. Huge sweat balls rolled down his face from the heat. The heat expanded down to his naked chest, neck, legs, and all the exposed toe bones. "Gawd, no, look like a lobster, hurt like shit." Tom looked up with worried brow to see the male, who closed the blinds shut. Sawyer could absorb fists, bullets, clubs, and knives. The weapons cut, scratched, dull, and bruised his body. But sunlight on his pale skin with his German heritage of delicate skin burned deep, forming a layer of crisped, dried, flaked, and peeling epidermis with lots of tiny red blisters and pink pus-filled wounds, when Tom absorbed too much ultraviolet rays from the Florida beams. His body could not absorb the solar rays, turning the melanin of the skin to a brown warm tan like Austin.

10:44 a.m.

Ruby Beach Hotel

Private penthouse suite of Austin

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

"Time's up." Frank checked his wrist watch for the third time.

"The time is ten o'clock and forty-four minutes and three seconds." Stu checked the laptop clock for the fourth time, looking up with a sour frown to see Austin.

"Where is he?" Austin moved and stood in front of the window, staring at the empty highway.

Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, looking at the back spine on Austin. "You know, as well as, I."

"Check the GPS to be certain." Austin ordered with fiery as the boss of the Quartet.

Stu typed on the laptop with a nod. "The diner's four miles from here. He has his cell phone."

"Call him!" Austin ordered with fury.

Stu checked his mobile telephone with a sour frown. "Don't bother. I've called four times and left four messages. Tom's not answering his phone, ignoring his phone or..."

"...beating the shit out of these kids." Frank said with a sour frown to the back spine on Austin.

"All right, I'll go get him." Austin turned and moved into his bedroom and emerged a few minutes later, wearing a casual shirt, a pair of walking shorts, and a pair of boat shoes. He had removed his casual business attire of a turtleneck, a sports jacket, and a pair of black trousers.

Stu laughed. "Ah! I get it. Ya didn't want Tom's blood on your jacket, right?" Frank chuckled with Gage.

Austin snarled and viewed Stu, "Something like that."

Stu shook his baldness with a stern face. "I don't mean to nag. But I'm the only one allowed to beat Tom black and blue. I've been doing it, since he was two."

Austin said. "I plan to kick his ass black and blue back here. You can have the rest of him for the final bleeding."

"I object." Frank turned and frowned to Austin.

"I don't." Stu laughed, looking forward to tackling Tom in the white sands for his very private Quartet table manner's lesson.

"We need him for the upcoming serial killing mass murderess trial of two centuries. I order you not to beat him up, Stu." Frank said.

"Take out your doctor hat, Frank." Stu grinned and viewed Frank.

"The trial hasn't begun, Frank." Austin frowned to Frank.

"It could start very soon, soonest for Tom and Tom's legal brains." Frank said to protect the sleazy lawyer from injury of Stu's fists.

"We can't find the girl, Frank." Stu looked down and typed on the laptop.

Frank turned with a sour frown, jabbing a finger at Stu. "If you beat Tom, I'll have to play doctor, since Jace isn't here."

Stu looked up with a smirk to see Austin. "Ya don't have to save his life, Frank. Janey would understand."

Frank jabbed a set of fingers both Stu and Austin with a worried brow. "Janey will beat my ass black and blue with her fists, if I don't save Thomas from you. Then Gracie will beat the shit out of you for killing Tom."

Austin smiled. The Band of Sisters took good care of their husbands and his brothers.

Stu touched his fuzzy chin with a confused brow, "A vicious cycle." Tom was still getting a black and blue mark somewhere on his body, his guts, or another body part that Gracie could not see from Stu's fist imprint.

Austin ordered. "Back to business! You, two go and meet with the sheriff, the deputies, the coroner, and the local physician for getting some answers to our many questions. See if, a body or two has surfaced. This entire jaunt may be a waste of time. If we don't get answers or more hard evidence, we return to Miami tonight."

Stu raised both arms into the air with a smile. "Boom! You get my electoral vote for that." He gathered his papers and his laptop.

Frank stood upright from the chair, smoothing down his suit jacket, staring at Austin. "How long did you think to find him?"

"Hours. The rest of the damn day..." Austin turned with a sour frown to see the miles of white sands.

"You should take my car or the limo, Austin." Stu stood with a smile and a nod.

"Why, Stu?" Austin looked with a confused brow to see Gage.

"Your convertible's going to get hot driving around in this heat with sand blowing everywhere." Stu said.

Austin said. "I'll be fine."

"You'll be hot, dirty, mad, tired, and grumpy. I don't wanna be around you for the rest of the evening, Austin." Stu chuckled.

Austin smiled. "Don't worry after me, Stu. Maybe, we got really lucky. Tom found the girl. She kidnapped him. Or Tom kidnapped her. Then the two people we need are in one place and we all can go back home to Coral Beach."

Stu raised his eyebrow, the left one. "If you don't return by three p.m., I'm calling the hospital at one minute after three, then the morgue at two minutes after three."

"What for, Stu?" Frank said with a puzzled brow to the nose profile on Stu.

Stu jabbed a finger at Berrington with a furious brow. "If Austin is back here, he found Tom and killed him, violating my direct command. So I will be sending two bodies to the morgue instead of one." Stu chuckled with his brothers.

Austin raised his palm with a nod and a smile. "Okay to you, Big Man. I got it. Good luck and good hunting." He moved ahead and left the bedroom suite, using the exit door, going down the exit staircase with a whisper of fury. "Tom." Austin slammed open the exit door, moving ahead and stopped, opening the door. He slid down into his convertible sports car, folding down the roof top as the hot Florida sun and heat beat down on his face and his brow. "Damn it to hell! This is hell. Between the weather and Tom, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. Damn him!" He started the car, rolling out the parking lot to the north, where the diner was located without using the GPS devise too.

11:01 a.m.

Ruby Diner (two miles north of the hotel)

Parking lot setting

Hot temperatures with winds and clouds

Austin slowed and turned off the highway, seeing Tom's sports car in the almost empty parking lot. The rush hour for breakfast had ended at ten a.m. The lunch crowd would be gathering at eleven a.m. He stopped and parked beside Tom's car, scooting out his vehicle.

He moved and grabbed Tom's door handle as the latch popped open. "Strange! The car's unlocked." Austin turned and darted his eyelids around the open terrain, surveying for any deadly danger. The sky painted in baby blue as the ocean wind blew against his face. Austin looked up to see the flying seagulls and heard the bird squawking around the beach for their morning meal as the Gulf of Mexico waves splashed and crushed over the pure white sugary beach which was clear. His eyelids turned to see the southern direction, seeing the vague outlines of faraway commercial business buildings. He turned and scanned in the northern direction, seeing that the diner was perpendicular to the ocean beach, an empty parking lot, and a line of fruit trees on the edge of the city street.

Satisfied with the immediate quietness, Austin opened the door and searched the interior on Tom's car, finding Tom's personal possessions, including the mobile telephone, the Ghost, the tailored made suit jacket, the wallet, and the money. Tom's car keys swayed inside the engine ignition as Austin whispered with a worried brow, "Very odd. Something or someone spooked him. No. Tom saw someone." He gathered Tom's personal possessions and scooted out of the driver's seat, moving and placing all on Tom's items inside the trunk of Austin's car. He moved and locked both the cars for security. Austin turned and moved ahead towards the diner.

The door opened. The cool air conditioner from the interior of the diner hit his heated face. The door closed. Austin moved and sat to the bar stool, ordering a plate of scrambled eggs and a single piece of dry toast with a small glass of milk. The best way to get information was to be one of the gang. The waitress was not very chatty but smiled and took his order. She properly returned with a cold tumbler of sweet milk. Austin said with a smile to her. "Are the kids gone?"

The waitress said with a sour frown to Austin, "Kids?"

"The teens? They were selling the so-called fitness drink yesterday." Austin sipped on the milk, observing the elderly waitress.

"Do you have a complaint, sir?" She frowned.

"No ma'am." Austin shook his skull, sipping on the milk.

"Those people were not children more like con artists. The owner received harsh grumblings about that nasty free drink samples."

"Really?" Austin sipped the milk.

"The owner tossed them out this morning when they returned to do another con job on the customers. We have nice people around here at Ruby Beach and regular customers, who bring their families for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We don't like others bothering our regulars."

"What time?" Austin tried to accumulate information about a misplaced Tom.

"Huh!?" She sung off key as the counter bell chimed with Austin order. She turned and placed a steamy food plate in front of Austin.

He picked at the eggs with his fork. "What time did the con artists arrive this morning?"

She stared at Austin. "Nine or so. I thought you didn't have a complaint, sir."

Austin chewed and swallowed. "I do not. But my friend did. He came back this morning to see the pranksters. I hope there wasn't an incident," he ate the dry toast, studying the visual and non-visual reactions of the waitress.

The waitress shook her curls, "Quiet around here, I didn't hear any yelling or shouting."

"My friend's tall, slim with blonde hair. He's dressed in a blue business suit with a red bow tie." Austin said. If the waitress had seen Tom, she would have remembered. You could not miss him, because Tom loved his bright and vivid colors. The vivid color shined against his pale skin.

She shook her curls. "I don't remember anyone dressed like that. Everyone here wears shorts and sandals."

"Thank you. Locals!?" Austin chewed.

"Locals!?" She cleaned the counter.

"The con artists, are they local residences?"

"Local residents are nice decent folks. They were outsiders. I called the sheriff's office yesterday, but he didn't come by. He's hunting a fugitive or something. He said to chase them off our property. If they didn't leave, he'd arrest them for trespassing. The owner told them that message today. They left." She smiled, "More milk, honey?"

"No thank you." Austin fished out a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed with a smile to her. "I'll almost finish. Could you do the honors for me and keep the change?"

"Sure thing, thanks, honey," the elderly waitress said with a wink and a giggle to Austin, turning and moving to a new customer.

"You're very welcome." Austin ate the rest of his food, standing and leaving the diner.

The door opened. He moved ahead and stopped, standing in the middle of the parking lot outside in the heated morning, surveying the open terrain for a second time. The diner door closed. So, Tom had found a new lead of Kattleen Kattrell. Austin pondered about calling Frank and Stu. No! They were following up the other leads. Austin was more than capable of finding his baby brother, turning and walking on the edge of sand. The day was hot and white sand was streaming with heat. Tom would not come in this direction only liking the ocean beach with lots of protective overhead shade trees and tons of beer. The white sand contained no foot prints only a lonely long pier. No sea craft bobbed in the Gulf of Mexico either.

Austin followed the sand into the water, scanning for Tom without finding a clue. Austin turned and pivoted, walking back to the parking lot, scanning the materials over the pavement of trash of paper and cups. He marched to a line of trees near the city street. The grass margin was more sand than grass with short wheat colored sand oats that thrived between the littered trash of used plastic cups and food wrappers. He squashed the fresh fruit with the bottom of the leather on accident. Wet and leaking yellow juice and exposed seedlings fell from the limes and lemons trees, splattering across the gray parking lot as a light rain shower from the early morning had washed away some of the soft fruit for the day. He diligently hunted for more clues for Tom.

Austin spotted the car tracks which looked both fresh and new that was molded into the fruit skins and meat, staining the dark asphalt. He squatted, examining the tire marks. He was not an expert on tires, but the marks were wet almost recently smashed like the vehicle recently left the parking lot. He traced the tire marks. The car had backed out from the parking spot under the fruit tree then moved forward to the street. The fruit marks stopped as the rotten fruit guts had been wiped cleaned from the rubber tires onto the pavement.

He studied the fruit around a single tire track, kneeling down to inspect at close range. One of the splatters contained the color of red, a tiny speck. Austin pulled out and shifted the fruit with his pen knife as he was taught by his father to carry it in case of emergencies. He flipped the sharp blade under the fruit guts, picked and separated the red splotch from lime meat as the red splutter was both liquid and fluid which appeared like blood protein. "Shit!" Austin whispered, searching the pavement for more red splotchy spots, finding them splattered in a square area around the fruit. Austin picked and placed the two single red splatters from the pavement in his handkerchief. Frank could run a laboratory analysis to determine if the sample matched type A on Tom's blood. Austin desperately wanted to call his brothers, standing and returning to his car, and popped the trunk, storing his handkerchief into a paper cup. He placed the paper cup in the trunk for protection.

"The ticket!?" Austin snapped his fingers. Tom was here to see the mischievous kids from the diner yesterday, after he had consumed the nasty drink which had burned his tongue, when the con artists gave Tom the ticket for a trip to the islands in exchange for tasting the beverage. Austin searched through Tom's jacket, touching the tip of the ticket. He pulled out and examined the contents of the computer printed ticket, calling the visual telephone number on the paper.

The recorded female voice with a slight Southern accent answered the ring and instructed him to voice the details of his request at the beep. He clicked off the mobile telephone from Stu. He flipped to rear side of the ticket, seeing the tourist company as a local port in Miami. Austin dialed the Miami cruise line, talking to the nice and informative reservation clerk about the ship dock number, day, date, and year. The cruise clerk said that the data was incorrect and apologized for misprinted ticket, suggesting to Austin that he had obtained the wrong cruise line for traveling to the Bahamas. There were not any trips from their company on that particular day going to the islands. All ships left every Friday or Thursday and not on Wednesday. Austin disconnected and stored the mobile telephone in his walking shorts, pondering another important clue of mystery coupled with extreme danger for Tom.

"Damn it to hell. Tom figured it out also. Where the hell is he?" Austin whispered both sweating and worrying in the hot sun and surveyed the open terrain for a third time, spotting the partial constructed building. He moved ahead and slid down into the car, cranking the engine, driving across the street. He parked near the lumber piles, the brick stacks, the horse saws, the boxes of nails, and the boxes of light fixtures, exiting out his car, moving toward a made-shift entrance, donning a baseball cap. The new logo for Quartet Associates was designed by the one of the employees. The baseball cap was white with a small black letter 'q' which is followed by a small black letter 'a,' showing the two letters, 'qa.'

The design liked funny and won Frank's heart. Mangrove had gotten the baseball caps ordered and monogrammed for all the employees plus the Quartet. Austin would have preferred a more impressive symbol like the one you saw on guy's pickup truck of the outlined sexy girl with the 36DDs, sitting sideways in the rear window. Now, that was a symbol with meaning. Stu, Tom, and he would have voted for that baseball cap.

Austin cupped the fingers, yelling out loud at the construction worker inside a naked window. "Hey, buddy!"

One of the helmets of the construction worker popped out the window with a smile. "Yeah..."

Austin pointed to the diner with a stern face. "Did ya see a car parked at the trees across the street?"

The helmet climbed down the ladder and approached Austin, saying with a nod and a grin as other helmets shifted down the ladder and landed in the sand too. Helmet one said with a frown to Austin. "Nope!" Helmet one turned to Helmet two standing by his shoulder, pointing to the diner. "Turk, did ya see a car across the way?"

"Important?" Turk looked with a frown to Austin and did not recognize the billionaire underneath the white baseball cap.

Austin said with a smirk to the huddle of construction workers. "The wife's having an affair. The bitch rode off with the guy, this morning. So I was told. I'm looking for her."

Turk frowned. "Not him? Going to beat him up."

Austin shook his cap, laughing. "Naw. Beat her ass, first!" All the Helmets laughed and hooted with delight.

"The bitch deserves it." Turk nodded to Austin, turning with a smile to the other Helmets in the half-moon circle. "Anyone see anything across the way at the diner?"

"Hell! Saw a car. Blue compact car parked under the shade at the diner, three people." Helmet three nodded and pointed to the diner.

"Shit! Her attorney." Austin nodded with a sour frown.

Turk jabbed a finger at Austin, shaking his helmet. "Ya screwed, man. Threatening and chasing her with eyewitnesses."

"Not if, I catch them all. Ya know what I mean." Austin slammed a fist in his open palm, chuckling as the Helmets hooted and laughed. Austin said. "Did ya get a plate by chance, buddy?" He hoped for another important clue to the whereabouts on Tom and Miss Kattrell.

Helmet three pointed the trees. "Naw! Between the trees, I caught a glimpse of a girl with black hair and a short guy and a tall guy and then all them get into the car together. They headed north," pointing to the road.

Turk pointed the road too, saying with a nod and a grin. "Ruby Boulevard goes all the way to Naples, Florida. But there be some private beach houses off the roadside. Bet they might be hiding there, maybe the lawyer rents one for vacation or something," nodding to Austin.

Austin turned with a puzzled brown to see the road as his eyeballs followed the pavement to the north. "Private beach houses?" He turned with a smile to Turk, extending his hand as Turk shook the pre-offered hank and released it. Austin said with a nod. "Thanks, buddy! You've been a big help." He turned and jobbed to his car, waving to the Helmets.

Turk shouted. "Come and get us, dude. A cheating bitch deserves some pain."

Helmet one laughed. "Hope ya get the house, man."

Austin turned and stood by his car door, yelling with a grin. "Forget the house! I want the bank accounts." All the constructions Helmets laughed with a nod, turning around, shifting back into the building for their paying jobs. He whispered for his eardrums only, "Three people. A girl with long black hair, the person had to be Kattleen Kattrell and she had help, a partner. And they both have Tom. Damn it to hell." Austin slid to the seat cranking the engine, gunning the pedal, and spun the car in the direction of north to Naples, Florida. The knowledgeable construction worker had given some good advice. Katt was renting a beach house, because Austin, his brothers, and the Quartet team of soldiers occupied the only hotel in the small town of Ruby Beach searching for her.

Austin could not spend the rest of the day knocking on front doors along the sands. If he alerted Frank and Stu, they would call the entire army which would scare the bitch off. Kattrell did not know that Austin suspected them of capturing and holding Tom. Austin had to do this alone, since he was trained to do this alone while he found and rescued his brother, alone.

Austin eyeballed the shops, speeding down the roadway, viewing a food store, a hair salon, a drug store, and a beach reality and slammed the car brakes. Kattrell had used a realtor to find the beach house. Austin turned and parked the car in the parking lot, sliding out and wiping the sand from his shirt and his shorts while looking like a tramp with his scruffy beard and his dirty shirt. But he drove a nice expensive sports car, clipping Tom's mobile telephone and his issued mobile telephone from Stu to his belt. Now, Austin smiled and looked like a true businessman on vacation, seeking a slick beach house for a week or two, moving to the realtor office.

11:39 a.m.

Ruby Beach Property Reality (four miles north of the hotel)

Business office setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

The door opened. His sweaty face hit the cool air as his mind mentally promised to buy a hard top sports car, after returning back home to Miami. He whispered for his ears only. "Damn this heat and that convertible."

"Good morning, sir," the perky suntanned blonde haired lady stood and smiled, extending her hand for business. "Do you need an estate house? You look like a family man, perhaps a beach house for the winter season.

Austin shook her hand, saying with a nod and a smile, wearing the baseball cap for disguise. "Hello. I need a rental preferably a beach house north of here."

She pointed to the chair in front of her desk for Austin. He sat. She turned and pulled a book from behind the book shelf, swinging around and sitting, thumbing through the beach property listings which showed a colorful digital picture of each beach house. She looked and scanned each picture, making notes on a paper pad then and looked up with a smile to see Austin. "It seems that our beach houses are all booked solid for the next six months. I do have available some nice family rentals which are not located on the beach but near the city's parks. I'm able to offer a great steal."

Austin said with a frown. "Do you not have one with a weekly rental that expires very soon?" Kattrell was renting by the week for a quick getaway. If the Quartet was tailing Katt, then she would start packing the suitcases, eliminating Tom. Austin sweated in the cool air.

"Let me check again." She looked down and slowly turned the page in the book, and looked up with a smile to see Austin. "Well we have two cottages. One, down the road about three miles from my office is a nice two-bedrooms with two-baths and a covered carport and a newly renovated Jacuzzi, very private and romantic. The second house is about seven miles from my office, a two bedroom and two baths. I'm afraid there's no carport or any other special features."

"Seven miles is out of the city limits. Is that correct?" Austin turned with a frown to see the window in the direction of Naples.

She waved an arm, "Way out of nowhere, actually, the beach house and surrounding sands belong to a wealthy guy in Miami. He rents by the week or month. He never comes here just wants his rental check from us. If you keep driving north you hit the next town of Bonita Beach," smiling.

He turned with a smile to see her. "I'm more interested in a quite isolated place. When does the weekly rental lease for the house expire?" Austin was getting a hot flash that this was the place based on the construction worker's information as she looked down and wrote out the detailed of the beach house.

Austin would send four cases of cold beer and lunch for these guys for the rest of the week. No! Instead, he would buy the land, the building, and employ the construction men as a new division of Quartet Associate security guards. Great idea! He would tell Stu to set up the new office of Quartet Associates in Ruby Beach. The construction workers had been more help with a single conversation than the ill-mannered tobacco spitting sheriff and his deputy doggies for the past three days.

She looked up with a smile to see him. "You're a very lucky guy, sir. You can rent the place starting on Monday. We set the leases from Monday to Sunday to give the lessee time to clean the place and get out. Payment must be received before you can move in. There isn't any furniture in this particular cottage. The nicer cottage has two bedroom sets, a couch, and a dining room with four chairs, television plasma, bed linens, and a pantry of eating dishes. This one only offers the floor space. You must provide dishes, towels, chairs, tables, bed, etc., etc...."

"You must not rent the place often." Austin chuckled.

"Actually, more than you think, mostly to college students whose parents pay the full rental fee, the decoration fee, the application fee, the management fees, the damage fees. The kids want to load ten to fifteen friends into the rooms with sleeping bags and hammocks for the sun and the fun. No harm really. We charge an arm and a leg for the rental. If the property is damaged you pay the property, the attorney fees, the court fees, and the other legal fees. Do you have kids, sir?"

"My wife and I for a short trip, I have business in Naples, next week."

She smiled. "This is excellent timing for you and your wife. You'll take the rental then?"

"Yes. It is. May I pay with cash?"

"Yes sir, of course, cash or credit or check of four thousand dollars even."

Austin stood. "I have the bills in the car. Excuse me for a moment," he pivoted and left the building, moving to his car. He popped the trunk, scooting the scuba equipment and guns away from the object, dialing the numbers on the tiny metal safe which was built into the side of the car with extra cash for such-like emergencies. "I'm single handedly tracking a cold-blooded serial killing mass murderess," chuckling. "Gawd, I sound like Tom." Austin tried to swallow the dry salvia back down his throat, praying to see Tom's smiling face and hearing his obnoxious mouth, soonest. This was the right place. He counted out five thousand dollars. Give her tip. He was a very rich business man, turning and moving back to the building.

He entered and rested the stack of cash on the desk. She reached down and grabbed, counting the money stack, looking up with a shocked brow to see him. "There is five thousand dollars here."

Austin smiled to her. "The tip is for you. You have been wonderful locating a beach house for my wife and me on such short notice. I really appreciate your time and patience in this personal and private matter."

She blushed. "Thank you."

Austin rapped his knuckles on the desk. "Do I fill out the paperwork here?"

She handed him an object with a smile and a nod. "Don't worry about it. I will add your two weeks to the current resident. They are leaving on Sunday. The owner gets his money. The house is rented. And here is an extra key. It opens both the front and back door. Don't tell anyone. I'll get old key from the occupants on Sunday afternoon when they leave. Sh." She rushed a finger to the lips as Austin nodded. She smiled. "That is our little secret. You look like the trusting type." Austin turned and left the building, sliding back into his car for the rescue of his baby brother annoying ass Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

12:09 p.m.

Beach house rental of Mouse and Tiberius (ten miles north from the hotel)

Bedroom setting

Hot temperatures with winds and bright sunshine

"Damn this convertible." Austin sweated and sped out the shopping mall as the road showed miles of sand along the Gulf of Mexico on the west and golden wheat colored sea oats on the east along the edge of the green and lush Everglades. He counted the mileage marker at three miles, approaching a two story cottage with a covered carport, seeing a white car. He pressed the gas pedal, speeding to the rental beach house of Kattrell, who was holding Tom. The road showed miles of gray pavement and white sand and a second cottage. Austin slowed without stopping, rolling down the window for a clear view and did not see a carport, staring at the white cottage and missing the blue car, and pondered the next move. Austin would knock on the front door, asking for directions, since he was lost. No. He would shoot down the front door.

Nope. He would use the key to open the front door as they would be expecting his company for the rescue of his baby brother Tom. He would sneak around the back of house, opening the door with the key.

Yes. Austin slowed the car and turned around, driving to the cottage. He could call Stu and Frank for help, but he did not have time. He was too close and could not miss this opportunity to capture Kattrell and save Tom. If Tom was dead, Austin would strangle that fucking bitch with his bare hands. No legal trial. She would be dead as her soul flew down to fucking hell, swiftly.

Austin turned and drove over the sea shell driveway, appearing innocent rather than sneaky, since there were no caves or buildings or structures to be sneaky. He stopped the car, killing the engine, sitting inside the hot car, and shoved his Ghost in the side pocket of his walking shorts, noting that no one had opened the front door of the house. Austin slid out the car, slamming the door with a boom, strolling to the front door and stopped, standing and listening with both his eyeballs and his eardrums. He beat the painted wood to death with three knocks. No response. Austin pulled out and held the house key in a left hand with his shooting hand thumbing on the smooth metal of his Ghost inside the pocket. He back stepped, staring at the open windows and not seeing a smile or a frown from a human face. He back stepped off the front porch, turning and moving to the back yard, stopped at the back door, standing and listening with his eyeballs and his eardrums again. Silence! The back door did not crack open. The cloth blinds did not move.

He reached and inserted the key into the lock with a click as the back door silently cracked open. Austin listened and heard more silence, carefully stepping over the floor with his Ghost in the pocket, scanning the kitchen space.

The beach house was both hot and heated in temperature without any noise but the running air conditioning system as an array of shitty smells assaulted his nostrils from the stinky cooking and greasy odors which bombarded the counters and the walls of the dirty kitchen. Paper papers, paper cups, and paper towels, and other dirty discharged items littered the kitchen counter tops and the floor with both fresh and spoiled foods, consisting of hamburgers, chicken, potatoes, cookies, melting ice cream, and opened bottles of varied assorted type of sodas. Austin carefully closed the back door and scurried out the kitchen, moving down an empty hallway, seeing a room on his right with the closed front door of the cottage. The room contained two cheap orange colored beach lounge chairs which used for sitting or maybe sleeping. The floor held a couple of scattered bed sheets and pillows as Austin slowly moved down the empty hallway.

He passed the bathroom with more disgusting odors and smells. So she was both a pig and a slob. Austin reached a side door on his left, turning the knob slowly which was not locked. The bedroom faced the Gulf of Mexico as Austin swung the door open with a free hand, holding his Ghost up and high near a nose in his right shooting fist, readying for anything an attack, a person, a disturbance, or a killer. Austin stood inside the archway, seeing four empty walls and tons of loose sand particles over the floor. The room was empty. He saw the ocean waves that washed over the sandy shoreline through a set of the sliding glass door as the Florida sun reflected off the bricked patio. The yellow heat danced playfully over the brick and launched up in the blue sky on a hot and heated day in Ruby Beach. Austin gingerly stepped around the plain bedroom, noting the walls were newly painted white and bare without a picture. College kids did not appreciate art, only the cold beer bottle and the hot sunshine rays. The room was devoid of furniture even a bright orange lounge chair. He strutted to the sliding door, staring out at the patio with miles of white sands and miles of bluish-green ocean water.

Austin pivoted to the bedroom door, seeing a set of partially opened closet doors, displaying a white suitcase on the tile and moved to the door, observing each molecule in the room and halted. And then, the suitcase breathed in and out. Austin rushed and moved to the wardrobe closet, slamming the doors open, kneecapping beside the person. He flipped the human over and onto his back spine, dropping his Ghost down to the floor, seeing Tom. Austin recognized his pale tall form which was folded in a ball with blonde hair. Tom was blindfolded by a set of dirty white cloths. Austin gently removed the cloth, seeing a set of blue bruises and pink cuts on Tom's body.

Tom's lip was split not blooding. He had a black left eye socket and a series of two pink cuts across his cheekbone and his nose bridge. Both his wrists and his ankles were tied with pieces of blue fabric. Tom was not wearing his watch and his wedding band. His dress shirt was ripped open, exposing Tom's naked chest and shoulders. His dress shirt tails were smeared with red blood, green key lime fruit juice, and white sand. The cloth bands around Tom's arms were ripped from his dress shirt. The blue trousers were torn at his kneecaps, exposing Tom's pale skinny legs and ankles which were tied with his trouser shreds too. And Tom was barefooted.

"Tom." Austin leaned in the eardrum on Tom with a soft whisper.

Tom parted the lips, hearing the familiar baritone of his big brother with a soft groan. "A..." Austin bent closer, hovering protectively over Tom. Tom was both dazed and terribly sunburned, since he was roasted like a lobster in the Florida sun without any skin sunscreen covering his German breeding. His face, arms, chest cavity, and lower legs below the knees and down to his toes were pink turning darker.

"Tom." Austin whispered, pulling Tom to his body to tote his baby brother back into the car for immediately medical treatment by Frank.

Tom tried to open his burnt eyelids with a soft moan, "A..."

The eardrums heard the sound, before the ache registered in his brain cells. Then Austin felt the powerful blow to his skull as his brain became dizzy. The walls spin around and around in his eye sight. The room grew dark as the sun faded from Austin's eyeballs. He closed his eyelashes, feeling the hot liquid trail down his neck to his back spine, sliding his body sideways beside Tom. And then, Austin hit the tile floor with a thump of unconsciousness.

12:47 p.m.

Master bedroom of Mouse and Tiberius setting

"Excellent." Mouse turned and moved, entering the living room with a nod and a grin, after leaving a bloody and sleepy Austin on top of the sandy floor in the guest bedroom beside the other troublemaker.

Muscle man one said with a nod and a grin to Mouse. "Found her!" He cuddled Katt against his chest as she struggled to escape from his tight grip.

"The muscle found her at tiny beach house down south." Tiberius jabbed a finger with a smile at Katt.

"No! Let me go! Let go! No!" Katt yelled out loud with a worried brow and tried to pull away from the muscle man one.

Mouse stared at Katt but saw only the 150-million-dollar bounty reward, saying with a sneer. "Shut up, bitch!"

Tiberius turned and moved ahead down the hallway with a grin. "Follow me! Take her to the master bedroom for safe keeping."

Mouse turned and rushed behind the two muscle men that drag Katt down the hallway as Katt wiggled and yelled in a series of violent sessions. Mouse entered and stood near the wall, pointing down to the crude equipment set up with her order and a smirk. "Chain her to the wall." Muscle man one grabbed and clipped a heavy chain around Katt's ankle as Muscle man two held her body against the wall. Katt wore a baby blue skirt and a matching blouse without a pair of shoes. The two muscle men finished their task, turning with a smile and a nod to see Mouse. Mouse sneered at Katt. "Sit down and behave, girl." She looked up with a smile to see the two unknown males. "Excellent work, gentlemen. I have a very special reward for the both of you."

"How did you find her?" Tiberius stared at Katt but saw the 150-million-dollar bounty reward which would be in his bank account, this afternoon.

Muscle man one thumbed his buddy, saying with a grin and a nod. "Yesterday, we split up and trailed a smaller group of cops who were scurrying the outlining areas beyond the city limits of Ruby Beach out in the boondocks, sorta speaking."

"Yeah." Muscle man two said with a nod and a grin.

"The sheriff and his stupid doggies are inside the city going door to door, searching and asking questions. They'd find her easy, if she was there." Muscle man one said.

Muscle man two said. "The smaller groups got the shitty task of inspecting all the beach property which stretches for miles and miles in the hot heated weather. I took south while my smart pal Dvon took north geographical direction between Ruby Beach."

Dvon nodded. "The dumb shits entered the house with the search warrant, found nothing, and left. I would mark the address and the name off in the telephone book along with voting registration list that included all ages of the folks here in Ruby Beach. Then I used binoculars and watched the cops greet the person. Old. Cross off. Man. Cross off. Woman. Second look."

Muscle man two nodded. "The group headed south, starting at seven am, knocking, searching, talking, and leaving every single beach house. Around two p.m. the cops went to her place. They knocked, searched, and left. I noticed a female with the same description that you had provided with long black hair, short, cute, blue outfit, and southern accent. Well damn. If this little girl has long black hair, short, cute..." He turned and winked to Katt. Katt sat on the floor and jerked on the heavy chains, listening also.

Dvon turned and nodded to Mouse. "And she was wearing baby blue. Her skin's dark brown, not pale. Drove up. Knocked. She answered smiling and nice like. Told with the group of cops and needed a phone. My cell went out. She spoke in a southern accent, telling me no phone, but she could loan of use of her bike. The bitch showed me the bike in the garage. Knew she was the one for the 150-million-dollar reward. Stupid dipshits. The girl was right in front of their eyes. Grabbed her and tied her up. She yelled but ain't no one on the beach. Searched her purse and found this," he handed the item to Mouse.

Mouse read out loud for all eardrums. "The Florida driver license of the one and only and original Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell," she said with a giggle and a grin to Katt, seeing only the 150-million-dollar reward. Katt continued to jerk on the chains, listening too.

"You guys are smart and will be rich very soon." Tiberius clapped with a nod and a grin, staring at the 150-million-dollar reward for Katt.

Dvon thumbed over his collar bone to Katt with a nod and a grin. "Turn her in now..."

"Not a good idea!" Mouse moved and encircled the two males, pulling out a hypo needle of scorpion venom from her open purse, hiding the hypo between the bent spaces of the elbow and dropped it in her cupped palm. She stopped and smiled to the first male. "Wonder if, the cops remembered that they had visited her beach house first, then they would land claim that they saw her, before you. And then they were waiting around and spying or monitoring or doing their so-called police and staking out or something on her. Then they'll get to claim the money first." She slowly nodded with a sour frown.

"Good thinking!" Dvon elbowed his buddy, nodding with a grin to Mouse.

Mouse nodded with a grin. "We wait until tomorrow morning when the posse is gathered at the police station for their law meetings. Then we stomp inside with the girl in tow. No one can claim nothing against us."

"Good plan! We don't wanna share 150 million dollars with no body." Tiberius said with a nod and a grin, staring at the 150-million-dollar reward for Katt.

"Fuck that, just us, four." Muscle man two elbowed back his buddy, nodding with a grin to Mouse.

Mouse thumbed over her collar bone to the doorway. "Ya guys, take the sports car in the driveway and park it at the hotel parking lot and leave..."

"We'll take care of it ourselves," Dvon cracked his knuckles with a pop, laughing with his buddy.

Mouse jabbed a finger at Dvon with a sour frown. "Don't! Follow my instructions. Take it to hotel, park it near the beach. It's hot. Or the police'll track you down. Then we, four didn't get the money, kid," she turned with a sour frown to see Tiberius. "Go with them, Tiberius. Take all of our cars to her beach house and get all her stuff. We don't want the police finding out that she was there and claiming something against us. And make it look like a burglar..."

Dvon nodded with a grin to Mouse. "Man. Your woman thinks of everything."

Tiberius moved and hugged Mouse, saying with a nod and a grin to her nose profile. "My woman's smart. She planned this whole thing. Now we all retire in style."

"Fuck so." Muscle man two laughed with a nod.

"Let's go guys." Tiberius released Mouse, turning and moving to the archway as the two muscle men followed behind him.

Mouse swung around to the men, raising her palm, saying with a whisper. "Wait!" The men spun with a sour frown to her. She moved ahead towards them, reaching up, touching the neck of each muscle man with a set of naked finger tips with a whisper and a smile. "I want to thank you and give your special reward." Dvon frowned as Mouse rose on her tippy toes, drawing the money from her free hand, whispering. "For you," she landed a wad of cash in his open palm, smearing live scorpion toxin along his finger pads with her sweaty palm. Muscle man two extended his palm for the cash too as Mouse placed a wad of money, smearing the scorpion toxin over his finger pads also.

"Don't want your money, girl!" Dvon looked down with a sour frown to see the cash.

"Done!" Mouse said with a giggle and a grin of yellow teeth. "Come back here, after you dump the car and get her possessions. And you should stay with us, so we all can go to the police, tomorrow morning," she back stepped, flipping her stringy black colored hair in a sexy prim, whispering with a smile. "Bring back some burgers. That's what the money's for," she said with a giggle and a wink to Dvon.

"Sure thing!" Muscle man two placed his wad of money in his jeans, nodding with a smile to Mouse.

"One more thing! Said thank you to the nice gentlemen, kid." Mouse pirouetted with a smile to Katt. Katt stood against the wall, tugging on the heavy chain attached to her ankle, looking up with a sour frown, narrowing her eyelashes at Mouse. Mouse shoved Dvon to Katt first, whispering with a smile. "Touch his face, kid." Muscle man two followed his buddy, pulling up beside him in front of Katt. Katt exhaled with a puff of frustration and obeyed the bitch, reaching and touching her dirty fingers to his face and touched muscle man two also.

Tiberius swung to the archway with a yell and a sour frown. "Come on, guys! Get the possessions and the burgers. I'm hungry," he moved out the room as the two muscle men followed behind, elbowing and laughing with each other. Katt exhaled with a puff of frustration, sitting on the floor, touching the heavy chain, and tried to figure out how to escape.

Mouse stared at Katt, who glowed not from her angry but from her suntan. Mouse had forgotten that Katt was Indian-made as Katt's pale skin from four days ago glowed in a tone of bright gold with a delicate pink undertone. Mouse had learned that Katt's coloring was an aftereffect of bilirubin enzyme inside her unique chemical body which contributed to a pinky-golden healthy fit. Mouse did not look like Katt's twin either as she possessed a sickly dark yellow complexion from the numerous tail stings while killing the live scorpion and then extracting the rich toxin for her deadly revenge against the sick patients at all the Charity Hospitals in South Florida. She was lucky that the rare and deadly Deathstalker scorpion was highly commercialized, since mentally unstable sick folks liked collecting the dangerous baby creatures. The scorpions were hardy captives and liked to eat crickets, but they tended to be a nervous and aggressive species while trying to kill without damaging the poison sacs. Lucky for Mouse, she was immune to its deadly toxin compound, since she had been injecting her body with the minimum dosage to maintain her life form. The scorpion stings had a very set of serious consequences beyond the obvious risks of injury, death or the yellow tinting of human skin.

Her skin tone had yellowed more than usual as she had depleted her current stock of fish oil that kept the scorpion venom in check during the absorption process of Mouse's finger pads. She used her fingers to attack all the sick patients at all the Charity Hospital, following Katt around the nursing wards for her volunteer work. Mouse was both out of money and out of time as the scorpion venom ate away at her skin, stomach, liver, lungs and her delicate other body parts. Her teeth were stained yellow with her fingernails and toenails. Tiberius was so sweet and did not ask about her delicate medical condition, since he was dazed with the miles of white sands, his diminishing bank account, and the capture of Sawyer.

In their youth, Katt had lived in the city of Boyer, riding her bicycle to the Boyer Library on Saturdays and Sundays and was home schooled by Mrs. Oldford during the weekday. Katt did not attend Boyer High School with the Hartmann children, who were all the real half-sisters and half-brothers of Mouse.

Mouse leaned against the wall, saying with a grin and a nod to her. "Hello, Katt!"

Katt stopped yanking on the chain, looking up with a sour frown to see the unfamiliar face. "Who are you?"

"Do I not look familiar to you?" Mouse swirled around in a circle and stopped, laughing.

Katt frowned. "You talk with a southern accent and remind of a girl that I knew a long time ago. But you have all the wrong features except for the face."

"Allow me to re-introduce myself, Mouse."

Katt laughed at her old neighbor. "You are Nell Nan Hartmann. Sister, you need a new makeup artist, a hair stylist, a seamstress, and a bath. You smell to the heavens, girlfriend."

"What arrogance?" Nell parted her lips with a sour frown.

Katt smiled with a nod. "I have matured over the years. Work, job, and money have wonderful advantages over poverty, illness, and death."

Nell chuckled, sitting in a crossed-legged pose on the floor. "Very profound! I have to remember that one, kid."

"Be my guest." Katt rubbed her sore ankle, where the chain sawed it with a raw wound.

Mouse smirked. "You're not dumb, Katt. You know why you're here, kid."

"Of course, stupid. The bounty..." Katt rubbed her face, leaning to the wall, exhaling with a puff of annoyance.

"You killed..."

Katt gasped. "I did not. I killed no one. I'm innocent."

"Of course, you are. So hiding out from the police proves your innocence. Hell. The entire State of Florida is looking for your skinny ass."

"Based on the current description of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell you fit the bill, honey. You should be very careful. Someone might think us twins." Katt stared at Nell who possessed a head of bottle covered black hair and a tone of yellow tinted skin and did not look like Katt.

"Clever. Changing the subject."

"What subject?" Katt grinned.

"Murderer of 8,063 souls."

"I will repeat this loud and clear. I did not."

Nell smirked. "Running from the Feds doesn't make you look truthful."

"I'm not running. I have relocated."

"I saw your relocation, kid," she laughed.

"What are you referring, Nell?" Katt frowned.

"I saw the car accident. I was tailing you that day on I-95."

"You sent the cars after me. Why, Nell?"

"Why? Good Gawd. The question, how did you survive that crash, explosion, and fire? Ya gots nine lives or something?" Nell laughed.

"Kitty cats have more than nine lives. Why did you try to take one of them?"

Nell chuckled. "I wasn't trying to kill you. I was trying to capture your fleeing ass."

"Why would you do that nasty thing? I wasn't under suspicious. I wasn't wanted as a fugitive. I'm not a fugitive. They have the wrong girl."

"You, Indian Princess are being investigated by the Quartet. You do know Austin Berrington, Tom Sawyer, Stu Gage, and Frank Mangrove. What they represent?"

"I do. So what?"

"They asked questions and came up with your name, kid."

Katt shook her curls. "How so? You're not making any sense, Nell. I didn't kill anybody. I'm innocent. This entire manhunt is ridicule."

"How did you know that they were investigating your person? How did you know to run?"

"I worked at Charity Hospital where the murders were occurring. Everyone was scared. Everyone wanted to quit."

"Ah. So you quit!" Nell grinned.

"I collected my paycheck, my pension. I left my job."

"Why not get another job in Miami? You have work experience."

Katt exhaled with a puff of frustration. "Once I learned that they were investigating Boyer, Florida, my birth home. And once I had learned that they were calling our town, the home of the murderer. I decided to leave Miami. I'm from Boyer. Our town's small. I worked at Charity Hospital, the murdering site. I was there when the child was discovered dead that morning. The workers talked and gossiped about a murderer who was roaming the hallways at night and maybe during the day, too. Then the newspaper reporter got killed in a hospital bed on one of the nursing wards as a pretend sick patient. My co-workers talked about capturing the murderer, torturing and killing him slow and painfully. So I would become a suspect, immediately, because someone might find out that I was born in Boyer, Florida. I worked at Charity Hospital. I volunteered on the oncology ward, where the boy was murdered. I am a common factor. So I became frightened. I didn't want to be questioned. I definitely didn't kill anyone. Someone did."

"Someone did. But you left clues, kid." Nell nodded.

"What clues, Nell?" Katt frowned.

"You emptied your bank account."

"So what?"

"Not smart, Indian Princess..."

"Stop calling me that name."

"How much did you empty, kid?"

"A nice sum."

"How much, kid?"

"Why, Nell?"

"I might can help you."

"Doubt it. Since I'm chained to a wall by you." Katt lifted and dropped the irons with a thud.

"How much?"

"Three hundred thousand dollars plus some coinage." Katt stared at her chains.

"A nice sum, indeed. That was a dumb idea, kid."

She looked up with a sour frown to see Nell. "What? Why, Nell?"

"Emptying the bank account, breaking the lease."

"The lease had to be broken so I could move. I'm not rich."

"Breaking the lease, moving your possessions like a thief at night."

"You're correct. I moved my things at night. But how? You...you broke into my apartment that night." Katt parted her lips, narrowing her eyelashes.

"You're catching on, kid." Nell grinned.

"Why, Nell?"

Nell looked up with a frown to see the ceiling. "Let's see. Emptying the bank account, breaking the lease, moving all your things at night." She looked down with a grin to see Katt. "You must've paid cash for the beach rental house. I know. I did that too. The real estate lady loves her fine jewelry."

"I didn't want to be traced with bank accounts and cashed checks. The owner wouldn't have rented me the beach house, without cash on the spot." Katt frowned.

"Money is the root of all evil, kid."

"Only when used for evil purposes."

"What do thieves say?" Nell grinned.

"There is not a law in the United States claiming that I have to have a checking account in a bank."

"Most honest people work for a living and need a checking to float their hard earned money until next payday."

"You're insulting, not helping me."

"I'm merely pointing out all your mistakes, kid."

"How does that help me?"

"Allow me to continue, kid."

"Fine." Katt raises her arms, slapping her legs.

"Quit job, empty account, break lease, lots of cash, secret lair, and then the car. Ya didn't, kid?" Nell chuckled.

"Didn't what?" Katt frowned.

"Little-miss-goody-two-shoes did not fib now?" Nell smiled.

"Fib!?"

"You crashed a fifty thousand sports car. Damn nice vehicle. I bet the farm. You cancelled the car insurance the month before. What's the point of car insurance with a wrecked car? Right? You reported it stolen." Nell nodded.

Katt blushed, viewing her chains, looking up to see Nell. "You're very good at this. Are you are police officer? Is that why you captured me?"

"No."

"A lawyer?"

"No. I'm an avenging angel." Nell grinned.

"A what?" Katt frowned.

"And you are the angel of death, kid." Nell jabbed a finger at Katt.

"No." Katt shook her curls.

"Don't sweat it? The angel of death is a good angel." Nell winked.

"Good angel?" Katt frowned.

"Didn't you read your Bible, Indian Princess?"

"Yes."

"The angel was created in heaven by God from Genesis 35, paragraph eighteen. God granted her death over life basically anytime, anywhere, anyone. Please see Exodus 38, paragraph one." Nell smiled.

"What do these Bible verses mean? I don't understand, Nell." Katt frowned.

"You kill, get even, retaliate, punish, even the score, get you back, Jack..."

"I am not the angel of death." Katt crossed her arms with a frown.

"I can prove it, Indian Princess."

"Don't call me that?"

"Indian Princess or the Angel of Death? Which one, kid?" Nell smiled.

"Neither."

"Whatever? Are you interested in how you acquired your nickname, kid?"

"My nickname is Katt."

"I mean the angel of death one for the 150 million dollars." Nell nodded.

"I am not the Angel of Death."

Nell raised her palms. "Okay. Okay. Do you wanna know why the Quartet is after your skinny tanned hind?"

Katt nodded. "That would interest me."

"Simply biology."

"Biology, in what way?" Katt frowned.

"Your biology test."

"What biology test? You're not making any sense, Nell."

"Allow me to fill in the missing blanks on your biology test."

"What does that weird statement mean, Nell?" Katt frowned.

"You killed the old farts at Boyer Nursing Home." Nell smiled.

Katt shook her curls and her hands. "No, Nell. They died of different diagnoses like heart attacks, strokes, and terminal illnesses. You're wrong. You can't prove anything. I'm innocent then and now."

"King Henry..."

"King Henry?" Katt frowned.

"Matthew Adams Hartmann, VIII."

"Your father?" Katt said.

"King Henry...."

"Why do you reference your father as King Henry?" Katt said with a puzzled brow.

"He...he has a nickname like you and me."

"O."

"Henry..." Nell could not call that man, her father. Henry was not her real father but her lover. "...discovered by accident your bilirubin levels."

"Bilirubin?" Katt said with a confused brow.

"The liver gets rid of all the poisons in the human body like a garbage can. The chemical in your liver breaks down the poison is called the bilirubin. When the bilirubin cannot break down the poison, it increases in higher levels. Then the bilirubin is stored in the liver. Your gifted bilirubin can break down a poison three times faster than a normal healthy adult. I learned all this medical information from your biology test."

"You mentioned that before. What does that mean?" Katt frowned.

"When you worked for Henry at his nursing home, you filled the drug prescription bottles, kid."

"I did." Katt nodded.

"Ah. But you also collected the reading materials from the old farts before bed time like Henry instructed."

"He asked me to check on each person and remove any items inside their bed."

"You touched them on the hand, an arm, or lightly on the face."

"I touched them. Your father mentioned that they needed to feel secure."

"Did you notice the temperature of the nursing home hospital rooms?"

"Of course, they complained of the heat. I told your father. The rooms inside the entire nursing home were very hot and heated during the evenings, when I worked at night."

"Ya got hot."

"Yes. I sweated."

"Especially on your hands..."

"My hands sweat when I perspire. Yes." Katt said with a nod and a puzzled brow.

"Ah, the clue." Nell laughed and clapped.

"What clue, Nell?" Katt exhaled with a puff of frustration.

"On your first night of working, you used your bare hands to count the drug pills of medication and then placed them inside each pill bottle," Nell told the information, after reading it from one of Wingo's medical journals that Henry stored inside the metal safe with the bags of money. "The nursing home was having problems with the ventilation system, no air conditioning."

"Your father mentioned that and insisted that I had to work and complete my duties for the night."

"You finished your work but not before checking on some of the old farts." Nell nodded.

"I removed the reading books from three of the rooms before I was driven home by Mr. Hartmann." Katt nodded.

"Well, all those old farts died the next day. Did you know that, kid?" Nell grinned.

"When I came back to work, I heard the gossip. I didn't inquire about the deaths. The people were very old and very sick. The elderly hospital beds turned over rapidly with dying patients, your father told me."

"Ah. Another clue," Nell laughed and clapped.

"What clue, Nell?" Katt said with a puzzled brow.

"Henry discovered the three bodies, the next morning, himself. He was very worried and concerned about lawsuits of neglect and abuse at the Boyer Nursing Home. So he ordered laboratory and blood tests on the dead patients. That is common for any type of mysterious death. However, he did not use a common laboratory. He used his side kick, a greedy selfish corrupt immoral physician, who happens to be very smart..."

"...unlike you." Katt smiled.

Nell frowned. "When the lab tests came back, the bilirubin inside the victim's bodies had multiplied by three fold. Henry became very worried. Food poisoning? Improper medications? Lawsuits? He ordered more tests on every employee at the nursing home."

Katt nodded. "I remembered being asked to give blood for work that week."

"Ah. Another clue," Nell laughed and clapped.

"What clue, Nell?" Katt said with a confused brow.

"Once all the employees had been tested, your biological tests stood out regarding your bilirubin. You possessed three times the normal range of a mature adult."

"I don't believe you. Where are these so-called laboratory tests?"

"I have them. I can show you." Nell was telling the medical information, after she had read the medical journals from Dr. Wingo, but she burned all the hard manuals and implemented the 8,063 murders instead of Katt.

"Forget it. I'll conduct my own lab tests. I'll see my own physician." Katt rubbed her sore ankle.

"Henry figured it out when you handled all the different drug medications and your skin absorbed the toxins. Your biological body reacted, attacking the poisons in your biological system and sent it to your liver for removal. However, the liver did not remove the toxin, instead your body increased amounts of bilirubin. Your liver produces bilirubin three times the normal level on its own without harm to you or anyone else. Thus, you can..."

"I am not the killer of 8,063 souls, Nell." Katt looked up with a sour frown to see her.

"Except, when you are hot and heated, your body temperature is higher than the regular body temperature of 98.6 degrees."

Katt shook her curls. "The next week, I worked inside the patient's hospital rooms at the nursing home, but it was very cold in the air temperature. So your working theory is not working," she smiled.

"Then you counted the pills and touched the patients again." Nell said.

"My job and your father told me to calm all the elderly patients."

"No one died that week during the cold spell of the air conditioned room, kid." Nell smiled.

"Your evidence is completely faulty. Your theory is totally ridiculous. I am not the killer of 8,063 souls in Miami or the terrible deaths of the elderly patients at the Boyer Nursing Home."

"When your body is heated, your hands sweat, producing salt and toxins from your liver. I have the paper lab results, kid. The toxin level is very low in your biological body. When combined with the touching a host of dry prescription drugs plus your bare hands, you are a walking scorpion, stinging people with your deadly touch. So normal people absorb your toxins in their healthy biological bodies. However, normal people do not have your magic liver. Thus, normal people cannot rid themselves of your poisons. Each old elderly fart spasm, jolted, and then died from medical suffocation n seconds..."

"No." Katt lifted and banged the chain on the floor with her frustration.

"Calm down, kid." Nell grinned.

"If you know all this terrible information, then why didn't you tell your father or the authorities?"

"Hell. Henry made a fortune off you."

"What!?" Katt parted her lips.

"When an old fart died, before the month ended, Henry got paid for the entire month plus the death expense. He received about five million dollars about ten years ago."

"These were the years that I worked for him." Katt said.

"And the sleazy doctor got rich too. Henry paid him over the table and under the table to keep his mouth shut. The bastard's fishing in Perdido Key as we speak enjoying his last days on Earth."

"He's ill?"

"No, kid. He's rich and old about seventy or so with nothing to do but fish and wait for death."

Katt said. "I see."

Nell grinned. "There's more that you don't see, kid."

"More?" Katt parted the lips.

"The avenging angel is my part in the play." Nell smiled.

"Your part?" Katt frowned.

"I don't hate you because you killed a bunch of old farts."

"Stop saying that."

"It's the truth, kid. I hate you, because Henry wanted you."

"Wanted me?" Katt frowned.

"Were you ever curious about Boyer, Florida?"

"It's my birth place. I found times were fun and were difficult for me in Boyer. I have chosen not to remember the bad times." Katt said.

"Everyone had the same last name. Don't ya notice?" Nell frowned.

"Of course, I did. As I got older, I figured it was strange. I asked Dokey. She simply said that all of you were kin in some manner."

"Kissing cousins, well, we were a little more than kissing cousins. We were all brothers and sisters."

"Brothers and sisters!?" Katt said with a confused brow.

"Henry wasn't my pa. He was my..." Nell did not offer a detailed explanation. Katt did not know what the Hartmann families did for fun times together. She wasn't a part of that sick world of whores, fags, and lesbians. Nell whispered for her eardrums only, "Forget it..."

"I don't understand any of your explanations, Nell." Katt frowned.

"In Boyer, Florida the tradition for girls at fifteen was to get inducted. I got inducted..." she exhaled with a puff of pain. "When a Hartmann baby is born in the hospital, the baby is given to a Hartmann couple who is not their real biological parents. So my father wasn't really Matthew Adams Hartmann, VII. I didn't know my real parents," she looked down to see her hands, exhaling with a puff of regret.

"I'm sorry, Nell. And Henrietta!?" Katt asked.

"Wasn't my ma, either..."

"I'm truly sorry, Nell." Katt said with tender feelings.

Nell looked up with a lady sneer to see her. "Don't be? I ain't looking for pity. At the sweet age of sixteen, I received a car and confirmed. Seventeen, I was betrothed to Brad."

"I remember Brad." Katt smiled.

"The day before my birthday of eighteen, I got a very special present. I will never forget at midnight." Nell sobbed and recalled all the Boyer man-folk. "At age eighteen, I was to be married to Brad. He was living at the USA military base in the foreign country of Germany. I'd move and leave from Boyer for the rest of my life. Instead, Brad was killed on New Year's Day from a hidden terrorist bomb at the USA Embassy. Then Henry told me to get out of his house," she looked down to see her hand, exhaling with a puff of pain.

"Sorry." Katt said with more tender feelings.

Nell looked up with sour frown to see Katt. "Shut up. I left Boyer, moving to Germany, getting a cashier's job, and making a living. Henrietta wrote me letters. She wrote about you."

"Me!" Katt dropped her mouth.

"Ma told me that Dokey was dying."

"Dokey was very sick with cancer." Katt nodded.

"Ma told me you get a computer certificate."

"Mr. Moore helped me pass the computer test. I received a computer certificate."

"Ma told me that you graduated High School."

"Mrs. Oldford helped me study. I passed the standardized tests and received my high school diploma."

"Ma told me that you left town."

"Mr. Moore helped me get a job in Miami at one of the Charity Hospitals."

"Ma told me that Henry was going to adopt you."

"I was only seventeen. Mr. Hartmann told the judge that I needed a guardian. But Sheriff Matt disagreed with Mr. Hartmann." Katt smiled.

"Matt?" Nell gasped.

"Sheriff Matt offered to drive me to the airport when I received my new job in Miami, Florida."

"You were only seventeen, kid." Nell frowned.

"Sheriff Matt arranged for me to get my Florida driver's license with the wrong year, showing me as a year older."

Nell laughed. "Damn, another mistake?"

"Mistake?"

"Think, kid. Did you correct that mistake on your driver's license after getting into Miami?"

"No."

"Killer, cheater, thief, imposter. They'll hang ya higher than the moon, kid." Nell chuckled.

"I didn't kill anyone."

"Whatever, kid. So you didn't want to be adopted by Henry."

"Of course not."

"But he wanted you. He wanted you living in his house."

"The judge signed the legal court papers. I was to live with him and Mrs. Hartmann while I worked at the nursing home until I was eighteen years old."

"You know Henry died." Nell smiled.

"No." Katt shook her curls.

"Don't you keep up with news from Boyer, Florida?"

"I do not."

"Not lately, I guess." Nell smiled with her evil secret.

"I don't own a television set, a radio, a phone or a computer with internet."

"How did you know you were being investigated?" Nell frowned.

"I saw the daily newspapers and internet news at the library here in Ruby Beach."

Nell slapped her forehead, exhaling with a puff of annoyance. "Shit. That's where you've been hiding out. Gawd. I didn't think to look there. So stupid of me, since I could've caught your ass, three days ago..."

"You always were stupid, Mouse." Katt grinned.

"Touché Indian Princess. My ma wrote that you killed Henry."

"No." Katt shook her hands and her curls in fury.

Nell raised her palms with a grin. "Relax. I know that's false."

"How would you know that?"

"I was there on the third of March when you turned seventeen on the day of your birthday. I watched you get into the patrol car with Matt going to the airport."

"You followed me?" Katt frowned.

"Followed you all the way to Miami, Florida. Your home was there on the eighth floor of the hospital while you worked in the computer department. It all started on March third when you turned fifteen. Henry wanted you and not me. He wanted you to be his daughter all these years ago. When I turned eighteen, he tossed my butt out my home and my family and my town, because you were available. Dokey was close to death. Henry was going to adopt and take care of you, not me. You ruined my life in Boyer, Florida. I want you to pay me back."

"I didn't know about your father, the town, or you. You can't punish me for that."

"I've been punishing you for years, waiting patiently for this day." Nell smiled.

"Waiting? To tell me those horrible things about our past together in Boyer, Florida." Katt exhaled with a puff of frustration.

"Our past together? What an interesting phrase? We do share a past, a present, and not a future. I'm afraid."

"I don't want a future with you, either, girlfriend." Katt chuckled.

"I returned to Boyer, after I found you had escaped to Miami. I wasn't looking like myself these particular days. I looked different." Nell touched her hair.

"You colored your blonde hair black. What does that mean, Nell? You've talking in riddles again."

"I'll solve the riddle later but back to you and Henry." Nell nodded.

"Tell me the riddle now?"

"I planned on March the third, your birthday to kill you in Boyer. When I arrived you were with Matt driving to the airport."

"Tough break!" Katt laughed.

"Good luck for me. I also planned to kill Henry for screwing me out of my marriage and a chance of happiness."

"I thought I caused that." Katt grinned.

"You both did. I planned to kill both of you. The night of your birthday at work inside the nursing home, Henry was waiting for you. Henry always kept his office door locked to keep me or Henrietta from snooping inside his private business office. He wanted you, Indian Princess."

"I don't understand, Nell." Katt shook her curls with a frown.

"He couldn't have you in Boyer. You were off limits. You weren't a Hartmann. So he did the next best thing. Henry got rid of me when you became available after Dokey died."

"She passed into heaven. Dokey was very ill." Katt looked down to see her hands with a touch of deep sadness.

"He got you, didn't he?" Nell smirked.

Katt looked up with a confused brow to see her. "Sheriff Matt and Mr. Moore told me that it was Mr. Hartmann, who had arranged my new job in Miami, Florida."

"Lucky dog. No one arranged me anything but suffering and pain."

"I am so sorry for your loss."

"Forget it. I'll get my just rewards the 150-million-dollar bounty for your pretty ass." Nell laughed. "So I win."

"So, I win. I am not guilty. I will be freed soon. Watch and see. Anyways, girlfriend, you look dead already."

"Doctors can fix anything, anywhere, anytime. You will not see. You will be dead." Nell laughed. "Ponder that statement, kid. No witty rebuke. Good night, Indian Princess," she stood and mouth spat near Katt's bare foot, turning and leaving the room.

The door closed with a boom.

Katt looked down and jerked on the chain not being able to escape. She was not guilty of killing the 8,063 individuals. So, Katt would patiently wait for the next opportunity to escape.

Nell was clearly dying with a stinky smell of some type of clinical sickness.

With good luck, she might die in her sleep inside her bed mattress, before Nell re-visited Katt in the morning.

The guy with Nell was nice and might release her. However, he seemed very afraid of Katt.

Katt wondered about the weird order to touch the faces of these strange men, shaking her curls, exhaling with a puff of frustration, and thought that Nell was a very strange girl.

Present day and place

Friday June 18th

11:11 a.m.

City of Ruby Beach (131 miles west from Coral Beach)

Beach house rental of Mouse and Tiberius

Bedroom on Tom and Austin setting

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

His skull slightly ached with the encrusted dried blood that coated his neck and his shirt and itched as his eyeballs were seeing single objects. No concession. No double vision.

Austin jerked both hands seeing the ropes front and center of his body, shifting both his legs, finding ropes around his ankles too, exhaling with a huff of frustration, and viewed Tom. Sawyer rested in the same spot, before the clank of metal from Austin's Ghost which hit perfectly on Berrington's hard skull. Austin had carelessly tossed his weapon on the tile, seeing Tom in the open wardrobe closet, scooting across the sandy floor to reach Tom.

Now, Tom's folded body faced the wardrobe closet with a rhythm of steady breathing, needing a physician, lots of fluids, and a hospital.

Austin turned with a frown to see the patio door with bright sunshine, concluding that it was morning time and not late afternoon of the next day. He and Tom had been held and captured for over twenty-four hours with Stu and Frank both worried.

Tom sounded with a groan. Austin leaned over his baby brother, "Tom."

"Austin." Tom swallowed and shifted around to face Austin. "Uh..." His body hurt everywhere and not from any physical violence. His sunburn burned and stung his skin with red blisters and his thirsted for some cool drinking water down his parched throat.

"Ya okay, Tom?" Austin asked with brotherly care.

"Sorry." Tom cleared his scratchy throat.

"Forget it." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration.

"Fucked up."

"Join my club." Austin chuckled.

"No solo."

"Look, you found her. Are you okay, Tom?"

"Alive! You?" Tom cleared his scratchy throat.

"Blood from my hard head."

"Blood?"

"Stopped."

"Dizzy?" Tom asked with more brotherly care.

"Not much, throbbing headache thou."

"Day?" Tom cleared his scratchy throat.

"Morning. Can't you tell?"

"Concession." Tom blinked his eyelids open and shut, seeing furry objects.

"Hang tight. Stu and Frank are hunting for us." Austin chuckled. "Knowing Stu, he's tearing the walls out of the hotel, cursing Keystone, the FBI, and all the other mixed alphabets inside the hotel room. He has deployed A, B, and C teams, looking for us and then has formed the new D, E, and F teams from the unhappily drafted Ruby Beach residents."

Tom gurgled, grinning on his busted lips. "Yeah."

"Frank is pondering the situation, thinking abstractly, collecting data, gathering evidence, and logically using the clues to find us while driving Stu crazy. Since Frank can be so damn calm and in control in every fucking crisis."

Tom snorted. "Yeah."

"They'll find us, soonest." Austin used Tom's expression to comfort his baby brother until Frank and Stu showed up for the rescue.

Tom cleared his throat. "Locate?"

"Close."

"Close?"

Austin exhaled. "What's so damn ironic? We're only ten or so miles from our hotel."

"Shit."

"No shit."

"Found me?" Tom cleared his throat.

"Easy."

"Easy?"

"She rented a beach house." Austin said.

"Smart."

"Not I. A group of construction workers told me." Austin said.

"Construction?"

"They saw you, her, and the car." Austin said.

"Lucky."

"Remind me to employ them." Austin said.

"Employ?"

"I'm going to buy the new building they're constructing and create a new security branch and employ these smart guys," chuckled Austin.

"Sure." Tom whispered.

Austin frowned, staring at Tom. "What's wrong, Tom? You're not your usual asshole self."

"Missing Jane." Tom moaned.

"We'll get back. Get the killer. See Janey."

"Love her."

"She knows."

"See her, again."

"You will."

"No." Tom whispered.

"Our situation is going to be corrected very soon, Tom."

"Child."

"For her."

"Us." Tom nodded.

"You'll see Janey."

"A little Tommy."

"You'll see Janey and have a baby."

"Sons playing..."

"The Band of Brothers, next generation," smiled Austin.

"Not so." Tom whispered.

"Tom, what are you saying?"

"That guy." Tom cleared his throat.

"That man?"

"Kill me!"

Austin growled. "Over my damn dead body, bro."

"Fast...three times." Tom gurgled.

Austin snorted with delight. "Thomas has entered the house."

"Kill us." Tom whispered.

"You're hurt. I'm not. I swear to God Almighty above. They'll not harm you. You're scared. I scared. Stu and Frank are searching for us. They'll find us, pronto. They have never let us down, Tom." Austin said.

"Yeah."

"You know that guy from where?" Austin turned to see the closed door, pondering.

Tom cleared his throat. "Dad."

"Sawyer, Junior." Austin turned to see Tom's hair roots.

"Dad, safaris."

"I remembered your trips with him to visit clients."

"Didn't wanna go." Tom whispered.

"Your dad was a class Grade-A asshole."

"Still is," grinned Tom.

"Right." Austin chuckled.

"The hunt, this guy at sixteen."

"Sixteen years old."

"Lost mom, home, stuff in one day."

"Hold shit. Double Grade-A," Austin said.

"Crying, Dad, papers, Charity."

"Royal shit. Charity figures. He remembered you." Austin frowned.

Tom cleared his throat. "Divorced wife, house, brother-in-law, business. All compliments of Quartet Assholes."

"Double royal shit. Revenge..."

"...served hot in South Florida."

Austin turned to see the closed door. "So the restaurant was a trap only for you."

"Us."

"No. You?" Austin turned to see Tom's hair roots.

"Can't be? Anyways, Katt's here too." Tom exhaled.

"Know that." Austin nodded.

"Did you see her?" Tom gurgled. "Ugly and yellow."

Austin frowned. "She's pink and pretty."

Tom cleared a throat, gurgling a laugh. "Katt's yellow colored like a rotting banana and smells."

Austin exhaled. "Then she has been spying on us instead of us spying on her. I'm not really surprised the media's everywhere in Ruby Beach."

"Lured us here."

"Katt lured us here and captured you." Austin said.

"The Band of Brothers..."

"Katt lured us here and captured the Band of Brothers for her revenge and ransom," exhaled Austin.

"One step ahead of us..."

"So, the guy and she had connected in Miami, you guess?"

"Partners."

"Logically, he wanted you. She needed help to save her ass," nodded Austin.

"Good partners."

Austin ordered. "Quiet, Tom..."

The chair scooted across the tile outside the bedroom as the bedroom knob visually rattled.

The door opened.

The female moved and entered the room, looking similar to Austin's dream doll, but the female had a head of long stringy black hair with the same face profile, the same height, and the same weight but a coloring of yellow.

Chick was ugly.

Mouse stood near the wall, saying with a giggle and a grin to Austin. "The dynamic duo awakens. Tiberius met Batman and Robin." The guy stood and guarded the archway.

Austin ordered to her as the boss of the Quartet. "Tom needs water."

"Water, you say?" Mouse smirked.

"Now..." Austin ordered.

"Costs a dollar, handsome." Mouse smiled with yellow teeth.

Austin did not have his wallet or his money, betting that his car was being stripped for mechanical parts, "Barter!" He winked to her.

Mouse smiled, motioning with a hand into the hallway. The guy left the archway and returned back with a tiny cup of water that sloshed over the edges of the thin cheap paper. She accepted the tiny cup of water with a smile and a nod to Austin. "Barter something, slick?"

"I'll fuck you." Austin snorted with a chuckle. Mouse marched forward away from the wall, flinging the precious water into the smile of Austin. Berrington gasped and then yelled. "Not me, bitch! Give the water to Tom!" He twisted a wet face, shaking the skull, tossing down all the precious droplets on top on Tom's sunburn.

"Go and fuck yourself, asshole! I'll kill both of you, together," she tossed the empty cup down onto the floor with a laugh.

"Sawyer's mine. Remember?" The guy pointed with a nod and a sour frown to Tom.

"Separate the troublemaker." Mouse said.

Tiberius moved ahead and stopped, bending down, grabbing onto the naked feet on Tom. Sawyer screamed out loud while kicking the other leg, struggling with a set of tied limbs. "Gawd! No! Please no! Gawd! Jeezus..."

Austin watched in horror as the guy pulled Tom over the sandy floor and then outdoors into the heated patio doors. A helpless and tied sunburned Tom wiggled side to side within the bright morning sunlight. Austin turned with a sneer to see the ugly yellow colored female. "Damn it to hell! Punish me, not Tom! Punish me!"

Mouse whispered with a smirk. "Too late, kid! You pissed me off, so he gets punished," giggling. Tiberius elegantly posed Tom on the stomach on top of the rough brick as more rays of burning heat, light, and ultraviolet rays penetrated down into the new pale flesh on the back spine on Sawyer.

Austin fumed with deep hate and hatred, watching the bitch and the bastard exit the guest room in silence as they laughed at Tom's delicate situation outdoors. Austin turned with a sour frown and prayed to the unseen. "God Almighty, please help Tom, my little brother. Please help Tom!" Tom could not absorb any more heat or light onto his pale skin, since his skin already appeared with a red glowing amber of light now. Austin helplessly watched Tom struggle on top of the pretty pink stones without shade. No tree. No grass. No bush, only heat, light, and sun. Then, Tom stopped wiggling as the heart stopped on Austin. Tom was not dead as he was only overheated, tired, sweaty, and thirsty, passing out into unconsciousness within the bright Florida sun. Berrington whispered in fury for his eardrums only. "Fucking ass, bitch! You're dead. I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands, once I'm freed of my bonds and Tom is safe with my brothers. Fucking ass bitch!" He turned with a sneer to see the rattle of the door knob.

The guest room door opened.

Mouse entered inside with a smirk and aimed the Ghost, the gun of choice for the Quartet at Austin. Berrington stilled for his cold-blooded murder and silently prayed for God Almighty to save Tom by alerting Stu and Frank of the secret beach house. Mouse laughed out loud. "Good night, Prince Charmed!" She reared back an arm and hit the forehead on Austin with the butt of his Ghost. And then, Austin passed out into darkness.

12:02 p.m.

Ruby Beach (four miles north from beach rental house)

Gulf of Mexico

Limestone cliff setting

Hot temperatures, windy and partly cloudy with sunshine

The compact car bumped at a steady pace on the roadway which contained an unconscious tied and gagged Tom and Austin in the rear seat. Katt rested inside the car trunk safe from people, since her bodily germs caused permanent death.

Mouse turned with a smile to see his nose profile. "Katt touches Berrington, first. We leave him on the cliff tied and gagged as evidence of her mighty angel of death powers. Sawyer can watch, making him scared shitless. Then your opportunity arises to kill him. Do you possess a weapon? Or are you plotting to use your bare hands, Tiberius?"

"I've never injured or killed anyone." Tiberius drove to the limestone cliff of Ruby Beach.

"Hmm! How about that unsuccessful car accident of your ex-wife?" Mouse smiled.

"I have a wooden club under the seat for emergencies. I call this an emergency, defending myself against two thieves and a murderess." Tiberius laughed and turned and parked the car at the foot of the limestone cliff of Ruby Beach.

They slid out the car, slowly moving and dragging the heavy bodies out the car and up the short plateau of the cliff which overlooked the beautiful Gulf of Mexico.

The rock cliff was made of silver and white limestone which had formed millions of years ago among the swamps of Florida during the Ice Age. The cliff shape was a geometric mound with four equal sides that formed a pretty squared shaped tea table ledge for the local teen residents of Ruby Beach to kiss and to hug during the late night moon light.

The perky suntanned blonde realtor was knowledgeable about the local sights during the signing of the beach rental paperwork.

Tiberius sat on the edge of the cliff, looking and liking both the water and the beach, enjoying the privacy, peace, and quiet from his noisy warehouse and pesky employees, who fussed and griped about pay, benefits, hard work, and low material supplies. So the Quartet bounty money would provide a nice lifestyle for him and Mouse for a limited time, before her death.

Mouse had turned a darker shade of yellow plus smelled terrible, since their introduction in Miami Springs as she was dying of some type of clinical terminal disease. Tiberius would care for her last days like his dying mom. Mouse deserved a peace after her very sad pitiful life. Tiberius planned to bury her at sea, so no one would find her biological body for any type of scientific experimentation.

Mouse hung a pair of yellow tinted legs off the side of a cool cliff, sipping on the hot soda.

Tiberius sneered down into the rippling ocean water, after placing a row of tied and unconscious bodies over the hard cliff stone. "I wanna see Sawyer's eyeballs, when I beat him black and blue and crying out with vicious pain, until he doesn't scream anymore like my mom and for the death of my mom. She couldn't scream with the set of plastic tubes down her throat. I miss her so much. We will build a memorial for my mom on our private island with all the reward money of one hundred fifty million dollars. I'm happy that you found that girl, Mouse. I wouldn't have figured out where to look. The entire State of Florida is looking for the angel of death too."

"We found her first, kid. She's docile and meek like a newborn kitten right now." Mouse sipped and swallowed the hot beverage. "I talked with her last night. She thinks some big shot lawyer will take her case like one of these famous Hollywood movie stars and then save her tanned skinned ass. A big shot lawyer will take her case while making tons and tons of money for him, as long as, the greedy lawyer doesn't want our money. He can have her. She can have him. I don't care. I want peace and security." Mouse turned with a sour frown to see Austin. "Now, we kill Berrington, first. Then, you murder Sawyer and then we haul her ass into the police station on a doggie leash," she turned with a grin to see the pretty greenish-blue ocean waves. "Katt is percolating and getting boiled, kid. She has to get hot. That's the only way the poison get into her hands is though her palm sweat." Mouse thumbed back over a collar bone at the two muscled men, who peacefully rested beside Sawyer with a grin. "When Katt touched each face with her sweaty hand, each muscle male got her invisible germs within their biological human system. Then, they died this morning," she stood upright from the cliff stone and moved ahead down to the car for Katt. "Let's get her out, before we die too!"

"Wow! She really is a freak of nature." Tiberius stood upright from the cliff stone with a worried brow and followed behind the back spine on Mouse.

Mouse and Tiberius marched down the steep cliff towards the parked car. Mouse stopped and stood in rear of the car at the trunk with a smile, "Yeah. She is the true angel of death and worth one hundred and fifty million dollars, which is all for us, kid."

"Yeah, the one hundred and fifty million bucks is only for us. Good thinking on your part, Mouse while having each muscle male touch her hand!" Tiberius stopped beside Mouse and opened the trunk, reaching inside, grabbing both armpits of Katt to prevent an escape.

Mouse reached out and grabbed a pair of tied ankle bones on the legs of Katt with a grin. "That was the plan all along, kid. Let's get our angel out of the trunk and onto the cliff stone for your last mercy kill."

12:22 p.m.

Austin stirred awake, blinking his eyelids to bright sunlight and sniffed with his nostrils, inhaling the cool breeze, and finally tasted salt on his tongue. He heard a set of rolling ocean waters as each one splashed against the sand. He felt the heat on a face, shading the eyeballs with a pair of tied wrist bones and turned to see the limestone cliff, rolling to his side, seeing the yellow skinned female.

"Prince Charmed arises," Mouse clapped, saying with a smile and a nod.

Austin sat on his ass with his legs in a straight position, narrowing his eyelids at the captured audience.

An older male stood at average height with a head of brown colored hair and a stumpy built.

A new female possessed a head of long black hair, a baby blue blouse, a pair of matching walking shorts, a tone of dark tinted skin with pink rosy cheekbones. She did not wear any shoes and her naked hands were freed from ties and parked around her two kneecaps.

An older female displayed a head of long stingy black hair, an outfit of baby blue clothes with a tone of yellow sickly skin complexion and a set of matching yellow teeth.

Twins or relatives? One of them was Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. Austin said with a smile to the audience. "Ah! The Wicked Bitch of the West is decomposing along with her side kick Robin Hood, the short, and there is Snow Princess, lovely."

Robin Hood, the short laughed as Snow Princess giggled. The Wicked Bitch of the West hissed.

"She ain't no Snow Princess." Robin Hood, the short thumbed with a laugh to Katt.

"Stow it, dipshit," the yellow Wicked Bitch of the West said with a smile and a nod, touching her blouse. "I'm Kattleen Scarlett Katt..."

"I am Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell," Snow Princess said with a southern accent too.

"Twins?" The yellow Wicked Bitch of the West laughed.

"Don't forget now! Rumpel-stilts-kin, he's over there." Robin Hood, the short thumbed behind his collar bone to the resting three males.

Austin turned with a sour frown to see three males, "My gawd, Tom?"

Tom was shirtless, sunburned, barefooted, unconscious, and tied both at his wrists and his ankles. He wore his suit trousers which were torn at his kneecaps as his back muscles contracted in and out while breathing in a steady pace.

Austin did not know or recognized the two other unconscious men, who appeared to be still and sleeping too.

"Finish this." Robin Hood, the short tapped his short club to his open palm, saying with a nod and a sneer to Austin.

"Prince Charmed needs proof," the yellow Wicked Bitch of the West laughed. "Knock. Knock."

"Who's there?" Robin Hood, the short laughed.

The yellow Bitch turned with a sour frown to see Robin Hood. "Not you, dipshit." She viewed Austin with a smile. "I'm being dramatic. Knock. Knock. The door creaks open. The outer light bombards the room. The wheels squeak. The metal scrapes on a steel cart. The figure appears inside the door way, seeing a patient on the oncology ward with a broken left leg. Hey, Clifford, right, kid?" She said with a nod and a grin.

"Fucking bitch, you killed my godson in cold blooded murder." Austin dropped his mouth and sneered, wrestling with the ropes to attack and to kill her now.

"I like to think of my special gift as a blessing benefiting society. I assist in God Almighty's Holy work. I have a divine talent." Mouse wiggled her fingers with a smile. "My hands contain the poison that killed little sweet innocent Clifford."

Austin exhaled with a huff of clarification. "Very good, a murder confession of intent, a motive with a weapon in addition to kidnapping and attempted murder charges on Tom. Baby, I'm going to hang your shitty ass from the highest banyan tree in Miami, watch you slowly struggle, draw your last gawd damn breath, and burn your fucking body in effigy," snarling.

The yellow Bitch said with a laugh and a grin. "Told ya'll. He is charming, handsome, and enchanting."

"The real Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, the cold-blooded serial killing mass murderer of 8,063 souls." Robin Hood, the short played along with Mouse, saying with a nod and a grin to Austin, since half of the Quartet would die today. The other half of the Quartet and the entire world would blame Katt as Tiberius received all the Quartet Assholes' money for the capture of the real angel of death. Then Tiberius and Mouse would live the rest of their rich lives on a Caribbean island, after hauling Katt into the Ruby Beach Police Station in ten more minutes.

"I prefer the angel of death. Thank you very much," the yellow Bitch slapped her blouse, saying with a nod and a giggle.

"Baby, you definitely don't match the description of any angel that I've imaged. You're more like a demon, one of Satan's cousins in drag. You are one ugly and..." Austin sniffed and smiled, "...shitty smelly bitch." Robin Hood, the short laughed. Snow Princess giggled.

The Wicked Bitch of the West hissed and smiled with a nod. "The 8,063 exhumed bodies, all the former patients of the Charity Healthcare System died on both the pediatric and adult oncology floors with the same condition, a yellow coated bilirubin pus crystallized liver. Speechless, I see. This kitty cat got your tongue," she raised her hands. "My hands. Weren't you paying attention, Prince Charmed? Alas. Sadly, you know the entire truth. Say goodbye. Your time's up on planet Earth. Ya get to travel to heaven and meet the Maker, my Boss," the yellow Bitch laughed.

"Allow me." Robin Hood, the short advanced to Austin, slapping the short club against his collar bone.

"No." Snow Princess stood and swirled, raising her hand to Tiberius.

"Don't touch her..." The yellow Bitch jabbed a finger at Katt.

"Out of the way, pussycat." Robin Hood, the short stopped and waved his other hand, slapping the club against his collar bone.

Snow Princess waved her hands, saying with a lady sneer. "You will not harm him," she stomped a naked foot towards Tiberius as he back stepped from the fear of death at the hand of the real angel of death.

Austin narrows his eyelids, seeing the ass of the pretty girl, saying with a puzzled brow. "Twins? Is she the angel of death too?"

The Wicked Bitch of the West pointed the Ghost at Austin, shaking her curls. "Finally, ya get it. A day late and a dollar short! Did ya think God Almighty created only one of us?"

"Sadly, I did." Austin said with a puzzled brow, facing his death.

Robin Hood, the short pointed to Austin. "Touch him. Kill him, not me. We don't time for this shit, Mouse. I wanna kill Sawyer, now."

"Can she really kill with a touch?" Austin said with confused brow, learning new knowledge of a second angel of death.

Tiberius turned and pointed the two unknown males. "Hell yeah! See the stiffs on the ledge. She touched their faces. I saw that shit. They died this morning. Damn spooky shit..."

"Jeezus! Will this mystery ever end?" Austin turned with a confused brow to the see the unknown males who were resting next to Tom and looked at the ass of the pretty girl.

Both the girls fascinated him.

The dream doll was lovingly protecting him while the yellow bitch had threatened deadly body harm and held his Ghost which could cause a deadly death.

The dream doll appeared like a twin in beauty, height, and weight to the bitch, except for the colored yellow skin and yellow teeth.

Austin pondered, studying each female.

Who is real? Who is fake? Who is guilty? Who is innocent? Who is God's angel? Who is the Devil's spawn?

All eardrums heard the vroom sound as all eyeballs saw a set of rotors twirling from the west.

The helicopter dropped down from the sky, ticking off blue rays of light, hitting the Wicked Bitch of the West then Snow White, and finally Robin Hood, the short. Robin Hood staggered side to side from the stun ray, falling forward and tossed his short club which hit the chest of Austin with a clunk.

"D..." Austin gasped, grabbing his chest, falling forward on his kneecaps as his forehead slammed on the cool rock, hearing the sounds of the helicopter blades, the booted feet, and the human voices that surrounded him.

And then Austin closed his eyelids and his mind to the pain.

1:11 p.m.

Limestone cliff of Ruby Beach setting

Hot temperatures and windy with bright sunshine

"Austin!" Frank leaned over into the face of his brother. "Stay quiet!" He injected a needle into Austin. "This is for pain and swelling. Do you hurt anywhere else?" He touched and probed over Austin for any more cuts or bruises.

"Tom..." Austin gasped, blinking his eyelids open and shut with his dizziness. The Band of Brothers helped each other, first and foremost. Frank's medication worked fast on Austin as Berrington felt his aching body became numb and his active brain cells activated again as the medication eased the pain in his skull.

"He's All right. The paramedics are hooking him up to an IV now." Frank continued touch and probe on Austin.

"Talk?" Austin whispered, knowing on Tom's medical condition of sunburn.

Frank chuckled, probing on Austin's body with his trained physician hands. "He's trying to curse but only f-noises are rolling off Tom's acidic devil tongue."

Austin grinned. Tom was fine and dandy and mad as hell like him. Austin felt sadness for the male and two females as they were on the Band of Brothers' number one, first row hit list. They would be considered damn lucky, if they escaped the city limits of Ruby Beach by nightfall with a heavily armed and guarded police escort.

"Pissed," Austin whispered, rolling and sitting upright on his ass, feeling like his old self with Frank's expensive pharmaceutical drugs.

"All of us are. Who invited you to the evening dinner and dance, Austin?" Frank turned to see the numerous unconscious bodies which were scattered over the rock cliff.

Austin blinked his eyelids open and shut, scanning the unconscious bodies too. "Ah. That would be the Wicked Bitch of the West, colored in yellow. Robin Hood, the short is yelling. Snow Princess is crying." He grinned at his made up names.

"A Mother Goose picnic, I'm jealous, since I wasn't invited." Frank chuckled.

"Don't be. Both of the girls claim to be Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration and worry.

"Holy shit. We got two instead of one. This indeed is our lucky day." Frank chuckled, staring at Austin's forehead in red tint. Tomorrow, Berrington would wear a deep purple bruise.

"I seriously doubt it. One's an imposter. The other is real." Austin whispered the details of yesterday's events into Frank's face.

Frank nodded, saying with a worried brow of the shared information. "Who is the real killer of 8,063 people?"

"Another mystery to solve." Austin touched his forehead.

"Triple crap. This investigation will never end." Frank said with sour frown.

"Didn't wish that, Frank. Help me up!" Austin grunted from pain, standing with the aid of Frank. They watched. A barge of police cars, patrol officers, and an individual loaded gun surrounded the limestone cliff while covering a crying Snow Princess, a mellow, yellow tinted Wicked Bitch of the West, who rested on her back spine.

Robin Hood, the short screamed and bounced up and down, pointing to Katt. "Don't touch her. Don't touch her. You die, die, die..." The loaded guns were aimed at Tiberius as police handcuffs were placed around his wrists.

"Gag him!" Sheriff Willie Keystone of Lee County moved from the edge of the cliff, surveying his prisoners, walking to Austin.

"Do not touch her." Austin wobbled inside Frank's arms. "He is correct. Do not touch her."

He stood beside Austin and Frank, narrowing his eyelids at his prisoners. "Hells bells. What ya saying there, Berrington?"

Frank reached and grabbed the ice pack, handing to Austin. "Do not touch her." Austin said, holding the ice pack to his achy skull.

"The other girl?" Ron was the first deputy of Ruby Beach Police Station, stand over Nell, pointing with a sour frown. "Is that a girl or a vegetable? She's yellow," he gagged and mouth spat on the rock from her bad smell.

"Do not touch her either..." Austin removed the ice pack, closing his eyelids from the dizziness as Frank steadied his brother.

"Don't worry. But I think she's dead." Ray was the second deputy of Ruby Beach Police Station, standing on the other side of Nell, saying with a sour frown and a nod.

"Shit, Stu..." Austin slowly turned with a sour frown to see Gage as Berrington had desired the yellow Bitch alive for his personal revenge and her cold-blooded murder of his godson Cliffy.

Stu shrugged his shoulder, holding his taser rifle on Katt. "I used a taser. She shouldn't have died." He did not bother apologizing, since the crazy dead woman was aiming a deadly Ghost at Austin's skull.

Frank moved and stood over the dead girl, sniffing. "Did she smell before this incident, Austin?"

"Like dog shit," Austin mouth spat on rock, shifting the melting ice pack to the other side of his achy skull.

"Hmm, I would have suspected a terminal disease in the last stage of morbidity. The decomposing organs start to break down and actually rot inside the body, creating a bad odor." Frank examined the dead girl.

"Shitty cow, horse, and bull combined odors." Ray held his nose, back stepping from the smelly body.

"Forget that thing. Move her. She's alive." Keystone jabbed a finger at Katt, saying with a nod and a sour frown.

"How do we get her into the jail cell, sheriff?" Ray pointed to Austin with a confused brow. "He says not to touch her."

"Call a NEST team," Stu aimed his taser rifle at Katt.

"Bird nest?" Ray scratched the hair underneath his cowboy hat.

"Nuclear emergency support team, the nearest one is southern Florida at the city of Homestead." Stu shifted the rifle and pitches his mobile telephone to the Ray.

Ron caught the mobile telephone. "Uh, sheriff?"

"Yeah. Call them, Ron." Keystone looked at the scattered bodies over the limestone cliff.

Stu said. "Punch up NEST in the directory. The phone'll do the work just confirm with the NEST controller."

Ron tapped the mobile telephone, hitting the speed dial on the word NEST at the Homestead facility listening to the ringing and then the connection. "Yes ma'am. I live in Ruby Beach. I'm on top of a limestone cliff at Ruby Beach coastline on the Gulf of Mexico side." He said with a nod and a smile, disconnecting the mobile telephone and pitched it back to Stu, saying with a smile to each face. "They're in route with an estimated time of thirty-two minutes."

Keystone frowned. "It comes across the State of Florida from the city of Miami, that fast?"

"The NEST team member travel by fighter jet planes with their gear and fly by a chopper from the Naples Airport to us. The response team is part of the president's bioterrorism program from the Department of Energy and FBI, since 9/11. They have top secret clearance to monitor and investigate any and all radiation levels of any and all nuclear materials inside any and all homes, businesses, warehouses or any place throughout the US and the world." Stu aimed the taser rifle at Katt, saying with a stern face.

"They respond to a nuclear or radiological terrorist attack anywhere in the US." Frank nodded, staring at the live girl.

"She's radiated." Ron back stepped from Katt, fiddling with his hand gun on his utility belt. "Shoot her!"

"The girl is not radiated but toxic. We need the hazmat suits to transport her person safely to the jail. Do not touch her." Stu said with a stern face and aimed the taser rifle at Katt.

"Do not touch the other girl either." Austin stared at the live girl too.

"Okay. We heard that one, Berrington. What about those other dead bodies over there on the edge of the cliff?" Keystone pointed to the unknown males.

"She did it. She...she touched them. Her." Robin Hood, the short yelled, swinging side to side in the direction of dead men. "Dead! Dead! Dead! Dead..."

"Gawd! Shut him up!" Keystone said with a sour frown to Ray.

"Yes sir!" Ray moved and punched Tiberius in the chest, whispering into the face. Tiberius presented a sour frown of silence.

Ron stood over the unknown males, pointing to each body. "These guys are dead."

"Take 'em to the morgue," Keystone pointed to Tiberius. "Better yet. Haul his ass to my jail cell, since its empty, Ray." He turned with a worried brow to Austin. "Wait. Is he radiated, Berrington?"

"Only stupid." Austin smirked.

Ray shoved Tiberius to the police car on the sands. "Move it, stupid."

Tiberius slowly moved, yelling. "My name is Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior. I have captured Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell over there. She is alive and breathing. I demand my money, the 150 million dollars. You are all my eye witnesses here."

"Congratulations, Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior. You're a millionaire as soon as you get out for prison for kidnapping, attempted murder, and murder one. Quartet Associates will reward you the 150 million dollar. But ya gotta get out of Sheriff Keystone's prison first and then safe and sound second. If ya know what I mean?" Ray laughed with the other law enforcement officers.

Keystone stared with a confused frown at the live girl. "Did that dipshit say that's Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell alive over there in the flesh? Berrington, can you verify that?"

"I cannot." Austin stared at her, wearing a new ice pack on his bruise.

"What the hell? She kidnapped and tortured both you and Sawyer." Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Berrington.

"Actually, I do not know who kidnapped me." Austin stared at her.

"Sawyer does?" Keystone turned with a smile to see inside open ambulance door which held a medicated Sawyer.

"Tom saw his assailant. I did not." Austin said. Presently, Tom was medicated for his injuries and his second degree sunburn, making his brain cells dull. Austin stared at the back spine on Tiberius who had hurt Tom at the beach house and was going to pay one way or the Quartet way, jail cell or not.

"Ron, search the house for IDs, weapons, drugs, alcohol, money, anything to pin her ass to the wall." Keystone pointed to Katt.

"That man named Tiberius has some answers to our questions, Willie." Ray pointed down to the police car which was holding Tiberius.

"Forget that dipshit. Ya heard him. He only wants the bounty money. I want the angel of death girl." Keystone moved with a smile and a nod to Katt, squatting. "Hi, honey. What's your name? See, the bad people are gone away. That girl's dead, the yellow one. That guy's in jail. He said that you are Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. Is that your name, honey?" he shook his cowboy hat, saying with a furious tone. "Ya don't want me to lose my temper do you, honey?"

"Back off, sheriff. I need to cover her actions." Stu held his rifle on Katt.

Keystone said with a nod and a smile to her. "She's not strong. Look at her, I bet she barely weighs hundred pounds. What's your name? Is it Kattleen? You can tell me, honey?"

The helicopter flew passed the limestone cliff, hunting for a clear drop zone. It landed beside the first helicopter, vomiting pairs of white hooded outer space creatures from an open hatch as they dragged out white boxes which were marked in red letters and toted between their arm limbs.

Frank shoved Austin slowly to the edge of the cliff, waving both his arms to signal the position on the limestone cliff, turning with a smile and a chuckle to see the nose profile on Austin. "Tom's going to be jealous he missed this."

"Where is he?" Austin watched as the NEST team climbed up the cliff.

"In the ambulance, I don't have the heart to send him away. The doors are open. He can view some of the action." Frank turned and chuckled, waving to the NEST team.

"He needs a doctor. Pronto, Frank." Austin removed the ice pack, turning with a sour frown and a sneer to see the nose profile on Frank.

Frank turned with a sour frown to see Austin, slapping his chest. "I'm a doctor. He needs IVs, fluids, aloe, food, and rest. He's fine, still trying to curse. That's a very healthy sign. Tom wants to stay at least and see some of the action here."

"I'm boss." Austin sneered.

Frank shook his skull. "Not on my medical turf, you fuckingly aren't. I'm boss. Tom stays. You calm down. Or I'll stick you with one of my little tap needles, Austin."

Austin sneered. "If you ever stab me, you'll regret it for the rest of your fucking life, Frank." Frank enjoyed way too much his tap needles and his temporary role as Doctor Evil.

"Angry, fury, and threats. Badass Berrington's alive and well. How does your head feel?" Frank said with a smile, seeing the developing midnight blue bruise on Austin's forehead.

"Slight headache." Austin gently placed the ice pack on his forehead, rubbing his aching chest from the club attack, exhaling with a huff of frustration.

"If you need to cease the pain, punch me." Frank grabbed Austin, slowly turning them to see the NEST team, who moved and attacked Katt.

There were four outer space dressed NEST personnel that carried two white boxes, walking over the rock of the cliff. They stopped as the NEST captain squatted and opened one of the white boxes, standing and dropping an empty space suit with a pair of white gloves in the center of Katt.

Stu aimed the rifle at her skull, ordering. "Put it on..."

Katt was tired, scared, and thirsty. Nell was not a good hostess, skipping out on the food and water refreshments for her visiting guests at the beach house, last night. Tiberius was a terrible host who tattled the made up story that she was the mysterious angel of death person to the police law enforcement officers.

Katt crawled on her knees and her hands, touching the space suit as she stood and jerked the oversized plastic pants up and over both her legs. She buckled the plastic pants at a waist with the set of metal clips. She bent down and lifted the oversized chest armor up and then over her skull as the metal bumped her nose, her earlobes, and her cheekbones, feeling the bruises developing on her delicate hands, face, arms, and legs from lifting, dragging, and positioning the heavy suit over her petite fragile body. She slipped a right bare foot in an oversized boot and repeated with her other naked foot, placing a protective glove over each hand and slipped a smelly enclosed helmet over her skull and her hair roots.

The NEST team moved and attached her outer space suit to an airborne metal hook as it clasped in place with a set of swinging belts and ropes which came down from the helicopter. The helicopter lifted Katt from the tongue of limestone cliff, flying her in the air and landed her on the sand. The NEST team and Stu rode a second helicopter as it landed and dropped the crew down from the limestone cliff too. Stu advance to Katt and waved rifle barrel over her outer space helmet, ordering. "Move it!"

Katt stood in front a cargo van with the words: Contamination! Stay Clear!

She shifted up a left leg and a right leg as the space suit pinched both her legs and her arms against the plastic seams, waddling to the van. The NEST captain shoved from her back spine with a faster pace to a flat mechanic lift which was built on the bottom of the van, discovering it too high for her to jump up and on the platform wearing the heavy outer space suit.

"Lift her!" The NEST captain said via his head gear to the hovering helicopter as Katt was still attached to a set of swinging belts underneath her right arm, her left arm, her left calf, and her right calf. Then she floated in the windy ride both scary and thrilling and landed on top of the metal lift.

The NEST Captain ripped off the swinging belts from on her suit and pressed a button as Katt ascended up even with the van floor. The lift stopped. The NEST captain climbed up the ladder and crawled inside the enclosed bed of the van, pulling Katt by her two plastic arms forward inside the van too and off the lift, pointing to the side long bench against the wall. Katt did not move, trying to decide how to sit on the narrow bench.

The doors closed.

The NEST driver turned to see Katt through a tiny window flap, giving the NEST captain a thumbs-up signal for go as the NEST captain moved and sat on the opposite long bench talking on his mobile telephone, after flipping up his visor. The van engines roared and purred as the transport roughly shifted forward and out of the sand, traveling onto a smooth highway.

Katt fell forward into the wall, hitting and bouncing sideways, landing on her palms and her kneecaps and rolled to the other side as the van traveled in a steady pace. Katt found the outer space suit scary, uncomfortable, and isolating as she could not touch her hands, elbows, arms, legs, and feet inside the suit, feeling mad, intimated, frightened, and sad.

The police officers believed that she was the serial killer of 8,063 souls in Miami, Florida.

However, Katt did not kill all these sick patients at all these different Charity Hospitals in South Florida. Nell had framed Katt for the arrest as the angel of death, marking her as a prisoner of Sheriff Keystone in the city of Ruby Beach within the US State of Florida. The road trip was short. The van slowed and turned off the highway, onto another smooth road, and stopped.

1:52 p.m.

Ruby Beach Police Station (five miles south from limestone cliff)

Jail setting

The NEST captain stood and moved, attaching a hook to the back of the outer space suit as Katt rested sideways over the floor. The machine hummed as the pulley yanked Katt over the floor and onto the lift again. The lift stopped at the bottom of the pavement. The NEST captain and the other team members struggled and lifted Katt to stand upright, turning and twisting her to the front door of the jail house.

Katt slowly waddled forward, seeing through the darken visor two lines of people which consisted of the NEST team members, the police officers, the local residents, and the media reporters plus the photographers that stood in the grass, the gravel, the sands, and the roadway. She lifted an oversized boot to the first brick step and stomped down onto air, miscalculating the stair depth, falling forward, and slammed her kneecap against the plastic suit as her space suit hit and rested over the steps on the porch. She sobbed tears of pain and sadness, seeing a set of fuzzy objects.

The NEST team member moved and lifted her in unison and hauled the outer space suit up and over the stacked steps, landing her on the concrete porch. They shoved her to the building.

Her eyeballs stung with tears and her kneecaps ached with pain. Her elbows were developing a set of painful bruises from bumping against the hard plastic inside the outer space suit. Her hands had burnt spots from sliding forward inside the outer space suit too and they throbbed with her skull. Katt waddled into the enclosed room, seeing a set of cheap metal desks, numerous telephones, the overhead lights, a row of filing cabinets, a fax machine, four gun racks, a uniform closet, and the prison of squared blocked cells with a set of iron doors.

Each prison jail cell space measured six feet long by seven feet wide by ten feet high, holding one window which faced in a northern direction.

Katt exhaled with a puff of frustration, missing the beautiful sunset tonight as she looked at the crazy boyfriend of Mouse, who was named Tiberius. The metal iron door opened with a squeak. She waddled into an empty cell, hearing the iron door shut with a slam, undressing quickly and quietly, pitching off the glove first. She heard behind her back spine.

"Hell no!" Ray pointed to the prison bars and shouted in angry. "Put that shit back on now!" He reached over for the pistol. "I'll shoot her, Willie. Tell her, Willie!"

The outer space suit was hot, steamy, and pinched her limbs from the heavy weight of the plastic which hurt her joints during the walk. They could shoot to wound her only, since the 150-million-dollar bounty was awarded to one lucky hunter as a captured alive and not dead for the upcoming legal court trial of 8,063 exhumed dead bodies. Katt removed the helmet, inhaling a breath of fresh air which was tinted with a scented pine woody fragrance, exhaling with a puff of nervousness. She inhaled to calm a pounding heart and a beating pulse. They could not hurt or touch or grab her as she jiggled and wiggled out of her chest armor. The outer space man equipment fell to the tile with a loud crash.

"She's going to destroy it, major." The NEST team member shouted, watching her strip tease of the suit.

"Forget it, lieutenant! The suit's worthless now. Going to have to be burnt being its contaminated with her deadly germs." The NEST captain said, watching her undress too.

Katt wiggled out of the space man suit, dropping the individual pieces to the floor with a more boom sounds, walking out her stiff and sore joints to the cot which held a blanket and a pillow. The cot hugged the wall underneath a single glass window which overlooked an unpaved alleyway. The bathroom lavatory provided a swinging door. There was a small table with a plastic pitcher and three plastic cups. The plastic pitcher contained water and ice. She moved ahead towards the water pitch, pouring the water in a cup, drinking in heavy gulps as the cool water tasted nice traveling down her throat and hitting her stomach. Katt repeated the water procedure for a second time. The pitcher of water was three fourths gone.

Katt could retrieve more water from the bathroom facet, praying that there was not a set of brown colored rusty water germs while planning to run some additional fresh drinking water from the sink facet for five minutes before drinking. She would not bother asking for a bottle of drinking water.

Each small Florida town tended to produce terrible pumped city water from the sink faucet which was full of rust, lime, sand, and salt particles from Atlantic Ocean, smelling worse than dog shit. A person would vomit up puke green contents, if you drink it too much.

She lowered the cup to a small table exhaling with a puff of worry as she was the enemy now. Katt turned with a stern face inside her cage to see the men and women, moving to her bed cot. Her eyelashes blinked open and shut from the numerous bright flashes which came from the television camera lights, the mobile telephones, and the hand cameras. Katt sat in the middle of cot, raising her two bruised legs to her chest, parking her two bruised arms around her kneecaps, staring at the mod of people in silence. Don't cry. The bright flashes blinded her eyelashes again.

"Icy bitch!" A visible person said in his baritone timber.

"Imperturbable face!" A visible person two said in her alto tone.

"Chilly murderer!" A visible person three said in his tenor timber.

Katt stared through the faces, refusing to close the eyelashes, staying both alert and ready for an evil action like a snake toss and inhaled, smelling the sweat, the body odor, the perfume, the cologne and fear of her.

Keystone moved between the mod of people, slapping the hands while shoving the people away from the prison cells with a sour frown and a loud shout. "Photo op's done. I got work to do. Out! Get out! It's over for the day, Ray. Get them out!"

Ray shuffled and shoved the other bodies back to the archway, shouting and flinging his arms. "Move! Move! Faster! Hustle! Get out! Move! Get out!"

Numerous rows of people stood upright from the floor or the chair, while still staring at Katt, spinning around, exiting out from the sheriff office and the prison cells.

Keystone stopped and talked on the mobile telephone. Deputy Ron Caldwell parked both fists on the hips. Dispatcher Linda Denson kissed a video recorder into a cheekbone. Austin Berrington held an ice bag onto the forehead. Stu Gage aimed a loaded shotgun directly at Katt.

Tom Sawyer had been drugged and was both numb and dumb inside his brain, lounging inside a cheap-ass patio chair which was against the side wall as Dr. Frank Mangrove checked the IV bag which was attached to Tom. The IV needle was taped and cushioned underneath a soft pillow for his comfort as Frank pumped the bag of saline solution with his fingers.

You did not work in a hospital environment for ten years and not learn the medical lingo.

Katt had never been in a hospital bed from an illness or a disease or a virus as she was a very healthy girl all her life and not sick with the flu or a bad cold like some of her former co-employees.

Tom looked bad, but his wounds were not life threatening which showed a black eye, a couple of pink cuts on a right cheekbone, and a big ugly black and yellow bruise on his jaw line with a split red lip healing nicely. However, he was a very healthy boy, recovering quickly with the help from his brothers. Nell and Tiberius had abused Tom too. Sawyer received the sweet water from the IV bag for dehydrator which replenished his body with minerals, vitamins, nutrients, and enzymes.

Katt was not going to get that lucky, unless Dr. Mangrove had a forgiving heart and two blind eyes. She did not smile for the camera either, planning to stay silent while desiring for a good lawyer. This is the United States of America, where the accused had rights, including a lawyer, after she read the lawful data in a legal book from the Miami library a long time ago. So, she would not talk, spit, drool or yawn for the camera or the people.

Katt had money too, since Tiberius had found her stack of bills underneath the bed box springs inside a dirty sock at Mrs. Middleton's rental beach house. However, Katt didn't possess a paper receipt or a bank account to show the cash of three hundred thousand dollars which did belong to her, feeling sad, confused, lonely, and quickly prayed for help in her difficult and dangerous situation. Since, she was innocent.

Ray handed a set of small items to Keystone with a smile. "Sheriff, found this stuff! The driver's license says Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell."

"We got her. She's the one, the angel of death." Keystone accepted and tapped on the item, dancing the hips side to side with a laugh.

"The pic's different from her inside the cage." Ron narrowed his eyelids at the girl.

"What the shit ya talking about, Ron?" Keystone looked down with a frown to see the driver's license. "Looks the same to me."

"May I see?" Austin extended his palm.

Keystone handed the driver's license to Austin, pointing at her with a smile and a chuckle. "See for yourself? The same girl in the photo, the same girl in my jail."

Austin accepted and examined the item, pointing to the driver license and Katt. "Sheriff, this girl has very pale skin. That girl has very dark brown."

"We got her. Stop whining, Berrington!" Keystone snatched the driver's license back from Austin, before he stole it.

"Sheriff, I must point out that there were two girls on the cliff ledge who could have passed as twins." Austin stared at Katt.

"Shit fire. That thing was yellow. Was it a human?" Keystone chuckled with his police officers, except for the Quartet.

The Quartet was here to claim justice for Cliffy and the 8,063 exhumed graves in South Florida. Their trip, the incident, and her discovery was not a laughing manner but a strike of good luck for the Quartet.

"The deceased female claimed that she was Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, as well." Austin stared at Katt.

"You told me that you didn't see your attacker, Berrington." Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Austin.

"Not my attacker, but the people, who kidnapped me. One of them claimed to be Kattleen Kattrell and not the girl who is standing inside your cell jail." Austin stared at Katt.

"Did she talk?" Keystone pointed to Katt.

Katt had called and claimed to be Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell like the yellow bitch named Mouse.

Austin believed in his heart and his soul that the nameless yellow bitch had performed all the actual killings but lacked any legal proof or hard evidence or a weapon for a legal court of law. He felt frustrated without the correct answers for Keystone. Therefore, Austin planned to keep his mouth shut until the Quartet figured out the common links between the live pretty female and the dead yellow bitch as they might actually be biological twins.

"The yellow bitch did all the talking." Austin stared at Katt.

"Yellow bitch, that's funny, Berrington." Keystone laughed with the other police officers.

"You may have the wrong person in custody, Sheriff Keystone." Austin turned to see the rest of the Quartet. Stu continued to hold a loaded shotgun on Katt while Frank continued to baby a sleepy Tom. Berrington wished that Tom was his arrogant conceited shit ass self.

Tom was the legal eagle for the company. All legal issues, problems, and quarrels were fought and won by Tom. He could get the girl out of Keystone's jail in fifteen minutes flat by pulling out of his ass with some kind of super-duper legal law upheld by a Florida Supreme Court ruling from his super-duper brain.

Inside the chair, Tom wore the eyelids closed, sleeping like a baby.

"Same height. Same weight. Same face. Same name. Yipe! She gets the prize." Keystone slapped his leg, chuckling at his prisoner.

"Her rights!?" Austin ordered like a true licensed Florida attorney, quickly assessing a dangerous situation for Miss Kattrell, who did not possess freedom, rights or justice in this small retirement town of Ruby Beach from the shitty point of view of Sheriff Willie Keystone.

"Yipe. Getting to that. Any drugs?" Keystone turned with a smile and a nod to see his deputies.

"Nope." Ray shook his cowboy hat to Keystone.

"Any alcohol?" Keystone said with a frown.

"Nope."

"Any weapons?"

"Nope."

"Money?"

"Nope."

"The stiff bodies had money inside each pocket on their trouser." Ron held the two wallets from the departed dead bodies, where they went to the city morgue for tagging and identification.

"Amateur bounty hunters." Keystone mouth spat on the floor.

"Amateur!" Ron frowned.

Keystone said. "Pros wouldn't get caught and shot. Linda, is the camcorder ready?" Linda waved her hand with the camcorder device attached to her skull. Keystone straightened his shirt and moved to the front of the prison irons of Katt's cell, saying with a nod and a smile. "On." Linda waved her hand for affirmative. He cleared his throat. "This is Sheriff Willie Keystone, the law enforcement officer of Ruby Beach, Florida with the population of 621. I have caught and apprehended the cold-blooded serial killer mass murderer..."

"Sheriff!" Austin stared at the nose profile on Keystone.

"Berrington?" Keystone straightened his shirt for a second time for the camcorder recording.

"She is not accused of the crime until the charges have been filed." Austin frowned.

Keystone waved to Austin. "Yeah. Yeah. Getting there. Edit out that part, Linda." Linda waved her hand with the camcorder kissing her earlobe. Keystone exhaled with a huff of nervousness, looking down to the floor and looked up with a smile to the camcorder. "Let's see. The girl is housed in my jail cell located at Eleven Ruby Boulevard in Ruby Beach, Florida inside jail cell number two. Her full name is Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. She is...how old are you, honey?" He cleared his throat. "Data collected and edited later in the recorded tape. She lives at Thirteen Ruby Boulevard out passed Interstate 75 at the rental property of Mrs. Sandy Middleton in a two bedroom and two bath beach houses. Her license says that she is twenty-eight years old and her birthday is March third. Let's see. Her Florida license number P83-P180-859-92. She weighs ninety pounds, five feet and one inch in height. She has long black hair and blue eyes..."

Ray pointed to the new item. "That's not what her hospital birth certificate says."

"Birth certificate!?" Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Ray.

Ray said with a frown. "Found it inside the rental beach house too. She was born a year later..."

Keystone laughed. "Scammed and cheated her way to the top, I would guess as a killer and a cheat. What else do we have on this murderer?"

Ray read his notes. "She didn't drive a car. Haven't found it yet? But she owned a two-wheeled bicycle which was found inside the garage."

"The weapon that killed the 8,063 souls?" Stu said as a certified police officer of Coral Gables.

Keystone pointed to Gage, saying with a nod and a grin. "Hell right. The weapon is. Where's the weapon, Ray?"

"Her hands. She kills with her hands." Tiberius stood inside his prison, holding the bars, listening to the heated debate about Katt, as well. He was worried about his own health, living next door to her prison jail cell, recalling the deadly toxins in her hands from his dead girlfriend Mouse. He banged his hands on the irons, shouting in fear. "Move me. She's going to kill me with her hands."

Ray jabbed a finger at the wall, saying with a sour frown to Tiberius. "Ya got a solid five inches of concrete wall between you and her. Shut up, dipshit. And sit your ass down now."

"The weapon's being hunted as we speak, Willie." Ron said. "But I have her motive. She hates kids and elder killing them for fun."

"Sheriff, I do not believe that you should not make false comments about the accused motive." Austin frowned.

"Why not? She killed all these innocent kids, including your grandson." Keystone turned with a smile to see Austin, looking back to the camcorder. "Let's see. What else? Intent? She intends to kill all citizens of the world." He laughed and nodded, "How's that?" The police officers enjoyed the lame joke, laughing their asses off too.

Austin stared at Keystone. Stu chuckled. Frank rolled his eyes, turning to see the IV bag.

Tom was mellow and not smiling or cursing as the medication numbed his injuries and calmed his tension, fury, and fears, after being captured and tormented by both Mouse and Tiberius.

"Guess, I'm finished except for the sentencing." Keystone chuckled. "Guilty." The police officers clapped as he ordered. "Let's see. Cut the tape and copy this for the media, Linda."

"You cannot give this tape to the news reporters." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Keystone.

"My town. I can give it to whomever I want." Keystone smiled, dreaming of the new revenue money that the media folks would pay to visit the jail and then shop at local retail stores of little Ruby Beach. He would receive a payroll raise as the famous murderer would put this tiny town on USA map.

"The accused has rights, Sheriff Keystone. We should proceed, using all the legal procedures which will be needed for the justice system." Austin said.

"Justice!? She ain't got no justice here. I vote to string her neck from the highest tree in Ruby Beach. She'll be our new tourist attention." Ron laughed with a nod.

Keystone laughed. "Hell of a good idea, Ron. Folks from foreign countries will come here just to see the mummified body of the cold-blooded serial killing mass murderer."

"Her rights?" Austin growled at Keystone.

Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Austin. "Berrington, what's up your ass? You're been hunting this kid for weeks. Now, you want to follow police and legal procedure," shaking his cowboy hat and turned to see Katt.

"Sheriff Keystone, there are probably, not many, but a few outstanding lawyers, who will defend her while clearly noticing that you have violated her rights as set in the US legal justice system. I want to avoid any technical difficulties with this very important high profile murder case. I also would like to point out to the fact, if we have apprehended the real Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell." Austin said.

"Okay. Gotta hear her rights as stated by the police manual. Let's see. Never did that either before, since being not much crime here in Ruby Beach much less the arrest and confinement of cold-blooded killer." Keystone stumbled to the desk and fumbled in the desk, grabbing and lifting a tiny booklet and flipped the pages, reading out loud to Katt. "Let's see. Ya got a right to an attorney."

Austin stared at Keystone. "Fifth Amendment, Sheriff. The accused has the right to hear the Fifth Amendment of the US Constitution."

"Okay. Ya don't have to talk, honey." Keystone chuckled, flipping the page.

Austin turned with a stern face of an attorney to see Katt. "Miss Kattrell as a future defendant in a criminal murder trial, you may not be deposed without your consent. The US Constitution Fifth Amendment gives you the right not to give testimony against yourself. Do you understand this explanation?"

"I can make her talk." Keystone moved to the prison cell, saying with a grin and a nod.

"By what means, sir?" Frank looked up with a sour frown to see the ass of Keystone.

"A depo discover. I need to discover the truth and nothing but the truth." Keystone laughed with a nod, standing in front of her prison cell.

"You are correct, Sheriff. In some jurisdictions..." Austin said.

"This here jurisdiction..." Keystone turned with a sneer to see Austin.

"Some geographical jurisdictions provide depositions taken for purposes of discovery, making the defendant's constitutional rights void, although such a right must be established by a statute or a law." Austin said.

Keystone said with a sneer again to Austin. "I'm the law here, Berrington," he turned with a smile to see Katt. "Okay, honey. Talk to me?"

"I and others have noted that you are most certainly abusing the law, Sheriff Keystone." Austin turned with a frown and a nod to see Frank. Frank frowned at the ass of Keystone feeling upset with the illegal interrogation of Kattleen.

Keystone turned with a sneer to Austin. "Watch it there, Berrington," he looked down to the book, flipping the pages. "Let's see. Ya have the right to a lawyer, since Sawyer is all doped up. So ya can use Polly here for the time being. Since, I got a shit load of other questions for you. Call Polly, Linda." Linda nodded and moved to the desk landline, dialing the numbers. Keystone frowned to the book. "Let's see. Ya don't have to talk, but it be best to talk to me and Polly when he gets here for your case and defense and stuff." He looked up with a grin and a nod to see her. "Do ya understand your rights, honey? Good." He turned and moved back to the desk, tossing the booklet on the surface, spinning to Katt again. The girl was not going to cooperate with him, but Polly was a nice guy and could the answers for Keystone from her, since she was scared of him as he was the sheriff of Lee County.

"I would suggest to list each one of her civil rights by the correct number," Austin said.

Keystone waved his hand, staring at Katt. "Did ya hear your rights? Speak? She heard them. She ain't deaf." He spun and moved back to the desk, grabbing a chair.

"Sheriff?" Austin frowned.

"Ya heard her rights like her. She's mad and angry she got caught." Keystone lifted and toted the desk chair.

Linda dropped the landline telephone receiver, saying with a frown to the ass of Keystone. "Willie, Polly can't come right now. He's babysitting the kids until Lucy returns home."

Keystone swung and moved back to Katt, dropping the chair in front of her prison bars, and sat, leaning his nose into the cool metal. "No matter. She can see him, tomorrow morning. I have lots of questions for you, young lady. Why did you kill them nice babies and old folks? Next question, how did you kill those people with a gun? A needle? Some rat poison? What's your weapon? Where's it at, honey?"

"Her hands." Tiberius held the prison bars, yelling with a nod, looking at the nose profile on Keystone.

"Shut up, dipstick, before I gag you." Ray looked and yelled with a sour tone to Tiberius.

Keystone stared with a sour frown to Katt. "This is your time to confess to me. If ya don't and you're guilty as hell ya'll die a very painful death..."

"Sheriff!?" Austin sat in a chair next to Frank, saying with a sneer.

Keystone turned with a smirk and a nod to see Austin. "It's true. Those boys in Tallahassee make jokes about screwing up on purpose the gas and hypos on the death rowers, so it takes lots longer to die than the usual painful, suffering, yelling, crying, and screaming..."

"Sheriff!" Austin said, exhaling with a huff of annoyance before he attacked the older man. "Sheriff, may I talk with the young girl?"

Keystone raised his palms, saying with a sour frown to Austin, and stood. "Give it a go, Berrington." He back stepped, standing behind the chair, staring at Katt.

Austin moved and occupied the chair in front of the prison bars, staring with a stern face to Katt, who seemed to stare right through Austin's soul. "Miss Kattrell, if you are the real Miss Kattrell that I have been investigating, following, tracing, stalking, trailing, chasing, and tracking, since June. You are a very smart and clever girl, who has been avoiding my pursuit and leaving no clues of your whereabouts. No evidence of your existence except for the DMV license with your old Miami address which was tracked to your personally vehicle caught in the Interstate 95 bridge explosion. You closed your accounts, files, records, and databases while erasing your prior life. I'm very intrigued with your deception ways. I must admit. I've a list of questions for you also. You figured out that I was hunting for you and planned your escape with the mastermind of a magician. Poof." He flung his fingers with a soft chuckle. "Here one minute. Gone the next. You naturally quit your job, emptied the bank, broke the apartment lease, and destroyed your car to flee Miami while setting up another residence in an isolated part of western Florida without anyone person knowing the truth about you. I'm truly astonished and intrigued. I believe that I would have never found you if not for the intervention of God Almighty who had assisted in locating you for me. I don't believe in luck, Miss Kattrell. I have completed my dissertation. I believe it is your turn."

Katt blinked her eyelashes open and shut to Austin without offering any words or emotions.

Keystone chuckled and cleared his throat. "Let's see and start from the top again. The weapon?"

Katt blinked her eyelashes open and shut to Austin without offering any words or emotions again.

"She uses her hands." Tiberius held the bars of his prison cell, shouting to the nose profile on Keystone.

"Her hands?" Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Tiberius.

"You do understand that this is the reason that she is called the angel of death." Tiberius said with a grin and a nod to Keystone.

"Dipshit, shut up." Ray moved to Tiberius, banging the police stick on the iron as Tiberius back stepped, holding up his hands.

"Miss Kattrell, what was the weapon you used? Needles? Rags? Food? Drink?" Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Katt.

"Her hands," Tiberius shouted in place.

Keystone turned with a sour frown to see Tiberius inside his prison cell. "How'da ya know? She used her hands, dipshit?"

"I saw her kill the stiffs on the cliff. They were alive before they were stiffs. She touched them with her hands. Now, they're dead, this morning." Tiberius said with nod and a frown, moving closer to the iron bars.

"You did?" Keystone frowned to Tiberius.

"I did." Tiberius held his hands to the iron bars, saying with a nod and a frown.

"If I were a betting man, I'd place my good money on your yellow bitch girlfriend. She killed them. She kidnapped Sawyer. She's dead. So that's means you're going to fry for everything." Keystone jabbed a finger to Tiberius with a laugh and a grin.

"We will see, Sheriff." Tiberius said with a smirk, back stepping and sitting on top of his cot but watching and listening to the conversation.

"Gawd, the man's too loco." Keystone shook his cowboy hat, staring Tiberius.

"Sheriff, do you believe the girls were working together on the murders?" Austin frowned and stared at Katt.

Keystone shook his cowboy hat. "Nope. She was alone. The yellow banana wanted the money like dipshit over there. That dead girl wasn't a residence of Ruby Beach either. Never saw her before this afternoon. Now, she's dead inside a cooler..."

"Her body was flown to the Miami-Dade morgue, this afternoon. Dr. Underhill, the Dade County Coroner is overseeing the autopsy and lab tests results. We'll contact him when we arrive in Miami for his autopsy results." Frank said to the ass of Keystone.

Keystone said with a grin and a nod to the rear hair roots on Austin. "Ya boys are leaving soon I hear. I'm planning a town-wide party. Want ya all to come and celebrate my capture..."

"Capture?" Austin stood, turning with a sour frown to see Keystone. "Are you referring Miss Kattrell?"

Keystone said with a chuckle and a smile. "That's the only prisoner I got. That's famous too," he pointed to Tiberius. "Are you taking him off my hands, Berrington?"

"Mr. Clark will accompany us by private jet back home to Miami." Austin removed a piece of paper from the borrowed jacket of Frank, extending the paper to Keystone. "We will move Miss Kattrell within the next two days once her containment cell..."

"She," Keystone gasped and yelled, flinging his arms. "She's mine. I found her. I keep her. She stays here for the big murder trial in Ruby Beach."

Austin lifted the paper next to his nose. "I'm so sorry, Willie. I'm afraid not. Miami jurisdiction has first pick. I have two sets of extradition papers signed by the Florida governor. She leaves for Miami in two days."

"Crap. So you get all the glory and money." Keystone stomped side to side with an angry face.

"Sir, I am a very rich man. The instant glory is not needed. I seek justice for all the lost souls including my godson, Clifford Milton Burton, the third." Austin extended the paper to Keystone again.

Keystone snatched the paper, looking down and reading it. "Fine, I lose the girl. But I get the money all the 150 million dollars..."

"No." Frank stared at the ass of Keystone, shaking his skull. He was not giving the greedy man any money. Tiberius and the dead yellow banana had found Miss Kattrell first. Then the terminally ill female died by Stu's accurate hand. Clark would die for beating and kidnapping Austin and Tom by a federal court or the Quartet, whoever gets to him first. Frank smirked to the ass of Keystone. "Technically Mr. Clark, and I use your exact words Willie, captured her. He is incarcerated until his court trial of attempted murder and kidnapping charges of both Austin and Tom are resolved. Therefore, the money is frozen."

Keystone turned and stomped to Frank with an angry face as Stu shifted and aimed the shotgun barrel at the sheriff for threatening his brothers. Keystone back stepped in shock, flinging his hands and yelling. "Crap ya'll. This here town found her. She probably killed someone else. We just ain't found the body, yet."

"Did you kill someone here in Ruby Beach, Miss Kattrell?" Austin turned with a grin to see Katt.

Keystone pointed with a sneer to Austin. "You owe us. I need all that money to cover all the extra cost for cars, gas, deputies, food, hotel, overtime..."

Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "Very well, Sheriff Keystone! Your argument is valid and sound. Your claims are reasonable. Quartet Associates will reimburse you for the above mentioned inventory. Please send me a detailed itemized list of expenses to my office in Coral Gables..."

The door opened and closed.

A set of new guests entered the jail house.

"Right. When do I get the check?" Keystone rubbed his hands together, anticipating the money.

Frank said, "As soon as, I get the detailed itemized listing signed by you, Willie."

He clapped and pointed to Frank, saying with a grin and a nod. "Right. Working on it, now."

"Very good!" Austin pointed the QA guards, who stood in the rear of the room. "Sheriff, I want to introduce my security team. They will stay the night and watch both the prisoners. If you would be so kind to supply them the emergency contact information, then they will contact you, as well, if something strange occurs here inside the jail house."

"Right. Thanks for the help, Berrington!" Keystone pointed to Ray. Ray turned and moved to the Quartet Associate guards, whispering the information as the QA guard wrote down the information in his notepad.

"My pleasure," Austin said with a nod and a smile.

Keystone pointed with a nod and a grin to Sawyer, holding his belt. "Help the doc with Sawyer, Ron."

Ron moved and grabbed the IV bag on the rolling pole as Stu lowered the shotgun to the wall corner, moving and lifting Tom into his arms, carrying the bulk on Tom's weight. Frank stood and grabbed his medical bag, following behind Austin, Keystone, and Ron.

They all left the jail house and moved into a dull sunset.

The QA guard team pulled a set of individual chairs into the four wall corners, planting the gear of equipment and guns over the floor for a night's duty as each wore an unemotional face, tense body muscles, and ready war painted faces for any upcoming surprise battle. Exposed eyelids darted back and forth from Katt to Tiberius.

Tiberius cuddled in a ball on top of the bed cot, closing his eyelids for some sleep.

Katt exhaled with a puff of intrigue. She had learned a lot of new information, tonight.

She was moving to Miami for her legal court trial out of the tiny town of Ruby Beach, so she did not have to utilize the local in-bred lawyer of Ruby Beach. And she might have a great chance of receiving a very good criminal lawyer from the big bad international city with big ideas and big plans to save her fanny.

Katt sat quietly on top of the cot, reviewing and recalling every piece of information exchange as told by Nell, Tiberius, Austin, and Keystone while formulating more clues of her innocence.

Nell had killed all those people at the hospital and it was not Katt.

Katt surveyed the room.

The jail door was closed and locked, leaving only the Quartet Associate guard team, who are hired and trained security people and dressed in battle gear with their pulled weapons resting on top of a table or in a lap.

So she was safe for the night from any and all outsiders, rolling sideways, closing her eyelashes.

Tomorrow was another interesting day of her life.

2:02 p.m.

Limousine ride south on Ruby Boulevard

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

The limousine drove on the highway back to the hotel.

Medically, the human body could heal with food, sleep, and sometimes with guilt. Austin felt guilty for finding Tom, too late. He allowed his baby brother to be captured, kidnapped, and beaten by those vile assholes. "Greedy bastard," Austin turned with a snarl to see the nose profile on Frank. "How's Tom?"

"Keystone. He wants money. Everyone wants money. The world revolves around money. You know that fact too well, Austin." Stu sat next to Austin, looking out the window at the white sand of the Gulf of Mexico.

"He's resting in a light sleep. Once we get back into the hotel suite, Tom goes directly into his bedroom for the rest of night and tomorrow also. No jokes, kidding or insults with him. Understand me? Or I'll beat the shit out of ya." Frank looked to each brother with a sneer and turned and tapped on the IV drip.

Stu turned with a grin and a wink to Austin. "Jeezus. Mangrove just threatened us, the prim and proper physician, historian, and gentleman of the South Florida," he chuckled at Frank's guts for gambling with his personal life force against Gage.

"Enough pup." Austin turned with a sneer to Gage. "We hear. We obey. Tom needs to rest and recover, so he can prosecute this girl."

"Really!?" Stu sneered to Austin.

"Really, Stu! You don't sound convinced." Austin recognized that nasty timber from Gage when Stu was pissed off at him, particularly now.

"What was all that, Austin? I am intrigued. I am astonished. Gawd damn, Austin. This isn't a new toy to play with for fun playtime. She's a killer." Stu frowned to Austin.

"She's defiant." Frank pinged the IV drip on Tom's arm.

"Ya mean disobedient, insolent, insubordinate, rebellious, bold, sneaky, quiet..." Stu said.

"Enough Stu." Austin growled to Stu, feeling the pressure, the tension, and the conversation eating away at his raw nerve endings as he was beaten, tired, and hungry too.

"How would you act if you were jailed like an animal on display at the fucking zoo?" Frank turned with a sneer to see Stu.

Stu turned with a sour frown to see Frank. "Don't get defensive, Franklin. I didn't murder 8,063 innocent kids and grandmas."

Frank viewed Austin. "Miss Kattrell needs to be moved into the Miami lockup with a single secured and guarded private jail cell drawn from the proposed plans for containment of her disease made from the polymer plastic not steel or concrete as we predicted, last week. Let me state, first and foremost. I am a physician. I took an oath to save lives, all lives."

"Evil ones," Stu laughed.

"All lives." Frank snapped with fury to Stu.

"You saved Tom's life. He's evil." Stu chuckled.

Frank mouth spat and snarled at Stu. "Shut up asshole. Tom was dehydrated, beaten, and threaten by those people, so was she," he thumbed the jail house behind his collar bone.

Stu dropped his mouth. "Good gawd. You're claiming her victim, Frank. In my opinion, Tiberius should've finished the damn job, then we all can go back home to Coral Beach."

"Leave. Damn it, Stu. You're not any better than the bullies on the beach and the idiots at the sheriff's office." Frank sneered.

Stu whipped out his mobile telephone for gassing up the QA jet, typing a text to the pilot, saying with a nod and a grin. "I will. I miss my wife and my golf game."

Austin said. "Please stay, Stu. We have lots of work to do by starting construction of the containment cell, pronto. We foot the bill too."

Frank frowned and viewed Austin, "Big bill?"

"Ginormous bill," Stu replaced his mobile telephone in his jacket and pulled out his laptop over his kneecaps, typing.

"Pay it." Austin nodded to Frank.

"Fine," Frank nodded and turned to check the IV placement on Tom,

Stu typed and emailed the people about the construction, engineering, and security working specs for the proper environment condition as the Quartet had uncovered that the killer was a female with a nasty bite, touch, and attitude.
Saturday June 19th

8:41 a.m.

Ruby Beach Hotel (three miles south of jail house)

Hotel suite on Tom Sawyer, III

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The unlocked penthouse suit housed Stu, who was hunched over two computers, wearing a set of metal headgear which was draped around a thick neck. There were three telephones landlines on his left and two satellite phones next to his other elbow along with an assortment of colored papers, scattering around the round dining room table.

Frank entered with a nod and a smile, seeing the humped over back spine on Stu. "Good morning, Stu." He stood behind Gage, sniffing with his inflamed nostrils. "You stink to..."

"Back off, Frank!" Stu sneered and typed on the keyboard.

"I..."

"Not now, Frank." Stu sneered and typed.

"Babysit, Tom..."

"Done," Stu sneered and typed.

Frank back stepped and moved away from stinky Stu, walking down an empty hall and greeted with a smile three beautiful young girls, who were standing at the hotel door on Tom.

He motioned, opening the door and leading them to Tom's bedroom suite.

The three lovely young girls marched in their sexy swings to Tom, who rested inside the bed mattress. They stand in a row in front of foot board, wiggling and waving to Tom.

Tom sat upright, wearing his naked sunburned chest, slamming his body into the head board of the bed frame, grinning with a silly looking red sunburn over his pale face.

Frank waved to the three girls. "Thomas, these girls are going to assist you with food, aloe, bathing, and anything else you want. Stu is next door working on the containment cell for the prisoner transport."

Tom giggled and looked at each pretty young girl. "Right. Got it. Gawd. Frank, you're a prince." He wiggled side to side with a giggle and a grin in his bed mattress.

Frank smiled. "You are most welcome, Thomas. I want you to get healed, soonest," using one of Tom's silly invented American slang.

"Don't tell Jane." Tom winked at the pretty girls.

"What plays here, stays here." Austin stood against the window, crossing his arms, and drooled over the pretty girls too.

The girls advanced, touching and rubbing over Tom. Tom giggled and wiggled inside his bed mattress. "Right. Not cheating. Need help with eating, bathing, and stuff..."

Frank said with a nod and a smile, watching the girls tickle his brother. "Tom, you're under my personal care as a physician. I ordered this."

"Good point. Ladies, my name's Tom." He giggled from their soft touch.

"Let's go before I puke." Austin passed the nose bridge of Frank to the closed door. Frank pivoted and pulled up beside Austin. Austin said. "Tom is not going to..." They left Tom's suite, moving down an empty hallway of the penthouse suite, where only the Quartet stayed for the manhunt of Kattrell.

Frank exhaled with a huff of worry, moving with Austin. "Tom is in no condition to think about sex much less performing any acts. And he's totally devoted to his wife."

"All of you are." Austin said with a nod and a grin.

Frank smiled. "Damn right and proud to kill for it."

"Especially, Stu." Austin chuckled.

"That's an extra especially proud to kill from our bro Stuart."

"Stu's tied up with the construction and exhibits proudly a very grumpy mood."

"I wished that I could stab him with my little tap needle. He needs some happy potion," Frank chuckled with Austin.

"I'd pay a billion dollars to see that happen, Frank."

Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "And you'd be paying for my elaborate funeral expenses, also."

"You look tired," Austin turned with a frown to see the nose profile on Frank.

Frank yawned, rubbing his tired eyeballs. "I feel it. I sat up with Tom double checking his concession, changing his drip pad, slapping aloe on his second degree sunburn. He's the lawyer prosecuting her. Whether I like it or not the murder trial needs him."

"Agreed. Why don't you get some rest, Frank? Tom's getting pampered and Stu's occupied for the rest of the day?"

Frank looked down to see the casual attire of Austin which Berrington used for all his professional meetings and not for yachting, saying with a frown. "Where are you going, Austin?"

"The jail to check on our prisoner." Austin smirked.

Frank veered in front of Austin to his hotel suite before Austin entered the elevator, yelling. "I'm coming with you. Please wait for me, Austin." Austin stood in the archway, hearing weird sounds of crash, pong, and boom. Frank moved and returned with a smile and holding many items between his cuddled arms.

"Blankets, pillows, towels..." Austin surveyed the hotel items.

Frank nodded. "I'm paying for it. Don't worry."

"Good idea, Frank. What about food?"

"Gawd. She can't have much in terms of chemicals and preservations. She hasn't eaten like Tom. She needs to be hospitalized, Austin. She looked very weak, yesterday."

"Room service?"

Frank shook his skull. "Crap. I didn't think about ordering something from the hotel restaurant."

Austin shook his skull. "That'll take an hour. We need to go. Water?"

Frank elbowed and nodded to the food cart in his room next to the television. "There are water bottles over there. Grab them."

Austin moved and gathered numerous the water bottles, saying. "We order something from the prison jail. I'm hungry, also." He turned and left Frank' suite. They moved to the elevator.

"In between my physician duties, I set up an 888-hot line number in our office for the wonderful honest Rubians to call, collect, and track their money. I ordered all invoices signed by Sheriff Willie Keystone to be paid as soon as possible. The checks will be shipped by an express mail service with same or next day service back to Keystone's office." Frank said.

Austin hit the button. The door opened. They scooted into the elevator, turning and facing the hallway. The door closed. Austin turned with a sneer to see the nose profile on Frank. "Greedy lot. They're going to inflate their prices and cheat us."

Frank turned with a sour frown and a nod to Austin. "I know that. Keystone's right. He mentioned that this little town found her. Someone from the little town reported that she was here." The elevator carriage stopped and opened the door. They exited out the elevator, moving to the lobby.

Austin nodded to the glass doors of the lobby entrance. "I'm beginning to think that someone wasn't a true Rubian maybe more like a tattle-tail."

"You're probably right, but we got her. Let's pay these people off and leave here as soon as possible." Frank exhaled with a huff of deep emotions. "This is more about the money than justice."

Austin said. "I'm very glad that you see the universe from my point of view, Frank."

"If she is guilty or not, she doesn't deserve to be starved, tortured or abused like an animal. Shit. We walk upright and talk in complete sentences and that used to be a sign of intelligence."

"...not for the good citizens of Ruby Beach." Austin frowned. They left the building, moving to the limousine which was parked in front of the hotel as the driver nodded without speaking and held the rear door. Austin and Frank slid over the long bench, sitting on the opposite of each other.

The driver closed the door, moving to the driver's seat. He drove away from the hotel and onto the highway.

9:16 a.m.

Limousine ride north Ruby Beach Boulevard

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Frank rested the items next to him. "Did you read Magnum's report on Clark, Junior?"

Austin looked down and pulled out the paper file from Tom's briefcase on the floor. "Tom recognized Clark while we are kidnapped together. Tom told me all those facts also. Tom thought that the guy would kill him. Honestly, I thought so, too." He sat back, lifting and reading the paper.

"Clark almost did." Frank said.

"Revenge was his goal from the start with Tom, us, and Quartet Associates and not Katt. She just fell into his lap. To change the subject, why can't FBI finger print that body?" He pinged the paper, staring at Frank.

Frank shook his skull. "I'm not surprised, Austin. Her tissues were yellow. She was clearly dying of some type of deadly disease."

Austin looked down and read the paper. "The FBI couldn't get fingerprints or toe prints. I interpret the final last two lines of the report. 'The FBI agents figured out that she was a prostitute down by the Miami River paired with her current 'John' named Clark, Junior. They were replaying a tale of Bonnie and Clyde searching and finding the angel of death and then finally would receive the pre-offered bounty reward money of 150 million dollars. However, she caught the HIV virus years before and then died of a discharged weapon on a limestone cliff face in Ruby Beach, Florida." He looked up with a frown to see Frank. "I don't understand the conclusion of the FBI."

"The taser blast, which normally paralyzed a person, had electrified her. Fried her like potato chips." Frank chuckled.

Austin grunted. "Then she died. Did she feel that?"

Frank frowned. "No. She would've been stunned and dropped into a comatose-like medical state then died and passed down into hell."

Austin exhaled with a deep breath, saying with a nod to Frank. "I feel better. So many deaths, Frank? There really isn't any need for one more."

Frank parted his lips in shock, staring at Badass Berrington. "Gawd. Am I sitting with bossy Austin or sissy Thomas?"

"Eyeing death gives you a new prospective on life, Frank." Austin turned with a frown to see the non-bullet proof side window.

Frank shook his skull and his hands. "No. No. No. You have faced death many, many times before. You don't get all mushy and pussy filled. What's up, Austin?"

Austin turned with a sour frown to see Frank. "I'm wondering about the incompetency of the FBI crimes laboratory in Miami."

"The FBI did their best. The tissue lost its elasticity in her weaken biological state from the top layer of epidermis skin which was shredded all the way down into the second or third or maybe, the fourth layer. We only possess eight layers of skin."

Austin frowned. "Ouch. Does that hurt?"

"Not really. The skin would peel similar to a sunburn. With a set of growing healthy cells, the epidermis would have grown back. Based on my visual eyes and smelly nose, she was dying. Nothing on that girl was growing back," he said with a nod and a smile.

"That creates a problem then." Austin said with a nod and puzzle brow.

"A problem?" Frank frowned with mystery.

"Which one is the real Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell?" Austin nodded with mystery.

Frank turned with a sour frown to see the non-bullet proof side window and looked at Berrington. "It could possibly be a problem, Austin."

"Can we..."

"Can we what, Austin?"

"Could we get the body?"

"The body," Frank frowned. "What body, Austin?"

"The prostitute!?" Austin frowned to Frank.

Frank sniggered. "You want a dead prostitute colored yellow. Why don't you let me get some of the girls at the hotel? Hell. You can have Tom's. I'll get him some more..."

"Damn it to hell, Frank. Not for sex."

"I believe you need to get fucked. You're really tense, Austin." Frank chuckled, thinking about some of the other pretty girls at the hotel for Austin's night.

Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance, rattling the paper up and down. "Listen to me. I want the dead body for medical tests to determine if the real Katt is dead or alive."

Frank raised his palms. "Wait a minute. We got 'the' girl."

"We got 'a' girl. There were two girls on the cliff. Two girls who looked very similar in height, weight, hair color, facial features, southern accents..."

"Wait." Frank narrowed his eyelids. "How do you know Miss Kattrell speaks with a southern accent?" He exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Austin, what else happened to you on that cliff?"

"No." Austin looked down to the paper.

Frank frowned. "No. What the hell response is that? You told Keystone that she didn't speak."

Austin looked up to see Frank. "I told Keystone that the yellow Bitch did the talking. That statement was true."

"Something else happened? Tell me?" Frank ordered with a sour frown.

"No." Austin stared at Frank.

"Fuck you. Tom will tell me." Frank nodded.

"Ask him?" Austin chuckled.

"I will. I'm calling him, right now." Frank whipped out his mobile telephone from his jacket, pressing the familiar number, placing inside his eardrum as it rung and connected. "Tom."

Pause.

"Tom, stop giggling."

Pause.

"Who's this? This is Frank." He frowned on his mobile telephone.

Pause.

"I have a question, Tom. Tom! Pay attention to me." Frank ordered with a surly attitude.

Austin chuckled to annoy Mangrove, "Too much fun."

Frank yelled at Berrington with the mobile telephone hugging off his ear "Shut up! Not you, Tom! I have a question."

Pause.

"Thomas!"

Pause.

"That is much better. What happened to Austin on the cliff, Thomas?"

Pause.

"Repeat the damn question? Tom, get back on this phone before I contact Stuart."

Pause.

"Good man! Listen to me! What happened to Austin on that cliff with Mr. Clark, you, and Miss Kattrell?"

Pause.

"Nothing! What the hell does that mean, Tom?"

Pause.

"Know nothings. You guess so." Frank jerked down his mobile telephone from his eardrum, swishing it shut, pocketing it back into his jacket, and said with a sour frown to Austin. "Nothing, my ass," exhaling with a huff of frustration at all of his brothers.

Austin said with a chuckle and a nod. "Tom always tells the truth."

"You two made a deal." Frank sneered.

"No deal."

"You have some vitally important additional information. You're not playing nice and sharing with the other children, Austin." Frank frowned.

Austin chuckled. "You sound like an elementary hallway monitor, Frank."

"I'm getting mad like a Catholic head mistress. Tell me? What happened to you? How the hell do you know that girl speaks with a southern accent? Because, I did not know that tidbit of data. She hasn't spoken to us on the cliff or to the police at the jail, yesterday. Hmm!"

"Let me just emphasis here. There were 'two' girls on the cliff top. I wanna know the answer to two simple questions. Who I got inside the jail cell? And who is the mysterious yellow banana inside the morgue?" He nodded to Frank.

Frank nodded back. "All right. I'll leave that for now. That's a fair question. We'll find out, together."

"Good. We agree. Let's see if asshole Clark will reveal his secrets. He wanted to talk yesterday. Dumb shit Willie wouldn't allow him to bark, so we'll steal his thunder." Austin smirked.

"Keystone or Clark?"

"Both.".

"And Jace calls me a devious son of a bitch." Frank frowned.

Austin winked. "I didn't earn my nickname for nothing, Frank."

"Ruby Beach Jail House, Dr. Berrington," the driver said via the rear speaker.

9:25 a.m.

Ruby Beach Police Station (two miles south from the hotel)

Jail setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Austin and Frank slid out the limousine, moving to the closed door. Austin moved up the steps and stopped, rapping on the door, hearing.

"Password?" The voice behind the door shouted.

"Kitty Katt." Austin shouted back.

The door opened.

Austin saw a stern face of QA security team captain, moving and scanning the tiny office of Sheriff Keystone. "Problems?" He stood in front of the captain.

"Only him," the captain thumbed behind his collar bone to Tiberius. "He wouldn't shut up singing and talking, all night."

"Her?" Frank moved to Katt, observing her medical condition.

"Sleeping," the captain said.

"Go back to hotel, sleep, and eat. Frank has surprises for all of you." Austin slapped the collar bone of QA captain, saying with a wink and a nod. "Thanks guys. Send in QA C team tonight for their guard duty and pack up your gear. We leave tomorrow on Sunday morning at eight sharp."

"Yes sir. Will do?" The QA captain nodded, pointing to the doorway as his QA guard team moved and exited into the bright sun and into the limousine.

Austin moved and stared at Katt, seeing that she was curled up on the cot, sleeping peacefully.

Tiberius stood and held the iron bars with both hands, hearing and seeing the new noise commotion.

"How is she?" Frank stared at Katt.

Tiberius snarled to the nose profile on Frank. "Dead. No snoring."

Katt slept on her side, facing Frank, drooling and breathing in a shallow rhythm with the steady REM eye movement in her deep slumber.

Frank pushed and squeezed two wool blankets between her iron bars. The fabric quietly dropped on top of the tile as he gently tossed four water bottles on the blankets with perfect accuracy.

He saw the gifts from Frank, yelling into Frank's eardrum. "She's dead. She don't need that stuff. Where's my water?"

"Did they feed her?" Frank stared at Katt.

"Who gives a shit?" Tiberius shouted.

Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance, turning with a sour frown to see Austin.

Austin rolled his eyeballs, searching the space for a chair.

Frank turned and left both Tiberius and Katt, searching a short refrigerator in the wall corner, squatting and opening the door, and gagged from the nasty smell, slamming the door closed. "Forget that. Something died last year and they still can't find it," he spun around, moving and rummaging around at the police desk, and pulled on the drawer handle. "Locked."

"Don't trust the prisoners." Austin chuckled, pulling two chairs and placing near the steel bars closer to Tiberius rather than Katt.

"Guess so. Shit." He banged his fist on the table surface, turned, and moved to the empty chair next to Austin.

"The closest restaurant?" Austin stared at Tiberius.

"Dee Dee's Hamburgers is down the road three miles." Tiberius pointed the wall, saying with a smile and a nod.

"Did they feed you?" Austin did not really give a shit about the medical condition of Tiberius but he did want some more secret information.

He shook his skull. "Hell no. I'm dying of starvation."

"I'll call Stu." Austin extended his palm with a grin to Frank.

Frank chuckled, knowing his big brother, too well. "That asshole won't order food for her wake." He pulled out his mobile telephone from his jacket, placing inside the empty palm of Austin. Berrington had returned the issued mobile phone back Gage after his rescue from the limestone cliff.

"How many do you want?" Austin pressed the familiar icon on the mobile telephone which speed dialed to Stu, lifting and placing the phone to his eardrum.

"What's on the menu?" Frank crossed both his arms and his legs, staring at Tiberius, greatly desiring to kill the bastard and not question him, after Tiberius beat his brothers black and blue.

Austin commanded into the mobile phone. "Stu, order sixteen hamburgers, fries, vanilla milk shakes, and chocolate chip cookies from Dee Dee's Hamburger's around the corner from the hotel and pay for them to delivery here to the jail house."

Pause.

"Who for? Frank's trying to gain weight." Austin turned with a grin and wink to Frank. Frank chuckled.

Pause.

"Thank you, Stu." Austin lowered and handed the mobile telephone to Frank.

"Hard time?" Frank swished the phone off, grinning with the true answer, replacing the phone inside his jacket pocket.

"You don't want me to repeat his eloquent response." Austin smiled as Tiberius laughed.

"He's doing it." Frank said with a smile to annoy Austin.

"Hell yeah. I'm the boss." Austin said with a grin for fun play.

"Sixteen?" Frank frowned for fun play.

"Four for me. Four for you. Four for him. Four for her." Austin pointed to Tiberius and Katt.

"She can't eat four hamburgers." Tiberius shook his skull, thumbing to Katt.

"Well you can get what she doesn't want. How's that?" Austin grinned.

"Okay." Tiberius said with a nod and a smile.

"While we wait for our food order, would you be kindly interested in telling and sharing your information with us?" Austin nodded with a grin.

"Hell. I'll cut a deal." Tiberius stood taller, saying with a smile and a nod to Austin.

Austin said. "I cannot promise anything, but your cooperation will be very helpful. I'll personally speak with the judge about your case in Miami."

"Drop the charges." Tiberius nodded.

"I'll drop my charges, but I must speak with Tom." Austin said.

"Speak to him. I'll talk. I possess all kinds of stuff, evil shit for all of you." Tiberius smiled with wickedness.

"Go." Austin leaned back into the metal chair, crossing his arms.

"Recording this?" Tiberius frowned to Austin.

"No." Frank said.

"We aren't dipshits like Keystone." Austin nodded to Tiberius.

"Good enough." Tiberius nodded, thumbing the girl. "Mouse told me about her. Mouse was an undercover police officer from the city of Boyer, Florida."

"She lived in Boyer, Florida." Frank frowned.

"She is from Boyer, Florida." Tiberius nodded.

"She is? Does that mean she was born there in Boyer, Florida?" Frank said.

Tiberius nodded. "Yes. Mouse told me that she had followed Katt to Miami and Ruby Beach, because she had murdered her Father."

"Katt? You called the girl, Katt." Frank said.

"That's her name." Tiberius nodded.

"That's a nick name. Correct?" Austin asked.

"What's her real name?" Frank asked.

"Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. Mouse told me her nickname as a child was Katt." Tiberius said.

"You mentioned the murder of her father." Austin said.

"Mouse didn't give me details on her father's death, but she found out that Katt was killing the old people inside the local town's nursing home with poison. The same poison, you saw from the exhumed dead bodies in Miami with the yellow livers." Tiberius said with a nod and a grin.

Frank said with a puzzled brow. "Mouse told you about the yellow livers. Do you mean to say? She explained how the toxins worked that was discovered from the CDC lab tests performed on the carved 8,063 exhumed graves from North Miami Beach to Homestead?"

"Katt didn't talk to me about the livers. Mouse called it a mystery poison." Tiberius said.

"Still a mystery to the lab boys." Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration.

"Mouse said the bilirubin stuff came from the liver. And it's the key. She told me. When the body has too much poison and can't get rid of it, the liver turns yellow. Katt found a formula. I guess. She stole a formula from that scientist she killed. He was from the military base in Pensacola, a major city close to Boyer, her home town." Tiberius said.

"A place? A base? Did she mention a name?" Austin asked.

Tiberius said with a frown. "Mouse didn't mention a name. She was sometimes vague with her stories and left out details, since I ain't a cop..."

"...only a kidnapper." Frank growled in angry.

Tiberius jabbed a finger to Frank. "I will ignore that crude statement, since I am trying to help you people find the truth of what Katt can do and does when she kills people."

Austin unwrapped his arms, exhaling with a huff of frustration. "Continue, Mr. Clark," he turned with a frown to see the nose profile on Mangrove. "Please listen, Frank."

"Katt found a formula that can kill people. She killed the scientist and the father of Mouse in Boyer. Mouse said that the formula is inside her body, creating the poison. So she touches you and then you die like the real angel of death can do from heaven." Tiberius said with a nod and grin.

"What do you think, Frank?" Austin turned with a frown to see the nose profile on Mangrove.

Frank parted his lips, staring at Tiberius. "Damn. If this isn't an intriguing theory for the medical journals? I can't really comment without more detailed laboratory tests." He turned with a frown to Austin. "I'm calling Jace, asking him to work up some prognosis on livers that the lab boys might have missed when I return to the hotel, this afternoon."

Austin nodded. "Good idea," he turned with a smile and a nod to see Tiberius. "What else do you want to share with us, Mr. Clark?"

"You tried to get Katt to touch Tom." Frank said with angry, since wanted his personal questions answered, before he killed the son of bitch with his bare hands.

"Yeah," Tiberius meekly said.

"Are you afraid to touch Katt?" Frank smirked. Mangrove greatly desired for the real angel of death to touch Tiberius and kill the son of bitch dead for beating his brothers black and blue.

Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance, turning with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Mangrove, since Frank might try to kill Tiberius with one of his deadly tap needles, and ordered as the boss of the Quartet. "Stop it Frank." He looked to Tiberius, saying with a nod. "Tell us more about Mouse, please?"

"Mouse was an only child and attended the local high school in Boyer and then moved to Miami following Katt as a police officer, not much else to tell." Tiberius shrugged his shoulders.

"Really!?" Frank crossed his arms, saying with fury, wanting to kill the son of bitch, now.

Tiberius frowned. "Mouse hated Katt. Mouse graduated high school and moved from Boyer, knowing that it was Katt who was home-schooled by her guardian named Dik..."

"Dokey." Frank said.

Tiberius pointed with a nod to Frank. "Yeah, that's it. Dokey was her guardian and homeschooled Katt at the house, not at the school. Katt worked at the local nursing home on Sunday nights from six to eight in the evening."

"Are you certain Mouse explained that correctly?" Frank narrowed his eyelids.

"Yeah, Katt worked for Mouse's father on Sunday night, only. The sheriff wouldn't let her work any other day, because she was a minor or something." Tiberius said.

"Sheriff, old or young?" Austin frowned.

Tiberius said. "I don't know. Mouse said he replaced his elderly father. The new sheriff protected Katt too. That's what Mouse said. Mouse hated him for that too. Katt's smart. She figured out how to kill the old people at the nursing home. The deaths made the old man rich, millions of dollars rich. And Mouse said that Katt was screwing him for fun to keep him from discovering that she was killing the old people."

"Mr. Hartmann didn't know about the murders in his own nursing home." Austin turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Frank.

"Hell no. Mouse said he was a dumbass. He just liked sex with any girl. Katt screwed him. His wife screwed him. The old guy even had sex with Mouse when she turned fifteen," chuckled Tiberius with his nasty thoughts. "Mouse told all those fantastic stories about her birth town in Boyer. Everyone was whores. Gay men were doing boys. Lesbian women were doing girls. Mothers were doing sons. Fathers were doing daughters. Hartmann wasn't her real father. So it was okay," laughing.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Can we please stick with the topic of the mystery poisons, Mr. Clark?"

"Mouse doesn't know her real mom or her real dad. She was adopted by Hartmann. Gawd. When she told me these stories I got..." Tiberius nodded and chuckled.

Austin frowned. "Mr. Clark, the mystery poison please?"

"I'm going to miss sex with her. Mouse was fantastic." Tiberius looked down with a sad brow to see the floor.

"Wasn't she a prostitute from Miami River?" Frank smirked to the bald spot on the skull of Tiberius.

Tiberius looked up with a sneer to see Frank. "Who told you that bullshit?"

"Never mind," Frank smirked.

"We were discussing Katt." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration.

"Katt didn't go to school. She pretended to work and screwed Hartmann for money for rent and stuff until she got pregnant. Then Katt stole his money, murdered him, and left town. The new sheriff covered it up. That's what Mouse said. That's how she knew about it and followed Katt to Miami." Tiberius said.

"How much money?" Frank asked.

"Shit. Millions. Mouse said three million dollars or so. He liked to count it out on his desk and stored it inside the steel safe in his office at the nursing home." Tiberius smiled.

"Money!?" Austin turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Frank.

Frank pursed his lips, staring at Tiberius. "I'll check into that, Austin."

Tiberius chuckled, shaking his skull. "What a shit ass? Who keeps three million on his desk for someone to steal?"

"Why did you kidnap Katt?" Austin turned and asked Tiberius.

"No kidnapping. She's worth 150 million dollars for being a murderous fugitive." Tiberius frowned, shaking his skull.

"Why didn't you call the hot line?" Austin asked.

"Let some other asshole take the money. Hell, I found her, first." Tiberius nodded, slapping his chest.

"Why didn't you bring her directly into the police station immediately after you found her?" Austin asked.

Tiberius wiggled his hands, shaking his skull. "Kill me with her hands, before I got the money. Not on your life, well, my life," chuckling.

"Lethal weapons!?" Frank said with puzzle brow.

"Her hands." Tiberius continued to wiggle his fingers with a smile and a nod.

"You keep making that statement, Mr. Clark." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration.

Tiberius continued to wiggle his fingers, saying with a nod and a frown. "She kills you with her hands. I didn't want to die. We were weighing our options..."

"...with Tom in tow," Frank growled with angry.

"He got in the way." Tiberius parted his lips at the angry brother on Tom Sawyer.

"Hell, man. He would have rewarded you all the money." Frank sneered with fury.

"I didn't know." Tiberius shrugged his shoulder, looking down to the floor.

"Bullshit..." Austin whispered for his eardrums only. Tiberius knew and lied through his stained yellow teeth.

Everyone on planet Earth plus some aliens living within the Milky Way Galaxy knew all about Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. He was an infamously rich married billionaire as his face shone on the television tubes, magazine racks, and trash tabloids, every week. Tiberius did not know Tom, who only lived ten miles north of Coral Beach.

Tiberius looked up with a grin and a nod. "I saved his life."

"You tried to fuckingly kill him." Frank stood, leaning to the iron bars with his two folded fists.

"Enough, pups!" Austin turned with a sour frown to see the jacket sleeve of Mangrove. "Sit down Frank," he turned with a stern face to see Tiberius. "Do you have any more data to share about Mouse or Katt for us, Mr. Clark?"

Tiberius turned and moved back towards the uncomfortable prison sleeping cot, flinging both arms into the air with a yell of angry. "I'm finished talking. Where's the food? I'm hungry," he spun around with a smirk and sat his ass down on top of the bedcovers, folding his biceps with a smug look.

The door sounded with two knocks. Frank spun around with a growl and moved ahead towards the closed and locked office door, instead of killing Clark with a set of bare hands for attempting to murder his two brothers. He stopped and leaned over to the door knob. The door opened. The face of the young delivery boy from Dee Dee's Hamburgers smiled and handed three sacks of good smelling food to Mangrove. Frank smiled with a nod and accepted the three sacks of food. "Thank you very much, young man!" He handed the young boy five hundred dollar bills in cash to cover both the food and the tip for the young teenager.

"Thank you very, very much, sir!" The pimpled face kid accepted and looked down at the wad of money, looking up with a smile while back stepping from the porch and hit the side door of the car. The jail office door closed.

Inside the jail office space, Frank spun around with a stern face and moved ahead towards the desk, stopping, placing the three food sacks on top of the table surface, examining the food sacks and separated out the beverages from the cookies.

He stood upright from the cot and dashed ahead towards the prions bar with a yell. "I'm hungry. Give me anything first!" Tiberius leaned a nose bridge through the iron bars while holding out both wiggling arms with a smile.

The door opened.

The white sand twirled in a set of dust balls coming inside the office space with Keystone, Ron, Ray, and a slender male moving ahead into the office. The male wore a yellow shirt, a red necktie, a pair of white trousers, a head of black hair and a clean shaven face with a smile, stopping at the table desk, where three food sacks stood on top of the flat surface. He looked down with a smile at the good smelling food.

"Tiberius Clark, you're the man of the hour." Keystone moved ahead with a smile and pointed at Tiberius with a nod, thumbing back over a collar bone with a nod. "This is Polly. He's the DA on this murder case and your new best friend."

"He was assigned to Katt for her defense." Austin stood upright from the chair and spun around with a sneer to see Keystone.

"Cat! What cat? Where is the cat inside my office space?" Keystone stopped in place and looked down with a puzzled brow to see the floor for the feline animal.

"That's her nickname." Tiberius held the prison bars with a laugh of humor.

Keystone looked up with a wink and a smile to see Austin, moving ahead towards Tiberius. "Nickname! We seem to be getting personal with the prisoner there, Berrington."

"Answer the damn question, Willie!" Frank growled at the ass of Keystone.

"Well, the answer is. Gimme a drum roll please! Tiberius Clark is the new state of Florida and DA's witness for the prosecution, since he's willing to tell all about the killer." Keystone stopped in front of the locked prison cell of Tiberius and pointed down to Katt with a smile. "Her! Mr. Tiberius cut a deal yesterday with me. I phoned the governor," he rattled the prison keys and unlocked the iron doors with a chuckle.

Austin crossed his arms, turning with a sour frown to see Tiberius. "Damn. I dropped my kidnapping charges against you. You conned me, sir."

"Tom did not." Frank moved away from the desk with the food sacks and stared with a nod at the face of Tiberius.

"Correct!" Austin said.

Tiberius exited out from the prison cell with a smirk. Keystone reached out and patted Tiberius on the back spine with a nod and a smile. "Forget it, gentlemen! The governor has wiped his ass clean. No kidnapping. No murder. No attempted murder. No blackmail. No harassment. No torture. No nothing. Hell. This guy couldn't get a jay walking ticket in the great state of Florida. He's a star, the shiny star of the prosecution. Mr. Clark's going to nail the coffin on her ass," Keystone turned and moved, thumbing behind his ass at Katt with a laugh.

"And what about my personal monetary compensation, sheriff?" Tiberius turned and smiled at the nose profile on Keystone.

"You're being flown to meet with the governor to discuss that very topic, right now, Mr. Clark."

Keystone moved ahead with Tiberius towards the closed door. "Mr. Clark, come this way, if you please!" Ron reached over and held the door open with a nod and a smile at Tiberius.

"See you in court, gentlemen!" Tiberius passed by Austin and Frank with a nod and a smirk.

"Grub..." Ray stood over the row of food with a smile while sniffing and lifting all three bags up from the table surface.

"Wait. We paid for the food." Frank raised his palms, swinging around and advancing to the food bags.

"Mighty kind, Berrington," Keystone moved to the door, saying with a nod and a smile.

Austin moved and grabbed two warm hamburgers from the nearest sack and a vanilla shake from the table, pivoting and running to the prison cell, seeing that Katt slept sound or totally ignored the clown show in the police office.

"What the hell are you doing, Berrington?" Keystone spun around with a sour frown, shoving passed the deputies to Austin.

Austin stopped and slipped the food items between the iron bars, tossing it successfully on top of the blankets. Katt could eat the food if she desired, since was not letting her starve.

Keystone grabbed Austin by the bicep as Austin body spun in the opposite direction and reversed his body flow, penning his bicep on the flabby throat muscles of an overweight Keystone against the iron bars, growling to Keystone's face.

Keystone gagged and coughed for fresh air, flinging his hand, and meekly squealed. "Get...out...my..."

Frank casually strolled to Austin, who was huffing and puffing with fury into Keystone's face, stopping and saying with a nod and a smile to the red face of Keystone. "Actually, we are required to stay as ordered by the state of Florida governor's office, since we are the special appointed criminal investigators of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell." He slipped out the legal document from his jacket pocket, lifting and displaying the paper with a smirk for Keystone's eyeballs.

Tom had given Frank the paper in case Austin and he needed proof of their right of ownership to their prisoner. The media sharks created both gossip and rumor plus the town's people wanted fame and fortune. Tom was afraid that someone might just steal Katt, before Sawyer could get her to a Miami court room for the murder trial.

Tom was always thinking in the wrong direction, sometimes.

Keystone eyeballed the paper, exhaling with a huff of fresh air.

Frank tapped Austin on the collar bone as Austin released his deadly gripe from Keystone's throat. Berrington back stepped away from the man, slowly calming his raw nerve endings.

Keystone rushed to door, wearing an imprint of Berrington's hand, coughing and yelling. "Hell. Stay then. And don't touch anything. No radio. No guns. No food. No nothing..."

Frank turned with a smirk and a nod to see the ass of Keystone. "We will follow your obtuse instructions, Willie."

"And no more food for the girl. If I find one more piece of trash on the floor, I'll take it out on her hind, not you."

Frank said a smile and a nod. "Be very careful with your words, sheriff. I am recording this session."

Keystone stopped and spun around, dropping his mouth, seeing that Frank tapped his jacket pocket with a smile. Keystone raised his arms, swinging to the door and shouted. "Hell, fire, and brimstones. I can't wait to get rid of you boys and the angel of death." He waved his hands, yelling. "Get moving Clark. You too guys. Get out of here. And him on a plane to Tallahassee."

"What about me?" Polly stood against the wall wearing a frown.

"You're going with Clark, Polly. You're his lawyer." Keystone grabbed Polly by the shirt collar, dragging him to the door.

Polly pointed to the ass of Tiberius in front of him. "Do I read him, his rights?"

"No dipstick. He's the good guy." Keystone thumbed behind his collar bone to Austin and Frank. "They're the bad guys."

Polly stopped and spun around with a smile to see Austin and Frank. "Do I read them, their rights?"

Keystone shoved Polly out the door. "No dipshit. Get moving to the police car. I'll drive ya."

The door closed.

Austin turned with a sneer to see the ass of Frank. "Damn it to hell. Tiberius Clark is working for the prosecution."

"We are the prosecution." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Austin.

"I know." Austin viewed the closed door.

Frank said with a nod and a sour frown. "We have to separate them. Tom's going to kill the man with his bare hands."

"I know." Austin smiled at Frank, thinking that idea was a quick quiet solution for the Quartet. "We wouldn't tell him until the murder trial starts."

Frank turned and paced around the room. "Clark's story line is outrageous, unbelievable, and mind-boggling. Mouse sounds like a vamp to me, kidnapping Tom and the girl for the money."

Austin sneered, following Frank with his eyeballs. "She's a viper vamping vampirette."

Frank stopped and spun with a chuckle and a grin to Austin. "Gawd. Say that three times really fast, Austin."

Austin sneered. "Are you trying to take Tom's place while he's being caressed and messaged by three young things?"

Frank smiled. "Jealous, I see. I can arrange three young things to massage you anywhere you want, Austin."

Austin slammed his fist on the desk table in angry. "Damn you, Frank. Pay attention."

Frank said in a calm tone. "I am. I do. I hear. I will repeat in plain English. The girl can kill with her bare hands. She killed all these people, including the Boyer Nursing Home residents. Shit. That's 9,067 people, Austin."

Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "Sounds like science fiction to me."

"Fiction or fact? We got his story in person and on tape." Frank lifted the mini tape recorder from his jacket pocket with a grin and a nod.

Austin said with a chuckle and a nod. "Shit. I thought it was your Ghost."

"Clark was thinking the exact same thoughts," Frank smiled. "Try to be positive, Austin. We found the girl. We have her in custody. We're flying her and us to Miami tomorrow. She'll be safe inside the new containment cell that Stu's personally constructed with his engineering mind. The murder trial will start, soonest. Ah! You're not smiling. This is about Thomas."

"What do you mean, Frank?" Austin frowned.

"You found him. You saved his life and not that Tom would even admit to that..."

"These assholes almost killed him right in front of my eyes." Austin said.

"You need to talk to Jace. He's the trained psychiatrist."

"I need the trial over."

"If you haven't figured out the fake cruise ticket..."

Austin looked up to see ceiling and Frank, exhaling with a huff of frustration. "Real genius. I called the telephone number. A girl answered asking to leave a message regarding the cruise. She would return the phone call with details and dates for the trip to Bahamas from the port of Miami on the cruise line. I noted that the woman's voice had a slight accent, not Spanish, western, eastern but southern. I got more curious. I called the real cruise ship and inquired about the special trip to Bahamas. When I quoted the date, docking number, and ship name to the clerk, I was told the data was fake and not real. It donned on me the advertisement for the new fitness drink was fake as well. The fake ship coupled with a true southern accent. I immediately thought of Katt. She planned this. She found us."

"Amazingly wrong." Frank chuckled, crossing his arms.

"The puzzle isn't solved. How does this Mouse fit into the picture with the crazy boyfriend? My ass's griped that we just don't know. Fuck, we need to find out more information, immediately. Damn it to hell." Austin exhaled with a huff of both worry and frustration.

"Where do we start, Austin? You heard Keystone. You saw the media. Her photos cover newspapers from Ruby Beach, Miami, the state of Florida, the entire USA and the world." Frank said with a sour frown.
Sunday June 20th

9:51 a.m.

City of Miami (131 miles west from Ruby Beach)

MIAMI AIRPORT

Private jet setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Stay on the plane." Austin sat inside his assigned seat as his brothers stood and stretched when the private jet jolted to stop.

"What for? I'm tired and hungry and pissed, Austin." Tom touched his sunburned face and not marching off the plane as he was following the orders of the boss of the Quartet.

"We're going to the Bahamas." Austin looked with a smile to each brother.

Four days ago, the Quartet worked day and night, seeking out the mysterious angel of death as they traced, tracked, and trapped Kattleen Kattrell in a fishing town on the west coast of Florida. Then the Quartet shipped her ass in a set of real iron chains to a secret US federal prison installation which was located deep within South Florida while waiting for her upcoming intense, hot, and dangerous murder trial in Miami, Florida.

Tom shouted with joy, raising his arms. "Really. Now. Great. Wait. My wife? Where's Jane?" He turned with a sour frown to the open hatchway.

Jane appeared on the top step with a smile, moving and advancing with her open arms to her husband, tenderly kissing between his busted lips. "Tom, sweetheart..."

He pulled back and smiled at his wife. "You're here. I love you Jane, sweetheart." And he hugged her again.

Jane pulled back and narrowed her eyelashes at Tom. "You don't look too bad. I plan to administer megatons of tender loving care while we're on vacation, sweetheart."

"Just what the doctor ordered, right, Frank?" Tom hugged Jane again.

"Right, Thomas." Frank hugged Misty Marie, missing her during their manhunt for the angel of death which was a successful business trip.

Stu hugged and kissed on Gracie, pulling back with a frown, asking. "Who called ya?"

Gracie turned with a smile and pointed to Austin. "The boss stole your cell phone and called told us to pack. We did. We're here ready for our big vacation," hugging Stu again.

"Austin!?" Stu turned with a puzzled brow to see Austin.

"Business is done." Austin sat in his assigned chair, saying with a smile and a nod to each brother and sister of the Quartet.

"Done. Forever." Tom released Jane and clapped with a grin.

"Done for a little while." Austin said.

"How long is done for a little while?" Stu frowned.

"Until Tuesday," Austin said.

"Two whole days," Frank smiled and hugged Misty Marie, pulling back, escorting her to the seat.

"Two days in paradise." Tom smiled.

Jane led Tom to his seat, helping buckle him with the safety belt, saying with a smile and a nods. "You deserve it. I love you, Tom." Jane kissed his lips.

"Thanks, sweetheart! I love you, Jane. I missed you so much." Tom sat, bouncing up and down with happiness in his chair as Jane sat in the chair next to him, securing her safety belt for takeoff of the air craft.

After his deadly kidnapping attempt, Jane did not care to leave his side. And Tom did not want to leave her side either, offering a blessing of a child for the both of them, as well as, a gift of his heart and soul for her eternity love, holding both her hand on the chair rest.

10:44 a.m.

Bahamas Islands (50 miles east from Florida USA)

Atlantic Ocean

Sea port setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The private jet landed in the Bahamas Islands as the Quartet slowly exited down the gangplank into the bright hot Bahamas sun.

Tom stood on top of the stairs on the jet, tossing his arms in the air with a smile. "I love the beach," he surveyed the airport, the pavement and the crew, who were working to unload all the suitcases.

Jane stomped down the steps with a smile, moving to the limousine.

Frank stood at the bottom of the stairs in the heat, shading his eyelids, sweating in the hot sun and looked up with a sour frown to see Tom. "No. You do not, Tom. You hate the beach, sand, sun, and hot weather..."

Tom rapidly stomped down the stairs, running into the sour face of Frank for fun, back stepping with a giggle and a grin. "Know that. But I love the beauty of the oceans, sands, huts and my wife," he grabbed and hugged Jane.

"And I love Tom, sunburn, and all." Jane smiled and tenderly kissed his bruised lip and burned face.

Tom and Jane moved into the limousine with the rest of the Quartet as the limo driver closed the door and drove to the Quartet yacht. The yacht would sail for the next leg of a journey to an exclusively private island parked on east side of the Bahamas Islands which was called Dog Isle.

Tom and Jane sat across from Frank and Misty Marie. Stu and Gracie lounged next Austin on the opposite bench.

Frank said with a sour frown to Austin, since Tom was blocked by their wives. "Have it your way, Tom. But stay out of the sun! I'm tired of playing doctor on your body, especially when you blistered your ass last time." Frank cuddled with Misty.

"Last time, what last time?" Tom said with a sour to Stu, since Tom could not see the sour puss face of mangrove.

"In May, when we made a short trip to Dog Isle, you and Stu played on the water bikes all morning in the Atlantic. You were acting just like a little kid forgetting the sun screen." Frank chuckled.

"Wore sunscreen," Tom chuckled.

Frank grinned. "Not on your ass when you and Stu..."

"Shut up, Frank." Tom shone in the tint of an orange color from embarrassment with his sunburn.

Gracie stared with a smile at Sawyer. "Tom, what did you and Stu do?"

"Skinny dipping on the jet skis." Frank chuckled.

Gracie laughed, slapping Stu in the chest. "Gawd, I'm sticking close to you, babe on this trip. What an embarrassment for all of us?"

"You have no idea, Gracie." Frank rolled his eyeballs and sniggered to Austin.

Tom laughed with his brothers and sisters.

1:11 p.m.

Dog Isle (secret location of the Quartet)

Atlantic Ocean

Sandy beach setting

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

The Quartet exited down the ramps, moving over the pavement and into the covered garage.

A few minutes later, a set of silver, gold, white, and black golf carts held four male drivers, who raced with each other to the four huts which were designed like a set of mini cottages. Each cottage with a wheat-colored straw thatch roof tile kept the heated sun off the interior and a small lawn of green grass implants on top of a dry sandy ground and colorful wild flowers in the window seals.

Tom won as the other brothers agreed to indulge Sawyer for getting beat up by his kidnappers.

Each golf kart rolled and stopped inside the covered garage and parked. And each Quartet couple and Austin entered the cottage to change their clothing for a fun day at the beach.

2:22 p.m.

Beach sandy shoreline

Stu smiled and wrapped an arm around Tom, whispering to his ear underneath the beverage hut and stood upright, looking to see Frank. Frank sat underneath the shaded veranda with other the wives and Austin. He yelled loud, so Frank would have to heard. "Let's do it again, Tom, to piss Frank off."

"Agreed! The lagoon, not the beach access point." Tom laughed, staring through his sunglasses at Frank, waving a hand to Frank, and not the hand holding his cold beer.

Stu waved a hand to Frank which was not holding his cold beer too.

"They're up to something, Austin." Frank stared through his sunglasses at his two deceptive brothers, sitting underneath the shaded veranda.

Stu and Tom turned and scooted to the open lagoon, back slapping and laughing.

Austin stared through his sunglasses at his two mischievous brothers who were splashing in the ocean water.

They turned and motioned to Frank for another physical and mental mind game, since was always up to playful daring antics, involving Stu. The pair liked to intimidate, irritate, and irk Frank which did not work, but they continued to try really hard.

Austin sipped the beer. "Maybe..."

Frank stood, stretching his limbs, chuckling for the new challenge to beat his silly brothers again.

3:03 p.m.

Beach hut setting

Underneath the shaded porch, Stu hummed and tapped on his laptop as Tom approached with a smile to the nose profile on Stu. "Hey, man."

"Thomas." He typed.

"This is va...cat...ion not work, Stu. What ya doing?" Tom tapped on the keyboard of Stu while holding his cold beer with other the hand, annoying Stu for another water game to ignite Frank's fighting fury.

"Educating myself." Stu typed.

"Shit. How many degrees do ya need? You get. What? One..." Tom mouth spat with laughter

"I have four."

"Whatever?" Tom sipped his beer. "We're rich living in paradise. Play time. Remember?" Tom read the weird sentences on the laptop, wanting to annoy Frank for a third round of violent playtime on the beach shore.

"I'm playing."

"What kind of games are ya playing?" Tom stared at the laptop screen as the lines appeared like grammar sentences and not geometrical figures of a battle field of military soldiers and weapons for killing and maiming the computer enemy soldiers.

"I'm researching topics for fun."

"What kind of topics?" Tom sipped the beer, leaning into the computer screen.

"Histories."

"What kind of histories?" Tom touched the screen.

"Ancient history?"

"What kind of ancient histories?" Tom kneecapped beside Stu's elbow, staring the screen.

"Pedigree history of ancestors which can be traced with my new genealogy program."

Tom yelled. "Damn. If you're searching my fucking family tree?" He recalled with embarrassment the time that Stu had found sensitive information about the Sawyer family of Germany.

"Don't sweat, bro. I'm not."

"Very well. But I'm warning ya, Stu. I brought my Ghost." Tom sipped the beer.

"And if you pull a weapon on me, bro then I'll beat you black and blue, complimenting them red poker dots on your fugly face. Chill out, Sawyer. I'm searching the country of Portugal, not Germany." Stu said.

"Portugal!? What's the mystery there?" Tom said with a puzzled brow, staring at the computer screen.

"Frank's ancestry."

"He's from the country of Spain. I do believe the four degreed Professor got the wrong country." Tom laughed and sipped his beer.

"You're incorrect as usual, baby bro. Frank's family migrated to Spain from Portugal and then his great grandfather moved to America."

"Did ya tell Frank about your current science project?" Tom stared at the screen, sipping his beer.

"No."

"Ya betta? Frank'll get mad when you dug up shit on his oak tree and then shoot your toes, like I really care what happens to your big fucking feet anyways." Tom laughed, sipping his beer.

Stu yelled into Tom's eardrum. "Franklin, get your ass over here."

"Gawd, man. Use the fucking mobile telephone. I'm deaf now." Tom wiggled his finger in his ringing eardrum from Stu's obnoxiously loud shout.

"You should wish that you were blind with that shitty suntan, bro."

"Fuck you, asshole." Tom sipped his beer.

Stu yelled into Tom's eardrum again for shitty fun. "Hey Frank..."

"Warned ya. Ya fucking shit ass. Asshole. Dumb shit. Asswipe..." Tom stood, swinging around, spilling his beer inside the floor of the beach hut and ran by Austin and Frank, who suntanned in the white sands.

Frank watched and yelled to Sawyer. "Wear your sunscreen, Thomas. What's up?"

"Stu's trashing your family tree, Frank. Ya better go and stop him before he leaks it to the international television station." Tom panted and chuckled, disappearing into his private cottage.

Frank stared through his sunglasses at Stu, who was typing on the laptop underneath the beach hut and exhaled with a huff of annoyance, shaking his skull. "Family tree? Fuck. That man's drumming up trouble again, Austin."

Austin smirked, seeing Stu through his sunglasses. "You should heed Tom's warning. Stu found some very interesting historical facts about the Sawyer lineage that should never be repeated in public."

"I recalled with extreme interest and surprising intrigue. My family tree's clean. But I don't want Stu making any asinine assumptions." Frank slowly stood and stretched, grabbing a new beer bottle from the side cooler, turning with a smile to see Austin. "Are you coming?"

Austin pulled the lever, resting back on the lounge chair, feeling the sun burn his face. "I want to relax here enjoying the view of the water." He stared at the waves elegantly crashing into the sandy shoreline.

"Do you need a pill?" Frank said with a stern face of worry.

Austin closed his eyelids, holding a beer bottle between his legs. "No medical doctor. I do not need a pill. Rest and relaxation. Run along and embarrass Stu."

Frank shook his skull, staring at Gage. "That's a tall order to fill."

"Tom then?" Austin grinned.

"Yeah, I can do that. He's easier to dupe especially since he looks like a clown with his funky sunburn." Frank chuckled.

Tom ran out the door, carrying his mobile telephone and his beer, running passed Frank and Austin for a second time.

Frank turned and ran after Tom with a yell. "Where's your sunscreen, Tom? And wear a fucking shirt? I don't want to spend the night babying your ass again," he enjoyed his role as a physician when he was not counting the money bags for Quartet Associates. Stu was in for a little competition today from the caring and compassionate doctor.

Austin stared at the loud commotion under the shaded grass veranda with Frank, Tom, and Stu. Frank would serve as referee for Austin for the next couple of days, ensuring Tom did not get whipped too badly by Stu, during one of their physical tumbling dog fight sessions. Frank would not let Tom get hurt again.

Since the kidnapping incident of last week, the Quartet had been both cautious and careful, regarding their precious family members, especially baby brother Tom.

If Gage was too aggressive with Tom, then Frank might just kick Stu's ass to New Zealand.

Austin snorted and sobered, eye gleaming the beautiful Atlantic waters and the bright sunshine which was blinding his eyeballs. Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration and not being able to purge the capture of Miss Kattrell out of his mind.

Cliffy and his immediately family were dead, buried and living in heaven along with the 8,063 bodies.

The 8,063 bodies were dead, again. They had been re-buried, again.

Thus, the manhunt for the angel of death had ended. The mystery investigation was closed.

Finally, the murderess case was finished except for the hanging death of Katt.

Two days ago

City of Ruby Beach in US State of Florida

Limestone cliff and sandy beach setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

A pretty and petite Miss Kattrell protected Austin on the limestone cliff in Ruby Beach when a yellow colored bitch named Mouse coupled with her evil boyfriend named Clark both wanted to harm him.

And they wanted to kill him.

Berrington had been in lots of difficult and impossible situations with his personal life in extreme danger, but his brothers had always been there to protect and help him.

Katt stopped Tiberius.

Austin was tied and helpless top of the limestone cliff as Katt kept Tiberius from beating Austin to death with the club or Mouse from pulling the trigger on his Ghost.

His Ghost would have filled his fleshy body with twenty razor sharp points of death and as, Austin would have bled to death in front of Frank's eyeballs and resting next to his dead brother Tom.

Tiberius had shown no mercy in dealing with Tom. Katt had chosen to protect both of them without reward or request as the Quartet hunted down her ass and chasing her tits from Miami to Ruby Beach.

Austin had never been obligated to anyone but his brothers, because Frank, Stu, and Tom were his protectors, his body guards, his non-blood family, his life-time friends, and his business associates. They had been born and huddled together in a single crib on a hot day in August into the one family, the Quartet, as decreed by their great-great-non-related biological grandfathers in the year 1838.

Present day and place

3:14 p.m.

Dog Isle beach and sand setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Austin felt deep appreciation to Katt as she was dubbed the angel of death, who was the murderess of 8,063 exhumed bodies minus his godson Clifford Milton Burton, III.

"Mouse girl..." Austin growled the police description, since her body had not been identified by the FBI agency.

Mouse girl really did murder Cliffy in his private hospital bed on the oncology ward at Charity Hospital and she freely admitted the nasty deed on the limestone cliff in Ruby Beach.

Austin believed every damn word of the yellow fucking bitch's statement, because Mouse girl had called Cliffy by his nickname. She could not have learned from it reading inside the local newspapers along with the vivid details of the hospital's room, where Cliffy spent the night.

However, Mouse was dead too. Stu killed her and not on purpose with an electrified taser sting.

"Damn it to hell..." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, wishing that Mouse-girl had lived, so he could wrap his two hands around her thin fragile yellow throat and strangle the bitch to death. Then he would send her dead soul into hell.

But Mouse-girl was there now. Justice did prevail then. And God Almighty was very good.

Austin had rid the world of one malicious villain and one nasty dream. He hadn't repeated the dream doll vision at 2:31 a.m. after finding Katt.

Katt. The nickname had fit her perfectly as she was cute and petite like a kitty cat. The dream doll wore the same baby blue clothes, the same tanned skin, and the same long black hair which invaded his mind during sleep time.

"Weird..." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration. Maybe, he needed to ask someone about his dreams and not Frank.

Frank would zap an arm with one of his nasty tap needles so fast that Austin would awaken inside the Charity psychiatric ward, wearing a pair of red colored restraints on both his wrists and his ankles.

Austin would talk with Jace, who was also a world renowned medical doctor that treated hundreds of patients every year for different diseases and illnesses, mental, and physical. Jace could judge Austin's mental mind processes or maybe offer some stress protocols from a stressful and intense manhunt.

But the end was not so near.

There was the court trial then the sentencing, and finally the death.

"Fuck..." Austin whispered, shaking his skull, looking up to see the sky and white clouds. He was done with everything now. He had revenged his godson's death now. and the yellow bitch was dead now.

"Back to my life of babes and business," he closed his eyelids, soaking up the heat, the wind, and the sand into his tired and aching body.

And then Austin fell asleep.

3:33 p.m.

Beach hut veranda setting

Frank and Tom surrounded Stu, protecting him from a sneaky surprise invasion of enemies.

Three faces and six eyeballs stared at the single laptop which balanced on Stu's kneecaps as they chuckled and chunked beer bottles like a set of real brothers on vacation.

Tom looked down with a smile to see his mobile telephone, confirming Stu's data for accuracy.

Stu always enjoyed to side with Frank on any type of verbal and visual debate and argument, since Tom liked to upstage or downstage the datum against Frank for shit and giggles. Stu pointed with a smile and a nod to the laptop. "The name of Portugal is derived from the Roman name Portus Cale..."

"Forget that shit," Tom waved his hand and pointed down to his mobile telephone, saying with a grin and a giggle. "Looky here. I found Frank's great, great, great, great, great grand pop..."

"Who's grand pop?" Stu turned with a frown to see the tiny screen on Tom's mobile telephone.

"That person is not my relative, Tom." Frank stood over Tom's hair roots, narrowing his eyelids in the sunglasses, sipping on his beer.

"Of course, it is. Looky here. Red hair, the spitting image of Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third." Tom laughed, jabbing a finger at the historical picture of the King of Portugal. "The king is uglier than an Africa hyena. Gawd. Ya should change your name to 'Franklin the Ugly', Mangrove," mouth spitting on Stu's shoulder from laughing so hard.

"The man did not have any heirs to the royal throne. I did not materialize from thin air, Tom." Frank frowned, turning to see the information on Stu's laptop.

"Are you sure, Frank? He looks just like ya. I see with my excellent vision. Bright red hair, a pointy snout, big fat lips, a pair of crooked teeth," Tom turned his mobile telephone upside, viewing the ugly picture of the king of Portugal, laughing and spilling his cold beer over his leg and the floor of the hut.

"I do believe that you need the service of an eye doctor for a pair of new viewing glasses, Tom." Frank frowned over Tom's hair roots.

"I ain't blind, Frank." Tom fingered the mobile telephone. "He's ugly like you, man," he giggled and spilled more of his beer.

"Let's find the true Ferdinand, the King of Portugal." Stu typed as the computer beeped. He pointed to the screen, saying with a nod and a smile. "Here's your great to the fifth power grandpop, Frank.

"Ferdinand, the first is a very handsome prince," Frank said with a chuckle and a smile to the computer screen.

"Bullshit, Stu. You made that up." Tom leaned down into Stu's laptop seeing a good looking royal heir, who sat in a golden throne, where the picture glowed inside an electronic world history file.

"All here, bro! The formal definition of the proper noun Franklin means 'gentleman' and that is our bro Frank." Stu said with a nod and a smile to the computer screen.

"Correct you are, my brother Stu, too." Frank smiled.

Tom pointed to his mobile telephone, giggling. "Ferdinand, the horse," he lifted and shoved the under Stu's nose. "See. Told ya'll. Frank really is a jackass," he laughed and enjoyed the good goofy time with his brothers as Frank's ears turned red with fury.

"Tom!" Stu said. Sawyer had been physically hurt, compliments of a dead Mouse and a live Tiberius, so Tom could not be punched or slapped with a fist as ordered by Austin, instead Tom could be abused verbally like he was dishing out to Frank.

Tom laughed. "Here's a better one. The moon of Uranus is called Ferdinand. Translation: out in outer space. That's Frank All right." Tom typed on his mobile telephone, accessing more nasty English definitions of the proper name Frank or Franklin.

Stu typed on the laptop, seeing the new picture referring the word Franklin, shaking his skull. "Naw. His demeanor is more like the World War II German self-propelled anti-tank gun named Ferdinand," he chuckled, sipping on his beer.

"Right." Frank said without reacting with a nasty disposition to Tom, since he did not want Stu to beat on Tom while keeping Tom's verbal and acidic puns to his person in a low key minor irritation without any physical recourse.

"Switch objects." Stu typed with a smile and a laugh.

"Objects?" Tom turned with a puzzled frown to see the nose profile on Stu.

"Look up the proper noun, Tom." Stu typed.

"Tom, Dick and Harry..." Frank said without the use of the computer.

"Right ye be, bro. Anybody at all or a member of the public at large." Stu read with a nod and a grin the proper translation on the screen.

"You are an anybody, Sawyer." Frank smiled down the hair roots on Tom, sipping his beer.

"Tomcat, fighter jet..." Sawyer read with a smile from his mobile telephone.

"Tom Collins, a drink." Stu read with a grin from his laptop.

"Is that why you drink so much, Thomas?" Frank chuckled.

"Shut up, Frank." Tom typed on his mobile telephone.

"Tomboy." Stu reads with a chuckle from his laptop.

"Tough and rough, that's me." Tom slapped his chest, saying with a nod and a giggle.

Frank slapped Stu on the collar bone. "We aren't discussing Austin. Are we?" he and Stu chuckled.

Tom frowned, searching on his mobile telephone. "Fuck you, Frank."

"Tom foolery..." Frank said with a smile.

Tom looked up with a sour frown to see Frank, parting his lips. "Don't Frank. Don't diss my wife, ever."

"Never ever, Tom. We would never insult Janey. We love her. She's our sister." Stu could not turn around to see Frank.

Frank dropped his mouth, shaking his skull. "Never ever, Tom. I'm sorry, Tom."

"Apology accepted." Tom turned with a smile and a nod, typing on his mobile telephone.

"What are some more definitions on Tom?" Frank stared at Stu's laptop.

"Here. Thomas means 'saint.' End of the fucking discussion." Tom raised both his hands with beer and his mobile telephone, spilling the beer on Stu and said with a frightened frown. "Uh..." He stood, back stepping from an angry Stu.

Stu chuckled, wiping off the beer from his naked shoulder. "Game over." He slapped the laptop shut, standing and swinging to Tom. "Let's go and drown Tom, Frank." He gently reached and grabbed the shoulders of Sawyer, moving them to the water with a smile and a laugh.

Frank turned with a chuckle and a grin, following behind Tom and Stu, ensuring that he and Tom drowned Gage instead.
Tuesday June 22nd

7:45 a.m.

Miami Dade Courthouse (nine miles north from Coral Beach)

Court room setting

Warm temperatures and partly sunny

The limousine parked near the sidewalk, dropping off four figures into a crowded city street at the downtown Miami courthouse. The group dressed like lawyers as Austin led the Quartet behind a throng of rowdy angry people, who were yelling and protesting at the murderer of 8,063 dead souls of Miami.

Austin moved to the side to a courthouse guard and nodded to the male, gliding through a second door which was known only to working court clerks.

And then the Quartet vanished from the heated pebbled walkway into the cold air conditioning building.

"Where are we fuckingly hiking?" Tom moved behind Austin, looking around the new space with a confused brow, walking second in line.

"Fuckingly is not a word, Tom." Stu chuckled and moved behind Frank as last in the line as usual for rear protection of the Quartet.

"Court room," Austin said, moving to the staircase.

Tom stopped, looking up to the ceiling, the walls, and down to the floor. "Never been this way."

Frank veered around Tom and Austin as the new leader, since Austin was elected babysitter for day.

Austin stopped and spun around with a sour frown, grabbing Tom by the arm, dragging Sawyer back in the line to the staircase.

"Learned something new today, Thomas." Stu smiled and stopped, standing as the last quartet in the line for rear protection of the Quartet.

Tom shook his bangs, moving behind Austin again with a sour frown. "Don't wanna learn something fuckingly new. The gawd damn old works perfectly fine for me." He smiled and nodded.

Austin said. "I wanna avoid the multiply checkpoints at the street entrance and court room doorway."

Stu chuckled. "Ya mean that ya don't wanna get searched by x-rays or the metal detectors or by hand..."

Frank stomped on the first step of the narrow staircase and stopped as the leader, pivoting to see Austin, parting his lips. "Austin, are you carrying your weapon?"

"Hell yeah and always..." Stu pulled up between Tom and Austin, standing in a row with his other brothers, looking up with a smile and a nod to see to Frank.

Frank left his Ghost at home with Misty, parking his two fists on his hips, looking down to Stu and Austin. "Shit. Both of you," looking to his baby brother. "Tom!?"

"I plead the fifth." Tom fist-bumped with Stu, saying with a chuckle and a nod to Frank.

Frank jabbed a finger at each of his brothers with a sour frown. "Am I the only smart brother of the band? I am not bailing you, asswipes out of jail. Does each one of you understand my meaning?"

"Don't worry, Mangrove. We're the fucking ass heroes of this story." Tom laughed and fist-bumped with Austin.

"Heroes go to jail and get killed in real life, Tom." Frank said with a sour frown and turned and moved up the staircase.

Austin followed behind Frank into a narrow and enclosed stairwell.

"We won't." Stu sniggered and hand slapped with Tom.

Tom moved behind Austin into the staircase too, saying with a nod and a grin. "Damn straight. I'll call Jane. My wife's got money and manners and good looks over sissy ass Frank."

"Where do the steps lead?" Stu stomped on the first step, moving behind Tom and last in the last, looking behind his ass to see if they were being followed and looked around the walls.

"Up." Tom giggled and wiggled side to side.

"A private balcony used in the old days for hiding witnesses." Austin said.

Frank stomped onto the level floor, moving to a single room door of an enclosed four walled lobby. "Actually, the Juliette balcony was built into the wall for the purpose of guarding defendants until the verdict could be read. In the year 1925, a man shot his adulterous wife, before she could testify to the jury."

"What happened historian Franklin, sir?" Stu stomped onto the level floor, following behind the rest of the brothers. Frank and Jace were both the official record keepers of the past, present, and future events for the Quartet.

Frank led to the single door, stopping and opening the door. "The guy was jailed, trialed, and convicted of murder for murdering her lover a judge, no less."

"No shit." Tom laughed.

"So the new judge built this secret place in case he got caught, too." Frank entered the room, moving to the long bench.

"Our wonderful ancestors of Miami..." Stu chuckled.

"Wild fucking times in the roaring twenties. Ya heard Grandpa's thrilling stories." Tom clapped, following behind Austin through the archway of the old tile.

"Loud and clear, I try not to act that way." Frank moved to the side of the wall, waiting for his brothers to enter also.

"The wilds of Florida are a legend. I think we should continue the tradition." Stu moved and stopped in the archway, seeing the long bench.

"We do." Tom moved and stood beside Austin along the wall.

"We do not." Frank stared at the room.

Tom smiled, looking around the room too. "Sneaking into a federally secured court house with illegal weapons..."

"Shut up, Tom." Stu looked behind his ass to see, if there were any wandering guards or visitors.

The tiny space revealed a compact room with three white colored enclosed walls as the air conditioning system blew cool air around the space from the wall unit. There was a single wooden padded bench which could hold six bodies. The platform floor on the second level clearly showed the downstairs court room gallery through a single exposed glass window. The visitors of the room could see the judge's bench, the jury box, the witness stand, the defendant's table, the prosecutor's table, and the single bench for the expert key eyewitnesses.

"Wow, great view, Frank." Stu moved and scooted to the far side armrest on a long bench, sitting his big ass with more room for watching the people below.

Tom moved and scooted not too close to Stu.

Frank moved and cuddled next to Sawyer.

Austin moved and sat, protecting the other armrest.

Frank looked down to the downstairs court room gallery. "Why are you not present there down on the gallery floor, Tom?"

"Bail hearing. It's not my turn but hers." He rudely propped his new leathers on top of the nicely polished balustrade, relaxing and enjoying the upcoming court room showcase drama downstairs.

Frank turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Sawyer. "Does she have a lawyer, Tom?"

"No." Tom straightened his new silk purple, yellow, and white horizontal stripped bowtie.

"No?" Austin viewed the court room.

"No?" Frank said to Tom's nose profile also.

"No." Stu sniggered, viewing the downstairs court room.

Tom laughed, wiping pretend dirt off his new tailor made dress shirt. "Damn. Is that an echo?"

"Doesn't she want one? Or is she defending herself?" Frank frowned to Tom's nose profile.

"No lawyer." Tom brushed the pretend lint from his new business jacket and fluffed his new silk purple, yellow, and white handkerchief which matched his new bowtie inside his outer breast jacket.

"She has the right to one now." Austin viewed the downstairs court room.

Tom said. "Don't get crabby, Austin. The last dust is that no one wants to defend her ass. They're afraid of siding with the devil and being punished and hung upside down by their toes in a banyan tree on Miracle Mile." He turned with a smile to see the nose profile on Austin. "Hey. Wouldn't ya going to do that very thing, Austin?" He chuckled at a kind act from Badass Berrington.

"Who would defend that monster?" Stu viewed the court room.

"She's not a monster." Frank leaned forward and turned with a sour frown to see Stu's nose profile.

"When a person kills 8,063 people, including children the person's a monster or worse." Stu said with a sour frown and viewed the court room.

"Or worse!?" Frank frowned to Stu's nose profile.

"She would be a spawn of the devil." Stu frowned and viewed the court room.

"Spawnette or devilette, female version." Tom sniggered, brushing his business trousers of the pretend lint.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

"Has she picked an attorney?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Nope." Tom pulled out his new leather wallet, recounting the bills in the denominations of hundreds.

"Doesn't she need to have a lawyer, Austin?" Frank turned with frown to see the nose profile on Berrington.

Tom stacked and stuffed the money into his wallet, saying with a giggle and a grin. "That's what the letters, 'P' for public piss ants and 'D' for defender dimwits, who are allowed to park at the free state of Florida office, are for to represent an asshole monster."

Stu lifted and presented a high five with his hand as Tom slapped it with a pop and they both chuckled.

"Stop that, pups!" Frank turned with a sour frown to see the rear hair roots on Tom.

"Did you inquire, Tom?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Hell yeah. I've asked." Tom wiped the dirt off his new leathers with the cute soft tassels.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, view the court room. "And?"

"None of the older experienced piss ants want to defend her shitty ass." Tom pulled out his mobile telephone from his suit jacket.

Frank reached and grabbed Tom's phone, shaking his skull, pocketing it into his jacket for safe keeping until the end of the bailing hearing. "Is there a reason?"

"Too hot!" Stu grinned, viewing the court room.

"Too risky!" Tom chuckled, viewing the court room.

"What kind of a reason is that?" Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

Tom raised his palms. "Looky here. She'll be assigned a junior lawyer from the large pool of..."

"Junior, not senior." Frank frowned to Tom's nose profile.

"Junior, not senior. Very good, Frank. Ya got excellent hearing." Tom chuckled and fist-bumped with Stu again.

"Junior! That means no working court experience in front of a live federal judge." Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance, viewing his hands.

Frank shook his skull, viewing Tom's nose profile. "I don't understand, Tom. There are numerous lawyers, who would want to make a name for themselves like in the previous infamous legal trials of OJ, Bundy, Manson, Oklahoma City, and..."

"And this would be one of the United States..." Stu smiled, viewing the court room.

"The world's..." Tom chuckled, viewing the court room.

"The world's biggest murder trial of two centuries." Stu grinned and fist-bumped with Tom.

"Stu, don't start gossip." Frank leaned forward with a frown, viewing Stu's nose profile.

"Also a single killer of a bunch of people." Tom said with a nod and a grin, viewing the court room.

"What?" Frank frowned to Tom's nose profile.

"Ya know and without accomplices like Bonnie and Clyde." Tom giggled, viewing the court room.

Stu chuckled, viewing the court room. "Good pair of reference criminals, Mr. Sawyer."

"What?" Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

"Not during war time, either." Stu nodded, viewing the court room.

"Hold it." Frank raised his palm, looking at Tom's nose profile.

"War time criminals are always guilty." Stu turned with a nod and a wink to Tom, holding up his hand.

"Excellent point, Dr. Gage." Tom slapped a high-five hand from Stu, chuckling.

"Enough, pups." Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance, viewing the court room.

"What's up your butthole, Austin?" Tom viewed the court room.

"What happened to innocent before guilt, Tom?" Austin viewed the court room.

"I'm not the defendant's fucking attorney. I'm a plain old goody citizen of Miami." Tom slapped his chest with a smile and a nod, viewing the court room.

"Coral Beach." Stu viewed the court room with a smile and a nod.

"Thanks for the correction, Dr. Gage. My point, I can judge her." Tom nodded, viewing the court room.

"Apparently, we all are judging her." Frank turned with a frown and a nod to see the nose profile on Austin.

"Then a tough defense is needed to combat the US public opinion, I would say." Austin turned with a nod to see Frank.

"Everyone's judging..." Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing the court room.

"...has judged, past tense of convicted, and sentenced her to death too." Austin viewed the court room.

"Not good enough..." Stu grinned, viewing the court room.

"Or swift enough for us." Tom laughed, elbowing Stu's bicep.

"What happened to defend the little people, Tom?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Don't know." Stu smiled, viewing the court room.

"Don't fucking care." Tom giggled and slapped the high-five hand of Stu with a pop.

"Stop that, Tom." Frank turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Austin. "What are you talking about Austin?"

"A good lawyer, no, a great lawyer for defending Kathleen Scarlett Kattrell." Austin viewed the court room.

"A great lawyer?" Frank frowned at Austin's nose profile.

"Tom, name some great lawyers?" Stu chuckled and elbowed Tom, viewing the court room.

"Me." Tom slapped his chest, chuckling with Stu, viewing the court room.

"Not you, asswipe." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

"Tom, name two great lawyers, excluding your selfish butthole." Stu turned with a grin to see Tom's nose profile.

Tom nodded, viewing the court room. "Thomas Jefferson."

"Agreed." Austin nodded, viewing the court room.

"Seth Hamilton." Tom viewed the court room.

"Who?" Frank parted his lips, viewing Tom's nose profile.

"No." Austin viewed the court room.

"Yes." Tom nodded, viewing the court room.

"No." Austin viewed the court room.

"Yes." Tom nodded, viewing the court room.

"Who?" Frank frowned to Tom's nose profile.

Tom slapped his chest, saying with a nod and a grin. "One of the greatest, besides me, fuckingly damn criminal minds in the US."

"You're not a great criminal lawyer, Tom." Frank frowned to Tom's nose profile.

Tom viewed his new wrist watch, pointing the glass, saying with a nod and a smile. "I will debate that fine point with you, Mangrove, MD on tomorrow at ten am, sharp," he chuckled with Stu.

"How did you know this fact, Austin?" Frank turned with a frown to see Austin's nose profile.

"The governor of Florida likes to drop names and brag about events in his Sunshine State." Austin viewed his hands.

"He's bad?" Stu smiled to Tom's nose profile.

Tom nodded, viewing the court room. "He's worse, the worse of the fucking worse. Talk about a gawd damn spawn of the devil. That man eats good angels, sweet children, and shitty monsters for fucking breakfast, if you indeed break the law and are judged by a jury of your peers and are convicted of a crime in his court room." He had remembered reading the article from the law trade journal about Seth Hamilton.

"Wow, I'm impressed. Can I meet this guy?" Stu smiled to Tom's nose profile.

"Children, Tom?" Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

"Child, children, kids. Got him a twelve-year-old convicted of a second degree murder a couple of months ago in his home state of South Carolina." Tom nodded, viewing the court room.

"Whoa!" Stu parted his lips turning to see the court room.

"Who's the monster now?" Frank turned with a sour frown to see Austin's nose profile.

"Him?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Her?" Tom smiled, viewing the court room.

"She's dead." Stu nodded, viewing the court room.

"She's not dead." Austin viewed the court room.

"She will be." Tom smirked, viewing the court room.

"She will not." Austin turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

Tom leaned forward, turning with a sour frown to see Austin's nose profile. "Do not start that same old fucking debate, Old Man."

Austin smiled and viewed the court room. "I don't plan too. I plan to end that fucking debate now, Tom."

Tom turned with a frown to the court room, shaking his bangs at Austin's stubbornness.

"What do you mean, Austin?" Frank frowned to Austin's nose profile.

"My original question, doesn't she need to be here? Where is she, Tom?" Austin viewed the court room.

"She canned." Tom grinned and viewed the court room.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank viewed the court room.

"Canned?" Austin viewed the court room.

"She's in lock down at the prison." Stu grinned, viewing the court room.

"Why, Stu?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Death threats." Stu grins, viewing the court room.

"How many?" Tom giggled, viewing his wrist watch.

"Last count, 16,629,745." Frank said, viewing the court room.

Tom turned with a puzzle brow to see Frank's nose profile. "Shit, Frank. You're exaggerating or the big accountant got the comma in the wrong place."

"I state my numbers correctly, Thomas." Frank smirked, viewing the court room.

"Holy crap. Seventeen million people want her dead." Tom whistled and turned to see Frank's nose profile, shaking his bangs.

"And counting..." Frank said, viewing the court room.

"The entire state of Florida holds..." Stu leaned forward and turned with a frown to see Mangrove's nose profile. "How many people, Frank?"

Frank said, viewing the court room. "19,201,200 as of January 15, this year with a predicted increase of 1.021 percent for the rest of the calendar year."

"Check it, Stu." Tom elbowed Stu, slapping his hand with a grin. He liked the challenge to prove Mangrove wrong anytime, so Tom can boast to the heavens.

"Give me a sec." Stu pulled out his laptop, balancing it on his kneecaps, typing. Gage enjoyed harassing Sawyer but also assisted Tom to give the good doctor some pain and suffering, every once in a while. Tom was always searching to prove Frank wrong and has not succeeded, yet. Stu sniggered.

Austin snorted.

Frank was chilling and viewing the court room.

Tom mouth drooled over Stu arm, watching the laptop process.

"That's one per person, excluding babies." Frank nodded, viewing the court room.

"Well, Stu?" Tom watched the laptop, saying with a nod and a smile.

"One more sec," he said as the laptop beeped with the math answer. "He's right." Stu said with a nod and a grin to the computer screen.

"Certainly." Frank smirked, viewing the court room.

"Show me?" Tom leaned over with a sour frown to see the laptop.

"See it. 19,201,200 on January 15 of this year." Stu pointed to the screen.

"Shit. I'll get you sooner or later, Mangrove?" Tom turned with a frown to see the court room with a victory one day over asshole Frank.

"Doubt it." Frank smirked, viewing the court room. "I am smarter than you, asshole. More neurons here. From birth. My parents." Frank touched his temple as Stu and Austin chuckled.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Frank's nose profile. "Ya calling my folks dumb, Mangrove?"

"Only the obnoxious embryo of your reproductive happily married male and female biological life forms." Frank smirked, viewing the court room.

Tom turned with a smile to see Stu's nose profile. "Did ya call in, man?"

"Forty-six times." Stu smiled, viewing the court room.

"I only called a fucking forty-three." Tom frowned to Stu's nose profile.

"You better be joking, Stu." Austin viewed the court room.

"Tom's lying. I'm not." Stu grinned, viewing the court room.

"Holy crap." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile. "You both are joking. Is that correct?"

"Don't answer Stu?" Tom elbowed with a giggle to Stu.

"Why not, Tom?" Stu turned with a frown to see Tom's nose profile.

"Fifth amendment, buddy. Our constitutional rights." Tom sniggered, viewing the court room.

"Warden does want to her to get shot. Is that the correct explanation, Stuart? Is that why she's missing, Stu?" Frank leaned forward and turned to see Stu's nose profile.

"He does not want his guards to get shot would be the more accurate reason, Frank." Stu grinned, viewing the court room.

"Bullshit." Frank turned with a frown to see the court room.

True shit, Frank." Stu nodded, viewing the court room.

"How did you find that out, Stu?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Warden told me, personally." Stu nodded, viewing the court room.

"Personally!? When were you at the prison?" Austin viewed the court room.

Stu nodded, viewing the court room. "Yesterday, I have the QA guards assigned to guard the guards, the grounds, the building, the warden..."

"...the girl?" Austin leaned over and turned with a sour frown to see Stu's nose profile.

"Who gives a shit about a murderer?" Stu frowned, viewing the court room.

"Actually, you would state more accurately. Who gives a shit about a murderess?" Tom giggled and wiggled in his spot.

"Quiet, Tom." Austin viewed the court room.

"Who gives a shit? This is a human being and not a piece of freeze dried meat." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom's nose profile.

"You're a good physician and have a kind heart, Frank. But let this go. She's not human. She's a monster. She's guilty. She's going to die." Stu nodded, viewing the court room.

Austin exhaled with a huff of worry, viewing the court room.

Frank turned with a sour frown to see the court room.

Tom re-plopped his new leathers onto the railing for the upcoming show.

"Please rise for the Honorable Sherman Cutter." The bailiff stood in the court gallery and announced via the speaker inside the balcony as the court galley stood.

The Quartet sat and watched.

The judge entered and moved from a side door, sitting at the bench, banging the gravel.

The court galley sat.

"Do you know Cutter, Tom?" Austin viewed the court room.

"Yeah." Tom said.

"Is he fair?" Austin said.

"Yeah." Tom said.

"Is he just?" Austin said.

"Yeah." Tom said.

"Is he partial?" Austin asked.

Tom raised his arms, viewing the court room. "What's with the fucking ass fifty questions, Austin? Yeah, he's a good judge."

"I'm interested in the facts, Tom." Austin smiled, viewing the court room.

"Now, ya know, buddy." Tom frowned and viewed the court room.

Cutter said via the speaker inside the balcony. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have reviewed with great care the murder case of the accused Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. The bail amount is set at 250 million dollars." He slapped the gravel, ending the bail hearing for the day.

"Hope, she's got saving bonds." Tom chuckled, viewing the court room.

"A little steep, don't you think, Tom?" Frank views Tom's nose profile.

Stu smiled, viewing the court room. "Not for a single cold-blooded serial killing mass murderess..."

"Hey, Stu! He got it right." Tom turned with a smile and fist-bumped with Stu.

Austin stood and moved to the single door, leaving the balcony and the building for the next Quartet business meeting.

The other brothers stood and followed Austin back down to the staircase for the next business appointment.

9:24 a.m.

Miami Dade County Coroner (15 miles south from the court house)

Conference room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The Quartet rode in the limousine into downtown Miami as the limousine stopped and parked at the city sidewalk.

Joe shoved out and opened the door for the men, since this was a very serious affair with an on-going murderess trial.

The Quartet slid and moved out the limousine and into the building, taking the elevator carriage to the fourth floor, entering the business office.

Austin, Tom, Frank, and Stu sat around a large conference table, listening to the numerous state licensed Florida medical psychiatrics for the explanation of the psychological profile of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell.

"Katt..." Psychiatry one nodded to each face.

"Cat!? Where's the kitty cat?" Psychiatry three viewed the floor.

"Asswipe." Tom chuckled, sitting next to Austin.

"Behave, Tom," Austin leaned and whispered into Tom's ear as he was the babysitter for the day.

"Katt is the shorten name of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, who is the murderess of 8,063 souls. She is described as a precise observant mindset of a strand of inhuman sightless feelings, and fully sensational normal rhythmic cycles of life. She is insensitive to others and enjoys embarrassing death not life." Psychiatry one nodded to each face.

"What the hell does all that mean?" Tom frowned.

"Quiet, Tom." Austin leaned over and whispered into Tom's ear.

Psychiatry two said with a sour frown to each face. "She has encircled around the fact that death is seen and is heard but has been hardly touched by an outsider like herself, her soul, her death of a person. The funeral grave represented a person. The death of each soul served as a reflective and appropriate response to her angry and need of vengeance against the girl named Mouse."

"Where's a mouse in here?" Psychiatry three viewed her shoes underneath the table.

"Dumb shit." Tom chuckled.

"No comment, Tom." Austin leaned over and whispered into Tom's ear.

"Mouse is the pseudo name of the yellow discolored female that was found on top of the tea table limestone cliff in the tiny fishing town of Ruby Beach. She died of an overdose of electric shock from a taser, where the FBI is investigating that captured matter. Mouse targeted her angry against the entire world of girls and boys as an ironic echo of her own future fate, death." Psychiatry one nodded to each face around the table surface.

"She's not dead!?" Psychiatry three frowned.

Tom grinned. "Not yet."

"Listen, Tom." Austin leaned over and whispered into Tom's ear.

"Katt is a renegade of life and served as an enforcer of death." Psychiatry one nodded to each face around the table surface.

"The angel of death." Tom said with a nod and a smile.

"An apt description, Mr. Sawyer." Psychiatry one nodded to Tom.

Psychiatry two said with a sour frown to each face around the table surface. "Katt is not part of any select social group, since her family, her friends, and her enemies are all dead. She is portrayed as a young naïve girl, who is unmarried and has been birthed as a baby, after her biological mother and her biological father had died of some kind of mysterious ailment. Katt has shifted her sweet personality overnight into an unsettled slippery, sharp, sneaky persona on the surface. She is a tormented and guilty child inside her mental mind that has composed an easy-going and smooth personality and that has transformed quickly into a ruthless and aggressive killer. Or flawed psycho? Or deliberate killer?"

"The latter gets my vote." Tom said with a chuckle and a nod.

"Hush, Tom." Austin leaned over and whispered into Tom's ear.

Psychiatry three said with a frown to each face. "Katt sees a deep-rooted irrational hatred of one person, who is Mouse, while not looking beyond her own flaws to see alternatives for her hatred, hostility or hope."

Austin said. "I believe that Katt has hope."

"Everyone has hope, Dr. Berrington." Ethan turned with a smile and a nod to see Austin.

Psychiatry one nodded to each face. "We all have hope for her to grow pass her madness, obsession, and then lead a full enriched life. However, I believe her to be hopeless. It is hard for me to see hope here when she has used a set of new tricks which had included unconventional non-human ways of dictating her personality flaws into death acts to each one of her 8,063 victims. Someone that looks out for himself and not for his family or friends is a coward. She is a coward and will die a coward. End of story. Let's hear the story of female named Mouse now..."

Psychiatry three said with a stern face to each face. "Mouse did possess the same killer instincts as Katt. As the actual criminal facts were shown, she attacked and threatened her victims with both fear and death. But she did not kill and only threatened. However, Mouse acted out her threats by directly kidnapping both Austin and Tom. I understand that they might be twins in either a biology or psychology medical term. That is to be determined by another party. Does anyone care to comment about the twin analogy?"

Psychiatry two said with a stern frown to each face. "Interesting. Mouse displayed the most common true criminal values, such as, the act of kidnapping with a crazed and malicious state of mind with intent of bodily harm, and the motive of revenge. But Mouse didn't have a weapon."

"Where is the weapon? Is one needed? Mr. Sawyer as the only lawyer in the room, what are the criminal elements of murder?" Psychiatry one turned with a smile and a nod to see Sawyer.

Tom frowned in silence, since his law time was not free, and his legal advice was not cheap. He was not tattle tailing about nothing, turning with a sour frown to the other lawyer in the room.

Austin shook his skull in silence communication to Tom also.

Psychiatry two said with a stern frown to each face. "Murder is an act and a state of mind which is an evil within itself, making the murder wrong by its very nature. And the very nature of the act murder, lacking any specific definition in law, is considered a crime. The act, the state of mine, the intent, and the motive point to one person..."

"Mouse," Psychiatry one nodded to each face.

"I don't know." Psychiatry three frowned to each face.

"Mouse," Psychiatry two said with a stern frown to each face.

Frank leaned forward and around Tom, whispering to Austin. "I am not a trained criminal psychiatrist for the state of Florida. But all the legal elements direct point to the girl named Mouse and not the current inmate at the Miami Springs Correctional Institute here."

Stu leaned over Tom, saying to both Austin and Frank. "You're right, Frank. Ya don't know."

And the Quartet stood and left the room for the next business appointment.

10:23 a.m.

Miami Dade County District Attorney (14 miles north from Coral Beach)

Conference room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Home's that way." His manicured finger pointed in the south geographical direction as the limousine of Austin drove down the highway in a northern direction as Tom said with a sour frown, sitting across from Austin and beside Stu.

"We're not going home, Tom." Austin viewed Tom.

"I'm tired. I want to go home." Tom frowned, crossing his arms.

"We're going to the DA's office." Austin said.

"What the hell for, Austin?" Tom frowned.

"Start the pre-trial stuff." Austin said.

"You don't need me. I'll show up the day of the trial. Just call me. I'll be there like the song." Tom sung and chuckled with Stu.

Frank sat next to Austin, wearing a sour frown, staring at Tom in silence.

Austin said. "You, most of all, need to know the ends and outs of this murderess case, Tom."

"She's guilty. She killed everyone, lots of everyone's. There ain't bodies found, yet. So more than lots of everyone's. Hang her, shit." Tom elbowed with a smile and a snort to Stu as Gage copied Tom's facial and body motions also.

"He's rambling." Frank frowned to Tom.

"Tom should go home under doctor's orders. Right, Frank?" Stu said with a nod and smile to Frank.

Tom wiggled side to side, elbowing with Stu for silly fun.

Austin commanded. "Tom can go home after his meeting."

"District attorney office." Joe said via the limo speaker and illegally parked the limousine at the main entrance of the building, a fifty-six floor skyscraper, the home of Miami-Dade County district attorney office on Brickell Avenue.

The four brothers scooted out and exited the limousine, moving underneath the veranda and entered the lobby. They quietly huddled and parked in front of the elevator.

Austin looked to each brother, saying with a stern face. "No comments, observations, questions, remarks or opinions."

"Agreed." Frank nodded.

"Why not, Austin?" Stu frowned.

"I have my reasons." Austin said.

"No." Tom shook his bangs, crossing his arms.

"What did you say, Tom?" Austin sneered.

Tom stomped his leathers into the elevator with his brothers, swinging around to face the closing elevator doors. "I say no. If I'm going to waste my time here, then I'll going to offer my legal point of view." He faced the elevator, standing next to Austin. Stu and Frank stood together behind Tom and Austin.

Austin turned with a sour frown and a sneer to see the nose profile on Tom. "We are not wasting time, Tom when there is a life is hanging by neck muscles on a hangman's noose."

"Let the bitch hang." Tom stared at the elevator doors.

"Not without a legal just cause and an impartial trial." Austin frowned.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Austin. "Something's wrong with him, Dr. Mangrove. Get your medical kit and stab the Old Man with your tiny tap needles. Berrington needs a dose of reality." He pondered Austin's legal intent and internal mental problems.

Frank shook his skull, watching and hearing the nasty interchanged between the brothers.

Austin looked with a sneer and a sour frown to each brother. "No comments or else?"

"Gawd. Now, he's threatening me." Tom parted his lips, shaking his bangs, facing the closed elevator doors.

"Threatening us..." Stu crossed his arms, staring with a sour frown at the rear skull of Austin.

Tom said. "We carry all the information, Austin."

Austin said. "We do at that and we accumulated on our time and at our expense."

Stu chuckled. "Ya don't wanna share the toys in the playpen. Huh?"

"Something like that," Austin turned with a sour frown to face the elevator.

"I need a better reason. Or I'm spilling my imported Colombian coffee beans." Tom said.

"Tom." Austin snapped with gusto.

Tom shook his bangs, raising both arms into the air, "Fine."

The elevator stopped and the door opened.

The Quartet quietly exited out the carriage.

Austin led down the hallway and through the business office and to the receptionist desk, whispering over the desk to the cute office receptionist. He back stepped and followed the directions of the receptionist, moving and turning down another hallway and entered an open door.

Austin advanced and shook the hand of district attorney Norman Prisetter, FBI agent Phil Magnum, Junior, and the three named lawyers, who were working on the Kattrell murder case also. Then each quartet copied Austin's movement.

All the parties sat at a conference table as the Quartet exhibited a set of silent observers of the information exchange with no verbal comments or visual hand signals to the district attorney lawyers, since Austin meant business.

Berrington would personally kick his leather toe into a brother's butthole to the outer space planet of Mars even gentle giant Big Man, if Stu grunted.

Norman sat the end of the table with the row of the Quartet on one side. Phil and the three unnamed lawyers sat and slapped their paper folders on the table wooden surface. Norman said with a smile and a nod to each face. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to begin our pretrial information with a set of new facts uncovered recently. The accursed Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell is known as Katt like a kitty cat. Her name matches her birth certificate and driver's license..."

"What about her twin? The dead girl colored yellow named Mouse." Lawyer one said to Norman.

Norman waved his hand with a frown. "Forget that yellow thing. The indictment charge is Crimes of Humanity. An international law which is not commonly used in the good ole US for one single act of persecution on any large scale atrocities against a body of people who is namely the exhumed graves and reburied 8,063 bodies. Tell the media this part of the storyline..."

He turned with a nod to see lawyer one as lawyer one nodded and wrote down the speech from Norman. Norman said. "They are waiting on our formal legal statement. So we do it after lunch," he chuckled and cleared his throat. "The accused, who is also nicknamed Katt and thus I will address as Katt, pulled seventy-seven thousand per year as a computer certificate with no formal college degree. She was a computer clerk and not an analyst or a programmer. Her motivation, which is our motive, is that Katt was murdering in cold blood patients for fun. Now, she has been discovered. Now, her fun has ended. Now, she has tons of money in her bank account, since she is single with no immediate or extended family members, but there is a child."

Norman turned with frown to see Phil. "Did we find the baby's birth records?" Phil shook his skull. Norman exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Have we called all the Florida hospitals?" Phil nodded as Norman asked. "Have we called all the Florida obstetricians?" Phil nodded as Norman said. "Based on the eye witness testimony..."

Lawyer three said with a nod and a grin to Norman. "The eye witness testimony comes from an individual named Mrs. Henrietta Hartmann. She currently lives in the small town of Boyer, Florida. She is the wife of Katt's former employer, a man named Matthew Adams Hartmann, VII. He died of a mysterious cause per the autopsy report and not cold blooded murder by Katt. The FBI official report states that the deceased did not present with a colored yellow liver like the other 8,063 ones here in Miami. But we will use Mrs. Hartmann's eye witness account stating that she saw Katt stand over her dead husband. However, the wife did not call the police to arrest Katt as the murderer which was ten years ago. At the time, the body was alive and fucking the girl."

Lawyer two said with a chuckle and a nod. "Well the man died happy. Didn't he? Katt's a pretty girl. I bet that she can fuck your eyeballs right out of the sockets...."

"Back to Mrs. Hartmann," Norman frowned.

Lawyer two said with a stern face to Norman. "She has agreed to be the State's character witness?"

Lawyer three said with a chuckle and a smile. "Jeezus. I wished that she was deaf..."

Norman turned with a sour frown to the lawyer three. "Do not start that same old debate with me. I agree that the woman's intolerable as a human being. Her language, her appearance, her manners. However, the word of testimony of Mrs. Hartmann is most important here and not her dress code. I believed that she could be labeled that vulgar term white trash which is an atypical country backwoods hick from Alabama..."

Lawyer one said. "She lives in Florida."

"Is there a difference up there?" Lawyer two chuckled.

Norman exhaled with a huff of annoyance, looking with a sour frown to each lawyer. "Be very careful here. The defense for Katt is going to watch and nitpick and record and attack our biases on this murder trial, since Katt's from the same small town in Alabama..."

"In Florida." Lawyer three said.

Norman slapped the paper folder, saying with a nod and a grin. "Back to the accused. Her bank records indicate that Katt has a net worth is three hundred thousand dollars. And she is going to need it, since half that wad will go as a retainer for a lawyer. When the money runs out, she can use one of the pissing ant dimwits at the Dade-Miami County public defender's office. Poor, kid! Who has the assignment of her lawyer? Do we know?"

"One of the nameless junior piss ants there. I haven't received a name yet. However, the piss ant's name does not matter to us. We will win hands down with a junior, representing her ass. A junior attorney will not be able to counter our lack of just cause." Lawyer two said with a nod and a smile to the other face around the table.

Norman nodded. "I am going to use probable cause along with the motive. And I quote to you and media this afternoon, Katt was killing for the love of both money and sex and unquote. She fucked her victims, before she killed them for fun. That was quoted in the eye witness testimony from the other State's witness, a fellow named Tiberius Clark, Junior from his personal depo...."

"Jeezus. Another colored horse of a different breed..." Lawyer three frowned.

Norman said with a chuckle and a nod to each face. "More like a poke-a-dotted zebra. He is a basket case, claiming that she kills with her hands, hence her angel of death inherited title. Mr. Clark is set as the last eyewitness on our last day of offense. So that will bring us to the real weapon of the 8,063 murders by the murderess Katt?"

"None," Phil shook his skull.

"Really, none?" Norman frowned to Phil.

"Really, no weapon," Phil nodded with a sour frown.

Norman frowned. "So it seems to me that this is a slight problem for us as the prosecution, prosecuting a murderer without a murder weapon."

"We have solved that little problem, working with the Charity medical staff. We and they are going to link Katt's precisely matched body fluids, needles, hypos, sprays, syringes, and other medical items that have been found at the hospital and connected to each exhumed graves." Lawyer two nodded with a grin.

"Impossible," Frank parted his lips in shock, forgetting about Austin's command order.

Norman turned with a smile and a nod to see Frank. "The impossible is our mission, Frank. How's that for a motto, guys and gals?" He looked around to each face with a nod. "Quote that to the media this afternoon too."

Lawyer one scribbled down the quote with a smile.

Austin leaned over and sneered into Frank's eardrum. "I was thinking the same adverb."

"Thanks, Austin." Frank whispered with relief, since Old Man was not going to land his healthy body in one of Charity's emergency rooms for the afternoon.

Norman exhaled with a huff of worry. "It seems to me that is a very poor collection of hard evidence there. It would be one in a zillion chance of matching an invisible germ or a green slimy section of mold or a piece of trashed gum wrapper to a single murder victim. However, the evidence doesn't matter for us. Katt is dead. A poor attorney, a poor strategy, a poor outcome..."

"Guilty." Tom raised his palms, saying with a smile and a nod, forgetting Austin's order too.

Berrington leaned over and sneered into Tom's face.

Tom bowed his chin, folding both his hands under his armpits, recalling the new rule of no talking or barking or peeing on the DA's old rug, turning with a sour frown to see Stu.

Big Man turned with a smile and a wink to see Tom.

Tom smiled, shifting his hands over his hair, because Stu would protect his butthole from asshole Austin, since Gage was both insulted and fumed with Old Man's verbal command too.

"Very good, I agree with your, Sawyer." Norman said with a nod and a smile. "We have finished the pretrial examination. Let us break for an early lunch. I'm starving." He stood along with the other occupants of the room.

The Quartet stood and left the room for the next business appointment.

10:46 a.m.

City of South Miami (three miles west of Coral Beach)

Physician office of Jace Justin Jackson, Junior, MD

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The Quartet sat around the conference table inside the physician office of Jace Justin Jackson, Junior, MD.

Jace was the private physician of the Quartet and the most trusted friend of the family, exhibiting a glossy color picture on the lunch table in his private office, pointing to the picture. "I have examined one of the hard coated yellow livers from four different victims inside the city morgue to gather a better understanding of this odd phenomenon. When I flipped it over and examined the underside, the liver consists of soft pliable tissue. I also discovered that the hepatic artery, the hepatic vein, and the portal vein, the nerve of the celiac ganglis and vagus and all were clogged with dried yellow bilirubin enzyme..."

"You're going to catch something and then give it to me. Didn't your mama teach you and not to play with germs?" Tom shook his bangs, sliding his chair closer to Austin and away from Jace, chewing the food.

Stu raised his three fingers. "We need intent, motive, and weapon."

"O yeah. Right. Forgot. The big three," Tom chewed and chuckled.

"The liver is an organ..." Jace said.

"Know that," Tom mouth spat food from his parted lips, laughing. "It plays a role in metabolism along with many functions inside the human body. The functions include glycogen storage, plasma protein synthesis, and detoxification. O yeah. It's the largest gland inside the body and lies below the diaphragm of the abdomen and produces bile which is an alkaline compound which aids in digestion and regulates the high-volume biochemical reactions, requiring specialized tissues." He had learned all that medical information from the Homestead laboratory reports, Jace's medical fact sheets, and Frank's annoying lectures every night at the dinner table at Frank's mansion.

Frank said with a nod and a smile to Sawyer. "Very good, Thomas, you should've become a doctor."

Tom stood, holding an overloaded plate of food, turning with chewing lips to see Austin. "Forget it. I like being a lawyer. Know enough. Can I go now, Austin?"

"Tom, you must listen, learn, and absorb all the medical data for this murderess trial." Austin looked down to see his food as Tom reseated, continuing to eat his plate of food.

Jace said with a stern face to each face. "The medical term comes from the Greek word, hepatic. The adult human liver weighs between 3.5 to 6.5 pounds, exhibiting a boomerang shape, pinkish brown..."

"I'm going to be sick." Tom mouth spat food across his plate and the clean tablecloth.

"Nothing makes ya sick, except when I see you eat." Stu gagged at Tom's food splatters, shifting away from Tom's nasty contents over the nice white tablecloth.

Jace lectured to each chewing pair of lips. "The liver is positioned on the right side of the upper abdomen below the diaphragm. It lies on the right of the stomach and gallbladder. The splenic vein joins the inferior..."

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, "Austin!?"

Austin said with a stern face to Jace. "I agree with Tom's whining. Please provide us with more layman explanations and save the medical babble for the court room with the medical experts."

Jace said. "The liver is among the few internal human organs capable of natural regeneration of lost tissue with as little as twenty-five percent of the original liver, regenerating into a whole liver, again. However, Katt's victims did not regenerate. Hundred percent of the liver was too contaminated, too fast, and too full of toxin, killing all 8,063 exhumed bodies, quickly including both little Cliffy and Bree's elderly grandmother."

Frank viewed the medical report. "Hmm. The medical lab report assumes that the liver coating is exposed or leaked bilirubin. Normally, the bilirubin enzyme is yellow when broken down from the heme catatbolism. When levels are elevated for certain diseases, it colors an outside bruise in yellow. And the feces are brown."

"Shit. You're talking about black, brown, or green shit. I can talk shit too." Tom chuckled and chewed his food.

"May I hit him, please?" Stu said with sneer to Austin as Austin shook his skull, chewing.

"Yeah, let's see if his bruises turn yellow or brown, first." Frank looked up with a chuckle to see Tom.

He chewed and swallowed. "Spoil sport, Frank." Tom lobed his pink tongue covered with white food particles at Frank as Stu chuckled. Austin stared.

"I try." Frank looked down to see the medical report.

Jace was used to the pups barking during their informal gatherings, exhaling with a huff of annoyance, saying with a stern face. "The bilirubin changes its conformation when exposed to light. A good example is the phototherapy of jaundiced babies when an illuminated version of bilirubin is more soluble than the un-illuminated version," both physicians laughed as Jace said with a nod to each face. "Don't ya get it? The liver lights up like a firecracker under the lights and then basically explodes. Poof." The two physicians laughed for a second time.

Tom mouth spat his food particles over his plate. "No smart ass doctors. I missed that data in my tenth grade biology class. What does this fucking tidbit of stupid shitty data mean? Nothing. She's guilty. Hang her. May I please leave now, Austin?" Tom stood and looked down at the hair roots on Austin as he pointed back to Tom's padded chair, chewing. Tom sat again and continued eating.

Jace said. "Were any of the dead patients, particularly the neonates, presented with any calendar days of jaundice in the sclera of their eyes or on their skin before death, Frank?"

Frank read the medical report. "Not presence. I checked the lab reports. Wait a minute, Jace. I believe this to be another angle of the bilirubin that the labs boys and girls didn't expose."

Jace nodded with a grin to Frank. "The light explosion!? Let me work up some theories for verbal discussion with you later, Frank. The main physiological role of bilirubin is cellular antioxidant. At the cell level, the organ can expose toxins on its own."

"Reasonable levels of bilirubin are beneficial for the body. Research evidence shows bilirubin can protect tissues against oxidation damage which are caused by free radicals and other reactive oxygen cells. Also, people with high normal or elevated bilirubin levels in their blood have a lower risk of cardiovascular diseases. So, maybe, the yellow coating was trying to protect the liver from the invading toxins secreted from germs or viruses within the host body." Frank nodded to Jace.

Jace smiled. "Good theory, Frank. I'll run more tests for a detailed cell structure of the liver. Large amounts of accumulated bilirubin in certain brain regions leads to kernicterus. First, it is only presented in neonates and second, that was tested by the Miami city lab boys. Check that off the list, Frank. Unconjugated hyperbilirubinaemia in neonates are present due to the lack of intestinal bacteria that breaks down and excretes into shit. Checked? None present."

Frank read the medical reports. "Red blood cells generate heme and amino acids which are water soluble, becoming bile. It travels out of the small intestine, large intestine..."

Jace said. "But if the liver is damaged or the biliary drainage is blocked, then it is excreted through the urine. Maybe, it wasn't excreted but reabsorbed for a second time. Since, the ducts were blocked, creating a yellow hard coating around the liver and not underneath the organ."

"Sit down and listen, Tom. The medical information's important in this murderess case." Austin turned with a sour frown to see Tom.

Tom stood and wandered near the doorway with boredom, sipping on his coffee, pointing to Jace and Frank, saying with a frown. "The Lab Coats are important for the murderess case. She's guilty. She's dead. End of fairy tale for me." He reached and grabbed a handful of buttered rolls, chewing and moving to sit at the conference table again.

"Her yellow coloring has been confirmed as an outcome of toxin poisoning by the Miami city lab boys and girls." Jace said.

"The proper medical term is toxin venom like a snake that goes hiss," Tom hissed and giggled a chewed the food with his open mouth.

"Tom, back to business." Austin cut up his food.

Stu said with a nod and smile to Jace. "Jace, Frank, I did my homework. We ready for my verbal report?" Jace turned with a grin and a nod to see Stu. Gage cleared his throat and read out loud from his laptop. "The venom of the scorpion is called Uroplectes lineatus and it is clinically important in the medical field of dermatology. One of the earliest occurrences of the scorpion or Scorpio in social culture was the Zodiac which was used by the Babylonian astronomers during the Chaldean period."

"Fascinating shit, Mr. non-spock." Tom sipped his coffee.

Stu read from his laptop. "The symbol of the scorpion is presented in North Africa, South Asia, and the Middle East. The scorpion is perceived both as an embodiment of evil, as well as, a protective force to combat evil..."

"In another context, the scorpion portrays human sexuality." Frank smiled, cutting his food.

"Where's the sex act located, Franklin?" Tom chewed and viewed Frank.

"I'll have to find the proper sex act later for you, Tom." Frank cut his food.

Tom tapped on the table cloth. "I wanna see that sexy article now, Frank. He's lying like always making shit up to piss me off."

Stu read from his laptop. "Within the folk medicine of South Asia, scorpions are used in antidotes for scorpion bites."

Tom shook his bangs, chewing and swallowing, saying with a sour frown. "How can you antidote yourself with the antidote? That shit doesn't make any sense, Stu. Another smart ass doctor, who's making shit up just too really piss me off," eating the food item.

Stu read from his laptop. "In ancient Egypt, the goddess Serket was shaped as a scorpion. She was one of several goddesses who protected the Pharaoh," he looked up with a grin and a nod to see the hair roots on Frank. "That's where the sexuality reference comes from, Frank."

"Hell no." Tom waved his hand, chewing and looking at the hair roots on Frank too.

"This is a medical miracle that Mouse girl could absorb poisons..." Jace read the medical reports, ignoring his lunch plate.

"Venom." Tom mouth spat his food and continued chewing with his mouth open for both boredom and annoyance of the stupid meeting.

Jace looked up with a nod to see the hair roots on Frank. "Based on the accumulated evidence of confirmed lab tests and my visual inspections of this mysterious toxins or poisons within Mouse's once living body, maybe Mouse girl's body touch could be passed along to others, hence killing alive and breathing patients at the hospital."

Tom shook his bangs, his hands, and the roll particles. "No. No. No. That's impossible both scientifically and fictionously..."

"Fictionously. That's not a proper vocabulary word, Tom." Stu chuckled to Tom.

"Yeah, it is. Look it up stupid asshole Professor Gage with four degrees." Tom frowned to Stu, sipping on his coffee.

"Quiet, pups." Austin looked up with a frown to see Jace.

Jace said. "Depending on the location and the damage surrounding the brain structure, either a compression or an infiltration will produce symptoms, involving cognitive and behavioral impairment, personality changes, hemiparesis, hypeshesia, aphasia, ataxia, visual field impairment, facial paralysis, double vision, tremor or worse a stoke or a permanent brain injury."

Frank nodded to Jace. "This is a very good point that displays the legal murder intent for Mouse girl, Jace. One of the big three factors for the murderess of 8,063 souls. I'll state before..."

"Don't bother repeating, Frank." Stu frowned to Frank and Jace. "Ya don't know. Jace, you're the head medical expert so keep searching for clinical clues that connect both Mouse girl and Katt girl."

Austin nodded. "I agree with Stu. You must verify your first set of findings of Mouse girl, Jace."

Jace nodded. "You don't need to remind me about proper research techniques. I find this quite amazing stuff."

Frank asked to Austin. "What about the DA's office?"

Austin frowned. "What about the DA's office, Frank?"

"Do we share our little discovery with them? They are the working prosecution." Frank nodded.

"Tom." Austin viewed Sawyer.

Sawyer stood and moved to the food table again, hunting for more a food item. "Over here. What!?" He spun around, moving back to the conference table, holding his coffee and a pastry, chewing.

"Do we share the new medical data with the DA?" Austin asked.

Tom chewed. "No."

Stu turned with a sour frown to see Tom. "No. But the...."

"No. This adventure is on our time, our money, and our results. Let the Miami city lab little boys and girls do their job for once and earn our government taxes." Tom chewed and nodded to Old Man. Austin returned the nod to Tom.

"I like that answer, Tom. You've changed." Frank said with a nod and a smile to Tom.

He chewed and swallowed. "You guys keep finding the 'right' evidence in the 'wrong' direction with the 'wrong' person. Why ya fuckingly dissecting Mouse girl, anyways?" Tom ate the food.

"Fuckingly? That's not a word, Tom." Stu chuckled and chewed his food too.

"Yeah, it is. Look it up, Gage." Tom chewed.

"Answers, real answers." Jace nodded to Tom.

"Truths, real truths." Austin nodded to Tom.

"Keep thinking, Tom." Frank nodded to Tom.

"More analysis is needed to find these real hidden answers for Katt Girl." Jace looked to each face with a stern brow.

"Why, Jace?" Austin frowned to Jace.

"I just explained my rational scientific purpose, Tom." Jace said to Tom.

Tom frowned and pointed to Austin. "I didn't ask the damn question. Austin did."

"Why, Jace?" Austin stared at Jace.

Jace exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Austin, you told me to solve the medical mysterious Mouse."

"Say that three times faster, Jace." Tom chuckled.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank frowned.

Jace said. "I need a standard to compare the twins. I need Miss Kattrell's hair, nail, skin, and blood samples, as well."

Stu smiled. "I'll be happy to arrange that meeting."

Jace parted the lips and viewed Gage, "Stuart!"

Stu smiled with a nod to Jace, "I gots connections too. Girls. Guys. Prisoners of war. As a matter of fact, the Angel of Death is my specialty." Frank and Austin grinned as Jace smiled.

Tom laughed. "Ya can't touch the babe, Jace. You die based on that loosely formed theoretical guess from some theoretical asshole," chewing.

"I'll use the best PPE equipment money can buy." Jace stood and smiled to Frank. "Do I get my new toy, Frank?"

"Getting a new car, Jace." Tom grinned to Jace. "What kind? Color? Make? Model? Fast. Faster."

Austin stood and nodded to Frank. "Set up the new lab, Frank."

"What new lab, Austin? Ain't that going to cost the Quartet, more money? Where is it?" Tom mouth spat his food particles over the carpet.

"That's a secret, Tom." Frank turned with a grin and a chuckle to see Tom, leading the Quartet from Jace's private physician office into the hallway, stopping in front the elevator doors, and pressed the button.

The door opened.

"Just follow the broken beakers and smoking buddy burners." Jace chuckled, entering the elevator first as Austin stood and faced the elevator next to Jace.

Tom moved and followed last in line, standing between Stu and Frank in the front of the elevators. "What's a buddy burner?"

The door closed.

"Wasn't he in nature-scouts?" Jace turned with a frown to see the nose profile on Tom.

The elevator stopped and the door opened.

They exited the building, moving to the limousine

Frank chuckled, getting off the elevator. "He failed. They kicked him out."

Tom stood inside the elevator carriage as his other brothers moved around him. He shouted, tossing his arms. "Did not. I was a nature-scout too. Hey, I got my hawk nature badge too like you, guys. Hey guys. I passed too. Remember!?" Tom yelled last in line, moving out the elevator, the building and to Austin's limousine.

And then the Quartet and Jace stopped on the sidewalk and stared.

12:53 p.m.

Outside walking sidewalk

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

"Second limo!?" Frank stopped and stared at Stu's limousine which was parked in front of Austin's on the same city street. A new team of QA guards shuffled out a van and slid one at a time into the rear bench seat of Stu's limousine.

The door closed on the second limousine.

"Rotating guards," Stu stood over the hair roots on Frank. "This is a top secret job, Austin. Lots of media. We have to make a good impression."

Tom nodded, standing beside Stu, staring at the second limousine.

"In a limo?" Austin frowned and viewed the second limousine.

"First impressions count the most for the infamous Quartet." Tom chuckled.

"In a limo?" Austin stood between Frank and Jace, staring at the second limousine and moved inside his personal limousine over the bench seat.

Frank moved next.

Jace moved and slid into the open door of the first limousine, sitting between Frank and Austin.

A mounted television was powered on and said, "...bearing a grudge over her treatment of working conditions at the hospital. Kattrell entered my department and quit before I could explain how I'd amend the working situation. Then I find out that Kattrell committed all these horrible murders, including that poor innocent little boy, and the nice reporter for the Miami Newspaper. I would've turned her into the police, not fired her ass," a male exhaled with a huff of frustration into the new reporter's microphone. "She blamed everyone for her troubles me, the analysts, the programmers. She conned me into thinking she was scared and frightened. I signed her time card and sent her packing. She collected over 180 thousand dollars while she worked for me, including her overtime and her pension plan, that day. She left my office to hide on the west coast of Florida for her Crimes of Humanity against 8,063 souls," he nodded and smile into the tiny television camera lens.

The television reporter turned with a smile and a nod to see the tiny television camera lens too, standing beside the male. "Thank you, Mr. Elliot Asquith. He is the IT director for the Charity Healthcare System and a former supervisor of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. He has provided acutely and accurately the evil observations of the angel of death. Our next guest is Maxine..."

"Kill it." Austin looked at the open panel between the rear and front seats as Frank slapped the remote control button off.

The television turned black.

"Pun, Austin?" Tom chuckled, sitting across from Austin, Frank and Jace.

"Irritation, Tom." Austin sneered.

"I wanna kill it too." Stu sniggered with Tom.

"You'll get your chance, Stu." Tom chuckled with Stu.

"Pull the plug." Stu winked to Tom.

"Ya mean push the switch." Tom chuckled.

"Plug, switch in the electric chair..." Stu chuckled with Tom.

"...or table," Tom nodded and chuckled.

"The chair or table in Tallahassee? I signed us up for the main event." Stu fist-bumped and grinned with Tom. "I've placed our names like it was a problem on the list to the governor for the reservation. The place gets crowded quickly. Ya gotta be swift." Stu chuckled with Tom. Frank frowned. Austin stared at Stu. Stu nodded and grinned to Jace. "Jace, ya wanna to come along too? I'll tell the Gov, too."

Jace growled to Stu. "I absolutely positively do not want to be privy to any barbaric lynch mob bombarding the steps of our capital in Florida, regarding life or death inhuman matters of an innocent..."

"A no will suffice, Jace. Don't get jealous. There're plenty of platitudes to go around." Stu flipped open his laptop, looking down to his business emails as the rest of Quartet mumbled in soft chats to each other.

The limo hit the interstate, pacing the speed limit, slowing and finally stopped at mile marker 124.

Austin turned with a frown to see out the bullet-proof window, recognizing the familiar strawberry patch fields which were before the exit of the secret hidden prison facility, holding their prisoner for the murderess trial of two centuries and leaned forward and tapped on the limo speaker. "Problem, Joe!?"

"Traffic jam, Austin." Joe said via the limo speaker.

"Go around." Austin ordered.

"Yes sir." Joe said into the limo speaker and enjoyed his job when Austin wanted to illegally break all the Florida traffic laws. Joe never was caught as long as Austin was in the limo. Joe smiled and exited the limo off in the sand and weedy shoulder of Interstate 95, driving down the exit ramp while tossing trash, sand, pebbles, and other shit onto the other window shields of the stalled cars, trucks, vans, and utility vehicles. He eased to a full stop and said into the limo speaker. "Highway 83 is blocked with vehicles impossible to pass, Austin."

"What's going on here?" Frank turned with a sour frown to see rows of parked cars and lines of numerous people walking on the interstate roadside, leading down to a quiet side street of Miami Shores.

"I wouldn't know for certain." Stu looked up with a wink and a grin to see Tom. Tom nodded with a giggle and a grin back to Stu. Gage turned with a chuckle to see Austin. "O. I guess that I forgot to mention that the warden of the prison wants to make money to cover all the extra guards, food, weapons, and security equipment around the prison..."

"Make money!?" Frank frowned to Stu. "How does a prison make money, Stu? The Federal US Government has collected all the US taxpayers' hard working monies to foot the bill for all prison facilities, personnel, and supplies. The prison institution is a non-profit entity within any business atmosphere..."

"For profit, now," Tom giggled, bowing a chin with a grin with the dark secret.

"Warden, he came up with a great idea." Stu nodded with a smile to Austin. "A center stage grand exhibition of Katt girl." Austin snarled as Stu nodded. "Hand over a twenty. Children are free, of course, and then ya can see the bitch for three seconds inside her cage behind the containment cell that I constructed. Great idea. Warden made close to fifty thousand dollars, since Friday. This was a stroke of genius for the warden as she is being display like a damn lion..."

"Lioness, female version," Tom roared with a chuckle and fist-bumped with Stu.

Austin punched the button on the limo speaker, growling. "Joe, run over every bitch and bastard standing in my way. Get me to the prison overhang, now."

"Yes sir." Joe said via the limo speaker as the limo accelerated down the paved shoulder to the prison.

Stu grinned. "She's displayed from six in the morn to nine at night for a look see of three seconds for twenty bucks."

"Who do I pay?" Tom giggled.

"We don't pay." Austin growled.

Tom jabbed a finger and a nod to Austin. "Damn straight, Austin. We're the heroes in this fucking fairy tale storybook hour," he fist-bumped with Stu again.

Stu grinned. "Warden figured for each showing of three seconds. He attracts twenty people a minute, 1,200 folks an hour. In sixteen hours, the prison can easily tour about 19,000 residents from the Sunshine State along with all those folks coming down north of Tallahassee." Austin snarled as Stu shook his finger at Berrington. "Be careful there, Old Man. Warden doesn't want a partner..."

"Or splitting the cookie dough..." Tom chuckled.

1:13 p.m.

City of Miami Shores (twenty miles north of Coral Beach)

USA Correctional Institute of Women

Hot temperatures, windy with sunshine

The limo paced and slowed.

All eyeballs see an assortment of campers, trucks, cars, motorcycles, tents, barbecues, chairs, benches, umbrellas, and bicycles that was lounging underneath the hot Florida sun, tailgating for some outside event. The people moved to the secret Miami Dade Correctional Prison.

Joe blasted the car horn, scattering the sightseers, parking illegally underneath the overhang of the prison entrance doors.

The second limousine with the second team of QA guards was stuck in traffic on the interstate, since Austin did not communicate with the personal driver of Stu's limousine.

Austin was pissed off and leaped out the limo door, which was followed by Jace and Frank. Austin raced to the prison entrance doors.

Stu and Tom slowly slid out from the limousine, waving and smiling to the large crowd of people as they posed for pictures with the media reporters and offered handshakes to the citizens of Florida.

Austin shoved both the microphone and the nosy reporter to the side, moving to the open doors of the prison as media reporter turned with a sour frown and a yell to see the ass of Austin. "Hey..."

Jace moved and halted beside the woman, who was holding the hand of a young child, looking down with a frown to the child and up to see the face of the female. "Ma'am, you should not bring your youngster to a prison."

The woman patted the child's skull with a smile and a nod to Jace. "He wants to see angel death-girl. The TV station invited all of us here to pay and see..."

Jace shook his skull. "Ma'am, I can assure you the angel of death is not here. Please take me advice and carry your young child home for more educational shows," he back stepped from both the woman and child, looking around to see numerous the reporters, the television vans, and the camera crews that stomped over and killed the manicured lawn of the prison. He exhaled with a huff of annoyance, seeing that Austin was almost at the open doors, moving and yelling, "Austin!?"

The prison guard dropped his arm across the open archway in front of Austin, saying with a sneer. "Twenty." Then the employed prison guard blinked his eyelids to the male, smiling with a nod. "Mr. Berrington, sir. Sorry. Please enter free of charge, of course."

Austin heard the words behind his ass.

"Cut." Nameless face one yelled.

"Hey..." Nameless face two screamed with a pair of waving hands.

"Back of the line, buddy." Nameless face three hollered behind the ass of Austin.

The first young pretty girl shouted, waving her arms. "Austin Berrington. That's Austin. Over here, Austin. Look at me..."

A second young girl screamed, bouncing up and down, waving her arms too. "Austin Berrington is the most manly man that I've ever known."

A third young girl hollered, waving both arms and hands. "Hey Austin. You're the sexist thing ever. Your intelligence, cute and witty..."

A fourth young girl yelled, slapping her breasts, nodding. "Marry me, Austin..."

The prison guard raises both his arms, saying with a nod and a grin to the crowd. "This is Austin Berrington, who captured the angel of death. He's admitted free. He's a hero to the great state of Florida."

Austin grunted from those words which were both so true, and so wrong, as he heard numerous claps and cheers behind his ass. He nodded to the prison guard. "Thank you." He remembered the teaching of his mother for guidance of a proper South Florida gentleman behavior. Austin slowly moved beside a single line of teens, small children, young adults, middle age, and older adults, who all carried one or more devises, such as, a camcorder, a mobile telephone, a cassette recorder, and a digital camera for recording the historical capture of the angel of death.

"Damn it to hell." Austin whispered, pushing through the crowded corridor and into the lobby of the prison.

A gang of prison guards along the side wall sold food, drinks, popcorn, balloons, and shirts with a nod and a smile, extending an empty palm for money.

The other side wall showed a line of visitors as the next scheduled visitor leaned on the velvet rope as Austin moved near the rope and ran nose first into a glass booth.

Each visitor entered one at a time through an x-ray machine, in case one particular upset and displeased visitor had an evil plot of murder against Kattleen involving one or two firearms. Some of Miami natives were not too keen on letting Miss Kattrell live for another minute, an hour or one more day, much less impatiently waiting for the murderess trial of her peers for the Crime of Humanities of 8,063 souls.

The plastic gate touched the kneecaps of Austin as a prison guard sneered in fury, extending both his hands. "Whoa there, mister. There's a line here. Go back. Wait your turn..."

Jace slammed into the ass of Austin as Berrington blocked Jace from killing the prison guard.

Jace growled over the collar bone of Austin to the asshole prison guard. "Forget this crap, Austin. I demand to see the girl now, asshole."

Frank moved behind, reaching and grabbing the arm of Jace before he killed someone.

The angry prison guard touched his pistol as Austin pulled out his Florida driver's license from his wallet, presenting promptly the proper identification to the prison guard.

The prison guard accepted and stared at the driver's license and Austin. "So ya Berrington, ya Mangrove. Where's the other part of your Quartet? Is Stu with ya?"

Stu and Tom slowly strolled down the crowded corridor to Austin while chatting, laughing, hand shaking and back slapping with the QA guards the prison guards, acting like a real life celebrity billionaires and held boxes of popcorn and T-shirts.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a calm timber to the prison guard. "Stu, this gentleman needs an introduction."

Stu stopped and stared behind the ass of Frank, ordering with a sour frown to the Prison Guard, ordering. "What? Hell, man. Let him inside the gate."

The prison guard saw and nodded to Stu. "Yes sir."

The gate lifted.

Austin and Jace raced down an empty hallway with Jace in the lead.

Austin sprinted next to Jace, saying with a frown. "You know where to go?"

"I worked with Stu on the containment cell. I helped with the construction phase while you guys were vacationing on the west coast in the sand and sun." Jace panted from his overweigh of the short run.

"I wasn't vacationing." Austin growled.

They followed beside a single line of yelling visitors, who stood against the wall. Each visitor waited for their three seconds turn, holding up a twenty-dollar bill.

Jace halted at the first door, seeing that the door had been jarred open with a hammer, growling.

This was the first measure of medical containment of Katt's contagious germs. This particular door displayed an electronic box which was only accessed by a set of secret numbers and then the person entered the containment space for any communication with Katt.

So far, the only persons communicating with Katt included Jace, the warden, and her three rotating prison guards.

Jace moved through the first opened door, standing in front of a second door.

The second door had been completely removed and exposed a three-sided room of walls. The other wall was decorated with a two-way reflective window which was activated by an interior computer console for viewing a trapped Kattrell inside her oxygen-enriched negative air pressure flow.

Katt lived inside her personal private prison cell with a single cot for both sitting and slumbering.

"Lights, camera, action..." The paid visitor screamed and banged with his fists on the bullet-proof glass. "Turn on the damn lights. I can't see a fucking thing. I want to see angel girl," sneering.

Jace shoved the visitor to the side wall and away from the reflective mirror which was a window. "Stop that banging, sir." He could see that the containment cell overhead lights were off which made her prison cell very dark.

The standing prison guard stomped and holstered up his weapon as Austin moved and whispered with his sour breathed into the face of the guard. The guard stored his weapon and stepped back against wall like before.

Jace narrowed his eyelids into darkness, ordering. "Turn the lights on, guard."

"Automatic. The overhead lights flick on every five seconds for a peek-a-view then punch off by computer," the guard said with a smirk and chuckle.

Then the enclosed containment cell illuminated in a whitish-yellow light and shone down on a small gray covered curvy lump. The covered lump was cuddled against a gray wall on top of a set of naked gray bed sheets and not moving.

Austin and Jace turned with a frown to see the sight for three seconds and then darkness invaded their eyelids again.

"Hey. I'm paid for my turn to see that bitch," the visitor growled, moving closer to the window.

"Stand over there, sir." Austin turned and stole the wallet on Jace from Jace's business suit jacket, pulling out a one-hundred-dollar bill and handed to the visitor for his trouble as the visitor accepted the money with a smile. Austin turned and nodded to a second prison guard, who moved and tugged on the visitor and escorted him from the room and out into the crowded hallway.

"Lights on now, guard," Jace did not give a damn about the stolen money and only the girl, growling to the first guard as Stu, Frank, and Tom moved and stood inside the tiny room, wearing shocking face.

"Stu," Austin viewed the darkness of the containment cell.

Stu moved to the guard and pointed to the mirror which represented her cell, saying with a sneer. "Get the gawd damn lights on now, Yardley." Yardley blinked without moving. Stu sneered with his sour breath into the face of the guard. "Now, Yardley..."

Then the overhead lights illuminated and shone down on top of a gray lump as Austin reared his fist for a smack.

Jace caught the bicep on Austin, shaking his skull, observing Katt inside the cell. "Don't bother, Austin, both sound and air proof. How do you signal to Miss Kattrell, guard?"

The guard chuckled. "Turn the red light on for fun. Red means food in the bend box like this," he reached and flipped the switch light on as a red light brightened in the dark cell. The guard chuckled, shaking his skull to the nose profile on Austin and Jace. "She won't get the food out from bend, thou. Since she doesn't eat anymore. That started the other day. She gets her three squares per day at eight, noon, and six."

Jace looked down with a sour frown to see his wrist watch. "The time is passed noon." He looked up to see the gray lump on top of the bed inside her cell. "Did Miss Kattrell eat her lunch, today?"

"No, she quit eating on Sunday. I told ya that a few second ago. She's starving to death before her trial to avoid her death inside the gas chamber." The guard laughed.

The gray lump shifted sideways, kicking out a pair of dark tinted suntanned legs from a gray blanket. The lump dropped the blanket over the bed mattress, revealing her dark tinted suntanned skin. The lump wore a gray sleeveless prison blouse and a pair of matching prison shorts. Katt turned her knotted hair to see the spying reflective mirror as if she knew that someone was there. Her face was painted in reddish-golden tinted sun burn, showing a pair of two black eye circles, and a set of bright red chapped lips. She blinked her eyelashes open and shut, bowing a chin, sliding back underneath the blanket and disappeared.

"Good gawd, she's weak." Jace turned with a sour frown to see the guard. "You are a son of a fucking bitch, sir. Your feed her sustenance only three times a day. I demand that you get the damn warden down here and escort me to the kitchen now, guard." The guard stared and snarled at Jace for the nasty treatment.

"Now, Yardley, get moving and guide all of us to the kitchen." Stu moved and shoved the guard to the archway and out the doors of the containment cell, following behind.

Jace moved and trailed behind Stu then Austin, and Frank and Tom, leaving the containment cell.

1:44 p.m.

Kitchen setting

The guard led them down an empty hallway and around the corner to a set of double doors. You could smell lunch being cooked, baked, boiled, and grilled over the fire pits and heated ovens. The guard slapped one side of the door open and side stepped near the wall of cabinets as the Quartet stood in front of the entrance way, staring at the appliances and the steam of cooking food.

Jace stood in front of the Quartet huffing and puffing with angry.

The male was plump built, a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of sweaty pink tinted cheeks, and a clean shaven face with a clean chef's hat, and a food stained apron, exhaling with a huff of annoyance, staring at Jace. "Who are these people, Yardley? I am Chef Louie."

"I want to eat Miss Kattrell's lunch meal." Jace stomped forward with a nod and a frown to Louie.

Louie smirked, slowly pivoting and moving down a row of the cold refrigerators and away from the hot steaming cooking pots and pans on the fiery stoves, and reached and grabbed an object.

He slowly returned and stopped in front of Jace, lifting a tiny plastic pink colored kiddie plate that was decorated with a tiny brownish-black object in the middle, extending the plate with a grin to Jace. "Bon appetite, sir..."

Austin growled as Frank sneered. Stu flexed both his two fists and his biceps. Tom yelped at a tiny slice of bread for Katt's lunch meal, today and probably the other yesterdays.

Jace pointed to the bread on top of the plate, saying with a sour frown and a sneer. "Correct me here, sir? This is the lunch for Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, who is being held in the containment cell built and paid for by the Quartet," staring down at tiny sliver of bread. The slice was burnt black on the bottom and dark brown on the top as he grabbed and squeezed between his fingers. The fossilized bread did not bend, break, bulk or bulge. Jace exhaled with a huff of angry, growling at the bread. "Hard as a rock, a stray dog can't chew this damn shit."

"Oui," Louie smiled. "Bread and water like instructed. Her breakfast at eight, her lunch at noon and her dinner at six, since June twenty on Sunday when she was transported, secured, and locked inside her containment chamber that was built and paid for by the Quartet," he looked up with a smirk to the Band of billionaire Brothers.

Jace looked up with a sour frown to see Louie. "Who has instructed this nourishing meal to prisoner Katt, sir?"

"I did. Who the hell are..." Warden Alfonso Schmidt moved through the kitchen door and shoved between the bodies that were blocking the entrance, emerging with a sour frown. He spun around with a smile and a nod to see the Quartet, extending his hand Austin. "Austin, Stu welcome..."

Stu reached and yanked the hand of Alfonso instead of shaking it, pulling the short man into his furious scowl, pointing to the bread in Jace's palm and said with a sneer and a puff of bad breath. "You feed our prisoner this fucking shit for mealtime."

Austin said with a smirk, "Stu." Berrington desired the dirty deed of bleeding the face of Alfonso later, after the murderess trial had been completed. Then he and Stu could take turns and teach Alfonso some southern Florida social graces about little girls.

Alfonso back stepped from Gage, straightening and pressing his suit jacket with his hand, saying with a smirk to the sour puss face of Gage. "Bread and water as required by the state of Florida prison regulation number forty-five, page twenty-one..."

Stu reached and yanked the petrified loaf from Jace's open palm and shoved the bread into Alfonso's face as burnt flakes landed on the floor. "You eat this shit, sir."

Alfonso back stepped in fear from Stu, jabbing a finger and a sour frown to the door. "Get out of my prison, now. Leave my facility, immediately."

"We're leaving, sir, but we will be back. And you will not like it, either." Jace moved and stood over the hair roots on Alfonso, swinging around with a smirk, jerking the bread slice from Stu's hand and yelled. "Thomas!"

"What?" Tom stood in front of the wall of cabinets, crossing his arms, enjoying the vicious action.

"With me...." Jace ordered.

Tom did not flinch on his leathers or his eyelids thinking that Jace got super inflamed too easy, using his irrational emotions like Austin and Frank. Jace desired the legal eagle advice on Tom for free, since Jace could be more dominating and threatening than asshole Austin. Jace was the private family physician who thought he was a god, first and a doctor, second like Frank, who was the other smart ass physician in the Quartet family. "Hell, no," Tom said with a grin, staying put. He planned to see the dog fight between Stu and Alfonso or Alfonso and Austin or a combo of three.

Stu was upset after learning that he had helped, indirectly, the tiny girl starve-to-death while faithfully depending on his trusted and well paid QA guards to do their damn job with both honesty and integrity.

And they fucked up royally.

So Stu would beat the fucking blood, guts, and shit out of the Quartet employees and maybe a couple of prison guards in about ten minutes or so. Stu greatly hated it when people were being mistreated as Big Man was in charge of your security, protection, and fucking heavenly soul.

Jace reached and grabbed the new business sleeve and hugged Tom into his chest as Jace was taller, stronger, and meaner than Sawyer. Jace possessed a bull elephant bulk from his delicious gourmet eating of too much, too rich, and too often. Jace stood up at six feet and seven inches, carrying his massive weight with both an elegant style and a bold demeanor, dressing in his expensively tailored wool suit. He whispered into Tom's eardrum. "Now, boy."

"Austin!?" Tom meekly yelped as it was too late, too far and too fast for a rescue from Austin or Frank or Stu.

Jace moved with Tom down the familiar hallway when he had assisted with the new construction at the prison. "Tom, we've going to see Cutter."

"Fuck sh..." Tom could not breathe as Jace strangled the throat muscle on Tom with his own new suit jacket which cut off the impending sting of curse words that Sawyer enjoyed using way too much when he pissed off to the lunar moon.

Jace bad breathes into Tom's face. "I don't want ya misbehaving, Tom. I'll get really pissed. This matter is very important to me, very important. I don't have Austin's patience with you. Understand, boy?"

"Fu..." Tom strained the vowels through a tight throat as Jace cuddled and exited out the prison doors.

Jace tosses his hand to signal as Joe snapped open the limo door. Jace tossed Tom's ass in the rear bench, ordering. "Court house..."

Joe slammed the door and scooted into the driver's seat, driving through the crowd without care or caution, since Jace was like Austin, who demanded justice to the little people in the world.

2:02 p.m.

Miami-Dade courthouse (ten miles south of Miami Shores)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Joe enjoyed reading the newspapers and watching television with his family like a regular American family too. However, the latest show on the television screen displayed a young girl like a caged animal on the program as he worried that she did not have a lawyer to stop the media, the guards, and the warden.

The limousine sped down to the court house as Joe ease dropped onto the intense debate which was flowing through the open panel of the window into the cab of the limousine.

Jace turned with a sour frown and a matching tone to see Tom. "Find Cutter? I want an audience now."

Tom slowly pulled out his mobile telephone from his new business suit, saying with a sour tone and a matching brow. "Pissing on a federal judge off gets ya life in prison, Jace," he swished the familiar icon on the menu, slowly drawing the phone to his ear, hearing the ring, and listened to the connection, watching the silver streaks of flying metal along the interstate.

Joe was breaking the speed barrier in Austin's limo.

"Park it, Thomas." Jace sneered at Tom.

Tom said with a grin and a giggle to Jace. "Do you want to make an appointment for this afternoon around two?"

Jace growled. "No asshole. Find his whereabouts the court room, the office, the bathroom shitting."

Tom giggled and heard the connection, saying with a smooth tenor with a smile. "Good afternoon. This is Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. I am very much interested in locating the respectful federal circuit court judge His Honor Sherman Cutter. Is he around the office on this lovely day of Miami today, by chance?"

Pause.

"Thank you very kindly for answering my brief inquiry. I really appreciate your pleasant assistance." Tom removed and pocketed his mobile telephone back into his new business jacket. "Cutter's in his chambers awaiting his next case at two sharp."

Jace said with a nod and a smile. "Good. We have enough time for a quick trip to voice in person my humanitarian complaint which takes precedent over any USA case, court, or judge, immediately."

Tom stared at Jace, shaking his bangs. "Holy fucking shit. You're walking into a judge's chamber unannounced," exhaling with a huff of frustration. "Jace, do you have a death wish or something?"

The flying limousine jolted to a rough roll and stopped.

Jace jerked the door open, reaching and grabbing Tom by the new business sleeve again, moving out the limousine.

They moved and entered the court house, advancing through the x-ray machine.

The elevator doors opened.

Jace jerked Tom into an empty open elevator, standing and cuddling him from escaping to another one of the familiar building floors.

The door closed.

Tom listened to the ding sounds, looking up and watching the advancing numbers of the floor, knowing how Cutter operated. Tom would wait for asshole Jace to get jailed for invasion, since Sawyer was the great criminal lawyer, and then he would bail Jace's butthole out of jail, because asswipe Austin would get mad too.

However, the brilliant criminal lawyer Tom could not control dipstick Jace's irrational impromptu stupid asshole actions but only eye witnessed them over and over again.

The tiny bell dinged for the correct office level as the door opened.

Jace jerked and marched Tom out the elevator, moving and reading the wall signage and not depending on selfish Tom for any important matter. He would do all the talking, correction...yelling.

Jace did not give a damn about a pompous arrogant federal judge that parked his ass on top of the polished wood.

A life was a life.

And Jace was a demi-god, since all physicians thought themselves as a god with a little 'g.'

Jace happened to be a step below a god, marching to the private chamber of Cutter.

Medical researcher Jace held many human lives between his palms every day from an immature birth to deadly illness of an adult.

This girl was a medical mystery marvel. Katt had something different and unique and Jace wanted to figure it out and explain it and not for glory or money for the honor of saving her life.

Jace was a very wealthy man, because boss man Austin paid very well for Jace to be the only medical physician for the entire Quartet family, including the Quartet Associates employees. Jace could retire from working his daily job and enjoy a deadline free life, but Jace was physician helping people. He deeply desired to medically cure this girl, since Miss Kattrell needed his help, his prayers, and his God Almighty given medical talents.

Jace slammed the door of the reception open, moving and planting Tom's ass inside a leather chair on the side wall, advancing to the open archway into Cutter's office without stopping and ignoring the ugly girl with the telephone receiver which was glued to her ear.

"Sir," the receptionist dropped her mouth and the telephone receiver, standing and racing behind Jace.

A pissed off Tom quietly sat and patiently waited for a team of federal court house guards to show and haul Jace's ass to one of the temporary prisons behind Cutter's private chambers for a single contempt charge usually reserved for the misbehaving lawyers.

Tom snickered, since Jace would get an ass boot kick into his fucking balls, because this was Tom's arena all the legal shit and not Jace's.

Office setting of Judge Sherman Cutter

2:16 p.m.

A shadow stood in the archway and stalked Cutter, who was talking on the telephone landline receiver. The shadow entered the room, saying with a nod and a grin to Cutter. "Dr. Jace Justin Jackson, Junior. I am the physician for Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. A pleasure to meet you, Judge Cutter. I brought lunch for you, sir." Jace reached and placed a black and brown bread on the top of the tallest stack of neatly bound legal folders.

Cutter looked up with a sour frown to see Jace and he appreciated the goodwill and free medical service that Jace would serve to Miss Kattrell. Cutter could not interfere with the current vocal and visual outrage in the city streets of Miami while appearing partial to the young girl which might get him kicked off this messy murderess case.

He desired to rule as a fair and just former criminal attorney and a current federal judge. Miss Kattrell needed a fair and just trial and not a slaughter house inside the court gallery. Cutter cut his eyeballs to a tiny burnt bread slice.

Reception area

2:18 p.m.

Tom sniggered, hearing the words in the air waves.

"Thomas, get your ass in here." Cutter yelled from his office desk.

"Shit..." Tom whispered and shook his bangs, exhaling with a huff of annoyance. Hard ass Cutter would toss his butthole in jail with Jace's. Tom should have threatened to shoot Jace's toes rather than allowed him to annoy Sherman, but cool bro Stu would bail both of them out of the jail house.

Sawyer slowly stood, straightening his new bowtie and his new jacket, moving and dreading this encounter, foreverly.

Office of Judge Sherman Cutter

2:20 p.m.

Cutter stared at arrogant Thomas in the archway.

Tom stared at the blackened petrified piece of bread on the top of legal folders, turning and looking up with a sour frown to see Jace.

Jace stared at Cutter.

Cutter sat and pointed to the blackened bread. "Do you know about this, Thomas?"

Tom crossed his arms and shook his bangs, "Hell no. Alfonso's domain with the entire exhibition of the girl along with the money collecting at the other shit..."

"Exhibition? Money? Specific?" Cutter frowned.

"Let us discuss this delicate matter in route. Should we, Judge Cutter?" Jace leaned over and grabbed the piece of blackened bread, saying with a smile and a calm tone.

Cutter stood, swinging around to the hat rack behind his chair, donning his silk black robes, and turned around with a smirk to see Jace. "I will go and present as a federal judge, of a federal court, in case, I need some federal muscle." He moved and led Jace and Tom through the archway, saying with a smile to see his secretary. "Cancel all my cases until tomorrow, Emma."

5:45 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Mr & Mrs Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove III

Three Coral Avenue

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

Renaissance man Frank enjoyed living among the old and ancient relics that he had collected throughout his thirty years which reflected his boyhood fantasy of the cool medieval era as stated in his world history textbooks. His castle also represented and boasted some of the same architectural designs of the medieval era too.

The roof top was composed of circles which stood over each wing of the four story book fairy tale house that was made of gray tinted limestone. There were six wings which included the bedrooms, the kitchen area, the dining room, the great room, the entertainment room, and the fitness center. All the floor level patio doors led out to the golden sands of the blue greenish tinted Atlantic Ocean.

The museum room was located inside the entertainment wing of his castle and displayed all of Frank's neat stuff which consisted of modern science toys, musical records, and ancient weapons.

The weapons were locked in a glass covered gun safe, since Tom liked to play cowboys and Indians with Frank's priceless gun collection. Some of the ancient weapons still possessed spurts and splashed of real red dried blood from some long time real dead soldiers, who had fought in some long time real war. There were old and modern art work paintings, many famous and non-famous hard globs of granite, clay, and marble people sculptures and million upon millions of dollars in the form of Misty's personal gem stone collection.

Upon entrance his castle, Franklin's pride and joy displayed predominately. There were two rows of life-sized steel-plated knights-in-armor without the human bones. The twelve elegant knights guarded over the dark tint bamboo walls of the entrance foyer. When your dress leathers stepped upon the shiny and gleaming black and white marble floor, your eyeballs looked up to see a baby blue skyline or across the tile to see a greenish-blue ocean water which led into the great room of the house with numerous ceiling skylights and a wall of glass shiny windows.

The lady of the manor Misty Marie beautifully drowned on a daily basis in an assortment of shiny diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. O mine.

Frank was a certified gemologist, enjoying his side hobby when not money counting as a certified public accountant at Quartet Associates. Frank also held a medical degree in dermatology from the Miami-Dade School of Medicine but deferred all medical treatments and protocols to his good friend Justin Jace Jackson, Junior, since Jace was a world renowned medical researcher in the medical field of infectious diseases.

Tom held the limo door open for the Quartet wives.

Misty exited first and looked sexy in her one-shoulder strap black jersey dress, suffocating her throat with a gold chunky necklace. Her gold earrings danced over a naked collar bone. She proudly jiggled her big breasts and a pair of long tanned legs underneath her teenager-length shorty short skirt hem. A pair of black and gold high heel summer sandals stood on the pavement from the limo, reaching her manicured fingernails for Frank.

Frank wrapped his arm around her, escorting his princess into their castle for the evening meal.

Gracie dazzled in her gold and white top and black sailor pants. Her gold dangling bracelets tinkled, stretching her arm to Stu for protection, love, and support.

Gage curled his arm around his wife, pulling her close, kissing her perfumed cheekbone as they turned and moved behind the lady and lord of the Mangrove Castle.

Jane elegantly slid onto the sidewalk, sizzling in the black strapless jumpsuit with a gold buckle, curving out her waist. A pair of flared leg pants displayed her height of five feet and ten inches and as her skull showed a set of curly light reddish-brown hair, and a tone of pink tinted skin. Her golden freckles came from swimming exercises inside their pool.

Austin must have found Janey sizzling hot too and kidnapped her hand from Tom's arm, assisting Mrs. Sawyer out of the rear bench from the limo.

Janey accepted her brother's hand, strolling with Austin into the Mangrove Manor to the casual dining room as Tom happily trailed behind his Quartet brothers and the Quartet wives.

Informal dining room

5:55 p.m.

The informal dining room featured a long undivided window, showing off the eastern side of the Atlantic Ocean. The north wall hugged a limestone mantle which was below a gold and white granite fireplace without the fiery flames. A south wall was stacked with an array of small and tall buffet hutches, where the steaming drifted up from the numerous pots and pans of smell-good food.

Busy house servants ran around the table, sitting up the atmosphere for dinner and moved out the dining room, leaving the manor for their homes and the Quartet alone.

The dining room table sat underneath a glamorous crystal and iron chandelier which created a dim lighting effect on both the eyeballs and the stomachs.

The mahogany wooden eating table was rounded and not squared which was a copycat of one of King Arthur's furniture pieces, where it was told inside the ancient adventure novel Knights of the Round Table written by some British writer.

And the novel was a favorite of Frank, since he could read at the age of six.

The colors of the table swirled in gold and white silk strands on the tablecloth which was underneath a set of delicate fine bone china plates of beige and gold trimmed which sorta matched the gold plated eating utensils. A deformed banana-shaped bench fits a pair or two individual sitting side-by-side without any additional warm body.

Austin maneuvered Janey to the nearest unoccupied banana-shaped bench, pulling out the bench as Mrs. Sawyer sat with a grin. Then Austin quickly occupied the same banana-shaped bench.

"Hey, man." Tom moved and stood, bad breathing down over the hair roots on Austin.

"Over here, Tom. Sit with me." Jace patted an empty spot on his banana-shaped bench for Tom at the Quartet dinner tonight.

At Austin's house, a pretty whore flirted with Berrington at his dinner table. At Frank's house, Jace attended without missing a beat or a plate of food, always sitting next to Austin's ass and warming the chair.

Tom stood and bad breathed over the hair roots on Austin, "Jane!?"

"Beside me, sweetheart," Jane patted the empty spot with Jace.

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, moving and plopping his ass in the vacant space as he turned with a sour frown and a sneer to see the nose profile on Austin, who had occupied his hot seat next to his hot wife for some hot damn unexplained fucking ass reason.

Frank lifted his wine glass, saying with a smile and a nod to his Quartet family. "Tonight, to a little crystal, a little gold, and a little success..."

"Cheers." Stu lifted his glass, smiling with a nod and drinking the wine.

"Hear. Hear." Austin lifted his glass, smiling with a nod and a smile too.

"Great toast," Jace lifted his glass with a smile and a nod also.

"Thanks, Frank." Jane lifted her glass with a smile too.

"Jane." Tom did not raise his glass, viewing her nose profile, saying with a sad frown.

"Sweetheart," Jane turned with a smile to see sour puss Tom, patting his hand like an old friend.

Tom stared at the cheekbone of Austin, since the rest of the face was hiding behind Jane's face profile, watching Jane and Austin paired like two fucking lovers on his bench in his spot with his wife.

Tom narrowed his eyelids, growling as Austin moved and curved his bicep around Jane, whispering into her eardrum. Tom ignored the house staff, the steak, the potatoes, the salad, and three buttered rolls, fuming with jealousy at his older brother Austin.

Jane was his wife, his girl, and his soul mate.

Austin needed a nice wife and not his wife.

Tom ignored the good-smelling food, staring at Austin's cheekbone as Austin shifted his body closer to Jane and whispered a set of secret words into her eardrum.

Jane slowly nodded, using the fork and the knife, consuming her food.

Tom lifted the knife into the air, growling, and viciously stabbed the steak with the lethal blade, pretending the skull of Austin. He nosily scarred the cow bone from the pink meat and not eating it either but watched the blood flow over plate, wishing it was Austin's blood too.

Sawyer turned and stared, narrowing his eyelids with fury at his older brother as his new foe cuddled closer to Jane on his bench like a fucking lover.

Austin shifted his hand, touching Jane's hair, working his other hand with the fork and the potato.

Jane slightly nodded, eating like a true South Florida lady.

"Tom." Jace pointed his finger across Tom's cheekbone at the object.

"What?" Tom growled, viewing Austin's cheekbone.

"Pass me the salt." Jace said as Tom reached and shoved the salt shaker backwards, spilling a tiny portion of the white contents across the golden tablecloth. Jace chuckled, reaching and grabbing it. "Tough break, Tom. That's bad luck. Toss some over your right shoulder quickly before..."

"Shut up, asshole..." Tom snarled, viewing Austin's cheekbone, leaning and invading her space, since he could not hear Austin's secret words being too far, too mad, and too upset. He saw the love scene with his perfect vision as Austin cuddled his wife in front of Frank and Stu.

Stu ignored the commotion, eating like a monkey.

Frank conversed with his nonsense sentences with Jace and ate and conversed with more nonsense sentences with Misty.

Tom was getting madder by the millisecond and if Austin touched her hair one more time.

Austin ate the tiny bites of his food, chewed chews the tiny bites of his food, and swallowed the tiny lump of his food, wiping his mouth, placing his bicep around Jane again, and he whispered secret words again.

Tom sweetly said, viewing Austin's cheekbone. "Jane?"

Jane turned with a smile to see sour puss Tom, pointing his full plate of food. "The steak's delicious. You need to eat your meat and vegetables too, sweetheart."

Tom nodded and always obeyed his wife, since he loved her.

Jane returned to her food, working hard on eating as Austin cuddled her, whispering more secret words into her ear. Jane listened and nodded while chewing.

"Yes, sweetheart," Tom held her arm, using his other hand with a set of sloppy eating manners, wolfing down the steak in three bites and the potato in two gulps, chewing with his mouth open. Sawyer burped, displaying his food-stained tongue for eating too fast.

Jane turned with a sour frown to see Tom, "Sweetheart!?" Then she sweetly smiled at him.

Tom grins goofy at her with love.

Then Jane turned and returned to her food plate as Austin scooted closer and cuddled her again, whispering his secret words to her eardrum.

"Sorry." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing Austin's cheekbone again. His mind flooded with the nasty thoughts of a love affair. But Jane was happily devoted to Tom.

Austin was a suave playboy and a rough beast with all women and girls both young and old.

Jane would never ever want Berrington as her soul mate.

Tom growled and watched as Austin chewed and swallowed his food, cuddling closer to Jane with his secret words.

"Jane?" Tom said with a smile, viewing her nose profile.

"Yes, Tom." Jane sliced her food.

Tom said with an aggregated nods and a big smile to her nose profile. "I'm finished. Let's go home. Please, sweetheart," he leaned over the bench armrest, tugging on her arm with his dirty hands.

Jane turned with a smile to see Tom. "I'm not finished eating. Don't you want your dessert, sweetheart?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Tom grinned with a goofy smile of love and shoved his dinner plate aside, nosily sipping on his bourbon drink, spying on Austin.

Austin removed his bicep as Tom exhaled with puff of whiskey breath.

Jane nodded, whispering to Austin's face as Austin smiled and pecked her cheekbone.

"Enough, Berrington..." Tom stood, holding the steak knife, shifting the bench from the table as Jace dropped his fork and his knife, grabbing the armrest for safety. Tom pointed the sharp steak knife at Austin, growling. "Get away from my wife before I beat the hell out of you, Berrington."

Jane stood and moved away from the sharp knife and Austin, turning with a shocked brow to Tom, "Thomas!?"

Austin stood and raised his palms, shaking his skull. "Tom, calm down. We're talking. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause ya heart ache. I would never come between you and Janey never ever. I swear to God Almighty," dropping his mouth.

Stu scooted his dining room chair from his ass, slamming it against the wall, running and grabbing Tom's weapon hand and shoved Tom into Jane.

Jane captured Tom, hugging him. "Tom, sweetheart," she kissed his food stained lips as they surfaced. Tom grinned goofy as she smiled. "Thank you for being so jealous and protective. But I'm with my brother. You and I will have each other, tonight."

"Sorry but you're mine." Tom pouted and hugged her. "Can we leave now, Jane?"

Stu swung around, waving the steak knife in the air, moving back to his food plate. "We all know that. We're all brothers and sisters protecting and loving each other. Sit the fuck down and finish your good meal and shut down your brain, Tom," he touched the chair, moving it to his spot at the table, sitting and eating his food.

He sat at his bench, saying with a nod and a smile to the ass on Tom. "This is so nice to see a beautiful loving family get-together." Jace ate his food.

"Shut up, asshole," Tom exhaled and helped Jane to sit and sat in his spot with Jace, holding her hand and not letting go until they were safely home together for the evening.
Wednesday June 23rd

7:13 a.m.

Quartet Associates headquarters

33rd floor business office setting of Austin

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

Austin sat inside his office chair behind his office desk which was empty and clear except for the landline telephone unit, staring at the blonde hair roots on Tom during the scheduled morning meeting. "We defend the little people."

"We don't defend the little people. We defend our staff." Tom read his money magazine, crossing his ankles, lounging in his chaise chair which was located in the northwest corner of Austin's executive office, since the beginning of Quartet Associates business day.

"Ya got a problem defending people other than our staff members, Tom?" Stu stared at the blonde hair roots on Tom, sipping on his green tea.

"Naw." He giggled, viewing the article. "Don't gots a problem defending people staff members or not, who are truly innocent from any alleged murderous inhuman crimes of state or country."

Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance, saying with a sour frown to the hair roots on Tom. "This matter is not funny, Thomas."

Tom smiled and flipped the page of the magazine, tapping his leather to an invisible song inside his head. "Of course, it is. This case doesn't affect me, you, him, we, or us. Anyways, she doesn't have a chance in hell even Satan sided with the prosecution this time," he giggled, tapping his leather tips on the paint job with the high anticipation of a death chamber scene displayed in Tallahassee on paid television.

"Tom just noted that she doesn't have a chance in hell, so then the Quartet will give her the chance in heaven." Austin turned with a nod and a grin to see Frank. Frank turned with a nod and a grin to see Stu. Stu stared at the blonde hair roots on Tom, who was reading the magazine.

"Nope, too risky, too hot, I decline." Tom was the top cat for all law matters, defending any client that Quartet Assholes accepted.

"You have a choice, Tom." Austin narrowed his eyelids at the hair roots on Tom.

"Right-o, Austin. I do have a choice." Tom looked up with a laugh and a grin to see Austin. "I select last chair." He looked down and flipped the page of his magazine.

In a court of law, the first chair was the principal lawyer of the defending legal team, who worked and performed as a solo act for the accused criminal, fighting the loss cause, and winning the victory for the legal client. The last chair was a lazy uncaring person out of touch, out of sight, and out of mind of the entire legal conduction of the progressing law court trial.

"I would agree with you under any type of normal circumstances, but these circumstances are abnormal, rare in fact. Do you agree with me, Tom?" Austin stared at the blonde hair roots on Tom.

Tom flipped the page. "Whatever!"

"Therefore, we should defend the angel of death." Austin said with a nod and a smile to the hair roots on Tom.

Stu frowned. "What did you say, Austin? Please repeat that for all of us."

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, looking up with a sour frown and a matching tone, since he was not going to work against the district attorney office of Miami anytime, anyhow or anywhere. "Why, Austin?"

Austin smiled. "She is a victim and not a killer."

Tom narrowed his eyelids. "How in the universe did you figure that out? The evidence is too overwhelming against her and her heavenly Angels," he chuckled, looking down to see the magazine again.

Austin said, "My feeling, my gut instinct, my gut reaction."

"Great." He waved a hand, staring at the magazine. "Now, Berrington uses his awesome Tele powers like my alien girl Starra," Tom sounded with a groan, flipping through the pages.

"Pay attention, Tom." Frank sneered at the blonde hair roots on Tom.

Austin said with a nod and a grin to the blonde hair roots on Tom. "All right! We vote. If we all agree, then the Quartet is going to defend the little girl in this murder case. Frank?" He turned with a smile to see Mangrove.

Frank turned and smiled to Austin, "Fine with me."

Tom sounded with a moan, looking up with a sour frown to see Frank.

"Stu?" Austin turned and smiled to Gage.

Stu leaned over with a grin to the nose profile on Frank. "What's the answer, Franklin?"

"Fine with me," Frank turned and smiled at Tom.

Tom sounded with another groan, viewing Gage.

Stu sat upright, saying with a smile and a yell. "Fine with me..."

Austin snorted. Frank chuckled. Tom growled.

"Tom?" Austin turned and smiled to sour puss faced Sawyer.

Tom said. "No."

Austin said. "Tom?"

Tom said. "No."

Frank sneered. "Thomas?"

Tom shook his bangs. "No, my record's spotless."

"And it will continue to be." Frank smiled to Tom.

"A chance, you are willing to take and not I, Mangrove." Tom looked down with a sour frown to see the magazine.

Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance and looked down to see his empty desk and up to see the hair roots on Tom, turning with a nod and a grin to see Frank and Stu, standing. "Plan B."

Frank nodded and stood, crossing his arms, staring at the hair roots on Tom.

Stu stood, waiting for Austin's solo command to beat the shit out of an arrogant Thomas, since Sawyer did not want to conform to the new Quartet rule. The new Quartet rule was greedily established last night after dinner which Tom missed, because he and Janey went home for the evening.

"What the hell is Plan B?" Tom thumbed through the magazine.

"I have a backup in case Plan A fails." Austin smirked to the hair roots on Tom.

"Which is?" Tom stopped and read the article in the magazine, tapping his leather tip on the paint job.

"Janey will defend Miss Kattrell." Austin crossed his arms, eluding his boss power move over Tom, readying for the mental and physical challenge as the batch of new and old glossy magazines nosily swished down to the tiles from Sawyer's lap.

Tom leaped off the chaise, waving both his hands, dropping his mouth. "What in the fucking-ass hell is going on here?"

Austin said with authority and not smiling. "Since you have declined preferring to sit a disappointing last chair, Janey will sat and be first chair," smirking to Tom.

Tom shook his bangs and his hands, narrowing his eyelids, and advanced and banged his kneecaps against the edge of Austin's desk. "Say that damn fucking ass thing, again?"

Austin said. "Janey will be first chair."

"No." Tom jabbed a manicured fingernail at Austin, saying with a furious brow. "You talked to my wife, my queen bee over my fucking head..."

"She's the real boss, Tom." Stu smiled. The Quartet wives ruled over their husbands for both protection and love.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom turned with an angry brow and a snarl to see Stu and back to Austin.

Austin said and stared to the red face on Tom. "I talked with Mrs. Sawyer, Mrs. Gage, and Mrs. Mangrove, as well. Each one has decided with me..."

"All of us excluding you, Tom," Frank leaned forward to Tom in case of an attack at the Old Man, since Tom might win the fight as a loving and devoted husband, because Austin was talking about Sawyer's wife.

"We will defend Katt." Austin said as the boss of the Quartet.

Tom shakes his hands and his bangs. "She's not qualified..."

"Janey's a lawyer." Austin said.

"...for the State of Florida like you, Tom." Frank nodded.

"Know that. I tried to hire her..." Tom smiled and replayed their first date in his heart and his mind, almost every day.

"But ya married her instead." Stu smiled with delight for the happy Sawyer couple.

"That's when I fell in love with my devoted and beautiful wife. She doesn't work as my wife." Tom dropped his hands, slapping his legs, saying with a sour frown to Austin.

"Business is done." Austin reseated inside his throne chair with a grin to Tom. Tom stood, shaking his bangs.

"Tom refuses." Frank reseated too inside his oversized chair with a chuckle.

"And's making up excuses." Stu sat with a grin to the nose profile on Tom.

Austin said to Tom. "Janey will lead the defense team as first chair for Quartet Associates. She offered to represent Katt last night at dinner without your permission as she is a licensed..."

"No." Tom slammed his fist on Austin's empty desk, growling and jabbing a manicured fingernail at Austin. "Ya fucking son of bitch, blackmailing my wife. The answer is no, no, no, and finally no. Mrs. Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third, who is my beautiful and smart wife, is not. I will repeat to a set of deaf eardrums and a pair of blind eye balls is not going to be her damn attorney."

Austin grinned. "Janey is a brilliant lawyer and willing to help..."

"No!" Tom lifted his hands in fury. "I absolutely forbade it over my fucking dead body and...wait..." he reached for his Ghost in his jacket pocket.

"Calm down, Tom." Frank stood and moved closer to the nose profile on Tom, anticipating a physical fight between his brothers.

Tom searched and viewed his jacket pocket and patted down the outer pockets of his new business suit with both hands, saying with a confused brow. "Where the hell's my Ghost?"

Stu chuckled and sat, sipping his tea. "Janey removed your weapon from your jacket, this morning, after I called her."

Tom turned with a sour frown and jabbed a manicured finger to Stu. "Fuck you, you, and you," back stepped and swung to the door for an escape and a tattle to Jane. Frank moved and blocked the door, extending his arms, shaking his skull. Tom waved his hand back and forth without hitting the face of Mangrove, growling. "Get out of the way, Ferdinand."

Austin sat and said with authority. "Do not bother escaping, Tom."

"...or tattling to Janey," Stu sat and chuckled.

Fourteen years ago

City of Coral Gables

Childhood of Thomas Edison Sawyer, III

As a small child, he ran to his mom and his dad when he did not get his way at play time, at lunch time, at school time, at sports time, and at any other time. Tom tattled on Frank, Austin, and Stu, who were acting both mean and unkind to his person. Of course, Frank, Stu, and Austin received an ass whipping from each and every lying encounter coming out on Tom's flapping lips.

Present day

7:21 a.m.

Office setting of Austin

As a grown-up, he ran to Janey for everything, complaining about the improper treatment from his brothers at work time, at play time, at sports time, at dinner time, and at any other time. Janey reprimanded the brothers by chatting with the Quartet wives.

Frank and Stu loved and worshiped their wives.

So Frank, Stu, and Austin pretended to be nice to Tom for the next two solar sun days and moon light nights until the boring ass maneuver wore out, then Frank and Stu started badgering the sleazy lawyer all over again.

And the vicious cycle continued...

Tom swung around and viewed with a snarl and a sour brow Austin. "Why the hell not, Austin?"

Stu sat and smiled. "Our lovely ladies will be present in ten minutes and forty-five seconds."

Tom dropped his mouth. "Here!?"

Austin grinned. "I invited them for breakfast."

Tom jumped up and down, jabbing a manicured finger at Berrington. "Damn you, Austin. Ya tricked me."

"This is Plan A, brothers." Austin winked to Frank as Tom fumed with fury. Stu laughed.

"It's really working." Frank smiled, moving and reseating in his assigned chair, grabbing his warm tea.

"I told you. It would work." Stu sipped his tea.

Tom looked down with a sour frown to see the tile, shaking his bangs. "Damn. Damn. Damn." He looked up with a stern face to see Austin, shaking his hands and his bangs, "Okay, All right."

"Let's fight," Frank fist-bumped and laughed with Stu for shitty fun.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Mangrove. "Fuck off, Frank." He swung back with a stern face to Austin. "Holy fucking shit. You...my brothers want to employ Plan A. Okay. I will do it." He extends his arms, nodding. "Not Jane, not my wife, she ain't involved in this dangerous murderess trial."

"Agreed," Austin said.

"None of our lovely ladies will be involved, Tom." Frank nodded as he wanted Misty far away from the messy murder trial too.

"Agreed," Austin said.

"Dangerous!?" Stu turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Frank.

"Fucking dangerous..." Tom nodded to Stu.

"Quit jumping to conclusions, Thomas." Gage turned and frowned to Tom.

Tom raised his arms and slapped his legs. "Fine. But I'm going to lose for the first time in my legal career," jabbing a manicured finger at each asshole brother with a sneer. "You, you, and you are to blame for this."

Austin said. "The Quartet doesn't fail. We succeed always."

"Band of the Brothers is together forever." Frank smiled, raising his tea cup

"Tom?" Austin smiled.

"In heaven or hell..." Stu smiled, raising his tea cup.

"Tom?" Austin said with a grin and a nod. "One for all and..." He raised his empty milk glass.

"All for one." Tom whispered, looking down to the floor.

The landline telephone sounded with a buzz.

Austin pressed the speaker button. "Yes, Madeline."

"The ladies are here for breakfast, Austin." Madeline said via the speaker phone.

The Quartet stood and raced through the office archway to their wives.

10:00 a.m.

City of Coconut Grove (one mile north of Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Freda Fly

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Each police officer wore a pair of sunglasses, a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored trousers, and a pair of boat shoes, slowly marching from a shared non-marked police department assigned sedan and over the gray bricked colored sidewalk, surveying the grass, the street, the house, and the sky with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan, stopping on the front porch with a stern face to police officer. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade homicide police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion without makeup.

The uniform police officer of Coconut Grove police department stood in front of the open archway with a stern face, "Go on inside, detectives. Here is a laptop that is filled with the pertain information. The crime scene has not been disturbed. All the photographs so far have been taken. You are welcome to add all your comments about the crime scene." He extended the computer to Loree.

"It feels like déjà vu inside here." Loree accepted and cuddled the laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a stern face, scanning the room.

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, moving with Loree into the living room.

The room was around with various sized tables, long and short. There were blank canvases of white with numerous trays of colorful painting supplies. Each side wall held a row of clear windows for viewing numerous rows of trees. The front yard faced a grove of trees. The back door faced a grove of trees.

Loree twirled around the room, looking out the windows with a smile and a laugh. "Coconut Grove, now, I understand the name of the quaint city. There are rows of coconut trees around her house. If my old memory serves, Coconut Grove is the oldest neighborhood in Miami. It was established in the year 1919. And it is called 'The Grove' by all the locals. The first wave of immigrates into Coconut Grove was in the year 1825 when the Cape Florida lighthouse started working. Then there was the British invasion into Coconut Grove. The first hotel was built in the year 1882 and called the Bay View Inn which is now really Peacock Park." He turned and moved around the Florida room at each furniture and wall item with a stern face and a nod.

"She doesn't possess much in the way of sitting and eating furniture items, mostly tables and paint supplies. I guess a starving artist. This room doesn't have a television or a radio. This girl was indeed strange." Hardy stopped and stared with a puzzled brow at the oversized sitting chair with the female. "The girl is clearly blue colored and dead again. And she is sitting upright on her ass and posed like she is talking with someone inside the chair again. This is really weird again. And I bet that we don't find one single fingerprint again. What do you think, Loree?"

He smiled. "Well, she made a good living as a starving artist. Coconut Grove has a number of outdoor festivals and events. The most prominent is the annual Coconut Grove Arts Festival. Then there is the King Mango Strut in December. The Great Taste of the Grove Food and Wine Festival takes place each April. Each June there is the Goombay Festival of Bahamian culture and food and art works."

Hardy lifted and tapped on the laptop with a stern face, reading the police report. "She is Freda Fly, owner of the house and an artist of art works in paint. Her favorite design is flowers. She owns a car that's parked inside the gravel drive. She lives alone, not married. She is twenty-eight years old. She has a bachelor's degree in art from Miami-Dade University. Her parents live in the Coral Gables area. Hobbies are not listed. But she is a painter."

Loree nodded with a hum, scanning the room. "She painted with the wrong friend. Who find her?"

She exhaled. "The grocery boy, he knocked on the door. But she didn't answer. He returned to store and told the manager. Then the manager called and then reported to the police. It was odd that she ordered a bag of groceries and didn't want to pay for them. So the police came over and knocked on the door, finding her dead. And then they called us." Hardy stared down at the body. "She looks dead less than twenty-four hours that means another murderer struck at night, after my dinner, sorta like the other one about a week ago that we saw in South Miami. The forensic lab can verify the death information again. And I don't see any forced entrance, such like, a broken window or busted down door, again."

Loree moved and stopped, standing beside Hardy, looking down to see the dead girl with a laugh. "Probably, the same angry boyfriend that missed the hot passionate love of the first girl he killed, since it is always the murderer with the front door key inside the back of his Bermuda shorts."

Hardy frowned down at the dead girl. "She is pretty with a set of long red colored hair and pink skin."

He nodded. "This is indeed odd again. But this is Coconut Grove, a hot day of murder."

She back stepped from the dead body with a nod. "All right, I have added our observations into the laptop."

He frowned. "A paint brush is inside her hand."

She nodded with a stern face. "She was brushing on a canvas which is very significant clue to me. The murderer is teasing us, since she or he is an art buyer. We will have the junior detectives comb through her clientele listing which should wrap up this murder one, pretty fast. We will send the information to our team of junior detectives to investigate and follow up on with her art friends and her art clientele. Let's go and grab some lunch while we wait on the official report." She turned with a nod and a smile, moving ahead to the uniform police officer. "Here, we update the laptop. Please send to the homicide division at the downtown Birmingham police headquarters."

Hardy moved and pulled up beside her partner Loree with a smile and a nod. "You can bring inside the forensic team to dust the place for prints. Good day, officer."

They moved down the steps and entered the unmarked police car for a return trip back to the office at police department headquarters in downtown Birmingham.

11:20 a.m.

City of Miami Springs (14 miles northwest of Coral Gables)

Quartet Associates new scientific laboratory

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

The non-descript hallway led to a newly constructed forensics medical laboratory that Frank had constructed for conducting evil experimental medical tests on the vile murderess named Kattleen.

Stu entered the laboratory next and stared at the gray paint on the floor, the walls, the cabinets, the steel plated laboratory equipment, and the matching long eating table.

The table held a glass coffin with a yellow colored dead girl inside for some weird-ass reason as Gage pointed with a laugh and a grin to the dead body inside the coffin. "Stealing forensics evidence are we, boys? That's against the law, sir."

Tom entered and stopped, scanning the laboratory, moving away from the door, and sat his ass in one of the two empty sofas, shaking his bangs, growling. "Fuck. We're going to get into major legal trouble that I have to get us out of..."

"Shut up, Tom." Frank entered behind Tom, moving and stopping in front of the dead girl and the coffin.

Jace stood in front of his new laboratory counter, fiddling with the new lab equipment. "We're not doing anything wrong or illegal, Tom."

Tom pointed with a sneer to the real dead person inside the real glass coffin. "The? Body?"

Jace thumbed the coffin. "We're doing research, our own research."

Stu frowned with disgust, staring the dead girl.

She looked asleep with the eyelashes closed and the arms down at her waist. Her black hair was rolled into a bun behind her neck. A white blanket covered her yellow colored naked body for modesty of the dead.

Gage exhaled with a huff of disgust, turning with a sour frown to see Tom at the end of the same sofa. "We are?"

Tom crossed his kneecaps, saying with a sour frown to Stu. "How so? I need an excuse while I'll posting bail on your asses to Cutter," he winked to Stu. Stu laughs his ass off with Tom.

Frank poked the transparent glass coffin with his fingers looking for an escaping leak of negative air from the decomposing corpse. The dead and rotting corpse might accidentally create a new set of health problems for the Quartet. He said. "We own the body."

Tom narrowed his eyelids with suspicion at the dead girl. "We own a yellow banana that smells worse than the horse stalls in Ocala."

"Correct, Tom." Jace placed three test tubes in the holder stand, marking the scientific notes in his lab notebook.

"Jeezus," Tom exhaled with a huff of disgust, leaping from the sofa, moving to the archway. He could relax better at his private home in Coral Beach rather than here with a dead girl.

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain, Thomas." Jace examined the next test tube.

"Sit, Tom." Austin stared at the coffin too, sitting on the second sofa. He did not want to be here either, watching a dead corpse rot underneath the burning overhead flood lights in Jace's secret laboratory.

"Excuse me, Mister Jesus H. Christ." Tom back stepped and plopped down on the sofa again. He stared at the dead girl in dull yellow, slowly turning dark blue underneath the transparent glass coffin like a very sick scary new demon tale of 'Slumbering Ugly.'

Stu watched Frank sat on the other end of his sofa, "How much for the smelly stiff, Franklin?"

Frank held and read a stack of laboratory papers from Jace. "Are you asking me something important, Stuart?"

Tom snapped his finger pads to Frank for attention with a sour frown and a nod. "You're the big accountant that controls all the big Quartet's bank accounts consisting of billions of USA dollars. Yeah, man. I'm asking ya."

Stu stared at Frank's nose profile. "Spill it, Mangrove."

Frank read the lab papers, "Fifty million."

"Holy fucking shit." Tom turned with a sour frown to see Stu.

Stu shook his baldness to Tom. "Double crap. Fifty mil for a stinky yellow banana. I could've gotten us one at the grocery store down the street for twenty-five cents, Franklin." Tom laughed as Jace grunted. Austin narrowed his eyeballs at the two mischievous pups.

Frank turned with a stern face and a nod to see Stu. "This is important."

"VIP important," Austin turned with a stern face to Stu and vocally support Frank.

"The dynamic duo, together and again," Tom raised his hands and slapped his new trousers, plopping his new leathers on top of the low table, leaning his skull back on the soft fabric of the sofa, and rested his bones from the short walk inside the building, coming from the limousine illegally parked on the city street. He looked up to see the metal ceiling with zillions of tiny finger-sized holes for some dumbass reason.

In the 1960s, the television show of a two-person fighting team was known as the Caped Crusades with super hero Batman and his side kick Robin. Tom liked to tease the love-bird pairing of Austin and Frank with the same cartoon names, because they were always together into something illegal.

Austin stood and moved to the archway, staring at the throat on Tom. "We need to go, Tom."

Tom turned to see the full array of food times on the table which was provided by Frank's money too. "Go where?" He jumped from the sofa, bowing his skull and looked up with a smile to see Austin. "We're going to the Bahamas again," he slapped his new trousers, saying with a nod and a smile. "Gawd and good, I really do need a nifty vacation from all this shit and..."

"You know where, Tom? Stu updated your electronic calendar." Austin stood in the archway, staring at Tom.

"Is that today, now? I need to do my nails first." Tom looked down with a smile to see his newly polished manicure with a grin and a giggle as Stu laughed.

"The first prison visit has been set this morning to introduce ourselves and advise our new client of her rights while we gather her personal testimony. This is your function as the head lawyer of Quartet Associates, Tom. Our new client is named Miss Kattleen Kattrell." Austin stared at the hair roots on Tom.

"Our new guilty client..." Stu stood, narrowing his eyelids at Austin while protecting Tom. Gage had seen that mean mug a thousand times when Austin carried a pissed off attitude at someone. Stu was the muscle in the Quartet for safe guarding every ass, including his baby bro.

Austin jabbed a manicured finger to Stu and Tom. "Do not start Stu or Tom..."

"Frank?" Jace back stepped from the lab counter, spinning to Mangrove, waving a piece of paper.

"Bye Jace." Austin swung and lead out the archway to the limousine, since Joe and Austin's limo were used to cart the brothers around the town for both business and pleasure.

"Later, Jace." Stu grinned, tossing a hand, following behind Austin.

Tom stretched and spun to the archway. "Whatever." He hollered and jogged down the quiet hallway. "Where's she?" Then he giggled, knowing the answer and caught up with Austin.

Stu opened the door, holding for his brothers.

Tom strolled with Austin as they moved out the.

Austin stared at the limousine, saying. "Please remind him, Stu."

This was the only entrance and exit point into the new Quartet building which housed the secret Quartet laboratory.

Austin moved to limousine as Joe waited in the driver's cab for new instructions.

"I forgot." Stu chuckled and elbowed on Tom, who moved through the door. Gage hadn't decided if he wanted to support the new guilty fucking-ass client of Quartet Assholes.

Austin swung around and stopped in Stu's jaw line. Stu stood seven inches taller over Berrington as Austin said with a snarl into Stu's chest, "Miami Springs."

"O. Forgot." Tom giggled and stumbled around the snarling love birds, sniggering at Big Man for disobeying Old Man, pivoting and leaning his new business jacket against the semi-clean limousine door, and crossed his arms for the upcoming bloody fight scene.

And a fucked off Stu might not win against a pissed off Austin.

"I wanna come." Frank shouted, moving through the archway to the love birds, and waved a paper of medical questions from Jace, bumping his shoulder purposefully in the back spike of Stu. Frank shoved Stu to the side and far away from Austin, standing between the two brothers, who were continuing to snort and to snarl at each other.

Tom still leaned against the limo door, shaking his bangs. "No."

"I want to come." Frank turned with a smile to see the nose profile on Austin as Austin snorted and stared with his narrowed eyelids at Stu.

Stu flexed his fists, snarling and staring at Austin.

"Why, Frank?" Tom said with a sour frown to Frank, ignoring grunt match of his other two brothers.

Stu exhaled with a huff of fresh air, back stepping from Austin, clearing his mind of a vicious violent act on Austin's face, and turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Frank. "Doesn't Jace need your vitally important medical know-how?" Berrington was acting like a shit ass, but Gage would discuss that abnormal brotherly behavior with Frank later in private, this evening after dinner.

Frank turned with a smile and a nod to see Stu. "I don't possess the necessary medical knowledge. That's why I need to go to the jail and interview Kattleen. Then I will return back here with the written responses for Jace. He's too involved at the moment. Or he'd come with us." He turned with a nod and a smile to see Austin.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, breathing long deep breaths, turning to see the nose profile on Frank.

"What necessary medical knowledge?" Stu frowned with intrigue.

"If she can pass germs to humans?" Frank grinned to Austin and Stu.

"Fuck." Tom advanced to the huddle with a sour frown in Frank's nose bridge. "Repeat that!?"

"The medical claim is that Kattleen can pass germs while contaminating her victims and then they die a swift and quick death." Frank looked with a grin and a nod to each brother.

"Explain and specific that clinical statement in more medical detail, Frank?" Stu frowned with worry about the supernatural talent of a girl, who was now the current guilty client of Quartet Associates.

Frank grinned to Tom. "Her outer sweat glands on her skin epidermis might contain a new set of air molecules which poison any and all biological life forms, including small animals, common house plants, and Homo sapiens. I use your favored science term, Thomas."

"Who told you that lie, Frank?" Tom frowned in both fury and fear, hearing this new information for the first time, since her weird-ass medical condition plus her crazy psychological personality flaw had murdered 8,063 people, including children and grandmas. Sawyer exhaled with a huff of worry, losing his first legal law case and his brothers were to blame for it all.

Frank grinned with happiness. "Jace did. It's not a lie. It's called fabrication, Tom. Jace is proving the working theory true or false..."

"Fuck." Tom raised his hands, slapping his trousers, saying with a frustrated brow. "True or false? Ya make this sound like a math test, Frank."

Stu grinned. "It kinda is similar to an unsolved math problem using tri..."

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Stu. "Shut the fuck up, Gage." Tom exhaled and viewed Frank, who carried around too many secrets, one being certain death to his person. Sawyer sneered. "Not only do I lose my first legal case, but I'm going to die. How long do I have to live after she attacks me, Frank?"

"Tom." Austin turned with a stern face to see the nose profile on Tom.

Tom frowned and viewed Austin. "I'm not gawd damn joking. How long? Months? Days? Hours? Jeezus. When was the last time I updated my personal Last Will and Testimony document, last week? Last month?" He looked down with a puzzle brow to see sidewalk, shaking his bangs.

"He's stressed." Stu chuckled at the hair roots on Tom.

"He's mental." Frank winked and grinned to Stu.

Tom looked up with a worried brow to see Austin, shaking his hands and his bangs. "I changed my damn mind. Not going. Frank has all the shitty facts. Let him ask the fucking questions to the sick-ass freak." He nodded, crossing his arms.

"Behavior, Tom." Austin shoved Tom backwards to the limo first.

The other brothers slid into the limousine as Austin slapped the doors closed.

Joe drove away from secret Quartet Associates laboratory building to the Miami Shores.

11:26 a.m.

City of Miami Shores (ten miles, northeast, from Miami Springs)

USA Correctional Institute for Women

Sunny and hot temperatures

"Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell is not expected to be released any time soon from this heavy fortified US Federal Correctional Institution for Women. The institution is man-guarded with semi-assault rifles as the facility is hidden away along the beautiful countryside of Miami Springs. This statement was provided by the Miami-Dade police department. An unnamed federal circuit court judge has ordered Miss Kattrell, who is tenderly nicknamed Katt not to be released due to her upcoming closed-minded, deaf-hearing, and blind-seeing murderess trial of 8,063 persons who were murdered throughout the State of Florida.

"Please note. The people murdered are based on exhumed graves. I will repeat that. Each exhumed grave holds a single clue of their unbelievable mysterious death, a yellow crystallized pus coated liver organ. The organ had been found in each dead smelly rotten exhumed corpse dug right out of its metal coffin. Kattrell's trial will begin as soon as the court documents have been received by the unnamed federal circuit court judge which should be sometime on Friday which is based on the latest legal ruling of the First US Circuit Court in Miami. The probe of the murder is being conducted by the Justice Department with the lead prosecutor, the infamous US District Attorney Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior of Charleston, South Carolina." The television reporter smiled into the camera lens.

The camera lens panned back to show a grassy prison yard from the public roadside.

1:02 p.m.

Parking lot

The limousine parked illegally in front of the prison entrance again as the Quartet slid out the transport, moving to the prison lobby.

They advanced to the single prison guard.

"ID?" The US federal correctional prison guard said with a sour frown and a sneer as a set of four individual Florida driver licenses slid underneath the tray. The guard slowly viewed each photograph and shoved all four items back underneath the tray of the bullet proof glass box, saying with a sneer to Austin, "Area?"

"Contamination cell." Austin stared at the guard.

"Prisoner?" The guard grinned.

"Kattrell," Austin stared at the guard.

"Roar..." The guard growled and laughed, standing safely behind the bullet proof glass from Badass Berrington.

"What the hell does that mean, guard?" Austin curled his lips with a sneer, leaning into the glass.

The guard smiled, leaning into the glass at Austin. "Ain't no kitty cat here. She killed eight thousand folks. She's more like a deadly stalking tigress," laughing.

"Show me the girl, now." Austin snarled to the guard.

"This way..." the guard stood from the stool, swinging to the door, pressed the release button, opening the gate. Then the guard moved and strutted down an empty hallway, turning to the left, leading the Quartet. He turned to the left again at the intersection, turning to the right and stopped, pointing to a gray colored door.

The door displayed a small viewing window.

The guard pivoted and laughed. "Roar..." He left the Quartet alone in an empty and quiet hallway.

The Quartet stood in a row, staring at the door.

"Small window," Frank stared at the door, seeing a key pad too.

"1960," Austin stared at the door.

Stu stared at the door. "Secret code to the key pad, I guess."

Tom exhaled with a huff of anxiousness as his tummy flip-flopped with nervousness. "Yeah right. We would want to go in there through the door after you enter the code 1960."

Austin exhaled with a huff of worry, stomping to the door, reaching for the knob.

Frank said. "Wait, PPE."

"Another code, Frank?" Tom turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Frank.

"Personal protection equipment." Frank scanned the hallway and pointed a side door with the red bold letters: Prep Room.

The Prep Room was located on the opposite side of the corridor.

Frank turned and led the Quartet to the door, opening and entering into a cramped dark dressing room, feeling the re-circulated air on his sweaty face.

The ceiling to floor wall shelves overflowed with stacks of brightly colored yellow paper gowns, booties, gloves, caps, and masks which were displayed in assorted sizes.

Frank moved and pulled out a set of PPE gear that matched his height and weight from the middle shelf, decorating over his jacket and his trousers, flipping a yellow bootie over each leather as Austin, Tom, and Stu copied his movements.

Tom finished dressing first, lifting his palms with a goofy grin and a nod. "I win..."

Austin grinned. Frank smiled and Stu snorted.

Frank turned and led the Quartet out the Prep Room and stop.

They formed a line, staring at the gray door for a second view.

Tom shoved Austin forward, saying with a meek voice. "All right. Go." He sweated underneath his armpits with nervous and fear anticipation.

The first door which was shown inside the hallway led inside to an enclosed cave.

Austin moved and stood in front of the first door, punching the number 1960.

The door cracked a few inches as the fresh air hit the nostrils of Austin. He gently glided the metal open, leading the Quartet inside a cave to the second section of the containment cell.

The cave was a foot tunnel to the chamber. The entrance cave housed numerous electronic laser boxes.

Each box would zap a laser at an unidentified human, if you did not input the correct key code, then you were assisting Kattleen to escape. Or Kattleen was escaping for some unexplained bizarre ass reason from her enclosed contamination cell and then the high powered beams were set to kill burning delicate human flesh into red flames and gray ashes.

Austin slowly strutted, leading the Quartet down the quiet cave without art paintings and viewing windows only a set of blinking green lights from the laser boxes, following the cave tunnel to the chamber.

The third section of the containment cell was the viewing chamber.

1:33 p.m.

Containment cell of Kattleen Kattrell

The chamber was made of double thick glass of reflection mirrors, holding back the deadly contagious biological germs from the angel of death and her visiting guests. The mirror had a built-in computer screen in the corner, displaying the prisoner's picture, sound, heat, and body odors, if that particular setting was activated.

The screen exhibited a set of green and pink colored wiggling lines, monitoring her vital life signs of alive or dead. A row of metal chairs slapped the concrete wall across from the mirror for interacting with prisoner Katt, if you happened to be her defense attorney or the prosecution lawyer for the court ordered legal depositions of her upcoming murderess trial tomorrow.

A second purpose, Prison Warden Alfonso Schmidt had used the chamber and displayed prisoner Katt for both the media reporters and the photographers, since the angel of death had been caught, captured, and imprisoned for killing 8,063 souls without exposing her badass germs to the public.

Austin strutted to the middle center of the chairs, grabbing one, scooting it in front of the mirror, and sat.

His brothers grabbed a chair and surrounded Austin, sitting also.

Colorful pink, white, blue, and gray blankets plus a set of matching pillows rode on top of a king-sized bed mattress, taking up sixty percent of the tiny containment room. Hundreds of electronic records, books and hard copy records, books, magazines, and other entertainment items were scattered on top of the bed, on the floor, and inside two chairs.

The north corner held a chest of drawers, overflowing with piles of colorful summer clothes.

The south corner of the tiny room held a food table with four towers which were composed of sealed salad plates, dessert dishes, two water pitchers, cold beverages, eating utensils; pink flowered bone China plates, and pink napkins on a pink tablecloth.

Austin and Alfonso had a face-to-face talk instead of a fist-to-fist taunt, after Judge Cutter left the building about Katt's previous inhuman abusive treatment as a USA prisoner of the USA judicial court system.

The Quartet stared each other's faces and turned to see the mirror.

Katt hid underneath the blankets, probably catnapping and not expecting a visitor, this morning or tomorrow morning or ever.

Frank elbowed Austin, nodding to the mirror.

Austin exhaled with a huff of concern, slapping a button for both audio and visual appearance of the Quartet through the two-way reflection mirror, slowly standing and said into the transmitter to Katt's containment cell. "Good afternoon, Miss Kattrell. I would like to introduce myself again. I am Austin Berrington. We meet briefly a few days ago in the company of Mouse on the limestone cliff in Ruby Beach..."

The blanket shifted and wiggled out a folded body into eye view.

Her face was swollen and suntanned at the same time. Like, she had been sunbathing on the Key Biscayne sandy beach here in Miami, which was humanly impossible. Her hair was messy. Her eyes twinkled with excitement. Her suntanned arms clashed against the dull gray prison blouse. Colorful blankets hugged her lower body as Katt did not smile to Austin, seeing the other Quartet's faces too.

Austin leaned to the mirror. "Miss Kattrell, I am here with my brothers Stu Gage, Frank Mangrove, and Tom Sawyer. Tom is a brilliant criminal lawyer. We would very much like to represent you as your legal counsel at your court trial with your permission, of course. Tom, please introduce your person." Katt blinked her eyelashes, appearing cool and not moving from the comfortable bed. Austin cleared his throat. "Miss Kattrell, this is Tom. Your trial will begin in three days. That is not a lot of time to prepare for legal court. You are scheduled for numerous depositions on Saturday. Please understand my time limits. To accompany our goal, we need your permission, today immediately, right now," exhaling with a huff of worry.

Katt placed her bare feet on the messy floor and shuffled her hand over the messy hair, posing both hand in a lap, saying into the transmitter. "You tracked, trapped, and traded me, here. Your intents are honorable. Your motives are unclear. Your offer is fantasy. I do not have money. I do not trust you. I do not see the point of this conversation. Good day to you, sir..."

"The little..." Tom sneered as Frank man-pulled Tom from the sensitive microphone, before Tom's nasty words echoed into her padded containment cell.

Frank stood and cuddled Tom against the wall, softly saying into the eardrum. "Tom, calm down. She's confused and afraid. You heard her words. Tracked, trapped, and traded like a damn zoo animal." All true, the Quartet had hunted, stalked, and stole Katt from her seashore home in Ruby Beach without permission or social manners.

The billionaire brothers were acting crazy, making a complete turn about wanting to defend the angel of death in a court of law as the other citizens of the USA greatly desired a hanging by her throat from a fashioned hangman's gallows while eating a tub of buttered popcorn, watching with bull-frog eyeballs and cold black hearts on live action television.

Tom and Stu greatly wanted to witness that social event too. Austin, Frank, Gracie, Janey, and Misty felt that Katt was getting an unfair biased trial and shitty legal treatment.

Misty Marie had offered to pay any US attorney to be Kattleen's client from her personal bank account, but Frank tenderly hugged his wife, assuring that Tom would gladly accept Kattleen's murderess case without compromise and without charging Kattleen a copper penny.

Tom softly growled to Frank's face. "She's going to die in the electric chair in Tallahassee without good counsel, Frank. Looky, I can't help her, if she doesn't want my help." Tom's legal eagle mind clicked with the deadly consequences.

A poor attorney, a poor strategy, and a poor outcome like the Miami DA predicted, yesterday.

True grit life.

Frank hugged Tom, whispering. "You're not going to let that happen, Tom. You're a brilliant lawyer and a good person."

"She doesn't want us, Frank. I'm a good lawyer, but I can't convince her of my good intentions, if Katt doesn't want to listen or act. Time's running out for the both of us." Tom never desired to be her defense lawyer, since he was assisting the prosecution's office, yesterday.

Katt was the first cousin to the devil as some folks yelled on the streets of Miami, day and night.

Jane had lovingly seduced Tom into taking the murderess case after their intense and heated verbal debate this morning inside his office, inside his limo, and inside his mansion without the band of nosy male siblings. Tom wouldn't be here, acting like a defense lawyer while still pissed off at his non-biological brothers and sisters.

Jane believed that Katt's story and she was ready and willing to defend Katt's ass with or without Tom's aid, using all the Quartet lawyers on the company's payroll. Tom could go and stay on Dog Isle, the vacation hot spot for the Quartet for the duration of the murderess trial days alone and without his wife.

Jane, Misty, Gracie, Frank, and Austin felt that Katt should not be labeled and nicknamed the angel of death, because some smartass had collected a set of incriminating legal evidence, leading to the dead yellow female named Mouse as the true killer.

Jane reminded that finding the truth was ugly or beautiful and the truth had not been found and is being covered up by all the evil folks. Tom could not argue against good solid legal ethics or his smart loving wife. He would give her the Ice Belt of Pluto wrapped in pink gift paper, if she requested it. Tom pondered Jane's request for .005 seconds, taking on the murder case and defending the murderess and he planned to win only if Katt agreed.

Another hurtle to jump!

"Let Austin make that final decision. He's boss of the Quartet." Frank whispered to Tom's eardrum.

People did not understand Thomas Edison Sawyer, III. He was a very complicated and sensitive man, experiencing failure before the trial began.

So Katt had rejected his legal advice and wise guidance, but Frank believed that Tom would win the murder case if he was given the opportunity, since the boy was a genius in both law and legal court matters as the best defense attorney in the world. Katt will be free to enjoy her life without harassment from the city, the citizens, and the critics of Miami.

Frank also wanted Tom to understand the reason for a follower rather than a leader. Austin led, commanded, demanded, and decided sometimes life and death issues. Austin was born to this task for the Quartet. Frank allowed Austin the luxury of command decisions while Tom sometimes wanted to make those decisions based on mixed emotions within his heart generous or parsimonious.

"Like Austin did, when I left dinner, last night." Tom softly growled to Frank's face. Austin's ploy had gotten the Quartet here inside a padded containment cell with the angel of death. If Austin had kept his big nostrils out of a person's personal affairs and his mixed emotions checked into a side hallway closet then Tom would be back home, reading his latest science fiction adventure book.

"Shut the fuck up." Stu stood and sneered over both the hair roots on Frank and Tom, thumbing over his collar bone to the rear skull of Austin.

Austin stood and said. "Miss Kattrell, you are very accurate, precise, and correct. I cannot deny any of those acts or actions. At the time our focus was to capture and contain the angel of death. However, I believe in my heart the angel of death does exist. She or he is one of God's angels, living in heaven not on earth," nodded to Katt.

Katt blinked her eyelashes as her eardrums heard that nasty nickname which was rolling off the tongues of television reporters, prison guards, and strange visitors. She understood that she was receiving proper treatment and plenty of food items as ordered by the Quartet.

The prison guards had stopped teasing her as the television media reporters had disappeared too. And the nosy visitors had quit coming to her window, but Dr. Jace Jackson came every day, wearing his funky contamination outer space suit and expressed his desperation in seeking to cure her disease by taking blood, hair, and skin samples from her sunburned body.

Yesterday, June 22nd

Containment cell of Kattleen Kattrell

Jace ordered the disconnection of the hidden sunlamp purposefully attached to one of the overhead lights inside her box. The sunlamp had suntanned her entire body into a perky golden brown. A vicious joke or playfully ploy set up one of the many handsomely paid electricians during the pre-construction phase of her containment cell. He had rigged a tanning bulb to the light switch slowly burning her contaminated germs. Jace displayed fighting fury with the illegal discovery ordering Stu to find the evil perpetrator then beat the shit of him, giving that vocal command right in front of the prison guards. Katt giggled. So Jace worked for the Quarter and Austin was trying to help Katt, without her knowledge. Maybe Austin truly believed her. Or maybe he was trading a life for a life.

Four days ago

City of Ruby Beach

Limestone cliff and beach setting

Katt saved Austin on top of the cliff at Ruby Beach, since Tiberius would have beaten Austin senseless with the short wooden club with the hands and the feet of tied by the thick ropes. After Austin's untimely death, then Tiberius would have killed Tom in cold blood, because Tiberius talked about it all the time inside the car and inside the beach house at night when the house was quiet.

Nell and Tiberius were very evil people.

Katt weren't afraid of them. However, she couldn't directly attack Tiberius while Nell held a gun to Austin's head.

Nell would have shot him without blinking an eyelash.

Katt was the person that Nell wanted for the 150-million-dollar bounty and alive and breathing. Nell would not have wounded Katt only Austin.

Therefore, Katt saved Austin.

Present day and place

1:39 p.m.

Containment cell of Katt

So, Austin could save her, too.

Katt nodded. "I too believe Mr. Berrington that the angel of death lives in heaven, not on earth. I accept Mr. Sawyer as my attorney, but I can't pay for his services..."

"Miss Kattrell," Austin said with a smile and a nod. "The service is free of charge, so think on Tom like a gift from heaven..."

"More like hell..." Stu grunted and grinned to Katt.

Frank elbowed Gage's bicep, whispering. "Shut up, Stu."

"Dokey taught me to accept all gifts graciously with a simple thank you. Thank you very much, Mr. Berrington," her voice cracked, holding back the tears from her jumbled emotions.

Austin grinned. "You're very welcome, Miss Kattrell. Before I allow the lawyer to dictate his demands, do you require anything for your comfort more blankets, pillows, food, books, CDs?"

"No, Mr. Berrington." Katt smiled.

"Call me, Austin, please. This is Tom."

Tom moved and stood in the front of her, saying with a nod and a smile. "Hi Katt. Tom, here again. I personally thank God Almighty for your wise decision. Jace had collected the medical specimens needed for your medical tests. I was told." Katt nodded. Tom nodded. "Good. I have a list of items for tomorrow that we need to discuss like your depositions, your testimonies, your evidence and your side of the story. Don't worry. Let me do the worrying. Okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Sawyer."

"Tom. Call me, Tom. We're going to give the DA one hell of a fight with a right hook and punch their eyes both black and blue. We're going to win, Katt." Tom raises his palms, smiling and nodding as Katt giggled.

"Win Tom," Stu grinned to Katt.

"Winning team Tom and Katt..." Austin nodded with a smile to Katt also.

"Damn straight." Frank grinned with a nod to Katt.

"Just remember one thing, I am your lawyer. You cannot do, say, or act without my approval." Tom nodded with a grin.

"Do I need your approval for potty breaks, Tom?" Katt giggled with a smile.

"She's spunky." Stu chuckled to Katt.

"Sharp girl, too," Frank winked tot Katt.

"Cute remark, Katt. We've work on your attitude later." Tom chuckled. "Are you All right caged up in here, Katt?"

"How about a cat, Katt?" Frank smirked to Katt.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Frank. "No pets are allowed, Frank."

"Of course, they are only for Katt." Frank grinned. "I'll bring ya a kitten the next time that I visit. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" She nodded with a smile.

"Any questions for me, Katt?" Tom shoved Frank from the window, staring at Katt. She shook her curls. Tom said with a nod and a smile. "Excellent. I'll be back later today. Is that okay with you, Katt?" She nodded. He said. "Good girl."

"Bye, Katt." Austin smiled, back stepping from the mirror.

"Later, Katt." Stu smiled, back stepping from the mirror.

"See ya tomorrow, Katt." Frank grinned, back stepping from the mirror.

"Bye, bye." Katt waved with a smile of delight as the four brothers disappeared from the reflection mirror.

The mirror turned black again without any vocal or visual communication.

Austin turned and led out the door to the hallway as Frank took over and led to the Prep Room, entering and disposing of his used PPE equipment.

Tom ripped off his PPE gear, turning with a sour frown and a sneer to Frank. "What the fuck was that all about bringing her a shitty animal into a gawd damn germ free containment field?"

"Not here, Tom. I will clarify back inside our office." Frank slammed the trash lid shut, fingering the hallway.

2:57 p.m.

Quartet Associates headquarters

Office setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Tom rushed through the archway and occupied his chaise lounge in the wall corner, lifting up and flipping open the new science fiction glossy colored magazine.

Austin sat in his throne chair, staring at the blonde hair roots on Tom. "Did you meet with Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior, esquire, PhD, SOB?"

"New suit, Tom?" Stu stared with a frown at the blonde hair roots on Tom, since Tom was not wearing the new gray business suit from this morning's Quartet meeting.

"Rhett Butler," Tom giggled. "Yeah, I met the SOB." He was flipping to the interesting article of a new book by his favorite author Ela Barlow.

"Did you take another kitten to Kattleen, Tom?" Frank stared at Tom's hair roots.

Tom sneered, viewing the article. "Got those fuckingly gawd damn yucky sticky balls of cat hairy fur all over my new suit, this morning. Then I had to change it from home."

"Rhett Butler!?" Stu chuckled, staring at Tom's hair roots.

"A near gawd damn physical and vocal image of Rhett Butler from the Hollywood movie Gone with the Wind jumped to the forefront of my brain cells as soon as he uttered that fucking word gree...ee...tings." Tom imitated in a poor Southern accent and giggled, reading the article.

Stu laughed with a nod. "Seth does seem to portrait a funny comic book cartoon character of the Deep South."

"Hamilton also is the best damn prosecutor of all US district attorneys in this country. He wasn't selected for his good looks, dashing smile, and suave personality. This guy understands the law and gets his man, so to speak." Austin stared at Tom's hair roots.

"Know that." Tom read the magazine.

"You see the law game that they are playing, don't you?" Austin looked to see each brother. "Tom possesses a hard-nosed, tough ass, direct punch your penis ball image with the client, the jury, and the judge. His style and personality has triumphed for him, his clients, and our company, since the inception of Quartet Assholes. The DA's playing opposite of that heated persona with a kind cool soft gentleman, who can melt hearts with a smile."

Tom looked up with a smile to see Austin. "I could melt people's hearts too, if I adopted that approach," turning with a grin to Frank and Stu.

"Only if, you placed a lump of hot butter on top of the cold knife first, Tom," Stu laughed and fist-bumped with Frank.

Tom stuck and wiggled his tongue to Frank and Stu as they laughed again.

"Face it. We've developed and cultivated the tough guy image all by ourselves. We can't change our tactics now. The legal strategy won't work and will probably backfire on us." Frank said with a smile and a nod.

Austin said. "Can the DA prove cause, Tom?" Tom shook his bangs, flipping through the magazine. Berrington nodded. "There's no link between the 8,063 acts and the 8,063 victims that I can see, either. So the DA won't be able to find one or the 8,062 others, either. If it cannot be proven that the act caused the harm then a conviction cannot be sustained, then the criminal must also have the requisite malicious intent to do a criminal act or a guilty mind. That'll be their angle. Correct, Tom? Katt has a guilty mind."

Tom looked up with a goofy grin to see Austin. "About as much as my mom, being a mass murderess for beating me."

"You deserved it, Tom and maybe with some additional hand slaps to your ass for past bad adult behaviors." Stu chuckled with his brothers.

Tom frowned to Stu. "You'll pay for that remake, Stu."

Austin stood, scooting around his office desk. "What's your defense strategy, Tom?" Tom looked down and read the magazine, lounging his ass and his legs inside the chaise as Austin stood and bad breathed over Sawyer's hair roots, saying with authority. "Tell me as we interview Bruce McKee?"

3:23 p.m.

City of Coral Gables

Animal Aid Society of Miami (five miles southwest from QA office)

Laboratory setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

The cement blocks were colored in tones of bold red and dull white rough concrete with a blue colored metal entrance door. An old fashioned door set of iron gates guarded the building which displayed the name: Animal Aid Society of Miami. And no one was there to greet Tom and Austin outside on the entrance steps.

Tom opened the door, smelling puppy urine and dog shit, coughing from the stingy air to clean out his nasal passages and his tight esophagus, moving and smiling to the receptionist. "Tom Sawyer. I have an appointment with Mr. McKee at three thirty today."

"Please wait," she stood, turned and disappeared from the receptionist desk and lobby.

A male appeared in the hallway with a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of brown colored eyes and hair, wearing a red and green stained laboratory coat and a pair of red stained blue jeans, smiling an extending his handshake. Austin and Tom both shook his hand, nodding with a smile. He said. "I feel sorry for you, Mr. Sawyer. I have lots of information to share and not good. Bruce McKee. I'm director of this non-sailing showboat," he pivoted, leading Tom and Austin down a narrow hallway. "What's his name...uh...the southern guy from the Hollywood movie called Gone with the Wind," chuckling.

"Seth Hamilton." Tom said with a sour frown, moving behind Bruce.

Austin moved behind Tom through the narrow hallway, saying with a puzzled brow. "He was here. Seth called you."

Bruce stopped and spun around, saying with a nod and a smile to Tom and Austin. "I called him. I figured out what happened to my dead animals, once I saw the news on television and in the newspapers."

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, saying with a nod to Bruce. "Please show us." He shook his bangs, following Bruce down the end of an empty and smelly hallway.

They turned into an open side door, seeing sad eyeballs peeking out from their individual metal cold bars inside their caged pens which contained hundreds of animals in different stages of their lives older or young along with tiny newborns of dogs, cats, birds, two pot-belly pigs, and three reptiles.

"How many animals?" Austin scanned the animals in their imprisonment.

"We receive between twenty-five and hundred per week from all over Dade County and up from the Key West islands." Bruce moved through the prison room without looking at the animals.

"How long does it take to find good homes for these abandoned animals?" Austin scanned the cages.

"That varies, depending on the breed, the temperament, and the family, who desires to have an older animal or a young newbie." Bruce said, opening a door, entering a new room.

"I'd like to make a donation." Austin studied their sad eyeballs inside their imprisoned cages.

"We accept cash, credit cards, checks, and cashier's cash. Just give me a check, before you leave. I trust your money, Mr. Berrington." Bruce chuckled, walking and talking with billionaires, who were some of the richest people on planet Earth, stopping and pivoting to Austin and Tom and pointed to open door. "Here, we are. Please enter." He moved and led to an office desk with numerous stacked papers on the table desk with a single glass window, viewing a scene of larger penned cages for the bigger dogs. Two filing cabinets were both overstuffed and overflowed with paper folders also. "Sit here, please." Bruce cleared off the papers from two metal folding chairs inside his private office.

"You appear to need money for a few more office supplies and pieces of office equipment." Austin sat, looking around the run-down office space.

"All monies help the animals. Please forgive my self-decorated office." Bruce chuckled. "I brought items from home to save money for the Shelter. The animals need food, medical treatment, shots..." he paused. "The list and I can go on and on and on." Bruce turned and pulled four notebooks from the book shelf behind him, swinging around to see Austin and Tom, looking down and opening the page, and tapped on the paged, exhaling with a huff of worry, looking up with a sour frown to see Tom. "The count of dead animals last year was 689 souls."

Tom said with a stern face and serious tone. "Animals die all the time in transport from sickness. You're telling me an average of one hundred fifteen animals died in this facility, last year. Did you check with the head of your veterinarian staff? Is there possibly a deadly virus going around your facility, sir?"

"You are right, Mr. Sawyer. Animals die all the time for various reasons. However, that's a very large numbers of deaths for the past six months. I wasn't here, last year. I started in February. I came to the same conclusion you did. Animals are transported here with a virus or an illness. The animal is scared, upset, compromising their immune system. They do not cope well and then they die. But I went back and checked the record logs for last year, the year before, and the previous ten years. The office recorded 1,040 animals, consisting of dogs, cats, birds, and reptiles. The total of the deaths is 1,000 each year for the past nine years. This is an unexplainable and unbelievable number," he paused. "Our head veterinarian posted inside the log sheet the cause, a mysterious virus. I investigated, since I'm in charge of the office here. And I'm not going to have dying animals. The main headquarters would close us down then the animals wouldn't have a temporary home." Bruce nodded both loving animals and enjoying his job while caring for the smelly, biting, and scratching things.

Austin had received a puppy on his four-year-old birthday party, a cute present. Austin was too rough as the puppy was too insecure. When Austin got fang bit from a self-defense maneuver by the scared puppy, he felt that throbbing wound for six days on his forearm. Then Austin didn't give a damn for dogs, cats, birds, or other furry live creatures.

Bruce tapped the notebook viewing Tom. "My chief vet and I were stumped. After the news conference revealing the medical data about Kattleen Kattrell..."

Austin frowned. "This is about our client."

Bruce looked down with a nod, opening and tapping a second notebook, looked up to see Austin. "Katt worked here. She was not paid money from the Animal Aid Society for treating animals. No one gets paid. All the helpers volunteer their time, free of charge. Katt helped on the weekends every weekend for the past ten years. Her volunteer time is recorded in this old production log..."

"So what? Katt loved animals, providing the Gables community a noble service of her valuable time." Austin nodded with a smile to Bruce.

"Katt is responsible for all the 8,000 or so deaths of every dog, puppy, kitten, and cat here." Bruce said with a sour frown to Austin, tapping on the notebook.

Austin gritted his teeth while barely restraining his unlimited angry, before he punched and then bloody Bruce's bottom lip. He said with authority. "Please, explain to us. How did you figure out that un-documented assumption?"

"My chief vet sliced open one of the latest victims. The inner gut showed a yellow liver with crystals, covering the organ completely. I thought you might want to see it too." Bruce stood and scooted around his desk, moving and leading to a different archway and a different room. He opened the door, gliding into a stinky smelly laboratory, saying. "No need for surgery gowns here. You'll not be in here long. The cat is well preserved with the abdomen split open. You can see the organ clearly beneath the glass," he stopped and pointed to the glass case on the lab counter surface.

The coffin-shaped glass box held a black kitten with its body stretched on its back bone with its four legs and four paws pinned down on the white fabric. A yellowish-white liver twinkled in an array of pink, red, blue, and yellow colors from the bright overhead office lights.

Bruce said with a nod to Austin and Tom, thumbing at the liver. "So I guess that you're going to switch sides now. She's a monster killing innocent children, elderly old folks, and small animals. I hope they hang her. She doesn't deserve the needle or a gas chamber chair. She should suffer like all her victims even the small helpless animals," he exhaled with a huff of annoyance, moving to the archway, stopping inside hallway, pointed down an empty hallway which led to the entrance doors for exiting the Animal Aid Shelter. He extended his handshake to Austin and Tom.

Tom nodded, shaking and releasing Bruce's hand as Austin copied the friendly handshake.

Austin turned and led Tom down an empty and smelly hallway, moving back to the receptionist window, stopping. Tom pulled up beside Austin at the window, lifting and scratching around for his checkbook in his briefcase, and found it. He placed his checkbook on top of the receptionist counter, scribbling a number on his personal check, tearing the item from his checkbook, and handed the check to the receptionist in silence.

Austin had offered a large donation to the Animal Aid Shelter and Tom knew that Austin never carried money or his personal checkbook.

"Thank you," the receptionist accepted and looked down with a smile to see Tom's personal check.

Tom and Austin swung and moved to the door, exiting into the Miami heat as they walked and slid into the cool limousine.

Austin sat and stared out the bullet-proof window, feeling confused. "There has to be another explanation for the dead animals. There must be another medical clue that the chief veterinarian missed, Tom."

"A 1,000 animals per year, that's not a coincidence, Austin. That's a mass murder." Tom pulled out and looked down to his mobile telephone for his new texts, reading.

Austin exhaled with a huff of concern, staring out the side bullet-proof window.

The limousine traveled back to the office.

4:11 p.m.

Quartet Associates headquarters

20th floor Law Library setting

Hot temperatures and partly sunny

Inside the huge law library at the headquarters building of Quartet Associates, the Quartet and their wives were present for the big legal meeting.

Jane sat on top of the long office desk edge with Tom in front of all the QA lawyers as Stu, Gracie, Austin, Frank, and Misty listened, sitting against the wall inside an array of individual conference chairs, staring at faces of each QA lawyer.

Tom said with a smile and a nod to his legal staff. "Good morning. Thank you for coming, today. We are embarking upon a very difficult human rights case. As you all know, we are the attorneys, who will defend Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. I know that you have seen the media, newspapers, and other forms of communications. Austin, Stu, Gracie, Frank, Misty, Jane, and I believe Miss Kattrell innocent of all these crimes."

A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, yelling in his tenor timber. "Crimes against Humanity, ya forget to add." The skulls of the other QA lawyers nodded too.

Tom said with a grin and a nod. "Exactly, the great big Crimes against Humanity which we are going to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt are false, fraud, and framed," scanning each face of his smart ass lawyers, who possessed great talents and very limited disabilities.

A visible lawyer sat and shouted in her alto voice. "Good luck..."

Tom raised an arm and folded a fist, saying with a smile and a nod. "Caught it. I accept your luck and everyone else's. Thank you. Justice is supposed to be blind. In this case, justice is going to be seeing, hearing, and tasting. I cannot change that. I know each one of you have a feeling, a thought, and an emotion about our client and our case. I cannot change that, either. Some of you have been working with the firm, since the conception of Quartet Associates. Some of you are very new. The first rule of our private company is family matters, opinion matters, and skills matter. This case is going to be difficult for some of you, most of you or maybe all of you. This case is going to take precedence over all our current legal working cases. At the moment, our case work is very reasonable. Every hand, foot, eye, and mind will be needed for legal research, depositions, subpoenas, injunctions, writs, and errands. Each person is very important. I'm going to allow you to pick which areas you favor the most. First, we are here today to offer you an option, a choice or an alternative," he paused and exhaled with a huff of concern. "If anyone feels a hint of hate, revenge or resentment against our new client Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, then I would like for you to remove yourself from this case. We are offering paid leave for you to stay home on your ass and do not interfere with our legal work."

A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, saying in his tenor tone. "Ya mean fired, Tom."

Austin stood and said with authority to the QA lawyers. "No. That is..." he paused, turning with a stern face to see Tom.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Austin, since the legal arena was Tom's domain as he led, addressed, and charged all the legal questions at Quartet Associates.

Austin nodded to Tom, side stepping, and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, listening.

Tom turned with a grin and a giggle to see his legal staff, shaking his bangs. "That is not correct as the judge always spits into my face in every fucking trial. No one is fired unless you've cheated my person, embezzled my money or fucked my wife."

The QA lawyers smiled and chuckled

Jane dropped her mouth and slapped Tom's bicep, saying with embarrassment. "Thomas?"

Tom hugged Jane, giggling in her face. "Sorry, sweetheart. The pressure's hot and expanding like the south Florida heat," he kissed her lips with tenderness and love, releasing her and turned with a smile to see his legal staff, exhaling with a huff of seriousness. "In plain English, I do not want a lawyer on the Kattrell case unless you can be indifferent to the rumors, gossip, and the three-ring circus occurring outside our expensively imported French window panes," he chuckled. "I would prefer lawyers, who truly believe deep within their hearts that Miss Kattrell is innocent and desires to fight her cause. That is asking a lot of you. Therefore, I will accept indifferent," he paused. "I announce. Please, leave this room, if you have a bitter tiny tea leaf inkling of bad breath against Miss Kattrell." He watched every single face and body reaction of his loyal staff members, who were licensed attorneys, a unique breed of species on the planet Earth, especially in one city Miami.

A visible lawyer stood from the crowd, saying in his sad baritone tone. "Do I remove my possessions from my desk, Tom?"

Tom shook his bangs, saying with a smile and a nod, pointing to the archway. "You do not. Go home, Wade. Enjoy your paid vacation. I want you home rather than here." Wade passed as Tom nodded and patted his collar bone with the man's wise decision. Lawyers stood and moved one by ones and two by twos, leaving through the archway. Tom was not mad or glad and only desired the true lawyers with their true motives of help Katt fight for her life in the upcoming murderess trial.

"Tom, the winning cases always gets bonuses. Does that apply here?" A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, saying with his happy bass timber.

"Good man, always thinks with his ass, instead of his heart." Tom said with a chuckle and a grin, raising his arms. "Yeah hell. Ya got bonuses when we win the legal case," he turned with a wink to see Austin.

Austin smiled with a nod. "Large fucking bonuses..."

A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, shouting in her happy alto voice. "Money's a wonderful motivational factor over emotions any day of the week," she chuckled.

"Blood sucking leeches." Stu shook his baldness, staring with a brow of disgust at Tom's greedy sleazy lawyers.

"Damn right and proud of it." A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, yelling the Quartet quote in his baritone voice as the other lawyers nodded and chuckled too.

"Tom calls doctors, smart asses." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Stu.

"Heard that, Frank." Tom hugged on Jane, saying with a chuckle and a grin.

"Supposed too." Frank grinned.

"How long is the trial going to last, Tom?" A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, asking with her soprano timber.

Tom said with a puzzled brow. "Don't know. We had the bail hearing, so next it is the preliminary hearing."

"Heard! If she bailed, then you lose 125 mill." He paused. "So, has she bailed, yet?" A visible lawyer sat in the crowd, shouting in his tenor and clapped alone.

Tom thumbed over his collar bone to the archway, shaking his bangs. "Leave, Brett. Just leave."

"But I'm joking." Brett stood, wearing a sad frown, dragging his leathers over the wooden flooring to the archway.

"Not on my turf," Tom shook his bangs. "Enjoy your vacation, man." He scanned the faces of the remaining QA lawyers with the serious law business. "Anymore, assholes?"

Silence lingered in the room.

Tom stood, clapping and saying with a nod and a smile. "Good. We have our legal team. Back to work, folks." He assisted Jane from the desk, giving her a hug and a kiss.

The other lawyers stood and moved out of the law library.

5:05 p.m.

Office setting of Austin

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Frank strutted and sat in his favorite chair on the southwestern corner of Austin's office, placing the teacup on top of the side table, narrowing his eyelids at the tall mounds of legal papers on top of Austin's office desk. He leaned over and picked up the latest medical report on Katt and Mouse from the neatest pile for his medical review and opinion.

Stu sat in his oversized chair between the table and the wall. His hot tea steamed during his review of the police report. Stu looked up with a frown to see the hair roots on Tom. "How many lawyers are going to sit on stage with you at the trial, Tom?"

"One." Tom lifted his law notes from another pile, sitting in his chaise, and studies the hand written contents.

"One!?" Stu frowned with puzzlement. "Your office boasts...What's the number of staff attorneys, Frank?" He viewed Frank.

"Fifty-five," Frank viewed the medical report.

Austin looked up with a sour frown to Tom from reading the report. "You have fifty-five attorneys on our payroll books, Tom."

"You spend too much time in your throne room, Old Man." Tom giggled, viewing his law notes.

"Fifty-five, Tom?" Austin stared at Tom's hair roots.

Tom looked up with a grin and a nod to Austin. "Austin, we're a fucking billion-dollar conglomerate. I need all these brilliant legal minds and lengthy hands. Actually, I got some great resumes of four young interns that I want to hire during the fall session."

"Tom, you and I will discuss those interns and your fifty-five staff roster at a later date, presumably after winning the murderess trial." Austin said with authority.

Tom smiled. "Big fucking deal. Frank has forty-nine gawd damn stupid accountants that's only six less than I. And all they do as day's long is count our money. How many CPAs does it take to count our money, Mangrove?" He chuckled, lifting a finger. "One, an asshole to go to the bank," he laughed with Stu as Austin grinned.

Frank looked up with a frown to see Tom. "And my forty-nine licensed and highly educated CPAs collect, post, record, and account for your paycheck, each month. Or do you want me doing your US federal income taxes, Tom?" Stu laughed with Austin.

Tom frowned, slapping his chest. "I'm the legal business entity for Quartet Assholes, Inc. that deals with gawd damn lawsuits from many dipshit court appearances to zero fucking sentencing. Some of our shitty customers hold quite the questionable Quartet Asshole reputations..."

"...like your current client," Stu chuckled to Tom.

"Enough, pups." Austin turned with a sour frown to see Stu.

"Who from your fifty-five lawyers gets to be the lucky girl or boy to sit behind his majesty's ass in court, next week, Tom?" Frank said to Tom.

"Second chair," Austin stared at Tom.

Tom giggled. "Austin."

"Austin?" Frank dropped his mouth, turning with a puzzled brow to see Austin.

"Austin!" Stu dropped his mouth, turning with a confused brow to see Austin.

"Me!?" Austin dropped his mouth to Tom.

"Man, do I hear an echo?" Tom laughed.

"What are you conspiring, Tom?" Frank narrowed his eyelids with suspicion to Tom. There was always an interior motive with the sleazy-ass lawyer of the Quartet. The Quartet didn't make their billionaires by picking wildflowers on the rural roadside in the state of Alabama.

"Looky. The data on this murderess case is top secret, confident, and hush-hush stuff. We've pitched the lawsuits at every asshole that has tainted Katt's pretty name. We shut down the media for bad mouthing Katt's sweet personality. We've trained the prison personnel to fetch and to sit when we enter the gawd damn room. And we have Katt in a privately guarded cell for her ultimate protection and safety. So I can't allow any one, any person, or a single fuckup on this murderess case. I can't share this information with anyone. I don't trust anyone but my brothers. Therefore, I'm going to personally handle, monitor, and question each and every eyewitness. I'm thinking that having a big powerful intimidating authority figure at my side will sextuple my single creditability with the whole fucking world. Who better to pick to seat beside me than Badass Berrington?" He said with a grin, a giggle, and a nod to Austin.

Austin parted his lips shaking both his hands and his skull. "I am not a lawyer, Tom. I have never actually sat in a court room other than the moot court trial which was conducted in an academic law school setting when I was twenty-three years old."

"Know that. But you have a law degree. You'll not be quizzed about your lack of trial skills." Tom said with a grin and a nod.

Stu said with a grin and a nod to the nose profile on Austin. "If he is, then I'll send my flowers to the grave site, now." Austin and Frank turned with a sour frown to see Stu.

Tom viewed Stu. "Shut the fuck up, Stu." He viewed Austin. "I'm serious, Austin."

Austin turned with a frown to see Stu. "Is our business reputations that antagonist with the public, Stu?"

Tom raised five fingers, counting each finger. "Antagonist, hostile, unfriendly..."

"...only to our enemies." Frank grinned to Austin.

"...that we used to have." Stu said with a smirk and a nod to Austin.

"Resentful, aggressive, enmity, un-sympathic, rivalry, competitive..." Tom exhausted all his ten fingers and moved to his invisible ten toes inside his new leathers, tapping and grinning with amusement.

"Tom, are you just making up words?" Austin turned with a sour frown to see the hair roots on Tom.

"We are the planet's largest security company which includes but is not limited to death marks, death threats, and deadly enemies on an hourly basis, Austin." Stu nodded to the rear skull of Austin.

Austin watched Tom.

Arrogant, conceited, vein..." Tom tapped his leather, still counting his hidden toes with a giggle and a grin.

Frank said with a smile and a nod to the nose profile on Austin. "We clear twelve billion a year in profits. We don't have to justify our position to anyone on the little round planet called Earth, Austin."

"Jealousy..." Tom tapped on his leather, grinning.

"Everyone's and anyone's going to be jealous with our victory, if not our shiny ass plus brass." Stu chuckled and fist-bumped with Frank.

Frank smiled. "I concur with Tom's logic. He needs a powerful side kick. He'll lead the fight, but he needs not only extra ammo but a group of intercontinental ballistic missiles and stealth fighters."

"Hell. He needs a space shuttle with laser cannons." Stu said with a nod and grin to the nose profile on Austin.

Austin exhaled with a huff of concern, looking to see the faces of his life-time brothers, closest pals, and permanent business associates, and turned and stared at Tom's hair roots. "All right, I agree to ride as your side kick but no legal stuff, Tom."

Tom looked up with a giggle and a grin to see Austin, slapping his chest with both hands. "I promise. You just sit back. Enjoy the gawd damn dog and pony show during the fucking fireworks display, all of you. Let the kick-ass legal maestro do all the shitty work."

Frank rolled his eyeballs as Stu laughed. Austin wore a worried brow.

8:46 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Mr & Mrs Thomas Edison Sawyer, III

Living room setting

Humid night with bright stars and moon light

Inside the living room, Jane sat on the sofa, flipping the page of Katt's daily journal which composed her life events living in Miami, Florida until her capture at Ruby Beach, Florida.

The personal journal exhibited some interesting cartoon characters for Katt's personal hobby, a fiction novel.

Jane thought that Tom should peek-a-boo into Katt's journal, getting some fresh ideas for his work-in-progress totally stalled make-believe science fiction book.

Tom toyed with a new concept of his old novel and typed three pages then changed the story plot along with all the main characters, and then the primary geographical place. Tom had modified the time period too and changed everything again, exhaling with a huff of frustration to Jane. "Writing is hard work and calm patience. Lawyering's easier."

Jane looked up with a smile to see his skinny arms that hugged the rear of his skull.

Tom blinked his eyelids, reading the legal documents and lifted his face, grinning goofy at her, and looked down to review more of the legal documents.

No one, in their sane mind, would defend the monster of 8,063 murdered souls.

However, the USA court system required that an accused person was to be provided a free attorney.

And Jane never figured in a thousand years that Tom would be first chair on a murderess case of two centuries.

Jane was the loving devoted wife on Tom who lived a luxurious life as a Quartet babe. She had limousines, airplane jets, house servants, and bank accounts all over the world and maybe a few orbiting planets within cold black outer space that Tom hadn't revealed, since Tom's second love was a make-believe world of science fiction with many space battles, lots of flying machines, and plenty of x-ray guns along with the other nonsense fun stuff within his silly imagination.

Tom's first love was Jane thou. She was tall at five feet and nine inches with a head of curly brown colored hair with red highlights, a face of baby golden freckles and a tone of pink tinted skin that came from her great grandmother Seymour.

Jane did not possess a model's body like Misty. Her hips magically accumulated weight around her legs and her buttocks even with strenuous exercises on the second floor gym of their big mansion. However, the extra weight was easily covered by her classic cut style of knee-length skirts, long slacks, and dress business suits.

Tom never mentioned any of Jane's personal body flaws instead he complimented her brilliant active legal mind which was followed with his sweet kiss on her cheekbone.

Tom had dated the sexy bimbo girl like Austin but ended up marrying a true home-grown hard-working career-minded Florida girl.

Jane had served as a lawyer for the state of Florida government department after getting her law degree at Miami Dade University School of Law in Miami, Florida. She moved to Miami after her father's funeral from a small fishing town of Perry, Florida which was located in the panhandle of northern Florida.

Jane stared at Tom with his long pale tinted legs parked on the top of the low table and wore a pair of running short. His arms hugged numerous tablets of notebooks which were marked with colors as his sharp mind absorbed the witness testimonies, the police hard evidence, the key eye witness accounts, and other legal and medical materials that were gathered against Katt.

Once Jane heard Austin and Frank's verbal account of the medical information and the information exchange at Ruby Beach, she was convinced of Katt's innocence which had last week. But Jane needed to sway Tom to her side as they debated with hot and heated exchange of fiery intensity over Katt's innocence inside the limo, this morning.

Tom still announced boldly in tenor that he wasn't going to defend the girl in a court of law inside the great room, this morning.

Last night, during dinner with the Quartet and wives, Tom had provided some subtle hints that Kattleen might be the wrong person housed inside the containment cell and wrongly accused of killing 8,063 people, but he didn't want to stain a winning spotless legal record as an arrogant attorney.

This morning, after cuddling and complimenting Tom for hours inside their home without any success, Jane cheated and called the mother on Tom, who agreed with Jane.

Tom's dad felt the girl guilty and should be hang by her throat muscles, immediately.

Martha Sawyer did not agree, sweetly talking with her son in a private conversation on the telephone landline in the master bedroom as Jane whipped up a light breakfast. Tom emerged from the hallway without a smile, surrendering his legal mind to both the women of his heart, because he loved them deeply and respected them more.

Their personal, social, and cultural opinions absolutely counted in his heart and his mind. His women felt that Katt was innocent and needed the best damn lawyer in the universe, Tom.

Love was a wonderful ally.

This evening, Jane was assisting as a non-paid and un-seen paralegal per Tom's direct loving orders, since she was not allowed in the office, at the trial, in the limo, or near the client.

The personal stakes were too high. The body risk was too danger. And the legal case was too hot.

Jane reread all the hard copies of legal official documents and she was happy for the tree farms that produced massive amounts of wood for paper future legal documents.

The living room was covered with colored file binders, colored paper notebooks, colored ink pens, number two pencils, colored permanent markers, and colored paper clips. A stack of newly US law books sat beside the colored paper folders next to the dirty dishes between the hand weights, ten pounds.

And finally, there was a mini-basketball hoop in the middle of the room for tossing all the used wads of paper from both Jane and Tom's useless legal notes.

Jane looked down and read the page, exhaling with a puff of confusion.

Katt had volunteered at the hospital and worked in the hospital information technology department twelve days out of fourteen, earning both regular and overtime paychecks for her rent and food. Katt had visited the hospital at night the oncology nursing floor which was full of sick kids and not the sick adults.

Jane retrieved the printed autopsy of Bree's grandmother which had been provided by Austin and which was original part of the offensive strike against Katt. She reread it.

The former cancer patient died at 11:43 pm on Wednesday night.

However, Katt's work hours started at eight am to nine pm every Monday through Friday night, except on Wednesday night.

Jane scanned the journal again.

Katt had joined the chorus at her local church, singing at choir practice, every Wednesday evening. She had attended choir practice every Wednesday night and not missing an evening.

The musical fact could be verified by the music director at the church or any member of the singing church choir.

As a trained attorney, Jane had found one of Katt's alibis on every Wednesday evening for the past six years. So Jane would get one of the young bucks or does of the QA legal team assigned to talk with the music department director at the church for tomorrow. Her primary job was to eliminate the fluff of leg work for Tom and his lawyers and to determine among the flood of paper documents what needed to be investigated and then coordinated with an assigned QA legal team to accomplish that task, so Tom could focus exclusively on his defense strategy and refute all the key eye witness testimonies.

The harmonious interview of the music director would clear Katt of one non-exhumed grave with a shiny yellow crystallized liver which was Bree's grandmother and then there would be only 8,063 exhumed graves to go.

Jane exhaled with a puff of exhaustion, reaching and grabbing the autopsy report of Cliffy, who had died on Monday night at 11:30 pm of May 31st.

Katt had worked both the afternoon and night shift in the IT department, making the precious overtime paycheck to cover her living expenses.

Jane reviewed the subpoenaed payroll log from the IT Department and did not see Katt's name electronically printed on the payroll log. Jane saw an attached single hard copy paper with Katt's signed name and hand written, where she worked her productive hours for the same time period.

The Miami district attorney prosecution team and IT director Asquith were disputing that Katt only worked the approved eighty hours of productive time at her job of ten years. Asquith was both a slob of supervising and an asshole of character along with his crappy payroll record keeping skills which was convoluting the murderess case from Tom's prospective.

During the afternoon at her work job, computer technician Katt wrote out her productive and overtime working hours from her pay on a separate paper then dated and signed it, each week. Then she carried the hand written paper to Asquith for both approved and signature. Asquith had used and abused Katt for meeting the high demand of his IT staff without breaking any US Department of Labor and Wage Regulations.

So Katt didn't punch an electronic clock with her Charity Hospital badge as required by the Charity Hospital human resource policy and Katt was labeled a temporary worker and not a permanent employee of the Charity Healthcare System.

One reason, her name had slipped through the original Miami-Dade police investigation when paired with Charity Healthcare System human resource personnel.

On her first day of employment, Katt received a Charity Hospital badge and lots of privileges as a regular worker, getting a discount percentage at the hospital cafeteria for buying her food and at the hospital gift shop for purchasing her fun items like shirts, candy bars, and bubble gum. She received her regular paycheck for an eight-hour shift with holiday pay and an annual merit bonus along with any worked overtime monies. If Katt's job had ended, she would not have received an unemployment severance package of money, since she was only a temporary worker for the Charity Healthcare System.

So IT director Asquith was paired with the Miami district attorney's office and the Charity supermen and women, and all had filed multiple legal lawsuits against Katt. The numerous legal lawsuits claimed that Katt had falsified her daily and nightly productive IT computer work, using a hard copy hand written paper while secretly lounging and tanning her body golden brown in her secret beach house on the white sands of Ruby Beach, Florida.

All legal arguments pitted Katt against numerous eye witnesses, including her former IT director plus all her former co-workers, who were all afraid of the angel of death, so they verbally attacked and mentally worried that Katt could return to her old job or live back in Miami with her weird-ass medical condition, whether true or false.

Tom had sued the Charity Healthcare System for 500 million dollars after discovering a working and paid seventeen-year-old teenager Katt, instead of a required eighteen-year-old full time employee in the medical field.

The US Federal law plus the Charity Healthcare System human resource policy stated that the legal age requirement for a worker at the age of eighteen years old and not a minor of less than eighteen years old. Therefore, the Charity hospital administration had violated one of many US child labor laws. And the USA Department of Labor and the USA judicial department, and the USA IRS were investigating and auditing all of the hospitals along with their respective executive administrations, staff personnel, and thousands of employees, making Katt and the Quartet their number one shit hit enemy.

Tom personally toted and filed Katt's legal lawsuit to the Miami court house on Brickell Avenue and he was not dropping the 500-million-dollar child labor lawsuit, regarding the employment of a minor and was going win that lawsuit from Charity Healthcare System. And he was getting and giving Katt some deserved monetary back pay and overdue respect as a human being.

The act and action should teach stupid people not to mess with her pumpkin butt.

Sandy Middleton claimed in both verbal and written format that Katt had blackmailed her into renting the beach house. Sandy's attorney did not possess any type of legal binding rental contract, only a single sheet of paper. The paper showed Katt and Sandy signed and dated the third of June on the day of Thursday at the time period of 5:02 pm on a rental agreement of the beach house.

However, the lawyer was claiming felony crimes of fraud, abuse, neglect, and harassment of an elderly woman.

"She's half blind, kinda and slow speaking, sorta then partial deaf, maybe and finally completely fucking-ass stupid." Tom nodded with his personally assessment of Mrs. Sandy Middleton.

A fifty-million-dollar lawsuit had been filed in Ruby Beach, Florida against Katt for her alleged blackmail and extortion plot of Sandy, regarding Katt's illegally renting while using, abusing, and destroying the beach house property. Plus, Middleton was claiming no monetary payment from Katt as a renter of the signed legal agreement too, since Katt had paid money cash to Sandy on the third of June for the entire rental agreement time period without getting a money receipt.

Big bad mistake.

Sandy also had described Katt's physical appearance, perfectly nixing the assertion of her half-blind medical condition. The vile young girl produced a big switchblade from her big purse and was going to knife Middleton in the stomach, if Sandy didn't illegally rent Katt the beach house for her wickedly use for free.

Bullshit.

Once Tom placed Sandy on the jury's witness stand alone and without her fancy expensive attorney and Seth's cueing with his silly baseball sign language, Middleton would not recall her first name.

Justice.

The eye witness story lines were falling nicely in place for the prosecution team and their scum-bag allies who were represented by Charity Healthcare System executives and employees, the beach house owner, the ballet director, and numerous well-paid state of Florida psychiatrists. The key witnesses were willing to talk badly about Katt on the jury witness stand as Tom worked hard seeking and searching for other types of hard evidence for disproving all eyewitness testimonies while taking up his valuable tick-tock time.
Sixteen days ago

Sunday June 6th

9:09 a.m.

Funeral parade of Cliffy's body

Turkey Point Nuclear Power Plant

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Jane recalled with great sadness the morning of Cliffy's burial.

The Miami skyline was painted in baby blue with bright yellow sunshine. The happy birds were singing as the pretty flowers bloomed along an empty roadside.

And then the burnt human flesh tainted your nostrils of a vile smell, permeating the air at the Turkey Point nuclear power plant.

The Turkey Point nuclear power plant station housed a twin reactor site, sitting on a sandy parch of the 3,300-acre landscape, two miles east of Homestead, Florida. The Turkey Point nuclear power plant was next door to the Biscayne National Park which was twenty-five miles south of Miami at the southernmost edge of the Miami Dade and Monroe County lines.

The big power plant station comprised two 400-megawatt oil and natural gas-filled units along with two pressurized water reactors, serving the entire southern portion of Florida.

In the year 1974, a failure test caused three pumps to over tighten the radiation which was packed and almost ignited a nuclear disaster within the lower half of Florida. In the year 1992, Hurricane Andrew hit and damaged the water tank and the smokestack. In the year 2006, the Nuclear Commission had discovered a small hole drilled into a pressure pipe during a power-up testing, causing no damage.

In the year 2008, a Turkey Point re-start caused a widespread electricity blackout which affected 2.5 million people from the coastal town of Daytona Beach down to the metro city Miami. Ironically, the Turkey Point Nuclear Plant has its own set of problems, without any heavenly intervention.

The dead body of Cliffy had been moved by a newly painted white funeral hearse, compliments of the Quartet.

The city, county, and state US government agencies did not want the additional cost or the legal responsibility of a contaminated chemical corpse of a ten-year-old little boy.

Frank had set up and paid for the entire funeral arrangement from his personal bank account.

First, the actual cremation of the dead body had been conducted inside the solid containment silo at the Turkey Point nuclear plant site. The ancient coal iron ore furnace operated on gasoline fuel, some air oxygen, lots of hot heat, a touch of carbon dioxide, and salt water from the Atlantic Ocean. A rectangular boiler furnace was fifty feet sideways and one hundred thirty tall. The tall concrete walls were webbed with twisted steel tubes about 2.3 inches in diameter.

The nervous tenor voice of an enthusiastic nuclear plant engineer had volunteered his noble deed of burning the dead child inside the ore furnace.

The hot door sizzled at 700 degrees Fahrenheit of searing heat, red flames, and colored blue and yellow pretty mechanic lights as the flesh and bone covered dead body slowly swayed inside the crane arm and lifted up to heaven and then down into the hellish fiery boiler finance. The generator sounded like a set of musical beating timpani drum heads in a low baritone F-sharp treble clef as the steel hatch closed over the dead body. Then the massive fire ball of flames ignited to 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit with a fire tongue licking around the outside edges of a steel door oven which was burning little Cliffy.

The final residue, a burnt Cliffy was composed of little bits of white and gray of charred flesh skin and tough bone which neatly fit inside a tiny paper cup as the engineer scraped, sealed, and returned it to Austin.

Austin stood like a solid rock of faith and hope as Gracie stood and hugged his right side of his body.

Stu hugged and supported his wife.

Austin was the stoic boss of the Quartet, exhibiting a cool and unruffled leadership style.

Jane had witnessed Austin drunk, mad, vicious, and elated throughout the years of their Quartet friendship. At Cliffy's funeral, she witnessed a single teardrop, gently flowing down from his right eyeball down his right cheekbone, his jaw line, and finally fell on the cold concrete.

Frank, the hard-ass physician stood on the left of Austin, holding Austin's hand. Misty tightened her grip around Frank's waist, sobbing with tears.

Jane held Tom's limp body to her breasts. He sobbed with man-tears as she watched the somber event through two moist eyeballs, a thumbing heart, and a revengeful mind.

Tom was a very misunderstood man with a complicated and sensitive soul along with a goofy and vile personality. He was a strong man during the discovery of Cliffy, the long manhunt of Katt, and then the interrogation of all the Charity employees, but Sawyer fell apart after the Cliffy's burial into Jane's comforting arms, sobbing like a baby over an innocent child's death.

The silver limo led the white hearse to the southernmost tip of Miami near the pretty bluish-green ocean and finally to a deep pit that was twelve inches wide by twelve inches long and twelve inches deep, an open hole in the golden wet sands which stood in front of an eighty-foot palm tree.

No by-standers. No physicians. No morgue personnel. No police. No guests.

The Quartet brothers and sisters rode in Austin's limousine.

A compassion preacher from the local church rode as a lone passenger in the hearse which was driven by a QA guard, a devoted and dedicated man named Zak.

The limousine stopped.

The Quartet brothers and sisters emerged.

The hearse stopped.

Two rear doors silently glide shut.

Austin moved and grabbed the cup from the open casket, slowly turning and moving to a shallow hole which would disintegrate within milliseconds when the high ocean tide invaded the natural sandy landscape. He squatted and sat the cup in the hole, standing and bowing his head in silence prayer.

The Quartet and their wives surrounded Austin, bowing a chin too.

The preacher moved and stood over the shallow hole with the tiny cup and silently prayed over the ashes and then ended the funeral service.

Done.

Cliffy was buried at the edge of South Florida with beauty as ordered by a legal decree from the State of Florida.

The legal decree specified the biological hazard physical location for a tiny cup of the burned and buried gray ashes of Clifford Milton Burton, the third.

The unused nuclear power plant grounds were catalogued in the state of Florida legal document as a natural wildlife preserve.

This particular beauty spot also helped repopulate the American crocodile which had been re-classified from endangered to threaten by man per the US Federal Government.

A crocodile was a slimy wet creature that waited in the hidden swampy waters of Everglades as it patiently sat for its arriving prey then snapped and locked its food shut and tight with two strong jaws for a kill like a soulless lawyer named Tom.

Revenge.

Present day and place

11:11 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home on Tom and Jane

Living room setting

Jane reviewed the autopsy for a fifth time.

Cliffy died on a Monday night. Bree's Grandmother passed to heaven on a Wednesday night, but both died around the same time frame.

Interesting clue.

Jane shuffled through her neat stack of papers, finding the correct folder, containing three months of the Charity Kendall Hospital volunteer logs. The log required an individual's hand signature while visiting a sick body on each nursing floor.

Another big bad plop of shitty hard core criminal evidence was against Katt, since she had signed the dotted line each and every time that she visited the sick and dying kids on the oncology ward.

However, the log didn't show the visited area of the hospital only a signature name of the volunteer. The Charity security and the police department had documented, matched, and verified Katt's neat hand signature with each and every unexplained medical mystery death with a yellow liver.

Bad stuff.

Katt was too honest and always followed the rules too much.

Jane wished that Katt had missed one or two nights, providing suspicion about her murdering all 8,063 souls from 8,063 exhumed graves.

Jane believed in her heart Mouse girl's verbal confession to Austin. She murdered Austin's godson in cold blood that night at the hospital.

The prosecution believed that Mouse-girl was an insane bounty hunter, who was trying to capture the angel of death for the 150-million-dollar bounty from the Quartet and became caught up and died from Katt's revenge.

Jane studied each time of death from the autopsy reports, noting a common time frame reference around late night. The common time frame reference on each exhumed grave from the death list and their associated death time all occurred within the time range.

Bingo.

Jane rattled the autopsy reports, looking up with a frown to see Tom. "Something's not quite right here. Cliffy was killed on Monday evening late, very late into the night. This payroll report showed that Katt worked on Sunday morning, afternoon, and early evening Monday all day until evening but not at a night shift. Her time sheet clearly recorded that Katt clocked in at five am and then clocked out at seven pm."

Tom viewed his notes. "She worked twelve to fourteen hours per shift in the IT department. That son of a bitch worked Katt to death paying her only ten dollars per hour." He looked up with a smile and a nod to see Jane. "I'm going to win that first lawsuit against the Charity supermen and women for hiring and abusing a minor, since we found out she was only seventeen years old her first day of employment at Charity Healthcare System."

"Tom sweetheart, you're missing my point. She wasn't in the hospital during these hours. Cliffy died at 10:08 p.m. Where was Katt at that time?"

"Told me in bed asleep."

"This is her day and night production log, following a demanding routine to keep herself working for long periods of time at Charity which also corresponds completely to the legal payroll records at Charity Kendall Hospital."

"Charity is claiming a set of false time sheets. Remember? This is our second lawsuit, Jane sweetheart," he looked down to his notes.

"I remember but..."

"Son of bitch Jefferson, he'll be my first subpoenaed witness in front of Cutter," he growled, viewing his notes.

"That's good but..."

"Our third legal entanglement, Sandy is supporting the claim that Katt was living in Ruby Beach, instead of working her lowly ten dollar-per-hour job. I'll get that bitch too," he sneered, viewing his notes.

"So who killed Cliffy and the other people on the nursing floor that night in Charity?"

Tom looked with a smile to see Jane again. "Mystery's solved. Mouse girl did it with...with...with something, sweetheart."

"With what, Tom?" Jane frowned.

"Mouse girl did it. I believe it but can't confirm or prove it, but I will, somehow, someway, somewhere..."

"Cliffy's death, and, maybe, Bree's grandmother is checked off the murder list. Tom, Katt has to testify. This payroll fact is her defensive point. She wasn't working that night at the Hospital." Jane rattled the paper with a nod.

He smiled with love. "Jane sweetheart, I can't. Hamilton would upset and confuse her. That's what he's paid to do. He does it very well, sweetheart. Katt is innocent. We all know that. So all these diminutive details that you find I can use to sabotage his ass. That's one. Keep looking for more, sweetheart." Jane looked down to the paper. Tom placed his papers on the low table, standing and stretching his limbs, smiling at her. "Bedtime, sweetheart." He moved to her, kissing her forehead. "Let's fuck. Want a good rest before tomorrow's depo."

"I found something else, very fascinating." Jane looked up with a smile to see Tom.

Tom giggled. "What's fascinating Mr. non-spock?"

She looked down with a stern face and pointed the paper. "The times of all the dead people seem to be placed in a common orientation, very late evening right before midnight. The grandmother died at 11:43 pm. I scanned the list of death times and found that all of them started from 10:01 pm and ended at 11:59 pm, before a new day."

"A new day?" Tom looked down with a sour frown, viewing her paper.

"Is that significant, sweetheart?"

"Maybe!? So the 8,063 died later in the evening, before a new day."

"All 8,062..."

"I missed that." Tom parted his lips, viewing the paper.

"You mean slick southern Seth missed that." Jane smiled.

Tom chuckled. "Say that three times really fast, sweetheart."

"Tom, you know what I mean." Jane looked up with a sour frown.

Tom shook his bangs, saying with seriousness. "Looky. He didn't. That's the basis for the labor and wage lawsuit against Katt. She had doctored all her work production time sheets, sucking more money out of the IT department's budget."

"One, she didn't." Jane rattled the paper. "Two, this has nothing to do with Katt's paycheck or pay records."

"She did sign her name on the visitor hospital log which set up the criminal evidence against her as the only common denominator that leads to the trail of dead people from the same medical ward."

"So Seth is postulating that Katt faked all the times, for what purpose?"

"Money..."

"And she killed all the people during her off hours of work, for what purpose?"

"Fun."

"This is one mentally sick murder trial case or one stupid-ass prosecuting strategy point of both money and fun." Jane frowned.

Tom chuckled. "I bet that Frank can provide ya with many examples of historical documentation facts, regarding a combination of money and murder for purely entertainment purposes."

"Forget it. I'm not a history buff."

"You're a sci-fi fan like me." Tom kissed her lips and surface with a stern face. "Let's cross-check every volunteer name and date with the dates and dead times of the exhumed graves. We might be staring at the killer on these very dusty printouts."

"Do you think the real killer flaunted all of his feats?"

Tom grunted, "Yeah. On a single sheet of paper, right in front of my face for fun," he turned to see the numerous stacks of papers, lying over the furniture and the floor, exhaling with a huff of concern.

"Long search, poor outcome." Jane exhaled with a puff of worry, viewing the same stacks of papers around their house too.

He turned with a smile and a nod to see Jane. "At this point, all leads, clues, hints, and prizes from the sugary cereal box will be researched and investigated. That's your department, lady." He kissed her lips.
Thursday June 24th

7:06 a.m.

City of Coral Gables

Limousine ride west Miracle Mile

Hot temperatures with bright

The Quartet stomped from the office tower of Quartet Associates to the Austin's parked limousine on the city street, except for Tom. He stood on his new leathers, scanning the busy city street, seeing Austin's silver limo and exhaled with a huff of frustration, parking his hand on his new belt, holding his new briefcase. "Where's my limo?"

"Get into the car, Tom." Austin back stepped and shoved Tom to the parked limousine.

"Where's my driver?" Tom slowly moved to the limousine, scanning the busy city street for his golden tinted limousine.

"Get into the car, Tom." Frank back stepped and shoved Tom to the open door.

"Where's my driver and my golden limo?" Tom stopped and stood, scanning the city street.

"Get into the car, Tom." Stu cuddled and moved Tom inside the limousine.

Tom slid over the cool leather, parking his ass and his new briefcase on the seat, looking with a sour frown to Austin. "Ya'll don't tell me nothing," exhaling with a huff of annoyance.

"Good morning, brothers." Jace slid into the open door, sitting next to Frank, smiling at Tom. "A big thank you for transporting the kitten to Katt, yesterday, Tom."

"Whatever." Tom raised his arm, turning with a frown to stare out the bullet proof side window.

The door closed.

The limousine drove down a busy street with traffic and transports that were carrying other people to work or school or play.

Stu snickered. "Ya sound like Katt," then he imitated in a poor southern accent. "Ya'll are very nice folks," he laughed with Frank and Jace. Austin grinned.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom exhaled, viewing the people, the places, and the potted flower plants on the city street of Miracle Mile, turning with a frown to see Jace. "Why's Jace inside the limo? Ain't he supposed to be conducting evil madman scientist tests inside our fifty-million-dollar laboratory on Katt's body parts?"

Frank parted his lips. "How did you uncover that financial figure?"

Tom turned with a smirk to see the bullet proof side window.

Austin looked at the rear skull on Tom. "Tom is correct, as always."

Stu chuckled, typing on his laptop. "Tom is an asshole, as always."

Jace said with a nod and a smile to the brothers. "I have developed a clinical piece of equipment that isolates, appraises, and tracks trillions of germs, bacterium, and viruses within a human body. Since day one of her containment, I have been acquiring her blood, fluid, hair, nail, and skin samples, creating my Katt bio-repository. I conducted my first test last night with Katt's genetic makeup. I've never seen this type of biological footprint." Jace rattled the paper and handed to Frank.

"Did ya measure her face power too, Jace? Her makeup face power?" Tom turned with a giggle and a grin to Jace, gently touching his face. "Get it? A girl's makeup face power?" He touched his face with both his hands, laughing with Stu. Austin stared at Tom. Jace frowned at Tom.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank read the report.

"Just asking? Since I'm trying to win this case and not blot my spotless legal record." Tom turned with a grin and a giggle to see the bullet proof side window, watching the buildings and the people.

"Her physical makeup is normal for a girl of twenty-seven years old." Frank read the paper.

"I've noticed." Austin smirked.

"What did ya say there, Austin?" Stu looked up from his laptop with a smirk to see Austin.

"From various pieced-together lab tests and scattered skin experiments, I have extracted and concluded that Katt has a solo entrapped bile ion inside her biological system." Jace said.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Jace and Austin. "What the fuck does that mean? Hell. Don't know. Don't care. I wanna go home let the Lab Coats figure this out. This is medical turf shit, Austin. I need to be..."

Jace pointed to the paper in Frank's hands, saying with a stern face and a nod to Tom. "This heady stuff is a real true life scientific medical journal reading material like Einstein's Quantum Theory. For the most part, Katt's biologically ion is an exotic amalgam of a mineral, so I only have to figure out and locate the earth mineral."

Austin exhaled with a huff of depression. The special project liver research from Jace was taking a lot longer than original predicted with Katt's murder trial coming up very soon. The Lab Coats, one of Tom's creative endearments, continued to pick up one single straw in the sky high hay stack. Austin had poured tons of money into solving Katt's medical condition without any hard core medical miracle. He turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Jace.

Tom said with a groan, turning and cupping both hands in his face, whining with pity. "I figured it out too, ya'll. I'm going to lose my first fuckingly legal case ever in America's history."

"Shut up, Tom." Stu typed on the laptop, listening.

"All the various bilirubin levels can be measured from her blood. I have been pricking her finger three times per day in the morning, at lunchtime and then late evening before you finally visited Katt both trapped and mistreated inside the paid and built Quartet containment cell." Jace smirked.

Tom said with a nod and a smile to Stu. "That was one hell of a day for Cutter? Us? Katt? Remember, Stu?" Stu nodded and typed, listening.

Frank viewed the paper. "Shut up, Tom."

Jace lifted and opened his worn briefcase, searching for something. "I've calculated the total and direct bilirubin..."

Frank looked up with a frown and rattled the paper near Jace's cheekbone. "Where's the numbers? They aren't listed here."

"Hold your horses, son." Jace sneered as Austin smirked at his brother and his friend.

Thirteen years ago

City of Miami

Miami-Dade University

Fraternal House setting

Jace was two biological years younger than the Band of Brothers.

On his first day of college, Jace was a sixteen-year-old tall skinny African-American teen as an incoming freshman that had received both an academic and a sports scholarship at the Miami-Dade University, trying to pledge into the fraternal house with Austin's approval.

The Quartet was only sophomore students at the House, but their biological fathers and their grandfathers carried big alumni names with bigger bucks.

Money rules. Fools lose.

Austin conversed for fifteen minutes with Jace, enjoying the genius smarts, the studious background, the social manners, and the wickedly bizarre sense of humor coupled with the desirous ambition of success. Jace currently worked as a low paying waiter for a local diner around the street corner of the University, aiding his parents with payment his college tuition and books.

Thirty minutes later

City of Coral Gables

Home of Mr and Mrs Austin Bartholomew Berrington, III

Living room

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Austin left the Frat House, driving his sports car to visit with his dad, tattling and talking about his new friend Jace.

Austin was the leader of the Quartet, working with his brothers on their future enterprise named Quartet Associates with their fathers' approval, support, and money.

Mangrove, Junior was the primary medical physician for both the Quartet business members and the family members, so his son Frank Mangrove, the third had planned the same foot path for his personal career.

However, Austin wanted Frank as the CFO of the new business venture Quartet Associates and not the Quartet family physician. The alternate family physician for the young and wild Band of Brothers was an older gentleman, who was about to retire, and his married children were not advancing into the medical field as a group of physicians either.

Therefore, Austin was searching for a physician to work for an international security business, the hot topic of the boys' heart. They needed a dedicated, devoted, determined, and damn smart ass physician, who could travel as a 'doc on the run' into foreign countries within a twenty-four-hour day and night.

And Jace possessed all that the drive, the ambition, the talent, and the personality for all of Austin's future plans for his brothers and his company.

Berrington, the third was always open to his only child's new ideas, novice concepts, and old problems, regarding the future prospect of his son's business empire, since Daddy Berrington had instilled that strong concept into Austin's head as a young lad.

Austin was the young leader of his brothers, informing his dad that Jace would be the future medical physician for the Quartet. So Daddy Berrington smiled and immediately arranged a shelter of new lodgings, a packet of food allowances, a car for private transportation, a money bank account, and the free college tuition and textbooks all for Jace to pursue any field of medical science, including biology, chemistry, genetics, and nature sciences while becoming the best damn physician on planet Earth.

Jace accepted the secret blessing and massive financial fellowships without any questions. He studied all hours of the day and night and graduated as the top dog at the Miami-Dade University School of Medicine with Frank.

Then Austin personally offered the newly licensed physician to join the newly established business company Quartet Associates, allowing Jace to run and to operate his own private medical research company and physician practice as a side business to help save people's lives.

Present day and place

7:38 a.m.

Limousine ride northwest Highway 112

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Jace was one of the world's most unprecedented clinical and academic scientists in the healthcare field, pulling out and reading the paper to Frank. "TBIL is 7.8 mg/dL."

"No shit. She should be dead." Frank parted his lips to Jace.

"Direct bilirubin is 5.7 mg/dL." Jace read the paper.

"Impossible." Frank shook his skull.

"Explain your funky code, medical smart asses." Tom turned with a sour frown to Jace and Frank.

Frank said. "Bilirubin is an excretion product..."

"...like shit." Tom laughed with Stu as Austin grinned.

"Close enough analogy, Tom." Jace chuckled.

7:40 a.m.

City of Miami Springs (14 miles northwest from Coral Gables)

Secret laboratory setting

The limousine slowed and stopped at the curb side. The brothers exited into the bright sunlight, entering the building to the secret Quartet laboratory.

Jace opened the door, leading down an empty hallway with Frank, pointing to his papers. "The number of 5.7 is high, very high, abnormally high. The normal number range is between 0.3 and 1.9 for an average human. Normally, if these figures are off the chart, then the cause is usually listed as hemolysis or an increase in red blood cells."

Tom marched behind Jace and Frank with Stu and Austin paired together in the rear.

"Or it's Gilbert's syndrome, a genetic disorder of the bilirubin metabolism, resulting in a case of mild jaundice. Gilbert's syndrome affects about five percent of the population and treated by drugs." Frank said.

"She takes drugs. That's it. I quit." Tom stopped, waving his arms side to side, slapping down to his new trousers, and swung to face the door. Stu shoved Tom backwards, shaking his baldness. Tom exhaled and spun around, slowly moving to the door of the laboratory with Austin and Stu following behind.

Frank walked beside Jace, viewing the paper. "Shut up, Tom."

Jace said. "Or any form of hepatitis A, B, C..."

"D, E, F to Z and done." He stopped and raised his arms with a giggle and a grin. Stu shoved Tom forward again. Tom slowly marched behind Frank and Jace.

Jace said. "Basically, the human body does not control the bilirubin level. The level reflects a balance between production and excretion. Therefore, no normal level truly exists. Bilirubin is simply broken down by light."

"You pricked her finger, smearing it into a serum tube and then exposed it the bright hot overhead lights inside her containment cell which caused Kattleen's skin and liver to explode into zillions of tiny molecules." Frank stopped, looking at the paper and up with a stern face to see Jace. "Jace, these numbers could be even higher."

"I've got my own fucking ass work to do. Don't wanna play with your damn chemistry set, Jace. I'm not a Lab Coat. I'm a lawyer. Austin!?" Tom pivoted around, walking backwards, facing Austin. He parks both his hands on his hips.

Jace stopped and opened the single door to the laboratory, moving inside with Frank.

Austin shook his skull, shoving Tom into the cold temperature monitored sterile laboratory.

Jace strolled to his newest experiment on top of the counter. "Come over here, Frank. Look at this..." He halted, dropping his mouth. "My gawd." He looked inside the pet carrier.

The baby kitten stared down to the floor like asleep as its pink tongue hung out from its fangs and without an eye blink or a body movement.

"What's that!?" Tom strolled and stopped beside Jace, pointing the pet carrier.

Jace leaned to the cage and not touching anything, narrowing his eyelids. "Shit. The cat's dead."

"Holy crap." Frank dropped his mouth, staring at kitten. The feline rested sideway with its pink tongue exposed and not breathing. Then he remembered that Tom had delivered this kitten to Kattleen yesterday afternoon during visitation into the prison. Frank whispered. "Shit."

"Flee, now." Jace stood, back stepping from the cage, wearing a face of fright, thumbing the entrance door.

They turned and rushed out the room, allowing the door to shut.

Jace shoved Tom from the wall panel and slammed the evacuation button, sounding with a hiss, releasing the contaminated air inside the laboratory, and back stepped and moved, and looked through the emergency window inside the interior of the laboratory.

The Quartet huddled in the middle of an empty hallway, scanning each other's distorted and frightened face.

"What's going on here, Jace?" Tom said with a worried brow, dancing side to side with nervousness in the huddle.

"Airing out the lab from the germs." Jace stared into the window at the interior of the laboratory.

"The germs will contaminate the city, Jace." Tom jabbed a manicured finger at the closed door, jumping up and down in panic mode, waving his other arm. "I'm going to die."

"No, Tom." Frank tried to catch Tom's waving arms.

"We'll all die." Tom continued to jab a finger at the door, wildly dancing side to side with fear.

"No, Tom." Jace looked through the window.

"You killed us, Jace." Tom pointed to the door as Stu caught and cuddled Sawyer between his chest and his arms. Tom struggled, kicking and screaming. "Let me go. Let me go. I'm escaping from death and destruction. I'm going to die now or later tonight or right after my delicious dinner. When am I going to die, Jace?" He exhaled with a huff of fear, looking down to the floor. "I love Jane so much. I gotta tell Jane that I love her. O gawd. I forgot to tell Jane that I loved her, this morning. I forgot to give Jane my kiss of love, this morning. I will die without giving my love to Jane, my sweetheart..."

"Shut the fuck up, Tom." Stu whispered into Tom's ear.

"Stu." Austin said with slight nervousness. The emergency situation was scary, but it was under Jace's mental and medical control.

Stu hugged Tom in an arm lock, keeping the turd from annoying the shit out of them along with interfering with Jace's concentration of the medical emergency. Stu whispered into Tom's ear. "Calm down and listen to the Old Man."

Jace slid the window shut and slammed the wall panel closed as he was satisfied with the visual naked eyeball inspection. "Sunlight kills all germs and bacteria. We're safe." Jace opened another wall panel, searching with his hands.

"We've been exposed to radiation and toxic poisons in the breathing air. We'll all die painfully and sufferingly with oozing bloody body parts and vomiting shit from our asses, because Jace hit that great big red button." Tom inhaled a breath, kicking his legs, shouting and struggling inside Stu's arms. "Lemme go. Lemme go. I wanna give my wife a good bye hug, a good bye kiss, a see ya'll in heaven signal. I wanna escape from here, spending my last hours of my beautiful life with his wife Jane."

Austin leaned to the eardrum on Tom, pressing his finger to Sawyer's cheekbone for attention. Tom exhaled with a huff of fear, slapping away the nasty finger pad of Berrington. Austin growled into Tom's eyebrows. "Shut the fuck up. Or I'll beat the shit from your asshole, Tom."

Sawyer exhaled with a huff of fright from Austin and fear of death from Jace, looking down with a sad pout to the floor and still cuddled inside Stu's arms.

Jace swung around from the wall and moved with a smile to the Quartet, toting an instrument, stopping in front of Austin first, pointing the instrument at the chest of Austin. "I'm running the bio/chem radiation counter devise over each man and then chicken shit Tom," he read the instrument, side stepping and stopping in front of each brother, seeing the results. "Negative. Negative. Negative." He stopped and ran the devise over Tom, looking up with a smile and a nod to Sawyer. "Negative. I'm afraid you'll live for another day, Tom," he chuckled with Stu, Frank, and Austin.

"That's not funny, asshole doctor." Tom frowned and struggled side to side inside Stu's arms.

Stu used his hand performing a throat choke on Tom's neck, saying with a nasty sneer. "Calm down, Tom. Use your ears for hearing and your brain for thinking. Jace's the man. We're safe."

Jace exhaled with a huff of concern, saying with a nod to each brother. "One step at a time. First, we are safe, Tom. Second, we need to get back into the lab and exam the animal."

"No." Tom raised his hands, hitting Stu's face. Stu growled. Sawyer yelled, kicking his legs. "Leave. Go home. Board my doors and windows. Let me go, Gage..."

Austin moved and slid in front on Tom, saying with a stern face and a nod. "Yes. We are, Tom. We are all going into the laboratory, together. We all are going to view the results, together. You're the lawyer on this murderess case, Tom." He swung around, marching to the door.

Tom wiggled between Stu's arms. "No." Then he kicked his legs.

Stu tightened his hand choke around Tom's throat as Sawyer quit moving. Gage growled into Tom's eardrum. "Simon saids walk Thomas," he released and shoved Tom to the closed lab door.

Tom gagged and coughed, swung around, rubbing his sore throat, jabbing a manicured finger into the nose bridge of Gage. "Fff..."

"Wait. Change into the space suits." Jace swung around with a chuckle and a grin to the Quartet, thumbing over his collar bone down an empty hallway.

Stu reached for Tom again as Tom back stepped, swinging around with a happy face and a giggle to Jace. "Space suites? What space suits, Jace?"

Frank cleared his throat for attention as all eyeballs turned to him. He said with a smile and a nod to his brothers. "I took the liberty of ordering a set of official NASA oxygen containment suits, in case," he turned and followed Jace down the hallway.

Tom moved and pulled up beside Frank, saying with a grin and a giggle to the nose profile on Frank. "Really? Ya got us real and really astronaut training outer space ship suits," he skipped with happiness through a red door which was marked with the words: Decontamination Room.

"Real and origin built only for us." Frank grinned, following behind Jace into the tiny room.

"How much?" Austin said, following behind Frank and Tom.

"You don't want to know." Frank said, moving to the cubby hole with his name and his personalized outer space suit.

Jace held the door, ordering. "Forget the price tag. Change your clothes. We have to work to do now."

The door closed.

Jace moved into the red painted windowless room, stopping and standing in front of his cubby hole, touching and pulling the space suit gear over his clothing.

The Quartet changed into a space suit too.

7:45 a.m.

Secret laboratory setting

They slowly walked on a pair of oversized astronaut boots from the decontamination room through a side door and into a sealed up laboratory room, sucking a tank of vacuumed air, inhaling and exhaling the mixed oxygen within the space suit.

"So cool." Tom said via the microphone inside his space suit, touching the laboratory counter with his oversized glove.

"Tom, don't talk so much. You'll waste your oxygen tank then you'll have to leave the lab." Frank grinned inside his visual space helmet, watching Tom's oversized helmet bounce up and down in silence agreement.

"Sci-fi nut." Stu said via the microphone inside his space shut, watching Tom.

Sawyer waddled around the laboratory, touching everything with his gloved hands.

"Quiet. Conserve air." Frank gently punched Stu's air tank.

Jace waddled and shuffled to the pet carrier, stopping and opening the cage door, and removed the dead kitten, pinning its limbs down on a clay tray. He selected a sterile surgery scalpel, cutting open the abdomen.

The Quartet stopped and gathered around Jace to see the pathology of the dead kitten.

"Holy fucking shit." Tom said via the microphone in his space suit.

"Shit fire." Frank said via the microphone in his space suit.

"Damn it to hell." Austin said via the microphone in his space suit.

"Hell, fire and brimstone." Stu said via the microphone in his space suit.

All eyeballs saw a yellow crystallized coated liver that shined like a full moon between the dark guts of the dead kitten.

Jace gently scraped three crystals on a glass slide and carried it to an electronic microscope as the Quartet watched and anticipated. He slowly adjusted the knobs on the microphone with his gloved hand, looking through the lens, exhaling with a huff of concern. "I have seen this before. It is ionized bonded crystals of bilirubin."

"Did the kitten's bilirubin heat before hardening?" Frank stared at the back spine on Jace.

Jace looked through the lens. "I would say a positive possibility even without the lab test."

"Now what?" Stu stared at the dead kitten.

"We regroup." Austin stared at the dead kitten.

"Shit. We quit now." Tom frowned, slowly pivoting and moving back into the decontamination room.

9:39 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The double door slammed one at a time against a pink wall with two separate booms.

"Shit. Bullshit. Horseshit." Tom moved inside the room, walking to the beverage bar, tossing his jacket over the bar stool. "I need a drink," he stood, pulling the whiskey bottle from the cabinet and a small tumbler from the bottom cabinet and poured the liquid in the glass without any ice cubes. Then he lifted it to his lips and held his breathe, downing the entire contents in two gulps, and poured a second tumbler of bourbon, lifting it to lips and downed it again without breathing. He wiped his wet whiskey lips on his sleeve and drops the tumbler on the counter, lifting the bottle and pouring a third tumbler of bourbon.

Stu moved and snatched both the whiskey bottle and the used tumbler from Tom, saying with a worried brow. "Enough, Tom. Calm down." He swung around and moved to the kitchen for hiding the items.

Tom dropped his skull into both his palms, viewing the wet counter from the whiskey splatters. "Gawd, she did it. She's guilty. She's the murderess."

"This secret does not go beyond this room." Austin stood in the middle of the room, looking at each worried face.

Stu returned and moved to the sofa, shaking his baldness. "I don't keep secrets from my wife."

Austin turned with a stern face to see Gage. "Beyond this room, the five of us. Stu?"

"Agreed." Stu exhaled with a huff of concern, sitting on the sofa.

"Frank?" Austin turned with a stern face to see Mangrove.

"Agreed." Frank sat an ass on the opposite side of Stu, nodding.

Austin turned with a stern face to see Jackson. "Jace?"

"Agreed." Jace sat in a chair and viewed his medical notes, trying to figure out puzzled problem of Katt's prognosis.

"Tom?" Austin turned with a stern face to see Sawyer.

Tom held his face with his palms, swaying side to side, leaning his torso over the bar counter, and said. "She's a murderess..."

"Tom?" Austin sneered.

"Okay." Tom meekly said and not moving.

"Tom!" Austin growled.

"Agreed." Tom meekly said and not moving.

"The blood pact." Austin looked with a nod to each brother and he trusted Jace from exposing the truth, since Jace had been trying to save her life from her disease and her death in the Tallahassee gas chamber.

"We're hiding a cold-blooded serial killing mass murderers." Tom stood with a sneer and a sour frown to see the nose profile on Austin, jabbing a manicured finger at Berrington too.

"Tom, you call some of our clients, the sleaziest assholes in the world and yet, you defend them." Austin frowned to Sawyer.

Tom exhaled and panted with fear and worry, inhaling a fresh breath, shaking both his hands and his bangs. "They live in foreign countries. Europeans. Asians. Saudias. They kill each other's family members. Who the shit cares? The family's corrupt. The city's corrupt. The government's corrupt. The military's corrupt. Just as long as the corruption stays in the family, it does affect us here in the USA. And we collect our money fees. Who gives a fucking rat's ass, Austin? Kattrell killed 8,000 people, USA citizens. She wasn't even kin to them."

"Could be?" Frank turned with a nod and a grin to see Tom.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank." Tom frowned to Frank.

"You're wrong, Tom." Jace viewed his medical notes, shaking his skull.

"I think you need glasses, Jace. Didn't you see the yellow liver of the kitten?" Stu frowned with sadness with this difficult, delicate, and damn ugly situation that the Quartet had started.

"I did." Jace looked up with a frown to see Stu, exhaling with a huff of worry. "Katt did not. She is not a killer. She does not know what she is doing since..."

Tom jabbed a manicured finger to Jace and Austin and his chest with a nod. "Yes. She does too. It is all an act with a sweet demeanor and a southern accent, ya'll."

"I disagree, Tom." Frank exhaled with a huff of concern, viewing Sawyer.

Jace exhaled with a huff of concern, raising his palm. "Let me rephrase. Her body is healthy based on all my medical knowledge and medical experience..." he paused. "She has a chemical imbalance."

"How do you figure, Jace?" Stu said with a confused brow to Jace.

Jace raised each finger. "One, she lives. Two, she can store a large quantity of toxin inside her body and still lives. Three, she can pass the poison onto other biological life forms and still lives. She's mysterious medical miracle."

"She's a freak of nature. I'm defending a freak of nature." Tom dumped his skull in both his palms again, swaying side to side too.

Frank nodded and viewed to Jace. "Chemical imbalance? That's an interesting working theory?"

"Can you prove that working theory in a court of law, Jace?" Austin turned with a smirk to see Jace.

"I don't know." Jace exhaled with a huff of worry, shaking his skull.

Tom did not lift his face, whining. "I'm going to get disbarred. I'm going to lose my legal license. Jace and Frank are going to lose their medical licenses. I'm going to lose my job. I'm going to lose my home, my wife, and my family. I'm going to be poor. I'm going to starve. I'm going to be penniless and homeless. I..."

Frank turned with a grin to see the hair roots on Tom. "Tom, the only way you will be penniless is if you withdraw all your monies from the numerous banks that I have stashed your cash inside and then toss all the monies from your thirty third office suite onto Miracle Mile," chuckles with the others.

"Really?" Tom looked up with a grin to see Frank.

"Really!" Frank nodded with a smile to Tom.

"Sit down, Tom." Austin pointed to an empty chair.

"I need something. I need a drink." Tom scooted around the bar and moved to the kitchen. "What soda color has the most caffeine? Dark or light?"

"Well the argument is for light, but I vote for a dark soda." Stu chuckled.

Tom entered and yelled from the kitchen. "You're no help, Stu. I'll figure it out." He opened and slammed the food cabinets and silence.

Tom paced to the room with a six pack of hot dark sodas in a right hand and a six pack of hot light sodas in a left hand, sitting an ass next to Stu, and jerked a single can of hot dark soda out of the plastic ring, gently tapping the metal top, yanking the tab with a swish. Tom downed the hot sugary substance between his lips without breathing.

Stu chuckled as Austin grinned. Jace stared.

"Tom, you don't need more caffeine. You're hyped All right. That's a stimulant. Ya need a relaxer." Frank turned with a sour frown to see Tom, shaking his skull. Sawyer was acting like a crazy person, who might need the services of a licensed and bonded Charity South Miami rehabilitation ward.

"Metamucil." Stu laughed.

Frank frowned to Stu. "Not a laxative, asshole! A decelerator?"

"I need a shot in the arm to survive this damn devastation." Tom tossed an empty soda aluminum can down onto the hard floor, yanking and tapping on the top of a third can of soda, and opened it, gulping it down his throat, spilling the contents over his shirt and the sofa.

"You need something to calm your nerves, Thomas." Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance, watching Tom.

"Drugs?" Stu grinned, watching Tom.

"No." Frank watched Tom.

"Alcohol?" Stu grinned, watching Tom.

"No."

"Head injury?"

"No."

"Edema?"

"No."

"Sex?" Stu grinned, watching Tom.

"Yes, sex is decelerator." Frank watched Tom.

Tom slammed the soda down to the table, splattering the wooden surface, smiling and nodding. "Sex? Gawd. Sex always makes me sleep like a baby. Shit. Where's my wife? Where's Jane? I'm going home to get fucked." Tom jumped from the sofa and moved to the door, leaving the house.

Stu and Jace chuckled.

Frank stood, dashing and yelling after Sawyer. "Tom, wait?"

"Let him go. He needs to relax." Austin smiled, sitting in the chair, motioning for Frank to return back to his chair and the discussion.

"What are we going to do?" Stu turned with a sour frown to see Austin.

"Let's go back to the chemical imbalance of Katt's healthy body. How can you prove that in a court of law, Jace? How can it help us defend her with the jury?" Austin nodded and viewed Jace.

Stu said with a furious brow to Austin. "You still want to defend her ass."

Austin turned with a stern face to see Stu without commenting, since he never passed a single judgment on his brothers for their unique perspective and patiently hearing all their points of view, comments, observations, and opinions, being a good leader. His dad taught him that leadership quality.

"What's your suggestion, Stu?" Frank returned and sat on the sofa, turning with a frown to see Stu.

"Turn her in to the FBI." Stu viewed Austin.

"That's inhuman, Stu." Frank shook his skull, waving his hand. He wanted to cure Katt and not lock her away from human society without any medical aid.

"That's the right thing to do." Stu nodded to Austin.

"This is the right thing to do? Would the public do the right thing, too? The citizens want to hang her from the highest banyan tree in Miami and watch her struggle and die a slow death." Frank said with a frustrated brow to Stu.

Stu turned with a growl to Mangrove. "She killed 8,063 people, Frank. She deserves to die a slow painful death in my opinion." Stu wanted Katt to suffer like Cliffy without any medical aid.

"You actually believe that with all your heart, Stu." Frank exhaled.

"I believe you have a moral dilemma here." Jace turned with a frown to see the nose profile on Austin.

"Moral dilemma? Or immoral girl?" Stu frowned and viewed Austin.

Austin listened to his brothers, turning with a nod to see Jace. "Jace, can you please tell us about your working theory of chemical imbalances?"

Jace said with a nod and a grin to each brother. "The human body is a very sophisticated and complex organism, producing thousands of mineral, proteins, and enzymes to nourish the organs, veins, bones, skin, and other body parts that I cannot name them all here. However, a single chemical imbalance can make a person silly, crazy, mental..."

"Does Tom have a chemical imbalance?" Frank frowned and viewed Jace.

"You're a physician, Frank." Jace stared at him.

"Just seeking a second opinion," Frank looked down and flicked the pretend lint off his trousers with a grin.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank." Stu frowned, staring at Austin.

"...weak, strong, ill or dangerous." Jace nodded to Austin.

"Ya mean deadly, Jace." Stu grinned to Austin.

Jace said with a nod to Stu and Austin. "Okay. Deadly. Her chemistry is off balance..."

"You've mentioned that word chemical about eighteen damn times, Jace." Stu frowned.

"Three." Frank looked up with a grin to see the nose profile on Stu.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank." Stu turned and frowned to Mangrove.

"What are you trying to tell us, Jace?" Austin frowned to Jace.

"A simple chemical imbalance can be corrected." Jace smiled to Austin.

"Shit." Frank dropped his mouth. "Kattleen can be cured."

"I believe with tests, research, and medicines. Katt can be healed." Jace said with a nod and a grin to each face.

Stu raised his arms, saying with a nod and smile to Jace. "I'm glad you can heal her, Jace. She can plead guilty of insanity, since she is our client. We close the murderess case. We are done with her. Jace can play Dr. Frankenstein behind door number three in the Florida mental health center in Tallahassee."

"There's a mental health rehab facility in West Palm Beach." Frank said with a nod and a grin to Gage.

"Tallahassee is better, Frank." Stu grinned to Frank.

"She should be near, Stu." Frank nodded to Stu.

"Send her back to Alabama, Franklin." Stu pointed to the wall with a nod to Frank.

"She's a home-grown Florida girl, Stuart." Frank sneered at Stu.

"Put her back there in those hillbilly mountains with the whacky folks from Boyer, far away from me, Dr. Mangrove." Stu sneered to Frank.

"There aren't mountains in northwest Florida, Dr. Gage." Frank grinned to Stu.

"I do declare. I believe we have a Mexican standoff." Jace nodded to Austin.

"We vote." Austin looked to each face.

"No." Stu viewed Austin.

"Yes." Frank viewed Austin.

"Yes." Austin viewed Jace.

Stu stood, pointing to Jace, shaking his baldness. "Jace ain't part of the Band of Brothers. He can't vote."

Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing Jace. "Stu's correct. You cannot vote."

"Get Tom's vote." Stu pointed the wall with a nod to Austin.

"Tomorrow." Austin frowned to Stu.

"Now, Austin." Stu pointed the floor with a nod to Austin.

"If I asked Jace for his opinion, then he answered." Austin smiled to Jace.

Stu stomped in front of Austin, exhaling with a huff of impatience. "Do not test my integrity, Austin. I accept our democratic leadership. Talk to Tom now," he pointed the wall again.

Austin nodded and stood, stands scooting around Stu, moving to his garage, and stopped, spinning around, looking to each brother. "In the meantime, we're seeing Katt at the prison. We have an appointment at eleven o'clock and a decision to make. Tom and I will meet you in Miami Springs." Stu nodded with Frank. Austin swung around and moved to the garage door.

Jace stood, touching for Frank's arm. Frank stopped and stared at Jace. Jackson said. "Frank, bring one of the kittens from your house and give to her when you visit Katt, today," he turned and strolled with Frank to the archway as they would travel in Austin's limo.

"Good idea." Frank nodded.

"The animal's going to die like the last one." Stu said, scooting around Frank and Jace to the door.

"I need all the medical data that I can collect, Stu." Jace viewed the rear skull baldness of Stu.

"Sick, Jace. You, researchers are sick fucking ass people." he shook his baldness, holding the door open for Jace and Frank.

"Researchers save millions of lives, every day, Stuart. This is one girl's life that I hope by the grace and goodness of God Almighty that I will save in time." Jace smiled, stomping to the front veranda.

"So be it, Dr. Frankenstein." Stu chuckled, closing the door behind him.

They moved and entered inside Austin's limousine.

Austin started the engine, warming the car, exhaling with a huff of frustration. "Damn it to hell. This is complicated as shit. Okay. Dear God Almighty, I never pray, but I am now. Guide me. I don't what to do." He shifted the stick into reverse on the manual transmission, slowly backing out of the double car garage.

10:13 a.m.

Sport car ride to Four Coral Lane (Tom's mansion)

Hot temperatures and windy with bright sunshine

Austin backed out of the driveway onto a single paved roadway named Coral Lane within tiny Coral Beach, leaving the pink painted house in the sandy dust, so to speak.

His pink mansion was a square-shaped structure with three levels; a set of undivided windows and cloth pink colored window awnings. There were no upper or lower balconies or a swimming pool or double tennis courts only a manicured yard of green grass and nicely trimmed bushes. Colorful impatient flowers decorated the pink stoned sidewalk in front of Austin's house, leading all the way to Stu's.

Four white garages hugged a gray brick driveway and housed a lonely single sports car. The garages were next to a Florida room.

In Florida, a Florida room rolled into a single functioning space for a living room, a dining room, and a play room, where Austin entertained his Quartet family or his newest female flame.

The Florida room was decorated with a black granite fireplace and not used for any social occasion or weather pattern. The billiards table was used by Stu in defeating Tom, each and every time.

The wet bar is covered with Tom's DNA finger prints, every damn day.

Assorted potted green plants scattered about the flooring, surrounding the yellow and white striped fabric which covered the furniture, consisting of twin sofas, four sitting chairs, and two oversized loveseats for eating, sitting, reading or passing the time away inside the 5,000 square feet mansion. A kitchen occupied the southwest corner of the house; the second and third floors held private bedrooms and baths for Austin and any of Austin's personal guests, who were exclusively hundred percent female.

And they did not use the second and third bedrooms either.

Austin passed Stu's house, a throw-back to the 1800s which was composed of natural green and yellow wooden planks and not man-made stuff. The house displayed an exterior green and white colored horizontal striped cloth awning over each window. Four oversized balconies on the front lawn, the back yard, and the side walls that spied on the lush green manicured grass. The bright yellow imported roof tiles nicely color coordinated with the matching yellow wooden doors on the six garage doors, and the square peek-a-boo wooden knee-length old fashion yard fence, Gracie's touch.

Stu and Gracie were certified forest nature tree nuts.

The interior mansion held ten bedrooms and twelve bathrooms, a spa for Gracie and her Quartet sisters, a sports bar for Stu and his Quartet brothers.

The space inside the sports bar held two individual billiards tables, a ping pong table, and a single one-hundred-foot plasma television screen for watching the winning Miami-Dade University sporting games.

If you become bored, then you could challenge the thirteen-foot-high Big Foot monster to a game of hoops.

The brothers liked to drink, eat, and good time it here, during all the sporting events including football, baseball, basketball, hockey, and other sporting events. Or the Quartet could seat in their private rental skybox in downtown Miami basketball sports center or the Ft. Lauderdale football sports center.

The coolest thing inside Stu's house was a reconstructed skeleton, displaying a prehistoric baby mammoth. Stu had acquired it from the foreign country of India and paid through his autocratic nose with millions upon millions of dollars in the rights, the privileges, the ownership fees, the taxes, the tags, the licenses, the shipping charges, and the secret money briars to both a foreign government and the US customs service.

Fortunately, Stu was a billionaire like the rest of his brothers.

Money was no object just the long nine months of time, traveling from the foreign Indian business transportation company that unassembled the baby bones through the Miami International Airport security office, where Tom had lent a legal hand and Sawyer had whined like a wussie the entire time, complaining he wasn't free and his time was for legal business shit at Quartet Associates and not Stu's stupid private creepy museum.

10:16 a.m.

Home on Tom and Jane

Foyer setting

Austin sped by the twin ten foot sculptured light gray granite lion statues with perfectly concreted sculptured flowing manes, introducing gentleman Frank, lady Misty, and their story book medieval castle. He continued driving to the end of the road without running into the ocean and whipped his car to the side like a professional race car driver onto a bricked driveway of the last mansion on Coral Lane.

Tom's mansion was actually and really painted in a blinding bright orange even when seen through a pair of black tinted sunglasses too.

Austin recalled that the color of orange was tinted very closely with the prime hue of red, snorting with his shitty fun.

The largest home in tiny Coral Beach had been awarded every damn year the South Florida beautification home prize by a local Miami architectural magazine, showcasing Tom's unique house decorations.

Austin glanced at the four-tiered water fountain, shooting yellow fluid into the air like a drain of yellow piss, going down a dirty toilet bowl in the middle on Tom's traveling driveway. He passed the toilet bowl, soaring to a set of the iron gates.

The gates were split on each side of the driveway and was guarded by ten big fucking ugly black marble gargoyles, who squatted and shitted their invisible food with from their marble asses. All the statues were commissioned by some turd that lived in the cold-ass state of Alaska.

Janey must really love Tom, allowing him to decorate their house with such giddy shit with all the funky and weird ornamentations which also reflected Tom's science fiction nutty fruit cake personality.

Tom's mansion was a copycat picture of ancient Greek architecture. Six fluted columns guarded the front porch. Eight columns patrolled the sides. And six columns guarded without guns or ammo the rear of the four-story mansion. The electric blue tiles nicely clashed against the orange paint in the blinking Florida sunshine.

Austin zoomed to the veranda.

The back yard contained a junior Olympic-sized swimming with a diving platform and painted black racing lanes underneath the water for a fitness race, however Tom did not swim, dive or suntan due to his German ancestry. There was one outside tennis court, one indoor racquetball court, and one outside volleyball court, completing the fitness center for Jane's entertainment, mostly. Tom spent most of his free time inside the twenty-seated movie theater, watching re-runs of his favorite science fiction movies when not re-reading his favorite science fiction author Ela Barlow.

Tom whined like a peeing puppy for this prime spot on the beach, so the brothers allowed the home construction, since Tom was a spitting image of his father in both appearance and manner, making both men sons of bitches.

Tom's father was a tall lean man with a loud obnoxious tenor voice, a former lawyer of Quartet Company which was owned by the elderly Band of Brothers. Uncle Soy had always gotten his way in both business and pleasure along with his biological son.

Tom had inherited the same fucking DNA traits and greedy materialistic tastes from his Dad.

Tom decorated his palace with an assortment of useless pretty bone china and crystal platters and precious ceramic gold trimmed animal figurines and he somehow, somewhere, someway acquired a Faberge egg.

Stu blatantly had accused Sawyer of stealing the egg along with the original Picasso art painting. The art painting hung in a dark wall corner of the library on the third floor of the mansion.

Frank had tried and continued to try to purchase the Picasso painting every time the brothers and sisters visited at Tom's house for both greed and beauty. Frank had generously offered 97 million dollars for the rare Picasso, but Tom hollered no with fighting fury like a mad man at the hint of a sale. Tom will never give up the artwork just to piss off Frank.

So Stu had always talked about silently breaking and entering Tom's precious villa, stealing the damn thing just for fun. Austin wanted in on that brilliant and nasty plan, but the proper South Florida gentleman Frank refused an active participation in Stu's shitty amusement plot.

So Tom collected precious fragile eggs. Stu collected preserved tree limbs and Frank collected pretty gem stones. Austin did not collect anything but dust that his private housekeeping service took care of.

Austin stopped underneath the veranda and exited the car, moving to the front door, pressing the button, since Tom had ordered all the doors locked, bolted, and sealed to keep out strangers, aliens, and nosy brothers.

Austin kept his front door unlocked for his brothers and his sisters, who were the only residents of Coral Beach, congregating at his mansion any time, any day or any hour.

House servants cleaned and cooked every day and night at Tom's mansion all week and weekend.

Frank's bold suggestion about auditing Tom's personal household payroll records appeared to be a very good idea, since Austin did not want Tom in trouble with IRS. Maybe, the asshole would show a little more compassion with the hard working house staff of Sawyer Manor. After this legal case Austin would lean on Tom and enlighten his butthole path to goodness.

The butler opened the door, who was dressed in a black suit with a thin white necktie, saying without a smile. "Good morning, Dr. Berrington. Welcome to the beautiful and elegant Sawyer Manor, home to Tom and Jane. Please come inside and follow me to your assigned chair into the great room. Would you care for a cold beverage or a reading magazine, perhaps?"

"No thank you. I am here to see Tom." Austin entered and stood inside the entrance foyer, viewing the open theater of the great room.

The butler back stepped from Austin, saying with a nod to Austin. "I will communicate your wishes to Mr. Sawyer, immediately. Please excuse me, sir." He pivoted and trotted to the staircase.

"Thank you." Austin exhaled with a huff of fury with a nod, since Tom's enlightenment might start on the way to the prison. Tom ruled with a strong hand and an acidic tongue as Austin watched the nameless butler climb to the stairs and disappeared around the wall corner, searching for asshole Tom.

Austin looked down to see the clean floor and he was not thirsty, hungry or tired. He was restless, wanting swift action along with a quick decision that will cure Katt now.

Jace was genius smart like Frank.

But the dead kitten was both frightful and sickening, since Katt really did kill all 8,063 souls and not on purpose and not with a guilty mind. Jace said it best that her biological body was out of control, possessing a chemical imbalance.

Tom appeared with a smile, leaning over the railing on the fourth floor, wearing a bathrobe. "Austin."

Austin looked up with a sneer to see Tom. "Get dressed. We're going to the prison." Tom waved with both his hands in silliness and not moving. Berrington yelled. "Now, Tom. We have an appointment at eleven."

"I talked to Frank." Tom stood, pointing to the wall, since Frank was always the first brother to argue his case right or wrong, success or failure, guilty or not.

"Dress, Tom." Austin viewed Tom.

Tom tossed his arms, shaking his skull. "Jeezus Christ, give me a sec," he pivoted and moved, cursing his famous string of nasty words to his master bedroom and Austin's eardrums.

Austin exhaled with a flame of fury at Tom as he planned to listen to Tom's wrong answer first and then sway Tom to his side second, during their drive to the prison. If Tom still did not say the right answer, then Austin would beat the shit of him, before Stu did it.

The democratic process always worked properly for the boss of the Quartet.

Right or wrong. Happy or sad. Love or hate. Guilty or not. Stu thought and acted with his one-sided dimensional emotion.

Austin couldn't beat the shit out of Stu, since Gage outweighed, outreached, and outranked Austin in both hand and body combat along with possessing the swiftest big foot feet in the universe. Therefore, Austin would pick axe on sissy Tom or at least threaten to beat the hell out of him with a fighting fist, if Sawyer did not sway to Austin's side in the upcoming verbal catfight for saving Katt's life.

A few minutes later, Tom galloped down the stairs, wearing a sporting shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

Austin said with a sour frown. "A little casual for the office, Tom?"

Tom jabbed a manicured finger at Austin's nose bridge with a sour frown. "Do not talk, argue, coerce, or threaten me, Austin. I made up my mind," he moved with Austin to the locked front door, unlatching the lock.

"Janey?" Austin turned with a frown to see the fourth floor.

Tom chuckled and opened door, moving underneath the veranda. "She's sleeping. She got one hell of a fucking. I feel great."

Austin turned and followed Sawyer outside. "I'm very happy for you, Tom."

"When was the last time you got fucked, Austin?" Tom giggled.

Austin said with a sour frown, looking at his car. "It has been a while. Our newest legal case is more important than a standard fucking. Don't ya think so, Tom?" He balanced his palms. "Katt dead? Katt alive?"

"Don't influence," Tom stopped and looked down to the sports car, raising his arms, saying with a worried brow. "Now, ya going to try to kill me if I don't change my mind."

Austin shoved Tom to the passenger door. "Get in, asshole. We're going to be late. Do ya really think I'd try to kill you with me at the wheel, Tom?"

Tom gingerly touched the door handle with an index finger and a thumb pad and then whipped back his hand from the metal, exhaling with a puff of fear. "Yes, Austin, I would. Wait!? Spread them." He raised his hands, saying with a nod to Austin.

"I beg your pardon." Austin scooted around the rear bumper, staring at Tom.

Tom jabbed a manicured finger at Austin. "Wanna check your physical body for needles and shit."

"Now," Austin growled to Tom and stood at the open driver door.

Tom jerked the door handle open and slid his ass into the leather seat, slamming the door shut, and latched his body into the safety belt. "Drive the speed limit. Or I'll tell Stu." He looked straight through the window shield with a nod and a grin.

"Really," Austin smirked and viewed the nose profile on Tom, cranking the warm engine.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, Stu called. He told me to tell ya that if you threaten, coerce, or killed me then he was going to beat the hell out of you for the next six months," he laughed, leaning forward and clicked open the forward compartment inside the car, searching through the papers with both his eyeballs and his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Austin drove from the house, speeding down the driveway, quickly glancing at Tom's activity in his forward compartment.

"Looking for bombs, knives, and shit." Tom shifted through the contents inside the compartment, exhaling with a huff of relief.

"I don't keep shit in my personal vehicle. My weapon's in my coat pocket in the back. Where's yours?" Austin sped down the road to the interstate.

"Prison. Don't carry a weapon. Want to come home and fuck my wife and not the pretty boys in jail cell number nine." Tom laughed with Austin and slammed the compartment closed, looking at the road.

10:27 a.m.

Sports car ride north Interstate 95

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Austin sped onto the interstate to the city of Miami Springs. "Your answer is no," he drove, looking at the road and the cars.

"Yes." Tom nodded.

"Your answer is yes," Austin viewed the road.

"No." Tom nodded.

"You're fuckingly confusing me, Tom." Austin drove and chuckled, using one of Tom's made-up cuss words.

Tom turned and jabbed a manicured finger at Austin's nose profile. "Fuck you. Listen, Old Man. I will make this gawd damn perfectly clear. She is fuckingly guilty. Turn her in to the shitty FBI or Phil for her 8,063 crimes of cold blooded murderess murders. I agree with Jace. Okay? Katt isn't mental. It's like...like he says she's chemically something. Let our lovely US Federal Government help her," he flipped his hand, viewing the wind shield.

"We can help her."

"We cannot."

"Did you tell Janey?"

"Hell no. She'd fuckingly freak. I took the blood pact oath. I agree. Stop harping on me, Austin. This is one gawd damn murderess case I'm very happy to get rid of and giving another shitty lawyer the chance of glorious fucking fame and fortune."

"She isn't going to get a trial, Tom. The president will hang her, first. Everyone's upset. Everyone's mad. Everyone's scared. Shit. The entire US of A thinks that she murdered these people. Damn it to hell. What happened to innocent, before proven guilty?"

Tom stomped the floor with both his new leathers. "That edict went out the door, when she killed 16,000 people, including innocent babies, kids, grandmas, and animals for Christ's sake, Austin. Open your diamond tinted eyeballs, man."

"She's not a murderess."

"How many times are you going to sing that tune, Old Man?" Tom turned with sour frown to see Austin's nose profile.

"Until I can make you hum it with me." Austin drove and chuckled, viewing the road.

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, shaking his skull. "Austin, tell me? Why ya fighting for her innocence? Christ, I remembered in Boyer, you wanted to blow her shitty brains out the side of her fucking head with your gawd damn Ghost. What has changed your mind, man?"

Austin increased the speed of the car to eighty miles-per-hour, down shifting and popping the clutch as his car zoomed up to ninety miles-per-hour.

The hands grabbed the dashboard as the eyeballs saw Austin's car pass every single gawd damn truck and car on the interstate, and the voice yelled. "Shit. Slow down, Old Man. You're going to kill us and our all heavenly angels too."

"Just having a little fun, Law Man." Austin smirked, viewing the road at the great speed.

The hands moved from the dashboard, hugging the safety belt as the skull shook side to side, and the voice yelled. "I'm not going to change my mind, Austin. Slow the fuck down. I wanna live and get fucked tonight." The car sped up to ninety-five miles-per-hour as the tall trees, the small bushes, and the cars were only a set of light blurs within Tom's eyeballs like a set of fading ghosts.

"Hold on." Austin smirked, downshifting for more speed, passing every single vehicle on the interstate, weaving back and forth in the six lanes of pavement.

"No." Tom raised his palms to cover his face, viewing the tiny specks of red tail lights of vehicles that slowed down for their car to pass as Austin whipped around them and jerked back into the previous lane for his shitty fun. Tom held and released his sour breath from vomiting and yelled, beating on the dashboard. "No. No. No. Don't scare me. Just wait 'till I tell. Stu's going..."

Austin slammed both the clutch and the brake, flinging the stick into neutral for the unsafe stop, chuckling. The car slid to the right to the grass medium strip as Austin compensated and jerked the steering wheel to the left.

The four tires squealed and smoked as the sports car stopped inside the sandy media strip of I-95.

Tom was being strangled to death by his own Adam's apple, jerking the taunt safety belt from his throat, sucking in buckets of air molecules and violently coughed for oxygen, whispering. "Fuck..."

Austin smiled, shifting the stick into first gear, accelerating to normal speed limit, and veered off the interstate ramp down to the highway for one-mile distance. Austin turned off to the private road, driving the circular pathway to the Miami Springs US Federal Government Correctional Institution for Women. The Institution safely housed Katt from the outside telephone calls, hand written letters, bomb-type packages, and the zillions of internet blogs claiming death threats on a second by second basis.

The new security team at the prison was composed of two QA guards and two prison guards, who were posted at the gates outside the prison building, inside the lobby, and down the hallway. They observed and monitored everything and everybody before it reached Katt, since the daily packages in and out of prison were electronically plus hand inspected for death bombs, including medical and food supply box.

Austin had arranged for the other permanent guests of the prison shifted to another prison location within Miami-Dade County by an unfriendly order from the Florida governor, since Austin trusted no one.

And no one trusted Austin.

10:46 a.m.

City of Miami Shores (18 miles north from Coral Beach)

USA Correctional Institution for Women

Front entrance and lawn setting

Hot temperatures and partly sunny

"Good ole USA," Austin said without smiling, driving around the circular pavement.

"Holy fucking shit." Tom rolled down the window for a better eyeball view.

The nicely manicured lawn was hosting a party of vehicles and people in a circle of decorative grass and flowers.

Numerous buses, cars, trucks, and vans had formed an outer ring around the circular driveway and rows of people had formed an inner ring around the vehicles.

The rows of people were police officers, reporters, photographers, celebrities, politicians, preachers, physicians, nurses, teachers, students, teens, little kids, babies and Seth. Seth danced side to side with a microphone in one hand and a hangman's noose in the other, standing on top of a newly constructed wooden gallows platform.

His stomach soured. His heart sunk down to his pinky toes and his palms sweated. His brain stung and his emotions flared in both fury and hate. Austin growled at the happy party, slowly driving around the pathway. "Son of a fucking bitch."

Tom sneered at the happy party which was headed by Seth. "Asshole."

"Looks like a campaign for presidency," Austin said.

"A death march," Tom stared at a newly constructed hangman's gallows, hearing the chant.

"Hang her. Hang her. Hang her..." the words came from an angry mod of people in the formed ring.

Austin parked in the grass next to the warden's car, seeing his limo on the other side, scooting out the car, facing the loud and peaceful people demonstration.

Tom exited the car, shaking his skull, turning with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Austin. "Leave the gun."

"Let me think about that one." Austin slammed the door shut, watching the loud and peaceful people demonstration.

Seth appeared, flying down the pavement in his golden colored golf cart, smiling and waving to the demonstrators, veering to the side and directly to Tom and Austin. He stopped the cart, saying with a smile and a nod to Tom. "Good morning, gentlemen."

Tom leaped at Seth, barely touching the dull brown designer business jacket on Seth's arm. "Ya fucking son of bitch."

Austin slapped Tom's arms down to the grass, wrapping his arms around Tom's shoulders, dragging him backwards away from Seth. "Leave, Hamilton. I can't hold him off forever." Austin swung around to the smiling face of Seth and blocked Tom from killing the bastard.

Tom rammed his body into Austin, wiggling his fingers around Austin's chest, trying to attack Seth.

Seth crossed his arms and exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his skull, saying with a smile and a nod to the rear skull of Austin and one eyeball on Tom, who was behind Berrington. "Well that is not a mighty nice way to greet a fellow attorney, Mr. Sawyer. I'm just being friendly and courtesy on this lovely warm Florida morn."

Tom snorted, growled, and snarled to Austin's face, reaching around Austin's chest, trying to scratch out Seth's eyeballs. Tom leaned, pushed, and shoved his body into Austin, getting closer to Seth.

Berrington blocked with his arms, hands, and leathers as his peripheral vision saw the steel doors burst open and Stu, Frank, and nine armed QA guards galloped to the rescue as Austin gritted his teeth. "About fucking time..."

"Get out of way, Austin." Tom grunted and pushed to Seth, who was still inside the golf cart wearing a smile and a nod. A new pair of hands grabbed the shoulders and ripped Tom from Austin, tucking Sawyer behind the back spine on Big Man. "Let go..." Tom screamed and wiggled his fingers to Seth again.

Stu sneered to Seth, blocking Tom from advancing. "Go back to the zoo, Mr. Hamilton."

Seth said with a smile and a nod to Stu. "I do declare. This is a free country with the wonderful first amendment, freedom of speech. I'm conducting a peaceful demonstration sanctioned by the great governor of Florida for this grand rally on the fine soil of Miami Springs. Care to see my legal permit?" he patted his jacket, nodding to Stu.

"Hell no." Stu growled and blocked Tom from killing Seth, because he wanted the bloody honor alone.

Seth straightened his jacket and tapped the steering wheel for the driver to leave, saying with a nod and smile to the faces. "Very well then, I shall go. Enjoy your day, gentlemen." The golf cart circled and putt-putted back to the hangman's platform.

Austin, Tom, Frank, and Stu watched the asshole leave.

Stu swung around to Tom, holding the biceps, saying with a worried brow. "Shit, Tom. Don't get jailed now?"

Tom back stepped from the cuddle of Stu and exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his skull, slapping his chest, and said a nod and a frown. "Sorry. Gawd, I couldn't control myself. That fucking asshole holding a show, a hanging right here on prison grounds," he swung around and moved to the prison doors as Stu pulled up beside Tom.

"Permit was signed by our governor too." Frank moved beside Austin and behind Tom and Stu.

"And I voted for that asswipe too." Stu sneered.

"The demonstration permit is legit then." Tom growled.

"Damn. This girl hasn't got one friend in the state of Florida." Austin said.

"You mean the United States." Frank nodded.

"You mean the universe." Stu said.

Tom said with a smile and a nod, moving to the prison doors. "She has five now. If you count our lovely ladies, she has eight. That's all she needs for the time being."

"Right on." Frank fist-bumped with Austin. Then Austin fist-bumped with Stu as they grinned and nodded with Tom's legal decision to defend the young girl in a court of law.

"There's nothing legit about threats, coercion, and downright fucking evil." Tom shook his skull and his hands, thumbing over his collar bone, saying with a nod and a sour frown. "Fucking asshole, Seth Hamilton. He takes people's rights away without a fair trial. That's why I'm a gawddamn lawyer, a genius gawddamn lawyer. I protect girls like her from guys like him. I'm going to hang his ass high in the sky and let his shit dry out and the palmetto bugs eat it," he slapped his chest, mumbling a set of more colorful nasty remarks about the charming southern gentleman Seth.

"Does she know about this circus?" Austin turned to see the edge of people demonstration.

"No." Stu looked around to the sky, the walls, and the grounds for any trouble from the loud and peaceful people demonstration.

"Does she watch television?" Tom stared at the prison doors and QA guards.

"No." Stu scanned the driveway for trouble.

"Katt doesn't like to see the news. She says it is very depressing and sad." Frank said, moving with Austin.

"Thank God Almighty for that." Austin nodded to Frank.

Tom said with a sneer. "Has any one of the gawd damn correctional guards told her anything?"

"No." Stu stared at the prison doors.

Tom turned with a sneer to see the nose profile on Stu. "Are you certain, Gage? Because, I'm going to break their fucking necks if they have."

Stu turned with a stern face and a nod to see Tom. "I asked. And I reminded them of the legal paper they each signed with blood. If they talk, they go to lock up."

"Some shitting good news, for once." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration and worry, entering the lobby of the prison as the QA guard opened the door with a nod.

Stu stopped and whispered to his men.

Tom led to the glass booth which was the first prison guard duty station, saying with a stern face and a calm tone. "Open the damn door."

"ID?" The prison guard sneered without a smile.

Tom jabbed a manicured finger to the guard who stood behind the glass, saying with a sneer. "Fuck that, asshole. You know me. You know why I'm here. Open the gawddamn door. Or you'll be guarding fucking fried chicken fingers in Perry, Florida, this afternoon."

The guard leaned into the dirty clean and snarled to Tom. "Talk to me..."

Tom jerked out his mobile telephone from his jacket pocket, punching the familiar telephone number, ignoring the tiny damn insect threat and placed the phone to his ear, saying with a smile. "State Attorney Harold..."

"Open," the prison guard curled his lips to Tom.

Tom swished and pocketed his mobile telephone, turning with a smile and a nod to the guard. "Thank you. And if you make that roar sound again..."

"Enter, sirs." The guard faked a smile.

Tom dashed through the gate and down the hallway to the Prep Room first, changing and leaving the PPE equipment, moved and punched the secret code into the key pad, scooting to the viewing chamber. He stood and stared with a smile to Katt. "Katt sweetheart, good morning..."

Katt smiled and waved, moving from her cot to the chair, sitting and seeing Tom. "Good morning, Mr. Sawyer."

"Tom. Please call me, Tom. Did Frank bring you another kitten?"

"Okay, Tom. Yes. Mr....Frank brought me another baby to play with but for only ten minutes. But, um..." Katt said with a confused brow.

"What is it?" Tom parted his lips. Katt had figured out the fucking mess of people who were shitting on the prison lawn. Or the baby cat had died from her hand sweat. Frank, Stu, and Austin quietly entered and quickly sat in their assigned seats, listening.

Katt said with a smile and a nod. "I liked the kitten. She's so cute and playful. I was told she was the kitten from yesterday, but she's not. The little baby cat yesterday was a little tom."

"Ya gots a name sake, buddy." Stu chuckled and slapped Tom's back muscles.

"Shut up, Stu." Tom said with a fake smile and a nod.

Katt said with a giggle and a grin. "A little boy cat is called a tom and a little girl cat is called a queen. The new kitten was a female, this morning."

"How can you tell?" Tom said with a confused brow.

Katt smiled. "I lived on a farm for seventeen years. There are subtle differences in males and females like humans. What happened to the tomcat from yesterday?"

"Holy shit. She figured out the animals were different." Stu parted his lips.

Tom said with a chuckle and a smile. "Frank can explain," turning to see Frank.

"Thanks a lot, Tom." Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration and moved, standing at the window. "The mother cat had several kittens. I thought it would be nice for you to take turns, playing with each one of them to give them a fair petting."

"Great choice of English words, Frank." Tom slapped Frank's collar bone, chuckling with Austin and Stu.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, sliding from the window and back to his chair.

"I love you too, Frankie." Tom smiled at her. "Katt, the next step in the trial process is a series of interviewed with the physicians." Katt nodded. He said. "Good girl. The questions will start tomorrow at eight am, nine am, and ten am." She nodded and he nodded. "I'll be back after lunch. Don't worry. These questions are very easy to answer. Do you need anything?"

"No." Katt smiled.

"How are they treating ya here, Katt?" Tom asked with worry.

"Fine." Katt smiled.

"Do the guards talk to ya?" Tom asked and her answer had better be no. Or some of the guard heads would literally roll off their broad shoulders onto the clean gray floors.

"No." Katt said with a smile and a nod.

"Do they tell ya stories?" Tom asked, wondering if she had heard the gossip outside the walls of the prison.

"No. They just ignore me and give me lots of food." Katt smiled.

"Do ya have enough blankets, pillows, food, water, milk, books, toys?" Tom smiled.

Katt smiled. "Yes. But, well, I wished that I had my laptop and note papers from Ruby Beach. I'm writing a book for fun."

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "I'll arrange delivery of the laptop to you. Don't fret. We'll get them air delivered to you this afternoon."

Katt said with a puzzled brow. "You would do that for me."

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "Of course, anything you want, sweetheart. What else do you want?"

"Please don't say the internet." Stu whispered into Tom's eardrum.

"That's all. Thank you for all your help, Tom." Katt smiled.

"You're very welcome, sweetheart. Anything else you need, tell the guard. If he doesn't obey, and Stu'll beat the shit out of him for ya," turning with a grin and a nod to see Stu. "Right, Stu?" Stu nodded with a smile to Tom as they laughed. Katt smiled.

"Correct, Thomas." Stu laughed.

"Bye, Katt." Tom said, back stepping from the window.

"Bye-bye. Tom." Katt stood, moving back to her cot.

The Quartet moved and left the containment cell and inside the Prep Room, removing their individual PPE equipment.

Tom removed his gown and discarded the used clothes into the plastic damper, viewing with a worried brow to see Stu. "Stu, ya comfortable with the prison guards and their mouths?"

"Very comfortable, Tom, I personally have hinted at body parted that wouldn't grow back, if they attempted to break the signed legal documents." Stu chuckled, discarding his PPE clothing.

"Good going, Big Man." Austin slapped Stu's back muscles, smiling.

11:18 p.m.

Sports car ride south Interstate 95

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

They moved out the building with Austin in the lead and beside Frank. Tom and Stu walked together and discussed the security details for the upcoming courtroom trial.

Austin stopped at the driver door, viewing Tom. "Ride with them or me?"

"You," Tom shuffled to the passenger door.

"Good choice." Austin smiled and slapped the door handle.

"Austin, Code Pink..." Stu shouted and stood behind the limousine with his mobile telephone in his ear, listening, nodding and grunting.

"Shit. Who?" Tom swung to see Stu, dropping his mouth. The Coral Beach QA guards had called in the code to Stu.

Code Pink represented a dangerous threat, regarding a wife or a sister of the Quarter. Code Blue designated a brother of the Quartet. The codes were created for their loved ones which indicated imminent trouble and alerted the brothers to some ass-kicking response to a dangerous situation.

"Roll out, Tom..." Austin slid to the seat as Tom slammed the door.

Tom dialed up Jane on his mobile telephone.

Austin whiplashed his car in reverse gear and screeched out the parking lot, turning the ninety-degree sharp turn with danger and onto the highway, running through the red traffic light at the interstate exchange. And he hit the gray asphalt at sixty miles-per-hour, accelerating the car in 1.2 seconds to ninety miles-per-hour to Coral Beach for the daring damn rescue.

"Jane, sweetheart." Tom said with worry into his mobile telephone, viewing the floor mats.

Pause.

"ETA, nine minutes." Austin passed every Miami driver and non-Miami driver visiting beautiful South Florida on the interstate. Tom was not yelling about the illegal speeding, because a Code Pink revealed that someone or something was attacking their lovely ladies at Coral Beach.

Tom, Stu, and Frank were pissed and planned an execution style kill for that someone, if one of their wives had been harmed, even accidentally.

"Who!?" Tom sneered, stomping the floor mats.

Pause.

"Reporters." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, listening to Jane's story.

"Media." Austin growled, soaring up and down the bridge on the interstate at hundred miles-per-hour, daring any police officer to stop him.

"Where?" Tom asked.

Pause.

"Stu had conned into my conversation with Jane." Tom turned with a stern face to see Austin's nose profile.

Pause.

"The reporters are located at the first gate." Tom turned and viewed the floor mats.

"The Coral Beach gate?" Austin frowned with fury viewing the road.

"Secured." Tom viewed the floor mats.

"Good." Austin passed downtown Miami, where the sky scrapers almost touched heaven, since the land was flat in south Florida.

"Stu ordered four terrain vehicles with assault weapons at ready to the front gate in attack position." Tom viewed Austin's nose profile.

"Shoot to kill." Austin drove and ordered as the boss of Quartet.

"No." Tom frowned at Austin's nose profile.

"Shoot to kill. I don't want anyone passed the front gate to our sisters." Austin growled and drove, viewing the road.

"Fine," Tom smiled. "Shoot to kill."

Pause.

"Fuck." Tom laughed.

"What?" Austin drove and frowned, viewing the road.

"Stu agrees." Tom said with a chuckle and a nod, cutting off the mobile telephone link.

"We think alike." Austin grinned, viewing the road.

"You and Frank call me a blood sucking leech." Tom said with a grin.

"You are." Austin grinned, driving.

"Gawd, man, ya get psyched with this war shit." Tom smiled, viewing the road.

"Stu's the war-god." Austin smirked, driving.

"You're the war-goddess." Tom laughed.

"I beg your pardon." Austin glanced to see Tom's nose profile and the road.

"You like the feel and taste like brother Stu but at a lower level like a fucking female." Tom laughed.

Austin sneered. "Watch it, Tom. I'm not in a very good mood at the present time."

"Join the club. This had been a shitty day, so far. And it's not even lunchtime." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing the slow moving traffic.

11:33 p.m.

Sports car ride south on US Highway One

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Austin accelerated down the interstate ramp to US Highway 1, jerking the car to the left and to the right, driving down the middle of a three lane highway, passing the slower vehicles to a bright red traffic light.

"Run it. Clear on this side of the intersection..." Tom grinned, viewing the side window for on-coming traffic.

"My pleasure." Austin viewed his side window, seeing any traffic and he trusted Tom with his life too, accelerating faster and ran the red traffic light with no patrolling police cars at the intersection. He asked. "Coconut Grove or LeJeune?"

"LeJeune." Tom viewed the road. "LeJeune Road is the faster street closer to Coral Beach rather than the sparkling water street along pretty Coconut Grove with too many trees, too many cars, and too many pedestrians..."

"Hold on." Austin banked the car to the left for a sharp ninety degree turn from the highway onto LeJeune Road. He lifted his leather off the gas pedal for two seconds, decelerating the speed down forty-eight miles-per-hour, crossing the green traffic at the intersection and downshifted into third gear, gunning the clutch and gasoline pedal to eighty miles-per-hour. Austin sped down an empty residential street.

The road intersected at Sunset Drive, turning to the left and to the right into the first sentry gate of Coral Beach.

"Not at the light. Turn left pass the bridge and cross into the residential street." Tom typed a text on his mobile telephone.

"You do this often, Tom?" Austin viewed the water bridge.

Tom parted his lips, staring down at his mobile phone. "Sometimes."

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, following Tom's driving instructions, since this was a Code Pink. "I will audit your payroll books for fraud and order a Coral Gables patrol car on your ass for a week, Tom."

Tom said with an annoyed brow, flipping his hand in the air. "Shit, man. Just drive the damn car, Austin. I wanna hug my wife see if she's okay." Tom grunted and viewed his mobile telephone.

Austin turned to the left, passing the water bridge, slowing down to twenty-five miles-per-hour, looking for playing children and their pets on the residential city street. He looped to the right, barely halting at the legal Stop sign and pulled onto Sunset Drive.

The television vans, the television reporters, and other parked vehicles lounged around the iron gates of Coral Beach.

"Holy fucking shit. Where's my gun? I'm going shoot the fucking bastards for scaring my wife." Tom growled, reaching and yanking Austin's Ghost from his jacket.

Austin caught a flash of shiny silver and viewed the street. "Hey."

"You drive. I shoot." Tom checked the razor clip and slapped it back into the shunt, dropping the passenger window.

"Serious?" Austin chuckled.

Tom pointed the gun barrel and the other hand at the television van with a pair of antennas with a laugh, "Hell, yeah, lookie there, the TV van is sitting pretty on our property, a shooting target," aiming the gun at the open window.

Where?" Austin quickly glanced at the grass and the road, seeing a crowd of people, parties, and parked vehicles.

"Under the blooming Banyan tree, the driver's stuffing his face with food." Tom stared at the target as the sports car swung around to the television van.

"Got him," Austin saw the van with a smile.

"Our property, our fight, our right to preserve our freedom," Tom raised the Ghost, holding in a two-fisted grip with a snigger.

"Which amendment is that?" Austin frowned.

"The right to bear arms," Tom grinned and aimed the barrel at the van.

"And which amendment is the right to shoot the beared arms, Tom?" Austin said with a worried brow.

"Don't worry, man. I'll get us off. Don't you trust me, bro?" Tom smiled, targeting his prey.

"Yeah, I do. And I wanna have some fun too." Austin maneuvered his car closer to the target. The television van was parked over the lush grass and the colorful wildflowers, property land of Coral Beach city limits.

"Squashing our fifty dollar per square foot imported Virgin Island grass." Tom said with a nod and a smile.

"Really?" Austin said with a puzzled brow.

"Could be? Have to ask Frank?" Tom turned with a grin to see the Austin's nose profile.

Austin said with a nod and a laugh. "Cause and effect, I like it." Tom laughed as the car speaker buzzed. Austin punched the button on the steering column, saying. "Arrived. Media, everywhere."

"Acknowledged." Stu said via the limo speaker.

Tom smiled. "Stu, call the Gables police and report a drive-by shooting, a parking enforcement code violation, and a beautification award infraction on our Coral Beach property." Loud obnoxious laughter filled the car speaker as Tom said with an annoyed brow. "Stu, hey, asshole. Stu?"

"Wwww...hahaha." Stu echoed his laughter via the car speaker as Austin snorted.

Tom said with an annoyed brow. "Shit. The asshole's laughing so hard he can't make the fucking phone call," yelling. "Frank, get on the fucking phone."

"Not now, Tom, Stuart is having serious body convulsions." Frank said via the limo speaker.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Fuck him. Call Coral Gables police and report a drive-by shooting, a parking code violation, and a beautification infraction on our property."

"Why?" Frank said via the limo speaker.

"Just do it, asshole." Tom growled.

"Fine, but I am not paying bail on you, two asswipes." Frank terminated the limo speaker with a click.

Austin and Tom laughed. Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Stu will. Ready, Tom?"

"I wish you had the convertible, Austin." Tom narrowed his eyelids to the target, aiming the Ghost.

"Don't miss, Tom. It would be rather embarrassing." Austin smiled.

"Miss... I don't miss." Tom turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Austin.

"Tom, you're the worse shooter in the Quartet." Austin drove.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter." Tom said with a grin.

"What the hell does that have to do with shooting?" Austin drove to the first Coral Gable sentry gate.

"Don't know. Sounded good." Tom chuckled.

"One chance." Austin drove.

"Ready." Tom turned with a wicked smirk to see the open window, feeling the hot breeze on his face. "Gawd."

"What?" Austin dropped his mouth, viewing the first sentry gate.

"Need a mask." Tom pulled his shirt over his nose and his mouth, exposing his flat pale chest.

Austin laughed, pressing the car speaker to the sentry gate channel. "Berrington, silver car, open the damn gate."

"I see you. Yes, sir." The QA sentry guard said via the gate speaker.

Austin sped the car to the first gate as the gate slowly opened, allowing them to escape into their private billionaire community. "One shot."

"Got it," Tom aimed, fired, and hit a razor blade dead on the right front tire of television van.

The tire loudly exploded with a boom.

And a shower of raining rubber bits plummeted up in the air, on people, and down over the grass. People screamed and ducked or ran and hid for cover as the Coral Gables police sirens whistled in the far distant.

Tom held his breathe and shot a second razor blade in the right rear tire on the sane television van

The tire exploded with a second boom.

The crazy reporters, the camera crews, and the cuddling citizens hit the sandy ground for a second time, covering their skull.

Austin and Tom hooted, hollered, and clapped with excitement. Austin rushed his new car into the partially opened metal gate, scraping the polished shine. "Shit."

"Buy another one, asshole." Tom laughed at the fucked-up scene of panicking native and non-native Miamians, lying on the itchy grass.

"That was fun. Really fun." Austin laughed with Tom, racing through the second sentry gate, waving at the guards, speeding to his mansion for the emergency.

"Like the good ole fun times." Tom said with a nod and a laugh.

"Ya know it shooting, killing, and executing any one that got in our way...the Quartet way." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration.

Tom turned with a stern face to see Austin's nose profile. "Seth?"

"I'll have to ponder that statement, Tom." Austin drove.

"Well don't let me influence your decision." Tom grinned.

Austin said with a sour tone. "I just wanna know if ya can get me off for murder one."

"I'll have to ponder that statement, Austin." Tom laughed with Austin as the car rolled down the yellow brick road for lunch.

1:03 p.m.

QUARTET ASSOCIATES headquarters

20th floor Law Library setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Inside the law library with all the QA lawyers in attendance, Tom stood and paced back and forth in front of the long office desk, pivoting and narrowing his eyelids at the thirty-eight out of fifty five staff roster of lawyers.

Tom, Stu, Austin, and Frank lived, ate, and shitted this murderess trial on an hourly basis, solving gawd damn puzzles and gathering sketchy fucking-ass clues as they tracked shitty hidden personal agendas of some mean assholes who were trying to kill Katt like Seth and the rest of angry, mad, and scared American citizens who lived in the continental USA.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, sitting on the edge of the office desk. "Listen up. We're going to fight slander with slander. Find every newspaper, magazine, book, notebook, tablet, letter, memo, scratch pad, sticky note, and napkin that references Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. If an earthling shits her name, get it."

"Libel?" A visible lawyer stood in the crowd, shouting and nodding.

"Great idea. Give that man a bonus of one hundred fifty thousand dollars." Tom pointed to the lawyer and viewed Frank. Frank stared at the lawyer and not writing down Tom's first command. Tom snapped his fingers for attention, shouting. "Mangrove, wake up. Bonuses, spend money."

"Right, Tom." Frank said with an annoyed brow, looking down and writing the lawyer's name on his paper with the pencil, looking up to see the nose profile on Austin.

Austin stared at the rear skull on Tom.

Tom stood and paced back and forth in front of the office desk, sitting on top of the desk, staring the lawyers. "Listen up. Ya'll know all the scrum bags that the DA had hired for this murderess case. Some of our own staff members, but I'll not comment on that stupid ass move. We know all the lawyers. We eat lunch, go to parties, and share fun times in Miami. My directive, I want you to follow, record, trace, and tail each one of them on a daily basis," raising his finger with a grin. "But, do not get caught," he chuckled with the lawyers. "I don't have time to bail your asses out of jail and neither do my un-jailed staff. Divide into groups, consisting of named code teams: Tailers and Stalkers. Write, snap, tape, record, and map all movements, dates, times, people, places, and importantly any evidence they leave behind. Collect, gather, and steal it for safe keeping and we sue every person who speaks, yells, laughed, whispered or burps Katt's name is going to get a lawsuit. SLAPP is a strategic lawsuit against public participation as smart QA lawyers you should have read something about them, since they can apply to individual plaintiffs. We've going to enact that SLAPP lawsuit to silence and intimidate the critics which includes everyone from assholes to punks," he chuckled.

A visible lawyer stood in the crowd, saying. "Tom means that the author, who is writing the nasty vile articles on Miss Kattrell to the lazy harmless zealots, who are lining the Miami streets with their nasty signs."

"Right. Give that man a bonus of one hundred fifty thousand dollars." Tom pointed to the lawyer with a smile and a nod.

"Right, Tom." Frank wrote down the name and viewed the nose profile on Austin.

Austin stared at the rear skull on Tom.

A visible lawyer stood in the crowd, saying. "Doesn't that burden laid with us to prove them wrong, Tom?"

"Right, give that woman a bonus of one hundred fifty thousand dollars." Tom smiled and pointed to her. "Most US States accept that the legal burden is already on the plaintiff to research the factual foundation of their compliant, before filing a lawsuit. The Federal civil procedure pleading includes a short and plain notice of the claims asserted. The system offers plaintiffs the advantage of suing, first and discovering the underlying facts later in an actual trial court of law."

"A severe disadvantage of the SLAPP motion will result in a dismissal of many or all ongoing legitimate cases." A visible lawyer stood in the crowd, saying.

"Right and you owe QA, fifty thousand dollars." Tom laughed and pointed to the lawyer who wore a red face and two bug eyes. The lawyer looked down to see the floor as Tom said with a nod and a smile. "Right, man, give him a bonus of one hundred fifty thousand dollars for using his smart brain. We will file lawsuits on everyone that includes, but not limited to the television personalities, the common folks, the crooked politicians, the hospital staff and anyone else that critics Miss Kattrell, even our own family blood-kin."

"Slander?" A visible lawyer stood in the crowd, saying.

"Right. Give that man a bonus of one hundred fifty thousand dollars." Tom smiled and pointed to the lawyer. "We SLAPP them lawsuits from us and they slap their monies to us," he chuckled. "Any more questions, comments or brilliant ideas?"

Silence lingered in the room.

Tom smiled and clapped, sliding off the desk. "Excellent. Back to work. Go make money," he nodded at the true purpose of his lawyers.

The lawyers stood and moved out the room.

Tom swung and strolled with a smile and a nod to Austin, Frank, and Stu, who were standing against the wall.

Frank tapped on the paper, saying with an annoy brow. "Tom, you spent three quarters of a million dollars in thirty minutes."

"So it's only money." Tom shrugged and giggled with a grin.

"Not QA money." Frank narrowed his eyelids at Tom.

"O, that." Tom viewed Austin.

Austin soured as CEO of Quartet Associates, "No illegal acts, Tom..."

"...on our books, our ledgers, our monies, Tom." Frank soured as CFO of Quartet Associates.

Tom raised and slapped his palms down to his new trousers, saying with a nod and a grin. "All right, I'll pay the bonuses from my personal bank account," viewing Austin and Frank.

Frank nodded to Austin.

Austin soured. "You will also pay off-the-clock overtime monies along with your other incentive bonuses plus your new equipment requests. The spy camera gadgets being created, developed, and designed by Stu. The additional money for the bond bailouts of asshole lawyers are coming from your personal bank account, Tom. I do not want our company business involved in your illegal, illicit, dishonest, unlawful, criminal..."

"Covered, man," Tom lifted his palms, saying with a smirk and a nod to Austin.

"I have a couple of prototypes inside my bot shop for your new state-of-the-art spy cams. I need more parted. The equipment is going to be very astronomically expensive traveling to the lunar moon will be cheaper, Tom." Stu nodded to Austin.

Austin narrowed his eyelids at Tom.

"I'll cover it." Tom viewed Austin, since Sawyer had crossed the line of reason, maybe justice. Spying was only illegal, if caught. Tom's working lawyers were very smart and very cautious. Tom worried more about Katt and her trial rather than some under-trained attorneys snooping around restaurants and apartments for a childish name-calling stunt.

Stu shook his baldness swinging and moving out the room.

Frank and Austin stared at Tom and pivoted together, moving out the room too.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, looking to see all the empty chairs.

6:09 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home on Tom and Jane living room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Jane read the paper, looking up with a smile to see the nose profile on Tom. "Sweetheart, why don't you assist Jace by utilizing other qualified medical researchers in solving Mouse's mysterious medical condition? Medical researchers enjoy figuring out tough clinical puzzles for money in the format of free monies from either the US Federal Government or a private donor like us," grinned.

"Free money?" Tom looked up with a puzzled brow to see her.

"You could employ three or four different medical researchers to assist Jace with his work divvy it up into unrecognizable parted like a great big weird science project. And we pay them millions of dollars. They'll do the work both quickly and swiftly like in rocket ship light speed flying mode. You'll get your answers to solve Katt's mysterious disease saving her life, before the trial even begins." Jane smiled at Tom.

Tom dropped his mouth with a smile, "Brilliant idea. What would I do without you, Jane sweetheart? You're my honey bee queen." Jane smiled as Tom stood, scooting to her. "I'll talk with Jace about your wonderful idea, right now," he kisses her lips and smiled. "I love you, Jane sweetheart."
Friday June 25th

7:07 a.m.

Brickell Avenue, downtown Miami (four miles north of Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Sarah Spyder

Living room setting

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy

Each police officer wore a pair of sunglasses, a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored trousers, and a pair of boat shoes, slowly marching out from the elevator unto the seventeen floor and turned to the right, moving down a hallway, surveying the grass, the street, the house, and the sky with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan, stopping on the closed door with a stern face to Miami-Dade police officer. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade homicide police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion without makeup.

The uniform police officer stood in front of the closed archway with a stern face, turning to open the door. "You may enter inside, detectives. This laptop contains a set of the most recent information about the deceased woman. The crime scene has not been disturbed. All the photographs are taken. Please add your comments into the computer about the crime scene and return to me." He extended the computer to Loree.

Loree accepted and cuddled the laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a smile, snapping his fingers. "I heard music. Is that jazz playing over the speakers from the wall? It was built into this fantastic room."

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, moving behind Loree into the living room.

The apartment suite was two rooms, a grand room with a kitchen and a bedroom.

Loree halted, turning and handed the computer to his partner Hardy.

Hardy accepted the computer, moving and stood in front of the long counter inside the kitchen and lifted the lid, pressing the button and read the information about the dead girl.

Loree moved and stood in front of a curved window with a smile. "Wow, this view is great from her apartment on Brickell Avenue. Brickell Avenue is a set of high-rise residential apartment towers between the road and the Biscayne Bay I can almost see a set of tiny people on the sandy golden beaches of Key Biscayne. Biscayne Bay is a lagoon that is about thirty-five miles long and up to eight miles wide right on the Atlantic coast of South Florida. The bay lies between the Miami Beach barrier island and the mainland of Miami, going all the down to the northernmost of the Florida Keys.

Hardy read the information from the computer. "Her name is Sarah Spyder. She is single, lives alone. She does not own a car. She is twenty-nine years old. She does not have a college degree. Her parents do not live in the United States but the country of France."

He turned and moved, stopping and stood in front of the dead body. The body sat upright on an ass, staring at the far wall like she was talking to someone invisible. "Let me guess? She is a tennis instructor.

Hardy read the information from the laptop. "She is a tennis instructor. She owns the apartment which is part of her benefits of her job as the tower's head tennis instructor.

"Yeah, there is a tennis ball inside her cupped hand. Who find her?"

She scanned the computer file and stopped, reading the information from the laptop. "One of her students, he knocked on the door. The door creaked open. Then he entered and saw her on the sofa."

Loree frowned down at the dead girl. "Well, this is the third dead girl who is sitting upon her ass inside her privately own residence, talking to the wall. I am beginning to wonder if the same boyfriend had multiple tastes. This girl is dark skinned with long blonde hair. So far, each dead is different from each other in manners, style, careers, and hair color."

She nodded with a stern face. "Yeah, we have a new mysterious murderer of three girls. He could be one of the tennis students that live here. I finished typing our comments into the computer. Let's go and grab some breakfast and watch the seagulls for a little while. Then we'll return back to headquarters and see if the team of junior detectives have uncovered a new information." Hardy turned with a stern face and moved to the closed door.

The door opened.

She moved outside into the hallway, handing the laptop to the police office. "Thank you. We have updated the laptop with our observations. Please send it to the homicide division at the downtown Birmingham police headquarters."

Hardy moved and pulled up beside her partner Loree with a smile and a nod. "You can bring inside the forensic team to dust the place for prints. Have a nice morning, officer."

Hardy and Loree moved and stopped, standing in front of the elevator.

The doors opened.

They entered and left the building in downtown Brickell Avenue.

8:01 a.m.

City of Athens in US State of Georgia (675 miles north from Miami)

Professor Fabian Icarius

Physics classroom setting

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy

He sat and saw the different talent of many resumes even a few in colorful childish crayons as she walked into his classroom. He sincerely and seriously wanted to impress upon her that Fabian had been interviewing students all morning which was false. "Good morning, Athena."

"Good morning, Dr. Icarius," She stood.

He smiled. "Have a seat, Athena."

"Okay..." Athena sat. She needed a job, since she didn't have any blood relatives in Georgia.

"You're been selected, Athena." Fabian smiled at her hair roots.

"I have." Athena leaped out of chair with a smile.

"However, I must inquire seriously, Athena. Are you really interested in working in Miami on a temporary internship? I'm looking for a dictated and hardworking individual and not someone to lie around the pool and smoke cigarettes."

"I didn't smoke nasty cigarettes. But I'm very serious about my new career. I have an accounting degree and passed my CPA test. I'm now an official Certified Public Accountant for the State of Georgia. I'm very much so interested in the internship. Also I don't have family here. I'm open to new travels and adventure. Miami sounds like a fun place to start my new life."

"You sound like the perfect candidate for my internship program, Athena. This is going to be a very nice adventure with lots of new surprises for the both of us." He smiled.

"I'm ready." Athena nodded.

"Excellent. Can you 'arrive alive' at this address by July sixth, Tuesday. Be ready to work your first job?" He handed the paper.

"The first day of July, of course, that gives me plenty of time to pack and clear my affairs in Athens."

"Your job begins as soon as you arrive alive in Florida. Don't worry. I'll give you the holiday pay as well to start the week off right. This is the address of your new apartment complete with simple furnishings, one bed, one table, four chairs, one medium plasma television, of course. This is the new address for your employment, The Consulting Firm. What do you think, Athena?" Fabian smiled.

"I think that I need to feed the parrot and cancel the newspaper." Athena giggled with nervous energy.

Fabian stood with a chuckle and a hand shake, "A sense of amusing humor, as well as, good looks." Athena stood and shook his hand. He smiled. "You have everything you need. I or my representative will be meeting you on Tuesday morning at our new office. I'm your new business mentor. I will be guiding you the entire path of your finance internship. Do not worry about a thing. Let me do the worrying. I am the boss and the big man on campus so to speak."

Athena smiled with excitement. "Okay, Professor Icarius. This is so thrilling."

Fabian wiggles an index finger in her face. "You're in the working world now, so call me Fabian or boss which ever suits your fancy. Congratulations, Athena! We're going to develop a great partnership. You are a VIP member of my money auditing team."

Athena nodded with a smile and turned, leaving the room.

Fabian's plan was in locomotion, since Athena had accepted his new money deal at his new company this week along with his new partner Ned Nessle.

Now, Fabian was packing up and moving to Miami, Florida which was 675 miles south of Athens, Georgia to become a billionaire.

8:11 a.m.

City of Miami Shores (668 miles south from Athens)

USA Correction Institution for Women

Containment Cell setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Tom stood in his new leathers at the entrance door of the Miami Dade County Correction Institution for Women, looking for the man, and mumbled with fighting fury. "Asswipe's late. Not impressed."

The scanning electronic eye caught a solo object, sounding with a ping, signaling the computer in the lobby space. Then the computer automatically rebooted the laser beam mode which could kill a moving squirrel deader than a door nail, if the mammal stupidly jumped on the edge of the concrete underneath the veranda, then it would be zapped with a twelve feet sizzling red laser beam as it held a weapon of nuts.

Tom smiled at the lovely creative graphic description of the new security spying camera at the prison which was narrated by Stu and he dared not to touch any of the numerous colored knobs, switches or buttons. He allowed the trained technician to handle the heated hardware, who was currently on coffee break at the moment.

However, the QA guards were standing and observing everything, caressing a gun hostler for some fun action.

Stu was beyond brilliant, setting up a new surveillance system in less than a working day for Katt's protection.

Tom wished beyond wishes that someone tried to force their ass through the sealed and bolted door to see the laser light zap their pubic hairs into gray ashes.

He watched the older model car which slow poked down from the street and slowly traveled around the driveway, and finally parked near the prison entrance door, and wished beyond wished that the asswipe ignored the computer voice and tried to force open the sealed entrance door into the prison too.

The court appointed state of Florida employed medical physician was not that dumb of a dumb shit.

Tom viewed his designer wrist watch, growling with fury. "Bastard's late." His court order interview started ten minutes ago as asswipe did this ploy to upset Katt and piss Tom off.

Katt had a very calming demeanor, since she was not upset about any of the upcoming deposition questions, but Tom was pissed beyond the Pluto Ice Belt and planets, and the physician was going to pay dearly for wasting Tom's precious time.

Tom did not have extra time, only extra money.

Case in point, the brilliant creation of the ongoing and continuous SLAPP lawsuits against the district attorney folks, the television media, the churches, the companies of Miami, the citizens of Miami, the residents of the great state of Florida, lots of other people that lived in the United States of America, and some aliens in the boundaries of the Milky Way Galaxy made Tom happy and Seth mad.

Seth did not take kindly to the numerous SLAPP lawsuits, harassment lawsuits, and other legal lawsuits that his busy under staffed and under paid attorneys had to worked, were working, and will to continue to work until the verdict was read on the last day of the murderess trial.

Finally, asswipe moved out of the car, standing with a single clipboard which was tucked under his armpit, moving and observing the electronic security camera. He climbed the step and stopped at the camera, listening to the female voice recording.

Asswipe placed his clipboard on top of the extended tray as the electronic ray inspected the object.

And then a blue light scanned asswipe.

The computer sounded with a ping, showing the word: CLEAR

"Shit." Tom sneered, since asswipe had passed the laser ray.

The door opened.

Two QA guards in their pressed and ironed black uniforms with the company logo of QA stomped between asswipe as they moved and stood in front on Tom.

Asswipe said with a nod and a smile. "Good morning, Sawyer."

"Moron, don't expect you, today?" Tom extended his hand with a grin and a giggle.

He gasped with a sour frown. "Mowran, remember. My name's French." Peter slightly touched the fingers on Tom's handshake and jerked back his hand with a grin, moving and marching around Tom, walking forward to the containment cell as he was the first paid visitor a couple of weeks ago for viewing the girl inside her cage, before the Quartet became her ally for some weird reason.

Two sets of QA guards slid between Peter and Tom, marching in step down an empty hallway.

Peter glanced to see the nose profile on the nearest guard and exhaled with a huff of frustration, and turned with a smile to see the nose profile on Tom. "Your comment's very interesting. I called your business office to confirm our appointment, since my name is on the court appointed deposition list for today."

Tom had started his good morning out by pissing off Peter before starting a series of court appointed depositions, staring with a smile at the far wall. "Don't notice it too busy with too much work for winning my current legal case." He pointed and led around the wall corner, "This way to the interview room."

Peter stopped and stared at the back spine on Tom, wearing a ghostly white face, "Room!?"

Tom stopped and pivoted, smiling with a nod to Peter. "You are conducting a medical interview with Katt at eight. Chop. Chop. Hop to it." He swung around with a wicked grin to the gated sentry booth.

"She's out of the contamination cell?" Peter slowly moved behind Tom, panting with fear.

Sawyer halted at the sentry booth, smiling to the prison guard without words.

The guard opened the gate without being instructed for Jace and the Quartet, since Tom had impressed upon him the important of respect of honor and duty, especially, since that fucking ugly hanging demonstration performed by Seth.

Now, all the prison guards acted very nice, polite and silent to the Quartet and Katt which made everyone happy.

Tom moved ahead of Peter, marching through the sentry gate and down an empty hallway.

Peter slowly moved through the sentry gate and behind Tom, saying with a worried brow of fear. "Tom!?"

"Yes." Tom stopped and swung around to Peter with a smile.

"Is Kattrell inside her containment cell?" Peter said with a worried brow.

"Of course, she is under my direct orders." Tom said with a chuckle and a smile.

Peter cleared his throat, nodding and rattling his clipboard. "All right, proceed..."

Tom swung around and moved down an empty hallway.

Peter pulled up beside Tom with the two QA guards in tow. The QA guards surrounded the both of them as they all walked down the quiet hallway.

Tom turned with a grin to see the nose profile on Peter. "I'm surprised to see ya here."

"We just want through that explanation at the entrance way, Sawyer." Peter viewed the far wall with annoyance.

"I'd have thought that you didn't need the money." Tom smiled.

"Money!?" Peter turned with a confused brow to see Tom.

"Don't want to share? I got that too." Tom turned with a grin to see the far wall.

"Share!?" Peter frowned with irritation.

"You're being paid to do this, right?" Tom stopped in front of the door, smiling. "We're here."

Tom knew that Peter was being paid a nice tidy sum for his official State of Florida medical interview, since Sawyer did this shit all the damn time to defend the sleazy asshole clients at Quartet Assholes, Inc.

Yeah, the ones were on his black marked client list.

Katt was not a marked client or an assholette, a female version of asshole. She was a nice girl in the wrong place, well, a lot of wrong places, all at the wrong times.

Tom sounded with a sigh and stared at Peter. He would assess Katt anyway he felt that would benefit the prosecution's side, but Tom hoped that Mowran was sweating inside his worn and polished leathers.

Tom turned and pointed to the keeper door with the tiny window and numbered entrance pad. "Let's go inside."

"Inside? Is it..." Peter stared at the solid door with fear which held the angel of death and her deadly invisible germs that killed immediately your heart and your soul.

"That's the best way to talk directly with Katt for your vocal interview as dictated by the court ordered deposition. Go inside that locked and sealed door." Tom stepped up the steps and rapped on the metal, moving his finger to the key pad and snapped his fingers. "Shit." He turned with a stern face to see the nose profile on Peter. "I almost forgot, PPE."

Peter turned with a sour frown to see Tom. "Beg your pardon, P and P."

Tom swung around and moved to the Prep Room, opening the door and entering.

Peter slowly turned and followed Tom into the dark room.

Tom moved and grabbed the extra-large sizes of PPE gear from the shelf. "Ya need this."

Peter stood in the archway as Tom pitched numerous yellow clothing items to Peter which was composed of a gown, two booties, two gloves, a skull cap, a N95 mask, an oxygen tank, two blankets, and a bed pan as Peter caught some of the items that didn't hit the tiles. Tom pulled out PPE gears for his body, dressing and saying. "You need all this shit." He quickly draped the PPE gear over his new business suit.

Peter stared at the clothing items between his arms. "All of this, Sawyer."

Tom finished dressing and swung around with a smile to see Peter. "Yeah, all of this shit. Don't wanna catch any bugs, do ya? Take them home to the little wifey." Tom did not know if the son of a bitch had a wife which was probably not, since who would marry him. Tom would not give Peter a stray dog from the city streets of Miami.

"No." Peter stared down at the PPE gear in his arms and on the floor.

Tom moved to the archway, spinning around, staring at the rear skull of Peter. Peter lowered the items to the floor and started dressing. Tom said with a grin. "Excellent. Get dressed. I'll wait outside in the hallway for you to enter the second contamination room."

"Second room!?" Peter dropped the bed pan, turning with a worried brow to Tom.

"Have to be careful of them bugs?" Tom said with a nod and a smile.

"Bugs, big or little?" Peter dropped his mouth.

"Both." Tom swung around and moved out of the Prep Room and to the keeper door, standing and looking down with a grin and a giggle at his yellow booties, swaying back and forth waiting for Peter.

Peter slowly limped on his yellow booties across the hallway and stood behind Tom.

Tom turned and tapped in the secret code to the numeric pad.

The door cracked opened.

Tom felt the fresh air and jerked the door open.

Peter back stepped, dropping the oxygen tank to his foot and retrieved before it hit the ground, observing the PPE gear on Tom which consisted of a gown, a pair of gloves, and a pair of booties. He said with an annoyed brow to the back spine on Tom. "Where is your...?" He dropped all the items that Tom was not carrying or wearing.

Tom giggled, moving and entering the cave, dashing down the familiar cool gray tunnel to the containment alone.

Peter slowly walked and examined the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and saw that the electronic laser boxes were mounted in the wall corner.

Tom entered the containment chamber, moving and scooting two chairs in front of the mirror, seeing Katt through the two-way glass.

Katt sat in a pink flowered-pattern loveseat with a matching ottoman that held her bare feet, since Tom had personally selected and paid for the pretty pieces for her at the prison. A stack of papers stood on each one of her armrests as her foot slowly tapped from a loud song on the new boom box, all gifts from Tom.

Katt pecked the computer keyboard and tossed her arm, waving them back and forth, tapping her naked foot to the snare drum sound.

Tom smiled and viewed her.

Katt had requested a tube of pink lipstick and a bottle of pink nail polish which Misty had help acquire along with the basic items of food, water, blankets, and pillows.

Tom purchased the numerous CDs, containing the musical bands from present to the past of the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, too.

Katt had accepted all her tiny gifts with both grace and kindness and smiled and thanked Tom, staring each object with care and interest. From the tiny bits of data gathered from Katt's personal interviewed about her childhood in Boyer, her long working hours at the various Charity Hospitals, and her simple life in Miami, Tom had concluded that Katt had never received true gifts.

Tom felt sad as he remembered his happy and joyful childhood of numerous gifts during the holidays, the birthdays, the Christmas times, well, it was anytime for the only child of Mrs. And Mrs. Thomas Sawyer, Junior. He recalled at the age of thirteen years old, working at a charity event for his mom and learned that all kids were not like him.

Some kids did not have enough food to eat much less possessed hundreds of electronic games, CDs, and electronic gadgets which were scattered around his private west wing inside the multimillion dollar mansion of his parents. And Katt was one of these unfortunate kids in America.

The many SLAPP lawsuits was going to make Katt a billionaire by the time this murderess trial ends, since Tom had personally sued every son of bitch and daughter of bastard who dared to whisper her name in any vulgar context or writing her name in a nasty article as the spying lawyers trailed, recorded, photographed, taped, and stole every piece of evidence even from the shitty bathrooms.

Tom had so far sued churches, preachers, deacons, schools, administrators, hospitals, executives, vendors, lawyers, reporters, writers, politicians, and Tom, Dick and Harry of any bodies of the world. Hell. Tom had pounced some lawsuits against some actors and actresses in Hollywood, gently rubbing Katt's clean name into the golden sands of California.

Now, some of QA lawyers, who had possessed an emotional point of view earlier, had come back belly-crawling and ass-waggling back to kiss Tom's new leather tips as they begged and cried to be a part of the public people-hating murderess case of two centuries.

Lawyers were truly blood sucking leeches as termed by brother Frank.

All lawyers were sleazy blood sucking vampires and vampirettes, but Tom did not give a shit and willingly accepted their help as he needed all the extra feet, hands, eyes, and minds. His law staff was so creative, inventive, and innovative that Tom had been awarding post-bonuses from his personal bank account, since Austin had made it damn clear that Quartet Associates paid only the regular scheduled QA worker of productive, sick, and vacation time and not the spy time plus bonuses.

Tom had never lost a legal case, vowing never to lose, especially this nasty hateful murderess case.

People could be so mean, since Tom dealt with a set of rude and insensitive assholes on a daily basis and he was not referencing Austin, Frank, and Stu either. Some of the clients at Quartet Assholes were the sleaziest sons of bitches and daughters of bastards in the world, especially the Saudis. They would kill each other in hot steaming blood over Holy prayer.

Because of the nasty, violent, and repetitive Middle Eastern behavior, Tom had developed a simple formula for each Saudi legal case, defense or offense mode which was called revenge.

A Saudi translator would say done in the name of revenge to a Saudi judge during a QA legal trial each and every time as Tom stood beside the guilty party with a smile and a nod.

Tom was required as the head attorney to jet over to the country of Saudi Arabia when a QA client was killed and then prosecuted the guilty bastard for the Quartet revenge. If the QA client committed the actual murder in self-defense and Tom walked a straight line into one-man court room, whispering like a lover to the Saudi translator revenge, then the judge favored the QA client with a not guilty plea, every damn time.

That was the strangest damn thing for Tom's brain cells mentally to absorb, physically to see, and literally to fill Tom's personal bank account.

Quartet Associates charged the QA client for Tom's travel, worked hours, and expenses, such as, the hotel nights, the limousine rides, the QA security guards, the food tables, and the tons of alcohol plus miscellaneous costs. In case of a QA client death before, during, or after the murder trial, Quartet Associates still collected all their financial and legal fees for the protection service as stated in the legal contracts.

If Tom won the legal case, he collected a victory fee for his law service through a secret tradition started by his father. His father had loved indulging in pretty and beautiful toys of objects, such as, expensive art, classical music and other tangible pleasures and no other females, only things, but beautiful things cost more money than ugly things.

Every time the father on Tom won his legal case, he received extra cash on the side from the grateful QA client. Berrington, the third didn't give a shit if Sawyer, Junior filled his personal bank account as long as the Quartet had received their big fees and split the profits by fourths.

Tom enjoyed collecting the money, feeling that the extra cash represented his hard work of his brilliant self, his sacrifice from his wife, and his reputation with the sleazy bastards. Tom had developed a simple matrix based on the family hierarchy of father, mother, sister, brother, grandmother, grandfather, and etc.

When a top family member was prosecuted, the person paid the highest money fee to Tom, based on the investigative worked hours, amounts of blood, degrees of arrest, the swiftest arrest, and etc.

For example, a swift arrest by the police of a close family member with tons of blood and an immediate death sentence cost one billion dollars and the lump sum flat fee was paid directly to Tom, winning or losing the legal case. After that high standard, Tom discounted his legal fee.

Currently, his victory fee hovered around the ninety fifth percentile range, providing an extra nine billion dollars in cash and tax free per year into Tom's personal bank account in the Cayman Islands.

If his brothers ever found out, they would shit a load bricks, but Frank knew about the victory fee and he knew better about keeping his gawd damn mouth shut as the CPA with detailed daddy-instructions from his father.

Mangrove, Junior had whispered into his son's eardrum. "Done for Thomas, the second, so it was to be done for Thomas, the third."

Tom guessed that Frank was jealous and purposefully gave Sawyer a hard time about shit, all the shitting time.

Stu would be jealous also, beating the hell out on Tom's healthy breathing body, if Gage knew the deep dark secret.

Austin would pull out a real hand gun from his bedroom closet and start shooting, missing Tom's vital body parts, of course, but still bullets hurt and stung.

Currently, the financial numbers were swiftly decreasing inside Tom's bank account as he paid for the money bonuses to the sneaky shitty sleazy lawyers, the gawd damn expensive gadgets thingies which were created and developed by Stu along with the on-going costly SLAPP court fees which took Seth's ass to civil court on a daily basis. Plus, Sawyer paid the pre-awarded bonuses to his lawyers for finding information from local snitches to nasty informants who lived under the Miami River Bridge. At the end of this fucking murderess trial, Tom will rank as the "poorest" billionaire of Band of Brothers.

Frank spent money like a fire truck expanded fresh water on a chemical warehouse fire, so far, ranking currently as the "poorest" billionaire in the Quartet. He brought millions of dollars of jewelry for Misty Marie, making her look great in her glittering gems and cute designer outfits.

Some asshole was going to kidnap her one day for her million dollar stones. Tom should mention that slightly predictable incident to Stu, since Mrs. Franklin Mangrove needed more invisible bodyguards.

However, Tom complained night and day to Jane about his huge money expenses from his bank account, since she hugged and kissed his face for support and comfort.

Jane had whispered, "Every penny is worth spending to save Katt's life."

Jane was right as usual being the conscious that he lacked. She was the steeple on the church. She was the hammer in the anvil. She was the rock and Tom loved her, so much.

All the talk of death and life had made Tom think about children and it did not help that Jane whined and nagged for a child, since she was lonely for him.

Tom spent his time from sunrise to sunset on the murderess case, managing the lawyer staff of issues both emotional and legal, as well as, paying the outrageous financial invoices. And he personally visited Katt every day for an hour, bringing her little precious gifts. Tom did not want Katt to feel lonely as he faithfully obeyed the hard-ass vocal commands by Austin.

Sawyer also had to travel to the secret laboratory at Miami Shores in Austin's limo with his brothers and listen to Jace and Frank bark, drool, and spit out with their medical garbage terms that non-medical assholes like Austin could not comprehend.

Hourly, Tom stared at all the telecommunications shit that Stu produced from vocal testimonies, eye witnesses accounts, and other nonsense media blitzes along with more horse shit upon horse shit from the internet blogs, television programs, telephone messages, fax machine spits, and email from all executive desks in his executive office on the thirty third level of Quartet Associates, Inc. in downtown Coral Gables.

Tom delegated barely a tea leaf of vital information to his junior lawyers, since they lacked a hard core experience to see through the legal bullshit. The senior lawyers were out of the office, tailing people for squirrel shit as the day went faster than summer heated lightning.

At evening time, Tom was both tired and worried, since the murderess trial started soonest.

Seth had lined up tons of evil witnesses against Katt with a shit load of people, who would testify, lie, fib, and just plain talk mean about Katt.

Tom's job was to figure out how to make them look like a bunch of shit squatting monkeys. Jane had been a big help, analyzing the prosecution's strategies and coached Tom each night on the defense measures and offense countermeasures.

Tom would really be lost without Jane and planned to surprise Jane with a trip to New Zealand for the two of them, creating a baby.

She wanted a child and Tom wanted to be a father.

Lawyers were the cutie pies of the public's eyeballs, but people saw, talked, and remembered them on a daily basis. Some lawyers craved the television media and public attention, but Tom did not give a shit happy as the head lawyer of Quartet Associates.

Stu's job. He used his geek toys to pull data for any future, current or former QA client. Then Tom and his fifty-five lawyers read all that shit on an hourly, daily or monthly basis depending on the availability, security, and risk of client. If one current QA client did something illegal, Quartet Associates had to know about it and sometimes stopped it, legally, since all legal stuff was totally Tom's job.

Frank's job. Frank, and his forty-nine accountants, watched and monitored any and all illegal checking, unauthorized accounting, and non-audited financial records at Quartet Associates and for the QA clients. If Frank saw any invalid, inaccurate or improper money transaction and Tom's lawyers and Frank's accountants would become involve and work as a two-man team. They hit the QA client or non-QA business establishment with legal warrants, subpoenas, and writs to audit cash and investigate the Company's financial policies, maybe throwing in some legal lawsuits. Some the current clients hated the Quartet.

However, business was business.

The Quartet was out to make money and not to turn the other cheek.

Austin's job. If the QA client did not remove the wrongdoing or clean up their criminal act, Austin became involved. And Badass Berrington was not pleased to do that either. His nasty reputation prevailed with a single word by telephone or an upright index pointed to the face. If Austin fuckingly appeared in your board room or your bed room, then holy shit hit the heavenly fan as they will say your funeral, pal.

Tom turned with a grin to see him.

Peter stood in front of an empty chair behind the window, wearing his precious yellow baby duckling clothing.

Tom held his snicker and did not desire to give away the funny punch line.

Peter was dressed in two gowns over his business suit, three sets of baby booties on his leathers, and donned three caps over his graying-brown hair roots, and three pairs of oversized gloves over his naked pale hands. The first set of gloves was slipping off the second set of rubber gloves. Peter wore the N95 mask which covered his nose and his mouth and he did not drag inside the oxygen tank, the blankets, and the bed pan for Tom's enjoyment. He had tucked the clip board under his armpit, staring with a puzzled brow at Katt through the two-way mirror.

If an air pressure breach occurred, Katt would not be rescued from her glass box, since the poorly paid prison guards had been ordered not to help. So Stu and Frank had hired and trained a new set of QA medical technicians who were certified in CPR techniques and life-saving triage procedures as they sat in a secret lounge room beside the containment box and wore full PPE gear, drinking coffee, and reading comic books, patiently waiting if something went deadly wrong.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration and glanced with a side look-see to Peter, and he had received a series of obnoxious rude voice messages from Peter on his personal mobile phone, his QA business landline telephone, his QA fax machine, and his QA emails. And all had pissed off Tom's dick. So Tom had spent the previous three sunny days, outlining and preparing for the embarrassment of Peter and not for the guard's pleasure but for Katt's enjoyment plus Tom's fun.

Tom switched to a stern face, patting the head rest of the empty chair beside him as Peter waddled to the seat. Tom sat and leaned over, pressing the button, looking with a smile to see Katt.

Katt heard the ping of the microphone and looked up with a smile to see Tom who sat behind the two-way mirrors, smiling and waving, and stood from her chair. She moved and sat in the loveseat like Tom had taught her over the past few days. Katt said with a smile and a nod. "Hi, Tom." She viewed Peter with a smile and a nod too.

Tom pointed to the yellow skull cap of Peter with a smile and a nod to Katt. "This is Moron..." Katt smiled.

Strike one.

"Mo...r..." Peter ripped out the N95 breather from his face, tossing the devise to the floor, looking up with a sour frown and a sour tone to see Katt. "I am Dr. Peter Mowran from the state of Florida governor's office in Tallahassee. I am a licensed psychiatrist and an appointee that had been hand-selected by the Florida governor to ask you twenty-five pre-submitted and pre-prepared questions," he viewed Tom with a sneer. "She did receive the questionnaire that I prepared. Correct, Sawyer?"

"Yipe. Get started. Don't have all day, Moron." Tom looked down with a grin to see his designer wrist watch as he acted out his role from in his practiced script, and looked up with a wink to Katt.

She smiled with a giggle.

Strike two.

"Mowran. Get it right, Sawyer," Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing the nose profile on Tom.

"Yeah, I forget. Sorry." Tom viewed his wrist watch and viewed Katt with a grin and a wink again.

"Miss Kattrell, let us begin with question number one. How do you feel?" Peter looked down with a sour frown and posed the pencil on top of his paper underneath the clip board.

"Fine," Tom said with a wink and a grin to her.

Katt smiled with a back nod to Tom and viewed Peter, saying with a smile and a nod. "Fine."

Strike Three.

"Good." Peter scribbled onto the clip board. "Second question, are you afraid?"

Katt viewed Tom with a smile and a nod as Tom said with a grin and a wink to Katt. "No."

Katt smiled with a nod back to Tom and viewed Peter with a smile and a nod. "No."

Peter did not scribble down the response, lifting and slapping the clipboard on his kneepads, turning with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Tom, sneering. "You answered the question for her. You aren't supposed to do that, Sawyer."

"I didn't." Tom said with a grin and a nod to Katt.

Peter said with a sour tone to Tom. "You did too. Stop it, Sawyer. I order you to refrain from talking while I finish asking Miss Kattrell my list of medical questions. You're interfering with my medical interview. I'm running out of time," he viewed Katt. "Third question, are you healthy?"

"Yes." Tom said with a grin and a wink to her.

Katt smiled with a nod back at Tom and viewed Peter with a smile and a nod. "Yes."

Peter turned with a sour tone to Tom. "What's your fucking problem, Sawyer? You answered her question for her."

It was time to nip this interview into Peter's asshole as Tom turned with a smile and a nod to see Peter. "I am advising my client of her options to the questions. Katt can answer the question anyway she wants."

"I don't hear options. I'm hearing one worded responses to my questions. Let's try this once, again." He turned with a sour frown and a sour tone to see Katt. "Miss Kattrell, please answer my question. You are healthy. Will you please elaborate to me using nouns, verbs, and adjectives clarifying your medical condition?" Katt turned with a smile and a nod to see Tom. Peer yelled at her with fury. "Didn't look at him! Look at me and answer the damn question in your own words, young lady?"

"Fine." Tom narrowed his eyelids to Katt.

Katt turned and narrowed her eyelashes to Peter. "Fine."

Peter slapped the clip board, turning with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Tom. "Damn it, Tom. You've interfered and harassed me on this medical evaluation. I'm going tell Seth informing him of your fluxing maneuver."

Tom stared and saw the worried brow on Katt, saying to Peter. "Go ahead. My legal client will not answer any questions without me being present. Furthermore, I will not allow my client subjected to curse words, rude behavior, and authoritative indignation," He turned with a sour frown and a nod to see Peter. "Tell these big words to Hamilton also. You're running out of time, moron." He smiled, looking down to see his designer wrist watch.

"Mowran." Peter said with a sour tone to Tom.

"Choose? Finish your remaining twenty-two questions with Katt, while I watch, listen, and advise or leave. Decide? I don't have all day with your play games." Tom sneered.

Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, frowning with fury, since Tom had won this little battle. In a standard murder trial inside a standard jail house with a standard nurse observing, Peter could conduct a psychological evaluation as the defense lawyer listened on a speaker conference room telephone two office doors away from the interviewee. However, this was not a standard trial, jail, or lawyer. Peter would tattle to Seth but it did not matter now, since the court ordered deposition was today for thirty minutes for gathering and observing the caged girl's physical, mental, emotional, and psychological behavior patterns as Peter was a licensed psychiatrist.

Kattrell was a pretty puppet on Tom's hand strings in Sawyer's staged dog and pony show, so Sawyer was not going to let Kattrell do or say or perform any minor trick without his approval.

Peter stood, exhaling with a huff of frustration as Tom stood, holding his snicker. Peter said with an evil smirk to Tom. "You're in big shitting trouble, Sawyer. Ya better be getting a lawyer for your person, too? The US federal circuit judge is not going to tolerate your selfish, childish, and stupid antics inside his courtroom. You'll find yourself in jail for contempt and who'll defend her fanny," he turned with a chuckle and a wink to see Katt.

She gasped with a sad face behind the window.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, pumping his hands open and shut into two fighting fists, seriously desiring to shove these arrogant words back down Peter's throat and use his two lethal hands to strangle the words back up Peter's esophagus. Then Peter would vomit them onto his worn dull brown business suit.

Katt had answered the court ordered medical questionnaire, so far. However, Peter's nasty verbal reaction had upset Katt, since Katt trusted Tom as both a friend and a lawyer. Peter had stabbed at Tom's lawyer legal abilities to protect and defend Katt and he had attacked Tom too.

Tom had never received a contempt charge from any judge or served any time in a jail cell and he knew Cutter's tough guy reputation, since Cutter liked...naw...loved giving out contempt charges for the smallest annoying silly distraction in his courtroom.

Seth would use Cutter's behavior to his advantage over Sawyer. However, Tom was too smart and slick for Seth in any USA or foreign court room setting.

However, the prison playground was neutral here.

Tom could not dictate to Mowran only to the assigned prison guards. Tom turned with a sour frown to see Katt as she pouted her lips with a sound of light sobs over the microphone.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, feeling depressed and hated it when girls cried, swinging his sour puss frown to see Peter, tapping on the diamonds inside his wrist watch, and growled. "I see that your time is up, moron."

"Mowran. Get it right." Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, frowning with fury.

Tom stared at his watch and back to Peter with a sneer. "The time's twenty-six minutes after eight o'clock. You can ask one more question," he narrowed his eyelids. "Your draw, Peter?"

Peter slid the chair away from his body, saying with a smirk, swinging away from Tom, and moved through archway. "Forget it. I have what I came for. Do not believe that your cute mind games have detoured me from my real purpose here. I am a trained psychiatrist using my eyes, ears, and mind."

Tom viewed Peter's yellow colored ass leave the room, saying with a furious brow and a matching tone. "Good. And your trained psychotic mind should be telling ya that your time is up. Change your gear. I'll escort you out of the prison building," he turned with a nod and a fake smile to see Katt, "Good girl. You did very well. I'll see you in a little bit, Katt sweetheart," he turned and raced after Peter, moving through the cave and out the containment cell, walking across the hallway and into the Prep Room. He quickly changed out of his used PPE gear.

Peter ripped off his PPE clothes and moved from the Prep Room and into the hallway, leading to the direction of the sentry gate and booth, since Peter had memorized the prison map from his mobile telephone, yesterday.

Tom dropped his used PPE clothes on the floor, moving and racing out the Prep Room to catch up with Peter, and motioned with his hand to the set of six QA guards. The four QA guards surrounded Peter, stepping in sync with his footfalls as Tom chuckled, scooting ahead of Peter, grinning and giggling with happiness.

"Is this really necessary?" Peter glanced to see a set of three big tall muscular men, walking beside him and behind Tom to the sentry gate.

"Prison contamination protocol number thirteen, sir," the QA guard said with a nod and not a smile, since Tom had practiced, tortured, and rehearsed these six QA guards for their single performance in the slick Quartet side show for three days.

Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, dashing faster to the Sentry Gate with his assigned body guards. "You believe that I feel like a fucking prisoner. I do not. You're in deep horseshit now, Sawyer," growled.

Tom said with a grin and a nod, leading down an empty hallway to the sentry booth.

The gate arm was down.

The QA guards halted with Peter.

Tom turned with a grin and pointed to the prison guard.

The gate arm rose.

Tom moved ahead to the empty lobby, standing beside the QA guard, who handled the new surveillance system as Peter moved and stopped at the closed door without words or looking at Sawyer. Tom stared at the ass of Peter and growled to the guard. "Open the door. Our guest is leaving but be very certain to track his car to the highway just in case..."

"Yes sir. The laser beam is armed and ready, sir. "The QA guard viewed the computer screen.

Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, watching the steel door crack open and moved into the sunlight.

Tom watched the ass of Peter scoot in the sun and into his older automobile, whispering for his eardrums only. "Fucking asshole, don't mess with me or my kitty Katt, ever."

3:58 p.m.

City of Miami Springs (10 miles northwest from Miami Shores)

Secret laboratory setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Under the orders of Austin, the Quartet attended another medical session with the medical physicians Frank and Jace, who were working together to figure out the medical condition of Katt.

"Nell's condition?" Frank stepped with a smile through the laboratory door, moving and standing next to Jace at the laboratory counter.

"Who's Nell?" Tom moved behind Frank, sitting his ass on the sofa, reaching and grabbing a cold soda out from the baby refrigerator between the furniture pieces.

"The FBI had finally IDed the ugly babe." Stu moved behind Tom into the room and pointed to the dead girl underneath the coffin, sitting his ass inside an oversized chair which was beside the sofa with Tom, and sipped on his hot green teacup. He placed his computer bag next to the chair and never left home without it.

"Ya mean to say the bloated smelly doggie bag." Tom fist-bumped with a smile to big bro Stu.

Frank stood in front of the coffin. "Shut up Thomas and Stuart. Nell's condition, Jace?"

Tom raised his arm, feeling good with pissing off Peter, finishing the medical questionnaires with the nice professional physicians, and watching Katt giggle behind the window. "I know. I know. Let me answer that one. She's dead. And I figured that out all by myself without three years of med school, ya'll," he high five hand slapped with Stu again with a chuckle.

Austin moved last into the laboratory room and sat on the sofa. "Nell wasn't a healthy girl. She was very pale when I first met her at the beach house."

"Deathstalker." Jace fiddled with the laboratory test tubes and turned with a smile to see Austin, Tom, and Stu.

"Great term, Jace. I should've thought of that. She's a death stalker like a vampire stalker." Tom laughed.

"Vampirette stalker, the female version." Stu chuckled with Tom.

"What's a Deathstalker?" Frank said with a puzzled brow, reading the newest lab reports for both females from Jace.

Stu lifted and pulled out his laptop, typing and reading out loud. "The anaroid is called Leiurus quinquestriatus aka Deathstalker scorpion, a species of scorpion and a member of the Buthidae family. And it is known as a Palestine yellow scorpion, an Omdurman scorpion, and an Israeli desert scorpion. The anaroid is bright yellow in color or sometimes lime green which grows to 4.5 inches in length with a long thin tail and a set of slender pedipalps. A shrimp compared to its big brother in the Sahara Desert. It is found in the desert and the scrubland habitats, ranging from the countries of North Africa to the Middle East to Israel. There are one thousand known species of scorpion with a total of twenty-five Deathstalkers among the group that contain venomous danger to us..."

Jace smiled. "I worked day and night, finding the right venom and right scorpion, the Deathstalker."

"So, Mouse girl ate scorpion poison. Strange, girly." Tom sipped the soda, viewing the dead corpse underneath the clear glass that was blue with black rotting body parts.

"No, Tom. She feed her body with the toxins to infect herself." Jace nodded.

"So she could have yellow skin." Tom smiled, reaching and grabbing an apple from the fruit tray on top of the baby refrigerator.

"I've discovered it after numerous collected and drawn blood tests from numerous sliced and sawed many body particles of Nell. The dead body happens to hold an extreme excess amount of scorpion toxins inside her body." Jace turned and stared at the dead corpse underneath the clear glass.

"Aren't scorpions all poisonous to its prey?" Tom mouth spat food particles over his clothing and the floor, as usual.

"All known scorpion species possess venom located in their sacs which is used to primarily kill or paralyze their prey, so it can be eaten." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

Stu read from the laptop. "Says here, the toxin is also used as a defense against predators. The venom is a mixture of compounds, including neurotoxins, enzyme inhibitors, and other stuff I can't pronounce."

"This particular molecule toxin causes different effects on different animals. The scientific researchers have been fascinated by Deathstalkers for many years. The scorpion toxin is a protein which can be manipulated into a serum." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Forget this shit. What's the point of the Deathstalker, Jace?" Tom mouth spat more food particles over his clothing and the floor, having lots of his own homework to do for Katt's murderess trial.

"The Deathstalker scorpion possesses a natural protein called chlorotoxin. The thirty-six amino acid peptides are found within its venom. The chlorotoxin binds to the glioma cells which allow the development of a series of new medical methods for clinical treatment. The chlorotoxin does not possess a biological trace element meaning the toxin is naturally absorbed into a human body with no marks or bruises or cuts or punctures." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Scorpion proteins heal people?" Stu said with a confused brow, typing for new information.

"The little creatures are used as research for cancer patients." Tom mouth spat more food particles over his clothing and the floor.

"How'da ya know that, baby bro?" Stu turned with a puzzled brow to see Tom.

Frank chuckled, slapping his chest. "I'm the Tele today that I can read Tom's warped mind which comes from all his charity work."

Tom nodded to Frank. "Right-o, smart-ass doctor. Now, back to Nell decaying under the glass."

"The mega doses of bile inside her liver caused an overall yellowing effect throughout her outer skin tone for the obvious reason of imitating Katt in body and in mind for revenge." Jace nodded.

Tom tossed his arm, mouth spitting more food particles. "Wait. Hold up. Ya telling me that the smelly yellow doggie bag killed all 8,063 victims?"

"That would be a fair assumption." Jace nodded.

"Un-legal accusation without physical proof, Jace." Austin said with a confused brow.

"Nell had more of a motive, lots of intent, and a weapon." Frank read the lab reports at the laboratory counter, sitting in the high stool.

"There's no weapon, bro." Stu frowned at the nose profile on Frank.

"A hypo needle full of scorpion poison, I would count that as a motive and weapon." Tom wiped off his mouth with the sleeve of his tailor made dress shirt.

Jace raised his hands, saying with a nod and a grin. "Once upon a time, there were two females named Katt and Mouse who displayed the same height, same weight, same skin tone, and same black hair color..."

"Same liver problem," Stu typed.

"Katt's liver is not problematic. She had a chemical imbalance which is a natural condition probably inherited from her mom or dad's genetic genes." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Nell's liver condition was self-inflicted." Tom stood, dancing side to side, singing with a giggle. "Celebrate. Celebrate. Her self-inflicted days are over and done," he stopped dancing and laughed, turning with a grin to see Jace. "Okay. Okay. Summary. Mouse inflicted her body with scorpion venom to pretend she was Katt. Someone, please tell me fucking why?" he sat and sipped on his beverage.

"Revenge." Stu said.

"Pity." Jace said.

"Hate." Austin said.

"We can't ask the fucking citizens of Boyer, since they are all dead." Stu frowned.

"Gawd, someone give me answers just a hint, please." Tom tossed his arms.

Two knocks attacked the laboratory door.

"The door!?" Tom giggled and pointed to the closed metal door, looking around to see his brothers. "Who's missing? One, two, three, four, and five. We're all accounted for."

"Answer the damn door, Tom." Austin stood and slid an empty chair to the floor, viewing the metal door.

"Me." Tom slapped his chest and viewed Austin.

"Your chair is closest to the door, Tom." Stu grinned, watching the door.

"Are we expecting company?" Frank viewed the door and Austin.

"Yes. We are." Austin smirked, viewing the door. "Open the damn door, Tom."

"All right. All right. I'm standing. I'm opening the door. I'm..." Tom swung the door open and stared, dropping his mouth, back stepping from the archway.

"Hello, gentlemen," the voice said with a smile and a nod to each brother as he moved through the archway.

"Come in, Ethan. Nice to see you, today." Austin patted the back rest of the empty chair which was positioned in front of the sofas, and sitting chairs for the audience of the Quartet.

"Thank you. This is a magnificent scientific laboratory, Austin." Ethan looked around the laboratory, moving to the chair, extending his handshake to Austin.

Austin smiled, shaking and releasing the hand of Ethan.

Ethan stood and removed his business jacket, shouldering it over the back rest of the chair.

Austin said with a smile. "Thanks. We like to keep our little secrets, secret. Would you enjoy a bite of lunch?" Austin thumbed the food table over his collar bone.

Frank stood and moved to sit on sofa, staring at the nose profile on Ethan and Austin.

Jace sat in the high stool, watching the asses of both Ethan and Austin.

Tom back stepped and stared at the nose profile on Ethan, sitting at the eating table, parting his lips in shock.

Ethan sat in the chair, waving off the food offer.

Austin back stepped and sat on the sofa directly across from Ethan, saying with a smile and a nod. "Why don't you share your information, Ethan?"

Ethan exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a nod and a smile to Austin. "Once upon a time, a little girl lived happily in Boyer, a small farm town in the Sunshine State of Florida. Her name was Nell Nan Hartmann who was nicknamed Mouse, because of her petite statue in both height and weight..."

"Your other information?" Austin nodded to Ethan.

Ethan parted his lips and smirked. "Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell was the other little girl in..."

Tom leaped from the table, overturning two chairs, moving and grabbing the fluttering necktie of Ethan, before reaching the throat as Stu moved and captured Tom, hugging into his chest, before killing the elderly man.

Tom wiggled, jabbing all his fingers at Ethan. "Fuck you, asshole. Fuck you, bastard. Ethan knew all along the whole damn time. He set up us, Austin. He visited Boyer ten years ago. He knew Nell and Katt. I bet my billions on it," he panted and inhaled fresh air while locked inside Stu's arms.

Ethan slowly turned with a sad frown to see Tom. "I can see the angry in you, son. I did not know the truth. I investigated a murder case for my personal interest. I met Mr. Hartmann at his privately owned nursing home. He told me the story about his daughter, his wife, his girls, and his dead bodies. He liked to talk about himself and his town. I did not know that his daughter was named Mouse. I..."

Tom wiggled in Stu's arm, jabbing his fingers at Ethan. "Fuck you, asswipe. Ya didn't know that Katt was Miss Kattrell either fat fucking chance? What else have ya fucking forget to tell us, Underhill?" He breathed heavy with fury and worry.

Ethan shook his skull. The Quartet was working and expensing their money, time, energy, and resources, missing the mysterious clue. He stood, placing his jacket over his arm, nodding to Austin. "Good day to you. Good luck, gentlemen."

Stu pulled Tom to the wall corner and away from grabbing at Ethan while locked inside his arms.

Austin stood, escorting Ethan to the door, saying with a smile and a nod. "Thank you for coming, Ethan." He extended his handshake to Ethan.

The door opened.

Stu released Tom as they stood together and saw the QA guard escort.

Ethan shook and released the hand of Austin, turning and seeing his QA escort guard, who had provided his trip from his personal vehicle which was parked on the city street, and moved and left the secret laboratory.

The door closed.

Austin stared at the metal door, turning with a frown to see his brothers.

"He's a spy." Frank stood, staring at the closed door.

"Know that." Tom danced side to side with fighting fury, staring at the nose bridge of Austin.

"He's going to tell the prosecution about us, the lab, and the data." Stu crossed his arms, saying with fury to the nose profile on Austin.

"Know that, too." Tom straightened his bowtie and his jacket, double checking for his Ghost which Stu did not steal, this time.

"Tom doesn't seem very concerned. He didn't shoot his toes off with his Ghost." Frank grinned to Tom.

Tom jabbed a manicured jab with a sneer to him. "Fuck you, Frank. I can't change the past. I only hope that the jury remembers it, differently," he outlined his Ghost inside the jacket pocket.

"Frank, pay this." Jace stood and moved with a smile, handing the papers to Frank's face.

Frank dropped his mouth, accepting and reading the papers. "Jeezus, sixty million, what in the hell for Jace?" He looked up with a sour frown to see Jace.

Jace turned with a smile and a nod to see the nose profile on Tom. "Janey's brilliant idea, I hired the outside researchers to assist me with the complex medical puzzle of Katt and Mouse."

Frank turned and handed the papers to Tom. "Janey is Tom's brilliant wife. Bill her for the sixty million." Tom slapped both hands to his trousers, shaking his bangs and not accepting the financial invoices.

"Janey's smart, Tom." Jace smiled to him.

"Janey's brilliant." Austin nodded and viewed Tom.

"She's married me." Tom smiled and slapped his chest.

"And I sometimes wonder why." Stu laughed, sitting in the chair.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom frowned and viewed Gage.

"Do we pay them, Austin?" Frank viewed the papers again.

"Jace is boss." Austin nodded to him.

Twenty million each!?" Frank looked up with a sour tone to Austin and rattled the papers.

"Those three scientists are internationally world renowned experts in their medical fields of toxins and biological advances of diseases." Jace nodded to Austin.

"Twenty million each!?" Frank said with a sour tone to Austin.

Jace nodded to Austin. "I talked with each personally about..."

"Twenty million each!?" Frank said with a sour tone to Austin.

"Twenty million dollars is a fair price for the swift and secret work, Frank." Jace winked to Austin.

"I feel like we're being robbed by Robin..." Stu stopped typing and looked up with a frown to see the nose profile on Austin.

"Shut up, Stu." Tom frowned and viewed Austin.

"Sorry, Austin." Stu nodded to Austin.

Austin was still overly sensitive and embarrassed about his capture, torture, kidnap, and visit to an isolated limestone cliff in Ruby Beach and was not talking about the messy incident to a brother or a family friend. Stu had learned that Tom was unconscious throughout the entire ordeal until the rescue by him and Frank.

Tom was dehydrated from lack of water and fluids when Tiberius kicked Tom's ass outside onto the brick patio in the boiling sun. Tom had passed out to unconsciousness from both exhaustion and pain when Austin found him at the tiny beach house.

And then Austin saved his life, somewhat.

Austin still felt guilt, angry, and mad at Mouse aka Nell Nan Hartmann. She was the biological daughter of dead Matthew Adams Hartmann, VIII from Boyer, Florida.

However, the evil and vile spirit of Mouse was gone and dead as her decaying yellow and blue tissues of human flash slowly eroded underneath a glass coffin in a secret laboratory in Miami. Austin had purchased the deceased body from the Miami-Dade University School of Medicine for an undisclosed amount of cash as an undisclosed donor and arranged a pre-offered monetary bid for the girl after the county's Miami-Dade lab boys did the biological, chemical, and radioactive laboratory tests. He wrote a personal check for fifty million, hiding the financial dip in his personal bank statement without his brothers' knowledge, since he had personally reasons for buying a dead body while he had been captured, tormented, and sunburned on top of the cliff, figuratively and literally, because the yellow bitch named Nell first tried to kill him and second, she did kill 8,063 souls throughout South Florida.

Frank was not talking, knowing almost everything when he accidentally found the cash dip in Austin's personal bank account. Frank did not fuss or disagree or argue, because Mangrove, Junior had trained his son very well in deep dark secrets. Frank's money wardrobe closet was full of secrets about the old and new Quartets, since Austin knew that Frank privately stored these pieces of data, financial, and economical within his brain cells, foreverly.

Daddy Berrington had informed Austin about the same secret arrangements when he stepped into the leathers of CEO at Quartet Associates.

However, business was business.

The word, quartet meant to shared everything equally in fourths on the surface, only.

Austin had quickly learned as the boss that there existed a top and bottom surface. The rich sun rays fed the fertile soil on the top of the planet for a set of healthy crops, but the underworld was composed of many layers upon layers of minerals, hiding in dirty, smelly, and foamy shit. Austin could not change the soil that lived and thrived underground in hell, so he left it to flounder or thrive as needed, since he used the same concept in this delicate medical murderess case. He greatly desired Nell's dead and decomposing body tested, experimented, analyzed, examined, and re-examined to find the answer and solve Katt's mysterious medical condition.

Mouse was the key to unlocking this medical mystery.

"Pay it." Austin said with a stern face.

"Tom, learn this." Jace slapped the papers in Tom's face as Tom sneered.

"Who's boss, today?" Stu chuckled.

"Medical shit. That's your area, Jace." Tom raised his hand, shaking his bangs and did not touch the papers.

Jace slapped the paper in Tom's chest, saying with a serious tone. "You will need it for her defense case. Don't memorize it. Learn it, Thomas."

"Fine." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, grabbing and stuffing the papers in his briefcase, moving and leaving the laboratory to meet Jane for the dinner and dance charity ball tonight.

7:26 p.m.

Charity Children's Gala

MIAMI HOTEL (15 miles north from Coral Beach)

The Quartet eating table

Full moon night with bright stars and humid temperatures

The Quartet dressed and drove inside their individual limousines to the elegantly ball. Each Quartet coupled posed for the photographers and entered the elegant room, sitting at their assigned eating table which was in the front and near the wall and out of the way from nosy and curious guests.

"You look nice, Thomas. New tux?" Frank stood at their VIP of the dinner and dance charity event which raised money for the Miami Dade-County Children's Hospital.

Tom slumps into Jane's shoulder as she patted his face.

Frank narrowed his eyelids to an empty spot which was located above the eating plate on the eating table. "No liquor, Tom. What's wrong?"

Tom viewed the tablecloth, saying with a sad pout and a sad moan. "Can't drink? Can't eat? Can't think of anything but her? Katt in jail, while we party."

"We're not partying. This event was scheduled a year ago." Stu stared at Tom. "Hell. We're the guests of honor, Tom. Chill out. Here, bro, have my bourbon. I'll get another." Stu slid the beverage to Tom.

Tom grabbed and griped the wet glass, slowing lifting and slowly sipped on the whiskey, slowly dropping the beverage, spilling the contents over the tablecloth, exhaling with a huff of worry and sadness.

"Stu, take the drink from Tom, now." Frank viewed the advancing person, turned and viewed Tom, grabbing the beverage from Tom, shifting it to the opposite side out of weapon range.

"Good evening, gentlemen and beautiful ladies." Seth stood and smiled in his worn and polished designer leathers at the Quartet VIP table, scanning each Quartet wife.

Gracie sneered and pirouetted to Stu, standing next to her husband with a sour frown.

Misty Marie smiled at Seth, since she did not have any foes and only friends. If she did have enemies, Frank had eliminated already with his Ghost or his little tap needles. Misty tapped her designer heels to Frank's arms as Frank hugged and kissed her cheekbone.

Jane and Tom sat together in the booth as Jane faked a smile, wrapping her arm around Tom readying for any nasty action, if this slick Southern gent decided on more than a smooth verbal catfight. Jane always carried her lady Ghost, a smaller version the hand pistol of the Quartet in her clutch for any killing emergency.

"Speaking of Rhett Butler?" Stu stared and imitated with a poor southern accent to the nose profile on Seth.

Seth turned with a sour frown and a matching tone to see Stu. "I beg your pardon."

"How did you get an invitation to the Charity Ball, Hamilton?" Frank said with a sneer to the nose profile on Seth.

"Assistant District Attorney Keith Newman had an extra ticket and invited me to attend this grand Gala. Indeed." Seth looked with a smile and a nod to see Misty.

"Indeed." Stu chuckled as Seth frowned and viewed Stu.

Frank laughed

"Fine party, I'm thoroughly enjoying my person, tonight." Seth moved and shifted closer to Tom. "Well, how'da ya think you're doing there, Sawyer?"

Tom looked up with a sneer to see the nose profile on Seth. "Doing like dancing? Like drinking? Like what, US District Attorney?"

"Your progress, of course, on the case, counselor." Seth chuckled.

Tom snarled. "By law, we are not supposed to discuss the case, especially a US federal murder trial, US District Attorney."

He waved his hand to the crowd of people in the room, staring at Tom. "Look around. Everyone's discussing this murder trial. It's the talk of the town. What's a few words between lawyers? Your conservatism isn't going to change the outcome of this murder trial. She is guilty. She will die. I will personally see to that." Seth said with a nod and a smile.

Tom stood, shoving the table forward, rattling the china plates, and narrowed his eyelids at Seth.

Stu moved and held Tom's punching arm before the upcoming paramedics arrived to revive Seth or at least try. No Quartet asshole would provide CPR treatment to an evil man akin to the devil, if Tom happened to get the first and only fist punch, resulting in instantaneous death of Seth.

Austin side stepped to Seth's shadow, growling. "Ya sashayed your ass over here for something." He gritted his teeth into the eardrum on Seth.

"The new evidence." Seth looked around the table with a smirk and a nod.

"What new evidence?" Tom leaned forward with a sneer to Seth.

Frank gently moved Misty Marie and grabbed Tom's other punching arm, since Tom was trained to defend himself, using fists, guns, and any other objects around his tallness.

"The one found, today, at the Coral Gables police station." Seth chuckled, viewing Frank and Austin, and Stu, and finally viewed Tom. "O. That's right. Ya'll probably missed the detailed informational contents of an express package that the police sent to your private business headquarters. I believed it arrived at six this evening, but ya'll boys only worked banker's hours. No weekends unlike me."

"Banker's hours!?" Stu snorted, since the Quartet worked 24/7/365, making and keeping them billionaires.

"Miami's Finest found two dead men. Tiberius described the last two murders committed by Katt. That's her pet name, correct?" Seth chuckled. "Yesterday, inside the back yard of his home in..."

"Sounds like Tiberius had committed each one of those cold-blooded murders, not Katt to the Quartet." Stu grinned to Seth's nose profile.

"The autopsy had revealed a pair of yellow crystallized livers. The medical fact both remains and presents. There are two more dead men with a pair of gleaming bile puss coated livers like Tiberius had vividly described in his legal deposition." Seth said with a nod and a grin.

Frank chuckled. "Tiberius is crazy. He is going into the state mental institution in Tallahassee, after the verdict of Katt is announced."

Seth said with a nod and a grin to Frank. "Yes, I must admit that Tiberius is a fascinating creature. Is he lying? Is he insane? Is he truthful?"

Stu grinned. "Mouse killed those guys and framed Katt while Tiberius buried them in the back yard like a couple of dead dogs all for the money, 150 million dollars."

"Interesting working theory there, sir, but you cannot dismiss the yellow bile." Seth said with a nod and a grin.

Stu said with a smile and a nod. "I'm not discarding the liver condition. Mouse poisoned all the victims with scorpion venom, because of her obsession with hurting, hunting, and killing Katt for revenge of her father's untimely death."

"Really, that indeed is another intriguing theory, sir." Seth said with a confused brow to Stu.

"No theory, buddy. Facts, just plain old medical facts." Stu nodded to Stu.

"You can't possibly prove your medical facts in a court of law." Seth said with a worried brow, hearing the Quartet's new legal defense theory.

"We can. We shall. We will when the time is ripe and right for the Quartet." Stu smiled.

"I find this tidbit of tantalizing data both interesting and formidable, but I will disprove it one way or another, of course. Thanks for the tip, sir." Seth bowed his chin and smile to Tom, pivoting from the Quartet, worming through the crowd of people and yellow bright tablecloths back to his eating table.

Tom slapped the table surface with his fist, saying with a sour frown to Gage. "Stu, why'da ya tell him that secret? He's going to find out when we present that theory in the courtroom in another week. You..."

"Ya rattled him, Stu. Good work." Austin slapped the collar bone of Stu with a nod and a smile.

"I agree. He needed his super-ass ego deflated." Frank slapped the back spine on Stu with a nod and a smile also.

He exhaled with a huff of frustration. "What in fucking hell have I been doing?" Tom said with a sour frown to Austin as Jane stood, cuddling her husband.

"You're the good guy, Tom saving Katt and defending her honor against the bad boys of the world." Austin smiled to Tom.

"Sounds like science fiction to me." Tom shook his bangs.

Austin nodded to Tom. "We work as a team. Stu's the bad boogie man that tears Seth's dreams apart. You're the superhero that saves the girl and the world." He raised his glass for a toast to a great event and a wonderful evening, so far.
Sunday June 27th

9:09 p.m.

Downtown Miami Brickell Avenue (5 miles south of Coral Beach)

Apartment of Ned Nessle living room setting

Hot temperatures with bright stars

Fabian had moved down last week after the conclusion of the Athens University mini-session, quitting his boring academic job.

The newest employee Athena had graduated from the same university last week too, traveling down by car to the Miami for her first real job. The girl was smart, graduating with an accounting degree and had passed the certified public accounting test in the state of Georgia as her grandmother was sick and died two weeks ago.

Athena had settled the property estate with her own set of bad memories, looking for a new set of action adventures in a bigger city with the opportunity to use her accounting degree.

However, Fabian and Nessle had plans with this girl and her superpowers of an invisible and electromagnetic charge from her body. Her invisible electromagnetic charge would make them rich.

But Nessle had to be subtle and proper.

Athena was from a southern family with a set of proper manners, proper habits, and proper speaking. She had to be babied and pampered like a two-year-old.

Nessle didn't mind as Fabian described her as pretty girl with a very nice figure. And Ned had to keep his hands and dick off of her. Fabian had stressed that on a daily basis to Ned, since Athena was the catalyst. She was the tool, not the plaything.

Nessle was the father figure. Fabian was the brother. Both were her new friends in Miami.

So the first bank job was set. The wimpy vice president of the local bank had filled money bags for Monday morning pickup with a total of twenty-five million in the denominations of ones, fives, tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds.

So the money could not be traced, since the randomly collected of money bags for the week represented thousands of people hard earned dollars of deposits in different denominations with different serial numbers. Usually, a private bank branch did not get robbed, but occasionally it was done by a jerk asshole that was caught about twenty minutes later from the bank video surveillance electronic camera equipment, the power of technology in the 21st century.

However, Athena toted around her own power station with a relay charge floating in the air waves.

Nessle exhaled with a huff of worry about everything.

The bank was ready. The bank executive was on vacation with his family on the west coast of Florida. And the pretend bank robbers were hired and ready to go, a gang of teens from the class room or the bedroom of Fabian.

Sex was amazing. It got you anything that you desired in terms of money, drugs, girls, fucked, sucked, jail, and death.

However, Ned Nessle hoped the latter two did not apply tomorrow.

Nessle grew tense with caution and contacted Athena from his mobile phone, after his girlfriend Jetta had fallen asleep inside their shared bed. He was worried that Athena might have gotten frightened with her new internship in Miami and had driven back to Athens.

Athena answered her new mobile telephone on the first ring tone. She had not changed her mind with the new thrilling employment job.

They talked for an hour.

Athena told about burying her grandmother, selling the small house, paying the estate taxes, packing her suitcases, the boring drive on the Interstate 95 down to Miami. When she passed the city of Orlando, Athena wanted to spend some vacation time at Fun World later in the summertime. And she liked the new apartment, the new job, and the new city life.

Ned complimented her smarts and her bravery to city the new job in the big bad city of Miami, where lots of strange and beautiful things happen all the time.

Ned ordered her to be in the business office at nine a.m. for the first business meeting with the new staff members and the new procedures regarding an unexpected bank heist at the scheduled bank audits throughout Miami.

Athena agreed and hung up the telephone for the evening.
Monday June 28th

8:03 a.m.

City of Miami

Miami Dade Courthouse (six miles north of Coral Beach)

Court room setting

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

Tom and Seth were required to report to Judge Sherman Cutter to review the location of the murderess trial in the city of hot sizzling Miami or not.

Tom and Seth stood at their respective tables, staring at Cutter, who sat in his judge's bench, looking down to the papers.

"Do you object to the venue of Miami, Florida?" Judge Sherman Cutter viewed Tom.

"No." Tom stood behind the defense table.

"Do you object to me as the judge?" Cutter said.

"No." Tom said with a smile and a nod.

"Excellent, I am the official judge who will preside over this US federal murder trial. Are there any questions?"

Silence.

Cutter nodded. "I am accepting motions."

"I motion to dismiss." Tom viewed Cutter as Seth sat the prosecution table with a chuckle.

"Denied." Cutter said with a smile and a nod.

"I motion for the summary judgment to review the sketchy incomplete evidence, such as, no weapon." Tom viewed Cutter as Seth mumbled, looking down and viewing his paper notebook on the table surface.

"Denied." Cutter said with a smile and a nod.

"I motion in limine with a certain 8,063 graves that are not present for jury verification." Tom viewed Cutter as Seth chuckled and viewed Tom.

"Denied." Cutter said with a smile and a nod.

"I motion for nolle prosqui, dropping the legal charge in exchange for an out of case settlement of ten billion for all victim repudiated damages." Tom viewed Cutter as Seth laughed his ass off, slapping his hand to the table surface.

Cutter exhaled and frowned to Tom. "Counselor, are you insulting my intelligence?"

"No sir, Your Honor, I'm only protecting my client." Tom smiled.

"Denied, Mr. Sawyer." Cutter cut his eyelids at Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, if you snicker one more time in my presence..."

"Your Honor, the prosecutor requests medical tests." Seth stood and grinned to Cutter.

"No." Tom grinned to Seth's nose profile.

Cutter viewed Tom with a fake smile. "Thanks for the quick retort. But that is my question, Mr. Sawyer," he viewed Seth. "Why are the medical tests necessary, Mr. Hamilton?"

"I...have claims that the accused can kill with a touch." Seth viewed the table surface.

"Can she walk on water, too?" Cutter chuckled as Tom smirked.

Seth turned red with embarrassment and viewed Cutter, clearing his throat. "I have the right to test all hypotheses, sir. This includes these so-called rumors from all the eye witnesses."

"What eye witnesses?" Cutter said with a nod and a smile.

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, sitting and viewing his notebook. He was referencing the weird-ass character eye witness named Tiberius, where the medical physicians had examined and concluded that he was mentally unstable and lived inside his vivid imagination which was laced with vile malicious acts of revenge for his dead girlfriend Nell Hartmann, who was nicknamed Mouse. His future disposition was an individual locking cell inside the state of Florida rehabilitation center in West Palm Beach as his person would be locked up, foreverly.

"Do you have a name for me, Mr. Hamilton?" Cutter viewed Seth's hair roots.

"Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior." Seth viewed Cutter.

"Hmm..." Cutter looked down and flipped through the daily newspaper instead of the legal document that were sitting on his bench. "Yes, of course, Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior, the gentleman claimed that he had witnessed the deaths of two people with his naked eyes. The accused Miss Kattrell had physically touched a face with her hands without the use of a weapon killing them deader than a door knob."

Seth nodded. "That's correct. I..."

"I am not finished talking, Mr. Hamilton. Mr. Clark claimed the men died the next day after being found outside the house. That would be more or less in a twenty-four-hour period. Correct, Mr. Hamilton?" Cutter turned the page of the newspaper.

"That's correct." Seth nodded.

"Twenty-four hours is a long period of time for something bad to happen to some person, especially when some person or persons possesses both shady and questionable reputations to begin with. Correct, Mr. Hamilton?" Cutter reviewed the next newspaper article.

"That's correct." Seth nodded.

"These two individuals were hired and paid to kidnap Miss Kattrell. Correct, Mr. Hamilton?"

"That's correct." Seth nodded.

"These two individuals performed their task with efficiency. Correct, Mr. Hamilton?"

"That's correct." Seth nodded.

"These two individuals were hired by Mr. Clark. Correct, Mr. Hamilton?"

"That's not correct." Seth smiled and shook his skull.

Cutter viewed Seth, saying with a confused brow. "Why is it not correct, Mr. Hamilton?"

"They were hired by Miss Nell Nan Hartmann." Seth smiled.

"The check was signed by Mr. Tiberius Claudius Clark, Junior based on a copy in my legal file with his money on his business stationary. Correct, Mr. Hamilton?" Cutter viewed Seth.

"That's correct." Seth nodded.

"Therefore, after my brief lecture of dubious eye witnesses, are you still interested in the medical tests?"

"Yes." Seth said with a nod and a smile.

"What specify type of medical tests, Mr. Hamilton?"

"MRI, CT, EEG."

"What do the letters represent?"

"MRI is magnetic resonance imaging. CT means computerized tomography and an EEG is an electroencephalography."

"I'm impressed." Cutter said with a nod and a smile to Seth.

"Thank you." Seth chuckled.

"What do these pieces of equipment do?" Cutter smirked to Seth.

"Your Honor, please do not toy with me. These FDA approved medical devices are used on an hourly basis inside medical hospitals and physician clinics throughout the United States. The equipment transmits colored images inside a skull or any other human body part that a physician desires to analyze for a diagnosis of an illness." Seth said with a smile and a nod.

"What can any MRI reveal that a visual and an audio interview cannot?"

Seth cleared his throat, rattling the paper, looking down and reading the paper. "I was told by my medical advisor that the MRI procedure can reveal for the benefit of the accused any brain tissue that had been damaged by tumors, injury, lesions, perifocal edema, intracranial pressure, herniation, papilledeman, cerebrospinal fluid buildup, and etc.," he looked up with a smile to see Cutter.

"I'm very impressed." Cutter nodded to Seth.

"Thank you." Seth said with a grin.

"I object." Tom viewed Cutter.

"Why, Mr. Sawyer?" Cutter viewed Tom.

Tom was very careful and cautious with all his legal cases that were well researched and constructed for winning every damn time. Sawyer had never lost a legal case even the trialed murder cases outside the United States.

Cutter enjoyed reading the local newspapers and the law trade magazines, but one really did not know the details of a legal trial outside the USA. However, this was a real US true murder case with a true murderer, and a true lawyer. Cutter hoped that Thomas had been well trained, researched, and prepared for this historical murder event of the two centuries as the media dubbed it.

Tom said with a smile and a nod. "Any type of radiation dosage produces a low grade fever, lots of headaches, and a bout of nausea to a healthy fit human body. Research medical stared at on mice performed within the last twenty years shows a nominal dose of .00001 radiation causes damage in several biological tissues that can affect the DNA and related genes of a mouse." He turned with a grin to see the nose profile on Seth. "Excuse the pun."

Seth gasped, dropping and closing his mouth, sitting and staring at Tom.

Tom turned with a grin and a giggle, waving the paper. "This is my evidence and the basis for rejecting the prosecution's request of any additional costly and unnecessary clinical tests which will affect my client's mental, physical, and social health. Miss Kattrell was examined by my personal physician Dr. Jace Jackson. He finds her mentally healthy and physically fit based on his medical report within my hands." Tom moved and handed a copy of Katt's medical report to the bailiff. The bailiff present to both Seth and Sherman.

Seth accepted the paper and said with a smile and a nod to Cutter. "Many consumer and industrial products are lined with radiation sub-mini tiny little ions that bombard our stubborn heads and our healthy hearts every day on an hourly basis. For example, the usage of cell phones, radio headsets, laptops, plasma televisions, DVD players, CD players, microwave, and etc."

Tom said with a smile and a nod to Cutter. "Miss Kattrell does not own a telephone, a plasma television, a DVD player, a CD player, a cellular phone, a radio, a microwave or a laptop. She enjoys reading hard copied leather bound books from the local Library. She chose not to purchase and to use these electronic devices, regarding her person."

Seth said with a smile and a nod. "The average human living in the US is exposed to .360 MREM annually from all those direct and indirect sources, alone. For example, a typical dental X-ray of the human mouth results in an exposure of .003 MREM."

"MREM?" Cutter frowned.

Seth said with a smile and a nod. "MREM is the milli-rem of the symbol REM, a single unit amount of radiation. MREM is a measure of one x-ray beam. In REM terms, this translates into a measured output of one single unit from a radiation machine. The unit produces .0001 REM of exposure into your biological body, including the eyeballs."

Tom said with a smile and a nod. "Electromagnetic radiation is defined as an invisible energy field, flying through space in the form of waved or particles which is known as a wave-particle and is called a photon. The elemental unit of a photon depends on the frequency. The higher the frequency of waved, the greater energy mass of the photons. The x-rays and gamma rays produced from radiation machines, such as, MRI, CT, and EEG equipment machines record the highest frequencies in the wave-particle patterns creating gigantic photon energy inside the human body."

Seth said with a smile and a nod. "Miss Kattrell had worked as a programmer seven days per week while recording twelve hour works days on a computer at various Charity Hospitals throughout South Florida."

Tom said with a smile and a nod. "With no internet access, Seth had been missed informed. The electromagnetic radiation measures .0001 per day in a year. The dosage is exactly .361 MREM based on the engineering documents obtained from the bio-medical laboratory at Charity Kendall Hospital."

Cutter chuckled to Seth. "It seems that Miss Kattrell had received her required average daily dosage of MREM."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Your Honor, the .361 is an average. An average requires higher levels and smaller levels. The human body can absorb more and still maintain a happy and healthy lifestyle."

Cutter smiled. "I am very impressed, gentlemen with your knowledge of radiation waved, energy, MREM, particles, and photons. Medical tests denied."

"Yes Your Honor." Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration.

"Any more requests?" Cutter smiled to Tom.

"No." Seth said with a smile and a nod.

"No." Tom said with a smile and a nod.

"I have thoroughly enjoyed our electrifying conversation. I hope the trial is just as stimulating." Cutter chuckled. "We begin on Wednesday morning at nine am, sharp. Do not be late. I will not be amused. Dismissed." He stood, ruffling his robes, leaving his court room with the bailiff.

The room was empty.

Seth viewed Tom, singing and smiling, "Trump."

"Thank you." Tom turned with a nod and a smile to see Seth.

Seth parted his lips, exhaling with a huff of frustration. "I am speaking about me," he slapped his chest with victory.

"How so?" Tom frowned.

"I win, either way, Sawyer. Tests or no tests? I, now, too, possess the documented proof of a sane and reasonable mind for the girl, who will be convicted and sentenced to the death chamber by me." Seth waved the green paper with a chuckle.

"You thought, you won," Tom chuckled, pivoting and moving to the doors, leaving both the court room and Seth.

8:45 a.m.

Downtown Miami Brickell Avenue (4 miles south of courthouse)

The Consulting Firm

Lobby and office setting

Ned was quite impressed with the weird-ass physics professor Dr. Fabian Icarius.

Fabian had laid out the plan, the apartment, the company, the girls, and the bank heist in great details with his badass friends who were also guaranteed a badass cut.

Ned hoped that the plan didn't include a set of guns. He didn't own a weapon. He didn't want to own a weapon. He didn't know how to use one. He was a simply banker from Georgia not a bank robber.

The office consisted of four men and four women, who worked a skeleton job inside the pretend firm of a certified public accounting firm which was located on Brickell Avenue in downtown Miami.

Fabian had hired a true secretary named Cortina and three other women, who were actually the beauty whores for the pretend business firm.

Ned entered the lobby of his new pretend business firm, stopping and staring at the new girl who had been hired by Fabian in Georgia.

She stood from the chair and extended a firm handshake for a proper business introduction with a nice smile. Athena was a tall and pretty female with a head of golden colored hair and a tone of golden tinted skin from the dull sunlight in Athens. "Hello. My name is Athena..."

Ned had literally packed up his few sorry possessions on June third and drove his old rusty car down from the state of Georgia to the state of Florida in one day to the rental apartment in downtown Miami. He had studied finance in the backwards hillbilly town of Athens which helped land him a job as a bank manager for fifteen years.

In the local town of Athens, Georgia, the local banks were owned by the local farmers who were not multi-millionaires. The money deposits were small and used to home mortgages, satellites dishes, on-line merchandise packages, violent videos games, trucks, vans, and a few luxury cars. The rest of the monies inside each saving accounts went into a set of secured treasury bills, providing five percent interest payments on each saving account for the future of the retiree of Athens. Ninety-eight percent of the people were born and would die in Athens, Georgia.

Nessle was born and didn't want to die there.

The father of Ned worked for the US military as a captain on a boat and was gone most of Nessle's life. He retired after thirty-five years and stayed home, sleeping, playing chess on the internet, and eating his fill of fatty food while growing a pot belly stomach full of beer and T-bone steaks.

And then one day his father died of a heart attack.

"Too old and too fat," the physician proclaimed with a smile and a nod to Ned.

And then the mother of Ned soon joined her husband being too old and too sad, after the heartbreak of eternal love.

Nessle dreamed a different life with a sweet beautiful wife and not a backhoe girl from the simple town of Athens or an army brat either. The army brat girls were nothing but whores along with the not-so-good church girls. Ned enjoyed the weekly screwing but longed for something better.

Nessle joined the National Guard for a year, because his dad had insisted. He quit as soon as his tour of duty was up.

Then he taught a couple of business classes at the local university at night and worked in the bank during the day as a bank manager of the largest branch in Athens. He learned everything about banking and money. He would read about the open jobs in the larger cities, where a bank manager would manage the investments and the private companies for a millionaire. However, Ned lacked an investment stock market license.

Between his two jobs, Nessle was paid a total of 35,000 per year. It was good money for the small town of Athens but not good for purchasing fast cars, fast women, and fast times.

The city of Athens was located seventy-three miles east of metro city Atlanta.

However, he craved adventure, action and excitement out of Georgia. Then he met Fabian during an evening break at the university.

Fabian was very smart and very popular with all the girls and boys on campus, providing free alcohol, illegal drugs, and sex hookups during the weekends for the college students. Even if Fabian had been blamed for the outer space screw up, the US federal government always needed a patsy for one or two failures. Icarius was pissed, angry, and bitter over his firing as he was forced to find work in a two-bit university which was not afflicted with any gigantic higher institution state system.

The big universities did not want Fabian's sour reputation to taint the college, the research, or the alumni monies. Even though, some of the other outer space employees screw up their job, it was never made into a public announcement, so no one person was ever cited. But, each system engineer, computer programmer, college administrator, and fellow scientist knew the name Fabian Icarius.

Nessle liked and found Fabian to be a bright star in a dull town underneath a glittering moon.

Fabian had rich ideas and short tern plans to become rich, travel the world, and leave small time Athens.

And Ned wanted to ride the tuxedo coat tails of Fabian to tons of money but not instant fame.

Nessle had paid the outstanding debts of his parents, receiving a small house with forty acres of forest land. In accounting terms, his assets totaled at 209,431.89 dollars and his liabilities summed to 374.12 dollars. Each month, Ned paid for gas, electricity, water, phone bill, internet bill, and the property tax bill.

As an instructor, Nessle received a tray of free food from the university, as long as, he taught two academic classes from six p.m. to nine p.m. on the nights of Tuesday and Thursday. As a bachelor, Nessle could come and go as he pleased, as long as, he performed his boring job at the bank from nine am to five p.m.

Thus, Nessle had a good setup with a paid house, an average bank account, a tray of food, a rusty old car, and two jobs. So his young life was dull and boring at thirty-three years of age.

Men at his current age were millionaires, while some men and women were billionaires of the current times, where their inventive thinking had produced unlimited capital assets of money.

So Ned needed a niche to become a millionaire which was staring at him with a set of turquoise colored eyeballs. He wished that he could fuck Athena but smiled with a nod, shaking her hand. "I'm Ned Nessle, your new boss. Welcome aboard, Athena. We need to leave for our first appointment of the first bank. We have a very aggressive schedule to keep this week. We visit three banks within five days this week. However, we are all off work on July fifth for the national holiday. So are you ready, Athena? We'll take my car to the first audit of the day. How's that, Athena?"

Athena nodded with a smile. "Yes sir. I am ready for my first job as a bank auditor. But shouldn't I meet the other employees of the firm first before we start the day, Mr. Nessle?" She turned with a smile to see the secretary Cortina. Cortina grinned with a nod to Athena also.

Ned had used all the monetary funds from Fabian to set up the two real apartments, the business firm, and the pretend employees for the real bank heist, where her weird-ass electromagnetic field would neutralize the banking alarm system worked. Or Nessle would default to Plan B, auditing the bank accounts for the morning.

He turned and moved to the front door of the office with a smirk. "Ned. Please call me, Ned."

The door opened.

Athena turned and dashed out the door, moving beside him to the elevators.

The door closed.

Ned moved and smiled with a nod. "Then we go and grab an early lunch to celebrate your first day of employment in sunny Miami, Florida."

She looked over her collar bone at the closed door. "All right. Will any of the other employees being join us? I'm supposed to learn the banking procedures first before we start an audit. I'm very new at this job and my work, Ned."

The elevator doors opened.

He entered the carriage with a smile and turned to face the beige wall. "I'll give you the entire back story of all the employees as we ride to the first bank job of the day. I'll explain all the banking procedures of our first bank job too. Don't worry. You're a natural for getting the money. You possess a CPA license, right, Athena?"

"Yes sir. I do. I have my license with me" Athena entered and turned to face the wall too.

The elevator doors closed.

"Excellent..." Ned smiled.

9:09 a.m.

City of South Miami (8 miles south of Brickell Avenue)

Third National Bank of Florida

Lobby and reception setting

Hot temperatures with sunshine

The car stopped.

The door opened.

Athena scooted out the car door as the sudden thunderstorm violently rumbled with a tiny sprinkle of rain.

Fabian had figured out when Athena became nervous the thunderstorm appeared quicker.

The door closed.

Ned grabbed and dragged Athena to the glass archway of the bank before the storm poured down rain drops. He didn't know if the girl was self-electrocute.

The door opened.

Athena entered first through the glass archway into the lobby of the cool air conditioned bank as Ned held the door.

Then the overhead lights quickly flickered off then on and then off which meant that the internal vault alarm system had been hit by an invisible beam of electronic static from the body of Athena. This meant that the internal vault alarm bank system was about to go out of order.

Ned moved and sat down inside a row of empty chairs for a scheduled appointment while waiting for a vacationing bank vice president. Athena moved and slid beside him, bouncing her heels with nervousness, scanning the crowded lobby.

If Fabian was correct, her electronic generated invisible electronic charge would magically neutralize the bank alarm system within a half a second. If not, Ned would fall back to Plan B, audit something for the morning.

The door opened.

A gang of bank robbers swiftly entered the lobby, wearing a fake mask, waving a fake pistol and shouted in unison. "Bank robbery. Get on the floor. Get on the floor. Bank robbery..."

All the bank customers dropped and fell down to the floor with a series of screams and curses.

Athena gasped with fear inside the chair as Ned leaned over into her eardrum and grabbed her hand with a nod and a whisper. "Do not move your body. Let them do their thing."

The gang of bank robbers ran neatly in and out between the bank counters, fanning into different directions. Bank robber two reached and grabbed the gun on the bank security guard, jerking it from the belt in silence.

Bank robber one moved around the lobby and yelled. "Open the vault now. Open the bank vault now..."

Bank robber three dashed to the window of one of the bank tellers and shouted for the bank manager. All the bank robbers wore a black ski mask, a pair of ripped and torn blue jeans, a black sweater with a pair of black gloves, and a toy gun.

Nessle had specified that particular special order: no real weapons. Someone might actually get hurt. Robbing the bank with millions of dollars was a fun event but murdering in cold blood out of was unacceptable decision.

One of the bank tellers moved and ran to the bank vault, jerking the heavy door open with her weak arms muscles. The bank vault was unlocked due to the scheduled pickup of numerous money bags by the armed carrier service to the Federal treasure house for the morning.

Nessle turned and watched the bank heist in action as it worked perfectly.

Bank robber two reached and shoved the bank security guard down over the dirty tiles and held a toy rifle to the skull for fun.

Bank robber two ran and entered into the open vault with bank robber three, who toted a toy submachine gun.

And then they back pedaled from the open archway, pulling numerous elongated tan colored cloth bags that was filled and stuffed with money, looking like a full and round shaped penis, before the sperm explosion.

And then the dick of Ned twitched with lust for the money and his girlfriend Jetta.

The gang of four bank robbers grabbed and dragged numerous bags across the dirty floor, outside in the rain storm and dumped the items into a parked car in front of the open door without resistance from the local police or the bank security guard.

And then the bank robbers loaded and sped away inside the getaway car with all the money bags.

The bank security guard jumped up from the floor and ran to the door, viewing the getaway car as it screeched the worn tires, bellowing a plume of white smoke around the street corner.

Ned sat inside the comfortable chair near the front door. All the bank customers were safe. The bank employees were safe. And the bank money bags were safely acquired inside the car.

"Call the police!" The bank security guard jabbed a finger at the fleeing car of the bank robbers.

The bank teller jabbed a finger at her computer with a worried brow. "I can't. The bank communication system's messed up from the roaring thunder storm. There are no ringing phone lines only static. There's no electricity only darkness. I don't understand this. I can't do anything here." She continued to punch on the buttons at her work teller station without success.

Ned turned with a smile to see the nose profile on Athena. Fabian had theorized when Athena was upset, the rain began.

On cue, a heavy down pour of rain drops came down from the dark sky with a set of high winds. Then a series of loud beautiful bolts of white lightning cracked in an array of double zigzag designs inside the black clouds.

Ned leaned over with a grin into her space, smelling her perfume, admiring her beauty. "Are you okay, my dear? The police will come in a few minutes. Then we will leave the nasty bank scene." Ned reached and patted her hand with a nod. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off, Athena? This has been too much excitement for me also. Okay?"

"All right..." She turned with a whisper to see the black thunder storm and white lightning bolts.

Thirty minutes later, the first group of police cars arrived with a set of whistling musical sirens flashing blue and white lights in the light rain shower.

So Athena must have liked his soft touch.

Ned leaned over and whispered with a smile into her cheekbone. "See the police have here. Everything is fine as we southerns like to say. We will talk with them and then we will leave."

The police officers entered the building and started questioning all the customers as the rain ceased.

And then sun shone over the wet grass and city streets.

Ned stood and approached one of the police officers, pointing and nodding to Athena, explaining his verbal statements and observation. The police officer dismissed them.

They moved and exited the building, entering the limousine that Ned had rented for effect, riding back to the rental office space of the pretend accounting firm.

At the office, Ned tattled about the big exciting bank robbery of the day to the other staff members and dismissed all the employees for the day that had to return tomorrow morning for the normal work duties, since the news was too exciting to miss on the television.

1:11 p.m.

City of Florida City (30 miles south of Miami)

Homestead Bayfront Park

Houseboat of Fabian Icarius

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

Ned left the office and drove south on the roadway named as Florida's Turnpike down to a small fishing town in the beach town of Florida City, where the robbers had also fled down to Fabian. Ned did not see Fabian but getaway car was parked outside in plain eye view. Angry at Icarius, Ned parked the car, sliding out and slamming the door as his old car rattled from the rust spots.

Nessle stormed across the seashell driveway in his expensive leather and stomped onto the rocking houseboat, moving through the open door and halted. "My gawd!" The cabin room was covered in red paint...wrong red blood.

"Nessle. Welcome to my aboat...about...adobe," Fabian chuckled, flying higher than a bird in flight on cocaine, holding an axe in one hand in the air with a silly grin.

Ned scanned the numerous bloody body parts around the floor and some parts were glued onto the will of the houseboat. "You killed them?"

"No witnesses," Fabian chuckled and parked the bloody axe over his collar bone with a silly grin.

"You planned this?" Ned pointed to the bloody body parts from wall to wall.

"No witnesses. The girl?" Fabian looked down with a grin and eyeballed the neck muscle of his new victim, lowering and holding the sharp axe over the fleshy spot.

"Fine and safe. The plan worked." Ned stared with a stern face and a weak stomach at Fabian and the axe.

"Of course, my plan worked greatly. I'm a genius." Fabian dropped and chopped the axe, removing the skull from the spine neck with his free hand and a silly chuckle.

Fabian had mentioned a removal process by boat, but Ned had thought about removing the money by boat and not the bodies by boat.

"Time to take care of Douglass...Doug...Dougie boy." Fabian chopped with a chuckle and a grin on the arm joint.

Ned stood away from the flying bloody and remnant body parts and shook his skull with a sour frown. "He's safe on the west coast of Florida with his family."

"Live bodies talk." Fabian moved and chopped the kneecap from the leg bone.

"Our plan..."

"My plan is to eliminate him and his family next. He's a bastard father anyway and the next chump of shark bait for my new ocean friends." Fabian moved and chopped the ankle bone from the leg, enjoying his new life style of illegal drugs, pretty girls, pretty guys, and robbing banks of millions of dollars with a silly giggle and a grin.

"When does Douglass return?" Ned frowned.

Fabian lifted the axe with a sour frown. "He doesn't." He continued to chop and chop removing the skulls, limbs, and other body parts from each victim and then finished the last smack as the blood spattered across the floor, the walls, and then a naked chest.

Ned moved and hauled the naked chopped up numerous gory body parts into a small speed boat.

Then they returned and washed off the blood from the interior of the boat floor directly into Intercoastal Waterway from a set of installed hose which pumped salt water into the houseboat's pipe.

The salt water rinsed the wooden floor, the port, and the bow of the houseboat to clean and dull.

Eventually, the salt would corrode both metal and wood, but this particular houseboat would also eventually sink deep down into ocean water, once all the money had been collected from the targeted thirteen bank robberies.

And the houseboat was isolated from the public eyeballs also and then would quietly move down and anchor at another isolated sea island for docking and living.

They sprinkled sand over the wet wooden floor. The wooden flooring would rotten over time from the messy abuse, but that was the point of a mobile sea residence. Since sometimes, water accidents happened on the ocean from a cabin fire, a violent sea thunderstorm, or an engine explosion.

The speed boat veered from land and sailed five ocean miles out into the deep green sea as Ned steered the boat and Fabian hauled and carried, tossing over board the individual naked body parts out and down into the Atlantic Ocean. So the sharks would dine well tonight.

The young boys of Fabian's bedroom had left their personal cars inside a crowed parking lot at one of the local grocery stores in Miami. The Miami-Dade police force would find their fingerprints but not the boys, since Fabian drove them to the tiny town of Florida City, after receiving the numerous money bags from the first successful bank heist.

After the body parts were gone, the speed boat turned and headed back to the shoreline.

Ned and Fabian moved into the air conditioned houseboat, splitting the money, drinking a cold beer.
Tuesday June 29th

9:01 a.m.

City of Miami

Miami Dade Courthouse (six miles north of Coral Beach)

Court Trial Day One court room setting

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

This was the first day of the murderess trial.

Judge Sherman Cutter presided over the trial and had ordered no reporters or photographers into his courtroom.

Seth and his team of prosecutors sat on the right side of room, if you entered through the double doors. Seth sat in first chair with the Miami district attorney named Keith Newman. Inside the gallery, the first row of key eye witnesses against Katt was composed of Dr. Kim Byrne, Dr. Ethan Alan Underhill, and Dr. Peter Mowran.

FBI agent Phil sat behind the row of key eye witnesses.

And on the last seat in the first row, Tiberius Clark, Junior occupied a chair too as the bailiff stood in front of him for both protection and security.

On the other side of the room, Tom sat first chair next to Austin at the defense table which faced the eye witness box.

Frank and Stu occupied the two chairs behind Tom and Austin in the first row.

The rest of the gallery was empty except for a line of Quartet Associates guards that occupied the last row for both protection and security.

The doors were locked for both protection and security too.

The jury box was located diagonally from the prosecution table, where fifteen men and women jury had been selected which consisted of twelve regular jury people and three alternative jury people, in case of emergency, death, or blackmail.

In this court room, across from the jury box there was a newly constructed glass structure which contained a single chair. The single chair held Katt, who watched and listened with a smile to Tom.

Tom moved and stood in the middle of the court square as his arms swayed slightly by his sides. He viewed the jury box, and said with a smile and a nod in his professional demeanor. "I am Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. I am a citizen of Coral Beach. I was berthed at Charity Coral Gables Hospital on August eighteenth..."

"What in the hell is he doing?" Frank whispered to Stu. Stu and Frank quietly sat their asses, listening to the opening defense statement on the first day of the Katt's murderess death-trial from Tom.

"Don't know." Stu whispered back, narrowing his eyelids at Sawyer.

"Had Tom lost it?" Frank whispered, staring at Tom.

"Don't know." Stu whispered, staring at Tom.

"He sounds loco, crazy." Frank whispered.

"Don't know." Stu whispered.

Tom said with a smile and a nod to the jury. "I am a business partner with Quartet Associates and head of the legal department. I attend the Methodist church in Coral Gables with my wife Jane and my close family members on a regular basis. You also see us together attending numerous Charity functions throughout Miami-Dade County on a weekly basis. I am the attorney for Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, who's affectionately nicknamed as Katt. Thank you very much for your time and patience." He swung and moved to his table, sitting in the first chair spot beside Austin.

Austin swung around to Frank and Stu, wearing a worried brow.

Frank viewed Austin with a worried brow too as Stu whispered to the nose profile on Frank. "Don't know."

Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior was the great, great, great, great, great, and great grandson of Alexander Hamilton of Charleston, North Carolina, slowly standing and moving to the jury box, and stopped, smoothing his new designer business suit and exhaled with a huff of frustration. He said with a smile and a twang of sugar-coated-buttery-molasses proper gent accent of the Deep South. "Good citizens of this fine jury I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior, would like to summary for you good people the criminal and justice legal system in our great country the United States of America.

"Criminal law is the body of law which defines the criminal offences and the criminal penalties for a stated convicted offender. Apprehending, charging, and trying any and all suspected offenders are regulated by US law. In a legal system, a crime is committed, where three elements are fulfilled. First, the accused commits the guilty act or actus reus. Second, there is a victim as it happens to be in this particular case, there are numerically 8,063 victims, who had suffered a legally cognizable harm by the accused. Third, the accused had causation established by logical connection which was supported by evidence between the criminal act and the harm of the instant deaths which had been painfully suffered by the 8,063 victims. If it cannot be proven that the act caused the harm, then a conviction cannot be sustained. The criminal must also have a requisite malicious intent to do a criminal act or mens ream, a guilty mind.

"I am the district attorney for the United States of America that will prove beyond a shadow of doubt that the accused Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell had committed these heart-retching and gut-twisting crimes throughout the cities of the great state of Florida. The accused leaves behind many, many dead bodies from tiny innocent babies to elderly innocent folks based on hard evidence, vocal testimonies, many eye witness accounts, real financial records, and medical results and finally showing her cause, her reason, and her connection to the 8,063 dead souls.

"Thank you for your attention and patience in allowing me, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior, this great opportunity to represent the USA, the USA taxpayers, and USA citizens of this great free country in convicting a multiple cold-blooded serial killer. This killer possesses a guilty mind, who's evil work has far exceeded any other murderess story plot inside any American history textbook of this nation and the world over as a matter of fact of committing the greatest guilty act of all time," he pressed his hands down his business suit, smiling and nodding without the photographers or television cameras.

Judge Cutter did not allow any media personnel or equipment into the closed courtroom.

Seth slowly swung around, viewing Tom with a smile and a nod, and strutted back to the prosecutor table as first chair.

Tom viewed Katt in her transparent see-through glass box.

The box was made of some type of germ protection material which contained her deadly germs from contaminating the jury, the judge, the lawyers, and the very limited court room occupants. She presented to the jury as a calm and sober female while obeying Tom's instructions to the letter.

He closed his eyelids, not hearing any applaud from the jury, the judge, and the limited audience, who all were shell shocked.

Cutter said with a nod and a smile to Seth. "Your first witness, Mr. Hamilton."

Seth smiled and sat in first chair on the prosecution team with his mighty arrogance. "I prefer to be addressed as Dr. Hamilton, sir."

"Your first witness, Mr. Hamilton," Cutter smiled to Seth.

Seth slowly stood from the behind the table, saying with a nod and a smile to the jury. "I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior, am very pleased to call into the witness stand the State of Florida licensed psychiatrist, who is currently employed by Charity Healthcare System. She is named Dr. Kim Byrne."

Kim stood from her chair and moved through the court square, standing in front of the bailiff. The bailiff mumbled his practiced sentences. Kim touched The Holy Bible with her left hand while holding her other palm near her jaw line. "I swore to tell the truth."

"Please, take the eye witness stand." The bailiff said and pointed to the eye witness chair.

Seth slowly moved to the eye witness stand, saying with a smile and a nod to Kim. "Please re-state your name and occupation for the jury and the court records of this murder trial today as a medical witness for the prosecution."

She viewed Seth. "Dr. Kim Byrne. I'm currently employed as a licensed psychiatrist for Charity Healthcare System. I'm a clinical psychologist with a degree from Miami-Dade University, specializing in child and cognitive psychology. I use both my degree and my accumulated skills and knowledge, working in the criminal and forensic arena throughout various police precincts within the city limits of Miami, Florida. I'm a clinical expert in the resurgence of the importance of understanding workplace violence and in the development methods of threat assessment which is sometimes caused by a person's mental torture which is created by the fear of threats of violence. I have developed a method of identifying and assessing threats, before a violent act occurs while helping a business organization determine the signs and symptoms of stress in any single solo employee that could trigger bodily harm or even murder or murders.

"Understanding the process from one of many non-stress activities to one or more stressful events helps me develop a potential violent act that can be avoided with the correct proper social and cultural training and techniques. I serve as a consultant on many professional sates working freely with employees of different backgrounds and cultures to identify both personal and professional fears and threats within the workplace. I work with the victims as well. I'm an expert in the study of the mind, specifically the mind of a murder. I understood their social cultures binding them to a cult leader or a figure head such as a divine diva. For example, when the first stage of violence occurs and the diva uses a series of evil forces against a peaceful society for protection or pleasure. This makes the diva a mass murderess with a direct contact of each victim instead of being removed as the victim died." Kim nodded to Seth.

Seth said with a smile and a nod to her and jury. "Thank you, Dr. Byrne for your very detailed academic education, professional knowledge, and many years of job experience, working with murderesses. Did you converse with the defendant Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell?"

"Yes." Kim stared at Seth without showing an emotion or a nasty facial expression.

"Do you see her in this courtroom, today?" Seth viewed Kim and Katt with a nod and a smile.

"Yes." Kim stared at Seth without showing an emotion or a nasty facial expression.

"Where?" Seth viewed Katt with a nod and a smile.

"Containment cell." Kim stared at Seth without showing an emotion or a nasty facial expression.

"Please do describe to the judge, jury, and lawyers Miss Kattrell's mental and emotional state of mind as a trained clinical psychiatrist?" Seth viewed Kim and Katt with a smile and a nod.

"I find Miss Kattrell to be biological fit at the age of twenty-seven years-old. She possesses her long term memories of her childhood in Boyer, Florida and moving to Miami, Florida, where established a stable life in a big city. She is hardy and strong in physical matter and personality, enduring stress easily, self-reliant in deeds and actions, intuitive with her initial instincts, optimist, creative, compassionate in character, and a very spiritual being, who is both daring with adventure and action," she smirked at Seth.

Soft giggles invaded the room.

"Quiet. I will have quiet in my courtroom." Cutter scanned the court gallery.

"Is Miss Kattrell in her present situation in your clinical medical opinion anxious or paranoid?" Seth viewed Kim and Katt with a smile and a nod.

"No." Kim stared at Seth without showing an emotion or a nasty facial expression.

"Does she tend to unravel?" Seth viewed Kim and Katt with a smile and a nod.

"No."

"Therefore, you conclude in your medical opinion as a trained and licensed clinical psychiatrist employed by Charity Healthcare System that Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell possesses a healthy state of mind." Seth viewed Kim and Katt with a smile and a nod.

"Yes." Kim stared at Seth without showing an emotion or a nasty facial expression.

"Thank you, Dr. Byrne." Seth viewed with a smile and a nod to Kim and Katt, swooning around and moving back to the table, seeing the hair roots on Tom.

"Mr. Sawyer, you may question the witness." Cutter viewed the hair roots on Tom.

"No questions, Your Honor." Tom viewed the table surface, scribbling his pencil markings on his paper notepad.

Cutter viewed Kim. "You may step down, Dr. Byrne." Kim stood and moved, sitting in her assigned in the first row of the court gallery. He viewed Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, your next witness, please."

Seth slowly stood from the table, saying with a nod and a smile. "I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior am proud to please call forth to the witness stand Dr. Ethan Alan Underhill. He had earned his bachelor's, master's, and doctoral degrees from Miami-Dade University. He currently represents the Miami-Dade County Medical Examiner Office as a former police officer and a current forensic expert in the field of forensic profiling. Mr. Underhill had spent his last thirty years dedicated to his profession as both a police officer and a coroner, staring and studying at vile violence in various set type of murderesses. He has analyzed these behavioral patterns, assessing the death threats, verifying, and confirming the victims of all such murders committed by a murderess also."

Ethan stood and moved through the court square, standing in front of the bailiff, promising to tell the truth. He turned and sat in the eye witness box.

Seth slowly moved with a smile and a nod to Ethan. "Please re-state your name and occupation to the jury and for the court records of the murder trial today as a medical witness for the prosecution."

"Ethan Underhill." He said with a stern face without an emotion or a facial expression too.

"What is your current job, Dr. Underhill?" Seth viewed Ethan and Katt with a smile and a nod.

"Coroner."

"Dr. Underhill, you possess vast academic knowledge and great job experience in forensics, including your thirty years of police work. What in your professional opinion is the mental and emotional state of mind of Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell?" Seth viewed Katt with a smile and a nod.

"She is living out a fantasy of personality configuration." Ethan stared at Seth without an emotion or a nice or nasty facial expression.

Seth whipped his distorted face to Ethan, since Ethan's statement was not practiced in the district attorney's office yesterday for today's murderess trial

Tom smirked at Ethan's verbal slap to Seth's face, still scribbling on the paper notepad with his pencil and not viewing Ethan or Seth.

In the academic study of general psychological, a personality configuration was an unrelated good intent or evil malice forethought of a living person. That person simply possessed a series of life style behaviors like eating, drinking, sleeping, killing, and cuddling. So she could be a loving wife of a husband or a lousy mother of her child based on her viewpoint and not another person's point of view.

Underhill's blank and bland professional opinion left the impression and interpretation of Katt's behavior up to the jury as an ordinary simple behavior and not revealing his trained acute medical opinion to anyone, including the judge or the jury members.

Tom learned these medical facts from Frank and Jace as part of his required medical academic education for Katt's murderess trial.

Austin kicked his leather into Tom's leg, pointing down to his paper pad with the pencil eraser to the written symbols: ??

Tom reached over and scribbled on Austin's paper pad the word: ALLY.

Austin saw and understood, looking up with a smirk to their new ally Ethan, who was protecting Katt too, exhaling with a huff of frustration, leaning into the hard chair.

"A fantasy of personality? What kind of fantasy of personality configuration, Dr. Underhill?" Seth redirected Ethan's wrong answer to Ethan's right explanation for all the eardrums of the jury, since Ethan was not following the practiced murderess script from yesterday. This nonsense line of dumb and numb answers was not telling the jury members anything but plantation farm hog shit.

"You would have to ask the defendant." Ethan smirked.

The sounds of soft giggles invaded the room.

"Silence," Cutter softly said without smirking to Ethan's smart-ass reply.

"Do you have any more fantasy images regarding Miss Kattrell?" Seth dropped his mouth with embarrassment.

More sounds of giggles invaded the room.

"Silence," Cutter softly said without smirking to Seth's dumbass question.

Ethan stared at Seth. "I do not, Mr. Hamilton."

Seth grinded the teeth, "Let me re-phase my question, sir. Does Miss Kattrell possess any type of personality flaws?"

"No." Ethan stared at Seth without an emotion or a nice or nasty facial expression.

"Does Miss Kattrell possess any type of mental illness, perhaps?"

"No."

"Does Miss Kattrell possess any type of non-standard profiling murderess trait based on any killing thoughts of 8,063 dead bodies from 8,063 exhumed graves, perhaps?"

"No."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Ethan, gritting his teeth. "Thank you, Dr. Underhill," he back stepped from the eye witness box, swinging to his table. Ethan had tainted his professional testimony for the jury members with his stupid points of useless medical witness stuff for the prosecution.

"Mr. Sawyer, do you have any defense questions for the second witness which was provided by the prosecution in defending Miss Kattrell?" Cutter narrowed his eyelids at the hair roots on Tom for a second time.

"No sir, Your Honor." Tom viewed the table, scribbling more pencil drawings on his paper notepad.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing Sawyer. "You may step down, Dr. Underhill," he viewed Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, please provide your next witness."

Seth slowly stood from the table, saying with a smile and a nod. "I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior, am very happy and pleased to call into the eye witness stand Dr. Peter Mowran, who is the governor's special appointed physician on the original investigational team that traveled north to the panhandle of Florida and south to Florida Keys, and west to the coast of Naples in a state-wide manhunt for the angel of death or as we know her, Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. Dr. Mowran is current a clinical psychiatrist for the Florida State Department of Public Health in Tallahassee."

Mowran stood and straightened his old business suit, moving through the court square, standing in front of the bailiff, and he promised to tell the truth, turning and sitting in the eye witness box.

Seth moved and stood in front of the witness box, saying with a smile and a nod to Peter. "Please re-state your name and occupation to the jury and for the court records in the murder trial today as a medical eye witness for the prosecution."

Peter turned with a sour frown and jabbed a finger at Katt in the glass box, yelling. "Kattleen is a dominant huntress cave woman killing..."

Austin punched Tom in the arm.

Tom nodded, calmly scribbling his creative pencil markings on the paper notepad, expecting this and more monkey behavior from Peter as he was laughing his ass off in his neurons at the silly old physician.

Cutter banged his gravel on the wooden bench surface, turning and yelling at Peter. "Thank you, Dr. Mowran. You may step down from the witness box now."

Peter sat, jabbing a finger to Katt in the glass box, yelling. "Kattleen is a killing warrior, who preys on the docile poor weakened sick children and elder..."

Cutter banged his gravel again, yelling at Peter. "Thank you, Dr. Mowran. You may leave the witness stood and my courtroom now, sir," he motioned to the bailiff.

The bailiff moved and stomped from guarding Tiberius to the witness box, reaching and jerking Peter from the seat and around the wooden frame, shuffling him to the closed and guard archway of the court galley.

The QA guards stood and lined the aisle and covered the door as one unlocked the latch, waiting for Peter's arrival.

Peter twisted his face, jabbing a finger to Katt, yelling in the room. "Kattleen is a ruthless, tenacious, precise killer..."

Cutter stood, pointing his gravel at Peter's ass, yelling. "Your testimony had finished, sir. Get him out of my courtroom, until the physician can control his emotions, now."

The QA guard opened the door as the bailiff tossed Peter to the lobby when flash bulbs blinded the eyeballs. The bailiff tried to slam the door shut when the media reporters halted the movement and snapped more pictures inside the closed court room.

Cutter aimed his gravel at the open doors, yelling. "Bailiff, get these damned media reporters out of my courtroom and my building. Call security and warn them. If I see a nose bridge or hear another nosy question, then I'm going to toss the entire media crew into my jail cells, since they're empty at the moment."

The door closed with a boom.

The bailiff swung and moved through the court square and to the side door, obeying Cutter.

Tom sniggered, drawing on the notepad. Austin smirked, turning and watching the commotion in the rear of the court room.

Stu laughed, turning and viewing the loud commotion in the rear of the court room too, whispering to the eardrum on Frank. "Asswipes. Wished, I could toss their buttholes from the building."

Frank turned and watched the action in the rear of the room, patting the kneecap of Stu, whispering with a smile. "Be nice, Stuart. You might get your chance later. This is just the first day a lot can happen between now and death sentence day."

"Wishes do come true, Franklin?" Stu turned with a nod and a grin to see the nose profile on Frank.

"If you pray really, really hard, Stuart?" Frank turned around with a smile to see Cutter.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a sour frown to Tom. "Counselors, in my chambers, we break for a fifteen-minute recess." He slapped the gravel on the wooden surface, moving and leaving the court room.

Katt stood, moving from her chair and disappeared into the inner chamber for the recess of the trial.

Austin stood first. Tom slowly stood, blocking Austin with his arm, shaking his bangs, communicating a silence 'no.' Tom moved and strutted from the defense table, following the ass of Seth through the archway and to a familiar dark maple paneled room.

"Sit," Cutter stood in front of desk, pointing to the chair.

Tom moved and sat in the old worn brown leather chair with one leg crossed over his kneecap like he had done so many times before.

Seth stood in closed archway, crossing his arms, smiling down at the hair roots on Tom.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his skull to Tom. "I am very disappointed..."

"Your Honor," Seth frowned with shock to Cutter, uncrossing his arms.

Cutter looked up with a sour frown to see Seth. "Not you, Hamilton." He viewed Tom. "Thomas, are you going to defend your client? Are you going to ask any questions? This was the third eyewitness against Miss Kattrell. You have sat on the sidelines like a spectator just watching the game plays in action."

Tom wiggled his new leather with the cute tassel on his kneecap, saying with a nod and a smile to Cutter. "Your Honor, you are correct. I have observed and heard the testimony of all three medical witnesses along with the jury. I have concluded that their individual medical opinions are biased with total smelly animal excretion." He held the poker face as his brain cells laughed like a true sleazy ass lawyer.

Seth hissed and Sherman chuckled.

Tom said with a smile and a nod. "I believe that Dr. Mo-ron proved my point of view with these simple but elegant straight forward uneducated English sentences a few minutes ago on and off the bench for the eardrums of the jury."

Cutter nodded. "Very good, Thomas." He looked up with a stern face to see Seth. "Hamilton, do you have an opinion here?"

"No sir." Seth shook his skull.

Cutter narrowed his eyelids at Seth. "Good. If you produce another asshole witness similar to Mowran and I will toss four contempt charges on your ass. You will be spending four days in my south Florida jail house, after the verdict had been heard. Do I make myself clear, Dr. Hamilton?"

"Yes Your Honor." Seth nodded.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration and smiled. "Good. We are all on the same page here. This is America here. Everyone gets a fair and impartial trial as stated in the Constitution of the United States set by our fore fathers over two hundred years ago for every citizen of the United States of America, including Miss Kattrell here." He nodded, moving to the archway as Seth slid out of the way, and Cutter led the lawyers back to the court room.

Tom stood and moved, following behind the ass Seth again, strutting into the court room with a smirk to Austin, and sat in his first chair.

Austin slammed a nose bridge with growl to Tom's cheekbone. "What happened?"

Tom smiled, grabbing the pencil, playing with the wood, and looked up to see Cutter. "Cutter wants a fair and an impartial court of law trial for Katt."

"Defendant is released." The bailiff said with a nod and a smile inside the court square.

Cutter sat in the bench.

Katt sat in her chair inside the glass box, viewing Austin.

Tom looked up with a smile and a nod to Katt as Austin gave two thumbs up sign for good luck, smiling with a nod to her.

Katt smiled with a nod to Austin from inside her glass box.

"Flirting with our client, Old Man?" Tom leaned over with a smile and twirled the pencil, watching Austin and Katt flirt.

"I'm communicating, since I can't whisper into her ear." Austin looked down to see his handwritten notes.

"Wanna do that too, Austin?" Tom turned and smiled to Katt.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration and said with a sour tone to the cheekbone on Tom. "Focus on saving her life, Tom."

Tom smiled and twirled the pencil, turning and watching Cutter. "Someone sounds a little infatuated with our beautiful clientele," he leaned over to Austin's nose profile. "Don't worry. I'm going to save her life. Jace's going to cure her. And she'll be free for you to molest, Old Man," he sat back, smiling and twirling the pencil out of boredom.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning and watching Cutter. "You're mentally sick, Tom."

"Only, today," Tom chuckled.

"I believe that the jury has been saddled with the dark evil image of a female Adolph Hitler." Stu whispered too loudly to Frank's nose profile behind Tom.

"Or worse, Countess Dracula?" Frank grinned and viewed Stu.

Tom swung around, leaning with a sour frown and a growl to the huddle of Frank and Stu. "Shut the fuck up."

Cutter banged his gravel on the wooden bench, saying with a nod and a sour frown. "Before we continue, I must point out the judicial discretion remains with me, only me. I am the judge. I allow the eye witnesses to testify in my court of law. I, as the judge, will determine the limits of testimony, as well as, any information that to me appears to waste time or is irrelevant. Therefore, the testimony can and will be barred in my court room. The trial had been dismissed for the rest of the day to think about wasting my time, the jury's time, and Miss Kattrell's time," he slammed his gravel for a second time, standing and ruffling his robes, and left the court room.

The bailiff moved and stood in the middle of the court square, motioning with his hands and directing the traffic flow the court attendees without his words. His group of court house guards moved and surrounded the jury box.

Each jury member stood and moved to the side door as they were heading back to the hotel and their individual rooms for the afternoon and to return to the court house tomorrow at nine o'clock.

Thus, the jury box was empty.

After the jury members had vacated the court square, the bailiff used his hands again, signaling to the returning court house guards to remove Tiberius Clark, Junior from the first row of the prosecution side of the room. He was being escorted back to his private prison cell which was located inside the court house, since the usual city jail was too accessible for one crazy citizen of Miami to barge in and kidnap or kill Mr. Clark, depending upon the mental state of the citizen.

Thus, Clark disappeared from the court room too.

The bailiff motioned to Katt.

Katt nodded and stood with a smile, moving and leaving her glass box. She would walk through an interior tunnel that led to her private chamber, where she would dress in her new outer space suit to contain her dangerous deadly germs. When she finished dressing and moved down the tunnel to the specially designed truck with a lift into the rear carriage as she would sit and ride back to her prison cell for a new day of trial.

The bailiff motioned to Tom without words, granting his hand permission to exit the court room also.

Tom stood along with Austin, Frank, and Stu in silence, leading the Quartet to the side door which the jury members had taken also, moving and exiting to the outside nasty and dirty smelling alleyway. The Quartet limousine was hiding out by the city street, waiting for the brothers to finish the trial business for the day.

A new set of prison guard returned and surrounded Seth and his prosecution team for escorting through the main lobby of the court house, where Seth would stand and smile to all the media reporters and the media photographs and tattle tale the first day of the murderess trial to the world.

Seth and his team member stood and moved to the entrance doors of the court room as the court house guards and the QA guards marched beside Seth and his prosecution team to the lobby doors.

The court room was empty and ready to be cleaned and polished for the court business tomorrow at nine o'clock.

The bailiff moved and stood in front of the door, closing and locking them, swinging and moving to the chamber of the judge for further instructions.

The court of law had finished for the first day.

11:03 a.m.

Miami Dade Courthouse

Parking lot setting

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

The QA guards turned and moved to a new limousine, tossing off the media reporters and photographers from chasing after the Quartet with their nosy and numerous questions without any type of answers.

The television reporter in her blue jacket said with a smile and a nod to the television camera. "The angel of death had killed to date 8,063 people who had lived, worked, and played in south Florida between the cities of North Miami down to southern Homestead. After the first day of the murderess Crimes of Humanities trial, the special appointed US district attorney prosecutor Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior had shared with us the secret court details.

"The testifying eye witnesses consisted of a group of medical physicians, who did their proper job in identifying the accused Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell's mental, physical, and social murderous behavior. And Miss Kattrell is mental fit to stand trial for killing 8,063 souls. Dr. Hamilton went on to add the day was very successful for the 8,063 victims and their suffering families on this historical multi-body crime wave for the past ten years. The medical investigation had involved exhuming over 8,063 grave sites from the beach city of Key Largo up to metro city of Ft. Lauderdale. Adding to the mysterious murder trial, federal judge Sherman Cutter had dictated that all visual cameras and audio recorders were not allowed inside the closed circuit courtroom." She turned and pointed to the side dark alley at a dark figure as the television camera focused on a man in a business suit. She laughed. "There, you see it. Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third leaves the court house building through a rear alleyway. What does that tell ya, folks?"
Wednesday June 30th

9:16 a.m.

Miami Dade Court house (10 miles north of Coral Beach)

Court Trial day two court room setting

Hot temperatures and windy with sunshine

Inside the court room, Seth slowly stood from the prosecution table, saying with a smile and a nod. "I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior am very happy to call forth to the eye witness stood veterinarian medical doctor Hank Baxter."

Baxter was dressed in his professional white and pressed laboratory coat with an embroidered name. He was average height with a head of brown hair, moving from the court gallery into the court square, standing in front of the bailiff, raising his hand, and whispered to tell the honest truth. He moved and nervously sat in the eye witness box.

Seth slowly moved to Baxter, viewing the hair roots on Tom and the smile of Katt, smirking and stopping in front of Baxter, and pressed down his new business suit, saying with a nod. "Dr. Baxter, please tell the court, the jury, and the judge in your own words what happened to all your precious animals at the Animal Aid Society Shelter which is located on Valencia Street in Coral Gables?"

Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration and said with a nod and a smile with nervousness. "Within the past four years over 1,000 puppies, kittens, cats, and dogs have all died from a very strange and mysterious unexplained series of death. I personally examined one of the kitten's internal organs. And I found that its liver was covered with a yellow crystallized substance which was also discovered in the 8,063 poor souls that were killed..."

"Dr. Baxter, please re-frame from referencing any particular person in my courtroom. I do not like supposition. However, I do enjoy very much assigning contempt charges for the lawyers and their eye witnesses, who break my legal courtroom rules. This allows me to jail you in my private prison chambers which are located behind the other door, since my jail cells are empty at the moment," smirked Cutter to Baxter.

Baxter turned and viewed Cutter, parting his lips with a nod in fear of imprisonment.

Seth tapped his fingers on the wooden witness stand, saying with a nod and a smile to the nose profile on Baxter. "Please continue with your testimony for addressing my question, Dr. Baxter."

"I'm finished." Baxter looked down and viewed his hands, slightly lifting from wooden seat.

"Please continue to sit, Dr. Baxter. You are invited to stay with us, a while longer. Mr. Hamilton, I believe has a couple of more eye witness questions for you." Baxter turned and viewed Cutter with a worried brow and a nod. Cutter turned and nodded to Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, please proceed."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, pressing down his suit with a pair of sweaty hands, saying with a nod to the nose profile on Baxter. "Do you have any tiny bits of medical data as a medical licensed physician that you wish to share with the jury about the importance of your dead animals located in the shelter on Valencia Street?" He asked one of the practiced questions for Baxter which was rehearsed yesterday at the office of the district attorney in downtown Miami.

"No." Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his skull, and viewed his hands. "I'm finished."

"One animal, a kitten was found to have a yellow crystallized liver. Is this correct, Dr. Baxter?" Seth viewed the hair roots on Baxter.

Baxter looked up and viewed Cutter.

Cutter nodded to answer the posed question.

"Yes." Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration and looked down and viewed his hands again. "I'm finished now."

"Did your competent staff operate and examine any of the other dead animals for any suspicious reasons?" Seth viewed Baxter's hair roots.

"No." Baxter viewed his hands. "I'm finished now."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, pressing his sweaty hands over his jacket. "You told me that the animals might have died from transport but did not. So there was another biological explanation, Dr. Baxter. Would you like to tell the jury anything else about the discovery of a dead kitten or any other dead animals during your medical examination?" He viewed Baxter's hair roots.

Baxter looked up with a worried brow to see Seth, shaking his hands and his skull. "No, Mr. Hamilton, I would not. I have nothing more to tell, say, or voice. May I leave now?" He exhaled with a huff of nervousness.

"I'm finished with the witness, Your Honor." Seth pivoted and moved back to his table, feeling disgust at a second tainted eye witness against Miss Kattleen Kattrell.

Cutter turned and smiled to Baxter. "Mr. Baxter, since you are unfamiliar with legal protocol please allow me to explain. The prosecution had asked you questions about the mammals at the Animal Aid Society Shelter which is located on Valencia Street in Coral Gables. Now, the defense attorney gets a whack at you." The sounds of soft sniggers invaded the court room. Cutter paused, listening to the entertaining sounds, saying with a nod and a smile. "Therefore, it is Mr. Sawyer's turn to ask you some very important questions. Do you understand, Dr. Baxter?" Baxter turned and viewed Tom, parting his lips. Cutter viewed Tom with a grin. "Very good, Dr. Baxter. Your witness is available for your cross-examination, Mr. Sawyer."

Tom slammed his back muscles into the hard chair, smoothly voicing in his natural tenor." Are you a licensed veterinarian for all animals in the state of Florida?"

"Yes." Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Seth.

Tom smiled. "Does your veterinarian license include horses, cows, bulls, and zoo animals, such as, lions, tigers, and bears? O mine." He softly chuckled with some of the others in the court gallery.

"Only domestic animals like cats, dogs, birds, maybe some reptiles." Baxter said with a nod and a smile with nervousness tenor, staring at Seth.

Tom nodded. "Very good, I understand. Your state of Florida veterinarian license is very limited in the medical treatment and clinical protocols to a certain group of particular small mammals. Would that be correct, sir?" Baxter viewed Seth.

Seth signaled with a set of old baseball motions, raising one finger near a temple for a 'yes' response or two fingers for a 'no' response. He raised one finger to his temple which was hidden away from Tom's eyeballs.

Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Seth. "Yes."

Tom noted the familiar baseball signal with a chuckle, clearing his for fun, viewing Baxter. "If I remember correctly from my biology class in my tenth grade high school, animals can't talk with human speech?" He grinned, hearing the sound of soft chuckles. "Animals cannot talk, is that correct, Dr. Baxter?"

"Yes." Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Seth.

Tom smirked. Seth had trained his eye witness very well for the trial questions with the one word answers without elaborating on the subject matter which was good but not good enough. Sawyer asked. "You are trained from an accredited veterinary school which is located here in Miami, taking medical care of animals that cannot talk the English language. Can the animals talk in Spanish with funny accents, perhaps?" He chuckled with some of the others in the court gallery.

Seth stood, slamming his chair against the wooden banister, waving both his arms and his hands, and exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing Cutter. "Your Honor!?"

Cutter leaned across the wooden bench, viewing Tom. "Mr. Sawyer, do you have a point to your amusing and entertaining question? Or are you amusing and entertaining me for a contempt charge, perhaps?" he chuckled with others in the court gallery.

Tom smiled. "Re-phase, Your Honor. Dr. Baxter, you are a licensed and degreed physician trained to take care of animals and not humans. Animal parted have multiple uses for humans. That's why they are the lower species on the totem pole. For example, young calf stomachs are eaten as cheese from rennet. Catgut is used as musician's strings. Sheep gut is used for racquet strings. Varied animal gut cords are used to produce snare drum's buzzing timbre. Chitterlings are a kind of food from pig's guts fondly eaten by Southerners." Tom turned with a grin to see the nose profile on Seth. "Right, Seth?" He turned and viewed Baxter, exhaling with a huff of amusement. "And pig and calf parts are consumed by humans for a tasty food treat. Do not all animal parts function differently from all biological human parts, trained and licensed veterinarian Hank Baxter?"

Seth stood, figuring out too late Tom's ploy, pointing and yelled to Baxter. "Didn't answer the question, Baxter?"

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning with a nod to Baxter. "Please answer the question for me, Dr. Baxter?"

Baxter exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning and staring at Cutter, saying with a smile and a nod. "Yes."

Sawyer slumped down into his chair, twirling the pencil with a grin and a nod. "Please allow me to summarize here. You state to this court room under oath that parts of animals are different from parts of humans. I am only a lawyer and not a licensed veterinarian. How are you qualified to answer a question about one human anatomy part, if you have only practiced and trained on animal parts?"

"I..." exhaled with a huff of frustration as Baxter shook his skull and viewed his hands.

Tom tossed the pencil over the table surface, saying with a smile and a nod. "I thought so too."

Cutter viewed Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, I do believe it is your turn to re-direct your eye witness."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, sitting and viewing the table surface too. "No questions, Your Honor."

10:34 a.m.

City of Miami Springs (15 miles northwest of courthouse)

The Quartet secret laboratory

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The morning trial session ended.

Baxter was the only key eye witness for the trial for the morning and this provided the Quartet with more time to visit Jace.

The Quartet left the court room, driving to Miami Springs to assist Jace in solving Katt's medical condition which would help her win the legal case.

Jace stood over the computer, printing off individual pieces of papers, turned and moved, distributing to the Quartet with a smile. "Hot off the presses. I have three reports for each one of you to eat, absorb, and burp."

"Looky, I ain't no smart ass doctor." Tom accepted and tossed the paper to the tile, shaking his skull and exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing his wrist watch.

Jace exhaled with a huff of frustration, passing out the reports to the rest of the Quartet. "That's right. You're just a smart ass, Thomas. Read each science paper for the results from the liver tests that I had assigned to my outside research scientists. You might see something that I miss. Or you understand..."

"Don't understand this medical garbage. This is wasting my valuable limited tick-tock time. I'll be in my office, Austin." Tom stood and stomped to the locked laboratory door.

"Tom, I have found in my short term life and long term medical experience sometimes lay-people like you infer different concepts from an outcome while leading to different questions and a new discovery. I need each one of you to read the papers and thoroughly write your interpretations and questions and give them to me. Frank and I will work through the answers and see if we have made any progress that could lead to an antidote for Katt. There's still a missing element. Once it had been identified, I can plug in the holes and solve the puzzle and Katt is completely cured." Jace smiled to each brother.

"Not that easy." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring up see Stu, who had moved and blocked the laboratory door with his mighty bulk.

Austin spied with one eyeball on the ass on Tom, because Tom could feel the invisible heat of brotherhood, so Tom back stepped from Stu and swung back to the sofa. He sat and covered the sofa with his legs and his leathers, scooting up and reading the papers.

Stu stood and bad breathed over Tom's hair roots. "Move over, asshole."

"No. Find another place for your big ass. Taken here." Tom slammed his leathers over the arm rest on the opposite side of short couch too, viewing the papers.

"The whole couch?" Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing the furniture.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted from lawyering. Need the whole sofa for my tired legs. Back off, asshole." Tom wrinkled the paper, getting comfy on the whole couch.

Stu pulled Tom's leathers off the sofa and scooted to an oversized chair in the wall corner as Tom turned and loped his tongue tip out, wiggling it Stu's ass.

Stu turned and saw that tongue wiggle, saying with a sour frown. "I'll remember that act, Thomas."

"Please fuckingly do, because I will repeat it later just for my shitty fun in ten fucking minutes." Tom smiled, reading the papers.

"Tom." Austin viewed the weird words on the page too in confusion. "Read."

11:07 a.m.

"I'm confused. This science report reads that her immune is stopped up." Tom pinged his set of papers, looking up with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Jace.

"No, that is not correct, Tom. The immune system isn't functioning within normal parameters." Frank viewed his papers.

"She eats poisons." Tom nodded to Jace.

"Wrong, Tom." Frank viewed his papers.

Jace said with a smile and a nod. "She excretes the poison, the more apt medical description."

"But..." Tom stood, moving from the sofa to the food table. "She had to eat them first before the material moved last. Isn't that a law of the universe?"

"Law of nature, not the universe," Stu viewed his papers.

"Not right, asshole." Frank viewed his papers.

"Tom has a very good point." Jace pointed his stack of papers with a nod. "The immune system protects against infection by identifying and killing pathogens, bacteria, and germs. The killing germs range from a virus to a single parasitic worm, differing from a body's normal healthy cells and skin tissues. Pathogens or germs can trick a healthy person into getting sick, because they adapt and evolve in new ways to infect the host."

"Hostess, the female version." Tom looked over the fruit with a smile.

"All right, Tom, the hostess in this medical case." Jace chuckled. "The human body internal mechanisms have naturally evolved to recognize and neutralize nasty pathogens, germs, bacteria or toxins which are called defensins or pattern recognition receptors. The human body's immune system holds an array of different types of healthy proteins, cells, organs, and tissues. The healthy cells interact in a changing framework of a biological body to heal and to repair the sick cells over and over..."

"Over a long period of time, the smart defensins recognizes the repeating nasty germs and it creates an immunological imprint of cell memory. This process is called acquired immunity, a third layer of protection for the human body. Vaccinations help replicate this process in the body for a young child, so the young body doesn't get sick or ill." Frank nodded to Jace.

"Disorders can cause disease in the immune system. The scorpion venom did the opposite. It created an auto immune effect in the biological body of Mouse. Autoimmune diseases include rheumatoid arthritis, diabetes, and lupus which affects the critical stages of a person's healthy." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Therefore, Mouse's body had required or needed or consumed the venom to interact with her proteins, cells, organs, and tissues while maintaining a viable immune system within her auto-immune system, so she wouldn't die from the common cold germ." Frank nodded to Jace.

Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Too bad that didn't happen. And we all would be lying on the sandy white beach at Dog Isle instead..."

"Like a drug, right?" Tom said with a nod and a grin.

Jace nodded. "Exactly, Tom. When Nell had quit injecting the scorpion into the cells, her immune system broke down and tainted her physical appearance. The sick yellow color in addition to her dying at the speed of light was the last stage of her life. That was when you and Austin encountered her on the cliff at Ruby Beach."

"A gulp of scorpion would not have helped that metabolic junction in her damaged body. She was well beyond any type of biological repair of her mutant DNA cells." Frank said. "Mouse ran out of money. She had Katt. She wanted Kathleen dead, a long time ago. So the Quartet made it simple for her to create and to execute an elaborate and sophisticated frame up with the 8,063 bodies. This was her last act of revenge for an old buddy from a small farm town called Boyer, Florida."

"If Mouse ate so much poison inside her veins, why didn't her body eject it like green mucus from a common head cold, Jace?" Stu frowned.

"Both of their liver organs secreted the poison or else they'd be dead years ago as an adult. Kattleen is an inherited trait. Mouse was mentally sick injecting a live sample of any type of scorpion venom directly into an arm vein. And the scorpion venom simply sweated out into her victims, literally." Jace exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his skull.

"Hmm, I don't know about that science theory. Do you see a set of puncture wounds from hypo needles on Nell's damaged body, Jace?" Stu frowned.

Jace nodded. "The decaying body was badly parched, but I could see it through a microscope. There were many, many multiple hole puncture wounds which I counted around about 8,063..." He chuckled with the brothers.

"Back to Tom's original question, why's she stopped up?" Austin frowned.

"The liver is a garbage can for the human body. The bile inside the liver acts as a detergent in a dishwasher and drains the detergent through many skin ducts that penetrate the liver. The most important compounds are salts, taurocholic acid, and dexoycholic acid. The salts combine with phospholipids to break down fat into water which is called hydrophilic. The droplets are organized into many micelles, a set of tea leaf tiny cells digested by the liver." Jace said.

"It eats it." Tom said with a nod and a smile.

"When the liver is full..." Jace said with a nod and a smile as Tom belched his lunch. Stu chuckled. Frank frowned. Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration. Jace said. "When the liver is full, the bile serves as a night club bouncer roughly routing the two different salts for excretion out of the liver, creating the enzyme bilirubin."

"Shit. The bilirubin gives bile its yellow color also." Frank nodded.

"The key?" Jace grabbed Katt and Mouse's separate lab reports, reading. "Checking the bile, Frank. Phospholipids. Fat. Salts. Turocholic acid. Dexoycholic acid. Lipids. The minerals have very high readings. And Katt sweats do too. This is another clue."

"The missing variable, sweat." Frank chuckled. "She gets really hot in body temperature when the body sweats salt. There's too much salt inside the liver already and all that salt overflows into her blood stream both safely and naturally."

"Nell had bilirubin in all her organs too. I checked." Jace read. "Stomach. Ileum. Small intestine. Pancreas. Gall bladder. All her minerals have a heavy trace of scorpion toxin too."

"Katt had salt in all those areas instead." Frank said. "They both have abnormal bile levels. They're really the freak of nature girls with non-existence cholesterol. Fats are broken down fast, faster, fastest than a rocket's light speed."

"The girls are skinny, weighing no more than hundred pounds. They really are twins in a chemical sense. Their livers absorbed the toxins at a rate five times normal the standard accumulation and excreted the poisons safely without killing each girl almost like an outer space alien."

Jace exhaled with a huff of frustration. "I'd like to study in more depth Katt..."

"Hell no. Over my gawd damn dead body..." Tom pulled out his Ghost from his suit jacket as Stu shoved Tom's gun hand down, shaking his baldness. Tom said a furious brow. "Cure her, now."

"My solution is to add a watery solution which is rich in zinc that dilutes and decreases the alkalinity of the bilirubin or the bile hepatocytes." Jace said. "Zinc is a nature biological pest control jet spray."

Tom said with a laugh and a nod. "Let's give her zinc vitamins. That'll cure her. It's cheap and available down the street at local drug store. I'll leave, now."

"No, Tom. A human cannot absorb the mineral compound zinc directly. They'll die instantly and painfully." Frank said.

Jace raised his finger. "First problem, retain all the original zinc organic molecules which must also be very small and very strong. The second problem, the immune system will attack and ate any foreign pathogen you insert..."

"Insert? Explain that nasty medical term regarding Katt, Jace?" Tom traced his Ghost inside his jacket, frowning at Jace.

"Let them think and explain, Tom." Austin viewed Jace.

"Maybe, a virus like a worm would work out better inside Kattleen's body." Frank said with a smile and a nod.

Stu frowned. "Like a computer virus to stop a worm that has infected an application."

"Yes, precisely, Stu." Jace nodded to Gage.

"Give her a virus like a cold." Tom said with a nod and a smile.

"Not right, Tom." Frank said.

"Mechanical, chemical, and biological physical barriers prevent the pathogens, such as, bacteria and viruses from entering the body. The lungs cough and sneeze mechanically and it ejects out any pathogens from the respiratory tract." Jace said.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning and moving, and stopped, looking over the food on the table. "Just say bad cold, Jace. Jeezus, I'm sick and tired of translating the medical babble from the Lab Coats." He grabbed the fruit, back stepping and moving to sat at the eating table.

"Tears and urine mechanically expel the mucus particles secreted and trapped inside the gastrointestinal tract." Jace said.

"Stomach flu." Tom mouth spat his food particles over the clean table.

"The skin sweats the accumulated salt from her bile both as a chemical and mechanical barrier. Can we stop her skin from sweating?" Jace said.

"Deodorant is a lot cheaper than multi-vitamins." Tom mouth spat more food particles over the table.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank frowned.

"Maybe, we can attack it chemically." Jace said. "The skin and respiratory tract secretly excrete antimicrobial peptides against any type of infection. Saliva, tears, and breast milk are anti-bacterium. In the stomach, gastric acid kills ingested pathogens."

"Is that why you get stomach aches to bad food?" Stu asked.

"Exactly, Stu." Jace nodded. "The stomach acid and proteases serve as a powerful chemical defense barrier. Genitourinary and gastrointestinal tract flora serves as the biological barriers by competing with the germs for food and space. The biological barrier changes the environment, so the pathogens or germs cannot grow in number, causing an illness in the body. If a pathogen breaches these barriers, the innate immune system provides an immediate response."

"Like an attacking jet fighter." Tom nodded.

"Right, Tom." Frank nodded. "If the pathogen gets passed into the innate chemical system, there's a third layer of protection, the adaptive immune system. Both the innate and adaptive immunity distinguish sick and healthy proteins, enzymes, tissues, cells, organs, and skin."

"Antigens are the short term for antibody generators." Jace said. "Most antibodies target bacteria and are not affected fungi like DC-cells."

"DC is the dendritic cells, mediators of allergic reactions like asthma. NK-cells attack and destroy the cancer cells. B-cells come from bone marrow. Killer T-cells do not kill the infected cells or clear germs from the liver." Frank said.

"She can be touched. I will repeat the secret information for all eardrums here inside my private laboratory. Katt can be touched while her epidermis is cool or cold temperatures surround her body. The cold air negates the deadly poisons inside her warm body, since the nasty poisons come out for their date during sweat or heated summertime air flow." Jace said

"Hot babe. That's definitely a new twist to the sizzling meaning," chuckled Stu.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom turned with a sour frown, narrowing his eyelids at Gage.

"Oral antibiotics can lead to yeast infections." Frank said.

"Don't start with the female stuff, Frank." Tom turned red with embarrassment.

"Lookie, Tommy's a fugly ugly thin strawberry." Stu pointed to Tom with a laugh.

"I would not suggest penicillin either. She would become immune in three days or less based on her rapid generating super-duper immune system." Frank said. "And too much yeast infection causes too much yeast."

"Don't start again with the female stuff, Frank." Tom blushed in red again.

Frank lifted his palm with a frown to Jace. "Hold on, Tom. I'm making a point. When women eat yogurt, it helps restore a balance of microbial population within the intestinal infection within the female reproductive system along with any bacterial gastroenteritis, inflammatory bowel diseases, urinary tract infection, and postsurgical infections..."

"Vaginal secretions serve as a chemical barrier, when they become slightly acidic, Frank." Jace said.

"She had too much acid and not a lack of it, Jace." Frank nodded.

"Semen contains defensins of zinc that kill pathogens." Jace frowned.

"Semen!?" Frank frowned, staring down at the old lab reports of Katt's blood and skin specimen tests.

"Semen is a nature defense mechanism inside the body." Jace said.

"Hello. She's a girl not a guy, double dumb shits. The smart ass doctors need two pair of corrective eyeglasses, Austin." Tom smiled and pointed to the Lab Coats.

"If she had semen installed into her system?" Frank parted his lips with a nod.

"The Lab Coats are making up their nonsense sentences again, Austin. Frank needs a vacation immediately so back we go to Spain, boys." Tom smiled.

"Are her temperatures low?" Frank viewed Katt's lab reports for the answer.

Jace searched Katt's lab report too and pointed to the paper. "Here, I got them. BBT is 101.3 degrees. Very high. I thought maybe from the extra salt excreting into her liver. Biphadic pattern presents at 101.7. The normal human body temperature is 96.8. She is 4.6 degrees higher. She's heavy."

"And very ready, she is more than ready like willing." Frank nodded, seeing Katt's lab report.

"Katt holds both high levels of estrogen and high levels of progesterone. Progesterone releases corpus luteum after an ovulation raised the BBTs. The rise occurs the day after, so she's consistence with her progesterone, since day one. I have gathered a blood pin prick to prove her innocence, of course. And I tracked it. See the chart here, Frank," Jace pointed to the Katt's report.

Frank said. "This is a constant, Jace. This is the answer, Jace. The acidic canal and an alkaline watery organism is acid fighting acid."

Jace said. "Actually, it is acid complimenting acid. Equal match. The survival of the fittest, Frank," chuckled with Frank, staring down at the report.

"Austin, make them explain their secret code." Tom frowned.

"Just listen, Tom." Austin watched as the Lab Coat chuckled and conversed with their medical terms.

"Conception will change the environment. Hair grows. Skin glows. Proteins double. Tissue strengthens. Red blood cells increase." Jace said. "Damn, I cannot believe that I didn't see and get the connection."

"Her red blood cells are enlarged." Frank pointed the report. "She produces too much blood which drains into her liver and the liver breaks it down by her bile into the bilirubin enzymes. The bilirubin enzymes excrete it through her body and her sweat droplets drain it through her outer epidermis skin."

"She had enough blood for two maybe, three bodies." Frank grinned. "I'd guess that the biological transference would shift all the needed blood flow, nourishing a new one for an automatic biological barrier of her body, but I couldn't guess at the survival rate of a new one, Jace."

"No need for our purpose, Frank. There'll be no more excess drained into her liver. No more excess bile. No more excess bilirubin. No more excess toxins. You're right, Frank. This will work, perfectly." Jace said.

"Too easy, Jace." Frank slapped the collar bone of with a nod and a grin.

"You're a genius, Frank." Jace slapped the collar bone of Frank with a nod and a grin.

"No. You are, sir." Frank shook Jace's hand.

Jace nodded with a smile. "No..."

"Both of you are geniuses. Now, what did the geniuses could up with?" Stu frowned.

"Impregnate her." Frank swung to see Austin, saying with a nod and a smile.

"What!?" Austin stood and shouted the word out of character. The boss of the Quartet always remained both cool and unruffled in his stern hard-ass emotions and did not show any feelings.

Tom stood as a pile of orange peels fell to the floor, pulling out his Ghost, shifting it to Frank first. Stu stood, guiding over Tom and jerked the Ghost from Tom's two-fisted grip. Sawyer stared at Frank and Jace, shaking his hands and his bangs, yelling. "No. No way. I object over my gawd damn fucking body. No."

Stu nodded. Both Frank and Jace needed a few days of vacation on Dog Isle. He exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his baldness, storing Tom's Ghost in his jacket pocket. "You can't touch her. How can you impregnate her, Jace?" He moves closer to Frank and Jace for their protection from a pissed off Sawyer.

"An operation," Jace said with a nod and a grin at Austin.

"I object." Tom shouted, stomping closer to Frank with a future bleeding of Mangrove's nose.

"Listen, Tom." Austin stood, shifting closer to protect Frank from Tom's wild punch.

"BBT is a fertility awareness like a charting pattern of conceiving." Jace said with a nod and a smile. "Think of it like a green light fertility sign for go."

"You mean like a fuck me now sign." Stu said with a chuckle and a nod.

Tom slapped the bicep on Stu, standing inside the tight huddle of brothers and Jace in the middle of the laboratory. "Gawd, you're gross, Stu." He crossed his arms, frowning at Frank and Jace.

"The Basal basic temperature is a measurement in females for charting a series of lower temps before ovulation and an array of higher temps after ovulation. Ovulation causes an increase of one-half to one-degree Fahrenheit of BBT. Katt is presenting at 101.4 which is 4.6 degrees higher. She's ovulating, very heavy." Frank shuffled to Tom's face, whispering with a smile. "Fuck her, literally," he chuckled.

Tom shoved Frank from his face, shaking his hands and his bangs with a sour frown. "Hold up there, assholes. Ya better explain this in a set of great, big medical details rather than fuck her. Or I'll pull my Ghost and start shooting some toes off, after I beat the shit out of Stu for stealing my personal security weapon."

"Pay attention, Tom. Jace'll explain." Austin shuffled closer to Jace, in case Tom attacked the other smart ass physician.

"Semen is an organic fluid." Jace nodded.

"Know that. We're men. We produce on a daily basis." Stu chuckled.

Frank grinned. "Jace means to say that semen is a watery solution with organic constituents such as zinc. A vagina is a hostile vicious environment with acidic immunization cells for the semen."

"Like soldiers," Tom nodded to the twin asshole Lab Coats.

"Precisely, Tom," Jace nodded. "The components in the seminal plasma or sperm contain the minerals of amino acids, citrate, flavins, fructose..."

"That's sugar." Tom nodded.

"Right, Tom." Jace nodded. "Proteins and vitamin C..."

"All in my sperm," Tom nodded.

"Correct, Tom." Jace nodded. "Which is responsible for the smell and flavor of semen..."

Tom viewed Big Man, saying with a giggle and a grin. "Stu, do you smell your manly sperm?"

Stu growled, leaning into Tom for some harm. "Back off, Thomas."

Tom back pedaled, shaking his bangs and his hands, giggling, "Just curious, Big Man."

"The point, the alkaline base counteracts the acidic environment of the canal that protects the semen from acidic denaturation." Frank nodded.

"Those are really some big ass fucking medical words, Frank." Tom shook his bangs, frowning.

"The sperm does not disintegrate or burn or die in the pussy." Frank viewed Tom with a smile. "Does this translate better, Tom?" Tom smiled as Frank continued. "The sperm cells swim around and through the vagina canal until it attaches to an egg or dies fighting a tough life."

Tom chuckled, "Short life."

"The sperm fluid provides a protective medium during travel to the egg with its built-in enzymes of acid phosphatase, citric acid, fibrinolysin, and zinc. Zinc serves to destroy any pathogens that are trying to attack the spermatozoa." Jace said.

"Like a general." Tom nodded.

"Exactly, Tom," Jace nodded. "If the zinc deficiency is low due to sperm fragility, then the fertility count is low or the possibility of nonexistence, meaning no conception."

"No baby." Tom nodded.

"Right, Tom," Jace nodded. "We need to inject Kattleen with an antibody. That is recognized as a native element and not a foreign cell to her immune system. Or the antigen will fall under attack with B-lymphocytes. These are white cells, Killer T-cells, Helper T-cells, etc. These cells will destroy it, immediately."

"Her immune system is too strong and too efficient. You both agreed on that medical fact a couple of sentences ago." Tom said.

"Good man." Jace nodded. "You were really listening and keeping up with the medical babble, Tom."

"What does all this translate into for Katt, gentlemen? I wasn't keeping up, 'because I'm thoroughly confused and befuddled." Stu frowned to Frank and Jace.

"So am I, Stu." Austin said to Frank.

"The zinc enzyme in the sperm can guide safely through the cervix of acid to one of the Fallopian tubes and straight to an egg. And the fertilization is completed. Contact. Conception." Jace said.

"Sperm and egg date, mate, and fuck to produce a baby." Tom nodded.

"At conception, the female body automatically shifts all barriers to protect herself from any type of hurt which is illustrated by bodily mechanisms, her vital signs. Her heart rate increases. Her muscle tone decreases. She had heavy gland production. Her hormones increase. Her fast tissue regeneration is visually seen with long hair growth. Her skin glows and her metabolism increases." Jace said. "Within the newly conceived fetus, the new mother shares her body with the baby, including the proteins, cells, enzymes, and blood."

"Currently, Kattleen had enlarged red blood cells. She overproduces blood inside her body that directly goes into the liver as bile. And the bile turns to tons of liquid poison toxins. The poison toxins scatter throughout her body which is later expelled as sweat from her heated skin or hands. Now, Jace's new medical operation details like so. When her body shifts the excess blood into the newly conceived fetus for the baby's nourishment the biological act will change Katt's chemical environment permanently. Kattleen will no longer produce deadly toxins and drain them into her liver. When the baby is birthed her body will revert back to an adjusted normal function process of her liver without any heavy bilirubin amounts, floating inside her biology system, maybe. This is still a working research theory." Frank said.

"I'm working on the postulated clinical theory that Katt's body is out of balance. The fetus will balance Katt's hormone, glands, proteins, cells, blood, and organs. The fetus is the catalyst that will shift Katt's balance from abnormal into normal." Jace said.

Tom raised his palm with a sour frown. "Hold up. Phil is trying to find a child."

Jace frowned to Tom. "There's no child. Katt's a virgin."

"Are you certain, Jace?" Stu parted his lips.

"I'm a medical doctor, Stu. If Katt had conceived a child at seventeen years old age like the wicked Boyer folks are lying about, she would not have a bilirubin problem today and her body would have completely cured itself with my working theory." Jace nodded.

"My gawd." Tom dropped his mouth. "This means that Mrs. Hartmann is absolutely wrong about Katt's baby."

"Totally wrong." Jace said with a nod and a grin.

"So who fucked her dead husband then?" Stu frowned at Austin.

"Mouse." Jace nodded.

"Good gawd." Stu dropped his mouth. "Her daddy fucked his own daughter."

Frank pointed to Tom, viewing Austin. "I thought you told him, Austin."

Austin pointed to Tom, viewing Frank. "I thought you told him, Frank."

Frank viewed Tom with a grin and a nod. "Austin and I had learned that tidbit of data from Tiberius."

"Holy fucking shit!" Tom yelled jumping up and down, shaking his skull and his bangs. "Ya fucking twin assholes, ya didn't tell me?" jabbing a manicured fingernail at Austin and Frank. "Do you know how important this tidbit of data is for me? For Katt? Holy fucking shit." He formed his hands into a circle, saying with a furious tone. "I should fuckingly strangle your fucking throats with my new set of manicured fingernails. Gimme my Ghost, Stu? Time for a tap dance lesson from my caring brothers," he turned with a growl to see Stu.

Stu laughed, patting his jacket with Tom's Ghost.

"Sorry, Tom. We didn't believe him." Austin nodded.

"Did you write his fucking story down?" Tom turned with a sneer to see Austin.

"Better than that, we tape recorded it." Frank said with a nod and a grin.

Tom danced side to side, shouting. "Gawd damn it. Do you know how pissed I am at you, two asswipes? Where's the fucking damn tape?" He exhaled with a huff of fury.

"In my office...," grinned Frank.

Tom extended his palm, shaking his hand. "Want it. Want it, now."

"Calm down, Tom. You'll get it, this afternoon." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, nodding to Jace. "We must finish here inside the laboratory, first. You're brilliant, Jace and Frank. What's the next step, gentlemen?"

"The implantation process of semen goes directly into Katt, creating an embryo. Remember, the vital point of the medical operation is to change her biological environment and get her chemically back into body balance. This will stop the excretion of bilirubin toxins." Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"Could Nell have used the same medical treatment proposed by you, Jace, also?" Austin said. He wished to give her a second life for her second death by him, personally.

Frank chuckled at Austin's death wish of killing Nell by his bare hands.

"She had inflicted the venom into her body and died. Period. The end. Final." Jace nodded with the understanding of Austin's deadly wish too.

"What for, Austin?" Stu frowned at the weird-ass question.

"The fetus is the least of my worries, regarding Jace's delicate medical protocol. She wears that space suit all the time. She lives in the containment cell 24/7 within lots of guarded and manned soldiers from the state of Florida court order. The court order holds Katt inside the US federal prison. Can she get out for thirty minutes from her containment cell, Stu?" Frank viewed Stu with nod and a worried brow.

"No way." Tom shook his bangs and his hands with the understanding of Frank's plan.

"Fifteen minutes then?" Frank nodded.

Tom shook his bangs and his hands. "Hell no. We cannot get her out even if I explained to Cutter that she was having a heart attack. We have a set of medical teams 24/7 for any emergency disaster at the US federal prison which is paid by us and approved by Cutter. Remember, Austin?" He turned and viewed Austin.

Austin nodded.

"Holy crap." Frank viewed the tile.

"Another damn problem," Stu shook his baldness with a worried brow.

"A great big gawd damn problem," Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his bangs. "We're running out of time. And Father Time ain't waiting for us or a heavenly miracle a-coming, either."

"Either, Seth." Frank viewed Tom with a nod and a worried brow.

"Gawd. Don't mention that bastard's name to me here. I'll puke on your new leathers, Frank." Tom said with a sour tone to Frank.

"There's a third problem, gentlemen." Frank said. "Sperm!?"

"Sperm bank, your problem is solved." Tom clapped with a grin and a giggle.

Jace leaned to the nose profile on Frank's face. "I'll discuss that with you later, Frank." He looked to each brother. "Back to the second problem. How do we get Katt out of the containment cell? I need fifteen minutes at the most for the minor operation, a simple fertility implant into her vagina. I can read your nasty minds. This medical procedure is very safe, easy, and hopefully effective for her and us," grinning.

3:13 p.m.

Miami Dade Courthouse

Continuation of court trial day two

Hot temperature with bright sunshine

The afternoon session of day two of the murderess trial had begun.

Inside the court room, Seth stood in front of the witness box, saying with a nod and a smile to her. "Please state your name for the jury."

"Mrs. Matthew Adams Hartmann, the eighth. My Henry's nickname was Henry, the eighth. He called..."

Seth faked a smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Hartmann." The assistant district attorney Keith Newman had debriefed Mrs. Hartmann to use a series of short answers, but she was too stubborn and dumb to follow the prosecution script. Seth nodded. "Where do you live, Mrs. Hartmann?"

She said with a nod and a toothless grin. "My Henry's buried in the Boyer cemetery near our house built the year 1923..."

"Boyer, Florida. Thank you, Mrs. Hartmann." Seth nodded, playing out her role, cutting off her vile statement without embarrassing him and the prosecution team to death with her ridicule silly responses and non-relevant data. Since, the useless information would confuse the jury into thinking that she was not a good character eye witness against Kattrell.

She frowned to Seth. "Ya knows, toos. Ya sees me, there yesterday, giving money..."

"I recalled our visit, Mrs. Hartmann. Please state your answer with one word responses for the ease of the jury. Do you know the defendant named Kathleen Scarlett Kattrell?"

"Yup." She viewed Katt inside the glass box, nodding with a sour frown.

"Do you see Miss Kattrell present inside this court room?"

She yelled and pointed to Katt. "Over yonder there, ya blind or what? I sees her over yonder there and the rest of the folks sees her toos..."

"One word responses please, Mrs. Hartmann. Have you ever encountered her in the town of Boyer, Florida?"

"En...count...ed!? What ya means?" She looked down and viewed her big purse inside her lap and up to see Seth with a sour frown.

"Did Miss Kattrell visit you at your house in Boyer, Florida?" Seth said with a nod and a smile.

"Hell..."

Cutter turned and frowned to her. "Mrs. Hartmann, I do not allow cursing inside my court room."

She parted her lips, scanning the room with a toothless grin. "Ya owns this building, judge," she turned and smile to him. "Ya shore gots a lots of stuff like a rich man. I's currently..."

Cutter said with a smile and a nod to her. "Madam, I do not own the building. The city of Miami does. I am referring to the conduct of the people in this building."

"Conducting a band?" She frowned.

Seth faked a smile. "Mrs. Hartmann, Judge Cutter is talking about the manner of a person's language in addressing any legal questions inside the court house."

She turned with a sour tone and a lady sneer to Stu. "Ya's calling me dumb, sonny. I's gots corns older than you..."

Soft sniggers invaded the room.

"Silence, please." Cutter softly said with a smile and a nod.

Seth firmly said, staring at her. "Mrs. Hartmann, Judge Cutter would like all of us to avoid curse words on the witness stand. Can you reframe from using cuss words?"

She said with a nod and a toothless smile. "Yup. Should tells me so. I's cans be a real southern lady, toos..."

"Did Miss Kattrell visit you at your residential home in Boyer, Florida?"

"Nope. Worked for my Henry's Nursing Home that my Henry owned. He gots money, millions," she turned and pointed to Tom and Austin. Mrs. Hartmann met them at her house in June. "I's rich just like ya'll's people over yonder there, toos," she smiled to Tom.

Tom slightly nodded with a grin to her, showing off is South Florida gentleman manners too.

"What were Miss Kattrell's job functions at the Boyer Nursing Home owned by your husband, Mr. Hartmann?"

"She killed my Henry." She turned with a sour frown and pointed to Katt in the glass box.

Cutter parted his lips, turning and viewing her. "Mrs. Hartmann, did you witness the murder of your husband?"

"Nope. Assumed..."

Cutter shook his skull at her. "Mrs. Hartmann, please state only the facts that you saw with your own two eyes." She turned and nodded to Cutter, squeezing her big purse.

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Did you see Miss Kattrell murder your husband, Mrs. Hartmann? Please answer yes or no."

"Nope." She turned with a sour frown and exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking her curls.

"Did you see Miss Kattrell steal items, such, as money, drug medications, medical supplies from the business office which was owned by your husband, Mr. Hartmann?"

"Nope. Ain't ya going to ask what I saw?" She turned and nodded with a smile to Katt.

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a nod to her nose profile. "What did you see Miss Kattrell do at the Boyer Nursing Home which was owned by your husband?"

"She had sex with my Henry." She nodded and jabbed a finger to Katt.

Cutter smirked. "Is that a crime, Mrs. Hartmann?"

"Well, uh, in The Bible, it's a damn broken law of God."

Cutter smirked. "Those laws are very important for a religious person's belief for obtaining heavenly entrance, Mrs. Hartmann. I believe in the law of God, also."

She turned and winked to Cutter with a toothless smile. "Ya be a good man, judge. Ya married?"

Cutter cleared his throat, saying with a smile and a nod. "I am happily married for forty seven years. Thank you for inquiring, Mrs. Hartmann. However, in a court of legal proceedings here on planet Earth, in the city of Coral Gables whilest we are not trying to obtain entrance into heaven, we judge people based on the criminal laws and not on secular rules."

"What'da ya say, judge?" She frowned at Cutter.

Cutter said with a smile and a nod. "Mrs. Hartmann, adultery is not a criminal offense like murder. Mrs. Hartmann, what else did you see that Miss Kattrell performed inside the business office of the Boyer Nursing Home?"

"She had a baby with my Henry and solds the kid on the black market for drugs and money, toos." She turned and pointed to Katt with a nod.

"Did your deceased husband offer to care for the unborn child and the young mother, Mrs. Hartmann?" Seth smirked to the nose profile on Henrietta.

"Yup, my Henry dids and she runs away as fast as she coulds. And gots money for the kid." She turned and nodded to Seth.

Austin punched the bicep on Tom, hearing the lie. The members from the state of Florida governor's special appointed investigation team sat in the court gallery and heard the lie, too. She had told the group in her home in Boyer, Florida in June that her husband had refused to pay any monetary funding for the emotional, mental or physical support to Katt and Katt's baby.

Tom elbowed Austin with the silence acknowledgement, swing his face to Peter.

Peter sat behind the empty chair of Seth, hearing the truth that day in Boyer, Florida during Mrs. Hartmann's official legal interview also. Tom could subpoena all the members the special governor's team, recounting their independent stories about the baby, the money, and the bastard but he would not.

Peter exhaled with a huff of frustration, looking down and viewing his worn leathers.

Seth smirked with a nod to her face. "Did you see her with any drugs, Mrs. Hartmann?"

She shook her curls. "Nope. Gives medicines to them old farts, 'cuz that be her job. Gots them there free of charge and sells them for lots of dollar money."

"Did you see Miss Kattrell perform any of her work duties in the Boyer Nursing Home?"

"Nope. My Henry tolds me, she worked there at night time." She nodded.

"Did you see the baby?"

"She be a few months and too skinny to shows a round bump. Runs away like I says, since Matt lets her escape from them jail bars," she turned and sneered to Katt.

Seth smirked with a nod to her nose profile, turning and viewing the jury, and pressed down his same business suit with his dry hands, saying with a smile and a nod. "Let us summary for the jury now. Miss Kattrell worked for Mr. Hartmann at the Boyer Nursing Home which is located in Boyer, Florida for her working payroll wages. She had access to the Boyer Nursing Home patient and their personal medical prescriptions. She was pregnant a few months with an unborn baby belonging to Mr. Hartmann. Your husband offered child support and fatherly care for both Miss Kattrell and the baby. But Miss Kattrell left the small farm town of Boyer while moving her and the baby to the metro city of Miami, Florida instead," he turned with a smile to see her. "Do I have all the details of your story correct which has been confirmed and verified by you, Mrs. Hartmann?"

"Ya misses the part of them dead peoples." She frowned and viewed Katt.

"What are you referencing....dead people?" Seth frowned with shock.

She shrugged her shoulder, turning and staring at Seth. "Them old farts dies every night in Henry's Nursing Home. No one cares, no family, either. Mystery to the doc, toos."

Seth turned and viewed the jury, saying with a nod and a smile. "Please allow me to summary again for the eardrums of the jury. The state of Florida governor's special appointed investigational team visited the town of Boyer on June twelfth. They had recorded and documented that historical medical fact too, Mrs. Hartmann."

She nodded to Seth. "Town's dead, ya know. In Boyer, the folks, kids, babies, ma's, pa's, all's dead on the next day," she turned with a sour frown and a lady sneer, pointing to Katt. "She kills them all includes the kids and babes..."

Cutter turned and viewed the court recorder, saying with a stern face. "Strike that from the record, please."

The court recorder typed, saying with a nod. "Yes Your Honor."

Cutter turned and frowned to her. "Mrs. Hartmann, I have cautioned you to speak only the facts that you have seen with your own two eyes."

She turned with a sad brow and a nod to see Cutter. "I sees them dead. All them sweet babies and folks in Boyer dead."

"Have the police discovered the murderer, Mrs. Hartmann?" Seth frowned with the new shocking data.

Cutter turned and viewed the jury. "Jury members, please allow me to clarify. It is a very tragedy time for the small farm town of Boyer, Florida. The entire town died in one evening of a mysterious disease, except for Mrs. Hartmann. She was found the next day well and alive inside her house during a restful sleep. As of today, the deaths are a complete mystery. The FBI authorities are investigating. This tragic but interesting information does not impact the murder trial of Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell."

"Ya forgets them yellow livers." She turned with a sour frown to see the rear skull of Cutter.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a nod and a stern face to the jury. "I will digress, momentarily. Each tragic victim had contained a yellow liver when the victim was autopsied during this on-going criminal investigation." He turned and frowned to her. "We will be ending this discussion, Mrs. Hartmann. Please continue, Mr. Hamilton." He looked down to write notes on his paper.

Soft mumbled invade the room.

Seth said with a nod and a smile. "Mrs. Hartmann, do I have your statement correct? Katt was paid money to work for Mr. Hartmann at his business nursing home which also gave her free access to the patient's prescription medical medications. She wasn't arrested or detained during these years of any criminal charges while working at the Boyer Nursing Home or living in the town of Boyer. And she was carrying an unborn baby which was conceived by your husband Matthews Adams Hartmann, VIII. Katt elected not to accept any type of child support, leaving the city of Boyer and moving to Miami, Florida."

"Ya gots it right, sir." She said with a nod and a smile to Seth and Katt.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hartmann. No more questions for her, Your Honor." Seth back stepped with a nod and a smile, turning and moving to his table, and smirked at the hair roots on Sawyer.

"Mr. Sawyer, your witness for questions." Cutter viewed the hair roots on Tom.

"No questions, Your Honor." Tom sat as first chair at the defense table, looking down and scribbling with his pencil on the paper notepad.

5:14 p.m.

City of Miami Springs (15 miles northwest of courthouse)

The Quartet secret laboratory

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The murderess trial had adjourned for the day.

In the early evening, the Quartet minus Austin travel back to the secret Quartet laboratory with Jace.

They sat around the furniture snacking and debating about the key eye witnesses in the court.

Jace swung around from his work counter, sitting on the stool, saying with a nod to Frank. "The sperm?"

"Our third problem." Frank sat at the work station next to Jace.

"Who's going to do it?" Jace scanned the faces of the remaining brothers.

"Do what?" Tom chewed with his snack before his dinner with Jane, this evening.

"Donate." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Donate what?" Tom chewed and viewed Jace.

"You know." Jace smiled.

"Know what?" Tom chewed.

"You know." Frank turned with a nod and a grin to see Sawyer.

"Don't know what. Tell me? So I don't have to guess what I don't know." Tom ate the snack. Jace stood and moved, leaning down to the nose bridge on Tom, whispering the secret words. Tom laughed, shooting food particles across the floor, on Jace, and the sofa. "Sperm."

Jace back stepped, frowning and wiping off the food particles from his lab coat, and sat, saying with a nod to the brothers. "The medical operation requires a specimen. Where do think I'm going to get it, Tom?"

"Try down the street and..." Stu pointed to the window with a chuckle.

Tom sneered to Gage. "Get serious, Stu. We can't go down the street," chewing his snack.

Jace nodded. "We're going to need..."

"If ya need sperm, go down the street." Stu pointed to the window with a laugh.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom frowned at Stu.

"I need tough sperm." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Repeat that, Jace," Tom laughed, shooting more food particles on his clothes, flicking them off with his manicured fingernails.

"Her chemistry has a high level of acids." Jace said.

"Acid. She can melt you like the Wicked Witch of the West." Stu chuckled.

"Not on the outside, dumbshit. Inside her fluids, her water molecules have high traces of acidic molecule particles." Frank frowned to Gage. "Our brilliant family member has figured out what is causing her unique medical condition. Once she gets fixed, Kattleen will be a normal female. This miracle will save her life, literally too, since slithering Seth has court ordered these medical tests on Kattleen's blood, tissues, and sweat from her hands also."

"That's the problem?" Jace said with a sour frown and a nod to the brothers.

"How so?" Stu frowned to the Lab Coats.

"The sperm will die." Jace said.

"Incinerated, to be medically precise for my brothers." Frank said with a smile and a nod.

"Ya lied to me, Jace. Shit. She can't be impregnated." Tom busted up the orange fruit, eating the juicy meat.

"Is that right, Jace?" Stu frowned.

"Jace, answer the question for the youngsters?" Frank grinned.

Jace smiled, "Only with tough sperm."

"Tough sperm?" Tom mouth spat more food particles at the twin Lab Coats.

"Who has got a batch of tough sperm, Jace?" Stu chuckled. Frank grinned and Jace smiled.

"Large men, small men, wimpy men, strong men, blondes, brunette, red haired men?" Tom frowned.

"I'd have to test all these scientific theories, Thomas." Jace chuckled.

"We don't have time for tests, Jace." Tom stood, tossing the orange peels into the trash can.

"What's the solution, Jace?" Stu said with a worried brow.

"Trial and experimentation?" Jace shrugged his shoulder.

"Not on her, ya don't?" Tom jabbed a manicured finger with a sneer at Jace.

Frank grinned. "No asshole. The lab tests need to be trialed and experimented. Jeezus, Tom, think with your brain and not your balls for once."

"O." Tom sucked on the juice of the fruit slice.

"Protective, isn't he?" Jace grinned to Frank.

"Like a tiger..." Frank chuckled.

"I remembered when Tom was holding the rope for the gallows." Stu chuckled.

"The axe for the guillotine..." Frank grinned.

Stu grinned. "The..."

Tom said with a nod and a grin. "She's my client. I always protect my client, come hell or heaven. Right or wrong..."

"Guilty or not?" Stu grinned.

"Touché." Frank leaned over with a chuckle and fist-bumped with Stu on the sofa.

Tom hissed, tossing a fruit slice at each brother as Frank dodged the juicy bullet. Stu caught and ate it, chewing with a grin.

Jace sneered. "Back to the tough sperm, pups. How are we going to figure that one out, Frank?" Frank shrugged his shoulder with a frown.

"You are the doctors of Frankenstein. Speculate. Formulate. Hypothesize. Guess." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, walking to the food table for more snacks. "Do sperm have properties?"

"Properties?" Jace grinned.

Tom slapped his legs, wiping off the fruit juice, selecting cookies. "Holy fucking shit. I do all the thinking around here. Ya know like a special chemistry, biology, physical..."

Frank grinned. "Biologically, it comes from men," chuckled with Jace and Stu.

"Brilliant, asshole." Tom swung around, shaking his bangs, eating two cookies at the same time with an open mouth.

"We need a man." Stu turned with a chuckle to see the nose profile on Frank.

Tom moved to his chair, sitting and chewing. "More manly brilliant deduction reasoning, coming asswipe number two who is known as Stuart Gage. I'm the only bastard who's thinking here," he viewed Jace. "How about running some blood tests?"

"No blood in sperm, Tom." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

Tom swallowed, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his new business jacket. "A tough man produces a tough sperm with no blood. That's the best medical clinical logic ya got, Jace. Jeezus, can we hire another world renowned medical researcher, tomorrow? No. There's no time. Okay? How about a large man?" He chewed two more cookies with his mouth open.

"No." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Short man?" Tom chewed with his mouth open.

"No."

"Certain color skin of man?"

"No."

"Sperm size of the man?" Tom chews.

"Large. Small. Round. Flat. Thick. Thin. Potent. Non potent." Jace chuckled for annoyance to Tom.

"You're shitting on me, now, Jace?" Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, eating two more cookies with his mouth open.

"You asked, Thomas." Frank chuckled.

"There are numerous scientific papers about that very topic, Frank." Jace grinned.

"Is it colored?" Tom chewed with his mouth open.

"No." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

Tom viewed Stu, saying with a giggle and a grin. "Colored? Do black men produce black sperm?" And he hooted and laughed with his fun amusement.

Stu parted his lips at Tom, saying softly "No."

Tom wiggled side to side, saying with a giggle and a grin. "Just asking? Ya know the world wants to know?" He smirked to Stu.

"And you and the world need to learn something else new for today, Thomas." Stu turned with a sneer to see Tom.

"Don't ya look at your sperm, man?" Tom smiled.

"Tom." Frank said with a worried brow before he had to carry Tom to the Charity emergency department for a broken bone and other damaged body parted.

"Why not, Stu?" Tom smiled.

"We're off the main topic of discussion, gentlemen." Jace said with a worried brow too.

"Gracie has your sperm, so ya don't see them, man." Tom smiled.

Stu stood for Tom's beating as Frank stood and blocked Stu from killing Tom, shaking his skull, pointing to the food table in the rear of the room.

Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration, yelling over the hair roots on Frank to Tom. "Mention Gracie in that undignified rude context again, Thomas, and you'll be minus a ball or two," snorting.

"It's a discussion theory, man. Calm down." Tom wiped his greasy hands on his new trousers, chewing the last cookie.

"Calm down, Gage." Frank shoved Stu back to the food table. "Eat and be happy now," grinning as Gage snorted and turned to the food table.

Tom grinned, tossing his semi-clean hands. "Fine. So we need a big fat thick round potent sperm."

"Whose?" Stu stopped and surveyed the food items, selecting a slice of key lime pie.

"It's not a question of whom as what." Frank grinned, sitting on the stool beside Jace.

"Explain, Frank," Stu swung around and moved to his chair with the pie.

Frank said with a smile and a nod. "It's the size of the penis that creates a tough sperm."

Tom laughed. "You're full out shit, Frank."

"I'm not, Tom." Frank smiled.

"Frank's correct." Jace nodded.

"Both of ya'll are full of horse shit. Right, Stu?" Tom laughed and viewed Stu.

"The smallest man standing up at two feet and one inch can produce tough sperm, Tom." Jace said with a nod and a grin.

"Get a midget." Stu smiled and ate. Frank and Jace grinned.

"Didn't appreciate your fucking kick-ass tone, Big Man." Tom reached for his Ghost as Frank leaned over and slapped Tom's hand, shaking his skull at his silly brother.

"Gawd. We should experimentation on that unique theorem, Frank." Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"We don't have time, today." Frank smiled.

"Ya'll are sick both mentally and emotionally. What the fuck is the next step, Jace?" Tom frowned, massaging his jacket pocket with his finger and maybe shooting some toes off would improve the intelligence of the twin Lab Coats. "Doing the thinking here again? Smart ass physicians, why do I and the world need ya?"

"Tom." Frank frowned.

"Is there a scale?" Tom flipped his hand, saying with a sour frown to Jace.

"Scale!?" Jace frowned.

"Is there a scale to for the measurement of the penis?" Tom asked.

"No, stupid." Frank grinned.

"Is there a scale for the measurement of the quality of the sperm?" Tom asked.

"No." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"Wait a sec," Stu stood and moved to the desktop computer of the laboratory. "The internet might hold some answers for us."

"Internet, shit. That's not very scientific, Stu." Tom stood and moved to the computer, shaking his bangs.

"It's close enough in my book." Jace nodded, huddling around Stu, Tom and Frank. Stu sat and typed on the desktop computer.

"You're just like Dr. Frankenstein, making it up." Tom stood next to Jace, observing the computer screen.

"Pardon me here, Tom?" Jace viewed the computer screen.

"You know what I mean." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at the computer screen.

"Don't you just make it up in a court of law, Tom?" Frank viewed the computer screen.

"Yeah, I think quickly on my feet. Sometimes I dance a jig to get the verdict of not guilty." Tom said and stared at the computer screen.

Stu pressed the button and printed out the paper, grabbing the page. "Well, man. You're going to be dancing a fucking polka for this not guilty verdict." He stared at the page and read out loud. "Sperm cells cannot divide and have a limited life span. They fuse with the egg cells during fertilization..."

"Fucking," Tom said with a smile and a nod.

Stu read out loud. "To form a totipotent zygote for developing a new organism..."

Tom said with a smile and a nod, "Baby."

Stu read. "Sperm life can last for three days inside a female."

Tom nodded. "No prob. We use a set of fresh sperm from the gawd damn sperm bank."

Jace turned with a wink and a nod to see the nose profile on Tom. "How about you, Tom? Since, you're here inside my lab today, now."

Frank grinned with a nod.

Stu stared at the paper.

Tom turned with a sour frown to see Jace. "Not mine, asshole. Jane'll shit her eggs and beat me with them. Use a frozen bank from a qualified descent man. Gawd, we got money."

Stu read the paper. "The sperm lasts for days unless exposed to air or mixed with another liquid."

"Acid. It dies. It burns. It disintegrates." Frank said with a smile and a nod.

Tom nodded. "Okay. Buy an entire sperm floor of the bank with our billions."

"Tom?" Frank frowned to Sawyer.

Tom lifted his palms with a grin. "Okay. Okay, I'm wrong. I'm not a medical smartass physician. What now? This ain't helping with our delicate dangerous dilemma, ya damn ding dongs."

"Say that really fast three times, Thomas." Frank chuckled.

"Frank's an asshole. Frank's an asshole. Frank's an asshole." Tom laughed with Stu and Jace. "Did I break the sound barrier, Mangrove?" he laughed again with Stu and Jace.

Frank frowned to Sawyer.

"Hold on. This is interesting." Stu pinged the paper. "Danish males have the best and biggest reputations of holding the highest quality of sperm."

"Danish." Frank said with a puzzled brow.

"Sweden...Dutch." Tom nodded.

"Not Dutch. That's the language, stupid." Frank frowned.

"Norway. Sweden. Denmark." Jace said with a smile and a nod.

"What other foreign counties speak the Danish language, Stu?" Frank asked.

Stu tapped on the keyboard as the printer sounded with a beep. He pulled out a second piece of paper from the printer, reading out loud. "The completed list of foreign countries that use Dutch as a language start with Sweden. Norway. Denmark. Iceland. Greenland. Faroe Islands. Parts of Germany..."

Jace turned with a nod and a smile to see the nose profile on Tom "Tom, you're German?"

"No." Tom shook his bangs, saying softly.

Jace pointed to Tom's body parts. "You have blonde hair, blue eyes, and are paler than a polar bear on a summer's day. Your ancestry is German. Your father told me the last time I spoke with him."

"No, you are wrong, Jace." Tom said with a sneer to Jace, shaking his bangs.

"Tom is a...." Frank said with a grin and a nod.

"What, Frank?" Jace turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Frank.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank." Tom turned with a growl to see Frank.

Frank back stepped with a smile and a nod from Tom's sour breath. "A couple of years ago, Thomas decided to research our individual cultural backgrounds just to be funny. He did not get far, but older and smarter brother Stuart was much more success and richly rewarded," laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank." Tom stomped with a growl to Frank.

"Tom," Stu growled a verbal warning for not harming Frank and the truth.

Frank back stepped, raising his hands with a chuckle and a grin. "Well, Stu looked up high and then down low and lower and lowest..." laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, Frank!" Tom stomped with a louder growl to Frank.

Jace moved and blocked the advancement on Tom, turning with a puzzle brow to see Frank.

Frank dropped his arms, saying with a nod and a grin to Jace. "He discovered that the Sawyer family had skeletons inside the family closet, so to speak."

"Skeletons!?" Jace said with a puzzled brow.

Frank pointed to the window with a grin and a nod. "The old family name before the Sawyers crossed the Atlantic Ocean was von Sore."

"German..." Jace nodded at Tom.

"Not just German, a baron of royalty." Frank said with a nod and a grin to Jace.

"Impressive, Thomas." Jace turned with a nod and a smile to Tom.

Stu read the paper, saying. "Actually, I found it in the New England Historic Genealogical Society which was founded in the year 1845, the oldest and largest gene pool of people in the world." He stood and moved behind Tom for preventing a murder or two.

"Very interesting, Stu." Jace smiled to Tom.

"Von Sore was a royal baron, who had baby barons, year after year in the Fatherland. One of the barons named Erich von Sore donated his monies, his supplies, and his resources to Hitler." Frank smirked to Tom.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, looking down and viewing his new leathers.

"Adolph Hitler!?" Jace dropped his mouth at Tom.

"The same one." Frank nodded.

"Shit. Tom's a real Nazi asshole and not an American one." Jace chuckled with Stu and Frank.

"Very funny, asshole." Tom jabbed a manicured finger with a deadly growl to Frank. "You're dead, Mangrove."

"Spoken like a true Nazi, von Sore, Junior." Stu slapped the collar bone of growling Tom, shoving away from Frank.

Tom moved and scooted to the sofa sitting on the edge, viewing the tiles.

Jace turned with a sour frown and a nod to see the hair roots on Tom. "Get over it, Tom. Americans are a melting pot of cultures, people, and countries that escaped from assholes like Hitler, back then. Back here, now, our USA military might and brave soldiers kill dictators like that. That's why we're the great USA," turning with a nod and a grin to see Frank and Stu.

"Right on, Jace." Frank said with a nod and a grin.

"Amen to that. Home of brave and land of the free, USA. USA. USA." Stu fist-bumped with Frank as they grinned with their American pride as Americans.

"Jace's the proper historian. He told it right." Frank turned and smiled to Jace.

"Damn straight and proud of it, too." Jace smiled, using the infamous Quartet motto.

"Suck it up, Sawyer." Stu swung around, sitting at the computer, typing.

Jace clapped, saying with a nod and a smile. "Back to the sperm. After Stu's brilliant research, we need Danish men. Can the sperm bank provide that data legally?" He viewed Tom.

"Tom?" Frank said.

Tom stared down at the dirty tile. "Doubt it." He exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing his new leathers.

"Why not, Tom?" Frank frowned at Tom's hair roots.

"Ya know. OSHA, CDC, FBI, CPA, NAZI..." Tom said.

"Does he know what he's talking about?" Jace shook his skull at Tom.

"Yes. But his mouth and brain aren't connected." Frank grinned at Tom's hair roots.

Stu stared at the computer screen for more new information. "I don't see how we can acquire that information legally. We can use illegal force..."

"If I cannot find a Dane and I'll use Tom." Jace turned with a wink and a grin to Frank.

"Hell no. Keep looking?" Tom viewed the tiles without any body movement.

Jace turned with a sour frown to see the rear baldness of Stu. "I'm desperate, Tom. Just volunteer. Make him volunteer, Stu?"

"Austin!?" Stu snapped his fingers, typing on the computer, keyboard.

"Austin, what?" Frank moved and stood over the right collar bone of Stu.

Stu typed with a nod and a smile. "The New England Genealogy mentioned that Austin's people were from the country of Denmark."

"No, shit. You're wrong." Tom stood with a grin and a giggle, moving and standing over the left collar bone of Stu.

"You never mentioned that before, Stu?" Frank stared at the computer screen.

"After Tom's temper tantrum, I closed the genealogy study." Stu typed.

Frank watched the lines and figures appear and disappear on the computer screen. "You're fast."

"Watch this." Stu pressed the button, activating the printer and pulled out the paper, reading out loud. "The proper surname Berrington is British. The first record of a live and breathing Berrington lived in Kent, United Kingdom in the year 1345 AD. He was a butcher in the providence of West Wickham England."

"Austin's blood-family is British peasants, Stu." Frank frowned at the paper over Stu's collar bone.

Stu said with a nod and a smile, "Great, great, great, great grandpa Berrington was an English peasant along with his first wife Ann Kemp, who died without children. So Berrington remarried Elsa Anderson from the country of Denmark."

"Show me." Frank dropped his mouth, verifying the information. "Damn. You're right. Good eyes, Stu."

"Great memory recall, Stu," Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"So you got your Dane, Jace?" Stu laughed, handing the paper to Jace.

Jace reviewed the information for his medical problem, wearing a smile.

"Uh?" Frank chuckled.

"Uh...what?" Jace read the report.

"Uh...what, what?" Stu stood and turned with a chuckle to Frank.

"Are you going to tell him, Tom?" Frank turned with a chuckle to Tom.

Tom parted his lips, waving his hands and his bangs. "Hell no. I'm the sleazy lawyer. Let one the smart ass medical doctors tell Austin that the medical problem has been solved and he's the solution," he jabbed a manicured fingernail to Frank and Jace.

"I vote Stu. He found the internet article." Frank pointed to Stu with a laugh and nod.

"No way." Stu read a second piece of paper with a laugh. "Here's a brilliant piece from great grandpa Berrington's personal diary. This is classical. Listen to this, guys."

"We don't need any more data. Get a sperm bank, Jace?" Tom frowned to Jace, shaking his hands.

Stu read out loud with a grin. "Berrington quoted in his daily diary. His wife was so beautiful that his penis had swollen to one and three quarter inches in diameter," laughed with the others.

"Ya fucking lying, Gage?" Tom laughed.

"It's right here on the paper." Stu laughed, rattling the paper.

Jace laughed. "Good gawd, the man was a gorilla."

Frank said with a chuckle and a nod. "Walruses have the biggest penises on Earth."

"...and great, great, great, great, great grandpa Berrington." Tom laughed and hoots, wiping his tears of joy.

"Does size matter, Jace?" Stu chuckled.

"No." Jace laughed.

"Does your penis size grow in diameter and length like your DNA genes during the centuries?" Stu laughed.

"Why do you ask, Stu?" Jace grinned.

"Is Austin's dick two inches in diameter, now?" Tom laughed and pants, wiping his tears of joy.

"Why don't you ask him, Tom?" Stu laughed.

"I want to breathe this afternoon, asshole." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his bangs.

"Does that make the sperm a higher quality, Jace?" Frank said with a chuckle and a nod.

"I cannot answer that question." Jace shook his skull with a grin.

"Hell, yes." Tom said with a laugh and a nod.

"Hell, no." Frank shook his skull with a chuckle.

"I guess that you gotta test it. Huh, Jace?" Stu laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Test it!! I do need to test it. Call him, Frank?" Jace laughed, pointing to Mangrove.

"O no." Frank raised his palms, laughing.

"Call him, Stu?" Jace laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Not I." Stu laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Tom!?" Jace laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"You call and explain the situation. You're Dr. Frankenstein, remember?" Tom laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"I need to test the thing. I really do, Frank." Jace laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Test, Austin!?" Stu laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Testing, Austin," Frank laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Test the two inches of dick diameter also, too?" Tom laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Why, Tom!?" Jace laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

"Wanna know. Test your theory, Stu?" Tom laughed, wiping his tears of joy.

The door opened.

Austin entered and stood in the middle of the room, wearing a confused brow.

Tom was resting on the floor, clutching his stomach, laughing hysterically.

Frank moved ahead and spun around, sitting down at the sofa, grinning at Austin.

Stu stood, crossing his arm with a smirk.

Jace stood at the lab counter, wearing a grin and a chuckle.

"Hi, Austin," Frank grinned.

"Tell him!" Tom rolled back and forth on the floor, laughing with amusement.

"What's happening?" Austin narrowed his eyelids at Tom.

"Sperm," Tom laughed, rolling on the floor.

"Whose?" Austin sneered, staring at Sawyer.

"Penis," Tom laughed, rolling on the floor.

"Whose?" Austin sneered, moving closer to Tom.

"Size," Tom laughed, rolling on the floor.

"Whose?" Austin sneered and viewed Frank. Frank grinned. Jace smiled. Stu smirked. Berrington turned and narrowed his eyelids at Tom.

Tom rested on his back spine, exhaling and inhaling with puff of fresh air, pointing to Austin. "Yours."

Austin swung around as Gage blocked Austin and whispered a set of secret words. Austin grunted and whipped around Stu to the food table, grabbing the water pitcher and spun around, walking and flipping the pitcher of drinking water with a set of hard cold ice cubes, flooding Tom's skull, neck, hair, and shoulders.

Tom yelped, cuddling his wet body. "Shit, asshole. That's cold."

"Don't talk about my penis ever, Tom." Austin sneered, tossing the glass pitcher at the wall and not Tom, hearing it break with a ting.

"You're lucky, boy. He couldn't find his Ghost." Stu raised Austin's Ghost, after stealing from the jacket pocket of Austin with a grin and a nod.

Frank, Stu, and Jace laughed their asses off.
Thursday July 1st

8:55 a.m.

City of Miami

Miami Dade Courthouse building

Court trial day three

Warm temperatures with isolated rain showers

The x-ray machine sounded with a beep.

He lifted his new gray alligator briefcase from the conveyor belt, moving and growling to the eardrum on the other male. "Say it to me again. Repeat it, a..."

Jace leaned over and whispered to Tom's eardrum. "I understood the medical statement, Thomas. I'm a licensed physician." He walked with Tom to the courtroom today.

"Repeat it, asshole. I want you to say that statement to me for accuracy." Tom growled and gritted his teeth, sliding into the footpath of Jace.

He shoved Tom away from his designer leathers. "Go away, Thomas. I'm not an idiot like you." Jace whispered with grin, moving through the guarded archway with four posted court house guards. Jace was required to provide his medical testimony on the eye witness stand today as ordered by Seth in regard to the secret medical research work on both Mouse's dead body and Katt's live body which was conducted by Jace inside the secret Quartet laboratory in Miami Springs.

However, Tom was plotting a very different reason for subpoenaing their family friend and their personal physician of the infamous Quartet assholes.

Jace turned and sat in an empty chair beside Frank. Stu sat beside Frank.

Frank, Stu, and Austin had used the rear entrance of the courthouse and escorted Katt into her containment cell for both protection and security.

Tom rushed to Seth, stopping and rapping his fist on the table surface, and held his briefcase in the other fist, saying with a sour frown and a sour tone to the hair roots on Hamilton. "You subpoenaed her gawd damn personal medical physician. What kind of fucking game plays here, Hamilton?"

Seth looked up with a slow smile and a nod to Tom, saying in his southern accent. "I do believe that I am proving her guilt like a good prosecution attorney shows. By law, I can subpoena any American citizen to testify against a cold-blooded serial killing mass murderer of 8,063 souls, sir."

The bailiff entered from a side door, standing and saying in the middle of the court square. "Please stand."

Tom back stepped from Seth, swinging and moving to his first chair post as the captain of defense team, sliding and sitting beside Austin.

Cutter entered and moved, sitting at his bench chair, and slammed the gravel, saying with a stern face and a nod to Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, please call your next witness."

Seth slowly stood, smoothly pressing down with a set of dry hands on his new designer business suit, turning and narrowing his eyelids at an empty court galley, and viewed Tom.

Tom played with his pencil, viewing the witness stand.

Seth swung around to Cutter, saying with a smile and a nod. "I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, Junior have the great pleasure and the distinguished honor to please call as my next expert eye witness, the world renowned medical researcher and private practice physician Dr. Jace Justin Jackson, Junior. Dr. Jackson is currently in private clinical practice and a member of the Board of Directors for the Charity Healthcare System of Miami, Florida."

Jace stood, moving and approaching the bailiff in the middle of the court square, and stopped, raising his hand, promising to tell the truth with a nod and a smile. He spun around, moving and sitting in the eye witness box, seeing Seth advance.

Seth was famous for his legal and slightly illegal antics inside and outside the courtroom as the US district attorney for South Carolina. However, these ancient legal exhibitions did not bring about a numerous supply of the greatly desired George Washington photographs on green money bills.

Seth envied the Quartet with their toys, their guns, their parties, and their beautiful babes that surrounded them day and night, but he soon would be crashing their private country club in Miami when the most famous murderess trial of two centuries ended in a few more days with a guilty conviction and a death sentence inside a Tallahassee gas chamber.

Seth slowly strutted to Jace, wearing a smile, looking back to see Tom. Tom stared at Jace and twirled his number two pencil, showing his nervous defeat with Jace's upcoming honest medical testimony of his medical patient Katt. Seth turned with a smile to see Jace, and stopped at the witness stand, looking to see the jury and back to see Jace, and cleared his throat for drama, saying with a nod and a smile. "Dr. Jackson, please, tell the jury in this enclosed and private court room trial your professional medical opinion in regard to the clinical condition of the young woman named Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, who is known simply as the angel of death also?"

Jace did not smile or nod but yelled in a loud clear baritone timber. "Kattleen is a healthy virgin."

Seth dropped his mouth at Jace. "What!?"

Jace did not smile or nod but yelled in a loud clear baritone timber for a second time. "Kattleen is a healthy virgin."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, jabbing a manicured finger to Jace, saying with a sour frown and a nod. "You are very much mistaken, Dr. Jackson. The personal testimony yesterday..."

Jace did not smile or nod but yelled in a loud clear baritone for a third time. "Kattleen is a healthy virgin."

Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Jace. This inaccurate verbal testimony would damage, destroy, and devastate Seth, Seth's legal case, and Seth's prosecution as Jackson honestly lied. So Seth will prosecute with perjury, nailing Jace inside a jail cell with Kattrell, too. He exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning with a sour frown to see Tom.

Tom smiled and wiggled his pencil to Seth like a hello there greeting, southern style.

Seth swiftly recalled Mrs. Hartman's verbal statement, yesterday, since she had been recorded on both audio and video tape, stating that Katt had birthed an illegitimate baby. However, FBI agent Phil had not found a hair root or a toe print of an alleged biological babe. Seth could feel the vile puke inside his stomach lining, bubbling and boiling up to invade his tight esophagus.

He exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning with a stern face to see Jace, clearing his throat, saying with a nod and a stern tone. "Perjury is a punishable crime in the state of Florida, sir. What is the clinical medical condition of Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, Dr. Jackson?"

Jace leaned forward to Seth without a smile or a nod, saying in a clear baritone for the fourth time. "Kattleen is a virgin. Do you want me to explain what a virgin is to you, Mr. Hamilton?"

Sherman smirked as Austin grinned. Frank and Stu smiled and slapped each other's kneecaps, elbows, and biceps, making thudding noises behind Tom's skull.

Tom grinned at the ass of Seth in his new designer suit.

"No," Seth softly said, looking down to the floor.

"Any questions for Dr. Jackson, Mr. Sawyer?" Cutter turned with a stern face to see Tom.

"No sir, Your Honor." Tom yelled in his natural tenor with a smirk.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Hartman had seen her unfaithful husband fucking another babe, who was really Mouse girl, where they all lived happily in the mental fuckingly ass-kicking sick town of Boyer, Florida. Tom was happy that Katt lived here in nice and beautiful Miami.

Sawyer turned and smiled to Katt.

Katt smiled back at Tom, sitting quietly inside her chair in the glass box, watching the court room action under his verbal instructions.

Tom turned and scanned the face of jury members, who was pondering all the legal statements as fact or fiction. Sawyer enjoyed, finding the lies among the truths of justice as Jane kept reminding him every night at dinner time, particularly this blood thirsty murderess legal case.

Cutter turned and smiled with a nod to see Jace. "You may step down, Dr. Jackson. Thank you for your brief testimony in today's trial." He turned and viewed with a stern face to see Seth. "Mr. Hamilton, please call your next witness."

Seth slowly turned with a stern face and moved back to his chair, sitting his ass in the first chair of the prosecution table, and stared down at the naked table surface, whispering. "Dr. Meitner."

Dr. Meitner stood and moved with a happy smile to the court square, standing and raising his hand to tell the truth with the bailiff. He turned and occupied the witness stand, leaning forward over the railing in the witness box, holding a plastic liver in his hands, and stared and smiled at the hair roots on Seth.

Seth stared with a sad brow at the naked table surface.

Cutter stared at the hair roots on Seth too, and turned to see Meitner, clearing his throat, saying with a smile and a nod. "Dr. Meitner, could you please explain the toy inside your hands?"

Seth occupied his seat in both self-pity and self-doubt as Sherman recalled too serving as a criminal lawyer in his youth.

The clients changed, but the tactics did not.

Meitner shifted the toy up and down, saying with a nod and a smile to the full court gallery of guards and the hair roots on Seth. "To understand the functions of the liver, you must understand the flow of the blood which starts where the splenic..."

Seth felt both defeated and deflated. Kattleen was a virgin, a non-criminal medical fact.

Keith Newman, one of the dimwit piss ant attorneys had been promoted from the ranks of the Miami County defense attorney sewer pool as the second command for Seth to lead the Miami prosecution team against the murderess trial of two centuries. However, Newman had shown nothing but total incompetence, and finally screwing up the murderess case.

Kattleen Kattrell was a virgin per her personal physician as he had told on the eye witness stand to the eardrums and eyeballs of the jury, and the jury was going to discuss and conclude that all the prior verbal testimonies were hog shit on South Carolina tobacco farm.

Seth had come to the same conclusion, too.

However, Seth was a smart and sleazy lawyer too, slamming his back spine into the hard chair, tapping his fingers into a triangle over his new and pressed dress shirt, smirking with his personal payback directly at Sawyer. He looked up with a smirk to see Meitner, who was playing with the plastic liver toy between his hands.

".... unconjugated hyper-bilirubinaemia in neonates leads to kernicterus, a heavy accumulation of bilirubin in certain regions of the baby's body. Neonates are at risk, because they lack the intestinal bacteria to breakdown the bilirubin into feces." Meitner said with a nod and a grin to the guards in the rear row of the court gallery and Seth.

Cutter turned with a puzzled brow to see the nose profile on Meitner. "I am sorry. A baby's what?"

"Shit." Meitner said with a chuckle and a smile, shifting the toy up and down for fun.

Soft chuckles invaded the room.

1:47 p.m.

City of Miami Springs (15 miles northwest of courthouse)

The Quartet secret laboratory

Hot temperatures with isolated rain showers

"Hurry up, Austin. We got an appointment with Katt." Tom beat his fist onto the bathroom door, saying with a grin and a giggle.

"Go away, asshole." Austin said through the closed bathroom door.

"Let him alone, Tom." Stu read the daily newspaper on the sofa.

"We don't have all day." Tom said with a chuckle and a nod, beating on the door again. "Finish, Old Man. If you can..."

"No talk. No stress." Stu read the paper.

"No pain. No gain." Tom smiled, beating on the door again.

"Could you produce under this delicate situation?" Stu read the paper.

"Of course, plenty." Tom turned with a grin and a giggle to see the baldness of Stu.

"I think that we should test Tom's sperm, also." Jace smiled at the rear hair roots on Frank, sitting on the stool at the work station, waiting on Austin to finish too.

"Bullshit. Anyways, I'm not Danish." Tom turned with a sour frown to see Jace, beating on the closed door again.

"You're a Nazi. Katt might produce another Adolph Hitler." Stu read the paper with a chuckle.

"Shut up, asshole." Tom viewed and beat the closed door again with a sour frown.

"Move away from the door, Tom. Give the man some privacy." Stu looked up to Tom's ass and saw Tom's fist beat on the door again.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, swinging around and moved to the window, turning with a grin and a giggle to see the baldness of Stu. "Stu, ran down to the Miami River, get a prostitute for Austin. He needs a hand job." Austin grunted behind the door as Tom pulled several hundred dollar bills from his wallet, waving them at Stu, saying with a giggle and a grin. "Here's five hundred dollars. Get two girls for a hand job and a light fuck..."

"Sit down, Tom." Stu read the paper.

Tom moved and tossed the bills on the low table, back pedaling with a grin and a giggle, and swung around, beating on the bathroom door with his fist again.

Frank placed the medical folders on top of the low table and straightened the papers into a perfect stack, slowly standing, straightening his business jacket, and moved to the bathroom door, growling. "Move, Tom." Tom side stepped from the door, staring at the nose profile on Frank. Mangrove thumbed over his collar bone to the sofa. "Over there, asswipe. Get away from the damn door." Frank shoved Tom from the wall with a sneer.

"Yeah, tell him, Frank?" Tom jabbed a manicured finger at Frank with a giggle and a grin, back stepping a few feet from Frank, crossing his arms, and watched Frank's performance with Stu and Jace.

Frank stood in front of the door and beat with his fist. "Austin."

"Go away." Austin said behind the bathroom door.

Frank grinned. "This is Frank. Pick up the telephone receiver. I would like to talk with you." The sentinel lab was prepared for any type of emergency with a set of multiple telephones and a drop down wall to contain a deadly germ contamination field in case of an emergency. Frank lifted the telephone receiver and glanced back to see Tom.

Tom slowly moved to Frank.

Frank covered the telephone receiver's mouthpiece and yelled at Tom. "Back off, asswipe. This is a private conversation."

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, back stepping from Frank's ass and plopped his ass down on the sofa with Stu, saying with a sour tone to Frank's ass. "What's his shit?"

"I do not know." Stu grinned, watching Frank.

"Speculate, asshole." Tom growled, watching Frank.

"I do not know, Tom." Stu grinned, watching Frank.

"Dumbest of the Band of Brothers, huh, Stu?" Tom laughed and viewed Frank's ass.

"I thought that was your earned title three years running, Thomas." Stu laughed and viewed Frank's ass too.

"Shut up, asshole," Tom frowned and viewed Frank's ass.

Frank glanced behind his collar bone to see Tom and Stu, ensuring his brothers were out of hearing range, slumping forward his body to the wall, and cupped the telephone receiver with his hand to prevent ease dropping.

And Frank whispered to Austin on the telephone.

Tom leaned forward, straining with his two eardrums only hearing Stu's pant.

Stu was curious too.

Jace leaned forward from his stool with a grin and a view of Frank's ass too.

Tom wished for eardrum implants like a set of bionic ears to hear the whispered word exchange between Frank and Austin on wall telephone landline. Frank always behaved both secretive and devious among the Quartet. Tom gasped, remembering the comment of Jace from the other night at Austin's house

He's a devious son of a bitch.

That verbal comment referenced Frank. Yeah, Franklin was the true bastard of the Band of Brothers and not Austin.

Frank talked and Austin listened. Frank stood and replaced the telephone receiver back on the hook, straightening his suit jacket, swinging with a stern face to see Stu and Tom, moved and sat in his assigned seat, lifting and retrieving the stack of medical files.

Frank looked down and read in silence.

"Well?" Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning with a sour frown to see Frank's nose profile as Frank sat at the arm rest on the same sofa.

"Well, what?" Frank stared at the files.

"Tell us, asshole? What did ya say to Austin?" Tom stood and stared down at Frank's hair roots, tossing his hands and his bangs.

"Haven't you heard of the legal concept, physician and patient privilege? You should, since you're a lawyer, Tom." Frank read the medical folders with a stern face.

Tom jabbed a manicured fingernail at Mangrove, shaking his bangs. "Well, shit, Frank. You ain't his doctor. Jace is. So tell us the tale!"

"No!" Frank viewed the medical files.

"No? Fuck that, asshole!" Tom tosses his arms in the and swung around, marching ahead toward the bathroom door with a sour frown, reaching out for the door with a smile.

"Stu," Frank said, viewing the medical files.

Stu stood and dashed to Tom's ass, wrapping his arms around his baby brother, cuddling him in the middle of the room and grunted to Tom's eardrum. "Give the man some breathing room, Tom..."

Loud sound of grunts and soft moans came from the bathroom door.

Stu released Tom as both stared at the bathroom door with a chuckle and a smile. Frank looked up with a smirk. Jace stood, donning his sterile work gloves, wearing a smirk.

The bathroom door slammed open.

Austin appeared in the archway, smiling and holding a laboratory glass beaker.

Tom shuffled to the laboratory glass beaker, narrowing his eyelids, parting his lips. "Damn. The beaker is full."

"Tough guy," Stu said with a nod and a chuckle.

Frank stood and moved to the huddle, wearing a smirk.

"What the fuck? What did you say to him, Frank?" Tom turned with a puzzled brow to see Frank, parting his lips.

Austin smiled, presenting a full beaker to Jace, "Enough!?"

Jace grabbed the beaker with a smile and a nod. "Hell yeah. I can populate the entire world with this big beaker of badass Berrington sperm." Jace chuckled, carefully swinging to his work station to process the sperm for Katt.

"Let's not do that." Austin said with a sour frown to Jace's ass.

Tom laughed and viewed Frank. "What secret did ya tell him to get Austin to jack off, Frank?"

Frank slapped the collar bone of Austin, saying with a wink and a nod. "Forget it, Tom. Austin did his duty. Jace, get working on the lab tests and see if your theory works."

Jace stood at his work station, slipping on his PPE equipment, staring the beaker of sperm.

Tom swung around and moved to the door, shaking his bangs and his hands. "Didn't understand. Tried every dirty joke in the book. Didn't work. Told ya every nasty fucking fantasy I saw from the erotic sexy television channel. Didn't work, either. Hell. Told ya some of my own fucking fantasies with my wife. Still, ya didn't come. What's wrong with you, man?" Tom spun around to Austin, walking backwards. Frank grinned. Stu laughed. Austin stared at Tom. Tom jabbed a manicured fingernail to Frank with a puzzled brow. "Why did Frank's message work and not mine? Don't understood it, man?"

The door opened.

Stu grabbed and spun Tom to the door, shoving an ass through the archway, saying with a grin and a nod. "The mysteries of life, some things cannot be explained, Thomas.

Austin and Frank moved and left the laboratory, walking together down the clean and empty corridor to the entrance door of the building.

The door slammed shut.

"Right, Big Man." Frank said with a nod, following behind paired Stu and Tom, who moved together down an empty hallway to a set of two limos which are illegally parked on the street curb.

Tom shook his bangs and his hands, viewing the floor and the ceiling. "Don't make any gawd damn sense? Got the dirtiest mind in Miami..."

"More like the entire state of Florida." Frank chuckled.

"The entire fucking US of A." Stu chuckled.

Tom looked and strolled to the spotless glass doors without any QA guards but a great electronic security inside the building, whispering for his eardrums only. "Come... unless...no.... Maybe...can't be... Of course....makes sense..." He stopped and spun around to Austin, parking his fists on his new belt, saying with a grin and a giggle. "You're gay." He laughed.

Stu stopped and spun around with a laugh to see Austin.

Austin shook his skull, staring at Tom.

Frank snorted and stared at Tom. "We have an appointment at the prison. Get moving, Thomas." Frank moved and shoved Tom backwards, pointing to the glass doors, turning with a smile and a wink to see the nose profile on Austin.

Stu chuckled, spinning around and moving to the doors too.

Tom swung around, moving to the doors as Austin stared at Tom's ass. Sawyer raised and slapped his hands down to his new trousers, saying with a nod and a giggle, narrowing his eyelids at the bright sunlight from the glass doors in the dark hallway. "Explains it. Explains everything. Why ya ain't married? Holy shit. Uncle Bartholomew's going to be pissed. Going to kill ya, man or woman, in this case. Shoot ya with his .45 right between the eyes, man or woman, in this case. Poor Aunt Barbara, she really wanted a little tiny Austin putt-putting around her big house in West Palm Beach. No grandchildren. She's too old for another child. How long have ya known, man or woman?

"You could've told. We're brothers. Understand your dilemma, too. Liz? She knows, right? She's a great cover-up, man or woman, in this case. Is Lizard going to sue ya, now? We pissed her off good at your house. Don't worry. I'll get that bitch for you. She won't take all your billions. Wait until the newspaper hears about this. You'll be more famous than Katt." He spun around, walking backwards, pointing with a grin and a giggle to Austin. "Your handsome mug on the front colored page of the famous National Quizzer. Quizzing minds went to know, ya know..."

"Keep going to the limos, Tom." Frank shoved Tom on the chest back to the door.

Tom spun around, walking to the door, saying with a nod and a giggle. "Frank knows. Ya told him, huh, man? Stu, did ya know?" he turned and viewed the nose profile Stu. Stu grinned and grunted, walking to the door. Tom chuckled with a nod, looking up the doors. "In the dark like me, the wife's the last to know, as the old saying goes."

Frank sniggered. Stu snorted and Austin stared with his narrowed eyelids at Tom's rear skull.

Tom said with a nod and a grin. "Guess, we'll change our name from the Band of Brothers to... to the Band of Brothers and Sister...or the Band of Brothers and one Sister." He laughed. "Fuck. Don't wanna be associated with a fag, man or woman, in this case. I'm king fucker of my castle. Jane's my queen whore. Yeah, that's right. I ain't no fag. I'm straight, fucking straight." He turned with a wink and a nod to see the nose profile on Gage. "Stu's straight, also. Aren't you Big Man?" Stu snorted. Frank grinned.

Austin stared with narrowed eyelids at Tom.

"See, Stu's straight. Frank, ya straight? I often wondered about you, Franklin. You and Austin are sharing secrets in the dark behind closed bathroom doors. Could be? You're the same as Austin as they said two peas in a pod. And we'll change our name to...to the Band of two Brothers and two Sisters." Tom laughed, opening the door, leading the Quartet to the city street sidewalk.

Stu snorted, catching the door, following behind Tom.

Frank frowned, holding the door for Austin.

Austin moved through the archway, narrowing his eyelids at the ass on Tom.

Tom moved to the first limousine, saying with a nod and a smile. "Good name, huh, Stu? I like it too. Just need confirmation. And we can officially change the name of the Quartet. I'll call Misty. She'll tell me the truth about ya, Ferdinand. You're a fucking fag along with Austin. Gawd, who knew all this deep dark shit underneath the toilet seat?" he smiled, pulling his mobile telephone from his new jacket, holding his finger pad over the screen.

Frank moved and jerked the mobile telephone from the hands on Tom. Austin reached and stole Tom's Ghost from his new jacket pocket.

Tom spun around with a sneer to see his Ghost that was aimed between his baby blue eyeballs, lifting his arms in a self-defense stance for his fucking life from pissed off Austin.

Stu whipped out his Ghost, aiming at the nose profile on Austin, saying with a growl. "Don't man. Tom's an asshole."

Frank stood beside Austin without his weapon drawn, holding Tom's mobile telephone.

Austin aimed the Ghost at Tom's forehead, sneering. "I do not want to hear another word about homosexuals. Or I will blow your fucking head off, Tom."

Tom slammed his finger to his lips, showing a zipping motion, locking his lips for the universal no talking sign.

Stu reached and grabbed Tom's Ghost from Austin, shifting both the guns to his left hand, leaning and stealing Austin's Ghost from the jacket pocket. Stu hid Austin's Ghost in his breast pocket, saying with authority. "Frank."

Frank pulled out and handed over his Ghost from his jacket pocket and tossed Tom's mobile telephone on the concrete walkway. The mobile phone broke into two separate pieces, booming in the air waves.

"Tom with me." Stu side stepped away from Austin and Frank to his limo, still aiming Tom's Ghost at Austin's forehead. Stu was very well familiar with Austin's swift temper and quick reaction time as Old Man still desired to kill his baby brother.

Stu protected the Band of Brothers, defending every Quartet's honor, whether right or wrong, the only purpose of the bonded blood pact, since the year 1838.

Frank and Austin turned and moved to Austin's limousine, entering.

Tom swung around and followed Stu, who was still walking backwards and aiming the Ghost at the moving limousine. Tom said with a sour frown "Sen..."

"Get in, boy." Stu shoved Tom into the open door, storing Tom's Ghost in his jacket pocket, sliding over the same bench, slapping the button.

The limousine doors closed.

Tom scooted into the backward bench, sitting away from Gage. "Sh..."

The limousine moved down the roadway to the prison.

"Tom, shut up." Gage settled into the bench, saying with a sour frown to Sawyer. "Austin's about as gay as I am. Don't you know when to quit with that mouth of yours?" He exhaled with a huff of frustration.

Tom jabbed a manicured finger at Gage. "Hey, I..."

Gage grabbed and tugged on Tom's manicured finger as Tom yelped and pulled it back, cuddling it into his chest. Stu frowned. "Don't go ape shit, now. And quit egging on Austin, too. And think about getting Katt out of her cell for the medical operation? That's your top priority, bro."

Tom rubbed his injured finger, looking up with a sad pout to see Stu. "My! Me! There ain't no letter 'I' in team, Stuart. I've been racking my brain cells doing all the work. I make all the decisions. Wait, back up. I think of every solution to every problem that we have encountered, man."

"You're the extreme-mental-above-genius-Einstein lawyer. That's your fucking job, Tom. We pay you for that." Stu nodded.

Tom jabbed his other manicured finger at Gage as Stu tried to catch it. "Not finished, here, I thunk the solutions. I dunk the work. I carry this gawddamn team with the 'I'." He tossed his uninjured hand to the ceiling and away from Stu.

"You do. So figure out how to get Katt out of the gawddamn cell for that vital lifesaving medical operation performed by Jace?" Stu exhaled with a huff of annoyance, looking down and viewing his mobile telephone with new texts.

Tom looked down with a sad pout, cuddling his injured finger. "Fucking shitting asshole, ya should've ridden with Austin and Frank."
Friday July 2nd

9:30 a.m.

Downtown Miami on Brickell Avenue

Apartment of Ned Nessle private bedroom setting

Cool temperatures with rain showers

Ned did it.

He got married at the court house early this morning before the big Fourth of July holiday. His current wife Jetta had been half way stoned with cocaine and half-drunk with wine in a white short dress and signed the marriage license with a silly grin and a cute giggle.

And then they came home and fucked as husband and wife.

Ned deserved the short break. He had been working every day since June sixth with the whore harem, studying the money pickup schedule, tailing the bank truck, noting the times, the dates, the behaviors and habits of the security personnel.

And his little female whore harem was paying off big time.

Ned had gotten a flock of pretty young whore girls an upfront job as a dense and dumb headed receptionist inside each targeted bank. They dressed sexy and smelled good with a giggle and a smile.

They also become his batch of spies for identifying which bank executives would cheat on his wife, would be easy to blackmail, and would steal all the bank money. The girls provided free sex, drugs, alcohol, and fun any day of the week, after working hours, during working hours, before working hours, and on the weekends.

Thus, these targeted executive became trapped between the ugly wife and the great job. Divorce was a death sentence for a banker.

Bankers handled money. And people trusted their doctor, their dentist, and their banker. So the banker stayed married to his boring fat wife with his three screaming kids while attending the numerous social events around the city as the young single males had all the fun.

Ned had flooded the labor pool at each bank with all his young pretty girls, who couldn't type or read or add but giggled and talked sexy. The girls worked the men and then he worked the men by blackmail.

Some of the bank executives bulked. The other ones quietly surrendered. However, all of the males understood and obeyed.

Ned also video recorded each dirty nasty sex act with the girls, the drugs, the booze, the sex show, and the naked orgies, showing the recording, trapping the bank executive, and claiming all the money for the next bank heist.

The first bank heist occurred on June 28th on Monday night with success. By the end of the week, Ned and Fabian had robbed three banks and collected more than fifteen million dollars.

Ned met Jetta, an eighteen-year-old college freshman on the first night of the Consulting Firm's grand opening party at his apartment while entertaining the paid whores and the whore's victims. He fucked her as the last girl of the evening.

She turned him on all the time with her unbelievable sex stories.

Jett told Ned while drunk and stoned that she had fucked her biological brother. Some girls moaned during sex. Some girls talked during sex.

Jett created these fantastic fairy tales of how she learned sex using her brother as her sex partner.

Ned listened intently to her story every night in their shared bed.

The brother and sister weren't allowed to date until eighteen years old as commanded by their biological parents.

At the age of thirteen years old, Jett received the change in her mind and got curious with her body.

Her mother worked at night. Her father worked early in the day starting at five a.m.

So the two blood-related siblings were home alone a lot and helped with each other with supper meals, body baths, and school homework assignments.

The older brother cared for his little sister giving her body baths before the bedtime hour to calm her worries, since their mother wasn't there and their father was too tired from his day's work, resting and sleeping inside his private bedroom.

Their father was asleep after eating the dinner meal and drinking a few bottles of beers.

The bathing ritual lasted until Jett was twelve years old while she had learned to bath herself. The brother watched her inside the bath tub and helped dried off her nakedness with a set of new breasts.

So they got close. And then they touched each other.

One dark night, Jett got scared from a bad summer thunderstorm and left her room and crawled up into the bed with her brother.

The same night, he leaned over and missed her cheekbone and kissed her on the mouth to reassure her protection from the thunder storm.

Jett liked it.

So they kissed. And they touched.

And they conducted their own body experiments.

Her brother Josh received a picture book from his male friends about sex and fucking females.

And they read, experimented and fucked as two lovers.

When Jett told Ned the first story of fucking her biological brother, the enlarged and engorged penis of Ned popped out its hot sperm into her sweet vagina.

And then Jett became his favorite fuck at his apartment on Brickell Avenue. She also loved snorting the illegal drugs, smoking the illegal marijuana joints and cigarettes, and drinking the illegal alcohol at the age of eighteen years old, since she couldn't do those illegal things at home or on the Miami-Dade university campus house.

Ned thought that her full of horse shit after the first amazing sex story, but Jett could bang his ass hard and blow his dick straight to the moon.

She had learned to do all those dirty sex acts somewhere as she was barely eighteen years old in her first semester in college.

Each night, Ned kept the drugs, the smokes, and the alcohol around his apartment counters just for her to use. Jett came over every day after her academic classes, staying the night as he rose and left for his work the next day. She slept inside his bed during the day.

When Ned came home back from his office, Jett was ready to be fucked being stoned and drunk during the long day.

And Ned enjoyed fucking her. His other working whores would stop by his apartment when they were not fucking their targeted clients. Ned, Jett and the whores would engage in a series of naked orgies until they all passed out from drugs and alcohol at night.

Ned turned and shook his wife into semi-conscious as she giggled and opened her eyelashes, moving and climbing on top of his legs. She pumped his wrinkled dick with her hand while softly telling about one of the same sex story, where Jetta had fucked her own biological father.

His dick rose for mounting as Ned leaned back into the pillows with a grin.

Jett moved and sat on top of his penis, slowly bouncing up and down, slowly making him harder.

Ned could fuck and listen to Jett for hours without exploding the sperm, feeling a set of erotic sensation mind blowing emotions, tilting his head back against the wall and closed his eyelids, letting his sex juices rise slowly to the tip.

Jetta mumbled her words, riding his penis with her closed eyelashes and a silly grin. "I was sixteen years old. My mother was a nurse and worked at night to make more money for the family. My father came home around three p.m. when I was out of high school. My brother played sports after school. He was trying to get a sport scholarship for college. He was seventeen years old. I changed outta of my school clothes and was listening to music inside my room on top of the messy bed mattress. The door opened. My father stood in the door. He was smiling and very happy." She giggled with a grin. "Hi, Dad..."

'Hi, honey. Nice day at school.' My dad smiled.

'Yeah.'

'Nice night, last night.' My dad smiled.

'Yeah.'

'Slept good?' My dad smiled.

'Yeah.'

'I know what you and Josh are doing, honey.' My dad grinned with a nod.

'Doing?'

'You and Josh are fucking each other.'

"I didn't answer with a verbal comment.

'Do you like it?' My dad nodded with a grin.

"I didn't answer.

'I like sex too.' My dad smiled with a chuckle.

"I didn't answer.

'Your mother works so hard bringing home extra money for all these nice clothes and things for you.' My dad smiled with a nod.

"I didn't answer.

'Your mother is so tired when she gets home from her demanding job. She works such long hours.' My dad grinned with a nod.

"I didn't answer.

'I work long hours too and buy you nice things too. Do you like all the nice things that my money buys for you, honey?' My dad grinned with a nod.

'Yeah.'

'Good. I'm glad, honey. I want you to have nice stuff that's why I work so hard like your mother.' My dad smiled with a nod.

'Thanks.'

'But your mother is so tired when she gets into the house. Dog tired too.' My dad smiled with a nod.

"I didn't answer.

'I message her back spine and neck muscles and then she falls asleep like a baby.' My dad smiled with a nod.

"I didn't answer."

'I love your mother. She is a good provider for you and Josh. Do you think so, honey?' My dad nodded with a smirk.

'Yeah.'

'I think that your mother would want you to reward me for being a good provider too. Do you think so too?' My dad nodded with a grin.

'Yeah.'

'Good. We think alike you and me.' My dad nodded with a smirk.

'Yeah.'

"My dad shuffled further into my private bedroom, slowly stripping the shirt off his chest, exposing a naked chest of blonde hair and a set of taunt muscles on his arms with a grin and a nod. 'Honey, I like sex too. Do you like sex?' He stopped and stood at the foot of her bed mattress with a smirk.

'Yeah.'

'Josh likes sex. Does he not?' My dad smirked with a nod.

"Yeah.'

"Josh likes to kiss your lips. Does he not?' My dad licked his lips with a smile.

'Yeah.'

"My dad moved and sat on the edge of my bed mattress next to my leg, leaning over and hugging my body with his naked chest. Then he leaned down and kissed my lips with his open mouth, pulling back with a grin and a nod while hugging me."

'Josh likes to kiss your breasts too.' My dad smiled with a nod.

'Yeah.'

"My dad released our hug and reached down, lifting up my blouse, jerking my bra down to my waist and leaned down and licked each one of my breasts with a drooling tongue.

"I closed my eyelashes as my half-naked body reacted to his tender hand and tongue touch like my brother Josh.

"My dad pulled back with a grin and winked with a smile. 'Josh likes to kiss your tummy too.'

'Yeah.'

"My dad reached and touched the zipper on my blue jeans, slowly peeling the metal down from the fabric with a grunt and a grin.

"And then the top of my pink girly panties appeared.

"My dad reached and touched both my arms, lifting my body upright to stand on top of my bed mattress. He slowly jerked my blue jeans down to my kneecaps and dropped down my panties to my knees too, leaning down and licking my public hair with a wet tongue. He pulled back with a grin, wiping off his salvia with a wink. 'Josh likes to suck your pussy too.'

'Yeah.'

"My dad reached and held her arm, jerking my blue jeans and my girly panties down to my ankles with his free hand as I stepped out of my clothing.

"My dad shoved my clothes to the side, reaching and grabbing both my exposed naked hips with his two hands, steadying my body and leaned down, licking my pubic hair and the outer lips of my vagina with his warm tongue.

"I moaned with lust as my dad felt like my brother Josh, gentle and warm. My blood was getting heated and hot for a round of physical vagina sex as I was rewarding my dad for all the nice things that he purchased from me.

"I parted my legs into a wider stand, standing on top of my bed mattress.

"My dad leaned deeper down into my vagina and used a tongue to penetrate into my wet pussy as my vagina juices started to flow faster down both my legs and into his open mouth. The sweet smell of sex in the air reached my nostrils as I moaned with pleasure.

"My dad tightened his grip on both my bare naked hips, pressing and crawling all his fingers over my skin and touched my shirt. He pulled my shirt over my hair and unclasped my bra from around my waist as the clothing items fell down over the bed covers.

"I stood fully naked on top of my bed mattress.

"My dad grunted with a smirk, wearing a pair of old faded sweat pants, dropping down the pants. He revealed an elongated penis that was bubbling with mucus on the tip of his dick. He ran both his hands up my ankles to the sides of my naked body, to my armpits, and cut over to my breasts, caressing and messaging them rough and firm, pinching my nipples with a chuckle.

"My body shivered with delight and anticipation of the physical sex act with my dad.

"My dad grabbed and cuddled my body from the cool bed and into his warm chest, twirling us around over the floor with a chuckle, dropping my naked feet to the cool tile.

"I grabbed his elongated dick with my hands, massaging up and down.

"My dad chuckled with a grunt and a smirk. 'Josh likes this too.'

'Yeah.'

"The penis of my dad grew longer and wide as he chuckled with a grin, watching her hands over his penis. 'Josh taught you very well, honey.'

"I rubbed his elongated dick up and down with my palm. 'Yeah.'

"My dad looked down at his outstretched dick and my playful hands with a smirk and a nod. 'Ready, honey?'

'Yeah.' I closed my eyelashes, since my dad was going to fuck me as his reward for all the nice things that he did for me. He was a good provider for me and my brother Josh.

"My dad lifted my body off the floor by my waist in the air, placing my wet vagina perpendicular to his elongated and engorged penis. His dick stood straight in line for a good sexual penetration. He moved my body side to side as his bouncing dick touched the lips of my vagina. 'Contact...' My dad chuckled with a grin, leaning to kiss my lips.

"My dad was strong, holding my elevated body underneath one armpit with a hand and placed the other hand around my waist. He jerked forward, pushing his chest into my breasts as his dick injected into my pussy by one fourth of its full length.

'Gawd...' I screamed in pain and pleasure.

"My dad grunted with a soft moan, thrusting forward again, shoving his hips into my rib cage as his dick injected one half of its full length.

'Gawd...' I screamed in new pain and pleasure.

"My dad grunted with a soft groan and performed a thrusting motion forward again. 'Connection...' My dad grinned with a chuckle, holding my body between his biceps as he started to thrust his hard long dick in and out deep and fast without halting.

'Gawd...' I screamed with new pain and pleasure.

"My legs were wrapped around his waist.

"His swirled his hips around and around, creating a new sensitive inside my vagina as he softly groaned. 'Honey.'

"I screamed with my new pain and pleasure. 'Fuck me...'

"My dad swirled, thrust, and shoved a long hard dick in and out of my wet vagina as he groaned with his new pain and pleasure too.

"I screamed in my new pain and pleasure.

"The sex action was faster. The sex motion was harder. The sex groans grew louder. The sex screams were piercing.

"Our sex juices leaked down from my vagina over our legs, our hips, and my floor.

"My dad exploded his hot sperm into my vagina.

"I flooded in warmth and hot vagina discharge, shivering and quaking in my lust dance.

"My dad grunted with a soft groan with of dirty sex lust too. 'Honey...'

"I screamed. Ahh...' Then I shivered in pleasure.

"My dad shivered in lust.

"I tensed in delight.

"My dad tensed in lust.

"I relaxed with a sigh.

"My dad relaxed with a sigh too and leaned down and bit my lips open, tongue lashing inside my mouth with force, pulling back with a smirk. 'Josh did very well, honey.'

'Yeah.'

"My dad back stepped and removed a small wrinkled up penis that once was a long beautiful dick from my pussy.

"I removed my legs from his waist and stood on top of the wet tiles of sex discharge, panting with exhaustion and heavy with my deep thoughts and my shallow breathes.

'Honey.' My dad whispered with a grunt into my face.

'Yeah.'

'Tomorrow...' My dad kissed my lips and pulled back with a grin and a wink, turning and leaving my bedroom as his sperm dripped and dropped down from my vagina and over the floor.

"I had fucked my father to reward him for all the nice things that he gave me, but I was not going to tell my brother Josh.

"My brother Josh would not understand my new love for my father. I loved my father. So if he wanted more rewarding of the nice things, then I would give him more love back with my kisses and my vagina." Her fucking tale ended as her voice trailed off into silence again.

Ned exploded his sperm into her pussy.

This girl was a fucking professional whore at sex. Her stories made him explode every hour. She fucked her father Monday thru Friday in the late afternoon, when her brother was at sport practice and then she fucked her brother on the weekends when her parents were out for the afternoon running errands.

Jetta loved her brother. Josh wanted sex. He wanted her. She wanted to make the men in her life happy. And Ned loved her. He wanted sex. She wanted to make Ned happy too.

As his dream plans were falling into place as Ned continued to build his billionaire empire. And he decided that he needed Jetta too. She was the one fixed constellation in his life beside the other self-exploding constellation Fabian, since the first day in Miami.

And Nessle didn't want her to leave his bed or his life.

So Ned married Jett, keeping all the drugs and alcohol on hand, hearing her repetitive fucking ass stories with her brother and her father, bringing out the raw barbaric savage and untamed wilder side of mild-mannered Ned Nessle.

10:13 a.m.

Quartet Associates headquarters

33rd floor business office on Tom

Warm temperatures with rain clouds

The rounded conference table held the Quartet, an attorney of the defense team, a stack of legal papers, and a telephone landline with no blinking lights. "Katt told the truth about everything." Tom pointed to the legal paper, exhaling with a huff of annoyance. "And that bitch Battleton lied about everything."

"Everyone lied about everything." Frank read the legal papers.

"Battleton goes on the eye witness stand anyways, lie or not. Seth isn't relenting to truth or justice in this gawd damn-people-hating-murderess case." Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration, staring at Tom and gently tossed back the legal paper on the table surface.

"Damn straight about that, Stu." Frank said with sour frown, looking up and surveying the stack of key eye witness testimonies of lies.

"Terri, where does Battleton place on the eye witness stood list?" Tom stared at the far wall.

Terri narrowed her eyelashes, looking down to her notes. "She will testify at the next scheduled court date after the holiday session on July sixth. Mrs. Battleton is the first eye witness in the morning, Tom."

"You read her damaging disposition, Tom. Katt verbally attacked Mrs. Battleton's person after her ballet class calling the old fart, a bitching whore. And Katt stormed out the Coral Gable City owned facility cursing, yelling, and pushing the young female children inside the hallway towards the moved door." Austin said with a sour frown, looking at the legal paper.

"Why would Katt do that?" Stu said with a puzzled brow to Austin and Tom.

"I firmly believe in my heart that Katt did not do this." Austin tapped the legal paper with a nod to Stu.

"Explain, Austin!" Stu said with a confused brow.

Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a nod and a sour frown. "Mouse did it. She is behind every evil thing while imitating Katt, and stalking Katt, and finally framing Katt. Mouse was the one individual, who successfully captured, tortured, and punished Katt and we found both of them, accidentally."

"What's the basis of your Mouse working theory, Austin? I don't understand. I might be able to agree with more hard facts." Stu nodded.

"Not a Mouse working theory, Mouse facts..." Austin tapped on the legal papers with a nod.

Frank narrowed his eyelids at Tom and pinged one of the legal papers. "Tom, do you know what this means to the defense team regarding Kattleen's trial?"

"Know that. I read Battleton's deposition on page three, paragraphs fourteen through sixteen also." Tom stared at the far wall.

Stu reached and grabbed the Battleton Disposition from Austin's hand, finding page three, reading the contents, and said with a nod and a smile. "Damn. He's good."

"Damn. He's great," Austin smiled to Stu.

Tom stared at the wall and whispered for his eardrums, only, "Tomorrow morning, no, this afternoon," smirking.

"Tom, wake up." Frank snapped his fingers with a sour frown, sitting on the opposite side of Sawyer.

"What!?" Tom stared at the wall with an evil smirk.

"What are you composing, Tom?" Austin stared at the nose profile on Tom, feeling both caution and concern in regard to the sleazy lawyer behavior, sometimes.

"Mrs. Battleton." Tom smirked and stared at the far wall.

"She is court ordered to testify on July sixth, Tom. You can't change that. Can ya? Can he, Austin? Can Tom change this event?" Frank turned and viewed Austin. Berrington shook his skull, looking down to the legal paper.

Tom swung and smiled to Terri, tapping on the table surface. "Terri, do precisely, as I say." Terry nodded to Sawyer. Tom smirked. "At 12:10 p.m., I want you to barge into Cutter's office..."

"Saturday? Weekend, Tom?" Stu said with a confused brow.

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "Believe me. Cutter's there, waiting for me to pull a rabbit out my ass..."

"Tom." Austin said with a worried brow at Tom's sleazy lawyer talents.

Tom ignored Austin and nodded to Terri, "Get Cutter to sign a warrant, inspecting the YYCG's business books, including the monetary financial ledgers and city compliance policies. At 1:15 p.m., you lead teams of three each with one CPA and one attorney. First team is Big; second team is Bad, and the third team is Wolf. Go directly into Battleton's private business office first, storming your heels down the hallway like leading a marching band and yelling to the rafters. You have a legal search warrant. Don't let her call Hamilton, scare the..."

"Tom." Austin growled, listening to Tom's sleazy lawyer attitude.

Tom chuckled with Stu. Frank held a sour puss face with Austin. Tom smiled, lifting his palms with a grin and a giggle to Terri. "Okay. Just really intimidate her, Terri. And you search her business office desk first, where she seats her wrinkled ass."

"Is that legal to search her private desk on a weekend date of Saturday?" Frank said with a worried brow to the nose profile on Tom.

"Hell yeah. Search warrants search anything, anyone, and anywhere." Stu said with a nod and a smile to Frank.

"Big Man's right." Tom smiled and nodded to Stu and Terri.

"Tom, I would strongly like to point out that Mrs. Battleton is seventy-five years of age. She might have a heart attack from your abrupt invasion like an alien dropping down from the heavens." Frank said with a worried brow at Tom's sleazy lawyer tactics.

"Ya think!?" Tom laughed, nodding to Stu. Frank turned and frowned to Austin.

"Tom." Austin frowned and growled to Tom.

Tom raised his palms, slapping the table surface, saying with a stern face to Terri. "A joke, being funny. Ha. Ha. Search everything until ya find that first payroll check stub. One payroll check paid to Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell on her first day of work as a ballet instructor for the YYCG."

"Mrs. Battleton swears to Almighty God that Katt worked for free and wasn't paid a red copper penny." Frank pointed to the legal paper, staring at Tom.

Tom ignored Frank and nodded to Terri. "Katt was paid All right. She might have suggested that her services be free of charge, but the YYCG is a Coral Gables local public government facility. The city government dictates money payment for all people and equipment services rendered on time. If Battleton didn't pay her the first time, then Katt can sue the city for back monetary payroll, benefits, and bonuses."

"Aren't you doing that already?" Stu said with a puzzled brow.

"Slander and libel lawsuits are being tossed up everyone's asses now. But, shit, if I don't find a payroll stub, then that'll become Round Number Four." Tom said with a nod and a grin at Stu.

"We're up to Round Number Six, now, Tom." Terri said with a nod and a smile.

Frank said with a sour frown, lifting his palm. "Wait! Go and ask Kattleen about her first payroll check stub. She can verify and produce it as hard evidence in her defense, Tom."

"Doubt it. Anyways, when she bailed..." Tom cringed. "Sorry, wrong term. When she decided to start her retirement plan, Katt trashed all her old legal and financial documents. Secondly, my strategy holds no testifying before the jury, the judge, and fucking Hamilton. He's a tiger on the eye witness stand. He'll rip my little Kitty Katt apart. Thirdly, I want to pop that super-inflated ego of his. If I can scare the shit of Battleton, she won't even come to the court room on July sixth."

"You're not a nice person scaring a nice elder lady, Thomas." Frank said with a sour frown, shaking his skull.

Tom jabbed a manicured finger at Frank, saying with a sour frown. "Fuck you, Mangrove. She's a bitch, a really old bitch. Terri and the teams will prove it and then you'll be bowing down to me," he slapped his chest with a grin and a giggle.

"Who's got that super inflated ego?" Frank turned with a chuckle and a smile to see the nose profile on Austin.

Austin smiled at Tom.

Stu said with a smile and a nod. "Not to mention, the shit day Hamilton did to her rented beach house. Everything was trashed or stolen for the murderess case."

"Just kept reminding me, that's round eight. Hamilton's going to personally pay for the visual damages to that rental beach house, since Sandy Middleton is suing us, because we're Katt's lawyers." Tom said with a sour frown.

"Pay her off, Tom. That's one less legal lawsuit against both us and Katt." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, tapping on the legal papers again.

"Money grows on banyan trees today. Huh, Austin?" Stu chuckled to Austin.

"I'm not paying that fucking bitch one penny, either. She lied, also." Tom rapped the table surface, shaking his bangs.

"You can't prove it." Austin viewed Tom.

Tom said with a grin and a nod. "But I will and I know I will. Too much stuff is popping up out of the thin air like pus-filled zits on a teen's ugly face. Hamilton's overconfident. He's missing the smallest details that I'll find and use against the asshole to win my murder trial." He turned with a smile and patted Terri's arm. "Go, sweetheart. Ya got your marching orders to visit Cutter and Mrs. Battleton. Good luck, Terri."

Terri stood with a nod, swinging around and leaving the office.

1:06 p.m.

"Where are they?" Stu sat in his assigned seat at the table, staring at Tom and the landline telephone, waiting for telephone call from Terri and her legal team with Austin, Tom, and Frank.

Tom viewed his wrist watch. "In the parking lot..."

Frank said with a smile and a nod. "Why aren't you with them, Tom? Your presence would..."

"Interfere." Tom smiled at Frank. "Terri's smart, talented, and a hard worker. She knows what to do and what to look for. They'll find it. Seth's the bad guy, ordering people around, and tossing subpoenas up everyone's buttholes. I don't play those games and annoy people."

Stu frowned. "Gawd, bro, you're an annoying son of a bitch 24/7, Tom," laughing with Frank and Austin.

Tom said with a sour frown to Gage. "I love you too, Stuart."

"She's looking for only one payroll stub, Tom." Frank sipped his tea.

"If I guessed correctly, the payroll stub was paid around the first week of March, ten years ago." Tom said with a nod and a grin.

"And out of all the thousands of files, records, and paper for the past ten years." Stu said with a puzzle brow.

"Call the courthouse, get a subpoena. The court clerks can find it, faster and quicker, Tom." Frank sipped his tea.

"That'll take days, months and maybe years to find one shitty sheet of paper." Stu turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Frank.

Tom pointed with a smile to Gage. "Right, Big Man. Secondly, Seth will learn of my nasty surprise."

"The element of surprise is a good ally in battle." Stu said with a nod and a smile.

"Damn right again, Big Man." Tom chuckled.

"Stu, you're on a roll." Frank said with a nod and a grin.

"Keep rolling, Big Man." Austin smiled.

"Knowing the old bat to damn well, she has found it already and placed it in a safe place and out of sight but within reach." Tom nodded to Stu.

"Why would she do that?" Austin frowned to Tom.

Tom raised his hands and slapped the table surface, shaking his bangs. "Hell, Austin. Think, man. Katt, she could testify, if I allowed it. Seth wants her on the stand. The jury wants her on the stand. Cutter wants her on the stand. Shit. I'm doing the opposite and using reverse psychology to freak them all out of their sane minds."

"Like, using your hidden and magical Tele powers, Tom." Stu grinned, since Tom was a science fiction nut job and a devoted fan when not doing his lawyering thing.

Tom smiled and shook his bangs. "You're not rolling anymore, Big Man."

"Are you using reverse psychology on Katt?" Frank sipped his tea.

Tom shook his bangs, smiling. "Katt's too smart for that mental game. She remembers everything. She could pop the date of her first paid ballet class at the Coral Gables Youth Centered without blinking an eyelash. Battleton ain't stupid. She's old. And she'll use her old senior citizen age to say..." he imitated an old woman husky alto sound. "O. I forgot. I did not see it with my bad eyes..." he changed back into his tenor voice, flinging his hand with a sour frown. "Or some fucking made up demon tale to cover her sorry ass."

"That's perjury." Austin said with a smile and a nod.

"Know that. Hamilton isn't after a seventy-five-year-old former ballerina, either. The shit ass is after my kitty Katt. He can't have her, never." Tom said with a nod and a smile to Austin.

Stu chuckled. "Listen to him, my kitty Katt."

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom frowned to Stu.

The landline telephone rung.

Austin lifted the telephone receiver on the conference desk. "Berrington."

Pause.

Austin looked to Tom. "Terri's on the line," said to the secretary. "Run her in here, please. Thank you, Madeline." He pressed the speaker phone button.

"Terri, speak to me, honey." Tom said.

Frank leaned over and whispered to Austin's eardrum. "Tom must stop using sexual references to women at our company. We might end up involved in a HR lawsuit."

Austin whispered back to Frank's face. "I'll talk to him about that later. Shh. I want to hear this."

Terri said via the speaker telephone at the YYCG, "Mr. Sawyer, I have found the document..."

Austin, Frank, and Stu jumped from their assigned chairs, yelling with excitement.

Tom slapped the mute button down while motioning with one hand for each brother to calm down and sit back down in the chair. The brothers sat and smiled.

Terri continued her conversation via the speaker telephone at the YYCG, "...subpoena. What do you want me to do next, Mr. Sawyer? Are your there, Mr. Sawyer?"

"Shh." Tom slammed his finger to his lips, signaling for his brothers to remain silent. He slapped the speaker button, saying. "Miss Roper, please read the document to me, so I have a verbal, audio, and taped recording from you. In addition, please provide me with a hard copy of the legal paper in your possession from the Coral Gables Youth Center which is a Coral Gables city government owned facility."

Terry said via the speaker telephone. "I possess a single payroll check stub which is dated on March fifth and ten years ago and it had been paid to Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell for one hour of ballet instruction from the Coral Gables Youth Center at the hourly rate of five dollars and zero cents, Mr. Sawyer."

Tom grinned. "Thank you, Miss Roper. May I speak with Mrs. Battleton please, if she is available for a swift conference phone call with me? And please remind her that I am the attorney for Miss Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell."

Terry said via the speaker telephone. "Yes sir, Mr. Sawyer. Mrs. Battleton agrees and is quite anxious to talk with you but only in private. She insists that her words not be verbally recorded by either an audio or a tape recorded devise by me or the audit team from Quartet Associates. Please advise, Mr. Sawyer."

"Please inform Mrs. Battleton that I will speak directly with her in private inside her private office venue without verbal, audio or any recorded transmissions on this enclosed speaker telephone. You may leave, Miss Roper. Please secure a copy of the paycheck document and then return the original paycheck document into Mrs. Battleton's hands in the same shape you found it. You and the teams, please return to the Quartet Headquarters, immediately. I require a legal meeting with all the parties involved in this very important tremendous investigational discovery for the US federal murderess case of Miss Kattrell." Tom smiled.

"Yes sir." Terry said via the speaker telephone.

"Is Mrs. Battleton there by chance?" Tom smirked.

"I am here, Mr. Sawyer." Mrs. Battleton said in a scruffy tenor voice via the telephone speaker.

"Very good, Mrs. Battleton! Please, allow my staff to leave your private business office. We can talk in private but only a few minutes. I'm a very busy lawyer defending my client's honor and reputation against the true enemies who are the living and breathing peoples in the mighty city of Miami and the great state of Florida." Tom slapped on the mute button.

Tom fist-bumped with Austin. Austin fist-bumped with Frank. Frank fist-bumped with Stu.

Stu stood, swinging his hips, clapping which was followed by Frank who did his own dance moves.

Austin did not dance without a girl.

Tom motioned both hands for a sit down signal to the rowdy brothers.

You heard the door slammed with a boom and the distinct sound of a door lock with a click over the telephone speaker.

"She locked the door." Stu whispered with a grin to his brothers.

"Are you there, Mr. Sawyer?" Mrs. Battleton said via the telephone speaker.

"Yes ma'am, I'm here. What can I do for you, Mrs. Battleton?" Tom said with a professional demeanor.

"Mr. Sawyer, I am quite surprised to find that...that payroll check. I...I mean to say the payment of Miss Kattrell's wages slipped my mind. I'm seventy-five years old. The calendar date on that check was the year...a long, long time ago. Kattleen was a good ballet teacher. She was not a trained ballerina but tried really hard and learned fast. I remember, so well."

Tom said. "I recall clearly during your verbal testimony that you did not pay Kattleen to teach ballet instructions to the little girls at the Coral Gables center. You told me during the interview that Miss Kattrell forced you to accept her ugly rudimentary ballerina skills or something like that."

"O no. I was misquoted. These young kids they misquoted me, Mr. Sawyer. Katt was very nice and very kind to the little girls and me."

"Are you telling me now that you paid Kattleen for her skills as ballerina instructor?"

"Do you have recording devices on, Mr. Sawyer?"

"No ma'am, I am an honest attorney. I believe people's words and honest actions."

"I remembered that I paid Miss Kattrell's first class of ballet. She insisted that I did not pay her anymore but donated the money for her ballet classroom. She used the money to purchase pints of milk and package of peanut butter crackers for the tiny ballerinas to eat after ballet class."

"She got a pay check. You got an instructor. What about her last day at the ballet studio of the Coral Gables Youth Center?"

"What do you mean, Mr. Sawyer?"

"You mentioned to the young kids, as you say, who work directly for Mr. Hamilton. I quote to you that Kattleen called you, a fucking bitch. Wait. I might be mistaken. Let me check. Yes, I am mistaken. She called you, a fucking whoring bitch." He grinned.

Stu mouth spat with laughter.

Tom slapped on the mute button, yelling in fury. "Shut up, asshole."

"That's not, here." Frank pointed to the Battleton deposition paper, shaking his skull and said with sour frown to Tom.

"I'm improvising, Franklin." Tom smiled.

"O." Frank frowned as Austin snorted.

Stu choked on his laughter, wiping tears from his face with his hands.

Tom raised his hands for the quiet time in the room as she talked via the speaker telephone on the conference desk.

"....no, Mr. Sawyer. O no. Katt did not say that to me. These young kids wrote the wrong words down on the paper tablets. I am so sorry that I talked to these young kids. They have my statements all wrong. What should I do? What can I do? Mr. Sawyer, are you there?"

"Quick laughing, asshole. Or go outside, Stu?" Tom slapped the speaker button, saying in his professional demeanor. "I'm here, Mrs. Battleton. Let me think for a moment."

"You are a lawyer."

"Yes, I am a lawyer, but I am not your lawyer, Mrs. Battleton. You sided with Mr. Hamilton and agreed to tattle about Kattleen."

"I was wrong. I mean that these young kids were wrong. They quoted the wrong words from me. What shall I do, Mr. Sawyer?" Mrs. Battleton sobbed and blew her nose via the telephone speaker.

Austin slapped the mute button, staring at Sawyer. "Tom."

"All right. All right." Tom raises his palm, slapping the speaker button on, exhaling with a huff of revenge. "Mrs. Battleton, I am a lawyer. Under these delicate circumstances, you could use a little legal advice. If I were you, I would not go to the courtroom on Tuesday morning, July sixth."

"Why, Mr. Sawyer?"

"If I were you, I would not talk about Katt, the ballet, the kids, and definitely not the payroll check."

"Can I do that, Mr. Sawyer?"

"Of course, you can, Mrs. Battleton. This is America. You're protected by the Fifth Amendment of the US Constitution. You didn't have to testify, if Mr. Hamilton said so. You say so and not him."

"You are correct, Mr. Sawyer. I am an American. I do not have to testify, if I don't want. But Mr. Hamilton is picking me up the morning of the court trial for Kattleen. What shall I say to him, Mr. Sawyer?"

"Well if you tell him about this private conversation between me and you, he will not be happy."

"I see."

"If you see him, then you must tell him about the first payroll check that you paid to Kattleen about ten years or so ago for five dollars for her very first ballet instruction."

"I see."

"Once you explain that you had missed the paycheck document, but now you had found it, Mr. Hamilton might charge you with perjury, Mrs. Battleton."

"Perjury? That's means lying."

"Yes ma'am, you have lied on your legal law deposition."

"It was a mistake. I didn't find it until today. Will...will I go to jail, Mr. Sawyer?"

Tom nodded. "You could. Lying is lying. This is a US federal murderess case. Kattleen is defending her life form. I'm trying to save her life form. Lying would be a very big bad deal with a US federal judge, the jury, and the prosecution, sweetheart." He looked with a nod and a grin to see his brothers.

"I see."

"Do you have any more questions for me, Mrs. Battleton?" Tom grinned at the telephone speaker.

"No, Mr. Sawyer. You have been very helpful. I'm very grateful for your legal advice."

"I would like to remind ya, Mrs. Battleton that my legal advice is off the record." Tom nodded at the telephone speaker with his brothers.

"Your legal advice is off the record. Good bye, Mr. Sawyer." Mrs. Battleton said via the telephone speaker.

Then the telephone landline clicked off with static.

"Boom." Stu stood, raising his arms with a chuckle and a smile to Tom. "You're a fucking genius, Tom."

"Brilliant, Tom." Austin said with a nod and a smile.

"One down, a shit more to go." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration.

"What will she do?" Stu frowned.

"Hide out." Frank nodded.

"Damn straight." Tom said with a nod and a grin. "I'll nail her ass over the jury box, if she testifies against Katt for a perjury charge."

"Once you show the copy of the paycheck stub to the jury, they won't believe Mrs. Battleton's testimony, Tom." Frank pointed to the telephone speaker, shaking his skull.

Tom shook his bangs with a sour frown. "Her verbal testimony is too damaging to Katt. If that bitch..."

"Fucking whoring bitch." Stu laughed with his brothers.

Tom smiled. "Right, Big Man. If that fucking whoring bitch speaks, Katt will lose her sweet innocent reputation. Shit. These little girls are three years old. Any parent, policeman, or jury member will believe that nasty ass boogie man story, no matter who's right or wrong."

"Tom's correct." Austin nodded.

"Should I tail her?" Stu nodded.

"Absolutely, positively, definitely not." Tom shook his bangs.

"A 'no' would do, Thomas." Stu smiled.

"No, I planted the seed." Tom said.

"The evil seed." Stu grinned.

"Inside her fucking head, so let it grow like lawn weeds." Tom said with a sour tone. "No tailing, Stu."

"I agree with Tom. We are not the monsters here. Hamilton is." Austin nodded to Tom.

Tom narrowed his eyelids at Austin with suspicion. "What, asshole?"

Stu and Frank looked to Austin.

Austin smiled. "Mrs. Battleton lives in Coral Gables and is the next door neighbor of Judge Sherman Cutter."

The boys laughed their asses off.

Monday July 5th

8:08 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (four miles west of Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Wanda Wasper

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Each police officer wore a pair of sunglasses, a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored trousers, and a pair of boat shoes, slowly marching from a shared non-marked policed department assigned sedan with a set of dangling police badges over a pink bricked colored sidewalk, surveying the trees, the grass, the street, the house, and the sky with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan, stopping on the front porch with a stern face to police officer. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade homicide police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion without makeup.

The uniform police officer of Coral Gables police department stood in front of the open archway with a stern face, "Take the laptop and enter your comments, detectives. Photographs were finished but the crime scene has not been disturbed." He extended the computer to Loree.

Loree accepted and cuddled the laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a stern face, scanning the room. "Traffic was murder getting here to this house."

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, moving with Loree into the living room.

The house was colored in pink with two garages and three bedrooms.

Loree moved to the sitting chair with a frown. "Coral Gables or commonly called The Gables. She is definitely dead and colored blue like the three other ones."

Hardy moved and stood at the dining room, resting and opened the laptop with a stern face, reading information out loud. "She owns a car that's parked inside the garage. She lives alone, not married. She is twenty-six years old. She has a bachelor's degree in finance from here at Miami-Dade University. Her parents live in the Kendall area. Not much else, she listed on her job application that she enjoyed scrub diving and horse races. She worked downtown at a bank as loan officer."

He stared with a stern face at the dead girl and the room. "She looks dead less than twenty-four hours like the other ones too. So she was murdered last night on July fourth after dinner or so. But the forensic team can confirm that death information. And again, there is not any forced entrance, such like, a broken window or busted down door, either. Who found her?"

Hardy chuckled. "Probably, an angry boyfriend, it's always the murderer with the front door key inside the back of his Bermuda shorts. It says that one of her co-workers came over to the house for a day of fun adventure within the holiday and knocked on the door. The door creaked open. The co-worker found Wanda inside the sitting chair like this."

He nodded with a hum, scanning the room. "Horse racing could be an angle to explore, if she liked to gamble. The house is very nicely decorated like she had won numerous pots of cash money from her betting habit on the ponies. A gambler that didn't pay back her debts, yeah, we solved this one quickly, Loree. I don't see anything else that we need to examine. Do you, Hardy?"

She back stepped from the dining room table with a stern face. "Is there something in her hand, too?"

He frowned, "Yeah, it is a one-hundred-dollar bill. That money will hold a ton of fingerprints, if you use a special dye of the entire world of finance in Miami, Florida."

"Noted and strange, we are finished here. I inputted our comments into the laptop. We will get the team of junior detectives to investigate and follow up on with the bank, the parents, and the bookies of the horse races, tomorrow. I say that we call it a day. After all, we're on vacation too." Hardy turned and moved to the archway, handing the laptop to the officer with a smile and a nod. "Here you go! Enjoy your Fourth of July holiday, too, officer."

Loree followed behind Hardy with a smile face and a nod. "You can bring inside the forensic team to dust the place for prints. Have a good Fourth of July, officer!"

"Yes, sir," the police officer nodded with a smile.

They moved and entered the unmarked police car, driving back to the police department and then home to celebrate the rest of the Fourth of July like the rest of Americans.

Tuesday July 6th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach (three miles east from Coral Gables)

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waxing crescent moon with warm temperatures and mostly clear

The landline telephone rang.

He leaned over and grabbed it, listening, "Gone."

Pause.

"Hamilton moved her," he slammed down the telephone receiver down, rolling out the bed, standing and staring at the clock 2:31 a.m. "Damn it to hell." he moved and strutted to the closet for dressing.

3:04 a.m.

City of Coral Gables

QUARTET ASSOCIATES headquarters

Miracle Mile city street setting

Warm temperatures with bright stars

Frank, Tom, and Austin stood and stared at the long transportation rig. The long rig was painted in a blinding baby chick yellow color with blood-red colored running head lights going around the top and the bottom of four steel trailers.

Big bold black letters read: American Medical Supply

A Star of Life blue and white colored symbol smashed across the yellow coloring on the first trailer compartment. The symbol denoted the six stages of medical care.

Tom yawned, viewing the long rig. "It looks like a wounded mechanical yellow caterpillar."

"Have you heard of a mercy ship, Tom?" Frank pointed and nodded to the long rig.

"Yeah," Tom yawned.

Frank smiled. "This is a mercy truck."

"No." Stu climbed down the cab, standing on the city street.

"Semi-tractor trailer!?" Frank stared at the rig.

"No." Stu slammed the door and squatted to the first tire.

"Big rig?" Frank frowned at the rig.

"No." Stu checked the tire.

"Fuck this game." Tom yawned.

Stu stood and swung around with a smile to see Frank, "Juggernaut."

"Good job, Big Man." Austin said with a smile and slapped Stu on the collar bone.

Stu swung and pointed to the rig which shined underneath the bright street lights on an empty city street in Coral Gables, saying with a nod and a grin. "A semi-trailer truck usually has three axles, consisting of a front, a steer, and a rear. This has six there, there, there, there, there, and there. Technically, this has three trailers and a cab."

"That...four." Tom yawned.

Stu turned with a smile to see the hair roots on Tom. "That's our little secret. Ain't it, Thomas?" He shoved Tom with a laugh to Frank. Frank caught his baby brother. Gage said with a smile and a nod. "Most of the US States limit a truck driver to three trailers with a Department of Transportation US government signed special permit," he stared at the hair roots on Tom. "Got that DOT permit, Tom?"

He yawned again, "O yeah, here." Tom patted down his jeans, whipping out the folded paper and handed to Gage.

"There are many reasons for both safety concerns and road design." Stu turned with a smile and pointed to the rig, moving and patting the metal of each compartment with a description. "The first trailer is twenty feet long with a maximum weight of 50,000 pounds. This is our containment box. The second compartment holds all the heavy medical equipment forty-five feet long, maximum weight at 250,000 pounds. The third trailer is fifteen feet and Katt's germ contained containment cell. All the juggernaut's three trailers are separated by a flexible and bendable plastic tunnel which is connected to the trailer with air pressure gauges for both safety and protection." He turned and extended his arms with a grin and a nod. "We got us a road train, boys," he chuckled with Frank. Austin snorted.

Tom laughed. "You thought of everything, man." Gage's mind was composed of math, engineering, and computer programming languages along with his massive strong muscles that Tom's body parts had encountered, too often.

"Gas mileage?" Frank said with a smile and a nod.

"One air pressure braking system. Electrical cabled lights. Ten manual speeds. Five tanks of liquefied petroleum gas." Stu said with a smile and a nod.

"Liquefied gas, you got rocket fuel for this baby?" Tom frowned with nervousness.

Stu nodded. "I had to be very creative and ingenious. The fuel cell compartment is enclosed better than Turkey Point," he chuckled.

Turkey Point was an active nuclear plant that gave each and every South Florida resident some type of electricity problem on its own.

"Shit, going to die, today." Tom yawned, stretching his limbs, closing his eyelids with sleep.

"No one's going to die, Tom." Stu said with a smile and a nod.

"Grand tour?" Frank smiled at the rig.

"No time, next trip." Austin slapped Frank on the collar bone with a nod and a grin.

"What next trip!?" Tom dropped his mouth, looking at Austin.

"Positions?" Stu nodded to Austin.

"Driver." Austin pointed to Stu. "Doctor," Austin pointed to Frank, "Assistant." He pointed to his shirt. "Shot gun," He pointed to Tom.

"I'm the assistant." Tom yawned, slapping his dress shirt. It was three in the morning now, but Katt was required to be in court at nine o'clock along with Tom, so Tom was dressed in his new business suit without his colorful bowtie and his matching new suit jacket which were inside Austin's limousine.

Joe was parked down the street city, holding a hand gun and looking for any suspicious characters around Quartet Associates building with the other QA guards for any trouble. He would follow behind the juggernaut for both protection and safety of the Quartet for the new day's activity.

Stu jabbed a finger at Tom on the dress shirt with a laugh. "Ya ain't going to look handsome in court with red blood on your starched and ironed white dress shirt, Thomas?"

"Blood, what blood?" Tom swung and stabbed his manicured nail to Frank's chest, growling. "Frank, you didn't mention blood before. Ya ain't cutting on her. Ya ain't a fucking surgeon. I ain't letting..."

Frank shoved Tom backwards out of a distorted face, "Calm down, asshole, Stu's referencing your blood when you faint and hit your ugly face on the tiles, busting your arrogant nose."

"Don't faint." Tom sneered and viewed Austin. "Katt needs me to be there when she awakens."

Frank shook his skull. "Katt won't be fully conscious. You don't need to be in the rear compartment, Tom."

Austin said with a stern face. "Remember? There is no court appearance for Katt today. You gave that excuse to Cutter. Correct, Tom?" Tom nodded. Berrington exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Follow the script, Tom."

Tom jabbed a manicured fingernail at Austin. "I wrote the damn script."

Austin grinned. "Good. I don't have to read it to you."

Stu chuckled, "More material for your science fiction book, Thomas."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole." Tom swung and sneered to Gage.

"Tom's cranky." Stu grinned.

"Tom's worried." Frank smiled.

"Ah, a feeling, the robot has a heart." Stu chuckled.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole." Tom growled to Gage.

"Sorta," Frank smiled.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole number two." Tom swung and sneered to Frank.

Austin frowned, "Vetoed, Tom. You're shot gun. Get into the juggernaut, gentlemen. Roll out." Frank led Austin to the first compartment, entering through a side door.

The door closed.

Stu led Tom to the cab, tossing his arms with excitement as the first sun ray light hit the horizon on the Atlantic Ocean, yelling with a smile. "Let's rock and roll." He climbed up and in the cab as the designated driver, slamming the door shut for a new rescue mission of the Quartet.

Tom split from Stu, moving and stopping, and climbed up the narrow steps in to the cab also. He moved and squatted on the floor, missing his passenger seat, jerking open the door to the weapon bin which was located behind the passenger seat. He pulled out a shotgun, a rifle, and two hand pistols with the proper ammunition.

Stu cranked the engine and allowed the motor to warm viewing the rear skull on Tom. "I don't think..."

Tom moved and slid to the chair with the weapons and the ammunition, saying with a sneer and a sour frown, "Shut up, asshole. You're driving, not thinking. I'm doing the thinking. I'm the brains here." Tom propped his new leathers on the new shiny dashboard, loading the shotgun.

Stu hit the button for rear speaker for Austin and Frank. "Hang on. We are trucking at an illegal eighty miles-per-hour to get down to the Keys within our tight time schedule."

"Copy." Austin said via the rear speaker from the first compartment.

"What's eating you, bro?" Stu shifted the gears, feeling the transport jerk forward, slowly driving through an empty street of Coral Gables, and watched the roads, the buildings, the windows, the street lights and the sunlight.

"Clark." Tom loaded the hand pistol.

"Clark will be deposed today."

"He's going to cite his deposition word by word with every 'i' dotted and every 't' crossed. Talk about a fairy tale?" He slammed the barrel shut and exhaled with a huff of frustration with fury, grabbing the rifle.

"Cross-examine him." Stu drove, watching the road.

"I can't. The rebuke will be worser for Katt. I don't have facts, fiction, or evidence to sway the jury. Better to let them think, it's all horseshit rather than document the fact that she did which she didn't. He's lying. I just can't prove it in or out of court." Tom pumped the action handle of the shotgun, resting it across his lap and viewed the dark street.

5:42 a.m.

Big Pine Key (136 miles south of Coral Gables)

Warm temperatures at sunrise

Big chucks of gray rock and tan, pink, and white seashell covered the exterior of the three-story island castle with a set of viewing balconies which offered a panoramic view of the bluish-green Gulf of Mexico waters. The castle was geographically located on the island of Big Pine Key as a State of Florida National Guard viewed the parked and running long rig.

The door opened.

Tom dropped down from the cab into the seashell covered driveway, moving and standing in front of the guard, and thumbed over his collar bone to the rig for transporting Katt to the Miami-Dade courthouse, this morning.

The guard raised his palm, saying with a sour frown and a sneer to Tom. "Hold. Lemme get the gate." He pressed a button.

The gate cracked and moved.

He said with a smile and a nod to Tom. "They told me, ya would be arriving but..."

"Who told you that we would be arriving here?" Tom said with a puzzled brow at the nose profile on the guard.

"I expected ya'll later in the morning today, not the crack of damn dawn," the guard chuckled, releasing the button.

The gate opened.

"Who told ya to expect us, today?" Tom viewed the nose profile on the guard.

"This way," the guard swung around, moving around the wall corner, and stopped, pointing to the glass window. "The window's sound proof and air proof with a breathing system for the chick."

Tom stared at the interior glass window, seeing Katt on the tiny cot, whispering for his eardrums only. "A smaller version of our containment cell at the US Federal Correctional Institution in Miami Springs too. Someone had poured tons of money to build this complex contraption and not Quartet monies either."

Katt slept on top of a single cot with tons of blankets which had been provided by a mysterious someone, who had taken great care of her physical welfare and pleasurable comforts along with a simple security system.

Tom had counted ten guards with loaded rifles that were guarding the front entrance only. Good thing, Katt was alive and well.

Or the Quartet would have reacted very violently, using their brains, their balls, and their billions, causing some bigger badass trouble.

The guard lifted the outside telephone receiver as the outside speaker sounded with a ringing tone. Tom advanced and took the phone, holding the receiver to his face, watching inside the window.

Katt stirred and sat upright, blinking her eyelashes awake, shifting and seeing Tom outside the glass window. She stood and moved her naked feet to the wall telephone, lifting the ringing telephone receiver, saying with a smile and a nod. "Hi, Tom."

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "Good morning Katt, sweetheart. We're ready to go. Put on the suit, okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay," Katt replaced the receiver and swung to the wall corner, slowly shuffling into the outer space man suit over her prison clothes. The space suit covered her hair roots down to her toenails. Jace had redesigned and built a new outer space suit with a light weight material for Katt's petiteness without the pinching and pain of the ancient bubble suit used by USA astronauts.

The guard punched a button.

The glass window opened.

Katt waddled side to side in her space suit through a flat and level window archway which was even with the smooth sidewalk, slowly turning and moving down the smooth driveway pavement to the rear of the juggernaut beside Tom. Tom held one of her space suit covered arm and steadied her as they walked.

The rear door was open, exposing an electronic tail lift into the last compartment of the road train.

Katt stumbled onto the lift, holding the railing for security.

Tom released her arm and pressed a button.

The lift jerked up and to the containment compartment lip and stopped. Katt stumbled into the lighted compartment to the bench and disappeared from Tom's eyelids.

"Big truck!?" Another guard scanned the juggernaut, touching his leg.

If the guard whipped out the mobile telephone for a picture, Tom planned to bust a cheekbone and some pink colored lips instead Tom shoved the young guard into the heated metal door, saying with a sneer. "Yeah, to contain them nasty bacteria, ya want to check it out before she leaves, man."

The other startled guards back stepped from Tom and the juggernaut, slamming into the seashell covered wall as the first guard waved his hand, yelling. "Forget it, man. We're just here as ordered."

"Ordered by whom!?" Tom turned and yelled to the first guard.

"Rhett Butler." The guard laughed.

Tom sneered and pressed the lever, closing the rear compartment, where Katt was secured inside an enclosed germ-free containment field. He swung and entered the cab, slamming the door, lifting and holding the shotgun in his lap, and sat. He said with a sneer and a sour frown to the wind shield. "That's the damn villain in this fucking story."

"What's wrong?" Stu stared at Tom's nose profile, shifting the gears.

"Hamilton is wrong." Tom said with a sneer to the wind shield, massaging the shotgun barrel.

"What did he do?" Stu looked ahead and jerked the gear into drive, moving the juggernaut slowly down the seashell private driveway of the seashell covered castle.

"This is all his doing." Tom growled, pointing to the lawn and castle.

Stu chuckled, driving. "Ya just figured that out, bro?" Tom moved and squatted down to the floor, opening the door, retrieving a new weapon from the weapon cache. Stu glanced at the weapon and back to the road, saying with a worried brow. "Tasers? What'da ya plan to do with a taser, Tom?"

He shifted back to his passenger seats as the shotgun post. "Zap his butt when he leaves the courtroom, today. No one'll ever know." Tom placed the taser inside its own carrying case beside his arm, patting the leather, smirking with pleasure.

"Ya can't, if ya get caught, jail time." Stu chuckled.

"Maybe!?" Tom lifted the shotgun, massaging the barrel, wearing a sour frown.

Stu grinned, stretching his arms around the steering wheel, viewing Tom's nose profile. "Hey, bro." He viewed the roadway with a nod and a grin. "Allow me to do that honor. I won't get caught. I don't do jail time," he laughed as a certified police officer with the Coral Gables police department which had his own personal contacts from ever getting jailed.

Tom hooted with glee, turning with a nod to see Stu's nose profile. "Big Man, I like the way you think. Wait until we're out of viewing range about four or five blocks from the court..."

"I know precisely where to hit him, affecting all body parts mentally, physical, and socially." Stu snorted with a smirk, driving down the main roadway back to Miami.

Tom chuckled. "Been planning this scheme long, yourself?"

"Since the damn mock hanging..."

"Right on." Tom fist-bumped and laughed with Stu, plotting out more accidental incidents against asshole Seth.

5:59 a.m.

Overseas Highway (one mile north of Big Pine Key)

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

Austin stood at the window, seeing her.

Katt sat on the bench, scanning her new room inside her space suit helmet as her voice transmitted from the helmet to the speaker in the operating compartment. "This is different, Austin."

"We had to improvise, since you were moved, Katt." Austin said with a smile and a nod.

Katt saw Austin inside the second room. "Last night, after supper, I couldn't call ya."

"Don't worry. We found out." Austin smiled.

"I guess I have both friends and spies."

"You have more friends than spies. Just between us, the spies will be eliminated once and for all." Austin growled into the microphone.

"That's not a very nice Christian thing, Austin."

"No Christians that I know kidnap innocent people at least from God Almighty's perspective."

"You don't know God Almighty's perspective."

"I do so. He and I talk every night," smirked Austin.

"I talk to God Almighty. He didn't mention about eliminating the spies."

"That's because He's waiting for me to deliver them to the pearly gates of heaven, before they are sentenced to the fiery gates of hell," snorted Austin.

"You're a very bad person, Austin." Katt frowned.

"I don't get my nickname for nothing," chuckled Berrington.

"I read about all these gossips and rumors floating around you, Austin."

"All very true," Austin grinned.

Frank entered the room and moved to the window, slapping a gloved hand on Austin's collar bone as Mangrove wore his set of yellow PPE protection equipment, and stared at her with a smile. "Good morning, Kattleen."

Katt yawned and smiled, standing. "Hi, Frank. Very early."

"Relax, Kattleen. Have a seat. I don't want you to become injured as the trailer rides down the highway towards the court house." Frank motioned with his gloved hand. She sat back down on the bench. His hand moved and slapped the button which released an odorless and colorless gas into the room.

His eyeballs darted and monitored the needle gauge.

Austin stared at Katt.

Frank whispered with a smile. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Asleep." Katt fell back against the wall, slumping sideways on the bench without any movement or sound.

Austin said with nervousness smirk. "Damn, I don't ever want to be your enemy, Frank. You're a wicked son of bitch."

"Damn right and proud of it." Frank grinned, quoting the infamous Quartet motto. "Preparation and precaution to all."

They moved and shuffled into their own redesigned outer space suits by Stu and slowly moved to the last compartment, removing Katt out of her outer space gear.

Frank wrapped a blanket around Katt's prison clothes as Austin and Frank both grabbed and carried Katt out of her containment compartment and to the operating room compartment.

They repositioned Katt on top of the clothed operating table.

Austin and Frank removed their outer space gear and changed into a new set of PPE clothing, since the liver poison from Katt only worked when she was heated and not cold like an ice cube. Therefore, Frank and Austin were safe around a blanket-wrapped cold Katt, who slept from the invisible anesthesia medication.

Frank shifted and checked her pulse, her chest breathing, her closed eyeballs, and her eardrums, and he smiled underneath his mask. "She's doing great."

Austin messed around with the instrument tray beside his arm for fun, having no single job during the medical procedure on Katt. "Sharp."

"What, Austin!?" Frank stared at her heart rate monitor and stowed the medical instruments inside the tiny compartment for Jace's use, locking the cabinet for safety.

"This is sharp." Austin pressed his glove to the blade tip.

Frank viewed Austin. "What is sharp?"

"The knife." Austin raised the instrument. The surgical instrument contained a nasty hooked razor blade at the tip, attaching to a curved metal handle. Austin had removed the clear bubble wrap around the sterile equipment, exposing it to the air and his germs.

"Cranioclast. Don't Austin." Frank turned and viewed Katt, double checking her vital clinical signs for the third time as the road train sped to meet Jace in the beach resort town Key Largo for Katt's vital life reversal medical operation of her deadly bilirubin.

"Don't what, Frank?" Austin twirled the cranioclast in the air, admiring the sharpness and softness of the silver metal, hearing the soft ting of the delicate sculptured metal.

"Don't touch anything, Austin." Frank pulled the linen sheet over Katt which kept her cold like an ice cube for the delicate medical operation.

"Sorry." Austin replaced the instrument on the tray next to Katt's hospital bed as Frank hooked up the IV set mount to the wall. Austin turned and stared at Katt. "Are you going to perform the procedure now, since she's asleep?"

"When we arrive in Key Largo, after picking up Jace, he's the real surgeon, today." Frank grinned. "She is only temporarily gassed to relax her muscles, before I inserted the IV which contains a heavier sedative for her medical operation, since this entire mission is a secret, Austin. Shh." A loud pop shattered the silence in the operating room compartment which came from the cab. Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, raising his gloves hands, yelling. "Thomas."

Austin chuckled, viewing the closed door.

His baby brother Tom, who was born last in the Quartet lineup, was already causing trouble as the assigned shotgun post at the half-way mark of their speedy road journey to meet Jace for Katt's medical operation.

Frank swung around, cursing and moving on his PPE booties to investigate the disturbance, slamming open the door and left the operating room compartment which exposed his body and his PPE gear to germs.

The door closed, sealed, and locked.

Austin moved and scanned the operating room furnishings, waiting on Frank to return, reading the bolted metal name plates on each metal cabinet which showed off the life-support equipment, the oxygen tanks, the pharmacy drug display case, and numerous other medical shiny and sterile pieces of instruments.

All the free standing equipment was bolted, screwed, and soldered down on the metal floor of the juggernaut.

The blinking medical monitors, three computer terminals, a two-way radio, and three telephones had been machine-screwed to the metal walls too. A scary robotic chandelier hung down from the ceiling which was mounted with an array of short and long surgical instruments arms for any type of surgical operation as the trauma lights decorated in a solid green color on the ceiling, the walls, and the flooring. The lights would blink in red color for any type of police or man-made emergency.

Two air conditioners blew cold air around the enclosed room which kept the weird-ass medical condition frozen on Katt. The cold air could not filter out the nasty bilirubin pathogens inside her liver, either.

So a top secret emergency medical operation had been planned to impregnate Katt with his sperm which would cure her forever.

Austin turned and stared down at Katt with a grin. "I might be a daddy."

6:11 a.m.

Semi-tractor trailer ride north Seven Mile Bridge

(10 miles north of Big Pine Key)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The dump truck drove between the bright sun rays on the south bound highway of Seven Mile Bridge. The bridge was the only connecting man-made structure between the city of Miami and the tiny Key Islands other than traveling by boat along miles of ocean water or by air inside a plane. The dump truck shifted its wheels closer to the bridge railing and away from the yellow rig in the far distance.

Jace had fabricated to Judge Cutter that Katt was too sick to attend the courtroom today.

However, Katt could be present while staying inside a new mobile germ-free containment transport which had been constructed and paid by the Quartet for today's murderess trial and located outside the courthouse.

Secretly, Jace would be performing a medical operation to implant Austin's sperm into her body which would assist and balance out Katt's fucked up bio-chemical system that came from her weird-ass bilirubin excretion.

Therefore, Cutter did not know and Seth did not know about the secret medical operation on Katt which would be happening outside the court house, today.

Tom did not know the folks behind Katt's impromptu and swift kidnapping, but he would find them and kill them as he massaged the shotgun barrel. Then he saw the object ahead of the road train. "See the dump truck."

"Identified and marked as dump truck." Stu drove and glanced at the instrument gauges, the road, the bridge, the ocean water, and the marked transport as the juggernaut traveled at eighty miles-per-hour north on Seven Mile Bridge to Miami.

The bridge was not named for a famous person. The concrete platforms were composed of seven long miles of concrete and steel beams which connected the low lands of Florida City to the scattered tiny islands of Keys over the Atlantic Ocean. The bridge's only best friend was the beautiful greenish-blue ocean water on the left, right, and underneath the concrete pylons.

No grass. No trees. No side roads. No ditches. No stop signs. No traffic lights. No telephone booths.

His pair of naked hands sweated inside his pair of driving gloves on top of steering wheel while cruising at eighty-five miles-per-hour.

Tom yawned with his eyelids closed. "What in the hell is it doing out?" He glanced at his wrist watch "...at 5:08 a.m.?"

"Probably, heading to work down in Islamorada." Stu watched the bridge and the dump truck.

Tom yawned with his eyelids closed. "Who fuckingly starts work at 5:08 a.m.?"

"People work different shifts of the clock, not your hours, Thomas. Which are what, again? Ten to two with two hours for lunch." Stu chuckled, watching the bridge and the dump truck.

"Shut up, asshole." Tom frowned, watching the dump truck. It hugged the bridge railing, trying to avoid a side collision with the side rearview mirrors on both the two vehicles.

"Your favorite expression today, Tommy." Stu chuckled, watching the bridge and the dump truck.

"Today, tomorrow and the next day, if you continue to piss me off." Tom lifted the binoculars, staring the dump truck. "Something loaded in the rear back."

"Describe?"

"Rocks, boulders, big hard pieces of earth."

"Completely filled?" Stu frowned, watching the dump truck and the bridge.

"Full to the brim."

"The driver?"

"Focusing. But it shifts."

"What shifts?"

"The fucking truck."

"Shoot it, Tom." Stu yelled.

Joe slammed down on the brakes, jerking the limousine to the left and away from the red blaring tail lights of the juggernaut.

The limousine slowed and stopped.

Joe had anticipated using the limo for both aid and rescue and not destruction and watched in horror as the engine hood of the dump truck crashed head on into the first compartment behind the cab.

Tom aimed and fired a single shotgun shell into the cab of the dump truck with a pop.

The bridge was not moving as Stu jerked the steering wheel to the left to avoid a head-on collision with the dump truck. The juggernaut jack knifed the first trailer at the cab.

The dump truck collided with the wheel base of the second compartment trailer and rammed the juggernaut into the concrete bridge railing.

Inside the cab, the air bags imploded and trapped both Tom and Stu. Tom's curses were muffled by an air bag as the juggernaut jolted and halted, resting along the broken part of the bridge railing.

Frank flew forward from the archway, landing his face on the floor mats. "Fuck." The air bags slowly deflated as it revealed two folded bodies.

Stu jerked upright and scooped Tom out of the cab with one hand, grabbing and lifting Frank from the floor with the other hand as they hugged and rolled together to the air and landed on the top of the rough bridge concrete. Stu rolled on top of Frank and Tom, protecting his brothers from harm.

Two land mines exploded from the underbelly of stalled dump truck as red and yellow flairs ignited with a boom. The explosion prettily light up nicely with the rising sunrise of a yellow and blue skyline. The metal pieces of the dump truck and juggernaut squeaked and silenced as the dust flew and settled over the bridge, the rig, the pieces of dump truck, and the brothers.

Stu rolled off his brothers. Frank sat upright on his kneecaps, nursing his bloody nose with his PPE shirt. Tom stood, yelling and pointing the damaged road train, resting along the broken bridge railing.

The road train squeaked and creaked.

Gravity helped push the dump truck through the broken section of the bridge railing. The weaken concrete and the dump truck tumbled to its death and drowned in the cold ocean waters. The juggernaut hung half-way off the bridge roadway and horribly sawed back and forth on the bridge railing as the vision caused eye motion sickness in Stu's worried mind.

Tom had killed the driver of the dump truck with the shotgun with perfect aim, since no one had bothered to emerge alive from the drowned dump truck. The jack knifed cab nose and three trailers sprawled along the length of the bridge. The engine hood nose kissed the western concrete railing. The rear compartment slid and dropped down into the water, confirming Newton's Law of Gravity.

Stu grabbed the waist of each brother, before Tom or Frank sacrificed and jumped onto the doomed road train. They witnessed in both horror and terror.

The last containment suite and the operation suite, and the first containment suite, and finally the cab shimmied, shook, and sucked backward down into the deep ocean water. The cab nose tilted up into the air, drowned, and disappeared down into the blue waters.

"Shit." Frank whispered, babying his bleeding nose.

"Hell." Stu shouted and cuddled Tom.

"Holy fucking shit. Let me go..." Tom shouted and struggled within Stu's gripe.

Stu released Frank, who was calm and controlled in every fucking situation and he moved and wrapped his arms around Sawyer.

"My gawd." Joe jogged and stood next to Frank.

"Austin's in the back." Frank whispered, babying his bleeding nose, feeling both worried and helpless.

"Leave, Tom." Stu lifted Tom by a waist, walking backward to the limousine for the court proceeds, today.

"No." Tom yelled and kicked his legs in Stu's arms.

"Leave, Tom." Stu sat Tom down at the nose of the limo, jerking the satellite phone from his jacket which would activate the stand-by disaster QA rescue team.

"No." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration. Austin and Katt were at the bottom of the deep dark cold Atlantic Ocean without aid, oxygen, and time.

"Now, Tom." Frank shoved Tom to the open limousine door as Joe held the door.

"No." Tom blocked the shove of Frank, pointing to the water.

Frank hugged Tom, kissing his cheekbone. "Court, Tom." He felt over wrath, overly upset, and overly stunned too. Both Austin and Katt were located on the bottom of the ocean without air and time. Mangrove heard Stu cursing at disaster QA rescue team that handled 24/7 all national and international security problems. Stu knew how to do his job at Quartet Associates as chief operating officer.

Frank did not have a specific job on the murderess trial only to support his brothers.

Tom had a job in court today to explain Katt's absent to Cutter and Seth by retelling Jace's medical excuse. Jace had already informed Cutter with a whit fib that Katt was sick and located inside the medical transport. So Tom had the VIP role to play and fake the show as a solo actor.

"Katt? Austin?" Tom yelled, jumping and pointing the calm ocean. He was deciding what to do, who to call, and how to get them out along with the desire to kill lots of some bodies for harming Austin and Katt. Next, Tom would find who, what, when, how, and why and beat the shit out of the guilty parties. Hell. He would kill them without mercy or remorse.

"We'll get them out, safely." Frank shouted and shoved on Tom, blocking the view of crash site.

Tom danced side to side, pointing and shouting in Frank's face. "Call the boys and girls."

"Stu's on it. Leave, now. Court, Tom." Frank pushed Tom to the limo door. "Stu's getting help. I'm here to support Stu, so you must be in court in both body and face, not necessarily heart and soul in front of both Seth and Sherman. Austin knows that you're praying for him and Katt. Court, Tom."

"No." Tom danced backward, yelling in Frank's face.

Frank hugged Tom, whispering. "The hull is watertight. Safety first. Stu's getting help. You have to be present in court, Tom. No one can suspect this happened. Nobody. Not Seth. Not Sherman. You have to be there. The stinky animal transport from Misty Farms is going to park outside the alley way of the courthouse, today. That was the prepared backup plan. I'm call them get the truck moving and parking behind the courthouse. Tell Cutter the new medical excuse. Katt is violently sick, vomiting contaminated green puke in her new transport. No one will question or come outside to see the truck or her contaminated germs..."

Tom whispered, staring into Frank's eyes. "Can't leave her or Austin."

Frank whispered. "I know..."

Tom viewed the baby blue sky. A pretty day, Sawyer was leaving Austin and Katt underneath the cold dark ocean.

Sherman cared about the girl, the trial, and the outcome, probably believing Tom's lousy excuse for the day's court session. Tom viewed Frank as they bowed their chins for a prayer to God Almighty, Mr. Holy Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, his heavenly Angels, and all the other damn heavenly angels to help his brother Austin and his new friend Katt. Tom looked up with a set of moist eyeballs to see Frank's moist eyeballs too.

Mangrove whispered. "Go now."

"Tom." Joe slapped Tom on the collar bone, pulling Tom backward to the limo door, feeling the exact emotions for both Austin and Katt too, and shoved Tom into the rear seat. Tom viewed the broken bridge, exhaling with a huff of fear, sliding over the bench. Joe slammed the open, slid into the driver's seat, dropping the steering gear, and carefully drove around the wrecked bridge.

"Gawd." Frank turned and viewed the jagged edge of broken concrete as his heart dropped down into his stomach, hitting his toe nails. "They're trapped." He moved and stood with Stu at the broken bridge railing.

"Two compression chambers inside two separate rigs." Stu yelled into the satellite phone.

Pause.

"Don't give a damn how. Just do it, bro."

Pause.

"Money. Pay the fucking ransom."

Pause.

"Make it within less than two hours and huge big fucking bonuses for all ya'll."

Pause.

"Good man." Stu dropped the telephone near his leg, exhaling with a huff of worry, viewing the broken bridge railing, and prayed to God Almighty for some good damn fucking luck.

6:18 a.m.

Semi-tractor trailer setting

Cold and dark Atlantic Ocean sea waters

Austin hit the wall, sliding down to the floor, rolled, and smashed his folded body into one of the bolted instrument tray stands. The tray held steady, compliments of safety freaks Frank and Stu. He stood with fury, rubbing his arching shoulder that stopped his motion against the bolted metal tray stand. "Tom." Austin whispered.

The shotgun had fired from inside the cab. Tom had shot Gage. The brothers fought like a pair of mean alley cats too much, too often, and too rough.

So both brothers will be tattled on by Austin and punished by their wives, since the Quartet wives were wonderful wardens.

Austin turned and viewed a sleeping Katt and unbuckled her safety webbing, probing her for any physical injuries with his gloves. Then he heard a second shotgun sound and he didn't hear Frank yell from the cab's speakers, either.

So Tom had shot Frank as well, since Frank rode both mentally and physically on Tom very hard too. Austin needed to find out their shared secret.

Austin slammed his stomach to the bed railing and buckled upright, grabbing the robotic centerpiece with a right hand and an unconscious Katt with his other hand as the interior air pressure popped both his eardrums before a soft splashing noise sounded in his brain cells.

The road train roared and tumbled rear end first down into the cold water.

The loose medical equipment slid down to the rear wall as Austin hung from the robotic tree limb with Katt over his arm and he could hang here forever. His eyeballs bulged as his nose bleed. His head spun with dizziness as the road train equalized the water pressure around the steel walls. He heard weird pops, soft pings, and loud tings.

His heart dropped as the road train slowly decreased down to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. The road train stood vertical on top of the hard sandy floor and Austin swung his arm on the hanging robotic centerpiece forward to her hospital bed, landing sideways on the metal like a spider, and quickly stripped the sticky restraints over her chest, her arms and her legs for protection.

Then his eardrums felt the pressure as road train creaked, moving and landing sideways on the smooth flat sand. Austin lost his gripe from the bed railing, flying backwards, and rested in a pile of loose items numerous soft blankets, two soft pillows, and one surgical instrument. The other medical shiny and sterile surgical supplies were safely stowed in the locked and secured cabinets.

"Damn it to hell." Austin moaned with pain, slamming a skull against the cool metal wall in the operating compartment of the road train underneath the cold and dark Atlantic Ocean.

8:08 a.m.

Seven Mile Bridge

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Silver and white paint on a set of roaming motorcycles, carrying the QA guards, gear, and guns, broke both the highway laws and gravity coming within Gage's eyesight. The first helicopter landed on the south side of the bridge as the second one hovered and landed over the north side of the bridge. Both copters vomited scuba personnel and gear.

A third helicopter patrolled the open sky, open water, and no land for any approaching transports or police cars or government authorities with two sharp shooters who dangled booted feet and webbed asses from the heated metal ledge of the copter. One held a loaded rifle and the other a taser.

"Three miles," the QA tech geek stood in front of the make-shift work table near the broken part of the bridge with ropes of cables and sensors hanging off the bridge and floating in the dark waters and pointed the computer screen which showed a shadowy outline of the road train on the ocean floor. "On a ledge..." she translated the combined electronic toys, consisting of a magnetic compass, a gyrocompass, a single radar sonar screen.

All the QA toys possessed a tracer which was a homing beacon and one had been installed by Stu in the cab of the juggernaut, in case of an emergency.

"See this, Stu?" She tapped a finger on the computer screen. The work table contained six working laptops, four satellite telephones, two radios, three monitors, and other electronic equipment which came from the helicopters. "Under the tip of the sea, there are mountains, plateaus, plains, and trenches. The pretty landscape makes up the ocean floor which is as complex as any geological formation on the land. See here, these are gigantic plates. Its moves like a conveyor belt. This is the sunlit zone less than one hundred sixty feet. The trailer is in a low trench on the ocean crust about a half a mile down. The computer model displays an ecological feature on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean off the bridge.

"There is no continental shelf. It is only a region of relatively shallow water which is about two hundred feet deep. At the outer edge of the slope, the ocean floor drops away steeply down to form a trench. There are sediments that have eroded from the land that have accumulated at the bottom of the slope opening and spreading out in a virtual flat space of water like an Abyssal plain. The space of water is covered with soft sand sediments, food for sharks, and a hovering man-of-war. A man-of-war is worse body threat to us rather than the pod of tiger sharks. There are also a pod of sea turtles and rows of oat weeds."

Stu turned with a stern face to see the captain of the QA divers. "There're numerous built-in flood devices around the hull of the juggernaut with sets of watertight compartments and exterior hand pumps to extract the flooded water, if needed. But don't bother with the pumps. Just get them out, as soon as possible."

The captain diver nodded. "And if I find damaged mechanics, Stu?"

"Shit." Frank softly moaned to Stu's eardrum, squatting around the work table with the QA personnel and Stu.

"Stu, see these figures, here," the QA geek pointed to the screen. "Floating fronds, one hundred and ten feet long, they form a floating canopy over the rocks and coral, where mollusks, sponges and kelp sleep and eat. The fronds grow from the bottom of the trench. The giant kelp had a central stem-like stalk covered with leaf-like blades, very dangerous. Cut a dive suit like a steak knife," she turned with a stern face to see the nose profile on Stu and turned and tapped on the screen. "At the base, each blade has a gas-filled air bag which keeps the kelp afloat. By spreading out its blades, the kelp absorbs the maximum amount of sun light for making food by photosynthesis. The giant plants are among the fast-growing plants in the world, roughly one foot per day. My point of today's aqua marine lesson, the trench is beautifully covered with them. The forests of kelp provide a home for sea otters and sea urchins," she turned with a smile to the captain of the QA dive team. "Can you talk a sea otter?"

The captain of the QA dive team folded his hands in a triangle, saying with a grin and a nod. "I can use hand signals. They're very friendly and react nicey-nice to the divers."

"Austin!?" Frank sounded with a groan to Stu's eardrum with annoyance from the flirting boy-girl couple and he planned to fire them from the QA payroll, once the rescue mission was done, after Austin and Katt were safe and sound.

"Keep your dress shirt dry, Frank." Stu exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing the screen as Frank wore a sour frown of both angry and worry.

The QA geek said with a smile and a nod. "If ya cut the kelp, you can allow the free flowing gas to be used sorta as water fuel for the sphere from the bottom of the ocean floor. Like a round bubble, the gas will lift the sphere gently up and to the air surface, Stu."

Stu turned with a nod to see the sphere.

The sphere was colored in yellow, a teardrop-shape hull made of titanium steel. It would be dropped down into the ocean waters and could go down to a depth of 6,000 feet. It operated on a set of charged batteries for almost a completely silent ride down and between the sea-mountains, kelp forests, and swimming ocean mammals, today.

Once safely inside the sphere, Austin and Katt would lounge on one of three uncomfortable steel benches, soaring back up to the surface. The batteries were silent to your eardrums with only the sound of the shaft bearings and propeller that would sound with a soft ting which displaced the accelerated water that flowed around the hull. The modern day deep diving civilian submarine used a thick acrylic pressure hull, since titanium did not flex as readily as acrylic. The acrylic provided for a long usage life but became brittle after numerous dive cycles.

However, Stu was a billionaire and could afford the high maintenance cost of a titanium-coated deep diving sphere for the both safety and protection of his brothers.

The sphere measured twenty feet and two inches in length; twelve feet and six inches in beam depth, and thirteen feet and three inches in height. The machine could swim at two knots for ten hours, sustaining three people for one hundred and forty hours of life support with six hundred pounds of payload.

The captain of QA dive team nodded. "Use the gas filled lilies to float the sphere to the surface, if mechanics fail. Got it?" Stu nodded in silence, allowing the captain to determine the safe maneuver once he was down in the deep ocean with his divers and Austin's life. The captain said with a worried brow to Stu. "Any more bombs, Stu?"

First rule of rescue was to protect the rescuers. "Safety first." Stu nodded.

"The other vehicle?" The QA geek said and pointed the screen, viewing the drowned dump truck at a half a mile distance from the road train.

"Forget it." Stu nodded to the captain.

"Austin and the girl are priority, first." Frank nodded to the captain.

"Austin, more priority?" The captain nodded.

"Both." Frank nodded to the captain.

"Austin!?" The captain said with a stern face and a nod.

"Both." Frank nodded to the captain.

"Both." Stu nodded to the captain.

"Both." The captain nodded and stood, turning and jogging to his dive teams who waited in the helicopters, loading into the lead helicopter.

The two helicopters lifted, soared, and hovered low over the dark waters, dropping out a diver one at a time.

Two divers and two bags possessed a pair of laser saws that would cut around the steel metal for the escape from the road train. Some of the other divers dropped from the copter with multiple bags of extra scuba gear for Katt and Austin.

The third helicopter carefully lowered the newest invention of Stu, a transport bubble submarine, which settled and rippled side to side over ocean surface. It swiftly drowned down into the water for transporting Katt up and to the ocean surface, since Austin was trained as a scuba diver for both his aquatic fun and any emergency situation.

"Sir," the QA guard stood and nodded in front of Stu's nostrils. "Two separate big rigs with an individual diver decompression chamber are nineteen minutes and forty-five seconds away." Stu nodded in silence as the QA guard turned and trotted back to his assigned post on the north side of the ocean bridge.

Frank and Stu turned and viewed the water, seeing that the rescue sphere, the QA divers, and their inner guts dropped down into the dark blue water.

8:20 a.m.

Semi-tractor trailer setting

Cold and dark Atlantic Ocean sea waters

Katt blinked her eyelashes open, seeing a silver tinted ceiling, feeling cold, and heard eerier faint sounds and not the voices from Austin or Frank. She realized that the sound was ocean water, after living on the beach shoreline in Ruby Beach, Florida.

The ocean was both cold and merciless to humans, who were warm-blooded mammals.

Katt twisted both her arms and her legs out of her webbed bonds and sat upright, leaning against the cold wall with a huff of curiosity, and scanned the room which appeared like an operating theater, seeing Austin.

He was leaning against the wall on the opposite end of the room.

She rolled off the table, dropping and crawled to the cold flooring, crawling on her palms and her kneecaps to Austin, and said with a worried brow. "Austin, are you alive? Are you hurting? I'm coming over."

"No, you will rock the compartment. Stay put." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, feeling the throbbing pain in his leg. He was blooding red color through the blanket. The cranioclast was embedded in his fleshy thigh bone, saluting to his face.

Once the cranioclast came out of the leg, the major blood vein would pop open which would bleed the soul of Austin to death. The steel part must be removed before Austin could move his injured body to the cold salty Atlantic Ocean. Austin slowly exhaled with a huff of frustration, facing a cold death as his brothers helped would be too late.

Katt crawled over the floor, collecting more blankets, moving closer to Austin. "I'm almost to you. Hold on, Austin." She smiled, slipping on tiny puddles of water on the floor and reached Austin, standing on her kneecaps, tucking the blankets around his shivering body.

Austin was not worried about her killer touch, since he would be dead in few minutes, whispering with a grin to her face. "We aren't finished yet. My brothers are working to get us out probably in less than thirty minutes," he shivered from his throat down to his toes. "Hypothermal. The compartment air temperature has dropped down to about forty degrees or so..."

"Cover the head, first." Katt playfully dropped the blanket over Austin's face with a grin and a giggle. "There ya go, Austin," she removed it and tucked the tail ends under his chin with a smile.

Austin whispered. "Normal body temperature is thirty-seven degrees. There are three stages of hypothermia. First, the body drops by one to two degrees with a mild shivering. Second, a warm body sensation with goose bumps. The shivering is more violent."

"You're only shivering. No goose bumps." Katt scanned his body, touching his naked face and his arms between the torn PPE equipment. "I didn't see bleeding. Are you injured somewhere, Austin?"

Austin whispered. "Stage three, the shivering stopped and then the body has difficulty speaking with sluggish thinking and amnesia."

She said with a nod and a smile. "You're talking, a lot. So you're only at stage one, Austin," she patted his arm with her naked hands.

He whispered, closing his eyelids. "The rescue team's coming. They'll break through the wall," he exhaled with a huff of pain in his throbbing leg.

Katt shifted the blankets from his body, looking and seeing the surgical instrument, and gasped.

He felt the cold air hit his sensitive wound. "Cranioclast," Austin chuckled, feeling his bad ass reserve leave both his mind and his soul. He had tried so hard to save Katt, but he had failed her and failed his brothers. Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration. "A person is not dead until they are warm and dead. The low temperature prevents some cellular damage from occurring when the blood flow and oxygen are both lost."

"You aren't experiencing blood flow or oxygen lost. You're babbling like a monkey. Keep talking, Austin." Katt tore more of his clothing, seeing the bloody wound.

"Heat is lost much faster in water." Austin whispered.

Katt examined the bleeding wound that oozed from a steel chunk of metal. The medical surgical instrument had cut through the shallow skin tissue and not a major vein or a bone fragment of Austin's thigh.

"Cold," he whispered, feeling the pain and the coldness from the lack of warmth, closing and opening his eyelids. "Sleepy..."

She shook his arm, saying with a puzzled brow. "You're going to die, if I don't do something to help you. I helped the little newborn babies in the neonatology unit at Charity Kendall Hospital. They were healed and went home the next week. I didn't kill them like they say. I'm sorry that you don't believe me, either. I'm innocent of all the crimes that Mr. Hamilton said." She grabbed and jerked the cranioclast with both her hands from the meat of Austin's leg muscle, tossing and pitching it against the far wall as it landed with a soft clank. She firmly pressed both her warm sweaty palms onto the bleeding leg gash of Austin.

Austin closed his eyelids, leaning his skull against the cool wall, and day dreamed.

Frank was saving Austin's life, squatting down with his doctor's bag in front of the broken railing of the Seven Mile Bridge beside Stu.

Stu had called the QA diver team. They were down in the cold ocean water, after the QA computer geeks had located the road train and used the sphere for the underwater rescue.

The QA sharp shooters were in the air space inside a helicopter which hovered over Austin and protected him and his two brothers.

And Tom was inside the court room tattling a string of lies from the Quartet script, saving Katt's life from a death inside the gas chamber in Tallahassee.

Austin exhaled with a huff of disappointment while hoping beyond hopes for some additional selfish time and enjoy more billionaire things. He wished beyond wishes that that he had not become involved in this murderess case. Instead, he was located on Dog Isle with a new flame acting like a billionaire Earth-god.

The numbness quickly spread over his legs muscles and moved up to his thigh bones, his stomach, his heart, and in his brain. His brain clicked with the chemical signals from his biological body with a feeling of warm, comfortable, and safe, but the hypodermic stage exhibited an opposite body sensation as his mind was confused with his biological sensations.

She held her hands over his leg wound, saying with a confused brow at his face. "I'm guilty in the eyes of the citizens, I guess. I can accept their judgment about me. I'm a good person. I help people really. I do. I helped the elderly in the nursing home, once I had discovered my gift. My gift is from God Almighty. Did you know that, Austin?" Katt could feel the salt crystals from her sweaty hands bond and cover the bleeding wound on Austin's leg like she did when healing the tiny babies in the Charity Hospital NICU, removing her hands.

The salt crystals had created a bright red diagonal mark over the injured wound of Austin's dark skin.

"Dead." Austin whispered with his closed eyelids.

Katt smiled. "No, silly. You're not dead. You're alive. Try moving your leg. The big long surgical instrument is gone. I jerked it out of your leg, Austin. I can heal with my hands," she playfully wiggled her finger with a grin and a giggle to his face. "Jace said that I have toxins in my liver related to the bilirubin inside my biological system. I have a chemical imbalance. Once I'm cured and I'll be a normal female, I guess. I really don't completely understand, but Jace does. You can ask Jace about my medical condition, if ya wanna," she wiped her bloody hands on a different blanket.

Austin blinked his eyelids open, staring and smiling Katt and his throbbing leg and saw an ugly crusty brownish-red diagonal scar over the rough pink tissue of his skin, a closed leg wound. He parted his lips and slowly lifted his leg with a slight tinkling pain and sore stiffness, gingerly bouncing it up and down, and cut his eyelids to Katt.

As a leader, you lead. As a student, you learn.

Austin had learned to never let Tom hold a live gun only a toy one for any future QA missions.

And the road train wreck happened which had left both Austin and Katt trapped underwater in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without Jace performing the vital life reversal medical operation on her. Austin growled in angry, since Katt could have been cured forever.

Then he smirked, feeling warm and happy emotions. Austin leaned forward and wrapped both arms around Katt, pulling her to his chest, whispered with a wicked grin to her face. "You're shivering with goose bumps, darling. I'll keep you warm and cozy until our rescue."

The water hit the steel, rocking the road train.

Katt pulled back from his hug, turning and viewing the wall with a worried brow.

Austin moved forward and pulled Katt closer to his chest again, whispering with an evil smirk. "Close your eyes, precious. I'll make all the noises go far, far away."

9:12 a.m.

The loud sound scratched on the outside the compartment room.

Austin lifted his face from kissing her lips, resting his nakedness on top of her naked body, combining their warmth and passion, whispering with a grin to the wall. "The Quartet Assholes had arrived." He snorted, feeling his mixed emotions of satisfaction, pleasure, lust, love, and relief.

One of the metal walls wildly ripped with a small hole.

The hole emitted a stream of white smoke and a cloud of fire sparks.

Austin turned and kisses her lips for protection and comfort, pulling back with a wicked grin, saying. "The Quartet is drilling a hole using a laser torch and coming to rescue us into this particular compartment."

The fiery sparks stopped. Gallons of salt water flooded through the small hole when two scuba face masks and oxygen tanks flowed out through the hole.

And then the hole was plugged fast.

Austin ordered. "Quickly, dress," he rolled off her nakedness and moved to the scrub gear, gathering the gear and ran his naked feet back to Katt.

Katt pulled down her shirt, saying with a worried brow. "I..."

Austin slid the plastic face mask over her cheekbones, looking down and double check her oxygen regulator which was full of air, placing it in her palm. "Hold this. Don't let go. I'm going to hold your hand. Don't let go of me until you're safely inside the sphere." Katt nodded, wearing the scuba mask and looked worried and scared. Austin hugged her, saying. "I'm scared also but behind that hole are my brothers. They have tanks, masked, and rescue equipment. Follow me and stay close."

She finished dressing and wore the face mask, holding the oxygen tank.

Austin dressed and placed the scuba mask over his face, moving and pounding his oxygen tank against the metal wall with the hole to signal the QA divers for the next step. He turned and moved to Katt, dragging and hugging her to his chest and into the wall corner safely away from the hole, smiling behind his diving mask that he would be a daddy soon.

12:02 p.m.

City of Coral Beach (126 miles north of Seven Mile Bridge)

Home of Austin Florida room setting

Hot temperatures and partly sunny

The under water rescue was a successful adventure and event for the Quartet and Katt.

Jace, Frank, Austin, and his decompression chamber had arrived at Austin's house in Coral Beach without fanfare.

Katt entered and rode inside her decompression chamber, moving back home to her new containment cell at the castle in Big Pine Key.

And Stu was required to stay on the bridge to confront the numerous local, state, and federal law enforcement authorities about the accidental vehicle wreckage with a minor chemical spillage of stuff into the Atlantic Ocean on the Seven Miles Bridge.

Jace sipped his beverage, standing beside Frank, examining Austin's leg wound. "Amazing."

Austin lounged on the sofa with a beverage, staring at Jace and Frank. The physicians babied and pampered Austin better than his mom during one of her weekday's visit to see her only child.

"Only a scratch," Frank sipped his tea, standing over Austin's leg.

Austin wore a pair of walking shorts with an exposed un-bandaged leg wound.

"That vein?" Jace pointed to the crusted brownish-red scar on Austin's thigh.

"Death sentence," Frank sipped his tea.

"Instantly." Jace chuckled as Austin sipped on his cold chocolate milk.

"Not instantly. Fifteen minutes, I would guess." Frank sipped his tea.

"Ten and a half..." Jace smiled, sipping his beverage.

"Will I live?" Austin sipped his milk, staring at Jace and Frank.

"Yes." Frank sipped his tea, staring at Austin's wound.

"I am absolutely certain that you will live for another seventy or so years, Austin." Jace smiled and sipped his beverage.

"Thanks." Austin sipped the cup of cold milk.

The door opened and shut with a boom against the wall.

Big Man entered, exhaling and inhaling with heavy grunts even with his footfalls.

"Who arrived at the party?" Frank looked up and smiled to Stu.

Stu snorted, passing the sofa, the low table, Frank, Jace and stopped at the bar. "FHP, MDPD, FBI, USCG and other alphabets..." He leaned over and grabbed a cold beer from the tiny refrigerator which was hidden underneath the beverage bar.

"Your excuse?" Austin said with a smile and a nod.

He screwed off the lid of the beer, turning and sitting on the bar stool to see Austin. "The Quartet was transporting very expensive medically needy medical equipment for our medically needy client Kattrell," he gulped the beer.

"Wrong direction?" Frank said with a puzzled brow to Stu.

"Didn't notice?" Stu smirked, sipping his beer.

"Wrong wreck?" Jace said with a puzzled brow at Stu.

"Right wreck?" Frank said with a smile and a nod.

"Status." Austin said with a smile and a nod.

"Clear." Stu sipped his beer.

"Suspicious?" Frank said with a smile and a nod.

Stu said with a smile and a nod. "Magnum has been always suspicious of us, since we switched sides."

"Do they suspect anything, Stu?" Austin said with a stern face.

"Clueless." Stu smirked and sipped his beer.

"Dump truck?" Frank said with a puzzled brow.

Stu said with a stern face. "What dump truck, Frank?" He sipped his beer. "Tom!?"

"Mad, angry, worried and still in court, since I called and updated him." Frank sipped his tea.

"Here's the bill." Stu stood and strutted to Frank, presenting a stack of green colored papers.

Frank accepted the stack, looking down with a confused brow at the papers, reading out loud. "Reckless driving, destruction of state property, abandoned maritime derelict..." he looked up and raised the papers to the nose bridge of Stu. "Give these to Tom."

"Pay it." Austin sipped his milk.

"2,989,684.71 dollars, this is highway robbery, Austin." Frank turned with sour frown and rattled the papers with fury.

"Pay it." Austin sipped the cup of cold milk.

"One of many, many more finely fines to come to ya later, bro." Stu grinned to Frank, since Frank was a true thrifty nature-scout of the Quartet and liked to save all his pennies for a rainy day.

"Fines? Many?" Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a puzzled brow. "For what, may I ask, Stuart?"

"Transporting hazardous material, overage limit of weight, length of rig, and much more. It's all listed on the citation tickets, Frank." Stu moved and examined the wounded leg of Austin with an encrusted in brownish red diagonal line.

Austin asked. "Did they dive, Stu?"

"Guessed?" Stu sipped the beer.

"Good guess." Jace sipped the soda.

"Great guess." Stu sipped the beer.

Frank rattled the papers with a huff of annoyance. "Medical equipment does not contain hazardous waste, Stuart. Radiation barrels from Canada do," he sneered to Austin. "Let Tom argue these invalid highly expensive tickets with the Florida Port Authority, Austin."

"Millions more coming, Frank." Stu said with a wink and a grin to Austin and enjoyed that Mangrove was pissed and miffed at everyone but him.

Frank looked down and viewed the papers and Stu, exhaling with a huff of frustration. "Millions? More?"

"Pay it." Austin sipped the milk.

"Where's Tom?" Stu grinned to Austin. "Has he called?"

The front door slammed open and shut with a boom.

Tom entered and moved to the bar, saying with a stern face. "How's Katt?"

"Court?" Frank turned and sneered to Tom's ass.

"Clark?" Stu said with a smile and a nod.

Tom said, stopping at the bar, leaning over and grabbed a cold beer. "Clark testified on queue quoting his deposition word or word, letter by letter, and punctuation mark by punctuation mark."

"Reaction?" Frank watched Tom grab a beer from the Bar refrigerator.

"Didn't kill him." Tom turned and moved to his brothers and Jace, opening and sipping the cold beer bottle.

"Not you, asshole." Frank sneered.

"O." Tom sipped the beer.

"Jury, Tom?" Austin said with a stern face.

"The jury pondered his eyewitness statement and then Cutter dismissed us for the day." Tom sipped the beer, moving and sitting on the sofa with Austin.

"Jury reaction?" Frank said with a worried brow.

"No applaud. No standing ovation. But Seth's smug face," Tom turned with a sneer to see the nose profile on Stu. "I thought you were going to pop his ass, Stu."

"Busy." Stu sipped his beer.

"Pop him?" Frank frowned to Stu and Tom.

"With a taser for being the meanest, evilest, and the mostest vile vicious villain in the universe." Tom snarled and sipped the beer. Austin grinned. Frank frowned. Jace smiled.

Stu laughed. "Gawd, say that three times really fast, Thomas."

Frank gasped and jabbed a manicured fingernail to Tom. "Do not think that mental irresponsible thought twice, Tom. You'll cause big trouble all around for us. Jail time. Fines. Investigations..."

"Shut up, Frank." Tom frowned, sipping the beer.

"Nothing happened, Mangrove. I was too busy saving bro's life." Stu raised his beer with a nod to Austin. Austin raised his milk with a nod and a salute back at Stu.

"Does Seth know?" Austin asked.

"Probably, but he doesn't have any specific facts or massive details." Tom sipped the beer.

"Or any eye witnesses?" Stu smirked and sipped the beer, since Tom had killed the driver of the dump truck, whose body slept on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Thank God Almighty for that." Frank nodded.

"I'll get the asshole tonight at dinner, Tom." Stu sipped the beer and smiled.

Tom said with a nod and a grin. "Yeah, he frequents a place..."

"No. Target. Practice." Austin pointed to Stu and Tom.

"Spoil sport." Tom slammed his back spine to the cushions and sipped the beer. "Fine. How's my kitty Katt, Jace?"

"Good. Calm. Sleepy. Tired." Frank sipped the tea.

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "That's great. Thanks, Frank," he turned and viewed Berrington. "Austin, you look great for almost being crushed by zillions of gallons of ocean."

"Thanks, Tom." Austin smiled and sipped the milk.

"Katt's a trooper." Tom nodded, tapping his fist on the armrest.

"She had no fear." Stu nodded.

"Kattleen possesses only faith." Frank nodded.

Stu said with a smile and a nod. "Faith in herself..."

Frank said with a smile and a nod. "In God..."

Tom said with a smile and a nod. "In us..."

"We failed." Frank frowned with sadness.

"Right, we failed." Stu frowned with disappointment.

"Yeah, big time failure." Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration with a nod and a sad frown. The medical operation was her only hope of avoiding the gas chamber of a permanent death in Tallahassee, Florida.

"Yes, major failure." Frank frowned with defeat.

"No, the operation succeeded." Austin smirked to Tom.

"Yes, the operation failed." Tom shifted and stretched his legs on the low table with both his arms behind a skull and the beer between his legs. He closed his eyelids, moaning with the total failure of the Quartet plan.

Katt had no hope left, since the last day of court was tomorrow.

Tom could not get her released from the germ-containment cell for a second time and try for a second medical operation. Cutter would not approve it for a second time, since they all had suspected something had happened. There had been no discussion points, but each reaction had been silky soft like a fucking love affair.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, hearing.

"No, it didn't." Austin smirked to Tom.

"Yes, it did." Tom moaned with his closed eyelids, since Austin was always the optimist even when the odds displayed triple damn digits against the Quartet.

"No." Austin smirked to Tom.

"Yes." Tom removed his legs, sitting on the edge of the sofa, and turned and viewed with a puzzle brow to Austin, focusing on Austin's self-imposed smirk for a Berrington victory. Tom stood, parking his hands on his hips, dropping his mouth. "Austin, you did not."

"Yes, I did." Austin smiled.

"No, you did not." Tom parted his lips.

"Yes, I did." Austin smirked.

"What are they arguing about?" Stu frowned to Frank.

"What are they arguing about?" Frank frowned to Jace.

"What are they arguing about?" Jace frowned to Stu.

"Naw." Tom shook his bangs.

"Yeah." Austin nodded.

"Nope." Tom shook his bangs.

"Yip." Austin nodded.

"Translate, pups?" Stu frowned to Austin.

"Spill it, Austin." Frank frowned to Austin.

"He fucked her." Tom pointed with a grin to Austin.

"He fucked her." Stu pointed with a smirk to Austin.

"He fucked her." Frank pointed with a smile to Austin.

"He fucked Katt." Jace pointed to Austin, parting his lips.

"I fucked her." Austin said with a nod and a smile.

"Gawd, man. Underwater!?" Tom frowned.

"Nothing else to do but wait on rescue." Austin sipped the milk.

"Tough guy." Stu said with a chuckle and a nod, raising his beer to Austin.

"Hmm, so that's how you cut your leg?" Jace viewed the wound.

"The toughest guy with pink walls in Florida." Stu smiled.

Frank raised the tea. "On the planet..."

"In the universe..." Tom laughed, raising his beer with a nod to Austin. "Great. Katt's cured. I win my case, not spoiling my spotless record. Happy ever after like the fuckingly fairy..."

"Well, maybe?" Jace exhaled with a huff of frustration, viewing his soda.

"What fuckingly well, maybe, Jace?" Tom turned with a confused brow to see the hair roots on Jace.

"Katt's cured. Austin completed the operation his way." Stu nodded to the hair roots on Jace.

"Only if Katt had conceived an embryo, she might present symptoms by tomorrow or the next day or the day afternoon tomorrow." Jace looked up with a stern face to Tom.

"I need to know, now. Tomorrow is last day of trial." Tom nodded.

"Today is the last day of the murderess trial, Tom." Austin frowned and viewed Tom.

Tom turned and viewed Austin. "No, tomorrow is the last day of the trial. Hamilton had called a new witness," he sipped the beer.

"Who, Tom?" Frank frowned.

Tom shrugged and sipped the beer. "Don't know. I zoomed out of there worried about Katt. Give me a break. This case is..."

"Find out, Tom?" Austin ordered with authority.

Tom said with a grin and a giggle to Austin. "I wanna be surprised, man," he sipped the beer.

"Call Hamilton, now, Thomas?" Frank said with a stern face of authority.

Tom said with a sour tone to Frank. "Don't matter. I can't debate, defend, or discuss that person with any of you. Legal stuff and all. Remember, ya'll?" He sips the beer.

"Leave it, Austin. Tom's the lawyer. And I want a day off," Stu rubbed his sweaty face and exhaled with a huff of frustration from the day's sudden scary-ass event.

Austin stared at asshole Tom.

Tom moved and strutted to the door. "I'm going to visit Katt. Anyone wanna a ride?"

"I will." Jace placed the beverage on the low table with a nod and a smile, following behind Tom.

1:41 p.m.

City of Miami

Miami Dade Courthouse parking lot setting

Court trial day four

Hot temperatures and partly sunny

The Miami television reporter said with a nod and smile to the television camera lenses. "The former boyfriend of Nell Nan Hartmann testified in today's murder trial. He witnessed the deaths of two men after the angel of death touched their faces with her naked hands. The dead bodies were autopsied and found with a matching pair of yellow bilirubin coated livers like the other 8,063 graves exhumed by the Miami-Dade County coroner's office in the early days of June. The special appointed US district attorney prosecutor Seth Hamilton has explained to us that there is one more day of testimony left with a new key eyewitness taking the stand, maybe Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell, herself.

"We shall see. We are definitely waiting with baited breath on the next ploy. Since Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third, who is the attorney for Miss Kattrell, as usual, has not bothered with a single word or a grunting statement on the current murderess trial with us. He slid, as usual, like a gator out the rear doors of the courthouse building right after the court session was dismissed by federal Judge Sherman Cutter." She laughed in the camera lenses.
Wednesday July 7th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waxing crescent moon, warm temperatures with clouds

The landline telephone rung.

He leaned over and grabbed the receiver, listening.

Pause.

"Judge Cutter!?"

Pause.

"Katt's okay. She'll be in court today, sir." He slammed the receiver down, viewing the clock time 2:31 a.m. "Damn it to hell." He rolled off the bed, dashing to the closet for dressing.

8:28 a.m.

City of Miami

Miami Dade Courthouse (10 miles north of Coral Beach)

Court trial day five

Alleyway side street setting

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

The semi-tractor trailer sat behind the court house with the word painted in bright blood-red colored letters: Misty Farms.

Four limousines had parked around the semi-tractor trailer and then released an army of armed QA guards that surrounded each limousine and the trailer as they stood and watched with a gun and a pair of sunglasses for an anticipated single or a multiple body attack on Kattleen or the Quartet.

Four tall shadows dropped from the cab of the semi-tractor trailer and moved down the Miami back city street, wearing a set of bright yellow PPE equipment and a hand gun mounted on a belted waist.

Stu motioned with his free hand to Zack, who was the best employee of Quartet Associates as he and Zak posed beside Joe.

Joe raised the hand pistol, covering his cheekbone, standing in front of the engine hood of Austin's limo, and waited and watched for any quick movement, listening for any odd sound.

Tom, Frank, and Austin stood on each side of the winch and hook in the rear compartment of the semi-tractor trailer as they displayed their Ghost near their sunglasses and readied to defend Katt's life, since some shitty slime-ball had leaked precious information about Katt endangering her safety.

And the Quartet planned to kill her new un-known enemy now.

"Clear." Stu called, moving and standing beside Tom.

Tom was handling the lift, pressing the button.

The compartment opened.

Katt stumbled in her outer space boots from the long bench and shifted to the flat lift, standing and riding down to the city street pavement, and slowly wobbled side to side in her outer space suit, moving to the building veranda, and disappeared through a secret door to the court house out of the eyeballs of the general public.

The Quartet followed her inside the rear of the court house building but moved and entered down a different narrow tunnel, and stood and waited for her to strip off the space suit which was accomplished under 8.3 seconds.

Katt slowly tapped around the wall corner, slumping forward her chin and her body, stopping in front of the two-way mirror of the mini containment compartment which had been built in the court house and paid by the Quartet.

"Pale!? She looks very pale." Tom narrowed his eyelids and pressed the speaker button, saying with a worried brow. "What's wrong, Katt?"

Stu narrowed his eyelids, saying with a confused brow to Katt. "And slumps..."

"My tummy hurts." Katt looked down to the floor and caressed her lower abdomen with both her hands.

"Frank, she's need Jace. Call him, now, pronto." Tom sneered and stared at her.

Katt must appear in court, today, since Tom could not lie on the last day of her murderess trial. Cutter would cut Tom's balls off and then hang them on the wall over the office desk in his private judge's chamber.

Frank ignored Tom and said with a grin to Katt as he watched her pat her lower abdomen.

Austin leaned over and whispered to Frank. "That was quick."

Tom swung around, saying with a sneer to Frank thumbing over his collar bone. "Frank, hey, smart ass doctor, what's wrong with her? Looky, Katt can't miss court for any gawd damn reason."

Frank saw Katt's pale complexion with her shallow breathes from the intense pain in her lower abdomen.

Austin leaned over and whispered with a grin to Frank. "I'll say light speed quick."

"What's light speed quick?" Stu turned with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Austin, ease dropping on the gossip of his brothers.

Frank pressed the button. "Did you vomit up puke green stuff, Katt?"

"Yes, two times," Katt whispered, holding her stomach.

"Are you dizzy?" Frank asked.

Austin leaned over and whispered with a chuckle to Frank. "One for the history books."

"Are you tired?" Frank asked.

"A little weak." Katt whispered, holding her stomach.

"Too bad. We can't record this for scientific study." Austin grinned.

"Record what!?" Stu stared with a puzzled brow to the nose profile on Austin.

Tom thumbed with a furious brow to Katt. "What the fuck's going on here, Frank? Why's she sick?" He viewed Frank and turned to see Katt, turning back to see Mangrove. "What's with the fucking grin, asshole? Gawd, help her..." He paused, narrowing his eyelids, and smiled to Austin. Tom turned and smiled to Stu and Frank as they all chuckled and elbowed each other. Tom turned and viewed Katt, seeing that she rubbed an aching belly, clapped and chuckled. "Fucking great news. She's..."

"She is." Frank shifted Tom away from Kattleen's eyeballs.

"Let's dance and celebrate." Stu said with a chuckle and a nod to see Katt.

"Celebrate later, Stu." Tom moved and shifted in front of the window, saying with a sour ton to see Katt.

"Am I ill, Tom? Did I catch a bug?" Katt exhaled with a huff of frustration, rubbing her abdomen.

"Definitely not, sweetheart." Tom pressed the button on the window control panel and said with a smile and a nod to her. "Frank'll explain later. You're a healthy girl, Katt. Okay? Move to your box for the trial, sweetheart. Okay?"

Katt nodded, slowly moving and disappearing around the metal corner to the glass box of the court square.

Frank turned and moved down the enclosed tunnel to the court square, saying with a smile and a nod to the nose profile on Tom. "I can't believe it took you so long to figure the riddle with the obvious clues, Thomas."

Tom said with a chuckle and a nod, moving to the door of the court square. "You're the smart ass medical doctor. I'm just the sleazy attorney. Remember?"

The Quartet entered and moved into the court square, taking their assigned chairs at the defense table with a set of happy emotions of a good day in court.

9:01 a.m.

Court square setting

Inside the court gallery, all the jury members entered and sat in the jury box for the last day of the murderess trial of two centuries in Miami, Florida.

Seth and his prosecution team entered and sat at the prosecution table. There were no key witnesses behind Seth in the first row of the court gallery.

Tom sat in the first chair next to Austin. Frank and Stu moved and sat behind the defense table inside an empty court gallery. Jace sat next to Stu on the first row also, after greeting the Quartet.

The court house guards and the QA guards sat in the last row in the rear of the room, guarding the locked and sealed door.

Tiberius had entered and moved to his assigned chair at the end of the first row behind the prosecution table too, viewing the nose profile on Seth.

The bailiff entered and sat on top of a high stool, leaning his back spine against the wall between the jury box and the nose bridge of Tiberius like a guard as order by Cutter.

Tiberius wore a set of wrist band restraints which were ordered by the state of Florida licensed psychiatrist Dr. Peter Mowran, stretching and lengthening the soft material between his wrist bones, listening to the great prosecutor Seth Hamilton of the murderess trial of two centuries as Tiberius labeled him a worthless bum, since Seth was both losing the trial and smearing his girlfriend's good reputation.

The Miami news buzz had proclaimed Mouse as a girl named Nell Nan Hartmann and Nell was not identified as an uncover police officer but the real murderess of the 8,063 souls which had been dug out from exhumed graves throughout South Florida. And Nell was also rumored to be the cold-blooded murderess of one hundred sixty-six cold and dead citizens in a tiny farm town named Boyer, Florida which had occurred about a couple of week ago.

And Tiberius had to endure more interrogation questions from the prosecution lawyers and police law enforcement officers about Mouse's secret chemical mixture which was a combination of scorpion venom and common table salt. There was some bullshit scientific document that had been published by the Quartet, where a group of highly paid researchers had tested and discovered the ingredients of the secret chemical mixture in a secret Quartet laboratory.

And the chemical mixture had been administrated and murdered all 8,063 souls.

Tiberius did not give a shit about live scorpions, salt mines, the Quartet, or Katt girl. His Mouse was dead and gone, and Katt was alive and breathing inside her glass box as the government agents from the FBI, the CIA, and the federal Homeland Security office continued to poke and prod at Tiberius for his new and old tidbits of information about Mouse's past life history and they did not answer his single lingering query which was the secret location of Mouse's grave site.

Tiberius wanted to visit and lay a bouquet of flowers on the Florida top soil. However, he never heard a location of her grave site, but a rumor of a mysterious bloated human corpse which was hidden inside a secret Quartet laboratory, somewhere in Miami. The dead corpse lived underneath a glass coffin which displayed a weird-ass colored yellow from a decomposing female which had been paid by ransom to the Miami-Dade University Medical School for fifty million dollars.

Seth stood and moved to the judge's bench, turning and viewing the locked and bolted double doors in the rear of the room, where lawyers and visitors entered a court of law. However, this mass murderess trial of two centuries, the public was not invited and the lawyers, the jury, and the judge entered from ass rear of the building to avoid the angry mod of native Miamians, and the vicious media reporters.

He said with a stern face to the door. "Death is a permanent ending for every biological life form usually caused by an event or a medical condition. Many factors can cause death, including predation, disease, habitat destruction, senescence, malnutrition, and accidents. The principal cause of death quite naturally is aging of the human body. I, as prosecutor, for this murder case will demonstrate an act of death for your enjoyment..."

"Mr. Hamilton, please be very cautious in my court room today." Cutter said with a stern frown, looking down to see the hair roots on Seth.

Seth said with a stern face to the door. "Part of my job as the US district attorney is to show Miss Kattrell's intent, motive, and weapon while proving her guilt and guilty of murdering in cold-blood 8,063 souls, who are now enjoying the benefits of heaven, if you believe in an afterlife. I will present the weapon to you with the court's permission, of course." He swung around with a smile and a nod to Cutter.

"Show me." Cutter exhaled with a huff of curiosity and worry, saying with a stern face.

Seth pivoted and moved to the prosecution table, grabbing the paper, and swung back to Cutter, waving it with a smirk and a nod, standing in front of the bench for all eyeballs and eardrums to hear him. "This official medical report from the state of Florida forensic and pathology laboratory of the public health department has analyzed the yellow coating of bilirubin on all 8,063 un-dug and re-dug graves."

He nosily inhaled his single sour breath. "The medical testing was performed during a single day of a massive exhumed autopsy which was overseen by the Miami-Dade County coroner's office which was led by Dr. Ethan Underhill, who is not present in the court room today. And a second post-mortem examination was performed on small mammals, specifically young puppies, kittens, mature dogs, and cats from the Coral Gables Animal Aid Society. This is called a necropsy.

"All the laboratory results of all the dead life forms have concluded scientifically that the releasement of a free-based toxin at the cellular level from an organism and not a plant, not a bacterium but a living and breathing human being. Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell possesses an abnormal level of toxicity used and measured by the state department licensed chemists. The mathematical probability is measured in terms of one outcome for a given individual in a city as hundred. So one unit is called LD100, where the letter of LD stands for 'lethal dose' and the number hundred is the concentration of total amount of poison. Her measured and recorded biochemical level is LD 100 percent, meaning any and all exposed populations or persons or puppies die hundred percent of the time. No life form survives. Her one single tiny little shared poisonous toxin which is located inside her biochemistry system kills every living thing on planet Earth."

All eyeballs darted back and forth to each face as soft moans invaded the room also.

Cutter leaned over the wooden surface, extending his hand over the hair roots on Seth, saying with a stern face. "I wanna see your report, Mr. Hamilton."

Seth turned and smiled to Katt, spinning around and handing the paper to Cutter. Cutter snatched from the hand, sitting back and reading every word of the medical report before he commented.

Frank leaned forward bad breathing down the rear neck on Tom, whispering. "Tom, do something?"

"I am." Tom sat back, tapping the pencil eraser on the paper with boredom.

Austin leaned sideways to Tom's nose profile, whispering. "What are you planning to do, Tom?"

"Sit and watch, my brothers." Tom whispered, tapping a steady beat with the eraser on the paper.

Frank slammed back to his chair, turning with a sour frown to see Stu. Stu rolled his eyeballs and turned to see the rear skull on Tom, shaking his baldness.

"Proceed with much cautious in my court room, Mr. Hamilton. I will be watching you and your behavior, very carefully." Cutter slid the paper back to Seth with a stern face and a nod.

"Yes Your Honor." Seth snatched the paper with a smirk, spinning around, waving with hand. "Open the door. Bring in the cage."

The doors opened.

A parade of court house guards entered with a pet cage, placing the carrier on top of an empty prosecution table.

Seth moved and stared at the pet carrier. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, may I present Cutie Pie." He opened the door of the cage as a kitten leaped on the table. The kitten bounced over the table surface twice and into the hands of Seth on queue. He chuckled, spinning around to Cutter, stroking its back spine.

Soft sighs invaded the room.

"Mr. Hamilton, you have brought a cat into my court room." Cutter stared at the kitten with a sneer and a sour frown.

Seth smiled and turned to see Tom and looked up to see Cutter, slowly moving to the judge's bench, patting the kitten. "Your Honor, the animal is present in your court room for a very good medical experimental reason." Seth turned and viewed the jury box. "The murder weapon is not physical but chemical, so I propose to test my medical experiment with the permission of the court, of course, by conducting a simple trial. Excuse the pun. A simple exchange of wet fluids as Miss Kattrell physically touches the kitten with both her hands for about five seconds that is less than a minute."

"Do you object, Mr. Sawyer?" Cutter cut his eyeballs to Tom.

"No." Tom sat back in his chair and twirled the pencil, displaying a poker face.

Cutter leaned over the bench surface, saying with a stern face of authority. "Allow me to restate, Mr. Sawyer? The prosecution wants Miss Kattrell to touch the small mammal with her bare hands inside her box cell for five seconds to prove beyond any doubt that she is the mysterious angel of death."

"Okay." Tom slightly smirked, twirling the pencil.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, slamming his back in his chair, saying with a stern face and a nod, "Very well, Mr. Sawyer! Mr. Hamilton, what happens once Miss Kattrell touches the kitten?"

"After she pets the kitten, the young cat will be placed inside this pet cage for the night." Seth turned and pointed to a larger pet cage on the floor slightly in the middle of the judge's bench and jury box which had been delivered to the court room earlier this morning and without permission, of course. He stood in front of the bench, staring at the Quartet. "I have ordered a small detail of devoted federal prison guards to surround the court house building at the front, both sides, and the rear entrance, as well as, there is a large garrison of Miami-Dade police officers who will guard the exterior doors of this court room also. In addition, there will be two pairs of US court house bailiffs who will be posted and posed inside this court room tonight. Once the trial session for the day has ended, they will watch over the safety of the kitten inside its pet carrier."

"Watch the kitten for what exactly?" Cutter frowned.

"A change." Seth said with a smirk and a nod, stroking the kitten in his hands.

"Change of what, fur color? Eye color? I do not comprehend, Mr. Hamilton." Cutter said with a stern face and a sour tone.

"My medical experiment proposes that Miss Kattrell lives with a contained, contaminated, and controlled toxin in her biological body which is activated by heat. The heat causes her sweat glands to excrete toxin poisons through her outer skin, specifically by her naked hands. The hands contain the most sweat glands in a body, if anyone is interested in my biology lesson for the day. Therefore, her naked bare hands are lethal weapons to all and every human, animal, plant, and organism on planet Earth. If Miss Kattrell touches you like the fabled angel of death with her heated poison, then you die within twenty hours or less. The toxin bilirubin is absorbed into your skin both invisible and painlessly. Your body identifies the poison by sending the cellular molecules to the liver which is a human body garbage disposal. Once trapped, the molecules cool inside the liver and solidify and form a yellow coating which consists of a solid matter of bilirubin. Bilirubin is the enzyme which captures the toxin in your contaminated body. Once the liver is sealed, the human body spreads the toxin throughout sub-cellular units, attacking and invading the nervous system, the digestive system, the respiratory system, the cardiology system..."

"Basically, all the vital functions within a biological system to maintain a life form." Cutter said with a stern face.

"Death," Seth swung around with a smirk and a nod to see Cutter, petting the kitten, "Your Honor..."

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a stern face. "Mr. Hamilton, are you telling me that you expect the chemical process to duplicate and behave biologically the same way while affecting a tiny young kitten too?"

"Yes Your Honor." Seth nodded, petting the kitten.

Cutter said with a stern face. "Therefore, you are assuming that the kitten will be dead due to a bilirubin toxin administered by Miss Kattrell through her hand holding for five seconds. And the jury will see the results of the five seconds of hand holding this tomorrow morning, when we all gather in the court room."

"You are very good, Your Honor." Seth smiled, petting the kitten.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a stern frown to Seth. "What is your next step, Mr. Hamilton?"

"I would like for Miss Kattrell to pet Cutie Pie for five seconds, please." Seth smiled and swung to Tom, petting the kitten.

"Mr. Sawyer, do you object?" Cutter cut his eyeballs and a stern tone to see Tom.

"No." Tom sat back in his chair with a smile, twirling the pencil.

"Bailiff, retrieve the kitten from Mr. Hamilton. Place the kitten back into the small pet carrier and tote it to the portal hole which is the device that links the containment box, where Miss Kattrell is located in my court room." Cutter ordered and watched the bailiff and Katt.

The bailiff moved and accepted the kitten from Seth, turning and pacing to the pet carrier on top of the prosecution table, placing the kitten inside the carrier, and locked the door. He lifted the light weight pet carrier to his arms and spun around to the glass box which was near the defense table, moving and stopped in front the portal hole. He pressed the red button on the panel as the air hatch sounded with a hiss.

The air pressure had shifted all the bouncing deadly molecules in the contamination box to Katt and away from the portal door.

A door opened.

The bailiff placed the pet carrier in the portal platform and pressed the green second button.

The door closed up as her inner portal door popped open.

Katt stood and moved to the pet carrier, opening the door, grabbing the tiny kitten with a grin and a giggle. She lifted the kitten to her face and groomed the fur with both her wet hands, since the internal climate control in her glass box showed the air temperature gauge at eight five degrees Fahrenheit.

Katt sweated her magical salt crystals over her hands and over the kitten which made its fur wet and matted while petting the kitten.

However, Seth was wrong and right.

She did have sweaty hands all the time when the temperatures were heated in a room or outside in the sun, but she did not kill all those people like Seth, Tiberius, and a dead Nell had claimed. She was innocent of all those crimes, proving it by petting and holding the cute kitten for the required time limit with her sweaty and salty palms.

The bailiff stared down at his wrist watch and yelled. "Time had completed for five seconds, Your Honor. Please slip the kitten back into the pet carrier, Miss Kattrell."

Katt moved and placed the kitten back inside the pet carrier with a giggle and a grin, closing the cage, back stepping from the portal.

The bailiff pressed the red button.

The air pressure hissed and redistributed the air molecules back to Katt inside the containment box.

The door closed.

The bailiff pressed the green button.

The air pressure hissed again which indicated the portal was cleaned and clear of her deadly germs.

The door opened.

Seth motioned with his hand to the double doors, saying with a stern face to the new person. "Your Honor, in all fairness to the devoted and dedicated court house staff, an animal handler will handle the pet carrier now for both safety and security."

A new person marched forward from the court gallery, wearing a set of puke green colored PPE gear which consisted of a long coat, a set of heavy boots, a pointy hood, a complete face mask, and three sets of gloves over his naked hand, and stopped in front of the portal device in the glass box.

The bailiff gladly moved and scooted back into his wall corner in front of Tiberius, watching the activity with interest.

The animal handled grabbed the pet carrier and turned, toting it to a larger animal cage that could hold a mountain lion, squatting and placing the metal plate of the small pet carrier against the metal of the large cage. He raised both doors at the same time, shook the pet carrier, and released the contaminated kitten, so it could roam, sleep, shit, and pee in the big animal cage and away from the other healthy humans.

"Done." Seth clapped with a smile and a nod, staring at the kitten inside the large cage that was leaping around for its fun. He was happiness with a finally victory of the murderess trial, since the girl had touched the kitten with both her toxic hands. Then tomorrow morning, the kitten would be dead, the girl would be sentenced and executed for death with the crime of two centuries, and Seth will be famous, first and rich, second.

The animal handler stood and placed a large dark light weight blanket over the large cage to protect the kitten also, squatting and grabbing the pet carrier, and turned without a facial expression and left the court room through the open doors in the rear of court room.

The door closed.

"What about food, water, and sanitization for the animal?" Cutter stared down at the top of the dark blanket that held the large cage with the contaminated kitten.

Seth looked up with a smile and a nod to see Cutter, pointing to the large cage. "This cage contains a fresh bowl of dried food for one night, a water dispenser, and a small litter box. Kittens are babies and sleep a lot. Cutie Pie will be safe and warm for the night."

"Your Honor," Austin stood, addressing Cutter for the first time as Tom looked up and narrowed his eyelids at Austin. Austin said with a smile and a nod. "For everyone's honesty, security, and integrity, the Quartet offers the use of our private and bonded QA guards paired with each federal prison guard and each Miami-Dade police officer also during this court-approved medical experiment until tomorrow morning, after the court session adjoins. The Quartet will also freely provide a set of entertainment devices and tables of refreshments, as well as, relief...."

"No." Seth stomped his leathers and shook his skull, looking up with a sour frown to see Cutter from Austin's slick interference.

Cutter turned with a smile and a nod to see Seth. "I believe that Dr. Berrington's suggestion to be an excellent idea. This is a fair and just court of law, Mr. Hamilton."

Seth pointed with his non-manicured fingernails to each corner wall in the ceiling. "Your Honor, there are numerous video tape and recording monitors which are located throughout the corridor, the hallways, and here in the court room..."

"Thanks for noting the mechanic machines, Mr. Hamilton. I work here. However, I will pull all video tape and recording films for my personal inspection tomorrow morning to ensure a fair and just trial will continue to be conducted today and throughout the rest of the night. Thank you, Dr. Berrington. I graciously accept the extra guards, the food tables, and the entertainment devices on behalf of all the working staff today, tonight, and until tomorrow morning." Austin nodded and stood as Cutter banged the gravel on the bench surface, saying with a nod and a smile. "Dismissed for the day." He stood and moved, leaving his court room.

The bailiff moved and stood in the middle of the room and slightly away from the animal cage, motioning with his hands and without his words, starting the systemic procedure of dismissing the jury, the lawyers, and Tiberius. He motioned for the jury members to stood and leave the court room first.

All eyeballs stared at the dark blanket which held a large cage and a tiny kitten as the bodies moved and left the court room in silence and in anticipation for the last day of the murderess trial.

10:46 a.m.

Limousine ride from alleyway

Hot temperatures with isolated thunder storms

The Quartet moved and left the courtroom with Jace, after Seth and his prosecution team, traveling down the narrow tunnel inside the guts of the court room, stopping and staring at the window.

Each brother waved a good bye to Katt as she had dressed in her outer space suit and was leaving to enter her own sterile transportation which was traveling back to the containment cell at the Miami Dade Correction Institution for Women.

No person had claimed to move Katt from her original containment cell, but Cutter ordered her back to the local prison for both convenience and safety.

And then the mysterious matter was dropped.

Joe had the limousine door open and an umbrella over his head from the down pour of rain for the day as each brother slid into Austin's limousine which was located at the rear entrance of the court house, as usual.

Tom scooted to the forward bench seat, sitting on the opposite side Jace and Frank, saying with a sneer and a sour frown, and jabbed a manicured fingernail at Jace. "And, where the hell did Hamilton get that medical data, Dr. Jackson?"

"Do not point your nasty shitty fingernail at me, Thomas. I do not give my secrets away. I am her personal physician and a loyal friend. Look someplace else, pal." Jace said with a sneer, feeling both stress and worry from the stunned announcement of a surprising result in court, today.

"What about our twenty-million-dollar research partners, who assisted with the secret pieces of the puzzle?" Tom narrowed his eyelids at Jace and still jabbed a manicured fingernail at the family physician.

Jace slapped the hand on Tom away from his stern face, saying with a serious tone to Austin. "They were awarded very well for their work. I know these professional physicians personally for many, many years. They didn't interview or tattle tale. They're true researches like me, Austin. The work that we doled to them was both isolated and unique. The smart docs couldn't have figured out the connection to Katt's case or her biological puzzle, since the discovery of the bilirubin liver toxin inside Katt's biological system, scientists from all over the world have been trying to solve the clinical puzzle. Without samples of her blood, fluid, and organs, they cannot succeed."

"Jace is cleared. Cease, Tom." Austin turned with a stern face to see the nose profile on Tom.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, saying with a sneer and a sour face to his brothers. "I'm pissed. Seth found out. I want to know who, what, when, where, why, and how." He jabbed a manicured fingernail into his palm with a nod and a sneer.

"Allow me the pleasure of answering those questions. I feel the same way. We have an internal spy among our mists, brothers." Stu cracked his knuckles with a sneer and a nod to see the nose profile on Tom.

"Go for Stu. Cut his heart out and shove it up his ass." Tom turned with a sneer to see Stu.

"Do ya want to watch, Tom?" Stu said with a nod and smirk to Tom.

Tom shook his bangs, looking down and viewing his mobile telephone. "I ain't got time just roll it on your cell phone for our viewing pleasure, later tonight," he chuckled with his brothers.

Stu smiled and pulled out his laptop to start his elimination list of suspects.

Jace cringed with a worried brow and viewed Tom. "You're joking, right, Tom?" Each brother darted their narrowed eyeballs and their wicked smirks to each other. Jace looked around at the smirks from the brothers. "That's a joke, right, Stu? Frank? Austin?" He parted his lips with fear.
Thursday July 8th

9:19 a.m.

City of Miami

Miami Dade Courthouse setting

Court Trial Day Six

Hot temperatures with isolated thunder storms

Tom turned the wall corner inside the courthouse, shouting in fury. "Open the damn door, now, bailiff." He moved and tossed his wet umbrella on the floor, walking through a narrow aisle of empty space which had been provided by two lines of guards for his non-grand entrance to the court room, wiping the moisture drops off his new business suit and his new colorful bowtie.

Earlier, the Quartet limousine arrived before the nine o'clock hour and stopped at the rear of the court house in the down pour of a small thunder storm to find that the rear door was locked and armed with a set of court house guards that carried hand guns too.

The head court house guard had been given a set of verbal instructions from Judge Cutter for the Quartet to enter through the main lobby for the last day of the court session today.

Joe crammed the engine and slowly back up the limousine, stopping inside a mod of angry and wet protestors that stood in the rain and surrounded the court house building, the sidewalks, the lawn as the gang of protestors went back to the metro station which was three blocks away from the court house building.

Tom was very worried and impatient, grabbing an umbrella without his new briefcase and his brothers, leaping out the stationary limousine, moving directly to the entrance door of the building to see Katt inside the court room. However, Tom also discovered that the mod of angry and wet protestors was not kind and did not shuffle away for his grand entrance into the court room, so Tom elbowed and cussed his own pathway through the heated crowed and pouring down rain, and finally landed his wet new leather underneath the veranda. Then he had to elbow and cuss another new pathway to the lobby, where he saw the first QA guard, who held off a crowd of protestors in the lobby with the other guards too.

All the guards, which were intermingled with the QA guards, the court house guards, the federal prison guards, and the police officers, had formed a narrow aisle of empty space for the arriving court lawyers and the exposed jury members to enter and move down a clear pathway to the court room as the crowd of protestors shouted with cuss words, boo calls, and tossed small items of rotten fruit through the extended arms of the guard line at the people.

Tom moved to the QA guard first, quickly whispering to her stern face. "Thank you. You'll get a one hundred-thousand-dollar bonus, too, from me, babe."

She whispered with her stern face, looking at the rowdy crowd for danger. "Anytime, Tom..."

Tom moved down the aisle, hearing the cuss words and boo calls, skipping around the rotten fruit, sometimes ducking from an accurate pitch of rotten fruit that hit his new jacket sleeve or his new leather. He did not bother to stop and take names or cuss at the idiots, dashing down the aisle to the court room.

Tom stopped and stood in front of the court room door both wet from raindrops and rotten fruit juice and mad as hell, waving both his hands and his bangs at the mellow bailiff, who stood in front of the double doors like a real guard.

"Judge Cutter told me to wait until he arrives." The bailiff said with a smile and a nod to Tom.

"He enters from his royal chambers, not the front door. Open the damn door now." Tom brushed off the raindrops and the rotten juice from his jacket.

Seth moved and strolled, standing beside Tom, saying with a smile and a nod. "It is passed nine o'clock, sir. What is happening here, bailiff? When will the door open for session? Why are the set of courtroom doors shut and closed?"

Tom turned with a sneer to see that the new business suit of Seth contained a bit of raindrops and rotten juice fruit stains too while still wiping off the stains with his handkerchief and his stained hands.

The bailiff turned with a smile and a nod to see Seth. "Judge Cutter wants all the members of the court present before the doors are opened then all the people can enter the court gallery in a mannerly order like before."

"The sequestered jury!?" Seth said with a smile and a nod for his upcoming victory of the murderess trial, swapping at the rotten juice stain on his new suit.

The bailiff pointed to the far wall corner in the lobby, where the worried face of the jury hid between the numerous tan uniforms of the court house guards. "The jury stands over there surrounded by the court house guards for their privacy and protection, since this is a murder trial of 8,063 dead souls." smiling at Tom.

Tom said with a sour tone to the bailiff, pointing to the closed door. "Miss Kattrell is inside her box, now. I don't want her to be alone in the courtroom, now. So open the damn door, now."

Cutter moved and stood behind Tom and Seth, saying with a smile and a nod to the bailiff. "I know the present situation all. Please calm down all. Bailiff, is everyone present and accounted for here inside the overheated and overcrowded lobby entrance way?"

"Yes Your Honor." The bailiff nodded.

"Open the door, please." Cutter nodded.

The bailiff swung around and fumbled with the keys, and opened the door, entering and moving to the judge's bench first.

Cutter entered second.

Seth shoved Tom aside, storming to the animal cage, and stopped.

The cage was still covered in a light weight dark cloth.

Tom moved behind Seth, stopping inside the court gallery with his mouth dropped open, turning to the side wall.

Peter Mowran, Phil Green, Ethan Underhill, and Tiberius Clark sat in chairs in the first row behind the prosecution table and they did not wear an array of dark raindrops or colored juice stains on their clothing, either.

Tom sneered with fury as Tiberius Clark turned with a grin and a laugh to see Tom, giving a tiny wave with his tied hands for the victory win today.

Stu moved ahead and then shoved Tom in the ass toward the glass box, without a grunt or a word. He turned and sat down in the first row, behind the defense table continuing to wipe out each wet raindrop and every colorful rotten juice stain from his personal clothing too.

Tom veered with a smile and a nod to the glass box, where Kat sat with a smile and a wave in her chair inside her prison. He stopped and stood, presenting his two thumps up signal.

Katt copied his silly motion with a nod and a grin of happiness too.

The room filled with an array of stern faced FBI agents, Miami-Dade police officers, and the QA guards to ensure no curious guest or a nosy media reporter came through the doors for the final day of the murderess trial. The agents, officers, and guards blocked the door as the jury members marched in a straight line and assumed their assigned seat in the jury box.

Austin, Frank, and Jace entered the room, wearing a sour frown, wiping off the raindrops and colorful rotten juice stains from their personal clothing too. They turned and sat in their assigned seats behind the defense table.

The door closed.

The agents, officers, and the guards turned and moved, occupying the last rows of the court galley.

Cutter stepped up to his bench seat, turning and standing, and scanned the crowd room for any non-invited guest or a wandering mobile telephone. "Sit down. Everyone, sit down, please." He banged the gravel. "Please, everyone, sit and be quiet, before we commerce." He smiled. "Is there anyone here that should not be here, please stand and get out of my court room now?" He sat with a chuckle. "This is the last day of the murderess trail, I think." He looked down and shuffled the papers around his bench surface.

Tom back stepped with a smile from Katt, swinging around with a smirk to see Seth at the prosecution table, turned with a sour frown to see Cutter at the judge's bench, and stopped at the defense table. He smiled and held his two thumbs signal to his brothers and Jace.

Jace presented his two thumbs signal with a smile along with Frank and Stu to Tom.

Tom slid into his first chair post with a smirk as Austin did not show a thumbs-up signal and leaned over with a whisper to Tom's cheekbone. "Are you certain for a win today, Tom?"

Tom stared with a grin and a giggle at Cutter, whispering to Austin. "Dead certain of a win for Katt and me. My legal record will be spotless until the day that I die and leave here from..."

Cutter looked up with a stern face, banging his gravel on the bench surface. "Everyone is here that is supposed to here. We will begin the final day of the murderess trail. Good morning to all. And may I say to all good luck as well. Who is going to examine the animal, Mr. Hamilton?"

Seth slowly stood and looked with a smile and a nod to Katt, Tom and Cutter. "I do believe that the only singularly question to pose: is the animal dead or alive? If a dead kitten indeed does exits, then I have proven beyond any doubtful Thomas that the bio-chemical theory clearly represents the weapon that was used to murder all 8,063 victims which is her bare naked two hands and ten finger pads." He chuckled, wiggling his hands in the air for all eyeballs to see.

"And if Cutie Pie is alive!?" Cutter narrowed his eyelids at Seth.

Seth chuckled, dropping his arms with a smile and a nod to see Katt. "Then I will award the young cat to Katt as a sign of peace, honor, and respect. My biochemical theory will also prove that she is innocent of all the 8,063 murder charges, if in fact the animal is still breathing and alive."

"Very well, I agree. Thomas, do you agree with Seth's theorem?" Cutter turned with a stern face to see Tom.

"Yes." Tom slammed his back spine into the furniture, making the hard chair creak. The feline animal was alive and the human animal named Katt was innocent, thus she would finally go free from this mad-hatter circus arena.

Miss Kattrell had been cured of her weird-ass toxin death touch thanks to whore-man Austin with a fucking sex act with the babe underneath the ocean water. Katt and Austin were trapped when the road train jackknifed and tumbled down from the broken bridge railing and further down into the cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

Stu saved their asses like always with his mighty neurons and his trained QA guards.

And then Katt had been confirmed by Jace as two days pregnant with Austin's child.

Cutter turned with a stern face and tone to the jury box. "Jury men and women, this murder trial is very odd to me and probably to you. I will accept the outcome of Mr. Seth Hamilton's biochemical test, using Miss Kattleen Kattrell's hand touch on the kitten, yesterday. If the baby cat is alive, she is innocent of all murder counts which total 8,063." He turned with a stern face and waved his hand to Seth. "Remove the cloth."

Seth turned to the door, motioning with his hand.

The animal handler stood in front of the locked rear doors of the court room in his puke green outer space suit, moving forward through the court gallery, the court square, and stood by the large cage, whipping off the dark cloth from the cage.

No kitten appeared between the steel bars of the cage.

The animal handler squatted and moved to the cage door, rattling the metal with his gloved hands.

No kitten appeared.

"Well?" Seth yelled, standing safely behind his prosecution table.

"Well, what?" the animal handler words echoed in a deep baritone through the room from his plastic mouthpiece on his outer space helmet, searching the dark cage for the kitten.

"The damn cat, is it dead?" Seth leaned over the table surface, narrowing his eyelids at the darkness of the cage.

"Kitty, kitty..." the animal handler words echoed in baritone again, opening the cage door.

Some of the foot soles stomped on the old worn wooden floor to stand and peek at the kitten but saw only the rear puke green helmet of the animal handler.

Seth moved and stood in front of the prosecution table. "Is the kitten dead? What do you see, animal handler?" He said with a sneer, looking into the darkness of the cage.

Please, everyone, sit down for both safety and concern." Cutter leaned over the bench surface, seeing the top of the puke green outer space helmet too.

"Here, kitty, kitty," the animal handler reached with a gloved hand and arm inside the cage, feeling the kitten, slowly pulling it out for all eyeballs to view, and exhaled with a huff of worry.

"Holy fucking shit." Tom stood, flinging the chair against the wood railing, seeing a dead kitten on the floor, swinging his sour frown to see Katt.

Katt sat in her chair like a pretend electric chair inside the Tallahassee gas chamber, staring with a sad pout at the kitten, too.

Seth laughed and clapped, dancing around the court square.

Tom felt a killing rise of angry coming from his butthole with a violent desire to punch and bloody Seth's nose bridge for both fun and torture, exhaling with a huff of frustration, looking over his collar bone.

All eyeballs saw and understood that Cutie Pie was dead as the animal handler stood and placed the dead kitten on top of the wooden table in front of the judge's bench for exhibition under Seth's orders.

"Thank you. You're dismissed, sir." Cutter ordered, standing and staring down at the dead kitten too.

The animal handler moved and left the court room through the side door which would lead out to the dirty and smelly alleyway under the orders of Judge Cutter.

Tom moved and strolled to the kitten, halting at the table, exhaling with a huff of frustration, and petted the skull. "Soft. Warm. Dead. Shit." The kitten was not contaminated with the bilirubin toxins anymore, because its tiny liver had absorbed all of Katt's deadly poison.

Thus, the baby cat was plain dead and in heaven now.

Seth moved and stood in the middle of the court square, raising his arms in victory, dropping and pointing his arms to the side table with the kitten. "Distinguished ladies and gentlemen of the honorable jury box, you can see with your own eyes that Cutie Pie is dead. I have proven beyond any shadow or in this case any angel sighting doubt that she can kill with a single touch of a pinky pointed on her left hand. Therefore, Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell is the angel of death..."

The members of the prosecution team, Tiberius, Peter, Phil, and Ethan stood with a smile and a nod, clapping with the good news.

"Quiet. I will have both peace and quiet in my court room. Everyone, sit down and be quiet. This is my court room. Or I will fill my empty jail cells behind this wall." Cutter banged the gravel, sitting and wearing a stern face to the prosecution team.

Seth stood in the middle of the court square, looking at the jury with a smile and a nod. "I, Dr. Seth Alexander Hamilton, the third am the US district attorney of my home state of South Carolina and do announce with great pleasant and greater success that the prosecution rests, Your Honor and your honorable jury persons." Seth moved and sat at the first chair position of the prosecution table, wearing a smile and a nod, fist-bumping with the members of his prosecution team.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning with a stern face and a serious tone to see Katt. "Miss Kattrell, this judge and jury of the State of Florida and the United States of America find you guilt of the Crimes of Humanity for 8,063 dead souls."

Katt quietly sat in her chair behind the glass box, turning with a sad pout to see Tom and Austin, feeling nervous, sad, and scared about the court law ruling. And her tummy continued to burn with heart ache along with a heart ache of new troubles too.

Cutter softy tapped the gravel on the bench, saying with a sad frown to the court gallery. "The jury is dismissed. This trial had concluded. Everyone, go home."

The court house guards surrounded the jury box as each jury member stood and moved in single file, leaving through the side door and into the smelly alleyway.

They could be modded and interviewed by the public and the press in the rear of the court house building, since the front lawn was filled with protestors and visitors to see and hear the murderess trail of two centuries.

Austin sat in second chair at the defensive table viewing Katt, feeling numb.

Tom stood at the table and whispered for his eardrums only, "Seth tricked me." He believed in his heart, his soul, and his mind that this was some type of magical trick done to the poor baby animal. Tom should have seen this trick play coming as a devious and sleazy lawyer too.

If Katt had that medical operation as carefully planned out by Jace, then she would have been total cured, since Austin's fucking sex act didn't succeed.

Tom turned with a sad pout to see Katt, who calmly sat in her chair inside the glass box. He would appeal as soon as possible the shitty-ass guilty verdict all the way to the US grand jury, since he had lots of fucking money and lots of gawd damn time.

However, Katt was the one without time.

Tom would stall her death penalty foreverly, if need be, because they all violated tons of her civil rights. He would use and abuse the "ultimate issue of the criminal appellate law," since the US federal rule did not say what fell within or without the definition of an ultimate issue.

Tom once read that a court of law excluded a psychologist's verbal and written evidence based on the "ultimate issue of opinion," meaning that another option could have been properly reached by the trial jury. Since the words of the eye witnesses had served as a set of tiny judgments which created an outcome that all the witness testimonies were indirect and incomplete without a clear summation of a professional expert's view point.

Tom exhaled with a huff of frustration, turning and looking over his collar bone to the prosecution table that was celebrating with smiles, fist bumps, ass bumps, back slaps, and handshakes.

Everyone hated Katt. Everyone had a negative attitude toward Katt

Tom would use this against each and every one of Seth's eye witnesses, especially asshole Peter "Moran" Mowran, and he would plead with sweet tea and a southern accent like asswipe Seth that asshole Mowran was an insane expert eye witness against a sane and sweet Katt.

Tom would be able to reverse each and every eyewitness verbal and written testimony of shitty profession experts by using the Ultimate Issue Rule 704(b). And he could plead insanity, mental illness, self-defense, mistaken identity, or something more creative from his 190 IQ.

Sawyer had never ever lost a gawd damn legal law case with this fucking one being his first. If he lost it, then he would appeal it again and again until her execution day.

Her execution day would be soonest like tomorrow morning.

Katt was not the murderess that killed the 8,063 sick folks at all the Charity Hospital medical centers or the 1,492 elder senior citizens in the Boyer Nursing Home or the 165 country folks residing in Boyer, Florida homes, because Nell Nan Hartmann did that dirty deed.

Nell killed everyone, using a combination mixture of the poison deadly venom from a Deathstalker scorpion along with a handful of heated common table salt from the gawd damn dinner table. She rubbed, spread, and greased the scorpion yellow poison piss and white table salt on her bare naked yellow hand, disguising the colorful yellow mixture in her own un-naturally colored skin tone.

And Nell had fooled everyone but one.

Jace had figured out the mysterious medical mousy secret, too late.

Now, Nell was dead and not buried, since her cold hard shitty smelly body was stuffed underneath a glass coffin that lived and survived inside Jace's secret Quartet laboratory of Miami Springs.

Fuck that yellow bitch.

Tom wished that Jace could resuscitate the yellow colored dead bitch back to life. Then Tom would fuckingly shoot her between the two eyeballs for a death kill twice.

Tom turned with a sad pout to see Katt. She slowly stood, staring at the kitten and Tom with glistening moisture in her eyeballs of tears. Tom hated it when girls cried.

"Mouse." Tiberius stood and yelled, reaching and grabbing the gun from the hostler of the bailiff, lifting and firing at the glass box.

Katt saw the gun and dropped down to the floor, covering her skull. The single bullet shattered the glass with a pop and hit the rear of the wooden panel without harming Katt.

The shattered glass particles broke and dropped spilling down thousands of tiny glass shreds over the court room floor in musical soft tings which exposed and spread her deadly germs into the court gallery.

The sound of numerous thumps echoed around the room.

And then silence invaded the room.

Austin stood with his leathers apart, holding his Ghost with his two hands, after firing the razor blades into Tiberius.

The red blood of Tiberius squirted out his brain and his chest and over the chairs, the floor, and Seth.

Seth was standing behind the wooden railing, holding out his hand to Tiberius for winning the murderess case.

Ethan whipped out his gun and fired with a bang.

The bailiff moved, extending his arms to pull Seth toward him for protection.

Seth raised his arms for surrender to Tiberius as a single bullet hit his chest. Seth twirled and ricocheted off an advancing bloody Tiberius, and finally rested on his back spine over the prosecution table and covered in blood.

Tom covered his skull, squatting and landing underneath the table, jerking out his Ghost, and aimed at the air and the shifting leathers of the guards in the rear of the room. "Shit."

Tiberius fired more bullets as Ethan leaped in front of Austin, who was the intended death target. The bullets impaled in the chest of Ethan as he fell backwards on the floor with a dull thud.

Stu and Frank pulled out their Ghosts and pointed to Tiberius. Phil and the other guards jerked out their weapons and pointed to Tiberius also.

"Halt, Tiberius." Stu yelled.

"Don't, Tiberius." Frank shouted.

"Drop it, Tiberius." Austin hollered.

"Freeze, Tiberius." Phil screamed.

Katt slowly lifted her face from the floor of the glass box, and did not feel any wounds or see any blood from the flying bullet, and slowly stood, shuffling through the broken glass, moving to the dead kitten on the side table. She stopped and smiled at the kitten. "Awe, the poor kitten is asleep, not dead," she stroked its body with her sweaty hands.

The fur of the kitten became wet and matted. Then the kitten blinked her eyelids open and sat upright, yawning with a pink tongue, softly mewing for attention.

"She touched it." Cutter stood and gasped, dropping his mouth, and pointed down to the kitten.

The kitten scratched its ear and dropped it leg, mewing with attention of food again.

"How did it...?" Frank held his Ghost at Tiberius and turned with a puzzled brow to see the kitten.

"What's happening, here?" Stu held his Ghost at Tiberius, and turned with a confused brow to see the kitten too.

Tom moved and stood, replacing his Ghost into his jacket breast, pointing to Katt, saying with a stunned brow. "She!?"

Katt back stepped from the both kitten and Tom and swung to the prosecution table, moving and touching the bloody chest of Seth with her sweaty palms.

Seth blinked his eyelids open and flapped his arms, sliding sideways on the table, sitting up with heavy breathes.

"God Almighty." Stu held his Ghost on Tiberius and turned with a confuse brow to see Seth, dropping his mouth.

"That should be Goddess Almighty, Stu." Austin chuckled, holding his Ghost on Tiberius.

Tiberius stumbled backward and hit the wall paint, falling down to the floor. The six razor blades formed a diagonal line from his heart up to his throat, his left cheekbone, his left eye socket, and two marks hit between his eyebrow and his hairline.

Seth moved and stood, wobbling side to side, leaning into Katt.

Stu dropped his arms, replacing his Ghost into his jacket pocket, moving and cuddling Seth to his shoulder, saying with a confused brow. "I got him. Thanks, Katt."

Katt smiled, swinging and skipping away from both Seth and Stu and into the open arms of Austin. Austin dropped his arms and replaced his Ghost into his jacket, hugging and kissing her forehead as they cuddled at the defense table.

"Alive, both Seth and Cutie Pie." Frank held his Ghost at the wall, staring with a puzzled brow at Seth and Stu and Cutie Pie.

"He lives. It lives. They live." Jace chuckled with the secret answer, jabbing a finger at Seth and Cutie Pie.

"She..." Cutter pointed with a puzzle brow to see Katt.

"Yes, she did." Austin hugged Katt, looking with a smirk to each stunned face. "May I present the angel of life and not the angel of death?"

Austin understood with the educated help of Jace's brilliant medical knowledge that Katt had healed his leg during his sissy weaken shocked-induced mental freaked out trauma as they were both trapped in the road train underneath the Atlantic Ocean. His minor leg wound was bleeding and hurting which was a true fact from the surgical instrument. Then Katt yanked out the instrument and touched his leg with both her sweaty and salty hands that contained the liver enzyme of bilirubin.

The bilirubin elements had sealed his leg wound and not her mysterious magical powers.

Jace educated Austin after the incident, the next day.

Bilirubin was an enzyme which was produced exclusively from the body part liver and the only organ that could re generate when injured.

Her sweat was a simple compound mixture of excreted bilirubin and body salt, creating a chemical binding sealant. When the sealant was directly applied to any type of open body wound, it would temporarily bind the blood cells and epidermis skin together, a chemical healing.

However, the closed body wound still required a proper clinical treatment from a medical physician as soon as possible.

Austin remembered in the road train. Katt said that she had cured all the sick patients on the oncology, hospice, and NICU nursing units at the various Charity Hospitals throughout South Florida, but she did not. These sick patients were in various stages of death or remission as determined by God Almighty and not Kattleen.

However, Mouse had spied and trailed behind Katt during their evening hospital visit, where Mouse also volunteered in her matching pink and white cute uniform too, abusing the patients all before midnight. Mouse had used a pinch of heated table salt and a squirt of fresh scorpion poison from the tormented Deathstalker creatures which were secretly housed and kept inside one of Tiberius' kitchen cabinets.

Mouse would rub the venom on the tip of her finger and, literally, touch her victim with the chemical mixture for death. And each and every sick patient immediately died with a little help of God Almighty.

Mouse had repeated her medical procedure on every citizen of Boyer, Florida in one night and did not kill Mrs. Henrietta Hartmann, whom Nell loved and cared. And ironically, Mouse had died of her own creative concoction while purposefully absorbing the scorpion poison into her epidermis skin which showed like the yellow sun.

All the newborn kittens provided by Frank and touched by Katt had possessed a heart murmur which was a serious biological defect for a newborn animal.

When the mega dose of Katt's sweat touched the kitten, then its fragile body could not expel the poisonous toxins. Therefore, each kitten absorbed the poison into its liver, creating a yellow crystallized organ and then mercifully died.

Cutter exhaled with a huff of frustration, lifting his palm, shaking his skull. "Okay. No more deaths, dying, or doing. I'm counting to three for all of you to lower your guns. One. Two. Three."

Frank dropped his arms, replacing his Ghost into his jacket pocket, moving and dropped down on both knees to see Ethan, ripping off the dress shirt, gasping with shock. "Shit."

"Save him." Austin released Katt, moving and squatting beside Frank and over Ethan, nodding and seeing the chest wound too.

Frank exhaled with a huff of frustration, probing the chest with his handkerchief. "Jeezus, I can't Austin. The bullets have punctured his heart severing an aortic. His blood spurts in the air like a water fountain from small two holes beneath the dress shirt and then runs over the floor..."

"Austin..." Ethan whispered and parted his lips, blinking his eyelids open and shut.

Austin folded down his waist and near Ethan's lips. "Yes, Ethan."

"Told..." Ethan exhaled his sour breath in the face of Austin.

"You told." Austin whispered with a sour frown and a nod.

"Seth." Ethan exhaled his sour breath in Austin's face.

Austin whispered with a stern face and a nod. "You gave Seth the medical data about Katt."

"I...wrong. You...right." Ethan whispered and wheezed out loud, exhaling his last breath and then died.

All the chins bowed in prayer for Ethan.

Austin stood and swung to Cutter, moving and hugging Katt, saying with a smile. "Kattleen has a special ability that she uses to heal people with both her hands..."

"No." Seth moved and jerked away from Stu's hug, shaking his arms and his skull, and yelled. "No. No. No..."

Tom chuckled and viewed Seth." She healed you, asshole. You were dead Seth, not breathing. Did ya see the devil, man?"

Seth swung and frowned to Tom. "Did I see God Almighty, son?"

Tom chuckled, shaking his bangs. "Hell no, asshole. You're too evil to visit God Almighty."

Seth swung and stomped to the rear doors. "I'll not take your insults, Sawyer."

"So take my advice, Seth." Tom laughed, catching the secret hand signals to Austin from Stu.

"Your advice!?" Seth swung and frowned to Tom.

"Plead insanity." Tom turned with a laugh and a nod to see Austin.

"Why?" Seth said with a puzzled brow to Tom.

Austin caught both the vocal remark from Tom and the secret hand signals from Stu, since the silence hands signals were used numerous times during all Quartet security missions for trouble and alerts.

Austin turned with a sour frown and a sneer to see Seth. "What did you do to the kitten, Seth?"

"I do..." Seth turned with a puzzled brow to see Tom and Austin, swinging around and waving his hands. "Move out of my way. Get out of my path. I require the services of a physician. I'm injured. Someone shot me."

Stu reached and grabbed the shoulders of Seth, jerking the average man to his chest and ripped open Seth's jacket. Stu tore the dress shirt open, revealing a set of body armor that protected Seth and his vital biological organs. Gage smirked. "Seth wears a protected body armor vest, in case of an assassin or your newest enemy, the Quartet," he laughed.

Seth wiggled inside Stu's arms and was not able to escape the court room.

"Fake blood, also!?" Frank stood and stared at Seth's dress shirt which was stained in red blood.

"Naw. It's real, belonging to Tiberius." Stu chuckled and held Seth from escaping the court room.

Austin sneered at Seth. "Let's try this, again. You poisoned the kitten. Didn't you, Seth?"

Seth turned with a worried brow to see each quartet assholes and Cutter, thinking of his response.

"Bailiff, give me your gun." Cutter extended his hand, saying with a sour frown and a sneer.

"Your Honor, Mr. Clark emptied it. Sorry, sir." The bailiff said with a frown, since he only carried three bullets in the six-chambered hand gun. Tiberius shot at the glass box, Austin, and Ethan with the three bullets.

Tom pivoted and smiled, removing and placing his Ghost on top of the wooden bench surface, saying with a wink and a giggle. "Here you go, Cutter. Use mine."

"Thank you kindly, Thomas. I appreciate your thoughtfulness." Cutter reached and lifted the weapon in the air.

Seth swallowed the bile back down his throat, looking around the windowless court room.

The FBI agents, the police officers and the QA guards guarded and blocked the rear doors of the court room.

"You're very welcome, Judge Cutter." Tom swung around with a smirk, crossing his arms to see Seth.

"Answer the damn question, Seth?" Badass Berrington growled to Seth, hugging on Katt.

"I want a lawyer." Seth stomped his foot with a nod and a furious brow, still hugging inside Stu's arms.

"Move away from the sleazy attorney, Stu. Ya get a gun or an explanation, Seth?" Stu released Seth and moved to the front of the jury box for safety. Cutter raised and aimed the weapon at Seth, sneering. "I might miss the heart but wound something else. That means you'll be alive but in unbearable pain for the next few days, Seth." He laughed with the others.

Seth turned with a worried brow to see dead Tiberius with a hole in his fucking head, and dead Ethan with a bullet in his fucking heart.

The bailiff was babying his injured arm that was being treated by the world renowned medical asshole physician Jace.

Stu pulled out and aimed his Ghost at the eardrum on Seth. Frank pulled out and aimed his Ghost at the left eyeball of Seth.

All the local law enforcement officers and the QA guards pulled out and aimed their weapons at all the other body parts of Seth.

Austin and Katt hugged and smiled at each other like a pair of fucking love birdies. And gawd damn bastard Tom leaned against the bench without his Ghost, smirking like a sleazy lawyer.

"One. Two..." Cutter smirked.

Seth raised his hands with fear. "Gawd, don't shoot. I was losing the case with a fifty-fifty chance that she would kill the animal. Gawd, I fed the kitten a pill..."

Cutter frowned. "Pill!?"

Jace looked up with a smile and a nod to see Cutter. "Seth means a delayed released poison capsule similar to how aspirin works inside a person's biological system. The capsule sat inside the belly, where the stomach acids broke down the ingredients of the chemicals. The chemicals scattered the compounds throughout the body into the nervous, digestive, and cardio systems. Right, Seth? In a small helpless kitten, the poison pill would have taken between fifteen to thirty minutes to break down and absorb into the kitten's tiny blood stream. The kitten went into shock from the toxin about ten minutes after Seth locked Cutie Pie inside her animal carrier." He moved and stopped in front of the side table, reaching and grabbing the kitten, and smelled the breath of the kitten, looking up to see Cutter. "I am hypnotizing here. Katt simply performed a CPR medical procedure with the accumulated body sweat from her hands, imitating a tongue lick like a mama cat. Thus, Katt had revived the kitten from a deep sleep, not a deep death." He chuckled and cuddled the kitten. "But I could be wrong. I'm a people physician, not an animal veterinarian."

Tom raised his arms, exhaling with a huff of fury. "Ya fucking bastard Seth," he swung to Cutter, extending his shooting hand. "Gimme my gun back, Cutter. I'm going to shoot the motherfucker, myself."

"Sorry, Thomas. You gave me the gun and the privilege." Cutter laughed and pointed the Ghost at Seth.

Seth waved both hands and his arms, saying with a worried brow. "Gawd. Don't shoot. Please. Don't shoot."

Stu snarled, aiming his Ghost at the eardrum on Seth. "Son of a bitch wants to live..."

"... in prison for the rest of his life, ya mean." Frank sneered, still aiming his Ghost at the eyeball of Seth.

Seth dropped his arms, saying with a smirk and a nod to Cutter. "You can't prove anything. I didn't kill either a stupid animal or a slick human being."

"Arrogant to the end." Austin exhaled with a huff of frustration, shaking his skull, hugging on Katt.

Cutter growled. "You have obstructed justice in my courtroom, harassed the nice citizens of Miami, abused the court system, and finally ya pissed me off, Hamilton," he viewed the Ghost, drawing it to his face. "Thomas."

"Sherman?" Tom smirked to Seth.

"Does this gun cock?" Cutter frowned at the slick deadly hardware.

"No, Sherman. Just aim and shoot it like a water gun." Tom smiled.

Cutter nodded and aimed the Ghost at the chest of Seth. "Thank you, Thomas. Decide Hamilton? God or me?"

"Gawd. No. No. You. You. I mean you. You. I decide you." Seth exhaled with a huff of frustration, waving his hands with a nod and a silly grin.

"Good choice. Open the damn doors." Cutter placed the Ghost down as Tom swung and grabbed his weapon, replacing into his jacket pocket with a laugh.

The doors opened.

The emergency medical personnel entered and shuffled around the wounded and the dead people.

Cutter stood, pointing with his gravel, yelling. "Take the bailiff to the Charity Downtown Hospital. Underhill and Clark to the Miami-Dade city morgue and that asshole to the Miami-Dade jail house," and he banged the gravel on the bench surface. "Everyone else get out of my court room. This case is finished. Dismissed." Cutter moved and left the court room through the side door without fanfare.

Austin smiled and hugged Katt, kissing her cheekbone.

Jace moved and pulled Katt from Austin, saying with a smile and a nod to Austin. "We're going to the hospital. I'll examine her personally there."

Tom said with a puzzled brow, grabbing at Jace's arm, shaking his bangs. Jace turned and placed the kitten into the hands on Tom. Tom accepted and patted the kitten with a confused brow. "Don't get it, Jace. How did she do that with the kitten? How did the pill work on the kitten?"

"I'll explain, later." Jace swung and shuffled Katt to the lobby.

Tom grabbed and missed Jace's arm, yelling. "Explain now, Jace? You figured it out. How'da ya figure it out, man? When did ya figure it out, man? Why'da ya not tattle to me, man?"

"Yes, I did. Later, Thomas." Jace swung around to rear doors and smiled to Katt, saying with a smile and a nod. "I bet your tummy still hurts." Katt nodded in silence. Jace cuddled her from the crowd of the protestors, saying. "I have a reason for that burning sensation. I'll explain in the ambulance. Okay!?" Tom moved and blocked with a sour frown Jace and Katt, petting the kitten. Jace smiled. "Later, I promise Tom." Jace and Katt moved and followed the line of emergency personnel out the court room and through the lobby to one of the ambulances.

Tom swung around with a smile and a nod to see Austin, carrying the kitten, offering the kitten to Austin, since man-whore Austin was happy about the good outcome and would not attack Tom purposefully or physically. "This is one for the history books, brothers. We saved the princess, slain the villain, tamed the fire breathing dragon, and saved the planet from evil. We're heroes."

Frank and Stu joined the huddle of the brothers as Austin gave the kitten to Stu with a sour frown, wiping off his dirty jacket.

"Hell, fire, and brimstone not heroes, the Quartet," Stu accepted the kitten, petting it with love.

"The Band of Brothers together..." Austin smiled and sung in his baritone trombone.

"Through hell and heaven..." Stu smiled and sung in his bass drum.

"No man can touch us..." Frank smiled and sung in his trumpet tenor.

"All for one..." Tom smiled and sung in his tenor saxophone.

"And one for all..." The Quartet sung in bass, baritone, and tenor and then laughed their asses off.
Friday July 9th

6:06 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Mr & Mrs Stuart Thant Gage III

Man cave setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Stu, Jace, Tom, and Frank were lounging after the successful court performance, yesterday. They sat, chatted and sipped on bottles of beer inside the man cave of Stu, toasting and celebrating the victory in legal law for the freedom and release of their innocent client Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell.

Stu turned with a frown to Sawyer. "Stop touching my beast, Tom."

Tom slammed the tiny ping-pong ball with the racket in another empty space of the creepy dinosaur baby mammoth skeleton. "Gawd, it's..."

"Dead," Jace chuckled.

Tom lowered the racket and sipped the beer, viewing the elephant. "Naw, it's them bone and...and..."

"Leave Dumbo alone," Stu ordered. Sawyer tossed another ping-pong ball through exposed ribs of the mammoth skeleton with a giggle and a nod.

Frank smiled. "Don't insult, Tom. He's only an idiot. He can't help it, much."

"Dumbo is the baby dino, Frank." Jace chuckled.

"O. I am most mistaken. Sorry about that, Thomas. Or do I apology to Stu for Tom's behavior? I can't recall." Frank sipped the beer.

Tom stood and slammed the ping-pong ball into another empty space between the bones of the skeleton as it rocked back and forth. "Fuck you..."

Stu leaped and grabbed the racket and extra balls, shoving Sawyer down to the leather chair, jabbing a finger to the nose bridge on Tom, "Sit down. Be quiet, Thomas." Tom grabbed his beer as Stu turned away. Sawyer stuck out his tongue, wiggling at Big Man.

"I saw that." Stu sat down in the chair with a frown. Tom shifted closer to Jace for protection.

"Jace, has she left the hospital?" Frank chuckled and viewed Jace.

Jace nodded, "On her way back home to Ruby Beach."

"Excellent. Kattleen deserves an exit from Miami forever." Frank sipped the beer.

"Congratulations, Tom, great victory for everyone." Jace nodded.

Tom grinned. "More thanks to Katt than I. She proved her innocent by saving that kitten from Seth."

"Seth is the newest inmate of Miami Correctional Institute. I'm happy to report." Stu lifted his beer bottle. "Here. Here." The glasses did not clank, because the men were too far away from each other in separate chairs.

"Cheers." Tom missed his mouth when the beer sloshed on his shirt.

"Don't spill beer on the rug, Tom." Stu frowned and viewed Tom.

"Sorry. It slipped." Tom wiped his shirt when the beer sloshed down to the tile.

Stu said with a nod and a smile, "Another victory for Quartet Assholes."

"I don't like that nickname, Stu." Tom frowned.

"I do. It does us proud." Stu sipped and viewed Jace. "Okay, Jace! Explain the mystery of Katt's super powers!"

Jace shook a skull. "No mystery but medical scientific fact mission, I figured it out this morning before I witnessed the miracle of the undead," chuckling.

"She does have super powers, Jace. The kitten wasn't asleep, right, Frank?" Tom remembered, seeing a fake dead kitten that pretended to be a sleeping live kitten, shaking his bangs from the permanently embedded horror image from the court room scene, this morning.

"No! Katt doesn't possess supernatural powers, Tom." Jace shook his skull.

"Hardly, Tom!" Frank sipped the beer.

"It is really super powers to me." Tom nodded.

"Only to a true hard core sci-fi nut." Stu frowned.

"Didn't ya think they were super powers too, Stu?" Tom nodded and viewed Stu.

"No." Stu slurped the beer.

Tom sneered. "Of course, ya did, man. I saw your perplexed look. Shock. Surprise. Stunned. Geez. You were white like me, a white man, Stu. Gage was a white man when that kitten mewed in soft soprano," chuckling.

Stu looked downed and viewed the rug. "You're most mistaken, Thomas."

Tom laughed. "That's Franklin's favored line this afternoon, too. You were white and black like a fucking zebra. And Frank was brown and white like a fucking cow. I was glowing in an amber of pretty awesome light."

"Ignore Tom's babbling. Tell us the mystery, Jace?" Frank frowned.

Tom said with a nod and a smile. "You're lying to me, preacher-man Stuart? To Frank? To Almighty God?"

Frank frowned. "Shut up Tom."

"No, I tell the truth, always." Stu grinned.

Frank frowned and viewed Gage. "Quiet, Stu. Jace, please begin your explanation, again."

"The solution is a salt water mixture." Jace smiled.

"Salt and water?" Frank nodded.

"Mixture is the key word, Frank." Jace nodded.

"Saltwater as in marine life." Stu said with a nod and a smile.

Jace nodded. "And reefs, too."

"How are reefs and marine life involved in Katt's miracle thing?" Frank asked.

Jace said with a nod and a smile. "Authentic sea water is a good starting point. Saltwater is an ionic composition which means that its dissolved components exist in water as hydrated or dissociated ions. Add sodium chloride..."

"Sodium chloride solution in water," said Stu.

"No, Stu." Jace grinned. "But very close, you have distinct hydrated sodium ions and distinct hydrated chloride ions and add magnesium sulfate."

"Ions of sodium, magnesium, chloride, and sulfate." Frank said with a nod and a smile.

"Got it." Tom did not really give a shit but it sounded good with a grin and a nod.

"When dried, it's a mixture, not a set of the pure elements within a compound." Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"Don't fuckingly get it." Tom sipped.

"I do believe that a further explanation is really needed here, Jace." Frank frowned.

"Add..." said Jace.

"Quit adding damn stuff. Get to the point, Jace. I need to go." Tom viewed his wrist watch.

Jace frowned. "Hold your horses, son!"

"Leave, Tom!" Stu pointed to the archway.

"No! I wanna here this shit before I leave, then I can gossip about to Jane on the boring airplane trip." Tom nodded with a grin.

"Add calcium chloride..." said Jace.

"More distinct ions with chloride, got it? What's the fuck is next, Jace?" Tom nodded.

"A mixture of distinct ions is added to the distilled water. This would naturalize the seawater." Jace nodded.

Tom shook the bangs. "She's fucking sea water."

"No, Tom!" Jace shook his skull.

"Spit it out, Jace! I got twenty damn minutes to jet." Tom viewed his designer wrist watch.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Stu turned and grinned at Sawyer, since Tom was acting as an asshole, true to form.

"New Zealand." Tom frowned and viewed Stu.

"Alone." Stu chuckled.

Tom frowned. "With my beautiful and smart and loving wife, ya fucking asswipe."

"I thought you wanted a vacation." Stu chuckled, sipping the beer.

"Me and my wife, stupid dumb shit. Us. We. My girl and me," Tom frowned with a nod.

"Enough, pups!" Frank frowned.

Jace smiled. "Duplicating seawater is not a matter of adding fixed constituents. There are several pathways available and each has its own set of advantages and disadvantages. This further complicated with a solid mix of hygroscopic and reactive elements."

"What do these big words mean to me, Jace? Nothing!" Tom viewed his designer wrist watch.

"These easily interact in the mixture forming insoluble components." Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"You said that she was sea water, Jace." Tom frowned and viewed Jace.

"No. You said that. She's made up of synthetic salt mix." Jace smiled.

"What the fuck, Jace?" Tom frowned.

Frank said with a nod and a smile. "Explain that confusing conclusion, Jace, because I'm really lost..."

"...in outer space." Tom chuckled.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank frowned.

Jace exhaled. "Salt is a mineral composed of sodium..."

"Don't start, Tom!" Frank turned and viewed Sawyer. Tom giggled.

"Quiet, Tom!" Stu said as Tom wiggled in the chair.

Jace nodded with a smile. "Sodium chloride is essential for animal life but toxic to land plants. That's a very important point to remember, Frank."

Stu read the laptop. "Salt is the oldest food seasoning in the world and has been used as a preservative for millennia. The salt comes from the surface of Xiechi Lake near Yuncheng in Shanxi, China, since the year of 6,000 BC and is one of the oldest verifiable saltwork sites."

"Thanks, Stu!" Jace nodded.

"Shut up, Stu! The point, Jace?" Frank frowned.

"Two forms exist, unrefined in the form of sea salt and refined in the form of table salt." Jace nodded.

"She's table salt." Tom grinned.

"No, Tom." Frank frowned.

Jace said. "Chloride and sodium ions are necessary for survival of all known living creatures, including humans. The salt regulates water content..."

"Fluid balance of the body." Frank said with a nod and a smile.

Jace said. "Over consumption increases the blood along with the high blood pressure."

"She didn't have high blood pressure, Jace." Frank frowned.

"That's correct, Frank." Jace nodded.

"Neither, did the victims?" Frank said with a nod and a smile.

"That's correct also, Frank." Jace nodded. "Unrefined salt is healthier than refined salt. It tastes bitter and is used in bathing additives and cosmetics and..."

"...has healing and therapeutic effects," said with a nod and a smile Frank.

Jace said. "Sea salt is composed of..."

"Is this really VIP important?" Tom frowned, sipping his beer.

"Yes, Tom." Frank nodded.

"Sea salt is composed of chloride at fifty-five percent, sodium at thirty-one percent, sulfate at eight percent, and magnesium at four percent. Calcium and potassium are both one percent along with the lesser numbers of bicarbonate, bromide, borate, strontium, and such." Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"Chloride, sodium, magnesium, calcium you mentioned, before." Frank nodded.

"Noticed? Did you, Frank?" Jace nodded.

"Yes." Frank frowned and viewed Tom.

"The super power reason, Jace?" Tom frowned.

Jace said with a nod and a smile. "Refined salt is eaten by humans and is also used in pulp paper production, dyes in fabrics, and making soaps. The manufacturing process is the oldest chemical industry in the world. The salt is obtained by evaporating the water by sunlight."

"Heated." Frank nodded.

"Frank, got it right." Stu grinned.

"Rock salts or dry deposits are mined by adding water which dissolves the salt, allowing a compound to surface which is purified by re-crystallization." Jace said with a nod and a smile.

"Of course." Frank nodded.

"Re-crystallization is treated with chemicals." Jace smiled. "As a food additive, sodium ferrocyanide is used to act as an anti-caking agent."

"Caking baking. My maid does that and very well, I might add." Tom laughed.

"No, Tom. Anti-caking, I understand, Jace." Frank nodded.

"What'da ya not understand, Mangrove?" Tom smiled and viewed Frank.

"The word anti-caking is similar to free-flowing stuff inside the body, Tom." Frank frowned.

"It helps break up the clumps of compound or salt." Jace nodded.

"Got it!" Tom finished the beer and burped. Stu chuckled.

"By the way, the particle density was 6.392 grams per centimeter which I couldn't explain until now." Jace smiled to Frank. "One of the paid and hired researchers figured out that treasure out for me."

"Wow." Frank grinned.

"Which is 17.4 grams of salt per day compared to the average of 5.8." Jace nodded.

"Whoa, three times more." Frank grinned.

"That was Katt's bilirubin increase, three times." Jace nodded.

"Really!" Frank nodded with a smile.

"A twenty-million-dollar richer doctor." Stu frowned, since the Quartet funds were used to pay the three scientists twenty million dollars apiece for a medical puzzle.

Frank nodded with a smile. "All worth it, every penny for Kattleen."

"Where's Austin?" Stu scanned the room.

"Austin?" Jace scanned the room.

"Stop with the roll call, finish." Tom viewed his wrist watch.

"He's with Katt in Ruby Beach." Frank grinned with a nod.

"Look man, finish. I gotta go." Tom raised his hands.

Stu pointed to the archway. "Bathroom's down the hall. Ya know where, Tom?"

Jace said with a nod and a smile. "The clump re-evaporates the salt into a pure compound. Some agents are tricalcium phosphate, fatty acid salts, magnesium oxide, silicon dioxide, sodium aluminosilicate, and calcium aluminosilicate."

"What?" Tom frowned.

"The basic minerals of sodium, calcium, and aluminum are all found in the human body, naturally. When human salt is mixed with water, it dissolves into a compound which is purified by the anti-caking agents, primarily sulfur from the human liver along with calcium, aluminum, and other minerals, thus creating an unrefined new type of salt."

"What?" Tom frowned.

Jace said with a nod and a smile. "His sweat glands allowed the new unrefined salt to escape from her body when heated by sunlight or her interior body temperature or an external factor like a heated containment cell in the Miami Courthouse. And then she was ready and packed for distribution of salt by her hands."

"How about the yellow coloring of the liver?" Frank asked.

"Folic acid is prominent in a pregnant woman that made her salt a yellow tint or glow." Jace chuckled.

"She wasn't pregnant. Kattleen is a virgin." Frank frowned.

"Not, anymore." Tom winked and viewed Frank.

Frank frowned and viewed Tom. "You're missing the major point of the medical discussion, Tom."

"No. She's not a virgin, anymore." Tom grinned and slurped beer. "Right, Stu?" Stu viewed Frank. Frank viewed Jace.

Jace said with a nod and a smile. "Her body contained a set of high red blood cells plus higher levels of folic acid."

"I thought salt was colored white." Tom viewed the baby mammoth skeleton with a frown.

Frank said with a nod and a smile. "The natural state of salt is colored in pink, gray or white..."

"No yellow?" Tom frowned and viewed Frank.

"No yellow, Tom." Frank smiled and viewed Tom.

Tom shook his bangs. "Then I guessed right. She's sea salt."

Jace shook his skull. "No, Tom. She created a synthetic form of sea salt."

"I disagree. She created table salt." Tom said with a nod and a smile for shitting fun.

"Frank, what element am I missing from periodic table?" Jace turned and viewed Mangrove.

"Iodine," Stu answered more quickly than Frank, turning with a grin to see Sawyer. Tom frowned.

"Sea salt lacks iodine, an element essential for human health, hence iodized table salt." Jace nodded.

"Learned something new today, Tom," Stu viewed Tom. Tom frowned.

"Is she cured?" Frank viewed Jace. "Jace, is Kattleen cured?"

Jace smiled. "You saw her revive the kitten and Hamilton."

Tom sipped the beer. "I try to forget that unbelievable fucking event, every damn day."

Stu shook his baldness. "Not Hamilton, Jace. He ain't dead but only wounded from Tiberius' bullet and serving time in jail."

Frank said with a nod and a smile. "Salt is a primary electrolyte in the body."

Jace nodded. "Too little electrolytes within optimal bodily functions lead to muscle cramps, dizziness, and neurological problems. Too much electrolytes increase stroke and cardiovascular disease, asthma..."

"What did the 8,063 souls die of, Jace?" Stu asked.

Jace nodded. "The ingestion of table salt at one gram per kilogram of body weight is fatal, so eighteen times that amount in one single dosage setting in one second, stone cold death."

"Whoa." Tom grinned.

"He's finished. Are you going, Thomas?" Stu pointed with a sour frown to the door.

"Yeah! Bye, guys!" Tom stood upright and moved ahead with a smile, leaving out the room for his trip to paradise with his wife Jane.

Present day and place

Saturday July 10th

12:32 a.m.

Big Pine Key Island, Florida Keys

(156 miles, south, from Miami)

Warm temperatures with bright stars

The compact car slowed to a halt onto the sandy side of the highway. Then a pair of shadows exited from the car, moving and pulled out the scuba gear from an open trunk, donning a set of double air tanks on each collar bone.

He turned and toted the face mask and a pair of flippers to the edge of the water. "Sneak easy like under the water to the back around the patio. Then find my sis. Then she'll get us out of there."

"Ya mean we get her out of there," Mutt grinned with a nod, since they were the heroes tonight.

"Right, dude," Jon dressed in scuba gear then waddled into the ocean with the compressed air sucking down into his pair of healthy lungs. He led like he was taught as a kid during the life saving drills in his scuba diving classes when Mutt and he were fishing with his father in Biscayne Bay.

Josh swims passed the red and orange coral reefs, noting no school of colored fish around the quiet cove of the Atlantic Ocean.

A bluish-white object hit Mutt with its nose then opened and aimed a set of white fangs at the chest of Mutt as a pair of cold black eyes enjoyed the red blood, arching throughout water from its meal. The kicking legs and arms of Mutt flung in different directions, beating down on the cold hearted object.

Shark!

A second shark reared behind Jon, smelling the fresh blood puddle of Mutt, since Nessle had a set of hungry sharks, guarding the shallow lagoon around his sea castle.

Jon was too late to assist his childhood friend and next door neighbor Mutt, swimming with the flippers and dog pedaled with a heart attack stroke to the sandy beach, flapping the pair of flippers hardy. He glanced backwards over a shoulder.

Both the sharks played tug-of-war with deliciously prey of Mutt, flinging chucks of bloody meat and parts of white bones between a set of white fangs. Then the sharks elegantly turned away from the body parts, swimming back into the dark cove, an underground tunnel to hide as a pair of sea guards for protection or entrapment of the next meal.
Sunday July 11th

1:01 p.m.

Island of Key Biscayne

(eight miles, northwest, from Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Wanda Wasper

Living room setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Each police officer wore a pair of sunglasses, a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored walking shorts, and a pair of boat shoes, slowly marching from a shared non-marked police department assigned sedan, dangling a police badge from the neck.

They moved over the white bricked colored driveway, surveying the trees, the bay, the street, the house, and the sky with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan, stopping on the level entrance porch with a stern face to police officer. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade homicide police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion without makeup.

The uniform police officer of Key Biscayne police department stood in front of the open archway with a stern face, "Take the laptop and enter your comments, detectives. Photographs were finished but the crime scene has not been disturbed." He extended the computer to Loree.

Loree accepted and cuddled the laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a stern face, scanning the room. "Traffic was murder getting here."

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, moving with Loree into the living room.

The exterior house was colored in a set of solid white slabs of concrete. Each viewing window was tinted in a dark color of light brown, without an exterior awning to block out the hot sunshine on the island of Key Biscayne. There were three planted royal palms trees that were located on the side of the structure. The entire front and side yard plots was made of a set of white colored slabs of concrete too, covering each square inch of the sand without a peek of green grass.

In the rear of the house, the patio view showed the bluish waters of Biscayne Bay with an assortment of sailing and speed boats inside the waters, having some good time fun on the second weekend of hot sizzling July in Miami.

Loree halted and handed the laptop to his partner Hardy. Hardy stopped and accepted the laptop, moving and stopped in front of an empty dining room table, placing the laptop over the hard surface. She opened the lid and pressed the button, searching for the files of the dead girl.

Loree moved to the wall of windows and stopped with a smile and a chuckle. "Good thing, the murder didn't occur on the Fourth of July, last weekend."

"A murder did occur on the Fourth of July, last weekend. We saw the dead girl on Monday morning." Hardy found the police report, reading the file in silence.

"I meant on Key Biscayne. Travel would have been murder to reach the dead victim over the busy concrete bridge to the island. Key Biscayne is not a real key that is part of the Key West islands. It is a barrier island that is composed of sand that came from the erosion of the Appalachian Mountains that carried the sand down the coastline by rivers and then was moved along the shoreline from the north by a set of coastal water currents. Key Biscayne is not hard bedrock on the surface but layers and layers of sandstone shells going down to the depth of one hundred feet or more. In contrast, the sandy beaches of Florida are finely pulverized seashells of sand. A team of geologists believed that the island emerged around the year 2000 BC, after the sea level stopped rising from the great flood like it was told inside the Bible. The sand built up to form a new barrier island off the coast of south Florida." Loree turned with a smile and moved toward the staircase, climbing up the steps and turned, moving and stood on the third floor with a shout. "This house is beautiful. There's a third floor terrace that overlooks the bay waters of Key Biscayne. There's nothing on the terrace floor but a set of three naked patio lounge chairs. Did she sunbath nude on her terrace? Is that against the law, nude sunbathing in Florida?"

"The floor is trashed and littered with sand and paper cups. Did she have a party or something last night?" Hardy exhaled with a puff of frustration, scanning the room and then the laptop. "She is named Wanda Wasper. She is single and never married."

Loree turned with a smile and moved in and out of each upstairs room. "The bedrooms are upstairs. I don't see any disturbing events inside here like strewed clothing for a fight. The beds are made. The walls are nicely decorated too. The bathrooms are cleaned and smell like lavender perfume. Do you wear lavender perfume on your body, too, Hardy?" He turned with a laugh and a grin and moved down the staircase. "I don't see any broken windows or a busted rear patio door."

Hardy stood on the ground level in front of the dining room table and read the police file out loud from the laptop with a stern face. "She worked as a catamaran sale man or sale woman here on the island. Her parents live here on the island too."

He landed on the ground floor with a smile and a nod, scanning the walls, the floor, the windows, the furniture, and the ceiling. "Yeah, there's a catamaran parked and slapping the wall of the sea dock too. Key Rats, the kids, the parents, and the people of Key Biscayne are all called Key Rats. The first settlers of Key Biscayne were Tequestas. Shells, bones, and artifacts were found on the island after the 1992 Hurricane Andrew torn through the thick vegetation and into the sandstone. The village of indigenous inhabitants lived here 2,000 years ago. Juan Ponce de Leon charted Key Biscayne on his first mission to the New World in the year 1513 and called it Santa Marta and claimed the island for the Spanish Crown. When he found a fresh water spring, he called waters Biscayne Bay which is a word from the Tequesta language too."

Hardy read out loud from the laptop. "She has a degree in marketing from Miami-Dade University. She owns this house and her sports car and a ton of designer clothing."

He turned and moved, stopping and stood in front of the dead girl with a stern face. "She is clearly posed and blue colored. She holds a tiny red, white, and blue cloth flag in her cupped hand, the flag of America."

She laughed. "She's late in celebrating the Fourth of July that was last weekend. And her birthday was last week too. She turned thirty years old. What a shame, she was so young to die like this?"

He stared at the dead girl with a huff of annoyance. "Who found her?"

"The maid service found the door unlocked, entered and turned and screamed, prompting all the neighbors to enter the house."

He exhaled. "Well, that's just great. She was apparently murdered last night on July the tenth, Saturday evening. There will be tons and tons of foreign finger prints in here. We will have to interview each and every neighbor friend or foe, trying to figure out the killer. I guess we will be almost living on the water for the rest of the week."

She said. "Until another dead girl shows up inside her own house. There has been a dead girl who has been posed to kill with an object each week, since June ninth."

"A pattern has formed here, I do believe. I don't understand why the killer places a physical object into a cupped hand. And I don't understand why we can't finger a finger print on the dead girl or the physical object either."

She looked up with a stern face to scan the room too. "I would say that the killer used a pair of rubber gloves. And I don't see any broken windows or a busted down door down on the ground level from the killer's attack. So the killer was a friend or a very nice foe, again."

He said. "The forensics team had combed through each house, not finding a pair of rubber gloves or the death instrument or drug or device that killed each girl. This is a total medical mystery mess to me. Since, each girl died from some internal blood poisoning, not a bash on the bone skull. And the body is perfectly preserved like a figure on top of a wedding cake."

Hardy typed into the laptop and closed the lid, back stepping from the table and turned, moving to the dead girl and stood with a stern face beside Loree. "I entered our observations into the laptop. I believe we are done here. She is another pretty girl with a head of pixie style brown hair, a pair of green eyeballs, and a tone of dark skin. Also, there is not one clue that is common with any of the dead girls. It seems like the killer is randomly selecting a girl and then killing her for some weird purpose."

"Kills me, too," Loree laughed. "I enjoy reading police detective stories. Inside the storyline, the victim poses with an empty wine glass, not an American flag. Do you find it weird that she is holding a flag and not an empty glass of wine? The flag has no meaning to me."

She laughed. "This is Miami, a hot sizzling place of weird-o."

He exhaled. "Like the other objects on each dead girl, it has no meaning to me but it clearly displays the career path of each victim which is really weird-o too, making it hard to pinpoint who done it."

She back stepped from the dead girl and turned, moving to the open archway and cuddled the laptop. "I have entered all our verbal and visual observations into the computer. Let's go and waddle inside the warm water of Biscayne Bay before we head back to headquarters for the rest of the afternoon." She stopped and stood inside the archway, squirting her eyelashes in the bright sunshine and handed the laptop to the guarding police officer with a nod and a stern face. "Here, we finished our examination and loaded the laptop with our observations. Send it to headquarters in downtown Birmingham for further analysis, please." Hardy moved forward and stopped, standing at the car door of the police car, waiting on Loree, pulling out her personal mobile telephone and checked the text messages.

Loree moved and pulled up beside the police officer inside the archway with a stern face and a nod. "Send in the forensic team to comb and dust the place for finger prints."

"Yes, sir," the police officer motioned with a hand and a nod to the team members. A new team wore a set of PPE in the color of green, entering the room, scattering around the furniture.

Loree moved from the archway and the house and stopped, standing at the driver's door.

Two car doors opened and closed at different times.

They entered the unmarked dark colored police car in silence and drove away from the crime scene.
Monday July 12th

2:31 a.m.

Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV master bedroom setting

New moon and warm temperatures with bright stars

He awoke to a still night while the nightly dreams started again. Something was going to happen to him, to her or to someone else.

His new dream girl was beautiful, tall, tone of golden tinted skin, and head of golden colored hair, flicking within the brain cells at a glossy photography of an ancient Greek goddess from an English literature textbook at the Miami-Dade University as a beginning freshman.

He would meet her sooner or later, preferable sooner with a slight grin, flipping around, resting the stomach, falling into a deep slumber for the rest of the morning.

9:09 am

City of Coral Gables (five miles west of Coral Beach)

Quartet Associates headquarters

33rd floor business office

Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Austin stood inside the archway of his office. He did not want to work, either does Frank or Stu.

The city of Coral Gables was South Florida's most privileged business and rural community that was nicknamed "City Beautiful." The company entitled Quartet Associates was a located on top of a five acres' land which was directly on the infamous Miracle Mile. Miracle Mile was the main shopping district along a half-a-mile stretch of traffic driving and leather walking roadway, containing over hundred and fifty combined multinational financial corporations, elegant fashion shops, international eating restaurants, and pretty art galleries.

Quartet Associates (QA) comprised thirty-three floors of a preeminent address inside the heart of the city of Coral Gables within the US State of Florida. The tall structure offered 375,000 square feet of posh office suites, nice conference rooms, three libraries, and two audio-visual rooms along with two restaurants on the fourth floor, a basketball court, an indoor track and fitness center on the eighth floor. An empty and tan colored reception lobby for arriving and departing client of Quartet Associates was electronically guarded by three hi-tech security cameras plus three highly trained nice smiling QA guards.

The employees of QA enjoyed an in-service financial bank on the second floor, a garage of private individual parking spots in the rear of the building along with a free car wash facility, and a helicopter pad on the roof for an emergency which had never been used.

Both the QA employees and the administration executives also viewed an eyeful panoramic city landscape of Coral Gables, including the Ponce de Leon grassy people and dog park or the Biscayne Bay of blue colored salt water, depending on the private wall office at QA. The single tallest tower within the Gables displayed the finest imported marble, granite, brass, wood work, and stained glass windows, coming from the four corners of the world. An amusingly set of four pink-tinted granite water fountains that were located at each geographically street corner of the QA headquarters building shot out a plume of yellow colored water into the air as the water allowed Earth gravity to bring it back down into the clear and clean fountain pond. (Note: fresh drinking water was a hot premium in heated South Florida.)

The medium sized conference room which was labeled number one beautifully displayed the yellow colored water, looking like a pint of human piss that went up into the air and then down fell down into the fountain pond at the traffic intersection of Red Road and Pineapple Street. Stu continued to stare with a smile through the clean glass window at the merchandise shoppers by foot, the commuters by cars, and the kids by sneakers as the kids hopped down the vanilla tinted sidewalk to the local Coral Gables Elementary School which was two blocks from headquarter QA tower.

QA was a nicknamed given by the employees and some clients of the privately own business company. Stu preferred the earned nicknamed Quartet Assholes instead, enjoying the brief sightseeing tour while waiting for rest of the fourths to arrive for at the morning breakfast meeting each morning.

The metro city of Miami was a hot spot paradise for a billionaire, who lived in one of the most beautiful places on the planet Earth. The weather was warm all year around for swimming, skiing, fishing, boating, sporting, shopping, jogging, walking, and playing. Only money could buy this kind of paradise, Stu had lots and lots of money. He didn't remember not having any money, thanking an inheritance from an extremely wealthy biological father, a very wealthy grandfather, and a slightly wealthy great grandfather. "The Fathers of Miami" were his directly ancestry as the family nickname was talked about on the city streets of South Florida.

The males (Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom) nicknamed themselves, the "Band of Brothers," but they were not biological siblings at all. They were "blood brothers" like their biological fathers before them.

In the year 1838, the four biological great-grandfathers of Austin, Stu, Frank, and tom formed an eternity "bond" as a set of young teens among the wild farmlands and the wilder forests of northern Florida near a spouting town named Tallahassee, the current state capital of Florida.

Mangrove, the original had moved as a teenager from his beloved native country of Spain along with his favorite stallion. A big wooden ship carried him and his family over the rough seas along with the barn animals, the furniture pieces, a set of medical supplies, and a few pieces of farm equipment, arriving at the new land of America. The father of Mangrove served and worked as an animal veterinary and an occasion as a human physician for the small settlement of farm pioneers.

Gage, the original was unwillingly shipped across the warm waters of the Atlantic Ocean as a slave from his home land of Africa and then worked on a large cotton farm plantation. He successfully escaped into the wild and free sandy golden lands of Florida, bartering his new skills as a farmer.

Sawyer, the original was truly born and reared from a stock of German royalty, looking to rule his own destiny in the New World rather than the Fatherland. He left his biological family members and the family fortune behind his ass, becoming the small township's mayor.

Berrington, the second dangerously traveled the rough open salty seas with the other poor peasants from the foreign country of Great Britain, seeking freedom from the British king's prosecution. He expanded a blacksmith trade within the new America frontier for money and food.

Then the four teen strangers became the four blood brothers, forming the first Quartet in the year 1838.

Twenty-four years ago

City of Coral Gables

Coral Gables Prep Academy

Elementary school playground

Warm temperatures and bright sunlight

At the age of six years old, the four non-biological friends became the set of four blood brothers, embracing the fourth generation of the Quartet.

"We four stick together come hell or heaven forever until eternity," six years old Stuart Thant Gage, the third proudly announced with a grin and a snigger. He loved to watch all the gory and bloody details of warfare programming on the numerous television and movie shows. The biological grandfather of Gage was a formal military officer in USA military, who had been deployed from city of Miami in 1940s and fought in World War Two. Stu was very proud of his Grandfather Gage and couldn't help, catching the wild fever of a military life. However, the day dream of Stuart was not shared by his pop Stuart Thant Gage, Junior.

Stuart Thant was pure logic, discipline, and devotion. He was loyal as a golden retriever to his masters, consisting of his brothers, his families, his friends, his employees, his guests, and his beautifully talented wife Gracie Jean. Stu did not ever meet a stranger.

Once he was your friend, you were his for life.

The brilliant man possessed an array of multiple post-graduate degrees, including a doctoral degree in engineering, a master's of computer science, a bachelor's of mathematics, and was certified as a local law enforcement police officer just for the hell of it.

Stu willingly provided his brotherhood, his friendship, and his protection for many years to the Quartet. He stood tall at six feet and six inches of dark brown African American sinew and muscle with a shaved head, a pair of two intense brown eyeballs, and a set of two sunken cheekbones on a trusted warrior rounded face. He possessed a set of stern fatherly manners of an "old" soul and was the tallest member of the Band of Brothers. Dr. Gage was simply known as "Big Man."

Thus, Big Man maintained peace, harmony, and tranquility with people at home, at work, and on Earth.

"All for one and one for all," six years old Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third quoted from his favorite novel The Three Musketeers. Tom was a full blown science fiction nut as he continued to read, quote and annoy the shit out of your brain cells with his latest and greatest science fiction novel. His non-working life was filled with an array of imaginary space battles, x-ray guns, and time warped flying ships which were set in various locations from a gray stone castle to cold and black outer space. Sawyer lived inside his pretend science fiction world as he was oblivious to the current social, economic, global, and financial events that occurred daily in the city of Miami, the US State of Florida, the country of America, and the entire planet Earth.

Stu had always felt that Tom's 180 IQ was to blame for his weird-ass personality. A loud mouth foul jokester all the time, except when Tom was required to preside over a legal law case, then a brilliant legal genius smooth talking and fast thinking attorney emerged upon the surface.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third had never ever lost any legal law case for Quartet Associates since passing the Florida legal law bar. The man was furious, fastidious, and feverous with legal and law issues. His brain cells could quote to you any federal ruling, since the year 1829 as it was recorded within the United States of America legal territory boundaries. The guy was known as the "Law Man."

"The Band of four Brothers may no man force us apart, least ye die," six years old Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third brilliantly cited from one of his literature novels. Mangrove was the romantic Renaissance man within the brotherly troupe. His beating heart ruled his mind. And his sharp mind absorbed accounting money principles and medicine treatment knowledge. Franklin was CPA (certified public accountant) and a certified medical physician, who had specialized in dermatology. He graduated from the Miami-Dade Medical School, three years later. Dr. Mangrove preferred chess to war and books to guns with a side interest of both gemology and art collecting. People called him, "Money Man."

"Brothers in life and the afterlife," six years old Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth happily cheered among his non-biological brothers. After the personalized motto, Stu withdrew the pen knife, nicking his finger. He squeezed the blood and then mixed his blood with each brother, sealing the "blood pact" ritual again to bind their brotherhood forever.

Present day and place

9:11 a.m.

Quartet Associates headquarter building

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Now, the last generation of the Quartet owned and operated a private billion-dollar enterprise that required immediate attention, since the Quartet had been neglecting the company business, finances and clients.

Two months ago, the Quartet Assholes had involuntarily become a quartet of red, white, and blue American crime fighters for justice, avenging the murder of his ten-year-old grandson, who were murdered inside his private hospital room at Charity Hospital.

The results were not pleasant but necessary.

Some of the fourths were more heavily involved in the criminal cases than others. Thus, Tom was on vacation with his wife Janey within the foreign country of New Zealand.

Austin exhaled, staring at a skyline stack of colored paper that lounged on top of the usually clean office desk that represented legal contracts, missed telephone calls, returned messages, monetary invoices, problems, issues, and too many Quartet matters. He moved and stopped, standing over the office chair. A folded newspaper sat comfortably inside his throne chair which was usually reserved for his royal ass, not a piece of pressed wood.

The black lettered headlines were highlighted in flares of bright neon orange strikes, referencing numerous bank robberies inside the metro city of Miami since the month of May. The newspaper was left by his brother, the caring and compassion Renaissance Man Dr. Franklin Mangrove.

Austin mentally noted the same brother, who was snooping around in other person's personal affairs that were not related to the social interest of the business entity Quartet Associates.

He reached down and snatched up the folded newspaper with a sneer, scanning the highlighted article as his acute eyesight caught a flash of a body inside the two-way reflection mirror of his private office. The short kid with a head of long brown curly hair quietly sat on the edge of the green and white colored designer sofa inside the QA reception lobby, staring at pair of eyeballs down at the pink slightly more yellow tile floor.

The office door opened.

His secretary Madeline moved and stopped, standing with a whisper into the eardrum on Austin and turned, returning to her work desk.

The kid called his purpose 'top secret,' which could only be revealed with Badass Berrington. The earned nickname for Austin implied some real and nasty private official business. Part of being the boss required being silent and observant at times as Austin mused, studying the kid. The kid held a chin down, continuing to burn holes into the tile.

Stu and Frank were in a set of business meetings as part of their daily ritual of maintaining a billion-dollar business.

Austin was watchdog, watching for trouble.

The young kid appeared around twenty something years old and was not the one in trouble. He was not nervous, jumpy, excited, shy, or angry but traumatized by something or someone. His secret message was evidence that carried a big secret.

Austin turned and stared down at the bank robbery article with a sneer and a solo fleeing mental thought, planning to pass two verbal harsh words to Frank, later. Since the Quartet was not going to be involved in this case with the joint partnership of police and FBI, spending both the precious time and unlimited funds of the Quartet while hunting down some wanna-a-be bank robbers. The police profile had pegged them as a couple of young druggies with nothing better to do but re-supply their stash. Austin thought that the young bank robbers were truly the stool pigeons. There was a true genius mastermind behind the successful bank heists. No one wanted to look for someone slick and smart. So the bank robberies had continued over a two-month period without a warning and with billions of bags of money stolen from the local banks throughout the surrounding city streets of Miami.

Quartet Associates was interested to a slight degree, since some of the banking establishments contained their billions of dollars. But the FDIC would compensate any loss. However, a financial loss had a way of affecting the bank, the government and eventually the customer like Austin.

Those two harsh words would echo Frank's debate in a private meeting inside Austin's office, after Berrington talked to this kid, a new client of the Quartet.

Austin was not going to be a royal prince in this instance, since the kid needed a friend rather than an authority figure. He turned and strolled, flinging open the office door, strutting to the nose profile on the kid as the kid continued to stare down at the floor. Austin said with a stern face and a serious tone. "Hello."

The kid continued to stare down with a stern face at the floor as his words rambled inside a confused mind. His face was pinched. His head was low. His heart was broken. His spirit was busted. He looked up with a stern face and a serious tone to see Austin, "Mr. Berrington."

Austin extended a warm handshake with a smirk, "Call me, Austin. Why didn't we talk down here?" He turned and motioned to the lounge room for a prospect client.

The kid slowly stood from the edge of the sofa on a pair of shaky legs as Austin reached and grabbed the bicep on the kid with a worried brow. The kid wobbled side to side with a nod and a stern face, "Yeah, thanks, man, I mean, sir. I'm not crazy. I have a secret."

"I would like to hear your secret. For the record, you and I are not the crazy people in the world. Please come with me into the lounged room." Austin gently shoved the young adult toward the hallway, where the three offices of his brothers resided along with three conference rooms, and a lounge room.

"Yeah..." the young adult exhaled, moving forward with Austin.

QA client lounge room setting

The special room was square shaped with two sets of nice pastel colored living room furniture and a large screen television, in case of boredom or tension. The numerous pieces of living room furniture could accommodate an entire family who sometimes came with the biological children that were to be protected as well. Quartet Associates was an equal opportunity client base, serving a set of mature and elderly adults, young adults, teenagers, children, infants, and sometimes the array of family pets, but no snakes.

Austin turned away from the hallway and shuffled into an empty room, leading the unnamed young adult to one of the long sofas. The young adult followed Austin and spun around, sitting down on the edge of the sofa while staring down at the floor, holding inside his head some type of important information to share with Austin. Berrington back stepped and parked an ass on top of the low table which was across from the long sofa, reaching down and opened a side door. The low table was both an eating surface and a hidden built-in tiny refrigerator for such an occasion, when one of the fourths had to calm or control a paid QA client.

The specially designed living room setting could be swiftly bolted from the outside by pressing an emergency button which was known only to the Quartet for such an occasion as an irate fully paid QA client.

Quartet Associates was an international successful security business that was paid to protect your ass, not your assets first. Secondly, sometimes the paid QA client caused more trouble than the collected monetary fee was worth from the Quartet's time and attention and point of view. And Austin couldn't kill off each QA clientele when he was pissed off and carried around his Ghost. Thus, the creation of a specially designed room to hold both an angry Austin and a stupid QA foolish client until all the tensions died or the body died from a bare handed strangulation.

Just kidding!

That deadly incident happened one time. It was not Austin's fault. The QA client was suicidal or something.

Austin reached inside and drew off two cold glass bottles of soda from tiny refrigerator, lifting them into a face, screwing off the two lids and handed one to the hair roots on the young adult with a stern face and a serious tone, "Here ya go!" He exhaled with a huff of patience, giving the young adult some time to adjust for a serious talk, holding the cold bottle. However, time was always short. Austin leaned back. "Tell me everything ya want me to hear!"

The unnamed young adult looked up with a stern face, grabbing the cold bottle of soda, leaning back and gulped down half the bottle, wiping a mouth with the back of his hand. "I know that you're looking for the gang of bank robbers. I know him. His name's Ned Nessle. He's got my sister. She and he are located at Big Pine Key, the ocean island inside a big castle, big like house, gigantic. Show ya! Found out when my sister married him then she didn't want to see me, anymore. Man, that was wrong. I knew something was wrong. Jetta, my sis and I are close, really close. We talked with one of his fired people at his office business. Her name was Cortina. She told me lots and lots of stuff. She told me that Nessle's business firm was searched by the FBI. So Ned closed the business firm down. Cortina was mad and upset. She lost her job. She, also, told Ned was at all the business banks during the day for each and every bank robbery. She had figured that out herself, when she looked on his calendar appointment schedule inside his office, during the last two weeks of her employment.

"Then some of the Nessle's employees just disappeared, without quitting or cursing or resigning. Cortina got scared, strange shit. Ya know?" Austin nodded with a stern face, understanding the information was too detailed to be faked.

The young adult frowned. "Cortina was looking for a new job, when she got canned from his business firm. Ned walked in and then fired everyone on the spot, in one day, that morning without an explanation. Cortina got lots of money, not a check, but a pile of cash money. I traced and found her and asked her for a social date. She liked to party. All whores do. She wasn't worried about looking for a job, but she was going to move out of Miami to Ft. Lauderdale. She told me about Ned's gigantic beach house in the Keys on Big Pine Key. She told me about my sister too. She met her one time and described her right. That's how I knew she was married, but my sister didn't tell me. I tried to call Ned. No answer. One time, told me that she wasn't there. Then I went back looking for Cortina to get more information. She disappeared, man, gone. The apartment manager told me that she broke the lease and moved out the next day. She got scared. So I am more worried for my sister," the adult stopped talking and lifted, gulping down the rest of the cold bottle of soda, wiping a mouth with the back of his hand. "My friend Mutt..." He stopped talking and sobbed, swallowing the tears of sadness, exhaling with fear and worry. "Mutt was a longtime friend. He wanted me to go to the cops. But, there wasn't any evidence, ya know, only words. Decided to find my sister. Parked on the side of the bay. Big Pine Key is between the lake and the bay then we donned wet suits. I'm an experienced scuba-diver. My friend's an instruction at Junior-college. We..." he stopped and sobbed with a set of wet hot tears.

Austin nodded with a stern face. "Continue, son."

"Ned has sharks," the young adult looked down with a worried brow at the floor and up to see Austin with fright.

Austin frowned, "Sharks?"

The young adult nodded, "A shark guards the cove and the reefs. Some type of underground tunnel, there was fishing netting around the ocean side of the sea castle that was really weird to see. I guess that Ned keeps it as a pet and he didn't feed it. I have been living in the sea water all my entire life. Sharks don't attack for fun, only food. No normal school of fishes or aquatic life was living within the cove either. I noticed that too late..." He stopped talking and sobbed with his sadness. "The cove is blue but empty, light but dangerous. The set up looks man-made to me, sir, Austin."

"You are very perceptive, son. What's your name?" Austin nodded with a stern face.

"The shark got Mutt..." the young adult sobbed with a set of tears, wiping off a face with the back of his hand, "Jon, my name's Jon, sir," he stared down with a sad face at the floor.

Austin reached and patted the collar bone of Jon with a stern face and a gently tone, "I'm very sorry about your friend, Jon."

"Thanks, man." Jon whispered.

Austin said with a serious tone. "Jon, you have been very informative with your knowledge and personal experience with the bank heists. I'm going to personally find Mr. Ned Nessle and retrieve your sister back for you."

Jon swiftly stood with a nod and a stern face to see the hair roots on Austin. "I wanna come. She's my sister. Her name's Jetta. I can..."

Austin slowly stood, reaching and holding onto the collar bone of Jon and squeezed the bone to calm the young male with a stern face and a serious tone. "Jon, this is a very, very dangerous mission. You found out first hand with your friend Mutt. Please allow me to interfere and intervene into Mr. Nessle's life," smirking, "I have at my disposal the personnel, the equipment, and the resources to perform the task, efficiently and easily." He nodded with a slight grin.

Jon looked down with a worried brow to see the floor and up to see Austin. "Scared, I was scared, man. I enjoy the water, live here all my life," he shook a set of shoulder length curls. "If I can't come, will you get my sister, sir?"

Austin nodded with a smile, squeezing the collar bone of the young male. "Yes, Jon, I will rescue your sister Jetta. It will be my personally honor and appreciation for your shared information. I promise."

Jon grinned with a nod. "Good enough for me, sir. Cortina told me more. Ned has a girl with him. Tall, pretty, southern accent, she is called a nickname, the goddess. Cortina didn't like her, but the goddess accompanied Ned to all every single bank robbery job too. The goddess was quiet and young like college age like me. Cortina didn't understand the goddess' work job at the business firm either, but the goddess had something to do with the bank alarm."

"Bank alarm?" Austin frowned.

Jon nodded with a frown, "Somehow? Don't really know. Somehow, she can make the bank alarm system malfunction right before the bank heist occurred with some weird-ass science magic. Cortina explained that she had picked up bits and pieces from her co-workers. Ned and the goddess entered the targeted bank, sitting inside chairs and waited. Then the bank robbers entered during the loss of the power electricity inside the bank and inside the bank alarm. Cortina guessed that the goddess was so kind of genius computer nerd that could the electronics of the alarm and the lights inside the bank building. The targeted bank experienced electricity lost first. Then the bank robbers emerged with guns, robbing the vaults of all the money bags second. Those money bags were for the armed truck pick up that day at each targeted bank."

"Did Cortina, your contact relay this information to you, as well, Jon?"

Jon nodded with a stern face, "Yeah, Cortina had figured out the bank robbery routine, since Ned had scheduled all the targeted and robbed banks in a row like an idiot. Cortina was scared thou. That's why she wanted to leave Miami."

Austin nodded with a stern face. "She had a right to be. She uncovered the dangerous plans of Ned by observation."

Jon nodded with a stern face. "She was smart, too smart. Ned got her like the others like my sister."

Austin squeezed the collar bone of Jon with a nod and a stern face. "Jon, please follow my orders, very carefully. You are to stay home. Do not contact the police. Do not help me. I will deal with Ned Nessle, myself. Do you require anything during your confinement at home for at least of couple of days? I will bring Jetta to you at your home."

"Quartet Assholes," Jon smiled.

Austin grinned. "That's correct. We are indeed. We promise to retrieve your sister and bring her back safe and sound. Do you have a contact telephone number to share with me, Jon?" He handed a pad of paper to Jon.

Jon scribbled down his mobile telephone number and handed back to Austin with a slight grin. "Here, my cell. Thanks, sir...Austin." Jon wobbled with both exhaustion and excited by fear.

Austin turned and guided Jon from the room and back to closed doors of the elevator. Berrington wasn't going to offer a ride home or a plate of hot food. Jon needed to be alone, pondering the mental and the emotional thoughts about his dead friend Mutt and his trapped sister Jetta.

They both stopped in front of the closed doors.

Austin leaned over and pushed the button.

The doors opened immediately.

Austin hoped beyond hope that he was not too late to save Jetta and find the goddess who enjoyed robbing all the banks within Miami.

Jon nodded with a worried brow to Austin, turning and entered the open carriage.

The elevator door closed.

Austin pivoted with a stern face and a serious tone to Madeline. "Find the rest of the Quartet and sent into my office, pronto." He turned and entered his office, working on a criminal crime fighter plan.

"Yes sir." Madeline reached and touched the telephone receiver.

9:42 a.m.

Office setting of Austin

Austin reached and picked up the first colored piece of paper from the high column, swiftly reading the information that required a future group meeting.

The door opened.

Stu entered the throne room of Austin with a smile, moving and slid into his usual spot between the side table and the second oversized sitting chair, "Austin." He held a hot cup of green tea for the special impromptu meeting of three of the Quartet.

The hand caught the door, slamming it open. "Where's Tom?" Frank entered with a smile and a nod and followed behind the leathers of Stu, moving and parked an ass inside his usual spot which was left of Stu and stared at the nose profile on Austin.

"Vacation," Austin lifted and examined the second colored piece of paper, requiring a telephone call.

"How much longer?" Frank smiled at Austin.

Stu smiled at Austin, "Returning Friday afternoon."

Frank turned and frowned at Stu. "How do you know that information, Stuart? Tom has not called or yelled or texted or emailed or..."

Stu lifted and wiggled his mobile telephone near a smile with a chuckle, "Tracking him."

"Spying on him is the proper term here. Why are you spying on Thomas?" Frank frowned.

"Worried," Austin lifted and stared at the third piece of paper, requiring a face to face meeting.

"You also?" Frank turned and frowned at Austin.

Austin sat inside the throne chair with three piles of tall papers, blocking tall figure inside the executive desk. Frank smirked at the usual sight of work, since Austin did not work, he commanded. Austin did not believe in luxury items, only girls. He did not possess files, records, computers, calculators, pencils, erasers, cabinets, books, book shelves, or art works, only girls.

The private business office of Austin was located on the eastern end of Quartet Tower, overlooking a busy Miracle Mile from the 33rd floor skyline. The northern and southern directional business wall were all glass windows from the ceiling down to the floor without a set of draperies, curtains, materials, blinds, only a smooth wall of clean slick glass pane that brightened the room without lightning and heated the room during the warm mornings and hot afternoon.

However, Quartet Tower had a very good air conditioning system. And Quartet Associates was a multi-billion-dollar business also.

The western directional wall contained a single entrance door with a set of split two-side reflection mirrors which ran down one fourth of the wall for Austin to see all his foes and his friends. The northwestern corner of the wall held a white leather chaise lounge sofa tucked into the L-shaped wall corner, where Tom lounged. He rested with a pair of new leathers over the white leather fabric, reading piles of money magazines or science fiction magazines, carting the magazines from his office and slammed them down over a small side table, where a hot beverage of brown coffee beans with tons of pure cane sugar and sweet milk resided too.

The northeastern directional wall possessed on oversized white leather well-padded chair between a side table that held a beverage cup with a plate of delicious food items which was occupied by Frank for any type of the scheduled or impromptu business meeting with Austin.

The southeastern directional wall held a second oversized white colored leather well-padded sitting chair on the other side of the long side table that held a beverage cup with a plate of delicious food items which was occupied by Stu for a meeting with Austin and his brothers also.

Austin royally sat behind an oval six-foot executive light pine office desk without any attachment, such like a drawer, a cabin, a filing unit, a foot rest, a lamp, or a hidden compartment of treasure stashes. His chair was black colored leather without a set of side handles, contrasting with the elegantly white painted walls and the leather white furniture which distinguished him as the boss, the king, or the emperor of the Quartet.

"Tom needed to relax. I needed to relax more." Austin said in rare off-the-wall humor with a smirk, lifting and examined a fourth piece of paper, requiring an ass kick to the individual.

"We've concerned about his safety, especially, after the intense World Wide Web almost death murderess trial of two centuries," Stu nodded with a smile to Austin.

"World Wide Web is an "old" tech term, grandpa." Frank chuckled.

"Intense international public inhuman exhibition, how's that 'Mr. Smart asshole Physician'?" Stu frowned at Austin, trying hard to take Tom's sarcastic role while on vacation.

"Not even close to one of Tom's insults, but I'll assign you point zero fifth of a brownie chip, Stu." Frank chuckled.

Stu frowned. "Not even close to Tom? I've ruled over Tom, since he was two while beating his ass black and blue against...."

"Is Austin relaxed?" Frank turned with a grin to annoy Austin.

"Very much so," Austin reached and shifted two of the skyscraper stacks of paper to side of the door for an impromptu meeting that was going to thrill Frank's heart.

Stu smiled at Austin. "What's up, bro?"

"I found the bank robber." Austin grinned with a nod to Frank.

"Shit fire, you did not." Frank shook a skull.

"I did." Austin nodded.

"You didn't." Frank shook a skull.

"I did." Austin nodded with a grin.

"Enough with the pretend mind game, pups, and quit pretending to be Tom, Mangrove. Spit it out, Austin." Stu frowned at Austin.

"Ned Nessle." Austin grinned.

"Who?" Frank frowned.

Austin reached and grabbed, looking down with a grin to read his personal notes from his personal research with the help of the QA IT guru on the twelfth floor, but Austin was not going to tattle secret to IT expert Stu. "Ned Nessle, a lonely, indebt, broke banker, who lives at 191 Sanford Drive in Athens, Georgia. He quit his paying job by cursing out his bank supervisor on the telephone, leaving the next day, selling his used car to a used Miami dealership. He owns money for electricity, a mortgage payment, an internet invoice, some telephone bills, the water and sewer bills, and several credit card accounts, which are all outstanding and is about to land in collections."

Frank frowned, "He up and moved to sunny Florida to rob the good citizens of Miami..."

"...and steal our money," Stu extended a hand to Austin, "May I see that, Austin? Anything else? That profile doesn't fit the character of a bank robber except for his recent show performance of stealing our monies." Austin looked up with a grin, extending a hand with his personal notes to Gage.

"How did you find out, Austin?" Frank grinned then sipped on hot English tea.

"I received a surprise visit from a young male whose friend was killed indirectly by Mr. Ned Nessle. My number one hot hit list enemy." Austin sneered.

"Damn, figures." Frank shook a skull, sipping on the hot tea.

"Robber and murderer," Stu looked down with a stern face at the hand written report.

"Quite correct, Stu! Now, he is the Quartet's problem." Austin nodded with a grin.

Gage leaned over and handed the paper to Frank. "Quite correct, Austin," he turned with a nod and a stern face.

Frank accepted and stared at the handwritten notes of Austin, reading out loud. "Nessle is living in Big Pine Key while disguised as a fisherman that's both Key West and the US Navy military's jurisdiction, Austin."

Stu shook a skull with a sour frown. "They can't do shit. They're too busy napping illegal floaters and boaters and bagging the dirty drug runners on the high seas. We must assist them as a gang of good Americans."

Austin nodded with a smile. "I think we should go after the bastard's ass too as a gang of good Americans, too."

"I agree." Frank looked up with a grin and a nod to see Austin, wanting to stop the young bank robbers and aid the local Miami police department. The Quartet had helped on the first criminal crime as a gang of red, white, and blue crime fighters, too.

"I do also." Stu nodded with a smile, "Ya telling, Tom?"

"Stu is." Austin smiled.

"Beg pardon, Old Man." Stu parted his lips.

Stu jabbed a finger with a stern face to the Berrington. "You're boss, Austin. You tell Thomas, we have another murder case."

Frank frowned. "Initial reaction, I predict not very happy."

Stu said with a nod and a smile. "Tom's never happy, unless he's reading a science fiction magazine."

Frank frowned. "Tom'll not cooperate either. He doesn't like the danger and intrigue."

Stu nodded. "He loves danger and intrigue..."

"...only inside one of his science fiction novels," Frank chuckled with his brothers.

Stu shook a skull with a confused brow to see Austin. "Are you certain Sawyer is a member of the Quartet?"

Austin nodded. "Yes."

"Why, Stu?" Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Stu.

"Just talking out loud, that's all." Stu grinned and then sipped his warm tea.

"Once he hears his money is in danger." Frank understood the mind set of greedy Thomas, the baby brother of the Quartet.

Stu nodded with a grin. "Strike, beat, and kill a man's wife, children, or dog, but gawd damn don't mess with his money."

"Good angle," Frank nodded with a smile.

"Great angle," Stu smiled with a nod.

Austin nodded with a stern face. "More data, he has an accomplice. A girl named the goddess."

"What's a goddess?" Frank frowned.

Stu turned and winked to Berrington. "A girl, Austin just told you, Frank. Ain't ya listening, bro?"

"Stop doing that." Frank frowned.

"Doing what, Frank?" Stu turned and smiled at the nose profile on Frank for some shitty fun, since Tom was not here to abuse Mangrove, thus the job fell down to Gage.

"Being ironic, patronizing, sarcastic, that's Tom's job." Frank frowned.

"Well, Thomas ain't here, so I fill in as the backup comedy relief." Stu chuckled.

"Backup asshole, ya mean?" Frank chuckled.

"Stu?" Austin chuckled as Stu turned and sneered at Berrington with the nasty suggestion. Austin lifted both his palms with a grin. "No pun intended, Stu! I have some additional important information. Ned has one hostage, maybe more."

"The kid's friend?" Frank frowned.

"Sister," Austin nodded.

"Shit fire," Frank frowned.

Austin nodded with a stern face and a serious tone. "I promised this kid that I would bring his sister back home. I asked him not to get involved anymore. He has lost his childhood friend already. He doesn't need more grief."

"The kid's name," Stu grabbed a paper from Frank and a pen from the breast pocket.

Austin extended and handed a new notepad to Stu with a stern face. "Here, the name and address. Stu, place a guard on the boy. I don't any trouble from him."

"Not thinking, clearly." Frank nodded.

"Not thinking, at all." Austin nodded.

"Papa Berrington has spoken." Stu accepted and stared with a smile at the new piece of paper.

"Papa?" Austin frowned at the bald head of Stu.

"Old Man, you didn't get that nickname for nothing. You're wise. You're mature. You're careful." Stu looked up with a wink and grin to see Austin.

"Unlike, Law Man," Frank shook a skull with a chuckle and a grin.

"Don't start with Tom?" Stu frowned.

"Why not?" Frank frowned.

Stu frowned. "He's not here to defend himself, Frank."

"Tom gets into more trouble." Frank shook a skull with a sour frown.

"Tom's ego gets Tom into more trouble." Stu smiled.

"Genes." Frank nodded.

"What, Frank?" Stu frowned.

"It's Sawyer, Junior's DNA." Frank nodded with a sour frown.

"Yeah, the real troublemaker," Stu exhaled.

"I just said that, DNA." Frank gasped.

Stu nodded. "Like father, like son."

"We have another murder mystery case to solve," Frank turned and smiled to Austin.

"How, what, when, who do we start?" Stu turned and smiled to Austin also.

Austin said with a nod and a smile, "Call Jace."
Tuesday July 13th

8:08 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (five miles west of Coral Beach)

Quartet Associates headquarter building

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Tom had returned home to Coral Beach after three days of rest and relaxation inside the pleasant country of New Zealand.

However, his vacation plan was supposed to have been for three weeks, not three days. She missed the girls. He missed the boys.

The four brothers had been together since birth inside a Charity Hospital nursery ward and then never parted, except when each married groom attended a honeymoon with the married bride. On the third day from the hospital nursery and into the Quartet nursery room, the same group of nannies took turns, helping with to change diapers, feeding schedules, and bathing times with a set of four active energetic and rambunctious male sons.

Tom swiftly drove from his home at Coral Beach and pulled and parked into his designated parking spot underneath Quartet Tower. The building looked the same. Quiet. Patrolled. Secured. He tossed a hand to the smiling QA guard that was posted during the rush hour traffic. Since Quartet Tower possessed a nice and cool parking garage, where, sometimes, merchandise shoppers would try to park inside a shaded and free vehicle space.

Tom was happy to be return back home in Miami. Jane wasn't the only one who had missed her family members too.

He killed the engine, scooting out of the sports car with a smile and a new black colored leather briefcase, wearing a new business suit of charcoal black with a white dress shirt and a colorful baby blue and ruby red bow tie with a matching breast handkerchief. His wrists wore a set of red rubies cuff links, keeping the wristbands closed.

The door closed.

Tom turned and moved to the closed door of the private elevator that soared directly up toward the thirty-third floor of Quartet Tower as he stopped and slapped the button, scanning side to side like a trained QA guard also. The garage parking space was the same. Quiet. Patrolled. Secured.

The elevator doors opened

He entered and turned, sitting an ass upon a horizontal bench seating inside the private elevator with a smile, feeling happy about being back home in Miami. The classical music bombarded his eardrums that Frank selected the day before as the music was piped into the private office of Mangrove as well. Tom didn't like the classical music. He enjoyed listening to the tiny CD stereo behind his ass as a melody of rock and roll music played all day and into the late afternoon. His eyeballs were drawn to the walls of art work inside the private carriage. The art work like new also. "Yeah, Mangrove and his touchy feely girly emotions, he changed all the paintings on the walls, again. Damn, Frank has too much time to waste as a sorry ass accountant. He needs to come and work for me. I'll keep his butthole running around the city of Miami, doing my leg work," laughing.

The doors closed without any additional guests like his brothers. The carriage zoomed up with great speed.

The door opened.

Tom stood and moved forward with a smile and a nod, holding the new briefcase, turned and scanning an empty hallway. Quiet. He moved down the hallway toward his office, scanning the walls. The QA lobby was different. He nodded with a grin, "Frank's doing, the interior decorator for the Band of Brothers, he's got that feminine touch like a fucking girl." He stopped and stood in front of the closed door of his business office, cracked open the door, and entered the large room, surveying a clean well-oiled wooden desk which was empty of piles of papers. All the working papers had been filed like ordered by his good lawyers. Richard Richardson, the second-in-command had handled all Tom's legal work. Or he could deal with Badass Berrington. Tom laughed with a grin, returning from the country of New Zealand with Jane to Coral Beach, this morning and felt great, relaxed, cool, calm, steady, and stable.

Last month, Tom had worked both his ass and his neurons off on the 'worsest' murder case of two centuries. He used more brain cells than usual for this particular non-paying QA client, since Quartet Associates didn't receive a penny from the client. Usually, his legal cases were well research and well-rehearsed for a swift won inside the court gallery with any judge.

The paid maid service had cleaned and bluffed his imported wooden desk with a spit polished shine. He smiled with a nod, "It is good to be back home and inside my own office." He leaned over and flipped on the overhead lightning, gliding across the floor to the window curtains and reached up, opening the drapes. The bright Florida sun rays invaded the clean smelling room. The sunlight reflects off the pine wood floor shiny. He turned with a smile and a nod and scanned his private business office where he owned one-fourth of the business company Quartet Associates, "Home, sweet home."

He liked vacation trips, especially with his wife Jane for a little while. She missed the girls. He missed the guys. They both missed their families.

He moved across the floor through the archway and turned, strolling down more an empty hallway. This end of the hallway appeared different, too. New paint. New tile. New paintings. He whispered with a giggle, "Yeah, Frank, again, changing the fucking paint and art work." He turned and slid into first conference room.

Empty.

He back stepped and turned, sliding into the open archway of Frank's office.

Empty.

He back stepped and turned, scooting into the open archway of Stu's office.

Empty.

He stood inside the archway with a confused brow. His brothers must be at breakfast inside the downstairs cafeteria with the employees of Quartet Associates. Mangrove insisted that Austin socialize with the working class. Stu insisted that Austin interactive with the working guards also.

Tom enjoyed attending to hear all the latest and bestest gossip from the lips of each employee while eating three plates of good food also.

Tom heard a faint noise coming from the reception lobby, back stepping back with a smile into the hallway as the sound echoed from the closed office door of Austin. They were here and were going to be surprised to see him. He turned with a chuckle, strutting down an empty long hallway toward Austin's office and stopped, grabbing and touch the door.

The door opened.

Tom stood inside the archway with a set of pearly white teeth and an arm bowed, "I..."

"You're late." Stu turned and smiled to Tom.

"Huh?" Tom dropped an arm and his smile.

"Thomas?" Frank turned and smiled to his baby brother.

"About time, man." Stu chuckled.

"Huh?" Tom frowned.

"Been home for two hours, just now contacting us," Frank smiled and then sipped the warm tea.

"Some kind of bro, you are?" Stu chuckled.

"Huh?" Tom frowned.

Stu lifted and held the mobile telephone near a smile. "GPS has tracked you, bro."

"You, what?" Tom gasped with a frown and placed a fist on the belt, holding the briefcase with the other cupped hand.

Stu said with a nod and a smile. "Think, Tom! Radar, jet, pilot, limo, mansion..."

Tom nodded with a goofy grin to each brother, "Well, okay, I was trying to surprise you, guys." He waved a skull and one free hand with a silly grin.

"Can't?" Stu shook a bald skull with a grin.

"Ever," Frank smiled.

"Give up." Stu chuckled.

"What's up?" Tom stood in the archway with a grin. He missed the guys and missed the news in the little world of Miami. Jane would not allow Tom to bring his mobile telephone or his computer laptop or one of his science fiction novels.

"Lots of stuff," Jace lounged with a smirk and a nod inside the chaise on Tom, hiding inside the wall corner. Tom turned and scanned the crowded room, stopping and stared with a stern face at Austin, who portrayed a shitty face. Austin was about to do or wanted to do or had done something illegal and nasty.

Tom pointed with a confused brow to Jace. "Wait a minute! Why ain't Jace and Stu on the golf course? Why are you, guys huddled like the start of a football game for the championship?"

"Law Man." Stu smiled with a nod to Sawyer.

"Smartest brother in the band," Austin smiled with a nod to Tom.

"New beginnings," Frank grinned with a nod to Tom.

Tom waves a skull and a hand, "Not for me, I just can back from vacation. I only want to review any old legal cases and have lunch, then go home to my wife."

"Short day," Stu chuckled with a wink.

"Very, short day." Tom nodded with a chuckle.

"Have a seat, Tom. We have important business to discuss." Austin ordered with a stern face and a serious tone.

"No." Tom shook a skull and a hand inside the archway.

"Yes." Austin ordered with a stern face and a serious tone.

"No." Tom shook both a skull and a hand inside the archway.

"Sit." Austin growled.

Tom turned and entered the throne room, moving across the floor and sat, sharing the chaise lounge with Jace, lifting and held the briefcase on top of his kneecaps with a sour frown as he softly cursed at meanie Austin.

"What did you find out, Jace?" Frank turned and nodded with a smile to Jace.

Jace nodded to each brother. "She has..."

"Don't?" Tom swiftly stood and turned with a stern face, jabbing a finger over the hair roots on Jace.

Jace turned and nodded to Austin. "She has a..."

"Don't say it, Jace." Tom shook a skull and a free hand, rattling the new briefcase side to side. The briefcase was empty of any contexts but the car keys.

"A..." Jace smiled to Austin while purposefully ignoring Tom.

Tom pointed down to the floor with a sour frown. "If you fuckingly say she has a chemical imbalance, then I am going to shoot your entire foot off, Jace." He reached with a free hand grabbed his Ghost, whipping it out and pointed it up to the ceiling plaster. Jace turned and frowned at the chin on Tom. Stu quickly jumped from the chair and dashed across the floor, attacking the loaded gun, relieving the weapon from Tom's hand.

Then both bodies fell and dropped down onto the soft carpet.

"Shit." Tom shouted in fury, dancing underneath the big bones of Stu. "Get off..."

"Damn, calm down, asshole, before I silence you for the rest of the day." Stu leaned down with a grunt and a hiss into the eardrum on Tom. Austin scooted from the chair and moved from the desk, leaning down and grabbed the Ghost from the floor before Tom could reach with a long slender arm and a wet of spidery pale colored finger pads.

"Jace, say it," Frank turned from the two twisted bodies on Tom and Stu with a smile and a nod to see Jace. Stu had Sawyer under control, now

"Uh...," Jace stared down at the twisted bodies on Tom and Stu. The Quartet always brought fun, adventure, and danger into your life, one way or the Quartet way.

"Tom's subdued." Austin nodded with a smirk to Jace as one of his eyeballs watched the twisted and dancing pair over the clean carpet while Stu again controlled Tom's impromptu ass actions.

"She has a chemical imbalance." Jace rushed the words with a grin to Frank and Austin.

Austin grinned. Frank chuckled. Stu laughed into the eardrum on Sawyer, without moving off the body on Tom.

Tom kicked his legs and slapped an arm into the big bones of Stu with a yell and a sour frown, "Shit, get off, Stu. I'm going back to New Zealand for another vacation with my wife. Where's Jane? Fuck, get the fuck off of me, asshole." Stu tightened and cuddled Tom over the floor, grunting into the eardrum on Tom. Sawyer giggled with a grin. "O, I take it back. You like this position, Stu. You're a fucking fag like..."

Stu reached and shoved the rear skull of Sawyer back down into the thick soft carpet, without harming his baby brother and stood from Tom, straightening out his tailored made business suit with a growl. "Shut up, Tom." He turned and moved, sitting inside his assigned oversized chair inside the southeastern corner of the throne room of Austin.

"Stand up, Tom." Austin frowned. "We have a new case."

Tom struggled and sat back onto his kneecaps, slowing standing from the floor and held the briefcase in one hand, smoothly pressing out his new business suit and new bowtie around a throat with a sour frown and a matching tone. "We ain't a set of fucking private dicks, Austin. We're billionaires. We come and go as we please. I'm going back to New Zealand with my wife, tomorrow, today, or when I get the jet gassed. Stu call and get the jet gassed for my trip." He turned and frowned to Stu. Stu shook a bald skull, staring at Tom. Sawyer tossed an arm with a sour frown. "Forget you, asshole. I'll do it myself." Tom reached and pulls out his mobile telephone from a breast pocket with a free hand, turning with a sour frown and moved to the closed archway.

Frank stood and dashed, stopping and turned, blocking the closed doorway with a grin and a nod to Tom, "All for one."

"One for all, Tom," Stu said with a nod and a smile.

Tom stopped and pivoted with a sour frown and a sissy whine to Austin. "Holy fucking shit, Austin! No, not again! We just want through and finished this shitty thingy a few months ago. Jeezus! I'm still resting and recuperating."

Austin nodded with a grin to Tom. "This is different, Tom. The girl needs protection, not a lawyer."

Tom jabbed a finger with a smile to Austin. "That is a very good point, my brother. I'm not needed. I can leave and go on vacation. Bye, ya'll." He swung with a sneer to see Mangrove, waving a hand at Frank's face, trying to retreat from his brothers, hopping the next gassed private QA jet back to the country of New Zealand to complete the rest of his planned vacation with his wife Jane.

"Tom, you're a fourth. We need you. We want you." Austin said with a nod and a smile to the back spine on Sawyer.

Tom turned with a confused brow and pivoted to see Austin. "Want me! What the fuck does that mean, Austin? You want me? You need me? Fuck this!"

Frank said with a nod and a smile. "It means...."

Tom shook his bangs and the mobile telephone in the air, "Oh no! Something else has happened. Holy fucking shit, well tell! Spill the fucking beans."

Frank said with a nod and a smile. "We don't know where she is."

Stu nodded with a smile. "Actually, we don't know who she is."

Tom turned and frowned to Stu, "Who, as in a name, an address, a telephone number?"

"He's smart." Stu grinned with a nod to Tom.

"Smart ass," Frank grinned into the rear skull on Tom, still blocking the closed door of the throne room.

"Shut up, Frank." Tom turned and frowned to Mangrove.

"The smartest of the band of brothers." Austin nodded with a smile to the back spine on Tom.

"Nice try, asshole. She's lost." Tom turned and frowned to Stu.

"No." Stu shook a bald skull with a grin.

"She's kidnapped." Tom frowned.

"No."

"She's got amnesia, then." Tom frowned.

"No."

Tom looked up with a puzzled brow to see the ceiling and Stu. "What the hell's left?"

"She's unknown." Frank grinned with a nod at the rear skull on Tom, still blocking the closed door of the throne room from an escaping Sawyer.

"Unknown, as in, you do not know her?" Tom frowned.

"Correct." Stu nodded with a grin, participating in Frank's silly mental mind game with Tom.

Tom shook his bangs and the mobile telephone. "Man, this is fuckingly confusion. So, how do we know this girl even exists?"

"Fuckingly is not a proper word, Tom." Frank smiled.

"She has a nickname." Stu nodded with a smile to Tom.

He sneered at Stu. "Don't say Katt, uh!" Tom reached and grabbed the breast pocket of the missing Ghost.

"Wrong, Tom." Frank reached and shoves the chest on Tom from the closed archway back toward the chaise lounged with Jace. Tom moved backward with a hiss to side of the chaise lounge, standing without sitting next to Jace with a sour frown.

"She's called the goddess." Stu turned and nodded to each face.

Tom tossed an arm with a sour frown. "I give. What does a fucking goddess look like?"

"Don't? Know?" Stu shrugged a shoulder.

"Gawd, another gawd damn mysterious medical mystery to solve." Tom turned and exhaled to Austin.

"He's smart." Stu nodded with a grin to Austin.

"Smart ass." Frank moved across the carpet and turned, sitting inside his assigned oversized chair in the northwestern wall corner of the throne room, staring with a grin at Tom.

"Shut up, Frank." Tom turned and frowned to Frank and Stu. "Any clues, Stu?"

"No." Stu smiled.

"Any hints?" Tom frowned.

"No."

"Any bodies?" Tom frowned.

"Yes." Stu nodded, "Plenty of bodies."

"Well, shit." Tom shook his bangs and the mobile telephone, staring at Austin. "Is Katt living in Ruby Beach?"

"Yes." Austin nodded with a grin, since he had personally escorted her there after the murder trial of two centuries.

Frank smiled. "Kattleen is not involved here, Tom. We cured her, remember? She is happily living out her remaining days in both peace and prosperity. You made her a multi-millionaire with the lawsuits, Tom."

"I'm happy for her. Uh?" Tom stared at Austin.

"Uh, what?" Stu frowned.

"What happened to the ..." Tom frowned at Austin.

Austin bows a chin into his chest, "The baby aborted on the seventh day." To cure Kattleen of her funky disease, she was impregnated with the Danish sperm of Austin, but the disease overtook the weak fetus, aborting the embryo from the vagina of Katt.

Frank nodded to Jace. "We had expected some dramatic outcomes, because of the intensity of the poison build up in her system."

"I'm sorry, Austin." Tom whispered softly.

"Thanks, Tom." Austin nodded with a stern face and then clapped, shoving more of the paper skyscrapers to the side of his desk with a grin. "Let's talk strategy now. What, where, when, and how?"

"Fuck," Tom frowned.

"Sit, Tom." Austin smiled. Jace slid over as Tom occupied the same chaise lounge. Berrington smiled, "Go, Jace."

"Starting the meeting, now." Tom frowned.

"Yes, Tom." Austin nodded.

"Do ya need break, Tom?" Stu turned and grinned to Tom.

"No." Tom frowned.

"Are you hungry, Tom?" Stu grinned.

"No."

"Did you have a plate of breakfast, Tom?" Stu grinned.

"Yes."

"Where is your coffee, Tom?" Stu grinned.

"Finished it." Tom grinned.

"Good, pup." Frank smiled.

"Are you thirsty, Tom?" Stu grinned.

"No." Tom frowned.

"Do you need a potty break to pee, Tom?" Stu laughed.

"No."

"Need to shit, Thomas?" Stu laughed.

"No." Tom frowned.

"To fart?" Stu grinned.

"Fart?" Tom laughed.

"Do you need to fart, Tom?" Stu sniggered with his brothers and Jace.

"Outside, not inside my office," Austin pointed a finger with a stern face to the doorway.

"I have no bodily functions to report. Got it?" Tom frowned to Stu.

"Very good," Austin nodded with a grin. "Go, Jace."

"Athena..." Jace smiled.

Tom waved a skull and a free hand, turning to see Jace. The other hand held his new briefcase. "Hold the hell up here! You have her name."

"Yes." Stu nodded with a grin.

"You said that you didn't have her name." Tom turned and frowned to Stu.

"Well, we were giving you the missing background info, first." Stu grinned without a chuckle.

"So, it's not missing." Tom shook a skull with a confused brow.

"Exactly," Stu nodded with a grin without laughing.

"Exactly," Frank nodded with a grin without laughing at Tom too.

"So, you are giving me the completed background info, now." Tom frowned.

"He got it." Stu tossed both arms with a chuckle.

"Fuck ya'll good." Tom swiftly stood, shaking a skull and a hand with a sour frown.

"Sit down, Tom." Austin ordered without the finger pointing.

Jace cleared a throat. "Athena has the ability to spear electricity in the air waves, without her knowledge."

"Grandma didn't tell her that she could do that." Frank grinned.

Jace said. "Grandma died while the kid was in college in Georgia and then she got her first real job..."

"Let me take an educated guess here in Florida." Stu frowned.

"The company is called The Consulting Firm." Jace said.

"Original title," Tom looked with a sour frown and stared at his old manicure, needing a new one since he came back from his relaxing and fun vacation and into an office of chaos again.

Frank frowned. "Shut up, Tom."

"The Consulting Firm audits all banking regulated procedures." Stu said as Jace turned and passed out a set of tiny notebooks of secret data for the new rescue mission with a set of colored photographs.

"How convenient?" Tom turned and slapped the notebook on the floor, pulling out the mobile telephone, checking the latest text messages inside the boring Quartet impromptu meeting.

"Banking procedures are done at any bank, any time, anyhow, any day." Stu stared down with a stern face to study the provided notebook. "Athena from Athens..."

"Greece," Tom leaned down with a smile and pickup up an older science fiction magazine from the floor, resting inside a lap and flipped the familiar pages with boredom of another QA rescue mission.

Stu read the notebook. "Not Greece, but Georgia in the United States of America, Athens is seventy-three miles east of the metropolitan city of Atlanta with a population of 175,000. Most of the town folks work at the Navy Supply Corps School or within the township, where there holds Athens High School, Athens Fish Market, Athens Bank, Athens Library, Athens University..."

"The girl?" Tom flipped the familiar pages with a sour frown of the memorized science fiction magazine.

Stu read out loud from the notebook. "The girl is named Athena, standing at six feet and zero inches, possessing a head of long straight honey golden blonde hair, turquoise eyes, honey golden skin."

"Pretty girl," Tom reread an old article inside the magazine with a grin.

Stu read out loud from the notebook. "She was drawn from the warm rain water during a severe thunderstorm on US Highway 29, heading with her biological parents inside the family van to the hospital for the baby's delivery."

Frank chuckled. "Not Moses, he has already visited planet Earth, so she must be...."

"It's only a nickname, Frank." Stu frowned.

Tom looked up with a sour frown to see Stu. "Goody good, let me guess, the goddess."

"Dumbest brother in the Band," Stu looked up with a sneer to see Tom.

"I'm right, right? Hell, right!" Tom looked down with a grin and a giggle to see the magazine.

"He's right." Frank stared at the notebook with a smile.

"Told ya, the smartest brother in the Band," Tom tossed the magazine down to the floor and stood for a swift grand exit to the closed archway.

"That's very debatable, Tom." Frank looked up with a grin to see Tom.

"Debate it now, Frank, in my office at ten am, sharp." Tom grinned with a nod to Frank.

Stu turned and frowned to Frank and Tom. "Shut up, Frank. Sit down, Tom. She graduated with an accounting degree from the Athens University in the US State of Georgia along with a new job in Miami, Florida as a bank auditor."

"That's normal." Tom sat and leaned down, selecting another older magazine.

Stu said. "The abnormal part, she possesses the ability to form electricity from her body, when she's upset or excited. Thunderstorms cause a disruption stream within any and all electronic equipment. Professor Fabian Icarius figured it out, when he noted her and the storms interacted together at the University's Georgia campus. He devised a plan to use her supernatural powers to get rich, very rich. He enlisted the assistance of Ned Nessle, who becomes a big guy in Miami, Florida. Nessle sets up all the bank executives with pretty whores, just to get access to the time schedules of the bank truck deliveries ran during the work week. Nessle got the bank information. Athena got employed by a made-up company of Nessle. Then, Nessle and Athena entered the first targeted bank for the first test. The electricity power inside the bank switched to off and then went dark. The business associates of Nessle with their fake toy guns entered and then robbed the targeted bank in a pretty maiden row. The end of the demon tale."

"Pretty good damn working theory, Stuart." Tom flipped the familiar pages with a nod and a grin.

"No theory, here, Tom." Stu shook a bald skull with a worried brow.

"How the hell did you figure all this out?" Tom tossed the magazine and leaned down, grabbing and flipped through the mission notebook from Jace with a puzzled brow.

Stu said. "Our contact provided some very useful and new information that Quartet Associates shared with FBI and Police Departments in both Miami and Athens, Georgia."

Tom stared down with a sour frown at the notebook. "The fool deserted his house, his post, and his students at Athens-Georgia University, when he moved from Athens to Miami. The FBI found his notebook, his notes, his research papers, his drawings, his charts, his graphs, his names, his addresses of drug dealers, his pushers and his other notable 'bad' guys."

"A sting," Austin turned and smiled at the hair roots on Tom.

"A great big fugly ugly bee sting," Stu turned with a smile and a nod to see nose profile on Austin.

Tom looked up with a sour frown to see Austin. "Why are we involved again? I'm getting really fuckingly confused, again."

"Fuckingly ain't a word, Tom." Stu grinned.

"The goddess?" Austin grinned. "She's missing."

"I thought she was part of the bank scam." Tom looked down with a confused brow and flipped through the rescue mission notebook, not reading the information.

Austin said to the hair roots on Tom. "Athena is not. She is a victim of Ned's plot to rob all the local Miami banks. She's missing. Fabian's missing. The money's missing."

"How many local Miami banks?" Tom looked up with a worried brow to see Austin.

Frank said. "Twelve local banks from Miami Springs to Kendall have been successfully robbed in the past six weeks with a total of ninety million dollars that has been stolen and not recovered."

"Holy fucking shit." Tom gasped.

Stu said. "One bank job, an innocent bystander was electrocuted at the bank site, trying to force the power on, before the bank robbers entered. He died at Kendall Charity Hospital. Some of the hostages were taken to Charity for both health and safety examinations."

Tom turned and frowned at Austin, "Hospital, what happened to super asshole president Jefferson and all the other Charity supermen and women?"

"Do you read, Tom?" Stu frowned.

Tom turned and shook his bangs to Stu. "Shit, man, Jane won't let me bring the cell or laptop. All's I did was fuck her and eat food."

"You look both healthy and preppy, Thomas." Frank smiled with a nod to Tom.

"Thanks, I feel great." Tom slapped a flat chest with a free hand with a grin.

"New executive management at the Charity Healthcare headquarters, the Quartet is back on the super board with super support from the new Charity supermen and women." Frank turned and nodded with a smile to each face.

"Ned Nessle," Stu frowned.

Tom tossed a hand. "Wait, Stu. Explain to me, one more fucking time, why we are getting involved here, Austin? This is an FBI investigation, not..."

"...the goddess." Austin grinned.

"Don't you want to meet a goddess, Tom?" Stu grinned.

"Hell, no, I'm happily married. I love my wife. She's my goddess." Tom tossed the mission notebook over the carpet, picking up and stared down with a sour frown at the science fiction magazine.

"I wanna meet a goddess." Stu turned and winked to Austin. Austin chuckled.

Tom flipped the familiar pages with a sour frown. "There you go. Stu and his hormones can work with the FBI to find the damn goddess girl. Leave me the fuck out, totally." He stood, dropping the magazine down to the floor with a stern face.

Stu turned and winked to Austin. "The ninety million dollars that is missing, it is some of our monies, Tom."

Tom looked and turned ghost white within a face with a gasp to see Stu. "Fuck! My money's gone."

Frank tossed both arms with a sour frown. "Not right, Tom! The FDIC covers our billions and billions of dollars down to one penny which are stored in numerous banks throughout the US. Our US Federal Government covers our loss of any money from thief, embezzlement, robbery, disasters..."

Tom lifted and rotated a pair of folded fists into the air. "That bitch-goddess stole all my money."

"Yes, Tom." Stu nodded with grin to Tom.

"No, Tom." Frank shook a skull with a sour frown at Tom.

"Yes, Tom." Stu nodded with a grin to Tom again.

Frank reached over and slapped the leg of Stu with a sour frown, since he couldn't slap the face of Stu without getting killed. "Shut up, Stu. Not right, Tom."

Tom raised both his fists with an angry face, "She's dead."

"Good, pup." Stu turned and winked to Austin.

Austin grinned at the nose profile on Sawyer. "Sit down, Tom." Tom sat on edge of chaise lounge as an alert and primed fourth for the upcoming fight and kill for all his monies.

"Ned Nessle owns a castle." Stu said.

"Who says?" Tom nodded with a stern face to Stu.

"The kid, the one killed by the shark attack." Stu said.

"The kid talked." Tom nodded with a stern face to Stu.

"Rapido," Stu grinned.

"Rapido?" Tom frowned.

"Rapidly, swiftly, fast," Stu nodded with a grin.

"Got it," Tom nodded with a stern face to Stu.

Stu said. "Before he died..."

".... died, croaked, gone, passed away, descended into heaven." Tom nodded with a stern face to Stu.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank turned and frowned at Tom.

"Frank started it." Tom pointed to Mangrove with a chuckle and a smile.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank frowned.

"The castle," said Stu.

"The castle." Tom nodded with a stern face to Stu.

"Pay attention, Tom." Austin stared with a stern face at Stu.

"The castle is located at Big Pine Key, the only structure with a security bridge with ton of armed guards, loaded guns, and numerous invited guests, including a creatively invented shark pool."

"What, no moat?" Tom laughed.

"The shark pool serves as the moat. Okay, Tom?" Stu frowned.

"Got it," Tom nodded with a stern face to Stu.

Stu said. "The kid tried to cross the moat inside the shark pool swimming inside the ocean water to escape the shooting guns."

"Ouch." Tom touched a nose with a chuckle.

"Yeah, big ouch," Stu nodded.

"Who saved the kid?" Tom leaned down and placed both elbows on top of the kneecaps, facing Stu.

"The shark," Stu grinned.

"What, shark?" Tom frowned.

"Almighty God, Tom, Almighty God saved his ass." Stu frowned.

"Fuck." Tom swiftly reached and grabbed his new briefcase and stood, turning with sour frown to the closed archway.

"Sit down, Tom." Austin turned and stared at back spine on Tom.

"What for?" Tom moved with a sour frown to the door.

"Your money," Frank exhaled with a huff of annoyance, since the only way that Tom would participate in the QA rescue mission was to save his billions.

Tom spun around, flinging a free arm with a sour frown to Austin. "Okay, I give up. Why did the stupid dumbass kid cross the shark infected shitty moat to get into the great big damn gigantic castle with the shooting fucking guns?"

Frank chuckled. "Gawd, Tom is so eloquently charming with his selected vocabulary words. Isn't he?"

"Fuck you, Mangrove." Tom turned and pointed with a sour frown to Frank.

"Sit down, Tom." Austin frowned. Tom moved backward and sat down on the shared chaise lounge with Jace with a sour frown in silence.

Frank laughed. "He did it, again, such genius with the English language."

"The kid was trying to save his sister, Tom." Austin frowned.

"Sister?" Tom turned and frowned at Austin.

"Sister," Frank nodded to Tom.

Stu said. "Yes, Tom, a sister is a female sibling within a biological family that is related to a biological brother from the same biological mother and father, who had fucked together, producing a healthy viable embryo."

Frank turned with a smile and a nod to see Gage. "Stu should have been a smart ass physician, like me."

Stu turned with a smile and a nod to see Frank. "I should have been, Dr. Mangrove."

"You should have been, Dr. Gage." Frank nodded back with a grin to Stu.

Tom tossed a free arm. The other hand held his new leather briefcase. "So, shit, he tried to save his fucking sister, but got ate by a big gawd damn tiger shark."

"The smartest brother in the band," Austin grinned at the nose profile on Tom.

Tom scratched a forehead, looking at Austin "Fuck, she's a fucking whore, right, Austin?"

"Tom?" Stu frowned.

Tom lifted and wobbled two fingers at Austin. "Two, we gotta save two whores, right, Austin?"

"Thomas?" Frank frowned.

Tom waved a skull and a free hand. "Lookie, I wanna get it right from the beginning, before..."

"Ned is the bank robber. He has the money. He also has many hostages." Austin stared with a stern face and a serious tone to Tom.

Tom nodded with a grin, since man-whore Berrington would know the correct answer, "So how many whores, Austin?"

"Their hostages, not whores, please use the correct proper term, Tom." Frank frowned.

Tom tossed a free hand with a giggle, "Fine, hostages."

Stu said. "If I had a sister, I would do anything and everything to save her from..."

"You're an only child, Stu." Tom turned and gasped at Stu.

Stu nodded. "I'm very aware of that medical fact, Thomas, but if I did indeed have a biological sister or..."

"An only child from an only child from an only child," Tom rolled the free hand over and over into the air with a confused brow.

"Enough, pup." Austin exhaled.

Frank nodded. "I agree with Stu. This kid provided us the information that didn't save his life, but saved ..."

"My money," Tom smiled with a nod, dropping the briefcase down to the soft carpet, and reached and pulled another older science fiction magazine into the lap.

"Tom's money." Frank shook his red colored hair skull.

"We own him a debt to save his sister." Stu turned and nodded to Austin.

Tom exhaled. "Whatever, his sister, her sister, their sister, or my sister..." Frank fell down from the chair, landing on top of his kneecaps. Tom looked up with a sour frown to see Frank. "What the fuck are you doing, Mangrove?"

"Praying," Frank lifted and folded both hands into a triangle pose, bowing a chin down into his dress shirt with a soft mumble of words, without seeing each face.

Stu turned and frowned at the rear red colored hair skull of Frank. "The Quartet never fails. We succeed always."

"I'm not praying for the Quartet." Frank continued to pose in prayer without seeing the face of a brother.

The first day back from his fun and relaxing vacation, Tom had found out that there was another babe in trouble. Frank was acting like a moron, maybe he had slipped on one of his tap needles, this morning. Tom sneered at the rear colored hair roots on Mangrove. "What the fuck are you doing, Frank?"

"Thanking God Almighty, Tom has never had or never will have a sister." Frank continued to pose in pray on the floor without seeing Tom.

"Fuck, Frank." Tom shook his bangs with a sour frown, staring at the red colored hair roots on Mangrove.

"Why's that important, Franklin?" Stu frowned at the rear red colored hair skull of Mangrove.

Frank turned and frowned at Stu. "Just imagine, another Sawyer."

He gasped. "Gawd, you're so true and right." Stu leaped down from the chair, landing on top of his kneecaps over the soft carpet, clapping both hands together into a triangle prayer too, bowing a chin down into his dress shirt, moving a pair of lips in silent.

Tom stared at both Frank and Stu, looking down with a distorted face to see the familiar pages of the older science fiction magazine with a sour tone. "A fucking comedy team, now, you, two are not amusing, twin pair of asswipes."

"Amen." Stu clapped for fun, standing with a smile, back stepping back into his assigned chair inside the southeastern wall corner of the throne room with a sigh.

Tom turned and frowned at Stu. "Looky, if I had a sister, which I don't, but if I had a sister, I would, I would..."

"...shoot her." Stu laughed.

"...in the head with his Ghost, as soon as possible," Frank stood with a nod, back stepping and sat back down inside his assigned chair of the throne room.

"Messy," Stu turned and winked at Frank.

Frank turned and winked to Stu. "Bloody."

Stu smiled to Frank. "Horrible."

Tom frowned. "I might not."

Stu turned and frowned at Tom, "You would, ya selfish turd. Tom, you're the most spoiled pompous asshole on the planet."

Tom smiled. "Thank you."

Stu shook a bald skull. "Insults don't even phase the dumbshit."

Frank frowned. "We don't need two Sawyers, running around the planet."

Stu nodded, "Hell...the solar system."

Frank smiled. "Hell...the universe."

Tom frowned. "Hey, don't fuckingly insult my biological family, man."

Austin grinned. "Actually, there are two Sawyers on the planet."

Stu turned and frowned to Austin, "Who?"

Austin nodded with a grin to Stu, "Sawyer, Junior and Sawyer, the third."

Frank turned and nodded to Berrington. "Austin's correct."

Stu frowned, "Your point, Old Man?"

Austin grinned. "Soy..."

Tom turned and growled, "Hey, that's my biological dad. Show some respect!"

Austin turned and smiled to Tom. "Sawyer, Junior had quite a reputation before his son took over took the crown."

Stu turned and chuckled to Tom, "Party boy, junior."

Tom frowned. "Are you making some kind of fucking-ass point about my dad, Austin?"

Austin reached and lifted the chocolate milk to a smile, "Thinking out loud, Tom. Your biological father enjoyed many more women than you or me." He sipped the chocolate milk.

Tom nodded with a sour frown, "Know that."

Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Berrington, "Your point, Austin?"

Austin looked down with a smile at the rescue mission notebook on the top of his desk, "Thinking out loud."

Frank nodded with a grin. "Moving on?"

"My money," Tom turned and frowned to each brother.

Frank turned and frowned to Sawyer. "Your money is safe, Tom. I just told ya." Since Tom was missing the point of the QA meeting and the cause of the fight which was not money but saving a group of innocent lives.

Tom giggled with a grin and a nod, "Just the facts, Jack and rapido."

Frank rolled his eyeballs with a sour frown. "O gawd."

Stu grinned, "Here, we go, again."

Islamorada Beach (90 miles south of Coral Beach)

Houseboat of Fabian

Hot temperatures, windy with light rain showers

10:04 a.m.

The winds blow north at three miles-per-hour.

Fabian Icarius, formally the professor of physics at Athens University in the city Athens and the US State of Georgia, lived inside a tiny one room metal and steel houseboat that was shaped like a boat. The boat was docked at the Islamorada beach coast. He enjoyed fucking his friends, his enemies, his girls, and his strangers from evening to morning. Then Fabian killed them, chopping off numerous body parts into a pail of tiny shark bait, then dumping the bloody chum into the Atlantic Ocean.

Life was great and simple.

Ned Nessle still was employed as a banker, formally of the city of Athens and the US State of Georgia, driving through the bright sunshine and halted the speed boat, docking it behind the house boat inside the shallow water, killing the engine. He turned and moved, squatting and lifted the object over a collar bone, swinging around and crawled out the boat into the sand, strolling up to the ramp of the house boat.

He slammed the door open, entering the smelly, dirty, and disgusting one room which was a floating hotel of horror and gagged inside the archway. He back stepped back outside within the fresh air and sunshine and breathed a gulp of oxygen for three seconds. He held a breath and moved back through the archway for a second time, toting the heavy object over a collar bone, moving over a bloody wet floor of red blood. Fabian laughed at sissy Ned. "Been busy?" Ned stopped in the middle of the room, tossing the heavy object onto the floor as some of the blood danced in the air and landed back down over the object and the floor, turning and scanned a room of finely chopped human body parts.

"Getting rid of evidence," Fabian lifted with a smile and chopped down the axe with a giggle of stoned drugs over the new body part of the female as the rich red blood proteins splattered over the naked chest of Fabian, the body, the counter, the walls, and the floor. "Fucked first then gone."

"The girls?"

Fabian lifted with a smile and chopped down the axe with a giggle of stoned drugs over the new body part of the female as the rich red blood proteins splattered over the naked chest of Fabian, the body, the counter, the walls, and the floor, "Gone."

"The gays?"

Fabian lifted with a smile and chopped down the axe with a giggle of stoned drugs over the new body part of the female as the rich red blood proteins splattered over the naked chest of Fabian, the body, the counter, the walls, and the floor. "Fucked them then gone."

"The bankers?"

Fabian lifted with a smile and chopped down the axe with a giggle of stoned drugs over the new body part of the female as the rich red blood proteins splattered over the naked chest of Fabian, the body, the counter, the walls, and the floor. He looked up with a stoned face and a smile, pointing down at the female on the floor. "Who's this?"

"My wife."

He tossed the axe over a naked collar bone with a smile and a nod to Ned. "Congratulations, dude. Ya got married?"

"For a short five days, but it was all worth it."

Fabian lifted with a smile and chopped down the axe with a giggle of stoned drugs over the new body part of the female as the rich red blood proteins splattered over the naked chest of Fabian, the body, the counter, the walls, and the floor, "My condolences."

Ned nodded with a grin to the bloody covered hair roots on Fabian. "Thanks. I plan to marry, again." He had taken care of the last of his old business employees Cortina, who was the secretary before he rode out of Miami. Then he added into the mix the first whore and the second whore from the pool of working secretary until all the college whores were gone and dead which had been carved by the sharp hatchet of Fabian. Currently, Ned was holding Athena as a hostage inside a newly purchased yacht, after befriending her first. Then, Nessle would be fucking her second and finally he would kill her last, after he had eliminated Fabian of his duty right now.

Fabian leaned down with a grin and a giggle and shoved the rest of the smaller human body parts over the side of the counter into a series of knee high tubs as some of the chopped up body parts hit the floor, the walls, and into the three buckets. He stood upright, wearing a shirt and a face of red blood protein and turned with a permanent grin, moving and squatted down to see Jetta and kneeled down on his kneecaps. He lifted and chopped down the blood stained axe at the throat of Jett.

Ned gagged with a cough, turning a face to see a red blood stained steel covered wall.

Fabian laughed with a giggle and continued to chop up each body part with a grin. The space man was truly insane, since a druggie would get high and didn't know what they did or said second by second. Fabian wasn't high on dope. He was insanely crazy with intent of performing a set of evil doings every hour.

Eventually, the day would come when Fabian would attack at Ned, not out of greed, but from druggie fright and forgetfulness. Fabian would not recognize his old friend, using that sharp little axe the rear skull of Ned.

So, Ned had a quick and quiet solution and reached, pulling out a pair of plastic gun and a hand gun from the breast pocket of an older suit jacket. He donned the gloves as Fabian continued to squat on the floor, lifting and chopping the axe on the dead body parts of Jett and aimed at the only giggling target inside the tiny room. He gritted his teeth, holding the gun with two sweaty palms inside the plastic gloves, shooting while splattering the genius brain cells of Fabian against all the metal walls inside the houseboat.

Fabian had envisioned, detailed, and financed the dream of a millionaire. If only he had remained stable throughout the on-going series of bank robbery events, Ned felt that Fabian had never been stable, at least mentally.

Ned exhaled with a puff of relief, squatting and placing the smoking gun near the curved up body, wearing the set of plastic gloves. He moved and left away from the powered up houseboat, untying the ropes, after he had placed a set of individual TNT explosives inside each wall and over the metal floor. He jogged and climbed on-board the small speed boat, staring the engine, backing away from the houseboat.

The houseboat slowly drifted from the dock, swiftly turning toward the open ocean, running full speed away from the beach island soil until it looked like a silver tinted dot over the water horizon of the blue seas. Then Ned lifted and pressed the remote control that was built by one of his guards even with a smirk. The houseboat imploded into a fire bomb of reds, yellows, and blues colors first, launched like a rocket into the blue sky second and finally dropped down and sink underneath the great sea third.

"Bye, Fabian," Ned stood in front of the steering wheel with a smile, cranking the boat and turned the boat from the dock and piloted back to his yacht for his victory prize, the goddess.

The series of bank heists had been extremely profitable, making Ned worth about ninety million dollars in cash. He had used some of the monies to purchased and renovate a sea castle on the island of Big Pine Key that came complete with a shark pool which surrounded the property. Ned purchased the shark separate from another source for additional monies.

The shark tank had paid off when the biological brother of his former and dead wife Jetta figured out how to get inside the ocean waters of the hidden cove. Jon noted that the two beautiful elaborate golden outlets was used to hide the water entrance into an underground cove, where the hungry and mean sharks lived and thrilled the other night without being eaten by one of the sharks.

However, Jon was gone now, quickly and quietly, too.

10:35 a.m.

Homestead US Military Base air field

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy

The home of the United States Homestead military base within the geographical location of South Florida operated an air and sea base that patrolled the skies and the seas of Miami and the surrounding countries for protection surveillance of unwelcomed sea terrorists and any type of water rescue activities. The historical military base dated back to World War Two when it was originally opened as the Homestead Army air field station, serving as a maintenance and fuel stopover for all flying aircraft that was headed overseas which all came from United States of America.

The Quartet Associates employee crew and pilots moved and loaded inside two separate helicopters from a row of the parked vans. Each helicopter held the maximum capacity by the book regulation of fifteen, since Stu was a stickler for safety and security for all his employees and his brothers.

The QA teams along with the Quartet were preparing to launch a surprise air attack at the sea castle on the island of Big Pine Key inside the Key West islands. The sea castle was the current residence of bank robber Ned Nessle.

Austin stood inside the open hatchway, holding onto the interior handle, wearing a jumpsuit of tan and white wiggling lines that was fire resistant, which differential from the solid black jumpsuits of the police department and the green jumpsuits from the US military. He wore a tan colored helmet for safety with a voice transmitter for communication and waved an arm for the lift-off of the approved rescue and destroy QA mission. Austin would rescue Jetta, telling her what had happened to Jon and then take care of her financially for the rest of her living days. Then Berrington would destroy every living soul inside and outside the sea castle, who currently was employed by bank robber Ned Nessle. Then one of the QA guards would find and hold Ned Nessle as Austin strangled the evil man with a pair of his bare hands.

The two helicopters launched at different time from the Homestead military base. Stu commanded the first helicopter flying due south then he would turn to the west and attack from the western side of sea castle. Austin led a second helicopter with Tom and Frank, flying parallel even with Stu then he would turn into the east and attack the sea castle from the eastern side of the Atlantic Ocean.

The two metal birds soared up and into the baby blue sky with the rotors moving horizontally at a parallel till.

11:44 a.m.

Hot temperatures and windy with bright sunshine

Ten miles north of Big Pine Key island

Stu leaned over into the naked air currents, waving off an arm signal to Austin as his helicopter turned and veered into a western direction from the northern flight before reaching the sea castle. Austin continued flying due south for a little while longer, watching the other helicopter lower down over a set of tiny ripples of a calm ocean in rolling attack mode. The radio silent was maintained as the alert and prepared Quartet Associate guards stood inside the interior hot cabin and watched a set of electronic monitors, displaying the time, the wind direction, the sunlight level, the air speed, and the distance from the intended target.

Over the calm sea through the sky, the helicopter of Stu and his team of QA guards slowly glided over a peaceful ocean for an eastern invasion. Then a great big sea monster leaped up and into the air, falling back down into the blue water, hitting the metal tail boom of the metal machine with its fin.

The helicopter bounced up and down through the air. "Fuck," Stu shouted into the transmitter of tan colored helmet for all the other eardrums to hear the distress call.

The pilot swiftly balanced and lifted the helicopter higher into the air but the metal damage had occurred which caused the copter to tilt sideways during the flight.

"Retreat," the pilot said via the transmitter from his helmet to Gage.

Inside the helicopter of Austin, Tom gasped and pointed down with a worried brow to the second helicopter that was commanded by Stu, saying through the transmitter of his tan colored helmet for all eardrums too. "Holy fucking shit, see that? A gawd damn shark jumped ten fucking feet up and out from the ocean and into the air like...like a fish. How on fucking Earth did it do that? Its tail hit the helicopter."

Frank saw the same scene, saying via the transmitter of his tan colored helmet for all eardrums, "The tail is properly called the caudal fin."

"Status, pilot?" Austin saw the same scene, staring at the second helicopter, saying via the transmitter of his helmet to all eardrums for information about the condition of Stu's helicopter.

The pilot for Austin said via the transmitter to all eardrums. "Retreat order. Tail boom's bent. Might land in water, Austin."

"Confirm the order." Austin said via the transmitter with a sour frown.

"Yes, sir," the pilot for Austin said via the transmitter.

Tom pointed down to the shark with a grin via the helmet transmitter for all eardrums. "Ya see the size of the caudal fin?"

Frank said via the transmitter. "Big."

Tom said with a smile via the transmitter, "Forty feet."

"They only grow to twenty feet and weight 4,200 pounds."

Tom said with a frown via the transmitter, "Fine! It is nineteen and a quarter foot long, Frank."

"Females are bigger."

Tom said with a frown via the transmitter, "Fine! It's a short bitch. Did you see the size of the head?"

"The trunk?"

Tom laughed via the transmitter. "Is that part of the twenty feet, Frank? Then it's a great white shark."

Frank said with a frown via the transmitter. "Impossible, great white sharks do not live within the warm waters of US Florida," he turned with a smile, saying via the transmitter to Austin. "Stu's pissed."

Austin said with a stern face via the transmitter, watching the sea castle over the horizon. "The frontal assault is cancelled. We're going into the rear alone."

Tom pointed down to the second helicopter with a laugh via the transmitter, seeing it turn and run away from the fight. "Gawd, I feel bad for them."

Frank said with a frown via the transmitter, watching the bent tail of the helicopter as the copter slowly bounced up and down over the highway. "Stu? Our guards?"

Tom laughed via the transmitter, watching the damaged helicopter. "Ned's guests, they're dead."

"We'll be the first to arrive, since Stu has a forty-five-minute drive on the motorcycles."

Tom laughed via the transmitter. "He'll miss the entire party."

Frank pointed down to the shark, saying with a stern face via the transmitter. "See it?"

"See it better." Tom pointed up at the leaping shark with a laugh via the transmitter. "It jumped."

Frank smiled via the transmitter. "The ambush from the water is called breaching."

"Jumping great white shark, too cool."

"The method of breaching is very common off the coast of Africa, not Florida."

Tom watched the sharks with a sour frown via the transmitter, "Really?"

"It clears about fifteen feet into dead air while capturing a sea lion within a mouth of sharp fangs."

Tom smiled via the transmitter, "Cool."

Frank smiled. "I bet Stu feels differently."

"Stu is hot, now." Tom smiled via the transmitter. "Was the sharks imported from Africa to here?"

Frank said with a stern face via the transmitter, watching the sharks inside the water. "These are a set of exported sharks that have come illegally into the castle."

"They got loose from the game warden along the sandy coastline of Florida." Tom laughed.

Frank said with a smile via the transmitter, "Electroreception."

"A shark reception party for both the game warden and the Quartet," chuckled Tom.

"It is their natural built-in electrical field that senses a prey, in this instance food, which was the metal flying helicopter that was a big shiny bird."

Tom chuckled. "You mean the dumb ass Stu on the shiny bird."

"The metal of the helicopter interacts with the raising salt water then the electrochemical sparks generate a rusting metal sound similar to a weaken field of fishy prey for the confused sharks."

He pulled out and thumb tapped on his mobile telephone. "The shark attacked, Frank, just like a meal time order," Tom watched the sharks on the tiny screen with a chuckle, "It is an oceanic white tipped shark, not a great white, Frank."

"A jumping great white shark, please notice the lack of white tipping on the caudal fin shape. These species possess a set of powerful problem solving skills both social and curious."

"It got curious, Frank." Tom replaced the mobile telephone into a side pocket of the tan and white jumpsuit with a chuckle and a smile, looking down at the sharks in the water.

"Yes, Tom, they did."

Austin said with a stern face via the transmitter, watching the sea castle. "Focus on the mission, Tom."

"Our arrival to target in two minutes, thirty-eight seconds, Austin," The pilot said via the transmitter for all the eardrums.

Tom turned and smiled at Austin, "The plan?"

Austin stared at the radar plasma of the castle on the wall as the helicopter drew closer. "Follow the plan, Tom."

Tom smiled, "Got it."

Austin said with a stern face, watching the radar on the wall. "Gage is going to perform a frontal assault through the set of iron gates."

Tom jabbed a finger with a laugh down to the sea castle. "We'll be well done like a cooked T-bone steak. Do you get it, Frank? By the time, he gets his ass here."

The helicopter turned and circles the seat castle as the lame security guards of Ned fired with a set of hand pistols, shooting at the helicopter.

Tom sneered via the transmitter, "Fucking assholes."

The helicopter looped around the castle for a second time, Tom shuffled sideways and slammed his gusts into the big weapon, moving and standing behind the controls and fired the mounted canon gun at one of the corner posts on the rooftop of the seashell fortress, missing the intended target. The shell hit a window that was ten feet below the rooftop post. The helicopter turned and encircled the rooftop again as some of the fighting soldiers of Ned fired back at the flying helicopter.

Frank said with a frown via the transmitter, watching a scene of screaming people and firing bullets, "Missed, Tom."

Tom said with a grin via the transmitter, patting the weapon, "My plan."

Frank frowned, "Uh, huh."

"Off, Tom," Austin side stepped and shoved Tom from the big canon with a sneer.

"I... work..." Tom tilted back in front of the controls of the gun with a smile, rotating the controls as the canon gun swung to a new target.

"Tom." Austin growled via the transmitter for all eardrums.

Tom tossed both his gloved hands and surrendered the weapon as another QA gunner of the elite fighting force took over the controls of the big weapon. Tom moved and stood beside Austin, lifting and wearing the binoculars and watched the pretty air bombardment of the sea castle.

The talented QA gunner hit at each corner of the rooftop, creating tiny peddles of rock dust into the air, without killing a human life as each solider back stepped and ran away from the powerful gun.

12:01 p.m.

Sea castle setting of Ned Nessle

Big Pine Key within upper Key West islands

Hot temperatures and windy with bright sunshine

"We're cleared up here," the QA gunner said via the transmitter from all eardrums.

"Copy that. We are landing over the grass. Hang on!" The pilot said via the transmitter for all eardrums.

The helicopter slowly floated down and settled inside congested space on top of the nicely manicured lawn, blowing away sets of chairs, tables, and some guests into the swimming pool, around the yard, and against the seashell walls. Austin, Tom, and Frank along with the thirteen QA guards dropped down from the lip of the open hatchway and landed on top of the manicured grass, holding a loaded hand gun. Most of the naked hands rose into the air with a set of curses. Some of the feet shuffled backward with a set of loud mouth screams of frightened females and males.

The paid soldiers of Ned Nessle shot once or surrendered, immediately. Or they turned and ran away with a live intact and they should, since Badass Berrington did not take prisoners.

Thus, the small armed conflict of Ned's army on land was very short lived.

Some of the silly guests had blocked and bolted all the patios doors, locking a body inside the castle. Austin would let the best QA guard Zack handle that mess of bodies.

Tom moved behind Frank and Austin, tossing a free hand into the air, pointing down with his Ghost at each person that rested over the manicured grass with a laugh and a smile, "That was easy."

Austin turned and stared at the roaming confusion of both the soldiers and the guests. "Nothing's easy, Tom." He turns with a stern face to see Zack. "Call cease fire."

Zak lifted and yelled into the mobile telephone to all the QA guards. "Cease fire. Cease fire..."

"Cease fire..." The words echoed throughout a semi-crooked horizontal line of QA guards. People scattered from the yard, the pool, and the patio, huddling in small groups which were guarded and protected by two QA guards. Some people rested on the grass, crying. Some rested inside a chair, watching. Some jump down into the water, dying before a pair of eyeballs from a pair of hungry sharks.

Tom turned and laughed at the fools that jumped from the sea wall. "I guess Ned forgot about feeding his caged great whites."

Frank stopped in place and stared at the bloody person with a worried brow. "Zak, please find the wounded and..."

"...kill 'em," Tom tossed both his arms into the air, holding his Ghost with a grin and a giggle, dancing around Frank. "Off with their skulls. Or burn them at the stakes. Or hang 'em high up into the tree limbs." He moved and stood beside Austin.

Austin stopped in place, turning with a stern face to see the captain of the QA guards. "What is the death count, so far?"

Tom moved and danced around Austin to the dead male on the ground, kicking the body with a grin and a giggle. "Who fuckingly cares? They're dead. They don't give a damn, since they're dead."

"Please gather the dead into a pile. And call the police and inform them of a drug hideout here. The police can clean up the mess." Austin exhaled and moved to the first upright guest that was drunk and stoned, saying with a stern face and a serious tone. "Jetta, where is she?"

The guest of Ned grinned with a goofy smile to Austin. "Hey, dude."

Austin reared and punched the jaw line of the guest in fury. The male fell backward, landing on a back spine into the soft sand.

"Next?" Tom danced around Austin and the unconscious fool with a laugh and a smile.

Zack jogged forward to the Quartet, dragging the shirt of a young adult, tossing the young adult in front of Austin and said with a sneer. "Tell him? Jetta is dead. Tell, Austin?"

Austin leaned and sneered into the young face of the male, "Jetta?"

The young adult slapped his shirt with a worried brow. "That girl is Ned's wife. She's cute, brown hair, short. Ned killed her. He overdosed her on drugs, sir, Mr. Berrington, sir."

Austin sneered. "Where is she, now?"

The young male jabbed a finger with a worried brow at the ocean. "Ned took the dead body with him on his little speed boat. He left about an hour ago, sir, Mr. Berrington, sir."

"Are you very certain that she has died?" Austin lifted and shoved the barrel of his Ghost underneath the neck of the young male with a sneer, feeling ready to kill someone. That someone happened to be this poor dumb shit young male in front of the Austin's angry face.

He nodded with a sweaty brow, "Yes, sir, I checked her pulse rate. Nothing. She was drugged big time. He was going to get the other guy to chop her up into little shark bait pieces."

Austin sneered and shoved the barrel on his Ghost into the cheekbone of the young male. "What, other guy?"

The young male nodded with a sweaty brow. "The fag..."

"Fabian Icarius." Frank nodded with a stern face to the young male.

The young male nodded with a worried brow, "That's him. Fabian, the fag, they call him."

Austin sneered. "Where's Fabian, now?"

The young male jabbed a finger to the water with a worried brow. "He lives in some kind of houseboat off the beach of Islamorada, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, sir."

"You get to live for a little while," Austin jerked the Ghost down to his leg with a smirk from the cheekbone of young male.

The young male back stepped with a gasp and waved a skull and both hands. "I have more, sir. I want to live longer, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, sir."

Austin smirked with a nod. "You seem to understand the Quartet way."

The young male nodded with a slight grin. "Yes, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, I do."

"Tell me?" Austin nodded with a stern face.

The young male nodded with a stern face, "Ned was married to Jetta for a little while. He killed her, because of the other young girl."

Frank nodded with a stern face to the young male. "The other young girl, she is the one that is called the goddess."

The young male turned and nodded at Frank. "Yeah, yeah, that one, the goddess is her nickname. She's beautiful, tall, golden hair, and golden skin."

Frank turned and stared at the nose profile on Austin, "That is the correct description for the goddess female, Austin."

Austin said. "Her real name is...."

The young male looked down with a stern face, staring at his dirty sneakers. "Something like Greek or Roman..."

Frank nodded with a stern face. "Athena."

The young male looked up with a grin and a nod to see Frank. "That's it. It is Athena like the goddess statute in the country of Italy during the Roman times."

Austin asked. "Where is the goddess, now?"

The young male jabbed a finger at the ocean water with a worried brow. "Ned took her too, after he overdosed his wife. She's on his yacht with him, also."

Frank frowned. "What yacht?"

The young male thumbed over a collar bone to the sea dock. "The yacht sailed from here at noon, heading toward the islands of the Bahamas, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, sir."

Austin lifted and shoved his Ghost up into the chin of the young male again with a sneer. "Dead certain?"

Frank chuckled. "Excuse the pun, young man."

The young male nodded with a sweaty brow. "Yes, sir, I gave Ned's verbal ordered to the yacht crew. And then I escorted the girl, the goddess on board the big boat. She was both nervous and excited, asking me lots of questions about the sudden sea trip to the islands of the Bahamas."

Frank nodded with a stern face, "Was she his accomplice in all the bank heists here in Miami?"

The young male shook a skull. "She worked at the fake business firm on Brickell Avenue in downtown Miami. But Ned liked her. She's young and pretty. That's why he liked her, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, sir."

Frank frowned, "Is she part of all the bank robberies, stealing all the money bags?"

The young male shook a skull, "No."

Frank frowned, "How do you know all this information, young man?"

The young male waved a skull and both sweaty hands. "I don't take drugs or alcohol, sir. I watch. I listen, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, sir." Austin smiled. The young male said with a nod and a smile, "Ned talks when stoned or drunk or both. All kinds of shit come out from his parted red chapped lips. I do my job, sir. I need the money for my family, sir, Mr. Badass Berrington, sir."

Austin smirked. "Did you shoot at me?"

The young male looked down with a worried brow to see the sand and Austin with a nod, "Sir, I was under orders."

Austin nodded, "Do you follow all orders, kid?"

The young male nodded with a stern face, "Yes sir! I follow all the orders."

Austin dropped the Ghost down from the neck of the young male with a smirk. "Good. You're hired. Your first assignment is to clean up this mess."

"Clean up," the young male turned and stared at the numerous dead and live bodies.

Austin ordered with a stern face. "Clean up. No witnesses. No survivors. No bodies."

The young male turned and stared at Austin, "Yes sir."

Frank pulled out his mobile telephone and spun around, moving ahead between with Austin and Tom back towards the helicopter, saying with a smile into the speaker of the phone. "Stu, forget the sea castle! Power up the speed boat! We're going fishing today." He disconnected the mobile telephone with a chuckle.

Austin, Tom, and Frank entered the helicopter as it lifted from the sea castle, turning and flew in a northern direction to the marina of Homestead.

City of Homestead (61 miles south of Coral Beach)

Boat Harbor and Marina

Hot temperatures and partly sunny

12:17 p.m.

The sea harbor and the boat marina lied on the eastern coast of Florida within the southern part of the USA which was known as the Florida Southern Atlantic Coast area. It was a jumping point for any sailing vessel that wanted to cruise the ocean seas between the city of Jupiter and northern beaches of Miami as far as south down to the fishing port of Islamorada, before reaching further down into the islands of the Keys around the Gulf of Mexico.

The marina was located very close to Biscayne National Park which was only known to the USA military and the Quartet. The marina was a secret base for all Quartet missions, involving both air and sea assignments.

There was a Quartet Associates sea facility that was open and monitored by a group of QA guards. The approach and entrance portal into the private harbor was five miles west of the ICW markers four and five, where a row of blue colored canvas awnings and a set of metal roofs houses held sixteen berths with an assortment of fast speed big and small boats and slower yachts.

The marina offered a nuclear power station for electricity and a set of water pumps. Trash pickup service was provided by the Dade County. There was a bait and tackle store for some leisure time fishing, a telephone and satellite service center for communication, and a nice picnic area for the QA guards with a set of outdoor grills with free standing toilets and shower stalls for fun. The ocean marina location was a fueling station for any sea vessel or a launching ramp for a boat. An engine mechanic shop was open around the clock. There was not any type of sporting and recreational buildings for sightseeing a museum, a cultural attraction, an art gallery, a manatee sanctuary, a party special event, or any children.

The Quartet stood on the dock in a row, surveying the bright flashes of light that reflected off the bow and the stern points from an eighty-foot recreational silver tinted sea craft. Austin turned and led Tom and Frank with Stu last toward the cockpit of the sea craft.

A bulky male called out with a baritone timber, approaching Gage from behind the dock and stopped. Gage spin around with a smile and a nod to see the QA guard along with Austin, Tom, and Frank. The guard handed the sea log of the ship to Gage with a stern face. "Stu, the pre-checklist and the checklist have been completed along with the working navigation and instrument lights. There are numerous working big and small flashlights, accessible flares, day signals, and other stuff that has been stored inside a dry location. A tool box is on-board with spare parts, fuel filter, light bulbs, and head parts through hull plugs." The guard turned and stared at Tom. "And there are six accessible and working fire extinguishers."

Somehow, Sawyer had mysteriously ruined a couple of fire extinguishers on the last sea outing with the Quartet. Gage grinned. Frank snorted. Austin smirked. Tom turned with a sour frown and stared at the flying sea gulls that soared high in the skies.

The QA guard turned and stared with a stern face at Stu. "The portable navigational aids are stowed. Here is latest sea weather condition, citing calm seas with one hundred percent visibility for your sea trip. The radio is functioning properly. The anchor is docked with the lines visually inspected and the fenders are tossed. You are ready to sail, Stu. Finally, here are the ship's papers, a radio license, and a fishing permit," he laughed with Gage. Frank chuckled with Austin as Tom laughed. The QA guard had referenced a legitimate permit as a real license to murder the current enemy of the Quartet, Ned Nessle. He extended a hand to Stu. "Good luck, brothers."

"Thanks, Murry." Stu extended and shook the hand of the guard, slapping the bicep on the guard with a smile and a nod. The guard released the hand of Gage and back stepped with a nod in silence, turning and moved back down the ramp. Stu turned with his brothers, moving up the ramp and into the cockpit of the sea craft.

"Who's boat?" Tom slapped the hand rail for fun with a grin.

Stu smiled, "Austin's."

Tom slipped to the side over the wet teak wood, captured and tapped a body into the wooden railing with a laugh and a smile, "So you got a small one, don't you, Austin?"

Austin halted with a sour frown and spun around with a growl to see Tom. "I beg your pardon, Tom."

Tom back stepped with a giggle and a grin from pissed off Austin, slamming into the chest of Mangrove, "Pleasure boat."

Frank gasped and shoved the back spine on Tom forward with a sour frown. "Shut up, Tom. Get moving into the boat."

Tom moved forward, leaning over the wooden railing with a smile, reading the name of the boat. "Gotcha! What kind of stupid fucking-ass signal name is that?" He stood upright, slowly moving up the wooden railing on the deck of the port behind the ass of Austin without upsetting Berrington on a sea trip.

"Got ya," Stu yelled with a grin.

"Get ya." Frank chuckled with a smile.

"Kill ya." Austin turned with a stern face and entered the gallery of the boat.

Tom turned and stood, blocking the only hatchway, scanning the small cockpit, lifting and pointed a finger through the clear window at another boat with a confused brow. "Why are we using Austin's boat instead our super-duper expensive state-of-the-art gigantic multiple millionaire dollar tub over there, Stu?"

Stu yelled with a smile, "Power yacht for speed."

Frank reached and shoved the back spine on Tom forward and into the cockpit with a chuckle and a smile. "Get inside the cockpit, Tom. Light speed, I use your make-believe science fiction term, Thomas."

Tom scooted inside the cockpit, standing in the middle of the floor with a sour frown, tossing both arms into the air with confusion. "Can we catch Nessle in time to save the goddess? Why does a goddess need to be saved? She got some new superpowers, right, Stu?" Frank moved and passed Tom, stopping and stood at the steering console, waiting on orders from Stu. Tom moved with a grin and a giggle, stopping and stood next to Frank, reaching and tried to touch the silver button. Frank reached and slapped down the hand on Tom in silence. Tom chuckled with amusement.

Stu moved with a smile and stood in front of the steering console, pressing on levers and buttons. "No prob! Ned's luxury yacht is a one hundred and fifteen feet of a pleasure cruiser with every type of convenience on-board. The ship has a modern air conditioning systems, dozens of electric lighting lamps, a radio, a GPS devise, a hot water tower, a pressurized water refrigerator, and finally a seventy inched plasma television that is directly connected into an outer space satellite. His machine is highly automation with a set of computer-controlled electric winches, controlling the sails, the radar, the autopilot controls and the echo sonar..."

Tom turned with a nod and a smile, moving around the small space of floor for sightseeing. "Computers are faster to pilot."

Stu set the controls for launching with a stern face. "Fiberglass and steel are heavier than computer software, Tom. Slow. Especially, since the boat has an additional auxiliary engine for powering an alternator to provide lighting and recharging the yacht's batteries."

Frank stood and monitored one of the radar on the steering console with a smile. "Slow poke, slow."

Austin moved ahead, stopped, stood in place while monitored another long range radar screen on the steering console near Stu, "Got him!"

Stu steered the ship, leaving from the dock, "Ned has got a very fancy houseboat. Our super yacht is bigger, better, and faster."

Tom moved ahead and encircled the small floor space for a second time with a nod and a laugh. "He means Austin's is bigger."

Frank frowned at the radar screen. "Shut up, Tom."

Tom turned and grinned at the back spine on Frank. "Bigger is better, Franklin."

Stu shook a bald skull with a sour frown, piloting the yacht toward the open sea waters. "Not in this case, the super long length of fibreglass coupled with the drag from a multi-hull, consisting of three tri-marans. The tri-marans provide a stable base that resists overturning and sailing in shallower water than a monohull."

Tom spun around with confusion and frowned at the back spine on Stu, "Huh!" He moved ahead and stopped, reaching over, trying to touch one of the new shiny buttons.

Frank reached over and smacked the hand on Tom with a sour frown. "Go and sit down inside a chair, Tom, during our short sea trip to visit with Ned and save the goddess."

"I help..." Tom leaned over with a smile and reached for the lever as Frank leaned and shoved Tom away from steering console. Tom turned with a chuckle and a smile, moving to the observation window. He was not going to bother Austin, because Berrington was upset about the dead kids that he had promised to save.

Austin had failed epically, so he might shoot off one of Tom's toes for fun.

Tom liked all his ten toes inside a pair of new leathers.

Stu steered the ship with a stern face into the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean. "Austin's cruiser is a true motor-sailer that was designed for both sailing and speed. The raised coach roof provides an enclosed wheelhouse with a set of large windows for viewing and a wider containment area that houses the helm, the engine controls, and all the navigational equipment. All of the controls are here, operating within the wheelhouse, instead of a separate cockpit."

"Speed like go-to boat, ya know, a cigarette boat with speeds of eighty miles-per-hour or more on the water. Vroom!" Tom stood at the windows, watching the objects through a pair of high-powered binoculars. The hungry sea gulls soared down from the blue sky and attacked the bubble that didn't pop over the ocean water. The bubble was a fish. The seagull popped the bubble, grabbing the fish, soaring back into the sky for lunch. "Gotcha," he laughed with amusement.

Stu steered the ship with a smile and a nod. "Correct, Thomas. Go-to boats are built of fiberglass with a deep V-shaped offshore racing hull from thirty to fifty feet long, narrow in beam with two engines for the one thousand horsepower, topping out at eighty knots in calm waters, fifty knots in choppy waters, and twenty-five knots within seven foot waves."

"How do you know all that sea faring information, Thomas." Frank turned and frowned at the back spine on Tom.

"I read." Tom continued to watch the seagulls with a smile.

"Stow it, Frank." Stu frowned. "The in-board diesel engine has one hundred horses. The most common engine type usually scores between twenty to forty horsepower, so the boat usually sails at twelve knots or fourteen miles-per-hour. However, we will travel at fifty knots or fifty-eight miles-per-hour."

Tom continued to stand in front of the window, watching the sky and the seagulls with the high-powered binoculars. "Gotcha! I don't like to sail."

Stu steered the yacht with a nod and a grin. "Austin likes to soar..."

"...like an eagle." Frank grinned down at the radar screen. "Yacht means literally in the Dutch language, to hunt."

Tom stood in front of the window and wiggled his ass side to side with a hum of a sing, watching the seagulls with the high-powered binoculars. "Then a yachting we should go, ya'll," chuckling.

Frank stared with a grin at the radar. "It is the correct nomenclature, Tom."

Stu steered with a frown. "Sit down, Tom. The Dutch used the newly created light, small, fast vessels to pursue gangs of sea pirates."

Tom turned and smile to the hair roots on Austin at the console. "Dutch? You mean to say Swedish. Austin is a Swede." He swung around, moving around the cockpit to the steering console.

"Don't start," Austin stared with a sour frown at the long radar and accumulating sea weather patterns.

"Start what, Austin?" Tom stopped in front of the rounded steering console and stood in place, leaning down with a smile and opened the drawer, peeking inside with intrigue.

Frank exhaled, "The Swede thing."

Tom slammed the drawer and opened a new one with a giggle and a grin, "He's Danish, right, ya'll?"

Frank exhaled and stared down at the radar. "Austin means the sperm thing, Tom."

"O." Tom slammed the drawer shut and opened the last one, seeing nothing of interest and slammed it shut too. He looked up with a confused brow, scanning the interior of the boat. There were miles of bland gray tinted colors, running around the entire cockpit. The cockpit was an open and curved gray plastic cramped quarters with a set of open seats, lining the aft, the starboard, and the port walls of the yacht. Sawyer frowned. "Where the hell's the bright sea colors, Austin?"

Frank studied the radar with a sour frown. "Gray is a color, Tom."

Stu steered the boat with a smile, "Dull gray."

He reached and touched the wall with a laugh and a smile, "Damn gray. Aren't yachts painted in pretty pastel colors?"

Frank smiled down at the radar screen. "Yes."

Tom turned and strolled around the small space of the floor. "...with aquatic fishy designs..."

Frank smiled down at the radar screen, "Yes."

Tom stopped in place and touched the wall with a confused brow, "And a set of pleaded hand sewn Italy cloth for both drapes and curtains."

Frank smiled down at the radar screen, "Yes."

Tom halted in place, scanning the ugly gray colored naked windows. "Where the hell's all that, Austin?"

Stu steered the boat with a stern face. "Sit down, Tom."

Tom turned and moved to the inner hatchway, jerking back the thick curtain, leaning over and peeking inside with a smile and a chuckle, "Looky, an aft cabin behind this thingy."

Stu steered the boat with a sour frown, "The entire space is called the cockpit, Tom."

Tom leaned inside, touching and powering on each item with a smile and a nod. "A single bed with heat or air and bright blinding lights. Wow, I need my sunglasses first. Then I'm taking a quick nap, before our rescue mission."

Stu steered the boat with a sour frown, "Belt in, Tom."

"I'll be back. Ya got some sunglasses somewhere down stairs or down the stairs, Austin?" Tom turned and moved to a second internal hatchway that was tall and closed, spinning around to see the back spine on his brothers. They were busy, viewing all the different types of radar monitors. Tom grinned with a nod. "I used Arnold's line. Did you notice that?" He spun around and opened the hatchway, moving from the cockpit and down into the lower sea deck.

Frank shook a skull with a sour frown, staring down at the radar screen, "Noted Tom." It was better to entertain Tom than reprimand him sometimes.

"Where is he going?" Austin looked up and turned with a sour frown to see the open hatchway that led down into the lower deck of the boat.

Stu steered the ship with a smile through the open seas. "The wealthy Dutch merchants were attracted to the sleek new boats, so they could be taken out and greet a returning sailing vessel from a long term voyage and then later from a pleasure cruise."

Tom shouted into the air waves, standing down below deck, "Where the hell's the furniture, Austin?"

Frank turned and stared at the open hatchway with a sour frown, "How many decks?"

Stu steered the boat with a nod and a smile, "Two, navigation and storage."

Tom yelled again into the air waves, coming from the below deck again. "Where the hell's the furniture and food, Old Man?"

Austin frowned at the hatchway. "What is he doing?"

Tom shouted into the air waves, coming from below deck again. "Where's the cold beer, Old Man? Gawd, are you outta of money already, Berrington? Time to worky, worky, you have been spending too many hours having fun with your little whores," his laughter echoed up into the top deck of the boat.

Stu steered the boat with a sour frown. "Go and find him, Frank! Better yet, go and beat the shit out of him. I can't. I'm steering, right now," chuckling.

Tom shouted out loud into the air waves, coming down from below deck again. "No saloon. No galley. No cabins. Hey! I found the head, going to pee."

Frank turned and frowned down at the radar, "Great, Tom."

"What an idiot!" Stu steered the ship, shaking a bald skull with a sour frown.

"Has Tom ever been on a yacht before?" Austin turned and frowned at the nose profile on Frank.

Frank continued to stare with a frown at the radar screen. "Of course, numerous times, just because, he doesn't like water..."

"...wind, sun, rain, hail, hurricanes," Stu steered the boat with a smile and a chuckle.

"Only lots of shade trees and tons of cold beer," Frank nodded with a smile.

Tom marched up the steps from the below deck and stood inside the open archway, drying off both wet hands with a towel, "You're too cheap for a carton of beer, Berrington. Damn! I should've brought my own fucking stash. What's so funny, guys?" He tossed the wet towel on the floor with a smile.

Frank stared with a smile down at the radar screen, "You."

Tom pointed to the new red colored shirt with a puzzled brow, "Me?"

Stu steered the boat with a nod and a smile, "You, Tom."

Tom tossed both arms into the air with a smile and a nod, "Hell yeah! I'm a funny guy. Did you hear the one about...?"

Frank frowned down at the radar screen. "Shut up, Tom!"

Tom shook his bangs with a smile. "Hey! I'm entertaining the working troops, Mangrove." He moved forward to the wheelhouse with Stu and Austin.

He steered the ship with a sour frown, "Sit down, Tom." Stu turned and read the instruments. "Status reports of radar and GPS?"

"Working," Austin stared down with a stern face at the sea faring instruments.

Tom stopped in place and lifted a hand, smashing the fog horn on top of the wheelhouse. "The one second blast is audible working." He sniggered, turning and moved to another devise on console.

"Sit down, Tom. Tide?" Stu asked.

Austin back stepped from the radar screen, moving to the windows, lifting and wore the high powered binoculars. "Calm seas with a pod of blue marlins off the port bow, Stu."

"Hey, Stu, do you have a skipper's license to operate this fine luxury recreational sea craft? Because, if not, I must arrest your big ass as a certified lawyer of the seas, too," Tom leaned over and tried to touch the lever with a giggle and a grin.

Stu side stepped with a sour frown and shoved Tom from the wheelhouse. "The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission or FWC requires for every skipper to possess a FWI issued boating safety ID card, following and understanding all the boating rules and regulations, such like, boating under the influence, boating safety education, waterway markers, possession of gasoline on a vessel, and the destruction of a coral reef. Sit down, Tom! We can sleep below the deck..."

"...with a head," Tom turned with a smile and pointed to the closed hatchway.

"Head, check." Frank laughed.

Tom turned and moved to one of the numerous empty chairs that were bolted against one of the gray naked walls. "It's clean but smelly for a little while. But I flushed it. The toilet works."

Stu steered the boat with a sour frown. "That's for your potty assessment, Tom."

Tom turned and sat inside the chair, seeing the blue waves of the ocean with a grin and a nod. "You're quite welcome, Captain Stu." He stood with a smile, feeling bored and confided, moving around the small space of the floor.

Frank turned and stared at the closed hatchway. "What's down below us?"

"Anchor, see it on deck." Tom stopped and stood, jabbing a finger at the window and reached, pulling out his mobile telephone from a new pair of blue jeans. He had changed out of the tan and white jumpsuit during the helicopter ride to the boat marina into a new red colored shirt and a new pair of blue jeans with a new pair of leathers. He lifted the mobile telephone and posed in front of the window with a grin and a giggle. "I'm getting a pic, since Captain Stu can't visually see the great big silver object." He snapped the picture with a smile and back stepped, turning with a giggle, staring down at the electronic photography and moved to stand beside the nose profile on Stu. Tom lifted and touched the cheekbone of Stu with the screen of the mobile telephone with a grin and a giggle. "See the anchor, Captain Stu!"

Stu allowed the gently thump on the cheekbone with a fake smile, entertaining foolish Tom. "Good boy, Tom. Now, go and sit down for the rest of the sea trip."

Austin stared through a pair of the high-powered binoculars at the clouds over the sea water, "Empty space."

"Confirmed," Tom dropped the mobile telephone down to his leg with a grin and giggle and reached, trying to touch the echo-sounding equipment with a free hand.

"Where's all the rescue gear?" Stu steered the boat with a stern face.

"Nope," Frank stared down with a chuckle at the radar screen.

"Nope?" Tom looked up with a worried brow to see the red colored hair roots on Frank. "What the hell's nope, Frank? There's rescue gear, right, Austin? Ain't there rescue gear stored somewhere in here to rescue us when we need rescuing, right, Stu?"

Frank stared down with a smile and a chuckle at the radar screen. "Thomas gets to swim back home to Coral Beach, after the yacht sinks down deep into the dark blue ocean waters."

"Sit down, Tom! Don't touch anything before I beat your ass." Stu steered the boat with a sour frown.

Austin dropped the binoculars with a huff, turning with a stern face and moved back to his spot on the wheelhouse, stopping and stood in front of the long radar screen. He looked down with a stern face to see the radar screen. "I loan this ship to the Coast Guard for drug extraction activities over the ocean waters. The Coast Guard supplies their own rescue gear during the military operations."

Everyone knew the Quartet had a special place in each heart for druggie, including all the lords, the users, the takers, and the givers, especially Austin. He had a personal private purpose, wiping all the abusive druggies off planet Earth.

Seventeen years ago

City of Coral Gables

YYCA Center

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Austin wasn't so sensitive during his youth, until his mom had forced him to counsel a group of teenagers at the local YYCA in the city of Coral Gables, one of her many charity causes. He was thirteen years old, showing love to his mom while wanting to make her proud of him.

He agreed to talk with the pre-teenagers as a peer and equal as a teenager, not as a teacher, an adult or an instructor. He learned a lot of facts and fiction about the hard narcotics, such like, cocaine and heroin plus the effect on a young unaltered teenage mind.

Austin swiftly changed his main purpose, when one of his school friends had become a victim of an elegant and swift burglary crime. The family jewels had been stolen plus the family dog was killed in cold blood with a set of sharp knives.

Berrington was angry, mad, and revengeful for that mean evil deed. The young teen Quartet searched high and low for the thieves of the gems and the murderers of an innocent pet.

Then they discovered the killers inside the seventh grade social studies classroom.

Austin had quickly learned from his teen life lesson. You could take a horse to water, but it won't drink on demand.

The same type of pre-teen did not want merciful help, only dirty fun. However, their dirty fun needed money. And anyone's money would do for the dirty fun.

The Quartet decided to teach the youngsters a valuable lesson in social manners. One, the smart ass middle schoolers would never forget.

After that accidentally incident of some beaten and bleedin' limbs and toes, Austin didn't give a shit about all druggies. He didn't feel pity, sorrow, or sympathy, only an array of punishment, hate, and vengeance, whether legal or illegal, given by his hand or not for choosing a wrong foot path.

Present day, the Quartet Foundation which was established and ran by Tom, Stu, Frank, and Austin helped thousands of people every day, including the families of druggies and their victims with medical recovery, clinical counseling, and money financial burdens.

Present day and place

Gotcha!

US waters within the Atlantic Ocean

12:24 p.m.

Top deck setting

Hot temperatures with partly sunny

Visibility was ten miles. Winds blew north at six miles-per-hour. The barometer read 29.82 inches with a steady and light breeze gale.

"Rescue gear, where's it usually located? Is it down below my feet?" Tom turned with a worried brow and pointed over to the closed hatchway.

Stu reached over and grabbed the object, leaning over and handed the binoculars to Sawyer with a smile. "Tom, you're storm spotter, now."

Tom turned to see the object, leaning over and slowly grabbed the binoculars with a puzzled brow, "Okay."

Austin looked up with a stern face to see the window. "Tom, a good skipper knows to always check for a set of familiar weather patterns while sailing his sea vessel. That one looks very familiar to me in the far distance."

"Okay." Tom stood in place with a confused brow, staring at the high powered binoculars.

Stu steered the yacht with a smile. "Tom, keep a weather eye, especially paying attention to changes in the wind and the seas. Go stand by the windows. Tell me, what ya see."

"Okay." He slowly turned with a puzzled brow and slowly strolled back to the large window and stopped, standing in place, lifting the pair of high powered binoculars up and into his eyelids. He saw the light blue sky, the white clouds and the deep blue ocean.

"What are the shapes of the sky clouds, Tom?" Austin smiled and stared at the back spine on Tom.

Tom said with a smile. "Clouds, white."

"Do they appear like spoonsful of marshmallow cream?" Austin grinned at the back spine on Tom.

Tom said with a smile. "Do you mean like the cool whip on top of my banana split at home?"

"Correct, Tom!" Austin grinned.

Tom said with a smile. "No."

Austin turned and grinned to Stu. "Not cumulus."

Tom dropped the binoculars and turned with a worried brow to see Austin. "Is that bad?"

Austin turned and pointed to the window with a stern face at Tom. "Do the clouds resemble animals or people?"

Tom turned with a puzzled brow and lifted the binoculars, studying the clouds. "No."

"Are they pretty flat and straight like plain old white bread?" Austin grinned.

Tom said with a smile. "No."

Austin said. "The clouds are not stratus. Are they black and blue colored?"

"Bingo." Tom said with a smile.

"Nimbus," Stu turned and frowned at Austin and then Frank.

Austin back stepped from the radar screen and moved to the window, stopping and stood beside Tom. He extended a palm with a stern face, seeing the clouds too. "Gimme, Tom." Tom dropped the binoculars and slammed the object into the open palm of Austin in silence, studying the black and blue clouds. Austin lifted and stared through the binoculars with a stern face. "They are nimbostratus clouds with a series of heavy sheets of flat rain that covers the entire once baby blue sky which are easily 18,000 feet high into the stars."

"Storm clouds," Frank frowned at the back spine on Austin and Tom.

He shook his bangs with a smile. "No! Naw! Wrong-o! It is bright with yellow sunlight and pretty with white fluffy clouds right here with the deep blue calm waters." Tom pointed down to the floor and the sky with a smile and a nod.

Stu steered the yacht with a worried brow toward the islands of the Bahamas. "Nimbostratus is with associated bouts of heavy rain, lightning, hail, and a tornado or two."

Tom shook his bangs, pointing down with a smile to the floor. "We're on the ocean, man. No tornadoes on water, only land."

Stu reached and jerked the lever down for faster speed with a stern face and a serious tone. "Belt in, ya'll. We're soaring like a flock of American eagles over the calm ocean seas. Then when we hit the cloud cover, it is going to get real rough."

Tom felt the motion of the engines, tumbling sideways to an empty seat and fell inside the seat, sitting upright and pulled the web netting over a body with a worried brow and a sissy whine. "Wait, don't fucking move. Don't fucking speed, Stu! Don't sail into the gawd damn storm! I can't do the...," he exhaled. "Don't leave me behind, Stu! I'm trying to get this damn thing."

Stu exhaled with annoyance, steering the yacht, "Help, Tom!"

Austin turned and shuffled from the window, leaning down and grabbed the web netting from the sides of the bolted chair with a stern face. Tom slapped at both hands of Austin on the web netting with a sissy whine and an angry face. "I'm not a baby. Back off away from me, Austin!"

Berrington pulled and clipped the netting around the flat chest on Tom, jerking all the straps tight as Sawyer grunted in pain. "Tom's secured." Austin back stepped with a stern face from Tom and spun around, moving back to the radar.

"Roger," Stu steered the yacht with a nod and a stern face, sailing over the clam waters.

"Stu," Austin turned and grinned at the nose profile on Stu. "I'm getting a blip on radar."

Stu steered with a nod and a sneer, "Nessle. We're about sixteen nautical miles out. Break out gear!"

12:28 p.m.

Cabin setting

Tom stood in place and posed in form with a giggle and a grin. "I am Neptune, the god of sea riding my steel dolphin while carrying a trident. That's a pronged spear, Frank," he had retrieved and held three hip daggers from below deck weapons store with a smile.

"Dress, Tom." Stu turned with a sneer and glanced at the semi-naked pale colored body profile on Tom, returning back to see the ocean.

"Gawd! You are so embarrassing, Thomas." Frank moved through the archway with a chuckle and a smile, hauling an armful of new gear from below deck for the rescue mission. Austin followed behind an ass of Frank with an armful of new gear too, wearing a stern face.

"What are these?" Tom lifted and grabbed a two-piece jump suit from the floor with a sour frown.

"Your designer hand sewn Italian outfits." Frank stopped and squatted, placing the new gear over the floor with a chuckle and a grin and stood undressing from the tan and white jumpsuit.

Tom lifted the two garments in each hand to a distorted face with a sissy whine. "White and silver fatigues, ugh and ugly, who made these?"

Stu steered the yacht with a smile. "Good old USA manufacturing, a combination of a frog's man suit that is waterproof..."

"...in case, Thomas falls off the yacht and then starts drowning, because I am not..." Frank quickly dressed in the new gear with a smile and a chuckle at silly Tom.

Tom turned and frowned at Mangrove, "Shut up, Frank!"

Stu pressed on the automatic pilot for a few minutes, back stepping from the wheelhouse, straddling the new gear and dressed. "The silver coating repels moisture. The white flexible wool is for warmth. The color is reflective for both sheath and hiding from Ned."

Tom kicked at each piece of new gear, without dressing, but searched each item with a puzzled brow. "Helmet?" He leaned down and picked up the light wood body suit, dressing over his briefs with a sour frown.

Stu dressed in the light wool body suit first with a smile. "No. Dress, Tom!"

Tom leaned down and lifted one piece of the new ugly gear and dropped it back down onto the floor with a sour frown, "Flippers?" He leaned down and grabbed the light weight silver tinted frog suit with a distorted face and dressed.

Stu dressed in the light weight silver frog suit with a smile. "No."

Tom leaned down and grabbed the vest, sliding it over the frog suit with a sour frown. "Gloves?"

"No." Stu changed his clothes with a smile and viewed see Tom, who was still dressing and whining, as usual.

Austin placed the knife, his Ghost, the rope, and the First Aid kit into the hidden pockets of the utility vest and turned, moving to assist Sawyer with the equipment also.

He frowned with a sissy whine again. "Don't need all this crap! This is an easy fucking ass-kicking QA rescue mission. Get away from me, Austin!" Tom side stepped from Berrington, zipping and slapping down all the metal prongs in place with a sour frown.

"Done," Frank tossed both his arms into the air with a smile and a chuckle, dressing first among his brothers, watching Tom.

Stu turned and shuffled back to the pilot chair, reaching and turned off the autopilot, grabbing the steering wheel and sailed the yacht. "Excellent! Everyone sit and rest. I will educate you on the real god of the sea."

"Stuart Thant Gage, III." Tom turned with a laugh and a smile and strolled to an empty seat, sitting with a huff of boredom and annoyance, looking at the nose profile on Stu.

Stu steered the yacht over the calm seas, shaking a bald skull. "The planet," chuckling. "On Earth, the seawater is one continuous mass of matter. Two-thirds surface on the planet is covered by sea water, which is made up of ninety nine percent of the entire water supply."

Tom frowned. "Joy."

Stu steered the yacht with a smile, "The temperatures of sea water vary. It is coldest at the surface in polar salinity. The saltiest water is the desert bound Red Sea."

Tom frowned, "Do you mean the Dead Sea?"

Stu steered the yacht with a frown, "No, Tom! The Red Sea is the proper body of water."

Frank turned with a smile and stood by the radar screen again. "Tom hasn't heard about that one, since it's not listed inside one of his latest science fiction e-novels. Am I not correct, Thomas?"

Stu steered the yacht with a smile, "Back to the sea!"

Tom giggled with a grin. "We're on the sea, man."

Stu smiled. "Back to the salt, the least salty is the Baltic Sea..."

"The Baltic Sea is located in the Mediterranean." Tom nodded with a smile.

Stu said. "The Baltic Sea has the highest inflow of fresh waters, coming from a series of surroundings fresh water rivers."

Tom wiggled an ass inside the hard seat with a sour frown. "Fascinating, Mr. non-Spock. The asinine point of your stupid boring history lesson is..."

"My point is the sea is an amazing resource which has given us our rescue machinery, the yacht."

Tom frowned, "It is a big boat which costs millions and millions of dollars. Anyone can own a yacht, Stu."

Stu smiled. "The tiny black particles are found inside the rocks, the soil, and the deposits which are deep down underneath the sea. The deposits are called titanium. The fourth most common metal on Earth is aluminum. The first is iron and then magnesium."

Tom stood with a sour frown and turned, moving to the one of the windows. "Another next?"

Stu steered with a smile. "The titanium compound is formed by ores which are called rutile and ilmenite."

Tom halted and stood beside the wheelhouse, jabbing a finger at the nose profile on Gage with a sour frown. "He reads way too damn much. You need another shitty hobby Gage or more work at Quartet Associates. You have too much fucking time on your hands, Big Man," chuckling with Austin and Frank.

Stu turned and yelled at Tom. "Tom, stop touching that device. Sit back down, now."

"Ya mean this?" Tom reached and gently tapped on the knob of the drawer with a grin and a giggle.

"Sit, pup," Austin exhaled with a huff of annoyance, standing with a stern face in front of the radar screen.

Tom turned with a sour frown and moved from the steering bow to one of the side windows, sitting inside an empty seat and played with the electronic level of the window. The window opened and closed.

Frank looked up with a sour frown to see the rear blonde skull on Tom, "Your boat, Austin?"

Austin looked up with a stern face to see the window as it opened and closed, "I'll buy another one, if he ruins it. I'm a billionaire, remember?"

Stu steered with a smile, "When was I..."

"...on Earth, I highly question your mental thought process, Stu."

Frank frowned. "Shut up, Tom."

Austin looked down with a grin, staring at the radar screen, "Rutile."

Stu steered with a smile. "The black sand is made of rutile. This ore consists of titanium dioxide." He watched the waves, the soaring dolphins, and the monitor for Nessle's ship. "It was discovered in the year 1791 by the English chemist, William Gregor at the beach on Manaccan in Cornwall, England."

Tom played with the window lever, watching the soaring dolphins in the air, "Fascinating shit, Mr. Non-Spock!"

Stu steered with a smile, "Titanium weighs less than steel and is both stronger and faster for sails. It uses less fuel and less materials partial providing an advantage of great speediness."

Tom giggled with a grin, "To catch a thief, a murderer, a robber, an evil enemy."

"Quiet, Tom." Frank frowned down at the radar screen.

"Titanium is also more expensive than steel, Stuart," Tom nodded with a smile, since he liked to read other articles plus his science fiction novels.

Frank smiled down at the radar screen, "Billionaires."

"Right, Money Man." Austin smiled down at the radar screen too.

Stu steered with a smile. "Strength and lightness makes titanium useful. The alloys remain strong at very high temperatures up to 1,100 degrees Fahrenheit."

Tom turned and frowned at Gage, "Fascinating shit, Mr. Non-Spock."

Frank stared down with a sour frown at the radar, "Stop saying that, Tom!"

Tom stood upright from the chair and turned with a smile, tossing both arms into the air, dancing side to side with a laugh to his brothers. "Saying what, Mangrove? What am I fuckingly saying to irritate you, Frank? Nothing! Since, Stu is dominating the entire fuck ass breathing conversation with the gawd dawn titanium dioxide properties."

Stu steered the yacht with a smile, "Regular plastics break down from the ultraviolet sunlight. So I added poly vinyl chloride or PVC to all the window frames on Austin's yacht, preventing damage from bright and dangerous sun rays."

"Boat glows." Tom dropped the arms and sat back down in the chair, turning with a sour frown, reaching with a hand and played with the window level.

Stu steered the yacht with a smile, "The titanium dioxide reflects light, so its looks opaque. The white doesn't discolor. The titanium dioxide powder is a brilliant white color, because it reflects almost all the different colors of the spectrum. In fact, better deflecting rays than almost any other substance, the natural pigment is white."

Tom frowned at the window and the ocean waves, "Boat glows in the dark, too."

Austin smiled down at the radar. "The lawyer is correct."

Stu steered with a smile, "Titanium is most commonly used in industry dyes, paints, plastics, ceramics, cosmetics, glassware, inks, paper, rubber, golf clubs..."

"Breathe, Gage," Tom looked down with a sour frown, grabbing the bottled water that he had stolen from the cargo bay down below the deck during the bathroom break. He cracked opened the lid, sipping on the warm water.

Stu steered with a nod and a smile, "Sporting equipment, tennis rackets, bicycle frames, kitchen knives..."

Tom swallowed the water then said with a smile and a nod, "Don't cook, only eat!"

Frank frowned down at the radar screen, "Shut up, Tom!"

Stu steered with a nod and a smile. "Frying pans, jewelry, rings, watches..."

"Time's up, Gage," Tom looked down at his designer wrist watch with a sour frown, sipping on the water bottle.

Stu grinned, "Toothpaste."

Tom stood from the chair, waving a skull and a free hand, "Gawd! I'm going to die from eating titanium dioxide or this boring conversation, whichever comes first in my life on this little boat of Austin's," giggling with a grin. He sat back down in the chair and sipped on the bottle of warm water.

"You should add Concorde jet golf clubs to that list, Stu." Frank stared down at the radar screen.

Stu steered with a nod, "Out of business."

"Know that! They died when they consumed the toothpaste and acid drops from the titanium metal sparks," Tom chuckled.

Frank frowned down at the radar screen, "Shut up, Tom."

Stu steered with a nod and a smile. "The biomedical engineers use titanium to construct artificial body parts, including hip joints, eyeglasses, eye frames, dentures, and bone implants in the jaw line."

Tom reached and gently touched a jaw line with a sour frown, "Ouchie."

Frank turned and winked to Sawyer. "Floss every day, Tom."

Tom turned and frowned at mangrove, "Shut up, Frank."

Stu steered the yacht with a smile, "In fifth century BC..."

Tom smiled, "Before Christ."

Stu steered with a smile, "The Parthenon on the acropolis of Athens, Greece was found constructed using a set of titanium rods."

"That's it." Tom stood with a sour frown and reached, wiggling and pulled out his Ghost from the utility belt, holding it with one hand. He slowly lifted and aimed the barrel at Stu.

Frank looked up with a gasp and turned, dashing toward Tom, slapping the Ghost down to the deck floor with a sour frown and a sneer, "Dangerous move, Tom." He shoved Tom back down into the chair, back stepping and turned, dashing back to the radar screen.

Austin looked up with a stern face and a deadly tone to see Tom. "Sit and stay put, Tom. I am not repeating that order again."

Tom quietly sat, turning with a sour frown a set of soft curses and moved a naked hand to the electric window again. The window opened and closed.

Stu steered the yacht with a smile. "In today's construction industry, all modern buildings, including roof tops, window frames, and ventilators, possess titanium components."

"Lovely, Stu." Tom whispered with a sour frown.

Stu steered with a smile. "One of the most important properties of titanium is its ability to operate in very harsh environments. It can withstand..."

Tom giggled with a grin, "Stuart Thant Gage, the third." The window closed.

Stu steered with a smile, "Unlike the element of steel, titanium can withstand corrosive chemicals, acids, and saltwater."

Tom frowned, "I believe you are back at square one, Big Man." The window opened.

Stu steered with a smile, "Modern industries, such as, brewing facilities and food production and papermaking and petrochemical plants and desalination plants have replaced steel with titanium."

Tom nodded with a sour frown, "Good for them." The window opened.

Stu steered with a smile. "Many car parts are made from titanium components also. They need to work continuously at high speeds and high temperatures within the suspension springs and the exhaust systems."

Tom frowned, "Goody-goody." The window closed.

Stu turned and smiled at the hair roots on Berrington. "Austin, your geniuses used a titanium submarine haul."

Austin stared down at the radar screen. "So?"

Stu frowned. "You had asked me about the functions of titanium, don't you remember, Austin?"

Tom chuckled with a smile. "Strength, lightness, faster, resistant to saltwater, haven't you been listening? Geez, you're our brilliant fearless fucking ass leader of the hard ass Quartet."

Stu turned back with a smile to steer the yacht, "Since titanium doesn't react with saltwater, the metal won't produce toxic chemicals that are harmful to fish and other marine life."

Tom frowned, "Does it kill sharks?" the window opened.

Frank smiled down at the radar screen, "We do."

Tom frowned, "Forget him! Does it kill sharks?" the window closed.

"Slow here, Stu." Austin pointed with a stern face down to the radar screen. He wasn't a professional sailor but had spent plenty of time on the ocean, recognizing the trouble.

Stu stopped the engines allowing the yacht to drift over the calm seas and turned to see Austin. "The propellers are titanium also."

Tom frowned, "Shut up, Stu." The window opened.

Stu moved to Austin with a smile. "Even metals that are fairly resistant to the effects of saltwater are damaged by the buffeting of the waves. When a propeller spins in the ocean, it heats the water around it, creating bubbles that eat away the metal. This action is called a cavitation. The motion makes the propeller light and the submarine faster."

"Cavitation," Frank stared with a stern face at the radar screen.

Stu said. "A submarine is designed to stay submerged for three years, without resurfacing."

"Not on my tour of duty," Frank stared down with a laugh at the radar screen.

Stu grinned at the nose profiles of Frank and Austin, moving closer, "This is our new tour of duty, at least for the next hour."

Austin pointed down with a stern face to the radar screen and then looked up to see the ocean water. "Ned's on the radar, Stu. What's the master plan?"

Stu stopped next to Austin, looking down with a stern face to see the radar screen. "Ram it."

Frank looked up with a worried brow, turning and shuffled next to Austin, looking down at the long range radar screen for a glance and up to see Stu with a worried brow. "We use a battering ram like Troy did in the war."

Stu nodded with a grin to Austin and Frank, "Yes."

Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Austin, "No."

Stu nodded with a grin to Austin and Frank, "Yes, ram it."

Tom frowned with a worried brow, working the electric window with nervousness of the new QA mission, "Geez, I'm going to die and see Almighty God, Brother Jesus, and all my heavenly Angels in a few more minutes."

"Amen." Stu turned and smiled at Tom.

Frank shook a skull with a worried brow too but he had full confidence in his brother Stu, "We won't, Tom."

Tom stood from the chair, dropping down the empty water bottle, shaking both a skull and two hands with a sour frown. "I vote no here."

Stu turned and frowned to Sawyer, "You are out voted here, Tom."

Austin turned and frowned at Stu, "I don't possess a PhD in engineering, Stu. But your plan seems to show a few tea tiny flaws."

Tom bounced up and down with great fear, waving both his arms in the air, nodding a worried brow. "Big gigantic fucking flaws, like me dying."

Austin frowned at Stu. "A two-inch hole..."

"...just a few feet below the waterline can sink a thirty-foot boat in a few minutes. Know that, Austin," Stu nodded with a grin. Austin reached and grabbed the high powered binoculars, turning to view the other yacht. Stu said, "The Storm uses the most common construction material which is fiberglass, followed by aluminum, steel, carbon fibre, and ferrocement. Ferrocement is the rarest material that is used inside buildings and sculptures. The composites are made up cement, sand, water, and wire combination which is often called a thin shell. Ferrocement has great strength, is fireproof, and doesn't rust or rot. The disadvantage is the construction is high labor intensive of personnel, making it expensive for any type of industrial application, along with the extreme high insurance costs."

Frank frowned at Stu, "We are?"

Stu grinned with a nod, "Ferrocement."

Tom danced side to side with a giggle and a grin at the nose profile on Austin. "Your insurance rates must be heavenly to pay, Austin."

"Frank pays my insurance." Austin lowered the binoculars with a grin and faced Tom.

Tom gasped at the back spine on his brother, "Frank? Mangrove, you pay his boat insurance?"

Frank grinned with a nod and a wink to Stu and Austin. "Of course, you do, also."

Tom parted his lips, "What the fucking hell?"

Frank nodded with a smile to Austin and Stu. "We all do. This is a Quartet Associates acquired asset sea craft."

Tom shook his bangs with a sour frown. "A fucking company speed boat. Hell, no, I didn't vote on this gawd dawn piece of shiny flying fancy pile of expensive bricks."

Frank smiled with a nod and a wink to Austin and Stu. "Yes, you did."

Tom danced side to side, punching a finger into an open palm with a sour frown, "Fucking when did I vote for that, Mangrove? I wanna review the specific gawd damn board meetings for that fuckingly executive decision right now."

Austin turned and sneered at Sawyer, "Later, Tom!"

Tom moved ahead to the back spine on Mangrove with a sour frown, waving both his arms into the air. "Now, Frank! I want it right now."

Frank turned and stared down with a stern face back at the radar. "Shut up, Tom."

Stu turned and moved to the wheelhouse, "The economical bottom line, ferrocement is both strong and flexible giving us way much more supremacy over a fiberglass hull."

Austin turned and stared at the nose profile on Stu, "Your plan?"

Stu swept an arm to the side with a smile and a nod. "Strike, the Storm."

Tom halted in place, shaking his bangs and his hands. "No, that's stroke the waves, Stu, like in back home to Coral Beach, right now."

Frank turned and narrowed his eyelids, searching for the yacht over the calm seas with a sour frown. "Shut up, Tom."

Stu nodded with a grin to Austin, "Ram him across the bow and below the stern tip and then slap our more powerful engines in reverse. Gotcha will fly backward before the suction of water..."

Tom shook his bangs and his hands with a worried brow, "Naw, that plan is too risky for my life. My life is important here."

Austin nodded with a smile to Stu, "It might work. How much time..."

"...before I die?" Tom looked down with a worried brow to see his designer wrist watch.

Stu exhaled, "I would calculate close to thirty-eight minutes and some seconds before we breach."

Tom bounced up and down, waving both a skull and both arms with a worried brow and a sissy whine. "Not long enough for me..."

Stu nodded with a grin to Austin. "Find the girl, kill Ned, and get out."

Austin grinned. "Kill Ned, find the girl, and get out."

Frank turned and lifted a palm with a grin. "I wanna kill Ned."

Tom looked up to see each brother and waved both hands in the air with a smile. "I got a new plan, ya'll. Forget about Ned! As a matter of fact, let's forget the girl too. Why do need her? I got all my money back into the bank. Right? Right!" He pressed both hands down over his vest with a smile and a nod to his brothers.

Austin turned and sneered at Tom. "The goddess, we are here to rescue Athena, Tom."

Frank turned around with a frown at Sawyer. "She needs our help, Tom."

Tom tossed both arms into the air with a nod and a smile. "Hold up! We need to re-analysis this QA mission. I got my money. I don't want to die. I don't like water, sun, or sharks..."

Stu pointed to the outside deck with a chuckle and a smile. "Pull out the dinghy! Tom can sail back home to Coral Gables right now."

Tom shook his bangs and waved both arms with a sour frown. "No! I do not approve of that plan, either. Let us stop the boat and think about this situation, speaking out loud between the four of us. Who is in favor of my idea? Raise your hand over your skull!" He lifted both arms into the air, seeing no other arms or hands.

Frank pointed with a smile and a laugh to the other yacht, "Too late, Thomas! There, she blows."

The yacht was named the Storm. I was one hundred and fifteen feet of mega gleaning white colored fiberglass that glistened within the afternoon Florida sun. The super powered eighty feet yacht of Austin was another millionaire, traveling toward the islands of the Bahamas for a day of sun and fun.

the Storm

US waters within the Atlantic Ocean

Top deck setting

Hot temperatures with partly sunny

12:33 p.m.

The visibility was ten miles clear. The winds blew north at six miles-per-hour. The barometer gauge read 29.82 inches with a steady light breeze gale.

Inside the cockpit of the mega yacht, Ned stood in front of the window, watching the numerous small wavelets and crests water appear and disappear over the Atlantic Ocean from the light breeze for a trip to the islands of the Bahamas. He didn't notice a smaller ship, speeding up into his rotor blades.

Boats were not equipped with a set of rear view mirrors like a street automobile, except the radar screen was blinking in color and beeping in loud tones as Ned ignored the sounds and the colors.

Instead, he turned and moved, double checking the automatic cruise control system as the autopilot gauge continued to function properly, heading in a direct line into the open water along the international lines, almost clearing from the US water lanes. The sky was clear. The ocean water was calm. The seagulls had all returned back to the land boundaries of the US mainland.

Ned had purchased the used yacht with a set of basic accommodations of a luxurious cruiser that were built inside three double-berth cabins, a saloon with a galley along with comfortable seating for ten hot bodies. The engine possessed last year's navigation equipment and steering on the first deck. All the sea decks operated on automation, including the electrical lights and re-charging batteries for any sea emergencies.

Ned could live on the water for three weeks without docking in a sea port for ship stores and food supplies. After this short but necessary trip to the Bahamas, his next port of call would be Mexico City, where the white beaches were hot along with the girls.

Ned had the yacht prepped for a future escape from the island of Big Pine Key, going to the islands of the Bahamas before he killed Jetta. His trip started sooner than expected. Thank the Roman, Greek, and Christian gods that he paid good money for a personal bodyguard to guard his person. He was warned about the impending bloody attack by the Quartet Assholes before one of the QA helicopters left the air space of Coral Beach.

The nosy biological brother of Jetta provided good information on Ned. Ned should've seen that mistake coming like a right hook, leaving a black eye. Jetta loved her brother, sending him money and drugs all hours, days, and weeks under a watchful eye of Ned.

Love was blind as the old saying went.

But everything went as planned with a special thank you to one of the devoted body guards of Ned. The body guard seemed to enjoy killing poor stupid Jon as Ned seemed to enjoy killing Fabian. And Fabian had enjoyed his final kill, too.

So, the cycle was completed.

Ned thought of the pod of sharks, swimming around the sunken houseboat. The pod of sharks was probably floated and tired of swimming after eating all the flesh and bone corpses over pass few minutes.

Ned's only regret was leaving Hera, his new goddess of pleasure. He couldn't risk the waiting time of her return, since Hera was working her physician shift at the local hospital in Miami.

He had removed all the furniture and the electronic equipment from one of the smaller cabins, since the invisible colored beam of Athena could create an electronic disturbance.

Fabian had hinted at that scientific possibility, while he was anticipating the move of the base operations from the city of the Miami to the one of the islands of the Bahamas for a short respite as a set of two low key visitors for six months until the sizzling heat died down within South Florida. Then Fabian would have moved back to the city of Ft. Lauderdale and set up the new operation and began the heist recovery project for the second round.

Fabian was a genius nut. His only flaw was the professor didn't know when to quit, when enough was enough. So Ned had made that final decision for him.

"Sleep well, Duncan." Nessle turned with a snort and a grin, moving across the floor of the cockpit, needing to check on his next victim Athena. He reached and grabbed the door handle.

The door opened.

He turned with a smile and moved down the stairs, strolling down the narrow corridor to the cabin rooms.

The selected hostage-held sleeping cabin contained a single wooden chair, not a piece of steel frame. Ned was concerned that a wave of her electromagnetic super power would become activated inside the tiny ship which was sailing in the middle of a gigantic ocean of water. He regretted moving the bed, wanting so desperately to fuck the pretty love goddess. But there was a more important matter, requiring his attention like seeing the sunrise tomorrow.

Always, Athena was named after the Roman war goddess, not Aphrodite, the love deity. He remembered Fabian correcting his lack of Ancient World History mythology. That was another reason, not to fuck the girl. Since her Roman name translated into war.

Below deck setting

Interior sleeping cabin of Athena

12:38 p.m.

The door opened.

Ned stood inside the interior compartment without a window of sunshine and a set of taped air vents. Athena was tied down into a chair. She was bounded by a set of double knotted cloths of soft cotton, wet for double resistance at her ankles. Her wrists were pulled back and wrapped around the back of the chair. "How you are doing, doll?" Ned smiled with a chuckle, staring at her prettiness.

She shook her golden colored curls with a sneer, "Lousy, sir, why are doing this to me?"

Ned chuckled, "You have beauty with no brains. I thought you would have figured it all out by now."

She sneered. "The ninety million dollars, you robbed from all the local Miami banks. Yes, I did."

He grinned with a chuckle. "Actually, you are the bank robbery. I'm only the carrier pigeon, scooting up the money bags."

She frowned. "You used me."

"Ah, Marcus told on me."

She nodded with a grin. "Yes, Marcus told me."

"You can talk, pout, and complain, after we anchor on the main island of the Bahamas to the locate law enforcement authorities."

"You don't need me anymore. I'm surprised you haven't tossed me off the bow."

"Your serviced me and my pocketbook very, very well. However, I got a text. My castle was hit, destroyed, and captured by the Quartet."

She looked down with a confused brow at the floor and Ned, "The Quartet, they're not law agents."

He shook a skull with a sour frown. "Right and wrong, doll! Quartet Assholes is an international security company with lots of spy equipment and more snitches, tattle tales, spies, ex-military, and police officers than dead ole Bin Laden. Badass Berrington has a vengeance against criminals, especially ones escaping the USA. Berrington thinks he's an earth god on a personal mission to find the bad guys and then dispose of him or her by his own naked hands."

She frowned. "Austin sounds like a zealot."

"Americans love drama. Don't you watch television, doll?"

"Yeah, drama."

"Do you recall the 'angel of death' girl and the Quartet?"

"She was found innocent by a court of law. The Quartet represented her as legal counsel. They are four very powerful men."

"They also found more than they bargained for but covered it up."

She shook her golden curls. "I don't understand."

"All you need to understand is your girly superpowers are real and work day, night, rain, shine, hail or blizzard like the dependable US post mail carrier."

She shook her golden curls. "I don't possess superpowers, sir."

He smiled. "Fabian."

She frowned. "You mean Professor Fabian Icarius?"

"Teacher fag and genius physics, he figured you out, your powers. He scattered them into the electrical outlets at the local targeted banks that you serviced. You short circuited every single alarm system."

She gasped, "Impossible."

"You are shielded with an aura that is colored in pink that makes your dark skin glow. So, you are invisible to the human naked eye. The aura is an electromagnetic wave, floating around, besides, behind, above, below, and through your biological body. The electronic waves send out photons. The little buggers collide with the atoms. As you learned from your physics class, atoms break down into protons and neutrons. Your pink photons scatter into the air waves, neutralizing all electrical protons and neutrons that were generated from a set of mechanical equipment, hence the alarm inside the targeted bank. For example, when you and I sit inside those comfortable chairs and waited and watched the bank robbers steal the money bags in the dark," chuckling.

She shook her golden curls. "I don't believe you."

"When you enter the containment field of the perimeter of the alarm, your photons demagnetize the protective grid while allowing Fabian's Fags," Ned chuckled. "Get it, his boys. His gay boyfriends strolled into the targeted bank, wearing a mask and carrying a toy gun..."

She parted her lips, "Those weapons were play toys."

He nodded with a chuckle, "Purchased at the local store around the street corner for one dollar and sixty-five cents with ten percent tax." Ned laughed. "The toys were real enough for the bank customers and the bank employees to freakingly freak-out. The bank managers were handpicked, seduced, and blackmailed by a team of my pretty whores for the specific big pickup day by the armed delivery truck."

"You planned everything very well."

"Everything only worked very well, because of you and your magic powers."

"Where's Professor Icarius?"

"Getting his just rewards, now."

She gasped. "What?"

He nodded with a chuckle, "You're lucky that I'm in charge of this slick bank operation, not Fabian."

"I'm not sure about that. You're still going to kill me. Why wait?"

He shook a skull with a worried brow. "Not right now! It will be after I have cleared the international water and have docked safely at the port in the Bahamas then the Quartet Assholes can't touch me ever."

She smirked, "They'll find you. They have both the time and the money, hunting you down for the evil things you did."

"Not today! They're interviewing a batch of stoned and drunk young kids at my castle, taking hours, maybe days. I also got a head start with my super-fast new yacht."

"You just told me. They're very good hunting the bad guys."

Ned laughed. "I take it back. You have some brains and lots of guts."

She nodded with a smirk, "I'm smart enough to understand that you will be punished by someone. It could be the Bahamas authorities, the US officials, the Quartet brother, or the one and only God Almighty for all the vicious murders of innocent people."

"Murders? Marcus again, that damn kid talked way too much. I should've fed him to the sharks."

"Sharks, an efficient weapon of mass destruction."

Ned laughed. "You're quite a quick quark."

She frowned, "Quark?"

"Fabian called you, a quark..."

The sound of boom hit the boat and invaded the conversation between Ned and Athena.

Her chair wobbled side to side, flipping down over the soft carpet as she screamed in fear and pain. "Untie me. Please let me go. Get me out of this chair. The boat is sinking." She jerked side to side over the carpet, struggling within her bonds without breaking free.

Ned lost balance and slammed a shoulder into the port wall, falling over and landed down on top of his kneecaps. He lifted a face from the carpet and wiped off the blood from a broken nose, exhaling with a huff of worry, blinking his eyelids from a dizzy head, "Jeezus, what hit us?"

A few minutes earlier

Gotcha!

Interior cockpit setting of the Quartet

12:33 p.m.

Austin turned and frowned at the nose profile on Gage, "How much time before we impact the Storm, Stu?"

Stu fiddled with the levers and buttons on the yacht as it slowly drifted side to side over the water, squatting down to the lower cabin. He opened the door and reached inside, pulling out a rolled up document and stood, side stepping and unrolled the document. "Look at this!"

Tom turned and shuffled toward the closed hatchway with a sissy whine and worried brow. "I'm going to die."

Frank stared at the ocean water and the other yacht with a worried brow too, "Shut up, Tom!"

Tom flung both hands into the air with a sissy whine, moving ahead towards the closed hatchway door, "I'm going to get ate by a ginormous hungry white big finned shark with a set of little baby sharks like in that awesome Hollywood movie," he halted and turned with a grin and a giggle to see the rear skull of Frank. "Did you see that movie, Frank?"

Frank stared at the ocean water and the other yacht with a worried brow, "We all saw that shark movie, Tom."

Austin turned and sneered at Sawyer, moving closer to Stu. "Sit down, Tom!"

Sawyer spun around and sat down inside the closest bolted chair against the gray naked wall with a worried brow, looking down at his hands with a loud voice. "Did I update my will? Yes! I did that last month. When I had to defend the angel of death girl, I barely survived. I recall vividly in living colors. I'm leaving everything to Jane. I will miss her, so much. I love her, so much," he exhaled with a sigh of sorrow and sadness.

Frank turned with a stern face and moved ahead, stopping and stood next to Austin, staring down at the floor plans of Ned's yacht, "Be quiet, Tom!"

Austin stopped and stood next to Stu, pointing down at the floor plans with a stern face, "Where could the girl be, Stu?"

Stu frowned down at the floor plans too, "She could be anywhere on that yacht."

Austin said. "Logical speaking, I mean based on her special abilities..."

"What abilities?" Tom looked up with a puzzled brow to the back spines of his brothers. His brothers crowed around the wheelhouse, reviewing the internal floor plans of Ned's yacht.

Stu exhaled, "An electromagnetic power is directly generated from the atmospheric charges between the clouds and the sunlight."

Tom stood upright from the chair and waved both his bangs and his hands with a smile. "Yeah, right! Hey! She can save me. I'm not going to die either. Right? Right!" He slapped a chest with a grin and a giggle, dancing side to side with a laugh, "Gotcha!"

Frank stared down at the floor plans with a sour frown. "Shut up, Tom!"

Stu exhaled. "Sit tight, Tom!"

Tom sat back down into the bolted chair with a grin and a giggle, tapping on the space between his legs with a smile and a nod. "Yeah, she can get me out of this fucking ass mess with her awesome-ness superpowers like...like an alien princess or a Tele queen like Starra, my science fiction girlfriend. Wow! This is like a real science fiction tale come true for me."

Austin stared down with a stern face at the floor plans. "Calm down, Tom."

Stu pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans. "There are three sleeping cabins, a saloon, a galley, and an engine room."

Austin pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans, "Not the galley..."

Frank pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans, "Definitely, not the engine room."

"Why not?" Tom frowned at the back spines of his brothers.

Stu pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans. "Or the wet bar, there's too much metal and mechanic equipment pieces."

Tom frowned, "How so?"

Stu nodded with a stern face, "Plasma, CD, speakers, DVD..."

Tom smiled. "Billiard balls, too."

Frank frowned at the floor plans, "Ignore him."

Austin pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans. "I would say one of the sleeping cabins. There are three on the second deck."

Frank said with a worried brow to the floor plans, "Thirty-eight minutes..."

"...and some seconds," Stu nodded down to the floor plans, "Not much time to find Athena."

Austin smirked down at the floor plans. "Or kill Ned."

Stu pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans. "See this! I'm going to ram the cubby, the front part of the hull with the raised roof which is used for stored equipment items."

Frank frowned at the baldness of Stu, "Is there really heavy equipment inside the cubby, Stu?"

Stu looked up with a smile and a nod to see Frank, "Usually, the equipment consists of stuff like a couple of sea bikes, a rescue raft, a dinghy, sailing..."

Frank shook his skull, "Not good, Stu!"

Stu grinned, "Very good, Frank! The radar shows the cubby is empty. No generated heat on the sonar screen."

Austin nodded down to the floor plans, "There will be compressed air inside the cubby, Stu."

Stu chuckled, "Then we thrust forward and then reverse out like my awesome dick."

Austin frowned down at the floor plans, "How much damage we will sustain to our surviving bow?"

Stu grinned. "Minimal!"

Austin shook his skull, "Impossible, Stu!"

Stu smiled. "Our bow is doubly reinforced with ferrocement along with seven inch strips of titanium."

Tom stood upright from the chair and then reseated from Austin's command, bouncing inside the chair with a smile and a laugh, "The strongest metal in the world, stupid leader of the Quartet," chuckling with Frank and Stu.

Frank looked up with a smile and a nod to see Tom. "I'm impressed with both Tom and Stu."

Stu pointed down with a stern face to the floor plans. "Our yacht has a twin-keel layout that sits us upright out of the water, Austin."

Austin looked up with a smile to see the outside deck and then Stu, "A special hull design, very good, Stu."

Stu side stepped and stood in front of the wheelhouse with the steering column, pressing the buttons with a smile and a nod. The yacht moved ahead through the waters at a low speed. "I'm using it to get us more time. I'll jerk the keels up right before impact and then fire the boosters in reverse. Then I'll drop us right back down into the ocean for a swift retreat back home to the Homestead marina."

Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Austin, "Dangerous."

Austin turned and smiled to Frank, "One helluva of a punch."

Stu leaned over the counter and grabbed the small objects, turning and tossed an object to each brother with a smile and a nod, "One helluva of a bang. Here ya go!"

Frank captured and stared down at the small object with a confused brow, "A pair of ear plugs?"

Stu turned and moved to one of the gray naked walls, grabbing another set of larger objects with a chuckle and a smile. "Since, Almighty God, Bro Jesus Christ, The Holy Spirit, and all our heavenly angels are going to hear this song." He spun around to face the built-in locker and moved ahead, stopping and stood in place. He opened the door and reached inside, lifting out, dropping down a set of larger objects over the floor with a smile.

Frank turned and stared with a confused brow at the larger objects, "Life jackets?"

Tom stood upright from the chair and lifted an arm into the air with a nod, moving ahead toward a different set of larger objects that was mounted on the side wall, "I want one. I don't wanna drown." He stopped and stood in place, reaching out, grabbing the life vest, tossing over his utility vest with worry.

"I only wish." Frank back stepped from the counter and spun around, moving ahead towards the pile of objects on the floor, stooped down, and squatted, grabbing one and stood upright to dress with a laugh and a smile.

"Shut up, Frank! You'll jinx me. Then, I'll die." Tom spun around with a sour frown and lifted both arms into the air, dressing in the life jacket first and moved across the floor and stood beside Frank with a sour frown.

Stu shook a bald skull, jabbing a finger down to the other objects on the floor. "Not those jackets, Tom! Use those over here on the floor."

Tom looked down with a puzzled brow to see the new objects. "A body vest?"

Austin grinned down at the body vests on the floor and Stu. "There's only Ned on the ship. She's automated, Stu."

Stu winked with a chuckle to Austin. "One bullet hurts a lot."

Tom squatted with a nod and grabbed one of the body vests, standing and dressed it over the life jacket and his utility vest. "Right, one bullet kisses you into death." He slapped a chest with a cough. "I am ready."

Frank turned with a stern face and pointed at the window, "We are approaching the Storm."

"How apropos?" Stu smiled as Gotcha slowly passed by the Storm, moving at fifteen knots. Ned stood inside the internal cockpit of his yacht, staring out the window and did not wave or acknowledge the other sailing vessel. Then Stu steered and turned the yacht portside into the wind for fifty feet, maneuvering a perpendicular course toward the Storm. He slows down waiting for the prey to enter the trap. "Echo sounding?"

Austin side stepped and stood with a stern face, looking down into the deep sea sonar. "No mammals, dolphins, sharks, or whales."

Stu steered the yacht with a stern face, "Good. Radar?"

Austin side stepped and stood, looking down with a smile at the surface radar, "There is only one ping between us and the open waters."

"Our prey approacheth," Frank turned with a smile and moved, sitting inside an empty seat and webbed the netting around a body for protection of the impact into the Storm.

"Counting backwards from ten," Stu steered the yacht with stern face, fiddling with the buttons.

Tom spun around with a worried brow and dashed ahead towards the closed hatchway that led out onto the open deck of the yacht. "I want out now."

Frank pulled the straps on the netting inside his seat with a sour frown, "Too late, Tom."

"Nine." Stu steered the yacht toward the Storm, yelling with a laugh, "Deploy the dinghy for Tom."

"Sit down, Tom!" Austin turned and frowned at the ass on Tom.

"I want off, right now." Tom continued his escape towards the outside hatchway with a worried brow. "I want outta of here, right now."

Austin back stepped from the counter with a sneer and spun around, dashing across the room and leaped into the air, landing on one of the running back legs on Tom with a grunt as both the bodies descended down and hit the hard floor with a huff of pain. Austin climbed over and rested on top on Tom for both love and protection.

"Seven." Stu steered the yacht with a stern face into the broad side of the Storm, pressing the levers.

"Tie him down!" Frank reached over and pulled out the set of ropes from his utility vest, tossing the item to Austin. Austin raised a hand and caught the rope, lowering the item and untied the knots.

"Four." Stu steered the yacht with a warning yell.

He shouted with a worried brow. "Get the fuck off of me, Austin! I don't fucking wanna die here on your fucking little damn boat." Tom struggled side to side on the floor underneath the body of Austin. Austin grabbed each flinging limb on Tom and tied the rope around the entire body of Sawyer with a sneer.

"Three." Stu steered the yacht toward the broad side of the Storm with the warning yell.

"Stop the gawd damn yacht, right now! I want off right now," Tom kicked with both his legs and yelled with a huff as Austin rested over the back spine on Tom for the upcoming impact of two metal machines inside the middle of the ocean.

"Do you see the face of Ned inside the cockpit, Frank?" Stu steered the yacht toward the Storm, pressing the buttons.

"No sign." Frank turned and stared at the ship with a pair of the high powered binoculars.

"Two." Stu steered the yacht toward the Storm with a stern face.

"Take me home, Stu!" Tom yelled with fear, kicking his body underneath the resting body of Austin.

"One," Stu yelled as the yacht hit into the Storm.

The loud boom sounded throughout the cockpit as Gotcha continued to plow and scrape into the side steel metal of the Storm.

"Status?" Stu dropped the levers and anchored the two boats within the scraping metal for a short period of time.

Austin shoved the collar bone on Tom down into the floor with a sneer, standing upright from Tom and the floor with a loud grunt and a stern face and turned to scan the outside deck of the collision. "We have buoyancy, Stu."

"Drop the ramp. Drop the ramp," Stu pressed the buttons, ensuring that the yacht did not glide backward from the Storm. Austin turned and dashed out the cockpit to drop the ramp metal between the two yachts for foot running over the water and onto the Ned's boat.

Tom was tied down with the rope, resting face first on the floor with a sissy whine. "We're sinking. The boat is sinking. I'm going to die. I love you, Jane, so much."

Frank un-webbed his netting and stood from his chair, running and squatted over Tom, un-wrapping the nice sailor's bow with a sour frown. "Shut up, Tom." He stood and ran to the cockpit door, exiting from the cockpit.

"Clear the cockpit. Clear the cockpit," Stu pressed the levers with his command.

Austin returned and stood inside the open hatchway with a stern face. "Roll out! Tom, stay and guard the boat."

Tom stood upright from the floor with a sour frown, pressing both his palms against the vest with a puzzled brow. "Me?"

"Tom!" Austin reached down into the pocket of the utility vest and lifted out a new ear plug, placing the ear bug into the right eardrum for as set of invisible communication with Stu and Frank during the rescue mission of Athena on the Storm.

Tom tossed both his arms into the air, slapping them down to his legs with a nod and a smile. "Okay, All right, yes, of course, guard my life..."

Stu turned and slammed Tom into the side wall with a growl into the eardrum on Sawyer. "Guard the yacht, asshole!" He back stepped and turned, dashing across the floor and exited the cockpit.

Tom exhaled with a puff of annoyance, back stepping from the wall, rubbing a cheekbone with a sour frown and a hiss. "Asshole..."

Gotcha!

12:39 p.m.

Top deck setting

Hot temperatures and light winds with bright sunshine

Stu, Frank, and Austin exited the cockpit, ran across the wet deck, and stopped in front of the ramp, seeing a long and dangerous wet metal, holding a Ghost in air with a huff of worries.

If one of the brothers happened to slip and fall off the metal ramp, then the other brothers would be performing a man overboard instead of saving Athena while the Storm was sinking down into the Atlantic Ocean.

The sky was blue. The sunshine was bright. There was not a single sailing sight of another boat within a pair of naked eyes. However, there were numerous ugly, long, and jagged wide rips within the pretty white colored fibreglass of the Storm that was violently ejecting a set of high streams of ocean water into the air as the yacht slowly sunk underneath the yellow sun.

Stu dropped down on top of his kneecaps and one palm, slowly moved, crawling over the metal ramp with his new command. "Frank, go and drop the one of the anchors on the stern side, the hindie of the boat."

"We'll sink much faster." Frank stood in place and stared with a gasp at the boot heels of Stu.

Austin stood at the edge of the metal ramp and spun around with a stern face, jabbing a finger at the dry anchor. "No, Gotcha is equipped with three anchors, keeping the sea winds from dragging the ship during a bout of bad weather or if one of the anchors becomes dislodged during boarding for safety measures. One anchor is located here on the bow and two are in the rear of the stern. The USA Coast Guard uses all three anchors while standing and patrolling US waters for drug runners.

"The boat is bottom heavy, now. With any additional weight on the hindie, the boat will sink us down into the water, Austin." Frank shook a red haired skull.

Austin nodded with a stern face. "No, the bow is stuck in place here and not moving. We need to keep the stern of the boat from swinging side to side within the ocean winds or drifting or pulling away from the Storm which will go the wrong way as we maintain buoyancy on the starboard side for a little longer. Move, Frank!"

"Roger that!" Frank turned and dashed to the stern (rear) of the boat, slamming into the control panel with a grunt of pain, pressing the button and watched the first anchor lift and then drown down into ocean water, turning and dashed behind Austin. He dropped down onto his kneecaps and a palm and crawled over the metal ramp, holding his Ghost with a growl.

the Storm

Top deck setting

Hot temperatures, windy with dark clouds

12:41 p.m.

Stu stood on the bow of a wet deck of the Storm, saying into the ear bug to his brothers. "Austin, take starboard, the right side. I'll go portside, the left." He turned and ran down the polished teak wood floor, stopping and looked into each window for Ned or Athena.

"Roger." Austin finished crawling on both his kneecaps and a palm across the metal ramp and stood upright in place on the wet deck, not seeing Nessle here. He turned and ran into the metal door of the cockpit with a grunt, back stepping and grabbed the handle.

The door opened, revealing the bloody nose of Ned.

Austin gasped.

Ned whipped out the gun and fired, back stepping from the collision of the door, falling back down over the steps and into the narrow corridor.

Austin rushed at the shooting arm of Ned, missing the bullet. The bullet hit the window as the window broke with a ting. "Ned's here inside the cockpit," Austin yelled into the ear bug. Hurry, hurry, Athena's down here too." Austin ran down the steps as his eyeballs darted side to side for Ned.

Ned leaped out from a side door and shoved, slamming the shoulder of Austin into the far wall. Austin hit the wall and dropped down to the floor with a growl, swinging around his Ghost, aiming at the forehead on Nessle, missing.

Ned rolled and ducked to the side, right crawling backward up the cockpit stairs.

Austin leaned over on his side, shooting the clip of razors into the air, hitting the wooden walls and the ceiling, sending tons of baby splinters into the air and down over the floor.

A huge shadow stood inside the archway and fell over a folded body of Ned into one blurry monster, sliding backward into the cockpit space. Then Ned screamed. Stu and Ned continued to fight inside the cockpit.

Austin turned with a sneer and ran down the narrow corridor, leaving the dancing couple. He stopped and skidded into the first metal door, shouting for Athena and grabbed the door handle.

The door opened.

The yacht tilted to the side from slowly sinking down into the ocean water from a brute hit of the yacht Gotcha as Austin lost his balance and stumbled forward onto his kneecaps into an empty sleeping cabin with a curse and stood upright, turning and yelling for Athena, skidding into the second metal cabin door.

"Here, I'm in here, in here," the female voice yelled from behind door number three.

Berrington turned and slammed into the third metal door with a grunt, reaching and turned the handle.

The door opened.

Athena looked with a smile at the open archway of her rescuer. "Hurry, hurry, the ship is..."

The yacht wobbled side to side as Austin dashed into the room, sliding over the floor on his kneecaps and stopped at her feet, whipping out the knife, slicing off the soft cloths around her wrists and her ankles and stood, lifting her into his chest with a stern face. "Hurt? Pain?"

She exhaled, "Mad and defiant, Athena, nice to meet you."

Austin chuckled, "The same, Austin, my pleasure. Roll out! The boat's starting to sink."

"You led. I follow, Austin." She nodded.

They spun around and exited the room, turning and moving up the stairs, onto the top deck, passing a set of fresh blood stains that were permanently grounded into the carpet inside the corridor. They could see Stu and Frank in distance, who were slowly crawling back over the metal ramp over the rough ocean waters.

Gage was covered in blood, sweat, and some unidentified liquid particles.

We must leave now. "Austin turned and grabbed her hand, leading her to ramp, slapping both hands over her collar bone. "Crawl over the ramp, now."

Athena dropped down on her kneecaps and her palms, moving and crawled swiftly over the wobbling ramp in the blowing winds.

Austin dropped down on his kneecaps and his palms, moving and followed behind in case she slipped from the metal ramp.

Gotcha

Top deck setting

12:47 p.m.

Cool temperatures, windy with dark clouds

Tom stood on top of a wet deck, not wearing the body vest or the life jacket or the utility belt, waving all his body parts in the wind, including his Ghost in the air like a fool. Frank dashed and shoved Tom toward the wall, reaching and jerked the Ghost from the nervous shooting hand of Sawyer with a sneer. "Get inside the cockpit, now, Tom."

Tom didn't move but bounced up and down on top of the deck, jabbing a finger at each object with a worried brow, "Leave, leave, go-go, now, now, Stu."

Frank shoved Tom backward from an angry face with a sneer. "Get inside the cockpit for safety, now, Tom."

Tom bounced up and down, running backward with a sour frown from Frank and pointed to Austin and Athena. "I got a bone to pick with her, that young lady. I am here because of..."

"Stow the gear and the weapons, Frank." Stu dashed and slammed a shoulder into Sawyer with a growl, moving Sawyer from his foot path, passing and moved into the cockpit with a sour frown. "Tom, shut up and sit down, if you're not moving any gear."

Tom stumbled backward toward the outer wall as Frank dashed and captured, cuddling Tom with a sneer. "Get inside the cockpit, Tom."

Interior cockpit setting of the Quartet

12:50 p.m.

The door had been left open by Tom.

Stu ran to the wheelhouse, grabbed the wheel, punching the buttons, twisting the knobs.

Tom turned and entered the cockpit behind the ass of Stu with a worried brow and a sissy whine, "Get us out of here, Stu, now. Now, I wanna go home, pronto, faster than pronto." He turned and jogged around the wheelhouse, shaking his arms and his legs.

Stu pulled down the levers, holding the steering wheel. "Belt in. Rough waves ahead."

Tom stood inside the archway without moving with a worried brow in silence.

Frank entered the cockpit and moved next, shoving Tom toward an empty seat near the window with a sour frown. "Sit, Tom." Tom sat down inside the bolted chair, wiggling side to side with a huff. Frank turned and assisted Tom with the body webbing. "Tom's secured." Mangrove turned and dashed to the wheelhouse, stopped, standing in front of one the radar screens with a stern face. "Standing by, Stu," he turned and scanned the ocean water, the large waves, and the sinking yacht.

"Get ready, Frank," Stu ordered.

Austin entered the cockpit first with a stern face, dragging Athena into the small room. He moved and stopped at the closest set of bolted chairs, sitting down. She sat beside Austin, feeling fear and excitement of the rescue. He leaned over with a smile and a whisper, securing the body netting around her tallness and then held her hand.

Tom turned with a worried brow in silence and played with the electric window inside the wall corner again. The window opened and closed as his breathing increased with panic and fear.

Gage pressed the button with a smile, glancing at Tom. "Don't touch anything, Tom."

"I am not scared, sitting quiet." Tom released the window lever and closed his eyelids, holding both his hands together inside a lap, praying to Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit and all his heavenly angels to live and see his wife Jane and he promised to attend church, this Sunday.

"Just checking, bro," Stu pressed the levers with a laugh and a grin.

The visibility of the ocean sky was low. The barometer gauge read 26.94 inches and dropping with a steady pace. The winds howled, coming north by northwest at seventy-five miles-per-hour. The air temperature gauge read sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit. The sky opened up with one hundred percent precipitation including rain, hail, and lightning over the rough ocean waters.

The twin engines of the yacht revved with a series of loud sounds. Stu cut the keel, holding the ship up right as a vicious and high jolt carried the yacht swiftly backward from the Storm, creating a shotgun kick back down into the ocean water. A wall of salt water rose and then blanked entire yacht, coming up from to bow and flowed all the way back down to the stern, flooding the top deck with salt water and small fish as the wall of salt wall reached as high as the satellite dish for a few seconds.

Frank reached down and held the edge of the bolted chair with a chuckle and a smile as he watched a wall of water appear and then disappear. "Shit, what a wild ass ride, Captain Stu."

"That's a great ride, Stu." Austin leaned over and cuddled Athena as they watched the wall of water come and go too. She sobbed with fear and excitement of the scary boat ride.

"Supposed, too," Stu pressed the levers with a smile and a chuckle as he was webbed down into the pilot chair for safety.

"Not great, Stu," Tom opened his eyelids, turning to see the rain and lightning through the windows.

"That, too." Stu laughed.

"This is not fun, not fun at all," Tom held the edge of the bolted chair with a sissy whine.

"Don't puke, Tom." Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"Not sick, not fun." Tom held the edge of the chair with a sissy whine again, "Home, let's go back home, now." Stu steered the yacht backward for thousand feet from the sinking yacht. Tom could feel the movement with a sour frown, "Wrong direction, man, you are sailing in the wrong direction."

"No suction down on my watch." Stu turned the wheel with a smile, steering the boat to the west, sailing toward Miami and cruised along at eighteen knots. "The captain says that you can walk about the cabin but stay near your assigned seat, Tom, in case of an emergency."

"Home, sweet, home," Tom stood with a huff of relieve and a smile and moved to the outside closed hatchway.

Frank stood and moved to the radar, turning to see the ass on Tom with a sour frown. "Where are you going, Tom?"

Tom frowned, "Outside to pee."

Frank exhaled, "Use the head which is below deck, Tom."

Stu pressed the buttons, watching instruments. "Wear your life jacket, Tom."

Frank turned and parted his lips at Gage. "What for, Stu? We're safe. Ned's dead and his boat sunk down into the ocean water."

Stu grinned. "Because, he can't swim, bro."

"Yes, I can." Tom turned around with a sour frown and a nod, seeing the ass of Stu.

"Here, take it. Captain Stu's ordered." Frank turned and moved to the wall, grabbing one of the lift jackets, spinning around and dashed to Tom, assisting Sawyer with the lift jacket with a worried brow of Stu's command.

Tom giggled and wiggled into the life jacket with a smile. "Fine, your hands are cold, man."

Stu continued to steer the yacht, viewing the weather patterns with a new order and a stern face. "Go with him, Frank."

Tom turned with a giggle, moving forward and slammed open the inner hatchway door with a hand in silence.

Frank moved and stood inside the archway with a sigh, watching Tom and then only hearing the footsteps of Sawyer with a smile. "I do believe that the mature adult knows the way and the purpose of the toilet. He's okay. He has moved into the head."

Stu continued to steer the yacht, viewing the weather pattern with a pair of naked eyeballs with a worried brow. "Don't let him out and wander onto the open deck."

Frank stared down into the darkness of the below deck with a worried brow, "All right."

Stu steered the yacht, viewing the nasty weather pattern over the ocean waters with a new order. "Austin, please scan all the screens for me. Where's Tom?"

Austin leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the frightened face of Athena, saying a set of secret words. She nodded with a smile in silence to Austin. He stood and dashed to the long range radar, seeing the nasty weather pattern outside the windows too. He stopped and stood in place, surveying the instruments with a worried brow in silence.

Frank stared down into the darkness, seeing the lonely figure on Tom. "He's coming back up."

Tom moved up the stairs, wiping his hands on a different towel with a smile to Frank. Frank turned and dashed to the wheelhouse, scanning at of the unoccupied screens as Austin continued to press buttons and scan the long range radar in silence.

Tom stood inside the archway, tossing the wet towel down to the floor with a smile, moving forward and stopped, standing in front of the window and pointed at the weather. "Hey, lookie over here at the entire ocean of rippling water. There tons of huge, gigantic water waves, completely white in front of the wave with foam and spray. Here comes one. Duck down, now," Tom gently fell and dropped down over the floor on his kneecaps and his palms with a giggle and a grin and stood upright with a smile and a giggle, looking at the waves inside the Atlantic Ocean. He brushed the pretend set of water droplets from the vest with a smile and a laugh. "Wow, that one was really too gawd damn close by and near my fucking body. See that fucking ass wave, Captain Stu. The sky is filled with driving water balls and other wet shit," he giggled at the funny sight.

"Water pressure is raising, Stu." Austin looked up with a worried brow to see the weather pattern and down to the screen with an aquatic eye.

Stu continued to steer the yacht into the rough storm, saying without upsetting the guest and his non-aquatic minded brothers, "The pressure of ocean pressing onto the hull of a submarine is caused when the pressure increases while increasing depth."

Austin frowned down at the radar screen, "...like one hundred fifty feet maximum."

Stu continued to steer the yacht into the rough storm with a stern face, hearing the buzz words from Austin without upsetting the guest and his non-aquatic minded brothers. "The newer titanium submarine can dive deeper, move faster, and stay submerged for longer with less risk of hull failure."

"Joy to the wet water world..." Tom wiggled and danced side to side in front of the window, watching the pretty ugly weather pattern with a smile and a giggle. The rescue mission was over. The Quartet was heading back home to Coral Beach for more rest and relaxation. Tom was taking a vacation trip right back to pretty county of New Zealand with his wife Jane, because Austin had found another lost babe that required the blood, the sweat, and the tears of Sawyer again.

Frank frowned down at the radar screen, "Shut up, Tom."

"The shifts are moving, Stu," Austin stared down with a worried brow at the radar screen.

"Specific?" Stu continued to steer the yacht deeper into the storm with a worried brow.

Austin said, "I see a warm water front that is swiftly flowing down from the eastern sky, halting the cold water that is rising up from the ocean surface."

Stu frowned, "Shit."

"What shit?" Frank looked up with a worried brow to see Stu, since he was not a sailor of the sea but a renaissance man of flat land.

Austin stared down with a worried brow at the radar screen, "Hot and cold fronts are intersecting, right now and right here with us, Stu."

Stu piloted into the pretty ugly thunderstorm, "Double shit?"

Tom spun around with a confused brow to see the back spine on Frank, the hair roots on Austin and the worried face of Stu. "What double shit? Where is it shitting? What is it shitting?"

Frank turned and pointed to the rich black clouds at the window, "The storm is causing us to sail at low visibility."

Austin looked up with a worried brow to see the thick rich black storm clouds, "We are experiencing poor visibility."

Tom spun around with a confused brow to see the store through the windows. "Ya mean zero visibility. I can't see a gawd damn anything but clouds and clouds, lots of dark fuckingly ugly low hanging midnight blue and black clouds. What's happening out there, Stu?"

Frank shook a red haired skull with a whisper and a worried brow. "Not good."

Austin heard the low beeping sound, looking over to see the gauge with a worried brow, "The barometric pressure gauge is 25.91 and dropping fast."

"Not good." Frank shook a skull at the rich black clouds that encompassed each window of the yacht Gotcha!

Tom frowned at his brothers. "Is this an ocean storm?"

"A big ocean storm?" Stu continued to steer the yacht through the storm with a worried brow.

Austin studied the radar screen with a worried brow. "The ocean currents are composed of huge masses of water, swirling and traveling around the surface of the water, Stu."

Frank frowned, "These huge masses of water are traveling around the ocean and us."

Stu continued to steer the yacht at the swiftly pace through the thick storm clouds. "The ocean currents are deflected off from the landmass and then the Coriolis force is produced by Earth's rotation."

Frank stood in place in front of the radar screen with a worried brow to see Stu. "Clarify, Big Man!"

Stu pushes the levers, steering through the storm with a worried brow, "One word will clarify it to us, trouble."

Austin studied the radar screen with a worried brow, "Two ocean currents have shifted to the right inside the Northern Hemisphere and to the left inside the Southern Hemisphere."

Tom swung around and shook his bangs, standing in front of the window with a confused brow. "No, we live in America, the land of the free and the home of the brave, Austin."

Frank turned and frowned at the window that showed the nasty storm. "Shut up, Tom."

Austin studied the radar screen. "The differences in density of saltwater measure..."

Tom pointed with a gasp at the object in the black sky, "Water spout, over there!"

Austin looked up with a smile to see the object. "One of Mother Nature's children, there's one of the differences, Stu."

Stu continued to steer the yacht deeper into the storm with a worried brow, "Shit."

"Shoot it." Tom slapped his vest with a nod and a smile, spinning around with a frown to see Frank. Mangrove had kept Tom's Ghost. Tom jabbed a finger with a sour frown at Mangrove. "You got my..."

Frank shook a skull at Sawyer. "Shut up, Tom."

Tom swung around to the window with a smile and a giggle to see the storm, dancing side to side. "Dodge it to the left, Stu. Dodge it to the right, Captain." He slid to the right and to the left in front of the window with a grin and a giggle of fun.

Stu twirled the steering column to the right with a worried brow as the yacht reacted very slowly from the brute hit into the Storm, "Trying."

Tom stopped dancing and leaned into the window, pressing a nose bridge into the glass with a smile, "Wow, there's another new water spout. It spins and sprays and sucks up the surface water and spins the water into the air. Wow, it is whirling golf ball-sized water drops are coming down from the twisting white funnel cloud over the blue ocean. Awesome!"

Frank watched Mother Nature through the windows with a worried brow. "The funnel cloud is almost over us, Stu."

Tom grinned. "Wow, the swirling white clouds are trying to form something else, too," he turned with a smile to see Stu. "What else is formed over the ocean surface, Stu?"

Austin studied the radar screen with a worried brow. "I have a series of fierce gusts with one minute sustained winds. The strongest wind current is being clocked north by northwest at 175 miles-per-hour."

Frank said with a worried brow, "A Category-I hurricane is trying to form over the ocean surface right beside us, Tom."

Stu twirled the steering column to the left with a worried brow, "Shit."

Tom back pedaled from window with a worried brow, waving a skull and both his hands. "Get us out of here, Stu, like now, sir."

Stu pushed the levers, twisting the yacht away from the funnel clouds and into the heavy gusts of winds with a worried brow, "Trying."

Frank frowned, "We trapped."

"We're going to die." Tom reached and pulled out the mobile telephone from underneath the life jacket, swishing the icon with a worried brow.

Frank stood in place and watched the storm with a sour frown. "Shut up, Tom."

Tom lifted and slammed the mobile telephone into his ear with a worried panic. "Hello, hello, US Coast Guard. Help me! Come and help me, now!"

Austin looked up with a stern face and a serious tone to see Tom and the storm in front of the windows, "We aren't going to die. Calm down, Tom."

Frank turned and frowned to Austin. "I must object here at the moment, Austin. A hurricane is one of the most destructive forces by Mother Nature that is created from an ocean."

"Not an ocean, it is her." Tom turned and pointed with a stern face at Athena, who was quietly sitting in the wall corner, watching the antics, listening to the conversation.

Austin frowned at Sawyer. "What do you mean, Tom?"

Tom bounced up and down, jabbing a finger at her, "The girl, the gawd damn goddess, she's doing this water stuff around us, only us, because she is doing it."

Stu twirled the steering wheel around the storm with a stern face, "Shut up, Tom."

Frank shook a skull, watching the storm through the windows. "A hurricane falls down over a land mass in which causes terrible devastation and death which has moved away from the ocean..."

"...and us," Tom bounced up and down with a worried brow and pointed at her. "She's the terrible problem on our ship, so get her..."

Austin frowned at the rear skull of Frank, "They die out on land, Frank."

Tom turned and frowned to Frank. "But that ain't applicable here, Frank. She is the energy source of the water spouts and the forming Cat-I hurricane, the goddess," he jabbed a finger at Athena.

Stu swirled the steering wheel to the side of a new formed water spout with a stern face. "Shut up, Tom."

Tom bounced up and down with a worried brow, pointing at Athena. "She created it with her...her super power stuff." His assumption was accurate and correct. Athena was the disturbance of the current nasty ugly weather pattern over the Atlantic Ocean. The written scientific reports, the visual recorded sightings, Ned's successfully bank heists, all those documents had confirmed Athena's supernatural ability which was happening again inside the yacht Gotcha!

Stu twirled the steering wheel away from the new water spout with a stern face and a serious tone to Tom, "As more air spirals swing upward, energy is released, fueling a set of stronger winds that whirl around the eye of the storm, Tom. This is what we are seeing and experiencing. I am trying to find and located the eye of the storm. Then we will cruise there until we reach Miami."

Tom stopped bouncing and extended both his arms even with the floor, looking down with a confused brow to see the floor and spun around to see the windows with a gasp. "Calm, the boat is not shaky. I see the deep blue sea, the light blue sky, the bright yellow sun. No more blowing winds. Yay, Stu's the man. Geez, I need my sunglasses, now," he slapped the life jacket, searching for a pair of sunglasses with frustration.

Austin stood in place, studying the radar screen with a worried brow, "Extreme low pressure."

Frank turned and scanned with a smile at the windows. "We're in the eye of the hurricane, Tom. Way to go, Captain Stu!"

Tom frowned, "We are drifting. The blue sky is leaving. The black is coming. Keep us inside the calm eye of the storm, Stu. Stay in here, now."

Stu swirled the steering wheel to the left as the yacht reacted slowly and the storm clouds over the boat with great speed, "Trying."

Austin stared down with a worried brow and a yell, "Incoming." A tall and high wave of ocean soared over the water and hit the front bow of the yacht, bouncing the boat side to side over the water and the brothers side to side inside the cockpit.

Austin fell forward into the wheelhouse first, without grabbing onto something for balance and was tossed backward, hitting the row of bolted chairs, sliding over and fell down onto the floor with a grunt.

Frank fell sideways down over the floor, rolling backward and hit into the booted feet of Austin with a grunt.

Tom fell backward, resting down on a back spine with a curse, sliding backward over the floor and stopped in place, when the boat returned upright and bobbed side to side over the rough waves.

Stu was webbed and wobbled side to side inside the pilot chair for safety and security as the captain. His eyeballs blurred with dizziness. He yelled, "The measurement of that crest?"

Austin stood and leaped over Frank, dashing and slammed into the wheelhouse, surveying the radar screen with a stern face, "The wave was fifty feet crest to trough. Too close, Captain!"

Tom stood without pain or dizziness, bouncing up and down with panic and nervousness with a giggle and a grin. "I made it. I'm fine. Thanks for asking. Did you see that awesome Hollywood movie with the tidal wave larger than that great big ugly lizard monster thing that we saw as kids...?"

Frank slowly stood on top of his kneecaps with a heavy sigh. "Shut up, Tom."

Austin studied the radar with a worried brow and yelled. "Hold on. There's another one coming at us."

Tom turned and bounced, sitting down into an empty seat, webbing a body into the netting, holding onto the edges with a grin and a giggle. "The movie was real. The real boat and crew died in tidal wave."

Stu twirled the steering wheel to the left as it flew under its own power, moving in the opposite direction. Gage lifted both his hands into the air with a sour frown, "Shit."

Frank slammed back down over the floor with a sneer, "This ain't a movie, Tom."

Tom held onto the edge of the seat with a worried brow. "Do something, Stu!"

Stu held both hands into the air with a worried brow and a soft moan, watching the steering wheel twirl under its own power from the shifting rough waves of the ocean, "Trying."

"This is true grit reality. Hang on, Stu, Austin, Frank, Athena, and kitty cat! Yeehaw, ya'll." Tom held onto the edges of the seat with a grin and a giggle.

Another gigantic wall of water lifted from the surface of the ocean and floated through the air, hitting and blinding all the exposed windows with water and some fish guts.

Austin reached and webbed a body into the chair, staring down with a worried brow into the radar screens. "The ocean surface has released a newly formed wind-driven wave about one hundred and fifty feet from crest to trough. Don't move. Stay in place. And hold on!"

Tom held the seat with a sissy whine. "Do something Gage!"

Stu held both hands in the air as he was helpless to control the yacht with a soft moan, "Trying, Thomas?"

Tom held onto the edge of the bolted chair and closed his eyelids with a sissy whine for all the eardrums to hear inside the cockpit, "I don't wanna die, Almighty God, Brother Jesus, The Holy Spirit, and all my heavenly angels. Please send all of Stu's heavenly angels to protect me too. Since the asshole can't steer a gawd down boat and I really wanna live and..."

Stu turned and sneered at Sawyer. "Tom, you can't have all my heavenly angels, too, ya greedy bastard."

Frank rolled over the floor and stopped, hugging and tucked a body underneath the rows of bolted chair like hiding and yelled into the cockpit for all eardrums. "These crashing gigantic walls of thick water are going to sink us and the yacht."

"Eventually," Stu held both hands into the air with a soft moan, watching the steering wheel dance side to side.

Tom opened his eyelids with a sour frown and lifted a hand, pointing at Athena. "She can fix it, ya'll. Grab her and make her fix it, Austin." Austin turned and stared at Athena, frowning at the words on Tom as the words echoed between his neurons. The dark clouds loudly rumbled within the nasty sky, producing a set of dancing bolts of lightning as each one missed the yacht but eventually one might not. Sawyer jabbed a finger at Athena with a stern face. "She is upset. Jace told us that she creates this shit when upset."

The high winds blew sideways, ripping off almost of the exposed metal parts from the yacht while a series of tall and wide walls of waters lifted from the surface ocean and slammed into the bow of the yacht, blinding the windows with water and fish guts.

"A Cat-II hurricane is developing and forming, right off portside, Stu." Austin was webbed into the chair, surveying the radar with a worried brow. "There's another bigger storm, brewing about two miles from here, coming from the west."

Frank covered a face with both his hands and a silent prayer of safety. "What are we to do, now, brothers?"

Austin studied the radars with a worried brow. "I got fallout. Usually, a meteorological pattern is strictly related to a nuclear blast, but this is a mixture of hot particles and cold air," he looked up with a worried brow to see the nose profile on Gage. "That's a third hurricane coming for us, Stu."

Tom unbelted the webbing and stood with a huff and a sour frown, waving a skull and both hands. "How in the hell can it be more, maybe it is fuckingly less? Or maybe, Old Man can't fuckingly read the gawd damn radar monitor correctly." Bolts of white lightning danced inside the black clouds as loud rumbles of thunder drowned out the speech on Tom. "Out of balance, remember, Jace told us that in your throne office, Austin?" He turned with a nod and pointed to Athena. "She needs to be fucked, now."

"Fucked?" Frank looked up with a confused brow to see at the legs of Athena as he was tucked underneath the rows of bolted chairs for safety.

Austin turned and stared with a puzzled brow at her. Athena was webbed into the bolted chair and wiped off the wet tears of fear and fright of the intense weather situation and the current tart chat from Tom. He turned and unbelted the webbing, sliding off the chair and turned with a puzzled brow to see Athena again.

Tom moved ahead, wobbling over the floor of the wobbling yacht with a sneer, "Fuck her, Austin. Save us all." He stopped and stood beside Athena, reaching down and grabbed her hand with a sour frown, "Damn, I'll do it."

Austin rushed and shoved Tom into the chairs with a stern face, "Hell, no, Tom. Sit down and get webbed back into the chair. I will take care of this." He leaned down and unbelted her webbing with a smirk, grabbing her hand and cuddled her into his chest with a whisper into her frightened face. "This way for our privacy. Everything is going to be All right. Do you believe me?"

"No, not at all, sir," Athena shook her golden curls.

Austin turned and dragged her by the hand, moving to the inner hatchway.

The door opened.

He led her down the stairs into the darkness and dampness below deck of the yacht Gotcha!

Below deck setting

Interior cabin of Austin and Athena

1:22 p.m.

Austin stomped down the last step and turned, assisting her off the staircase, cuddling her into his chest with a smile. "This is hard to believe."

The yacht wobbled side to side.

Athena fell forward into his chest as he captured and pulling her into his smirk with a whisper into her frightened face. "But your electromagnetic system that aligns with the planet is out of balance, allowing you to shut off any type of electronic devise, such like, a bank alarm. You can also create a massive nasty looking weather pattern like a category four hurricane over the ocean water. However, I have the perfect solution to solve both of our issues. A dick of my semen will balance out your body in turn making you normal, especially around a bank alarm," chuckling.

"I...I do kinda know but not understand about this electromagnetic thing. How certain are you of this phenomenon that involves me?"

The yacht wobbled side to side again as the floor of water sloshed around their feet.

He exhaled, "Very, very, very certain, do you believe me, now?"

"Well, sorta, Ned said that too."

He leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a wink and a smirk. "You're a virgin, correct, beauty?"

She gasped. "Yes."

He grinned. "If not, the storm would not have developed. Now, you have created an ocean storm right over us that will eventually overtake this boat. And I promise we will not survive the hurricane, the waves, the sharks, and the sun while waiting for the Coast Guard rescue. All the electrical machines are shut down, not permanently damaged, because of you."

She exhaled. "I kinda, sorta understand some of this. I was kidnapped by Ned along with his similar kinda sorta weird explanation. What I need to do?"

He leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smirk. "Not a thing, honey. This is my personal honor. Undress. There is a tiny cot on the corner. I'm going to the head then I will be right out." He back stepped and turned, dashing into the head to undress too.

She reached down and unbuttoned her blouse, moving across the water, standing in front of the cot and completed undressed for her sacrifice of saving her life and the lives of the Quartet in silence.

Top deck setting

Interior cockpit of Stu, Frank, and Tom

1:24 p.m.

Cool temperatures and windy with storm clouds

The winds roared from north by northwest at 200 miles-per-hour. The barometer gauge showed 24.80 inches and dropping fast. The visibility was zero with a set of dark rich black clouds blocking out the water and the sky. The sky opened up with one hundred percent precipitation, including rain, hail balls, and dancing yellow colored lightning bolts.

A 197 feet high wall of water as measured by the radar equipment was moving directly toward the yacht Gotcha!

Stu had abandoned the steering wheel, since it was possessed and twirled side to side out of controls. He moved and sat, webbing into the chair that was occupied by Austin, staring down with a worried brow at the radar screens. "Shut it, Tom. And continue to mop of the water from the windows, before they bust and broke. Then we will all drown inside the cockpit instead of the oceans with the sharks."

"Know that, asshole." He exhaled with a puff of worry. "Shit, what's the fuck's taking Austin so long to fuck the virgin? She's a virgin. Virgin causes some much damn trouble. We could execute all virgin then the world would be a safer place. Lookie out there at the brewing gawd damn storm! It's gaining more speed and more strength." Tom looked down with a worried brow and wiped up the water from the leaking windows, not wanting to die or drown inside the small space of the cockpit of the yacht.

Frank wiped up the water with a sour frown on the opposite wall on Tom. "No, a virgin does not cause trouble. If the world didn't have a virgin, then Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third would have never been birthed. It is a male that causes trouble all the time for the virgin female. This is a man's world. The storm is slowing and stable. Tom, it is your vividly science fiction make-believe pretend imagination working over time," chuckling.

The mobile telephone rang inside the pocket of the life jacket. Tom stopped working and pulled out the mobile telephone, swishing the icon without seeing the person, lifting and yelling into the receiver with a sour tone. "What, asshole?"

Pause.

He smiled with love and a tender voice. "Jane, sweetheart, I am so sorry, just fucking business pissing my off this hot and sizzling afternoon in Miami. What is happening, Jane, sweetheart?"

Pause.

He frowned, "Baby, what baby, sweetheart?"

Pause.

He bounces up and down with a smile and a nod. "You're pregnant. I mean, we're pregnant."

Pause.

He danced side to side with a smile and a nod. "Happy? I'm happy, happily overjoyed. I love you, Jane, sweetheart and be home soonest," he replaced the satellite telephone with a smile and a nod back into the jacket pocket, turning to see his brothers. "Baby, man, a little Tommy running around our Coral Beach castle, Jane found out from Jace, this afternoon. She is six days with our developing fetus. It worked. Our vacation really worked. And, now, we have a baby coming," he danced around in a circle with a smile, waving his arms with happiness.

Frank wiped up the water with a grunt. "I'm happy for you, Tom."

Tom stopped dancing and stood in place, cuddling a body with a smile and a nod, facing his brothers. "I'm going to be a first time daddy. Jane's going to be a first time mommy. I'm so very, very happy as a set of new parents of a developing fetus," he jabbed a finger with a sour frown at the nose profile on Stu, "Home, get me home, Stu, right now, this moment."

"The storm," Stu stared down with a worried brow at the radar screen.

Tom stomped a boot like a kid with a sour frown. "Shit, stop it. I don't wanna die. I wanna live and be a father. Tell Austin, now to finish up his fucking action?" he moved forward toward the inner hatchway that led down below the top deck.

Frank turned and dashed, reaching and grabbed the arm on Tom with a sneer. "Austin knows what to do. He's not gay. Don't mention it, either!"

Tom turned and chuckled to Frank. "I don't mention it. You did, Dr. Mangrove."

Stu looked up with a worried brow to see the windows with a moan, "The storm."

Frank and Tom spun around with a scream, seeing the storm inside the window.

The black clouds hung low over the rough waters of the Atlantic Ocean, where the yacht was slowly drifting out the shoreline of Coral Beach about ten miles, without power and in direct line of a category four hurricane.

The yacht wobbled side to side like it was threatening to tip over and drown down into the depths of the deep blue ocean.

Frank dropped down to the floor and covered a skull in silent pray.

Tom stood with a gasp. "Fuck."

Below deck setting

Interior cabin of Austin and Athena

1:26 p.m.

"Fuck?" She was naked, resting underneath the blanket with Austin on top of her body. Her heart was pounding. Her eyes twinkled with eagerness and anticipation.

"This has to be quick. Sorry, I usually take hours to sacrifice a virgin." Austin chuckled with a grin, reaching and shuffled the tiny blanket form her naked body. "Spread your legs for me."

"I..." she spread her legs for him. He reached and pulled both her wrists above her golden honey hair with a smirk. She whispered into his smirk. "My wrists hurt."

He said, "Sorry, I want you to scream as loud as you can. This is going to hurt the both of us for a few seconds and then immediate pleasure. I promise that too." A tear streamed down her face with the vile act of surrender as he leaned down and gently kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile, "Ready?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He didn't need to warm up his dick as he and his dick were able and ready the moment he saw another pretty virgin. This was becoming a very good habit for Berrington. Austin scooted back and then rammed into her tight vagina with a loud grunt.

Athena screamed with pain and then pleasure. "Ah."

Interior cockpit of Stu, Tom and Frank

1:26 p.m.

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

The winds ceased. The clouds departed. The visibility over the ocean surface was a clear ten miles. The winds blew from the north at three miles-per-hour. The barometer gauge read 29.90 inches with a set of steady and flat ocean waves.

"Ah." Tom fell and dropped down over the floor, rolling up into a ball as the tidal wave did not hit the bow of the yacht.

Stu gasped with a whisper and a set of parted lips, "Gone."

Frank stood on top of his kneecaps with an open mouth, turning and scanning the wet outside deck, "The storm has disappeared like magic."

Tom rested on the floor, holding both his arms over a blonde colored skull, sobbing with tears. "I am dead. I died. I will not be a daddy ever. I wanna live and be a daddy always..."

"It's over. The storm's gone, Tom." Stu unbelted the webbing with a smile and slid off the chair, turning and stomped forward to the windows with a sour frown, leaning down and lifted Tom by the life vest into the air and then dropped Sawyer down on top of the boot heels. Gage leaned over and sneered into the eardrum on Tom, turning the chin on Tom side to side for viewing the ocean through the windows. "See, asshole, the storm's gone. The ocean is calm, flat, and beautiful."

His eyeballs scanned all the viewing windows as his parted lips with a smile. "The storm is over and gone. I didn't die. I'm not dead." He slapped both hands over a body to ensure his precious life with a giggle and a grin.

Stu shoved Tom toward the window with a growl and turned, moving back to the wheelhouse and sat, shifting a set of numerous levels and buttons while steering the crippled yacht toward Coral Beach with a smile and a nod. "We're all alive and well, thank you very much, Thomas."

Tom fell down and dropped down over the floor again on top of kneecaps, tossing back a skull, praying with his eyelids open to the ceiling. "Thank you. Thank you, Almighty God, Brother Jesus, Virgin Mommy Mary, Good Father Joseph, The Holy Spirit, and my heavenly angels, and all the borrowed heavenly angels from Stu, Frank, and Austin. Thanks, ya'll. All of you saved my life. And I promise to go to church, this Sunday."

Stu steered the yacht with a sour frown, shaking a bald skull, "My heavenly angels didn't save your ass, Tom. They saved all our asses, today, a few moments ago."

Frank stood and wiped out the wet from his clothing with a smile and a chuckle. "Is that a confession coming from our baby brother, Stu?" He turned and moved to sit inside Austin's seat at the wheelhouse, without viewing the radar screen. He could feel and see the hot temperatures from the bright yellow sun.

Tom turned and frowned to Stu. "I'm talking to Almighty God, asshole, which happens to be a private conversation."

"All right, Tom," Frank watched with a smile the white clouds, the blue sky, and calm deep blue waters of the ocean.

Stu said. "Frank, come over here and grab the steering wheel and turn it port side to the left, when I release all three anchors, giving us less weight and more speed to push us a little faster back home to..."

Tom stood upright from the floor with a gasp and stared at rear bald skull of Stu. "What? Why are you doing over there, non-captain Stu? We need all three anchors to stop our runaway yacht from...from hitting my castle. We're going back home and anchor right off Coral Beach. Right? Right! We all live on the sea coast line of a beach. Right? Right, man!"

"That Tom never sees, meaning the bluish green sea or the tan colored sands but from his fourth story bathroom window during a daily and nightly shit crap." Frank turned with a laugh and moved, stopped and stood in front of the pilot chair, reaching and grabbed the steering wheel. "Ready, Stu!"

Tom parked both hands over his hips with a confused brow at the hair roots on Frank. "How, how in the hell do you know that I fuckingly crap twice a day inside my master bathroom, Mangrove?"

Frank rubbed both naked hands over the soft leather of the steering wheel with a smile. "Dr. Mangrove, me, has access to all your biological medical charts from our QA physician Jace."

Tom gasped. "Don't ever read my shit, Frank!"

Stu laughed at the silly chat between Frank and Tom, holding a finger over each button. "The three anchors are getting us out of here faster and back home swiftly to Coral Beach, Tom."

Tom tossed both arms into the air with a worried brow. "Stop! We will drown without the three anchors. The boat will sink. I'll die again. I just survived the most gawd damn awfulest storm of the fucking century to die by drowning in the ocean without an anchor."

Stu turned and stood in front of the controls with a smile, "Awfulest ain't a word, bro."

Frank tapped on the soft leather of the steering wheel with a smile to see Tom, "Wrong, asshole! Stu is both the captain and the smartest brother of the band. The boat won't sink. We gain both power and speed for home. The yacht will stop over land, once it hits your gigantic fugly ugly orange colored castle, sailing and flying over the tan colored sandy shoreline of Coral Beach, Thomas." He laughed with his makeup story along with Stu.

Tom gasped, "No! Not my castle, I love my castle."

Stu rolled his eyeballs and turned to see Tom. "You love your money, Thomas."

Frank smiled. "The impact of the flying boat would probably only take out the entire kitchen and part of the grand room that you can repair very quickly with your billons. However, I would call Jane and warn her..."

Tom jabbed a finger with a gasp at Frank. "You...you would murder my wife on purpose with this damaged ship..."

"Shut up, Frank! Sit down, Tom! When I release the anchors, the yacht will zoom really fast across the ocean." Tom continued to stand with a sour frown. "Now, Tom!" Stu turned to see Frank. "Ready, Frank?"

Tom gasped and turned, dashing to one of the bolted chairs, sliding into the seat and webbed a body with the netting, mumbling his famous string of curse words of worry.

"Yeah," Frank laughed.

Stu turned a face and smashed all three buttons at the same time, hearing the large thick chains of three anchors rattle down from the metal sides of the yacht and splashed down into the water with a smile and a laugh. "Anchors away!"

Tom gasped. "No."

"Done," Frank yanked the steering wheel towards portside as the boat swiftly sailed sideway, turning and gliding forward over the smooth ocean surface with a set of metal pain sounds, tearing pieces of the delicate hull off the yacht Gotcha!

Interior cabin setting of Austin and Athena

1:30 p.m.

"Are you okay?" Austin pulled back with a sweaty face and an evil smirk of lust and happiness.

She sounded with a series of pants of tiny mint breathes into his face, "I feel great, strange emotions but wonderful sensations. Thank you very much."

He grinned, "Thank you for saving our lives and allowing the honor of your first of many fuckings."

She turned and scanned the damp wall with a smile. "We're moving. We should..."

He leaned down and kissed her neck, pulling back with a wicked grin. "Let my brothers drive the boat. We have about one hour more riding over the calm waters, heading back to Miami. I mentioned this was your first of many fuckings. This is your second one." Austin rested on top of her nakedness with a groan.

She smiled. "I'm ready."

"So, am I?" He chuckled.

Interior cockpit setting of Stu, Frank, and Tom

1:31 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"Wee! That was a lot of fun, this round, Stu. And we're moving forward. Lookie! We are moving back home to Coral Beach. Yay!" Tom turned with a smile to see the window of sky and ocean, hand clapping with singing of happiness. He unbelted the webbing with a smile and stood, dancing side to side around the floor space with happiness.

"Brilliant, Stu! You're the engineering god." Frank turned and moved from the wheelhouse, sitting back into Austin's seat at the radar console.

Stu looked ahead, steering the yacht on autopilot slowly back to Miami with a smile. "Thank you, sir! The Quartet is heading back home to Coral Beach."

Tom turned and danced an ass to the inner hatchway of the cockpit. Frank turned and watched the dancing ass of Sawyer. "Tom?"

"What?" Tom danced forward to the inner closed door with a giggle and a grin.

"What are you doing?" Frank frowned at the ass on Tom.

"Checking on Austin," Tom jabbed a finger at the closed hatchway with a stern face.

"Let them alone!" Frank snapped.

Tom frowned, "Yeah! She saved our gawd damn lives. The storm's fuckingly gone. I wanna a fucking word or two with that girl who is down below inside the cabin." He was mad with fighting fury for upsetting him and Jane, if she were here. But not, she was at home resting, carrying their newly conceived baby fetus.

Stu turned and leaned over, grabbing the hand on Tom, swinging Sawyer around the wheelhouse and in front of his sneer. "Let them alone, asshole."

Tom reached down and slammed the big hand of Stu with a sour frown, "Fuck you, Gage. Austin's finished fucking the babe, since the storm is gone."

Stu tossed Tom into the row of bolted chairs with a sneer, "Rope."

"Here, you go." Frank turned and lifted the rope from his utility vest, moving and stopped, standing beside Stu, looking at Tom.

"Hey, asshole! Let me go now!" Tom sat inside the bolted chair, yelling and screaming and kicked with his arms and his feet at Stu, hitting Big Man but Stu held onto annoying Tom with a sneer.

Stu held Tom down on the collar bone with both hands as Frank looped the rope around the skinny body on Tom and the bolted chair with a grunt.

Tom yelled with a sour frown. "Fuck you, Gage! Get off of me, Stu! Stop it, Frank. I'm telling Austin."

He leaned into the distorted face on Tom with a growl. "Austin does not want to listen, see, or smell you, Tom. He's busy." Stu admired with a chuckle and a smile the sailor handiwork of Mangrove.

Tom could not slide off the bolted seat, saying with a sissy whine and a sour frown. "I'm fuckingly telling my wife Jane. She'll be gawd damn mad at both of ya'll."

Stu stood and pointed a finger at the nose bridge on Tom with a smile. "And we're tattle-tailing to Janey for you, too. She'll be mighty pissed that you wanted to fuck the virgin, first."

Tom shook his bangs with a sour frown. "That's blackmail and exhortation, asshole."

"Damn right and proud of it." Frank nodded with a grin, crossing his arms at Tom.

Stu turned and shuffled back to the wheelhouse with a sour frown, sitting inside the pilot chair. "Gag him, Frank!" Frank lifted and placed the clean handkerchief from the pocket of his utility belt and wrapped it around the big mouth on Tom and then secured the cloth ends around the egoistical head of Sawyer with a chuckle in silence. "Peace on the way home." Stu nodded with a smile, continuing to steer the autopilot of the yacht over the smooth waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

Frank stood upright with a good job, staring at Tom, "How much longer until we reach a sandy golden shoreline of coral beach, Stu?"

"Four hours at twenty miles-per-hours, the yacht is pretty beaten up. I don't wanna to tax the engines in the middle of the ocean without a working radio. We do have the mobile telephone usage, but I don't wanna perturb the US Coast Guard with our minor issue. So we will land around two thirty or so in the afternoon."

"F..." sounds came from the tight gag around Tom's mouth.

"Sedate him, Stu?" Frank reached and patted the utility vest with an evil chuckle at his annoyance baby brother Thomas.

Stu turned and frowned at Sawyer who had quieted down and lowered a chin in defeat. Stu turned and faced the windows and the water with a smile, "Naw, only if, he makes too much noise while I'm concentrating on getting us home. Let's start from the top of the song." Gage sung in a set of pretty bass tones, "Peace in the valley. Peace in the valley. There'll be peace in the valley, right now."

"All for one and one for all," Frank nodded with a grin to Tom.

"Another happy ending for Quartet Assholes," Stu steered the yacht for home with a laugh and a grin.
Wednesday July 14th

2:31 a.m.

One Coral Lane of Coral Beach in US State of Florida

Home of Austin Berrington master bedroom setting

Waxing crescent moon and cool temperatures with rain precipitation

His mental dream was dark and dangerous, displaying a slightly familiar face of a dark skinned female who was not happy to see him either.

He rolled over to the side table, seeing the familiar clock time of 2:31 a.m. in the fucking morning, as usual.

He exhaled and rolled to the other side, nose snuggling next to a warm female body, falling into a deep restful sleep.

9:09 a.m.

City of Kendall (six miles southwest of Coral Beach)

Charity Healthcare System headquarters

Tenth floor super board room setting

Warm temperatures and storm clouds with forty rain precipitation

"Dr. Mangrove, may have the floor?" the newly installed super president of the Charity Healthcare System Donald Dribble stood and scanned the table that hold the supermen and women at the impromptu unscheduled board of directors meeting at Charity Hospital in Kendall, Florida. He sat inside his assigned seat at the head spot of the square shaped conference table.

The table was surrounded with all the various super men and women from all forty-six local Charity Hospitals, coming down from Ft. Lauderdale and up from southern islands of Key West.

He stood from the chair with a stern face and a nod to each board member. "Thank you, Mr. Pollard. Ladies and gentlemen of the Charity Healthcare System, I hold between my open hands a set of evidentiary documents of criminal abuse, neglect, and outright cold blooded murder. These hard copy papers present three counts of medical fraud, six counts of legal indictments, and two counts of financial embezzlement." Frank swung a stern face to see Hera as the room echoed in a set of soft grunts.

Hera stared at the colorful dress shirt of Mangrove.

Frank was dressed in a preppy violet colored cotton shirt underneath a bright dull lemon and duller lime long necktie down to the waist that was coupled with a pair of tan colored trousers, looking like a silly hobo from a kiddie show on the free public television station rather than a billionaire inside the USA with billions upon billions of money in numerous bank accounts.

She wondered if the billions were Mexican pesos, not American currency.

Frank was a CPA (certified public accountant) and a US State of Florida licensed medical doctor, specializing in the field of dermatology, graduating Miami-Dade University School of Medical. However, the most important job for Frank was chief financial officer at his business company Quartet Associates where his was knew as the "Money Man."

Frank stood in front of an old fashioned paper of lined notepad plus a number two lead writing pencil. The pencil sat alone in the middle of the notepad with a steaming cup of hot English black colored tea at right sleeve of Mangrove. Frank stood tall a six feet and one inch who was the same body height as Tom, his non-biological brother, business partner, and best friend.

Frank's side kick was Stuart Thant Gage, the third who was hanging off from the left elbow of Frank.

Stu always was presented in a good taste of social manner, brotherly attitude, and nice demeanor every hour of the day. He was a giant man, selecting a finely tailored pleated and cuffed pair of beige colored trousers and a matching tailored and fitted straight jacket coat that was paired with a hidden button down blood red flaring dress shirt that fitted around his taunt frame. The shirt collar pins with a thirteen caret red ruby gem was displayed at the neckline with a set of matching ruby red twin cuff links at the two wrists of the shirt, clashing or complimenting both his shirt and his mood.

Gage sat upright inside the tan colored leather conference chair while musically banging a set of finger pads on his laptop during Frank's speech with a steaming cup of hot green tea at his left elbow.

Hera turned and stared at Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third who was the other amusing clown inside the royal court room today.

Tom was continuously listed on the world's best dressed men elite category, appearing more like a circus clown, wearing a dark gray wool suit that was tailored to his tall skinny ass, a white cotton long-sleeved, button-down dress shirt with a set of French cuffs that were decorated with a set of three carat diamond cuff links. A ridiculous neon bright fruit orange and brighter hot pink bowtie curled around a slender neck with a matching silk handkerchief inside the left pocket of the gray jacket. Tom had never lost a single legal law case for his family, his company, and his friend and was known as the "Law Man."

Tom guarded a new dark gray lizard briefcase on the floor beside a new pair of matching gray lizard leathers while occasionally adjusting an electric mini-tape recorder in front of his dress shirt with a grin and a giggle during Frank's speech. Then Tom slumped backward his slender body down into the leather chair, where Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth was seated his right.

Austin was perched like a bronze statue inside the leather chair, scanning and observing the crowded room of supermen and women at the Charity Healthcare System that run all the medical facilities. He did not travel with a briefcase, a notepad, a mini-tape recorder, a laptop, or a mobile telephone. Berrington did not take notes with a pencil, record voices on a tape recorder, or type keystrokes on a computer. He observed, watched, listened, and learned, a trick from his father, Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the third.

Austin wore a yachting outfit of a white linen jacket, a white turtleneck cotton shirt that came from a local retail shop, a pair of black wool trousers over the pair of expensive tasseled black alligator leathers.

Hera had met, danced, and socialized with Austin a couple of times at a few formal dance and dinner events over past few years.

Austin was the more down to earth guy within the Quartet, being slightly shy, too. You could say, if you didn't piss him off on the first impression.

Hera bet that Austin was wishing to be inside a yacht cruising his ass toward a breezy Caribbean island, instead of her crucifying her ass in sizzling metro city Miami.

Badass Berrington caught her figuratively. Austin and his brothers were the primary four whistle blowers of her naughty nasty social deeds, since every citizen knew the Quartet and their infamous American family history lesson.

Great grandfather Berrington grew up in the decade of the 1830s along the Florida green swampy wilderness near the current state capital of Tallahassee. He was an only child for an economic, not greed reason, since the rural rough country life in Florida was both wild and savage, containing a few small net farm communities that depended upon each other for barter trade, crop skills, and human survival.

Mr. Berrington, Junior, Mr. Gage, Mr. Sawyer, and Mr. Mangrove all married a local girl and produced one son each, and then named their single heir after themselves. In case, something happened to the father, then the son could carry forth the surname and the family traditions into the next generation. That ancestral concept was instilled into the youngsters' heads while growing into a wolf pack of big, strong, and ambitious young men of a free nation, the USA.

The young men married and then produced one child each, a second generation son. The second generation of sons honored the same surnames and family traditions started by their biological fathers form the year 1838.

Then the second generation sons married and then produced one child each, a third generation son. They named their newborn sons after themselves like the biological grandfather and father before them, continuing the family tradition.

Currently, the fourth generation of sons were mellowed and chilled around a crowded conference table inside the Charity Healthcare System super board impromptu meeting which was called by super president Donald Pollard.

The concept of family did not necessary mean "blood relatives" for the Quartet, since a family unit represented people, who sweated, worked, helped, cared, and loved you and all your clan. Berrington, Gage, Mangrove, and Sawyer were not related by biological blood, not one of their parents was a distant aunt, uncle, cousin, or could claim a limb within the family tree.

The four males were bonded by a tradition that was established and honored by a group of four biological great grandfathers in the year 1838 in Tallahassee, Florida.

If you did not know that ancient information, then you were an alien living on planet Mars within cold and black outer space.

Hera bet all the aliens knew on Tom, since his handsome pale tinted face appeared on the television tube, the black and white newspapers, and social internet computer screen every hour of the day for his continuous legal battles and his generous charity works.

The four young brilliant, handsome, and talented billionaires owned and operated the business that was entitled after themselves, Quartet Associates, or the other surly nickname Quartet Assholes which was known by their enemies and the nasty media reporters.

Hera finished surveying her clothing inventory on the Quartet and mentally flashed back through the sequential time life events, creating this delicate dilemma.

Three months earlier

May of the current year

City of Kendall

Charity Kendall Hospital

Hera had successfully negotiated with the Charity Healthcare System and super president Donald Pollard as the new round-the-clock obstetrician position at the furthest hospital, Charity Key West within the Florida Keys, which was a busy baby producing medical center. Her new job relieved most of the internal overworked and exhausted young physicians from the middle of night and early morning emergency phone calls, since Hera was in deep financial money debt and needed a second job for an accidental delivery of two still newborn babies within her private physician practice.

After hot gossip spread around the hospital parking lot, the current parents-to-be panicked, transferred, and finally disappeared from the private practice of Hera, since Hera made and collected financial monies when she delivered a healthy baby.

She delivered a healthy baby, when she had the unborn baby's parents-to-be as a medical client. And the medical clients had stopped calling her telephone landline for unborn baby appointments.

Therefore, the private obstetrical practice slowly died as the money bills thrived and grew too fast. She worked day and night in the new round-the-clock obstetrician job while she was called by the hospital to deliver one squirming rug rat after another. She was sick to death of unborn babies, desiring a new career straight out of medicine, maybe into management.

Seven days earlier

Thursday July 8th

Third National Bank

City of South Miami (159 miles north of Big Pine Key)

9:09 a.m.

At the local financial bank, Hera entered through the door on a pair of last year's designer high heels over the tan colored tile floor to see her local financial advisor, regarding her growing professional bank loans and happened to tumble a pair of her newly painted naked toe bones into Ned Nessle.

Ned was visiting the bank manager also, regarding the purchase of a mansion in Big Pine Key as a new home for him and his married wife.

Hera sat next to the eardrum on Ned inside the reception lobby, sharing and telling nasty sex jokes and then later after each respective financial meeting, they left the bank and were served a scrimp lunch at the local seafood restaurant.

Then an hour later, Hera drove behind the new sports car of Nessle to his new sea castle that was located on Florida coastline of Big Pine Key.

Then she stayed the night and beyond.

Hera enjoyed Ned, his sex, and the news of his dead wife, a suspected drug overdose at the age of eighteen years old. Hera found then loved and exhausted inside Ned's nasty world. A nasty world of whores, day and night, living and playing within the private sea castle over a sandy shoreline with cold tile floors as she enjoyed sucking up the sex, the drugs, the alcohol, and the food.

One early morning, looking for food inside the kitchen from being stoned on drugs and hungry, Hera accidentally located the dark closet and a stack of loose cash that belonged to Ned. The cash was more attractive than Ned, coming with the reward of the illegal drugs, fine booze, designer clothes, fast cars, long limousines, and a continuous party life at Big Pine Key sea castle.

Six days earlier

Friday July 9th

6:07 a.m.

Charity Key West Hospital (20 miles southwest of Big Pine Key)

Obstetrics delivery room setting

Hera raced her new sports car toward Charity Key West Hospital, parked it into any available car spot then jogged on a pair of shaky legs into the hospital and entered obstetrics delivery room minus the medical anesthetist, marching on a pair of yellow scrub booties toward a surgical tray. She pulled a hypo-needle from the cloth and jabbed the mom-to-be into the lower back, relieving the back pain.

The mom-to-be screamed with intense pain, falling down over the operating table with a cardiac heart arrest.

Hera successfully revived the mom-to-be but the unborn newborn died. However, Hera covered her yellow scrub bootie tracks very well. She was slick and stoned.

Hera and Ned had bedded two hours early.

So Hera awoke to the beeping pager with a headache inside a dizzy mind. Her hand reactions were slowly from a series of brain cells, burning bright with a series of illegal drugs.

Five days earlier

Saturday July 10th

Charity Key West Hospital

Obstetrics delivery room setting

Inside the obstetrics delivery room, Hera reached and selected the wrong hypo-needle from the stocked nurses' cart, causing a second stillborn baby from a perfectly healthy mom with a stoned mind on an illegal drug.

Hera would be blamed and would be sued by the young couple, the Charity Key West Hospital lawyers, and the US State of Florida Medical Review Board. She could not afford a high priced lawyer for a good defense and then would go directly into prison jail for murder one of criminal intent.

Hera turned marched on a pair of bloody red stained yellow scrub booties into the office of the vice president of nursing administration and tattled on the incompetent obstetrics surgical nurse.

Then the obstetrics surgical nurse was immediately transferred to another Charity Hospital within the Charity Healthcare System, quickly and quietly to appease the attending physician.

Hera back stepped and turned, strutting a pair of bloody yellow scrub booties into the director's office of the pharmacy department and tattled some more. The pharmaceutical medication was housed inside the wrong slot within the nurse's cart, causing the obstetrics surgical nurse to prepare the wrong hypo needle, leading to a dead baby plus a multi-million-dollar lawsuit for the hospital. Then the assigned pharmacist was quickly and quietly transferred to another Charity Hospital too.

Then the pharmacy director stood and ran down the hallway to shout at the central medial supply manager for not reviewing the nurse's cart of medication, causing a fatal medical error which resulted in a dead newborn baby.

The central medical supply manager stood and ran down the hallway to yell at the purchasing director for authorizing a highly expensive deadly drug within the central supply office without the proper legal documentation of the monies.

Then the purchasing director stood and raced down the hallway to scream at the vice president of finance inside the finance department for paying for a highly expensive deadly drug, without the signature of the hospital president.

Then the vice president of finance sat at the office desk and lifted the landline telephone receiver and reported the fiscal and financial matter to the director of the risk management department of the Charity Healthcare System, where the compliance officer manager conducted a thorough investigation, finding neglect and abuse of a dead newborn baby by the hospital staffers.

Then Charity Healthcare System was ordered to pay out three million dollars, settling the medical malpractice hospital lawsuit to the young childless and depressed couple. The Charity Healthcare System physician medical review board conducted a medical investigation too, following the same medical trail, leading to the same medical conclusion of the death of an unborn newborn baby inside the obstetrics delivery room at charity Key West Hospital.

And then the medical case was closed.

And the final outcome, Hera was cleared of all neglect of both dead babies.

Three days earlier

Monday July 12th

Charity Kendall Hospital administration setting

The Quartet preyed and pried into the cold blooded death of Austin's godson, using their brains, their billions, and their balls to extract the single secret clue, solving the mysterious medical murder case of the angel of death. Then, the final result was the complete elimination of the current and useless super Board of Director membership along with the key senior administration staff at all the hospitals within the Charity Healthcare System.

Austin won everything. And they lost everything.

Two days earlier

Tuesday July 13th

Charity Kendall Hospital administration setting

Frank had re-tooted the blowing whistle loud and clear to the new board of directors of super men and women, when he had re-found a set of mysterious medical errors inside the medical records at Charity Key West Hospital during the exhaustive search of the first Quartet mysterious murder medical case that involved the cold blood murder of Austin's godson.

Only a medical physician could had possibly discovered and identified these medical errors.

Frank restored the two fraudster medical records and coupled them with the two false accounting financial statements, where only an accountant could had possibly discovered and identified also.

Thus, Frank had discovered two plus two equaled one point six.

Yesterday

Tuesday July 14th

7:07 a.m.

Ten miles east inside US waters

Atlantic Ocean setting

Hera had returned back to Ned's castle, finding him long gone for some damn reason. Then she was beeped on the hip pager for another upcoming rat rug delivery, driving from Big Pine Key and returned back to Charity Key West Hospital for more legal contracted doctor work.

After the healthy baby was successfully delivered, Hera and her obstetrics surgical staff carefully watched with a shock on one of the local television monitors a vicious police officer law enforcement raid at the sea castle of Ned on Big Pine Key Island.

The police had discovered a set of illegal items, such as, guns, drugs, animal fighting rings, and fugitives, rounding up the legal raid with a suspicious boating accident. Inside the greenish-blue waves of a cold Atlantic Ocean, Ned Nessle, the owner of the sea castle and a pleasure yacht had been proclaimed dead by the local authorities.

But Hera could add wisely two plus two equaled the Quartet.

Ned had owned a small pleasure yacht that was purchased and filled with his stolen millions for fun and protection. Therefore, he did not really die in a boating accident.

Hera left the hospital and walked across the city street to the one of hired boater, waving a handful of cash dollars for a rented boat ride. She boarded and sailed the sea boat from Key West and out into the US waters within the Atlantic Oceana.

The boater was smart, locating the sinking yacht, using the last known transmission over the radio air waters from Ned which was ten miles from the shoreline of Florida and halted, drifting the ocean.

They both spotted the tail end of a sinking yacht, going down into the deep blue waters of Atlantic Ocean.

Hera turned with a stern face into the bright afternoon sun, seeing through a pair of designer dark tinted sunglasses an escaping sleek powered smaller yacht with the name Gotcha! on the rear end.

The power yacht belonged to Austin Berrington, the fourth as it slowly limped back home to Coral Beach, a private island of the billionaire bozo brothers.

The Quartet had found him, first and last. Ned had stolen millions upon millions of dollars from the wrong guys, when he cleverly created and developed an ingenious electronic system, shutting down a bank's alarm system while secretly hiring a band of merry gay-men to rob that particular targeted bank.

The pawn of stupid dudes robbed each targeted bank with a set of toy guns, without the police, blood proteins, and no problems that provided a set of fun toys for Ned, such like, a new sports car, a sea castle and a pleasure yacht.

However, the nasty reputations of the Quartet were a gang of cut-throat blood thirsty ruthless savages, much like, a ship of sea pirates during the 1800s. But the Quartet did not become a set of four billionaires by robbing good old jolly Santa Clause. You became rich by cheating, scheming, and slicing the enemy one way or the Quartet way.

Hera had learned and practiced her medical techniques all the time at numerous Charity Hospitals, modeling her skill set after the Quartet way too, until the same genius physician and lucky accountant found her numerous medical errors of death.

Present day and time

9:33 a.m.

City of Kendall (six miles southwest of Coral Beach)

Charity Kendall Hospital

Charity Healthcare System Board of Directors

Conference room meeting

The newly created Charity Healthcare System super board of men and woman sat in silence, mouth salivated, and eye stared at Hera as she stared with a pair of narrowed eyelashes right back.

Hera had preciously covered her own pair of spiked high heeled tracks of careless baby deaths with great care and was not admitting anything under oath or under a greyhound bus. And Hera was not resigning her very important physician medical post, disappearing into white painted base floor woodwork, since the nice fickle citizens of metro city Miami just might for one tiny hint think her guilty or something evil.

She softly snorted. If she had offered a surrendering of her medical post, then Hera would lose the legal medical contact and her job at the hospital, since her paid spies liked to be paid while keeping Hera abreast of the malpractice legal progress within her criminal investigation at the hospital.

Her medical liability was only with the hospital, not the United States of America, so if she left the hospital under a set of mysterious circumstances, then Hera would be bombarded with local, state, and national television media press, local and state of Florida district attorneys along with some personal mom and dad dead infant lawsuits. Her way, she would play the damsel in distress role, using the concept of reverse college psychology on the Quartet and the goody good supermen and women of the Charity Healthcare System in Miami, Florida.

Hera eyelashes turned and settled on Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third, who was her true number one enemy, since Frank was the key with her upcoming murder trial and verbal allegations of her so-called medical practices.

Frank fully understood both the medical and financial connections, testifying against her private practice in a court of law as his non-biological brother Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third drilled Hera down for the right answers to the wrong questions. So, if Hera could eliminate Frank, then she softly sneered, staring at the brilliant and handsome man.

Kill a member of the Quartet!

The four demi-gods of earth, space, and time possessed about one thousand and one cat lives who were all blessed by a set of personal assigned gawd dawn angels inside glorious heaven.

Hera had read with the rest of the world the latest buzz inside the newspapers when Austin and Tom were kidnapped but not killed by a crazy young couple that lived in Ruby Beach, a tart fishing town on western coastline of sunny Florida.

During the Florida state-wide manhunt for the mysterious angel of death, the female Mouse was mentally stupid on the limestone cliff with the gun and with her boyfriend, a more stupid Tiberius Clark, Junior. They both acted and reacted trying to kill in cold-blood the Quartet. Mouse was killed on top of the limestone cliff by another fourth of the Quartet Stuart Thant Gage, the third. Her boyfriend Tiberius was arrested for the crimes and kidnapping and attempted murder, sitting merrily inside a privately enclosed court room during the angel of death murder trial. And then something strange happened behind the closed doors of the court room, since the reporters were booted from the courtroom by Judge Sherman Cutter.

Austin shot Tiberius dead.

If only foolish Tiberius or stupid Mouse had killed the two brothers, then Frank would be mourning for his dear, lost, and dead pair of beloved non-biological brothers. Instead, Frank was alive and well, marching a pair of designer Italian leathers on top of the future gravesite of Hera.

The fickle Floridians were not forgiving to a person, especially for a baby killer, since Hera will most certainly, without any doubt be tried, convicted, and sentenced into the gas chamber in Tallahassee with no chance for justice appeal. The State of Florida moved and did things quick, easy, and fast here in Sunshine State.

Tom will prosecute her medical case in a court of law here in Miami, Florida, since he was very good, never losing a legal law case for Quartet Assholes. So, Florida justice will prevail again for the Quartet.

Hera possessed the money and the castle of her dead lover Ned Nessle but needed a better devised escape plan out from Miami, Florida.

Donald stood and scanned the table of supermen and women with a stern face. "May we have silent, please?" He sat and waited for the soft mumblings to cease, turning with a smile and a nod to see Mangrove, "Please continue, Dr. Mangrove."

Frank turned and smirk to Hera. "Thank you, Donald. I request that Dr. Hera Hernandez be immediately removed from the American accreditation medical board and her privileges at all Charity medical facilities detracted, today and forward."

"Aye," a baritone timber sound of Austin echoed inside the quiet room.

"Second it," a bass voice from Stu rumbled inside the quiet room next.

"No nays," Donald turned and scanned each face, waiting in silence and accepted the silence. He turned and nodded with a stern face to Frank.

"Tom," Frank turned and nodded with a stern face to Tom.

"Stu," Tom turned and nodded to Gage. Stu stood from the chair next to Tom, moving to the clod double doors.

The door opened, hiding Stu behind the wood, emitting a pair of blue colored uniformed Miami-Dade County police officers. Each police officer slowly moved together and stopped in front of Hera, who posed inside a conference room in front of the pretty tri-fold glass windows. The windows beautifully overlooked a duck pond, a falling waterfall, and a manicured grass park.

One of the police officer stopped and extended a folded tan colored paper to Hera. She reached and accepted in silence. The two officers pivoted, moving to the open archway. Stu nodded with a stern face to each officer. The officers exited the conference room in silence. Stu closed and guarded the twin doors, standing in front with a set of crossed arms.

"Done!" Donald said with a stern face to Hera, scanning the table with each stern face, "Any comments? Any questions?" Silent lingered for a few seconds. He said with a nod to each face, "Very good, he looked at the physician. "Dr. Hera Hernandez will be placed on permanent suspension until she can prove her case of innocence to the Charity Healthcare super board. We will give you two weeks. Do you understand, Dr. Hernandez? Until then, I dismiss this super board meeting on the date of July fifteenth at 9:39 pm."

5:05 p.m.

City of Coral Beach (six miles, northeast, from Kendall)

Dr. and Mrs. Stuart Thant Gage, III Three Coral Lane

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Stu, Jace, Tom, and Frank lounged inside the cave man at Gage's manor.

Tom sat inside the oversized chair with a grin and a giggle, wearing a pair of new Bermuda shorts, a new knit shirt, and a pair of new flip-flops, enjoying the beer and the brother. "Let me guess here. She had superpowers, right, Jace?"

Jace sipped on the beer, relaxing in a pair of older Bermuda shorts, a wrinkled T-shirt and a pair of wore flip-flops. "Right-o, Tom."

Stu sipped the beer, wearing a pair of older Bermuda shorts, a torn and wrinkled T-shirt, and a pair of worn boat shoes, cutting his eyelids to the sports page of the daily news, parked inside a lap, scanning the highlighted sporting events with a chuckle and a grin. "Wrong-o, Tom."

"She's a quark." Jace smiled to Tom.

"Quack," Tom chuckled.

"Quark," Jace smiled.

"Quack, quack," Tom laughed. "A fucking duck, I thought, she was a girl. She looks like a girl. She smells like a girl..."

"What's a girl smell like, Tom?" Stu stared down with a grin at the newspaper.

Tom lifted and wiggled a manicured index finger to Stu and then Frank with a laugh and a smile, "She smells better than you, asswipe or better than your fucking smelly ass in the hole, Franklin." He enjoyed the dog fighting, sipping on the cold beer.

Jace yelled with a sour frown, "Not a quacking duck, a quark, Thomas."

He laughed with a relaxed grin, "Explain, Quack-doctor." Tom sipped on the beer.

"Careful there, boy," Jace frowned at Tom.

Tom held a free palm and a beer in the air, without shaky the liquid inside the glass. "O. I am so scared of you, Quack doctor." Tom swiftly dropped a non-shooting hand and rubbed a square shaped bugle inside the left pocket of the new pair of Bermuda shorts that contained his Ghost and laughed. Tom sits inside an oversized tan-colored lounge chair around a low coffee table holding a beer in the right with Stu located on his left pointy elbow.

Stu rolled up the newspaper leaned over, popping the left bicep on Tom with the sports page for a pretend deadly threat to his good friend and personal physician Jace.

The weapon creation came from Stu's violent battle mindset. It was a silver tinted light metal alloy weighing seven ounces, less than a half-a-pound. The metal alloy was the top secret ingredient, only known by Stu and the privately owned USA Manufacturing Gun Company.

Buy American products!

The sleek barrel was both short and square, not round allowing an easy fit inside a left side sports jacket or a right trouser pocket, without a bulky carrying case. The gun cylinder pumped an explosive series of rectangle geometric ammunition shapes in the format of tiny razor blades. The sharp edges were so finely jagged, that a single flying projectile could penetrate and embed into a steel casing on a building.

One hit, you did not die immediately, but you could bleed to death, if the right vein was hit. If you happened to get filled with four to five of the slugs, then you could feel death, tapping on a collar bone.

That was the point of the Ghost to cause constant pain, while conscious or everlasting pain near death, while medical personnel tried really hard to save your sorry ass.

The arm pop didn't hurt on Sawyer but Tom did note that Stu possessed the daily sporting page. Tom had missed reading the entire newspaper this morning, before coming over to Stu's house and staying almost all day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Austin had closed the office doors for the Quartet to rest and recovery from the battle at sea, yesterday with Ned Nessle.

Jace smiled to each brother, "Quark is an elementary particle of fundamental matter."

Tom waved off the lecture, preferring a light-speed science fiction novel at his home. So the three brothers could play a nasty game of basketball, working off the delicious lobster and steak dinner. "No science stuff, get to the good part, Quack doctor."

Stu turned and smiled at the nose profile on Tom, "A true science fiction nut, without the science part." Frank chuckled. Jace grinned. Tom frowned. Stu said. "Tom, the point of the 'science part' is for you to learn something beside your make-believe fake physics books."

Jace restarted his science lecture for a third time. "A formed shaped quark is collectively called hadrons."

Tom turned and frowned at Stu. "Hadrons ain't sci-fi, 'cause, man, I know everything about sci-fi."

Frank wore pair of older tan colored Bermuda shorts with a short-sleeved pink button down cotton shirt and a pair of tan colored boat shoes and held a cold beer with a smile. "He means the outer reaches of cold black Milky Way Galaxy, because Tom mentally lives there. Also, please note, his alien speech patterns beginning without a proper pronoun coupled with his redneck contractions." Stu chuckled.

Jace frowned, "Quiet, Tom and Stu and Frank. Now, hadrons are isolated but have been drawn from telescopically observations of a particle matter..."

"An elementary particle of a fundamental matter," Tom used the true scientific word with a smile and a nod, sipping on the cold beer.

Stu read the sport section of the newspaper.

Jace nodded with a smile. "Right-o, Tom. The hadrons, themselves are observation pieces of a particle matter that were first discovered by the recently deceased college physics profession Fabian Icarius. He was very much a true genius in application physics."

Stu scanned the sports page, "And add into the equation, he was a cold-blooded murderer, too, Jace."

Jace continued, "Quarks have six flavors, four properties, and two forces."

"This is getting a little too much technical for me." Stu slid the sports page near the beer, reading the interesting highlights.

"The engineering god is not desireth to speaketh on a new future technology." Tom reached down and patted for his mobile telephone. "Gawd, where's my cell?" Tom leaned over and dropped the beer bottle down to the low table, pulling out the mobile telephone and turned, clicking a digital picture of the nose profile on Stu who was reading the newspaper. Maybe, Tom could use the hard evidence later for some back stabbing brotherly fun.

"Listen faster, I will explain in elementary terms and then move on to the more complex..." Jace turned and scanned the cave man space, stopping at the open archway. "Where's Austin?"

"Austin?" Frank frowned.

"Austin's missing." Jace turned and frowned to Frank.

"Nope," Tom leaned over the arm chair rest, trying to read some of the bold black highlights on the sports page with a pair of narrowed eyelids.

"He's with Athena in Ruby Beach." Frank smiles and then sipped the beer. Stu turned and nodded with a grin to Frank.

Tom leaned over and stole the newspaper from the lap of Stu with a left hand.

"Ya know his personal agenda, Frank?" Stu frowned.

"I know Berrington." Frank chuckled.

Stu looked down with a smile to see an empty lap with a gasp. Tom had slid the sports page onto a left armchair, reading about the game.

Jace turned and smiled to Frank. "The model was proposed by two physicists named Murray Gell-Mann and George Zweig in the year 1964..."

Tom flipped the folded newspaper over, looking up with a sour frown to see Jace. "No fucking planet Earth history lesson, Quack doc, only a deeply embedded single science point of view."

"I concur with the sci-fi nut." Stu leaned over and slid a right hand underneath the arm rest grabbing and stole the sports page back from the lap on Tom with a smile and a chuckle, resting it inside a lap.

Tom turned and leaned over the arm rest and snatched the newspaper back with a giggle and a grin.

"He didn't respond." Frank smiled at fighting Tom and Stu over the daily newspaper which Frank had read very early this morning before coming over to Stu's castle.

"Hey, sci-fi nut!" Stu leaned over the arm rest and stole back the sports page out on Tom's spidery fingers.

Tom followed the flying newspaper through the air and leaned over the arm rest, reading the same sports article with Stu. "What?"

"Please precede, Jace." Frank enjoyed watching his brothers and hearing all the new scientific stuff from Jace, regarding the unusual medical condition of Athena as a non-practicing medical physician, of course. He sipped on the cold beer.

"Flavors are..." Jace smiled.

"Coffee," Tom giggled, "Call your man-servant in here. Get me some coffee ice cream, Stu?"

Stu frowned down at the newspaper, since he and Gracie did not have a team of live-in twenty-hour house servants like Tom.

Then Tom reached and stole the sports page from the arm of Stu without receiving any cup of coffee with a giggle and a grin, staring down at the same article, "How's about adding some chocolate ice cream flavor to that first order, Stu?"

Jace huffed then puffed with frustration, "I'm going to start all over from square one, if you and you don't be quiet, Stuart and Thomas."

"Shut the fuck up, Tom." Stu leaned over the back of the chair and tried to steal the newspaper from the armpit on Tom. Sawyer shifted to the far side of the oversize chair, whipping the newspaper away from the wiggling finger pads of Stu.

"The flavors are up, down, charm, strange, top, and bottom." Jace smiled. "It deals with masses of high and low energy collisions. Charm is high."

"She charmed you, huh?" Tom looked up with a giggle and a wink to Jace.

Stu reached over the flat chest on Tom, stealing the sports page and tucked it underneath is armpit, sliding to the left of his chair, far, far away from the arm right span on Tom.

Tom turned and stuck a pink tongue tip at Stu.

Stu chuckled. Frank frowned.

Jace continued with a smile, "The four properties are electric charge, color change, spin, and mass."

Frank watched as his two silly two brothers fought for the newspaper. "I thought mass was in the flavor."

"I'm getting to that part, Frank." Jace nodded with a smile.

Tom scooted an ass over the edge of his assigned seat, swaying side to side with a nervous tick, parking a pair of folded hands between his dick with a smile, "Hurry and finish, Jace?"

"Why, Tom?" Jace frowned.

"Potty break?" Tom giggled with a grin.

Frank snorted. Jace frowned.

"Go now and get outta my man cave, Tom! Out of my favorite chair, ya fucking pup," Stu turned and pointed the archway with a sneer.

Tom stood with a giggle and turned, trotting on a pair of flip flops out the archway.

5:25 p.m.

Tom slowly moseyed on a pair of flips flops into the man cave with the front page of the newspaper underneath a right armpit and a new bottle of beer in a left hand. He softly whistled in tenor and strutted back to his assigned seat, turning and sat. Tom gently leaned over and placed the beer on top of the low table, leaning back into the soft leather chair and flipped open the newspaper. He silently read the bold black highlights.

Jace smiled at the blond hair roots on Tom. "The four properties are electric charge, color change, spin, and mass. The forces are..."

"What?" Tom looked up with a confused brow to see Jace. "Wait, you didn't continue the science lesson without me, Jace."

Jace smiled, "No, Thomas, I waited upon your royal ass to return and sat inside the throne chair of the man cave."

"What the hell for, Jace?" Tom frowned.

"Stu ordered me, too." Jace smiled. Frank chuckled.

Tom swung a puzzled face to see Stu, who was bored with all the new future science stuff too. Stu sniggered with a nod.

Jace smiled. "The two forces are..."

"...used and read only inside my sci-fi books." Tom exhaled with a sour frown.

"Quiet, Tom. So, Jace can finish this stuff." Stu reached and stole the unguarded front page of the newspaper with a hand between the ten fingers on Tom.

Tom silently curses, turning and leaning over the arm rest, reading the article on the front page of the newspaper while sorta listening to Jace.

"The two forces are electromagnetism and gravitation which can be sub-classified with a strong or a weak interaction. Every flavor has an anti-particle or anti-quark." Jace smiled.

Tom swung a happy face from the newspaper and to see Jace. "Anti-particle or an anti-quark, wow, what about anti-quarks? Geez, go on! Explain the concept of an anti-quark, Quack doc."

"A single quark can possess a single or multiple colored tints, permanently changed when collided or caused by a strong interaction between two or more different quarks." Jace said.

"The six flavors and two forces must instigate that quark interaction, right, Jace?" Tom scooted an ass on the edge of his seat with a smile and a nod at Jace.

"Right-o, Thomas." Jace nodded.

Stu grunted, reading the newspaper.

Frank grinned.

Jace smiled. "There are two families of hadrons. The two families are baryons and mesons."

Tom bounced up and down on a pair of flip flops on the edge of the seat with a smile and a nod. "Wow, it sounds like the two classes in the foreign country of Great Britain a long, long time ago with the royal noble barons and working class masons."

"Your science fiction analogy is very, very close, Tom." Jace said. "The baryons are the protons and the neutrons..."

"Wow, the blocking two blocks of an atomic nucleus, the protons, and neutrons." Tom nodded with a smile.

"Right-o, Tom." Jace smiled. "After the initial discovery of the quark's physical entity, the word was original spelled as k-w-o-r-k. It was changed due to the creative way the object twirled inside the nature particle, going up and then down and then top and then bottom, living with either a short and long life span. Therefore, it is called a quark of nature."

Stu scanned the newspaper with a smile. "And then there is Tom, a quark of a native." He turned and smiled at Frank. "Or would it be a quark of an earthling? What do you think, Frank?"

Tom turned and frowned at Stu. "Shut the fuck up, Stu. This is some real serious shitty science stuff by sober and smartie Jace, the Quark doctor."

Jace continued. "The electric charge constitutes a standard science theory of a nucleus, built with both neutrons and protons. The neutrons and protons have the same charges of zero and positive one. The spin of a quark is visual like a planet rotation around an object, particular around the body frame of Athena. That was how Icarius find her, at first. Based on his excellent detailed scientific research notes, Icarius presented that a single quark can possess one color charge of blue, green or pink, which complemented by an anti-color of anti-blue, anti-green, and anti-pink."

"Wow, I wished that I were anti-blue." Tom tilted a chin with a pair of dreamy blue eyeballs, staring at the far wall above the skull bone of Jace.

Stu stared down with a smile and a chuckle at the newspaper, "Gawd, he's a loony-toony, Frank. Zap him with one of your little baby tap needles, just in case..."

Jace nodded with a smile. "The dual system of attraction and repulsion between the color charges are called Quantum Chromo Dynamics or QCD. One color value can form a bound with one or multiple anti-quarks..."

"I wanna be a dual color charge of anti-green and anti-blue." Tom turned and nodded with a smile to Jace. "What color charge of quark would I be, Jace?"

"Shit." Stu laughed. Frank snorted. Jace smiled at Tom.

Tom turned and frowned to Stu and then Jace. "Shit is brown colored, Stu. So, would I be brown colored, Jace?"

"My mostest, bestest scientific highly post-college researcher educated guess, Tom, is you would be a pretty aqua color." Jace smiled with a nod.

Stu and Frank laughed their asses off.

Tom cocked a jaw line to the right, smiling at the far wall above the skull bone of Jace, "Wow, I like aqua. Jane would be mostest, bestest pleased with my color charge, too."

Stu chuckled. "Gawd, zap Tom's ass with two tap needles and then call the Charity psych ward quickly, Franklin." Frank and Jace laughed as Stu rattled the next page of the newspaper with a sour frown.

Tom turned and frowned at Stu. "I'm calling Austin." He stood and patted down the clothing for his mobile telephone.

Frank chuckled. "Tom means that he is tattle tailing to Austin on his wickedly step brothers, us."

Stu read the newspaper with a stern face and a serious tone. "Sit, Tom. If you disturb Austin, then I will beat your ass anti-black and anti-blue, improving your anti-quark color charge, to boot."

Tom ignored the pretend threat, since Jace would protect him from one to many of Stu's violent and vicious painful punches. They were friends now, since the shared discovery of the real scientific theorem of anti-quarks. Tom sat back down with a sissy whine to Jackson, "Jace?"

"Enough, pups." Frank frowned at the pair of barking, biting, and peeing pups, since Austin was on vacation with Athena in Ruby Beach, where she was going to live for the rest of her days from Miami.

Jace ignored both the puppy play of silly Tom and serious Stu, saying with a smile to Tom. "Neutrality is the same unit a quark and an anti-quark which has been joined together for a value of zero. The color change is white and the formation family is meson."

"Meson is a working class quark. That makes sense to me, it would be white or invisible to the other attacking nobles," Tom nodded with a smile to Jace.

Jace smiled, "Right-o, Tom! Baryons are three or more quark or anti-quarks combinations."

"The royal class, they are visible to the naked eyeballs like...like me." Tom slapped a chest with a smile and a nod of snobbiness, bouncing up and down on the edge of the cushion with the new thrilling science datum.

"Right-o, Tom," Jace chuckled. "The mass represents the binding energy of the quark, not the weight. A high bucket of energy produces a strong interaction of selected colors..."

"What color is Athena, Jace?" Tom frowned.

"Pink." Jace smiled.

"Ah, for a little girl," Tom giggled with a grin, bouncing up and down on the edge of the cushion. "See, I'm blue. I know that I'm a boy...male...man."

"A cave man with a set of cave man brains and a pair of cave man ears," Stu read the newspaper with a grin.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom bounced up and down on the flip flops at the edge of the seat cushion.

"As the distance between the quarks increases, the binding force strengthens. And the color field becomes stressed much like an elastic band. When the color field is stretched then more color confinement forms, this is described as a cloud or a shield around the hadrons..."

"Or goddesses," Tom bounced up and down over the edge with a smile and a nod.

"In this case, it is a physical object, not a celestial body, Tom." Jace chuckled.

"A Greek goddess named Athena. The stars never fib, Jace." Tom continued to bounce up and down on his flip flops inside his assigned chair.

"Another fucking freak of nature," Stu read the newspaper with a sour frown.

Tom turned and frowned at the nose profile on Gage, "No, Stu, a quark of nature."

Stu looked up with a stern face to see Jackson. "Jace, I understand the four fundamental interactions of contemporary physics which are electromagnetism, gravitation, strong interaction, and weak interaction. However, gravitation is irrelevant on a sub-atomic scale. Heavier quarks were created in high-energy collision in the formation of the Big Bang theory, when the universe fluctuated in an extremely hot and dense phase called the quark epoch," exhaling. "Heavier quarks are also conducted artificially within a particle accelerator for tomcat curious scientists for on-going research studies of UV light, x-rays, and infrared light. And the infrared light could not have been the Source that was directly beamed down to a human girl named Athena with a color charge reading of pink tint around a biological and chemical and magnetic electro body."

Tom stopped bouncing up and down inside the chair, turning to see Stu and Jace with a confused brow.

Jace nodded to Stu. "She isn't radiated, Stu. One, she couldn't live. Two, we couldn't live. Three, other life forms couldn't live. Therefore, her pink light is a simple physical field of electrically charged protons and neutrons of the quark field..."

"An electromagnetic field extends indefinitely throughout space and time and interacts, Jace." Stu nodded.

"Key word, here, is a strong interaction in this case." Jace nodded.

"A strong interaction within any atomic field is propagated by radiation factors, Jace." Stu said.

"Correct, Stu! But this particular electromagnetic field is an order of increasing energy which is collectively called a quark. No radio waves. No microwaves. No infrared light. It is only a cloud of naked eyeball visible light, whether it is ultraviolet, x-rays, or gamma rays that have combined within the electric and the magnetic fields. Thus, they all join together like a happy family, producing the pink color charge, emitting from Athena's body which is called a heavenly aura, also." Jace smiled. Stu grunted with a sour frown. Tom listened with a smile. Jace continued. "An electric field produces a vertical stationary charge of pink quarks and then a magnetic field moves the currents like a horizontal flowing river. The quark creates a physical and a visual object that lives, walks, talks, and breathes on planet Earth, not a dying pulsar star or a developing black hole in outer space. Right, Thomas?"

"Yeah, man, right, Jace. Jace is the Quark doctor here, Stu. You're just a low-end quark of nature. I bet his color charge is a shitty asshole brown going along with his shitty asshole attitude. Right, Jace?" Tom turned and sniggered at Stu.

Stu rolled his eyeballs and looked back at Jace with a sour frown. "I'm not convinced, Jace. It or she or he or a quark doesn't fit into a standard physic science definition."

"From the classical physics perspective, Athena emits a series of smooth, continuous electric and magnetic combo field of wave-like pink matter. The wave-like pink field is composed of individual particles of matter. I verified and confirmed all this scientific information along with the scientific researchers here at the Miami-Dade University science physics department. There's a new working theory, regarding the creation of an 'anti-color' barrier which can counter the pink quark and maybe de-amplify the pink charge around Athena's body frame. Athena has volunteered to personally work with the scientists here at the university, maybe fixing her magnetic condition." Jace smiled.

Stu rolled his eyeballs and then looked down with a sour frown to read the newspaper.

Tom started bouncing up and down inside the chair again while listening with a smile to smart ass Jace.

"Can Athena be cured of the quarks, Jace? You haven't explained the scientific how behind the quarks assimilated around her biological body." Frank asked.

"She is simply born with the quarks." Jace nodded.

"I wished that I was born with a set of bright neon green quarks." Tom smiled with a nod. "I'd be a superhero. Wow, I would be a very good superhero, not a very bad super asshole."

Stu looked up with a sour frown to see Tom and Jace. "Please provide some more unexplained scientific theorem, Jace, before Tom jumps out of his thirty third floor window on Monday morning as a non-flying superhero." Stu turned and smiled at Frank. "Better yet, Frank, tap three little needles into Tom's neck and then let Jace take him home for a quark body research."

Frank turned and smiled to Tom. "Let the bastard jump out of his thirty third window suit on Monday morning."

Tom stopped bouncing and frowned at Frank. "Hey, not nice, Franklin, Misty would be really upset along with Gracie and Jane, if something bad really happened to me..."

".... like an exploding pale tinted and skinny six feet upright body." Stu chuckled, "When a person suddenly disintegrates into flaming red and gray ashes from a swift fire."

"Stu is referencing the medically unexplained phenomenon of human combustion." Jace said.

"I wished that Tom had that super human ability." Stu laughed.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu." Tom turned and frowned to Stu.

"Spontaneous human combustion or SHC are a set of scientific cases, where a living and breathing human body without an apparent external source of ignition ignites and burning into a pile of gray ashes." Jace said. "Every human body contains varying strengths of electrical fields along with flammable gases. Your body has methane inside the intestines. So an electrical discharge could ignite the gases in turn..."

"Burning ya up." Tom giggled with a grin, bouncing up and down inside the chair again.

"Wrong-o, Thomas." Stu frowned.

"Right-o, Tom," Jace chuckled and then sung in baritone notes. "Hum..."

"Hum with me. Hey, Jace wants to sing a song, right, man?" Tom leaned over and touched the beer, sipping the bottle.

Stu hummed with sour frown. "Hum?"

Jace smiled. "During the 1950s, some particularly gifted earthlings started hearing an annoying, low-frequency humming or baritone throbbing or bass rumbling sound between their eardrums."

"Crazy folks, Jace," Tom chuckled and then sipped the beer.

Jace continued. "The Hum is heard inside the house, not outdoors, being louder at night than during the day, common to rural country, not urban cities. Scientists have theorized the steady eardrum noise comes from the streaming sounds of cars, airplanes, Tom's obnoxious tenor..."

"Hey, man." Tom turned with a sour and sent Jace an evil eyeball or two.

Jace smiled. "The Hum has been heard and documented by people in such geographical hot spots like Taos, New Mexico and Bristol, England and Windsor, Ontario. Only two percent Hum-prone people have heard the mysterious sound. They fit between the ages of fifty-five to seventy years old, according to an old study by an acoustical consultant named Geoff Leventhal of Surrey, England. The individuals are called 'hummers' and had described the sound like a diesel engine idling. The hearing sound is kinda like a torture, making you want to scream with pain. The Hummers suffer from numerous clinical symptoms from headaches, nausea, dizziness, nose bleeding to sleeping disturbances."

Frank reached and pulled out his mobile telephone, tapping on the tiny screen, accessing the information. He read out loud for the normal eardrums, "Interesting, Jace. The internet states that the foreign city of Bristol, England is one of the first places that had reported and has documented the Hum. In the 1970s, eight hundred people heard a steady thrumming sound. The British Government blamed the humming noise on local car traffic and the local manufacturing factories, where the working laborers labored in a set of twenty-four hour shifts.

"In Taos, New Mexico which is here in the US, in the spring of 1991, some of the residents heard and confirmed with each other, a low-level rumbling noise. A team of researchers from Los Alamos National Laboratory, the University of New Mexico, Sandia National Laboratories were then and are now still unable to identify the source of the Hum-sound.

"In the foreign city of Windsor, Ontario, a team of scientists from the University of Windsor and Western University in London, Ontario is trying to determine the cause of the Hum sound. And in the foreign seaside Hum hotspot of Bondi, Sydney, Australia for several years now, a team of researches has not found an answer sound of the Hum-prone people." He looked up with a sour frown to each brother.

Jace nodded with a smile. "The research scientists expressed that the phenomenon is real, not fake. And for Tom's eardrums, it is not an extraterrestrial that is beaming down a single signal to planet Earth from a star ship." He chuckled with Frank and Stu. Tom frowned. Jace said. "The scientists have traced and tracked the Hum to a set of high-pressure gas lines or electrical power lines or wireless communication devices or other linked mechanical or electrical sources. However, some of the gifted scientists have guessed that the Hum is a dosage of low-frequency electromagnetic radiation which is audible only to a particular group of gifted peoples. The verified and confirmed people cases possess a set of particular sensitivities to signals, which are outside the normal range of human hearing."

Frank continued to read out loud on his mobile telephone. "Medical experts have tested for tinnitus. Tinnitus is the perception of sound without any type of external noise present. But, all the gifted folks have normal hearing and no occurrences of tinnitus."

Jace smiled. "Scientists have guessed that environmental factors are to blame, including some type of seismic activity, such as, microseisms. Those are very faint, low-frequency earth tremors, generated by the action of ocean waves. In the final play, the Hum-prone hummers continue to hear the Hum and use noise machines and other devices to reduce or eliminate the annoying bass drum noise inside a head."

"Wow, I wished that I could be a Hum-prone person with a set of coupled anti-blue quarks and neon green quarks. I would be the greatest superhero of the universe." Tom tilted a chin with a smile, staring at the far wall above the skull bone of Jace.

Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom. "Jeezus Christ, Tom, you are a hum-dumb prick who is colored in a night-in-the glow ghostly-pale. Am I right, Frank?"

Frank chuckled with a nod at Tom. "Close enough, Stuart."

Tom buzzed his lips, turning to stare at Jace. "Jace, please, do something mean to these two annoying tarts like paint their quark color charge in pretty ugly?"

Jace nodded with a smile to Stu. "The Hum-prone people and goddess Athena with her quark sensitiveness have been and will continue to be a mystery for many, many years to come, Stu."

"See, Athena does have her own set of super powers. I'm right. You're wrong. Nanny, nanny, boo, boo." Tom turned and stuck a pink tongue to Stu.

"Zap him, Frank!" Stu flung the newspaper to the floor and stood with soft snigger. "I'll hold the quark body. Do it, now." Stu stomped a flip flop toward Tom as Frank and Jace laughed without standing or moving.

"Jane..." Tom stood with a gasp and turned with a worried brow from Stu, swiftly running on a pair of new flip flops from the cave man and his evil step brothers.

The men leaned back into the chairs and laughed their asses off.
Wednesday July 15th

11:11 a.m.

City of Pinecrest (six miles southeast of Coral Beach)

Home of freshly dead Betty Bug

Living room setting

Warm temperatures and light rain showers without sunshine

Each police officer wore a pair of sunglasses, a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored walking shorts, and a pair of boat shoes, swiftly dashing from a shared non-marked police department assigned sedan through the light rain shower, dangling a police badge from the neck.

They moved over the vanilla sideway and stopped underneath the staircase, turning and marched up the stairs to the fourth floor of the apartment building, surveying the trees, the rain, the street, the corridor, and all the other closed apartment doors with a stern face.

The short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan, stopping and opened the door and entered the room with a stern face to see the police officer. "I am Detective Loree of the Miami-Dade homicide police division. This is my partner Detective Hardy." Hardy was a tall overweight woman with a ghostly pale complexion without makeup.

The uniform police officer of Pinecrest police department stood inside the living room of the apartment with a stern face, "I have a laptop for you, detectives. Please use it to enter your comments and observations. All the photographs had been finished but the forensics team has not had a chance to comb through the apartment yet until you finish your investigation. The crime scene has not been disturbed." He extended the computer to Loree.

Loree accepted and cuddled the laptop into a chest, moving ahead into the living room setting with a stern face, scanning the room. "Rain all day today."

"Thanks, officer," Hardy nodded with a stern face, moving with Loree into the living room.

The interior room was an open Florida room that held a set of sitting tan colored furniture and a dining room set of light pine wood. Each viewing window showed a view of the forest.

Loree halted and handed the laptop to his partner Hardy. Hardy stopped and accepted the laptop, moving and stopped in front of an empty dining room table, placing the laptop over the hard surface. She opened the lid and pressed the button, searching for the new file of the dead girl.

Loree moved to the wall of windows and stopped with a frown. "All I can see is green lush and thick forestland..."

She found the file on the dead girl with a smile. "What no history of Pinecrest?"

"I don't much about Pinecrest but it is solid forestland of exotic trees like coconut fruit, mango fruit and spidery mangrove and wide Banyan trees. This apartment complex is on the so-called shoreline in Pinecrest, except there really isn't a sandy shoreline of Florida. It is only powdery seashell. The further south you drive a car down the coastline, the rocker the shoreline becomes."

Hardy read the information on the laptop out loud. "She is named Betty Bug...

He laughed. "You are shitting me. Her real name is Betty Bug."

"Her real name is Betty Bug."

"What nationality is a bug name?" Loree stood in place, whipping out his mobile telephone with a grin, typing a text and waited for the answer. "The surname of Bug comes from various foreign countries like England, Germany and Russia. In England, the word 'bugge' that creates the word bug.

"Betty Bug is single and never married. Well, that is one clue that is a common factor with each dead girl, so far. Each dead girl is single and alone without a boyfriend."

"We should try to track down a boyfriend of one of the girls."

He turned and moved around the room, scanning the furniture, the walls, the floor, and the windows. "We did that. Each girl is also a pretty whore with dozens of friendly men. That is our problem with each murder case. We can't spend days and weeks tracking down all their friendly lovers." He circled around the room and entered the bedroom, shouting. "There is one bedroom, nice and cozy with a purple bed spread. The bed is made." He returned and stopped in the middle of the Florida room with a nod. "That is only clue. Each house contained a set of made beds. But we will find that out from the forensics report. Each girl, so far, had died between six in the evening and eight at night, before bedtime."

Hardy read the information on the laptop. "She owns a car that's parked something inside the complex parking lot. We will let the forensics team figure that one out. She lives alone, not married. She is twenty-four years old. She has a bachelor's degree in nursing from Miami-Dade University. Her parents live in the Doral area. She works at Charity Coral Gables Hospital."

Loree turned and moved, stopping and standing in front of the dead girl. "O no, another medical mysterious murderer case, she looks freshly dead less than twenty-four hours that was the case with all the other freshly dead girls, too. So she was murdered last night on July fourteenth after dinner. We will let the forensic team confirm that death information, too. And again, there is not any forced entrance, such like, a broken window or busted down door, either. Who found her?"

Hardy said. "A fellow nurse, they carpooled each morning. She entered an unlocked apartment and found her dead co-worker. Then the other nurse called 911 on her personal cell phone. See, there is another common clue, the unlocked front door to each dead girl case. So, someone knows each girl. We just have to find the common person who is really the killer."

He turned and moved, stopping and stood in front of the dead girl with a stern face. "She is clearly posed and blue colored. She holds a mirror."

"A mirror?" Hardy back stepped from the dining room table and turned, moving to the sitting chair, staring down at the girl and the mirror. "There is a mirror inside her left hand. That's only clue, each girl held an object in a left hand. I bet this girl was not left-handed. So the killer is left-handed. Lefties think like that with the right side of the brain."

He nodded with a stern face, staring at the girl, "Hmm, an interesting observation, hardy."

She back stepped and turned, moving back to the dining room table, leaning down and typed all the additional observations into the laptop. "A left- handed killer who dates only single pretty girls. The girl lives alone and has a good career. However, each girl possesses different prettiness and different careers and different lifestyles. This is really a complicated murder case. But I do feel that each girl is related somehow to each other, not by blood kin either."

He frowned. "Why she is holding a mirror? What does a mirror have to do with her job as a nurse?"

She continued to type inside the laptop with a stern face. "Something..."

He frowned. "I don't think so, Hardy. Each girl was posed with a specific object in a left hand, such like, a ballerina shoe, an artist paint brush, a tennis ball, a one-hundred-dollar bill, and a flag. These particular objects represented their career job pathway. However, this girl is a nurse. Should she be holding a stethoscope, not a mirror?"

Hardy typed on the laptop, entering all of the verbal questions and comments. "I agree. Maybe, she leaves the stethoscope inside her nursing office during the day. She worked the day shift and came home at night."

He turned and moved around the room, stopping and stood in place, kicking over the cloth bag without contaminating the crime scene with his fingerprints. The contents of the bag fell down and spilled over the floor. "There is blue colored stethoscope here inside her personal handbag. I think we found a flaw within the killer's pattern. The killer didn't find and use the stethoscope that clearly represented her nursing job. The girl is still wearing her nursing uniform. So the nurse met and greeted someone here inside her apartment after her working shift. So the killer killed her without finding and using the stethoscope. I would guess that mirror might contain the killer's fingerprints, this time."

She frowned. "I would guess not. This killer is bold and ruthless. The killer has selected the mirror for a special purpose. I am clueless to why or how or what or who or whatever. Do you have any more comments to add into the laptop, Loree?"

He laughed. "No, other thing another sizzling hot murder mystery mess to me with no finger prints, no broken glass windows, no hidden clues, and no leads."

Hardy closed the lid, back stepping from the dining room table and turned, moving to the dead girl and stood with a stern face beside Loree. "I finished our combined entries inside the laptop. She possesses red hair with a tone of pink skin and pretty blue eyes and a mirror. Well, we will figure it out sooner or later that's why we were assigned to the freshly dead girl cases." She back stepped and turned, moving to the police officer on the wall and stopped, handing over the laptop with a stern face and a nod. "Do you have any comments about the dead girl, officer?"

The police officer accepted the laptop and turned with a stern face to see the dead girl inside the sitting chair. "Yes, ma'am, I have a single comment but it is only a gut instinct, not a hard true police officer fact."

Loree moved and stopped, standing beside Hardy and in front of the police officer, saying with a smile and a nod. "I am interested in your gut instinct, officer. Please feel free to share with us."

The police officer stared with a stern face at the dead girl and returned to see Hardy. "I believe that the killer is a man. A male will date a variety of girls, mostly to find a loving wife or a permanent lover for his body companionship. I believe that each girl shared the same male lover. I don't know the profile of the male lover. But it would explain the wide variety of dead girls coming from a different background and a different culture, where one male lover was the common factor."

Loree nodded with a smile to the police officer. "That's a very good observation, officer. Have you ever thought about transferring into homicide section? You would make an excellent detective with an analytic mind like that."

He smiled with a nod, "No, sir."

Loree nodded with a wink. "You should consider it. And I will make a note of your bold observation, a shared male lover. We can work that angle as well to try to locate a common factor."

"Please send in the forensics team. We have finished our investigation." Hardy nodded with a smile. "Thanks officer for the use of the laptop and your gut instinct. Have a nice day!"

The police officer nodded with a smile, opening the front door. "You, too, detectives."

Hardy and Loree turned and moved through the archway, dashing down the staircase, moving to the unmarked police car and entered the vehicle, leaving the apartment complex of Pinecrest.
Sunday July 18th

6:23 a.m.

City of South Miami (three miles west of Coral Beach)

Charity South Miami Hospital emergency room setting

Warm temperatures and thunderstorms

Tom studiously stared at the opposite pretty pink-painted wall inside the private emergency suite of Charity South Miami Hospital, turning to see his beautiful and intelligent wife.

Jane peacefully slept on top of an emergency room bed with a warm blanket, after losing the six-week old baby fetus. They had both so excited with the most happiness at a single loving event, since their wedding day.

Marriage was hard work. A working job was easier than a blessed marriage.

The fights. The sacrifices. The compromises. The arguments. The love. The fucking. The good times. The bad times. All those things made up a good-stay-together marriage.

Tom knew about lots of unhappy couples with an upcoming divorce or a re-marrying wedding with a different spouse, since a loving and staying together couple was a lot of hard work.

A child cemented the marriage walls together, since Jane had wanted a baby for the past six months. And then it happened.

One day, there was not a baby and the next day, there was a baby.

Tom was so happy, finally going to be a father. He was going to have a son and he would have named his son after himself. As a son had been birthed in his extended biological family, since the year 1838. His great grandfather had a son. His grandfather had a son and his father had a son. The dynasty line was almost like a destiny, a fate, and now, a tragedy.

Tom did not understand the universe, since he was a good person, attending church almost every Sunday morning while feeling shock, horror, sadness, guilt, and shame inside his deeply mixed and embedded emotions, regarding the aborted baby. His deep dark sad thoughts lingered permanently, watching his wife sleep.
Monday July 19th

9:13 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (five miles west of Coral Beach)

Quartet Associates headquarters

Chief executive officer Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV

33rd floor level business suite setting

Hot temperatures with partly sunny

The sports car stopped and drove through the security gate, parking inside the designated spot underneath the Quartet Tower as the driver sat inside the seat, staring at the wall, feeling sadness and angry.

Stu gently closed his car door, moving and stood near the parked sports car of Sawyer.

Tom opened the door, swinging out with a sad face, nodding in silence to his brother Stu.

"Bro, how ya holding up?" Stu said with a worried brow, standing inside the private parking deck at the shared business of Quartet Associates.

Tom slowly turned and gently slammed the car door shut. "Okay," he spun around, looking down with a sad face to see the vanilla-colored concrete and moved with a steady pace beside Stu. The two men entered and swung around and sat on top of the long sofa inside the open carriage, a set of private elevators for the Quartet only.

The elevator doors closed. Then the carriage smoothly and swiftly flew upward in silence to the thirty-third floor of the business suites of Quartet Tower.

"I'm so sorry, bro." Stu said with a soft timber and stared down at his polished leathers, instead on Tom.

"Thanks," Tom exhaled and stared down with a sad face at a pair of old blue colored leathers.

"How's Janey?" Stu knew the answer as he was updated every hour by his worried wife Gracie.

"Coping..." Tom stared with a sad face at his old and polished leathers.

"She's a strong woman. She can handle..." Stu tried to ease the eternity pain

Tom looked up with a sneer and a sour frown to the bald skull of Stu. "Don't!"

Stu exhaled and looked up with a sad face to see the angry in Tom. "Back to work, I see."

Tom turned and exhaled at the closed elevator doors, standing and waiting in front of the closed doors.

The carriage stopped. The doors opened.

Tom moved ahead with a huff of annoyance and sadness, tapping over the private corridor of the penthouse floor of Quartet Associates. He didn't feel like socializing or greeting any co-workers, friends, family members, and especially a set of three annoying non-biological brothers today, tomorrow, or the next day. He wanted to quickly review any new or old outstanding legal cases and then discuss the legal issues with his best law man Richard Richardson. Richardson could deal with the legal eagle stuff at Quartet Associates for the next several days, while Tom comforted Jane and himself about the loss of their unborn child, a son.

Tom marched on the left side of the hallway toward his private business office number four.

Stu moved ahead, passing Sawyer and stopped before the closed archway on Tom's office, turning with a stern to face Sawyer, "Tom."

Tom stared down with a sad face at the clean floor of a long quiet hallway. "What?"

"This way!" Stu thumbed back over a collar bone to the throne room of Austin, where a single door stood alone on the side of the wall the office desk of Madeline. The throne room was occupied by the CEO of Quartet Associates, every damn day and afternoon.

"My office is that way." Tom looked up with a sour frown to the closed door of his office on the left side of the wall next to the ugly art piece that was selected by asshole Frank. Inside the executive office suit of Sawyer, a set of double bay windows overlooked a colorful manicured flower garden and a pink water fountain, since fresh drinking water was a hot premium in South Florida.

"We...."

"We, what!" Tom yelled with a confused brow.

"We have another case." Stu thumbed back over a collar bone to the throne room with a stern face.

Throne room setting of Austin

9:32 a.m.

The executive office for Austin ran in a geographical direction from north to south which was parallel to Miracle Mile, the popular city street within the city of Coral Gables. An eastern view offered a pair of undivided rectangular glass windows, showing off the people, the shops, and the vanilla-colored sidewalks on the ground level. A western wall displayed a single door in middle of the wall which was surrounded by vertical panes of two-way body-width glass mirrors inside the reception lobby, reflecting awaiting friends or foes of Austin.

A northwest wall corner held the sitting nook on Tom, a white leather chaise lounge. The lounge stood next to a small wooden table for a hot cup of coffee and a stack of science fiction magazines.

A southwest wall corner contained an oversized leather white chair between an arm side table for beverages and refreshments inside the throne room and a second oversized white leather chair.

Facing the southern wall paint of white, Stu occupied the left side. Frank sat on right. Both chairs were posed in a diagonal direction across from the throne desk of Austin.

The north and south plaster walls were empty, devoid of books, wood shelving, trophies, personal pictures, art paintings, and filing work cabinets, only white paint that gleaned from the hot Florida sunshine of a morning sunrise.

Tom exhaled and moved ahead, scooting around Stu with a loud curse, across the reception lobby without Madeline and stopped, standing in front of an open archway, jabbing a finger with a surly yell at Austin. "Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck you, I'm not a private dick. I'm not a spy. I'm not a police man. I'm a lawyer. I'm trained to be a lawyer. I want to do law stuff, not fucking other gawd damned stuff. Got it! Get it! Good fuckingly right," Tom stood with a sour frown and a sneer inside the open archway, not moving inside the throne room with an old matching briefcase in a left hand.

Stu moved and shoved skinny Tom into the throne room with a soft chuckle and a smile as he was the peacekeeper of the Quartet for the new work day at Quartet Associates, "Come inside, Tom."

Tom tilted a bicep flow to the side, not moving toward his assigned chair with a sneer and a sour frown. "No!"

Frank smiled with a brotherly tone. "Sit down, Tom."

Tom stared and sneered at Austin. "No!"

"Stand up, Tom!" Frank chuckled at his brother.

Tom turned and sneered to Frank. "Fuck you, Mangrove."

Stu turned and winked to Frank at the early morning impromptu meeting with his brothers, since the morning was not going good for Tom before a cup of sugary coated and sweet milk hot cup of coffee. "Tommy's in a very bad mood."

"Fuck you, Gage." Tom turned with a sneer and jabbed a finger to Stu.

Austin exhaled, sitting inside his throne chair with a fatherly tone. "Tom, we're..."

"Fuck you, Austin! Ya don't know how I feel," Tom turned with a sour frown and a sneer, jabbing a finger at Austin, feeling sadness of the loss of his unborn baby from Jane's miscarriage.

"I can understand." Frank nodded with a stern face to the nose profile on Tom.

Tom turned with a sour frown and a sneer, jabbing a finger at Mangrove. "No, Mangrove, ya fuckingly don't. You can't. You're not me."

Austin nodded with a grin. "Go home, Tom, for the day. We can update you on tomorrow morning."

Tom turned with a sneer and jabbed a finger at Austin. "Fuck all of ya'll. I will go home when I want to go home. Secondly, I am not working on any more missing person, bizarre Austin-fuck-the girl cases."

"You're getting a little insulting there, Tom." Austin said with a stern face and a serious tone.

Tom jabbed a finger and a sneer at Austin, "Fine, fuck you, Berrington, and your missing girl. It's a girl, right? Another beautiful babe in trouble! The only fucking person that gets rewarded is Austin. Hell, I don't get to fuck the girl, only shot up, beat up, or worse almost killed. I'll never become a father. I'll never have a son for my wife Jane."

"Tom, it's okay. We understand." Frank stood, desiring to act like a compassion physician for his baby brother.

He back stepped away from Frank. "No, we don't. We aren't the fucking FBI agents, Miami-Dade police officers, or a gawd damn federal ass law judge. I'm sick and tired of finding assholes. That's not my job at this company. I'm the head attorney. I want to do attorney things." Tom exhaled with deep frustration of the past two days.

"You handle all the legal cases, all the time. We need your legal knowledge to fight the assholes and save the princesses." Austin smiled as he quoted back some on Tom's silly words from the very first medical mysterious murder case as a quartet of red, white and blue crime fighters for good and justice, instead of hard working billionaires.

Tom shouted with a sneer. "No more, now, are you deaf within your eardrums? I'm not lending, donating, or offering my legal mind to assholes or princesses. Is that clear, man?"

"Tom, you're part of the Quartet. The Quartet has ruled by a democratic vote since our great grandfather's time. We operate as a team of fourths with equal power and varied skills." Austin quoted the famous Quartet motto with a smooth baritone timber.

Tom said with a snarl and jabbed a finger at Austin. "Fuck that, Berrington. I know the speech. I wrote some of the parts. I'm not going to be a part of this case. That's my final answer, hell, naw."

"Tom, you're forcing our hand." Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

Tom turned and frowned at Stu. "What the fuck does that mean, Gage?"

"Using last names, bailing out of cases, vulgar comments, impolite manners," Stu nodded with a smile to Tom.

Frank turned and winked at Stu, "Tom has never attained a set of polite southern Florida manners like me and you, bro."

Tom turned and a jabbed a finger at each brother with a sneer. "Fuck you, Mangrove! I have had it with you, you and you."

Frank parted his lips with mysterious. "What the fuck does that mean, Tom?"

"Read my mind, asshole." Tom cocked a skull sideways, without smiling.

"Tom, are you saying to us that you are quitting the Quartet?" Frank laughed.

Tom gasped and then nodded with a grin, shaking a skull and his briefcase, "Fucking yeah, I quit. I also quit this fucking-ass company. You deal with all the legal shit that I handle for this firm. Let's see how profitable and successfully you are then," laughing.

"Tom, think about what you are saying and more importantly what you are doing?" Austin sat inside his throne chair, dropping an open mouth to Tom.

Tom lifted and waved a free hand and arm with a laugh. "Why the hell for? Gawd, I'm rich. I'm a billionaire. I can do whatever the fuck I want, fucking anytime I want, and fucking how I want, without you, three fucking asswipes' lecturing, teasing, and commanding me. There, I said it. I'm finished here. Done. Finnis. Finished." He pivoted around with a stern face and tapped ahead in a pair of old and worn leathers, moving down the long hallway toward the private elevator of the Quartet, driving back home to Coral Beach.

Austin quietly sat inside the throne chair in silence, seeing down the hallway. Tom had exited the throne archway, moving down the hallway to the private elevator in silence.

Gage slowly stood from the chair, shaking a balding skull with a worried brow, looking at an empty archway.

Frank sat inside the chair, bowing a red skull in silence prayer.

End of the hallway

9:42 a.m.

Tom moved ahead and stopped, slamming the button on the wall, whispering for his eardrums only. "Fuck them, I'll start my own business. I'll become a trillionaire. The world needs lawyers. The world needs me. The world loves me." He smiled with pride for the firm non-brotherly decision.

Gawd damn-like Austin commanded, instructed, and did fucking nothing at Quartet Associates.

Stu was the engineer that fixed anything.

Frank was physician and fixed humans.

Tom was the attorney and fixed everything else.

And an asswipe Austin did jack shit, sitting a lazy ass inside a private throne chair, fuckingly dictating orders like an evil cloned Adolph Hitler.

The carriage door opened.

He entered and then swung around, standing with excitement and a smile, feeling happy. He sat down on top of the long sofa inside the elevator carriage with a nod. "Fuck them!" Tom whispered for his eardrums only, since he was going off solo and doing his own thing.

The doors closed shut. The elevators smoothed dropped down to the ground floor.

Jane was a brilliant lawyer and needed something to do also, since she had lost the baby. Jane needed to occupy her active and intelligent mind. So Tom would recruit her to join his new law firm.

Tom needed an office, no, a building. Hell, he would buy a new building with his earned billions of monies.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the vanilla-colored concrete.

Tom moved ahead with a smile and stood, opening the car door. He tossed the briefcase into the passenger seat with a grin, sliding inside, feeling the soft leather over an ass and banged both palms on the steering column with a grin. He cranked the warm engine and gunned the horsepower with his great news and a laugh. "I'm a free man." He backed out the car, slowly moving through the parking garage. He cleared the security gate on the Quartet Towers, pressing the gas pedal, speeding back home to Coral Beach to see his wife Jane.
Tuesday July 20th

10:01 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (seven miles west of Coral Beach)

Ground floor Coral Gables Reality office setting

Warm temperatures and windy with no sunshine

Inside the unfamiliar office suit, Tom and Jane posed in a set of separate chairs in front of an unfamiliar office desk.

The smiling middle age sun-tanned lady said. "Mr. Sawyer, you want to buy the entire building for your new law firm?"

Tom reached over and patted the hand of Jane with a smile and a nod, "Yeah, the entire building, not just the floor, you can do that, right?" He sat on the edge of the chair, anxiously bouncing a pair of new leathers over the new carpet. He was venturing out solo, without his brothers into a new law firm.

"I can sell you the whole structure, including the six-level parking deck, the flower gardens, and a sparkling waterfall," the female realtor slightly giggled with a smile and a nod, sliding across the empty desk a stack of business papers to Tom. She needed his name signature and the calendar date for the paperwork.

"Is that a problem for your realtor company?" Tom leaned over and grabbed the stack of papers, gently handing all the legal work papers to Jane to view first, since she was the fifty-fifty law partner within his new law firm. Jane accepted the papers, leaning over the desk, reading the terms and agreements of each page in silence.

"Normally, I negotiate rates with larger companies, such as, an insurance company, a big bank, or a computer business," the female realtor smiled with a nod to Tom.

"Not billionaires?" Tom laughed with a grin.

She smiled with a nod to Tom. "Billionaires don't usually flock to Miami often, preferring to invest monies into banks in New York, while living off the massive interest income." Jane continued to read through the heavy pile of legal documents with a stern face and her legal trained eyeballs.

"Lazy assholes, afraid to take a chance," Tom laughed.

"You don't seem to be that type of billionaire, not afraid of chance," the female realtor winked at Tom. Jane looked up with a snarl to see the ambitious woman.

"No, hell!" Tom reached and patted on the kneecap of Jane with a smile and a nod to the realtor as Jane presented a goofy smile but greatly worried about Tom's new business decisions. "Are the legal docs good, Jane, sweetheart?" he turned with a smile to see the red hair roots on Jane. She exhaled with a puff of worry, nodding in silence with the legal information, straightening the messed up legal documents into a nice stack with a fake smile at the realtor.

The female realtor pointed a puke green colored manicured fingernails at the neat stack of legal documents with a smile and a nod to Tom. "Please sign here, here, and there to complete the paperwork for the final building sale."

Tom giggled with a grin, reaching and pulling an ink toward his face, "Ready to move in too?"

"Yes, sir, this Coral Gables building passed all its inspections, last week. We need a bank account check for 64,738,923.76 US million dollars," the female realtor batted a set of black mascara coated eyelashes at Tom.

"The amount is 64,738,923.76 US million dollars," Tom repeated with a nod and scribbled down the math numbers onto one of his personal business accounts with a grin. He was purchasing a building right around the city block from Quartet Assholes that nickname fit so perfectly, since he wasn't part of the asshole lot anymore.

"Tom, sweetheart, that's quite a large amount of cash for a simple four-story building." Jane watched and worried about his irrational behavior, reaching and patted his kneecap with a fake smile.

Tom tore off the paper check from the checkbook and handed with a grin and a giggle to the realtor, turning with a wink to see Jane. "Just the start, Jane, sweetheart, we will build our empire small at first and then we move in another year or so to a bigger building with fifteen or more floors." He leaned over and kissed her face, pulling back with a smile and a giggle.

"As you wish, Tom, sweetheart," Jane nodded with a fake smile, greatly worrying about this deal, this building, and this Tom. He came home from the Quartet business office angry, mad, and determined to seek revenge with Austin, not guns or blood, but revenge, in terms of business competition.

Tom also wanted to up and move away from Coral Beach, giving his four-story mansion to Stu but the calm and smooth sweet breathing Jane loved Tom. Tom loved her too, since Tom was only upset and mad then he would eventually calm down and see this as a wrong move. Then Sawyer would return back into the Quartet, because Frank, Stu, and even earth god-like Austin would take him back in a single heartbeat.

She had sweet talked Tom into not moving, since they were part of Quartet family, not the Quartet business. Tom still retained one-fourth of the assets within the Quartet business but did not receive a monthly paycheck for his legal work.

However, Jane had money and Tom had money too. They had plenty of money to live on for the rest of their natural-born lives at Coral Beach. Tom did not have to work but greatly desired to practice in private law and greatly desired Jane as his legal partner, so Jane obliged with a fake smile and a loving hug.

However, Tom was not returning the numerous and continuing telephone calls from his brothers and had even purchased a new mobile telephone. And Tom had commanded that the house butler Gilbert refuse all personal vocal or written or electronic invitations from Frank, Stu, and Austin.

Jane puffed with her tormenting thoughts, talking with Misty and Gracie, since they all blamed Austin, because Tom was correct that Austin kept involving the Quartet in another non-family affair.

One month ago, the Quartet fought and found deadly crimes using Tom's lawyering skills with the nicknamed criminal "angel of death."

One week ago, the Quartet had become involved in a second murderess case where the criminal was dubbed "the goddess" by Stu.

Present week, tragedy struck the Sawyer family. The fetus had aborted. Jace softly explained that embryo might have been damaged, so naturally the biological body of Jane aborted the destroyed tissues, a miscarriage. And then Tom quit the business company as he ventured outside the protective wolf den without clients, employees, legal work, and prospects.

Jane prayed something would pop up soonest, since Tom quickly bored without using his legal attentive mind for law work.

"The transaction is completed. Congratulations, Mr. Sawyer! You are the new owner of the Miracle Mile Tower," the female realtor stood, dangling a set of golden bracelets for a hand shake with a pair of silver door keys in the other hand.

"Thanks! Time to drum up business to pay for my new asset," Tom stood and shook the extended right hand, snatching and jiggled the set of metal keys to a four-story building in a left hand. He released the hand of the realtor and grabbed hand of Jane with a smile and a nod. "Bye!"

They turned and moved to the open archway.

"Good day!" Jane hailed as they exited the business office, moving through the building.

Tom slapped the door, holding it open for his wife with a smile. "Another beautiful moment of my new life with my one and only beautiful charming and intelligent wife by my side, we'll make a great team, Sawyer and Sawyer. Hey, what do ya think as that for our company name, sweetheart?"

The door closed.

Tom moved and stood beside Jan, grabbing and hugged her into his side with a grin and a giggle, leaning over and kissing her cheekbone and pulled back with a smile. They slowly strolled and grinned goofy at each other's face.

"Sounds lovely," Jane smiled with great fear and worry for Tom's irrational behavior.

"Not lovely, sweetheart, Frank says that damn crap. Fierce and firm, yeah, Sawyer and Sawyer. Sawyer Squared, naw. Sawyers Incorporated. Yes, Sawyer and Sawyer, Incorporated. After our son's grown, we'll add another Sawyer name to our law firm. Yeah, high plans and high dreams for us. My own law firm with my wife and our future unborn son together, always and forever, Jane, sweetheart." He skipped over the sidewalk toward the sports car, holding the hand of Jane.

Jane exhaled and inhaled, day dreaming that their son played with the sons of Gage, Berrington, and Mangrove, the future Quartet babies. She mentally switched gears inside her active mind, thinking about the building, the office, the firm, and the separation of family, leaning into his face with a stern face. "It looks like rain, sweetheart. You look tired. Let's go back home to Coral Beach."

Tom nudged her tightly into his chest, kissing her neck. Jane giggled. He whispered into her eardrum. "Let's go fuck in my new presidential office." She giggled again.

6:06 p.m.

City of Coral Gables (five miles west of Coral Beach)

Office Coral Gables Towers

Fourth floor and suite number one setting

Hot temperatures with sunshine

"Furniture in place, phones hooked up, computers installed." He clapped with a smile. "Great, I do believe I have a working environment." Tom jabbed a finger at each object, grabbing and held the hand of Jane, turning and moved through each office room that was set up complete for a batch of new employees plus a patch of new clients. He stopped and stood inside his extra-large and private business office with a row of four undivided glass windows that overlooked the flower gardens and a waterfall. "I need employees."

"You need clients, first." Jane turned and moved, outstretching her hand, pulling them into the furniture piece on the wall with a stern face. They sat together on the purple colored fabric love seat between a row of tree green plants and two built-in bookcases that were filled with a new set of law books.

Tom turned with a smile and patted the hand of his smart wife, "That, too, any suggestions?"

"Tom, what law are you going to practice?" Jane turned with a stern face to face Tom.

"Don't know. Does it really matter?" Tom rubbed her finger pads with his two warm hands.

"It matters to me. And the general public needs to know who you can represent before any clients show up for services." Jane faked a smile into his happy face.

"I have gobs of legal work experience. Let's see wills, estates, real estates, bankruptcy, international law, commerce. And let's not forget criminal law." He smiled. "Yeah, maybe, I should be a criminal lawyer. I liked the intensity and drama. I won all my cold-blooded murder cases." He nodded with a giggle.

Jane shook her red curls. "I didn't. I rather you review wills and estates. Criminal cases are very dangerous, sweetheart."

Tom lifted and waved a hand with a frown. "Wills and estates, boring stuff, I can do that on the side, while I defend the very dangerous criminals. I carry a weapon. Don't worry, I'll always protect you, Jane, sweetheart." He leaned over and kissed her.

They pulled back with a set of goofy loving smiles.

"I know that, sweetheart. I'll protect you as well with my heart, my soul, and my lady Ghost." She smiled. "But real criminals don't really need defending, Tom."

"Some of them might not be criminals, just mislabeled like Katt." Tom smiled.

"All right, you can be a criminal lawyer." Jane pretended to entertain her husband with a nod and a fake smile. She truly hoped that Tom would get bored and leave the building, the business, and then return back into the safety and care of the Quartet. "There are lots of criminals in Miami, but they're not caught."

Tom chuckled. "I can't catch them, just protect them."

"I know."

He parted his lips. "Who do you know, sweetheart? Is there someone that needs my legal advice, my legal experience, and my legal know-how?"

"How about dinner?" Jane smiled with a nod. "It's dinnertime, sweetheart. I'm hungry around the street corner is a nice seafood diner."

"Well, I need to..."

"Please, a small amount of time with your lovely, devoted, and lonely wife." Jane pouted with sweetness at her husband.

Tom smiled with a nod. "Our course, wife, anything for you," Tom stood and turned, assisting Jane to stand and hugged her with love and protection.

They turned toward the closed door, leaving his office and his building for dinner.
Wednesday July 21st

Sawyer and Sawyer Law Firm (3 north blocks from Quartet Associates)

5:51 p.m.

Reception lobby setting

Hot temperatures with partly cloudy

Tom freely roamed around an empty room and stopped, standing inside a pretty gold and white colored reception lobby on the fourth floor with a whisper and a sour frown. "No clients! What else can I do?" He turned and stared at the empty reception desk. "Hire a Receptionist." He held a new dark gray leather briefcase in one hand with a chuckle and a nod, leaving the home, going home to Jane, since she understood, tolerated, and patiently supported his new decision and their new life. However, he was not selling the Coral Beach mansion.

Girls were such a softy for Tom.

Tom could not deny his Quartet sisters their female unwanted attention while ignoring his once-ago non-biological brothers. Tom loved his Quartet sisters, never having a female sibling, only a set of rough and tough males as his childhood playmates in Coral Gables.

He would kill any asshole or assholette, female version that tried to harm or hurt a precious Gracie, Misty, or Jane.

So, Tom had agreed with his loving Quartet sisters for him and Jane to stay and live at Coral Beach as long as those asswipe brothers did not coming around his manor.

The exterior door to the lobby sounded with a knock.

Tom turned with a gasp and raced tot eh front door, unlocking the key latch due to the crime wave and the lack of personnel inside an empty building, an empty office, and an empty legal case load.

The door opened.

He smiled with a nod, "Welcome, come in."

"Sawyer," a baritone timber rumbled throughout the quiet room. Tom could not believe his cornflower blue eyes. The male was South Miami District Attorney Keith Newman. Newman had flubbed the murderess case of Kattleen Kattrell with his ex-legal attorney and the newly jailed inmate Seth Hamilton who resided inside the Tallahassee Correctional Institute.

Keith had been reprimanded and demoted for a slick cover-up poisoning of a baby kitten, trying to convict murderess Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell. Katt didn't do the crime but possessed some weird-ass kind of a natural biological ability, healing all type of human body parts like the dead kitten.

Tom had witnessed the amazed, frightened, and enthralled feat while trying to forget that murderess trial day foreverly. He smiled with a nod. "What's up, Newman?"

"Heard about your exodus?" Keith shoved Tom to the side and quickly entered through the open archway, scanning the nice and new office surroundings.

Tom turned and smiled at the back spine on Keith, "Decided to part way the sea, staring my own company. Nice to be boss finally," giggling

Keith laughed, "So, Berrington really did yank your dog collar. I always wondered if he was boss or just a bad ass."

Tom cringed at the mention of the proper name, recalling that Sawyer was still born as one-fourth part of the blood pact brotherhood. His mom and his dad seriously remained Tom's neurons yesterday and the day before yesterday on the private telephone call from West Palm Beach, Florida. The blood pact was set up to protect and defend Tom and his non-biological brothers and all his biological and non-biological family members, always and forever.

Austin was the boss of a billion-dollar company, which had been created and formed from a batch of homemade scratch cookies by Austin and his brothers. That would and will always be Austin's only position in the Quartet like Austin's biological father and biological grandfather, before him.

"He didn't get nicknamed for nothing." Tom cleared a tight throat. "What brings you around, Newman?"

"Wanted to check your new office space. Any cases, yet?" Keith strutted to the lobby chair and turned, planting an ass into the nicely padded cushion, sitting with a smile and stared at Tom.

"Not yet, searching," Tom meekly answered, standing inside the archway, wondering how to get Newman out of the building.

"I might have a case. Are you interested in working for me?" Keith bounced up and down on top of the nice new comfy chair, standing on a pair of worn leathers and turned, pacing around the desk to a blue and red striped sofa, planting an ass on top of the cushion, staring with a smile at Tom.

Tom followed Newman around the room with a fake smile. "I can work with you. Who is it?"

"Actually, it's a what?" Keith chuckled, "Close to chow time. Grab food and drinks, Sawyer. I'll pay, since you don't have clients, yet." He nodded with a smile.

Tom smiled with excitement, "Excellent idea! But first, I need to call my wife and tell her that I'm running late for the evening."

"The puppy chained, also." Keith stood with a laugh, staring at Tom.

Tom ignored the ill-bred man, since Keith was divorced twice, probably couldn't keep a chained bull pit. Tom both loved and respected his wife Jane. He would never keep Jane guessing about his body whereabouts or his dealings, especially with a shadowy and deceptive Keith Newman. He whipped out the mobile telephoned and swished the icon, turning with a smile to see far wall of peach. "Jane, sweetheart, I have my first case, maybe."

Pause.

"I'll be late coming home, sweetheart." Tom listened to his loving wife.

Pause.

"Who!? Remember, Keith Newman? He and I are talking about the details over dinner tonight. I'll fill you in later, sweetheart."

Pause.

"Wait up for me, sweetheart. I'll be home, soonest. I love you, Jane." Tom smiled.

Pause.

"Good bye, Jane, sweetheart," Tom pocketed the mobile telephone inside the new gray colored business jacket, turning with a smile to see Keith.

Keith frowned. "This data is confidential, Sawyer. You can't tell the world, much least you wife."

"Jane is my partner in the firm, the building, and all legal work. She's chief operating officer of my company. I tell her everything." Tom nodded.

"Hmm, I can't employ her and you." Keith crossed his arms over a dull and wrinkled dress shirt.

Tom tossed a hand into the air, shaking a skull for the misunderstanding. "Don't worry? Jane is my employee. I'm the boss. I'll pay her for all the extra work that I require on this case, research, court fees, etc. and etc."

Keith nodded with a grin. "Okay, that's a deal. I'm not allowed to compensate her directly. But since she's your employee I guess she can hear about the case."

Tom clapped with a smile and a nod. "Great, let's get started."

Antonio Restaurant (three blocks from Tom's new building)

6:41 pm.

Dinner booth of Keith and Tom

Hot temperatures and partly sunny

Inside a private booth within a dark corner, Keith ordered a platter of seafood appetizers and two beers and talked about the new legal case as Tom drank. Keith ordered two salad plates and a bottle of white wine, talking about the case as Tom ate and drank. Keith orders two medium-well done steaks and a bottle of red wine, talking about the case as Tom ate and drink. Keith ordered two dessert plates and a bottle of dessert wine, talking about the legal case as Tom ate and drank.

Keith finished the key lime pie with Tom. Tom ordered a hot cup of coffee, pouring tons of white sweet milk and pounds of white sugar into the black liquid, nosily sipping the smooth yellow beverage into his lips.

Keith sipped on the sweet dessert wine and smiled to Tom. "Well, what do you think, Sawyer?"

Tom gently placed the coffee on the table surface with a smile and a nod, "An old lady siccing a wild gator on a gang of illegal hunters in the middle of the Everglades. How in the hell did the police find her?"

Keith chuckled, "Funny story, one of the gators ate her big purse which happened to contain her driver's license which was expired, of course. But, the police investigation found her and her live gator along with a string of dead smelly human body parts. When she was interrogated at the local police station, she confessed by hand signals and short words, ordering the wild mammals to kill the men."

"How do you order a gator to do anything?" Tom shook his bangs, lifting and sipped the cup of coffee.

"You don't. She penned them around her house, keeping the animals out of harm's way to her, of course. When a hunter passed by, then she opened the steel gates. The starving beasties attacked without cause, eating a man, almost whole." Keith laughed.

Tom gagged on the coffee. "Fuck, not on a full stomach, Newman." He rudely burped and then sniggered at the funny storytelling.

Keith laughed and cleared a tight throat, asking. "Your answer, Sawyer?"

Tom laughed with Newman desiring not this weird-ass murder case. But this was his first official legal case offer while needing media attention for his new law firm and the future law business. The murder case was a little challenging, if not a silly incident. Tom smiled with a nod. "I accept. What do I need to do?"

"Nothing! Come by the office tomorrow, I'll get you to sign the consulting contract and give your papers to start the investigation." Keith grinned.

Tom grinned with a giggle, clapping, "Hot damn, my first case..."

"You sound like a greenback, Sawyer." Keith laughed.

"Just excited, this is the first time..." he paused, "I'm out on my own, without the guys." Tom acted cool as Keith frowned. Tom nodded with a stern a face. "It's okay. I don't associate with the guys. I mean they're my family members. I see them at family functions, not in the working place, not on legal cases and stuff." He sounded very doubtfully.

"Ya don't have access to the Quartet Headquarters building around the corner?" Keith turned with a confused brow to see the tall Quartet building from the diner on the busy city street.

Tom smiled with a nod. "Hell, man, I own a fourth of that damn building. I've elected not to intrude upon their private affairs. Ya know business is business."

"Good, family or not, this is a federal case with federal ties and federal..."

Tom frowned, "Know that. I'm a lawyer."

"As long as, we're clear on the logistics, Sawyer."

Tom smiled with a nod, "Clear. Ready to start! I'm full. Dinner was fine and dandy. Thank you, Keith! I'm going to pee first. Finish my coffee then scoot. I'll be right back." He slowly stood and stretched out his limbs, turning and moved toward the MEN'S BATHROOM.

Keith reached and pulled out a thin strip of white paper from a breast pocket, slowing unwrapping and slipped the white sleeping powdery aid into the yellow colored cup of warm coffee that belonged to Sawyer. He tossed the crinkled wrapper into the potato shell with a grin and a whisper. "Sawyer won't feel a thing."

Tom returned and stood next to the booth table, reaching and grabbed the cup of coffee with a smile and a nod, "Check?" He lifted and drained the last drops from coffee cup.

Keith shook a skull side with a smile at the nose profile on Tom, "Got it! Go home to your lovely wife."

Tom gently dropped the coffee cup down to the table surface and burped out loud with his rude non-South Florida manners and extended a hand, sealing the verbal business deal, acting like a South Florida gentleman as he was taught by his mom with a smile and a nod, "Sure thing! See ya tomorrow, Keith. Thanks for my first case, man. Chow!" He turned and moved from the booth table with a grin and a giggle to the closed entrance door.

Keith held his hand that touched Sawyer for the last time in the air with a fake smile. "You are welcome," he turned and watched with a set of narrowed eyelids through the diner window as Tom exited the diner, moving to his personal sport car. Keith whispered with a sour frown. "Not."

Sports car ride on Tom

10:42 p.m.

City of Coral Gables (one mile southwest of Coral Beach)

Intersection traffic light at Maynard Road and Sunset Drive

First quartet moon with clear skies and bright stars

Tom slowly slid into the leather seat, igniting the cold engine and warmed the car. He rudely yawned with a whisper, "Long day, don't remember working so hard in my entire life. Private practice is time consuming fucking work." He glanced at car clock with a worried brow. "Shit, 10:42 pm. My queen whore's missing me."

Tom reached and discarded the mobile telephone from the jacket, since Jane would be really pissed off on telephone, if he had called. So he would surprise her, dashing up the steps, fucking her brains out. "She'll be happy then I'll be happier." Tom stomped the gas pedal, moving into the traffic, stopping at the first traffic light.

The car behind Tom sounded the horn with a set of loud honk, honk.

"Green for go." Tom whispered with a set of shut eyelids from a tired mind, "Too tired." He turned the steering column to the left, driving the car onto the city street LeJeune Road toward his home inside Coral Beach.

He still desired to buy and move to another new mansion but Jane had her heart on living there inside Coral Beach. Jane didn't want to leave Misty or Gracie as Tom wondered if Frank would move with him to another section of Miami. Probably not, but Stu might, so Tom would call and ask him tomorrow morning from his new presidential office at the new Sawyer and Sawyer Law Firm.

Tom stomped the brake pedal hard at the intersection traffic light at US Highway One and LeJeune Road, closing his eyelids. He was tired from the darkness of the night, after eating so much good food. Hell, the wine, he had polished off three bottles down a thirsty throat.

The car behind Tom sounded the horn with a set of loud honk, honk.

"Green for go." Tom whispered and opened his eyelids, gunning the gas pedal to fifty miles-per-hour, traveling down an empty and dark road toward his home in Coral Beach. He felt so sleepy and tired, jerking the car from the sandy medium, quickly reprimanding his careless driving action. "Eyes on the road, Tommy boy." He viewed a green colored traffic at the intersection of LeJeune Road and Sunset Drive, deciding to run the street traffic light, muttering for his eardrums only, "Almost home!" Tom gunned the gasoline pedal to eighty miles-per-hours with ease, exhaling and inhaled for more oxygen into a tired mind and whispered for his eardrums, only. "Almost there!"

A set of nosy sounds echoed throughout the air waves of screech, honk, boom, and pop.

Tom opened his eyelids, seeing a plume of white smoke that rolled off the heated engine of his sports car. Then a yellow light hit the right iris on Tom's eyeball as he reached and touched the door handle with a left index finger. The driver's side window dropped down, flooding the heated cockpit with fresh oxygen inside Tom's sports car.

"Hey, sir?" A baritone timber said into the left cheekbone on Tom.

Tom blinked his eyelids open and shut within the dizziness of his neurons with an angry tone and a sour frown. "What asshole?"

"Open the door, sir," a baritone timber said into the left cheekbone on Tom again. Then a warm hand touched the left cheekbone on Tom as the same hand moved from the cheekbone and reached inside, jerking the door handle open. Tom was safety belted inside the driver's seat with the lifesaving lesson as he was taught by Stu. A baritone voices breathed onto the left cheekbone on Tom, "Are you hurt, sir?" The Coral Gables police officer knelt down onto the pavement, reaching inside and poked finger pads between the driver's seat and the floor mats for any type of illegal contraband from the uninjured driver.

"No, asswipe," Tom closed his eyelids, feeling so sleepy and tired from so much good food at the restaurant.

The police officer stood and turned with a stern face to see the commander. "He's inside the seat belt, Sergeant."

The Coral Gables sergeant leaned down into the left cheekbone on Tom with a stern face and a serious tone, "Sir, are you hurt?"

Tom exhaled with a yell and a sour frown, "Quit yelling, dipshit! I'm not deaf. I'm fine." He was very sleepy and tired, desiring to see Jane. Jane would be worried and wondered about his absence, since his kidnapping during the angel of death case, one month ago. Jane greatly worried about Tom's healthy and safety, all the time.

"Sir, please reframe from using vulgarity." The sergeant said with a stern face into the left cheekbone on Tom as Sawyer continued to sit inside the driver's seat of his damaged sports car with his eyelids closed.

"Listen, asswipe, get your hands off of me." Tom sneers and jerked both his hands into the air, trying to un-belt the safety belt.

Then a pair of two arms surrounded and touched the body on Tom inside the driver's seat. "He's unharmed, sir," the officer confirmed.

"Can we move him out of the vehicle?" The sergeant frowned, watching the show.

"You're going to have to assist him. He appears to be intoxicated, Sergeant," the officer knelt down into the pavement, tickling his hands around a giggling Tom. Then, the two rough hands forcefully jerked Tom from the driver's seat into an upright pose over the hard pavement of the road.

Tom sneered in the face of the stranger, standing and swaying side to side. "Watch it, asshole new suit."

"Sir, please walk this line," the officer leaned over and said into the right cheekbone on Tom.

Tom wobbled and swayed to the right and to the left with an angry face and a matching tone. "What fucking line?" He blinked his eyelids open and shut, without focusing on the road, the man, and the trees in the darkness of Coral Gables.

"Sir, the orange line between your car and the police car," the officer pointed at a bright vertical orange neon line that had been drawn across the street pavement.

Tom mouth spat and sneered in angry, "Why the fuck for?"

"Sir, I'm a police officer. I'm administering a sobriety test," the officer said into the right eardrum on Tom, holding onto the left arm of Sawyer also.

Tom wobbled to the right and to the left with a grin and a giggle. "Looky, I had a few glasses of wine. I'm not drunk. I'm tired. I'm sleepy. I'm pissed. Who's your superior?" He sneered with a yell, swaying side to side.

"Sir, I will ask you, again, very politely. Please walk the orange line from your car to the police vehicle," the officer points at orange line with a commanding friendly tone.

Tom sneered in angry, "Don't do dog and pony shows. Don't you know me, asswipe?"

"Yes, sir, I recognize your face," the officer nodded with a stern face.

"Well then, asshole, we're fine. Let me go home and sleep. Gawd, I'm fucking tired." Tom yawned while ignoring the police officer and the city law rules.

"Sir, you're refusing a sobriety test, harassing emergency personnel, and generally unpleasant in demeanor," the officer said with a stern face into the right eardrum on Tom

"So what, asswipe, I'm always like this. I'm sick of you harassing me. I want your fucking badge number, now." Tom slurred the words with a nasty tenor.

"Sir, I'm arresting you for causing a car accident," the officer said with a stern face into the right eardrum on Tom, holding the left arm of Sawyer also."

Tom yelled with a set of blurred neurons and eyeballs. "Car accident, what fucking car? I see my car."

"Sir, you caused a car accident when you ran the traffic light on Sunset Boulevard," the officer turned and pointed at another destroyed car.

"Hell, I stopped at that damn light." Tom turned with a confused brow, following the finger, seeing the other damaged car.

"No, sir, your automobile is in the middle of the road. You also hit another car," the officer said with a stern face into Tom's face as Tom wobbled to the right and to the left in a pair of new leathers.

"Fucking shit, I did." Tom yelled.

"Yes, sir, under these circumstances, I'm hauling you to jail. You can call your lawyer in lock up," the officer said with a stern face to Tom, turning and dragged the left forearm of Sawyer toward the police car.

"I'm the fucking lawyer," Tom yelled with angry, stumbling over the pavement to the police car.

The officer pulled Tom toward the police car. "As you say so, sir, please place this gentleman into the patrol car."

"Hell, no, I'm going home to my wife. Where's Jane? I need my wife. She's expecting me." Tom stopped and stomped both his leathers with his new demand in fury.

"Sir, please try to be cooperative. Please move your body toward the police car," the officer turned and shoved Tom into the police car with a sour frown.

"Get off me!" Tom shoved and fell backward from the police officer and stopped, lifting and swung a right fighting folded fist at a standing police officer, missing the fixed target with a forward punch and landed his face down into the soft golden sandy road side.

"Sir, please try to be more cooperative," the officer exhaled with a sour frown, leaning down and hand cuffed the two wrists of Sawyer. Tom struggled side to side inside the sand and the grass with a weak intoxicated clinical condition without standing. The officer grabbed and then man-lifted the body on Tom, turning and pushing Sawyer toward the police car.

"You know, who this is?" A second police officer stood beside with a sour frown, whispering into the left cheekbone of the sergeant.

"Sawyer, Thomas Edison, the third, a billionaire and a local drunk," The sergeant frowned. Tom tumbled to the left and stumbled to the right toward the police car.

"Damn, Berrington and boys are going to be pissed. Should we contact Stu to warn him?" the second Officer frowned, whispering into the left cheekbone of the sergeant.

"We're doing our jobs. He caused a car wreck and is being uncooperative," the sergeant turned with a worried brow to see the exposed body. "That woman doesn't look too good."

"Emergency personnel are taking her to Charity South Miami Hospital in a few minutes," the second officer looked down, jolting notes on the laptop with a sour frown.

"Let the boys in downtown Gables call Gage. I don't want a scene in the road, especially with television reporters," the sergeant moved and stood next to the open door of the police car.

Tom moved with assistance from the police officer and stopped, wobbling side to side in front of the police car, slurring his words with fury. "Fuck this, I'm reporting you to the police commissioner. I know him personally He's my friend."

"That's your right, sir. In the meantime, you're being placed into the squad car for transportation into the jail cell at Coral Gables," the sergeant said into the left eardrum on Tom, turning with a stern face to see the first officer. "Place him inside the VIP section of the jail with an extra set of heavy prison guards. And charge the bill to Stu."

The officer nodded, pushing the head on Tom down into the rear side of the police car.

Tom bent down and slid over an empty back seat, lying on his stomach, closing a pair of tired eyelids and a sleepy head and passed out.

Coral Gables Police Station (eight miles northwest of Coral Beach)

11:31 p.m.

Observation room setting

Warm temperatures with clear night of bright stars

The pale yellow tinted building displayed like a garden magazine with a set of gorgeous colorful flowering pink, orange, and purple impatiens around a leaping water foundation in front of the double glass entrance way for inviting both guests and family members into the rooms.

The twin wooden cherry benches curved around both front doors at the Coral Gables Police Station, where a continuous flow of police officers entered and then exited the building. Each police officer displayed an utility belt which was filled with a pistol, a baton, a taser, and a pair of hand cuffs. The color requirement for all houses, buildings, and structures in the city of Coral Gables must be a "certain" pastel pretty color. No black, navy, or brown dark ugly colors were allowed here since the year 1926 among the green swamps, the biting brown alligators, and the thriving orange trees.

"Frank!" Janey turned with a set of wet hot tears and a set of heavy sobs, standing in place, staring at Mangrove.

Stu and Austin approached Jane from the police sentry guard post as Frank stopped, standing and hugged Janey for love, protection, comfort, and support.

"Fuck, what has Thomas done now?" Stu leaned over and whispered into the right eardrum on Austin, scanning the police station with both eyeballs and neurons.

"...created a shit load of trouble for the Quartet," Austin whispered back, staring at an upset Janey, feeling his own set of mixed unhappy personal emotions.

The police captain of Coral Gable police precinct entered into the room and stopped, standing behind Gage, extending a hand and pointed to a side door of a tiny conference inside the observation room. He, Stu, Gracie, Frank, Janey, Misty, and Austin turned and scooted, sitting around a square wooden table.

The Coral Gables police officer sat in front of the table, nodding to each Quartet member and their wives, tapping on top of the laptop that held the arrest record on Tom, in case, the criminal lawyer on Tom had showed up to question the Coral Gables police legal procedures, reading the official report. He cleared a throat as all eyeballs turned to him. He looked down with a stern face and read from the laptop file for accuracy. "Mr. Sawyer ran a traffic light at the intersection of Sunset Drive and LeJeune Road at 10:57 p.m. He accidentally collided with another vehicle passing underneath the green traffic light. Mr. Sawyer was unharmed. The person in the other car was uninjured, as well."

"Thank Almighty God for small miracles." Frank soft moaned, hugging Janey as she sobbed into his dress shirt at the collar bone.

The officer read from the laptop with a stern face. "Mr. Sawyer refused a sobriety test at the scene of the automobile accident. He cursed and punched a police officer, missed, and fell onto the sandy ground. Mr. Sawyer has refused all cooperation with the Coral Gables police officers at the accident scene. Therefore, Mr. Sawyer was arrested, detained, and imprisoned on all these criminal charges stated here in the police report. He is currently under VIP treatment, because of his social status in the city of Coral Gables."

"Thank you, officer." Stu turned and nodded with a stern face with his compliments the placing on Tom into VIP security as a silly but harmless billionaire.

The officer looked up with a stern face to see each face. "When you see Mr. Sawyer, you might be appalled with his appearance from the car accident."

"Officer, we'd never question the good people of the Coral Gables police department regarding Tom's condition or treatment. When can we see him for interviewing?" Austin turned with a nod and a stern face to acknowledge.

The officer shifted into an uncomfortably position with a stern face to Austin, "Dr. Berrington, he's unconscious, at the moment."

Frank stood with Janey, turning and shuffling her toward Stu. Stu stood and cuddled Janey. Frank turned and pushed an angry six feet body to the office, stopped and said with authority command. "I'm his personal physician. I demand to exam Tom for any type of internal medical injuries."

The officer stood with a stern face and a nod to Frank. "As you wish, Dr. Mangrove, please follow me. But I can only allow Dr. Mangrove, not anyone else from this conference room," he pivots to the open archway.

"His wife!?" Frank thumbed back over a collar bone to Janey.

The police captain turned with a stern face to see Mrs. Sawyer, "Under the extreme circumstances of Mr. Sawyer's mental and physical condition, I cannot allow Mrs. Sawyer into the jail room for her own protection. I hope you understand, Mrs. Sawyer." Janey burst into a set of new wet hot tears, sobbing with heavy sighs into the collar bone of Stu. Gracie and Misty stood from the table, turning and surrounded Stu, holding the hands and the shoulders of Janey. He turned and moved ahead of Frank with a stern face, "Dr. Mangrove, this way, please." The captain, the officer, and Frank left the conference room to see Tom.

The door closed.

"Gracie, please take Janey home. She can stay with us for the night. Tom's not going anywhere. We need to arrange bail for tomorrow." Stu turned with a worried brow and whispered into the left cheekbone of Gracie, tenderly patting on Janey's shoulders. Then he pushed her into the open arms of Gracie. The Quartet wives were a wonderful comfort for each other in times of brotherly trouble.

However, Stu wanted them to leave the police station and drive back home for safety and companionship. He and Austin would deal with all the arrest details regarding Tom's trouble with the police and the car accident which would be thoroughly investigated by the Quartet. Stu back stepped from Gracie and Janey into the wall corner and whipped out his mobile telephone, swishing the icons, placing the necessary telephone calls to Quartet guards and QA experts. He whispered into the mobile telephone his new orders.

Gracie clapped with a smile for attention, "All right! Janey, girlfriend, come home with me. We can cry together all night long. Okay!"

"I want to come too." Misty stood from the table and wiped off a set of wet hot tears from her face to see Gracie.

"A good ole girl crying party for all of us. Let's go Janey!" Gracie took command of the delicate situation, wrapping both her arms around Janey.

Austin stood from the table and moved, stopping and stood behind Gracie, giving each Quartet sister a hug. He leaned down, whispering into the right eardrum on Janey. "Everything'll be okay." He turned with a stern face to Gracie, commanding like the boss of the Quartet. "Ladies, take Frank's limo back to Coral Beach. We'll take him home inside my limo much later tonight. Frank's with Tom, so we'll do everything to make Tom's temporary stay pleasant. Don't worry! Please take care of Janey for Tom."

Stu moved from the corner wall, standing beside his wife. "Gracie babe, try and get some rest. Everything'll be better, tomorrow. I promise." He faked a nice grin of the serious situation, leaning over and kissed her lips. They emerged and smiled at each other, "I love you, babe."

"Ditto, Big Man." Gracie whispered back into his left eardrum, turning to the door. The door opened. She led all the wives back home to Coral Beach as Austin and Stu turned and watched the women exit the conference room.

The door closed.

"Fuck him. What's wrong with Thomas?" Stu growled at the closed door, feeling fury, angry, and worry.

"Damn it to hell, I don't get it. Tom quits the Quartet. He quits his company. He quits his job. Now, he's arrested and jailed in one of Miami-Dade's finest holding pen." Austin shook a black colored skull, greatly desiring to punch something.

"Fuck, fuck and fuck." Stu turned with a worried brow, pacing around the table, looking at the wall paint.

"Frank will assess Tom's overall medical condition." Austin said with a positive attitude as the boss of the Quartet.

Stu stops pacing and spun around with a sour puss face to see Austin. "Can he? Is Frank a psychiatrist also?"

"You think that Tom is crazy, Stu." Austin frowned.

"Crazy, loco, out of control, name it, Austin? Tom is a loose cannon which is ready to explode into cold and dark outer space." Stu frowned with worry and fear.

"He's under stress and pressure from the two murder cases and the loss of his unborn child. We get him home. He'll be okay. He needs his family...his brothers. That's all." Austin nodded.

"If you say so," Stu frowned with doubt.

"I say so, Stu." Austin frowned.

The door opened.

Frank entered the conference room, mumbling a set of secret words into his personal cell phone, strolling around Austin and Stu, ignoring the side verbal comments from his brothers and moved back toward the door without any explanation.

Stu followed with a confused brow the body of Frank. "Tom!?"

"Not here, let's leave," Frank dropped the mobile telephone, pocketing the devise and rushed the words, heading to the open door and turned, leading his other brothers back toward the sentry gate.

"Leave, we can't leave Tom. He's our brother." Stu dashed behind the ass of Frank, waving both a bald skull and his arms, bad breathing into the red colored rear skull of Mangrove.

Austin dashed from the conference room, shoving both hands into the back spine on Stu and back stepped, pulling up beside Frank, turning and stared with a confused brow at the nose profile on Mangrove.

Stu exhaled and back stepped, dropping both his hands, pulling up beside Mangrove, leaning into the nose profile on Frank with a sneer.

"We can. We will. He's in prison. We can't do anything for him. Tom's asleep. The precinct captain told me that his bail is set at eleven million dollars." Frank whispered into the faces of his brothers, marching steady with his brother through the sentry guard post with a stern face and moved down an empty and quiet hallway.

Stu leaned over with a sneer into the nose profile on Frank, "Fuck you!"

Austin leaned forward and over the chest of Mangrove, gently slapping the chest of Big Man, ceasing a dog fight in the middle of the police station with a stern command, "Stu!" He stood upright, marching with Frank down an empty and quiet hallway.
Thursday July 22nd

City of Coral Gables

Coral Gables Police Station

12:01 a.m.

Warm temperatures with clear night of bright stars

Limousine ride of Austin, Frank, and Stu

The bail hearing has been set for tomorrow morning," Frank moved ahead down an empty hallway, slapping the glass door with one hand, leading into the warm night air and the beautiful moonlight of the Miami. He headed toward the parking lot, where one limousine was waiting for the rest of the Quartet. He said with a stern face, looking at the shiny and clean limousine. "The precinct captain is a very chatty guy. He enjoys telling me everything that he knows and hears. Bragging. Boasting. Bellowing. He's got a billionaire inside his private jail cell. We can't do a gawd damn thing about it, unless we execute a fucking rescue attempt."

Stu nodded with a whisper, reaching for his mobile telephone. "I'll call the boys."

Austin whispered with a stern face, "Stu!" He marched forward and stared ahead at the shiny and clean limousine, too.

Stu moved ahead and turned, blocking Frank with his tallness, yelling into the stern face of Mangrove, "Frank, what the hell!?"

"Inside," Frank scooted around Stu, pointing at the limousine, ordering with authority.

"Home, Joe." Austin dashed over and whispered into a sour puss Joe, sliding inside the rear bench as the electronic limo door shut the brothers into the vehicle.

Frank slid into the middle rear bench with Stu beside him. Austin scooted into the opposite bench, staring at Frank. "Preliminary court hearing is set already." Frank looked down with a stern face to see his mobile telephone, since he had been communicating with the real physician Jace for updates of the delicate solution to the delicate issue on Tom.

Stu turned and gasped to Austin, "That's too soon. Isn't he supposed to get a lawyer, rights, bail, or something?"

Austin nodded with a stern face. "You're very correct and very legal, Stu. Tom's entitled to see a lawyer before the hearing. What do you believe is happening, Frank?"

"Tom's not intoxicated. He's drugged. His reactions, presentation, and stimulus indicate a toxin inside his biological body." Frank turned with a stern face to see each brother.

Stu gasped. "Drugged, who the fuck?"

Austin frowned with worry. "Is he going to die, Frank?"

Frank shook a skull. "No, he is going to be fine. However, our baby brother is charged with second degree murder."

Stu gasped, "Murder, how? Why? Who?"

Frank shook a skull, "I can't answer those questions, Stu. But be assured, someone is setting Tom to fall hard. We're talking about life time prison or maybe the Florida death penalty. The girl died from the automobile accident that Tom instigated."

Stu sneered, "Fucking shitting hell."

"Damn it to hell!" Austin sneered.

Frank nodded with a stern face. "Jace has been contacted and has initiated a full blown autopsy on the car victim. Jace will conduct it, personally, overseeing the Charity Coral Gables Hospital medical staff. If there's something inside that's girl bio system that caused her to die, Jace'll find it. He's mad as a hornet, also."

"Well, damn straight." Stu exhaled.

"What's our next move in this deadly game, Frank?" Austin said.

"The district attorney is going to press charges of second degree manslaughter, attempted murder with a vehicle, in addition to the minor crimes of drunk driving, assault, harassment, property damages, and other little shitty misdemeanors." Frank said.

"The police captain knew a lot of data." Stu sneered.

Frank nodded. "Someone acted very fast."

"Too fast, damn it to hell, they're tossing the book at Tom." Austin analyzes.

"The entire twenty-six hard copy volumes of encyclopedias plus all the appendixes," Stu frowned with worry.

"Fuck, he needs the best criminal lawyer in the US." Frank realizes.

"Which happens to be him?" Austin frowned. Austin did not approve with Tom's legal ethics but observed that Tom was the smartest attorney in world as far as business legal sense and the Quartet.

Stu chuckled, "Okay, then he needs the second best criminal lawyer in the United States. Too bad, Hamilton's incarcerated in the Florida State pen."

Austin sneered. "Forget that asswipe, he cheated, lied, murdered..."

"Enough, pups! Tom needs a physician, not a lawyer." Frank exhaled.

"What are you proposing, Frank?" Austin said.

"If tried, he will be found guilty." Frank exhaled.

"Maybe," Austin frowned.

"No, listen to me. The word is guilty. So our only defend is the insanity plea." Frank nodded.

Stu gasped, "Fucking shitting hell, Tom, he'll be hospitalized inside a mental institution for the rest of his life, Dr. Mangrove, since you're a physician, not a lawyer. What do you think, Austin?"

"Only until, we three figure out who is setting his ass up for murder." Frank smirked with his evil ways.

Stu chuckled with a nod, "Right, good thinking, Franklin."

Austin nodded with a grin, "Great thinking, doctor! We find the shit ass, beat the crap of him for a verbal confession, and then present him to the federal judge for sentencing. Tom's freed."

"Sound's easy," Stu chuckled.

"Easy as pie," Frank grinned.

Austin nodded. "Tomorrow is the bail hearing. Call the bank..."

"Do not pay bail." Frank shook a skull with a stern face.

"Frank, you were making progress. Now, you digress." Austin frowned.

"Listen to me! The composer of this frame up is waiting and watching. He or she might just kill Tom out right, not waiting on his fair and impartial trial. Tom has pissed someone off, royally." Frank nodded with a stern face.

"That list is very long." Austin nodded with a stern face, remembering the bloody past history of a younger and stupid quartet of brothers.

"No shit." Stu exhaled with a nod.

"What do we do?" Austin said.

"Tom sits in jail until this preliminary hearing date. We pull personal guard duty for escort and protection for him. No ladies will be present, either. Jane cannot attend the bail hearing, tomorrow." Frank shook a skull.

Stu exhaled. "But..."

Frank shook a skull with a sneer, "Hell, no, her life is in danger, as well as, Tom's."

Stu exhaled. "She is..."

Frank mouth spat in fury. "No."

"You heard, boss man." Austin chuckled with some needed comedic relief as his limousine slowed and stopped at Austin's house first.

Frank turned with a stern face to see each brother, "Tomorrow, nine am, bail hearing. See everyone there and no weapons, Stuart."

Stu sneered. "Hey!"

Frank sneered back to Gage. "No weapons. I don't need a black or a white ass in jail too."

"Got it, boss man," Stu chuckled with a nod.

"Later, Austin," Frank exhaled.

"Tomorrow, brothers," Austin said with a nod and a stern face, sliding an ass out of the electronic limo door in front of his manor.

9:01 a.m.

City of Miami (ten miles north of Coral Beach)

Miami-Dade Courthouse

Bail hearing setting

Hot temperatures with partly sunny

The Quartet entered and scooted around the court galley, sitting in the appropriate seats.

Austin moved and sat alone inside the defendant's table with a stern face.

Stu and Frank moved and sat inside the first row behind the chair of Austin inside the court galley.

The prosecution table held four different lawyers that turned and smirked at the nose profile on Austin, looking at both Stu and Frank too.

The side door opened.

The court gallery stood in silence.

"Good morning," Judge Sherman Cutter entered his court room and landed a set of black robes into the chair, saying with a nod and a smile to the court gallery. "Please sit."

Cutter had acquired a semi-personal relationship with the Quartet brothers in the Kattrell murderess case, two months ago. The non-biological brothers were young, smart, honest, respectful, and caring, not only about family but for strangers as well. Currently, one of the brothers Thomas had been arrested for drunk driving, causing a two-car accident. And then the victim had died.

The Coral Gables district attorney office had accused the defendant of second degree manslaughter.

Cutter had worked with a sober and stubborn Tom as the first chair on numerous federal and state of Florida legal law cases. The criminal charges seemed a little overexposed and overrated for an automobile accident, where a tragedy had occupied of a single occupant inside the other car. The woman was an eighty-two-year-old senior citizen, driving alone on a busy Miami city street at eleven in the night.

Cutter was not a gambling man and attended church every Sunday morning, praying for his family, his grandchildren, and all the good citizens of Miami. However, this seemed like a ploy, a set up, and a frame up against Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

And the other three brothers, billionaires, and entrepreneurs of a billion-dollar Quartet Associates business company were not sitting an ass still for this legal injustice, since they were all visually present inside the court room of Judge Cutter without a set of lovely wives. So Austin had already figured out Tom's the pigeon.

The Quartet Assholes were not taking any chances with the lives of their wives either.

Cutter nosily cleared a throat, staring with a stern face at Austin. "I have reviewed the case of Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. I post bail at five million dollars for his release and his custody to his attorney Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth."

Austin stood with a nod and a stern brow to see Cutter. "Your Honor, thank you! At this time, as Tom's defense lawyer, I retain the right to speak for my client. Tom will remain jailed until his court hearing date announcement."

Cutter smirked at Austin, announcing a very good plan the denial of bail. The Quartet must suspect that Tom's life is in danger, while Cutter concurred. Since, he had practiced criminal law for twenty years before his appointment-ship as a US Federal Judge for USA. He too recognized deceit and allure, so this court hearing would be an interesting legal case.

Cutter could not wait to see the outcome with no more shootings. He hoped but had planned appropriately, this time. He had stored a personal and licensed hand gun underneath the judge's chair, in case of another emergency.

The Coral Beach brothers were always entertaining, if not dangerous.
Friday July 23rd

8:51 a.m.

City of Miami (ten miles north of Coral Beach)

Miami-Dade Courthouse

Courtroom setting

Hot temperatures with partly sunny

Tom was escorted without a set of wrist and ankle steel binders, wearing a dirty and filthy white dress shirt, missing the neon colored bow tie, displaying a pair of wrinkled and stained dark gray trousers.

His suit jacket was unbuttoned without a leather belt, a golden tinted watch, and a wedding ring from Wednesday night's dinner meeting with Keith Newman. His eyeballs were red and bloodshot. His mouth was swollen and red. His nose holes held dried stained red blood from the accidentally body fall down and over the hard sand, the gray pavement, and the soft grass. He had tried unsuccessfully to slap the arresting police officer at the vehicle accident scene at Sunset Boulevard in Coral Gables.

Tom strutted in regal authority without smiling, stopping and stood at the defense table, huffing with a set of balling fists in fury, "You denied my fucking bail?"

Austin reached and touched the collar bone on Tom with a stern face, "Tom, calm down! Don't make a scene here."

Tom back stepped from Austin as the hand fell from his collar bone, sneering in fury. "Fuck you, asshole, I didn't ask for your help, Austin. I can take care of myself. Where's my wife? Where's Jane? She'll help me. Jane's a brilliant fucking lawyer."

Austin nodded with a stern face "I know that too, but I'm here to help you, Tom. All of us are. Janey..."

Tom turned and scanned an empty court galley for his wife. "Fuck that! Where's my wife? Jane can defend me. I didn't trust you, asshole."

Frank stood and turned, moving through the swing door, stopping and stood beside the nose profile on Tom. He reached up and touched the collar bone on Tom with a worried brow. "Janey's upset with your irrational and psychotic behavior, Tom. Leave her alone! Act nice! We'll get you out of here in two minutes flat."

There was more going on here than met the eyeballs, since Tom was the tool of deception. Someone was trying to convict him of an illegal act which could result in a death sentence for his little baby brother. However, Quartet Associates was right now looking and would eventually find out and neutralize this particular stupid individual, very quickly.

But Tom had to be cooperative and damn nice for a change, before he blew the silly legal case into a full scale indictment of second-degree murder of an old woman that had been driving by herself on a lonely city street in the middle of the night in Miami.

Stu stood and moved from the court gallery, stopping and stood on the other side on Tom with a stern face also.

Tom did not see Jane inside the court gallery and understood the reason from Frank, huffing in fury "Fine, Jane doesn't need to be here and see me like this. I agree. I'm taking over my legal case." He looked down and touched, rattling the papers over the table surface with a sour frown. "Where's the indictment? Drunk driving or something shitty like that." He tried to read the words upside with a pair of blood-shot eyeballs.

Austin reached and grabbed a pair of wandering pale hands with a stern face. "Tom, can't you be nice for ten seconds?"

Tom flung back both his hands with a sour frown and a yell, "No, I'm the fucking attorney, here. I'm going to defend myself and get the hell out of here. So be gone! Now, out, leave!" He lifted and waved both arms in the arm above his blonde colored hair roots, stumbling backward from the defense table. The row of prosecution lawyers swung around with a smile and stared at Tom.

"Shit, you always were a true asshole like Sawyer, Junior." Stu scooted closer with a stern face and huddled into the left eardrum on Tom, trying to contain the silly behavior of his baby brother.

"Fuck you, Gage." Tom back stepped with a sneer and a yell.

"Here we go again. Ungrateful. Disrespectful," Stu moved with Tom and frowned with a whisper.

Austin turned with a stern face and a hand wave to see the court officer, since the bailiff was closely watching prisoner Tom and the Quartet per the verbal order of Cutter. "Bailiff." The bailiff quietly moved from the side door to Austin. Berrington tore and handed a folded piece of paper from the paper note of Frank with a stern face "Bailiff, please take this note to Judge Cutter, immediately. And please wait for a verbal or written response. Thank you!" The bailiff nodded, turning and dashed to the side door, exiting the court gallery.

The door closed.

Tom swung with a sour frown to see the back spine on the bailiff and then Austin with a sneering yell. "What the fuck are you doing, Austin? What's that note for? Tell me, now?

"Calm down, Thomas! I don't want to hurt you, bro." Stu moved closer, almost hugging the body of Sawyer, attempting to subdue the visual violent motions on Tom's arms and hands.

"Get off me, asshole," Tom back stepped from Stu, waving his bangs and his arms side to side in fury.

The door opened.

The bailiff returned immediately without a paper and with pair of court house prison guards in tow to the defense table and stopped, standing and pointed to Sawyer with a stern face. "Take Mr. Sawyer back to his jail cell during the arraignment. Mr. Berrington will visit him later after the hearing is finished." The lead court house prison guard stepped forward, grabbing both the flinging arms on Tom, twisted Sawyer around and clipped on a set of hand cuffs over the two wrists on Tom with a quick precise movement.

Tom gasped with shock, "Holy fucking shit, what the fuck is going on here? What the fuck have you done, Berrington? I'll get your ass for..."

"Sir," the lead court house prison guard interrupted the cursing on Tom with a stern face, leaning down into the blonde hair roots on Tom, "Judge Cutter has advised that you be placed back into your jail cell for the arraignment hearing. All is well, sir. Please, come with me." He shoved the neck muscles on Tom down toward the floor, so Sawyer could not talk or hit another individual.

Stu back stepped from the courthouse guards and Sawyer, leaning over with a whisper into the nose profile on Austin and watched as Tom was escorted to the far door and exited the court gallery, "Fast thinking, Austin."

Austin exhaled and watched Tom too. "I'm prepared like a nature scout. I know Tom."

Frank back stepped from the guards and Tom, leaning over with a smile into the nose profile on Austin. "We all know Tom."

"Shitting attitude and super inflated ego, Thomas thinks the world revolves around him and his court room." Stu frowned at the back spine on Tom.

The side door opened and closed as Tom was escorted back into his jail cell for a second time.

"Back to business at hand, saving his skinny ass," Austin exhaled.

"We'll work on saving his soul later." Frank turned around and slapped the collar bone of Austin, shuffling back into his chair inside the court gallery.

Stu back stepped from Austin and the defense table, turning and followed Frank into his assigned chair on the first row behind the defense table too.

Austin did not smile and moved, scooting an ass into the first chair at the defense Table.

The bailiff moved and stood in front of the bench with a yell inside the court gallery. "All rise for His Honor, Judge Sherman Cutter."

The door opened.

The court gallery stood in silence.

Cutter entered from the side door and sat inside the bench with a stern face and a nod to the court gallery, "Please sit. This is the arraignment hearing for Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. Will the Coral Gables district attorney state the nature of the criminal complaint for the defendant?"

The Coral Gables district attorney first chair slowly rose on a pair of new designer heels with a smirk to see Cutter, "Your Honor, the defendant is not present."

Cutter turned with a smirk to see the familiar female of the district attorney pool. "The defendant is listening on the telephone. It's called modern communications. Proceed, Coral Gables district attorney."

"Yes, Your Honor," The district attorney cleared a throat for drama. "The Coral Gables district attorney charges Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third with second-degree manslaughter of vehicular homicide in the death of eighty-two-year-old Mrs. Velma Quinn on July twenty first which is Wednesday night at 10:57 p.m. With the court's permission, the district attorney requests the judge to motion today a probable cause hearing immediately which will be followed by an evidentiary hearing to assess the offense that includes the mitigating factors, the defendant's character, and set the preliminary trial date on Monday, July twenty sixth."

"Show me," Cutter said with a stern face to the district attorney as she lifted a stack of legal papers and handed to the bailiff. The bailiff accepted the stack of papers and turned, moving to the bench and stopped, standing and handing the stack of papers to the Cutter with a stern face.

Austin said with a stern face to Cutter. "My copy on Tom's indictment only mentions intoxication from alcohol, assault, and harassment charges, not a second-degree manslaughter charge. Tom needs the full complaint before he can plead."

The female district attorney turned with a smirk to see the nose profile on Austin. "You didn't believe me?"

Austin smirked and faced Cutter. "I don't want to believe that the United States Justice Department is after my baby brother."

Stu leaned over with a worried brow and a whisper to Frank. "Our little bro was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Frank leaned a face and a torso over the wooden railing into the back spine on Austin, whispering into the eardrum on Berrington. "What are they doing?"

"Pissing me off," Austin said loudly enough for all four Coral Gables district attorneys to hear as

Stu laughed.

Frank moaned into the eardrum on Austin. "Shall I call Richardson in here? He's outside."

Austin said with a stern face to the bench. "Don't you piss me off, too, Frank!"

Frank groaned and slammed his back spine back into the hard chair, crossing his arms with a sour frown as Stu laughed for a second time.

"Really, all that, today." Cutter finished reading all the legal papers, looking up with a stern face to see the four district attorneys.

"Yes, Your Honor," the first chair district attorney slowly stood and turned with a smirk and a nod to see the nose profile on Austin.

Cutter said. "Sit down, counselor. The US federal rules of criminal procedures clearly state that an arraignment shall consist of an open reading of the indictment to the defendant and calling on him or her to plead thereto. In addition to the charges and the plead, you want to present to this court today evidence of probable cause which warrants information sufficient to charge Mr. Sawyer for the committed crime of second degree murder."

She sat and turned with a smirk to see the nose profile on Austin. "Yes, Your Honor."

"I find this hearing procedure highly unorthodox but present your evidence, counselor, to me. I'm dying to know." Cutter turned and grinned to Austin. "Does the defense counselor have any objections to the evidence from the Coral Gable district attorney's office?"

"No, Your Honor," Austin said with a poker face to Cutter.

The QA physician Jace had worked forty hours straight without sleep and with the autopsy samples of the old dead woman, thoroughly questioning the staff members of the city morgue and the clinical procedures. Jace had received all the answers with hard medical evidence for Tom's fast paced murder case. Thus, the pussy Coral Gable district attorneys did not get it.

Money made people talk. More money made people talk for really long hours.

Cutter nodded to Austin and turned with a nod to the district attorney. "Good, go for it!" He leaned back into the padded chair with smile.

She slowly stood and cleared a throat for drama, rattling the papers in the air. "Based on the police reports, the eyewitness accounts, and the black box inside the foreign sport car, Mr. Sawyer was cruising passed the speed limit at seventy-seven miles-per-hour on the public Coral Gables city street of Maynard Road. Then he drove through the intersection traffic light at the cross roads of Sunset Drive inside the city Coral Gables, where he collided with the victim's car. Mr. Sawyer's intoxication level had read a one point zero three blood content of alcohol inside his biological system. With permission of the court, the Coral Gables district attorney office seeks probable cause and reason to believe that the car accident caused the death of Mrs. Quinn. This probable cause and reason shows both criminal suspicion and criminal intent. The Coral Gables district attorney office requests to secure a criminal conviction of second-degree manslaughter of vehicular homicide of Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third."

"Is that it?" Cutter smirked for the recording cameras inside his court room.

"It, Your Honor?" She parted her lips.

"All your evidence," Cutter said.

"Yes, Your Honor," she turned with a smirk to see the nose profile on Austin.

Cutter tapped on the legal paper with a stern face, "Any more data, additional reports, eyewitness accounts or mechanic devices?"

"No, Your Honor," she continued to smile at the nose profile on Austin.

Cutter turned and nodded to Austin. "Dr. Berrington, I believe under these circumstances you have an opinion about your client's plead, the evidentiary hearing, the manslaughter charge, and the trial date."

Austin stood and cleared a throat for drama too. "Yes, Your Honor, I request a motion of dismissal of all charges against my client Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. I have filed a criminal lawsuit of bribery charges against the South Miami District Attorney Office and upon one of the lawyers employed, who is named Keith Newman. Mr. Newman has committed acts consisting of a frame up, battery, and second degree attempted murder."

She slapped her palms over the table and stood, twisting a body with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Austin. "What the hell is...?"

Cutter turned and smiled at the district attorney, "First contempt charge, Ms. Robbie! Please continue to piss me off. I enjoy assigning more charges and longer jail times, since my cells are empty at the moment."

Ms. Robbie softly said to Cutter, "I apologize to the court, Your Honor. I will re-phrase." She turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile on Austin. "What has happened in this legal case?"

Cutter turned and smiled at Austin. "It appears to me that Dr. Berrington has new evidence to present for this impromptu evidentiary hearing by the office of the district attorney of Coral Gables. I have been presented with the basis of the prosecution's case. The defendant table is afforded the full right of cross-examination and the right to be represented by his legal counsel. Let me say! After hearing the new evidence from the defendant's lawyer, if I cannot make out a case of probable cause, then I will dismiss all charges against the accused. Is that clear, counselors?" He viewed each lawyer.

"Yes, Your Honor," Austin nodded with a stern face.

"Yes, Your Honor," she turned and stared at Cutter.

"Continue, Dr. Berrington," Cutter turned with a nod and a stern face at Austin.

Austin lifted and held a paper folder. "Your Honor, based on swiftly collected eye witness accounts which has been provided inside this legal document that is labeled Exhibit A. Exhibit A states that Keith Newman and Tom Sawyer met for dinner to discuss a new US federal case for the South Miami district attorney's office of a killer alligator and its evil mistress." The bailiff moved forward and accepted the folder of new legal papers, turning and moved to the bench, handing the items to Cutter.

Cutter accepted and scanned the papers while listening to Austin.

A set of soft sniggers invaded the quiet court gallery, since the story was funny but not true.

Keith had made up the fictitious "fake" story at the "real" dinner with Tom on July twenty first, Wednesday night within Coral Gables as they ate and drank, sitting down the street from the newly acquired office building by Tom, the Miracle Mile Towers. Then Keith left the diner after Tom departed first from a shared dinner.

Austin continued with a stern face to Cutter, lifting and held a second paper folder. "The US federal criminal file case is fake, but not the personal bank account of Keith Newman. First, these printed records are shown in Exhibit B. Exhibit B shows numerous financial dealings of the current South Miami district attorney for the past three months, where numerous money deposits of one hundred thousand dollars each month from an unknown, untraceable, and unidentified revenue source." The bailiff moved forward and accepted the folder of new legal papers, turning and moved to the bench, handing the items to Cutter.

Cutter accepted and scanned the papers while listening to Austin.

Austin lifted and held a single piece of paper. "To update His Honor with Exhibit C. Exhibit C states that the Miami-Dade FBI Special Agent Phil Magnum has started a criminal investigation into Mr. Newman. A lawsuit will be forthcoming by the end of the week from the Miami Downtown US District Attorney's Office." The bailiff moved forward and accepted the folder of new legal papers, turning and moved to the bench, handing the items to Cutter.

Cutter accepted and scanned the papers while listening to Austin.

Austin lifted and held up a new paper vanilla colored folder, facing Cutter. "The victim inside the other vehicle had died of a heart attack, not the tragic collision at the wheel of her personal car. She died inside the emergency room of Charity South Miami Hospital at 10:04 p.m. as it had been cleared hand printed inside an official medical record at the hospital which was discovered by Dr. Jace Jackson, Junior, an active physician and a current board member of Charity Healthcare System. An urgent medical investigation is underway to discover how and why the dead body was mismanaged by Charity Healthcare System president Donald Pollard. As stated by the Coral Gables emergency personnel and Coral Gables district attorney's office, the tragic car accident occurred at 10:57 p.m." The bailiff moved forward and accepted the folder of new legal papers, turning and moved to the bench, handing the items to Cutter.

Cutter accepted and scanned the papers while listening to Austin.

Austin continued. "However, her medical record displayed that the elder lady had suffered a second deadly stroke that very night. The first stroke based on her medical write-up occurred at 9:58 p.m. A stroke leaves the body incapacitated to move, talk, or stand much less drive a car in the middle of the night on a lonely road in Coral Gables. She lived in the neighborhood which was located at the cross roads of Sunset Drive and Maynard Street. Mrs. Velma Quinn was placed into her car and then the car was parked at a traffic light at the city street of Sunset Drive. Tom collided into the parked vehicle at 10:55 p.m. Tom did not kill the nice lady, since her physical body had quit functioning while allowing her to pass quietly into heaven, peacefully."

"Allegations, only," the Coral Gables district attorney swiftly stood with a sour frown to Cutter.

Austin stared at Cutter. "I am afraid not. I possess copies of all the medical reports, the autopsies, and the eyewitness accounts of Mrs. Velma Quinn's fragile body along with a certified public accountant verbal and written testimony of the real bank records of Mr. Keith Newman, who is currently employed as a lawyer with the South Miami district attorney office."

"Sawyer was drunk and disorderly," she lifted and waved the police report, turning with a smirk to see the nose profile on Austin.

Austin nodded with a stern face to Cutter. "I cannot dispute the police statement in a court of law, Your Honor. However, I would like to add to the court records here. My brother is under terrible undue stress at his job at Quartet Associates. Tom is swallowing pills of medical prescribed medication and mixing it with alcohol which is not highly recommended by his personal physician or his loving and caring family members."

"See, he's guilty," she nodded with a smile, crossing her arms.

Austin exhaled with a huff of worry, tapping a finger over the smooth tale, looking with a stern face at Cutter. "Therefore, I as Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third's attorney plead not guilty to the stated numerous crimes and request dismissal of the second-degree manslaughter charges. Secondly, I request as his brother that Tom be admitted under the direction of his physician Dr. Franklin Mangrove into a certified rehabilitation center for complete alcohol and substance abuse from stress and trauma, regarding his professional and personal life style, if this pleases the court, Your Honor, Judge Cutter."

"Objection, Your Honor," she sneered.

Cutter turned and frowned to the district attorney, "Overruled. I cannot make probable cause for the defendant Thomas Sawyer. However, you can for the upcoming lawsuits of bribery and attempted murder by the former district attorney Keith Newman that occurred within the Coral Gables city limits." She nodded in silence as Cutter continued with a smile to both lawyers. "All charges are dropped on Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. I will place him as requested under the direction of his personal physician Dr. Franklin Mangrove immediately into an alcohol and substance abuse program. Mr. Sawyer will be transferred to Charity South Miami Hospital inside a certified rehabilitation ward this morning under police escort. I dismiss this case, close this file, and exit my courtroom. Thank you." Cutter slowly stood and swung around, swishing a set of black robes down the steps and exited the court gallery.

The side door opened and closed.

The Coral Gables row of district attorney nosily stood and turned, leaving the court gallery, mumbling with curses at the Quartet and exited through the open door.

The door closed.

"It is done." Frank stood from the chair, bowing a chin into his chest, feeling the pain inside a heart.

"Shit, done!" Stu stood from the chair beside Frank, shaking a bald skull, wanting to scream and shout into the clouds, feeling pain and grief for his baby bro Tom.

"When does he get out, Frank?" Austin turned around with a stern face to see Frank, pondering Tom's reaction to the only court decision to save his life from prison or death.

Frank lifted a sad face to see Austin, shaking a skull. "I don't know. Jace will do the actual write up and assessment of his mental state of mind."

Stu lifted a sad face to see Austin, shaking a bald skull. "Tom has really lost his mind."

"He's under stress. Our brother needs help. Our family is the help." Frank exhaled.

"Agreed, we'll get him the best help money can buy." Austin nodded.

"Janey?" Stu turned and frowned to Frank.

Frank nodded with a stern face. "Janey's strong. We discussed this with her last night. She signed the papers, as well as, I."

"But your signature counts more." Stu frowned.

Frank nodded. "Yes, I can only sign him out of the rehab ward as stated in the court records, today. Thomas will stay until our baby brother is healed, transformed or ..."

"Do not say anymore, Frank." Austin exhaled with a worried mind.

"Is Janey coming?" Stu asked.

"She and Gracie are there now. Misty didn't want to come." Frank said with a worried heart.

"I understand. I didn't her want to either." Stu said with a heavy heart.

"We're his brothers. He'll be out in no time. We just need to be strong and brave for him and us." Frank nodded with a brave heart and soul.

"Keep telling me that, Frank, over and over, again." Austin frowned.
Saturday July 24th

City of Coral Beach

2:31 a.m.

Home of Austin bedroom setting

Full moon and clear skies with bright stars

He dreamed on Tom, worrying inside a mental mind and then awoke, turning a sweaty face to see 2:31a.m.

He grunted and rolled a heated body over to the cool side of the satin bed linens, closing his eyelids with no sleepy crumbs.

City of Kendall (six miles southwest of Coral Beach)

Charity Kendall Hospital

7:07 a.m.

Rehabilitation Ward number eighteen

Warm temperatures and rain with seventy-five precipitation

Tom had been toted from the jail cell and placed inside a police car, arriving at the hospital. The hospital ward nurses grabbed and toted Tom into rehabilitation ward number eighteen for other patients with heavy substance and drug abuse issues also.

Austin had stood in front of a window with a mirror every morning, afternoon, and night since the arrest, trial, and sentence on Tom into the rehabilitation alcohol and substance abuse ward. Currently, he watched through the reflective mirror. Tom was eating breakfast with his new ward inmates.

Jace stood beside Austin with a smile, staring through the mirror too. "Tom is doing fine. Stop worrying, Austin," Jace broke the silence between two of the caring friends of Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

Austin said with a stern face. "He seems comfortable, too comfortable. Is he really crazy, Jace?"

Jace shook a brown colored skull, "Not at all, Austin, Tom is lost, confused, and hurt. These folks feel the same way."

"Tom seems that he can really relate to these people inside an enclosed room, Jace." Austin watched through the mirror.

Jace exhaled. "How is the divorce proceeding?"

"Slow and painful," Austin said with a worried brow at the second dilemma, since Janey had filed divorce from a crazy acting husband.

"Janey?" Jace watched. Tom leaned over and elbowed his new ward inmates in the arm, laughing with fun.

"Janey is lost, confused, and mad," Austin watched through the mirror and exhaled with a huff of deep brotherly and sisterly emotions.

"Doesn't she want the house?" Jace chuckled to lighten the dead mood of Austin.

"She doesn't know what she wants. Janey loves Tom. I can tell that." Austin exhaled.

"We all can tell it." Jace watched through the mirror. Tom laughed and mouth spat out his breakfast particles over the table and into someone's plate. The other inmates stared down at the new food particles and ate the meal.

"Janey is very worried about him." Austin watched through the mirror.

"We all are." Jace watched through the mirror too.

Austin exhaled. "When does he get out of..."

"Frank has to sign him out, Austin, since Janey has filed divorce papers."

"I...we are going to the farm for the weekend." Austin exhaled.

"Retreat...," Jace smiled and stared into the mirror.

"Escape." Austin turned with a worried brow to see the nose profile on his good friend Jace. "Will you watch Tom for me?"

Jace turned with a nod and a smile and slapped a hand over the collar bone of Austin. "Don't worry! I'm here every morning, lunch, dinner, and evening snack."

"Thanks, Jace! You're like a 'real' brother to me, him, us." Austin turned with a worried brow to see Tom for the last time.

"Go on! Enjoy the horses. Capiche!" Jace laughed with the nasty reference. Tom had tattled to Jace about a young Austin who had been bucked off a young stallion at the tender age of eight years old. Thus, Austin had never ridden in the saddle, twice.

Austin turned with a sour frown to see Jace. "Very funny, doctor, I'm now worried that they got the wrong guy behind the glass window."
Sunday July 25th

2:31 a.m.

City of Ocala (310 miles northwest of Coral Beach)

Misty Farms

Bedroom setting of Austin

Waning gibbous moon, cold temperatures and fair sky with dull stars

He awoke and recalled the new dream of Misty Marie, rolling to the side, stumbling off the bed mattress. He quickly robed a naked body and moved to the closed door.

The door opened in silence.

He quietly moved on a pair of naked feet around the third level of master bedrooms inside the farm house of the Quartet in the city of Ocala. The house contained the rest of his brothers and sisters as he saw and felt quiet stillness and halted in place.

He concluded that his Quartet sister Misty Marie was fine and dandy as she soundly slept inside her bed with her husband Frank. Since Frank would kill anyone that opened the bedroom suite, because Mangrove slept with his Ghost underneath the satin pillow case also.

He softly chuckled and silently scooted a set of naked toe bones from the hallway and a naked body back into the cool satin bed sheets, resting a sleepy head onto the cool satin pillow, falling fast asleep.

9:12 a.m.

Kitchen setting

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

"Morning, Misty," Austin entered the kitchen with a smile, after a restful night and stopped, standing and gently hugging his Quartet sister, giving her a light peck on the cheekbone of brotherly love and protection.

The other brave brothers and sisters had formed a posse this morning with an individual horse for a quiet trail ride around the farm, the pond, and finally a family picnic to kill off the sunny warm day while leaving Austin and Misty alone inside the family ranch house, since both Austin and Misty did not like horses, horse riding, or horse trails.

"Hi, Austin," Misty accepted his brotherly hug and tender brotherly kiss, lightly pecking his cheekbone with her sisterly love.

Austin pulled back with a smile and released her body, turning and moved to the long table of heated food trays, fixing a plate of hot breakfast. "What are we doing for fun, today, Misty?"

"I'm going to paint my nails, order new clothes on the computer, finish my hair, and wait for Frankie." Misty turned around with a grin and lifted, pouring a small tumbler of orange juice.

Austin smiled at Misty as she was one of many women that created lots of task for themselves. There was always something that needed to be done on a female, including the hair, the face, the fingers, the legs, the hands, the feet, and the entire body. Austin didn't mind and greatly liked and appreciated all females. They smelled nice and looked pretty, all the time, using great care and lots of time. "Sounds like a productive day, Misty. I'm helping myself to breakfast. Have you eaten?" He placed the cold eggs inside the microwave, since the kitchen staff fed the working crew at six in the morning.

"I ate a little something this morning with Frank. I have a little upset stomach ache and don't feel like food." Misty lifted and sipped on the orange juice.

The microwave beeped for the heated scrambled eggs. He opened the door and retrieved the plate, adding a piece of dry toast and turned, moving to the breakfast table inside the kitchen and stopped, standing and pulled out a chair for Misty and his ass too. He waited for her to sit first. "I'm sorry. What does Frank think?"

Misty turned with a grin and a giggle, moving and scooted into the pre-offered chair as Austin scooted it into the edge for her. She placed the tumbler of juice on top of the table, turning to face Austin. "Just because my husband's a doctor, I don't ask him for every medical diagnosis, Austin. A simple tummy ache, I ate too much spicy food last night for dinner."

"Okay, Misty." He scooped up eggs and chewed, not remember eating a plate of hot and spicy food, last night. Austin finished the breakfast meal, readying to leave the farm for a quick trip by sports car into the local town, planning to use a public phone for a private chat with Jace to check on Tom.

Austin did not want Misty overhearing and worrying about the new medical update, since she would get upset and start to cry when Tom's name was mentioned.

Thus, this was the primary reason for a quick and quiet vacation trip to the city of Ocala on Misty Farms.

Austin drank the sweet milk down a dry throat and stood, turning and placing his set of dirty dishes inside the kitchen sink and turned, moving to stand behind Misty with a smile, patting her collar bone. "Misty, I'll be back before lunch. Enjoy your outing with Frank."

"Thanks, Austin. Bye." Misty sat the breakfast table, thumbing through the pictures of clothes on her mobile telephone with a smile.

Austin turned and left the kitchen and the ranch house for town.

Florida room setting

10:13 a.m.

The front door chimed with a soft ding.

Misty moved from the room and dashed to the front door, since the rest of house staff was busy with farm chores around ranch, feeding the livestock barn animals and tending the acres of land property. She was completely bored without Austin around to entertain her and lonely without Frankie's warm loving presence, since no other person ever visited the ranch either.

The door opened.

She greeted with a smile and a giggle to the young people who wore a beige jumpsuit. "Hello."

The tall young adult male smiled and bounced up and down in excitement on a pair of new white colored sneakers, "Hi, we're from the Florida Zoo..."

"Zoo!?" Misty titled a chin as her earlobes dangled with a set of three tiers of blue colored diamonds which had been mined from the foreign country of South Africa. Blue colored diamonds were formed when boron particles became trapped inside a crystal matrix called Type IIb. Less than point ten percent of all graded fancy color diamonds were rare blues, which was referenced inside a gemological grading report as gray-violet or gray-blue.

"Florida Zoo," the tall young adult female with the exact coloring of the young adult male with a head of light blonde colored hair, a pair of almond shaped brown colored eyeballs, and a tone of dark tinted skin with a smile and a nod.

She exhaled with a confused brow, "Which Florida Zoo?" Misty lifted and wiggled her arms as her dangling set numerous blue diamond bracelets rattled in the air waves.

"The one nearby to here," the tall young adult male smiled with a nod.

She frowned. "Do you mean the Ocala Zoo?" Misty shook the blonde curls into the mascara-coated eyelashes, straightening the matching blue diamond necklace around her neck and pressed down the matching blue short skirt with both her hands.

"Yeah, that one," the female nodded with a smile.

"You are a pair of Ocala zookeepers. So what can I do for you this lovely day?" Misty nodded with a smile as all the blue colored diamonds sparkled around her body in the bright sunlight.

"We want to see the cat." The male smiled.

Misty smiled with a nod. "A tabby cat, there might be some a new litter of kittens inside the barn. But I'll have to inquire with..."

"No, the big cat with the big claws," the male lifted and scratched the air with a set of pretend tiger claws with a chuckle.

Misty Marie smiled with a nod. "You would like to see my Florida panther, the big cat with the big sharp claws. Are you from the local newspaper or another national media outlet?" She extended both arms as her three blue diamond rings gleamed in the sunlight with her ten caret wedding bands.

"The Florida panther," the female nodded with a grin, staring at the blue diamonds.

Misty Marie frowned. "Well, I normally don't..."

"Zoo, panther, safety and medical reasons," the male ordered with authority with a stern face.

Misty flung both arms down to her legs as her bracelets sung in a soft ting as she nodded with a stern face. "All right, in that special case, she is located in the rear of the ranch house that is passed the horse trails inside a fenced arena for her protection and away from the other dominated livestock animals. You can follow me inside my personal terrain vehicle. The off road dirt path is about four miles from the ranch house. Is that acceptable for your inspection, sir?" She moved forward with a smile and turned, closing the front door, swinging ground and strolled to the parked vehicle. The vehicle was her personal terrain vehicle that rest underneath the cool veranda of the ranch house with a personalized license car tag that read MISTY1. The vehicle was a gift from her husband Frank every year as they visited the ranch house, so that she could drive into town for some shopping, if need be.

"Yeah, acceptable," the male turned and watched Misty, dashing and bounced into the shoulder of the female with a grin and a chuckle to the pickup truck.

11:01 a.m.

Mountain buff setting

MISTY1, a pink tinted personally terrain vehicle was customized by Frank for his wife Misty to travel around the Farm Ranch also when she was bored out of her blonde skull inside the ranch house. The pink vehicle cautiously scooted around the rouge hilly dirt terrain then slowed, and finally stopped on four wheels at a designated animal pen. Inside the pen, there the animal lounged outside in the warm sun. The animal was once wounded but was now healthy Florida pregnancy wildlife panther.

Misty changed out of the designer high heeled sandals into a pair of designer fashion leather boots, covering up a set of blue-painted toe nails, watching through a pair of designer sunglass the pair of Ocala zookeepers. The zookeepers exited from an older tan colored pickup truck. The truck held a large animal wire cage inside the rear truck bed as they slowly marched toward the naturally forming tan and white rock bed boulders.

Misty scooted out of the vehicle and stood at the open door, motioning with a hand and pointed a manicured index fingernail of blue at the cat cave. "My friend lives there inside the mountain cave. If you're very quiet, she'll come to the edge of the limestone cliff. She can smell when new prey is in the area," giggling.

"Smell new prey?" The female turned with a smile and punched the bicep on the bicep.

Misty softly said, looking for the panther. "Her senses are acute and strong. The cat knows when someone has entered her hunting grounds. She's very curious about her unknown visitors." She bent down on her kneecaps inside the soft green grass. "Stay down. Wait."

The cat moved out the cave and stood on top of the rock ledge. Then the solid black silky shiny cat turned and roamed over the rock with a slender body with a rounded pouch of the two unborn kittens back and forth on a set of long legs, sniffing with a pair of inflamed nostrils all the new odors.

"She's beautiful," the female smiled at the black colored panther.

"Will she attack us?" the male frowned at the roaming panther.

Misty smiled. "She will not. She hunts rabbits and deer in the area for fun and food. She is not dangerous, only curious."

"We'll take her," the male nodded with a smile at the black cat.

Misty Marie turned with a gasp to see the nose profile on the male. "What did you say?"

"Take her, now," the female crouched and leaned over with a whisper and a smile into the eardrum on the male, staring at the roaming black panther.

Misty stood from the grass with a sour frown and turned, moving away from the tan rocks and the pair of zookeepers toward her pink vehicle with a firm voice. "You cannot take my cat. She's my guest and recuperating from her injuries."

"Yes, we want her," the male stood and turned with a nod and a smile, dashing after Misty Marie.

Misty stopped and stood near the warm engine hood, turning with a nod and a stern face. "I will have her for another two weeks then she will be released into the wild again. The panther will live up there in the high hills on my private animal sanctuary, since I'm going to protect my cat for the rest her life. I made that arrangement with the Florida governor."

"Forget the cat! Steal the sweet gems around her neck," the female leaned with a smile and a whisper into the eardrum on the young male, staring at all the blue colored diamonds on the jewelry.

Misty pointed to the older model rusty tan pickup truck with a commanding voice, "You both must leave. I showed you, my cat. She's safe and healthy. You must go. My panther must not be disturbed, any more. Please follow me out the gate."

"No," the female moved toward her twin brother, who was trotting toward Misty.

"Yes. I insist," Misty yelled at the rude and unkind strangers.

"Not without the cat," the male stopped at the nose profile on Misty, folding his arms as his sister stopped and stood beside her brother and faced Misty.

Misty jabbed a finger at the older pickup truck with a sour frown. "You are leaving from here, now." She reached and pulled out the personal mobile telephone from her seat inside the terrain vehicle. "I'm calling my brothers to handle you." She searched for the icon of Stu on the phone.

Stu was an electronics nut that ate and slept with his mobile telephone and his laptop. That silly teen-ass action drove Gracie crazy, so Gage had the mobile telephone with him, riding inside the saddle of his stallion. And Misty's brother could be here within minutes or they would call the closest ranch hand to help her with the minor annoyants.

The female leaned over with a whisper and a sour frown to the eardrum on the male, "We can hunt our own panther, not wounded but healthy."

"Good point," the male pivoted with a nod and a smile to see the rusty old pickup truck without moving.

The female pivoted with a smile and a nod to see the pickup truck too, without moving. "Always right."

"So, you are sister," Her twin brother reached down and grabbed a metal can inside the leg pocket of the jumpsuit, swinging around to see Misty. He lifted and sprayed an invisible aerosol into the hair roots on Misty. Misty looked up and inhaled the sweet odor and sneezed as the spray overwhelmed her natural human senses, causing unconsciousness. Misty stumbled and fell down toward the soft sand as the brother captured her with a smile. "Take her!"

His twin sister frowned. "Why, Tab?"

Tab lifted and carried Misty between his arms, moving to the pickup truck with a smile and a nod. "We don't have enough time to escape from here before someone finds her, Tabby. We can hide her at the royal palace. No one'll find her there. She looks pretty too. I wanna fuck her and the panther."

Tabby giggled with a nod, moving beside her brother who held Misty Marie and stopped, standing at the rear door of the pickup truck, "Me, too." She opened the door with a smile.

Tab leaned inside and placed Misty Marie in the rear seat of old rusty pickup truck, back stepping and slammed the door, turning and climbed inside the driver's seat of the truck. He started the engine, backing the truck away from the rocks and turned around, backing the truck near the rock cliff and lowered the wrench of fresh cut deer meat.

The black colored panther turned and sniffed the air waves, moving down from the rock cliff and followed a fresh scent of blood drippings from the smelly deer meat and entered the wired cage with ease. The cage door shut and locked in place by the twins.

They back stepped and separated, moving into the cab of the truck and sat with a set of laughs and giggles, driving away from Misty Farms with both Misty Marie and the Florida panther.

City of Marathon (113 miles south of Coral Beach)

Sea castle of Hera Helena Hernandez

7:10 p.m.

Waning gibbous moon and partly cloudy with warm temperatures

She stopped in a pair of designer high heels with a sour frown, jabbing a yellow colored manicured finger at the thing. The thing was sleeping on tile floor and chained to the mint green colored wall.

Hera turned and frowned at the pair of mischievous twins, "Where did you get that live and breathing panther?"

The twins were named Tab and Tabby, a pair of leftovers from Ned Nessle's playroom of whores and gays.

Hera had purchased a new sea castle with a set of stolen monies from Ned's basement, owning a new house with the sandy beach, the salty sea, and the twins while Ned had been killed and drowned by the Quartet.

"Panther," Tabby turned and smiled at the sleepy cat.

"The zoo," Tab turned and winked at the nose profile on his sister.

"From the Miami Zoo?" Hera frowned at the beautiful beast.

"The zoo in Ocala," Tab turned and smiled to Hera.

Hera turned and frowned at Tab. "There's a wildlife zoo in the city of Ocala."

"We drove to Ocala for a panther." Tab turned and smiled at Hera.

"The only one in captivity," Tabby turned and giggled to her twin brother.

"Do you know how to care for wildlife panther?" Hera frowned.

"Feed it puppies and kittens, right, twin brother?" Tabby giggled.

"Right, twin sister!" Tab nodded a head of blonde curls at his sister.

"Whatever!" Hera turned with a groan and moved to the dining room table, slamming the briefcase and a stack of paper folders onto the surface and turned, moving to the beverage bar for a glass of refreshing wine, after a terrible day with her highly expensive lawyers and her lowly cheat bankers. She dreamed of eating then fucking and sleeping the night away, until tomorrow. Except, she was scheduled for an appointment with the Charity Healthcare System medical and administrative hospital personnel for more intense and heated personal nosy-ass questions about her original medical procedures for delivering a dead baby.

"Tell her." Tabby leaned over and punched his bicep with a giggle and a grin.

"Tell her." Tab leaned over and punched her bicep with a giggle and a grin.

"Tell me what?" Hera sat inside the chair, removing the shoe and lifted the wine glass.

"The girl," Tab giggled with a nod.

"The girl with the panther," Tabby giggled with a nod.

Hera swallowed the wine with a sour frown, dropping down from the chair and turned, seeing the twins move down the narrow hallway and turned, grabbing the small black colored physician bag in case of an immediate sedation of another playmate at the sea castle. She swung around, strolling behind the twins with a puff of annoyance.

Den room setting

7:14 p.m.

The twins led on a pair of naked feet down an empty hallway, passing the kitchen and the secret laboratory for cooking up all the illegal drugs and stopped in front of a lavender-painted door.

The door opened.

Tabby pointed inside with a giggle at the body.

Hera moved and stood inside the archway with a gasp and a worried brow. A body laid over the long sofa that was covered with a blanket with a set of exposed legs, a pair of two bare feet, spilling out a head of long blonde hair. She entered and stopped, flipping the blanket from the body, seeing a wet white wash cloth over a covered face and a couple of leg wounds with a pair of physician eyeballs. She tenderly probes and touches the leg injuries, commenting from a medical point of view, "Minor red scratches with a small bruise."

The twins enjoyed drinking alcoholic drinks and sniffing the illegal drugs way too much, since Hera worried that they had found a new playmate and then abused the girl to a point of unconsciousness. Hera would treat the patient and then adopt her into the castle family while using shot injections of methane to keep the new playmate in line with the other drug addiction children inside their castle nursery.

"Fresh meat," Tabby jabbed a finger with a giggle at the girl.

"Prime meat," Tab jabbed a finger with a giggle at the girl too.

"She is the temptress who was guarding the cat," Tabby smiled with a nod.

"She guards the cat, what the hell does that mean?" Hera frowned at the unconscious girl, since the twins had too fun with a set of sex games while both stoned and drunk but caused the most trouble inside the castle when completely sober. Hera might start drugging the twins to keep them home and tied down to the bed posts.

"Temptress, who guarded the cat, good one, Tab." Tabby nodded with a smile, staring at the unconscious girl.

"Tempt means to lure, entice, attract, excite." Tab nodded with a smile, staring at the girl too.

"Allure." Tab smiled.

"Bait, trap, decoy, ensnare." Tabby smiled.

"The girl with the panther," Tab smiled.

"She baited us. We lured her into our trap." Tab smiled.

"Ask her name?" Tabby said.

Hera exhaled with a puff of annoyance, reaching and lifted up the wet wash cloth from the face of the victim with a gasp. "Fuck."

"She is the beauty with the cat." Tab smiled.

"Temptress of beauty with the cat," Tabby smiled.

"She allures you with her beauty and grace and diamonds." Tabby reached and fingered each blue diamond gem stones around the neck, the two wrists, and both the earlobes.

"Is she hurt bad?" Tab frowned.

"Just a bruise," Hera stared down at the girl with a smile. "I'm going to examine her. Leave me here. Close the door too."

"Bitch, make her better, I wanna fuck her, first." Tabby back stepped from the archway with a sneer and closed the door of the small den room.

Hera exhaled. "Who is she calling bitch, sick bitch?" She recognized the young gorgeous girl, who was tall, suntanned, long hair, long legs, and big breasts. "The perfect playmate," she giggled. Tabby was correct but it is business before pleasure, since this girl was going to solve all of Hera's professional and personal problems. Hera leaned down and gently shook a warm hand on the sleepy girl, acting as a real physician, inquiring with concern. "Are you hurt, dearest?"

"Sleepy," the young girl yawned, reaching and touched a blackish-blue ugly bruised bump on her forehead. Then she sat up on her elbows, blinking her eyelashes open, seeing the tiny unfamiliar room, "What happened to me? Where I am? Where is my husband?"

"What do you remember last, dearest?" Hera smiled down at the girl.

She blinked with her eyelashes. "I was showing the zoo people my panther on the rocky mountain." Misty turned and sat on top of the sofa with a confused brow, seeing the black and blue bruise on the forearm.

"You fall off that hard rocky mountain. Then you stumbled down into a dirty ditch hole, falling on your pretty face. Do you hurt anywhere, Mrs. Mangrove?" Hera smiled.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Misty looked up with a confused brow to see Hera.

Hera nodded with a smile. "You are in a very special hospital. I am a very special doctor, who will treat the severe body injuries on your body." She extended a warm right hand to Misty. "My name is Hera Helena Hernandez, medical doctor, too."

"Where's Frankie? I want to contact my husband, please." Misty stood on top of the cold floor with a pair of naked feet.

"You can call me, Dr. Hera. Everyone does. Dr. Mangrove is busy right now. There is a Quartet emergency. He dropped you with me for special attention and treatment." Hera smiled with a pair of lying eyeballs.

"Jace?" Misty frowned.

Hera nodded with a pair of lying eyeballs for a second time. "Dr. Jackson has accompanied the Quartet. He attends all the secret security work business with the billionaire brothers, also, correct?" Misty nodded in silent understanding when there was a Quartet emergency, Frank and Jace were with both Austin and Tom, fixing the QA problem.

Hera smiled into the face of Misty. "Please sit down, Mrs. Mangrove. You look a little pale, dearest. I am assigned to care for your health while the Quartet and Dr. Jackson is absent. I work with Dr. Jackson at one of the Charity hospitals too. Do you mind if I take a little blood, only a finger prick, dearest? Quick, hardly any pain at all. Please extend a finger pad for me, dearest." Hera did not want her prize sick or injured just to irritate and infuriate Frank, the loving and caring husband of Misty Marie.

Misty sat down over the long sofa, lifting and extended a finger to her.

Hera looked down and fiddled with a set of small instruments inside the black colored physician's bag for the medical supplies, pulling out a syringe with a needle. She quickly stabbed Misty's finger and pinched the finger meat, pulling out three tiny droplets of red blood into a hollow tube. Hera back stepped with the tube of red blood and turned, moving across the hallway into the laboratory room that was used to cook all kinds of illegal drugs for fun and adventure.

Misty turned and left the den space, moving across the hallway behind Hera with a confused brow, standing inside the archway.

Hera stood in front of a long metal counter with all types of large and small medical equipment pieces and pulled out the needle from the tube and tapped the hollow tube of red blood onto a clear glass slide. She side stepped to a small electronic microscope and scooted the glass slide of blood underneath the lenses in place, locked it into the tray and pressed the tiny keyboard. A series of numbers and letters representing the associated biological enzymes, proteins, and acids appeared upon a tiny computer screen for review. Hera pressed the button and prints off a hard copy report of the lab analysis while re-reading the results out loud to Misty. "An EPF protein is present in your blood sample." She swung around with a smile, moving and stood in front of Misty. "Misty, are you and Frank trying to have child?"

Misty bounced up and down on a pair of naked feet with a smile and a nod, clapping with delight. "Yes, we desire a little baby infant. Why do you ask, Dr. Hera?" She turned and scanned the room with two operating tables, an office desk with an office chair, a table of bigger medical equipment, and a wall of PPE gear for an emergency surgery then see looked down at the upside down report but could not interrupt the information.

Hera tapped on the paper with a smile to Misty. "I have found an early marker that is used to identify an early pregnancy, occurring within forty-eight hours of fertilization. This means that your blood sample surrounds the embryo in vitro. This means that you are pregnant. Congratulations, dearest!"

Misty bounced up and down with happiness, clapping with joy. "Awe, I'm so happy. I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby," she danced side to side with joyful bless.

Hera reached and landed a hand on the collar bone of Misty with a firm tone. "You need to get back into bed, dearest. You need lots of bed rest for the baby, Misty." She shoved Misty through the archway out from the tiny laboratory as Misty swung around and marched back into the den space. Hera said. "We don't want anything to happen to the baby. Do we, dearest?"

Misty shook her blonde curls, crawling on top of the long sofa in silence.

Hera stopped at the sofa and leaned down with a fake smile and sour breath to her newest patient, "Misty, you're in a very delicate condition, requiring bed rest, relaxation, and no stress. That's why Frank sent you to me and my discreet private hospital for complete rest and relaxation from the stress and the pressure of a busy daily routine." Misty nodded in silence. Hera said. "So the baby can grow big and strong."

Misty understood that Frank and his brothers were busy on a special Quartet assignment.

Hera smiled, "Very good, you rest and sleep. I'll check on you later this evening. My cook will bring you lots of nutrient foods and plenty glasses of sweet milk. You need to eat all your food. Do you understand, dearest?"

Misty nodded in silence, covering her body with soft blanket, resting her bruised body from the careless mountain fall at Misty Farms in Ocala, this morning.

Hera smiled, "Wonderful, the developing fetus needs to grow and you, dearest, need to rest. I'll be back a little later in the evening. I must assist the cook with your proper proteins for the growing babe. Have a nice nap, Misty." She back stepped from the den space and turned, closing the door and spun around, strolling into the laboratory and grabbed one of the office chairs, scooting in front of the den space to ensure no entrance or exit of guests and Misty. Hera stood in place, softly clapping and giggling with delight, praising her good luck and good fortune, since she alone possessed Mangrove's wife and his unborn baby.

They both were kept inside the tiny den space for safekeeping and Hera's pleasure.

Hera would collect millions of dollars and avoid jail time when asshole Frank learned about the fate of his immediate family members. She turned, dancing side to side in a pair of naked feet down the hallway with a smile of joy, "I'm the temptress of the kitten today."

10:59 p.m.

Cool temperatures

Thunderstorms with one hundred percent rain precipitation

The door of the den opened.

The petite black haired elderly female stood inside the archway in shock.

Misty turned and stood, extending a hand to greet the female. "Hello."

The elder lady smiled, "Hola, Senitora."

Misty recognized the Spanish dialect, speaking a little of the foreign language, since Frank always translated for her. She smiled. "My name is Misty Marie."

"Si, Marie," the elder lady slapped the black colored polyester cleaning uniform for identification too.

"We have the same name, Marie, si," Misty giggled.

"Si," Marie smiled with a nod.

No other medical personnel had visited Misty this evening, since Hera had left for an emergency at the hospital in the city of Miami. So, Misty has been resting and obeying her new physician's orders for the baby's vital healthy growth. The new lady must be a new nurse covering for Dr. Hera.

Misty used a set of hand movements for a better communication between her and Spanish lady, pointing at the nurse. "Are you my nurse here at the hospital, since Dr. Hera is gone away?" She pointed to Miami.

Marie shook her black curls with a sour frown. "No, nurse. No, hospital. Dr. Hera, si."

Misty pointed at the hallway with a nod and a smile. "You are my nurse at this new hospital?"

Marie shook her black curls with a sour frown. "No, nurse," She showed a mop and a broom, representing her cleaning duties for the den space. "No, hospital. Island, si."

Misty nodded. "You clean my hospital room. Thank you. I'm in hospital, a special hospital brought here for my special treatment." She smiled with her joyful secret that she desired to share with Frankie, when he returned from the emergency QA assignment.

"No, hospital. Island, si." Marie smiles then moves her sneaker towards the closed window and finger points at dark night and rolling sea water.

Misty slowly moves from the bed and joins her, seeing the rolling waves of water and a sandy shoreline, inquiring. "I'm on an island hospital. That's really different. Where's the location of island?"

"Key, si," Marie rolled her hand like waves of sea water.

"I'm in the Key West." Misty frowned. "Dr. Hera works at the Charity Key West Hospital. Well, that means, that I have traveled some distance from Coral Beach."

"Non, hospital. Dr. Hera, si. Island, si," Marie pointed at the solid wall of the enclosed den space that hid the sea water.

"I'm not at the Charity Hospital in the small city of Key West." Misty frowned.

"No, hospital. Dr. Hera, si. Island, si," Marie said.

Misty frowned with a nod. "I want to see my husband. His name is Frank Mangrove, please."

"No, Frank. Dr. Hera, si," Marie said.

"I have to tell my husband about our baby." Misty tenderly patted her abdomen with a smile and a pair of manicured hands.

"Baby, si." Marie smiled with a nod of the happy news.

Misty nodded with a smile. "I'm pregnant. Where's my husband, Frank Mangrove?"

"No, Frank. Baby, si. Dr. Hera, si," Marie smiled.

"I can't leave. The baby might get hurt. Do you understand, Marie?" Misty frowned.

"Si, baby." Marie nodded with a worried brow.

"Could you please take a written paper note for me, Marie?" Misty turned and moved to the wall, stopping and stood at the writing desk. She opened and closed each drawer for a piece of paper and an ink pen, finding a few white lineless sheets and tore the blank paper in half, turning and waving it in air for a visual communication as Marie nodded. Misty turned and leaned down over the surface, writing out the note with the blue ink pen, reading out loud, "To my husband, Frankie, he works for the Quartet in Miami."

"Si, cuatro," Marie understood the word quartet was equal to the number four, lifting and held up four fingers with a smile and a nod to the back spine on Misty.

"Si, cuatro, the Quartet is four people. Please, could you take this little paper note to my husband, Frank for me?" Misty finished writing and turned around, reading out loud the note to Marie. "This is a short note. 'Frankie, love you. Get me. Your, Misty Marie.'" She tenderly folded the half paper in the middle and handed it to Marie with a smile and a nod, "Thank you, Marie."

"Si, gracious," Marie reached down and stored the tiny paper note into the pocket of her uniform, back stepping from the den space and Misty Maria.

Bye, Marie." Misty waved with a smile.

Marie closed the door and returned the office chair in front of the wood with a puzzled brow of worry and turned, grabbing and shuffled the cleaning cart with the mop and the broom to the next dirty room.
Monday July 26th

8:20 a.m.

City of Marathon (113 miles south of Coral Beach)

Sea castle of Hera

Den office setting of Misty Marie

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine and windy

Hera moved down the hallway with her physician's bag and stopped, surveying the door.

The cook had ordered the order to return the chair back in front of the den door. Hera reached and glided the office chair to the side of the door.

The door opened.

She stood with a smirk inside the archway, seeing the back spine on Misty.

Misty stood in front of the book shelf of novels, flipping through the pages and turned around with a smile to see Hera. "Good morning, Dr. Hera!"

She examined with a pair of medical eyeballs, showing a poker face. "You look pale, almost yellow tinted. How do you feel, Misty?"

Misty exhaled with a puff of exhaustion. "Tired, excited, bored..."

"Remember, I advised plenty of rest, water, and food for the growing baby."

Misty nodded with a smile. "I have been resting and eating like you ordered, Dr. Hera."

She smiled. "I need to take a couple more drops of blood." She opened the bag and fiddled around the internal for another syringe and needle for a finger prick, "Just a prick, dearest."

Misty gasped with shock, touching her abdomen. Hera found the syringe, looking up to see the frightful face of Misty, saying with a smile and a pair of lying eyeballs. "The baby's fine. I promise. This is for the new mommy. Extend your hand. Let me prick the finger meat, again." Misty moved forward and extended her left index finger pad, since the right index finger arched from the puncture yesterday for a new blood collection procedure. Hera quickly pricked the other non-index finger and pressed the skin wound, releasing a set of three tiny droplets of red blood and released Misty's finger.

Hera turned around and dashed across the hallway, stopping and stood in front of the long metal counter, running a second blood test underneath the electronic microscope, seeing the results with a pair of naked eyeballs and a worried brow. "The bilirubin count is thirty-six. She has jaundice. The baby's bilirubin levels have elevated. So, time for a suntan." She turned with an evil laugh, moving out the laboratory, down the hallway and stopped, standing at a side closet door.

The door opened.

Hera reached and grabbed a portable sunlight lamp, pulling it out from the storage closet and turned, rolling the matching down to the den space. She entered the room and aligned the equipment head over the sofa with a smirk and a new order. "Misty, I would like for you to lie underneath the sunlamp for fifteen minutes. That's all. And then I will re-test your blood, later today again, dearest."

Misty stared at the sunlamp equipment with a worried brow, patting her abdomen. "Will this procedure hurt the baby? I don't want to harm my baby."

Hera turned with a fake smile and a pair of lying eyeballs, "This is for you, not the baby. The baby is fine. Remember, I'm a US State of Florida certified and trained baby doctor, the best in Miami. Just lay quiet and rest, dearest," patting the sunlamp head.

Misty exhaled with a puff of worry, moving ahead and stopped, climbing over the long sofa that was made of clean bed linens and rested over the bed covers with a worried brow. Hera placed a set of sunglasses over the eyelashes of Misty with a wicked grin. Misty closed her eyelashes inside the sunglasses. Hera turned and set the timer, pressing the button for fifteen minutes of radiated artificial sun beams on the covered abdomen of Misty, where the baby was growing.

12:12 p.m.

Hot temperatures and rain showers

Den office setting of Misty Marie

The thunder cloud sounded with a boom. The lightning bolt danced in front of the windows.

Hera moved from the kitchen, wiping off the smirk from her face, marching down the narrow hallway to Misty, stopping and stood in front of the den door, sliding the office chair to the side.

The door opened.

Hera stood in the archway, hearing the loud thunder clouds without seeing the pretty yellow bolts of lightning. The den space was enclosed for studying and readying with distractions from the outside world. She stared at Misty and advanced into the den room with a smirk. "You looked nice and tanned. How do you feel, dearest?"

Misty turned and sat upright on top of the long sofa with a smile. "I feel fine. I would..."

She wiggled the syringe with a smirk. "I must acquire another blood test to check on the baby and your health."

Misty extended a right middle finger that was not aching for another painful blood puncture in silence. Hera stabbed the needle, pressed the finger meat and collected a few drops of blood and turned with the syringe, leaving the den space and moved across the laboratory in silence.

Misty stood and followed the back spine on Hera through the archway, across the hallway, and stood inside the archway of the laboratory in worried silence.

12:14 p.m.

Laboratory room setting of Hera

Hera stopped and stood in front of the long metal counter, smearing and pressing the blood onto a clear slide, scooting it underneath the electronic microscope for review.

Misty said with a nod and a smile. "Dr. Hera, I feel very healthy. Thank you for your attention and medical treatment. I would like to leave here, today, since Frank's not available. I can contact..."

She studied the electronic results of the third blood on the screen with a smirk of happiness, reaching and pressed the printer button. The paper rolled off the tiny printer into her hand. She whispered for her eardrums only. "The baby is normal again." She spun around with a smirk and a pair of lying eyeballs to see Misty, rattling the paper and advanced to Misty. "You can leave anytime you want, Misty. But I'm afraid that I have some bad news about the baby based on your latest blood report. I have advised lots of rest. Resting, sleeping, and relaxing are very good keys in protecting the developing and growing fetus. You have been walking and standing and marching around too much even inside this small room. You are here for both containment and comfort, dearest. The baby is in distress, Misty." Misty gasped with shock, slapping her open mouth with a pair of manicured hand. Hera smiled with a pair of lying eyeballs. "But I can help the baby with a small simple procedure to save the child."

Misty sobbed with a set of tears. "My baby's in distress that is not good. I want my husband. Frankie's a doctor..."

"Skin doctor," Hera laughed. "Your husband Frank, Dr. Mangrove is licensed for the US State of Florida as a medical dermatologist, treating skin problems. I am a licensed baby doctor. There are gigantic differences in our field works and medical skills. Do you want the baby healthy and alive, dearest?"

"Yes," Misty whispered with a sob and a set of tears.

"Excellent, follow me," Hera turned with a smirk and moved to the wall, where a naked steel coated operating table stood alone inside the same laboratory room. She scooted around the table, standing in front of a wall with bed linens and small medical instruments and grabbed a set of bed linens, swinging around and dressed the naked table with a blanket and bed linens. "Come on, Misty. We must perform this little operation quickly and quietly for the baby to remain healthy," patting the blanket.

Misty turned with a gasp of fear and slowly ventured on a pair of naked feet to the blanket covered operating table, stepping onto the pre-offered stool, sitting on top of the bed linens.

Hera ordered. "Lie down." Misty rested over the operating table, sobbing with fright. Hera turned with a smirk and moved to the archway, leaning a face into the hallway with a smirk. The hallway was clear. The castle was quiet. All the other whores and gays were drugged up and sleeping inside the Florida room. She closed the door and turned around, moving to the long metal counter, grabbing a pre-mixed IV needle of sedation and spun around, moving to Misty.

Misty fidgeted with nervousness on top of the operating table, sobbing with worry.

Hera stopped and stood over Misty with a wicked grin and a pair of lying eyeballs. "There, there, dearest, you and baby are going to be fine. This is short medical procedure. This IV needle contains a small amount of sleeping portion. You will be awake in thirty minutes. I promise." Hera leaned over and gently stabbed the tender vein in the forearm of Misty.

The sedative worked very quickly.

Misty closed and opened her eyelashes, resisting the medication. Finally, she fell into a deep slumber.

Hera softly chuckled with a clap, turning and moved back to the long metal counter, gathering the sterile equipment of one alcohol pad and the new syringe needle, a special blend. She swung around with a chuckle and a smirk, moving and stopped, standing in front of the naked abdomen of Misty, leaning over without a pair of medical gloves, wiping the skin with the alcohol pad and then inserted the needle with the device into the belly button of Misty.

The belly button burped and swelled, absorbing the foreign substance, bleeding from the quick stabbing procedure.

Hera swabbed the red blood from the skin with an evil laugh. "Done!"

Three days earlier

Friday July 23rd

City of Miami

Lawyer office setting with Hera

3:03 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

"That bastard," Hera whispered for her eardrums only, sitting inside the leather chair of her local attorney, scanning the tall stack of legal documents.

The US Federal Government lawyers had presented a set of legal lawsuits for a set of outstanding estate taxes on the abandoned sea castle in Big Pine Key of Ned Nessle plus a set of US State of Florida malpractice lawsuits for a group of deformed fetuses that were birthed into deformed children and then added into the legal entanglement all the Charity Healthcare System by the Quartet Assholes lawsuits for neglect and obstruction of justice.

All the lawsuits snatched, grabbed, and held all the leftover stolen cash of millions inside the bank accounts of both dead Ned Nessle and fuming Hera Hernandez.

After one night of multiple sex acts, inside the sea castle and inside the same bed mattress, while Ned's mental mind had gone astray from snorting up illegal drugs, except his right signature hand had worked very well, since Hera was a trained and certified US State of Florida licensed medical physician, who was not extremely rich but greatly desired to be.

Hera presented and slid into his right signature hand a new set of legal papers where Ned and she owned a second sea castle in the tiny beach town of Marathon that was located on the Atlantic side of shoreline of Florida. Hera didn't know how long Ned would keep her mind and her body occupied, since he mumbled about his young wife that lived inside an apartment on Brickell Avenue in downtown Miami, every night and every morning.

Hera had not met the young pretty wife but heard about her during Ned's psychotic dreams during sleep, so Hera wanted her own piece of the Florida shoreline as a goodbye souvenir in case things didn't work out for her and Ned.

However, Ned must have figured out that his tall cash pile had been shorten, after he had become sober from the drugs and the alcohol, then he had added the name of his lover Hera Hernandez to all the legal documents and the bank accounts for his eternal love as a talented banker.

Instead, Ned's intrusion into the world of Hernandez had prevented Hera from easier leaving the USA. And all the numerous lawsuits had trapped her into a criminal trial on the calendar date of August first which would show off Tom's lawyering and Frank's tattling.

Then Hera will toast like a pan of burnt sweet rolls, sizzling within the oven heated flames inside the gas chamber of Tallahassee the next week, since the citizens of Florida hated baby killers. She would lose everything, while they would win everything.

Hera hated the blessed Quartet, consisting on Tom, Austin, Stu, and Frank, since the genius physician Dr. Mangrove had figured out her little bitty mistake of the newly birthed and deformed newborn babies.

Two months ago, while working on the first criminal murder case of the Quartet, Frank had uncovered a series of numerous clinical errors within the laboratory amino test on the dead fetuses at thirty-seven weeks which was misdiagnosed by Hera. The mom-to-be could have aborted the sick fetus, instead the young couple will be paying a set of heavenly medical bills, enduring numerous painful and expensive medical operations, providing a place of special schooling, set of special clothes, and an assortment of special medical gear for each and every deformed kid, because Hera had made a massive medical mistake during the clinical examination.

Correction there, presently soonest, Frank with his billions of US dollars would be paying for all the deformed kids that Hera accidentally created on planet Earth over the past six months.

So Hera would keep close and comfy his wife Misty Marie inside the den space and far away from her husband Frank of Coral Beach until all the evil deeds were done and paid for by asshole Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third.

Presently, Hera stared at Misty with a smirk and a soft giggle of victory.

Misty was young and beauty and could produce a set of gorgeous little babies too as Hera sold each one to a nice American or foreign wealthy adoptable mom and dad couple. When Misty was all used up, Hera would sell Misty to the highest bidder as Frank would greatly suffer long days and long nights, not knowing if his wife Misty Marie was alive or dead.

Evil was alive. Evil was good. Evil was great.

Hera mentally quoted one of many mottos from Ned of pure evil, the brother of the devil, making her the mistress of the devil, the temptress of darkness. Hera needed to make and purchase a State of Florida vanity license plate on her new sports car, once paid by Frank's bank account.

She laughed, day dreaming of her new assets, new toys, and new opportunities with Frank's billions of dollars with a smirk and a whisper. "Mangrove can't touch his wife or she will die now."

Misty exhaled with a puff of breath, opening her eyelashes, feeling nausea. "Dr. Hera, I feel sick."

Hera turned and moved, stopping and stood over the face of Misty, removing the IV needle with a smirk. "It is only temporary. Let's move you back into the den space. You need to rest and eat, so the baby can grow big and strong like his daddy Frank."

"Okay, Dr. Hera." Misty exhaled with a puff of nausea, struggling to stand from the operating table.
Wednesday July 28th

City of Coral Beach

2:31 a.m.

Home of Austin master bedroom setting

Waning gibbous moon

Warm temperatures with thirty percent rain precipitation

He awoke, blinking his eyelids up at the peach colored painted ceiling and turned to see 2:31 a.m. on the clock on the side table.

He couldn't sleep with the set of terrible nightmares about Misty Marie, so he slowly rolled off the bed mattress and stood, moving to the chest of drawers and dressed in a pair of running shorts and a soft cotton short sleeved shirt.

He back stepped and spun around in a pair of naked feet, moving out the bedroom and down the stairs into the darkness of his home.

Fitness room setting

5:14 a.m.

Austin felt guilt as hell about the disappearance of Misty Marie, slamming a folded fist into the twirling punching bag. He should have been present at ranch house in Ocala that afternoon, since he would have beaten the crap of kidnappers. Actually, Austin would have strangled them with a pair of two bare hands if he had figured out they wanted to harm Misty Marie.

Austin did not have a wife but felt overprotective with all the wives of the Quartet like a set of "real" sisters to him. He jumped back from the twirling punching bag and turned, running and hopped upon the jogging trek mill, pounding a pair of naked feet over the hard rubber, adding more sweat to his sweaty and stinky body.

He mentally debated within his active neurons that he should have been there and then Misty would be All right and at home with Frank. Correction there, Misty would be clothing shopping on Miracle Mile this morning instead Mrs. Mangrove was still missing without a clue or a hint of her safe return.

Austin jogged backwards from the trek mill and halted, breathing heavy and sweating profusely and turned, dashing to the leg machine and slid into the soft seat. He pumped each leg one at a time and then both legs at the same time on the leg lifting machine, exercising out his stress, distress, and frustration with vigorous pain.

There had been no physical ransom note, no verbal telephone call, or a visual television report about Misty and her whereabouts.

Best guess, the Quartet had hypothesized. Misty was protecting the Florida panther from a set of mean human predators, when the humans captured her and the cat, taking them to a secret place somewhere in South Florida. Misty's terrain vehicle was found, after the posse of Quartet riders had come home for lunch, near the panther's cave.

Austin stopped pumping the legs and scooted off the leg machine and turned, breathing heavy and dashing to the next machine, slid into the seat, flipping a chest up and down on the stomach crunching machine, exercising out his vicious and vile feelings with frustration and pain.

The Quartet had received a set of spying reports that Misty Marie, the panther, and the kidnappers had not crossed the Florida state line into the other US State of Alabama, Georgia, or South Carolina. With a set of evil kidnappers, they liked and kept the bounded hostages close and guarded for a set of fast results with the worried and upset family members to acquire the money and then run away from the local police.

Austin slammed a back spine into the back rest of the machine with a grunt of frustration, scooting off with heavy breathes and stood, turning and dashing back and leaped on top of the jogging trek mill, running on a pair of naked feet and pondering his mental thoughts of worry and hate.

He would personally pay and delivery in a cloth bag of cold hard cash in one billion dollars for the save return of his Quartet sister Misty Marie. Then he would sacrifice his person, killing the assholes for his revenge just to have her safe inside the arms of Frank forever.

Austin jogged backward off the jogging trek mill and stood in place, huffing in heavy breathes and turned, shuffling to the wall, where a stand of vary sized free weights stood alone against the lavender colored wall inside the fitness room. He reached and slowly lifted a twenty-pound weight in each folded fist, slowly exercising up and down the bicep muscles in pain and frustration.

The Quartet was falling apart.

Tom had been court-ordered into a rehabilitation ward at Charity South Miami Hospital upon the discovery of a mysterious pharmaceutical drug inside his biological system when he accidentally caused a fake two-car accident. Since someone was after Austin's baby brother and Tom's innocent precious life.

Then Misty Marie was mysterious kidnapped at the guarded and armed Quartet owned ranch house in Ocala along with a healthy and pregnant black Florida panther from the protective animal sanctuary on the farm land too.

And finally, Frank was completely comatose from both grief and pain, suffering without his wife Misty Marie.

Frank had reacted with total shock, speechless, and displayed a ghostly pale appearance even inside the long four-hour car ride from Ocala back home to Coral Beach in the sport car, regarding Misty Marie's mysterious disappearance. He did not talk, curse, or speak of promising speculations.

Austin silently parked and dropped off a sad-faced Frank at the mansion, returning to Stu's manor. Stu and Austin were busy, making hundreds of telephone calls along with hundreds of interviews on Stu's new leads, clues, and hints of Misty Marie's secretly hidden location.

However, the leads, clues and hints led to zero, nothing, nada and no location of Misty Marie.

Austin slowly lifted each twenty-pound weight, panting with a set of heavy breathes up toward a chin.

The day of Sunday and the date of July twenty-four was getting worse with no demand of money and exchange of information about Misty Marie.

The Quartet had billions of dollars to give away for free, if only the kidnapper would call and ask for the money while returning Misty safe into the arms of Frank. Austin would arrange the money drop in person anywhere, any place, and anytime within the metro city or a cold spot inside the surrounding areas of Miami or beyond the outskirts of Miami, if need be. Austin would have preferred the outskirts of the city, since he could hide a dead body or two much easier.

Stu had decided that the local police would not be involved, unless the situation turned critical and deadly. He had gathered and ordered every available QA team to investigation inside every known and unknown neighborhood in and out of the city limits of Miami to find Misty Marie or a single clue to her whereabouts and then hand over the information to the Quartet.

The two remaining fourths of the Quartet would take care of the kidnappers and rescue Misty Marie all at the same time.

Gage had jetted over on numerous private airplanes additional Quartet Associate guard units from the foreign countries of France, Spain, Italy, and the United Kingdom to help with the foreign language barrier within a multi-cultural Miami and to find and located Misty Marie.

However, so far, Misty Marie was still missing. There had not been one single clue to her whereabouts inside or outside of Miami.

"Damn it to hell," Austin huffed with angry and tossed each weight into the forward wall with a grunt, breaking the lavender colored paint and pivoted, trotting out the fitness center, over the floor and up the staircase.

He entered his master bedroom and dressed in a sweaty body with a pair of walking shorts and a set of boat shoes, turning and dashing out the bedroom, down the staircase, heading into the garage space.

The door slammed against the wall and slowly closed shut.

Austin stopped and stood, opening the door of his sports car and slid into the leather seat, cranking the cold engine, slapping the garage door to open.

He didn't warm the engine, gunning the gas pedal, zooming from the garage and turned with a skid onto Coral Lane, flying down the middle of the street to Frank's house.

7:08 a.m.

Home of Dr. and Mrs. Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III

Master bedroom setting

Cold temperatures and rain clouds with thirty precipitation

The Mangrove mansion had been inspired by the grand architecture of the fifteenth century cathedrals of an Old World Spain, where the great, great grandfather Mangrove had lived as a teenager. The palace of Frank and Misty was designed with a perfect blend of metropolitan and rustic elegance plus all the city slick conveniences, including the slated gray colored tile roof, a brown tinted cobblestone driveway, and a set of romantic black tinted gaslight sconces. The twin towers of Gothic gray stoned arches each hold an iron coated bell, sweetly chiming the hour with a perfectly pitched music tone.

The twin towers measured fifty feet high up from the flat golden tinted sands that displayed a baby blue skyline and a panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean on three sides of the mansion. The mansion was built by true American and European craftsmen, hauling a set of brown tinted iron stones from a rock quarry in the high mountains of the foreign country of Spain along with boasting a vine-covered outside patios, several flowered courtyard entrances, lighted romantic lanterns, elegantly arched doorways, marble flooring, granite counters, and exquisite wood moldings.

Frank knelt onto the thick carpet, interlocking a set of manicured fingers, bowing a skull in respect, praying softly for all eardrums, "Almighty God, Holy Brother Jesus Christ, Heavenly Host, and all my heavenly angels, please save Misty. I love her. I can't live without my wife. Please take the baby, if you must take a life but not Misty, not my love. I can't live without her," the set of wet hot tears flowed out a pair of emerald green colored eye sockets, since Frank could not think, act, eat or live without Misty Marie, his soul mate and his sole life.

Austin parked the car and scooted out the door, leaving it open, dashing to the front door and slammed the wood.

The door opened.

He stood inside the archway, surveying the cool-looking dark twelfth century replica of a Norman Hallway of Great Britain.

The hallway held two rows of parallel medieval knights in real shining shimmery steel armor with a single dull steel sword, a posed skull helmet without a set of earlobes and eyeballs and all the scary ghosts.

Frank had claimed that the ghostly sounds were really a set of tiny musical noises that were emitted from the steel plated skeleton armor on each knight statue as the wind twirled around the delicate steel armor.

Tom called the sound mice with a grin and giggle.

Stu did not comment with a stern face.

Austin found it all intriguing along with his brothers.

The Norman Hallway ran down and emptied into a magnificent one-hundred-foot-wide by one hundred and fifty-foot-long grand room, presenting on this day with a set of closed window drapes. The marble lined foyer was quiet and clean. The books were unopened on the wooden shelves.

The faces of both the dead and live family Mangrove that hung on the wall stared down at the clean floor and the back spine on Austin.

The live flora flowers were dead and the colorful scented wax candles were unlit.

A disturbing sign, the stained windows that were usually opened revealing prism light were shut, blocking out the lily greenish pond water and natural colorful flower gardens at the rear of the castle.

There was not a sound or a movement of people, dishes or smells.

"Frank!" Austin shouted, since Frank was not his usual asshole self, appearing terribly upset about the disappearance of Misty. Austin jogged around the first floor, scanning and searched for Frank and moved to the second level, then the third level, and finally the master bedroom onto the fourth floor.

He stood inside the open archway, seeing the spiraling strands of red curly hair as the red colored hair roots peek-a-booed up and over a maroon and silver laced velveteen bed spread on the opposite side of the room.

Frank sat on the other side of the bed frame in a cross-legged pose, bowing a face down into his chest, griping all his knuckles into white colors.

Austin dashed from the archway, sliding around the bed post and leaned down, slamming into the side of Mangrove with a whisper, pulling Frank into a chest for brotherly love and protection, "Frank."

"I can't live without Misty," Frank sobbed with a set of wet tears and a whisper, without moving or viewing his brother Austin, "I will die first."

"I swear to Almighty God, I'll find her, Frank. She's safe. I know in my heart. Misty's safe. I swear to you, brother." Austin leaned over with a worried brow and whispered into the face of Frank.

"I can't breathe without her. I love her, so much. She's my soul mate, Austin." Frank sobbed with a set of wet tears and a whisper.

"I understand. It's All right, Frank. Everything's All right. I promise I'll find her. I promise to you and Almighty God." Austin man-pulled Frank up by the shoulders from the carpet and hugged him into a chest.

They slowly turned and slowly moved from the bedroom, down the staircase, and finally out the mansion and into the sports car.

Frank stared with a set of blood shot eyeballs through the windshield, sobbing and crying with a set of wet hot tears that trailed down a swollen red face of worry and sadness.

Home of Gracie and Stuart

Florida room setting

7:13 a.m.

He started the engine, rolling the car from the mansion toward the palace of Stu with a whisper for his eardrums only. "Fuck." Frank needed some serious help, needed his family members, and needed his brothers. Frank could not be alone anymore. Austin stopped and parked his car underneath the veranda of the cool-looking log-like built mansion.

The nine point five acres of country charm was designed with numerous dark colored wooden logs over the golden colored sand. The house contained thirteen bedrooms, sixteen bathrooms, twelve-foot ceilings of curved wooden moldings, a set of hardwood floors, a formal dining room, a sun room, and three master bedrooms on each floor. The manor had a set of French doors that led into thirteen separate and private outside patios. There were five working fireplaces, a swimming pool, a running track, a weight room, a home office, a wet bar, a double kitchen with a set of triple ovens, a kitchen island, and a breakfast nook for a quick meal.

The sports car stopped underneath the veranda. Austin cracked open the door and stood with a huff of worry and a heavy heart, leaving the car door open and turned, dashing around the front bumper to the passenger door. He opened the door, leaning down and gently eased Frank out from the passenger seat. They turned and moved toward the front door of the new mansion.

Austin kicked the unlocked front door as the door opened and slammed into the wall with a loud boom.

They entered and stopped, standing in the middle of the Florida room, since Stu and Gracie always welcomed a set of loving brothers and sisters into their home.

Gracie stood from the sofa with a gasp and moved, jogging to Austin and Frank and stopped, standing with a smile, reaching and grabbed the hand of Frank. She turned and helped guide Frank with Austin to the long sofa inside the Florida room.

Jane stood with a worried brow and a gasp and moved, stopping and sat beside Frank on the same long sofa, reaching and held the other hand of Frank in silence for sisterly love.

Stu entered from the kitchen, chewing on the food item and stopped, standing in place and stared at the red swollen of Frank with a sour frown.

Frank sat on top of the long sofa, crying and sobbing as a set of clear snot ran down his two nose holes, staring at the floor.

Gracie, Jane, Stu, and Austin moved and huddled together near the kitchen door. Austin softly said away from the eardrums of Frank, "Frank can't be alone ever."

"What do we do?" Gracie whispered with a nod.

"Get him a nurse companionship for twenty-four hours and seven days per week," Janey said with worry.

"At his house," Stu looked over the hair roots on Austin and stared at Frank on the long sofa.

"I don't like that idea," Austin shook a skull.

"Neither, do I. Frank is family, so he stays with us." Gracie nodded with a smile.

"Just like a baby," Stu chewed the food and stared with a sour frown down at the hair roots on Frank on the long sofa.

"Right, Stu, he is like a baby. He's your brother. Frank's my brother. I'm his sister. He needs our help, love, and support. He's a little boy, without Misty." Gracie nodded with a worried brow to each face.

"He's hurt and lost like an injured puppy," Jane nodded with a worried heart to each face.

Stu chewed the food with a frown. "Injured puppy!?"

"You heard the cowgirl. Frank stays with you. Gracie is going to personally care for him, instead of a day nurse." Austin nodded with a smile to each face as a loving brother, not the boss of the Quartet.

"Who cares for me?" Stu turned and frowned down at the hair roots on Gracie, chewing the food item.

Gracie turned and stabbed a purple colored manicured index fingernail into the hard chest of Stu, jabbing it over and over with her new command. "You find Misty. I don't care how long it takes. Don't come home tonight, without Misty. Have you got that, Big Man?"

Stu parted his lips, exposing the food particles and closed his mouth to swallow. Austin snorted. Janey smirked. Stu whined. "But, Gracie babe..."

Gracie back stepped with a stern face and a serious tone from Stu, crossing her arms, shaking her black colored curls. "I mean it, Stuart Thant Gage, the third. No Misty, no me."

"Holy crap, but, Gracie babe," Stu whined.

Gracie unfolded her arms, leaning over and tapped a finger on the hard chest of Stu with a sneer. "Do not Gracie babe me. Find Misty, then you can come home to me."

Stu gasped. "It's my house."

Gracie snarled to Gage. "It's our house. I signed those papers too. Or I will be filing a set of D-papers with the lawyers at Quartet Associates, also. Right, Janey?"

Janey nodded with a stern face. "Right, Gracie."

Stu whined. "But, Gracie babe, where do I sleep tonight?"

Gracie turned and smiled to Berrington. "Austin's house."

Janey slapped her blouse with a smile, "Or you can stay at mine house, since I am staying here with Gracie and taking care of Frank also."

Gracie turned and smiled to Janey. "Right, girlfriend, I accept the help." She turned and jabbed a fingernail at Stu, Austin, and the archway, "Both of you get going now and find Misty. Bring her back here now. Frank is both safe and sound. We won't let anything happen to him." Gracie turned and marched to the side table, swiftly pulling out her lady Ghost from the oversized designer handbag, displaying the dangerous weapon in the air waves with a smirk. Austin chuckled. Stu pouted. Janey laughed.

"Gracie babe!?" Stu whined.

"Shit fire, if someone makes Frank hiccup, he's dead." Gracie nodded with a smile and twirled her lady Ghost at the trigger finger between a set of two manicured fingernails like a gun expert. Gracie attended a gun class every week, learning about the caring of a hand gun and keeping her shooting skills accurate with her husband Gage. Austin and Janey laughed. Stu pouted. Gracie jabbed a free finger at the archway for a second time, "Get moving, boys."

"Yes ma'am." Austin turned with a smirk and dashed to the opened door.

Big Man slowly moved ahead and looked over a collar bone with a sad face to see his wife Gracie. She continued to jab a finger at the archway with a nod and a stern face. Stu looked ahead and moved through the archway of his house with a sad face.

Outside veranda setting

Austin dashed out the door and slid into open car door and down the driver's seat. Stu moved and entered the open door of the passenger chair. Berrington cranked the engine motor, warming the car with a smile and a nod. "Damn, Gracie's tough."

Stu exhaled and inhaled, looking down with a sad face at the floor mats. "You have no idea. She should run for president of the USA. This country would be cleaned up or shot up in six weeks. Hells bells, Frank should, I mean Misty should," He turned and frowned at the nose profile on Austin. "Can I stay with you, Austin? I mean, bro, shit."

"Don't fret, Stu. We're brothers, welcome to my home. But I have a feeling that we will not be at my house much anyways." Austin pressed the gas pedal, slowly driving from the mansion and down Coral Lane.

"The office," Stu nodded.

"Round up the guards, the radios, the maps, the guns, and the computers to find Misty. By the grace of God, if she is harmed?" Austin drove through the second sentry gate with a growl.

Stu said. "That's Frank's rite of passage he gets to kill by his method the abductor."

"I'm just mad, angry, worried, upset, and pissed off. Damn it to hell, how in the shit did this happen to the Quartet?" Austin drove through the first sentry gate at reason speed, steering down Sunset Drive toward the highway at a safe speed.

"We'll figure that out later. Find her and help Frank, that's our priority for today. Then I can return home to my wife, my home, and my golf game." Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Austin. "Thomas?"

"Tom cannot help us." Austin stopped and turned at the traffic light onto US Highway One, driving the speed limit toward the headquarter building of Quartet Associates. "Frank's not going to release him, especially in his state of mind. And I don't want Frank committed as well."

"I agree with that but, gawd, Tom has great instincts, especially in a crisis." Stu exhaled.

Austin drove with a nod. "I feel the same way but Tom's not himself, either. He and Janey are in the process of divorcing. He wouldn't be helping really, just in the way. Are there any new leads on the whereabouts of Misty, Stu?"

"No," Stu huffed, shaking a bald skull, watching the trees fly.

"Any new clues, Stu?"

"No."

"Any new ideas, Stu?"

"Yeah, one, Misty and Misty's blue diamonds, those babies are very rare and very valuable. The fucking guys wanted her diamonds and took Misty to keep her quiet." Stu turned and nodded to the nose profile on Austin.

Austin drove with a nod and a grin. "Good idea, have all the guards inspect and question all unreputable pawn and scrum shops in downtown Miami. All the 'A', 'B', 'C', 'D', 'E,' and 'F' QA teams have a new task, search the jewelry stores for any of her stolen diamonds and any new leads of any and all blue diamond chats or conversations among the jewelers, be it electronic, written or vocal."

"Search warrants?" Stu said.

"Tom's job. Shit, who's our head attorney, now?" Austin slapped the brake pedal at the red traffic light with a sour frown.

"Richardson," Stu said.

Austin pressed the gas pedal with a nod. "Call and get his ass out of bed! As a matter of fact, go and get sleeping cots, warm fuzzy blankets, and tons of sleeping pillows. I want him and four more lawyers at the office working twenty-four hours and seven days each week for our beckoning call with any and all legal shit. Damn it to hell! I miss Tom already." He exhaled with sadness and painful memories.

"How's he doing? When did Jace see Tom, last?" Stu frowned.

"Our spy says he was mad on the first day, a shy kid on the second day. Now, Tom has moved from an obnoxious student to the class clown." Austin smiled.

"Teacher's pet." Stu chuckled.

"He's entertaining the residents of Rehab Ward 18 with a set of charades of his science fiction characters from the Hollywood movies and Tom's make-believe outer spacey novels," Austin chuckled.

Stu laughed, "Tom's right at home with the other loony-toony, loco, and crazy folks."

Austin sneered. "Don't boast, Stu! Tom's not right at home. His home is here with us. This delicate fucking-ass emergency proves it. I swear to Almighty God, if Tom hasn't healed himself by the time we find Misty, then I'm going to order Frank to sign him out of the rehab. Then I'll beat the shit of him, straightening his ass out."

Stu laughed. "Will that work, Old Man?"

"You will not know, if you do not try it, Big Man?" Austin stopped at the red traffic light.

"You should have been a doctor, bro." Stu chuckled.

Austin sneered. "Don't tease me, Stu. I'm not in the mood. You can't take Tom's place for wet whacky wit."

Stu snorted, "Gawd, say that three times really fast, Austin."

Austin pressed the gas pedal with a sneer, "What!?"

"Wet whacky wit?" Stu laughed.

Austin snorted. "If you wouldn't so big, I'd slap your face. But you're too entertaining, Big Man."

"Wet whacky what. Wet whack wit. Wet what it." Stu laughed.

Austin snorted. "I take it back. You get second place for stupid silly shit."

"Gawd, you're on a roll man. Stupid silly shit. Spit su shit." Stu laughed.

"Stu," Austin frowned

"Sorry," Stu pulled out and typed a new text on his mobile telephone, alerting all the QA team members.

Austin turned and pulled the sports car across the highway toward the parking lot of the headquarters building at Quartet Associates.

City of South Miami (three miles west of Coral Beach)

Charity Hospital Rehabilitation Ward 18

4:57 p.m.

Waning gibbous moon

Warm temperatures of clear sky and bright stars

Tom had grown a new set blondish-red facial beard and gained some weight upon his lanky tallness from eating too much without stress and no bossy orders, especially from asshole Austin. He was relaxed, entertained, happy, and desperately missed Jane. He ate the evening meal with his new friends with a smile and a laugh of fun.

Jane was mad at him, filing a set of divorce papers with a couple of the Quartet lawyers. Tom did not blame her and loved her too much to continue hurting her tender and caring emotions and feelings. Once Tom was released from the court-ordered rehabilitation center, then he will romance her twice with a series of fun loving events on a set of new dates. Then he will ask Jane to marry him twice, since Jane was the only girl in the universe for Tom. No one else could take her place ever.

Misty Marie had written her requests on a set of tiny paper notes for Frank, giving them to the nice cleaning lady named Marie for safekeeping and the final delivery to the Quartet. Marie worked one housekeeping job at the Charity Kendall Hospital during the day time hours and then three more house cleaning positions at three different privately owned mansions inside the resort town of Marathon Key during the evening hours. The four jobs paid the rent, electricity, and food for her and her four high school sons who all lived in a two-bedroom apartment inside the village of Redwoods.

Marie did not know the members of the Quartet, except for a blonde-haired man inside rehabilitation ward eighteen at Charity South Miami Hospital rehabilitation center, who talked about four people all the time during his meal times chats. So she assumed that the funny and silly guy must be Frank, the husband of the pretty young wife.

The wife was very sad that her husband was locked in here for acting crazy loco.

Marie stood against the wall during her break time and watched the handsome young man perform some silly acts during the evening snack time inside ward eighteen.

Tom was not allowed one single newspaper or a single television set or a single mobile telephone or a single piece of new information regarding the nasty outside world of the city of Miami, the State of Florida or the fucking world inside rehab ward eighteen.

But Tom had something better, lots of science fiction books, since Frank had probably dropped them off during one of his many hidden secret spying visits on his brother who continued to be locked inside a rehabilitation facility. Tom was not allowed a visitor either per the judge's orders or Frank's orders or someone's orders?

Tom did not give a damn being happy here, since he was teacher, reading to his new group of whacko friends and then acted out one of the fictional characters from one the numerous science fiction novels, entertaining the troops of crazies. He liked the boys and girls of Ward 18 which was by the paid clinical staff members of Charity South Miami Hospital. For the evening entertainment show tonight, Tom decided to imitate a sweet Misty Marie, since he would never do that in front of her face, because the action would hurt Misty's tender loving nice feelings.

Misty was very sensitive and very precious to Tom and everyone she met, because Mrs. Mangrove did not have any enemies. If she did, Frank had eliminated them immediately. Tom loved Jane like that too and he would kill for her like Mangrove.

Tom wrapped up his Hollywood show, prissing and wiggling an ass right out of the common room floor and into the open door of the linen room that was filled with a set of clean and pressed white towels, bed sheets, and washcloths.

The gang of captured crazy inmates was laughing, clapping, and hooting with fun, after Tom's lovely Hollywood actor performance, since all the Ward 18 inmates were clueless about his new wacky character. Tom did not give a shit, since his act was funny and dramatic, making them and him both happy.

The crazy patients stood and shuffled around in a pair of naked feet, a pair of mismatched bed slippers or a pair of sneakers from the common room and into a personal jail cell, a bathroom, or the common kitchen for plate of food.

The shy cleaning lady turned and followed Tom into his private jail prison room. She silently approached from behind. Tom sat on the bed, removing his sneakers. She entered the room and stood at the nose profile on Tom with a set of her broken English words in mystery. "She. Okay."

Tom dropped the sneaker and turned to see the cleaning lady with a smile. The black-haired lady cleaned the kitchen and the individual bathrooms between the dinner and evening snacks and did not normally communicate with housed Ward 18 inmates. Tom had noted that she enjoyed watching his Hollywood show for the past few nights. So, he had gotten a fan, saying with a smile, "Who? You are okay?"

"Misty Marie," the smiling lady said in her broken English.

Tom stiffened with fear and stood, turning with a stern face to see her brown eyes. The cleaning lady could not have possibly guessed that the new whacky character was Misty Marie.

Misty was known as the beautiful model wife of Frank, but the jokes, the gossip, and the datum stopped there. If Misty's name appeared in an electronic or a written journal as an unfavorable light, then Frank ordered a death sentence on the folks. Just kidding! Tom slapped a hefty monetary lawsuit into the media's dick and up their asshole then the media company stopped printing her proper name. End of story.

Tom guessed that the cleaning lady might have made the same connection on Tom to Misty from one of the many newspapers. He smiled with delight. "Misty Marie, you know her, too? How's she doing?"

"Sad, si," the lady lifted and presented a set of small folded paper notes to Tom. She had accumulated the papers for the past three days from working and cleaning at the mansion at Marathon Key during the very short visits to a sad and pretty Misty Marie.

Tom accepted the folded paper notes with a smile. "What's this?" He opened the first one, reading out loud the hand written message with a smile. "Frankie, love you. Safe. Your Misty Marie." He opened next the next folded paper note, reading out loud with a stern face, "Frankie, love you. Get me. Your, Misty Marie." He quickly and silently scanned the rest of the folded paper notes, verifying Misty's authentic handwriting and felt curiously puzzled, strangely confused, and slightly mad, looking up with a stern face to see the cleaning lady. "What's with the notes?"

"Sad, si," the cleaning lady pointed to the papers with a sad face.

He looked down with an angry face to read the paper notes. "Now, I understand. Frank employs people from Charity to clean his filthy dirty mansion. Wait until I see gawd damn Frank. My asshole brothers give me a hard time about green cards. Fucking asshole," Tom exhaled with fury.

"Frank, si." the lady smiled and pointed at Tom with a nod, since she had found the young girl's husband.

Tom whispered with a sour frown. "Yeah, get asshole Frank, later." He turned and smiled to the cleaning lady. "Okay, I give up. Tell me why is Misty unhappy, sad, or depressed? What the fuck did asswipe Frank do to her? I'm surprised that Stu ain't kicked his ass for being an asshole. Frank deserves that especially from me, too," chuckling.

"Baby, si," the lady smiled and pointed down to her abdomen.

Tom gasped with a smile and a nod to the cleaning lady. "Misty's pregnant with a baby. That's wonderful news for Misty and asswipe Frank. He should be happy. He's going to be a father. I'm happy for Frank too. Is Misty at home? In the hospital? Is that why she is sad?"

The cleaning lady shook her curls with a sad frown, "No, home. No, hospital. Island, si. Misty Marie, si."

Tom shook his long bangs with a confused brow. "Fuck Frank, he's always thinking about himself, instead of Misty and the baby. Why ain't he in Coral Beach with Misty? No wonder, she's sad and lonely."

"No, beach. Island, si. Key, si. Misty Marie, si," the lady frowned with the danger for Misty Marie to her husband.

"What's asshole Frank doing on an island in the Keys with Misty pregnant? That ain't good for the baby. She needs rest at her home in Coral Beach. Which island in the Keys? There are hundreds of islands in the Keys." Tom frowned.

"Marathon, si," the cleaning lady nodded with a smile.

"Marathon, I know that particular location with a set of nice non-royal castles that are around lots of water, a nice place to go visit. But still, Misty should be home, not sailing around the world, if she's pregnant with their unborn baby." He whispered. "Fuck you, Frank."

First, Tom did not speak much Spanish but certain words and phrases that was needed for his lawyering work, because that was Frank's historical ancestry. And it was Frank's second job as a language translator, if Tom needed some language assistance.

Second, Tom did not want anyone to know about this private Quartet conversation, since Tom might get into trouble and also might get the nice cleaning lady into more trouble. And the way the serious talk was heading, there seemed to be some kinda trouble for Misty Marie.

"Misty Marie, si. Took, si. Marathon, si," the lady lifted and waved her hands to communicate the danger for Misty Marie to her husband.

"Took? Misty took that vacation on the islands of the Keys. Now, she's home at Coral Beach with Frank. Well, no wonder, she's mad at him. I would..."

"Took, si." The cleaning lady shook her curls with a sour frown, waving her hands to communicate the danger for Misty Marie with her husband, "Misty Marie, si. Marathon, si. Non, Frank."

Tom exhaled and pondered the short words and translated the hidden meaning really slowly. "She took means that Misty Marie took a vacation on Marathon without Frank. That's doesn't make any sense. Why would Misty go without asshole Frank? He's really possessive, actually almost overly possession of Misty Marie. She goes no fucking where without...." He gasped and looked down with a worried brow and re-read all the tiny notes and looked up with a worried mind to see the cleaning lady, the paper notes, the floor, the wall, and finally the cleaning lady again, "Took. Take. Taken. You mean to say kidnap, kidnapped. Misty is kidnapped."

"Si, si," she waved both her arms with a smile, bouncing a pair of dirty sneakers with a goofy smile.

Tom leaned over and grabbed her waving arms with a stern face and a whisper into her face. "How long? How many hours or days?" He held one finger pad in air. "How many days was Misty taken?"

The lady jerked her hand from Tom and lifted the hand, counting on her fingers, "One, two, three, four days, Frank, si." She nodded with a smile.

Tom hesitated with a verbal response, since he realized that all the paper notes were for Frank, not him, so he pretended to be Frank to find Misty Marie on Marathon and then get her back home safely to Coral Beach. He nodded and patted her forearm with a fake smile. "Si, Frank. Si, Misty Marie. I need to get out of here tonight and rescue Misty, si."

"Danger, si. Doctor Hera, si," the cleaning lady nodded with a worried brow.

"Hera, shit. Misty is in big huge danger, si," Tom leaned back and opened both arms with a nod of worry.

"Help, si," the cleaning lady nodded with a smile.

"Great, I need outside, out of the hospital." Tom nodded with a fake smile of worry.

She thumbed back over a collar bone to the empty hallway that lead down to an exit door which was not used, since the Ward 18 inmates enjoyed the personal attention of the paid staff and the good tray of food.

"Sleep, door, go," the lady nodded with a smile.

"Si, si, great idea, you leave the exit door unlocked, I will lock it, after I escape." Tom nodded with a smile of a perfect plan.

"Si, si," the cleaning lady nodded with a smile.

"Gracious, you're an angel." Tom leaned over and hugged the elderly woman, pecking a light kiss on her cheekbone as she blushed in pinky tones. Tom pulled back with a nod and a smile, "Your name, sweet lady?"

"Marie, also," She smiled.

"A twin," Tom chuckled with a nod, greatly desiring to tattle. The simple life of cleaning lady Marie was about to change dramatically. Tom was going to buy her a big house, pay all her bills, sending all her children and her grandchildren to college, and whatever she wanted for the rest of her life for saving the life of his Quartet sister. If Frank did not offer the gift first, but he would, after Misty was safe at home in Coral Beach.

Tom smiled with a nod. "Misty's going to be okay." He looked up and checked the hallway for bodies which was clear. He whispered into her face, "Marie, you should go, okay?"

Marie nodded and back stepped from the room and turning, shuffled the cleaning cart toward the common bathrooms and exit door for the escape plan of the young girl's husband.

First, Tom would rescue Misty. No, Tom needed to find Austin and Stu. Frank was comatose and useless, since Misty Marie was his entire sole life. The guy could not think or breathe without his wife and was probably lying on the floor somewhere, crying his eyeballs out.

Second, the three fourths of the Quartet would rescue Misty and kill every bitch and bastard inside the sea palace on the key of Marathon. Tom knew of the physical location. It was not Ned Nessle's sea castle. So Ned must have left some of the stolen money to that fucking witch doctor Hera. Frank was trying to burn and then bury her ass as a medical baby killer. Now, Hera had kidnapped Misty and would seek revenge against Frank and his Quartet brothers.

Well, it was time to fight evil.

Tom bounced around the room, punching both fists in the air with a chuckle, feeling great about his new purpose in life. He loved Jane with all his heart and loved his Quartet sisters Misty and Gracie too.

Now, Hera had grabbed and harmed one of his Quartet sisters. So she would pay her spilled blood.

Tom softly clapped and rubbed both hands with nervousness, "Thank you, Almighty God, Brother Holy Jesus Christ, The Heavenly Host, all my heavenly angels, and sweet petite Marie."

The Ward 18 nurse yelled, marching down an empty hallway, collecting all the non-sleeping items from inmates. "Play time over. Give me the dishes, wash your hands, brush your teeth, and get into bed, Thomas."

Tom ran and stood inside the open archway of his jail cell, bouncing on a pair of naked toe bones like always. "Yes, Miss Swanson," he repeated the same statement as the last three evenings for the last time, watching. The nurse moved the trash cart down an empty hallway. Tom whispered for his eardrums only, "Play time's over, back to fucking Quartet business and save Misty Marie," hissing with revenge.

The nurse stopped at the end of the nursing station and turned with a stern face and yelled, "Lights out in five minutes that includes you, Sawyer."

Tom always debated and argued for more reading time with one of his precious science fiction novels, since you could not read in the dark. The moon light did not provide sufficient illumination to clearly see the words inside the book.

"Yeah, I remember. I have a law degree. I want to college. I can follow instructions," Tom repeated the same statement as the last three evenings, since the nurse never acknowledged Tom's nasty insults. But she was used to seeing and hearing Tom's comedian roles inside Ward 18. Tom was not acting different, since he didn't want to raise any suspicion of his goofy personality. He did have some fun here for a little while, but his fun had ended.

Misty had been kidnapped and maybe hurt which angered Tom more than pissed him off. Misty Marie was a very kind, gentle, and compassionate woman. Frank overprotected her, but her husband understood his wife's delicate and fragile personality. Frank had that right as her husband, such like, Tom would share the same right as her Quartet brother.

The nurse came around and closed the door of each inmate without a smile or a spoken word.

The door slammed in the face on Tom.

He back stepped and paced around the floor, feeling nervousness, excitement and fury, whispering for his eardrums only. "Shit, I'm running out of time. Turn the fucking lights off." He turned and messed up the nicely folded bed sheets like he was there but he will not be in a few more minutes. He turned and sat on the bed sheets, replacing back the socks and sneakers, twitching both the sneakers back and forth, feeling lucky to have his own private jail cell inside Ward 18.

Jace had arranged the private jail cell, not Frank. Once Misty Marie was rescued and recovered, Tom was going to beat the shit of Frank. But Frank didn't act alone. Austin was the mastermind on Tom's imprisonment for accidentally causing a two-car accident. However, Tom really did not recall hitting another vehicle at the traffic light intersection. Hell, Tom did not remember the traffic light at the road intersection, either.

He recalled the delicious dinner with Keith Newman about his first US federal legal law case, starting his own private law practice. He enjoyed the shrimp, the steak, the dessert, and the glasses of wines but preferred lots and lots of cold bottled beer. Tom remembered being sick inside the stomach as he rested inside the Coral Gables prison jail before the bail hearing. However, he was never sick and was healthy than a horse.

The overhead lamps went black as Tom whispered for his eardrums only, "Time to go." He stood and turned, dashing to the closed door and swing it fully open, exposing his entire tallness, because each individual door was not locked or guarded. The Ward 18 inmates ran fancy free and foot loose, moving into the kitchen for food or the common bathroom for peeing and shitting. Each jail cell did not contain a sink or a commode.

The Ward 18 rehabilitation guard was leaning over the tall office desk, flirting with both the night nurses inside the nursing station, without the sleek and expensive security cameras, since the Ward-18 patients paid an arm and a leg for the personal service, guidance, and privacy as the local poco loco but wealthy nuts.

Tom turned and folded down his tallness and swiftly ass-crawled from his private jail cell, moving an empty hallway, tapping the wall with a shoulder toward the exit door at the end of the long hallway. He recalled all the exits, the entrances, the guard stations, the patient rooms, the kitchen, the bathrooms, and the play rooms on his first play day even with a madman mental thought of killing off a set of three non-biological brothers, since Tom had been thoroughly trained as a Quartet warrior by Stu, the warrior god.

Stu enjoyed way too much the personally physical, mental, and psychological war/battle/killing training session at/on/with/against the Quartet. Gawd, one time, Stu had tossed Tom's ass into the cold and deep blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean, when the Quartet were locked and located on a gawd damn hot dry sandy deserted and isolated island somewhere lost within the Keys. Then Stu had jumped down and landed on top of swimming Tom, fighting with a pair of gloved fists and a set of booted feet.

Tom thought that he was gonna die that day.

These planned and executed almost-to-die exercises had forced Tom into recognizing his immediate environment surroundings inside Ward 18, including an escape path. Tom wished that Stu was with him, since that man could break out of prison cell jail in fifteen seconds flat.

However, Tom had an accomplice, tonight. It was Miss Marie to the rescue. She was good leaving the exit door slightly propped and opened with a wet washcloth. Tom could see a little bit of green money that had been folded inside the wet cloth, praising with a smile, "Good girl."

Miss Marie was smart and was going to be handsomely rewarded for saving the life of Misty Marie Mangrove, tomorrow.

Exit door of building setting

Warm temperatures and clear sky with bright stars

Tom reached and jerked the door open, exposing the moon light and ass-crawled through the door and turned, gently shutting the door without a sound. Tom stood with a giggle and a grin, slowly turning ground to see the tall trees, the short bushes and bright moonlight of another beautiful Florida warm evening, noting a romantic atmosphere. He missed Jane, but Jane would be his next conquest, after finding and saving Misty Marie.

Tom turned and dashed down the building, moving to the front of the hospital with a whisper and a grin. "Thomas has left the building."

Charity South Miami Hospital

Front entrance setting

5:47 p.m.

Finding a cabbie in Miami in middle of the night was not hard. Tom causally strolled on a pair of borrowed Charity Hospital rehabilitation ward sneakers from the side of the building of Charity South Miami Hospital. Since he appeared like a regular citizen, wearing a baby blue jogging suit, without an embossed Charity Hospital Logo or a set of flashy red words on back spine on the jacket that would identify him as a former and jailed rehabilitation crazy mental patient. He moved toward a line of yellow colored taxi cabs, waiting for a paying prey. Tom stopped and stood, knocking on the tin roof of the last taxi cab in the vertical line, reached down and grabbed the door handle, sliding into the rear seat. He leaned over and handed the borrowed money of Marie to the driver with a smile and a nod. "Coral Beach, please."

6:03 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Street intersection of Sunset Boulevard and Coral Avenue

City street sidewalk setting

Waning moon with clear sky and bright stars

The resourceful taxi cab driver stopped the taxi cab and dropped Tom a city block before the Coral Beach first sentry gate that showed a pair of sentry guards.

Tom nodded with a smile, exiting the cab and stood on the street corner, watching the taxi cab drive away in the darkness, since Sawyer also knew of too many sneaking hot spots that led into the exclusive privately owned billionaire Coral Beach estates that Stu had not plugged yet.

Stu was going to shit inside his pink tinted panties, when Tom eventually tattled about a new loop ass-hole in Gage's tough impenetrable three-million-dollar home non-invasion security system. The loop ass-hole was located within the dual crossed wired fence line over the sand, a two-foot doggy digging sandy hole which was probably dug by a wild-ass opossum or another native Floridian creature that was searching for food or maybe a neighborhood dog playing for fun that will annoy Stu and Stu's expensive security system.

Tom turned with a giggle and a grin and dashed into the thick set off Florida scrub brushes within the darkness of the night, falling down over his kneecaps, crawling over the soft toward the new hole and squatted in front of the semi-hole. He dug with two hands deep into the soft golden sand, quickly expanding both bigger and better vertical and horizontal slot for his long slinky body.

Tom landed flat on the sand with a giggle and slithered a slender body underneath the sandy hole with a grunt and sat on top of his kneecaps and his palms, slowly standing for victory with a grin without raising his arms. He turned and ran to the closest mansion over the golden sand, some of bluish-green salt water, and the manicured green lawn.

The intense jogging exercise was burning off some of penned up rage and nervous energy, since Tom was in great shape, missing Quartet action for three days, not even an entire week.

The palace of Frank was dark like a spooky house from the look of the outside windows with a set of closed drapes, but the manor of Gage was brightened and lighted up like a Fourth of July firecracker. Gracie and Stu were home together. Stu would listen to Tom first and then shoot his Ghost second.

Austin would be in a pissed off mood, since the mighty boss man had failed his Quartet family, so he would shoot first and then asked the questions never. However, the place of man-whore Austin was totally dark, since he was not fucking a pretty babe.

Tom eliminated his own private home, desiring not to encounter his wife Jane, since she would be upset and would shoot him first with her lady Ghost. He didn't have time right now to console and comfort her, maybe later after Misty Marie's rescue.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Stu and Gracie

2nd floor guest bedroom setting

Tom folded a body, running down along the wall of the rear porch but not before striping off the copper wirings inside the security panel, disarming the house alarm to the mighty Gage mansion.

"Strike one!" Tom sniggered with a grin, since Stu would be highly pissed right up into the clouds. Once, he learned on Tom's sneaky entrance into his private sanctuary. Stu insisted way too much that brothers learn to disarm alarms, bombs, computers, and other shitty objects. Tom didn't think much of the lecture, being told what to do, so he could leave the training without getting the shit beat of his body by Stu, the war butthole god.

So, Tom had learned, too good.

Tom crouched down into a folded body and tip toed in a pair of soft flexible cloth sneakers without being seen through the windows, moving around the tall potted flora flowers, the tall green bushes, and the taller Banyan trees and stopped and stood, reaching up and climbed one of the sturdy and beautiful flowering towers of pretty flora that went up to the second floor balcony with a snigger and a new set of fresh cuts on his hands and arms. He tumbled over the smooth wooden railing and landed on his kneecaps, crawling over the smooth concrete to the door and stayed in crouched pose, listening with his eardrums.

No sound.

He slowly lifted his skull to see with his eyeballs.

Clear.

He reached up and stabbed the door lock using the personal grooming kit, compliments of Charity South Miami Hospital rehabilitation ward, with a pair of tiny silver-tinted tweezers and twisted. He whispered for his eardrums, only, "Strike two!"

The outside pretty door latch was beauty, not security.

The door opened inwardly.

Tom crawled forward into the bedroom on fours, his palms and his kneecaps through a quiet and empty bedroom setting on the second flooring.

The bedroom was decorated in a scene of brown, black and gray colored wild-ass horses, Gracie's touch. A queen-sized sleigh bed housed a satin chocolate colored pattern of horses over the bedspread, the toss blanket, the bed sheets, three pillows, the duvets, and three shams. Brass and wood statues of horses were rearing, grazing, trotting, and peeing in graceful form.

Tom moved on fours across the thick carpet and stopped, reaching up and touched the door knob, cracking the door open, listening with his eardrums.

There was no sound inside the darken hallway.

His eyeballs darted side to side.

There was no movement inside the darken hallway either.

He stood like man and exited through the archway from the horsey bedroom. "Shit." He fell and dropped down to thick carpet, hearing nothing but saw the figures.

On each side of the hallway, there was a set of life-size oil painted portraits of the entire Gage family. Each oil portrait measured five feet or more in physical height of the individual of the Gage clan, appearing with facial personality and body-like stillness.

Stu called his home a green house. However, inside the interior portion of the mansion, it did not look green but more like a set of pretty pastel colors. The colors appeared like several two-year-old cute toddlers had drew with a set of two fingers and one thumb on sheets of white paper in the hues of yellow, orange, tan, and white. Gracie had decorated the interior of the mansion without a professional designer helper.

Tom would not have allowed that to happen to his royal palace, but Tom was not Stu. And Tom was not married to forest nutty fitness girl Gracie Jean Gage, either.

Gracie called the furnishing style inside their home eclecticism.

Tom didn't have a naming style for furniture. It was sitting and functional furniture.

The only fun room inside Stu's house was the man cave which included a billiards table, a craps table, a roulette wheel, a twelve-man mahogany and walnut game table and a matching armoire. The game table was equipped with a set of poker dice, chips, a deck of cards, a stack of upright dominoes, a chest of checkers and a jackpot of real money that was hidden inside a locked wall safe. The game board was set up at twenty fours and seven days per week for playing chess, checkers, backgammon, dominoes, or poker, anytime of day or night, if you could find Stu.

The mansion roof of the Gage mansion was covered in plots of real imported green grass plus an array of planted flora flowers, since the house slaves replanted the flora flowers and mowed the growing grass on the rooftop for designated the green house maintenance plan.

A long time ago, an aristocratic-fake Franklin said with a smile and a nod about his personal home to each brother. "I add history to my palace."

Yeah man! Real life Earth history was running wildly abundantly throughout the Mangrove Castle, since the Mangrove palace was stocked up like a smelly old highway antique store with sets of eighteenth and nineteenth century polished commodes (a table, not a toilet) of French chic and curvy commodes and real shitting commodes inside each bathroom. There was an uncomfy contemporary sofa covered in red linen velvet beside the commode, the table, not the toilet that you could not sat upon it never per Frank.

A single Lyonnais armoire towered at twelve feet high and held more antique junk. Some of the antique and ancient furniture items included an original Louis XIV marquetry three-drawer clothing chest, lots of travertine marble fireplaces, walls of dark colored oak paneling, an array of parquet walking floors, numerous Oriental rugs and Persian carpets, and a set of lead-frames of older English landscape pictures.

An English mahogany drop leaf table stood on a set of porcelain casters. Some of the other unique house furnishings included a cascade of crystal chandeliers, a low-slung Italian chair that was upholstered in slate-blue satin, a wild colored Wedgewood ceramic teapot and teacup collection that could not be drank from either.

There were hanging plumes of rosette colorful curtains, tons of tasseled colorful pillows over each furniture piece, a set of crystal cut embellishments of tiny glass items inside all the book cases, tons of ornate brocade furniture skirts that decorated every chair, sofa, and loveseat. There were chunky and colorful glass ornaments that spilled inside every tiny compartment inside the built-in wooden shelving all around Frank's palace.

Tom suspected that every corner, nook, and niche inside Frank's mansion was filled with something old, smelly, and expensive.

There were a set of nice family photographs on the walls, the furniture desks, and the side tables with an old steel wall safe inside the den space that was came from Marseilles, Frances. There were three glittering gilt mirrors inside the foyer space, a set of real shiny medieval knights in steel armor inside the entrance hallway, and a pair of wrought-iron gates that protected Frank and Misty from a set of invisible invaders that might run across the yellow colored cobblestone driveway without tripping down and busting out a front tooth.

A weathered garden bird washing dish statue that hailed from the foreign country of Italy plus a lily pond was complete with an assortment of burping and shitting brown toads and green frogs.

The gemologist Frank and his vintage estate jewelry held silver, gold, and one-of-a-kind jewelry from crystals, precious, and semi-precious stones of turquoise and coral from the country of India. Wood and bone headdresses came from the country of Africa. All the jewelry items were presented in the form of thin or chunky wrist and ankle bracelets, necklaces, chokers, earrings, and ceremonial diamond tiaras. There were eastern culture and western civilization encrusted killing swords and playing musical instruments that were embedded with tone of real stone gems, signifying a royal birth or a spiritual power or something stupid, to Tom.

The entire gem and jewelry room was worth millions upon millions of US American dollars.

Austin called his home a starter castle, since his palace was the smallest mansion. The place rose up three stories with an open foyer, leading into a Florida room which was a tall, wide, bright, light, airy space with six sky lights that were bolted and blended into the arched ceiling.

The Florida room revealed a series of hot baking Florida sunshine, bouncing the heat down onto two sofas, three chaise lounge chairs, four sitting chairs, six side tables, a billiards table, a wet bar, a small library, and three sets of French doors that led out and into the greenish-blue Atlantic Ocean. There was an attached three-car garage, holding a lonely two-seater sports car.

The kitchen was decorated in a set of dull gray and white granite countertops, matching a set of duller dark gray stainless steel appliances that was rarely used.

Since man-whore Austin ate out breakfast, lunch, and dinner with a different pretty whore, every night. There are six bedrooms without a private balcony on the eastern side of the mansion, looking over the golden sand and a red sunrise. And there was a helicopter pad without a helicopter on top of the flat roof tiles, since Austin did not fly or pilot a helicopter.

The grandest of the Quartet castles, decorating with more luxury, more bedrooms, higher ceilings, more elaborate master bedrooms, a bigger kitchen, more sand and ocean, was Tom's.

The palace on Tom and his wife Jane was perched at the end point of Coral Avenue with a panoramic view of the north, the east, and the south ends of the Atlantic Ocean bluish-green salt waters.

There were four master bedrooms, boasting a sitting room, a spa bathroom, and a clothing room with a ceiling height of thirteen feet as a set of sun solar panels gathered and caught the hot and heated Florida rays.

There were no walls between a dining room and a living space with a set of recessed overhead lighting, when needed. A buttery yellow paint colored all the upstairs walls with a golden honey covered the downstairs walls along the golden specked white marble flooring.

Tom did not own a fireplace like Frank and Stu, since the Florida weather was too hot already.

Technology made a home, a home, not a stone fireplace.

The state-of-the-art toys ran the entire homestead on Tom's castle from the remote control air conditioning system to the remote control movie and music player.

There was white kitchen cabinetry that complimented the black granite countertops and a series of white glazed upper dish shelving.

Each bedroom hosted a spa bathroom, featuring a center stage soaker tub that was perched on top of a wooden plank floor which was next door to a separate glass-enclosed upright body shower stall with a real rain shower faucet that appeared in soft sandy beige pink hues beside a set of overcrowded potted mini royal palms. Each bathroom steered and stirred your mind while soaking your naked body inside an isolated topical heated isle.

Yeah, that image was inside Tom's mental brain cells always.

Tom stayed on his kneecaps, listening with a set of eardrum, smelling with a set of nostrils, and seeing with a set of eyeballs.

There was no movement inside the dark hallway.

He slowly stood like man, strolling down an empty hallway, meeting a new scene on each side wall of pretty painted portraits of dogs.

Dogginess pulsated in both dark and light colors on the stark white walls, featuring a set of pampered pets in life size paintings too. There was an array of colors and breeds of dogs, such like, Newfoundland hounds, Labrador retrievers, King Charles' spaniels, Yorkie terriers, German shepherds, Scotties, schnauzers, greyhounds, poodles, dachshunds, and bichon frice. This was Gracie's touch.

Then a lonely side wall showed the sharper fanged canines that were engaged in a deadly combat with wolves, bold lions, and growling bears, o mine. This was Gage's toughness of wall paint.

The long side of wall of fanged wild dogs stood beside an open staircase that led down into the Florida room. The Florida room was an open space with a set of high ceilings and lots of sky light, towering from the fourth level down to the ground floor that contained the living room, the dining room, and the sun room, all rolled into one.

Tom stopped and dropped down a folded body, hiding behind the wooden railing of the staircase, listening with a set of eardrum, smelling with a set of inflamed nostrils. The odor smelled like pine trees and a batch of good homemade cooking.

Stu and Gracie enjoyed cooking, running marathons, and doing nature stuff together.

Tom's mouth watered from the smell of good food. Tom had enjoyed the pancakes, the buttery grits, the glorious sweet rolls, and the bottomless pot of hot fresh coffee for breakfast at the Charity South Miami Hospital Rehabilitation Center, this morning.

The medical rehabilitation staff had served a dinner platter of broiled fresh trout, yellow rice, hot red and green tomato salad with fried okra, and juicy bits of yellow corn. Dessert was sunshine buttery coated cupcakes dusted with dark chocolate sprinkles, where Tom ate and chewed every morsel.

Sawyer was hungry again, since stress always made him hungrier, feeling his stomach growl.

"Frank, I made your favorite dish, spaghetti with meat balls. It's looks so yummy for your tummy." Gracie moved and stopped, standing and placing a tray of food in front of Frank, who sat on the long sofa with a red swollen face without moving or speaking. He was not responding very well to the delicious food or the dumb joke.

Tom shook a head of blonde ratty hair, spying between the wood railings at the depressing scene inside the room.

Frank looked like he had a fossilized corncob up his butthole, sitting upright on top of the mint green tinted sofa beside a spoon-waving feeding Gracie. He looked tired and worn like an old rubber garden hose, lacking sleep and food for a couple of days, staring with a pair of eyelids at a tray of good smelling food. He did not move or talk, barely breathing.

Tom whispered for his eardrums only, "Told ya. Frank's a basket case. His compassion needs to be seriously downgraded to dull consideration. Thus, he would eliminate all the excess emotions of confusion, remorse, suffering, and guilt like a fucking soulless lawyer. I will be giving Franklin some lessons in dark compassion after this mess is over."

"Frank, sweetheart," Jane said in her sweet alto, hiding her body underneath the stairwell.

"Jane's here," Tom moaned with love, "Gawd, I miss her, so much. I want to jump down and kiss her. Hell, I want to fuck her. She's still my wife. The divorce papers aren't signed yet. No, settle down, boy. Tough it out. Save Misty first. She needs help."

"You need to eat, sweetheart. You're so skinny and pale." Jane moved out from underneath the stairwell and stopped, sitting on the other side of sofa next to comatose Frank and reached out, touching his collar bone with a worried brow of sisterly love. "You're going to look like Tom, tall, skinny, only if you had blonde..." She stood and moved ahead, stopping in front of the long food table, reaching and grabbed, lifting and sobbing into a clean cloth napkin with a set of new wet hot tears of sadness.

"Frank, we'll leave the food. Please try to eat something. Stu'll be really pissed, if you don't." Gracie exhaled with a puff of worry and frustration, turning and moved to the back spine on Janey and stopped, leaning into the cheekbone of Janey with a worried brow. "Janey, let's get some beverage drinks for us over at the beverage bar, okay?" She reached and hugged Janey, turning them and moved to the beverage bar and stopped, standing in front of the counter, moving out of the hearing range of Frank in the direction on Tom. The beverage bar station was located below the stairwell, where Tom was hiding and spying at the action.

"Shit!" Tom dropped down to the polished wooden floor, resting on his stomach, spying between the slanted wooden railings to see and to hear the private conversation of Jane and Gracie.

"Janey, are you All right, girlfriend?" Gracie still hugged her Quartet sister with worry, pulling back with a worried brow.

"I miss Tom," Jane sobbed into the napkin with her real tears, "Miss him, so much. Worried about him...in...in..."

"The rehab ward at Charity Hospital, why don't you visit him, sister?" Gracie frowned.

"I can't, I mean, I want to. What to say or do? Start crying. Wrong. So wrong. Angry. Lost the baby, our baby. Gawd, so sad. Gawd, lost his job. Angry, quitting the company. Gawd, had the right. I leased all my fury on my pumpkin butt. I was wrong. I love him, so much, Gracie." Jane sobbed with her tears into the napkin.

"So that's why you haven't signed the papers?" Gracie smiled with a nod.

"Yes," She sobbed and nodded her red curls, "What to do, Gracie?"

Gracie hugged Jane and pulled back with a smile and a nod, "First, Tom is safe. My information tells me that he's doing fine, entertaining the troops, so I hear." Jane nodded with a smile.

Tom whispered for his eardrums only with a sour frown. "What the fuck? Austin has people spying on me inside the rehab ward, that gawd damn son of a bitch," softly growling with fury.

"Tom is safe," Jane nodded with her sniffs and tears of sadness.

"Second, we have to be strong for Frank. He's devastated with Misty's kidnapping. You're a rock, Janey. You're strong, tough, and positive. Frank needs you, as well as, I do for Misty and the band of brothers. Stu and Austin will find Misty. They just need more time." Gracie nodded with a smile.

Jane wiped the flooding tears from a red face, nodding with a face of sadness. "I'm sorry, Gracie. It's just when I hear Tom's name, I go to pieces."

Gracie hugged Janey again and pulled back with a smile. "It's okay, girlfriend. Tom and you will be back together. We'll get Frank to release him. Stu and Austin will find Misty. We'll be one big happy family again, very soon."

Jane nodded with a grin of positive attitude, "Damn right, you're right. I feel much better. Thank you, girlfriend."

"That's what sisters are for," Gracie smiled to her Quartet sister.

Jane wiped the tears from a read face and gasped with a smile. "I have an idea on how to get Frank to eat. We'll use Libby."

"Who's Libby?" Gracie frowned.

Jane smiled. "Libby is my head maid's cute little girl. She loves to eat, especially spaghetti. I'll bring her back here. Frank would not refuse food with a child around."

"You go girl! The brains of the Band of Sisters, you're smart, girlfriend." Gracie nodded with a smile.

Jane smiled. "I'll be back, soonest. Place two desserts, as well as, a glass of milk and a dish ice cream for both Frank and Libby. They both are going to get a nice treat, as well as, a tummy ache but only for a good cause." She jogged ahead to the closed door.

The door opened and closed.

Tom sniggered with a whisper of happy love. "Jane's smart, really smart and compassionate. She doesn't want the divorce. She goes to pieces with the sound of his name. Gawd, I'm so happy. I wanna fuck her, now. No, not now, find Austin and Stu and then Misty, soonest." He back crawled from the banister into the dark hallway and stood, dashing down an empty and dark hallway and back into the room of horses, climbing down the flower railing for his home with a grin and a giggle.

7:06 p.m.

Home of Jane and Tom

Front lawn of manicured green tall bushes setting

Warm temperatures with bright stars

Tom impatiently waited as a folded body that was hidden behind a batch of green prickly plant bushes for Jane to leave with the little girl Libby for Frank's surprise food party. Holy shit, the house servants were home at their house.

Yesterday, he was a fucking lord of the castle.

Tomorrow, he was giving the servants both nights and days off, the whole fucking lot, since Tom could not enter his own fucking castle, without speaking a word to one or more to the house staff.

Tom needed his car. Okay, he had crashed his car. He would use Jane's car. The car keys were inside the key room which was inside the hallway between the kitchen and the garage.

Okay, he lived here, owning the damn place and paid for that damn castle too.

Tom stood upright from the green plants like a man, bushing the bugs and sandy shit off his borrowed Charity Hospital clothes, walking like a man toward the front door and stopped, standing in front of the door and reached out and turned the door knob with a soft curse. "Locked, holy fucking shit, the gawd damn front door is locked. Whose stupid rule?" He snickered with a smile and a whisper, "Mine." Another change in the home procedure started right now, unlock all the damned doors for a fire, an escape, or a car stealing.

Tom turned with a chuckle and strolled on a pair of the borrowed Charity Hospital sneakers around his fucking paid manor, surveying a set of locked windows, an array of closed curtains, and all the second story empty balconies without a set of servants. The ocean coastline was clear of servants and stinky fish.

He rounded back to the front door entrance of shiny glass and nice wood. Nice doors. Locked doors. Tom moaned with a sissy tenor, "Shit, no choice." He reached and rung the doorbell with a dirty index finger on his multi-million-dollar mansion, since he did not have a fucking door key.

Two seconds later, the right side of the double doors popped open.

"May I help you?" The house butler was dressed in a sharp formal black suit and a white bow tie, asking the required question but did not recognizes a fat, un-groomed, and shaggy blonde headed Tom.

"Gilbert, it's me, Tom." He scooted around the butler with a smile, moving through the foyer toward the hallway to the kitchen.

"Mr. Sawyer!?" Gilbert turned and trailed behind the back spine on Tom.

"Yeah, me, Tom, I may appear a little rough, toughing it with the boys, ya know. I need to get inside and grab my car." Tom smiled and rushed down the well-lighted hallway toward the key room.

"Sir, do I draw your bath? Or do you need fresh garments? Or?" Gilbert frowned.

Tom spun around and stopped inside the hallway with a smile and a nod to the butler. "Gilbert, dude, lookie, take the rest of the night off. Go and have some fun, play pool, go to some bars, or maybe the public library."

"Sir, I'm required..."

"Not anymore, go home! Ya own a house, right?" Tom frowned.

"Yes, sir, I do." Gilbert nodded with his South Florida gentleman manners.

"Goody. Looky, drop the sir, too. My name's Tom. My wife's Jane. Ya know, plain Tom and Jane." Tom pivoted and rushed into the key room, wasting too much precious tick-tock time to save Misty.

"Yes, sir...uh...Tom," Gilbert moved and trailed behind the back spine on Tom.

"Good, you got it. Go home. Leave a note for Jane. Gone, see you tomorrow or something like that, okay?" Tom dashed and turned, stopping and standing inside the key room and viewed the wall of keys with a grin. He reached and selected a new pair of keys for his new sports car, his favorite car to drive. Jane was so sweet to buy Tom a replacement car before he graduated his rehabilitation class. He did not own a parking lot of car vehicles like some of Hollywood movies stars. Tom rode inside his personal limousine for a business meeting or a social event or with his brothers. But he really preferred driving his person around the city streets of Miami.

Gilbert moved and stood inside the hallway near the opening of the key room with a confused brow. "Okay, sir, Tom."

"Good, man!" Tom jiggled the new set of keys, turning and dashed from the key room and slammed open the garage door, pacing to his new sports car with a grin and a giggle.

The door opened.

He slid an ass into the new cool beige leather seat, igniting the cold engines, revving the gasoline pedal for drama.

Gilbert moved forward and stood inside the archway, watching Tom steal the new sports car.

Sports car ride on Tom north on LeJeune Road

Warm temperatures with clear sky and bright stars

Tom slammed the garage opener. The garage door smoothly lifted and glided up into the air, locking in place. The engine roared out from the smooth floor of the garage with a smooth purr. Tom raced down the private driveway and turned the sharp corner, skidding both the rear tires with a giggle and a grin, hitting the gasoline pedal, speeding down the middle lane of Coral Avenue from his house toward the second sentry gate.

The gate guards had learned to listen and watch for the irrational driving behavior of Sawyer all day and night and opened the second sentry gate before an anticipated car accident from Tom.

Tom barely slowed the new sports car like usual, rolling down the window, tossing an arm into the wind like usual, passing the second sentry gate with a shout and a smile. "Thanks, guys."

He pressed the gasoline pedal for more speed toward the first sentry gate, seeing the opening too, tossing an arm into the wind like usual, flying through the gates, shouting with a smile, "Later, gator."

Tom cleared both sentry gates and the end road of Coral Lane, steering the wheel to the right without stopping for cars, flying dangerously around the traffic circle of Cartagena Plaza, driving due north on LeJeune Road. He sped down inside the correct lane, since it was early evening. There were other car drivers on the roadway on Wednesday evening, going shopping, dining, or having some nightly fun.

But not Tom, the car rode and stopped at the traffic light of US Highway One. Tom banged his palms over the new steering wheel with excitement and nervousness, whispering with a nod, "Austin and Stu are at the office. The only place left for planning, strategizing, and sweating about Misty Marie."

7:30 p.m.

City of Coral Gables

Quartet Associates headquarters (five miles west of Coral Beach)

Conference room setting

Waning gibbous moon and warm temperatures with bright stars

The good news was Misty had been found, while the bad news was the palace was isolated, private, and guarded.

Tom ran the yellow traffic light at the intersection of US Highway One and sped down LeJeune Road, watching for any Coral Gables police patrols. "Damn."

Austin didn't joke about auditing Tom and Tom's sports car as a Coral Gables police car followed Tom for one week, seven mornings, seven afternoons, and seven evenings. Sawyer had collected five speeding citations, six illegal passing infractions, and three road noise violation illegal driving tickets by the third day until he learned his lesson, very slowly. Follow the speed limit, no crossing resident streets as a cut through, and stop gunning the sports car at a red traffic light.

Tom cursed inside his new sports car, "Damn, Austin, I'll get him back for that maneuver, some day but not today."

Tom played hard ball in court for three days straight, trying to get out the Coral Gables traffic violations, but the traffic judge tossed, beat, and slammed the entire fifty-six pages of the DOT notebook at him. Tom had to serve four hours for each traffic violation, making for fifty-two hours of personal community service in additional to the huge monetary money fines like a Hollywood movie star.

"Damn the fucking young starlets of Hollywood! They racked up traffic charges like a milking a damn cow. I'm a celebrity in Miami. Why can't people obey the law like me?" Tom stomped the brakes at the traffic intersection of LeJeune Road and Coral Way, turning to the right and then speeding down the roadway to the work office.

The Quartet Associates skyscraper was lighted and powered like a gawd damn Christmas tree, since Stu, Austin, almost all of the QA teams, and all the support QA staffer were looking, searching and worrying about Misty Marie. Tom slowed and parked his new car along the city street with the other vehicles, reaching and donned the stupid white tinted letter on the 'qa' baseball cap that tender-hearted Frank had ordered.

Austin, Stu, and Tom had secretly voted for the impressive sex symbol of a faint outlined sexy girl with the breast size 36DDs, sitting sideways inside the rear window of most pickup trucks rather than family sedans on the front of the new Quartet baseball caps, but chicken shit Gage didn't want to use a hairy ball to bang on Mangrove's super inflated ego.

So, the Quartet received a set of sissy girly female-looking baseball caps.

Tom slid out the door and purposefully left the car door unlocked and the key inside the engine ignition, challenging in a bold tenor timber with a laugh, "I dare anyone to steal my fucking new car. The entire army of QA is here, tonight." Tom turned and jogged down the well-lighted city street of Miracle Mile, moving ahead toward a set of well-lighted glass doors on the entrance side of Quartet Associates. He stopped and stood, pulling on the entrance door open with a gasp. "Shit, it is open. They are searching for Misty and pissed off at the world. I'd not come here unarmed." Tom marched into the crowded lobby with a smile and a laugh.

Austin had an open door policy literally; since he never locked the front door even inside his own mansion which was located on Coral Avenue inside the tiny beach city of Coral Beach. Badass Berrington did not carry a mobile telephone, a briefcase, a tape recorder, or an ink pen, but his Ghost.

"Enter unannounced then you die, a pretty simple policy," Tom whispered with a nod, "Yeah, I'm going to adopt that policy, too." He moved through the crowded lobby, tossing a hand to the busy QA guards. They simply believed that Tom was one of many other QA males and females that were assigned for the search and rescue mission to find Misty.

Stu had recruited all the English and foreign-speaking QA guards from their native foreign countries of Spain, France, Italy, Germany, and Great Britain to assist with the search. Tom recognized the slightly different QA uniforms and heard the slightly odd tongues, but all were brandied as "Quartet Assholes."

Tom laughed, "I'm the biggest Quartet Asshole, tonight." He rushed into the open carriage, pivoting and watched the elevator carriage crowd up fast, since he didn't feel like climbing the secret and private staircase of thirty-three flights of numerous foot steps up and into the private and secured Quartet executive suites.

No one was stopping him yet as the elevator swiftly climbed up to the thirty third floor level without one single QA guard.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened.

Tom exited the elevator alone with a sissy moan. "Damn, the reception lobby is both dirty and trashed with guns, backpacks, food, maps, papers, and body gear. Tom turned and side stepped over the mess and stopped, standing inside the open archway of Austin's office, seeing an empty office.

"Not there," Tom whispered for his eardrums only, since he might get shot for shouting. He spun around with a smile and jogged down a messy hallway to his private Quartet office and stopped, standing and turned the door knob with a curse. "Locked, damn, forget it! Not employed here anymore." Tom back stepped and turned, dashing to the Frank's private office door and turned the door knob with a curse. "Locked, holy crap, well, I don't feel so bad, now. Mangrove ain't working, either."

Tom slowly moved ahead and strolled to the open door of Stu's office, stopping and eye gleamed a land mine that had explosion within the beige colored walls. Guns, gear, backpacks, clothes, shoes, notebooks, maps, white boards, computers, and telephone landlines were scattered and splattered against the walls, the floor, and the furniture, covering the office desk, the conference room table and the chairs, and both the twin sofas like a storage room rather than a command center.

"So, the real Command Center is in the conference room, the really big one." Tom nodded with a smile.

The Quartet Tower was a skyscraper building with a set of four conference rooms on the thirty-three floors. The conference rooms were sized from small, medium, large to an extra-large one which was never used.

Tom turned and jogged down the messy hallway, wasting enough time for the rescue but had discovered a secret. Jane really cared and loved her pumpkin butt. Well, Jane was going to get a great fuck, tonight, slamming open the closed door and strutted and stopped, standing in the middle of extra-large conference room with a curse, "Empty, fuck!"

"Don't move, asshole," a deep timber voiced with a dark murderous intent as Tom slowly lifted and raised a pair of two dirty hands inside a pair of baby blue sleeved arms in the air, swiftly recognizing the angry, surprised, and non-compromising baritone of Austin. He slowly turned around to face Austin with a grin and a giggle, showing off his new shaggy blonde hair and facial cat whiskers.

Austin jerked the Ghost up to the ceiling with a sour frown. "Shit, I almost blew your fucking head off, Tom." He pressed the safety on and dropped, harnessing the weapon back into a utility vest at the left shoulder.

"Thomas!" Stu entered the room with a smile and a yell of excitement, carrying an armful of maps and colored papers in both hands, stopping and spread the items across the conference table. "They let you out?"

"Hell no, Frank has to sign for his release." Austin moved and stopped, standing and staring down at the maps over the table with a stern face without acknowledging Tom.

"Frank is..." Stu stood beside Austin and stared at Tom at edge of the conference table as Austin studied the maps in silence.

"...isn't in that frame of mind," Tom nodded with a smile.

"God Almighty, you have escaped, son." Stu clapped with a nod and a grin at Tom's amazing feat.

"From Charity..." Austin huffed in frustration without uncovering a single clue of Misty's secret location.

"Shit, they're looking for you, boy." Stu smiled and stared at hospital fugitive Tom.

"Leave, Tom. We don't have time for your fucking games." Austin turned and stared at the new set of colorful papers. "Turn yourself back into rehab. I'll get Frank to release you, tomorrow."

Tom did not move, answer, or insult, since Austin meant business. Stu was armed with a rifle across a left shoulder as both the guys stopped talking to him, because Tom was not part of the Quartet, anymore. He quit his family unit, making the appearance on Tom cause more stress and angry among the remaining Quartet members.

Austin and Stu did not want to explain the new investigation either, since Tom also had quit the business. He was not technically employed by Quartet Associates. However, they didn't understand Tom's reasons for being here as they were worried about Misty Marie.

Tom had a batch of secrets, dropping down both his arms and slapped his legs, removing the paper notes from the pocket of his pants and reached, handing the tiny slips of folded papers to Austin, the closest Quartet to him.

Austin stood upright and turned, snatching the pre-offered papers with a huff and silently read each paper with a sneer, since both brothers were tired, drained, malnourished, smelly, and damn mean. They could kill and eat two wild-ass Florida alligators for dinner tonight. Austin gasped. "How in the fucking hell?"

"The cleaning lady at Charity South Miami Hospital also cleans the palace of Hera on Marathon Key. She has befriended Misty. And Misty gave her the paper notes. The cleaning lady, whose name is Marie also, thought that I was Frank," Tom smiled with a nod.

Austin turned and frowned at Tom. "Damn it to hell, Misty has been kidnapped by Hera, that fucking bitch," sneering.

"Fucking dead bitch." Stu growled with a nod to Austin.

"Get Frank and get going to save Misty." Tom nodded with a smile.

"No." Austin frowned.

"Yes." Tom nodded to Austin.

"No." Austin frowned.

"Frank needs to come. He'll personal strangle the bitch. It's his right." Stu nodded with Tom to Austin.

"I agree with Stu, Old Man." Tom nodded.

Austin exhaled with brotherly concern. "Damn it to hell, Frank's not in shape..."

"Know that. Saw him," Tom nodded with a smile.

Stu exhaled with a sour frown at Sawyer. "What the fuck does that mean, Tom? You saw him. Frank is located inside my house."

"Know that, too. Your three-million-dollar alarm system, it don't work, very well, Stuart. You better check it, again." Tom giggled with a grin.

Stu gasped and turned, moving toward Tom. "Fucking asshole, a thief and a drunk, I'm going to beat..."

"Enough, pups!" Austin turned with a sour frown and shoved Stu back from silly ass Tom with a stern face. "Roll out! Tell Frank and get Misty first. Her safety's paramount. No shooting. No killings. No strangling. Misty is first. Then we'll spend the rest of the evening having some good old Quartet fun. Gear up," He spun around with an evil laugh, moving and stopped, leaning down and gathering and dressed in a set of protective body gear and an array of additional guns for the torment and final death of Hera.

"Right!" Tom turned and moved to the pile of body gear and a heap of weapons, retrieving and dressed only in a body vest for protection without an array of black shiny hardware like Stu and Austin. Hera will die, while Misty will be rescued. And Tom was going home to be fucked by Jane. Then Jane would be so happy too. And Tom was happily coming back home with the Quartet, also.

Austin turned with a stern face and his new command, strutting toward the open archway. "Call the copter and the boat!"

Stu was dressed like Austin in a set of full body gear with an assortment of weapons that hung from various limbs and slowly turned with a stern face, pulling out the mobile telephone, texting the commands to the pilots of each Quartet craft and followed behind Austin. He turned and moved down the hallway to a set of private elevator on the thirty-third suite, where only the Quartet used.

Gage said. "The beach place on Marathon Key, the sea palace is isolated and private which is Hera's new haunt. I found the information inside the Florida's property computer. She owned it with dead Ned Nessle. It's big, private, and not well armed. A copter will not be shot out from the air this late evening in the night, Austin. A boat might be surrounded by a gang of hungry sharks. We made not survive the night."

Austin stopped and stood, slamming the button.

The door opened immediately, since the Quartet were the only occupants on the thirty-third floor at the moment. Austin had ordered the rest of the local and visiting QA guards to scout and scrub the city streets of Miami and the surrounding towns for any clue to Misty's location.

Austin entered the carriage with a sour frown, facing the wall and sofa without sitting inside the soft and comfy long sofa and slammed the button down to the private garage level, where a set of individual cars and a van was parked for an emergency. "We're going under the sea, brother, using my new underwater submarine. After Katt and I were trapped inside that sinkable semi-tractor trailer, I met with some genius but poor student graduate mechanical engineers. I challenged them to build me something for a search and rescue, in case that happened to happen again to anyone of us."

"Brilliant, Austin." Stu nodded with a smile at the nose profile on Austin, facing the wall too.

Austin said. "I was planning for a simple emergency. I really didn't expect beyond my fantasy dreams that we would need to use my new toy."

The elevator carriage smoothly halted. The doors opened.

Tom moved forward with a grin and a chuckle. "Great dream fantasy, Austin! Let's move before we run into sunlight, brothers." He jogged over the hard concrete to his personal sports car, scanning the ray of moonlight on the trees and the manicured lawn of Quartet Associates and stopped, opening the door. He slid into the new leather with a giggle and a grin of a new killing by the Quartet like the good old days, cranking the cold engine and revved the horsepower for drama.

Stu turned with a stern face in silence and jogged to the sports car of Austin.

Austin opened the door.

Tom gunned the gasoline pedal, leading the two speeding cars from the underground parking garage and down the city streets, going back home toward Coral Beach. At the moment, Sawyer double dared the Coral Gable cops to try and arrest his butthole, this time, since Austin would sue the city, the judge, the police, the court system, the State of Florida, and the fucking Florida governor for interfering with the mercy rescue, after Misty Marie was safe and Hera was dead.

And Tom would ensure that Austin won it all with a laugh and a grin.

8:05 p.m.

City of Coral Beach (five miles east of Quartet Associates)

Home of Gracie and Stuart

Florida room setting

Waning gibbous moon with clear sky and bright stars

Tom squeaked the tires and parked on top of the nicely manicured lawn of Stu, arriving at the house and exited the car, jogging toward the front door first. He slammed a hand on the yellow colored wooden door that was open like Austin's manor, barging through the open archway with a smile and a shout of excitement into the Florida room, "Frank, get your ass up! We found Misty and going to get her, now."

The door slammed against the wall with a loud boom as all eyeballs turned and stared at an unkempt and smelly Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

"Tom," Jane turned and dashed with both her extended arms to Tom, sobbing with a smile. Sawyer halted in place with a smile and a nod in silence, opening both his arms, capturing and embraced his wife with love. Jane hugged and kissed his lips, leaning into his eardrum. "I love you, sweetheart." She pulled back with a smile, sobbing with set of wet hot tears of joy, not heartache.

"I love you, Jane, sweetheart." Tom leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back and caressed her lovely face with a hand and a tender smile of love.

"Misty!?" Frank leaped from the sofa, spilling the food plate onto the tray table and the floor as young girl Libby became frightened and scooted down the sofa and away from Frank.

"I'm so sorry, Jane," Tom hugged and whispered into her eardrum, "I promise to be a better husband."

She whispered. "You're the best husband a girl could have." Jane pulled back, kissing his lips with love.

"Where's Misty?" Frank turned and moved with a stern face to Tom and Jane inside the foyer.

Stu entered the room through the open door, stopping and stood in place, saying with a stern face and a nod to Frank, "Marathon, the sea castle home of Hera." He looked rough, ragged, and ready to kill somebody, holstering an array of nasty guns, two mobile telephones, and a sash of sharp knives over the utility body gear on his tallness.

"Fucking hell, that bitch has Misty Marie." Frank gasped.

Little frightened Libby leaped from the sofa and ran into the open arms of Gracie, becoming scared with the yelling of the nasty comments.

"Not for long!" Austin entered with an evil laugh and a wicked grin, standing beside Big Man.

"It's okay," Gracie knelt and wrapped her arms around Libby.

"Damn right!" Frank moved forward and stood in front of Austin and Stu with a smirk and a nod.

Austin leaned over and punched the bicep on Frank, pointing the little girl and Gracie who were near the sofa.

Frank turned with a smile and moved in silence, stopping and dropped down to his kneecaps to Grace and Libby. He leaned over and planted a light kiss on the cheekbone of Gracie for brotherly love, pulling back with a smile and a whisper. "Gracie, thank you! Both of you for babysitting me during my low..."

"That's what sisters are for." Gracie leaned over and planted a light kiss of sisterly love on the cheekbone of Frank, pulling back with a smile and a nod.

Frank leaned over and patted the soft hair of the young girl with a smile and a nod, "Libby, thank you, love! You're such as a proper lady. You and I'll have a picnic, when I return with my girl."

"Misty Marie, right?" Libby smiled without a set of front teeth, recalling the lady's name.

"I'll be back, soonest. We'll tear the walls down, tonight, Jane, sweetheart." Tom whispered into Jane's face and leaned over, kissing her lips with love again.

"Yes, love, she is named Misty Marie." Frank nodded with a smile and stood, pivoting to see his brothers and Jane, strutting to Austin and Stu and stopped with a smirk. "Ready, willing, and able to kill, sir," Frank winked to Austin and Stu. Stu laughed. Austin smiled.

Tom pulled back with a whisper and a smile. "I'll be back for you, sweetheart."

"I'll be watching and waiting for you, sweetheart." Jane leaned over and kissed his lips for the rescue mission of Misty, pulling back with a nod and smile to leave.

"Roll out!" Austin turned and moved to the open door, jogging to the cars.

Sports car ride on Tom and Frank south on Old Cutler Road

8:16 p.m.

Waning moon and cool temperatures with bright stars

Tom turned and dashed through the open door, leading his brothers to a set of two cars. He slid and slammed into the car with a giggle, moving around and opened the driver's door, sliding inside the new leather seat.

Austin followed behind Tom.

Frank followed behind Austin, scooting and dashing around Austin to the sports car on Tom and opened the passenger door, sliding inside the new leather with a smile, slamming the door shut with a chuckle. "Thomas, I do believe that you have escaped your pen."

"No thanks to you, Franklin." Tom cranked the warm engine with a sour frown and then revved the horsepower for drama.

"I am not sorry. You were out of control, Tom. Jane begged me to help you." Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

Tom slapped down on the gas pedal, turning and drove the car back down Coral Lane to the second security with a chuckle, "And you're in control, doctor. You look and smell like shit, Mangrove. How much weight have you lost?" Austin passed Tom inside the wrong land on the single roadway of Coral Lane. Tom softly cursed and pressed the gas pedal for more horsepower.

"I am not counting the weight loss. And don't worry, I can gain weight inside the nice fifty-first US State of Hawaii when I take Misty away for rest and relaxation like you did Janey." Frank turned and watched a set of red light tails burn on the rear bumper of Austin's sports car. Berrington had both the windows down as Gage leaned out the window and waved a pair of two hands at the guard sentries to open the gate for the emergency. Austin barely missed the metal on the parting gate, speeding toward the first gate.

Tom barely slammed the brake pedal, driving dangerously through the second sentry gate like Austin with a smile and a giggle. "It was paradise. We both needed the rest." He pressed the gas pedal for more horsepower, following right behind the rear bumper of Austin toward the first gate.

Frank rolled his eyeballs at the silly pair of brothers for the dangerous speeding but was not going to voice his concern while Tom was driving. He exhaled. "After this is over with..."

"In about forty-five minutes from now, man," Tom giggled with a grin, dangerously flying through the first sentry gate and over the public roadway of Sunset Drive, tailing right behind the rear bumper of Austin. He turned his sports car driving at a dangerous forty miles-per-hour around the traffic circle at the convergence of Old Cutler Road, Sunset Drive, and LeJeune Road.

Berrington almost completed the traffic circle, speeding due south down the middle of the roadway during the dark night over Old Cutler Road, performing eighty miles-per-hour or more.

Old Cutler Ridge road was an off-grid roadway of fourteen point nine miles, traveling northeast towards southwest, running south of downtown Miami. The scenic drive features over story trees, overshadowing the roadway with exotic birds and sometimes falling hard coated pieces of brown hairy coconut fruit.

Sunset Drive or Southwest 72nd Street was twelve miles of city road from southwest Miami and ended at the Cartagena Plaza, a traffic circle that converged the three roads together which is the southern tip of LeJeune Road, the northwester terminus of Old Cutler Road, and the eastern end of Sunset Drive.

The exit driveway of Coral Beach dumped a car directly into the traffic circle, where a person could turn and visit South Miami on Sunset Drive or Coconut Grove on LeJeune Road or Cutler Ridge on Old Cutler Road.

Frank turned with a sour frown to see the rear bumper of Austin's sport car that was too close for his perfect vision. Both Austin and Tom were driving the cars in the middle of the roadway of a dark night in case of hitting the slick sandy medium and spinning the car out of control with a car accident into a royal palm coconut tree. "How did you find Misty? I didn't catch the details."

"The cleaning lady had received a set of tiny hand written paper notes from Misty." Tom pressed the gas pedal with a grin, riding the tail lights of Austin's rear bumper.

"The cleaning lady!?" Frank watched the red tail lights of the Austin's car that blazed in the darkness of the night.

"She works for you part time and recognized Misty, not you," Tom drove with a smile.

"Gone to long from home," Frank lifted and brushed a hand against an unshaven face with a sigh.

"I'm giving that woman," Tom drove with a nod.

"Anything so wants," Frank nodded with a smile.

"You bet and for the rest of her life."

"I'll cover her and her family and extended family all the way to her great, great grandchildren for years to come. Don't worry. I'll take care of her, Tom." Frank nodded.

"Just checking, man," Tom laughed.

"I'm not greedy and selfish like..."

"I was, okay."

"Good to hear you say that, Thomas." Frank turned and smiled at the nose profile on Tom.

"Thanks for saving me from myself, doctor." Tom drove with a smile.

"Janey saved you. She deeply loves your skinny ass, Thomas." Frank turned and gasped at the red tail lights on Austin's car, since Tom was driving to close and unsafely in Frank's opinion.

"Know that, too." Tom drove with a smile and a nod of happiness.

"How do you know that?" Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

Tom drove with a chuckle, "I sneaked inside Stu's house and then disabled the alarm system. I sat up on the top footsteps and listened to Jane talk about me, while she and Gracie were trying to get you to eat your food like a fucking baby."

"Shit fire, no way." Frank gasped.

"Yes, way, I was there."

"Prove it." Frank frowned.

"I just told you, asswipe."

"I don't believe you, Thomas." Frank exhaled.

Tom drove with a sigh, riding the rear bumper of Austin's sports car, "Fine, it was Jane's idea to get the cute little girl that you tossed pasta on named Libby to eat dinner with you. Her favorite meal is spaghetti and ice cream," chuckling.

"Fucking thief," Frank smiled at Tom for breaking into Stu's mansion.

"No, I'm not. I fuckingly care about you, Misty, and Jane. Hell, I broke out the Ward to get you, Frank. And tell you all this VIP information." Tom drove with a smile.

"Right, buddy, you did." Frank turned with a smile and a nod to see the red tail lights of Austin's sports car, since Tom was driving too close to the rear bumper.

"Don't you forget it, either." Tom drove with a laugh and a smile, since he was not taking his eyeballs off the road or the blasting red tail lights of Austin's sports car.

"Won't dream of it, ever," Frank smiled with a nod. "Where are we going?"

"Following Austin to a submarine that he built which is somewhere in hiding."

Frank gasped. "Austin has a submarine."

"Built it for fun, survival, some bizarre thing like fucking his dates." Tom laughed.

"Lucky for Misty..."

"Lucky for us. We need some big bad magic to raid the old palace. The place is fortified like Buckingham Palace with guards, weapons, sharks, and missiles. Nessle must have left all his money assets to his bitch and better fucking girlfriend Hera." Tom drove with a sigh.

"That bitch knows what to do with them, too." Frank moaned.

"Guess what?" Tom turned and quickly glanced at the nose profile on Frank.

"What!?" Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"So, do we," Tom drove with a snorting evil laugh.

"All for one..." Frank lifted and held a fisted fist in the air as Tom quickly shifted a fist to bump it with a giggle and then slapped the hand back over the steering wheel, driving a swift dangerous speed.

"And one for all, man," Tom drove with a laugh and a nod, speeding behind Austin over a dark whining road of Florida.

City of Miami

Snapper Creek water station (5.5 miles south of Coral Beach)

8:23 p.m.

Stu yelled over the loud roaring engines at Austin. "Old Man, slow down, I wanna live to see, tomorrow."

"Almost there, Big Man, hold on to your dick!" Austin turned at the tight street curve into the Intracoastal Waterway, a sailing port of sailboats, yachts, and one underwater secretly built submarine.

Stu held the door handle with a huff of annoyance at Austin's dangerous driving skills, seeing a pair of tall figures in the far distance. The pair of figures shifted side to side in the darkness. "Are those your genius but poor engineers?"

Austin laughed. "Not poor anymore, but still genius, they are kinda of weird. Let me do all the talking."

Stu chuckled with a nod, "Your show, bro."

Austin abruptly halted the car, squeaking the rubber tires, kicking up dry sand into the air and killed the engine. He slid out the car, leaving the door open, jogging to the two nervous bodies with a stern face.

Tom stopped and pulled the vehicle beside Austin three seconds later.

Frank cracked open the door, exiting first, narrowing a pair of eyelids at Austin and the two mysterious young males.

Austin approached the geniuses with caution and stopped, standing and extended a hand with a smile and a nod, "Jonas and Frederick."

"Hey, Austin." Jonas moved forward from the dark shadow of the trees with a nod and a grin and stopped, standing and shaking a hand.

He released the hand with a nod and a grin. "Is it ready for operation, Jonas and Frederick?" Austin pointed to the baby submarine that was anchored inside the sea dock with a vertical hatch open for entrance.

"Yes, sir. She's seafaring." Frederick sniggered with a nod.

Jonas moved closer to the face of Austin with a stern face and a whisper. "Don't tell the UN. We borrowed some mechanic parts and sleek conceptual ideas from other the foreign countries."

"Our little secret," Austin reached and patted the collar bone of Jonas with a grin and a nod.

Frederick moved and stood beside Jonas with a smile and a nod. "With unlimited time and unlimited funds, we can up with unlimited capabilities of unlimited anything else you want, Mr. Berrington."

"Understood! Thanks, guys. Go home now. We never met. Okay?" Austin shoved Frederick to the side with a stern face, moving toward the baby submarine.

Fredrick ran into the side of his buddy with a chuckle, hugging his friend and turned them back to the tree line.

"Right, dude! Love this spying shit, don't you, Freddy?" Jonas moved back to the new sedan with a smile and a nod and entered the car, leaving the Snapper water station for home.

Austin turned and waved an arm for the clear signal to his brothers, swinging around, moving across the deck and climbed down into the baby submarine.

Frank, Tom, and Stu jogged toward Austin and the bay submarine in silence.

The brothers climbed into the submarine, prepping the machine to sail underneath the water.

The wind shield visibility was good. The barometer read 26.89 inches with a set of steady and calm seas. At 9:02 p.m., the silver tinted baby submarine dropped and disappeared from the walking deck at the Snapper Creek Water Station in silence.

9:03 p.m.

Submarine under the water cold and dark setting

Snapper Creek Water Station (113 miles south to Marathon)

Stu sat inside the pilot chair, steering the vessel at ninety miles-per-hour, steering through a depth of twenty feet underneath the waters of the Atlantic Ocean with a smile.

Tom stood in front of a side wall, laying out an array of weapons on top of a metal counter. He checked, cleaned the cold barrels, and reloaded each gun with ammunition.

Frank stood in the middle of the floor in front of a long table, pulling up the electronic floor plans of Hera's sea castle on Marathon onto the laptop screen.

Austin stood in the rear wall in front of an open closet, gathering wardrobe gear for his brothers.

He wore a black lightweight turtleneck underneath a bullet protective body vest, and a pair of black utility pants that were neatly tucked down into a pair of sturdy leather military boots.

Tom wore a semi-naked flat pale chest and turned with a giggle, holding a set of two rifles in each hand in the air, announcing with a silly banter. "I am Neptune, god of the salty sea."

"Shut the fuck up, Tom!" Frank reached and pulled out his Ghost, slamming the release and caught the clip of packed razors. He was deciding where to shoot Hera in the forehead, the right eyeball, the heart organ or the stomach, noting more suffering pain in the gut as a smart ass and pissed off medical physician.

Stu piloted the submarine and watched the console of sea faring instruments for any type of colorful indicator lights of trouble. "The seawater of planet Earth is one continuous mass. Two thirds of the Earth's surface is covered by seawater, making up of ninety nine percent of the entire water supply. The temperatures of seawater vary, colder at the surface in polar salinity..."

"Shut the fuck up, Stu!" Frank careered his Ghost with a sneer and a nod, deciding to shoot a razor blade in every body part of Hera from her hair roots down to ten toe nails. Then Frank will use a real bullet for the other side of Hera's uninjured body parts.

"My point, the sea is an amazing resource which has given us our rescue machinery." Stu piloted with a smile and a nod, checking all the sea faring instruments for safety too.

"A big silver twinkle cake, costing millions of US dollars underneath the salt water. Anyone can own a submarine, Stuart." Tom turned and gently dropped the rifles over the counter, swinging around and moved to the pile of body gear and dressed a semi-naked body. He slapped the metal in place over the vest and turned, moving back to the table, checking over the weapons.

Stu piloted the submarine with a smile and a nod. "The tiny black particles are found inside rocks, inside the soil, and inside deposits that are deeply underneath the sea. Titanium by the way is the fourth most common metal on planet Earth. Aluminum is first then iron and then magnesium. The compound is formed by ores called rutile and ilmenite."

"Big Man reads too much." Austin laughed with comedy relief, since every brother was very tense and strained at the moment of the upcoming rescue and kill mission of the Quartet.

Stu piloted the submarine with a smile, checking the dial and the instruments. "The black sand is made of rutile. This ore consists of titanium dioxide..."

"Gawd damn it, not fuckingly again!" Tom reached over the table and lifted up his Ghost, swinging around with a sour frown and aimed his Ghost at the rear skull of Gage with a sneer.

Austin turned and leaped through the air, hitting the rib cage of Sawyer and landed on top on Tom with a grunt, slapping the Ghost from the hands on Tom, saying with a sneer into the eardrum on Sawyer. "Watch your manners, before I whip you good, pup." He continued to rest over Tom with a set of musically grunts and growls.

Tom exhaled with penned up rage and energy inside rehabilitation ward eighteen and with excitement of the upcoming QA mission, closing his eyelids with a grunt of a brief catnap with Austin on top of his body.

"I'd whip your ass, Law Man, if I wasn't steering the here fine underwater vessel." Stu piloted with the smile of happiness that Misty had been found and her kidnapped will be dead, soonest.

"Stay put, pup." Austin sneered into the eardrum on Tom, standing and leaned down to assist Tom to stand, dragging Tom beside Frank at the center table as all three stood in front of the table, studying the laptop that showed the internal layout of the castle, the shoreline, and the ocean currents.

"Since titanium doesn't react with saltwater, the metal won't produce toxic chemicals that are harmful to fish and other marine life." Stu piloted the submarine, checking the sea faring instruments for trouble.

"Does it kill Ned's great white sharks? I don't feel like playing tag with a set of fangs." Tom exhaled with penned up rage and energy from his cage inside rehabilitation ward eighteen, looking at the laptop with a sour frown.

"All right gone, FBI Special Agent our ex-friend Phil and a boat load of Florida wildlife authorities caged up all the mammals and then air dropped them back deep into the Atlantic Ocean as their new home and away from the civilization of Miami, Florida." Stu piloted the submarine with a smile and a nod.

"How the hell do you cage a shark?" Tom leaned over with a laugh to see the nose profile on Frank. Mangrove stared at the screen of the laptop in silence. Tom whispered for his eardrums only. "Whatever!" He turned and scanned the floor, the screen, the floor, and finally the nose profile on Austin. "Where the hell is the wet suit gear, Austin? I don't drink salt water, only salty Margaritas," laughing off his penned up rage and energy from his caged rehabilitation ward number eighteen.

Stu piloted the craft with a smile. "The propellers are titanium also. Even metals that are fairly resistant to the effects of saltwater are damaged by the buffeting effects of ocean wave motion."

Austin pointed the laptop screen with a stern face. "There is no need for a set of wet suit, Tom. Stu's going to land us on top of that drain field."

Stu steered the submarine toward a set of large underwater drainage pipes. "When a propeller spins in the ocean, it heats the water around it, creating bubbles that eat away the metal which is called cavitation."

Tom exhaled with annoyance, "Shit, we're going to swim in fucking shit of from Hera's and the sharks' assholes. I definitely want a breathing mask along with a great big fucking oxygen tank. As a matter of fact, I volunteer to stay right here in this spot. I'll watch the computer monitors, protecting the sub, while you haul Misty back here for our final escape," laughing off his penned up energy from his cage at the rehabilitation ward eighteen.

Stu piloted with a smile and a nod. "The motion makes the propeller light and the submarine faster. This sub is designed to stay submerged for three years, without resurfacing. The newer titanium submarines can dive deeper..."

Austin turned and moved to the side wall, where a set of mounted and active pieces of electronic equipment and numerous colorful screen monitors stood. He stopped and stood in place, examining each screen with a stern face. "There's a shift in pressure over here, Stu. A warm water directional flow north is intersecting with southern cold waters." He reached up and pressed the dial on the radar screen, pinpointing the hot spot and transferred the information to the pilot console for Stu.

Tom moaned in a sissy tenor, "Shit."

Stu laughed. "Not shit, it is pee, warm pee to be exact, so someone just pissed inside the toilet. Lucky dogs, we get to record it on our new submarine equipment."

Tom turned with a laugh and moved, stopping and stood by Austin, staring at the screens. "Double shit and pee, Stu, you really are a gross and nasty son of bitch. Do I see a big storm fucking drain ahead? That's the thing sucking out pee and then pissing on top of us. Is there a pile of shitty ass brown turds too? I can make a holiday reef for my mom and my dad," he laughed off his penned up energy from his cage at the rehabilitation ward eighteen, wiggling side to side with nervousness.

He frowned. "Shut the fuck up, Tom!" Stu maneuvered the submarine around a set of massive underwater drainage pipes and stopped the submarine inside the shallow water, paralleling the shoreline as the submarine rose and broke the water surface inside the moonlight and bright stars of the darkness. He dropped down from the pilot chair and turned with a smile and a nod to see his brothers. "It is now time to put on your new plastic gear and waddle through the shit in silence."

The Quartet moved in the new body gear and climbed up and over a steep ladder, standing in a row on top of the submarine as all eyeballs viewed a bayou of man-made trash, brown sandy particles, and other shitty and smelly floating objects with a set of whispering curses.

Sea castle of Hera (113 miles south of Coral Beach)

10:29 p.m.

Operating room setting

Warm temperatures with clear sky and bright stars

Each fourth climbed out from the top hatchway of the mini-submarine, tumbling a pair of boot toes over a wet surface of salt water as the pair of boot heels dug deeply into soft dirty golden sandbar. Tom sniffed with a set of inflamed nostrils, saying with irritation, "Shit." He splashed a series of the nasty man-made particles over the plastic jumpsuit, protecting the gun gear and his person like his brothers.

Stu led the rescue mission, trekking toward a rusty brown steel single door entrance and stopped, standing and reached out with a gloved hand, gingerly jerking the knob open. The right hand held his Ghost for protection of him and his brothers. Gage slowly opened a crack in space, using a right eyeball for surveillance. It was an empty receiving internal space that was made of silver-tinted steel and was not affected by the man-made crap that was floating over the beach sandbar and the brownish shitty salt water underneath the inherited palace of Hera.

Stu entered first in case of a dark shadow of hidden workers or warriors for Hera, pacing a few feet into an empty room and stopped, scanning the room for trouble. Then Tom, Frank and finally Austin cleared the archway, stopping and standing behind Gage.

Each brother performed a subtle strip tease act, removing off the dirty brownish plastic oversized jumpsuit from a body, tossing the dirty clothing item down over the floor. Then each brother moved ahead into a mechanic control room of metal heaters and air conditioning equipment for keeping the palace cool throughout the year. The lower islands of the Keys averaged eighty-degree heated weather all year

Stu held his Ghost in the air inside a right shooting hand with a sharp hunting knife in the left hand as his brother copied the fighting pose of Gage. Stu motioned with the knife as it pointed up toward a narrow hallway of stairs as he was followed by Tom, Frank, and Austin in the rear.

Berrington turned with a stern face every few second while searching back over his collar bone for additional dark shadows from a worker or a warrior with a rear-end attack.

Stu stopped and hit a metal door with the tip of the hunter knife and waited, hearing the sound of rock and roll sound of music with a set of electric guitars and a set of banging drums and gingerly reached and twisted the door knob. The heavy metal door slowly swayed inward to the right and away from the body of Gage, making the air drown in loud music.

Stu cut his eyelids to the left and to the right of the inner room without seeing any movement of bodies and stomped upon the even floor into an empty hallway without a set of wall decorations or viewing windows. Gage turned to the side, following a narrow hallway that led into the kitchen space of the palace.

The kitchen was colored in red and blacks and absolutely spotless and organized, lacking any palace staff personnel since the time was late evening. Thus, the paid and working staff had been relieved of house duties and had gone home for the evening, leaving Hera alone with her sick fun with Misty Maria. Gage growled at that vile mental thought.

Gage swiftly paced across a clean red and black tile into a great room that was composed of the living room, the dining room and the sun room and stopped, standing inside an open archway, dropping an open mouth.

There were many young and mature females and males, partying in the nude. The walls contained long tables of food, alcoholic, sugary drinks, and illegally drugs. The drunk and stone naked females and males ignored the Quartet. The Quartet entered the room and stood against the far wall, staring at the party scene inside the sea castle as each one held a Ghost in the air for trouble.

Some of the younger people were chained to the wall or drugged down over the floor or sitting inside a chair with crying tears or sleeping over the furniture or eating with a set of fingers from a plate of food or drinking a glass of alcohol, but all were subdued and harmless.

Frank leaned over with a whisper into the eardrum on Tom as the closet brother. "Damn, this is the slave ring that Phil and FBI have been trying to find and locate throughout the South Florida geographical area."

Stu exhaled and ignored the silly room of females and males, scanning the room and located a narrow dark hallway that lead to a set of upstairs rooms. The sonar equipment screen inside the mini-submarine did not indicate a set of heated activity of human bodies upstairs inside the rooms, only around the ground flooring. Therefore, Hera was located somewhere on the first floor.

Stu turned and moved along the wall in silence, stomping over fallen unconscious naked bodies and stomped into the dark hallway and stopped, standing at the first closed door on the left. He reached and jerked the knob open with a left hand, holding the Ghost a waist high for a kill shot, looking inside for Misty Marie.

Tom scooted around Gage and slammed into the next closed door on the right side of the hallway, following Gage's moves. The rest of the brothers moved around Gage and examined a closed door, looking for Misty Marie.

Stu slammed the door shut with a huff of frustration, finding only empty air and space inside the dark room, moving around Austin with a grunt and opened the next door, hearing the grunts and moans of a sex act.

Frank turned and scooted around Stu with a smile at the sex action, "And here's the ring leader of the slaves."

Hera reached and shoved the young male off her naked breasts, canceling the fucking sex act as the male slid and fell off the mattress, hitting the wall with a back spine and a chuckle. The young male was not too smart, standing and leaped back onto top of naked Hera with a giggle.

Hera cleared a throat and pointed to the open archway.

The young male turned with a grin to see the Quartet and then frowned, reaching and grabbed one of the bed sheets, standing and wrapped the sheet around his private parts. He turned and moved a pair of naked feet between Frank and Stu, leaving the nasty party of guys and guns.

Hera pulled upright on her elbows, exposing a pair of naked breasts with a smile at the Quartet, who crowded around the entrance doorway. "Surprise, Franklin!"

Frank elbowed his way through the crowed doorway and stood in front of Hera, lifting and held his Ghost with a two-fisted gripe and fired two razors precisely two inches above her black shimmery hair roots with a sneer. She gasped with a sour frown. Frank turned and jerked the hunting knife from Stu, spinning around and strutted to the mattress, greatly desiring to slice her throat with a horizontal swing first. He leaped over the mattress and slammed a palm down onto her collar bone, raising the hunting knife into the air with a growl. Hera kicked and struggled without freedom as her body was wrapped and twisted between the satin bed linens. He smirked, "Good bye, bitch!"

"Frankie, no," a sweet soprano timber voiced in nervousness as Misty Marie stood between Tom and Austin.

"Misty!" Frank turned with a gasp to see Misty. She was healthy and alive as Austin moved and hugged Misty for brotherly love and protection, keeping her away from the silly drunk adults or any spying workers or warriors for Hera.

"Frankie?" Tom chuckled with a grin.

"Shut up, Tom." Stu leaned over with a sneer into the eardrum on Tom.

Frank smiled at his girl, "Misty, love, I'll be right there." He turned and snarled into the distorted face of Hera, shifting a twinkling silver tinted blade underneath a set of bright overhead lights.

"Frankie, don't!" Misty moved forward and shuffled a pair of naked feet from Austin into the cold bedroom, holding open her arms, sobbing with a face of wet hot tears, "She did something to me."

Frank slammed a knife into the wooden headboard, missing the heart of Hera, back crawling on his kneecaps and turned, dashing to Misty and hugged his wife.

Stu moved ahead and stopped, standing and leaning down and grabbed the bicep on Hera, covering her naked body with a bed linen sheet, listening to Misty's story.

Frank said, "Love, did she hurt you?"

Misty pulled back from the hug with a set of tears and sobs. "She saved the baby, Frankie. But..."

He smiled with a nod, "Misty, the baby, don't cry, love. I'm make everything fine and dandy, love. I promise with crossed hearts and stinging fingernails," He hugged her and patted her soft hair with love and protection.

"Frankie, she placed an object inside me." Misty whispered into his eardrum. "She entered..."

Frank pulled back with a worried brow and a nod in shock and horror, turning with a stern face to see Austin, sending a message of help to his brother, since the brothers knew how to read each other mind.

Austin turned and advanced Misty, quickly hugging her with brotherly love and protection.

Frank spun around with a sneer, stomping forward to Hera, "Fucking hell!" He stopped and stood at the edge of the mattress as Stu held and guarded Hera from escaping.

Frank exhaled with angry and worry. "What the gawd damn hell did you do to Misty? Answer me, bitch! Before, I cut and gut you for pieces of fresh shark bite." He reached and lifted the hunting knife from the utility vest, jerking it in the air above his skull.

Hera smirked with a laugh, staring a stupid Mangrove. "O, that! I wanted a new play mate. And Misty is it. Me and her cannot be separated, apart, divided, or sent back home to Coral Beach." She lifted a torso from the headboard of the bed with a giggle as Stu slammed a palm against her collar bone. She hit the bed frame for a second time with a sour frown, "That simple device will simply detect any absence of me, mine, and my chemical body heat and then unfortunately it will explode inside your little prettily wifey. And well then, the final finale will finish without a doubt killing Misty and Misty's unborn child."

Misty screamed in fright, crying with a set of wet hot tears into both her hands as Austin hugged her for both brotherly love and protection.

"Fucking bitch," Frank turned and frowned at each brother with a new command. "Drop all weapons, now." Austin, Stu, and Tom gently replaced each weapon back into a utility vest. Franks turned and frowned to Hera, "We obeyed. Explain to me, what you did to Misty? I'll give you anything you want, just release Misty to me."

Hera smirked with a laugh, staring at stupid Mangrove. "No."

"God Almighty!" Frank back crawled from the bed mattress and turned, dashing to Misty as Austin backed away. Frank stopped and stood, hugging Misty, whispering into her eardrum. "Misty, please tell me everything that you remember and know."

Austin turned and exited the room to accumulate more missing information, hopefully.

Misty pulled back from his hug, wiping her tears with a nod, thumbing over a collar back to the hallway. "I stayed here inside this little tiny room. Then she prickled my blood for some type of blood testing inside a little tiny laboratory. The laboratory is this way, down the hallway."

Frank turned and faced Hera with his new command. "Stu, bring the bitch."

"Move it, Mama." Stu reached and grabbed both the arms of Hera, lifting her naked body from the set of mangled bed sheets and the mattress into the air, landing her pair of naked feet on top of the hard floor. He reached and grabbed a bed sheet, wrapping her nakedness with a sneer, shoving Hear toward Frank, Misty, his brothers and the archway.

Tom side stepped and blocked the archway, extending both arms with worry, "Wait, Frank, how far apart can Misty be from that fucking bitch? We don't want to take any chances here." He turned and smiled at Misty. She sobbed with more tears of sadness and worry. Frank and Misty stopped moving as Stu moved Hera closer to the hugging couple within five feet.

Frank wrapped an arm around Misty with a smile. "Where did you sleep, Misty, inside the laboratory or inside the little room?"

Misty nodded with tears, "I stayed the entire time inside that little room on the other side of this hallway, near the potted tree plants, not inside the laboratory. She...she was with me when we both entered the laboratory for..."

Austin returned from the darkness of the hallway, standing slightly to the left on Tom, after scouting out the rooms and the laboratory and said with a stern face to Frank. "I have found both the little room and the laboratory space. The little room from the laboratory space is about twenty feet maximum in distance. So, the answer must be within twenty feet in footsteps of two bodies. Let's be very carefully and huddle like a litter of newborn puppies." Austin nodded with a stern face and back stepped from the archway, turning and dashed down the hallway to the laboratory with worry as he felt helpless and worthless to help Misty. But he believed that Frank was a genius physician and could solve the crisis.

Tom back stepped from the archway and turned, dashing behind Austin down the hallway and into the laboratory too.

Frank turned and sneered at Stu with a new command. "Keep the bitch close to Misty, Stu."

Stu looked down with a sneer at the hair roots on Hera, "Don't worry? Mama dog ain't going nowhere." He reached and grabbed her hair roots for obedience, shoving her closer to Misty for both survival and existence.

Frank, Misty, Stu, and Hera huddled and advance through the archway, turning and marched in a huddle toward the secret laboratory.

Austin slammed opened the door for a second time, standing inside the archway in silence, feeling nervous and frightened with the delicate situation.

Tom stopped and turned, standing inside the hallway, motioning to the open door of the laboratory for Frank and Stu.

Laboratory room setting of Hera

Misty entered first with Frank, Stu, and Hera, following behind. She stopped in front of a long counter with a set of various medical instruments, standing next to Frank and pointed at all the equipment with a sad face. "This is the laboratory here. And this is the piece of equipment that she used on me. She used those sharp instruments, too. And here, this is the operating table. And all her medical stuff." She sobbed and wiped the tears from her face with sadness and worry.

"A medical surgery laboratory," Frank scanned the long counter, turning and scanned the room, shaking a skull with worry.

Stu turned and glided Hera into a hard desk chair, moving and stood behind Hera, holding both his palms over her naked collar bone with a grunt from escaping the Quartet.

Frank gently turned Misty around to see her face, wiping off the tears with a smile. "Misty, love, please continue."

Misty turned and pointed to the object with her tears and a worried brow. "I laid here upon the operating table here. She told me that she was going to help the baby. My baby was in distress. She's an obstetrician and saves babies. She's my friend."

"An obstetrician does save a baby's life. She's correct. Please continue, love." Frank exhaled with a huff of concern, listening to every word with love and worry.

She turned and pointed with a worried brow to each object. "She used an instrument. That one. She placed something cold inside me..." Misty leaned into his face with a set of secret words.

He pulled back with a nod and a stern face, turning and shuffled her to the operating table. "Let me examine you, Misty." Misty turned and sobbed with her tears. He leaned down with a whisper and a hug into her face, "It's going to be okay, love. Climb onto the table for me, Misty."

Frank and Misty advanced to the naked surgery table as Tom dashed around them and stopped, standing in front of a long table, grabbing a set of blankets and two pillows. He turned around and dressed the cold steel surgical table with the soft bed linens, assisting Misty to climb over the bed sheets.

Frank spun around and moved back to the long metal counter, reaching and grabbed, donning a pair of medical gloves and a piece of lighted head gear for his forehead. He turned and moved back to the operating table as Tom back stepped from Misty. Frank reached up and pushed the cloth curtain around the operating table for privacy, rounding back into the feet of Misty. He leaned down and parted her legs, clicking on the light of the head gear, seeking the metal cold device that was probably attached into the wall of her uthrea which was placed by a competent but evil obstetrician.

Hera had killed the fetus, since no medical physician on planet Earth would ever disturb the female uthrea with a live and developing fetus inside the mom's womb. Only an evil witch doctor did that evil feat. Misty's baby was dead. Frank would inform Misty later.

Frank hissed in angry, noting that the fleshy lips of Misty's vagina had been sewn completely shut, since Hera had sealed the passage way of the vagina on Misty, so the tiny metal device would not fall out of the hole. He exhaled. "Ok, love, I am touching you." Misty giggled from the gently touch of Frank's fingers. He studied the vagina, deciding to cut away the silk tiny threads, leaning over to the side wall that contained a store of small medical equipment for the medical convenience of evil doctor Hera. He grabbed a pair of tiny sterile scissors, moving back in front of her vagina, clipping and snapped the silk threads from her pussy with a stern face, "Are you experiencing pain, love?" He replaced the tiny scissor back on the wall shelf.

Misty giggled with a grin from the gently massage of her vagina from Frank.

He gently widened the lips on her vagina while searching with a pair of medical eyeballs for any instrument cuts, scratches, or indentations and found her soft pink vaginal wall was free of instrument wounds. He entered and gently rotated his finger pads around the outer walls of the soft lips and then moved inside her vagina with the same two finger pads.

Misty giggled, feeling sexy. "O, Frankie. It feels so nice."

"Hang on, love," Frank determined that her vagina was normal, not damaged, or invaded. "Misty, love, I'm going into a probe deeper." Misty giggled. Frank pushed the same two finger pads deeper inside her vagina. He greatly desired to rip off his gear and fuck his wife at the moment too. Misty would have enjoyed the moment but not in front of his brothers. Frank erased that mental sexual act and concentrated on the current medical task, a metal device.

He did feel any wounds, markings or tears inside her vagina, thus the tiny device was not attached to the wall of her lips or inside her vagina.

He removed his fingers with a huff of worry. "Misty, love," he ripped the nasty medical gloves from both hands, dropping them down onto the floor in front of the operating table. "Sit up, please." He stood and moved, stopping and standing next to Misty, assisting her upright on top of the operating table. He leaned down and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile and a whisper to her crying face, "Tell me what else she did to you, Misty?"

Misty sobbed with a set of fresh tears of worry. "She pricked my arm with a needle. I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke, I felt different, Frankie." Frank nodded with a smile of more encouragement from Misty with all the clinical data. She sobbed with a sad face. "I vomited when I awoke from the operation, then I slept until the next day."

Frank nodded with a stern face while completely understanding in medical terms. Misty had experienced a barbaric medical abortion by Hera, since the bitch had killed baby while making Misty sick from the sleepy sedation drug.

Misty did not know, believing that her baby was still alive and viable. Hera had performed a medical D and C clinical procedure on Misty, cleaning out the female vagina of left over residual by scraping off and out the tiny tissues, tiny bones, and fresh blood of a dead fetus inside the wound of Misty.

"Damn," Frank whispered for his eardrums only, leaning down and gently kissed her lips. The fucking bitch would die both slow and painfully inside the secret underground torture laboratory of the Quartet tonight, after getting Misty safely out of Hera's palace.

Frank stood and reached up the curtain rod, turning and slid the curtains around the operating table with a worried brow, exposing misty again. She sat upright with a set of new tears of worry.

Tom quickly shuffled from the plaster wall, leaning over and hugged Misty, whispering a set of secret words into her sad face.

Stu held both palms over the naked collar bone of Hera, preventing her from escaping his griped.

Frank turned and moved, stopping and standing in front of Hera with a stern face and a serious tone, "Again, what did you do to her?"

Hera smirked with a laugh at stupid Mangrove. "Didn't find it, huh? You are the genius doctor, so the rumors go far, far away," giggling.

Stu lifted and slammed both palms onto her collar bone.

Tom back stepped and scooted around Misty with brotherly protection and love, pulling out his Ghost from the utility vest and directly pointed, aimed and targeted the black heart on Hera.

Frank turned with a gasp and a worried brow to see Tom. "No, she has to be kept alive. I need to know what she did to Misty's body. The bitch is the only one with the medical answers. I just need the medical information to be tattled to me."

"A pretty girl doesn't really need all those toes or fingers." Tom grinned with a giggle of his evil thought and shifted his Ghost down to her naked foot, left side. "Very little mess, the toes, you know, Frank?"

Hera turned and hissed at Tom.

Misty wiped off the wet hot tears, looking with a worried brow at the back spine on her husband, "Frankie love, I remembered something that she told me. I don't really understand, but it makes more sense now. She said that I must stay inside the room and not leave. The baby needed to rest, so I was to stay quiet and read and sleep, especially after the operations to save the baby's life. I did that. I obeyed. I saved the baby's live. I never left my little room, Frankie. I did what she said."

Frank could not tell Misty about the baby yet, since he had not figured what happened to her medically, yet. Only one operation was needed for a barbaric killing abortion. Frank needed more medical information to save his wife Misty. Then he would kill Hera in cold messy red blood with his two bare hands, permanently. He exhaled with a huff of determination, focusing energy and brain cells to the medical mysterious mess, saying with a firm but soft voice to her, "How many operations Misty?"

"Three, my second day, the fourth day, and yesterday," Misty wiped off the tears of worry.

Stu turned and frowned to the nose profile on Frank, "Hold on, Frank! Hera was with us at the last Charity Healthcare System super board meeting on Thursday afternoon. She left her palace and ventured into the city of Miami. Miami is over one hundred and thirteen miles from Marathon. And Misty is still alive and well. The bitch is lying, Frank." He turned and hissed at Hera with his evil thoughts too.

Misty turned and frowned to Stu. "She gave me another operation on Friday morning. I received another needle in my arm. I fall asleep. When I awoke, I was inside this operating room. I vomited. I was sick again inside my stomach. She told me the baby was giving me morning sickness. I am fine. The baby is fine. This is normal for the first tri-semester of a mommy-to-be pregnancy." She turned and smiled with a nod to her husband. "Is she correct, Frankie?"

Frank back stepped from Stu and Hera and spun around, moving forward to Misty and stopped, standing with a nod and a fake smile. He hugged and kissed her wet cheekbone with love and worry, "Yes, love, Hera is correct about having morning sickness during the first months of conceiving a fetus." He could not mention that Misty wasn't sick from carrying a child but having the child murdered inside her womb. He exhaled and inhaled with worry, faking a smile to Misty as her tears rolled down her twin apple cheekbones, "Stuart."

"Yes, Franklin." Stu reached and slammed both hands over the collar bone of Hera with a growl.

"I need answers, Stuart." Frank smiled to Misty, reaching and hugged her for a second time in love and protection.

Stu nodded with an evil grin. "Ready, Franklin!" Frank back stepped with a fake smile and swing around with a growl and a nod to Stu. Stu lifted and jerked up the right wrist of Hera into his face, spreading the five fingers apart then forcefully grabbed, squeezed, pinched and pressed her index finger between his fingers, bad breathing over her brown hair roots. "Explain the medical operation on Friday morning to Frank step by step, bitch." Hera did not talk but hissed with pain. Stu continued to squeeze her index finger with more force. Then Hera gasped and hissed again. Stu commanded, "Now," he cracked the delicate bones inside her index finger as Hera screamed in pain and fear. Frank moved forward and stopped with a sneer, standing in front of Hera.

Tom leaned over and hugged Misty inside his arms for love and protection, watching the horror show, hearing her bones crack.

Frank stared with fury into her distorted face of Hera, eagerly listening for the set of secret medical answers as she had performed a barbaric abortion procedure on his wife Misty.

Misty sobbed with a set of rolling wet hot tears, flowing down a face while watching with a pair of blurry eyeballs, hearing with her acute eardrums as Stu continued to squeeze and crack each finger of Hera's finger bones.

Tom whispered with the eardrum on Misty with a stern face, "It is okay, sweetheart. Frank's smart. He'll figure it all out, Misty, sweetheart."

"The baby?" Misty sobbed with tears of worry, patting the arms on Tom.

Tom tenderly patted the arms of Misty and whispered into her eardrum, "Everything's okay, Misty, sweetheart."

"Our baby!" Misty sobbed with tears of worry.

"Everything will be okay, sweetheart." Tom exhaled with worry too.

Hera screamed then hissed and pant with heavy breathes as Stu painfully released a set of three broken fingers. Her hand dropped down into her lap. He moved and shifted, reaching and grabbed, lifting the left hand of Hera into his sour frown.

Hera growled with a deadly timber. "I implanted an electronic chip inside her like a puppy dog." Stu squeezed two of the healthy finger pads with his strong hands as Hera yelled with fear, "Call off the bulldog."

"Stuart, thank you," Frank smirked with a nod to Stu. Stu flung her left hand out from a tight grip, watching it land inside her lap and reached, placing both palms on her naked collar bone, acknowledging a tough female bitch.

"ID chip," Tom frowned with confusion.

"More sophisticated than a simple identification dog chip, it is linked by an outer space satellite inside a duplicate smart electronic metal chip inside me. Misty cannot move more than fifty feet. The chip will explode, releasing a set of tiny sub-cell folic acid from the metal chip and into her blood stream. The folic acid will solidify each organ, including the breathing lungs. She will die within two hours. No one can stop it, not even godly Dr. Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove." Hera laughed, rubbing the broken fingers on her right hand with a grunt of pain.

"Holy fucking shit!" Tom gasped, looking down at the blonde hair roots on Misty with worry and love.

"Holy crap!" Stu lifted and slammed both palms over the naked collar bone of Hera in worry and frustration.

"Damn it to hell!" Austin whispered for his eardrums only, watching the smirk on the face of Hera.

Frank pivoted toward the wall, where a long counter contained a set of chemical laboratory equipment, seeking a swift solution to a messy medical mystery with a stern face and a serious tone, "I can and I will. Misty, love, please lay down on top of the operating table." He stopped and stood, reaching and grabbed a body scope with an attached camera lenses for seeing inside the body. There was a microphone attached for listening inside the body to any foreign objects too. He spun around with a stern face and moved to Misty, activating the piece of medical equipment, a size of a digital palm photograph camera between his naked hands and stopped, standing at the naked feet of Misty. He slowly lifted and held the body scope over a set of her blue painted toenails, searching for a metal electronic chip object inside her body, scanning her feet, very slowly.

"What are you doing, Frank?" Austin turned and frowned at the back spine on Frank who was really an unstable and ass-tired love sick physician.

"This electronic body scope can detect a metal or a single foreign substance inside a biological body. I'm going to track, trace, and find that damn ID chip." Frank lifted and held the body scope over her ankle bones.

"Can we use Charity's MRI or cat scanner unit for that medical procedure? A larger piece of equipment can cover a vast larger area faster, Frank." Austin watched with worry and authority. Frank held the body scope at the legs shins of Misty.

"The concept of a dog ID tag is for easy identification and location within a small mammal body." Frank lifted and held the body scope over the kneecaps of Misty with a stern face. "Dogs and cats are smaller in size to Misty, but this instrument can locate the object if given enough time." So far, he had not found the microchip and shifted the body scope to her thighs underneath the cloth gown.

Stu turned and stared at the nose profile on Austin while holding Hera in place inside the hard chair. "We can't simply move Misty and Hera to one of Charity Hospitals, Austin. If Charity finds out Hera implanted a bomb..."

Austin exhaled and watched the back spine on Frank with worry. "Thanks for the clarification, Stu."

Frank stopped and lifted the body scope, frowning at the tiny camera lens, swinging around with a stern face to see Hera. "Where is it lodged maybe onto an organ or a piece of bone marrow?"

Hera smiled without talking. Stu squeezed his palms over both of her collar bones with a grunt. She frowned to Frank, "The ID chip floats like a boat inside her blood stream. The biological natural barriers inside a healthy body will attack it first, if it tries to attach to either bone or organ."

Tom gasped. "Dog location tags are directly underneath the skin, Frank, not near the organs." He turned and sneered at Hera. "She fibs, again, Frank."

Frank nodded with a stern face, moving and held the body scope over the left leg artery of Misty, since the vein of the blood flowed directly into the heart organ for all life forms. "Correct, Tom. There are business companies experimenting with ID chips for the bloodstream that could be used to tag a young child for good reasons, such like, stopping parent abductions or a gang of slave traders. Good companies are doing good work but the ID chip is being purchased by evil people like Hera. This is very experimental and very safe, if used correctly."

Tom said. "You mean to say that the ID chip cannot be removed. It stays in the kid forever."

"Thomas, you're always the smartest brother in the band." Frank scanned the skin around the blood artery with a slight grin. "Once, I locate the device, I will remove it surgically." The body scope sounded with a sharp beep as Frank exhaled. "Thank, God Almighty, I have found it."

Misty sobbed with tears, not moving, "Take it out, Frankie. Please take it of me."

Frank shifted and leaned down into her face, kissing her lips and pulled back with a wink and a smile, whispering with love. "I will, love." He stood upright with a stern face and a serious tone to see Sawyer, "Tom, assist me."

"Yes, Frank, what do I do?" Tom stood on the other side of the operating table beside Misty, waiting for the medical instruction.

Frank reached and handed the body scope to Tom, pointing down at the left thigh of Misty. "Hold the body scope stationary here. So I can see the metal ID chip clearly through the camera lenses."

"Got it!" Tom accepted and held the body scope at the left thigh of Misty, clearly seeing the ID chip inside the tiny black screen as a white twirling object.

"Austin?" Frank turned with a stern face and a serious tone, viewing a set of different medications and pieces of surgical equipment for a simple extract invasive operation on Misty.

"Frank." Austin moved and shuffled next to Frank with a stern face in front of the operating table with Misty.

Frank moved ahead to the counter with the chemical laboratory and medical equipment, grabbing a tray of wrapped surgery equipment pieces that could be used for some type of medical operation. Rank didn't know what Ned used the items for and he didn't care at the moment. He turned and rolled the sterile tray to Austin and stopped, standing between the tray and Austin. "Stand here! When I call for an instrument, hand it to me."

"Got it," Austin turned and viewed the sterile tray of medical equipment with a stern face and a worried heart, standing on the left side of Frank between the physician and the medical tray.

"PPE equipment, first," Frank turned and scanned the room, moving ahead to the opposite wall in the tiny operating room and laboratory center. The wall showed a tall cabinet with a set of various sized PPE gear that was perpendicular to Stu and Hera. He stopped and stood, reaching and grabbing the proper size for his tallness, dressing.

Austin turned and trotted behind Frank, stopped and stood, grabbing and dressing in all the different pieces of PPE gear from a skull cap for his hair roots, a gown for his jumpsuit and a pair of booties for his leathers. He reached and grabbed a set of PPE gear for Tom too, swinging around and moved, stopped and stood between the tray and Frank again. He handed the PPE gear with gloves to Tom.

Tom accepted the PPE gear and dressed in the sterile gown and a pair of gloves too for Misty's operation.

Frank leaned down and kisses her lips, pulling back with a wink and a smile. "Misty, love, I'm going to give you a sedative, so you will not be nervous during the simple operation." Misty sobbed with tears as he gently wiped the tears away from her two eye sockets. Frank whispered into her face with a fake smile. "You and the baby are going to be fine." She sobbed with more tears with a fake smile of worry. Then Frank looked up with a nod to see Tom.

Tom was too smart, knowing that Misty's baby had died and been buried by the evil witch doctor.

Frank reached and rattled the medical tray, finding and turned, applying the sedative with a pair of steady hands into her arm.

The sedative would relax a shaking and nervous biological body as it worked very quickly.

Misty closed her eyelashes into a deep sleep.

Frank turned with a nod to Austin and Tom. They both back stepped from Misty and the operating table. Frank reached up and pulled around a tiny curtain, looking down at his sleeping wife with worry. He tenderly undressed her with a pair of naked hands, draping a cloth surgical gown loosely around her body, studying his loving wife and exhaled with worry and determination. He reached up and pushed the curtain away from the operating table and Misty, placing a surgery mask over a face and a pair of gloves over two hands.

Tom and Austin donned a face mask and a pair of surgery gloves too like Frank, moving back to stand near the operating table with Misty.

Frank looked up with a pair mint green eyeballs and a serious tone to see Tom. "Where is it?"

"Upper thigh," Tom held the body scope for the naked left thigh of Misty, pointing down at the spot where the ID chip was twirling around inside the camera lenses of the stationary body scope.

"Scalpel," Frank reached over and held out a gloved palm. Austin grabbed and lifted, handing the tiny sharp knife with care to Frank. Mangrove said. "Tom, hold the body scope directly over the thigh, so I can see the chip." Tom leaned over to the side as the body scope was positioned directly over the upper thigh of Misty.

Frank leaned over and cut into the tender suntanned soft flesh with a stern face and a serious tone. "Austin, sponge, wipe here." a set of red blood dropped from the small incision on Misty, the white bed sheet, Frank's gloves and then hit the tile floor. Austin leaned over and wiped the bloody wound cut clean with a yellow soft sponge as Frank held out a glove palm with his new order. "Forceps," Austin lifted the sponge into the air and grabbed, handing the new surgical tool with the other hand to Frank.

Frank used the forceps to pull down the bloody patch of skin with the attached muscle, seeking the stationary metal piece.

"Shit!" Tom gasped without moving the body scope from the open wound on Misty.

"What!?" Frank looked up with a stern face to see Tom.

"Gone, Frank! The chip has disappeared off the fucking screen." Tom shifted and shuffled the camera lenses of the body scope up, down and sideways, trying to seek the metal device. "Shit, wait, here, it is here at her hip bone now." Tom pointed to the newest hot spot on Misty's body with a gloved hand, holding the body scope directly over the metal chip as it appeared like a white square object inside the tiny camera lens. "It moved again. Now, it jumped like a fucking flea, Frank."

Frank spun around with a stern face and a serious tone to see Hera. She giggled with a grin. Frank yelled with fury. "Explain!"

Hera smiled, "You, the genius doc?"

Stu reached down and jerked up the left undamaged hand of Hera with a sneer. Hera gasped with shock, "Radar, the ID chip is designed to react to other metal objects for survival, so it cannot be removed," smiling at the final defeat of Mangrove. Now, Hera could re-negotiate a set of new terms for her life form with billions of new dollars for her new fun, once she had escaped from Marathon. Or maybe, she would force an illegal escort with her escape from the Quartet too.

Frank exhaled. "Without cutting Misty to bits, damn, damn, damn!"

"Think, Frank. What to do? It thinks. Therefore, it's alive." Tom nodded.

Hera smirked to Tom, "Very good for a stupid lawyer."

"Where did it go, now, Tom?" Frank turned and patched the cut wound on Misty outside her thigh leg with a set of white bandages, stopping the bleeding.

"She needs a hospital, Frank." Austin said with worry, standing between the physician and medical equipment.

"No." Frank snapped with fury, looking down at the body scope. "The chip, Tom?"

Stu reached and squeezed both palms down on the naked collar bone of Hera, "Once the FBI gets here, we will lose Hera. I couldn't stop them from taking her or killing her."

Tom pointed at the newest hot spot with a gloved hand, holding the body-scope over the hip bone of sleeping Misty. "Here, near the right hip bone, Frank." Frank watched the camera lenses on the body scope and quickly chopped the sharp scalpel into her hip. A set of Red blood flowed down from Misty's hip bone onto the bed sheet, his clothes, and his hands. Tom gasped with alarmingly terror. "Holy fucking shit, gone again, Frank!"

Frank lifted and reared, tossing the bloody scalpel against the wall on the right side on Tom. "Damn!"

Tom ducked to the left and turned to see the resting scalpel with a worried brow, "Careful, buddy."

"If you can't get the damn ID chip out of Misty, how's about out of her body, Frank?" Stu lifted and pointed a finger at the hair roots on Hera with a growl.

Frank turned with a gasp and moved to counter of medical mediations and equipment, grinning with an evil smirk underneath the surgery mask and stopped, standing at the counter. "Gawd, you're right, Stu. I always wanted to cut the bitch up into tiny body pieces and feed her sliced tits to the sharks anyways," laughing with an evil tone. He reached and mixed an IV needle of heavy sleep sedative for Hera.

Hera struggled side to side inside the chair with a pitch of screams. "No, not me, if I die..."

He turned and dashed with a laugh and a grin, moving passed Hera. "Die! You ain't going to die, bitch. I'm a doctor. I'm fucking god. I save people. I raise the dead from the graves, so the rumors go." Frank stopped and stood in front of the second operating table. "Thomas!"

Stu lifted and jerked Hera out from the desk chair, flinging her body through the air from his brute strength and parked her on top of a second cold naked steel surgical table with a loud ting. Austin turned and scooted across the floor, stopping and stood at the kicking naked feet and legs of Hera, reaching down and held them with a pair of gloved hands. Stu stood and held the collar bone of Hera with a sneer and a pair of naked hands.

Frank leaned down and stabbed the sharp needle into her naked forearm as she screamed in pain.

Tom back stepped and scooted around the operating table with Misty, dashing across the floor and stood next to the feet of Hera and near Austin, holding and scanned the body scope at the naked feet of Hera and up toward her brain, seeking the duplicate electronic ID chip.

Hera screamed and wiggled in horror. "No, not me!" She struggled and strained between the hands of the Quartet Assholes for ten long seconds and then peacefully relaxed a biological body, closing her eyelashes into a deep slumber.

"Find it, Tom," Frank stood by the forearm of Hera and gritted his teeth, turning and moved, stopping and grabbed a new sterile bigger and sharper surgical scalpel from the medical tray. He turned and moved back to the operating table, observing an unconscious Hera.

"Here!" Tom gasped and pointed down at the abdomen of Hera, holding the body scope at the hot spot.

"Good work, Tom." Frank stopped with a nod, standing beside Tom, leaning over to see the body scope with a serious tone. "It is near her liver."

"Shit, I hope it's not yellow." Stu softly chuckled with Austin and Tom.

Frank horizontally and horribly leaned down and sawed the big sharp scalpel back and forth into the fleshy guts of Hera as her skin flesh ripped open. A set of red blood flew out from the body as each organ section was tossed from her guts and dropped down onto the table, the floor, and the boot toes of Frank. Mangrove cut around the healthy liver with fury. "Not there!"

Tom shifted the body scope and chased the ID chip around the liver and over to the stomach and then back down into the intestines as Frank chopped and sliced and diced each vital organ inside Hera with the big sharp scalpel like a professional television cooking chef, who was preparing the evening meal for the television guests.

"Today, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to watch Chef Franklin carve the stomach lining into a set of finely chopped particles," Stu softly narrated with a funny British accent as a Quartet Asshole. Tom grinned. Austin smiled. Frank ignored the humorous comments, buzz sawing the big knife like a chain saw on the intestines. Stu continued. "But, wait, first, when need to slice and dice the small intestines, while the stomach acids sauté the finely chopped pieces."

Tom softly snorted and held the body scope over the intestines. Austin smiled. Frank sawed with a stern face at the organs of Hera.

"There, it is right there, Frank." Tom pointed to the long organ, since he did not know the exact body part while not getting puke green sick from the medical operation.

"Large intestines," Frank leaned over with a sneer and nicely segmented the grayish tentacle like splitting a set of crab legs for the evening dinner meal. He lifted and dropped down each bloody hand-carved organ portion from the scalpel cut as it landed onto the red blood stained tile.

Stu back stepped, wiping the sweaty and blood of Hera from his hands with a sour frown, "Shit, these are my new leather boots. Can't you be a little more gentle, Franklin? She's dead."

Tom held the body scope with a sneer, "Who gives a shit, man?"

"Shut up, Tom." Stu frowned, watching the medical operation.

Frank gasped and placed the bloody scalpel over her naked tits. "Found it." He gently reached down and parted the rest of large intestine with a pair of gloved hands, seeing a tiny tea leaf sized metal chip, perfectly square. Austin turned and dashed to the medical tray, reaching and grabbed the forceps, turning and rushing to Frank, handing the item. Frank accepted and used the forceps, grabbing and lifted the metal object out from dead Hera and swung to the laboratory counter with a serious tone and a stern face. "Thomas!"

Tom ran behind Frank, reaching and placed the body scope on top of the counter. Mangrove said, "Container." Tom reached and grabbed one of the smaller steel rounded containers from the laboratory stores, opening the closed lid as Frank leaned down and dropped the ID chip of Hera down into the steel cylinder. Tom secured the lid. Frank reached and grabbed a row of bandage tape, turning and moved, stopping and stood next to Misty. "Tom." Sawyer dashed behind Frank, holding out the tiny container from his chest, pulling up beside him at the first operating table with Misty.

Frank turned and grabbed the tiny container, wrapping the white adhesive bandages onto the container and then placed the container around the arm and part of the chest of Misty for safekeeping of the ID chip until her medical surgery by Jace.

Frank exhaled with a smile, gently lifting and held her hand into his sweaty face with love. "Misty is fine and safe at the moment. We can take her to the hospital, now. I can find..."

Austin turned and viewed at Stu. "Call Jace, pronto! He can find the ID chip inside Misty's body, Frank. Then Jace can remove it safely at Charity Kendall Hospital. It is the closest medical center for this delicate operation." Berrington had received the information from Jace on Stu's mobile telephone during Frank's deadly operation on a stupid Dr. Hera.

"But how, Frank? It jumps like a fucking dog flea when any other metal object comes close to it." Tom stared with a confused brow at Misty.

Frank knew why Austin had used the proper name of that particular hospital, "Charity Kendall Hospital has a set of electromagnetic tracers and stunners that holds a metal object in static while the surgeon cuts into the epidermis skin, locating and removing any and all foreign objects which our talented friend Jace can do." Frank removed the bloody PPE gloves, leaning down and placed both arms underneath Misty.

Austin moved and pushed Frank to the side with a new command. "Stu, carry Misty. Tom grab an arm..." Austin turned and grabbed the right arm of Frank with a grin and a set of brotherly compassion, "Let's go, buddy!" Frank felt exhaustion of love and beaten from the physical, mental, and emotional roller coaster ride which had finally stopped. Austin leaned over with smile. "We all with go to the hospital together and wait for the Misty in medical recovery."

"Phil Magnum and his team of local FBI agents are in route, Austin." Stu swished the mobile telephone off and pocketed it into the vest. "A, B, and C QA teams will stay and help with mop up police procedures and then go home. Jace is on route to the surgery suit right now for prepping the medical operation for Misty. And Jane and Gracie are leaving the house, meeting up with us at Charity Kendall. The helicopter just landed on the golden sands of Marathon." He smiled with a nod. "All is well." He moved and stood, lifting Misty into his big arms and turned to the archway.

"Thanks, Stu." Frank whispered, allowing Austin and Tom to drag his tired body toward the archway.

"My pleasure, Franklin," Stu led the Quartet from the sea castle of dead Hera.
Thursday July 29th

City of Miami

9:22 a.m.

Miami Dade Courthouse (ten miles north from Coral Beach)

Court room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The next sunny day, Misty had recovered with marvelous results from her medical operation while she had learned the fate of her dead baby.

However, Frank had promised and planned a travel arrangement to her favorite spot, the big island of Hawaii for three long months with Frank. They would lounge and laugh, having a good time, creating another baby with God Almighty's help.

The Band of Brothers and Sister arrived outside the Miami-Dade court house building, traveling inside a set of four separate limousines.

Each limousine slowed and parked along the sideway of the pretty day in Miami.

Several pairs of leathers exited from each limousine and stood on top of the vanilla colored concrete sidewalk underneath a baby blue sky of Miami, Florida.

Tom stood, wearing a pair of sunglasses, squirting at the bright yellow sun and the object. "Jane." He leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a grin, "This is the surprise, sweetheart."

Jane cuddled Tom, tapping on his dress shirt with a smile and a nod, "Yes, sweetheart."

The rest of the Quartet moved ahead, entering through the doors and the x-ray machines of the building.

"Courthouse!?" Tom cuddled with Jane and followed his brothers and his sister through the guarded entrance doors. The brothers and sisters stopped and gathered into tight huddle around an open archway of an empty court room. Tom turned and scanned the familiar building with a smile and a nod. "Who's getting married?" He swung a smile to see Austin. "Gawd, Austin, are you marrying Athena, right? Katt, right? Who, your latest fuck?" Austin stared with a stern face at Tom in silence. Frank, Misty, Jane, Stu, and Misty softly chuckled.

"Wrong, Law Man." Stu smiled at the nose profile on Tom.

"Who fuckingly died? How much gawd damn millions are we getting now?" Tom smiled and rubbed the palms together for the dead person and the dead person's last Will and Testimony as the other brothers and sisters softly chuckled.

"Wrong for a second time, Law Man," Frank lifted and held two fingers in the air with a smile.

Jane cuddled Tom with a set of mint breath and a smile into his cheekbone. "What else do you do inside a courthouse, sweetheart?"

Tom turned with a grin and a giggle to see Jane, holding up three spidery pale finger pads,

"Marry. Die. Jail."

"Bingo! Give that man an unlit and unhealthy stinky cigar." Stu reached and gently tapped the skinny bicep on Tom with a smile and a chuckle.

Tom turned and frowned at each face. "Jail, who the hell is going to jail?" He turned and gasped at Frank "Frank, man, I am sorry there. You murdered Hera in cold blood when you cut out all her guts with that sharp knife. Tough shit, bro! But, I can flea bargain, maybe get you out five to eighty-eight years from now," giggling

Frank turned and slapped the bicep on Tom in fury. "Shut up, asshole! Don't tell the fucking world." He turned and scanned the open lobby for any nosy guests and family members of convicted prisoners, regarding the deep dark death secret.

"Sorry, Franklin," Tom sniggered with a grin at the vile death act which was last night inside Hera's mad scientist laboratory.

Frank smiled with an evil grin, staring a silly Tom. "I'm not going to jail, Thomas. But, someone is."

"Who?" Tom chuckled.

"You!" Frank laughed.

"Fuck that, Ferdinand." Tom turned and mouth spat from his lips at Frank. Mangrove back stepped from the vile germ attack with another evil laugh.

Jane leaned over and wrapped both arms around the collar bone on Tom, whispering into the eardrum on her husband with a smile "Thomas, sweetheart, do you remember you broke out of your pen in rehabilitation ward number eighteen at Charity Hospital?"

Tom nodded with a smile. "I fuckingly escaped. So gawd damn what of it, sweetheart?"

Stu laughed. "Well, you have been captured, boy. The ward's looking for you, bro. Charity has issued an APB on your captured and returned skinny ass without any reward monies, but I did ask, of course," chuckling.

Tom gasped in fury. "The assholes did not, since I'll sue them for billions."

Frank hugged Misty, staring with a smile at the nose profile on Sawyer. "You can't sue, Thomas. I placed your ass in there first."

Tom turned and frowned to Frank. "Then I will sue your ass second, Ferdinand."

Stu smiled, "Thomas, we turned you into the cops."

Tom gasped. "Holy fucking shit, you turned me into Charity for cutting foot loose and fancy free. I didn't belong there, since I..."

"I did, sweetheart." Jane nodded with a smile, staring at the nose profile on Tom, hugging his body.

Tom back stepped from her cuddle and parted his lips, inhaling and exhaled with a sad face. "My beautiful and loving wife has turned me into the cops. Jane, why? How could you? I love you, sweetheart."

Jane leaned over with a smile and a whisper into his face, "I love you, too. You're my pumpkin butt." She pulled back with a stern face with love and protection. "But, you broke the law, Tom. You were supposed to stay inside the ward eighteen until Frank released you."

Tom turned and frowned at Frank. "What the fucking hell, Frank? Frank, this is your idea. Admit it, asshole?"

Frank chuckled. "No asswipe, it is not. It is Janey's idea."

Austin and Stu reached and grabbed a sleeve on the new dark blue business jacket on Tom before the fugitive could flee on a pair of new matching dark blue leathers as they turned and shoved Tom into the open doors of the empty courtroom.

Tom kicked and screamed with horror, "Jane, sweetheart, help me!"

Jane turned with a smile and a nod and moved behind the back spines of Austin and Stu, strolling into the courtroom. "I'm helping you, Tom, sweetheart, because I love you very, very much."

"You're late, Mr. Sawyer." Judge Sherman Cutter was sitting behind the bench, wearing a pair of black robes without a twelve person jury and a body and a face of a prosecution or a defendant attorney.

Austin and Stu stopped and stood, dropping Tom down to the tile, standing guard too. Tom extended both arms with a sour frown. "Gawd, Cutter, I'll being framed, man. Help me, man!"

Cutter reached and lifted the legal papers that really were the daily newspaper in disguise with a stern face, rattling the papers for drama. "Mr. Sawyer, those papers charge you with drunk driving, fighting with a police officer, cursing at police officer, wrecking city property..."

"My car, man," Tom frowned.

"Destruction of personal property, burglarized Mr. Gage's house, robbed Mrs. Sawyer's house while terrorizing house servants." Cutter continued.

"Robbed what, Cutter?" Tom gasped.

"Stealing the car," Cutter dropped the newspaper onto the bench surface with a stern face to see Tom where all the information had been provided by the wives and the brothers of the Quartet.

"It's mine car, man." Tom exhaled.

"You were incarcerated, Mr. Sawyer. You had no rights or property at the..."

"Bull shit, Cutter!" Tom moved toward the bench with a sour frown. "This fuckingly court hearing is a joke. Ha, ha, not very funny, man."

Cutter exhaled with a stern face and a serious tone. "Really, Mr. Sawyer, I do not desire to toss contempt of the lawyer on top of all these serious criminal charges."

"Release me, fool." Tom frowned.

Cutter lifted and read the newspaper with a stern face. "Breaking, entering, and unlawful entrance into the Quartet Associates headquarters building and finally escaping from a mental health." He dropped the newspaper and smiled at Tom.

"Rehab, not psych, man, get it right." Tom turned and frowned at the nose profile on Stu. "Who pressed all these gawd damn criminal charges against me? Stuart Thant Gage, the third, I fuckingly presume."

Jane lifted and waved both her arms with a smile and a nod at the back spine on Tom. "I did, sweetheart."

Tom spun around with a sissy whine and a sad face to see Jane, "Jane, sweetheart, stealing my own sports car?"

Jane shook her red curls with a bland brow. "I found it gone along with a traumatized Gilbert."

Tom slapped his chest with a nod and a grin. "You knew it was me, Jane, sweetheart?"

Jane smirked. "It could have been a thief driving off with your new sports car, sweetheart."

Tom turned and frowned at the nose profile on his brother, "Stu, unlawful entry of my office? The fucking door was wide open. QA guards were everywhere for the..."

"Naw." Stu turned and chuckled with a nod to Tom, "Your person was not employed there, Thomas."

Tom exhaled. "I own a fourth of the building, the bank accounts, and assets, asswipe."

Frank smiled with a nod, "Only on paper, Thomas."

Tom turned and whined to his sister, "Gracie, the house!?"

Gracie frowned. "I reported you to the Coral Gables police when I found the balcony door wide open."

Tom whined. "Gracie, how could you?"

"I didn't know you were so talented, Tom." Gracie smiled with a nod. Stu moved forward and stood, hugging and cuddled with a smile on his wife. They softly chuckled at Tom.

Tom turned and stared with a stern face at his other brother. "Austin, did you report me?"

"No." Austin said.

Tom smiled with a nod. "Good, I need a lawyer."

Austin smirked. "I need a retainer, Tom."

Tom reached and pulled out the wallet from a pocket, fumbling about the money and presented the retainer for Austin. "Shit, here's a dollar to represent me."

Austin stared with a confused brow down at the single bill in the hand on Tom, "One dollar?"

Tom smirked. "Well, you ain't really a lawyer, man. Well, you ain't worth the dollar but that's the smallest bill I got. And, well, you really worth maybe a quarter, but I don't carry coinage." He thumbed back over a collar bone to Cutter. "Holy fucking shit, Berrington, just tell the man the truth. I was set up."

Austin reached and snatched away the dollar with a smirk, holding up in the air in a right hand with a nod. "The truth will set you free. Something like that! Is that correct, Tom?"

Tom bowed his arms with a smile and a nod. "That's it. You got it right, Old Man. Go for it!"

Austin exhaled, "All right, Tom." They turned and moved together, stopping and stood in front of Cutter. Austin smirked. "Your Honor, I am the defendant's attorney. He pleads guilty on all the stated criminal and non-criminal charges." The other brothers and sisters softly chuckled behind the back spines of Austin and Tom.

Tom leaned over and jerked the dollar bill from the hand of Austin. "Fuck that, man! Gimme back the gawd damn dollar, asswipe." He turned with a sissy whine to face Cutter, defending his person as a real criminal lawyer. "I plead not guilty. I was framed. I was set up." He turned and smiled at Misty. "I saved Misty..."

"We all saved Misty." Stu shook a bald skull with a sour frown.

Tom bowed his arms with a nod and a smile to his sister, "Misty, help me."

Misty moved from Frank and shuffled beside Tom, cuddling into her brother with a smile and a nod to Cutter, "Your Honor, please allow me to speak."

"Go ahead, Mrs. Mangrove." Cutter nodded with a smile.

Misty smiled. "Your Honor, Thomas is brave, courageous, and smart. He, along with my other brothers, saved my life. I'm so proud to be his sister. I love Thomas very, very much. I believe that you'll make the right decision for Tom's best interest."

"Misty loves me." Tom leaned over and lightly pecked a kiss on her cheekbone. Frank moved forward and grabbed, snatching the waistline of Misty from Tom, pulling her into a hug and kissed her cheekbone, whispering a set of secret words into her eardrums as she giggled with a grin.

"Thank you, Mrs. Mangrove, for that wonderful testimony." Cutter turned exhaled to Tom. "Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third, you are sentenced to another twenty-four hours for escaping out from the Charity Hospital Rehab Ward 18 by the First Circuit Miami-Dade County Federal Judge named Sherman Cutter. That's me, who has proceeds over this criminal case today at ten o'clock. Dr. Franklin Mangrove, your personal physician will sign the legal papers tomorrow afternoon at one pm that is when you will be officially released from Charity Kendall Hospital located in Kendall, Florida. This hearing is concluded. Dismissed." He reached and lifted, banging the wooden gravel on top of the bench, motioning with a hand to the bailiff.

The bailiff turned and moved, stopping and stood, opening the side door into the jail cells.

A set of courthouse guard emerged through the open door as the lead courthouse guard held a pair of silver tinted hand cuffs, moving to intercept Sawyer.

Tom back stepped from the bench and the bailiff, waving his bangs and his arms with a worried brow. "No, no, no..." Stu and Austin rushed and stood behind Sawyer, before he turned and escaped his sentencing from the courthouse. The pair of courthouse guards stopped and stood in place as a set of hands reached and grabbed Sawyer, swinging Tom around and clipped on a pair of handcuffs in silence. Stu and Austin back stepped from the flinging elbows. Tom yelled in worry and fear. "Fuck this kangaroo Court. I wanna real lawyer, Cutter. Cutter come back here, now. I'll get a new lawyer. Cutter?" Tom looked up with a sad face and a sissy whine to his wife. "Jane, sweetheart, you're an awesome lawyer. Help me! Call Cutter back into the court room and you defend me, now. I'm innocent."

Jane moved ahead and stood, gently leaning over and hugged Tom and pulled back with a frown, shaking her red curls with love. "No, Tom, you are not innocent. Cutter found you guilty again. You must do your time in the slammer."

Cutter held and pointed the wooden gravel at the side open door for fun and amusement with a smile and a nod. "Take Mr. Sawyer into the rear of the building, where an awaiting vehicle will transport to him back into the Charity Kendall Hospital Rehab Ward 18 for his final day of rehabilitation services, of the before mentioned criminal charges. Have a good day, Thomas!" He stood and turned, moving down the steps and exited his courtroom with a grin and a chuckle of the fun but serious sentencing of a silly billionaire for a sillier crime, escaping from a mental ward.

Tom struggled side to side, saying with a sad face and a sissy whine to Jane. "No, not there, Jane, please I wanna to go home, now. I wanna go home with you, sweetheart."

Jane exhaled with a stern face. "You have to learn all your lessons, Tom sweetheart, not just the bad ones."

Tom frowned, "Jane, sweetheart."

"In a little over twenty-four hours, Tom, then we will be together foreverly, sweetheart," she leaned over and tenderly kissed his lips, feeling the new set of blondish-red cat whiskers, "And all the facial hairs come off. Shave inside your rehab room, tonight." She back stepped with a nod and a stern face to tom.

Tom turned and whined with a sad face to Frank. "Frank, help me. I saved Misty."

Stu chuckled. "We all saved Misty."

Tom turned and whined to Misty. "Misty, please help me!"

Misty moved ahead from Frank and stood beside Jane, reaching and tenderly tapped on the collar bone on Tom with a stern face and a nod. "No, Thomas. Janey's correct. You saved me. Thank you, so much. I love you, so much. You're a good brother." She leaned over and tenderly pecked a light kiss on the cheekbone on Tom, pulling back with a stern face and a nod. "But you have to learn to act like a big boy."

Tom gasped and screamed with panic, "No, no, no..."

The bailiff spun around with a stern face and led the two court house guards as they hauled a backward Tom toward the side door. The door led down a narrow hallway, exiting into the sunshine and inside an awaiting limousine that belonged to Austin.

Tom screamed with panic. "No, Jane, please rescue me, No, no, no..."

The door closed.

The Band of Brothers and Sisters less one turned and moved out the empty courtroom, stopping and stood in a tight huddle inside the crowded lobby. The court room doors closed behind a set of asses and back spines.

Stu hugged on Gracie with a smile and a nod, "All for one..."

Austin shook a skull. "That motto is for all of us to share we're one man down, Stu."

"Then what should I say?" Stu frowned.

"For my one and only," Frank leaned over and kissed the cheekbone of Misty Marie with love and protection.

"For my one and only," Jane nodded with a chuckle.

All eardrums continued to hear the loud cry of Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third yelling in tenor for help, moving down the rear hallway of the Miami-Dade courthouse toward the awaiting Quartet limousine.
Friday July 30th

City of Coral Gables (five miles west of Coral Beach)

Quartet Associates headquarters

6:48 a.m.

Conference room number one setting

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

The city of Coral Gables was South Florida's most privileged business and rural community that was nicknamed "City Beautiful."

The business company branded as Quartet Associates was located on top of five acres of prime Florida land which was directly located at the infamous Miracle Mile. Miracle Mile was the main shopping district along a half-a-mile stretch of traffic driving and leather walking roadway, containing over hundred and fifty combined multinational financial corporations, elegant fashion shops, international eating restaurants, and pretty art galleries.

Quartet Associates (QA) comprised thirty-three floors of a preeminent address inside the heart of the city of Coral Gables within the US State of Florida. The tall structure offered 375,000 square feet of posh office suites, nice conference rooms, three libraries, and two audio-visual rooms along with two restaurants on the fourth floor, a basketball court, an indoor track and fitness center on the eighth floor. An empty and tan colored reception lobby for arriving and departing client of Quartet Associates was electronically guarded by three hi-tech security cameras plus three highly trained nice smiling QA guards.

The employees of QA enjoyed an in-service financial bank on the second floor, a garage of private individual parking spots in the rear of the building along with a free car wash facility, and a helicopter pad on the roof for an emergency which had never been used.

Both the QA employees and the administration executives also viewed an eyeful panoramic city landscape of Coral Gables, including the Ponce de Leon grassy people and dog park or the Biscayne Bay of blue colored salt water, depending on the private wall office at QA. The single tallest tower within the Gables displayed the finest imported marble, granite, brass, wood work, and stained glass windows, coming from the four corners of the world. An amusingly set of four pink-tinted granite water fountains that were located at each geographically street corner of the QA headquarters building shot out a plume of yellow colored water into the air as the water allowed Earth gravity to bring it back down into the clear and clean fountain pond. (Note: fresh drinking water was a hot premium in heated South Florida.)

The medium sized conference room which was labeled number one beautifully displayed the yellow colored water, looking like a pint of human piss that went up into the air and then down fell down into the fountain pond at the traffic intersection of Red Road and Pineapple Street. Stu continued to stare with a smile through the clean glass window at the merchandise shoppers by foot, the commuters by cars, and the kids by sneakers as the kids hopped down the vanilla tinted sidewalk to the local Coral Gables Elementary School which was two blocks from headquarter QA tower.

QA was a nicknamed given by the employees and some clients of the privately own business company. Stu preferred the earned nicknamed Quartet Assholes instead, enjoying the brief sightseeing tour while waiting for rest of the fourths to arrive for at the morning breakfast meeting each morning.

The metro city of Miami was a hot spot paradise for a billionaire, who lived in one of the most beautiful places on the planet Earth. The weather was warm all year around for swimming, skiing, fishing, boating, sporting, shopping, jogging, walking, and playing. Only money could buy this kind of paradise, Stu had lots and lots of money. He didn't remember not having any money, thanking an inheritance from an extremely wealthy biological father, a very wealthy grandfather, and a slightly wealthy great grandfather. "The Fathers of Miami" were his directly ancestry as the family nickname was talked about on the city streets of South Florida.

The males (Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom) nicknamed themselves, the "Band of Brothers," but they were not biological siblings at all. They were "blood brothers" like their biological fathers before them.

In the year 1838, the four biological great-grandfathers of Austin, Stu, Frank, and tom formed an eternity "bond" as a set of young teens among the wild farmlands and the wilder forests of northern Florida near a spouting town named Tallahassee, the current state capital of Florida.

Mangrove, the original had moved as a teenager from his beloved native country of Spain along with his favorite stallion. A big wooden ship carried him and his family over the rough seas along with the barn animals, the furniture pieces, a set of medical supplies, and a few pieces of farm equipment, arriving at the new land of America. The father of Mangrove served and worked as an animal veterinary and an occasion as a human physician for the small settlement of farm pioneers.

Gage, the original was unwillingly shipped across the warm waters of the Atlantic Ocean as a slave from his home land of Africa and then worked on a large cotton farm plantation. He successfully escaped into the wild and free sandy golden lands of Florida, bartering his new skills as a farmer.

Sawyer, the original was truly born and reared from a stock of German royalty, looking to rule his own destiny in the New World rather than the Fatherland. He left his biological family members and the family fortune behind his ass, becoming the small township's mayor.

Berrington, the second dangerously traveled the rough open salty seas with the other poor peasants from the foreign country of Great Britain, seeking freedom from the British king's prosecution. He expanded a blacksmith trade within the new America frontier for money and food.

Then the four teen strangers became the four blood brothers, forming the first Quartet in the year 1838.

Twenty-four years ago

City of Coral Gables

Coral Gables Prep Academy

Elementary school playground

Warm temperatures and bright sunlight

At the age of six years old, the four non-biological friends became the set of four blood brothers, embracing the fourth generation of the Quartet.

"We four stick together come hell or heaven forever until eternity," six years old Stuart Thant Gage, the third proudly announced with a grin and a snigger. He loved to watch all the gory and bloody details of warfare programming on the numerous television and movie shows. The biological grandfather of Gage was a formal military officer in USA military, who had been deployed from city of Miami in 1940s and fought in World War Two. Stu was very proud of his Grandfather Gage and couldn't help, catching the wild fever of a military life. However, the day dream of Stuart was not shared by his pop Stuart Thant Gage, Junior.

Stuart Thant was pure logic, discipline, and devotion. He was loyal as a golden retriever to his masters, consisting of his brothers, his families, his friends, his employees, his guests, and his beautifully talented wife Gracie Jean. Stu did not ever meet a stranger.

Once he was your friend, you were his for life.

The brilliant man possessed an array of multiple post-graduate degrees, including a doctoral degree in engineering, a master's of computer science, a bachelor's of mathematics, and was certified as a local law enforcement police officer just for the hell of it.

Stu willingly provided his brotherhood, his friendship, and his protection for many years to the Quartet. He stood tall at six feet and six inches of dark brown African American sinew and muscle with a shaved head, a pair of two intense brown eyeballs, and a set of two sunken cheekbones on a trusted warrior rounded face. He possessed a set of stern fatherly manners of an "old" soul and was the tallest member of the Band of Brothers. Dr. Gage was simply known as "Big Man."

Thus, Big Man maintained peace, harmony, and tranquility with people at home, at work, and on Earth.

"All for one and one for all," six years old Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third quoted from his favorite novel The Three Musketeers. Tom was a full blown science fiction nut as he continued to read, quote and annoy the shit out of your brain cells with his latest and greatest science fiction novel. His non-working life was filled with an array of imaginary space battles, x-ray guns, and time warped flying ships which were set in various locations from a gray stone castle to cold and black outer space. Sawyer lived inside his pretend science fiction world as he was oblivious to the current social, economic, global, and financial events that occurred daily in the city of Miami, the US State of Florida, the country of America, and the entire planet Earth.

Stu had always felt that Tom's 180 IQ was to blame for his weird-ass personality. A loud mouth foul jokester all the time, except when Tom was required to preside over a legal law case, then a brilliant legal genius smooth talking and fast thinking attorney emerged upon the surface.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third had never ever lost any legal law case for Quartet Associates, since passing the Florida legal law bar. The man was furious, fastidious, and feverous with legal and law issues. His brain cells could quote to you any federal ruling, since the year 1829 as it was recorded within the United States of America legal territory boundaries. The guy was known as the "Law Man."

"The Band of four Brothers may no man force us apart, least ye die," six years old Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third brilliantly cited from one of his literature novels. Mangrove was the romantic Renaissance man within the brotherly troupe. His beating heart ruled his mind. And his sharp mind absorbed accounting money principles and medicine treatment knowledge. Franklin was CPA (certified public accountant) and a certified medical physician, who had specialized in dermatology. He graduated from the Miami-Dade Medical School, three years later. Dr. Mangrove preferred chess to war and books to guns with a side interest of both gemology and art collecting. People called him, "Money Man."

"Brothers in life and the afterlife," six years old Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth happily cheered among his non-biological brothers. After the personalized motto, Stu withdrew the pen knife, nicking his finger. He squeezed the blood and then mixed his blood with each brother, sealing the "blood pact" ritual again to bind their brotherhood forever.

Present day and place

Conference number one setting

6:55 a.m.

"Early," Stu said and back stepped from the viewing glass window with a smile and turned, grabbing an empty plate from the food table. He had heard his non-biological brother and business partner Tom, before seeing Sawyer.

Tom entered and strolled through the archway of the conference room, yawning with an open mouth and stopped beside Stu, reached and grabbed an empty plate from the long food table.

Stu stood and used a pair of tongs like a civilized South Florida gentleman for the next food item, wearing an indigo colored cotton dress shirt that was tied with an onyx stone, a business suit of rich midnight, featuring a pair of cuffed trousers and a straight design business jacket. The onyx gem stone either clashed or complimented both his shirt and his mood. He did not like to wear a wool business suit with a bow tie or a preppy double breasted jacket with a long neck tie. Gage stood tall and wide, creating his own personal clothing style.

"Yeah," Tom shoved numerous layers of steaming and hot food on top of the empty plate in no particular order, planning to eat everything and then come back for second's and third's during the usual morning business meeting with his business partners and his life time brothers. Sawyer was listed on the South Florida elegant gentlemen fashion list, one of the best dressed men in the world. Today was no exception. He dressed in a dark blue pin-striped wool business suit with a stark white colored dress shirt. The shirt displayed a set of emerald green gem stone on each golden colored cuff link and a green and yellow neck bowtie with a matching pocket handkerchief. Tom stood tall at six feet and one inch on a slim body frame with a head of blond cropped hair with a set of forehead bangs, a pair of blue eyes, and a tone of pale tinted skin on a heart shaped face.

He shuffled to the last table, standing and preparing the morning coffee. A cup of hot steamed black coffee filled with a heavy spoonful of pure cane white sugar and tons of white sweet milk, making the liquid gleam in a dull yellow. He lifted the cup with one hand, the plate of food with the other hand, slowly spinning around, moving to his assigned section on the conference table, east side. Tom selected the east side, because he was an easy-going guy and an easy person to socialize with. Each brother always sat at a certain post around the conference table.

Austin would always select and slid an ass at the southern end, since he enjoyed the sands and the water of the South Florida.

Frank would march and scoot an ass on the northern end, since he was cold and controlling all the time with the monies of the business.

Stu always would select and sat on the western side of the conference table, since he was a nutty outdoor forest kind of guy, thinking he was a cowboy or something.

Tom gently rested the plate and the coffee cup over the polished wood, arranging the dishes for his first meal of the day. He preferred dressing the part of a lawyer, choosing carefully the classic suit styles of black, dark grey, or dark blue. The classic wool business suit was always paired with a white button down dress shirt and a colorful bright playful neon color bowtie, looking like his dad Thomas Edison Sawyer, Junior. A chip off the old block!

He moved and stood in front of a different beverage table, working on the brew. "How are you feeling, Tom?" Stu prepared the beverage and swung around to face the conference table, slowly strolling to the polished wood and stopped, leaning down and neatly rearranged the plate and the utensils around the laptop, his world of communication. He shuffled a cup of hot green tea away from the computer. Stu didn't leave home without his reliable and dependable computer laptop, holding the universe at a set of daft ten finger pads.

"Fine, relaxed, fit." Tom up righted into full height with a smile and slapped a chest with a laugh. He had lounged yesterday after coming home before noon from the Charity Rehabilitation Ward Eighteen. The Charity Hospital nursing medical staff didn't want to feed him as he ate like a mare in heat. Sawyer had finished serving his time in hell and then spent the rest of his day with Jane, not answering any phone calls, texts, or door messages from the three nosy asshole brothers.

Austin rushed through the archway of the conference room with a smile and a nod, "Lots of work." He stopped and gathered an empty plate of food items down the long table, slowly spinning around and stopped, parking an ass into an empty chair on the south side of the table, looking down with a stern face to see the business notes. Austin looked up to see each brother, sitting around the conference table. He did not travel with a briefcase, a notepad, a tape recorder, a laptop, or a mobile telephone. Berrington did not take notes, record voices, or type key strokes on a computer keyboard. He observed, watched, listened, and learned continuously. The trick was taught to him from birth by his dad Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the third.

Austin's dad said that you could tell a man of guilt, happiness, or angry by body language, voice patterns, eye movements, finger shifts, and the numbered cups of beverages consumed. Austin studied, watched, listened, and heeded the wise advice from his dad on every worldly subject, since precious knowledge was not acquired in an academic room, a Sunday school classroom, an office board room, or a master bedroom only by observation, time, attentiveness, and experience.

Austin's dad was always correct, of course.

I, Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove the third, rudely coughed from a tight dry throat and then covered my open vessel with the used and dirty breakfast napkin. I removed my handkerchief from the suit breast pocket and then coughed for a second time while standing and shifting away from the eating meals that were currently occupied by my brothers. I returned the used handkerchief back into my jacket pocket, sitting down back into my assigned post at the conference table on the northern end and picked up and scanned the newspaper.

I was six feet and one inch in height, the same height as my non-biological brother Thomas, but I displayed a set of more muscular tissue, weighing in at two hundred and two pounds. I worked my leg muscles from running long trips around the sandy beach and a set of curved muscles within a chest and both arms from my regular weight lifting program at home.

I possessed a head of red colored curly hair, closely cropped against a skull, a pair of emerald green irises, and a tone of bronze tinted complexion, compliments of my great grandfather Mangrove from the foreign country of Spain. I displayed an oval shaped face with a set of two sculpted cheekbones, a small forehead, a sharp chin, and an aristocratic nose like my father Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, Junior.

But I did not dress in clothing styles like my dear old dad. I liked the preppy image, dead and gone by the time of my baby birth in metro city Miami in the 1980s. I dressed in a pair of light colored trousers of beige or brown which would be coupled with a dark jacket that was made of blue or maroon colored hundred-percent lamb's wool. I paired the jacket and the trousers with a colorful cotton dress shirt of in hues of pink, blue, green, or yellow that was tied with a cheerful array of wild-looking neck ties, going down to my frontal fit waistline. A professional image had been cultivated by my lovely wife Misty Marie as we dated in college.

"Ya sick, man?" Tom looked up with a sour frown to see the red colored hair roots on Mangrove, a pair of two red colored nose holes, and a set of red colored bloody eyeballs, standing and grabbing the food tray with a sneer and side stepped to the left three empty chairs from Frank.

"A slight development," I said without the proper eye contact, dabbing my inflamed and red colored nose hole of running clear colored snot.

"Slight development!" Tom leaned down with a smile and a chuckle, re-arranging the food dishes for a second time and sat with a snarl at Frank. "That's fuckingly developed with shitty green snot, hanging down from your two great big red flaming damn nostrils, Frank. Go home, man! Don't spread the fucking fun!" He moaned with concern that Frank would be contaminating the rest of the healthy Quartet and their healthy wives. He reached and folded the jelly filled toast, lifting and stuffed the entire food item into a mouth, chewing like a barbaric caveman.

"You're a sick-o, Tom, in both manners and morals." Stu rolled his eyeballs, looking down with a smile to type on the laptop, working of his personal business at QA.

"Telling it..." Tom chewed and swallowed, "....the way..." he chewed with a set of open lips. "I see it, man," he swallowed the rest of the food then burped out loud with a giggle.

Stu looked up with a smile and a chuckle to see Tom and Frank. "I think you need a pair of seeing glasses, bro, and a drooling bib, Thomas. Put an order of baby bibs for baby bro, Frank." Frank reached and wiped a runny nose as Stu reached and consumed the morning meal without vomiting from the red swollen face of Mangrove.

"Got twenty/fifteen vision, Stu. And I'm only staying if Mangrove leaves," Tom jabbed the fork with a sour frown at Frank. "I don't wanna get sick, man." Tom stood and side stepped with the food tray closer to the northern end of the table near Austin, sitting and ate the food.

"Sit, pup," Austin held a cup of cold chocolate milk, monitoring the actions and reactions of the Quartet, four men of equal talents with varied skills.

The Quartet consisted of Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV, the leader and boss; Franklin Mangrove, III, the CPA and physician; Stuart Thant Gage, III, the engineer and muscle. And Thomas Edison Sawyer, III was the head attorney and jokester.

As chief executive officer of Quartet Associates, Austin established the same social rules that were dictated by his dad for the same wayward wandering wild-ass youngest Band of Brothers.

There was no solo performance, the number one rule. The four men were the four owners of a multi-billion dollar international security company Quartet Associates which had been dubbed by a set of media types, fools, and enemies as Quartet Assholes, making Austin believe the honorific title fits, occasionally. No brother traveled alone, not even to the boring and mundane Saudi Arabia legal law cases where Tom had to preside over when a QA client broke a law, national or international.

Rule number two, there were no dynamic duo performances like the pair of super hero antics of Batman and Robin of the 1960's fantasy television program.

Rule number three, there were no trio performances like the three stooges. An old black and white comedy Hollywood program played in 1950s, where the three brothers caused trouble, made trouble, and stayed in trouble from beginning to end of the old television show.

The Band of Brothers attended all events, such as, social, professional, and public together as a four-some like a quartet unless they lounged at home or on vacation with an army of secretly hidden QA bodyguards. After all QA was a body guard security company, so the brothers and families came, first and foremost.

However, Austin and his brothers could care of themselves, without the QA bodyguards, especially after the training sessions in martial arts, weapon shooting, and hand-to-hand combat clashes with Gage. Stu did not make the fitness workouts fun or dainty more like daunting and exhausting. Austin ached for two solar days and moonlight nights within his skeleton bones that he didn't know existed after Stu's tosses, throws, and punches.

Austin stood five feet and eleven inches tall, or in this case, short compared to his non-biological brothers. He was the shortest, the oldest, and the leader of Quartet, holding the same position in the old band of brothers like his biological dad, his biological grandfather, and his biological great grandfather Berrington before him. Austin possessed numerous college degrees, consisting of a bachelor's, a master's, and a law degree from the Miami-Dade University School of Law.

And he dressed casual.

The official dress code of South Florida was casual.

Austin found a wool business suit hot and constricting on his muscular frame, favoring the physical body frame of his father with a pair of long thin legs, a short waist, and a well-rounded chest that was filled with muscles, where the muscles bulged down to his wrists. He weighed in at one hundred eighty pounds with a head of cropped black colored wavy hair that was parted on a left side, a pair of silver eyeballs and a pair of almond-shaped eye sockets. He displayed a triangular face with a tone of suntan golden tinted skin, a pair of high cheekbones, and a high forehead. A cute cliff chin cut across the turtleneck shirt, since Austin liked to wear the turtleneck style and fit. No neck ties. No tie pins. No collars. Austin wore a turtleneck during winter, summer, spring, and fall season, except when he was outdoors and replaced it with a short sleeved shirt.

Austin paired a dark or a white turtleneck with an alternate dark or white pair of trousers and a matching or a contrasting dark or white sports wool jacket. The casual jacket possessed his Ghost, the official hand pistol of Quartet Associates for shooting the enemy or any other person daring to piss him off at the moment.

Tom mouth spat food across the plate and the table, pointing a fork of food at Austin and Stu. "Ya'll are all blind with fucking love. Frank's shitting contagious."

Austin slightly grinned with a mouth of food at Tom's ugly social manners, not fearing a contagious virus from Frank, either. He chewed and swallowed the food, looked down to review the business notes, so he could finish the current affair, before the lunch meal. There were numerous business items to assign and more work, this afternoon, coming from his personal business task list. He exhaled. "This morning, we're firming up the plans for the gigantic annual Quartet Associate's family and friend picnic at the Miami Zoo."

"Food, I'm there. When?" Tom mouth spat food particles and continued to chew with an open mouth.

"October," Austin said.

"I'm hungry now for lunch. Order something good, Stu, for our lunch," Tom swallowed the food with a grin, showing off some food particles that were glued to his white pearly teeth.

"Ya got fingers and a cell phone, Tom. Order your own damn lunch or hop down to our nice delicious cafeteria on the twenty fifth floor for free grub." Stu typed on the laptop without viewing Thomas.

"Frank..." Austin read the business note paper.

I sneezed exactly as my name was called and then cleaned both my mouth and my nose with the used handkerchief.

Berrington turned and smiled to see the bald head of Gage. "Stu, please meet with Mrs. Appleton today at two to finalized the picnic details."

"Done!" Stu continued to listen and type on the laptop, accepting all work assignments as needed from the boss Austin.

Austin turned and smiled to see the blonde hair roots on Sawyer. "Tom, can you meet with Mrs. Ware about the art work for the..."

"I can do that, Austin." I gurgled with resentment at Berrington, giving my assignments away to incompetence Gage.

Austin turned and nodded with a grin to Mangrove. "All right, Frank," he turned and smiled to see the blonde hair roots on Sawyer. "Tom, can you..."

"No!" Tom looked up and mouth spat more food particles across the table, shaking his bangs.

"No!?" Austin frowned at Tom.

"Ya didn't hear the question, bro." Stu continued to listen and type with a smile and a chuckle as Tom liked to annoy Austin at each morning meeting, as usual.

He frowned. "I'm busy, Austin. I got asswipe legal cases and shit dripping down my butthole." Tom reached and buttered the toast, opening a mouth, stuffing it whole onto a pink tongue, chewing with an open mouth.

"I can do it." I wiped and cleaned the dripping snot from a right nostril with the used cloth.

Austin turned with a sigh and a worried brow to see a red-faced Mangrove from the cold virus. "Frank, there's lots of work in acquiring and selecting the art pieces, the music scores, and coordinating the stage dancers for the picnic. Do you feel well enough to tackle that?"

I exhaled with a huff of sour breathe, blinking open and shut a set of watery eyelids. "Of course, I do, I'm the Renaissance man in the Quartet."

"You are not." Tom looked up and mouth spat the food particles, splattering them across the plate, the table, and the floor.

I turned and frowned at Tom. "Yes, I am. Renaissance means 'rebirth' in architecture, dance, literature, painting, philosophy, science, technology, and warfare for a certain time period roughly between the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries of planet Earth's world history. The movement becomes the bridge between the barbarians and the scholars."

Tom turned and jabbed a dirty fingernail of food stains at Austin and Stu with a laugh. "Goody good, then allow me to clarify from Franklin's whining which means, we are the barbarians."

"Frank's the scholar." Stu looked up with a smile and a nod to see Frank, since Gage didn't like to take intellectual sides with either brother. However, Stu enjoyed taunting the good doctor when necessary, since Tom was winning the verbal debate, this bright perky morning.

"I graduated college." Tom frowned to Stu.

Stu looked down and shook a bald skull with a grin to the laptop, "That's very debatable, Thomas," typing.

"Shut up, Stu!" Tom frowned and sucked on a fork load of eggs.

I said. "I represent the change in all the rebirth topics within the twenty first century. I am the social bridge between my brothers, who sometimes enjoy too many barbaric acts of violence while some of my brothers are more comfortable displaying the gentle civil niceties of South Florida."

"Who's got them civil niceties in the Quartet, Master Franklin?" Stu typed with a smile and a chuckle.

"Ain't me, you or him, over there?" Tom jabbed a dirty food stained fingernail at Austin last. Berrington was not nice to you for one millisecond unless you were a gawd damn pretty naïve and innocent female. He said without spitting food. "Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo are termed Renaissance men. Frank believes himself part of this historically elite group. I guess he got regenerated somewhere in space and time between Moses and Queen Victoria's royal reign," he laughed then bit into the toast.

Stu looked up with a smile, enjoying the debate while pissing Sawyer off. "The era of culture development encompassed a revival of learning and educational reform for all peoples of all nations, Thomas. Frank feels that he has to always teach, correct, and train his uncivilized brothers' bad habits and bad manners. You know keep us in line, right, Franklin?" He reached and lifted the tea, sipping on the hot brew.

"Excellent analogy, Stuart!" I blinked open and shut a set of itchy eyeballs with a stream of tears.

"Shut up, Stu!" Tom chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown.

I said. "Great men are born by chance, not luck. This brilliant sentence is quoted by Jacob Burckhardt inside the novel The Republics: Venice and Florence."

Stu turned and pointed with a nod and a smile to each brother, "We are great men."

Tom jabbed a food stained fingernail with a sour frown at Stu. "Not you, Stu, Frank's talking about Medici, the ruler of Florence and a billionaire..."

"You do not know the money factor of his wealth, Tom." I wiped my nose with the used handkerchief again.

"Could be? Anyways, he's the Father of the Arts in the country of Italy, commissioning large sums of money to other talented artists, such as, da Vinci, Botticelli, and Michelangelo, who's born in Tuscany. Money makes any one talent's great. Geez, you're the 'return man,' Franklin," he chuckled with his brothers and then chewed the food, standing and swung around to the food buffet table for a second helping of breakfast.

Stu typed with a smile. "Money makes the world go round and round and round..."

"The lawyer has a point." Austin enjoyed hearing the hot academic debate between Tom and Frank like always. He needed to separate the two pups at next breakfast meeting, before they bit and torn flesh, drawing red blood.

I was thoroughly annoyed with my person for losing a classic simple academic argument with the genius lawyer. I purposefully cited blame on a simple common cold, affecting my gray matter, contributing to a slow mental thought processing pattern. However, I was correct in my assumption about the Renaissance era and the talented men. I just needed to study and collect more documented information from my historical text books.

Tom shouted from the buffet table, filling a second plate of food. "Other historians theorize and I quote, these great men rose due to the prevailing cultural discussions of poetry, art, music, science, language, literature, religion, philosophy and politics." He slowly turned with a new plate of food, moving back to the new assigned post around the conference table near Austin and sat, eating.

"Politics, another dirty work," Stu shook his baldness, eating.

"Dirty word!" I turned and frowned to Stu.

Stu chewed and swallowed with a nod. "Money and politics are both dirty words. I challenge that debate, Frank..."

"Enough, pups." Austin said, finishing the day's assignments, before he dined the dinner meal with a new lady, this evening.

I pointed down with a worried brow to the daily newspaper. "Back to the kidnappings..."

"Back to breakfast..." Tom stabbed the food with the food a smile and a chuckle.

"Back to my spectacle golf game on the seventh hole..." Stu typed and listened with a smile and a chuckle.

"Stu!?" I frowned.

"What!?" Stu continued to type and smile, not paying attention to annoying Frank.

I exhaled. "When are you going to question the nursing staff at Charity South Miami Hospital, regarding the numerous kidnappings that are mentioned in today's newspaper? Least I mention before, the six kidnappings have been headlined for four days, now..."

"That's not on the agenda for today, Frank. Your cold's affected your brain cells, man. Go home!" Tom mouth spat food particles over the plate and the table, chewing and swallowed the food.

"Did you hear me, Stuart? Did you contact Chief Leo Trilling of the Miami-Dade police department?" I frowned then coughed, slapping a hand over my parted lips and my runny nose.

"What for again, Franklin?" Stu turned and chewed with an open mouth like Tom to annoy Mangrove.

"The targeted nursing staff, I have investigated and then attached with my hand written investigative report. I wrote about three possible suspects that I found on the nursing floors, who hopefully pinpointed and performed the multiply murder baby killings at Charity South Miami Hospital." I exhaled.

"O, that one." Stu smiled and shoved more food, chewing and staring at Frank.

"Did you give Chief of Police Trilling my data? Is this a correct assumption, Stuart?" I questioned, ignoring the plate of food as Stu ignored my request, eating the breakfast meal.

"Do you know that these two American words come from the root word 'assume,' an ass of me and you? Ya get it, Frank?" Tom laughed and pointed with a food stained fingernail at Frank. "You're an asshole, Frank."

"Yeah, tomorrow, Frank." Stu smiled and shoved more food into a mouth, winking at Mangrove.

"Tomorrow, what Stuart?" I exhaled and wiped the snot from a runny nose.

"Yeah, tomorrow, I'll ask Trilling about your hand written investigative report. Okay, Frank?" Stu reached and lifted, sipping the tea.

"Why not today, Stuart?" I frowned.

"I'm busy." Stu stabbed the food with a fork.

"New clubs!?" Tom grinned with a laugh.

Stu turned and nodded with a wink and a grin to Tom. "Yeah, I got a golf game with Jace. Are you interested in a quick game of eight holes, Tom? There's one more spot tee off at five."

"What did the police department say, Stuart?" I frowned at Gage.

"Drop it, Frank! This ain't our case." Tom stabbed a fork into the food, staring with a sour frown at Frank.

"Aren't the Coral Gables police detectives personally handling all the criminal cases, Stu?" Austin said to end Frank's nosy meddling of a non-Quartet affair.

Frank slammed the newspaper over the table surface with a huff of annoyance. "Stuart, I'm convinced that one of the staff members inside the Charity nursery ward is doing the dirty deed."

"Ridicule, Frank." Tom shook his bangs, chewing the food.

I turned and frowned to Sawyer. "No, this is not ridicule, Tom. Jace agrees with me."

"A nurse is taking the babies. How does that happen, Frank?" Stu chewed.

"I don't know how, who, or when. I don't know all the answers. But I do have some clues, which I want to share with the Coral Gable police task force on the baby killings." I turned without nodding to Stu as my nose continued to drip and drain clear snot.

"Ya got a suspect along with those clues, Frank?" Tom sipped the coffee.

"No one and every one is a suspect." I grinned and gurgled, clearing a tight throat.

"Did Holmes or Sherlock quote that catchy phrase, Stu?" Tom turned and winked with a giggle to Gage.

Stu continued to eat and chew with an open mouth at Frank. "Don't know. Don't care." He lifted and sipped the warm green tea.

"What does Jace conclude, Frank?" Tom chewed and stared at Mangrove.

"He's clueless." I frowned.

"Just like the police," Austin stared with a stern face to Frank, wanting Mangrove to end the non-Quartet business item, not on his agenda.

"Just like every medical, financial, and law officer in metro city Miami, Austin." Stu turned and nodded to Austin.

"One of the employed nurses is the one taking the newborns, Austin." I exhaled.

Tom grinned, "Fine, prove it, Frank?"

"I documented all my factual medical and legal information for all the baby kidnappings at the various Charity Hospitals throughout South Florida inside my hand written investigational report. I gave my official report to Stuart for delivery to Chief of Police Trilling for more police interrogation." I frowned.

Stu turned and dropped a mouth to Frank. "Ya interviewed the baby's parents, Frank?"

"Of course not, I spoke with the attending physician, who delivered the missing baby." I turned and stared at Austin.

"Stay out of trouble, Frank." Tom giggled and wiggled a finger at Frank.

"Dr. Mangrove, with all due respect, Charity knows about the infants and is doing their job, not ours." Stu stabbed the food, lifting to an open mouth and chewed.

"I concur. This is not our job. However, I'm a physician. My medical knowledge of the missing babies can provide vitally important data to Chief Trilling for investigation and possible person of interest questioning." I frowned.

"Yeah, yeah, Trilling got your hand written investigational report, Frank." Stu turned and wiped his hands, typing on the laptop.

"You did not do as I had asked, Stuart Gage." I dropped my mouth.

Tom turned and laughed to Austin. "Do you note when Frank's pissed off at one or each one of his brothers? He uses your full Christian name instead of your shorten version. That's how you can tell Franklin is lying, too." He turned and laughed at Mangrove. "That's not very Christian there, Frankie boy," giggling.

"I gave your unconfirmed kidnapping plot to Chief Police Trilling. He's looking into it, Frank." Stu typed with a sour frown.

Tom chewed and swallowed with a sour frown. "Stop it, Frank. This ain't our case. We ain't police detectives. We're..."

"...billionaires. I know the drill, Tom." I sneezed, covering an open mouth and a runny nose of snot with the breakfast napkin.

"Back to business," Austin exhaled.

"What fucking business?" Tom chuckled and chewed.

"My golf..." Stu smiled.

I swiftly stood, rattling the dishes on my end of the table, exhaling with a huff of disappointment. "I have an appointment. Please excuse me."

"Where? Who? Why? When? How much, Mangrove?" Stu turned and narrowed his eyelids at Frank.

I turned and scanned each brother. "A personal matter..."

"He's looking for trouble." Tom stood from the chair for a third plate of food.

"And he's going find it. Frank, this isn't our affair. Quartet Associates is our territory, not Charity Hospital. You should let the Charity Supermen handle this. It's their problem." Stu turned to type with a sour frown.

"Number one rule is no solo performances, Franklin." Tom stood and shouted from buffet table.

"Frank, stay of trouble or I beat your ass." Austin cuts the food with the utensils.

"Roger will copy," I reached and grabbed the newspaper and my notes, back stepping from the conference table and turned, swinging to the door, moving away from my annoying brothers and exited the conference room.

City of South Miami (three miles west from Coral Beach)

Charity South Miami Hospital

7:38 a.m.

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

I drove and parked my luxury sedan inside the outdoor parking lot Hospital. The hospital was the site of a series of continuous crimes against all the newborn babes in the manger.

The Quartet should be involved or more to the point, the entire police force of both Coral Gables and the Miami-Dade City should be heavily involved. And the agencies f the FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, and all the Charity supermen should all be intimately involved in this life and death matter.

I couldn't answer that damn question, but I was going to expose that person and maybe directly use my Ghost to punish him or her for the deadly crime, without the law authorities or the Quartet. I snorted then sneezed, clearing off the hanging clear mucus from a right nostril. I cleaned it with the used handkerchief, replacing it back into the breast pocket of my jacket.

I turned and strutted through the emergency room archway, spinning around the wall corner and entered a side door that identified the physician's lounge, seeking Jace, an ally.

Jace was suspicious, as well, following his own medical gut instincts and gut feelings about the kidnapper. On the other hand, Jace had a physician office with hundreds of really sick and dying patients to attend which required his time in a short twenty four day.

I moved and entered into the physician's scrub room, stopping in place, exchanging my business suit, borrowing a white laboratory coat of Charity South Miami Hospital that was embroidered in black colored letters on a left pocket cup. I reached and grabbed an empty clipboard that was filled with a set of lined notebook paper, appearing as a fake medical intern.

I snorted then sneezed out while clearing a set of nasal mucus from a left nostril, cleaning with the used handkerchief again.

My newly crafted medical intern costume would be a pretty good disguise for the annual fun Halloween party this year that was hosted by Stu and Gracie.

I turned and exited the physician scrub room, through the closed archway and slowly paced, watched, observed, and scanned for an irregular incident of a strange person or an odd behavior pattern of a killer of newborn babies along the hallway and the rooms of the hospital.

7:42 a.m.

Emergency room setting

The ED department was busy with numerous patients, consisting of gunshot wounds, car crashes, broken arms, crying children, and whimpering adults along with the other normal urgent clinical emergency cases.

I remembered my emergency experience from my old medical school days, experiencing the same kind of rough time from my Quartet asshole moment with my brothers. I had scanned all the remaining hospital departments, consisting of the radiology, laboratory, medical records, orthopedic cast room, admitting office, information Desk and reception lobby.

All the hospital spaces were clear of trouble, since I was hunting a troublemaker of newborns.

I advanced up to the second floor, scanning all the patient clinics. The in-house hospital clinics treated any medical aliment from a set of diabetics to a series of endocrine problems for any visiting adults and children and then prescribed a clinical medication for the diagnosis.

The space was clear too of trouble.

Then I stomped up to the third floor level ambulatory surgery center and reception lobby, where the family unit of the sick patient worried and waited inside the lounge space between the soda and snacks machines. I had been stopped by a family, inquiring if Granny was All right. I immediately directed the worried clan back to the ambulatory desk clerk to ask about their loved ones. I swiftly departed the ambulatory surgery center, moving down the pink-painted corridor into the critical care unit where numerous head injuries received one-on-one nursing observation care and medical treatment. The quiet space held sick patients with an air breathing machine that hissed and popped, indicating the loved one was alive.

The hospital space was clear of trouble too.

Fourth floor Nursery Ward setting

7:43 a.m.

She patiently watched and waited as a fake Charity Hospital registered nurse, swiftly grabbed and took the newborn baby from the tender loving care of her mother inside the private hospital room and turned, moving to the closed archway.

The door opened and closed.

The fake nurse moved to the isolated and unguarded nursery ward, noting the birth count was low, lower than last month.

The disappearance of six newborns throughout the Charity Healthcare System between the city of Miami Shores and the city of Kendall would prompt any mother-to-be to carefully choose the safest hospital for a new little one.

The fake nurse entered the nursery ward, fussing with the little monster and gently rested the newborn inside one of the empty bassinets and un-wrapped the blanket. She checked for any yellow poopy messy inside the tiny paper diaper and rewrapped the baby, posing the baby on the stomach and quickly punctured a baby ankle with the tap needle. The natural drug made the newborn docile, since the fake nurse could not afford an alarm of a crying infant inside her folded arms. The infant was not her biological baby but another female's.

The fake nurse lifted and held the baby from her breasts, turning and moved through the archway and exited the nursery ward like it was the ending of her night shift. She turned and moved toward a different hallway that led from the nursery ward.

I took the elevator and traveled up to the fourth floor and exited onto the maternity obstetrics. I turned and moved, stopping and stood in front of the window of pink and blue bassinettes with the precious newborns that was delivered yesterday and this morning. Fatherly urges made me think about Misty Marie.

Misty talked about becoming a mommy-to-be all the time. She burst with joy and happiness every time her and her Quartet sisters visited the local baby superstore on Miracle Mile after lunch meal at Quartet Associates with the husbands and the future fathers-to-be.

I smiled, admiring the little tikes.

The Quartet wanted a set of children: the next generation Band of Brothers.

However, today was not going to be that day as I frowned with frustration.

Austin held the brothers' dream for ransom, since he still hadn't selected a proper mate, only an improper tramp. Softly chuckling, I needed to search for a proper tea party for a lady for Austin, not a witch hunt for a bitch.

I swung around and halted inside the hallway, noting the odd behavior of the nurse. She wore a set of standard pink scrubs with a set of baby blue teddy bears for working on a clinical nursery ward. However she was carrying the baby rough, tight, and hidden.

The nurse was not the biological mother and was not delivering the newborn to the biological mother either. It appeared like the night nurse was leaving the nursery ward at the end of her shift.

It was before eight o'clock which started the day shifts for the morning staff of nurses.

I traced her body movement, looking through the nursery glass window, pretending to jot down a set of important medical notes with a lead pencil onto the paper clipboard like a medical physician.

I desired a mobile telephone or a beeper for a better presentation of a working physician on the nursing unit, leaving all my electronic equipment, my street clothes, my shoes, my wallet, and my money inside the physician locker of my good friend Jace.

Jace would discover Frank's personal possessions and jump to the same conclusion, hopefully paging Frank over the hospital communication system, if the busy world renowned researcher wasn't treating a sick patient on the oncology cancer unit. I suddenly realized my grave error. First, I had found the kidnapper. Second, I was alone without all and any assistance.

The fake nurse was making her move, stealing another newborn infant.

I could not call the security unit of the hospital or my brothers for immediately seizure and help, since I was not a proper clinical staff member or a medical intern of Charity South Miami Hospital. And I was not a real doctor in voice, only on paper.

She was not doing anything medically wrong or illegal but holding a baby within her two arms.

I recalled Austin's verbal warning for getting into trouble. If I was wrong, then Old Man would perform a shit fit on my gray mind, since I was always the good boy within the Quartet, since the first hour of my birth. I was known as a calming conformist, not a rumbling rebel like Tom, or an inquisitive inventor like Stu.

So I made an executive decision.

The out of place nurse moved through the nursery ward, holding a waddled newborn between her arms, slowly strolling down a busy corridor and turned to the left to an exit staircase.

I was correct, hearing my gut instinct, ignoring my brain warning, since I was witnessing another baby kidnapping.

The rude hospital security team would question Frank as he was dressed like a fake hospital operating surgeon without a se of the proper and legal hospital identification, representing the hospital and his person. And Austin would get hornet mad on the ass of Frank while Stu would smile and snicker at Frank inside a police department lock up, eventually bailing Mangrove out of jail for fraud. Then Tom would never ever forget within his brilliant mind the cosmic illegal maneuver, even if he does get Frank off scotch free of every single or multiply criminal or civil charge the Charity supermen and superwomen might press.

I paced three spaces behind her and turned to the left, moving down the same hallway, listening to her foot falls. I could see an edge of a gray side door open, witnessing an array of bright sunshine that reflected off a pink-painted wall and the gray tile flooring.

She had entered the emergency stairwell without triggering the alarm for some reason.

I ran down the hallway and slammed into the closed door with a grunt, back stepped and opened the door, stomping down the steps of the staircase with a sneer after her, knowing that I did not possess a phone, a gun, or a plan.

My luxury sedan was parked inside the secondary parking spot which was across the city street of the hospital. I didn't use the convenient hospital parking garage, in case I was recorded and monitored by the hospital security cameras. I didn't bother to mention purposefully to my nosy brothers before finishing breakfast at the business meeting, where my impromptu personal appointment was located or with whom.

Stu could access the hospital camera immediately, spotting the luxury sedan of Frank inside the main parking deck and then inform Tom for some shitty annoyance. Then Tom would run on a new pair of leathers and rat-tattled to Austin. Next, Austin would order Stu to find and bring Frank into his throne office and then beat Frank's ass. End of story!

Emergency room parking lot setting

7:48 a.m.

The emergency door opened.

The fake nurse bolted from the opening and rushed to a parked car inside the emergency room parking lot for patients, family members, and visitors.

The door closed shut.

The emergency door of the stairwell opened again.

I stood inside the archway, shading my eyeballs and saw the fake nurse.

The fake nurse entered the car and started the engine, driving away with the newborn babe from the hospital, turning and traveling south onto US Highway One.

I gasped with worry, running and slammed into the parked old gray colored van, moving around the engine hood and touched the door handle and twisted a wrist Open.

The van driver of the hospital van had stopped inside the emergency room parking lot, delivering patient blood and skin specimen bags into the sentinel laboratory for spinning, processing, testing, and shipping.

I slid inside the driver's seat and ignited the engine, closing the door, since the van driver had left the van keys inside the ignition. I turned the vehicle and followed the fake nurse, moving onto US Highway 1, tailing and spying on the babe.

Van ride south on US Highway One

8:01 a.m.

I screeched the four tires, riding right behind her tail lights. The babe didn't suspect a vehicle tail, since the fake nurse thought that she was free and clear to steal another baby from Charity South Miami Hospital.

Miami was a big bad metro city within the US State of Florida, where thieves, murderers, and assholes lived and worked on an hourly basis. I was another asshole, driving around inside a beat up van on a busy eight lane highway in the cool weather of a hot day in Miami, where one million people lived without a five mile radius of the epicenter.

I sped up and then slowed down, working both the gas pedal and the brake pedal. I followed an older four door sedan model that was painted in red but dulled down into a light orange color from the hot weather and nasty Florida winds that was filled with sea salt.

The fake nurse drove careful and cautious with the newborn baby as she was the kidnapper of previous missing babies but for some reason did not ransom the infants back for money from the birthed hospital or the biological parents. And the missing babies never come back home to the hospital or the biological parents either. And the babies hadn't been discovered either.

So, the only obvious answer was a slave trader, since all the missing babes had been sold to the highest bidder for US dollars and then had been flown out of the United States.

I exhaled with a huff of angry at Stu for not kicking Trilling's asshole as Trilling was performing a lousy detective job of investigating this ongoing death crime. I had warned Stu, Tom, and Austin of the deadly consequences.

Austin would not allow Frank to visit the police either, since Stu was the designated the law enforcement officer and deputized by Coral Gables police department for the protection of citizens, including little innocent babes.

Tom was very sympathy to both the concerns and the worries of Frank like Frank's devoted wife Misty. However, Tom had learned to obey Austin's commands even when he didn't want too only from a past few experiences of bruising pain and great suffering at Austin's fingers. This was the only method that kept silly Sawyer in line, since Austin was both nasty and vicious when drawn.

City of Florida City (27 miles due south from South Miami)

Roberts Park

Grass setting for dogs and children

8:32 a.m.

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

I followed her car toward the end of US Highway One which turned into the Homestead Turnpike expressway that led down to Florida City. The Homestead Turnpike was dotted with scattered cheap orange and red colored motels, greasy fired food eateries, and RV Camper grassy and utility parking sites for visitors and guests of the Sunshine State.

Florida City was quite a ride from the main metropolitan city of Miami. The city was populated with 8,000 folks, living near the Atlantic Ocean shoreline rather than the farm city of Homestead. Florida City grew crops of potatoes, tomatoes, squash, Florida native orange fruits, and fresh vegetables along with offering a ton of beach hotels and visitor tourist facilities. The west side of the Homestead Turnpike ran through the Everglades National Park with gators and snakes.

Florida City was the last civilized town before a driver ventured down to the Florida Keys via the long bridge.

The fake nurse slowed the car and turned to the right into a community dog and people park that was filled with green grass, low children swings, and plenty of small wildlife.

I slowed and turned to the right, viewing a scene without residents or placements of mammals. I usually passed Florida City, speeding down US Highway One to Florida Keys for both vacation and fun, not danger.

The car sedan stopped. The door opened. The fake nurse slid out of the driver's seat and spun around, opening the rear door and grabbed the babe, turning and rushed across the nicely manicured grass toward a setting of low bushes and tall trees, a rendezvous place between her and a slave trader for the exchange of the babe for money.

I did not care about the nurse or the slaver, only for the babe's safe return to the worried parents, noting the nurse, the dog park, her car, and the future face of the slaver. I didn't have a weapon, a phone or a plan, but I was a smart ass physician like Tom liked to compliment, too many times.

I sneered and then gurgled from a tight wet throat, using my bare hands plus a tree limb or a metal swing seat from the child's play set to save the babe and kill the fake nurse or the slave trader.

She ran and disappeared around the playground children's fun slide.

I killed the engine and scooted from the van, leaving the door open. I stood and stared at an empty parking lot, a grove of tall trees, row of colorful flowers, and manicured green grass.

Pain had registered inside my brain cells for some curious and unexplained reason.

I lifted and grabbed my forehead as my head ached. My eyelids blinked with streaking white stars as I slowly stumbled down onto my kneecaps.

Dungeon setting

8:46 a.m.

Darkness engulfed the ceiling, looking up with a pair of blinking blurry eyeballs as my eyeballs focused on the high object. My nostrils inflamed from an anesthetic odor. I rested inside a hospital bed on the VIP unit of Charity Coral Gables. My brothers had found me as relieve flooded a weary mind and a worried heart.

I folded up right and sat back onto my elbows inside a lounge chair, scanning a tiny room with confusion. The room was illuminated by an array of yellowish-white fire of tall wax candles. The room appeared like a cave or an underground prison or a castle dungeon.

A dungeon was a place where prisoners and things were kept, especially out of sight.

I breathe musty and dunk air into both my nostrils and tasted salty water on a tip of my tongue.

Florida City was located atop a limestone ridge called the Miami Rock Ridge, extending north from beach of North Miami down south into the Everglades swamp. The ridge of limestone served as a slightly elevated by .0001 inches of ground plateau within the vertical land mass and extended northeast to southwest across the city. The east position of the natural ridge was a marshland coastal green glade that was called the East Glade Marshland, giving way to a mangrove swamp.

I whispered for my eardrums only, "The original of my ancestral name, how ironic, Dr. Mangrove?"

A mangrove swamp consisted of black, red, or white colored roots, sucking up the fresh water like a spider with a set of numerous legs and a leafy green head. The soil inside the swamp consisted of limey gray gravel that was layered with a set of tiny black pebbles underneath the water which was called the Biscayne Marl.

The marl was dumped and filled with Mother Nature's waste product of coral rock. The coral rock was quarried for the human building designs, such like, columns, balustrades, moldings, and water fountains for numerous homes and businesses like the four pink tinted water fountains at the Quartet Tower.

Presently, this segment of the land mass served as rows of residential homes within the small town of Florida City. This was one of the many homes on the edge of Everglades Park that was built on top of a ridge of Miami grayish-white limestone. The entire flat landscape of South Florida was decorated in shades of gray with shallow and poorly drained bedrock over fresh water and tidal marshes.

"This hidden discovery is probably worth millions, if promoted and advertised properly," saying for my eardrums only.

I reached and touched the moist gray coral stone wall that was layered with porous and permeable gray limestone water-bearing rock. The coral stone was mined from the limestone coral bedrock, looking ghostly gray with an array of tiny black specks that was created millions of years ago within the ocean depths.

Then I cut my eyeballs down to see a matching gray coral stone floor. The floor was composed of slimy golden sand and crashed white golden shell dust, covering the dry brown prickly tree pine needles.

My cave was both breezy and cool with dead cells and skins of turtles, lizards, and frogs in the immediate occupied spaces, who did not survive without a breakfast tray of live insects.

The fake nurse possessed a head of black colored hair, a pair of brown eyeballs, and a tone of olive tinted skin as she was twenty something years old. She stood with her arms down at the side at the bottom of the limestone steps, saying in perfect English diction without a foreign accent and a smile. "Thank you for coming to my rescue."

I lounged inside the chair and asked with intrigue as a famous fourth of the Quartet, "Do you recognize me?"

She said without an emotion or a facial expression. "I am very pleased that you have come to my aid. You are a physician."

"To your aid as in disaster, are you injured?" I frowned.

"No."

"Are you ill?" I exhaled.

"No."

"Then I don't think you need any medical aid." I smiled.

"Not I, my wards," she said without an emotion or a facial expression.

I frowned, "Wards!" My eyeballs followed the movements of the unknown babe.

She moved down from the three short stone covered steps on a pair of silent sandals toward a stone wall of strange dull lights and stranger dull sounds. The rear room encompassed the entire bottom half of Frank's cave. The limestone gray dull wall was slightly lit with a set of short fiery white flaming candles, not a set of electricity bulbs.

My heart raced and my pulse jumped. My nostrils flared with ghost-fright. I stood from the ratty lounge chair and turned, trotting and stood behind her ass with a worried brow. "Who are you?"

She glided and stopped in front of a dull lacey trimmed long curtain, standing on the side without an emotion or a facial expression. "Through these curtains, you will find out who I am. You are my rescuer."

I watched her slide the curtain across the old metal rack in silence and re-focused my vision onto the objects. My eyeballs bulged with horror and my nostrils inflamed with the stinky smell. I exhaled with a huff of horror, whispering my eardrums only, "Jeezus."

The object was a king-sized naked bed mattress that was filled with entities. That was the first impression within my brain cells. The entities appeared as once-upon-a-time-people without bone mass but tons of flesh.

I visually picked out one or two eyelids movement, an open mouth for breathing, a sharp protruding nose bridge of bone, and no set of earlobes. The hair had grown over the bone skull and both earlobes as the long and overgrown hair was nicely tucked down into the throat and the neck muscles. Then the long hair flowed between the cracks of the covered bed sheets. The eye thingy was more atrocious and repulsive than any imaged Hollywood horror flick.

I stood slightly behind her next to the dull curtain, staring down at the three distinct-shaped yellowish-white things, not beings. The ugly things rested like a set of three softly cooked cobs of melted buttered yellow corn.

"My sisters," she stared down at her relatives without an emotion or a facial expression.

"Relatives or aliens!?" I chuckled down at the ugly things.

"These are my sisters. They have an illness. I require the services of a brilliant physician. You happen to find me, so I require you to attend to them."

I immediately feared with a dangerous predicament from the mysterious fake nurse, saying with a sour frown. "You require me to stop the illness and cure them."

"You are wrong. They are dying," she stared down at her relatives without an emotion or a facial expression.

"Good masters or mistresses put their suffering animals out of misery, because they love them," I chuckled.

"I love them. I need them. They are my family."

"Family!?" I parted my lips, staring down at the lumps of yellow flesh.

"Mother. Grandmother. Aunt."

"You are the biological daughter, granddaughter, and niece. They seem to be very old..."

"...106 years and growing older."

"Well, you are doing a good job of preserving your jelly molds," grinning.

"I require you to find another way to continue..." she swung around to face Frank without an emotion or a facial expression "...preserving the jelly molds."

"Another way, what way, babe?" I frowned into her young face.

She said without an emotion or a facial expression. "Another biological miracle beside the livers from newborns, I cannot continue to steal the babies. I will eventually be caught and captured and then imprisoned and then my family would starve to death and dead."

"The latter suggest is the mostest, bestest advice for the problem at hand, babe," I nodded with a chuckle.

"You have fallen into my two hands. You have been chosen to aid me, physician."

"Line from a Crouching Tigress..." I sniggered.

"You have seen the life forms and heard the data limit. You are dismissed. Your physician medical text books are located inside these book shelves against the wall between the partitions," she swung around to see her relatives without an emotion or a facial expression.

"You can ask for a ransom. I'll worth lots and lots of dollar bills," I nodded with a smile into the rear of her skull.

"Money does not interest me, only my family members."

"Then you need the services of a funeral director. Doctors can't raise the dead, babe," I chuckled.

"Death will eventually come to my ancestors. In the meantime, I require you find an antidote to their illness and stop the aliment."

I frowned down at the ugly things. "What are the clinical symptoms?"

"You cannot tell?"

I shook my skull, studying the new patients. "I am afraid not without a history of prior medical facts and maybe a complete physical workup with labs, x-rays, and blood samples..."

"Then, I am applying my own remedy, today. You will work towards a permanent antidote tomorrow," she swung around to face the archway and strolled forward on a pair of silent sandals to the side wall. The long metal counter held a brown colored basket. She jerked the pink blanket out from the basket and places the infant on top of the cold metal counter, striping off the tiny baby clothing with a rough hand tug. The newborn babe was nude and did not cry, mew or struggle.

I waited and watched in horror for the next step.

She reached and grabbed a scalpel, lifting and sliced the exposed abdomen of the newborn. Then she poked around the liver of the newborn with the sharp scalpel.

I whispered for my eardrums only, "Jeezus."

"The drug rendered the baby brain dead. She cannot feel at thing," she worked on the dead newborn without an emotion or a facial expression.

"Jeezus," I whispered for my eardrums only, watching her.

The newborn babe was only a few hours old and had descended right back into Almighty God's baby nursery within heaven by her precious guardian angel, representing same day of birth and death.

She lifted a tap needle like the one that Frank enjoyed using on his brothers, staring down at the dead infant. "Do not move. This tap needle contains a sedative for your comfort. You are my rescuer. You will help my sisters one way or my way."

I froze in my limbs and my toes. I could overpower the skinny female with my manly strength. However, in a struggle of fight for freedom, she only required one tight puncture onto my exposed naked skin from a neck down to a navel along with muscular sexy calves per Misty. Then I would painfully convulse into a coma-like body pose based on my previous bad luck experience in the pubic community park, this morning.

I horrifyingly stared at the barbaric medical procedure that was performed inside an underground dungeon.

She pushed away the tiny intestines of the baby out of the way, without a pair of sterile gloved hands and sliced out the pinkish brown liver organ from the dead newborn with the scalpel.

I whispered for my eardrums only, "Jeezus," I prayed for the baby's soul to ascend back into wonderful heaven and her soul to descend down into ghoulish hell.

She lifted out the tiny liver, moving the organ and hand squeezed the brown liquid from the tiny body part, collecting the delicate fallen droplets inside a large glass cup. She completely drained the liver of moisture and then replaced the abused organ back inside the dead body. She rewrapped the baby cadaver back inside the pink blanket, saying without an emotion or a facial expression. "My pets love small children to death."

I understood the death threat with a whisper for my eardrums only, "Pets!?"

She poured the liquid into a squeeze bottle and slowly swing around from the work station table to the mattress, and stopped, leaning down and cuddled the first grotesque thing. She lifted the squeeze bottle and poured the raw liver enzyme down an open mouth of the monster, gently rubbing the throat.

And then the thing coughed with life.

All her relatives were really alive, since I was not certain about it breathing air. But it lived.

She fed the other two relatives with the squeeze bottle of the liver enzyme.

"Jeezus," I whispered for my eardrums only, praying for a freak-ass lightning bolt to come from down God Almighty and zap right here on her spot, disintegrating her evil spirit.

She turned and stared without an emotion or a facial expression to Frank, "Liver juice."

I rambled without a reason or a cause or nervous about her pets. "The liver organ possesses regenerative properties for healing."

She stood from the bed mattress and turned around with a set of curled her lips without a smiling or a smirk, "I am right. You really are my rescuer."

"You are wrong," I whispered for my eardrums only.

She said to Frank. "Since ancient times, the liver has been known for its magical powers that only few healers know about. The organ has the ability to regenerate fully at hundred percent when over seventy five percent of the organ is internally damaged inside any healthy body. The newborn's liver contains immunities that were received from the womb of the carrying female with life generating properties, if given to a sick patient in a timely manner. I am the Healer. I tend to my sisters and their needs."

"Jeezus," I whispered for my eardrums only. The fake nurse had confessed both the kidnapping and killing of all the Charity Hospital newborn babes for maintaining her relatives' existence.

She said. "I bring the newborn body with the life properties to my sisters as needed. My people can live and survive for decades without interference from outsiders. I was born and have lived here in Miami all my life. My biological father and mother died of an unknown aliment when they moved here from my native country right after my birth. I inherited the task of transcendence."

"Transcendence!?" I turned and frowned down at the things.

"I am required to monitor the purpose. When the shell is exhausted, the purpose will ascend into happiness."

"Descend," I whispered for my eardrums the correct term of her new purpose with the hope that her and her relative souls go directly straight into hell first, bypassing heaven, the angels, Saint Peter, the Holy Spirit, Brother Jesus Christ, and Almighty God.

She said. "My sisters are in good health, at the moment. You are required to stop the illness. You are my rescuer."

I said very cautiously with a sneer. "I cannot do a thing for these your sisters. I am sorry. I am not the rescuer."

She had captured, sedated, warned, and threatened Frank two times, not counting the direct attack inside a public dog park with her secret drug. She was deadly serious about her 'transcendence' assignment of her relative things.

"I am not the physician. You are. There are medical books and clinical equipment devices along the south wall of your den for your use. I hope you succeed soon," she strolled ahead on a pair of silent sandals, exiting Frank's dungeon.

I turned with a sour frown and watched her disappear from my cave, exhaling with a huff of annoyance. I was trapped inside this shit hole, until I could brilliantly execute a physical game plan of escape from the babe, the dungeon, and some unseen exotic pets. I whispered for my eardrums only, "Jeezus." I had hundreds of questions for the babe to answer; instead I needed to assess my missing hospital scrubs plus Jace's laboratory coat.

And then I shivered inside my brief boxers.

Dungeon setting of Frank

8:50 a.m.

I turned and leaned over, jerking a tiny folded blanket from the foot of thing's mattress, covering my exposed delicate body parts and moved over a pair of naked toes to a wooden book shelf on the west side of the cave. The cave contained a ratty clothed lounge chair that was covered with a pretty mosquito net, a side table, a non-working lamp, and a large desk with a hard wooden non-padded desk chair. The office desk held lots of academic textbooks. The textbooks were overflowing over the wall shelf, onto the floor and against each stone wall.

I stopped and stood in place, lifting one of the heavier reference books. Each book came from one of the following locations a local high school, a college, or a public library. The manuals were entitled with the words: medicine, biology, or chemistry.

The corner wall nook held a barbaric laboratory setup with a set of chemistry slides and a stack of glass dishes for experimenting and testing out on a new antidote on her relative sisters. However, this round of doctoring was not getting graded, criticized, or critiqued instead I would get to live temporarily until I found a new medical treatment for immortality.

I chuckled, "Immortality." I sounded like Tom, using one of his popcorn bag pretend and make-believe science fiction terms from one of his numerous science fiction books. I exhaled with a huff of worry, wishing Tom were here.

I scanned the book shelf, noting that there were food items, a tray of cold beverages, a stack of porcelain cups, a column of paper plates, a single cloth napkin, or one single proper eating utensil, only a single plastic pitcher of warm room temperature water. I exhaled with a huff of hopelessness and held my breath, feeling angry, fury, revenge, and embarrassment while practicing my solo act when the rest of the Quartet finally arrived by helicopter for my brotherly rescue, very soon.

My brothers had figured out that I was missing, when I wasn't inside my lush posh thirty-third office desk, working on my accounting duties.

8:52 a.m.

Quartet Associates headquarters building

33rd floor business office setting

Chief Operating Officer Stuart Thant Gage, III

Hot temperatures with dull sunshine and cloudy

The landline rang.

Stu reached and slammed the speaker button with a stern face. "Yes, Madeline."

Her voice echoed inside his office. "Mrs. Appleton is here inside the Quartet Tower. She is waiting for you inside the twenty-first conference room."

Stu exhaled with a stern face. "Thank you, Madeline." He depressed the button.

The first guard with black hair stared with a laugh and a smile at the distorted face of Stu. "Why are you going down inside the lawyer's conference room? Is there a gun show today? I thought Tom hated guns."

Stu frowned. "Tom hates everything but science fiction crap. There's something to do with the annual picnic. Okay, we'll pick up tomorrow and schedule the new training classes for the class of newbies and the oldies. Thanks for the update," exhaling. "I gotta go and do this for the rest of the afternoon."

Both the guards stood with a smile. The first guard with black hair laughed. "Lucky, guy..."

The other guard with blonde hair laughed with a nod. "Unlucky, dude, I thought Mangrove handled all the social shit for the Quartet."

Stu stood with a nod and a sour frown. "He does or did. Now, I'm it today. So guys, do you got any type of special requests for the picnic in terms of food and entertainment? Since, I'm in charge, today," chuckling.

The first guard with the black hair laughed with a nod. "Yeah, I wanna a long table of rare filet mignon and a tray of cold Florida lobster tails with two cases of cold beer..."

"I like my filet mignon, well done." The other guard with the blonde hair frowned.

The first guard with the black hair frowned. "I don't."

The other guard with the blonde hair nodded with a laugh to his co-worker and Stu. "Then you can eat the lobster tails. I wanna row of sexy cheerleaders, watching me eat while enjoy their wiggling body parts with a musical rock and roll band for entertainment."

Stu laughed with a nod. "Shore thing, guys!"

The first guard with the black hair snorted at Gage, "Really, Stu?"

Stu nodded with a wink. "Really, I'm the sissy social direction today for the annual picnic. All the final plans have landed here, since Austin promoted me over Mangrove."

The other guard with the blonde hair laughed. "Mangrove will not be happy."

Stu frowned. "I don't give a fuck. Mangrove is never happy when money is spent, period," he back stepped from the office desk with a laugh and a grin, turned and followed behind the two guards.

The office door of Stu opened.

The two guards turned and marched down an empty hallway, moving back to the elevator carriage, finishing the daily work before going home to their families.

The office door on Tom opened.

Sawyer turned and moved down the hallway in silence with a stern face.

Stu stood inside his office archway, turning with a smile to see the noise and the brother. "Thomas, the man, I wanna see and greet, right now."

"No." Tom moved forward with a stern face toward Stu, shaking his bangs. He had been on an important legal law telephone call while Madeline answered the other incoming calls for Sawyer. Tom didn't like for a QA client or a QA enemy to wait on the phone for a voice message machine.

Stu frowned. "You don't hear the question."

He continued to move forward with a stern face toward Stu, "Hell, no."

Stu frowned. "You don't know the question."

He moved closer to Stu with a stern face, "Fucking hell, no."

Stu smiled. "I'm meeting Mrs. Appleton for the company annual picnic..."

He moved closer to Stu with a stern face, "Fucking-ass hell, no."

"We can pick out the color scheme, the theme of the picnic."

Tom passed Stu and the archway of Stu's office with a stern face. "Where the hell's Frank?"

Stu frowned, "Home sick."

Tom moved ahead to the lobby with a laugh and a nod, "Puking up green shitty turds."

Stu frowned at the back spine on Tom. "Turds come from down under like your ass and mine, Tom."

He laughed. "I bet Frank's turds are coming down from his ass and up from his nose. Did you see his two red and raw nose holes?" Tom slapped both hands over his dress shirt with a worried brow. "Man, I hope the motherfucker doesn't get me sick. Then you can beat the shit outta him for me..."

Stu smiled with a nod at the back spine on Tom. "I will gladly do that, if you will come with me to see Mrs. Appleton."

"Fucking, no," He moved ahead with a stern face to the reception lobby.

Stu said with a sigh to see the back spine on Tom and then smiled. "There's food..."

Tom skidded to a halt, swinging around with a smile to see Stu, "Food?"

Stu moved and stood in front on Tom with a smile and a nod. "Mrs. Appleton told me this morning on the phone that she has four walls of sample trays of food. We gotta figure out which food entrees for the annual picnic."

Tom spun around with a smile, patting his stomach, leading to the elevator carriage. "Food, I love food. She's on the twenty-first floor inside one of my law libraries, right?"

"Yeah," Stu dashed behind the ass on Tom with a smile and a nod to the elevator carriage also. He would not disturb Austin, since Austin did not like to be perturbed for any reason but an emergency or a killing.

Twenty-first floor law library setting

The four walls of the law library held rows of continuous shelving from the ceiling down to the floor. Each shelf held numerous books of legal law. Each study office desk had been shifted from a horizontal position into a vertical pose, surrounding the book shelves, appearing like an exhibition. On top of each table, there was a single extremely large canvas of a painted picture.

The door opened.

Tom entered and stopped a few feet inside the law library, turning with eyeballs and scanning the table with a sour frown, "Where's the gawd damn food?"

Stu entered and shoved Tom further into the room, wrapping an arm around the collar bone of Sawyer like a good friend, advancing both of them to a short and queen-sized elderly white haired lady in a long yellow dress. Gage stopped and stood in front of her with a smile. "Tom, this is Mrs. Appleton....'

Tom frowned. "Don't give..."

Stu squeezed an arm around the collar bone on Tom with a fake smile. "Don't give her a hard time, Tom. Frank would be very, very upset..."

"Where is Franklin?" Appleton turned with eyeballs and scanned the room of tables with the art work.

Tom laughed. "Frank is sh..."

Appleton returned her eyeballs to see Tom with a puzzled brow. "Beg pardon!"

Stu hugged Tom closer with a fake smile. "Frank is showered with his work. We are present and here to assist you, Mrs. Appleton."

Appleton nodded with a smile, holding both hands in front the skirt. "The Quartet has selected the beautiful landscape of the Miami Dade Zoo for your annual picnic. I represent the zoo committee from the campus who has been assigned to assist you with all the party preparations..."

Tom turned with eyeballs to see the art work on each table. "We paid for all this shitty stuff, right?"

She nodded with a smile to each brother. "Yes, we have received your full payment for the annual event. And we are so pleased that the Quartet has chosen the zoo as the sight of the annual picnic. Now, first, we must choose a color scheme. There is pink and yellow and blue..."

Stu held and hugged Tom, reaching and yanked the colored bowtie on the throat of Sawyer with a laugh and a smile. "That color coordinates with Tom's silly suit bowtie."

Tom wiggled side to side inside the tall and wide bones of Stu, without escaping, but sneered. "Where's the gawd damn food, Gage? My fucking nose holes don't smell food but your shitty ass cheap cologne, man?"

Stu shoved Tom to the side wall with a soft growl. Tom flew into the side table, knocking over the free standing art piece of numerous colors from Appleton with a huff. Gage faked a smile and a nod to the woman. "Mrs. Appleton, we agree with you that a color must be chosen for the Quartet annual picnic."

Appleton stood next to the table with a smile and a nod. "I have hired a team of local artists. They are fabulously brilliant..."

He laughed. "Fabulously brilliant, is that fucking word?" Tom rubbed his leg where the aching limb hit the table.

Stu back stepped with a fake smile, reaching over and grabbed, jerking the collar bone on Tom into his chest again with a fake smile. "Yes, it is fuckingly fabulously brilliant. I agree with you, again, Mrs. Appleton."

She smiled to Stu. "Which color scheme would you like, gentlemen?"

Stu exhaled with a huff of annoyance and darted a pair of eyeballs at each painted canvas of weird color combinations with frustration. "I..."

Tom wiggled away and moved ahead from Stu, since he wasn't getting out the law library until he had helped dumb shit Stu with the annual picnic decisions. He stopped and turned to see the first painted canvas, lifting and tapping a finger over his lips, shaking his head. He side stepped and examined each color scheme on the canvas with a confused brow. "Well, I like the some of the pretty colors, but not all of these shitty colors. And should we choose the theme of the picnic first, right before the shitty colors?"

Stu nodded with a grin, since Tom wanted to help. "Yeah, I agree."

Appleton nodded with a smile to each brother, pointing to the far wall. "That is an excellent idea, Thomas. Let us move over to the opposite wall. My team of artists has sketched out a mural of each theme scene for a visual and emotional display." She moved ahead, scooting around a single table with four chairs in the middle of the floor with a tray of breakfast pastries and a pitcher of water, a teacup of hot tea, a coffee pot of coffee. There were a tray of small dishes, numerous utensils, teacups, and napkins for mouth and finger usage, also.

Tom turned to face the opposite wall and moved ahead, scooting around the table and stopped, standing in front of the first canvas on top of an empty office desk that was against the wall with a smile and a nod. "A circus theme with a set of paper cut out wild yellow tigers, tan colored lions, and black colored bears. O my," giggling.

Stu turned to face the same wall and avoided the table, pulling up beside Tom, staring at the first theme canvas with a sour frown, exhaling with a sigh of annoyance. He didn't want to be here and didn't want to do this, either. He had wished that Frank wasn't sick and at home in bed. "What do you think, Tom?"

"This is an exciting colorful theme of greens, blue, yellows, and reds which matches the zoo park." Appleton moved ahead and stood behind the asses of both Tom and Stu.

Stu exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "I wished Frank had left some cliff notes..."

"Where is Franklin?" She turned and frowned at the open archway and the closed doors of the elevator carriage.

Tom laughed and stared at the first theme canvas. "Home pu..."

She turned and frowned at the back spines of Stu and Tom. "I beg your pardon."

Stu frowned and stared at the first theme canvas, "Home putting up with some of his accounting stuff."

Tom scooted over and stopped, staring at the next theme canvas on top of a second empty office desk against the wall with a giggle with a grin. "A medieval theme, ladies fair and silly knights with an array of fake pastel plastic swords. I don't know about this one either. You know young children can get hurt from a silly play plastic pointy sword, especially around a bunch of rough and tough boys like me. Right Stuart?"

Stu scooted closer to Tom and nodded with a stern face at the second beautifully painted theme canvas. "Yeah, I concur. This one is out. The circus is out too."

Tom scooted over and stopped, staring at the next theme canvas on top of a third office desk surface against the wall with a smile. "A dinosaur theme with a set of large and scary dead animals, I don't know. I think some of the younger little kids would become frightened and piss all over their walking shorts and the manicured grass." He back stepped and moved away from the tables and canvases, hitting the edge of the chair, sitting down and stared with a stern face at each painted canvas on top of the empty desk which was against the wall.

Stu backed stepped from the tables and stared at each canvas with a stern face in silence, hitting the edge of a second chair, sitting down a stern face and a nod at the three same painted canvases on top of each desk, which was against the side wall. "I agree with Tom. These particular canvas painted themes are for kids. I think we need a kiddie and an adult theme. How about we do a rock and roll theme with a set of dancing people who sing at each picnic table?"

Appleton moved backward from Stu and Tom and scooted around the table, sitting down on the opposite side of the eating table, reaching over and prepared a cup of coffee with a slice of breakfast pastry, saying with a sour frown and a matching tone. "The zoo animals possess sensitive hearing, Stuart."

Tom spun around inside the chair with a grin and a laugh, reaching out for a slice of pastry also. "You will perturb all the zoo animals, Stu." He fixed a small plate and pulled it back it the front of his dress shirt, eating the delicious food with a closed mouth in the presence of the business visitor.

Gage spun around inside the chair with a sour frown and reached out for a cup of tea. "O yeah!" He prepared the tea, sliding the teacup in front of his lips and sipped and swallowed the liquid in silence. He lowered the steaming cup down in front of his dress shirt, gently tapping fingers over the warm ceramic with annoyance.

Appleton chewed and swallowed the pastry, saying with a smile to each brother. "I am open to any more ideas for the Quartet annual picnic."

Tom wiped both hands over the napkin and slapped a chest with a smile and a nod. "Okay. We can do a rodeo theme with horses and saddles. I can wear my real true western pink and yellow cowboy shirt..."

"Naw," Stu leaned over with a chuckle and a whisper into the eardrum on Tom. "No. You can't, boy. It has real South Dakota blood stains on it from two years ago. Remember, cowboy?" He sat back with a smile, gently tapping all the fingers over the warm ceramic.

Tom exhaled with a laugh, "O yeah!"

Then, Tom and Stu laughed together.

Appleton chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown at each brother. "A rodeo theme would not be suitable with the other wild forest animals, particularly around the lions."

"O yeah!" Tom laughed with a nod and then ate more of the pastry, chewing.

Stu sipped and swallowed the tea with a smile and a nod to Appleton. "Then, we use the animals at the zoo. So, how about a real African safari with a real elephant? Do you wanna ride an elephant around the zoo park, Tom?" He turned and smiled at the nose profile on his baby brother.

Tom chewed and swallowed the food with a giggle and a nod, lifting and wiggling both arms in the air, "Yeah! Me, first! Me, first! I wanna ride an elephant." He dropped both hands and grabbed, eating the pastry, chewing.

Appleton chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown and a matching tone to each brother, "No. You cannot use the elephants from the zoo for a real life African safari, Stuart. They are there for both their protection and their beauty."

Stu tapped all the fingers on the teacup with a sad frown, "O yeah!"

Tom finished the pastry, wiping both hands and a face on the napkin, dropping down the napkin into the table with a smile and a nod. "Yeah, I got another idea. We build a great big wooden silver painted starship with an array of rounded open windows. Then, everyone can come and go inside ship while pretend flying it like a starship captain into pretend outer space. The windows will serve food and drinks. Then, we plant down sand all over the ground..."

"The zoo landscape is prime imported grasses which is the food for most of the animals." Appleton finished the pastry with a sour frown and a matching tone to Tom, wiping off her lips and her hands. "Animals do not eat sand, Thomas."

Stu turned and nodded with a grin to Tom, "How about an old fashion American family theme?"

Appleton pointed to each painted canvas on top of each office desk surface against the wall with a smile. "Each one of the canvases also is a very nice family theme."

Tom turned and frowned to Stu. "Like what?"

Stu nodded with a smile to Tom. "We get an ancient firefighting truck with a real bell and some loud whistles and let the children climb up and down and over it. Then, we make the picnic an educational experience, too. And we get a fire house designed bouncy house, too."

Tom bounced up and down in the chair with a grin and a nod. "I like that, too."

Appleton exhaled at the nose profile on Gage. "Stuart, I must remind that a large object of metal is not allowed to mix with a live animal at the zoo.'

Stu frowned at Tom. "Yeah! We got all those damn animals."

Tom tapped both hands on the table and stared at Stu with a grin. "I know. We get a plot of sand somewhere and place the ancient fire truck there. Then, we can blow the horn all the time..."

"But?" Appleton turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"Yeah! We can't without perturbing the animals. So we can add some more stuff like...like..." Stu nodded with a smile and reached down into the jacket pocket, pulling out the mobile telephone, tapping on the tiny keyboard and watched the tiny screen for the new information.

Tom reached down into the jacket pocket and pulled out the mobile telephone too, tapping on the small screen for the new information, "A retired ancient rocket ship that went the moon and came back," he nodded with a giggle.

"But!" Appleton turned and frowned at the hair roots on Tom and Stu.

Stu nodded with a smile at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "And a retired fighter jet that went into war and came back..."

"But!" Appleton continued to frown at the hair roots on Tom and Stu.

Tom pointed down with a smile to the mobile telephone. "Lookie here! I found the NASA official space shuttle Discovery. It is the longest serving crewed spacecraft. It rests inside the Smithsonian National Air and Space. So, we can rent it for one day..."

"But!" Appleton continued to frown at the hair roots on Tom and Stu.

Stu nodded with a smile and pointed down to the mobile telephone. "I have found inside the US State of Nebraska. There is a museum of military vehicles inside the city of Lexington in US State of Nebraska. It is a non-profit organization that is ran by volunteers and funded by donations. Donations, that's me and you. There are hundreds of vehicles, including helicopters, tanks, half-tracks, ambulances, and a jeep from every branch of the USA military service. There are also displays of weapons, uniforms, engines, equipment, and more like the everyday necessities of a soldier life that was used by the German army in World War Two."

"But!" Appleton frowned at each nose profile on Tom and Stu.

Stu nodded with a smile to Tom. "The Quartet calls them up and gets permission to use them in our annual picnic. If they say yes, then we make a huge donation and sent out a fleet of helicopters and rent some of the old pieces of World War Too military equipment, giving a grand salute in red, white and blue..."

Tom nodded with a grin. "With red, white, and blue matching fireworks, too, Gage. I love it. I love your red, white, and blue idea. I love America. USA. USA. USA..."

Appleton gasped at each nose profile on Tom and Stu. "Fireworks are strictly forbidden inside the zoo with live animals, gentlemen."

Stu nodded with a smile to Tom. "We know that, Mrs. Appleton. So, we go and find a new plot of golden sand and then place all the military stuff there."

Tom smiled to Stu. "And my ancient outer space rocket, too, Gage."

Stu nodded with a smile to Tom. "And your ancient outer space rocket, too, Tom."

"But!" Appleton gasped at each nose profile on Tom and Stu.

Stu turned with a confused brow to see Appleton, "But what, Mrs. Appleton?"

Appleton exhaled. "But, you have paid the zoo for the current annual picnic. We have All right purchased numerous items for the annual picnic event. We could not possibly return or recoup back the monies. I must implore that you reconsider the zoo site for the annual picnic, this year."

"O, that! That's no prob." Tom turned with a nod and a smile to Stu. "Pay her three mil!"

Stu nodded with a smile to her. "Frank can write..."

Tom laughed. "Frank is sh..."

Appleton gasped. "Excuse me!"

"Frank is showering from his morning run." Stu laughed with a nod and a smile while elbowing Tom for fun.

Tom giggled with a grin. "Yeah, Frank ran all morning and probably is going to run all afternoon and evening, too. Write her a personal check, Stu! I would, but I don't have my checkbook on me."

"Shore," Stu reached down into the jacket pocket and whipped out the personal checkbook for the payment. "I will write out a personal check for one million to pay the zoo for the purchased items."

Tom turned with a puzzled brow and a nod to see Appleton. "Can you help us find an empty plot of golden sand and some long tables of food, and a rock and roll band for our new picnic site, Mrs. Appleton?"

Appleton smiled with a nod. "Yes. Yes. I have numerous contacts, who can meet that request immediately."

Tom tossed both hands into the air with a smile and a nod. "So, there it is a fuckingly happy ending for all of us. Shit! Give her a check for six million, Stu. Mrs. Appleton needs to start immediate work on the new picnic site, before the month of October gets here."

"Shore," Stu scribbled down the new number and tore off the paper check, looking up with a smile, sliding it across the table surface. "Thanks so much for your swift assistance, Mrs. Appleton!"

Appleton reached over and accepted the check, standing upright from the chair, staring down with a smile. "Thank you, Tom and Stu! I'll be running off now to start on the new picnic site." She looked up with a nod, back stepping from the table and spun around to face the door, moving ahead through the archway and toward the elevator, leaving the building.

Stu turned and nodded with a smile to Tom. "Yeah! Now, Quartet Associates will host a war veteran's grand picnic which will honor each war veteran here plus all of their family members, who are QA employees, like their grandpop or grandma..."

"Grandma didn't serve in no fucking ass war." Tom frowned.

Stu exhaled with a nod. "Both females and males serve every damn day within the USA military for our freedom, Tom, so we will honor all of them at our annual Quartet Associates picnic day in October."

Tom nodded with a smile. "I love it. Quartet Associates will salute the land, the sea, the sky, and the space, where all military peoples work. Our picnic will be a grand day indeed."

Stu frowned to Tom. "Frank won't be happy about the massive change in the picnic plans."

Tom laughed. "Frank ain't happy right now. He is fucking sick with a stomach virus and a head cold inside his shitty fourth floor master bedroom. Anyways, Frank won't dislike our grand American idea to honor all the veterans of our great USA country. Hey! We make the picnic event a Veterans Day for the rest of our days at Quartet Associates. Then, Frank won't have to worry about no fucking ass picnic ever again."

Stu stood upright from the chair with a nod and a smile to see Tom. "I like that brilliant idea. We should go and call him. Tell Frank that we changed the picnic theme!"

Tom stood upright from the chair with a sour frown and looked down with a stern face at the designer wrist watch and back up to see Stu. "Hell, no! I don't time. I gotta go to court. Frank is shitting on the toilet of the guest bedroom. Misty would never like Frank stink up their master bathroom with his mess of smelly shitty turds." He back stepped from the table and spun around to face the door, dashed through the archway and stopped, standing in front of the elevators. He slammed the button on the wall. The elevator doors opened. Tom entered into the carriage and spun around with a smile and a giggle to see the hallway, reaching out the panel of buttons.

Stu back stepped from the table and spun around to face the door, dashing behind Tom with a smile. "Yeah! We can tell him when we see him at dinner table tonight. Hold the elevator for me, Tom!"

Tom stood inside the carriage and shook his bangs with a sour frown. "You need to fuckingly jog up the stairs and into your lush private office, Gage. You're too gawd damn fat. You need to lose some shitty weight, boy." He pressed the button on the wall with a grin and a giggle. Gage would never try to kill Tom on the same floor with their brother Austin. Austin did not like shitty noise from any of the pups during working hours. After working hours, his loving wife Jane would protect her pumpkin butt from an angry and vicious big brother Gage. The elevator doors closed shut.

Gage stood in front of the closed elevator doors inside the hallway of the twenty-first floor with a growl, balling both fists with fury and a sneer, "Thomas!"

Present day and place

Dungeon setting of Frank

9:10 a.m.

I laughed out loud with a new nasty attitude, "My baby brother will blow her brains out the side of her right temple along with the 106-year-old skulls of her sisters," gurgling from a wet throat.

I turned and moved to the dirty lounge chair, swinging around and sitting a blanket covered ass inside the ratty cloth and violently jerked up the lever. I heard a creaking creepy sound as the foot stool slowly shifted and moved into a parallel position even with the stone floor like a decrypted old man, holding a pair of naked legs and a set of dirty naked feet.

I pulled the biology textbook cozy into a semi-naked lap, seeking an eternal solution to a single problem, opening to the first page. I voiced to both my person and my man Brother Jesus. "Use logic. No. Use medical logic. Yes, sir. Uh-huh, amen," my active mind raced with the numerous chemical and biological minerals, vitamins, and proteins that re-generated the biological cells, keeping the things alive and breathing.

Then I violently slapped the textbook shut with a loud noise, since I found it very hard to concentrate on any medical text after being discovered, followed, tracked, and captured by a baby taker, a baby killer, and a baby monster that was haunting the pink painted walls of six Charity Hospital Nurseries.

I had found intent, motion, and weapon, babe.

I said out loud. "What do you plan to do with it, Dr. Mangrove? You're naked as a jay bird and permanently trapped inside an enclosed windowless, cold, damp, dark, cave, dungeon hole in the ground." I snorted then sneezed out a stream of clear mucus, wiping the moisture with a naked hand.

Babe had trapped Frank into doing her shitty, dirty, nasty work inside a rarely filled Florida basement barely ten feet above sea level.

I moaned with irritation. "I miss my wife. I should be home spoiling Misty, not here."

I exhaled and opened the book to the table of contents, studying the proper medical topic to start the research and analysis of the yellowish-white globs of fat and proteins within the naked mattress.

Physician Visits, Hospital Visits, Emergency Room Visits, Medical Accidents, Medical Specialists, Home Healthcare, Chiropractic Care, Hearing, Dental, Vision, Air Ambulance, Maternity, Elder Care, 24-hour Nurse Hotline, Urgent Care, Wound Care, Oncology, Cardiology, Obstetrical, Gastroenterology, Ambulatory Surgery, Radiology, CT Scans, MRI, PT, OT, Rehab Services, Labor/Delivery/Recovery/Post Services, Wound Care, Laser Surgery, ICU, CCU, SICU, PICU, Sentinel Laboratory, Hemo-dialysis, Blood Bank, Cardiac Catheterization Lab, Ophthalmologic Services, Radiation Therapy, Lithotripsy, Neurological Services, Ultrasound, Respiratory, Pulmonary, Plastic Surgery, Nuclear Medicine, Orthopedic Surgery, Bariatric Center, Vascular Surgery, Immunity, and Tele-medicine or eHealth Services.

"Let's figure how you, girls are still alive. The heart must pump something through your veins. The cardiovascular system is my first search." I said with clueless fun.

Page number 846 in chapter number 38 on the topic of Babies

9:02 a.m.

I violently flipped through the glossy pages of the heavy-ass textbook inside a lap, trying to find page number 325, the beginning page of the cardiovascular system. I could see colorful pictures, lined graphs, and a wordy discussion of a sensitive medical matter: Babies.

I whimpered with a soft groan. "Misty, she is probably worried about me, too."

City of Coral Beach (35 miles south of Florida City)

9:09 a.m.

Home of Mrs. and Mr. Gage Thant Gage, III

Coral Lane Two

Hot temperatures with dull sunshine and light breeze

The front door opened.

Jane and Misty Marie entered one at a time from the front porch and into the foyer of the Gage home on Coral Lane Two that resided within the billionaire estate homes of Coral Beach.

The door closed.

Jane and Misty Marie moved and stopped inside the breakfast room, standing at smaller version of a dining room table.

Misty Marie reached out and touched the chair with a smile, pulling it out and sat, scooting up into the wooden edge. "I enjoy eating breakfast a little later in the morning. I always perform a good sweaty workout in the early morning. Now, I'm refreshed with energy and very hunger."

Jane stopped and stood beside Misty at the same breakfast room, reaching and touched the chair, sliding it over the wooden flooring with a smile and a nod. "I finished exercising this morning also. I also enjoy eating after a hard workout." She sat, reaching up and grabbed the red and black colored cloth napkin, unfolding and placed inside a lap, staring down at the covered lid over the breakfast plate.

Gracie entered from the kitchen without a plate between in her hands, scooting around the table, pulling out the chair and sat across from Janey and Misty Marie like always. Each day, the Quartet sisters decided who and where to eat the breakfast meal, starting the day with a good nutrient and a pleasant social atmosphere.

The sisters had decided to dine at the Gage household, this particular morning.

The square shaped light pine colored table held only three chairs, two on one side. Gracie sat across the wood. In front of each chair, there was a rough place mat with an organic twist of Indian corn.

The crop of Indian corn was one of the oldest varieties of corn that was taught by the true Native American to the early colonists to cultivate and farm for food.

The stock of corn came in an array of pretty speckled colored of each individual kernel of various colors in light blue, yellow, black, red, dark blue, brown and orange, which also functioned as an ornamental nature decoration.

Remnants of numerous kernels of individual Indian corn had been gathered from the residue of a corn field in the farm town of Homestead by a group of migrant workers. The workers weaved and woven the individual corn kernels into an assortment of numerous colorful eating place mates for selling to the city slicks for money.

Gracie discovered the dirt booth on the side of road within the rural town of Homestead during a daytime drive down to the Key islands for a short vacation and made Stu stop the car. She scooted out the car and purchased the entire booth of pretty merchandise.

The place mat consisted of bumpy long strands of horizontal rows of specked Indian corn. The place mat was not flat but slightly raised and bumpy. Even with a heavy plate, the place mat didn't completed rest flat over the table surface.

So Gracie had a local pottery owner in the city of Homestead design and burn a set of super sized eating plates in the colors of light blue, black, pink, orange, red, brown to match the place mat and then the eating plate almost covered the entire Indian corn hand-made place mat.

In front of each chair, there were three small plates which were each covered with a solid silver tinted lid of steaming hot breakfast entrée. Stu and Gage didn't use tons of servants to tote and fetch every single item like Tom did inside his castle. The kitchen servants had helped prepare the daily meal with Gracie and set the table for the breakfast meal, leaving for the day. They would return around dinnertime to assist Gracie with supper for her and Stu.

In front of each chair, the utensil did not match. Gracie insisted upon shopping for dishes and kitchen supplies at numerous local operated and owned flea markets and thrift shops, where there was one unique item of a fork or a spoon or a cup or a palter. Then Gracie would set the dining table with all mismatched eating plates and utensils.

Jane reached and lifted the unmatched fork, tapping down on top of the food item with the fork as the oversized plate slightly wobbled side to side over the bumpy place mat with a puzzled brow. "What is this, Gracie?"

Gracie nodded with a smile to the hair roots on each sister. "Our first course of breakfast..."

Misty stared down at the object inside the colorful oversized plate. "I didn't know that breakfast had multiple courses."

Gracie lifted the mismatched spoon and smiled with a nod to the hair root of each sister. "This is a plate of fried turkey eggs."

Janey frowned down at the breakfast item, "An egg from a gobbling turkey, like the dead gobbling turkey that we eat at thanksgiving holiday."

"O so nice, it looks like an egg, but is not an egg." Misty lifted the mismatched fork and gently tapped on top of the egg with the tip of the fork, without a grunt or a smile.

Gracie reached down and swirled the tip of the fork over the fried egg with a smile, "Turkey egg."

Jane looked up with a confused brow and a gasp to see the hair roots on Gracie. "I don't know that people ate turkey eggs."

Gracie looked up with a smile to see Janey. "They are very expensive. We had a very small basket full of turkey eggs flew out from Great British to Florida, yesterday. A chicken hen is an egg-laying nature machine, dropping one egg every day. A turkey mama produces two eggs per week. A chicken hen starts laying an egg at the age of five months. A turkey lays an egg until the age of seven months."

"O interesting, Gracie." Misty Marie continued to gently tap on the egg. The yolk wiggled side to side at her frown.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the egg, saying with a smile to her Quartet sister. "A farmer usually doesn't sell a batch of turkey eggs, since the adult turkey is more valuable for its meat during holiday season. However, there are a few farmers that end up with a flock of turkeys that can't breed but still lay eggs. These are some of those eggs." She ate more of the egg, chewing.

Jane sliced the egg, tearing it apart around the plate, without eating it, "Good, I thought that I was eating my turkey meat for Thanksgiving, this year."

Gracie chewed and swallowed the egg, saying with a smile to her sisters. "A chicken hen lays three hundred eggs per year. A turkey drops hundred eggs."

Misty cleared a throat, staring down at the three cooked turkey eggs that covered the super large eating plate. "It looks like the turkey egg has too much..."

Gracie chewed and swallowed the egg, saying with a smile to her sisters. "The turkey egg is similar to a duck egg. It is richer and creamier in taste. The yolk is darker than the bright yellow of a chicken egg."

Misty stared down at the cooked egg. "Is a chicken hen egg and a turkey egg the same size, Gracie?"

Jane turned and smiled with a nod at the blonde colored hair roots on Misty, not wanting to taste the turkey egg. "That's a very good question, indeed, Misty. "Is a chicken hen egg and a turkey egg the same size, Gracie?" She turned and smile at the black hair roots on Gracie.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the egg, saying with a smile to her sisters. "A turkey egg is a little bigger than a chicken egg and has more of a pointy end. A turkey egg looks white and tastes like a chicken egg. But the white and yolk parts are much more bigger. You can see that the yolk is bigger in the middle of the egg, making the white part a little smaller." She scooped up the egg, chewing with a nod.

"O that's interesting." Misty tapped on the egg, without eating it.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the egg, saying with a smile to her sister. "A turkey egg is perfectly safe to eat like an ostrich, a duck and a quail egg. An ostrich egg is priced over twenty dollars in Great Britain. Stu wants to try one, next week."

"Good for Stu." Jane frowned down at the egg.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the food, saying with a smile to her sisters. "There are only a handful of bird eggs that contain a kind of poison. They all live in the country of Indonesia."

Jane exhaled at the oversized turkey egg, since she had never eaten one. And she did not particular want too either. "I'm glad to be an American with American tastes and American foods...."

"Me, too," Misty exhaled at the oversized turkey egg, without eating it. "You are wise about bird eggs, Gracie."

"A goose egg is three times the size of a chicken hen egg. The yolk is much larger and darker than a turkey egg." Gracie scooped up the egg with a soup, chewing. "You can clearly see the separation between the outer thin albumen and the inner thick albumen. I find that a thinly albumen tastes metallic when pan fried."

Misty stared down at the big dark yolk without vomiting or gagging. "How does one cook a turkey egg?"

Jane turned and smiled with a nod at the hair roots on Misty, not wanting to taste the turkey egg. "That's a very good question, indeed, Misty. How does one cook a turkey egg, Gracie?"

Gracie cut up the egg with a nod and a smile. "I melted a pat of butter into a hot frying pan and cracked open the egg, gently slapping it down into the hot pan. I added a dash of water and a pinch of sea salt. Then I placed a covered lid over the top for thirty seconds. When the white portion settled, I lifted it from the frying pan and placed it onto the plate. Ta-da! Try it, Misty?"

"Well, it is larger than a regular chicken hen egg." Misty tapped on the dark yolk with the tip of the folk and a stern face.

Gracie swallowed, saying with a smile to her sisters. "I find that a duck egg is very rich with flavor. A turkey egg has a broader disc of thick white and very tasty too. The yolk is good. Try it, Misty?"

Misty looked up with a fake smile and a nod to see Gracie. "Of course, Gracie, but I am waiting my cholesterol intake for the week, the month, the entire year. And I had a chicken egg, yesterday. So sorry, I can't eat any more eggs until next week, next month, next year."

Gracie cleaned her plate with the three fried turkey eggs, sliding the empty plate to the side, sliding over a new plate over the Indian corn placemat with a smile and a nod to her sisters. "The second entree..."

Jane slid the uneaten plate of turkey eggs to the side, reaching out and grabbed the smaller plate, rolling it over the bumpy placemat. The plate wiggled side to side.

She lifted the lid with a puzzled brow. "What is the one? It looks like a piece of brown wheat whole bread."

Gracie tore the bread into smaller chunks with smile and a nod to Jane. "This bread is much, much better for your biological body. It has existed for thousands of years. The brown tinted bread is Ezekiel bread, where Ezekiel lived inside the desert for two years, living off the sprouted whole grains, legumes and seeds of the land."

"O that is very interesting, Gracie." Misty stared down at the bread.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the bread, saying with a smile to her sister. "Most processed bread contains sugar, Ezekiel bread does not contain, sugar, preservations, and artificial ingredients.

Jane lifted a tiny piece of bread into her nose, smelling the odor, chewing a tiny bite and swallowed with a grin. "Umm, it is very nutty and chewy."

Misty stared with a stern face down at the bread and the jam without eating.

Gracie spread the jam over the bread, chewing and eating. "Ezekiel bread was eaten during the Bible times. In the Bible, the Book of Ezekiel, chapter four and verse nine, the bread is prepared from sprout using the grains wheat, barley, beans, lentils, millet and spelt for the Israelites who were in exile for 390 days.

"The Bible bread recipe helped the people survive famine during the upcoming battles of war. Grains, barley, and millet are examples throughout history of a poor man's food, because the hardy grains are able to last through times of drought and frosts while providing a good source of protein." She chewed and swallowed the bread.

Gracie continued. "Essence bread is a type of ancient sprouted Hebrew bread like Ezekiel bread. Essence bread was first eaten around the time of second century B.C. A loaf of sourdough bread is an acidic ferment that is combined with grains to create natural yeast. An ancient loaf of sourdough bread was made before the cultivated yeast and result in a slightly sour taste to the bread. Ancient sourdough bread had been used and then eaten in parts of Europe around the time of 3,700 B.C."

"Wow! You know your breads, Gracie." Misty tapped on the bread with the mismatched knife.

Jane pointed to the object on the side. "What's this blackish purple jam here inside my tiny bowl? It doesn't look like purple grapes."

Gracie chewed and swallowed the bread, saying with a smile to her sisters. "The jam grows wild inside Yellowstone National Park."

Jane nodded with a smile, spreading a tiny dab of the jam over another tiny piece of bread, trying not to be rude to the hostess with the weird morning breakfast as her stomach growled for a plate of American food. "Well, I compliment the international breakfast, Gracie." She lifted and chewed the bread with a nod in silence.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the bread, saying with a smile. "Thank you."

Jane chewed and swallowed the bread, saying with a smile, "Great flavor and taste, Gracie."

Misty lifted the mismatched spoon and thumped the objects inside the jam with a stern face. "It has very big chunks of berries inside the jam. What kind of berries?" Gracie chewed and swallowed the bread with the jam, saying with a smile to her sister. "The berry is a wild huckleberry. It is the most ambrosia-like of all the wild berries with a bursting robust and tart tongue flavor. This is not a blue berry. A huckleberry bush is small with a set of oval shaped leaves of roundness. Each flavor is tartness and crunchy. A huckleberry is the cousin of the blueberry that grows in the wildness at an elevation of four thousand feet. The species of huckleberries are native to the US State of Washington and Oregon. They also grow wild in the Rocky Mountains during the months of July through September. Since they are hard to find, they are very expensive.

"It has a thick skin on the berry, too." Misty tapped with the spoon on the whole berry with a stern face.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the bread, saying with a smile to each sister. "Ezekiel bread is made of organic sprouted wheat, filtered water, organic malted barley, organic sprouted rye, organic sprouted barley, organic sprouted oats, organic sprouted millet, organic sprouted corn, organic sprouted brown rice, fresh yeast, organic wheat gluten and sea salt. Some people prefer to make their own homemade sprouted bread like me and Stu. This is our own creation using whole grain berries and not any type of milled, rolled, flaked processed grain. It prevents them from sprouting. Our homemade sprouted bread contains wheat, spelt, oats, barley, buckwheat, brown rice, einkorn wheat, as well as various seeds like sesame, poppy and flaxseeds."

"Sounds nice, Gracie." Jane continued to tear the bread into smaller portions without eating it."

"How do you make a loaf of homemade sprouted bread, Gracie?" Misty stared down at the bread, not eating.

Gracie spread the jam over the bread. "You soak the grain for three days inside a slow cooker to sprout. Then when they have sprouted, you drain the grains to separate the grains from the water. You dry out the grains after they have sprouted. You bake them at a low temperature inside the oven. Then you grind the grains into flour with a high speed blender. You add yeast and knead the ingredients into dough. Then let the dough set for one hour, so the yeast and the grains can interact. The dough will rise. Bake for one hour. Since the bread contains no preservatives and the sprouted flour is prone to growing mold over time. You freeze the bread within two days of making it. Then enjoy it!"

Misty gasped at the bread. "Mold, there is mold inside this bread?"

Gracie looked up with a sour frown to see the hair roots on Misty. "No, I explain the sprouting process. The bread has been frozen and then thawed for our morning breakfast."

"What's the recipe of sprouted grain Ezekiel bread, Gracie?" Jane tore the bread and spread the jam over the tore pieces like she was going to eat it.

Misty stared down at the bread with a stern face. "Good question, Janey! What is the recipe for this bread?"

Gracie chewed and swallowed the bread, saying with a smile to the hair roots on her sisters. "Three cups of untreated and raw whole grains of barley, bean flour, millet four, spelt wheat flour and lentil flour, some vinegar, salt and yeast. It is a bread product.

"One slice of bread is eighty calories, four grams of protein, three grams of fiber, eight percent of vitamin B1 thiamine, eight percent phosphorus, six percent magnesium, and six percent niacin. Ezekiel bread has more protein, fiber, and vitamins, and minerals than other processed breads. However, it is not gluten-free."

"O that is not nice for me." Misty slid the plate to the side with a smile. "I am on a gluten-free diet, too. I must not eat gluten food entrées, Gracie."

"I am so sorry, Misty. I didn't know." Gracie wiped her hands and her face on the cloth napkin, sliding an empty plate to the side, reaching out and dragged over a new small plate in front of her blouse with a smile and a nod, "Our last entrée for breakfast."

Jane slid the uneaten bread to the side with a smile, reaching out and grabbed the last small plate, sliding it in front of her blouse with a smile and a nod. "I enjoy eating breakfast with Gracie. It is always a surprise..." She lifted the lid and gasped.

Misty lifted the lid with a gasp and a blank face. "It is an insect body with a set of long red legs and a yellow glazed body without a neck."

Gracie smiled at the hair roots on her sisters. "Locust is the only insect which is considered a kosher and an economic food source by Middle Eastern families."

"O. I didn't realize the insect without the head." She dropped the lid over to the side with a worried brow at the new breakfast entrée without coughing or gagging. "I see its arms, too."

"I'm glad to be an American." Jane exhaled at the plate of insects.

Gracie reached out and grabbed a knife and a fork, lowering it down to the plate of fried insects, saying with a smile to her sister. "African cooking of food includes Africa, ants, beetle grubs, caterpillars, grasshoppers, locusts, and termites that are caught in the wild and eaten. There are 1,462 recorded species of edible insects including crickets and locusts..."

"Thanks for updating me with that information, Gracie." Misty exhaled and stared down the plate of insects.

Gracie leaned down, stabbing the fork into the nearest locust, hearing it crunch.

Misty Marie coughed and covered a mouth with the cloth napkin, hiding her eyelashes, too.

Jane leaned over and pulled the center piece of individual tiny vases of pink, yellow, red, and orange wildflowers in front of her breakfast plate, staring at the pretty flowers, hearing the jaws of Gracie. The jaws sounded with deep crunches. Jane cleared a throat, "I thought insects were sprayed with poisons inside a foreign country, Gracie."

Gracie swallowed the locust with a smile and a nod. "Insects are..."

"What?" Jane gasped.

"But these are delicious..." Gracie leaned down and crunched on another fried locus body.

"Yummy," Jane tapped on top of the locust without coughing or gagging.

"What does it taste like, Gracie?" Misty lifted the mismatched fork in the air, without touching the fried and cooked insect.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the insect, saying with a smile to the hair roots on her sisters. "Locust taste like quail and sunflower seeds which is the crunch and some flavor of shrimp which is the meat. It is a poor people food which is eaten in India, the Far East and Africa but it is an excellent source of protein. Used to, people were ashamed to eat locusts. Now, insects are a culinary curiosity with the world's most influential chefs who want to cook them, too. The insect is more appetizing if you pull off the head, the short legs, and wings. The long legs are relatively plump like a farm chicken leg but with a super crunchy sound." She lifted and crunched onto the next locust body.

Misty stared down at the insects with a stern face, wasting her time until breakfast was finished. She was not eating a bug for her meal. "How do you cook a locust, Gracie?

Jane frowned down at the plate of insects. "Did you cook the locusts, Gracie?

Gracie chewed and swallowed the fried insect, saying with a smile to her sisters. "Yes, I did. You heat a boiling pot of vegetable stock and then toss in all the locusts whole. Cook for three minutes, drain the wet locusts and let them cool. Then twist off each head, removed the wings and the smaller legs..."

"It had more legs?" Misty Marie coughed and grabbed the napkin, covering her mouth.

Gracie nodded. "Then I added flour, salt, pepper, chili powder, and garlic. I rolled each precooked locust..."

Misty exhaled. "You touched the things?"

Gracie chopped up the insect with the mismatched knife and fork with a smile. "The locusts are dead and wet. I rolled each dead and wet locust into a beaten whole egg and flour, shaking off the extra flour. I friend them in olive oil for one minute. Each locust turned golden brown."

Jane gently chopped on the insect, tearing it apart and spread it around the plate, like she was going to eat it, but she was not going to eat it. "It looks yellowish gold with sparkling red colored legs."

Misty exhaled. "I see all of the legs."

Jane leaned over with a smile and a whisper. "You should have eaten the turkey egg."

Gracie chewed and swallowed the insect body parts, saying with a smile to the hair roots on each sister. "When Egyptian skies darkened with tiny whirring creatures bound for tender field crops, Israeli farmers went on high alert to ward off the cloud of locusts heading north. Back then, an old fashioned drinking bar used to offer a bowl of pretzels and a bowl of hard-boiled eggs to encourage people to gulp down more beer. However, within our modern times, foodies come and gather at their favored diner inside the Middle East to munch on a plate of free, high protein crunchy and salty locusts. In the future, I can see that a family at home will pass over the junk food snacks from a plastic bag and consume a bowlful of yummy fried locusts. You can season them anyway you like. Stu and I like the sweet sauce that makes the locusts golden brown. Locusts are not raised like a nasty pig or a chicken hen. Locusts are foraged from the wilds of the desert. A fried locust is much more hearty and healthy snack than a junk food bag snack of potato chips. There is not any wasteful plastic packaging to fill a landfill. And one locust is cheaper than a super sized large bag of potato chips and free, to boot. You can't be anything that is natural and free."

"Yeah, I can beat it to death with a hammer and a nail." Jane whispered for her eardrums, staring down at the chopped up plate of locust bodies.

Gracie chewed and swallowed the insect parts, saying with a smile and a nod to the hair roots on each sister. "Tomorrow morning, we're having goose eggs and grits."

Misty gagged and coughed, standing from the chair with a sour frown and turned, running toward the downstairs bathroom door with a yell. "Please excuse me."

Jane placed the napkin over the chopped up food of locust like she had eaten some of it and stood with a smile and a nod, patting her stomach with a nod and a smile. "That was a nice breakfast, sister dear. Can you come over to my house for lunch, today, Gracie?"

Present day and place

Dungeon setting of Frank

9:31 a.m.

My active brain and an achy heart flooded the gray matter with tender loving thoughts of Misty Marie, my beautiful, smart, loving, and devoted wife, who worried all the time.

Then my brain cells haphazardly wandered into cold and black outer space, trying to touch her mental mind, missing her presence, calling her name over and over while thinking of our first official meeting.

Eleven years ago

City of Miami

Miami-Dade University swimming pool

Saturday May 31st

1:01 p.m.

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

A hot spring time with a hotter fraternal house party, Misty was a fresh-woman at Miami-Dade University during the month of May. I was a senior-man, taking my last set of academic classes, graduating with bachelor's degree in biology along with my buddy Jace.

Then they both would enter Miami-Dade Medical School becoming a future physician, staring in the month of June.

The Quartet had fun at an outdoor people party, watching Tom act like a fool, who performed with both flawless aim and internal purpose.

Stu observed and protected his baby brother from any stupid silly antic that might get Tom killed or permanently body injured.

Austin enjoyed the warm sunshine with a new tramp underneath the cool veranda, sucking down bottles of colder beer.

The dumbass college students engaged in game four of an innocent water volleyball sport while all the drunken frat boys and cute sorority girls played on the opposite teams, six teen males versus fourteen teen girls inside a junior Olympic-sized swimming pool. The guys paddled on the deep end of the pool inside six feet of water. The purposefully disadvantage gave the sweet girls a victory, each and every play.

No one seemed to care about the win, only the fun.

The newest stupid rule by an aquatic referee for the day stated after a winning score, a new server of the scoring team can perform a kill shot by smashing the ball into the opposing team members. The opposing team members floated like statues, paddling for five seconds until a falling rubber ball hit one of the dumbasses on the skull, purposefully. Then all the dumbasses could escape before the scoring team member fell down into the pool or an additional scoring point was added to the scoring team or some kinda stupid-ass asinine interpretation like that.

I did not exactly recall, since I wasn't participating in water dodge game.

Tom had scored the last hit, adding one point to total score for young Greek demi-gods as he was seriously intoxicated on both bourbon and beer. He leaped up from the water, climbing with fingers, toes, arms, and legs out of the pool water and then seriously swayed upright in the light breeze toward the end of the pink-bricked pool concrete. Tom turned in the wind and missed the big volleyball three times before hitting the rubber with a shaking right folded fist and then ran in a forward motion.

Then Tom accidentally tripped down over his two feet, stumbling with a swollen face first down into six feet of water due to heavy amounts of liquid consumed under a hot bright Florida sun equal to his total body weigh in whiskey corn bourbon. All male morons watched and laughed, hanging onto the pink-bricked ledge of the swimming pool as Tom violently fell down into the rough water.

Then the male morons executed a group jump into the water, creating a tidal wave effect.

Jace laughed at Tom. Austin ignored the pup. Stu leaped from the chair and jumped inside the pool after drunken Tom.

Misty Marie gracefully floated above the rough waters, watching Tim hit the ball and then faithfully obeyed the five second penalty rule, before she could move out of a beach ball's unpredicted air path. A huge tidal wave of water and males hit her face, knocking Misty sideways. She submerged underwater on the overcrowded end of the pool that was filled with nineteen screaming and thrusting hot bodies, while they swiftly glided away to safety.

I eye witnessed a wall of water hit Misty as she disappeared underneath the wave. Then I alarmingly noted that she did not re-emerge along with the other screaming girls. I calmly responded, moving from the lounge chair and dove head first into the deep water for a rescue, locating her.

Misty was holding her breathe, bravely struggling toward the surface for air as thirteen other panicked pretty females flung water and a set of four swimming limbs into Misty, blocking an escape from the depths of dark water.

I forcefully grabbed and embraced her body.

They surfaced for air.

I pulled her close into a chest, swimming to the pool's edge, moving away from the other screeching and screaming college students.

Misty coughed, then sneezed, then coughed, and finally breathed air as I held her tight from drowning a second time. She relaxed from an alarmed incident and smiled. "Thank you, kind sir."

These proper elegant English words melted my cold black heart, since Misty was sincere, helpless, kind, and polite all rolled into one single beautiful female, especially from an intense dangerous situation.

I had seen Misty before today. She hung around some of the other frat parties as one of many blonde suntanned bimbos in the pool, in the house, and in the kitchen. She lounged around eating, drinking, and flirting with all the frat boys between our academic classes and required house lights out.

I surprisingly discovered that Misty shared my similar social and emotional ideas about family, life, school, and work ethnics along with our common interests, such, as wine tasting, jewel hunting, dancing, art, music, books, helping stray animals, and medical knowledge.

Misty was taking academic classes to become a registered nurse as a freshman with lots more academic courses before entering Miami-Dade nursing school which was three years away.

I found both enjoyment and entertainment with Misty and her social and cultural interests, since I did not have a steady girlfriend like Stu.

Stu and Gracie met, dated, and mated for three calendar months and then canceled all future appointments with other future faces, developing the plans for a future wedding. Gracie continued her college studies toward a master's degree in nutrition and fitness with Stu, dreaming of graduation day and then a marriage.

After college graduation, Tom would be enrolled into the Miami-Dade University Law School under the control of his asshole father Thomas Edison Sawyer, Junior.

After college graduation, Austin would attend law school with his close friend Clifford. Clifford was married to his college sweetheart Marge Gail Wells, the new Mrs. Clifford Milton.

After college graduation, Jace and I would start Miami-Dade Medical School, becoming a licensed physician in the state of Florida.

But I was not expected to function as a physician, treating sick patients. I required the exposure of medical knowledge as a future enterpriser of a future business company with my brothers from the Quartet, four men of equal talents with varied skills.

My fate dictated an accounting path for a new business with my brothers.

Frank's father currently served as the acting physician to the elder Quartet, their wives, and their babies. However, Frank's father wisely informed that the medical task was difficult when it was paired with the dual duty as the accountant for the previously owned sea port import and export business that was known as the Quartet Company. Frank's father seriously advised not to follow in his fatherly footsteps as both the physician and the accountant.

My brothers and I had the wheels spinning and the shovels digging at our new dream of Quartet Associates. An international security company would protect royalty, the heads of state, the millionaires, the VIPs, and anyone with an excellent Swiss bank account.

I heeded my father's wisdom as Austin announced that our friend Jace would become the roaming medical physician for Quartet Associates. So, I enjoyed my captured time in medical school, learning the family practice, enjoying a simple life. Then my life was much better with Misty Marie.

I discovered more free time, fun energy, and a happiness drive rather than my boring days inside a college classroom.

Misty Marie loved Frank as her boyfriend too.

She and I attended all formal and informal social private and professional affairs with my family on a weekly basis. They were inseparable until time for sleep.

Misty lived at the sorority house on the Miami-Dade University campus.

I moved both bones and books back home, living with my parents.

Frank's mother lovingly adored Misty from the first moment of their friendly introduction on the front door step. His mother encouraged Misty to shop and chat with her at the family mansion when not being occupied by books or Frank. Misty and his mother were best friends and loving family members for Mangrove during his lowly medical student internship at Charity South Miami Hospital, before graduating from the Miami-Dade School of Medicine.

Present day and place

Dungeon setting of Frank

Page 298 in chapter number 11 on the topic: Endocrine system

10:04 a.m.

My active mind drifted back into a gloomy dull present time frame as my eyeballs saw a set of blurry things behind a thinly shredded lace yellowish-white curtain. If I was scared of ghosts, then I might have pissed inside my clean underwear boxers.

I snorted then sneezed, running out a nose hole of mucus. I reached and whipped the snot with a hand from both nostrils, flinging it onto the page, painfully skipping the chapter of babies to see the topic of neonatology.

Neonatology was the study of newborn wellness and preemie infants after birth.

My thoughts immediately flooded back to Misty. "Stop it, Frankie." I flipped through the glossy pages to a new section inside the medical book: psychiatry.

Psychology was the study of a human mind plus the associated psyche behavior via the bio-electronically charged wave signals from the brain.

I laughed. I truly needed the immediate help of a forty dollar-per-hour psychic witch more than a 232,000 dollar-per-year licensed State of Florida medical psychiatrist 'witch' doctor to solve my physical, mental, social, and cultural big ass problem. I believed that was Tom's job as the loco nutty space man to solve my immediate problem. I snorted and sneezed out more mucus snot, wiping the moisture with a hand.

"I'm that guy today, now, and tomorrow." I laughed then violently sneezed from the pulmonary tickle of the exposed air molecules and lovingly produced a stream of thick puke green snot, flinging the gulp into the middle page. I wiped it clean with a dirty finger then violently shook my skull. My eyeballs examined a set of tiny particles of golden sand and wet sweat fell onto the same page. Then I flipped the page forward, seeing the word, endocrine.

Endocrine was a system of glands that involved the release of extracellular signaling molecules of body hormones, regulating metabolism, growth, developmental puberty, tissue function, and bitchy female moods.

My endocrine was mad and upset within my mind. Or my mind was mad at my endocrine. I laughed. "Methinks, a devious or healthy sign of relief of frustration," reading the new page in silence.

The function of the endocrine system was an informational signal system like the tissue nerves, but it used the blood vessels as the information channels. Glands were located throughout the body, signaling the hormones to regulate the functions of an organism, including mood, growth, and development. Diseases of the endocrine system included diabetes mellitus, thyroid disease, and obesity.

I looked up with a sour frown to see the forward stone wall, exhaling with a puff of frustration. "Their endocrine system makes them thin, not obesity. I can test that working clinical theory with a small sample of red and white blood cells," I turned and studied the yellowish-white globs of fat and proteins. "I ain't touching the things, since they might give me bugs, viruses, or germs," exhaling.

I looked back at the forward stone wall with a sour frown and wiggled my ass sideways inside the ratty but comfortable chair, purposefully blocking out my gross-looking roommates. I slapped the book shut and kicked down the foot stool down, standing and felt the blanket fall down. I caught the blanket, tossing it into the chair as I tossed the heavy book on top of the blanket, stretching and scratching a naked tummy. I turned and scanned the tiny cave for any type of food items, since I didn't have any medical, clinical, or killing clue about these monsters until Babe magically provided a prior medical data sheet about her sisters.

I surrendered to both hunger and fate, retrieving both the blanket and the textbook with a cupped hand and landed an ass back down into the chair, covering my delicate parts and popped the foot stool lever. The foot stool slowly creaked upright underneath my naked legs and my naked toes. I flipped over the book and turned to page number 189, reading about the circulatory system of the human body.

The circulatory system was an organ system, passing nutrients, such as, amino acids, electrolytes, gases, hormones, blood cells, and nitrogen waste products to and from the body cells. The circulatory system fought off diseases and helped stabilize the body temperature and pH levels to maintain homeostasis. This was called the cardiovascular system, distributing blood in a network of arteries, veins, and capillaries around the body, and the lymph nodes, and vessels. The main components were a beating heart organ, tons of rivers of blood, and miles of blood vessels. The digestive system worked with the circulatory system providing nutrients to keep the heart pumping with blood.

This led my mental process into the next logical medical clue, the digestive system. I flipped more pages, accordingly.

Page 543 in chapter number 23 on the topic: Digestive system

10:22 a.m.

My empty stomach growled for food attention. I reprimanded my selfie, not finishing my healthy food entrée at breakfast time due to Tom.
Sawyer, as usual, teased and taunted Frank with a set of tough questions and argumentative disputes of today's new subject matter for their usual vocal vicious vivacious morning business meeting. Tom had selected the right profession, sleazy ass lawyer. No wonder he had never lost a legal law case, since his opposing opponent could not stand on two leathers to be around Tom and his tenor vocal cords for more than ten fucking painful ass-kicking minutes within a twenty four hour day and night rotation.

Thirty-two days ago

City of Ruby Beach in US State of Florida

10:10 a.m.

Ruby Beach diner

Hot temperatures and bright sunlight

Tom was angry with the local youngsters at a seaside Ruby Beach diner inside the small fishing town of Ruby Beach which was located on the beautifully white sandy west coast of Florida during the massive state-wide wo-man hunt for the mysterious angel of death. So he drove off to yell at the kids, getting into big bad trouble.

Then big brother Stu saved the day.

And I had helped a little too.

Present day and place

City of Florida City

Dungeon of Frank

11:02 p.m.

Compassionate and conservative nature unites, not divides.

The axiom was the human personality of Stuart Thant Gage, the third. He exhibited a fatherly, caring, and safe manner.

Safety was the foremost concept within his mind along with no risk to any of his family members.

Stu was deeply American but enjoyed a casual multi-cultural lifestyle that South Florida offered a person. And Stu also looked before he leaped over the river or the fire.

I chuckled then gurgled with amusement. "I should ask Stu to give me those lifesaving lessons."

My brothers were safe, alive, mad, worrying about whereabouts of Frank. Stu was roaming on a pair of polished leathers, viciously ripping out the cherry wood panels inside his executive suite on the thirty-three floor of Quartet Tower.

Tom cursed in his elegantly strain of vile words, trailing behind the big ass of Stu, since he didn't enjoy any nasty domestic homework.

Austin continued to sit upon his throne desk, presenting a face of mad, silence, and worry about his brother Frank.

I looked down with a smile and a gurgle to see the page, not reading the context. "They'll come with Stu, leading the dog pack like that deadly mission in Great Britain."

Fortunately for the country of America, the deadly and violent battle terrorism was not here but over on the continent of Europe, where the deadly threat was a different matter. A death threat also required the services of the Quartet on any QA full paid client. Part of the legal contract between Quartet Associates and the QA client, in return, for a money payment provided the following free benefits, such like, limousine transportation, spying surveillance, polite gun manners, and elegant social graces toward the treatment of the new or renewed QA client, and finally the elimination of a QA villain.

All these business transactions fell underneath Stu's position at Quartet Associates. He maintained, glided, and operated the QA training base for a staff of elite QA guards, including the Quartet brothers. The physical location of the exact building location was isolated, remote, and top secret. No one knew but Stu and his hand selected QA pilots. He required all newbie and oldie QA guards to be blindfold, tie, and gag before, during, and after the airplane takeoff, flight, and landing, another one of his sick-o psychological mind tests which included his brothers of the Quartet.

Tom always whined when blindfolded and tied but not gagged as he was required to attend the weapon and fitness QA training session along with his brothers inside the secret base, but Austin huffed out a puff of mint smelling air and then Tom silenced his lips.

All QA clients were secretly identified with a single funny QA code name. If the QA client was threatened, then a QA guard was commissioned for overseeing and sometimes, eliminating the danger. A QA guard unit was made up of three persons which was called a trio. There were guard unit that were called a quartet for a specific mission too. Along with the QA guard unit, each QA client was assigned a cute nursery rhyme code name, compliments from the silly imagination of Thomas, such as, Red Riding Hood and the wolves for a four team of a female; Cinderella and the step-sisters for a three-team of a family unit; Sleeping Beauty and the beasties for a four team of a family unit; Peter and the pipers for a three team for a male; Three Little Piglets for a three-team for a male; Kittens in a cradle for a four team of children; Twinkle Little Starlets for a four-team of children.

Some of the other code names for the QA clients were based on a particular sex and race, such like, Choo-Choo train for a male child; Barbie girl for a female child; Covered wagon for a family unit; Fire Engine for an urgent situation; Little Boy Blue for a male adult, and Snow White for a female adult. These were only a few of the many childish creative code name created by space man Thomas but approved by war god Stu.

Four years ago

County of Great Britain

Monday May 6th

2:02 p.m.

Cool temperatures and dull sunlight

British government safe house fourth floor apartment

One of the QA clients had eyewitnessed a cold blooded murder.

The Prime Minister of Great Britain wanted the face and the dick of the QA client rushed and moved inside a British government safe house with Quartet asshole protection. The full paid QA client was newly nicknamed King George by Thomas, again.

King George had been promised to die both slowly and painfully if kidnapped by his foes, before the legal trial began. The British government wanted the verbal testimony of King George plus his ultimate body guard protection. So, the law authorities turned a cheekbone to the Quartet way of handling security manners inside a foreign government.

11:11 p.m.

Cool temperatures and damp weather without bright stars

Each fourth of the Quartet comfortably sat on an ass inside an oversized leather chair or a matching long sofa and ate a tray of tea biscuits, sipping on hot tea, babysitting King George. The Quartet client sat inside an oversized chair, pointing at the older BBC television re-run program of a science fiction film with Tom. Both the males laughed and chuckled at a humorous weird-ass British vocal literature.

Tuesday May 7th

7:07 a.m.

Cool temperatures and dull sunlight

British government safe house fourth floor apartment

Stu stood with a stern face in front of the ground window and surveyed an empty front street venue inside the safe house apartment building, seeing the action. The next door rear alley was empty as a parade of engine hood of three vehicles rounded the street corner. The rolling vehicles traveled toward the ground level of the safe house apartment building when the last black-tinted window parked at the elevator exit of the building. Stu lifted and said into his mobile telephone, "Transport in place. Board King George, now."

Tom reached and roused the QA client, holding his Ghost near an earlobe with a shout, "King George." He grabbed and shoved the male from the television and the oversized chair as King George slowly stood and pressed don the wrinkles of a new designer business suit with a sour frown. Tom reached and pushed the shoulder of QA client toward the open door and down the staircase, following behind for a short ride to the British courthouse which would end the QA mission of King George. He lifted and said into his mobile telephone, kissing his cheekbone. "Baby is crawling." Sawyer shoved the shoulder forward, scanning down the steps, the naked hallway, the closed doors, the sealed windows, and then Frank on the third floor.

I trotted down to the ground level as an outlook, moving my ass toward the single doorway, wearing a lifesaving bullet body vest and move toward the life-saving bullet-proof vehicle. I perched on the bottom lip of the wooden steps, wearing a shotgun hostler with a loaded shotgun that was hugging my back spine. I kissed my Ghost near an earlobe, saying into my mobile telephone to Austin, "Advancing to first class seat."

King George was a short and overweight male with a balding spot in the rear of his skull and a pair of gray sideburns. He exhibited a tone of pale tinted skin. He slowly shuffled down the stairs before Frank. Tom dashed around King George and stood on top of the second floor, lifting and waving his Ghost at Austin for the clear signal on the staircase.

Austin rushed down to the bottom step from the second level for his babysitting service while Tom guarded the second floor. King George slowly trotted at a time step in front of Frank from the second level down to the ground floor.

Stu shuffled from the ground level, carefully moving around the front of the apartment building and stationed a big body between the outside elevator doors and the alley way of parked vehicles, watching for trouble. The accompanying Quartet QA guards on the QA mission were both hidden between the street corners and dressed in a set of matching sweat suits and a pair of running athletic shoes for a fastest performance, if needed.

King George approached Austin then halted on the next to last step, looking at the front door archway, leading into a manicured lawn and rows of potted flowers on a small covered front porch. He was the son of a paid QA client, not the actually client, but King George became an immediately legal amendment within the Quartet Associate contract as dictated by the father of King George after a swift money deposit into the Quartet's bank account.

The Prime Minister was slick, conning the Quartet into handling his best friend son's body safety, since the enemy followed both King George and the Quartet, buzzing around the narrow busy streets of London for the immediate kill.

King George leaped into the air, coming from the next to last step, wobbling over the floor and performed a ricochet of his body against a stationary Austin. He bounced off the wall and hit the side table, landing onto the floor with a loud thud.

Austin lost his balance and slammed into the back wall, sliding down the wall and closed his eyelids in headache pain, missing the slick exit of King George.

Then the lamp crashed against the wall and floor as King George stood from the floor and bolted toward the closed door.

The door opened.

King George rushed out the door, leaving it open and exposed.

"Fuck," Tom dashed down the stairs, lifting and aimed his Ghost, plowing a clip of sharp razors with a tart warning. He hit the fallen lamp, the forward glass window and the forward wall, watching King George exit into the dull sunlight of London, England.

"Damn it to hell," Austin sat on the floor, slowly rose into full height, rubbing a dizzy head and a bruised shoulder in furious pain.

"Little Boy Blue," I said into my mobile telephone, signal to Stu the Quartet code. The code was taken from a child's nursery rhyme, meaning that King George was out of the building foot loose and fancy free from the Quartet.

Stu turned and ran from the alleyway, crossing the city street in front of the apartment building and located King George. King George had run a fat lumpy body across the city street, huffing through a plot of manicured grass and wildflowers toward a new set of apartment buildings. King George could hide and seek anywhere within the city limits, but Stu had memorized the local streets blocks of the London town for such an emergency in case of trouble or an annoying QA client.

Stu leaped from a run, soaring into the air and landed on the back heel of King George, hearing rapid fire bullets. The discharge shots dinged against the cobble stones of the city street from the enemy of King George. Stu turned and rested on top of King George, emptying the razor clip from his Ghost into a second dark alleyway as King George cursed and struggled underneath a big and wide Stu.

Then each QA guard secretly hidden inside a stationary car, an exposed door frame, a high rooftop, or walking over a exposed sidewalk answered back with a set of bullets, destroying all the glass windows, the red bricks of the alleyway, and numerous pink body parts with a rifle or a pistol gun until the movement of the shadows ceased and died. Then Stu flipped out the QA client, landing on one kneecap and reached, grabbing and strangling the throat of King George with the other hand with a growl. "This ain't a drill, asshole."

Tom, Frank, and Austin ran backward from the apartment building and across the city street, aiming a Ghost at each window and door frame, looking for more villains and stopped, surrounding Stu and King George over the manicured grass.

Stu lifted and handed off his Ghost to a skull bandaged pissed-off Austin, complimentary doctoring work of Frank.

Austin accepted and aimed both the Ghosts down at each eyeball of the QA client, saying with a growl. "Cuff his ass!" Tom and Frank turned around and aimed a Ghost at the other body parts of QA client also. Stu reached and grabbed, slapping a pair of handcuffs on the two wrists of the QA client with a sneer in silence. "Roll out!" Austin said his favorite command and slowly pivoted from the asshole QA client, swiftly running ahead and led all them back to the parked QA bullet proof vehicles.

King George had finally arrived safely at the courthouse as an eye witness within an open public murder trial.

The Quartet left the courthouse for the private airport and then home to the USA.

Present day and place

Dungeon of Frank

12:01 p.m.

I ended my daydream, staring down at the black colored words, exhaling with a huff of frustration, reading in silence on page number 621.

The digestive tract or guts, or gastrointestinal tract, or GI tract was a set of organs, taking in food and then digested it for body energy while expelling the remainder of wasted nutrient matter out from the human body. The major functions were ingestion, digestion, absorption, and defecation.

"Food enters my lips then exits my butthole," I chuckled then gurgled with a wet throat, turning to see the wall clock, showing lunchtime. My stomach growled.

Tom would have likely verbalized that creative expression, if he were here to lecture Frank about the human body gut and biological functions.

I missed Tom. I bet that my brothers are spread across the city, scouting the city for my absent ass missing lunch, too.

12:04 p.m.

City of Coral Gables (31 miles north of Florida City)

33rd floor business suite setting

Head attorney Thomas Edison Sawyer, III

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The door was opened.

Stu stopped and entered the office, standing inside the archway, staring with a smile at the nose profile on Sawyer. Tom..."

"No." Tom looked down with a stern face, working on the legal contracts.

"Thomas..."

"No." Tom continued to work on the legal contract.

"Thomas Edison..."

"Fucking, no, Stu," Tom continued to work on the legal contract.

Stu smiled. "There is food inside the twenty-first conference."

Tom looked up with a sour frown and a matching tone to see Stu inside the door. "Do you fucking think that I am falling for a second time for a wolf-call of food inside the twenty-first conference room?"

"Mrs. Appleton has returned with tables of food. I promise and die right here in your office."

Tom shook his bangs, pointing to the hallway with sour frown. "Don't die inside my office. Go fuck yourself and die inside your office."

Stu exhaled. "I am sorry that I lied the first time, Tom." He scooted a plate of food from behind his back spine with a smile and a nod.

His nose holes sniffed and smelled the food. Tom stood with a gasp and an open mouth. "That's a plate of food?"

Stu nodded with a smile. "Inside the same law library from this morning, there are many tables of food with numerous steaming trays of good smells. I promise, this time. Mrs. Appleton couldn't postpone the appointment of all the different food caterers for the picnic today at noontime. So we got a free lunch, bro. Let's go and eat up all the food, Tom." He back stepped with a smile from the archway, turning and moved to the elevators.

Tom stood with a smile from the chair as it slammed into the rear furniture piece. He turned and dashed to the archway, exiting his office, pulling up beside Stu with a smile, patting his stomach, "Yeah, too bad, Frank's sick and shitting out a massive supply of ugly colored turds, missing the new entrees today for the picnic day selection. He'll really miss this grand food fest."

Stu picked up a food time from the plate, chewing the food with a nod. "We should call him. See how Franks' doing?"

They stopped and stood in front of the elevator doors.

Tom pressed the button and shook his bangs and his hands with a sour frown. "Not before lunch, not after a full stomach, either. The bastard will enjoy detailing each shitty purple colored turd dump over the speaker phone like an asshole brother would truly do."

Stu swallowed the food with a nod. "Yeah, Franklin would do that to his loving brothers for revenge. Then I'd end up inside the bathroom, vomiting right back up all my delicious lunch. Okay, we see him at his house for dinner."

The elevator doors opened.

They entered the empty carriage and spun around to see the door close.

He elbowed Stu with a grin and a giggle. "I know." Tom turned and laughed at the nose profile on Stu. "We take a cell phone pic of each tray of food and then shove it underneath Frank's nose during dinner time. Then Frank can go and vomit up all his good tasting food back into each one of his pine smelly clean bathroom, all night long until midnight..."

"All night long until midnight..." Stu wiggled his hips with a hum and a smile.

"All night long until midnight...." Tom wiggled his hips and clapped with a hum and a smile too.

They laughed.

Present day and place

City of Florida City (35 miles south of Coral Gables)

Dungeon of Frank

12:05 p.m.

I snorted a puff of air and sneezed out stream of mucus, wiping the clear mucus from the two nose holes and the upper lip with a hand. Then my hand flung the mucus into the air and over the stone coral floor.

The GI tract was twenty feet long and consisted of the upper and lower gastrointestinal tract. The upper GI tract was composed of the mouth, the pharynx, the esophagus, the stomach, the buccal cavity, and the openings of the salivary glands, the tongue, and all the teeth. The lower tract comprised mostly the intestines, small and large, the colon, rectum, and the anus. The pathology conditions affecting the digestive system were cholera, colorectal cancer, diverticulitis, enteric duplication cyst, gastroenteritis, giardiasis, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, pancreatitis, peptic ulcer disease, and appendicitis. The gastrointestinal tract was a prominent part of the immune system which was estimated to be a surface square footage area of a football field.

I sneezed out a stream of puke green snot then gurgled back down the left over thick mucus through my throat muscle, wiping off the snot with a naked hand, flipping more glossy pages to see the immune system with the other hand. I wiped the snotty hand on the side of the ratty chair with a whisper. "I wished that I was home with Misty. She would take good care of me. I bet she is with Stu, hunting around the city of Miami for my ass, too. I am here, Misty." I closed my eyelids and thought of my wife.

12:06 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Mangrove, III

Coral Lane Three

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Front door setting

The front door opened.

Misty gasped and back stepped with a smile and a nod to her two uninvited house guests, "Hi, Janey and Gracie."

Gracie stood on the front porch with a smile and a nod. "We're going to lunch on Miracle Mile and then go shopping for the day. Do you want to come with us, Misty?"

Misty wore a purple outfit with an assortment of amethyst jewelry, shaking her bracelets and her curls. "That's so nice, sisters. I'm going to have lunch with Frank at the office. We order food from the downstairs cafeteria."

Gracie frowned. "Is it scheduled?"

Misty gasped. "I beg your pardon."

Gracie exhaled. "If your lunch date is not schedule, you can't eat with Frank at his office."

Misty shook her curls with a stern face. "I usually don't schedule my lunch date with Frank."

Gracie nodded with a stern face. "Yes, you do. Yes, I do. Yes, we do. We do because our men are very, very busy at the office. I don't know what is going on there, but Stu has been working long, long hours..."

Jane nodded with a sour frown, wearing a blue skirt and a green silk blouse, "Tom, too..."

"Frankie, three..." Misty frowned. "Well, my lunch date is not scheduled. And Frankie didn't call me this morning, either." She exhaled. "That explains his missing telephone call. So I will eat lunch with my sisters. So what is going on at Quartet Associates?"

Gracie back stepped and swung around, waiting on Misty.

The three females marched ahead to the limousine of Gracie.

Gracie stared ahead with a stern face at the open rear door of the limousine. "I don't know. Stu is not nervous as much as he is excited. He runs around the house, slamming open cabinets and closets, cleaning out old stuff all the time. He doesn't want to talk but he is very, very happy. Is Tom acting strange to you, Janey?"

They stopped and scooted into the rear bench seat of the limousine.

Jane sat beside Gracie with a stern face to see Misty. "No, he is more relaxed lately. But he is starting to work on his first science fiction novel. Well, that is stranger than before. I really didn't notice it until you mentioned, Gracie. What is going on at Quartet Associates?"

Gracie reached up and touched the button on the rooftop of the cabin. The rear door of the limousine closed shut. The limousine moved forward from the home of Misty, steering over the street of Coral Lane, leaving Coral Beach for the city street of Miracle Mile in the city of Coral Gables.

Misty frowned with a nod to each sister. "We should stop by there and inquire with our husbands. I'm worried about Frankie, too. He stays inside his study, working on something in the early, early mornings and after dinnertime until midnight."

Gracie snapped her fingers with a smile and a nod, looking to each sister. "That's it, finally. Austin has finally meet and approved of wife material. He must be planning to get married. Stu is cleaning out all the overcrowded cabinets and closets, so we can purchase items for a baby..."

Jane gasped. "A baby, are you having a baby, Gracie?"

Gracie frowned. "Not yet! But that makes sense to me. Stu is clearing out the old for the new, a baby. The deal between the four non-blood related brothers is that when Austin marries a girl then the entire band of brothers will have a newborn baby all at the same time just like their set of biological parents and their grandparents..."

"Yes!" Misty clapped with joy. "A baby, I desire to have a baby for a very long time."

Gracie clapped with a smile and a nod, "Me, too!"

"Me, three!" Jane clapped with a nod and a grin too."

Gracie nodded with a smile to each sister. "So, we will not disturb our working men. We will go to lunch and then go shopping at the baby super store on Miracle Mile. We should purchase a couple of baby booties and show our husbands to acknowledge the secret and our approval, sisters."

"Yes." Misty nodded with a smile.

"Yes. "Jane nodded with a smile.

Present day and place

12:07 p.m.

City of Florida City

(35 miles, south, from Coral Beach)

Dungeon of Frank

Page number 659 in chapter number 44 on the topic: Immune system

I listened, hearing the soft snorting from the set of three jelly molds, thinking out loud of the solution. "Hmm, the immune system might hold the medical key to healing these monsters in turn save a medical life unlike Richard," grunting.

Six years ago

Tuesday June 5th

Country of Italy

4:04 p.m.

Rental villa

Hot temperatures and bright sunlight

The pretty young mistress screamed in protest, regarding her social mistreatment and the lack of luxury items inside a cheaply decorated Italian villa that housed a swarm of blue six-legged insects.

Sleepy Stu charged into the living room and stopped with a sour frown, staring down at the smiling mistress. He sneered and grunted, dropping down a drawn Ghost to a kneecap, without words.

I turned and winked with a smirk to my sofa buddy Tom in silence.

Tom turned and smiled to Frank. "I dare for you to snatch Stu's Ghost from his sweaty palms." He tossed a hand full of raw peanuts into the air, catching and chuckling with a set of parted lips.

The mistress tossed the pillow against the sofa, screaming again in protest of her vile mistreatment and the lack of luxury inside the cheap villa.

Stu lifted and raised his Ghost, aiming at her suntanned forehead with a growl. "Sit down, shut up, and be quiet for the next six hours or something very, very bad..."

She spun around with a giggle and a grin, marching to the wide glass window and pirouetted to the oversized pretty yellow and white chair, sitting down on her ass. She crossed her legs, staring at the flying blue colored birds through the glass with a smile.

All the eardrums heard a loud pop.

Tom turned with a sour frown to stare at the exit hole from the flying bullet in the rear of her skull. Her face slumped forward into the chin. Sawyer turned and giggled with a smile to Gage. "Stu, you're not supposed to kill the fucking bitch ever though she was an obnoxious cunt. Holy fucking shit!" Tom turned and smiled to Frank. "What do we tell our client, now, Frank? Ya got a kind believable suggestion," he laughed and sipped on the warm beer, dampening the taste of the salty peanuts.

The door opened.

"Damn it to hell!" Austin was serving his time as the outside QA guard in front of the villa and shoved the shoulder of fully paid QA client, the man of the dead mistress, into the villa. He kicked the door shut, making a boom sound.

Stu, Austin, and Frank stood and shifted into a triangle formation around the QA client, automatically shuffling into a trained and practiced Quartet standard defensive tactic, surrounding a successful assassin.

The Quartet did not like losing anything on an assignment mission, since the lost item smeared their spotless security reputation with the fully paid Quartet Clients and any future money collecting QA client prospects. The mistress was dead, not needing any more Quartet protection.

The QA client/assassin stupidly slid toward from the Quartet triangle toward the closed archway.

Research studies of human behavior had investigated and concluded that there were two automatic muscle reflexes, when a person was cornered like a gray mouse by the house tomcat, flee or fight.

Stu shoved with a fist punch into the face of QA client/assassin back into the QA triangle, guarding the closed front door archway.

The young handsome rich elegantly mannered QA client male sneered at Stu and turned, growling at Austin, and finally swung around to snarl at Frank. None of the Quartet backed off from an upcoming fight or fun as Stu shoved the scared QA client back into the human triangle, pulling out his Ghost from the trousers and lifted, aiming it at the angry QA client.

I stared at the stupid QA client, who had messed with the wrong set of assholes on the lovely planet Earth, wondering what physical or mental move the husband of our QA client couple might try with his limited physical strength. If the Quartet backed down, then their tough guy reputation would be highly questioned by the other QA clients and the QA enemies. If the four brothers stood their ground, then the QA client would be harmed or something else.

My mental processing pattern suggested, shooting the toes off the client to yield the needed answers to the many wandering questions. I folded both my naked arms with a snort of amusement, watching Austin, Stu, and the QA client converse the Quartet way.

His eyelids narrowed and sweat beads dropped down from a distorted face as his fists knotted in white. Stu had entertained his share of fist fights, winning and losing since middle school. The QA client lounged and rammed a shoulder into big and wide Stu, trying to reach the closed front door as Austin reached and punched another black bruise into the face of the QA client.

Tom sat on the sofa, draining the last drop of the warm beer and burped with a giggle, standing and wiping off his hands with a grin and joined the QA fun, lifting and pushing the barrel of his Ghost into the chest of the QA client with a growl. "Give it up, Richard!"

Richard surrendered both arms, covering in red blood from a busted nose bridge and a lower lip, bowing down a chin into his chest. His body dropped down onto the floor into a cross-legged position. His visual red cuts and blue bruises would heal quickly, but his mental memory of the passing moment swirled with dizziness inside a lost mind. The Quartet had elevated him to the next level, QA prisoner.

Richard lifted a bruised face, saying and thumbing to the dead mistress inside the chair. "I do not give a damn about my current reputation or money. She was going to be turned over the Italian authorities for murdering my bitch wife, whom I killed last night. Both my wife and my wife's lover are dead, too," laughing with a grin. "My simple plan was so easy. Pop her inside the villa and then scat like a cat and find me another pretty mouse," laughed and then sobered, looking up with a stern face to see Austin. "I'm the master here. I paid your exuberant American fees. And I paid extra for my mistress too. I demand a monetary refund, since I had performed your protection service free of charge, without you, four assholes," chuckling.

Each fourth of the Quartet exhaled with a puff of annoyance, hearing the truth confession and turned with a stern face to stare at each other in silence, reading each other's mental minds like a set of biological brothers. Then Stu, Austin, and Tom turned and moved to the closed archway in silence.

The door opened.

I leaned down and jerked the arm of Richard in silence, up righting the body into full height and turned, shoving him to the open down, down the steps of the villa, moving to sedan car.

Austin held the rear car door with one hand and his Ghost near an earlobe with the other, in case the QA client had another non-named partner that might be located around the rented villa, scanning the grounds of the manicured lawns and the windows of the other villas.

Tom opened the front door and jumped into the passenger seat as shotgun.

Richard stopped and entered into the rear bench seating as Austin and I slid into the rear bench with Richard for protection.

Stu opened the driver's door and scooted inside, cranking the cold engine, allowing it to warm.

Austin stared with a stern face at the nose profile on the QA client to Stu. "Roll out!"

Stu slowly drove the sedan through the pre-dawn darkness into a wooded forest which was several miles from the nearest residential villa and pulled onto a gravel road, killing the warm engine.

The four doors opened.

I scooted out my car door. "Get out." I reached into and grabbed the arm of Richard, dragging him over the bench seating and into the dull sunlight of dusk. I reached and shoved the shoulder of Richard toward a grove of thick healthy trees.

Austin and Stu slid out of the sedan, standing in place and surveyed the woodlands for wandering hikers.

Tom dashed beside Frank and shoved the shoulder of Richard into a dark shady spot of pine trees with a sneer, "That way."

I followed behind the asses of Stu and Austin down the forest path into the deep dark woods and stopped, parking within a QA diamond formation around Richard.

Stu turned and nodded with a stern face in silence to Austin in the sinking sunset. Then Austin turned and nodded with a stern face in silence to Tom. Tom turned and nodded with a stern face to Frank. I turned and nodded with a stern face in silence to Stu. Then each Quartet turned and stared at Richard inside the QA diamond formation.

Richard didn't want to die, coming from a world of luxury and riches and then stupidly murdered three humans for his married wife's love affair with another male. The lover of Richard's wife could have been killed by the Quartet as ordered by the QA client which was part of the legal binding security contract of paid monetary fees as cited as a QA enemy.

Richard chuckled then sobbed with a set of tears, understanding the Quartet way, too late. He had successfully executed a cold blooded triple murder and tested both the integrity and tenacity of the Quartet within the spying eyeballs and eardrums of the rest of the world.

The other fully paid QA clients and annoying QA enemies would hear the true tale of Richard, keeping all the little boys and girls in line from a tongue of slimy gossip or hearsay. The Quartet did not hate or love their QA clients, since this was a cold blooded unemotional money making business company.

Whatever the reason, Richard had made peace within his soul with a nod in silence to Austin, the leader of the Quartet. He wasn't the only assassin to walk on a pair of new leathers on planet Earth, now. However, he had crossed the line, murdering his wife, her lover, and his mistress to protect his ego.

The bang sounded immediately.

The single bullet disturbed the birds into flight from the tree limbs and the squirrels into hiding among the tree branch when Stu spin around to see the sunset, walking last behind Austin, Frank, and Tom, coming from the dark woods.

Present day and place

Dungeon setting of Frank

12:44 p.m.

I exhaled with a huff of annoyance as the medical words blurred within my eyeballs. "If they die, I die..."

I was trapped here underneath the soil and inside a damp cave until my three brothers found and rescued me, before I was buried too deeply inside a make-shift cave of Florida City. I coughed then sneezed with a stream of mucus snot. I blew out the extra mucus from my two holes as the mucus landed onto the tiny blanket.

The key was not the immune system for the three sisters, re-focusing on the medical issue, shaking my skull, since I did not visually see any type of colorful tumors on the surface of the three pale tinted jelly molds.

The immune system picked up and pinpointed out any type of visual defective or deformed ugly skin tumor with accuracy, without any type of state-of-the-art medical equipment based on the jelly mold-like yellowish-white smooth tissues of the three sisters. Thus, I did not see any colored deformed lesions. Tumors were transform cells which were not normally found inside a set of normal cells. So the immune system could identify the antigens as a foreign cell and then the immune cells viciously attacked the transformed tumor cells.

I looked up with a smile from the book to see the forward stone wall. The wall was bleeding a set of wet balls from the moisture of the water inside the ground. "You are a very fascinating person, Frank," chuckling and gurgled with a wet throat. "Thank you for that wonderful compliment, Dr. Mangrove." I answered back with a chuckle of silliness at the moment. "Just keep thinking, Frank! I feel that you might yet find the medical solution very soon, solving all your social problems," grinning. "Thank you so very much for your overconfidence, Dr. Mangrove." I chuckled with a gurgle. "You are very welcome, Frank." I grinned at my insanity moment of my witty sick humor, cutting my eyelids down to the black colored medical words.

I hadn't done this much academic homework, since my first year of medical school, where Jace and I studied together before, during, and after food meals. I wished that Jace were here, too. He would immediately figure out the medical problem, offer a medical solution, and then initial a medical treatment to the three sisters as a caring physician.

"Save the people and save me, Jace," I whined my wish into the damp air, chuckling with a gurgle of a wet throat of delight. "Then my favorite war god Stuart will unmercifully cut out each thing's healthy heart for viciously kidnapping me with a plastic food knife. Actually, Austin, Stu, and Tom will take turns, torturing and tormenting each sister until dead." I exhaled with a huff of delusion of a nasty day dream then snorted, sneezing out a stream of mucus snot. I wiped off the two nose holes and the upper lip with a dirty hand. Then the dirty hand dropped and slapped the side of the ratty chair for cleaning. "I bet the guys are panicked looking for me. If only I could signal them, then they could find me faster or quicker or swifter."

I roughly coughed and violently sneezed as a stream of gooey puke green snot did not leave the wet area of a right nasal nostril. So, I plucked it off and rubbed the sticky puke green boogers on the side of the ratty lounge chair for cleaning again.

I did not feel well.

If I could lounge outdoors in the hot Florida sunshine, then I might feel better, of instead resting a semi-naked body inside a secret underground cave where I was locked, sealed, padded, and guarded, as well as, cold and damp.

"I ain't going to nowhere." I quoted one of Tom's favorite improper grammatical phrases with a chuckle and then cleared a wet throat of gurgle, violently sneezing out a stream of gooey puke green snot. The snot fired and landed on top of the blanket as I looked down with a sour frown, reading in silence more of the immunity system.

Passive immunity was a protective immunity that transferred artificially from one person to another, using an antibody rich serum, or in this case, a tiny brown liver of a newborn babe. During pregnancy, a particular antibody IgG was transported from the mother to the baby directly across the placenta, so the baby possessed high levels of antibodies, even at birth. The fetus did not create the antibodies but borrowed them. The use of a passive immunity for a short-term clinical treatment could last from a few days to several months, thus a viable solution for my problem, since I was seeking an inherited medical problem to get me the hell out of here.

I exhaled with a huff of annoyance and violently sneezed, feeling nausea and then gagged deep down inside my esophagus.

I slowly stood, dropping the textbook and blanket down into the chair, shifting to the table and stopped, standing in place. I reached and lifted the water pitcher into a face, nosily drinking like a caveman barbarian from the plastic spout and washed down some of the nasal mucus inside my esophagus and slapped the warm water pitcher back down onto the table surface without a splash of water.

Newborn infants had no prior exposure to microbes and were particularly vulnerable to infection.

I released the water pitcher and spin around to see the three sisters. The ancient people could possess a simple infection like Frank, maybe a few common cold symptoms, such like, coughing, sneezing, and runny nose. Each immune system was shot to hell as a 150 years old...correction...106 years old life form as Babe lied.

I wiggled my body around in a circle on top the cold floor, circulating some hotter blood flow down into my cold and naked toenails and turned, grabbing another textbook, flipping through the pages to the immune system context. I stopped and briefly studied the immune biological systems of rats, cats, goats, and humans. I flipped the page, reading with a whisper. "There's no way in hell these people have an immune system that functions properly." I slapped the book shut with a boom and turned, replacing it back onto the crowded book shelf with a whisper. "They live on the liver juice of a newborn babe." I had repeated that sick-o statement from Babe, reaching and selected a medical textbook of the female reproductive organs. "Think, Frankie boy. You're a genius smart ass as Tom doesn't say but defiantly knows," I chuckled with a gurgle of delight.

If I were a real physician, then I would be in private practice with Dr. Jace. Then I could order my brilliant medical partner to quickly uncover the mysterious ailment and cure these slimy monsters. Then I would be back home with Misty, listening to Mozart's Quartet, drinking a cup of English tea with three scoops of pure cane sugar, enjoying the company of my wife. I chuckled with a gurgle of love.

I quickly sobered with a sour frown, turning to view the closed curtain, theorizing a set of new medical conditions. "The sisters cannot eat, drink, give birth, or menstrual," I cleared a wet throat, looking down with a sour frown to see the book, flipping to the new section, adolescent overweight teens for a new clue.

I whispered, scanning the black colored medical words inside the academic textbook. "Where are the boys? I've been here for two hours," I looked up to see an old analog clock and cut my eyelids down to the page, "Nothing here either." I slapped the book shut and turned, replacing it back onto the crowded book shelf.

I should have jotted down the previously previewed clinical medical topics, since I could not seem to recall which biological systems I had studied so far, being very hungry with a growling belly. I did remember reading about the digestive system as the cold air on my body had triggered my memory that I had read the circulatory system too.

I turned and stared at the tapping fingers on smooth table surface, since my father performed this ticking habit when highly annoyed at Uncle Soy. Uncle Soy was the mysteriously nickname for the biological father on Tom, who possessed the same surname and surly personality. Frank's father and Uncle Soy always barked, bit, and peed on each other's dick even in an elder state of maturity...correction...immaturity.

Like fathers, like sons!

Tom and I shared that same non-biological trait, strangely ever. Truthfully there, Tom was just an asshole.

I chuckled with a gurgle of amusement.

I felt pious party pity for Aunt Martha, birthing a baby boy like Tom and felt deeply relieved that Thomas was an only toddler. Frank's mother often taunts her non-biological Quartet sisters and the non-biological Quartet aunts at the kitchen breakfast table during the morning coffee chat as I had accidentally overheard the motherly conversation, passing through looking for any tea flavor but green colored during a weekly parental visit to West Palm Beach, Florida.

Frank's mother enjoyed a pretend fairy tale talk about raising a set of pretty playful kittens (girls), instead of a litter of tough tumbleweed pups (Austin, Tom, Stu, and her biological son Frank). Her private and personal pretend chitty girly conversation didn't assault the manly senses or male ego of her son Frank.

Since, I found myself daydreaming of raising a tender-hearted baby girl with Misty facial features, such like, a set of almond-shaped eye sockets, a cute button nose, and a bright smile, instead of a rough boyish life form. I prayed daily that Janey did not delivery another Tommy-boy like Thomas Edison Sawyer, III, since there were two, many physically and metaphorically Thomas Sawyers on planet Earth.

I snorted then sneezed out a stream of puke green snot, collecting and wiping the green boogers on a hand. Then the snotty hand decorated the surface table for funny annoyance. The echo taps of my finger pads between a set of two eardrums inside the cave provided a new clinical topic, the nervous system. I exhaled with a huff of frustration and turning, moving and sat down my boxers inside the ratty chair, shifting the tiny blanket over my semi-naked body and planted the same biology book over my sensitive body part, reading n silence.

Page 462 in chapter number 31 on the topic: Nervous system

1:01 p.m.

The nervous system was a network of cells that communicated information to the body and surroundings neurons and glial cells. The neurons generated and conducted a set of impulses between the peripheral and central nervous system.

The peripheral nervous system was a set of sensory impulses for the nerve cord, the spinal cord, and the brain. This was called the central nervous system which processed and conducted a set of wave signals back down to the muscles glands.

I skipped over the glossy technical drawings and stopped on page number 475. The important evolution within a complex nervous system made it all possible for any species to possess advanced perception abilities, such like, sight, language, abstract concepts, and complex social interactions. The perception abilities included the five classical senses of touch, taste, sight, smell, and sound powered by the nervous system. The complex senses were equilibrioception, the sense of gravity and also nociception, the sense of pain.

I turned and viewed the curtain with a grunt. The three sisters might feel a pain or a pleasure sensation. I violently shuddered from my hair roots down to my dirty and naked toe nails, not desiring to touch a pinky finger for a physical sensation, unless I could toss a lighted fire crack on a yellowish-white jelly belly blob for my brilliance medical experiment. So, I will wait for my brothers, because they would touch the three sisters either but cause lots of intense pain with a Ghost. I laughed with a gurgle of a wet throat. Then a glob of puke green snot hit the bottom page of the book. I flicked it away with a dirty fingernail and slapped it shut. "Nothing here either."

I looked up with a sour frown and stared at the forward stone wall that was streaked with a set of tiny specks of neon greenish lime water stains from an outside poor drainage system as I really regretted leaving them behind, since I did not bring all my electronic equipment which was lovingly given to me by an overprotective brother Stu.

I recited the passage from the poem of Robert Frost The Road Not Taken which was published in the year 1916 and it had been written at his home.

The poet Frost wrote the poem for his friend Edward Thomas. The friends were walking inside the forest woodlands near the city of London, England. While talking and sightseeing, they came upon two different pathways and then choose a direction. After choosing the selected pathway, Thomas always fretted not taking the other foot path.

Presently, the lesson of the poem was used for inspiration for not following, where others had led. Or the poem told that the choice was inevitable, but you never knew what your choice would mean until you had lived it.

I gurgled with a set of nasal mucus inside a wet and tight throat with a whisper. "I have taken the other road, Mr. Frost. The other road has landed and ended me inside a dark dunk stationary underground damp and wet cold cave," I coughed and gagged on more of the thick nasal mucus inside a wet and tight throat.

I liked to venture off on my own while breaking one of the three precious Quartet's rules. The number one rule was stated: No solo performances. Austin was going to kick my ass from here on Earth, down into hell, then back up into heaven, and then finally back down into hell. I gurgled and cough, gagging on more of the nasal snot inside a wet and tight throat.

I vividly recalled all the numerous times when Tom had created, caused, continued, and escaped trouble as a small child, a young teenager, a wild college student, and an immature young adult. After marriage to Janey, Tom's trouble ceased permanently.

Today, however, for some odd reason, Tom seemed to have temporarily transferred that "bad boy" behavior pattern to Frank by the method of osmosis. I was never in mega trouble before being kidnapped by my own selfish doing. "Why haven't they found me?" I groaned in frustration, turning with a worried brow to see the wall clock.

I exhaled with a huff of frustration, not possessing one of the following items, such like, my personal limousine, my luxury sedan, my mobile telephone, my beeper, my personal laptop, my business card, my wallet, my roll of money, my designer watch, my personal monogrammed handkerchief or my loving wedding band. "Asshole! I'm an asshole," I kicked my own sorry ass in the figurative sense, staring down at the page of words without comprehending the meaning.

Austin had lectured over and over again to each one of us on a daily basis with the three precious rules. No solo performances. No dynamic duos. No thrilling trios.

"The Quartet is together under and over water and weather." Stu said to Frank yesterday during lunchtime.

I exhaled with a huff of annoyance, "My fault, I had disobeyed royally. That's Tom's job, not mine."

Tom will be delighted to see Frank, safe and sound, since this was not his fault. He will hug Frank, tightly squeezing the blood out of Frank's brain cells. Stu will reprimand hard, giving a black and blue mark on the arm of Frank without Gracie's knowledge. And Austin will tan the ass of Frank for this silly kidnapping adventure of a billionaire brother.

I gurgled with a cough, gagging on more nasal snot inside a wet and tight esophagus.

The oldest non-biological brother Austin was born first into the litter of pups on the calendar date of August thirteen. He would never be caught with his boxer brief down and around his ankles in a dangerous situation like this, since Austin did not possess compassion, sympathy, or a biological heart.

I always thought that Almighty God provided every Earth-bound soul with that particular semi-round pinkish-red interior biological organ, but I was most mistaken when it came to Austin Berrington, the fourth. I snorted and sneezed out a stream of green snot, wiping the matching boogers from my two holes and upon the side of the ratty chair.

Austin was not the true biological brother of Frank Mangrove, because he did not possess a bleeding heart like Mangrove. I gurgled with a cough, gagging on more thick rich nasal mucus inside a wet and tight esophagus.

Austin and his personality was stirring, patriotic, enthusiastically, methodical, calm, and totally controlled within a set of deeply held emotions and a series of serious physical actions. He could solve a problem of peace and war, ignorance and prejudice, poverty and surplus, threats and treaties with the lift of a telephone or the lift of a polished fingernail as his brothers, his employees, his associates, his friends, his clients, and his foes all obeyed. Austin was the leader, who was birthed and born to lead, rule, and conquer the American frontier along with the world's land masses, if the edit could be applied here. Every person looked up to see Austin, watching him on top of the heavenly pedestal around the clock.

Tom was the science fiction wizard within the Quartet. Yet, Sawyer was not the slick star ship captain or the master of magic or the evil villain, because Austin dominated and embodied those particular science fiction characters inside Tom's reading novels.

Austin ran Quartet Associates with a whisper as an American business icon. He displayed exuberance, impetuousness, seriousness, and intelligence. He possessed a hawk and a dove personality, a humble and arrogant demeanor, and a futurist and traditionalist attitude. Berrington was a deep thinker, a voracious knowledge seeker, a common sense dude, a populist, an anti-elitist, a no-win scenario player, who pushed the edge of the business envelope into a next deadly disastrous danger situation.

Austin thought outside the box. Actually, Berrington would let Stu think outside the box for him and then gave every person the credit for a job well done. Austin lived for the fast-approaching chaos, upheaval, and conquests as a dark driven loner and a lover of intimate females that he employed for his pleasure, solely and absolutely.

Austin was a robust wooer of the female population, day and night, an international babe magnet no matter the hair color on the girl. He was the ultimate gangster of love. However, his ongoing bad habit of dating an assortment of beautiful sluts, tramps, and vamps was delaying the non-biological family agreement of marriage and babies that the four brothers made as a set of teenagers.

I did not care if the jelly molds felt pain or delight within their nervous system, but I did feel betrayed by my three brothers for not finding and rescuing me, immediately, now, right this moment. I had betrayed Misty, not being able to contact her with my wandering whereabouts.

I flipped the page seeing the word, surgery.

Page 892 in chapter number 46 of the topic: General Surgery

1:18 a.m.

The word surgery reminded me of the Quartet physician Justin Jace Jackson, Junior, MD on his first Quartet mission as a paid QA employee of Quartet Associates.

Seven years ago

Tuesday June 1st

Quartet Tower

11:11 a.m

Conference room three setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Quartet Associates, the company was birthed and formed after our drunken Miami-Dade University graduation ceremony from medical school, law School, and graduate School, finally ending the carefree academic fun life.

The Quartet immediately recruited an array of young and inexperienced men and women in the vital role of Quartet Associates (QA) guards for the security protection of local, national, and international very important people all over the world.

Jace was employed as the new physician, instructing a series of First Aid classes to all QA guards plus building a private practice within the city of Miami.

Thursday July 1st

Quartet Tower

8:08 a.m.

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy with sunshine

My brothers and I inherited from our biological fathers one billion dollars, not bad for a group of four twenty-three-year-old kids, without working jobs, work experience, and no experience of the working world. Then, the Quartet paid for a tower building, office furniture, weapons, protective body gear, electronics, vehicles, office supplies, and desk computers, and the coffee machine inside the employee break lounge room.

Uncle Soy said with a stern face to each young Quartet fourth. "Pieces of gawd damn pressed colored ribbons and fake wood does not matter, if you do not have the hard ass experience to back up the fucking right decision and then make a shitty butthole wrong decision that will cost you lots of money, time, and lives." Soy was correct of course, but Frank would never tell that to Uncle Soy and his bigger ego.

By the tender age of twenty-three years old, Tom had studied underneath the best legal mind in the USA, his father. Tom had learned legal law issues, decisions, and protocols, making Tom young, not green. Tom had accompanied his dad into every legal environment, day and night, morning, brunch, afternoon, and supper, absorbing all the real-life law events into his young intelligent active sharp mind.

If Uncle Soy was called for any legal advice, then Tom tagged along, wearing a new business suit with a new matching leather briefcase. The only time Tom separated from his dad and his dad's legal workload was attending all the required law school academic classes. And the experience and college classes paid off big time for Tom and his newly formed company Quartet Associates.

The first legal contract was flawless and signed by an elder Chinese couple with a set of three young sons, who were royalty descendants of an old and dead emperor. The young sons were reclassified for legal working purposes as three royal princes.

Austin and his father entertained the first client. Tom and his father handled the legal contract. Stu and his father assigned the QA guard unit.

I and my father collected the money fee for the first QA clients.

The first QA client was the highest risk with lives and money along with the lives and money for the VIP paid protection.

Quartet Associates breathed, without the fire and ice. Once the elderly couple bragged about their royal treatment from the Quartet, the word spread around planet Earth. Verbal offers led into columns of signed legal documents with stacks of millions of dollars for VIP client protection.

Friday June 30th

Quartet Associates headquarters building

5:55 p.m.

Conference room three

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

After the money checks had cleared the bank and the legal papers had dropped down into the cabinet, every gawd damn slime ball wanted to dethrone the Quartet. The number one team always played with worse opponents until the end of the fighting season.

One year and two months later

Thursday August 18th

Quartet Associates headquarters building

Tom, Austin, Stu and I ran around the world, beating bodies, fighting animals, kicking asses, cursing words, dodging bullets, and leaping buildings in a single bound, just kidding about the leaping. My brothers and I encountered bad guys, bad gals, and bad grandmas one after another trying to steal our paying clients.

My brothers and I flew, sailed, and paddled and then rolled planes, cars, trucks, vans, limos, equipment, guns, supplies, guards, translators, spies, snitches, corrupt police, and more corrupt government officials back and forth until dead, just kidding surrendered. We worked twenty four hours, seven days per week protecting the precious body parts along with the precious extended family's body parts, to boot.

Wednesday November 23rd

Thanksgiving holiday week

Quartet Associates headquarters building

33rd floor business office setting

Chief Operating Officer Stuart Thant Gage, III

9:09 a.m.

Warm temperatures and bright sunshine

The telephone sounded with a ting inside the office of Stu with an emergency, the first challenge of the Quartet and Quartet Associates. The three royal princes had been kidnapped from their home in the country of China.

Quartet Associates was in debt by ten billion dollars with ten and nine zeros. The brothers decided after the Christmas holiday to fold up and terminated the company, since the elder Quartet would pay off the debt, allowing their millionaire sons to continue a private life of fun, play, and leisure. However, Austin, Stu, Tom, and I did not want to cease the operations of Quartet Associates, desiring separate fame and fortune from their famous biological fathers.

The security protection concept seemed like a good idea before the post-college graduation ceremony. Austin had studied the other famous billionaires, such as, Gates for computers, Spielberg for films, Lucas for computer graphics, Buffet for insurance, and Brandon for airlines. Austin had desired to become one, too.

Tom, Stu, and I shared that same dream, ambition, and drive also.

By the age of twenty-four years and four months, the Quartet was quitting to retire and live the luxury life as each worried mother of the Quartet wanted for a precious son. Their mothers did not like the business, fearing a son hurt or dead. Each Quartet mission was dangerous and deadly successful, so far.

The three princes were kidnapped by a gang of local yahoos, looking to make some quick money from the rich parents of the whining children. The gang of yahoos had traveled east of the Chinese border and moved into enemy territory with the children. The Quartet was required to honor the legal contract, rescuing three children hostages before the December 31st termination.

However, Quartet Associates did not possess enough monetary funding to cover the needed supplies, planes, fuel, trucks, soldiers, guns, medical, and survival supplies plus pay Jace for the final fated last Quartet mission. Frank's father and the other Quartet fathers had to foot the entire financial bill for the Quartet rescue mission, since the young Quartet had no choice but go into the foreign country of Austria for a princely rescue.

Conference room three setting

10:10 a.m.

Warm temperatures and bright sunshine

The Quartet learned that the three kidnapped kids were located inside the borders of Afghanistan, a war zone of the United Nations versus Afghanistan.

Austin decided on two separate groups. One group was led by QA guard Zack and the other would be only the Quartet. Both teams planned to surround the yahoos, capture the kids back, and then return them back home safely in the middle of the night under the cloth of stealth.

In Afghanistan, the December weather was cold and windy. The sorry ass hut holding the kids was located down at the foot hills of a mountain range along the northeast boundary of China, not the desert.

I sat inside an afternoon meeting with my brothers.

Stu pointed with a stern face to the electronic presentation on one of the white solid wall inside the throne room of Austin. "The site, Afghanistan is geographically located within Central Asia and bordered by the country of Iran in the south and west directions with the country boundary of Pakistan along the south and east. Turkmenistan borders are north and China country is inside the far northeast. The country is divided in thirty-four provinces or welayats. Each welayat has a provincial district. Each district is covered several townships. The governor is appointed by the ministry of interior, using a set of prefects, which in turn, appoint a provincial governor. The provincial governor is the central government for both legal and illegal issues, while the welayat chief of police is the law enforcement for all the townships. There is not any governor, government or chief of police in the town of Nuristan, only ice, snow, mountains, reindeers, cougars, and black bears. The country is landlocked with a mountainous landscape with flat land plains in the north and southwest. The highest point is Nowshak, a 24,557 high feet peak high above sea level. The weather climate varies by region and tends to change quiet rapidly..."

I turned with a sour frown to see the expensive imported glass window, seeing an array of bright sunny skies, feeling the cold air conditioning breeze inside the executive office as the cold air hit my face, both my hands, and my nose.

The Quartet was facing a set of different weather and temperature conditions from a warm and comfortable Miami, Florida, USA.

Stu said. "Large parts of the country are dry and fresh water limited. The continental climate includes very harsh winters in the central highlands, where the Quartet is heading. It is a glacier-like northeast along the walking non-concrete sidewalks of Nuristan, the Wakhan Corridor. Inside village Nuristan, the average temperature is below five degrees Fahrenheit in the month of January to a high of ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit in the month of July. The country is frequented by shakes of minor earthquake activity mainly in the northeast Hindu Kush mountain range. Some one hundred twenty-four villages were damaged in the year 1998 by a quake, killing over four thousand people.

"The village's natural earth resources include gold, silver, copper, zinc, and iron ore in the southeast. Precious and semi-precious stones are lapis, emerald, and azure in the northeast, petroleum, and natural gas in the northeast. The country has uranium, coal, chromite, talc, sulfur, lead, and salt, mainly untapped due to the continued battle fighting wars.

"In the year 1994, the Taliban captured ninety-five percent of the population, restricting the people's freedom along with posting violations on human being rights. Since women are banned from jobs and girls are forbidden to attend academic school. Any criminal thieves are punished by amputating one of two hands or feet.

"In the year 200,1 the United States of America sent in military teams, invading Afghanistan to aid anti-Taliban militants and Al-Qaeda terrorists. About 60,000 troops from the United Nations armed forces joined the fighting with the American troops and were responsible for local police duties, maintaining civil order, and investigating illegal crimes. The UN and American led-teams provided the military control over the proper treatment detention of prisoners of war for both the local and regional low-lying plains, cities, and mountains areas.

Austin turned and said to each nose profile on the Quartet. "The Quartet supports any and all US foreign policy on war within the country of Afghanistan, but we aren't here to take up arms in support of the anti-Taliban resistance movement." He

I turned and viewed the small television screen with a set of the terrible images of war, exhaling with a puff of worry and sadness.

Stu continued the mission assignment, pointing at the television and looking at the wall. "These are some of the horrible visual sights that we'll see after landing and scouting around for the children photographs of a war-ravaged country side along with the streets and villages. People displayed fear and desperate. I want to emphasize here that the television stations polish and gleam out the rough stuff for the soft American family prime time. So, you can expect to see poverty, poor government, land mines, improper roads, power lines, and no water. There's a huge drug trade plus Taliban insurgent bomb and suicide attacks. The US has increased the military troop presence for longer tours of duty based on the new evidence of Pakistani ties to the Taliban movement.

"The capital is Kabul with a population of one million residents, where most of the fighting is located. The most dangerous place is Helmand, housing an active drug trade along with a high volume flow of an active Taliban insurgent force from the country of Pakistan into the borders of Afghanistan, the secret Taliban headquarters. The good news, there is a low risk of violence and a lower crime rate within a cold-ass welayat Farah, which is north of Helmand.

"The Afghan Government is currently fighting an insurgency force with the assistance of the US and NATO allies. Therefore, the relationship between Afghanistan officials and the NATO officials is strong. So, the Quartet's valuable resources can secretly sneak into the country, without being arrested, trialed, and convicted of trespassing, which is an instant death penalty without permission from the provincial governor.

"The natives of Afghan and Iran share the same language and culture, making the cultural relationship strong and useful for the Shites and Sunnis parties with no religious tension. All the Afghan and Pakistani military soldiers both flirt and fluctuate a personal alliance based on land disputes of re-building new construction homes within the war torn country with rumors that the rebel leaders are hiding inside Pakistan. There are land border skirmishes and several air strikes from the Afghan fighter jet air bases, keeping up the hostile tension in the air waves over the dry desert lands.

"Afghanistan has excellent political communication with the northern allies, including Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, as well as, good relations with both Russia and India, who's the leading investor in Afghan. It doesn't hurt that the Afghan natives depend upon multi-billion-dollar aid infusion from the US, Canada, France, United Kingdom, Australia, and Germany for food and money donations. Therefore, the Quartet adds in their dollars and cents contribution too, greasing a political right hand of one or two local welayat provincial law maker or abuser to enter the country from the east side near China.

"The entire national population of Afghanistan is thirty-three million people, the third largest population growth with two point seven million refuges that have been registered inside Pakistan and Iran. The most common language is Dari and Pashto. Ariana Airlines handles the domestic flights and international flights to Dubai, Saudi Arabia; Frankfurt, Germany, and Istanbul, India.

"We will be coming in from the country of China near a town called Peli with no taxi cabs, buses, shuttles, trains, planes or telephones or television. The national telecommunication services exist in the country for wireless, fibre optic cable networks, telephone, internet, television, and radio broadcast from the BCC World Service of the United Kingdom. And finally a postal service receives and carries mailed letters and small and large packages using both Federal Express and DHL. The Quartet mission includes, landing in China along the Himalayas range or the Himalayas or the abode of snow," Tom moaned. Austin grunted. Frank frowned. Stu laughed. "The mountain range includes the Karakoram, the Pamir Knot, and Hindu Kush."

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "You mentioned that proper name before, Stu."

Stu turned and smiled at Tom. "Thomas gets an A-plus for paying closest attention to my Sunday school lesson."

Tom turned and winked at Austin. "Great, I'd rather stay home inside my warm bed and let the other dumbass F-plus brothers go to up the mountainous cold-ass Hindu Kush," he chuckled with his brothers.

Stu smiled. "The Himalayan mountain system is Earth's highest two peaks, the Eight-thousanders which includes both Mount Everest and K2."

Tom exhaled with a huff of dread. "Who cares?"

I turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom. "Who cares? It is me, you, Stu, Austin, and the kids."

"Shut up, Frank!" Tom lifted and sipped the cold beer.

Stu said. "The outlying sub-ranges stretch across six foreign international country sides of Asia, Afghanistan, Bhutan, China, India, Nepal, and Pakistan. And the sub-ranges cross some of the world's major rivers the Indus, the Ganges, and the Brahmaputra, rising up into the Himalayas. The range runs west to east from the Indus River Valley to the Brahmaputra Valley forming an arc of 1,490 miles long."

Austin asked. "Dogs?"

Stu shook his baldness, "Snow mobiles."

Austin turned and frowned to Frank, "Expensive?"

I cringed needing to talk with my father about the expensive purchase, saying with a whsiper, "Ultimately expensive."

Stu turned and nodded to the wall. "We're landing on the ruins..."

"Wrong...ruins...walls...fortress...mountains... peaks..." Tom laughed.

"Shut up, Tom!" I turned and frowned to Sawyer.

Austin frowned, "Dogs?"

Stu turned and smiled to Austin. "No dogs. The ruins are on the top of the Hindus Rush Mountains, an ancient Chinese archaeological site that is nine miles west of the city of Turfan, Xinjiang province."

"Good pronunciation, Stuart." I nodded with a smile to Gage.

He smiled. "Thanks, Franklin." Stu turned and pointed to the wall again. "The site, along the Silk Road route, leads west for trading with Afghan natives and a military advantage point of ambush, in case of outlaws."

"Ninjas," Tom laughed and sipped the beer.

Stu turned and frowned at Tom. "Chinese outlaws are called ninjas."

"I'm not debating that stupid ass point, Stu." Tom frowned and sipped the beer.

"Excellent idea, Tom," Austin said. "Precede, Stu."

Stu turned and stared at the wall with the information. "From the years 108 BC to 450 AD, the city has rested on top of a large islet which is three hundred miles wide at the widest point in the middle of a river..."

"Water on a frozen mountain peak!?" Tom frowned.

Stu said. "The water has formed a natural defense barrier from invasions...."

"Lack of walls," Tom laughed.

"Due to the lack of wall formation, very good, Thomas," Stu grinned and pointed to the wall with the images and information. "The steep cliffs are located on all sides of a river that act as a set of natural vertical walls. The layout of the city has a western and an eastern foot trail, but the northern district is reserved only for the Buddhist temples. There are also graveyards."

"Covered by snow," Tom laughed and sipped the beer.

"The final destruction of this structure occurred during the invasion by the Mongols who were led by Genghis Khan in the thirteenth century." Stu said.

I smiled. "Ancient Chinese History, how's exciting, Stuart?"

"Get excited later, Frank," Tom frowned and finished the beer, placing the bottle on the floor beside his lounge chair.

Stu pointed to the wall. A gray and white tall rock structure was surrounded by flat white snow. "The Wakhan Corridor is narrow in some places less than ten miles wide with an impassable hallway of ice and snow, mostly white sandy slush. It is man-made as it was constructed at the end of the nineteenth century by the British Empire."

Tom laughed, "More graves..."

"...to act as a buffer against all the Russian military's ambitions during the Cold War. In the northern direction, there lies the Pamir River. The southern direction is the Broghol Pass, and the eastern direction is the Wakhan Corridor, the highest land mark of China." Stu nodded.

"You forget the time change, Big Man. UTC plus four thirty in Afghan, while UTC plus eight in China standard, meaning a right foot is eight am inside the Afghan snow and then a left, a left, a left, a right, a left foot moves you into 12:30 pm inside the Chinese border, after of course, you walk six miles, too cool," Tom chuckled.

"UTC or universal time coordinated or Zulu time is based on the international atomic time clock, including leap seconds which are added at irregular intervals to compensate for the Earth's slow rotation. You're very accurate, Thomas. You go to the head of the class, again." Stu chuckled.

Tom turned and winked with a smile to Austin. "I don't have to go, right, Austin?"

Austin smirked, "Wrong, pup!"

Stu said. "The Silk Road from the Jiaohe Ruins will lead us straight into the Wakhan Corridor and then directly into the small village of Nurestan, using the snow machines for a face and a foot transport. The Broghol Pass is closed six months out of the year and opened irregularly for the other four months..."

"Why may I ask?" Tom frowned.

Stu shook his baldness, viewing the wall, "Not relevant, Tom."

"Fucking hell, yeah, everything is relevant when my butthole's on the fucking death-line." Tom chuckled with his brothers.

Stu said. "The Corridor is sparsely populated which is estimated around nine thousand folks..."

"...freezing their asses to death," Tom chuckled.

"The people are called Wakhi or herders. The people suffer from the lack of education, poverty, ill health, food insecurity, and opium addition." Stu said.

"Drugs!?" I frowned with shock.

"The highway Broghol Pass is a drug smuggling route from China via Wakhan Pass to Afghanistan." Stu said.

"Great, I'm going to die, before I ever get marry." Tom slammed a hand on the small side table next to the chaise in the northeast wall corner in Austin's office with a moan.

Stu continued the mission assignment. "Once, we ditch the bikes..."

I cringed with a sour frown, "More dollars."

Tom tossed an arm with a giggle. "Daddy's paying, remember, Mangrove?"

"For our last business contract until we fold." I bowed a chin in silence.

Stu cleared a tight throat, pointing to the wall with the images and the information. "Nuristan is one of the poorest and most remote welayats within Afghanistan. There are no police officers, a governor, or a Dee Dee's Hamburgers, only rows of small rural villages."

"Where the kids are located, right?" Tom nodded.

"Our source sent a digital pic," Stu nodded.

Tom turned and smiled at Austin. "Get our source to get the kids out. So we don t have to go," nodding.

"Too late, he's dead along with our other sources." Stu said.

"Guerrilla fighting from the Taliban insurgency," I said.

"No, inter-ethnic violence," Stu said.

"Domestic violence!?" I frowned.

"...between the native inhabitants over disputes of land and food and water," Stu said.

"Problem solved! Bring them food and water and chocolate." Austin smiled.

"Chocolate!?" Stu turned and frowned at Austin.

"Everyone loves chocolate." Austin chuckled along with his brothers.

"You get to carry the Swiss bars, bro." Stu laughed.

"No prob!" Austin turned and winked at Frank.

Thursday November 24th

Thanksgiving Day in the USA

Jiaohe Ruins, Tulufan Diqu, China (7,790 miles east of USA)

10:00 Zulu time

Mountain peak setting

Freezing temperatures of snow and ice with no sunshine

The three copters landed inside the Jiaohe Ruins, rocking and rolling with the fierce windy arctic winds, sitting down on a cliff that filled with frozen water, white sand, and white snow. The cold machine equipment and the colder bodies wore a set of parkas over a warm and waterproof snugly fit set of long black underwear, a wool black turtleneck shirt, a long sleeved lamb green, brown, and tan sweater, and a pair of close fitting matching green, brown, and tan ski pants paired with a set of heavy wool black socks inside a pair of hard plastic cushioned padded ankle knee boots made of black cow leather. The outfit is both lightweight and flexible for running, jogging, or walking into danger.

A skull cap covered my hair roots and my forehead, a pair of wool gloves over my hands, and a pair of black reflective sunglasses over my two eyeballs, preventing snow blindness. The best trained QA guards jumped out from the helicopter ramp, landing on boot toes into ice and then blast the snow heated machine blowers, breaking up the slushy beige sand on the whitish-tan covered soil for a steep machine drive down the angled slope to the Wakhan Pass.

The Quartet was ready to complete the rescue mission. Four occupied snow machines slowly crossed over a tree barren but wet covered whitish-tan snowy Wakham Corridor. The Corridor displayed a magnificent eyeball view of a placid ice covered river and the breathtaking Hindus Rush mountain snowy peaks as the Quartet slipped and slid side to side over the packed snow on top of an American manufactured snow mobile.

The machine ran on a pair of platform twin twenty-two inches by one hundred sixty inches long snow skis for easy of steering and balance, maneuvering with a four-stroke engine with a set of four cylinders. Each machine pulled a heavy cargo sled that contained a tiny armory of shotguns and rifles for killing the kidnappers of the boy princes. The snow machine carried four passengers and no clothing baggage, running at a top speed of forty-five miles-per-hour, but today, Stu ordered a steady speed of twenty miles-per-hour down the steep mountain slope.

The best feature of the American manufactured snow mobile was the dual track foot prints that allowed the machine to "float" on top of deep snow and not sink down in or get stuck inside the snow.

Stu led as the Quartet leader who was followed by Frank, Tom, and Austin, ensuring all brothers arrived alive and frozen from a fourteen-mile bumpy joy ride. After completing the dangerous mounting pass, the snow machines were halted and hidden inside a dilapidated shed which was called a mountain house that was made of black wood, the Quartet dangerously hiked on boot heels down a beige sandy wet flat road.

Four white rabbit fur coats slowly hiked between a landmass of two snowy mountain tops and over the frozen water lakes, looking like a snow lodge in Colorado, USA for a fun time of snow skiing. The winter environment displayed a band of heavy white snow powder, a foot path trail with no animal prints, only an open snowy field toward the mountain foot hills, without a warm and toasty ski lodge, shuffling ski lifts, crowded vendor food stands, hot coffee vendors, rental equipment stands or yelling ski instructors who would assist for pleasure fun.

However, this place was not Colorado or North America.

The real estate snowy land and the pretty mountain range Himalayas belonged to the Chinese government, where a set of four snow machines drove right down the property line and landed inside the foot toes Afghanistan.

The Quartet felt cold, raw, and wind even inside the warm furry bunny rabbit animal coats. Each pair of sunglasses noted immediately the country side civilization, consisting of two humans, three animals, two cars, and an array of hidden hand guns.

Furry and funny, a smiling Jace greeted the four tired and grouchy Quartet at the end of a white gravel road near a single gross stinky food stand in the cold air, but there was hope of a sunny day of thirty-four degrees Fahrenheit. Uncle Soy had pulled a mega favor with a not-to-be-named US admiral plus a money bank account of slush funds for US Federal Government usage to sneak Jace and Zak onto the Quartet mission from the other geographical direction.

Jace stood next to male of six feet and five inches, wearing a white rabbit furry coat too and a pair of black tinted sunglasses. The male was named Zack, the toughest, loyalist, and most devoted QA guard, after Stu saved his ass from certain death which would never be tattled into an eardrum per Gage.

In return for living, Zack had pledged loyal and blood to both Quartet Associates and the Quartet. The six males huddled into a circle, bullshitting their introductions and then abandon the two other expensively purchased snow machines paid by Franklin Mangrove, Junior along the snowy gravel road.

They split into two white terrain vehicles with Stu at the wheel of one transport. Zak drove the other vehicle, slowly traveling along a gravel road toward the targeted hut, where the boys were being held.

A hidden road bomb exploded a mile up the gravel roadway, shaking the armed plated glass windows.

The roadside bombs were a favorite militant offensive weapon of the Taliban terrorist as Stu slid all four tires to a halt inside the gravel road. The Quartet, Jace, and Zak moved and leaped from the open doors, standing and scanned an assortment of blown up vehicles, glowing red and yellow fires, hurt animals, and non-moving human bodies.

Stu rushed and shot three of dying animals in the skull out of pity as the other animals tried to escape with fright from the single bomb explosion, dragging the bodies of both dead and alive natives through the wintertime weather.

Zak, Jace, Tom, Austin, and I moved and assisted with the injured natives, coming out from the damaged food carts, providing a set of blankets and a tube of bottles of fresh water from the supply carts inside the two vehicles.

And then Austin turned and saw the enemy.

A group of Taliban insurgents inside a fleet of three rusty vehicles broke through a lousy single wooden gate check point and killed all the posted guards, driving with the intent to escape through the Wakhan Corridor. The older moving pickup trucks were filled to brim with an array of nasty guns, nastier men, and extreme nasty danger.

The sounded buzzed the winter air.

In the clear blue sky, a set of four military helicopters landed in the gravel and released a set of US-led fighting troops.

Austin could see the US American flag on each uniform.

From the southwest direction, many military boot toes quickly advanced into a vicious fire fight with both military and innocent lives. The Quartet launched a surprise assault on a single drafty wooden shed which was located diagonal from the blown up check point which crossed a snowy unplowed crop field and then slightly inside a dry bed of green forest woodland as an array of loud gun fires sounded and each war soldier groaned from pain.

Austin turned and ordered Jace to patch up every wounded US and NATO solider in the fight. Zak grabbed and toted three boy princes from the hut, leaving and driving them back to the parents while the Quartet stayed and aided in the ground fighting.

I could see and feel the same mental and emotional state of mind, staring directly into the cornflower blue eyes on Tom.

The Quartet had debated back and forth the hot and cold topic of running an international security company, consisting of clients, guns, guards, danger, violence, lawful, and illegal components of an insane job.

Tom was newly engaged to the love of life Janey last month while seriously desiring to share his heart and his life with her for eternity, since Frank felt the same way about his girl Misty Marie.

I turned and fired at the next live and breathing black towel wrapped skull, killing the person dead with a rifle, saving my life and the precious lives beside me.

Jace was awesome, firing a hand gun with a left shooting hand and then bandaging a head wound with both his hands, and then stitching up a sliced red bloody cut on a leg, then a bloody arm, then wrapping a bandage around a head injury with his talented doctoring skulls. Next, Jace came full circle and fired a new shot from an issued hand gun with a left shooting hand at the next black towel wrapped skull, killing the person dead too.

My brothers and I rallied around the good guys, the military soldiers, defending the United States of America, the United Nations, and the three princes from China, since the kids had been retrieved safely and were traveling back home to the resident of the parents with Zak, after the yahoo kidnappers had been blown into baby animal vulture's body parts for consuming supper, tonight.

Stu electrified the air waves, shouting and shooting within a spiritual soul while injured and bloody within a physical body. Jace stitches a left arm in three different places with a sterile needle and a silk thread while Gage ran, shot and killed all the idiots on his right and then on his left within his vision on both sides of the green woodlands. Two different times, Stu violently shoved a left arm into Jace's face out of line of deadly fire and then fatherly ordered Jace to retreat back to the terrain transport for safety, but Jace refused and returned to his new duty of doctor work.

Tom, the lousy marksmen in the Quartet rapidly spread a random pattern of new bullets at a moving black towel wrapped figure that dashed on a pair of two worn military boot heels in the far, far distance as Sawyer wasted tons of precious expensive ammo. But Tom was keeping his line of sight clear and clean of Taliban invaders.

Jace continued to bandage and treat the solider and civilian wounded while calling in on the radio for any military transport helicopters to pick up the medically needed. Then he finished the battle fight by riding inside a helicopter with two seriously injured soldiers, ensuring proper medical treatment back at the USA military base. Next, Jace would return back home to Coral Gables, Florida, USA inside a military transport from the not-to-be-named US General who had been paid with the Quartet funding.

At the end of a long and intense battle fight, after the dusk and dust settled, the Afghan soldiers were all dead or dying, another triumphant night for the US soldiers and the Quartet, the unknown American heroes.

The US commander and Austin had quietly decided to kiss and not tell about a secret joint military successful mission, since all televised US and Afghan clashes ignited both eagerness and curiosity among the US citizens at home along with a few unknown television reporters who were hungry and thirsty for fame and dollars.

One of the carefully hidden and nosy television reporters had secretly videotaped a live track of the man-to-man and hand-to-hand combat Taliban fighting sequence by using a couple of pairs of military issued night vision goggles. Then the unknown television reporter had interviewed a few wounded soldiers, without permission, of course, while gathering and collecting the unknown names of a new secret elite fighting group, the Quartet.

Zillions of black and white newspapers and millions of television stations proudly displayed and repeated the US and NATO troopers, battling for the victory along with face pictures of Austin, Stu, Tom, and Frank. The television monitors inside each residential home and every business break room buzzed the internet, television, telephones, and fax machines for the ninety-six hours straight with the battle victory for the US plus a secret elite team of fighting American heroes, the Quartet.

Monday, November 28th

Country of USA, cites of Washington DC and Miami

The President of the United States called and invited the Quartet into the White House for a steak dinner and a cosmic heroic publicity stunt as he was up for re-election this year, where Austin gladly accepted as the boss of the Quartet.

Then the Band of Brothers returned back home to metro city Miami banged, bandaged, and boasting of their success, since the Quartet was famous, frequented, and forwarded millions upon millions of verbal, written, and electronic requests, protecting their kin and their kind, coming from the prime ministers to the princes throughout planet Earth.

The flagging and failing Quartet Associates soon thrived at the beginning of the fiscal second year, where the business operations allowed the brothers to pay off the outstanding debts of ten million dollars and repaid their biological fathers for the loan.

I happily reported to my brothers that Quartet Associates had cleared four billion dollars, a whole number with nine zeros in money profit for the four boys from South Florida, USA.

The Quartet had achieved the first part of their dream, billionaires. Some of the brothers had reached a second portion of their goal, mates. The new Quartet sisters would be introduced into the Quartet family with a grand wedding for the entire world to eyewitness in the springtime.

Austin purposefully concentrated his solo effort on the new company and the new whore.

Present day and place

City of Florida City

Dungeon setting of Frank

1:55 p.m.

I snorted then sneezed out a stream of green mucus snot from both the nostrils, wiping it off with a naked and dirty hand. I shared the snot-filled hand with the side of the ratty chair, flipping through the nice glossy pages, reading the medical topic, tele-medicine.

Page number 981 in chapter number 75 on the topic: Tele-medicine

1:56 p.m.

I yawned, reading the medical textbook.

The latest craze within the healthcare field was e-health or electronic healthcare or tele-medicine that provided a set of direct medical care, using a television screen while a trained physician reviewed a bloody wound on an injured. A physician could remotely evaluate and then treat a medical patient within an emergency situation with minor wound management of tele-diabetes or home dialysis or tele-cardiology or asthma, since the remote site treatment would greatly benefit ill patient, without having to come and visit the hospital.

Jace was an advocate of medical tele-care as one of the busiest tele-medicine practitioner in Miami, working directly from the office desk within his private office, treating patients at home or at another far away rural hospital inside Florida.

"I leap then look," I sneezed and sniffed up a stream of puke green mucus snot that had gathered around my two achy and red inflamed nostrils, studying the page with a pair of blurry eyeballs. The tele-medicine sentences provided no clue or conclusion or connection to save my chilled body or my chilly house guests inside the damp and cold cavern.

I had been captured and was being held against my will power underneath the golden sands along the shore line and I was not the great world renowned researcher Jace.

Wait one moment, there was a true connection to tele-medicine here inside the dungeon of Frank.

I closed the eyelids and sneezed with a gurgle, mentally tele-talking to my friend Jace. Come here and figure out...correction...concoct some type of deadly painful drug and then kill the bastardettes!

"Female version of bastards," I grinned and opened my eyelids, pretending to be smart ass Tom, using one of his made up American vocabulary words. I gurgled instead of giggled then snorted, coughed, sneezed, and finally tossed a tiny stream of puke green snotlets which were snotty wet boogers over the tiny blanket, wiping my nose clean with a set of dirty fingers. I cleared a wet and tight throat.

I repeated the overheard statement from one of the many social gala events, "The genius of men, the unique and extraordinary ability of the human mind in one word, Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third."

Childishly rebellious, viciously sarcastic, voguely fashionable, almost felonious, tragically hip, and downright nasty and mean and rude, there were some of the most popular vile vocabulary words to describe the baby brother of the Quartet, Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third.

"A refreshing thing indeed," I repeated another overheard statement from another smart ass unnamed male, who vocally quoted it to Austin about Thomas.

Tom enjoyed way too much, showing off his persons, his places, and his things on an hourly basis what he wanted to be, what he wanted to do, and what he wanted to take as an unabashed and unashamed American of the USA. I chuckled with amusement then coughed up a set of slimy throat phlegm.

I exhaled with a huff of exhaustion, dropping down a chin into my chest, viewing the glossy pages. I flipped the glossy pages backward to the medical section, general Surgery. I did not recall within my short-term memory, reading that selected topic. I yawned like Thomas without covering a hand over a set of parted lips, instead of presenting usual my South Florida prime gentleman image. I rubbed my tired eyeballs.

I felt tired, sleepy, and hunger then sneezed and then coughed. I inhaled then exhaled, feeling a dizzy with pain. My tummy growled from hungry and lack of hot food items. My brain cells were both dumb and numb from the overuse and the overtime of studying all the medical manuals. I could not concentrate with a set of mushy mental mind cells on some kind of mysterious medical miracle.

I exhaled with a huff of exhaustion. "Another messy medical mysterious moment..."

Tom would tease Frank with those medical words.

I whispered. "Say that three times really fast, Frank," then I snorted, coughed, and finally sniffed up a stream of puke green mucus snot from my two nose holes, cleaning off part of my face.

I wished for my Ghost, my mobile telephone, and my brothers.

Austin was mad. Tom was worried.

Stu was dangerous. Big Man took his protection job a little too serious sometimes, since he would beat Frank black and blue on the forearm, after Frank's liberation, correction Frank's freedom.

I allowed my overworked neurons to flutter and float into outer space for a mental break when I immediately focused on the talented artists of the Renaissance.

The Renaissance artists had discovered a set of new technique paint styles with bright lights, dark shadows, and the human anatomy. One of the Renaissance artists Pieter Brueghel inspired his personal art by depicting common themes of a person's everyday life.

I whispered, "Life," closing my eyelids into resting.

In the field of medical science, artist Leonardo da Vinci studied and crafted his personal drawings with details of the human anatomy along with his personal methods of human dissection, observation, and mechanistic view of both a man and a woman.

I whispered, "Woman," leaning back into the head rest of the ratty chair.

The Renaissance science was not a simple discovery but a process for discovery, since the scientific method was learned, developed, taught, and shared from an experienced artist to another experienced artist and then finally taught to an inexperienced young artist.

I sat upright from the head rest, blinking my eyelids open. I coughed then sneezed, firing a stream of mucus from my nose snot and my mouth spit. I rolled the mouth spit salvia into a semi-round geometric ball, turning and tossed it over the side of the chair and onto the floor. I exhaled with a huff of exhaustion, looking at the side wall of stone. "Congratulations, doctor, you have a case of acute viral rhinopharyngitis." I snorted then choked on more newly created nasal mucus. I coughed, clearing out the throat mucus, closing my eyelids and leaned back into the head rest and parked the tiny warm blanket, partially covering my delicate body part down to the tops of my kneecaps.

I had medical acquired a simple but impossible resistant batch of common cold germs, easily shared.

I whispered, "Share," I relaxed my tense muscles before returning to solve the new medical mystery and my life.

The Renaissance movement had influenced and affected architecture, dance, literature, music, painting, philosophy, science, religion, technology, and war.

I whispered, "War," I relaxed both my arms before working on the medical miracle to save the three sisters.

The Renaissance began in times of religious turmoil when a chorus of strong verbal accusations cut the tongues with corruption, simony, nepotism, and illegitimate baby births which led to the breakup within the Roman Catholic Church. Since the average man was monitored by the rule and the power of the Roman Catholic Pope.

I whispered, "Power," I prayed to Almighty God, Brother Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, and all my heavenly angels for peace, happiness, health, and security to all Earth's natives. I included within my silence prayer all the plants, the animals, the babies, the children, the teenagers, the adults, the elderly, and maybe some aliens, if they happened to beam down during the 1950s era from the numerous UFO sightings. I whispered. "So, I guess you know, great heavenly beings above me, my delicate situation here inside a damp and cold cave." Then I carefully listened for a proverbial toot or a magical response within the quiet air, or maybe on a wall of my cave. I received nothing with the air waves but the soft snorting of the three sisters.

I whispered with my eyeballs closed. "So, that means that I should practice self-awareness. Aware of self!? Aware of escape!? Yeah, escape!?" I blinked open my eyelids, admiring the tiny blanket that covered my boxers with a grin and a gurgle. "I am not presentable to man or to beast, much least an escape plot," I gurgled with a cough, clearing the nasal mucus from an aching sore throat.

I reached and grabbed, flinging the tiny blanket from my boxers and down to the floor, slowly standing, exchanging my ass for the book with the real medical solution. I painfully breathed from a set of inflamed nose holes along with a pair of tight lung tissues, marching toward the small table. I stopped and stood, reaching and lifted, drinking the water pitcher and gagged on my mouth spit, jerking the pitcher from a face. I sneezed out a stream of puke green snotlets over the table, the pitcher, and a few medical textbooks, missing my naked body. I cleared a sore raw throat of the nasal phlegm, partially down a narrow channel of throat muscles and grabbed the provided medical stereoscope, compliment of Babe.

I lifted and slammed the stethoscope into my naked chest, checking the heart rate.

I whispered with a sour frown, "Not good, doctor." I quickly diagnosed with my awesome doctoring skull, a first rate contagious common cold.

The common cold produced a batch of annoyingly puke green snot and an irritating series of wet coughs from a raw sore throat along with a pair of two watering eye sockets.

I roughly coughed three times in a row then sneezed twice for fun and produced a stream of more puke green snotlets as each single or double sized wet snotlets hit and stuck to the table surface and some of the cloths of the books. I whispered with a sour frown, "Confirmed, Frank." I leaned over and replaced the stethoscope back over a clean part of the table in case of later use.

I reached and grabbed a new snot-free medical text book, turning and moved an ass back into the ratty chair, lifting and gently dropping the first medical book over the floor, since I did not want to awaken the three sisters. I turned and sat inside the ratty chair, resting the dirty tiny blanket over my thighs and my private body parts, flipping the pages to the medical section, biology.

Page number 11 in chapter three on the topic: Biology

2:22 p.m.

I studied the hot medical topic transformations as my dull neurons comprehended nothing. I closed my eyelids, holding the open book between the fingers and the lap, leaning back a dizzy skull into the head rest.

The word Renaissance came from the Italian Renaissance movement. The Italian Renaissance movement triggered social, cultural, financial, economic, and family transformations within the other civilized foreign counties of Europe in the fourteenth century. The English Renaissance of the Elizabethan era produced fine cultural literature works from such authors as William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlow, and John Milton.

The Spanish Renaissance recognized the gifted artists of Miguel de Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and El Greco. And the Northern Renaissance art and literature pieces inside the country of French were greatly influenced by the Flemish brothers.

I whispered, "Brothers."

I felt tired, sleepy, cold, and hunger. My mind was numbness. My eyelids were permanently shut. My head was pounding with great pain. And my heart worried with concern. Both my biceps tired from holding the heavy-ass medical book in my arms.

And then I dropped the book, falling into a deep slumber of rest and recuperation.

3:01 p.m.

City of Coral Gables (31 miles north of Florida City)

Quartet Associates headquarter building

16th floor accounting department

Private office setting of nameless accountant

The nameless accountant looked down with a worried brow, reading the financial report again, looking up with see the computer and tapped on the keyboard with a sour frown and a whisper. "It is true. This is so wrong." She reached over and lifted up the landline receiver into a face, pressing the button. The telephone connected. "Hello! I am looking for Frank..."

She paused and listened to the female on the other end of the telephone connection.

"Thank you so much. Bye!"

She dropped the receiver back down onto the hook with a sigh and stood upright from the desk chair, back stepping from the office desk and spun around to face the door, moving ahead to see the second person in charge of the accounting department Collins. She stopped and stood inside the open archway with a worried brow. "I am so sorry to disturb you, Collins. I was looking for Frank, but he is away from his office for the day. I believe this matter to be very important for us."

Collins looked up with a smile to see his employee. "All matters are important for us. What is your interest?" He motioned with a hand and a smile towards the empty chair inside the private office.

The nameless accountant entered the room without a smile and sat down inside the chair in front of the office desk with a worried brow, reaching out and slid the papers over the desk surface. "Collins, I have triple checked all this important. And I have received additional information that helped to verify the triple information." She exhaled. "I have found something very strange and very scary for us."

Collins looked down with a smile and then a gasp of shock at the papers, reaching out and slowly flipping through each one with a worried brow. "Good gawd! This is so wrong." He reached over and lifted the landline receiver into a face, pressing the button and heard the voice immediately. "Tom, I am so sorry to disturb you this late afternoon. This is Collins. Frank is..."

He paused and listened to the voice on Tom on the other end of the telephone connection.

"Correct! The accounting department has found something very, very disturbing. Could you please down here?"

Pause.

"Excellent! Thanks, Tom. See you in a bit." Collins replaced the landline receiver and looked up to see his employee with a nod and a worried brow. "Tom is on his way down to the accounting department to see us. Wow! This is very strange and very scary for us."

3:20 p.m.

33rd floor business office setting

Chief Executive Officer Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The throne room door opened.

Tom entered first with a stern face, stopping and stood upright in front of the throne desk, sliding a stack of papers over the empty desk surface, landing the pile underneath the nose holes of Austin. Stu followed behind the leathers on Tom, stopping and stood next to Tom with a sour frown. Tom pointed down with a sneer at the stack of loose papers. "That QA client is a terrorist of the USA."

Austin looked down at the papers with a gasp and slowly flipped through each page with a stern face. "A terrorist! We have found and identified a terrorist that is being protected by the Quartet."

Stu nodded with a growl. "He's dead."

Austin frowned. "We, the Quartet are obligated to take care of any and all terrorists."

"I pulled out the client's legal contract and all the fee invoices from the accounting department. The client has paid in full for the rest of the year." Tom tapped on the legal documents of contract and the financial statements with a sneer.

Stu huffed with a growl, crossing both arms, shaking a bald skull. "I don't give a shit. Do you give a shit, Austin?"

Austin looked up with a stern face to see Tom and Stu, pointing down at the papers, giving the new order as the CEO of Quartet Associates. "First, we will refund all the US monies back to the bastard including all the associated bank interest payments that we had collected on his asshole, since the first day, we finished signing the wet ink on the white paper. And then, we send and refund all the monies right back into his electronic bank account, noting that we have terminated the legal agreement, today, immediately. Please inform the accounting department to do that immediately, before the close of business today. And I don't care, if we overpay our monies back to the bastard either. Get him off our books right now!"

Stu reached over into the jacket pocket and pulled out the mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard a text to Collins, who was patiently waiting for the order from Austin, since all employees knew that Austin was the chief executive officer of the company that give out all the orders of the final company matters.

Austin said with a stern face to Tom and Stu. "Second, call our resource at the Pentagon..."

Stu finished the text and looked up with a confused row to see Berrington. "We handle our own problems the Quartet way, Austin."

Austin nodded with a smirk to Tom and Gage. "The USA Federal Government has provided us with hard copy evidence of a terrorist among our QA clients. Therefore, Quartet is nicely going invite and let the USA Federal Government watch and see how to handle a fucking ass terrorist that threatens the great USA, the Quartet way. The USA Federal Government will be our eyewitness while we take turns, ripping off a body part from the bastard."

Tom laughed. "Bitch! It's a female again."

They all laughed with a nod.

Stu looked down with a chuckle and a smile, typing on the tiny keyboard a text to the USA Federal Government resource, too, "Collins was waiting for your command. It is all done now, Austin! The bitch has gotten her monies back and is richer than ever before, compliments of the Quartet. When do you leave for our new QA assignment, boss?"

"Where is Frank?" Austin darted the eyelids and stared at the closed door with a stern face between the elbows of Stu and Tom.

Tom shook both his bangs and his hands with a worried brow. "He went home to shit out a mess of purple turds while puking up green vomit from his esophagus. He is sick with a shitty ass cold. Don't invite him this time into the Lab! He will make us all sickly and shitty."

Austin nodded with a stern face. "We will call Frank anyways. He can wear all the medical surgery gear that protects his germs from us and sit down inside a chair on the sidelines of the wall this time and toss us the medical bag of the sterile scalpels."

Tom frowned. "Frank doesn't use a set of sterile scalpels for a disserting of an asshole inside the Lab."

"Yeah," Austin stood upright from the chair with a nod and a laugh with Stu. "Roll out! Let's go and get Frank and have some nasty fun inside the Lab, before our delicious supper." He back stepped from the office desk and side stepped, moving ahead toward the closed door first.

Stu spun around to face the door and followed behind the back spine on Austin, lifting both arms in the air with a laugh and a smile. "Yay, USA!"

Tom leaned over and gathered the loose papers off the office desk, spun around to face the door with a sigh of a long night, before suppertime.

Present day and place

City of Florida City

Dungeon setting of Frank

4:04 p.m.

I blinked open both eyelids as my raw nostrils smelled a strong antiseptic odor coming from the childish chemistry set. The room temperature was colder than before. I cut both eyeballs to the side wall clock. The time was late-afternoon. I had been catnapping for one hour while still trapped here inside a damp and cold cavern. I wished for my warm bed mattress and my warm Misty while missing her sweet face and her bright smile. I missed Tom, Austin, and Stu, too.

I coughed four times in a row and then sneezed a gallon of puke green snot, falling over the pages of the book, both forearms, both hands, and only of the eight finger pads, missing my thumb knuckles. I felt really lousy with sickness, touching a hand of dirty finger pads onto a heated forehead.

"A fever," I moaned with fear, "I'm getting sicker."

Stu argued that the word sicker was not a proper English vocabulary word. However, Tom totally and verbally disagreed. Then the two peeing pups debated the medical concept during a vicious verbal catfight until Austin halted the silly vocal exercise with a sharp baritone voice.

I coughed three times then sniffed up and clogged both my nose holes with a river of wet sticky green snotlets, medically and brilliantly concluding my common cold infection had spread.

I whispered, "Spread."

I looked down and flipped through the second medical textbook, finding the new medical topic, respiratory system. Bored and clueless about the three monsters, I felt intrigued with my latest developmental symptom of an acquired virus, reading the medical information refreshing my dull brain cells.

An upper respiratory tract infection or URIT or URI was caused by an acute infection, involving the nose, the sinuses, the pharynx, or the larynx. It included the words, the common cold.

The common cold symptoms presented with one or more presentations, including a sore throat, a runny nose, nasal congestion, coughing, sneezing, pink eye, muscle aches, fatigue, malaise, headaches, muscle weakness, shivering, loss of appetite, extreme exhaustion, or in a rare instant regarding children, visual red swollen bumpy hives.

I might be developing an URI, requiring the service of a paid physician. I snorted up the lingering mucus snot which was slowly draining down from both the nostrils for funny annoyance, trying to perform a stimulated ha-ha laugh, since I did not have any money to pay a doctor for a medical treatment.

Since I did not have any transportation vehicle to go to a physician's office for a medical treatment, because I did not have Babe's permission to leave the jail or pass go-go to the closest physician building for a medical treatment.

I gurgled with a cough of more nasal phlegm within a wet and tight throat which was followed by a flood of green snot as the snot shot down into the glossy pages of the book. I cleared a wet and raw tight throat, reading more of the medical information.

Sinusitis, tonsillitis, and ear infections were associated with an URI.

I shook my skull, noting that my equilibrium was still balanced, so I did not have an earache, yet. The fever was fighting with the invisible bad germs as my good guy white cells within a healthy biological body. I coughed then sneezed, allowing more green wet nasal mucus snot to fall inside the medical book and shoot beyond my kneecaps, landing on the stone. My eyeballs stared as my neurons studied the medical information.

URI symptoms commonly included nasal congestion, coughing, a runny nose, a sore throat, a fever, some facial pressure, lots of sneezing, and maybe the reddening of the two eyeballs, beginning one to three days after an exposure to a microbial pathogen.

"A virus, the duration of a virus is seven to ten days and then it all goes away." I whispered, "Goes away."

I wished to goes away to my house and I wished it all to goes away, too. Actually, I wished for a huge dose of microbial pathogen to feed it. Once it feeds, it will 'goes away' too. Then, Babe will be set free from it too. However, the tiger would not be set free ever.

I gurgled then sniffed up a new stream of draining green mucus snot inside my raw sore nasal cavity.

"One problem at a time, Frankie boy," I abused and amused with my pet nickname from my darling wife Misty. Tom called Frank that humorous nickname when he was losing their verbal argument just to piss Mangrove off. I cut my eyelids down to the medical book, studying the black colored words.

Antibiotics could decrease any unnecessary adverse effects.

I gurgled on the newly created nasal phlegm, looking up to see the long metal counter against the forward stone wall. There were presented in numerous neat short and tall rows inside the book shelf an array of bottle-filled store-brought pharmacy medications, compliments of Babe.

I plotted my poor predicament. No antibiotics. No physicians. No nurses. No food. No pills. No tablets. No injections.

So I was a big adverse effect with no effect, since my cold was 'effecting' with an 'e' my brain cells. I grinned at the mental wrong spelling of the English word.

I whispered, "I'm the adverse effect, the cause of my own dilemma," I turned and viewed the analog clock on the wall. The time read 4:04 p.m.

Austin, Tom, and Stu were diligently working the land, the sea, and the sky electronics, tracking down the body heat of Frank from a vile and vicious kidnapping.

I did not have any body heat, feeling cold, wet, and dampness inside the interior of the enclosed tiny cave. The thick limestone stone walls were blocking any heated light rays from the sun along with the heated air waves from the Florida sky.

I nervously wiggled inside the ratty chair with the foot stool upright from the inner coldness. I pulled my cold feet underneath my ass, tenderly wrapping the short blanket around an exposed naked chest, protecting my freezing body. I perched the book against my two protruding thighs and two folded kneecaps, reading in silence the medical information.

Fifteen percent of acute pharyngitis cases were caused by the bacteria commonly called Streptococcal pharyngitis or strep throat. A sore raw tight throat was the first sign of the strep throat infection which usually did not exhibit a runny nose or a wet cough or nose sneezing.

I wiggled and removed my feet, stretching out the legs, wiggling the numb toes, both the legs, both the thighs, both the arms, and both the hands. I shook my head, feeling the raw throat, seeing through a pair of watery eyeballs, feeling a dizzy head, and scraping the two stuffed up nose holes. I jerked the book and the blanket from a body.

I slowly stood, moving to the long steel counter and stopped, standing in place and reached, grabbing the plastic water pitcher to my face. I gulped down the rest of the warm water, smoothing an aching throat and a stuffy nose, feeling an immediate urge to pee.

I dropped the empty water pitcher down to the steel counter without a sound or a splash and turned to see the east side of the cave, marching on a pair of naked feet around the wall corner, surprisingly discovering a clean pine-smelling little room.

The bathroom held a wash sink with a set of exposed plumbing pipes underneath the porcelain sink and a tiny toilet with no closing door. The missing door did not bother me, only pissed me off more deeply. I marched on a pair of naked feet through the open archway, jerking my boxers down to the kneecaps and stood in the wall corner far away from the pine-forest nice smelly clean toilet bowl.

I pissed until my heart's happily contentment and my bladder was totally emptied of the half-a-gallon warm water and the gallon of freshly squeezed orange juice from the Quartet breakfast at seven am.

I back stepped from the wet yellowish pee, without getting my naked toe bones further wet and spun around, not bothering to wash a pair of pee stained dirty hands, hoping Babe would try to bite me. Then I could scratch her eyeballs out of the eye sockets with a pair of two contaminated germ infested hand-made weapons. I snorted then sneezed out a stream of puke green mucus snot on the floor during my march back to the chair.

Actually, a physician had been taught for years that the human urine was sterile, not containing any bacteria, hence the old axiom you could survive by drinking's one own piss to combat water loss in the body while vacationing in a blizzard snow storm or the humid desert.

Personally, I would never touch my piss or any other asshole's pee with a pair of naked hands toward the space of my precious lips. But I had read that human pee was good for growing agricultural vegetables, fruits, and flora when added as compost to the crops which made perfect sense to my neurons. All of Almighty God's little and big creatures peed and shitted over all the flowers and the crop fields all the time, making the plants grow sky-high towards lovely heaven, His home.

I marched and stood parallel to the ratty chair, staring at the medicine cabinet. There were numerous medication items, collection compliments of Babe.

A physician would prescribe a range of antibiotics and offer an alternative treatment of zinc, vitamin C, and Echinacea shots or mouth pills to relax the continued onset of a common cold. The US Federal Government agency of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases suggested getting plenty of rest, drinking fluids to maintain hydration, gargling with warm salt water, using cough drops, throat sprays, and store-purchased pain and cold medicines to ease the common cold, since there was not a known medical cure for the common cold.

I studied the medicine cabinet of antibiotics, vitamins, pills, and store-purchased medications. A zinc vitamin shot would make me feel better, very quickly. I leaned over the steel counter and halted in mid-air. "Let her get sick, too," I gurgled with a cough of angry and fury, mouth spitting and flinging a set of wet green snotlets from a dry mouth and a pair of clogged nose holes over the counter and the books.

I slowly swung around with a dizzy headache, moving back to the ratty chair, lifting up the book and sat inside the torn fabric and pulled the medical textbook over and into a lap, wearing the blanket over a tight chest and read the medical information in silence.

Transmitted from a direct contact with a single mouth saliva droplet or a single nasal secretion, an infected person will catch the common cold which was generated by either a set of coughing germs or sneezing germs out from the contagious virus.

I whispered, "Virus."

The major entry point for a virus was normally the nose but could be either eye socket too. The germ was transported into the rear of the nose and the adenoid area, attacking and attaching to the receptor inside the tissue lining of the naso-pharynx. The contagious germ was absorbed into a single healthy red cell, where it grew into a fugly ugly invisible nasty infection.

I whispered, "Infection."

Macrophages triggered a production of cytokines, causing a systemic effect, such as, a sore throat and a nasal irritation. The common cold was self-limiting. The immune system produced a batch of fighting antibodies which attacked and prevented the common cold from infecting any more healthy red and white cells...

"Unless you are auto immune," I gasped with a cough and parted my lips for both breathing and brilliance. I rubbed my eyelids and slowly stood from the ratty chair, turning and moved to steel counter, scooping up the stethoscope and swung around to the white curtain, where the three sisters lived and breathed.

I slowly strolled and stopped in front of the white torn and stained thin curtain, holding a hand in mid-air, not breathing.

I slowly touched and drew back the curtain to the side.

The jelly molds breathed with life.

I leaned over and held the stethoscope over the first jelly mold that was near the edge of the bed mattress and my naked legs. I slowly dropped from the air the rounded tip of the stethoscope onto the chest cavity of the first jelly mold chest near the heart, sorta. The top quickly folded down into the creepy gross-like soft yellowish-white fatty tissue, enveloping the transmitter of stethoscope, providing a possible audible feedback into the medical instrument.

I did not desire to touch one of the jelly molds, feeling eerie, creepy, and gross.

I slowly lowered an earlobe into the one of earplugs of the stethoscope, holding a breath and listened to a faint poorly un-stable heart rhythm. Then I back stepped from shock and stared down at the three disgusting jelly molds with a smile. "That's the answer."

"What is the answer?"

I slowly swung around to the entrance door of the cave with a stern face.

Babe did not smile, staring directly at Frank, standing inside the door archway, wearing her pair of silent sandals.

I smiled, "Proteins."

Babe said without an emotion or a facial expression, "Proteins."

"The body builders of life, blood. Ya know?" I grinned with my medical buzz words. Babe might not understand the clinical terminology but was fascinated with my new medical discovery and maybe forgetting about her hunger pet tigers.

"Blood."

I grinned, "Proteins are part of the genes."

"Genes."

I grinned, "Genes alter the physical and chemical properties inside the human body while working together to achieve a particular function which is called healing."

"Healing."

I grinned. "The healing proteins are the essential important parts of an organism in producing their health cells."

"Cells."

"Once the cells are healthy, the...your sisters can digest food, breaking down the amino acids which are needed for a healthy metabolism. Thus, in the completed process, the healthy cells will sustain them for another hundred years." I gurgled with silly laughter of my dark sick humor as the tiny blanket slipped down over a naked navel. I quickly readjusted the blanket properly from her vision.

Babe curled her lips into a smile, sorta. "You are my rescuer," she quickly pirouetted and departed from the room in a pair of silent sandals.

The door closed and bolted from the outside with a thud.

"For me, not you, babe." I gurgled with a cough from the URI, instead of sneering.

Babe was a very young female and did not recognize within her innocent neurons that she had tagged, toyed, and taken an elite fourth member of the Quartet.

The Quartet was the new brat-pack within the business world as they were young, eager, ambitious, fortitude, gifted, smart, and loaded with tons and tons and tons and tons of George Washington's. They were the future the citizens, the states, the foreign countries, and the entire world's desire to be, to see, and to do.

"The everyday guy, who becomes the hero of the world," I repeated the quote that came from one of many business trade magazines that had tried and failed really hard to describe the attitude and altitude of the Quartet.

I gurgled and redneck mouth spat out a set of newly created nasal mucus onto the cold hard limestone floor, swinging around to see the first jelly mold of fat and protein. The three jelly molds were really a set of yellowish-white blobs that used to resemble three of Almighty God precious creatures, human beings.

I tickled my naked belly with a dirty fingernail, prompting an innocent reaction. Then I sneezed out a stream of big thick heap pile of puke green snot nasal mucus onto the fugly ugly face of the first sister near her nostril entrance which I based on my vision and the sister movement of breathing air. Her face was located near my kneecaps as my stream of green snot landed with a perfect aim below her two nose holes. My snot contained numerous germs from an infectious contagious common cold which had landed perfectly onto the nose hole of an ancient fragile auto-immune human being.

I gurgled, coughed then mouth spit more nasal mucus from a wet and tight throat, turning and spat on the floor beside a pair of naked toes. Then I breathed out with an open mouth for air, watching the first ancient female.

The first sister violently sniffed up and lovingly inhaled the puke green snot mucus of Frank into her two exposed nose holes.

I estimated that my germs would absorb into her bloodstream within ten seconds.

The first sister viciously coughed with a shudder, sending a cold shiver up the back spine on Frank.

I whispered with a smile, "Too quick and too easy."

The first sister immediately flicked with a pretty array of tiny bright red spots over her yellowish colored skin.

I whispered with a grin, "Hives."

The first sister immediately reacted to Frank's rhinovirus.

I leaned over the two other sisters and ticked my naked naval with a giggle again, sneezing out two streams of more puke green snot, hitting my mucus below each set of nose holes again for my evil fun and my deadly amusement.

Each sister absorbed the stream of green snotty phlegm from Frank and then immediately duplicated the tiny bright red bumpy hives over the yellowish-white skin like the first sister.

"My sisters!?" Babe yelled with panic, running from the open archway in a pair of silent sandals and stopped in front of the bed mattress, surveying the serious medical condition of her relatives.

"They're dying faster than I had anticipated," I chuckled with a cough and an evil grin.

"You...you are the rescuer," Babe jabbed a finger at her relatives as each relative violently displayed a seizure, wiggling both arms and legs a few inches up from a naked bed mattress as each one was composed of liquid jelly, instead hard bone and firm flesh.

My infection would rapidly spread, chocking off the white and red blood cells, blocking oxygen molecules into the brain, the lungs, and the heart. Then a few more seconds later, the three sisters will expire into happiness which might be the event that Babe had called transcendence, or maybe heaven.

Therefore, the ancestral duty of Babe had been extinguished.

I whispered with a wicked smile for my eardrums only, "Welcome!"

Now, Babe could leave the tiny cave for a normal life, somewhere within the big bad city of Miami.

I had done her a kind and generous favor, since I greatly desired to strangle the tiny bitch's olive-colored throat with a set of ten dirty green-snot dried hands. However, I was too sickly impaired with a rhinovirus, causing distress, weakness, fatigue, exhaustion, and insane madness.

I bet her Neanderthal woman-cave did not possess any household modern appliances, such like, a refrigerator for a cold beer or a single telephone for a vocal communication. However, I could steal the sedan, if I possessed the physical energy to locate the hidden car keys. My second immediately concern was the home bound exotic pets of snakes, wolves, tigers, lions, bears. O my!

Babe reached and whipped out the ancient hand pistol from a pocket, turning and aimed the gun at Frank, without an emotion or a facial expression.

I back stepped from her and the bed mattress, lifting and holding up both hands, dropping the stethoscope onto the floor with a loud thud. "Don't shoot!" I hollered, not trying to be funny, ya'll. These were the first words that popped into my devious mind, because I greatly desired to save my ass, seeing my wife Misty and my brothers three.

Her relatives squealed in distress.

Babe swung around a distorted face, screaming, still aiming the gun at Frank.

I turned and stared at the three wiggling sisters with an evil grin.

Babe sobbed with a set of rolling tears, still aiming the loaded gun at Frank. Then, all her relatives stilled in peace and silence.

"Death becomes them." I grinned proudly, contaminating the ancient blobs of fatty flesh, using my acquired common cold that nicely provided a simple solution for the deaths from my infected immune system.

Her gun was aimed at the heart organ of Frank.

My sweaty palms were raised even with a neck. My mind was blank.

Babe was going to kill Frank dead. His brothers would be too late and his love Misty would be very sad and lonely.

I was too weak, tired, and sleepy, lacking one single ounce of manly energy for a fist fight, trying to whip the gun from her hands. I swayed side to side, readying to die, closing my eyelids. I prayed to Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all my heavenly angels to safe keep Misty within the loving care of my non-biological brothers.

The gun exploded with a single bang.

I stood upright on a pair of naked feet with a set of sweaty palms in the air, still breathing the damp air of the cave and coughed with a whisper. "I live," I felt no pain, no hot blood, no flesh wound, or no bullet hole within my body. I blinked both eyelids open. Babe presented with a single bullet entrance hole into a right temple, committing suicide with the hand gun over her dead and departed sisters. Her dead body rested over the floor in front of Frank's naked toes.

I gurgled, coughed, and then mouth spat a stream of mucus snot onto the floor, staring with a stern face down at Babe and her relatives. "Get the fuck out!" I back stepped from the naked bed mattress, moving away from the puddle of her blood over the floor and swept up the short stairs, strolling through the open archway. I traveled down a long dark hallway, passing a set of closed doors along an empty hallway, entering a bright room.

I strolled ahead and turned to see the glass counter inside a tiny retail shop and halted, admiring a row of tiny bottles of brown and green natural herbs and colorful red, pink, and orange potions that lined the side wall. Then I turned with a stern face to see a glass entrance door, slamming a hand into the glass and exited into the bright sun. I shaded my sensitive retinas, adjusting to the bright sunny Florida day. I possessed no identification, money, car, or mobile telephone.

4:59 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

Home of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Mangrove, III

Coral Lane Three

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Bedroom setting of Frank and Misty Marie

Misty Marie stood in front of the mirror with a smile of happiness, staring at the peach colored skirt and the matching blouse with an assortment of coral rock designed jewelry, twirling around in a circle for fun and stopped in place. She stared with a smile and a giggle at the rich crimson colored pillowcase of Frank on top of their shared master bed mattress.

There was a circle of tiny pink colored baby booties, where she and her sisters had eaten lunch on Miracle Mile and shopped for the rest of the afternoon.

She and Frank desired a baby. Hopefully with luck, their future baby would be a little girl. But Misty Marie would accept a little boy too.

Janey had purchased a set of baby blue baby booties for her future baby son to give to Tom during the evening.

Gracie had chosen a set of white colored baby booties to present to her husband Stu which could be worn by either a little girl or a little boy.

Since, the brothers were planning the future wedding of Austin. Then, the Quartet family could plan a future set of babies, the next generation of children.

The loud knock sounded at the bedroom door.

"Coming," Misty Marie spun around with a smile and dashed to the archway. The door opened.

The tall elderly female said with a smile. "Gracie and Janey are here. But, the Quartet has yet to arrive for dinner. Gracie was told that they are being detained for some reason and would come later."

Misty Marie grinned with a nod. "Thank you for the message! Please tell all the staff the evening assignments are finished! And everyone can go back home for the evening."

The female nodded with a smile. "Yes ma'am. Good night, Misty." She back stepped and spun around to face the hallway, moving back down an empty corridor, swiftly strolling down the staircase to finish her work assignment and finally arriving back to her personal home.

Misty smiled, "Good night to you, too!" She giggled with a grin. "Awe! The Quartet brothers are going to surprise their Quartet at dinner tonight. Austin must be bringing his new girlfriend with them, who will become his new wife soonest. I am so happy and excited for my brother Austin." She left the bedroom and moved down toward the Florida room, where both Gracie and Janey were located to giggle and gossip about the upcoming Quartet wedding for Austin and his mystery girl.

Present day and place

City of Florida City (35 miles south of Coral Beach)

5:05 p.m.

Outdoors gravel road setting

Hot temperatures and bright sunlight

I moved ahead from the small house and journeyed on a pair of tiny girly silent sandals, stealing them out from underneath the cash register counter, marching down a gravel road.

I could see in the far distance a second retail store. I breathed steady, calming a set of raw nerve endings before seeing my beautiful, loving, devoted, and distraught wife Misty Marie along with my anxious, obnoxious, caring, concerned, and ever loving life-time brothers.

The heated sunlight will ease the tight congestion inside a head and a pair of stuffy nostrils while the hot breeze warmed a half-naked body.

And then the hungry tiger will eat nice tonight.
Saturday July 31st

City of Miami (nine miles northwest of Coral Beach)

7:07 p.m.

Miami-Dade Police headquarters homicide division

Conference room setting

Hot temperatures with clear sky and bright stars

Each police officer wore a short sleeved shirt of pastel colors, a pair of tan colored walking shorts, and a pair of boat shoes, swiftly dashing from a separate parked car inside the police headquarter parking lot, dangling a police badge from the neck.

They met at the rear entrance door of the police station.

Loree reached and grabbed the door handle, opening the door for his lady partner with a smile and a nod.

Hardy entered first, slowly moving down the hallway, waiting on her detective partner.

Loree pulled up beside Hardy with a stern face and a serious tone. "What is going on? Why have we been called back to station on our free weekend?"

Hardy moved ahead with a stern face and a serious tone. "I don't know any more information either. The police captain asked me to come to the station as soon as possible. There has been a break in the murder cases of the six dead girls that are posed with a leg arm in the air, hanging a specific object.

He nodded with a smile. "That's great news. We've working overtime on this murder case and have found nothing in common with the girls. I was wondering when we would find out some new information."

Conference room one setting

Hardy turned the wall corner, pointing down the hallway, strolling over the clean floor. "We are to meet inside conference room one with the police captain."

They moved ahead and turned to the door, strolling into the room in silence. The room was square shaped with dull beige colored walls that needed a fresh coat of paint. In the middle of the room, there was a square beaten up wooden table that needed polishing. On the long side, it was only beige paint with an array of digital photographs from the forensics team that had combed through each dead girl's apartment. The other walls held a white board with hand printed noted in various colors of blue, red, and green.

The police captain stood at the end of the table with a smile and a hand wave, wearing a pair of tan trousers and a white dress shirt without the necktie, pulling out the chair and sat. "Come in, Detectives Hardy and Loree. Please sit. Everyone, please sit down while I introduce and explain our purpose this late evening on a beautiful night in Miami. I would like to introduce our three young and bright junior detectives. They just have graduated the Academy and have been diligently working on the murder case of each dead girl. For swiftness, junior detectives, this is detective Hardy and Loree. They were called to investigate the first dead girl on June ninth and then have been following each one. Now, I don't want to waste the evening. So, I will come to the punch line. We have found the killer of all six girls."

Hardy sat inside the chair with a gasp. "Who is the killer?"

Loree pulled out the chair and sat beside Hardy with a smile and a nod. "How did you figure it out?"

The police captain turned and pointed to the first junior detective in a row along the side of the table, possessing dark hair and dark skin. "Go ahead, junior detective."

The dark haired and dark skinned female junior detective smiled with a nod, standing from the chair. "Well, I don't want to give the punch line away, yet. The Captain has asked each one of us to show you all our accumulated findings first. Then he would like for you to come to the same conclusion as us. This is the way we presented to the Captain also as he came to the same conclusion, too" She back stepped and slammed into the wall with a giggle and a grin. "First, we have combed through all the photographs, police reports, eye witness reports, and the forensics team reports. There is a lot of data but not a common factor that would identify the killer of the six dead girls." She lifted and slammed a hand into the wall. "This wall is only beige paint. So we have taped a digit picture of each dead girl on the wall and on her proper death day."

"My turn, my turn..." the blonde haired young male junior detective stood with a smile and a nod, lifting the paper notes with a pair of nervous hands for the first murder case of his young police career, reading out loud with a stern face and a serious tone. "Each girl was killed by the unknown killer. Then the girl was placed or propped inside the arm rest of a sitting chair or the side arm of a long sofa which was inside her personal residence. This is a fact. Then the left arm of each girl was lifted and rested against the arm rest, posing a cupped hand with an object. This is a fact. The object varied by size and texture. This is a fact. The forensics team could not find a single new unknown fingerprint on the furniture piece, the object, the dead girl, or inside each room of the house. This is a fact. The forensics team concluded that the killer used a pair of gloves or wore a pair of gloves the entire time during the visit, the murder, and the getaway. Thus, this is the reason for no new and unknown fingerprint or fingerprints."

Hardy exhaled and turned, frowning at the captain. "Captain, could you please tell us the killer? You do not have to repeat all of our findings."

The Captain turned and smiled to Hardy. "Wait! Be patient, Hardy! The junior detectives are doing a fine job here." He turned and nodded to the third junior detective with a smile.

"Me! I'm next." The second female girl junior detective possessed pale skin and light hair, standing with a nod and a smile, holding her paper notes, waving the other hand. "I want to emphasize that so far all the information has come from the laptop files that were gathered by the police officers at the crime scene and the input comments from Detectives Hardy and Loree. The uncommon factors were discovered that each girl was biological different in height, weight, hair color, skin tone, career job, resident location. This is a fact. One of the really wide common factors was that each girl died between six and nine o'clock in the evening, the night before someone discovered the dead body the next day. This is a fact. The forensics team identified and verified that death time." She sat down with a smile and a nod to each face.

The young male junior detective stood with a stern face and a serious tone, reading out loud his paper notes. "Now, the most common fact is that all the girls were single and had never been married. The other common factor was that the bedroom covers were all perfectly made like the dead girl had received an unexpected visitor. This is an assumption. However, the dead girl knew the killing to allow the person into her private residence. This is another assumption. The other common factor, the car of each girl was parked at her known residence like she had arrived home from work. This is a fact. The employment of each girl had been verified too. Each girl had worked that day shift and returned home to her private residence that late afternoon. This is a fact.

The first female junior detective with the dark skin and dark hair stood with a stern face and a serious tone. "The uncommon fact is that each girl varied in age from twenty-four to thirty years old. This is a fact. Another uncommon factor, not all the girls possessed post-graduation education, such like, college. The uncommon factor, not all the girls had an immediate family member here in Miami. Some of the girls were born in a different country from the USA. Thus, their family members still lived there. This is a fact."

The young male junior detective stood with the blonde hair and pale skin, reading his notes with a stern face and a serious tone. "There was not any forced entrance, such like, a broken window or busted down door. Thus, the killer knew the dead girl and her private residence. The killer also knew the location and thus he had visited there before. Thus, the girl knew the killer and was comfortable with the murderer by allowing the person into their private home for a chat or something. This is an assumed fact but is really assumption, where there was not a violent mark on the dead body or a set of broken items inside each private residence from a violent fight."

The second female junior detective with light skin and light hair said with a stern face and a serious tone. "Each girl did not display a physical mark or puncture on the body, such like, fist punch or head wound or a bullet hole. This is a fact. This fact has stumped the forensics team also. Each autopsy has revealed that the body died of a swift heart attack. Actually, it was faster than a heart attack. The heart stopped immediately which killed each girl instantly.

Loree nodded with a confused brow. "I give up. Who has done this awful thing?"

"Be patient, Loree!" The Captain nodded with a grin to the junior detective. "Go on with the hard evidence."

The second female junior detective with the light hair and light skin read her notes with a stern face and a serious tone. "Each girl held the selected object inside a cupped left hand on top of the sitting chair or the sofa. This is a fact. However, each girl was not left-handed. This is another fact. Thus, the killer must be left- handed. This is an assumption. We interviewed all the family members and we did find a couple of left-handed blood relatives. However, these particular blood relatives provided valid testimony for the time of the girl's death, so all the blood relatives have been eliminated from the murder list."

Hardy shook her curls with a sour frown. "That is a little premature. Don't you think so, junior detective?"

The second female junior detective with the light haired and light skinned girl nodded to Hardy. "Yes. It would be very premature, Detective Hardy. But, I have more to evidence to share. And I think that you will see why we quickly eliminated all the blood relatives for each dead girl."

The first female junior detective with the dark haired and dark skinned girl slapped the wall for attention with a stern face and a serious tone. "Now, we will examine all the pictures on the wall. You can see this too. Each girl inside the photograph was posed with a specific object in a left hand, such like, a ballerina shoe, an artist paint brush, a tennis ball, a one-hundred-dollar bill, and a flag. These particular objects represented their career job pathway. The last dead girl is a nurse. The nurse possesses a mirror, not her personal stethoscope. Each medical stethoscope is very personal and never offered to any nurse for use on a medical patient. Thus, the killer knew that, too. Since the killer knew the dead girl, her house location, and her career path. Therefore, the killer has left a sick message. The mirror is represented by vanity. The killer is vane to think that the police will not find him."

Hardy nodded. "That seems so odd here but perfectly correct. I agree that a mirror is a reflection of selfie. And a selfie is very vanity and arrogant."

The first female junior detective with the dark haired and dark skinned girl nodded. "Exactly, Detective Hardy, the killer is both vane and arrogant. We have interviewed the following items for each girl, the employer, the family members, the friends, the neighbors, the co-workers, and some of the boyfriends. It was listed inside the police files that there was one shared male lover between all six dead girls. Thus, we have technically profiled the killer. The killer likes to date a variety of single non-married girls who are post college age of twenty-four to thirty years old. The killer is not picky about hair color or skin tone or height or weight. The killer is not picky about the career of the single girl, since the killer enjoys a successful career as well as a fun lifestyle."

Loree raised an arm with a frown to the captain. "You can assume that the killer has a successful career of riches or wealth. He could be a wandering fool that has wandered back to each girl that he obviously knew. Then he is mentally sick and killed them for fun. I mean think about posing a death girl on the sofa with an object. The killer had to murder the girl and then touch the dead body to pose her in that upright position, where most murderers kill the live person and leave a dead body on the ground or over the furniture which gives me the creeps."

The Captain nodded with a grin to Loree. "Good point, Loree. There is some more information to share here, detectives. Please continue, junior detective."

The blonde haired young male junior detective nodded with a stern face, "Yes, sir! The killer has concocted a special poison blend which has yet to be determined by the forensics team on how it was administered to the dead girl. There were no knife or needle puncture marks on the dead body. There was no blooding or bruises of marks from a hand or a tool. There were no burn marks inside the esophagus either. Usually, when a poison acid is drunk by mouth or by nostrils, the esophagus is red, raw, and burnt, going down to the lining of the stomach which is a tale tell sign of murder. Yeah, that one is a fact and a mystery."

The first female junior detective with the dark skinned and dark haired nodded with a smile. "My turn is now. We had analyzed all the electronic information from the laptop without finding a clue to the killer but we have a profile of a killer. Then we turned to view the visual information that is on the wall. We have taped on the wall a very large calendar layout of the months of June and July, staring with the day of Sunday through Saturday which is like a regular desk calendar. I will point to each girl in order of the murder and the actual death day. However, I will not include the location of the residence or her career path or even the object inside her hand.

"The first dead girl died on June ninth, Wednesday night. The second dead girl died on June twenty second, Tuesday night. The third dead girl died on June twenty fourth, Thursday night. The fifth dead girl died on July fourth, Sunday night. The sixth girl died on July tenth, Saturday night. Now, if we analysis the month of June, there was not death on the first week. There was one death in the second week. There were no deaths in the third week of June. There were two deaths in the fourth week of June. The last week of June was shared with the month of July, which recorded no deaths, either."

Hardy frowned. "I don't see any pattern here of the dead girls or the killer. The calendar model tells me that the pattern is random. Who is the killer?"

The Captain smiled with a nod. "Be patient, Hardy! Let the junior detective continue."

Loree pointed at the wall calendar with a confused brow. "Wait, I do see something that is like a pattern, sorta. In the month of June, the killer has murdered only on Wednesday, Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday and Saturday. The killer skipped a murder date on the days of Monday and Friday for some reason."

The first female junior detective nodded with a smile. "Yes, we picked up on that also. The killer has purposefully selected the days, not the dates. Now, we will look at the month of July. I have continued the days of July beside the last day of June, so the grid is rows of numbers for my mathematical explanation. In the month of July, the first week of July, there are not any dead girls. The second week of July there are two dead girls. And the third week of July, there is one dead girl on July fourteen, which is a Wednesday."

Loree jabbed a finger at the calendar wall with a gasp. "Wait, there is a pattern emerging here. I see a visual pattern within the days of the week. In the month of July, the sixth girl died on Wednesday. The day of Wednesday is repeating the murder pattern again with the killer."

The first female junior detective nodded with a smile. "Yes, there is a pattern within the calendar days. When we draw a diagonal line from the second week of June on the first dead girl on Wednesday which is in the middle of the week, going down to the fourth week of June to second dead girl on Tuesday, you have a perfect diagonal line like in math. I am going to finish drawing all the diagonally lines for dead girls one through five for you to see the figure." She turned and drew each line quickly, back stepping with a nod at the art work.

Loree stood with a gasp in silence, staring at the art work on the wall.

Hardy stood with a gasp in silence too, staring at the art work on the wall also.

The first female junior detective stared with a smile and a nod at her art work on the wall. "You can see with me too. The first dead girl of Wednesday is located in the middle of week which is drawn down to connect to the second dead girl on Tuesday of the fourth week which is drawn down to connect to fourth dead girl on Sunday in July. That is a perfect diagonal line on the left side of the wall calendar. When you draw on the right side of the wall calendar an opposite line from the first dead girl of Wednesday which is located in the middle of the week which is drawn down to connect to third dead girl of Thursday of the fourth week and which is drawn down to connect to fifth dead girl of Saturday in month of July."

Hardy gasped. "You have a perfectly upside down capital letter 'V,' so the killer is taunting and teasing us with the first or last letter of his name. This killer is a real genius and a real psycho."

The first female junior detective with the dark haired and dark skinned swung around with a stern face and a serious tone. "Yes, we can to the same conclusion when we see the upside down capital letter 'V.' Thus, we immediately searched for any blood relative, co-worker, friend, foe, or neighbor with the capital letter 'V' in the first, middle, maiden or last name. Again, we did find a few names with the capital letter 'V' and we did find a set of very good alibis. Thus, we again eliminated all the blood kin, the co-workers, the neighbors, the friends, and the interviewed boyfriends."

Hardy sat down with a puff of frustration. "Then how did you find the killer?"

Loree sat down with a confused brow, shaking his skull with frustration.

The Captain smiled. "Please draw the rest of the picture for the seasoned detectives."

The girl swung around and moved to the wall calendar, reaching up and drew a horizontal line between the days of Tuesday and Thursday with a grin and a giggle and back stepped, slamming into the table. "You can see with me, now. When I draw a straight horizontal line between the second dead girl on Tuesday and then flow it down directly to the third dead girl on Thursday, the alphabetic capital letter of 'V' becomes an alphabetic capital letter of 'A,'" she spun around with a nod and a smile. "Yes, we checked for all relatives, friends, coworkers with the capital letter 'A' too. And we came up with nothing again for a killer."

Hardy dropped a chin into her palms with a moan. "O no, they will be calling the murderer, the A-serial killer, now, since the first five death days of the dead girls form the alphabetic letter of 'A.'"

Loree frowned. "Okay, this mind is intriguing but I have a headache. Who is the killer? Can you tell me now?"

The Captain jabbed a finger at the wall calendar with a stern face. "Finish the figure for the seasoned police detectives. You are not going to believe this."

The first female junior detective with the dark skinned and dark hair swung around and moved to the wall calendar, drawing a diagonal from July, the fourteenth down to July, the twenty-six. Then she drew a second diagonal line from July fourteenth down to July thirtieth.

Loree studied the art work with a confused brow. "I see the pattern of the alphabetic capital letter 'A' which is starting to emerge and form on the wall calendar. The killer is killing using the configuration of the capital letter 'A'. But, we didn't have a set of dead girls on July, the twenty-six or July, the thirtieth here in Miami or the surrounding cities."

The Captain turned and nodded to the junior detective with a stern face. "Show the seasoned detectives!" The blonde haired young male stood and leaned over the table, sliding a set of two new digital colored photographs to the Loree and hardy. The Captain jabbed a finger at the paper colored photographs with a stern face and a serious tone. "These two digital colorful photographs came into the office about thirty minutes ago. Of course, I called you immediately back to the police station on your day off. Of course, I give all the new evidence to the young and brilliant junior detectives. They pieced the puzzle together."

The blonde haired young male junior detective pointed down at the two objects with a stern face and a serious tone. "You can see inside each colored picture. The seventh dead girl died on Monday, July, the twenty-six inside her home residence. She is holding a teacup inside a left hand. We found the teacup strange too. The eighth dead girl died on Friday, last night, inside her private home residence too. She was holding a number two lead writing pencil in a left hand. Then all the pieces clicked into place. The mirror is vanity. The teacup is warmth. The pencil is smooth. The killer is a vain, warming, smooth talking monster, who is left-handed, and likes to kill after working hours and uses his vast wealth to drive or fly around the US State of Florida."

The Captain nodded with a stern face and a serious tone. "We know and have the killer who lives here in Miami. His name starts with the alphabetic letter 'A.' He fits the profile perfectly. He is vane, arrogant, rich, enjoys all types of women, moves freely around Miami and has an airplane for fast transportation."

Hardy gasped, "O my! I believe that I know who the killer is, too."

Loree frowned. "O yes! I concur that he is the killer of all eight girls. When do we arrest his ass?"

Hardy shook her curls with a stern face and a serious tone. "Not yet, we do not arrest his ass, because the young and brilliant junior detectives have shown up a pattern based on dates of the week. The killer has killed in the month of July the sixth girl on Wednesday. Then the killer skipped the week. Why would the killer do that?"

The blonde haired young male junior detective smiled. "Because he is flying around someplace else for his new fun, making us crazy with this entire series of individual dead girls here around the surrounding cities of Miami, thus he came back and killed when he was back in town. That would account for the absent weeks of no deaths during the third week of June and the third week of July. Hey, I just realized that he is following his own absent or rest period too. The third week of the month is no dead girls. So there were no dead girls, because the killer was out of town. I checked and confirmed all that information with our sources, too. Thus, he came back and started up the series of dead girl killings again on the fourth week of June with the deaths of second and third girls."

Loree nodded with a stern face. "So you are saying that the killer will kill soon."

The dark skinned and dark haired first female junior detective spun around and pointed at the wall calendar with a stern face and a serious tone. "Yes, I would say based on the pattern of completing another alphabetic capital letter 'A' since the killer has killed on the days of week of Monday and Friday. Then the killer will strike twice on an innocent single girl on Sunday, August first and Saturday, August seventh."

The Captain turned and nodded to each junior detective, "Thank you junior detectives! You have done a fine job here. However, on Sunday, August first, starting at five pm, we will be there to tag him and capture his ass during the process but before the girl is killed. This is the only way to capture a billionaire, since he has billions of dollars to waste upon a set of excellent lawyers to save his ass from the gas chamber of Tallahassee."

Hardy gasped. "Do you really think that he will kill, again? We are not dumb. We have quickly figured out the alphabetic capital letter pattern of his first name. We should publish this information to the general public and the media reporters and frighten him into not killing, again, sir."

Loree nodded. "Yes, I feel that he will strike, again. This type of man likes action and adventure and danger. He will do anything he wants, anytime he wants. And he wants to complete the vanity pattern of his personal name, since nothing is stopping him but greed or attention. It is a human flaw in all of us."

The Captain stood with a stern face and a serious tone. "Detectives Hardy and Loree, go and leave now, drive and head over to Ruby Beach on the west coast of Florida. It is a four-hour drive from Miami. And both of you personally identify these two new dead girls with your keen police observations and bring back all the facts in both electronic and written. I want the facts and the confirmations to come back here. Then I will make an arrest to our killer. Good luck, detectives."

Hardy and Loree spun around to face the open archway and moved ahead through the archway, dashing down the hallway, moving to one of the unmarked police cars and entered the vehicle leaving the police station to visit Ruby Beach on the west coast of Florida.

Sunday August 1st

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Moonlight and warm temperatures with bright stars

Home of Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV

One Coral Beach

Master bedroom setting

He awoke underneath the pink colored satin bed linen sheet inside the bed within a bedroom of pink colored painted walls and ceiling. The night was quiet with stillness. He heard the air conditioning motor running, blowing heavy winds of cool vented air around the master bedroom. It was hotter than fucking hell inside metro city Miami within the month of August. He turned with a sweaty face to see the object on top of the nightstand table.

The clock devise showed the time: 2:31 am.

Tonight, his sleepy time dream occupied a vision of a new female. The new female appeared pretty, determined, not fragile or frilly within her body statute or her assertive personality. He softly chuckled with the mental thought of their introduction meeting soonest, rolling to the side, punching the pillow into a fluffy desire. He dropped down into the coolness of the pink colored satin, falling into a deep slumber.

City of Coral Beach in US State of Florida

(one mile east of Coral Gables)

Hot temperatures with bright sunrays

Away from the hustle and bustle of Highway One, the city of Coral Beach resided in Miami-Dade County, boasting a mayor, a sheriff, a physician, and a lawyer underneath a fake domed city hall. The gated community boasted other unique facilities, such as, a couple of jail cells, an interrogation room, a weapons room, a firing hole, a library, and an art museum.

The beachside city housed a fire department, a helicopter pad, a vehicle and boat garage, a gardener atrium, a mechanic machine and equipment shop, and a postal station. There were numerous house servant residential houses which were surrounded by a state-of-the-art security alarm system too.

The alarm system was hidden inside a set of two distinct iron and concrete decorative sentry security gates.

The landscape entrance into the lovely and lush beachside city of Coral Beach from the east roadside of Highway One nicely intersected at the first sentry gate, where a pair of armed and smiling guards blocked and inspected a set of any warmly welcomed visitors or coldly un-welcomed strangers.

If the lucky party passed through the first sentry, then a second sentry gate blocked and inspected you and your vehicle for a second round of non-fun time.

Once fully accepted and approved by the double sentry gatekeepers, the lucky party ventured down the magnificent majestic avenue of mansions to one of four formal addresses on Coral Lane. The four estates on Coral Lane were surrounded by an eight-hole golf course, a long tree and grassy walking park, and the bluish-green waters of Atlantic Ocean, where both a south and an eastern sun horizon occurred every dawn and dusk.

A yellow cobblestone road named Coral Lane, paralleling a pink colored bricked walkway, displaying a set of four pastel colored mansions, consisting of neon orange, dark green, bright yellow, or a pink sissy hue.

Currently, three separate luxury vehicles of baby blue, silver, and white were parked underneath the veranda at the first estate residence on One Coral Lane.

Home of Austin

Florida room setting

Hot temperatures and partly cloudy with dull sunshine

7:31 p.m.

The phone rang.

He stood in front of the side table, lifting and grabbed the receiver of the landline with a puzzled brow, "Berrington." He had detoured coming from the kitchen into the foyer with a new glass of cold chocolate milk, wearing a pair of blue running shorts, a white T-shirt, and a pair of naked feet.

Austin listened with a stern brow and faced a wall of glass windows, showing the shadows of a grove of tear shaped green shade trees that guarded a row of picnic tables, the wooden swings, the beach hammocks, and a small battery operated refrigerator which stored both food and drink (only beer for Tom) on the golden sands of the Atlantic Ocean.

A perfect spot for young children to roam free and to play without an invasion of rude visitors, mean kids, and half naked sun bathing young girls.

The beach and park was owned by Austin, Frank, Stu, and Tom. No other foot prints were allowed on these golden beach sands.

This was an earthly paradise for a billionaire, who lived in the most beautiful spot on Earth, Miami. The weather was warm all year around for swimming, skiing, fishing, boating, sporting, shopping, jogging, walking, and playing.

And only money could buy this kind of paradise.

Austin had money lots and lots of money, thanking his family ancestor of inheritance from an extremely wealthy father, a very wealthy grandfather, and a slightly wealthy great grandfather.

His great grandfather was part of clan which was called the "Fathers of Miami."

The boys (Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom) called themselves the "Band of Brothers" but they were not biological siblings. Instead, they were "blood" brothers.

Their four non-related biological great grandfathers, in the year 1838, formed the first eternity "bond" of human red blood as a set of four young teens. The four young teens lived among the wild farmlands and wilder forests of northern Florida near the spouting town of Tallahassee, the current state capital of Florida.

Mangrove, the first moved as a teenager from his native country of Spain with his favorite stallion and the other barn animals to the new land of America, where his father worked as an animal veterinarian and occasionally a human physician inside a rural countryside township.

Gage, the first was shipped as a slave from his home land of Africa, working on one of many southern cotton plantations, where he had escaped and headed to the wild and free lands of Florida. He bartered his new skills as a farmer inside the same rural countryside township.

Sawyer, the first came from German royalty, but he was determined to rule his own destiny in the New World rather in the Fatherland, leaving behind his royal family members and his royal family fortune. He became the rural countryside township's mayor.

Berrington, the second traveled inside a wooden ship over the Atlantic Ocean with the other poor peasants from Great Britain, seeking freedom from British prosecution in the new land of America, expanding his trade-ship as a blacksmith inside the same rural countryside township.

Twenty-four years ago

Coral Gables Elementary Prep School

City of Coral Gables in US State of Florida

(three miles, northeast, from sandy Coral Beach)

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy morning

The first mission for the "Band of Brothers" (young six years old Frank, Tom, Stu, and Austin) vowed to honor and protect each "brother" on a cool spring March in first grade at the Coral Gables Elementary Preparatory school building. On the shared playground, an oversized, strong, and tall six-year-old Stu had beaten the shit out of an eight-year-old Cassidy Clay Stone, III, after the kid had called Tom, a wimpy cry baby.

If Austin's long term memory correctly served this was Tom's first of many rescues by his non-biological brother Stu.

Elementary school playground setting

Before the shitty and bloody beating of Cassidy, the four boys stood in a huddle igniting the Quartet tradition.

"We four stick together come hell or heaven forever until eternity," six-year-old Stuart Thant Gage, III said with a smile and a nod from watching too many violent wars and battle television programs.

Grandfather Gage was a formal military officer who was deployed from Miami in the 1940's, fighting in World War Two. Stu was very proud of his grandfather and secretly desired a military career that was not shared by his dad Stuart Thant Gage, Junior.

Stuart was pure logic, discipline, devotion, and loyal as a golden retriever to his master. Stu's master list consisted of his brothers, his families, his friends, his employees, his guests, and his wife Gracie Jean.

Stu did not ever meet a strange. Once he was your friend, you were his for life.

The brilliant man possessed multiple postgraduate degrees, including a doctoral in engineering, a master's of computer science, a bachelor's of mathematics, and certified as a local police officer just for the hell of it.

Austin had welcomed and relied on Stu's brotherhood, friendship, and protection for many years. And it did not hurt that Stu stood tall at six feet and six inches with a set of taut African-American muscles, weighing in at 283 pounds with a bald head, a pair of brown eyeballs, and a set of two sunken cheekbones on an oval shaped face along with the stern fatherly manners of an old soul.

The tallest of the Band of Brothers, Dr. Gage was known as "Big Man" who maintained the peace, harmony, and tranquility with all people at home, at work, and on planet Earth.

"All for one and one for all," six years old Thomas Edison Sawyer, III quoted frequently from his favorite fantasy adventure fiction book, The Three Musketeers.

Tom was a full blown science fiction nut that read, quoted, and annoyed the shit out of ya with his latest and greatest sci-fi novel.

The novels were filled with outer space battles, x-ray guns, and time warped flying ships with settings inside and outside various locations from a white stone castle to a black outer space. Sawyer lived inside his science fiction world and was oblivious to the current social, economic, global, and financial events occurring on a daily basis in Miami, in Florida, in America, and on planet Earth.

Austin truly felt that Tom's highly exceptional IQ of 190 was the blame for that split in his bi-polar personality. A loud mouth foul joker all the time, except when Tom was required to preside over a legal law case and then a brilliant genius smooth talking and fast thinking attorney emerged.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, III had never lost a single legal case for his company, his employees, or his family members since passing the Florida legal bar. The man was furious, fastidious, and feverous with legal and law issues. His brain cells could quote to you any federal, state and local law case, legal ruling, and court procedure, since the year 1829 within the United States of America. Thus, Tom was the "Law Man."

"The band of four brothers may no man force us apart, least ye die," six years old Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third said with a slight smirk.

Frank was the Renaissance man among the group of non-biological brothers. His beating heart ruled his mind. His sharp mind absorbed accounting principles and medicine knowledge as Franklin was a CPA (Certified Public Accountant) who had passed the examination after college. And he was a licensed medical physician of dermatology, after graduating medical school.

However, Dr. Mangrove preferred chess to war and books to guns with his side interest of gemology and art collecting.

So the people called him, "Money Man."

"Brothers in life and the afterlife," six years old Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth cheered with a grin inside a huddle on the playground.

Stu reached and opened his pen knife which had been hidden inside his school uniform. Each boy nicked a finger, squeezing the blood from the cut skin, mixing the blood with each other's finger wound. Then the act and action sealed the newest Quartet blood pact like their great grandfathers in the year 1838.

As the young boys advanced through elementary school to middle school into high school, and finally college, the blood pact had endured and strengthened the Band of Brothers as a family.

Present day and place

Home location of Austin

Foyer setting

7:32 p.m.

Austin continued to perch like a bronze statue in front of the side table and observed with his eyeballs and his neurons into the wall of glass windows in a pair of naked feet, listening to the landline telephone conversation. He did not travel with a briefcase, a notepad, a tape recorder, a laptop, or a mobile telephone, because Berrington did not take notes, record voices, or type key strokes on a console.

He observed, watched, listened, and learned continuously. A nifty trick taught to him by his dad who was a true leader and a future visionary of the elder Quartet, which made them both rich and famous.

His dad said that you could tell a man of guilt, happiness, or angry by his body language, his voice patterns, his eye movements, his finger shifts, and the cups of beverages consumed.

Austin studied, watched, listened, and heeded his dad's advice on every worldly subject. This precious knowledge was not acquired in an academic room, a Sunday school class, an office board room, or a master bedroom only by observation, time, attentiveness, and experience.

His dad was always right, of course, along with the three golden rules for his biological son and non-biological brothers.

No solo performance was the number one rule for his son and Austin's brothers, growing from a gang of young mischievous boys to a bunch of wild pimpled-faced teenagers, and then a team of eagerly bright college men.

Today, the Quartet of four mature adults in early thirties was always surrounded by either their biological family members and his blood brothers and their wives.

Austin Bartholomew Berrington, IV was the chief executive officer of Quartet Associates, both the leader and boss.

Franklin Mangrove, III was the chief financial officer of Quartet Associates as the talented CPA and talented physician.

Stuart Thant Gage, III was the chief operating officer of Quartet Associate both the engineer and the muscle.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, III was the head attorney of Quartet Associates both the legal eagle and the vile jokester of the brothers.

As CEO of Quartet Associates, Austin had established three rules for his brothers.

No solo performance was the number one rule.

The Quartet was the sole owners and operators of a multibillion dollar international security company which was selfishly named Quartet Associates. Some wise-cracking observant people (media types, fools, and enemies) enjoyed referencing them as Quartet Assholes.

Austin found that honorific title fit, occasionally.

No brother traveled alone not even to the boring and mundane Saudi Arabia legal cases which Tom had to preside, when a Quartet client broke a national or international legal law.

Rule number two was no dynamic duos like the pair of super hero antics like Batman and Robin of the 1960s fantasy television program.

Rule number three was no trio performances which was similar to the three stooges, an old black and white comedy Hollywood program played in 1950s. The three brothers caused trouble, made trouble, and stayed in trouble from the beginning to the end of the old television show.

The current Band of Brothers attended all events, social, professional, and public together, unless they were at their private house or on a private vacation with subtlety hidden body guards. After all, Quartet Associates was a security company, where the brothers and their families came first and foremost and were guarded with the highest protection available during any type of social event.

However, Austin and his brothers could take care of themselves also without the detailed and secret bodyguards, especially after Stu's well trained and well-practiced lessons in a series of tough and rough martial arts, weapon training, self-defense, and hand to hand combat classes, sessions, and clashes.

Stu did not make the body workouts fun or dainty more like daunting and exhausting.

Austin ached for days afterwards in his bones that he did not know existed after Stu's tosses, throws, and punches.

However, the Band of Brothers was trained hard, long, and often to maintain their reputations of a highly profitable security company with more high unprofitable enemies.

Austin was five feet and eleven inches tall or in this case short compared to his brothers. He was the shortest, oldest, and leader of the Quartet.

His dad, Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the third still held that very same position within the old band like his grandfather and his great grandfather years before.

Austin possessed a set of multiple college degrees including a BS, a MBA, and a JD from Miami-Dade University. Austin sipped on the cold chocolate milk and watched the stars in the nighttime air waves.

The official dress code of hot sizzling South Florida was casual. Austin had found a wool suit both hot and constricting on his muscular body as he favored his dad's physical frame with a pair of long things, a short waist, and a well-rounded chest which were filled with his muscles bulging down to his hand wrists. He weighed in at one hundred ninety pounds with black wavy hair which was parted on a left side, and a pair of silver almond shaped eyeballs on a triangular golden suntan brown face with a set of high cheekbones.

A cute cliff chin cut across all his cotton turtleneck shirts as Austin liked the turtleneck style and fit with no display of a neck tie or a tie pin or a shirt collar. He wore a turtleneck during the seasonal winter, summer, spring, and autumn, except outside when playing for fun. He replaced the turtleneck with a casual shirt or a T-shirt. He paired a dark or white turtleneck with a pair of an alternating dark or white pair of trousers with a matching or contrasting dark or white jacket. Since, the casual sports jacket possesses his Ghost, the official hand pistol of Quartet Associates for shooting an enemy or any other person daring to piss him off, at the moment.

Inside the Florida room of Austin, as always, the four brothers worked, played, and lounged together, especially on a hot August night in Miami. "Police," Austin lifted up and rested the receiver onto a collar bone, turning with a puzzled brow to see Stu.

"The police?" Stuart Thant Gage, III was a life time brother, a permanent business partner, and a protective neighbor of Austin, standing upright from one of the long sofas without the laptop, toting a cup of steaming green tea and moved ahead towards Austin with a stern face. He wore a pair of tan colored walking shorts, a white knit shirt, and a pair of boat shoes.

Austin listened to the landline telephone and paused to hear the one-side conversation with the security guard at the first gate house. Then, he repeated out loud the new information to his brothers. "First gate," Austin lifted up and listened to the first sentry QA guard unit report on the landline telephone while repeating the shared information to his brothers.

Pause.

Austin reached over and handed the telephone receiver of the landline to Stu. Gage accepted and listened to the telephone with a confused brow, "Hell man! Let them in. Status?"

Pause.

"The police are waiting at our gate." Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III was another life time brother, a permanent business partner, and a peaceful neighbor of Austin, sitting an ass inside an oversized chair, sipping a hot cup of orange tea and stared at the asses of Stu and Austin. He wore a pair of tan walking shorts, a yellow colored T-shirt, and a pair of tan sandals, instead of a pair of trousers in the colors of beige or tan which was coupled with a dark jacket of dark blue or deep maroon lamb's wool. A button down cotton dress shirt of either pink, blue, green, or yellow which was tied with a cheerful wild patterned neck tie that fell down to his waist.

A cool image Misty had cultivated for him as they dated in their college days at Miami-Dade University.

Mangrove was six feet and one inch, same height as Tom. Frank displayed more muscle tissue, weighing in at 202 pounds with muscular leg muscles from his frequent morning jogs coupled with his curved deltoids in both chest and arms from his constant exercises of weight lifting.

Mangrove possessed a batch of red curly hair cropped closely against the skull with a pair of intense emerald green irises, and a bronze tinted complexion, compliments of his great-grandfather from the foreign country of Spain. He displayed an oval face with two sculpted cheekbones, a small forehead, a sharp chin, and an aristocratic nose like his father.

Austin stood next to Stu in case of needed information exchange, listening to the one-side conversation also.

"The police car is clearing the second gate right now," Stu held the receiver into an eardrum while reporting out loud to his brothers the verbal surveillance of the QA guard unit that was following the Coral Gables police car, moving towards the estate mansion of Austin.

"Why is a police car traveling down the avenue to see you, Austin?" Frank frowned with curiosity at the asses of Austin and Stu.

He laughed with a grin, "Police? Shit! It's going to be busy tonight. Which Quartet Asshole broke the fucking law, this time, Stu?" Thomas Edison Sawyer, III was the final life time brother, a permanent business partner, and the troublesome neighbor of Austin, continuing to laugh at the delicate situation, since the police was not affecting his nighttime fun. He wore a new pair of blue jeans and a new red colored knit shirt, and a new pair of soft navy blue leathers with two tassels without a pair of socks, instead of a brand new dark colored wool business suit with a brand new vivid bowtie that usually curled around his skinny pale neck. He didn't possess the usual brand new briefcase or the mini-tape recorder that would record all the verbal documentation of the numerous vocal conversations and important comments for any new or on-going legal law case either.

Tom preferred dressing the part of lawyer, choosing carefully a classic suit of black, dark grey, or navy blue pair with a freshly starched white cotton dress shirt and a brightly playful neon colored bowtie like his dad Sawyer, Junior, a chip off the old block.

He was six feet and one-inch-tall and weighed 180 pounds on a slim bony thin frame with a set of long legs, a short waist, and a flat pale chest. He did not exercise but read for enjoyment numerous science fiction novels from his favored author, Ela. His skull held a set of wispy straight blonde hair and bangs, cutting across a short forehead, highlighting a pair of pretty cornflower blue eyes. Tom possessed a tint of fair skin, a set of thin lips, and twin apple cheekbones on his slender heart shaped face. He nosily slurped on a beer bottle with intrigue of the hot night in Florida.

"Shut up, Tom!" Frank frowned with worry, staring at the back spines of Austin and Stu as a Coral Gables police car was visiting the billionaire paradise of Coral Beach, specifically to see Austin.

"Who's the officer?" Stu said into the telephone receiver, since he was a graduated fellow police officer too and knew every police procedure as well as being the muscle and protector for the Quartet.

He paused and listened to the one-sided conversation of the QA guard on the mobile telephone.

Stu slid the mouthpiece to the left side and yelled out each police officer's name while listening to the other verbal report from the escorting QA guard unit inside a QA vehicle to his brothers. "Detectives Loree and Hardy..."

"You mean Laurel and Hardy?" Tom laughed, quickly referencing an American popular slapstick comedy team that was known from the Hollywood films in the 1930s. Laurel was a short thin Englishman. Hardy was a tall large big American dude.

"Shut up, Tom!" Frank frowned with a bag full of mixed emotions at the delicate situation, staring at the back spines of Austin and Stu near the foyer side table with the landline telephone.

"Hey, man! I can laugh, since I ain't the one going to jail, tonight." Tom continued to laugh, assuming that Berrington had done something wrong to attract the attention for a surprise police officer visit to the Coral Beach estate.

Outside the driveway, the sound of a horn honked through the air waves. Then, the front door rattled with a set of fist knocking sounds.

"They're here." Frank smiled.

Tom laughed. Austin spun around with a stern face and moved ahead, sitting down inside the loveseat in front of the low table with the cup of cool chocolate milk.

Stu replaced the landline receiver and scooted around the side table, dashing on a pair of leathers toward the front door, ripping open one side of the double doors for drama, quickly evaluating the sensitive situation with a fake smile and a nod to the police. "Good evening, officers. Please, come inside. Follow me into the Florida room." He pivoted around and led a motley crew. A short and thin-looking male wore a skin shade of light tan and a tall overweight woman was colored in a ghostly pale complexion. Stu halted between the one of the twin side pink and white striped oversized chairs for each usual guest and spun around to face the uninvited two guests, extending a hand for the formal greeting with a fake smile, evaluating the police visit into the Coral Beach estates, specifically to see Austin.

"Thank you, Stu. I'm Detective Loree. This is Detective Hardy." Loree stopped and stood beside Stu, wearing a pastel short-sleeved shirt with a pair of tan colored walking shorts, a pair of tan colored boat shoes, and a dangling police officer badge around the neck, extending a hand to Gage and released it, turning and sat inside one of the twin oversized pink tinted cloth chairs.

Stu nodded with a fake smile in silence acknowledgment, since he didn't mind the informal greeting and insisted that all his professional acquaintances friends, family, and foes call him by a first name, since he detested the formal title unless he was introduced in a formal event or situation.

The female wore a pastel short-sleeved shirt with a pair of tan colored walking shorts, a pair of tan colored flat shoes, and a dangling police officer badge around her neck and rudely ignored the nice and hospitality manners of Stu and quickly strolled into the Florida room, advancing directly to Austin who was seated inside a twin pink and white striped loveseat.

"She's a female." Tom pointed with a giggle at the moving officer and slowly standing upright from a white colored oversized chair, slowly sipping a bourbon drink as he was readying to exhibit a nasty verbal comment on the early reference of the comedians named Laurel and Hardy.

"Correct, you are, Thomas. You passed your eye exam. Now, we know that you don't require a pair of eye glasses. Sit down, Tom!" Frank faked a smile without seeing Sawyer. He quickly controlled his worried about Sawyer becoming arrested for the harassment of the present law enforcement officers as he concerned about a carefree Austin.

It was highly unusual to have a single Coral Gables police visit to the one of the estate homes on Coral Beach, since Chief of Police Leo Trilling had been instructed to always contact watchdog Stu immediately, instead the Quartet seemed to be providing a personal guided tour of Austin's manor, this evening.

"Smart ass doctor," Tom sat back into the individual sitting chair and stared with a sour frown at the nose profile on Frank.

Frank stood upright from the solo chair and moved ahead with a fake smile, stopping and sitting down on top of the loveseat next to a carefree Austin, who was ignoring the side verbal comments, the physical attentive police officers, and the barking pups.

Stu politely pointed down to the long sofa with a fake smile, mentally pondering the reason for a nightly visit to Coral Beach and Austin's house. "Please have a seat. Would you care for a light beverage, Officer Hardy?"

"No." Hardy sharply said and moved closer to Austin. He was parked inside a pink and white loveseat, entertainingly watching with eyeballs and neurons, slipping on a cup of cold chocolate milk. Officer Hardy reached out and dragged a light weight sitting chair and then planted it in front of the low glass table that separated her and Austin.

Loree moved ahead and grabbed a second chair, moving it across the tile floor, parking beside his police partner Detective Hardy with a stern face.

Stu stood with crossed arms in a white shirt perpendicular to the police, observing and listening with peaked interest and intense angry. "What can we do for you, detectives?" He had decided to conduct this investigation his way while allowing a mellow Austin the freedom to object, reject, or bail.

The queen sized female police officer Hardy leaned over with a stern face to see Austin in silence.

Loree sat back into the softly cushioned pink chair with a stern face and a nod, pulling out a blue ink pen and a paper notepad from a shirt pocket. "Mr. Berrington, there has been a rash of deaths, lately. Are you aware of them?"

"No." Austin softly said.

Tom observed with a pair of eagle eyeballs and a set of lawyer neurons, sipping on the tart bourbon. Stu inched a little closer toward the chair of Loree, waiting and watching.

Loree continued to stare at Austin with a slight smirk. "The rash involved, to use a gentle phrase, acquaintances of your person."

"Really," Austin softly said and then sipped the chocolate milk.

"Mr. Berrington, we're asking for your assistance in this delicate manner?" Hardy frowned.

"Of course," Austin softly said then sipped the milk.

"Could you view these photos, please?" Hardy leaned over and handed a stack of glossy colored pictures from a palm to Austin. He leaned over and accepted the stack, staring at the first picture in silent and placed the stack over the glass table. He slowly flipped each glossy photo carefully face down over the table. Frank scooted over a few inches, hovering near the collar bone of Austin, scanning with medical eyeballs and medical neurons the same police photographs.

Tom stood from his assigned seat, stomping with a smile to Frank.

Austin continued to scan each photograph in silence.

"Tom, stay put!" Frank turned and frowned at Sawyer, jabbing a finger back at Tom's assigned seat.

"Now, Tom!" Stu turned and frowned to Sawyer, jabbing a finger back at Tom's assigned seat too.

"Damn!" Tom back stepped with a sour frown and a whisper, sitting on the edge of the assigned seta, straining a pair of perfect vision on the stack of faraway pictures from the police.

Frank shuffled a little closer beside Austin, observing all the glossy police photographs.

Stu stood with a stern face, monitoring the entire room for trouble as the police officers watched and listened intensively to the Quartet.

Tom cleared a throat and stood again trying to weasel a face around the rear back rest of the loveseat for a peek-a-boo shot of the beautiful girls inside the police pictures.

"Down, Tom." Stu said with a stern face and a set of crossed arms.

Tom sat back down, leaning a torso over the air space as a left eyeball caught a glance of one of many pictures while mumbling quietly. "Shit."

"I recognize every single one of these women." Austin carefully remarked, reviewing the glossy stack for a third time, very slowly.

"Your girlfriends?" Hardy nodded with a smirk.

"Former flames," Austin said with a stern face, spreading each glossy photograph over the low glass table, looking with great discomfort at the first photograph. He saw a familiar face and allowed a more focused highly security trained mind to overtake a set of his deep emotional reactions. Austin noted that each dead body posed with a small unique object in a hand. The first photo female held a ballerina shoe. The other unique objects held by the dead girls included an artist paint brush, a tennis ball, a one-hundred-dollar bill, a mirror, a number two lead pencil, and a teacup.

Loree faked a poker face while studying the tart reaction of Austin. "These girls were murdered, Mr. Berrington."

"Murdered?" Austin looked up with a puzzled brow to see Loree.

"Murdered!" Hardy said with a poker face while studying the body language of Austin.

Tom sat upright with a grin, "When? Who? Where? How?"

"Tom, allow the officers the questions first. Then we will take our time and answer all the poses questions from the police officers." Stu recommended with a stern face and a nod as the first step of police investigation.

Sawyer eased an ass back down inside the padded chair, sucking on the bourbon while pretending to be bored, since he really wanted to see the gross female murders that were spread over the coffee table, but his visual angle was poor even with his excellent eye sight.

"When was the last time you saw this one?" Hardy reached and touched the first glossy photograph of a beautiful dead girl.

Tom leaned a torso over the air, trying to view the grotesque picture of a dead former flame of Austin.

"Stay, Tom." Stu ordered without hand movement, monitoring the room with security eyeballs and security neurons for trouble.

Sawyer sat back into the chair with a huff of frustration, tapping the free hand of fingers over the soft cushion without sound, slowly leaning a torso over the air waves, moving toward Austin and the glass table of glossy pictures of dead former flames.

"Alive and breathing on June the ninth," Austin said with charming wit, since he recalled every girl and every event for a required or not required social party. Hardy, a large female police officer authority figure did not intimidate Austin with her snide questions, since you could not intimidate Austin. He sipped on the milk.

"As acquaintances of your person, do you recognize all these girls?" Loree said with a stern face.

"Yes." Austin looked down with a stern face at each glossy picture for a fourth time.

Loree said with a stern face at the black hair roots on Austin. "The dirty deed has appeared to have been committed in a private home at a different day and a different time."

"A pattern!" Austin stared with a stern face at each picture.

"No pattern!" Hardy nodded with a smirk at the hair roots on Austin.

"By whom?" Stu said with a stern face, glancing at the set of glossy pictures upside down.

"Unknown at this time," Loree said with a stern face to the hair roots on Austin.

"Any clues?" Stu exhaled, staring at the upside down pictures of the dead girls.

Hardy frowned. "Where were you on June twenty second?"

"With a new flame, alive and breathing," Austin said with a smirk for his annoying fun, since he has a stud reputation with women at the age of fourteen years old, when he was allowed to date with the permission from his parents.

Planet Earth knew that Austin dated, seeing the drama unfold each and every day and night on the boob tube or glossy high priced magazines or cheap newspapers or and the internet thumbnails. He had not killed any of the girls inside the photographs, because someone would have noted, posted, and arrested his ass.

The police were desperate or stupid, since any US Federal court system required a weapon, a motive, and any intent, not just lots of dead gross decaying bodies in vivid color.

Austin exhaled in frustration and puzzlement.

Each dead girl captured inside a photo had been escorted to one single social event with him, while Austin had enjoyed her entertaining company for a single evening, not the next morning. He always arranged for his limousine to tarry "her" ass back home, the next day, out of his gray eyesight which was the same routine, the same sequence, the same process, but a different girl. Austin exhaled with a huff of the same old pattern of dating a non-wife material.

His mom had lectured again this week, while his dad had nagged like an old pea hen wife for Austin to grow up, get settled, and get hitched, starting the new baby "band of brothers" boom. That was not likely to happen in the near future, since Austin rarely contacted a former flame for a second time, moving his nicely polished and worn leathers to the next female, like his steady slick steel personality.

Austin's personality was tough, rough, and vicious to outsiders while maintaining a calm, controlled, and fearless attitude to his loving family members, since Berrington was the leader of the pack of vicious hungry wolves.

The pups had grown into a set of four strong healthy animals that were coupled with a series of distinct habits, unique behaviors, and different colors. The variety made the men both unique and different to each other, but the strong formation created the Quartet, a set of four individuals of equal talents but varied skills.

Austin was the boss. He ruled, ordered, and dictated, because all of his commands were followed to the letter with all I's dotted and the T's crossed and there was no exception.

Austin did not intent to rudely belittle the female police officer, but he was not going to allow the low level authority figure to undermine his domain. Anyways, she started it with her impudence attitude.

Me casa, su casa! The Spanish expression greeted a welcoming guest in the city of Miami with a friendly English translation: My house is your house. However, Austin had a different edit for an un-welcoming guest inside his castle: You mean, I meaner.

"Do you know this girl, Mr. Berrington?" Loree lifted and held a new glossy picture next to a smirk.

Austin looked up with a smile. "Pretty girl," he had remarks with an indirect and unanswered comment. He surprisingly recalled a fussy image of her in his dreams at 2:31 am this morning and maybe she was a suspect of killing eight of his former girlfriends.

"Is she a former flame, also?" Hardy smiled and used Austin's terminology.

"No." Austin stared at the glossy picture of the female with a stern face.

"Have you seen her around town, maybe?" Hardy frowned.

"No." Austin stared at the unfamiliar girl inside the police photograph with a stern face.

"Have you seen her around any of your numerous social activities, balls, picnics, banquets?" Hardy frowned.

"No." Austin stared at the photo with a stern face.

"Too bad," Loree exhaled with a stern face.

"A victim?" Stu frowned at the side view of the glossy picture inside the hand of Loree.

"No." Loree held the photo with a stern face.

"Next victim, perhaps," Stu frowned.

"She's a suspect." Hardy turned with a smile to see Stu.

"So far, the only one," Loree continued to hold the photo with a stern face at Austin.

"Any evidence, weapons?" Stu frowned.

"Unknown at this time," Hardy said to Stu.

All the glossy pictures fascinated and played within an active clinical psyche, giving him a chance to re-direct the conversation away from Austin and toward the real killer of Austin's former girlfriends, Frank remarks. "Each girl is posed in a studious position."

"Studious, that is an interesting term, Dr. Mangrove." Loree turned and nodded to Frank.

Stu turned with a smile and a nod to see Frank. "Would you care to elaborate, Frank?" He liked it when Frank took charge of an unexpected delicate situation, since his medical training and his Renaissances hobbies always thrust a unique directional light at the problem from Frank's point of view, because Mangrove was seeing something that the two police detectives had missed.

Frank pointed down at each photograph with a stern face and a serious tone. "Each girl is posed like she is being photographed for a picture with a unique object inside a left hand."

Hardy frowned. "We see that, too. We figured that out, too."

Frank nodded. "Then, you must have assumed that the murderer is left-handed, too, since a left-handed person would only pose an object inside another person's left hand."

Hardy frowned. "Yes, we figured that out, too."

Loree nodded with a smile. "I agree with you, Dr. Mangrove. So do you happen to know a left-handed person, Mr. Berrington?"

Austin said. "No."

Frank nodded. "The unique object must also play a significant role in the death of each girl. The first photograph shows a ballerina slipper inside her left hand."

Hardy frowned. "She is a ballerina by professional, but Mr. Berrington would know that also since he dated her one time only. Don't you, Mr. Berrington?"

Frank nodded with a smile at the row of police pictures. "So the murderer is playing a mental game with the dead girl and the object. This is indeed a mentally sick and unstable individual."

Loree nodded with a smiled at Austin. "I agree with you, again, Dr. Mangrove. So do you happen to know another mentally sick and unstable individual, Mr. Berrington?"

Austin said. "No."

Stu frowned at the red hair roots on Frank. "Thanks for your input, Frank. Let us continue and complete the police interview. The night is getting late."

Loree smiled at Austin. "Do you have an observation to contribution here, Mr. Berrington?"

Austin said. "No."

Hardy said. "All the females were of Caucasian skin tone, twenty to thirty-something years of age, well educated, and worked a professional job."

"Different ages, backgrounds, careers, ethnics, religion," Loree said with a stern face.

"No common denominator?" Stu frowned.

"Only one, one common denominator," Loree looked up with a wink and a smile to see Austin.

"What's that one common factor?" Stu frowned.

"Austin Berrington." Hardy smirked at Austin.

The cool breeze quickly shifted inside the Florida room.

Austin did not twitch a facial muscle.

Tom swiftly stood with a long sigh, banging a musical tone of two folded fists against a new pair of faded blue jeans.

Frank looked up with a sneer and a sour face to see Loree and then Hardy.

Stu turned with a growl to stare at the nose profile on each officer, readying to toss a pair of asses into the bluish-green waters of the Atlantic Ocean that flowed outside the back patio of Austin's mansion.

"How so?" Tom exhaled with a puff of annoyance and calmed down his manner like a criminal lawyer.

"Former flames, the detective mentioned the connection at the first of our conversation." Austin smirked to Hardy. Stu nodded in silent acknowledgement to Austin.

"I did that for a reason." Hardy chuckled at Austin.

"I'm a suspect." Austin said with a stern face.

Hardy shook her short brown colored curls with a smile. "Not really! But, I'm very glad you're cooperating, Mr. Berrington."

"I'm very happy to cooperate, Detective Hardy." Austin smirked.

"What other data do you require from Austin?" Stu moved with a growl and stood with a stern face between the pair of useless police officers and the silly conversation, forcing an end of to the lucrative and illegal police interrogation which will be done and gone from his perspective, soonest.

Hardy cocked a chin and a smile to Austin. "Should we speak in private, Mr. Berrington?"

"Hell no! Speak here right now!" Tom sneered. Austin and his brothers could count on the asshole lawyer to defend the honor and the person of his brothers, his sisters, and his family members, whether right or wrong. That was the point of being part of the Quartet, providing unconditional love, support, and protection twenty-four, seven days per week and three hundred sixty-five per year plus leap year day, too.

"There is no need for privacy," Stu frowned.

"Since, all brothers..." Frank smiled.

"...and attorney..." Tom sneered.

"...are all present," Stu nodded with a stern face.

"That is quite correct!" Austin leaned back with a smile and a nod into the comfortably loveseat beside Frank.

"This is just a formal procedure, Mr. Berrington." Hardy smirked.

"Understood," Austin said.

"Please precede, detectives!" Stu frowned.

Hardy exhaled. "You dated each girl for one, only one social function. Do you see her anymore, Mr. Berrington?"

"Correct." Austin said with a stern face.

"You entertained her and then sent her on her way." Hardy said with a stern face.

"Her away," Tom sneered.

"Thomas?" Stu stood in place with a sour frown, staring at the nose profile on the two police officers.

"Correct." Austin said.

"Did you see any one of the girls anymore under any different circumstances?" Hardy asked.

"No." Austin said.

"Did you do anymore partying with any of the girls every again?" Hardy asked.

"No." Austin said.

"Did you send any one of the girls a gift like a bouquet of flowers, money, furs, cars, candy, or jewelry?" Hardy asked.

"No." Austin said.

"To summarize, each girl attended one function with you, then after the event, she went back home." Hardy said.

"Yes." Austin said.

"Any more questions for you, Loree?" Hardy turned and nodded with a stern face to her police partner.

"No." Loree stared with a stern face at Austin.

"What's the next step, Loree?" Hardy turned and smiled at Loree.

Loree said, "Warrant for an arrest."

"...for Austin." Frank gasped.

"The pretty girl in the picture, alive and breathing," Hardy turned and chuckled to Frank, Tom and Austin. Stu shuffled and stood over the brown hair roots on Hardy with a growl.

"I thought you said that Austin wasn't a suspect." Frank exhaled in fury.

"Not anymore." Hardy turned and winked at her police partner.

Tom was pissed up to the outer space, standing with a set of folded arms. His foul mouth was shut for once from his infamous elegant string of curses.

Stu was very unhappy, since he was not chuckling with his law enforcement buddies either.

Austin reached out and held the arm of Frank. Just in case, Dr. Mangrove, the caring physician desired to use one of his little tap needles on a neck muscle of Hardy. These people were a set of stupid morons, flying down from the moon who had threatened Austin inside his pink castle on the golden sandy kingdom within Coral Beach, Florida.

Austin was calm, cool, and said in a smooth fatherly baritone timber to the police. "That's wonderful news." He had been a suspect all along within the eyeballs of the police officers, but Berrington didn't kill these girls. However, Austin would find out who did and take care of it, personally, exhaling with a huff of angry and sorrow.

Loree stood and extended a warm hand to Austin with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Berrington. You've been most cooperative with our ongoing murder investigation."

"I'm very happy too cooperative with the police on any legal matter." Austin stood and shook the two extended police limbs.

"Are you leaving us?" Stu did not shake a hand with a sour frown at the nose profile on each officer.

"For the time being," Hardy smiled with a nod to Austin.

"Forever," Tom shuffled from the chair, standing beside the queen-sized Hardy. This was the last time that these cops would appear on the golden shores of Coral Beach. Sawyer planned to harass Chief of Police Leo Trilling with a compliant tonight, if Stu did not beat him to it.

Hardy stared with a smile at Austin. "Mr. Berrington, if we need..."

"...him. Call me, first." Tom produced a handy business 'lawyering' card and shoved it very close into the cheekbone of the police officer with a growl.

Hardy stared at Austin, lifting and grabbed the business card from Tom, "We will, Mr. Sawyer."

"Damn straight," Tom nodded with a growl into her cheekbone.

"Good night, Mr. Berrington, Stu, Mr. Sawyer, and Dr. Mangrove." Loree turned with a smile and waited for his partner. They moved toward the front door. Stu back stepped and scooted around the furniture, dashing ahead of the police officers, grabbing and held open the front door for the exit departure from Austin's estate manor with a fake smile and a nod. "Good evening, officers. Have a safe trip, now?" The police officers moved one at a time through the archway and into the warm evening of Coral Beach away from the Quartet. Stu turned and followed behind a set of wiggling asses of the office toward the unmarked police car with a growl and a sour frown and stopped. The police officers entered and started the car, turning to drive away from Austin's manor.

The two sedans with two QA Guards turned and led the unmarked police car, escorting them from Austin's veranda, down the single city street of Coral Lane, through the second sentry gate, into the first gate, and then out into the public road Sunset Drive.

No one toured the billionaire estate homes in Coral Beach of the Quartet as Stu stood on the porch, watching the vehicles exit down Coral Lane.

Interior Florida room, Tom turned and moved, stopping and standing in front of Austin and Frank with a sour frown. "Why didn't you let me see the gross pics?"

"Bias," Frank stared with a stern face at the closed front door.

Austin stared with a stern face at the closed front door too, "Privilege."

Tom exhaled with a puff of annoyance. "Huh?"

Frank turned and frowned to Sawyer, "You had to be objective, Tom, in case Austin was heading to Valencia Street."

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "Huh?"

Frank smiled. "Jail, Tom, the lock up place inside the police headquarters in the Gables."

Tom exhaled with a huff of annoyance, "Huh!"

"You are familiar with the quaint dainty place." Frank laughed, reminding Tom of his prison time in the police slammer a couple of days ago.

Five days ago, the Quartet brilliantly worked and solved another criminal crime as a set of red, white, and blue crime fighters, making the blood pact of the self-named band of brothers more than just some silly fun time game when murders, suspects, and police interviews are quietly dead serious.

Currently, Austin did not need a verbal exchange between his brothers to read a calculating mind.

Stu was a gentle giant law abiding selfie. Frank was pissed but controlled.

Tom was overprotective, a pretty good quality for a soulless asshole lawyer. He goofed off with silliness around his family and his friends and teased you with shit but do not mess with a brother ever.

Frank turned with a stern face to see Berrington, "The girls, Austin?"

"Former flames," Tom laughed.

"Clueless," Austin stared with a stern face at the closed door, watching for Stu.

"Who do you think killed them?" Tom frowned.

"Clueless." Austin stared at the closed door, watching for Stu.

"Ex-boyfriend, ex-boss, ex-relative" Tom nodded.

"Clueless." Austin stared with a stern face at the closed front door for Stu.

"We need to find out. Tell Stu?" Frank ordered with a stern face.

Tom shook his bangs and his hands. "No, let the MDPD earn their paychecks. No involvement with the Quartet." He turned and frowned to Frank and Austin, since a surprise late night evening visit from the local cops was bad enough. Austin was not a suspect anymore. But, the big boys at the Coral Gables police headquarters could change a meek mind and order a search warrant to look under every nook and cranky of the estate mansion, without Tom's legal eagle aid stopping it.

Sawyer could move a range of muddy mountains but not a US Federal search warrant which might find something, but Tom was very doubtful. Since, Austin hadn't murdered the girls who were killed in their own home, not here at the estate manor.

Anyways, Austin employed a bonded and well-paid maid cleaning service that was very good at eliminating items not associated with his person. That was the point of owning an international security company named Quartet Assholes.

"Why not, Tom?" Austin turned and frowned to Sawyer.

Tom exhaled. "Not our problem, this is local, not international." He didn't want Austin to conduct a personal investigation, but his gut instincts said 'forget it.' Tom easily recognized that determined pissed off facial expression inside the suntanned face of Austin. Berrington mentally formulated a wickedly plot with an even more evil successful idea.

"Damn right about that." Frank turned and nodded to Austin.

"Gawd, I can't believe you are finally listening to me." Tom smiled.

"We do listen. We don't obey." Austin chuckled with Frank.

Tom gasped and then hisses at his asshole brothers.

Frank frowned. "Austin doesn't obey fools, Tom."

"Fools?" Tom gasped with fury.

"You!" Frank chuckled.

"Me?" Tom gasped.

"You finally admitted it, fool." Frank laughed as Tom reached and touched the hidden Ghost inside the pocket of his trousers with a hiss at Frank.

"Calm down, fool!" Austin reached and grabbed the right shooting arm on Tom with a stern face and a low growl.

"I dare you to shoot him, me, Stu!" Frank smiled and toyed with Tom's deep mixed-up inner emotions.

Sawyer jerked his arm from Austin and stood in place, crossing the arms, hissing at Frank. Austin frowned at Tom. "Back to business, Tom!"

The door slid open.

Stu entered and moved with a sour face from the open door, kicking the door shut with a single leather sole, stomping towards the huddle with his brothers and stopped, standing in place, looking with a confused brow at Berrington. "What's the deal with the dead girls, Austin?"

"Clueless." Austin said with a stern face. Frank and Tom laughed. All eyeballs turned and stared at Gage.

Stu turned and frowned to each brother. "What the hell does that mean, Austin, Frank, Tom, clueless?" Frank, Tom, and Austin laughed again.
Monday August 2nd

8:08 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunrays

Home of Dr. and Mrs Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III

Two Coral Lane house address

Office den setting

Inside the private office space within his house, the narrow rectangular-shaped room was anchored at the end of the long entrance hallway with the two lines of softly rattling knights of silver polished armor plus a sheathed authentic sword for both privacy and isolation. The room was the smallest space within the manor. Each one of the bathrooms was slightly wider and deeper.

Within the office den space, each wall, the floor, and the ceiling consisted of set of rich black tinted bamboo, coming from the country of Africa. There was set of embedded artificial bulbs that brightened the room for work or darkened the room for thought.

The room was brightened illuminated at the moment.

The short entrance wall held an arched frame with a single door that was painted on the interior in the color of rich black to match each wooden wall, making the room almost midnight black like the night sky. Beside the curved archway of a single extra-wide entrance door, there was a pair of life-sized Gothic sculptures of two royal kings which were made from dull gray limestone.

The two authentic Gothic sculptures had come from an ancient church within country of France. The church started the building construction in the year 1220 AD and finished in the year 1270 AD. During the fifty years of building and stone construction, a set of numerous life-sized sculptures were designed and built for the interior and the exterior of the church structure. However, a handful of these same life-sized Gothic sculptures had become lost or actually had been stolen and sold by one of the bishops of the church for gold to pay off outstanding debts. Or the bishop would rest a face over the smooth wood of the guillotine as they tale went.

Throughout the centuries, a few of the life-sized sculptures survived inside an art museum from a few private owners. Then the children of the owner or the divorced bitch or bastard would kidnap and sell off all the life-sized sculptures to the highest bidder for more gold or money.

Frank had an art curator inside the country of France that always kept an eyeball and an eardrum looking for a rare piece of art work, since he was a billionaire with billions of dollars to spend. The curator had heard about and found a set of two life-sized authentic Gothic sculptures, ransoming a fortune from Mangrove for the original two art pieces.

Parked in front of the rolling tacky gates at Tom's homely manor, there were a pair of tall gray tinted limestone ugly gargoyles, but he didn't acquire the set of ugly things from an authentic art curator. He had the tow concrete statues designed and commissioned from a novice sculptor in the country of Canada, who was a science fiction nut like Sawyer.

Inside the tiny office den space, the short forward wall held an elegantly shaped old fashioned white tinted marble fireplace with a long mantel. The mantel contained a row of ancient antiquities between the vases of fresh cut flowers. The fireplace could properly function if it had ever been lighted with a burning fire.

The southern geographical region of the US State of Florida resided within sub-tropic weather, where the trees, the vegetation, and the insects grew thick, bigger, and tallest than the rest of the USA.

Frank would ever start a real burning fire inside the fireplace within the tiny room. The working art work was a slick duplication of one of the numerous elegant fireplaces inside the original Windsor Castle within the country of England. He had seen the glossy slick picture inside a magazine and copied the design.

Above the fireplace, there was a sideway oil-painted portrait of a long black colored sofa with a nude Misty Marie. She had enjoyed posing for the painter as Frank seriously watched the painter, outlining the handle of his Ghost. The painter quickly glanced back and forth at Misty and swiftly finished the art work, collecting a ransom money fortune from Frank, ending the commission. Then the painter retired and moved to the Bahamas, enjoying his wild bachelor days and nights.

Thus, the private tiny office den room was only accessed and used by Frank. None of his nosy brothers had ever visited this room within the Mangrove manor. And none of his nosy brothers would ever as long as Frank breathed and carried his Ghost.

One of the side walls held a set of undivided glass window which showed off the beauty bluish-green tinted Atlantic Ocean water, if the set of closed drapes had been tied off to the side for the gorgeous view. There were a set of heavy dull yellow colored velveteen drapes with a set of golden colored tassels that puddled down over the black colored floor and closed off each window into darkness. The window view was a waste inside the office room.

During his bachelor days, Frank had used the room to escort bachelor Tom and his gang of sexy whores through the manor, without messing up the fine interior of the house. When Tom and Frank was a pair of unmarried males, Tom would visit Frank out of boredom, but he always brought a whore or two for dinner. Thus, Tom and the whore would enter through the entrance doors and travel down the long hallway of rattling knights. Then they would exit into the beach patio through this room.

After Frank and Tom married, Frank redecorated the small room for his private space. He could come here to ponder and mental think out a problem.

Misty Marie never disturbed her husband while inside his secret sanctuary, secretly working on something for entertainment. She was busy with her personal hobbies of shopping or exercising.

Currently, Frank possessed a gigantic problem which was not directly related to him or his work job at Quartet Associates, but his brother. And the problem greatly bothered his smart neurons.

In front of the viewing windows and the closed thick yellow colored drapes, there was a six-foot writing desk which was made of dark wood with a set of golden inlays that went around the edges.

The writing desk was an authentic piece of furniture from the Windsor Castle inside the country of England, where Queen Elizabeth, the second had given the furniture to one of her children. Then, the child had given the writing desk to one of their children. Then, that child had given away the writing desk to one of their cousins or so the story goes.

Then, the writing desk was stolen or sold on the black market for money.

Frank had a curator within the county of England that heard and found the writing desk, alerting Mangrove of the sale and the final purchase of the item. The six-foot writing desk was empty of crystal ornaments or tall figurines, only a leather-bound calendar of the current year.

The office space was not a comfortable room with a set of lounging sofas for a guest or a side table with a food tray for his brother Tom. There was not a thick floor room for the feet either.

Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, III was a lifetime brother, a permanent business partner, and a peaceful neighbor of Austin, wearing a wrinkled knit short-sleeved shirt, a pair of wrinkled tan walking shorts, and a pair of naked feet on top of the cool wooden floor, feeling worried and frustrated. He ignored the cup of tea that had become cold and dark, staring down with a worried brow at his home-made design.

Last night around seven thirty in the evening, the Coral Gables police interrupted the fun night activity of the Band of Brothers and invaded the private home of Austin inside Coral Beach, without justice or just cause. Then the pair of investigative detectives had the audacity to inaccurately accuse Austin as the newest series murderer of a string of young adult and pretty dead girls, since each dead girl happened to be a former flame of Austin as well.

Frank could understand the legal connection but not the motive of the police department of Coral Gables. The police department displayed dishonor by not having the gentleman courtesy to contact Stu, a fellow police officer either.

However, Stu had contacted Chief of Police Leo Trilling at his home and demanded all the information that led to Austin as a suspect within a murder police investigation. Trilling had relayed the shared information by electronic media to the laptop of Stu. Stu had shared the information with Tom and Frank.

Austin didn't care and wasn't concern, since he did not commit the murders of each of one his former flames but he was going to find the true killers with time.

All of this made Frank very concerned and worried. His other three brothers didn't seem to care or concentrate on the wistful matter which had been collected, christened, and completed by the Coral Gables police department.

Austin had closed the office for the work day on Monday for each executive suite on the thirty-third floor, since he had to travel to Ruby Beach and bury a couple of former flames for the afternoon.

Thus, Frank had traded in the preppy business suit and the brightly colored necktie for casual attire.

He leaned over the writing desk and stared down at his home-made design, rubbing the white dandruff off the red curly hair roots in worry and frustration. The design showed two months of June and July of the current year where the first dead girl died on June ninth, Wednesday night. The second dead girl died on June twenty second, Tuesday night. The third dead girl died on June twenty fourth, Thursday night. The fifth dead girl died on July fourth, Sunday night. The sixth girl died on July tenth, Saturday night. There was not a death on the first week. There was one death within the second week. There were no deaths in the third week of June. There were two deaths in the fourth week of June. The last week of June was shared with the month of July which recorded no deaths either.

Frank frowned with a whisper. "I do not see a pattern here."

The Coral Gables police department had theorized a pattern based on the calendar days of the week that pinpointed the series murderer of a string of bachelorettes inside the surrounding communities of Miami.

In the month of June, the killer murdered only on Wednesday, Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday and Saturday. The killer skipped a murder date on the days of Monday and Friday for some reason. The killer purposefully selected the days of the week, not the dates on the calendar.

In the month of July, the first week of July, there were not any dead girls. The second week of July there were two dead girls. And the third week of July, there was one dead girl on July fourteen, which was on Wednesday, the sixth girl.

He picked up the number two pencil and drew a diagonal line from the second week of June on the first dead girl on Wednesday which was in the middle of the week, going down to the fourth week of June toward the second dead girl on Tuesday. He saw a perfect diagonal line like within mathematical concept and drew a set of connecting diagonally lines for each dead girl one through five.

The first dead girl of Wednesday was located in the middle of week which was drawn down to connect toward the second dead girl on Tuesday of the fourth week which was drawn down to connect toward fourth dead girl on Sunday in the month of July, making a perfect diagonal line on the left side of the desk calendar. He drew on the right side of the calendar an opposite line from the first dead girl of Wednesday which was located in the middle of the week which was drawn down to connect toward third dead girl of Thursday of the fourth week, which was drawn down to connect toward fifth dead girl of Saturday in month of July.

Frank wiggled the pencil in the air with a worried brow and a whisper. "Yes, I do see a perfectly upside down capital letter V."

The Coral Gables police department had informed and updated Stu with shared information. The killer taunted and teased the police with the first or last letter of her name. The killer was a real genius and a real psycho. However, the killer didn't have any relatives or friends that started with the letter V in the first, middle, maiden, or last name. Thus, the police eliminated all the blood kin, the co-workers, the neighbors, the friends, and the interviewed boyfriends.

Frank drew a horizontal line between the days of Tuesday and Thursday and then drew a straight horizontal line between the second dead girl on Tuesday and then flowed it down directly toward the third dead girl on Thursday. Thus, the alphabetic capital letter of V became an alphabetic capital letter of A.

He wiggled the pencil into the air with a sour frown and a whisper. "Yes. I do see a visual alphabetic pattern within the selected calendar days of the week like the police had theorized."

The police department used the same ridicule childish method which displayed the beginning of the alphabetic letter A, the same design within the month of July also. The Coral Gables police department checked for all relatives, friends, coworkers with the capital letter A for each dead girl and they came up with the first suspicious killer, Austin Berrington, the fourth.

Frank's home-made calendar design showed the same two months of June and July of the current year with a set of red colored dots on each death day and a set of pencil colored straight lines that connected and displayed the imagery letter of A for the name of Austin Berrington, the fourth.

He continued to sit inside an ancient Queen Anne's chair which was made of puke green fabric and outlined in gold inlets behind the authentic British royal office desk, without watching an assortment of six separate five feet wide television plasma monitors, showing the current news program of the day. Each plasma screen flicked without sound but with the colorful movement of video recordings of the yesterday and the morning news events. Each screen was mounted on the opposite side of the office desk for studying, pondering, and viewing worldly happenings and current events. One the plasma showed the Spanish network station, since Frank spoke the Spanish language.

On the second row near the end, the active television plasma screen showed a red haired news broadcaster that shoved a microphone into the fat rose-colored cheekbone of Miami-Dade Chief of Police Leo Trilling, without an introduction.

Frank looked up with a worried brow and reached over, pressing the associated remote control button on the plasma, hearing the interview of Trilling.

The police officer said with a stern face into the camera lenses. "At this time, the Coral Gable police department continues to search for the crazy-ass serial killer who has committed a series of heinous murders on an assortment of individual young females inside her private home residence here within the metro Miami area. The interrogation should reveal one or more accomplishes for arrest and then prosecution. I am most assured. There does appear to be the same motive and the same mysterious murderer without a murder weapon. However, we advise that there could be more than one killer. Please be diligent and watchful within your happy neighborhoods. We will continue to keep the public at large posted to any more process of this on-going police murder investigation. Thank you, Police Chief Leo Trilling."

The news reporter nodded and turned to face the news camera lenses with a stern face. "You have heard from police..."

Frank reached over and slammed the volume off the television screen with a gasp. "Police Chief Leo Trilling is referencing Austin. Austin is still under the police murder investigation. I don't understand. Austin didn't kill any one of his former flames. Someone else did. Someone is guilty. Someone is going to die. But it is not Austin." He looked down with a worried brow to see the home-made design without jolting down a handwritten note on the paper.

There were three golden rules for the Quartet. No solo performance was the number one rule. Rule number two was no dynamic duos interaction. Rule number three was no trio performances.

The current Band of Brothers attended all events, social, professional, and public together, unless they were at their private house or on a private vacation with subtlety hidden body guards. After all, Quartet Associates was a security company, where the brothers and their families came first and foremost and were guarded with the highest protection available during any type of social event.

However, Austin could take care of his person but he never ventured out any further than the business office inside Coral Gables or his home inside Coral Beach.

Frank chuckled. "Austin is one boring person. And he never goes solo, breaking the first rule of the Quartet. That ugly honor has been bestowed and belongs to me. Damn, you, Babe of the East! Well, that girl is in heaven now. She didn't really harm me, but she was truly the victim here, there, wherever. Forget it, Frank!" He exhaled with a huff of annoyance.

He had recalled the face and the pose of each dead girl from last night when Frank had reviewed the stack of colored police issued photographs with Austin on top of the low table. Now, a duplicate set of colored pictures lined the edge of his writing desk. He turned and studied the line of dead girls within an individual photograph, compliments of computer geek Stu.

Each dead body was posed with a small unique object in a hand, left. The first photo female held a ballerina shoe. The other unique objects held by the rest of dead girls included an artist paint brush, a tennis ball, a one-hundred-dollar bill, a mirror, a number two lead pencil, and a teacup.

Frank frowned with a whisper at each photograph. "Some of the objects made sense like the ballerina shoe. The first dead girl was a dancer. Some of the objects didn't make any sense like the number two lead pencil," gasping. "The mirror represented vanity. The teacup represented hotness or warmth. The pencil is smooth and short. The tennis ball is rounded and rough. The one-hundred-dollar bill is rich and powerful. The art paint bush is creative and clever."

He turned and read the final police report. The police concluded that the killer was a vain, warming, smooth talking monster, who was left-handed and liked to kill after working hours and used his vast wealth to drive or fly around the US State of Florida for each killing death job.

He frowned and tapped the pencil over the hard surface, "Each object was posed in a left hand, not a right hand," gasping. "Austin is left-handed. No one really knows that, except for his brothers. Austin doesn't compose a love poem or a financial statement or a computer program. He is the powerful boss, the clever leader, and the rough, vain, smooth badass of the Quartet. Yes, I can see why the police tried to tag or pen the murders on Austin."

Frank and his parents were discussing a heated topic at dinner the other night, his brother Austin and his brother's nasty dating habits. Each member of the party concluded wholeheartedly and with sincere love. Austin needed to grow up, get settled, and get hitched to a nice girl, starting the new baby "band of brothers" boom. Then all the brothers could become fathers and sell Quartet Associates.

He looked with a sour frown and pitched the pencil at one of the television screens in angry and frustration at Austin.

10:06 a.m.

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Home of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third

Four Coral Lane

Living room setting

Tom rested on top of the long sofa which was comfortable, landing vertical in a new red colored knit shirt and a new pair of white colored walking shorts with a pair of bare feet on top of the opposite arm rest as he covered the entire sofa with his tallness and an e-book machine inside a face. He occasionally snorted or grunted or snickered or purred with a set of invisible steams of animal noises within a set of parted lips, two nostrils, or an esophagus at the associated physical reactions of the book's characters in a new science fiction novel Unknown Me by his favorite author Ela.

She was five feet and ten inches. Her skull showed a set of curly light reddish-brown hair, and a tone of pink tinted skin. Her golden freckles came from swimming exercises inside their pool. Jane wore a yellow colored sundress and a pair of naked feet, reading the local newspaper, pondering the latest news about a captured and contained killer of Berrington's Babes. The legitimate news article was highlighted with a silly reference of a mysteriously medical death of each victim, who was a young beautiful and singularly educated working girl with one single solo common factor, Austin. She exhaled. "Tom, does Austin know this girl inside the newspaper?" She pointed a coral painted manicured finger at the black and white news article with a confused brow.

"Clueless." Tom chuckled at Austin's single silly comment on all the pretty girl murders.

"Tom, does Austin know why she killed his girlfriends?"

"Former flames," Tom chuckled, using Austin's stupid answer.

"Does Austin know why she killed his former flames?"

"Clueless." Tom read the next sentence with a chuckle inside the e-novel.

"There must a psychological connection between her and Austin." Jane frowned at the bare feet on Tom.

"Doubt it," Tom read the next sentence with a smile inside the new e-novel.

"Maybe, a psychic witch connection?" Jane smirked.

"Doubt it." Tom re-read the same sentence with a sour frown of the new e-novel.

"I find this girl interesting."

"Really," Tom read the next paragraph of the e-novel.

"She's a pilot."

"So," Tom read the next sentence of the new paragraph inside the e-novel.

"The papers say that she flew the EMS helicopter into their private homes during her professional work hours and then killed the girls." Jane tapped on the newspaper.

"Former flames," Tom chuckled.

"Austin calls them former flames, not girls." Jane frowned.

"Right," Tom chuckled.

"Asinine." Jane frowned.

Tom dropped the e-machine from a sour face. "Silly, Austin's not silly," he defended his older smart ass brother.

"Not serious, either, women aren't objects of lust." Jane said.

"Hell, yeah," Tom chuckled.

"Hell, no, Tom," Jane frowned.

Tom re-read the same line with a sour frown in the new e-novel. "I acted the same way when..."

"I settled you, sweetheart." Jane turned and looked with a smirk at the e-machine over the face on Tom.

"Right, sweetheart," Tom smiled at the real boss.

"Austin has too much fun." Jane frowned.

"All the damn time," Tom chuckled as he recalled all his fun-time single solo bachelor days which was about seven years ago.

"He needs a wife."

"Agreed," Tom chuckled and re-read the same the sentence inside the e-novel.

"I can't see how she performed the physics with a helicopter during the day light hours on her lunch break..."

"What?" Tom re-read the same sentence with a sour frown in the e-novel.

"The pilot accused of killing Austin's former flames..."

"She's a super pilot." Tom read the next sentence with a smile in the e-novel.

"She's restricted. The pilot's license and copter's flight plan seriously restricts a craft like mentioned on page three of this...."

"She's smart." Tom read the next paragraph with a smile in the e-novel.

"She's smarter than I to pull off that fantastic impossible feat." Jane smiled.

"No one's smarter than you, sweetheart." Tom smiled and complemented the real boss of the household.

"You!" Jane smiled.

"Want debate that, sweetheart." Tom read the next paragraph with a snigger in the e-novel.

"Tom!" Jane exhaled.

"We're even-steven, sweetheart, with twin smarts, twin sass, twin style." Tom re-read the same sentence with a grin and a giggle in the e-novel.

Jane exhaled. "Odd, I don't feel that she did this terrible thing to Austin's former flames."

"Maybe," Tom read the next paragraph in the e-novel.

"Do you think she's innocent, also?" Jane nodded with a stern face at the e-machine that blocked the handsome face of her husband.

"Maybe," Tom read the next sentence in the e-novel.

"She's a victim, right, like the dead girls?" Jane nodded with a smiled at the e-machine that blocked the face on Tom.

"Maybe," Tom read the next sentence in the e-novel.

"She's going to need a good criminal lawyer." Jane nodded with a grin at the e-machine that blocked the face on Tom.

"A great criminal lawyer," Tom re-read the same sentence in the e-novel.

"An awesome criminal lawyer," Jane grinned with a giggle.

"Agreed," Tom re-read the same sentence of the new e-novel.

"You can defend her." Jane tossed her arms and her bangs with a smile at the e-machine that blocked the face on Tom.

Tom quickly dropped the e-machine, turning with a sour frown to see Jane. "What the hell are you talking about Jane, sweetheart?"

"You're an awesome brilliant criminal lawyer, sweetheart. She needs the best. That's you. QA should defend her. She's innocent. I can feel it." Jane smiled with a nod at Tom, encouraging the best man for the tough job.

He exhaled. "And I can feel Austin's nasty wrath on my delicate ass." Tom lifted and replaced the e-machine over a sour frown, finding the next paragraph with a lovingly yell. "No, Jane."

"Yes." Jane smiled.

"No." Tom exhaled without reading the next sentence of the e-novel.

"Tom, we help the little people of the world." Jane nodded with a frown.

"Our QA Foundation helps the little people. We don't do anything but play, sweetheart." Tom frowned at the e-machine without reading the next sentence of the e-novel.

"You don't play? Why aren't you at work? It's Monday." Jane frowned at the e-machine that blocked the face on Tom.

"Austin closed the office." Tom searched for the next sentence in the e-novel

"Why?" Jane frowned at the e-machine.

"He's upset about the girls." Tom found his spot inside the new e-novel.

"Upset? Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth has never ever been upset a day in his entire life. I'm have seen him drunk, mad, furious, vicious, revengeful, competitive, deadly." Jane frowned at the e-machine.

"He's slightly upset, sometimes he's slightly elated. I'm seen him slightly elated, sweetheart." Tom smirked at the next sentence inside the e-novel, since Tom had known the guy from the first day of a shared Quartet nursery crib with a set of four baby boys. Austin had two emotions emotionless or pissed-off. Then the pissed-off one involved Austin's Ghost on someone else's ass.

"When he's with a girl..."

"A flame."

"Fine, a flame."

"The girl?" Tom laughed without reading the next sentence, enjoying the debate with his smart wife.

"The pilot, who is innocent."

"No, Jane."

"Yes, Tom."

"Looky! Austin won't give me permission to defend the pilot, who is innocent, sweetheart." Tom giggled with a grin without reading the next sentence inside the e-novel.

"Why not?" Jane frowned at the e-machine that continued to block the face on Tom.

"She murdered his girls."

"Former flames."

"Forget it, Jane. The answer's no." Tom exhaled with a sour frown, without reading the next sentence inside the e-novel.

"Please, Tom."

"No."

"Pretty please, Tom."

"No."

"Pretty please with yellow sprinklers on top, Thomas," Jane frowned.

"Austin will hang me by my toes from the highest banyan tree in Miami, cutting my fingers off, so I would bleed a slow and painful death for disobeying his bossy command," Tom exhaled with a sour frown, hunting for his spot inside the e-novel.

"Austin has too much power." Jane frowned.

"Austin's the boss."

"You're not?" Jane frowned at the e-machine.

"I'm the lawyer."

"I'm a lawyer."

"Yes, you are, sweetheart." Tom found his spot with a smile, re-reading the same sentence inside the new e-novel.

"I'm a brilliant lawyer with a Florida license." Jane nodded.

"Yes, you are, sweetheart." Tom read the same sentence inside the e-novel.

"Tom, I don't want you to disobey Austin, ever." Jane frowned.

"My toes and fingers, thank you." Tom chuckled with relief that Jane was off the delicate subject of a soon-to-be dead inside the Florida gas chamber with the guilty helicopter female pilot who performed all the cold-blood kill murders of Austin's former flames.

"He's really upset about the girls?" Jane exhaled.

"Austin started his own investigation."

"What for?" Jane frowned.

"Athena and Katt are both dead victims."

She gasped and pointed at the newspaper. "The newspaper..."

"Jane, sweetheart, I was there with the police at Austin's house. I saw the glossy photos." Tom recalled a couple of the familiar pretty faces, even from a weird-ass angle of his assigned chair within his accurate eye vision.

"Sorry, sweetheart for doubting you." Jane nodded to the e-machine.

"Looky, Austin's really upset." Tom re-read the same sentence with a sad face inside the e-novel.

"Why aren't you upset, Tom?" Jane frowned.

"They're not my flames." Tom re-read the same sentence with a chuckle inside the e-novel.

"Your flames?"

"My girls."

"Your girls?"

Tom dropped the e-machine with a smile to his girl, "Jane, sweetheart, I love you. You're my only girl, the only female in the entire universe for me."

"Damn right and proud of it, too!" Jane reached and down his naked leg with a wink and a giggle, "My afternoon's free, how about a siesta?"

"Not sleepy." Tom lifted and covered a face, finding his spot inside the new e-novel.

"Afternoon romp." Jane grinned with a giggle.

"I'm at the best part." Tom re-read the same sentence with a stern face inside the e-novel.

"I'm the best part." Jane gasped.

"Let me finish this page." Tom re-read the same sentence with a stern face inside the e-novel.

"Tom?" Jane frowned.

"I'll read fast. I want to know, if she gets her guy." Tom read the next paragraph with a smile inside the e-novel.

"The guy?" Jane frowned.

"The hero is a girl."

"Flame." Jane giggled.

"No, the girl saves the world inside my e-novel science fiction story." Tom read the next sentence with a stern face, since he was a science fiction nerd.

"Hmm, that is a very interesting analogy, Tom." Jane smiled with a wicked grin.

"What, sweetheart?" Tom read the next paragraph with a smile inside the -novel.

"Nothing, sweetheart. Tom, look at me!" Jane frowned.

"In a sec," Tom pressed a thumb pad to the next new page of his e-novel.

Jane stood and turned, exiting the Florida room.
Tuesday August 3rd

8:51 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (seven miles west of Coral Beach)

Warm temperatures with light showers

Coral Gables Police Station

The pale yellow colored building was painted like the front cover of the local Coral Gables House and Garden magazines within South Florida. Patches of gorgeous colorful pink, orange, and red impatiens were prettily planted around a spraying water fountain that was centered in front of the double glass doors, the entrance way for any and all invited prisoner's guests and family members to meet and greet a jailed prisoner of beautiful downtown Coral Gables.

The only indication of a functioning police station on Valencia Street was a stream of neatly pressed blue uniform of men and women with a pistol, a club baton, a stun taser, and a pair of silver-tinted handcuffs. Coral Gables was a unique city within the United States of America, since one unique requirement of the city was that all color paint on the exterior building consist of any rainbow color of candy pink, baby blue, mint green, pale yellow, or burnt orange. There were no blacks, navy, or browns permitted here within the city of Coral Gables ever.

In the year 1926, the city was built among the ponds of green swamps, the pits of biting brown alligators, and a grove of thriving orange trees, including one of the earlier settlers Julia Tuttle as she was called the "Mother of Miami."

The biological great grandfathers on Tom and his brothers had earned the nickname "Fathers of Miami," making Tom one of the great grandsons of metro city Miami. Thus, the inherited title made Jane one of the great granddaughters of metro city Miami, well sorta.

Tom was not impressed with a historical title, only his fun with the bank account of billions that brought his car and his private view of the Atlantic Ocean, since Tom really was a laid-back kind of guy and sometimes on a single special occasion, a South Florida gentleman, since he was still-in-the-training-mode per role model Frank. Tom was cute, cunning, clever, witty, and fun. But, it was his sincere compassion that won Jane's heart beat over the above personality qualities, even his billions.

The sports car parked inside the lot at the Coral Gables police station.

The car door opened.

Jane scooted out of her personal sports car and slammed the door, moving ahead on a pair of designer gray colored high heels down the row of flowers, around the spitting water fountain, and through the one side of the double doors.

She elegantly strolled in a gray colored designer business suit with a jacket and a pair of trousers through the peach tinted walls of the police reception lobby and stopped, standing at the reception counters, inquiring about a new client. Then, Jane was escorted by a police officer through a door, down a long coral tinted hallway, and pointed into a small conference room of blue baby colors.

Jane entered the police interrogation room and stopped, standing and placed her leather briefcase and a paper notepad onto an empty table, reaching and pressed a green plastic button for the prisoner release from the jail cell into the interrogation room. She felt nervous and energized about a new mission, since she hadn't defended a real criminal client, in a real criminal trial, in a really long criminal time.

Six years ago

City of Coral Gables

Miami-Dade Courthouse

She was five feet and ten inches and. Her skull wore a set of curly light reddish-brown waist length hair, and a tone of pink tinted skin. Her golden freckles came from the bright sunshine in Florida and swimming inside the Atlantic Ocean waters. Jane Seymour was an attorney for the State of Florida Human Development of Children and Families (HDCF) Services. The HDCF was a US Federal government agency that provided assistance and aid for many different types of social programs throughout the metro cities of Florida, including an abuse hotline, an adoption service, child care, domestic violence family safety seminars, foster care protection, homelessness shelters, mental health facilities, refugee services, substance abuse program, and other humanitarian programs for the people living in the great State of Florida.

She worked for the domestic violence department of the HDCF protecting the little tiny children in a court of law from a set of abusive parents or a set of blood relatives, since her primary job was to place a victim of abuse, neglect, or exploitation into a caring and loving Christian home for foster care of the tiny tot away from the dangerous blood relatives.

Jane remembered that night and that Tom.

Seymour had lost the legal case with her latest client named Conner. A four years old male, his guardians had been imprisoned for drug possession, illegal registered hand guns, and beating the child, black and blue.

The State of Florida had taken the child away and placed with a nice older couple.

Jane legally argued and fought lawfully that the child should remain with the older couple, until both parties, the parent and the boyfriend graduated from the mandated substance abuse program with honors, instead of a "dog and pony" show given by a duped State of Florida employed social worker, without working knowledge of a lawyer.

The Florida judge ruled heartbreakingly against Jane, sending the child into a set of vocal sobbing and crying fits inside the courtroom on this very late Friday afternoon after six in the evening.

Her week had been bad with losing another six kids back into an abusive atmosphere. But this day is the worse, since Jane had lost her internally contained tightly held jumbled deep emotions. She started crying with a set of wet hot tears, rolling down a face while seeing the pain etched into a young boy's face.

When the little boy body turned and left the defendant table, she recalled the previous physical bruising of the tiny face and the tiny body of Conner that always burned into her mind and her heart, foreverly.

As she stumbled in a pair of inexpensive low heels from an empty courtroom into the empty and cold lobby tiles, Jane carelessly dropped her unlatched briefcase, spilling out the confidential papers, scattering all items over a dirty tan-colored tile floor. In an effort to catch her purse, the heavy vanilla folders slid to the side and joined the paper mess on the floor, fanning out with more white loose papers from her four previous legal law cases, representing children and their tiny lives that she had lost on a Friday afternoon.

Jane quickly kneecapped down to the floor, trying desperately to pick up the scattered and loose legal papers and bloody photos of kids. Her mind viciously raced and continuously thought of a little Conner who was back into the four hands of the deadly couple with his biological mother and a heartless boyfriend, knowing that they would kill the kid by day break, this time.

Jane could not do a damn thing about it, crying a set of more wet hot tears of a meek tragic mental thought, happening on a daily basis in Florida.

The Florida judge always ruled in favor of the parents every damn time, giving back an innocent unprotected child to a set of violent and uneducated poverty stricken heathens as she cried with more wet hot tears, rolling down both of her twin apple cheekbones. She missed most of the scattered paper on the floor with a set of wandering hands.

A warm soft hand tenderly touched the collar bone of Jane.

Jane did not bother looking up, since she could not see with all the wet moisture inside her light green mint eyeballs and a gulp of clear mucus that dripped down a set of two red nostrils.

A soft warm tenor timber said, "Need help."

The words were so pleading into her eardrums, since she needed assistance, direction, guidance, advice, everything, and anything.

Without any more verbal exchange, two warm soft hands reached and picked up the set of loose papers, swiftly arranging the edges in order and turned, stuffing them back into her briefcase. The two hands locked it tight and right, sitting the leather case upright on the tile floor and then the warm soft hands firmly lifted Jane from the floor, steadying her weak body.

Jane leaned into a shoulder of a tall figure, smelling the cologne of citrus and pine, a male.

The tall male led her through the exit doors of the courtroom without speaking and stopped, motioning with a hand for the transport. Jane mentally zoned out the legal events of a bad day and a worse evening to come while thinking about a little four-year-old innocent and defenseless Conner with his evil mother.

The gleaning golden colored shiny limousine appeared within her eyeballs.

The male slowly moved both of them toward the transport, "How about a lift home, okay?" The warm tenor timber voice that was attached to pair of warm hands asked in a polite soft tone.

"Okay." Jane mumbled softly trying to focus on the present, not the past, since Jane was not impressed with the limousine or the male.

This was big bad metro city of Miami, Florida, where millionaires, billionaires, royalty, VIPs, and wealthy folks rode around the big city in a long shiny limousine for fun. Working lawyers would chauffeur a set of wealthy clients inside a limousine to the legal court, especially for divorces, child custody, and infamous criminal cases.

This was one of the few lawyers from one of the big wealthy law firms, but a nice lawyer to her today, which was rare to itself, especially inside the cutthroat, intense, heated, hot, and cold competitive legal lawyering field in Miami, Florida.

Yet, Jane was grateful for the small amount of help and a lift to her small cozy house in the city of South Miami, since she was trying to practice to be green and rode the public transportation to the downtown the Miami-Dade courthouse building. This morning, she was refreshed and ready to kick ass while this evening, Jane was deflated and defeated, readying for a long nap inside her bed, until Monday morning rolled around for work again.

The warm soft tenor timber said into her cheekbone, "I'm hungry. You look hungry, also. How about a simply dinner, before I take you home? Is that okay with you? My name's Tom."

Jane nodded in silence, since her throat was filled with nasal mucus from baby crying. Anyways, she did not recall the last meal that was consumed, since she was too emotional charged about the day's case load for lunch. She whispered. "Jane." She sniffed back up the clear nasal mucus between the sobs and the tears while wiping a nose and two eye sockets with a right jacket sleeve.

"Nice to meet you, Jane," Tom turned and pumped a soft hand with a set of manicured fingernails, helping Jane into the rear seat of the limousine. She slid into the rear seat. Tom ran around the other door, scooting and sitting not too close on the same bench, looking with a stern face into her nose profile, "Bad day at the office, Jane."

"Uh, huh," Jane looked down with a set of blurry eyeballs at the black carpet, wiping the tears and the snot from a nose.

"I have them, too, Jane." Tom nodded with a stern face at her nose profile.

"Uh, huh," Jane stared with a set of blurry eyeballs at the floor.

"Food's a great ally, when you're down and out, Jane." Tom nodded with a stern face at her nose profile.

"Uh, huh," Jane exhaled and stared down at the floor.

"We'll go to Louie's. Do you like seafood, Jane?" Tom nodded with a grin at her nose profile.

"Uh, huh," Jane exhaled and stared at the floor with a set of blurry eyeballs, wiping off the tears and the snot from a nose.

"Excellent, you know the place too. You can tell me about your day. I'm a great listener, Jane." Tom nodded with a smile at her nose profile, not moving closer to the female lawyer.

"Uh, huh," Jane exhaled and stared at the floor as her back spine relaxed into the soft leather, closing her eyelashes. She enjoyed the comfortable leather seat while forgetting her past failure for the day.

The male who was named Tom, sitting next to her not too close continued to chit-chat in little bits and pieces of a small conversation as Jane nodded or grunted in a slight reply on queue.

The limousine ride was short as the vehicle slowed and then stopped.

Antoine's Restaurant

6:25 p.m.

Warm temperatures and clear sky with bright stars

The driver shifted and moved from the driver's seat, swinging around and stood in front of the rear door of the limousine.

The door opened.

Tom scooted out first and turned, reaching inside and assisted Jane from the bench seat with a smile like a South Florida gentleman.

Jane scooted across the bench seat and exited the limousine, standing underneath a dark sky of a late November winter of Florida. The sunshine swiftly dropped down into the Atlantic Ocean water, if you happened to live on the beach.

Jane turned and stared through a pair of blurred eyeballs. The entrance of building was strange. Then she realized it was the dirty rear alleyway, the exit of the restaurant, not a regular entrance for paying customers and stiffened her tallness, sucking in tons of air molecules.

Tom reached and gently touched her collar bone with a reassuring tenor, "Louie's my friend. He has prepared a table for us in the rear of the building. I thought it better to enter, here and avoid the crowds. Is that All right with you, Jane?"

Jane found her alto voice, swallowing back down the wet tears, feeling safe with this kind stranger as she nodded in acceptance of his kind invitation, trip, and dinner. "Okay."

The door opened with a smiling waitress.

Tom gently shoved her toward the open door.

Private dining room setting

6:26 p.m.

The table and the room were empty and close to the farthest wall, since Tom and Jane were the only dining couple inside the large space. He allowed her to shift inside the cushion. Tom quietly sat on the edge of booth near her, not too close.

The waitresses, not one, but three girls bombard the table with a set of smiles and head nods, standing with ink pens in hand and waited for the food order.

Tom turned and ordered with a smile, "Water and bourbons straight up with strawberries for the both of us along with a medium T-bones plus lobster tails, rice, greens, and rolls with butter. Thank you!"

"Yes sir," the lead pretty waitress smiled. Then all three waitresses back stepped and turned, rushing out of the private dining room for the food order.

Tom turned and smiled into her pretty mint green eyeballs with a nod. "Is it okay that I ordered for us, Jane?"

"Yes." Jane dabbed a wet face with the cloth napkin with a whisper, stopping the flow of wet tears and calmed a set of jumbled emotions, during short limousine ride to the selected restaurant. Then she allowed her feelings and her mental thoughts to lapse into silence, since Jane wanted to help all children, not just Conner.

"What happened to get you so upset? Do you want to talk about it? I'm a great listener, Jane." Tom slightly smiled with a nod into her tear-stained and red-swollen face.

She exhaled with a puff of encouragement, staring into his handsome face while he reached and patted her hand with a nod for courage. Jane sniffed back up the clear nasal mucus into two nostrils and blinked away more wet tears. Maybe, she should talk it out, since it might help her elevate some of her angry and her sadness about Conner and failed children services system in the great State of Florida.

The evening was slowing dying away without the help of Jane. She didn't really want to be alone, not with her awful thoughts of a tiny Conner back with an abusive mother. Jane slightly grinned with a nod. "I work for HDCF."

"Whoa there, sweetheart! The Human Development of Children and Families Services, you're a bold knightress for that honor, Jane." Tom smiled with a nod.

Two of the waitresses return into the dining room, carefully toting an individual bourbon beverage with a set of three red ripen strawberries that float like a batch of red marshmallows on top of the brown liquid. Each waitress stopped and stood, gently resting a beverage in front of Jane and Tom.

Tom turned with a smile and a nod to each waitress, "Thanks, sweethearts."

Each waitress back stepped with a grin and a giggle, staring at the handsome billionaire, swinging around and left the dining room for the food order.

"I want to help the innocent like Perry Mason on television." Jane nodded with a stern face as she defended both her job and her honor like always from a greedy money grabbing soul-less other lawyer.

Tom chuckled. "I'm Perry Mason, too."

Jane turned and giggled at him. "I thought your name was Tom."

"Perry's my middle name, you see. My dad likes legal stuff, too." Tom smiled with a nod and then sipped on the bourbon.

Jane smiled with a nod. "Well, my name is Jane. Since, I didn't properly introduce myself. And thank you for the ride, gathering my working papers and, dinner, Tom Perry."

"I enjoy helping people, also. You seemed like you needed a friend. And your new friend's name is Tom Perry. But I'd rather you call me, Tom, okay, Jane, sweetheart?" Tom smiled with a wink at her.

Jane giggled, "All right, Mr. Tom Perry Mason."

He chuckled at her wit. "So, you work for the HDCF. What happened today, Jane, sweetheart?" He sipped on the tart bourbon with a set of three fresh strawberries inside the mixture, pointing at her alcoholic beverage.

Jane reached and grabbed the cool drink with a sigh. "I work in the domestic violence department."

"Whoa, you like bold gluten for punishment, princess." Tom smiled.

"An innocent child is worth all my time, my energy, my money, my brain cells, and my punishment." Jane exhaled.

"Touché! Proceed Jane, sweetheart." Tom smiled.

"I take children from their abusive parents and place them in a nice Christian family foster home. Once the child is stable, I try to assist the foster family with a permanent adoption." Jane exhaled.

"Less than one percentage point," Tom sipped the bourbon drink.

"I know the odds, Tom Perry Mason." Jane frowned, tapping on the bourbon beverage.

"But you try and try and try, again, right, Jane, sweetheart?" Tom sipped on the bourbon beverage.

She sniffed up the goop of snot back into her nostrils with a nod and a stern face, "Over and over and over, again, until I can personally rescue every abused child in the city of Miami."

"Wow, you're a rock of Gibraltar, too, Jane, sweetheart." Tom smiled.

She turned with a stern face to see him. "You need glasses, Tom Perry Mason. I'm a woman with a purpose."

"Overruled," Tom playfully flirted with a wink at the beautiful and intriguing female.

"Today, like all my previous cases failures in the system, the child has been returned to his biological parent." Jane exhaled.

"Is that bad?" Tom frowned.

The food order arrived in a set of hot and steaming three platters. The three waitresses stopped and stood at the table, lifting and sit the food around Jane and Tom at the same time, where Tom enjoyed eating at Louie's.

Tom exhibited his usual personal rude table manners, not waiting for a polite nod from Jane or providing a formal prayer to God Almighty for his dinner meal. Tom dove both tongue and teeth down into the steak with both hands and a sharp knife, whipping a big bite into a set of parted lips, chewing like a wild animal.

Jane scooted both elbows to the side, allowing the waitress to place a heated plate in front of her jacket, staring down at the food plate. "Normally, the parents are rehabbed by the state counseling service for their poor behavior and repetitive pattern. Then, the returned child is in good hands. A social worker checks up on them twice a week for a month. If there's another tragic incident, I get involved."

"The system does work." Tom lifted and crammed a buttered roll into an open mouth, chewing.

Jane exhaled. "Most of the time but today..."

"Today?" Tom ripped away the steak meat with the sharp knife.

"Conner, a four-year-old little boy was cut and beat, when he was delivered to the police by the neighbors. The little tike broke my heart." Jane exhaled and held back the sobs and the tears from the nice guest and the nice meal.

"The asshole father needs his hands broken." Tom sneered.

"From your lips to God's ears..."

Tom chuckled. "You don't object to violence, Jane, that's against the law both God's and Miami's." He liked her great idea against permanent assholes that harmed innocent kids.

"I was raised in north Florida on the Gulf of Mexico. You take what you need, only what you need, leaving the rest for others. I believe and practice God Almighty's ultimate laws." She stared at the food without eating.

"I believe you, Jane, sweetheart." Tom lifted and chewed the steak.

"I talked with the boy. He didn't want to go back to his biological mom with the mean boyfriend." She stared at the food plate with her sad thoughts.

"Can't the..."

"No, Tom." She turned and frowned at Tom. "The State of Florida law is very clear. The biological mother has the right to her child, no matter the past, present or future consequences of the child."

"Bullshit." Tom mouth spat the food particles over his plate, the tablecloth and his hands.

"Horse shit with big black flies lounging in the paddy." Jane exhaled with a nod.

Tom laughed. "Good analogy, I might use that one day."

She stared with a stern face at Tom. "Be my guest. Conner has been sent home, this afternoon. I'm so worried, Tom. That's the reason for my inappropriate display after spilling all my working papers on the courthouse lobby floor. He was my last case for the evening. I had a great case against the boyfriend, not the mother. I had the arrest record, the police records, and the hospital records. However, the judge ruled in favor of his mother, not Conner. I'm devastated with loss, grieve and pity and worry."

He chewed and swallowed the food. "Jane, sweetheart, you've done everything that you can do for Conner. You're not Almighty God." Tom exhaled.

"I wish I was today." Jane reached and grabbed the fork, stabbing into the juicy steak, feeling defeated and useless.

"Why's that, Jane?" Tom finished the steak, working all finger pads on a juicy lobster tail.

"They..." she reached and grabbed, drinking the tart bourbon beverage. She inhaled and exhaled from the bitter taste, clearing a tight throat. "You're right. I have to let God Almighty handle it now." Jane turned with a sad face and a set of tears to face the wall as the hot tears swiftly flowed down her two chapped cheekbones.

Tom rested the lobster tail down, wiping both his hands on the cloth baby bid around his neck, reaching and gently touched her collar bone with a worried brow. "Jane, sweetheart, what's wrong? What's going to happen to Conner? What'll happen to Conner?"

"They...they are evil people, Tom." Jane said to the wall as her tears rolled down the two cheekbones, the lips and then finally hit her jacket and some on the table cloth.

"Evil as in Satan worshippers," Tom frowned.

"That's too mild." Jane whispered.

"Jane, Jane, what do you mean too mild? I'm getting sweaty palms and sick to my stomach." Tom worried. Jane lifted the napkin, wiping off the tears from two eyelashes and the snot from two nose holes. He leaned into her collar bone with a worried whisper. "Tell me, please, Jane, sweetheart?"

"Hurt him! Hurt him like before." Jane whispered.

"Hurt?" Tom gasped.

"Bruises, cuts, punches," she exhaled with more tears into the cloth napkin.

"Jane, sweetheart?" Tom exhaled with fear.

"They'll kill him this time, Tom. I knew it. I feel it in my guts..."

"A tiny kid?" Tom shook his bangs as she nodded without seeing his face. Tom watched her body language with an angry face, "Hell, no, hell, gawd damn no, not on my fucking shift." He reached and pulled out a big oversized mobile telephone from his briefcase, dialing on the devise with a stern face, "Address?"

"What?" Jane turned and frowned at the new expensive mobile telephone gadget between his fingers.

"Conner's address," Tom lifted the mobile telephone to his face.

"190859, southwest, 56th Street..."

"190859, southwest, 56th Street, code choo-choo train," Tom smiled on the telephone, jerking it from a face, placing the big mobile phone back inside his briefcase and turned, lifting the lobster tail with both hands, fishing for the tender white meat with a pink tongue.

"What, what did you do, Tom?" Jane gasped with worry.

"I called the Calvary. Don't worry your pretty head about it." Tom chewed the sweet meat with a grin and a nod of his good deed for the night.

"Tom, I'll get into trouble. I'll get arrested. You'd get arrested. Gawd, Conner'll get killed," Jane lifted and waved both her curls and her hands with more worry at Tom's silly behavior and Conner's precious life.

Tom dropped the lobster and grabbed one of her waving arms with a smile. "Jane, sweetheart, calm down, I have connections. I called some police types to watch, only watch, Conner's house for any odd sightings."

"Watch?" Jane exhaled.

"Think of it like a stake out that detectives do to catch a thief." Tom turned and grabbed, lifting the lobster, sucking down the sweet white meat with a set of parted lips.

"Catch a thief, Tom?" Jane said with confusion.

He chewed and swallowed, turning with a smile. "I'm a lawyer, not law enforcement officer. Stu'd known the proper police slang." He leaned down and sucked out the lobster tail meat with a set of parted lips like a wild animal.

"So, your friends are watching Conner's residential home and if something happens?" Jane frowned.

"My friends are certified as law enforcement, also. They have guns and brains. They'll call the real police file a big messy complaint against the members of the household. Don't sweat it! Conner's going to be safe, Jane, sweetheart, I promise, cross my heart, and hope to die." He chuckled and chewed the lobster meat.

"Really," Jane exhaled.

He turned with a sad face to see Jane. "You hope that I die."

She waved her curls and her arms with a smile. "Of course not, silly, you are the only person that I know who really wants to help, Conner. I want you to be safe and hope you have a happy and fulfilling long, long life, Tom. Thank you, so much." Jane exhaled with a smile.

He chewed and swallowed, turning to stare with a nod and a smile at her. "Jane, sweetheart, I don't lie about protecting people, especially children, elderly, and animals. If my damn QA guards screw up, I'll kick their ass. Then I will personally defend Conner with my entire legal staff." Tom nodded with a grin.

"You're so kind to help Conner." Jane nodded with a smile, feeling better knowing. Conner had some people spying on him for his personal safety.

"Conner? I'm helping you, Jane, sweetheart. You're the real heroine and victim here. You're doing damn shitty ass work that no one wants to do." He leaned down and sucked on the lobster meat.

"Damn straight and pride of it too!" Jane smiled with a nod.

He chewed and swallowed the food, turning with a wink and a smile to see her. "That's my girl."

"I just keep losing the battles." Jane exhaled with a stern face.

"You will not lose anymore, sweetheart! I just got educated. I'm going to help you and the HDCF." Tom winked with a smile.

"Tom, you're a real South Florida gentleman. I'm very appreciative of your resources and your manners with me, tonight. But you can't take on the entire State of Florida and the governor's office," she exhaled.

He wiped both dirty hands on the napkin, "Hell, I can, too. The governor is a friend of mine. And if the bastard wants to win re-election next year, then he'll help you. Or he'll be out of a gawd damn public servant job. I ain't tolerating this shit anymore, since I've heard your real sad story. You're a real fighter and an advocate for the innocent like Perry Mason." He reached and gently touched her sleeve with great care and caution with a hand, since he did not want to insult or incite Jane, because he greatly liked her purpose, her drive, and her perfume.

"Conner is only one child among hundreds, maybe thousands in the State of Florida." Jane smiled.

"Then it's a damn lucky thing that we are strong, healthy, and young. Isn't it, Jane, sweetheart?" Tom winked at her with a bright smile on his face.

"We're strong, healthy, and young to fight evil for the rest of our days and nights, Tom." Jane smiled.

"Damn right and pride of it! Besides, I got family and allies all over the damn planet to help us, fight evil and win for right." Tom grinned.

"I really do believe you, Tom." Jane reached and gently touched his suit sleeve with a hand and a smile. Then Tom reached and grabbed her hand, lifting and kissing her naked knuckles like a South Florida gentleman.

They finished dinner.

They left the restaurant as Tom drove her back home inside the limousine towards South Miami.

He watched and waited impatiently to visit her again, after getting her verbal permission on the front step of her house's porch for a lunch date, the next day.

The next new bright sunny morning, Tom had wonderful news for Jane. Something almost bad didn't happen to Conner, since Tom's legal and lawful QA guards had interfered in Conner's upcoming black and blue beating.

Conner had immediately been placed by HDCF with the original foster parents in a permanent home. The boyfriend dies, and the mother is sentenced to jail.

Jane was relieved, sad, happy, and impressed with Thomas Edison Sawyer, III. Once, she figured out who he really was one of the billionaire Quartet members.

Tom was happier and more impressed with Miss Jane Seymour, who was a single beautiful and intelligent attorney for the State of Florida.

At lunch, Sawyer offered her a job at his firm Quartet Associates with a big fat salary plus great benefits along with quarterly money bonuses, and the chance to start a state-wide campaign to fight for children's rights in the State of Florida.

Jane immediately refused wanting to continue to help the innocent, truly stating her intentions to Tom last night at the restaurant within her heart and her soul. The money didn't matter. Her purpose was more important to aid innocent abused children, since at a big firm like Quartet Associates, Jane would get lost or worse converted into the luxury of a lush office, thick carpet, expensive furniture, and original artwork.

Jane didn't want the show or the glamour, since she had a very good job, earning her a nice salary with a little house and a paid off car. And she had accepted the hard work for the justice of children, wanting to make a difference in their little tiny lives, if only one child at time.

Tom was not upset with Jane about a wise decision, since he was tickled and pleased as strawberry fruit flavored sweet punch with her honest decision to reject a prime offer and a one-million-dollar expense account. So pleased, that Tom gave the future Mrs. Thomas Edison Sawyer an eight carat flawless diamond engagement ring the next evening, while they together dined at Louie's with his second date and their second encounter.

Tom instantly fell in love with Jane as Cupid released and stung his butthole with a pointy arrow like inside one of his fantasy novels that he liked to read for entertainment. He admired her beauty, brains, and boldness to help others, not to bowl over a billionaire.

Jane loved Tom who had displayed a selfless care and understanding to strangers, to her, to Conner, and to her life time purpose while aiding children without fuss, boss, or pretense. And it didn't hurt that Tom was handsome, smart, funny, rich, and above all a South Florida gentleman.

The Quartet Wedding was planned and executed in the pretty springtime behind Stu's and Frank's.

Present day and place

City of Coral Gables

Police station

Interrogation room setting

9:04 a.m.

Jane quietly sat inside the plastic red chair while observing the young adult female. The female strutted with a girly attitude through the single doorway with a head of dirty blonde hair and a pair of green eyes on an athletic body that came from exercising, maybe foot running. She wore the traditional and issued bright neon orange colored prison one-piece jumpsuit, proclaiming a prisoner of the Coral Gable police department. Jane stood upright from the chair and leaned over, extending a hand over the hard surface with a smile, "I'm Jane Sawyer."

The female stopped and stood on the other side at the conference table, appearing excited and worried without shaking the pre-offered hand with a puzzled brow, "Sawyer, Thomas Edison, the third's wife?"

"You are both observation and correct. I am your legal lawyer," Jane sat back down in the plastic chair with a nod and a smile, staring at her new client. The female was not going to trust anyone, not even Jane that meant she was innocent.

Coral Gables Police department

Observation room setting

9:05 a.m.

They lounged inside an individual oversized different colored ratty lounge chair in the middle floor of the floor behind a mirrored wall. The wall was a two-sided non-reflective mirror. Stu, Tom, and Frank sipped a cold or a hot beverage while chewing on a tray of soft Cuban pastries, arguing and debating an array of useless subject matters, waiting on the jailed murderess of Austin's former flames.

The murderess would emerge from her protective jail cell for a private legal session with her lawyer, since Austin was presently flying inside a QA jet into Ruby Beach, arranging the grave funerals of both Kattleen Kattrell and Athena.

"Austin offers guidance, insight, wisdom, inspiration, or whatever works for the moment. That's the different between a leader and a follower, Stuart." Tom smiled at the nose profile on Stu, wearing a navy blue business suit with a dark green and black bowtie with a white dress shirt. The cuff links showed a set of emerald gem stones. "He will help you no matter your creed or your code. He is someone that you can trust to give you a straight answer and good, solid advice."

"Hero worship methinks," Stu sat inside the ratty chair with a smile and an ankle crossed over a knee as his laptop was anchored over the leg like a typewriter for his fun entertainment, listening to Tom with amusingly interest. He wore a beige colored business suit with an aqua colored shirt and a matching aquamarine gemstone at the throat. The aqua colored represented his happy mood of finding the murderer of Austin's former flames.

"Bad neurons inside Tom's shallow skull, I diagnose being a certified and legally trained physician." Frank smiled, finding Tom's mind to be mentally unstable, sometimes. And today was one of those days, especially since Austin was not around to babysit Sawyer. He wore a pair of tan colored trousers with a maroon sports jacket, a pink colored dress shirt with a very loud purple, pink, orange, yellow necktie made of triangles.

"I didn't know the brain matter could survive with bad neurons." Stu happily typed on the laptop with a smile.

Frank held the cup of hot black tinted English tea next to a pair of moving lips. "Neurons are electrically excitable cells inside a human body's nervous system while trying to process Tom's eyeball visual information that communicates directly into the five classical human senses of touch, taste, sight, smell, and sound. The human sense bombards into Tom's tiny gray matter, shooting straight down a sexy curvy spinal cord down into the other peripheral nerve endings. The body's interaction from tons of gun loaded brain neurons are regulating Tom's visual perception of the world like what's going on within his body, thus regulating his teen-ass boyish behavior. The complex senses are called nociception."

"The sense of pain," Tom lifted and tapped on his mobile telephone, looking with a stern face at the medical word.

Stu leaned over and pinched the flat chest through the dress shirt on Tom with a stern face.

Tom jerked back from the hand attack with a sour frown and a yell. "Ouch, that hurt, Big Man."

"Nociception works." Stu jerked back with a smile and a nod, wigging an ass inside the soft ratty chair after he head tested the medical theory of Frank.

"And equilibrioception," Frank sipped the tea.

"Equilibrioception?" Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Frank with the ugly medical tern.

Tom lifted and tapped on his mobile telephone, looking with a stern face at the new medical word, "The sense of gravity."

"Gravity?" Stu nodded.

Frank turned and chuckled to Stu. "Hold him up..."

"...by his neck," Stu nodded with a smile.

"No! You should hold him up by his leg. That's a better test, Stu." Frank nodded with a smile.

"I'm calling Austin." Tom stood upright from the ratty chair with a sour frown, dialing a familiar telephone number to connect to the borrowed mobile telephone of Stu, since Austin did not carry a mobile telephone and used Stu's device for any emergency. Frank leaned over and stole the mobile telephone from the hands on Tom. Tom turned and shook his bangs and his arms at Frank with a sour frown and a tone of matching fury. "Give it back, Money Man!"

"What are you doing, Stuart?" Frank shook a skull at Tom and shoved the mobile phone into a breast pocket with a sour frown.

Tom frowned and cursed at Frank. Stu would never ever surrender his personal mobile telephone to Tom, even if Sawyer cried like a baby. So, Tom had to use the police station landline telephone to call and tattle with Austin, but his older brother would understand the brotherly problem. He turned and marched to the side table with a smile and a nod.

Stu typed on the laptop without looking at the wiggling ass on Tom. "Do not think about using that landline or calling Austin, asshole."

"I'm my own man." Tom stopped and stood, staring with a sad face at the old fashioned black colored telephone on top of the ancient looking table.

"Sit, pup!" Stu sneered.

Tom back stepped from the table, and turned backward with a giggle, slamming an ass back into a soft cushion. Stu happily typed on the laptop. "I'm looking up the other complex senses of the central nervous system called proprioception."

Frank nodded with a smile to the window. "Ah, the sensing of a baby brother's limb location and motion when touching a nose with closed eyes with one or two fingers tips."

"Exactly," Tom stood from the chair, tilting back a skull, placing a clumsy right index finger in the air and held it over a nose bridge with a chuckle.

"Did you know inhibition of these biological senses will retard a human's basic motor skills?" Frank smiled at the mirror.

"My motor skills ain't retarded." Tom touched his nose with the other finger, tilting a skull in the backward pose with a chuckle.

"You can't touch your nose with a steady finger with your eyes closed while sober, bro. You shouldn't drink your bourbon during office hours, Thomas." Stu looked up with a stern face to see Tom and then the two-way mirror.

"Retarded," Frank stared at the two-way mirror inside the police interrogation room.

"The physician has a point." Stu smiled at the two-way mirror.

"Shut up, Stu!" Tom rotated with a finger, touching his nose with a giggle.

"Is that why Tom can't shoot his Ghost straight like an arrow, Frank?" Stu stared with a stern face at the two-way mirror inside the police interrogation room.

Frank nodded at the mirror with a stern face. "Might be, I would require more investigative body testing. I'll involve Jace this time in my research."

Tom dropped a face down from the ceiling, staring at the mirror with an open mouth "Holy fucking shit! What in fuck is...?"

"You need to clean your ears, bro. She introduced herself as the murderess' new lawyer." Stu exhaled with worry.

Gage loved his wife Gracie, since she and he were alike in personality and purpose, mostly because Gracie respected Stu and Stu respected Gracie, telling each other plans, sharing secrets, and working, together while making their marriage a success.

Janey was a true horse of a different color, since she was fiercely independent and ipso facto. And she had to be to get and gain the loose set of horse reins on an out of control wild-ass Sawyer, the third, since Tom needed a firm hand on his expensive ostrich leather reins.

Janey was the girl to tame him, in turn, Tom allowed Janey total solo control over many executive decisions within their shared household which Tom didn't want to do or care to do or forgot to do. Hence, Janey had created the first female head of household without children but with a husband.

Gage admired Janey's grit and gravel rough and tough disposition, so he was not really surprised when Tom had casually mentioned yesterday at dinner time during a friendly competitive billiard game at his house about Jane's disposition on the new murderess of Austin's former flames.

Janey believed that the female was innocent, needing an awesome criminal lawyer. Janey would painfully twist the right arm on Tom doing it while Austin would kick the skinny ass on Tom into not doing it.

Austin was the boss for the Quartet. He set the standard of the business-at-his-hand which meant that the girl was absolutely guilty.

Therefore, Janey had decided with her own mind and her own talented resources to defend a guilty girl.

However, Stu maintained peace in the Quartet and would see that peace was maintained for all brothers and little smart-ass Quartet sisters, too.

Tom stomped his new leathers up and down into the ratty carpet with a sour frown, seeing Janey inside the same room with the murderess. "Holy fucking shit! What in the fuck is...?"

"Shut up, Tom! I can't hear the conversation." Frank stared at the two-way mirror with a puzzled brow of fury. Janey was sitting inside the same room at the same table with the murderess of Austin's former flames.

Frank softly sneered at the mental thought of Janey defending the guilty pilot where Austin was going to have a shit-fit and might beat something. Frank would have to talk to Stu and ensure that Berrington did not take his fighting fury out on their baby brother.

Tom could not control Janey. Their entire marriage was directed, guided, and ran by a woman.

Frank exhaled. His wife Misty would never do a silly single nonsense act within their happy marriage. However, Mrs. Mangrove didn't possess a law degree and was not a former attorney for HDCF, one of the toughest hard working US Federal government agencies in the USA.

You had to possess a set of steel nerves, an iron heart, and two blind eyeballs dealing with battered and abused children who had been assaulted by a set of asshole guardians. Janey was and would continue to perform as a heartless robot, prosecuting the guardians of defenseless innocent kids. Her Quartet Charity Foundation was the largest in the State of Florida which didn't get that way by picking a hand full of fresh yellow daisies by the Florida roadside.

Austin and the police believed the girl guilty. And Janey was the new defense attorney for the guilty girl. Yes, without a doubt, a pile of fresh green horse shit was going to hit the fan, tonight.

Frank turned and frowned at Stu.

Gage turned and nodded to Frank in silence acknowledgement. Big Man contemplated the same mental concepts, turning with a stern face to see Janey and the murderess through the secret and observant two-way reflection mirror inside the police interrogation room, "That's point of spying baby bro to learn the truth and lies that she tells her lawyer."

Interrogation room

9:07 a.m.

"Lawyer?" Zara stood in front of the table with a sour frown.

Jane sat with a smile and a nod, "I'm very good and very smart and I believe you."

"Why?" Zara crossed her arms with a sour frown at Jane.

"This line of questioning isn't very nice and not very professional for your case."

"Why?" Zara frowned.

"I believe you, Miss Zenith." Jane nodded.

"Why?" Zara frowned.

"I want to be rich and infamous." Jane smiled.

"Fine," Zara moved and pulled out the chair, loudly scraping the metal foot pads over the floor, sitting and stared with a stern face at Jane, her new attorney.

"Excellent, let's move on to the next step. Your police file reads that your name's Zara Zeta Zenith." Jane tapped on the paper folder that she received from the police officer.

"Mouth fill, I know." Zara smiled.

"Your call sign is Zara which is spelled out as Z.a.r.a."

"Yes." Zara nodded a blonde ponytail.

"Is that a Greek alphabet?"

"More like a Greek goddess," Zara giggled.

Observation room

9:08 a.m.

Frank turned and frowned at the nose profiles of his two brothers, "Greek goddess!"

Stu frowned at the two-way mirror, "What arrogance?"

Frank turned and frowned at the two-way mirror, "Noted."

Tom frowned at the two-way mirror, "Blonde fucking goddess with a slap-me-bitch attitude. Don't like her."

Stu frowned. "Join the club."

Frank said. "She sounds like a bitchy southern blonde goddess. Do I hear a slight accent from her lips?"

Stu said, "LA."

Frank frowned. "California, her speech doesn't sound like it comes from Los Angeles."

Stu imitated in a poor musical tone, pointing toward the ceiling but really referencing another part of the US, "Panhandle, up there, her southern accent is referred as Lower Alabama. Lots of body transplants from the State of Alabama rather than real native Floridians down here."

Tom frowned at the two-way mirror. "How the hell do you know that, Gage?"

Stu said to the two-way mirror. "Reading, Tom, I read and talk to people."

Tom smiled. "I read."

Stu laughed. "Science fiction crap don't count, Thomas."

Tom frowned. "It's not crap."

Frank said. "How is your first and fake pretend and make-believe science fiction novel progressing, Tom?"

Tom stared at the two-way mirror with a stern face, "Stalled."

Frank chuckled at the two-way mirror. "Why?"

Stu chuckled at the two-way mirror too, "Reader's block."

Tom turned and sneered at the nose profile on Gage. "It's called writer's block, asswipe."

Stu stared at the two-way mirror with a chuckle, "That, too." Frank chuckled with amusement at his two brothers.

Tom turned and hissed at Big Man and as his eyeballs turned and observed Jane and the bitch-killer of all of Austin's former flames. They conversed inside the police interrogation room with a worried brow in silence.

Frank chuckled, "Thomas has accurately articulated the letter S from his Sunday school lessons about Satan..."

"Shut the fuck up, Frank," Tom stared and sneered at the two-way mirror.

"Shut the fuck up both Franklin and Thomas. I can't hear the dead body thread discussion." Stu exhaled and stared at the two-way mirror with concern.

Interrogation room

9:09 a.m.

"I need more datum." Jane leaned over and jolted down the verbal notes inside the paper notebook with the number two pencil.

"Zara Zeta Zenith, five feet, six inches, natural dirty blonde shoulder length hair, green eyes, and in jail for first degree murder."

"You're a pilot?" Jane looked up with a smile to see Zara.

"Damn good pilot." Zara smiled.

"Usual for a female," Jane nodded with a smile.

"Females can do anything they want, but you're right, .my field's dominated by men." Zara explains.

"Where did you learn to flight?"

"The city of Pensacola, my dad was a military elite jet fighter." Zara nodded with a smile.

Observation room

9:10 a.m.

Stu clapped with a smile and a nod, "Hot damn! Her dad's a US military fighter pilot."

Tom sneered. "Shut the fuck up, Stu!"

Stu nodded with a smile. "I like her already."

Tom growled. "I thought you hated her."

Stu smiled. "Circumstances change."

Frank snarled. "Shh, listen."

Interrogation room

9:11 a.m.

"Why didn't you go into the military flying and fighting with jets?" Jane looked down with a stern face, jotting all the verbal notes inside the notebook with a number two pencil.

"Too brutal and bias, my dad saw the inside of the military life. He wanted me, not to see it or experience it." Zara said.

"So you become a pilot?"

"I have very special skills that my dad saw." Zara nodded.

"Your mom?"

"Dead, brain tumor." Zara exhaled.

"I'm sorry." Jane looked up with a sad face and a nod.

"Thanks!"

"Your dad lives alone?" Jane asks.

"He's dead, also."

"I'm very sorry, Zara." Jane frowned.

"Once a pilot, always a pilot, he died in the Afghan war flying a jet fighter, his passion." Zara said.

"You sound jealous?"

"No really, I was older and had my license, working and flying. Then I moved after the announcement of his death, too much baggage. I selected Ruby Beach."

"Why?" Jane frowned, sniffing out the real truth from the false lies.

"Nice quiet beach town."

"Why?"

"Good salary. Nice people. First offer."

"Okay, your training's elaborate."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know how smart you are." Jane looked up with a smile to see Zara.

"Why?"

Jane chuckled. "You are not a typical police officer, showing a rude and obnoxious person to the John Q. Public, but you do have an ego and an attitude that would sink the Titanic, all over again."

"Maybe."

Jane laughed with a nod. "Hell, I thought Tom had an ego. Sweetheart, you take the cake and eat it all at once."

"Maybe."

"Your training is elaborate. Tell me more?" Jane said.

"I flew a jet fighter simulator, when my dad practiced on the military base. He was allowed to bring me. My dad recognized a natural talent. I learned to pilot a small air craft at age sixteen and flew around Pensacola, mostly. Then I would fly my mom to the city of Atlanta, Georgia for medical treatment. Good practice, good experience, it helps when you follow your dad's line of work."

"Brothers, sisters?" Jane inquired.

"Only child."

"Any more background you want to share with me," Jane said.

"No."

Jane exhaled with a puff of concern, "Looky, Zara, I'm your lawyer. I need to know everything, regarding your family, your education, your work, your hobbies, your social life, your sex life. Does that clarify my inquiry?"

"Parents dead. High School diploma. Pilot grade one license. Karate and reading. Single and available. Don't drink. Don't smoke. Virgin."

"Thanks." Jane nodded and dropped a face, jotting all the verbal notes inside the paper notebook.

Observation room

9:12 a.m.

"Virgin?" Frank frowned.

"Tell Austin." Tom chuckled.

"Tell Austin what?" Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"Gawd, the man wants to shoot her, not fuck her." Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom too.

"Maybe, he should fuck her first. She's not ugly then shot her second." Stu chuckled.

"Shut the fuck up, Stu!" Frank frowned.

"You're sick, man, Big Man. You're sick." Tom chuckled at the two-way mirror.

"Just ideas." Stu frowned.

"Sick fucking ideas." Tom smiled.

"Listen to Jane." Frank turned and frowned at the two-way mirror.

"This is the good stuff." Stu turned and nodded at the two-way mirror.

Interrogation room

9:13 a.m.

Jane asked with a stern face and a nod. "How did you track the data on the dead girls?"

"I used the computer to track data on the dead girls." Zara said.

"Why?"

"I wanted to help." She smiled.

"No, no, no, think?"

"The data was fresh in my mind. I linked the girl with the other dead girl using the hospital computer." She smiled.

"Good."

"Why's that good?" Zara frowned.

"The hospital computer has blood and tissue results. The reports are the same for every case for every girl."

"The police didn't notice it or ignored it." Zara nodded.

"Why?"

"I do not know why." Zara frowned.

"Yes, you do, think?"

"The girls were drunk, fucked, and made merry." Zara smiled.

"Great answers."

"My great answers make Berrington appear as a pimp." Zara chuckled.

"He is." Jane chuckled with Zara.

Observation room

9:14 a.m.

"Gawd, I'm glad Austin is not here." Frank frowned.

"Yeah, he'd shit a brick on me." Tom frowned.

"Janey's skating on the edge, Tom." Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"Jane can hold her own. If Austin thinks he can push her around, he's in for a very unpleasant surprise." Tom nodded with a smile at his girl.

"Really," Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"Hell, yeah, I didn't marry her, because she was first runner up as Miss Florida." Tom nodded with a smile.

"She was?" Stu frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

"Yeah, she was. I married the girl, because she's got neurons, lots and lots of neurons." Tom smiled at Jane through the two-way mirror.

"Like me." Frank smiled.

"Hell, no, asswipe! Not like you, like me, her husband, her lover, her pumpkin butt," Tom smiled.

"Gawd! Don't get perverted over there, Tom! I might vomit." Frank coughed and then chuckled.

"Fine! Keep all damn nasty shitty personal comments within your brain cells about my loving and devoted wife." Tom stared with a sour frown at the two-way mirror.

Interrogation room

9:15 a.m.

"If you say so..."

"I say so, sweetheart." Jane smiled.

"You're Austin's sister, family member, or relative, right?"

"I am." Jane nodded with a smile.

"I don't understand. Why are you helping if you're his...?"

"...sister," Jane smiled. "Austin's wrong. He's mad. He's angry. And he wants justification, not justice. Your private dick skills got you caught with your pink panties down, sweetheart."

"I was helping the police."

"You're fucked with the police detectives and the DA lawyers, if I can't convince a jury that you are just helping." Jane exhaled, jotting down more verbal notes on her paper notepad with the number two pencil.

Zara gasped. "I didn't kill the women."

"Who did it? Do you have a theory?" Jane looked up with a nod to see Zara.

Zara exhaled in silence.

Observation room

9:17 a.m.

Stu, Tom, and Frank instinctively leaned a torso toward an enclosed secured secretive isolated two-way mirror while illegal ease dropping with a set of neurons and eardrums on the private word of murderess Zara.

Interrogation room

9:18 a.m.

"Some one that is very close to Berrington. Someone he's hurt." Zara nodded.

Jane laughed with a smile. "Gawd, get in line. My brother's a lover, not a fighter. Girls drop like a nest of black flies into the golden honey for a night with him. I don't think they feel hurt after the rejection baritone note, the next morning. Actually, they might expect the demi-god to..."

"Some person did. Some person, he knows personally. Some person is too close to his person. I'd guess, maybe for years." Zara nodded with a smile.

"Why?" Jane gasped.

"New girls are killed, not old lovers."

"Austin doesn't have old lovers."

"Katt's new. He fucked her. Athena's new, too."

"Right, the killer knew them, how?" Jane frowned.

"Read the paper. Read the latest unofficial autobiographer on Austin. I learned about Austin's predictable dating habits. It's all there." Zara nodded with a stern face.

"No! Gimme some more!" Jane shook her red curls, seeking more information from a smart Zara.

"People read the trash magazines. Then they watch and wait to see the latest eye candy Austin brings to his fancy balls."

"I believe more to the point that the true killer knew the girls' patterns and places and routines to a science kinda like you." Jane nodded.

"I'm not a trained police officer. Or maybe, I'm a stalker." Zara laughed.

"You're a trained analytical detailed scientific investigator, who got too nosy without police skills. Hell, you're a pilot, not a detective. How did you trace Athena?"

"I was there when the call came in. I flew the copter to her beach house. I saw the body. I saw her place. I saw the lack of struggle." Zara nodded.

"Lack of struggle, specific that statement?" Jane frowned.

"The beach house was neat, tidy, and clean. No blood, no fight, no mess, no fingerprints. No foot prints either like someone cleaned up before the dead event," Zara frowned.

"Did you see the position of the body?" Jane looked down with a stern face, jotting down all the verbal notes on paper.

"No. I had to log the address and time into the computer on the bird. Then I went in."

Jane looked up with a gasp. "You're allowed to enter a police crime scene?"

"As long as I don't interfere or touch anything."

"So what happened to Athena?"

"I don't have a clue, Jane."

"Ah! But you have a theory about the dead girls, the lack of struggle. You have absorbed way too much data that existed in the victim's home." Jane nodded with a smile.

"I think you're not saying, being ignored by the FBI." Zara grinned.

"You're a gifted pilot, Zara. Spill it, sweetheart?" Jane leaned back into the chair, sitting the pencil on top of the notepad, crossing her arms.

Zara exhaled with a nod. "My theory, the weapon is a food or a beverage item or maybe both."

"Ingested?"

"Or injected?"

Zara exhaled. "The dead girl drank something that could have been relieved from a bio system later. Since, there wasn't a trace of any type of the poison or toxic substance inside her dead biological body, lacking the hard physical or in this case, the chemical evidence, so I heard."

"What substance? What is it?"

"You're not going to believe me."

"Try me, I'm your attorney." Jane nodded.

"Potassium overdose." Zara nodded. "These fitness drinks have potassium in high doses. If consumed directly into the body, it's poison. The body will pee it out and leave a tiny trace within the organs, but if it is absorbed within the bio system then death. All the lab reports clearly showed a significant increase in the white blood cells along with no maxed out level of the mineral potassium, not out of normal range, but slightly within the same tiny cluster of math numbers. I was told when inquired that mineral exists inside the body and fluctuates by factors of diet, exercise, heredity."

Jane asked, "How?"

"You can't smell, taste, or distinguish potassium from a yellow sugary kiddie drink mixture."

"How?"

"I read okay. I do research at the library on the internet. I was intrigued with the odd deaths of the girls. I..."

"You guessed good, lady." Jane smiled.

"Potassium can be mixed with alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, and birth control pills inside the victim's chemical body. These aren't going to affect an extra dosage of any additional vitamin supplement within a biological healthy body."

"The fifty-thousand-dollar question, how did you select potassium out of all the natural minerals within the body?"

Zara smiled, "The bodies."

"Bodies?" Jane frowned.

"Each girl was posed as if the true killer wanted to photograph them for his trophy. Photograph chemical agents all use a type of potassium compound for developing the film's dull yellow negatives. They died by ingesting a substance into their bio-system." Zara nodded her ponytail with a smirk.

"Excellent theory, girlfriend," Jane smiled with a clap for defending Zara inside a court of law without a set of hard evidence of a working theory.

Observation room

9:31 a.m.

Tom pitched the empty paper coffee cup on the floor with a yell. "Damn, the bitch-killer's leading my wife down the dark side of hell. Fuck, I'm going to have to jump into the fire and save Mrs. Sawyer's beautiful butt, before she's becomes a spawnling devilette. I'll find some US supreme court law that requires Jane to be dismissed, subtlety and secretly, of course. Then I'll take her and me to the beautifully country of New Zealand again for all her hard work and sacrifice," smiling.

Stu leaped from the ratty chair, shaking a bald skull and both hands, pointing at Jane. "No dark side, Tom, Jane sees the light too. Her working theory is excellent. Shit, Zenith just proved her own innocence."

Frank turned and sneered at Gage, pointing at the two-way mirror. "The bitch-killer is guilty, Stu. Gawd, she made it all up. She's playing Janey to the golden ruby red jeweled hilt, because she's married to a billionaire, the Quartet, the bad asses of the..."

"Hell, no, Frank, you're wrong. Her theory is fact. Fact one, she's a trained police officer. Fact two, she did her homework using the internet. Fact three, she has documented the abnormal crime lab's medical reports. The Feds missed all this legal footwork that Zenith did for them free of charge."

Frank shook his red hairy skull. "You're not a lawyer, Stu. Tom's right. The guilty bitch-killer is using Janey and her unlimited resources..."

"Money," Tom exhaled.

"And more," Frank exhaled.

Stu shook a bald skull with a sour frown. "I saw the photos, Frank, along with you. The bodies are posed for pictures. The real murderer, not Zenith is a serial killer with a creative stamp mark denoted by an object in the hand while posing for a picture."

"That's stupid, Stu. I saw the entire stack of girls. It's a clever showy image. That's all. You're reading too much into this girl's bad fairy tale." Frank exhaled.

"Explain her working theory about a potassium compound, used by photographers after photo shoots for developing the colored pics, Frank. That's a stated fact, no fiction bro." Stu jabbed a finger at Frank.

Frank exhaled. "She's guessing. I admit some highly educated guessing but hypostasizing an apple rotten theory. She's going to die in Tallahassee. This cold-blooded murder trial's moving quickly, quicker than Kattleen's."

"The Capital wants a hanging." Tom laughed.

"She believes it. I believe it. Janey believes it." Stu jabbed a finger at Janey inside the two-way mirror.

"Leave Jane out of this situation," Tom growled.

Frank stared with a sneer at the nose profile on Tom. "Janey is rusty, out of private law practice for six years. She only wants to help people, in this case an insensitive con woman..."

"I'm taking care of that tomorrow, Frank. Jane's off this murder case." Tom stared with a stern face at Janey inside the two-way mirror.

Stu jabbed a finger at the nose profile on Tom, "Be careful there, Tom! Your wife doesn't take kindly to dictatorships."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Tom whispered, since Jane was the head of the household but only he knew that.

Frank growled at the nose profile on Sawyer. "Tom, you need to put Janey in her place."

Stu smiled, "Which place is that, Franklin?"

Frank exhaled, "Her place as your mate, your loving spouse, and your partner, Janey should be home making arrangement for our Birthday Bash with both Gracie and Misty and not here, pretending to be a lawyer."

Tom turned and snarled at Frank. "Whoa, there, man! Watch how you address my wife? I'm going to pull my Ghost and shoot your toes. That's a fucking ass warning, Mangrove."

Stu lifted and waved an arm with a smile and a nod, "Right on, Tom! Tell the truth to 'Mr. Smart Ass Physician.' Frank, you sided with Katt, the first day of her discovery. Why can't you see that Zenith's the victim here also? She didn't commit the murders of Austin's girlfriends."

Frank exhaled. "I based my judgment on information for..."

"Austin, Mouse, Tom, Katt, and a stupid ass dead Clark, Junior," Stu laughed with a nod.

"You were wrong from the get-go about Kattleen, Stu. She was innocent which Tom proved. Tom was right." Frank exhaled.

Stu chuckled. "Once Austin twisted his balls to take the case..."

"Actually, it was Jane that twisted my balls." Tom exhaled.

Stu leaned over and fist-bumped with Tom. "Super good point, Tom! Janey's right. She's a brilliant lawyer and will prove it beyond a shadowy doubt of darkness being illuminated by an asshole brother, which will not be named." Then Stu and Tom laughed.

Frank frowned. "I'll not debate you on that specific topic, Stu. But Janey's over her hair roots on this con job. Tom, do something?"

Stu frowned. "I disagree, Frank. Janey runs the largest Charity Foundation in the USA. She knows what she's doing. She understands and reads people, very well. She wouldn't take the murder case, if she felt differently."

Frank said. "Tom, you can step in anytime."

Tom looked down with a stern face to see his new designer wrist watch with a mumble. "Jane don't take shit either."

Stu smiled with a nod. "If Janey had been born into the Quartet, she would be the head attorney for us, now too."

Frank stared down with a stern face at the hair roots on Tom. "Tom, are you going to comment on that stupid ass remark?"

Tom looked up with a stern face to see the two-way mirror. He watched his wife and that bitch-killer talked as a hidden microphone tattled the secret illegal private conversation. "Don't include me in your philosophical debate, Frank."

"Philosophical? This is a life form of a life and a death matter that Janey's fighting, using her brains, her soul, and her heart, Tom." Stu jabbed a finger at Tom, since smart ass Mangrove was not going to change a closed mind on a legal and social issue, where Tom was flexible and gullible, especially when it came to his wife Janey.

"Read my lips, Frank! As on Tomorrow, Jane is being removed from this criminal murder case. I'll personally see to the matter, myself." Tom decided not to debate the hot subject of his wife, since he loved her more than life. But she could not be the lawyer for this guilty girl. So, Tom would figure something out and get her back home in Coral Beach, working on the Quartet Birthday Bash or even making a baby which would change her stubborn but smart mind.

Stu smiled at the nose profile on Tom. "Zenith is innocent and has a great working theory to prove her innocence. You can't take her off the case, Thomas. Janey's the common denominator in this murder trial for solving this crime and freeing the innocent."

Frank turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom. "Janey is being both used and abused, Tom. Stop this nonsense, before it gets out of hand. Austin is going to be pissed, when he finds out Janey is representing It, but he will be hell bent on fury, if Janey gets suckered punched, embarrassing her and us."

"I ain't letting that happen to my wife. Settle down, Frank!" Tom stared at Jane through the two-way mirror with a stern face.

"She's innocent." Stu turned and exhaled, staring at the two-way mirror.

"She's guilty." Frank turned an exhaled, staring at two-way mirror.

"Enough, pups!" Tom said with a smile, since he liked when he could use Austin's famous reprimand. "We're missing the rest of the secret dialog."

Interrogation room

9:33 a.m.

Jane asked. "Why don't you go to nursing school?"

"My mom was a nurse."

"You must have absorbed medical data through osmosis at home."

"She talked about her work and loved her work and would show me pictures in her textbooks and talk about her sick patients. My mom was smart and told the doctors how to treat the patients."

"I agree with you, Zara. Some nurses are smarter than physicians."

Observation room

9:34 a.m.

Tom chuckled. "Frank, do you have a comment to add there, buddy?"

Frank sneered. "Shut the fuck up, Tom!"

Interrogation room

9:37 a.m.

Jane looked down to read the official documents. "You were trained as paramedic, instead of going to nursing school."

"For my mom, she wanted me to go to nursing school."

"Your dad?"

"My dad wanted a boy, not a girl."

Jane chuckled. "So, what did you become?"

"I got long hair and pink clothes with a nice left hook, if you pissed me off."

Jane chuckled. "Do you attend and graduate in karate classes, also?"

"I have a black belt, ninth degree," Zara nodded with a smile.

Observation room

9:38 a.m.

Stu smiled with a nod at the two-way mirror. "Damn tough!"

Tom exhaled with a sour frown. "She's a girl. They give females all the fabric belts, just to keep the girls from crying." His mind pondered the legal edict to use against Jane tomorrow at the breakfast table, before he ran and filed it inside the Miami courthouse downtown, so she stayed away from that evil bitch-killer.

Stu stared at the two-way mirror with a sour frown. "No, they don't, Thomas."

"Yes, they do." Tom pointed the girl with a sour frown through the two-way mirror, "Look at the little princess, she's what five-six, five-seven, weighing one hundred pounds. Couldn't toss a birthday cake into the wind, Stu?"

Stu smiled with a nod at the two-way mirror. "This innocent babe can be a supermodel with her long hair and legs."

"Did you see her eyes? She's a guilty babe." Frank sneered at the two-way mirror.

"Green as in revenge, Frank," Stu laughed.

"Are you mind-cheating on Gracie, Stu?" Tom laughed.

"Mind cheating, what the hell's that, Tom?" Stu turned and frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

Tom turned and laughed at Stu, "Fucking her with your mind, not your physical body."

"Is that telepathic mind-fucking, Thomas?" Frank turned and smiled at the rear skull on Tom.

Tom turned and hissed at Frank, "No, asswipe."

Stu frowned. "I'm not fucking her with my mind, shit ass. I'm noting that she's a beautiful woman with long legs, a nice ass, and great tits. She carries a black belt and flies a fucking helicopter. You don't meet many innocent babes like her."

Interrogation room

9:35 a.m.

"Touché," Jane smiled.

"I trained hard for the belt, but I don't like blood, especially my blood on the floor."

Jane chuckled. "You're shitting me?"

"I'm not shitting on you, Jane. I vomited when I had to apply a CPR rescue procedure to a smelly shitty Anna doll. I barely passed. I passed because I was a very good pilot, not nurse or police man."

Jane shook her curls in confusion. "I don't understand."

"I can fly fast, high, and on target. I have twenty/fifteen vision and fast reflexes. I can land a bird on top of a ten-foot diameter rock, if need be."

Observation room

9:40 a.m.

"Shit, she's good." Tom nodded with a smile.

"Shit, she's great." Stu smiled with a nod.

"Maybe," Frank frowned. Two-fourths of the Quartet were causing conflicting emotions and chaos within the Band of Brothers with one of the Band of Sisters. Austin was not going to be happy about this entire situation.

Interrogation room

9:41 a.m.

Jane asked, "How?"

Zara said. "I did it in Ruby Beach. That's where I got my reputation, hanging on my very first assignment. A rolled oil rig platform in the Gulf waters fifteen miles out, during a famous damn hurricane warning. The drop zone was exactly ten feet and four inches wide by ten feet and three inches long. I nailed it on the first try. Birds lined up one after another trying to hit that damn spot. Talk about a hitting the bull's eye dead center. I saved fifteen people including the pilots from two flipped copters, that day from death. Without a copter rescue in a storm, the men would have drowned in the Gulf seas."

Jane smiled, "Astounding."

"Thank you, Jane."

Jane smiled, "Well, little lady, you have got my vote and my confidence. I'll get you help. Don't worry? We'll prove your innocence."

"Do I get out?" Zara frowned.

Jane nodded with a smile. "Your bail hearing is today at one sharp. Hell, yeah, I'm getting you out."

"How much?" Zara frowned.

"Don't ask?" Jane looked down with a stern face, jotting more of the verbal notes on the paper notebook with the number two pencil.

"I want to know." Zara exhaled.

"The judge is tough. Sherman Cutter, have you heard of him?"

"Yes, he was the personal judge for that girl who was the angel of death. She had to post a 250-million-dollar bail bond." Zara nodded.

Jane looked up with a smile and a nod. "Yes, and she was accused of killing over 8,000 people. Your count is only five which will be between seven to ten..."

"As in million dollars, I don't have that kind of money, Mrs. Sawyer. I can't pay it."

"Jane, call me, Jane. Don't worry. I'm paying it." Jane reached and collected all her working papers and the pencil from the table, turning and placed the items down into her briefcase with a smile.

"But, Jane?" Zara exhaled.

Jane looked up with a smile to see Zara. "I'm rich. I'm very, very rich. I'm your lawyer. I believe you. You won't run?"

Zara shook a ponytail with a stern face, "No ma'am."

Jane stood and extended a hand with a smile and a nod to her new client, "Please no 'no ma'am' stuff. Gawd, I really hate that word."

"Okay." Zara stood and shook the hand with a smile and a nod.

"Good, we have a legal law deal, Zara." Jane smiled at her new innocent client.

"Deal, Jane! So can I return back to my home?" Zara smiled.

"No, your house, your car, and your home property are evidence for the police and the criminal trial."

Zara exhaled. "Then what's the point of leaving my jail cell? I don't have any money for a hotel room or a car or my own bedroom. I should stay here. I might be safer. I don't think the public likes me much."

Jane held the hand of Zara, reaching with the free hand and patted the forehead on Zara with a smile. "Miamians are fickle like when attending the winning football games, too. So, you can stay with me."

Observation room

9:44 a.m.

"Holy fucking shit! Tom leaped from the ratty chair with a sour frown, shaking his bangs and his hands with a growl.

Frank sat with a laugh and a grin, staring inside the interrogation room, "Tom gets a roommate."

"A beautiful young roommate, lucky bastard," Stu sat with a laugh and a grin, staring inside the interrogation room also.

Frank turned and smiled at the nose profile on Stu. "I guess that Tom can mind-fuck her while they are eating dinner together, tonight, at his castle in Coral Beach."

Tom growled at the reflection mirror, seeing Jane and Zara. "Shut the fuck up, asshole!" Frank turned and laughed, studying Janey and Zara. The females were talking and bonding the legal deal. Tom waved his bangs and his hands with a shout, "Holy hell, I'm talking to Jane." He turned and moved to the closed door inside the interrogation room.

Stu leaned over, grabbing, and held the laptop with one hand and the arm on Tom with the other with a sneer. "Sit down, Tom! We ain't supposed to be here, remember? Janey doesn't know that we're listening in on the private conversation from the two-way reflection mirror here inside the police station private lounge setting."

Tom couldn't jerk his arm from the superhuman gripe of Stu while trying to advance on his pair of new leathers towards the closed door, mouth spitting both on Stu and the floor. "She will now, since that bitch-killer can't stay with me at my palace."

"Janey owns half the house, Thomas." Frank sat inside his assigned seat with a frown, staring at the two-way mirror at Janey and Zara.

Tom shook his bangs and his arm, "No, no, no, fucking ass pain-killing no." Stu released Tom. Sawyer spun around and stared at his wife with a sad face and a whisper, "Gawd damn, Jane."

"Talk her out of it, Frank." Stu turned and winked at Mangrove.

Tom turned and paced side to side in front of the two-way mirror and his two brothers while softly cursing at the bad situation.

Gage was afraid that Tom might accidentally reveal a secret shared inside a secret room, when he was tortured by Jane tonight.

"Forget it! Janey's more stubborn than Gracie." Frank smiled at the Tom and two –way mirror of Janey and Zara, pondering the great punishment for Tom and his shitty attitude from Janey.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Tom exhaled with huff of annoyance, pacing back and forth in front of the two-way mirror, shaking his bangs and his hands.

"Go home, Tom! And introduce your person to your new roommate." Frank laughed at the two-way mirror.

7:07 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

(seven miles east of the police station)

Hot temperatures with showers and seventy percent rain

Home location of Jane and Tom

Dining room setting

The dinner plate and the crystal glass loudly clanked against the steel fork as each moving dinner fork silently guided into the set of parted lips of Zara during suppertime at the Sawyer manor. The mouth quickly chewed and swallowed the food, saying with a grin to Jane. "As a pilot I fly helicopters..."

"Pass the salt!" Tom turned with a stern face and jabbed a finger across the nose bridge of Zara at the salt shaker, wearing a new pair of black colored jeans, a yellow colored knit shirt, and a pair of black leathers, dressing for dinner. Zara sat on the left side on Tom, turning and glided the salt shaker to Tom, wearing one of Jane's sundresses in mint green with a pair of naked feet, since she could not obtain any of her personal possessions from her home in Ruby Beach.

Sawyer sat inside his chair at the head of the dining room table, watching the body and facial movements of Zara. She released the salt shaker. Tom reached and grabbed the salt shaker, lifting and tossed a tiny pinch of white salt over the baked potato. He stirred the salt, the sour cream, the butter, and the taters together like a mixing bowl and leaned over, eating like a wild animal.

Zara sipped the beverage, holding the tumbler in the air with a grin to Jane. "An aircraft lifts and propels by one or more horizontal rotors. Each rotor consists of two or more rotor blades and..."

"Pass the pepper!" Tom turned with a stern face and jabbed a finger across the nose bridge of Zara again at the lonely pepper shaker. Zara turned and slid the black pepper shaker to Tom, releasing the crystal glass as he reached and grabbed the shaker, gently tapping a couple of black colored flakes over the baked potato. He stirred the black pepper into the white taters together like a mixing bowl and leaned over, eating like an animal.

Zara said with a smile to Jane. "Helicopters are classified as rotorcraft or rotary-wing aircraft to distinguish them from a fixed-wing plane, because the source of lift comes directly from the rotor blades while rotating around a mast of..."

"Pass me the paper napkins," Tom turned with a stern face and jabbed a finger across the nose bridge of Zara at the paper napkin dispenser near her arm. Zara rolled her eyeballs, turning and grabbed, sliding the napkin tray to Tom and released the object. Tom reached and gathered one napkin, opening it wide and rested it across a lap, then grabbed a second napkin, wrapping it around a throat.

Zara smiled at Jane. "The word helicopter is French..."

Tom continued to decorate his clothes with a set of numerous yellow colored paper napkins, turning with a stern face, jabbing a manicured finger across the nose bridge of Zara at the object. "Hand me, another steak knife beside your left arm..."

"Tom, you're acting like a five-year-old child." Jane stood, scooting away from the chair, slamming it into the dinner table and wore her gray colored business suit since seven in the morning. Jane had been busy interviewing Zara, posting bail on her new client, and performing out lawyering stuff for her new client without changing out of her wrinkled and smelly business suit. Tom turned with a worried brow, watching his wife. Jane swung around toward the wall, grabbing and opening the dining room cabinet door.

The cabinet door held an extra set of dishes and eating silverware as she gathered and spun around with a body of eating items. Jane lowered with a sour frown and rested each precious item around the placement on Tom. "Your personally inventory of one salt shaker, one pepper shaker, great big stack of yellow napkins, a complete tray of eight sharp and pointy steak knives." She spun around with a sour frown and filled a new wine glass, slowly swinging around and placed the second wine glass near Tom. "And a second glass of wine." She lifted and crossed her arms with a sour frown to her husband. "Do not ask for anymore, anything. Better yet, haul your ass up from the table and get yourself, Tom, sweetheart," smiling.

"Okay, Jane, sweetheart," Tom reached and moved the second wine glass with a smile and a nod, leaning down and dived teeth and tongue into the food plate, showing love to Jane.

Zara continued with a grin to Jane. "The Frenchman Gustave de Ponton d'Amercourt, in the year 1861, coined the word helicopter. He linked the Greek word helix meaning spiral and pteron which means wing."

"Another smart ass, are you a physician, also?" Tom mouth spat his food particles over the plate, the tablecloth and into the air with a sour frown.

"Zara has a paramedic license." Jane smiled with a nod.

Tom mouth spat more food particles into the air, "Shit, I thought I recognized that shitty smelly stench."

"Tom?" Jane frowned at his nose profile.

"What, sweetheart?" Tom turned and smiled with food particles between his teeth.

Jane turned with a smile to see Zara. "His bark is worse than his bite, just ignore him. I do it all the time."

Zara smiled with a nod, "Copy."

Tom chewed with a frown at his wife Jane.

"Please continue, Zara." Jane ate the meal.

He swallowed with a grunt. "Please don't, Zara." Tom ate the meal, chewing.

Zara said with a smile to Jane, providing the necessary information for her upcoming trial. "The primary advantage, a set of copter rotor blades revolves through the air, providing the lift, without requiring the rotorcraft to move forward which is the way a plane does. This creates the ability for the helicopter to take off and land vertically, without the need for a vertical runway. Helicopters are used in congested or isolated land mass spaces, where a traditional plane is not able to take off or land."

Tom laughed with a nod, "Convenience, so that is how you killed your prey within an isolated landmass of space while flying a helicopter and landed on top of the sand." He ate and chewed the food, looking at the guilty girl.

"Thomas!" Jane frowned.

Tom swallowed the food, turning with a smile to see his wife, wiping the teeth with the tip of a pink tongue. "What, sweetheart?"

Zara said. "The lift from the rotor also allows the helicopter to hover in one area for an extended period of time..."

He laughed as a set of food particles landed on his plate, the tablecloth and his hand. "Ah, shit, shot them poor females from the air. That's very clever and skilled, Zenith. So you carry a gun inside your bra, right, sweetheart?" Tom ate and chewed the food with a grin.

"I do own a gun as a part of my formal training as a pilot." Zara exhaled with a nod.

Tom turned and nodded to Jane. "See, she's guilty. Can the bitch-killer please leave now, sweetheart?" He turned and cut on the meat, eating and chewing like an animal.

"Thomas Edison." Jane frowned at the nose profile on Tom.

Zara continued with a smile. "In the year 1942, the first helicopter design was built by Igor Sikorsky, producing and manufacturing 131 rotorcrafts. He is recognized worldwide for the single main rotor with an anti-torque tail rotor configuration design on copters." Jane nodded in silence with the new information while eating. Tom sipped the wine, listening and gathered any false information from the bitch-killer to fry her ass inside the gas chamber at Tallahassee, before Jane got burned on her cute ass, figuratively.

Zara chewed and swallowed, saying with a stern face to Jane, "The principle of auto-rotation is the method by which helicopters land safely after engine failure. It's the application of cyclic pitch, co-axial, and contra-rotating. The biplane rotors are able to be warped cyclically increasing and decreasing the lift that they produce. The rotor hub can be tilted which allows both of these applications to move the craft laterally, without a separate propeller to push or pull it..."

"Fascinating hot shit, Mr. non-Spock!" Tom mouth spat more food particles on his plate through the air.

7:22 p.m.

Zara clanked the fork against the food plate with a nod and a smile. "Thanks for the lovely dinner, Jane. I dearly love key lime pie."

"You ate three big pieces." Tom scooped up the last of his key lime pie onto the tip of a pink tongue, chewing with an open mouth like an animal for annoyance.

"There is plenty of dessert, sweetheart. Have some of the chocolate cake?" Jane faked a smile to the nose profile on Tom, trying to maintain some peace around the dining room table for the evening.

"Full." Tom burped with a smile, wiping a set of lips with the paper napkin, reaching and stripped off all the yellow paper from his clothes.

"Thomas, table manners!" Jane frowned down at his hair roots.

"Great meal, Jane, sweetheart," Tom lifted and tossed each paper napkin over the table surface, standing with a smile and leaned over, kissing a cheekbone. Jane returned a tiny kiss peck on the cheekbone on Tom. Sawyer stood upright with a grin of love, swinging around and moved from the dining room into the Florida room for some nightly entertainment.

The mobile telephone rang.

Jane reached and jerked the mobile telephone into her ear, standing and moved from the dining room. "You're welcome, Zara. Enjoy our house for the evening. I must take this call." She moved into a private part of the house, talking with her contacts and made additional telephone calls for the necessary morning meetings of fact-finding information for the criminal murder case of Zara for tomorrow.

Florida room setting

9:04 p.m.

Tom moved and stopped, turning and plopped an ass back down into his assigned recliner, facing his seventy inched plasma television monitor with a smile and a nod, kicking off his leathers. "Time for the great American past time..."

"Are you going to a baseball game? It is really late. I bet in the last ending." Zara followed behind Tom, moving and stopped, standing and sitting inside the long sofa which was next to the recliner on Tom.

Tom turned and frowned at the face of Zara, lifting and wiggled the remote control devise, "No, watching megatons of satellite television programs, I can preview over 1,954 television channels here at my two finger tips." He reached and pressed a button on the remote control devise with a grin and a giggle. The footstool of the recliner slowly lifts upright and then back down to the floor.

Tom stood and turned, dashing back into the kitchen for a cold beer and returned, sitting an ass into the recliner. The beer was placed inside the attached plastic cup console inside the recliner. He pressed a button on the remote control device. The foot stool slowly lifted and returned back down to the floor.

Tom stood in a pair of naked feet, turning with a smile and moved to the side wall and stopped, standing in front of the closet door.

The door opened.

He reached and grabbed a blanket, turning and moved back to his recliners, stopping and sat inside the leather chair, re-positioning all the items within an easy hand reach and comfort for watching America's pastime, the television.

Zara turned with a smile and a giggle at the silly performance on Tom.

Sawyer wiggled an ass side to side, turning with a smile to see her nose profile. "Wanna see your wanted selfie, coming?"

"What do you mean, Mr. Sawyer?" Zara turned and frowned at eh nose profile on Tom, holding a cup of hot tea.

"Want to see your pretty wanted face on a big screen boob tube?" Tom laughed.

"You think that I have a pretty face, also. Thanks, Mr. Sawyer, for the wonderful compliment." Zara smiled with a giggle.

He gasped then frowned. "Whatever! Let the pro show you how it's done." He turned and aimed the remote control device at the television screen with a smile.

"I can work a remote control, too, Mr. Sawyer. I'm a pilot." Zara smiled.

Jane rushed into the room toward Tom, stopping and stood over his hair roots, leaning down with a smile and kissed his cheekbone, grabbing and placed the remote control device on the shared side table with Zara. "Let's go to bed, sweetheart! I'm tired. It's been a long day and tomorrow is a more busier day for me."

"What bed?" Tom reached and lifted, sipping the beer with a sigh of relaxation.

Jane stood upright and spun around with a stern face, moving to the archway, trying to give Zara some peace for the evening. She said with a smile, "Bed time, sweetheart."

He faced the black colored television screen with a sissy whine and a sour frown, "Only eight o'clock in the evening, I wanna see some TV." He sipped the beer. Zara reached and snatched up the remote control devise between her and Tom, hugging it into her breasts with a giggle. Tom leaned over to Zara, extending an open palm with a sneer, "Mine." She extended a hand, handing back the remote control devise to Tom. He snatched and cradled the devise into his shirt with a growl.

"Sorry, Your Highness." Zara smiled.

Tom lifted and aimed the remote control devise with full arm span and a smile. "This is the most powerful masterful remote control in the world."

"Enlighten me, Mr. Sawyer." Zara smiled.

Jane yelled inside the hallway for her husband, "Bedtime, Tom."

Tom reached and sipped on the beer, swallowing the cold liquid and cleared a throat, aiming the remote control devise at each furniture item with a smile and a nod. "This device can operate the plasma, the dish, the front door, the landline telephone, the music player, the movie player, the ceiling fans, the central air conditioning unit and the gas fireplace..."

She turned and scanned the room with a puzzled brow. "You don't own a fireplace, Mr. Sawyer."

Tom flipped a hand with a smile, "A minor detail. Ready, aim, and watch! When I press this little silver button, the ceiling fans will shut off..."

"Tom, I'm really sleepy. Come to the bedroom, sweetheart!" Jane stood inside the hallway with a yell and a sour frown to her husband.

"No." Tom pressed the button. The lights flicked on and off and then shut off completely. A large spacious room went completely dark with only the illumination of the moon rays that shined down from the sky lights inside the vaulted ceiling.

"Time for bed, sweetheart," Jane stood inside the hallway with a smirk and a yell.

Tom gasped and raised his fist in the air, "Shit, what's the fuck's the problem here?" He turned and looked around the dark room, sitting inside the cozy recliner with a throw blanket over a pair of two naked legs and a set of bare feet with a cold beer inside the cubby hole of the recliner.

"Tom, time for bed, it is dark, now," Jane softly sniggered inside the dark hallway.

"What the fuck happened? Jeezus Christ, Mangrove didn't pay our electricity bill. Fuck him! I'll get his ass tomorrow, fucking asshole, Frank," Tom yelled with a sour frown in the darkness of the room.

Zara sat on the sofa with a giggle.

Jane stood inside the hallway with a smile.
Wednesday August 4th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Moonlight with light rain showers

Home of Austin

Master bedroom setting

He awoke and turned, noting the same damn time that annoyed his brain cells at 2:31 a.m., dreaming of her, again.

She was the murderess of his dead girlfriends.

He would get her ass nailed down over the wooden coffin after his personal deadly investigation with a chuckle, rolling over onto a stomach, patting the pillow and rested a face down into the soft satin, falling into a deep slumber.

9:06 a.m.

City of Dinner Key within Miami

(five miles, northeast, from Coral Beach)

Hot temperatures with partly cloudy with sunshine

Biscayne Bay body of water

Museum Coast Guard Air Station

Auditorium setting

Tom had been no help, this morning. He rolled over onto a stomach inside a warm bed, ignoring Jane's plea for help. And then he stuffed a face with good food at the breakfast table as Jane inquired about his criminal legal advice on a vitally legal law point of his sassy opinion.

Very well, Jane was a smart brilliant on the same level, almost like her genius Einstein-like husband, since she possessed a licensed law degree from the State of Florida. So there, Jane did not need Tom. But Jane needed information and decided to start with the basic information from the MDFR (Miami-Dade Fire and Air Rescue Bureau).

The MDFR provided the city Miami and the surrounding small townships with helicopter aero-medical transport, search and rescue, firefighting, and tactical support for all local municipalities. The helicopters flew severely injured trauma patients to the State of Florida approved level one trauma centers within Miami which was served by a highly trained flight crews in tactical disciplines of search and rescue missions, firefighting operations, and air reconnaissance on wild land forest fires plus natural and man-made catastrophic events.

The program had grown from one helicopter in the year 1985 which operated out of the Tamiami executive airport near the Miami airport with a fleet of four helicopters.

Each helicopter was equipped with a patient loading system that was configured to transport two critical care patients with the option of six in any type of Mass Casualty Incident (MCI). The copter possessed an external machine hoist for sea water rescues and an external high-power searchlight for lost dog puppies and other night operations with night vision compatible lighting. During the dry season in Miami, the aircraft tank was used for forest fires and operated like a hovering fire hydrant. The helicopter was staffed 24/7/365 at two alert sites, the Air Rescue South and the Air Rescue North. Two flight medics and two pilots were assigned for each craft, responding immediately to any Miami-Dade location within minutes and transporting a patient to the nearest medical center within the city.

Jane had arrived late due to her whining ass husband Tom for the pre-arranged interview which started at nine sharp with a retired captain of Miami-Dade County Air and Rescue division at the Coast Guard Museum and Air Station on Dinner Key, so she could learn everything about helicopters.

Jane entered into a cool air-conditioned auditorium, smelling the grease and heavy metals, scanning an open theater lobby space for her appointment and wore a lavender and beige business suit of a jacket and a skirt.

A black haired tall male was conducting a tour group of visitors, pointing at the helicopters.

Jane moved forward and stood at the tail end of the audience, watching and listening.

The male narrator said with a smile and a nod to the audience of visitors. "This sign states 'Busiest Air-Sea Rescue Facility in the World.' These eight little words tell a big story about a little station which grew up to a hotbed of Coast Guard Aviation in US History. In June of 1932, one air-wing prop plane was selected by the Coast Guard because of the great geographical location for flying any sea craft from Miami to the Bahamas islands to the island of Cuba and the surrounding access within the Gulf of Mexico waters. Dinner Key was that island that connected to the US Mainland in the year 1914. Then in the year 1917 the Navy commissioned the Naval Air Station, conducting flight training with twelve seaplanes and a single dirigible. The Navy left Dinner Key at the end of World War Two, but the seaplane facility stayed behind and was operated by a commercial business known as the Pan American Airlines. The first of the PJ Flying Life Boats is located over there in the corner. They were the first wing crafts that were assigned to the station with a set of radio directional equipment. That meant that we could talk back and forth to the controllers.

"In the year 1935, a hurricane with winds over one hundred and fifty miles-per-hour struck the Florida Keys, before the monster hit land mass, Lt. Clemmer dropped a set of real paper messages down to the natives below to warn them of the approaching storm and saved hundreds of lives. After the hurricane, Lt. Clemmer and his small wing craft flew sixteen victims to the hospital for immediately medical attention. These operations provided public awareness of the Coast Guard mission and purpose of the capabilities of the roto-craft and the valuable roto-craft personnel in these dangerous natural and man-made situations. By the year 1938, more aircraft were added to the Miami station for rescue missions, consisting of three PH-2 Hall boats that are over there on the wall. Three SOC-4 seagulls are over there behind my co-worker Gary,

Now, in the big one that is World War Two for the little kids. The Coast Guard would fly anti-submarine warfare patrols and convoy support missions for equipment and medical supplies to the US military, attacked the enemy, and saved countless survivors from numerous torpedoed merchant ships within water opens of the Atlantic Ocean. One of the super heroes of World War Two was Lt. James Schader. He patrolled inside a Vought OS2U-3 Kingfisher that plane is over there by the other wall. He would eyeball swimming soldiers in the waters, the lands, and then takes them onboard his copter for rescue and then all the people were transported safely to shore and lived out happy lives."

The audience sounded with a set of hand claps, wearing smiles.

The male narrator nodded with a grin and pointed to the other male. "Folks, Gary will take over now. Step along the yellow line. Don't cross it. Or we'll drop you down from the air tower which is not fun," laughing.

Gary clapped for attention, smiling at the audience. "Good morning and welcome, I'm Gary. Ask me any question as we walk around the cement floor. Let's start over here with the basic info of a helicopter. Copters are used for observation, transport, and medical evacuation but primarily used for rescue from harsh terrain. The flapping hinges allow the rotor to lift equally on left and on the right halves of the rotor disk. The drag hinge relieves further stress on the rotor from its flapping motion. Both concepts allow for a stable rotor system for hover and forward flight. The smaller propellers that are mounted to the airframe are used for additional pitch, roll and yaw control with modest FAI speed, altitude which is eighteen miles. The duration of time is thirty minutes and four second. The distance flown is twenty-eight miles.

"Sikorsky uses these configurations to counteract the torque that is produced by a single main rotor by using a smaller rotor that is mounted vertically on the tail boom. Pilots at the controls of a closed-circuit flight within a five-hundred-mile diameter can flight a duration record of twenty-nine minutes and thirty-four seconds over forty-five miles of a closed circuit at sixty-two miles-per-hour."

The male narrator turned with a smile and moved, stopping and stood in front of Jane, extending a hand. "Mrs. Sawyer, I presume."

Jane reached and shook the hand with a smile and a nod, "Yes, sir. I'm so sorry for being late. I do apologize."

He withdrew the hand, standing with both his hands behind the curve of a back spine like a solider at full attention, staring with a smile at Jane, "I'm Barry. No need for that. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to ask you some questions, some detailed helicopter questions about a pilot named Zara Zenith." Jane pulled out her notepad with the pencil for jotting down notes.

"Know that pilot very well, Zara broke all helicopter State of Florida records demonstrating a flight envelope of two-hundred-foot diameter," Barry smiled.

"Very tight?" Jane frowned at the buzz words of helicopter terms, pilots, and machines.

"Damn tight, she's one helluva of a pilot. Not the first female helicopter pilot, but my best, what's your beef with her, lady attorney?" Barry frowned.

"She has been arrested for a series of murders which you probably read about in the local Miami newspaper." Jane nodded.

Barry leaned over and patted the engine hood on the helicopter with a smile. "Do you see this? It was the Model 30 which became the modern Bell-47, the first aircraft certified for civilian use in the US. The semi-rigid, teetering-blade rotor design utilized a weighted stabilizing bar for control of the rotors. On December 11, in the year 1951, the Ka-225 helicopter became the first turbine-powered copter in the world. On March 24, in the year 1954, a modified Navy HTK-1 became the first twin-turbine helicopter to fly. The turbine engine provided a large amount of horsepower with lower weight penalty than piston engines, consisting of a very heavy engine block plus auxiliary engine components. In the second half of the twentieth century, the development of the light weight turbo shaft engine provided a larger, faster, and higher-performance copter. The turbo shaft engine is the power plant for copters today.

"Helicopters are used for transportation, construction, firefighting, search and rescue missions, and other jobs that require special capabilities of copters with the unique operating characteristics, the ability to take off and land vertically, hover for extended periods of time, handling under low airspeed conditions. These babies are popular."

"Is there a point to your history lesson?" Jane frowned.

Barry turned and smiled at Jane. "My point, lady attorney, anyone could have flown that Bell-200 with some proper copter training, not just Zara, going down and landing into a fish town of Ruby Beach and then back home to metro city Miami, killing those beautiful women."

Jane nodded and accepted the first lesson of helicopters. "I believe you and her, now I need evidence to prove her innocent."

"Can't help there? She's solo." Barry shook a gray skull.

"Solo?" Jane frowned.

"Zara has her own license and is a free lancer, hired by other business companies for different types of flying jobs." Barry smiled.

This was not good. Zara hadn't mentioned that employment fact. Jane would question her, later and clarify that new statement, since the old retired captain might be confused. Jane said. "I thought she was employed by the Lee County Fire and Rescue."

"She did for a long while. Then suddenly, she resigned and went to work for herself. I know your question, lady attorney. Ask her, not me?" Barry nodded.

"I'll do that." Jane nodded.

"Now, I suggest that you listen to the rest of the tour about the whirly birds. You might pick up something worth seeing or noting, since you think Zara's innocent. Good luck and god sped! And Mrs. Sawyer, please give my regards to Zara." Barry extended a hand, firmly dismissing Jane and her legal questions. She shook the hand as he withdrew it, turning with a stern face and moved back into his private office on the opposite side of the auditorium.

Jane moved ahead with a confuse brow at the tail end, listening to words, comprehending her own inner mental thoughts, since the personal visit hadn't accomplished anything important, but a set of important clues were always hard to find. Her work as a single defense lawyer was just getting started.

Zara could not assist, since she was legally bound by an ankle bracelet and lawyered into the house for her protection as set by the requirements of the judge and bail.

Tom could help both her and Zara, but was not.

Jane was busy with a set of manicured finger tips, fending Tom off of Zara at the shared house, much less defending her client inside the court room. And Jane better not discover that Mr. Sawyer was one of the superstar guests at Coral Gables district attorney prosecution table. Or Tom would be inside some deep dark green smelly shit.

Secretly, she was getting a little help anyways.

Stu had contacted Jane last night for a private meeting at six am this morning, before he started a working day at Quartet Associates which intrigued and thrilled Jane. Gage thought of Zara like a sister, a fellow police officer and he believed her story.

Jane was pleased about Stu's well wishes for Zara and the cause to save an innocent life.

Austin wanted to fry Zara's brain cells inside Tallahassee without a just and fair criminal trial. He could be so frustrating and domineering.

No wonder, Tom continued to get mad at his brother for a set of careless reasons.

Frank was not mumbling about any silly or significant topic to Jane, since he felt and showed his guilt toward Zara. This was a different party from Kattleen's, but that was a different day, a different time, a different trial, and a different lawyer.

Jane was the attorney, feeling nervous and excited about the murder case and her client, because Zara was innocent and Jane would prove it.

Two hours earlier

6:02 a.m.

City of South Miami

(three miles west of Coral Beach)

South Miami Public Library

Parking lot setting of Stu and Jane

Stu had provided a laptop to Jane that contained background information on Zara, including the current police records, criminal checks, credit checks, money financial statements, employment information and some social events too. Stu had verified and confirmed that Zara's record was clean, cleaner than tom.

Zara did not possess anything illegal. No parking tickets. No jaywalking tickets. No speeding. Zara was a good model citizen with lots of chocolate fudge brownie points in her favorite at the upcoming murder trial.

Present time and place

Museum Coast Guard Air Station

Auditorium setting

9:43 a.m.

The bail hearing had finished.

The preliminary hearing was set for Friday morning. Jane had hundreds of details to achieve along with four different angles of defensive strategies, a helicopter, the dead females, Zara, and Austin. Tom would not talk or allow any of his lawyer staff to assist Jane with the murder case, because of Austin.

Austin was the chief executive officer of Quartet Assholes, ruling the company with a butterfly whisper.

Jane could have accomplished tons of work, if Austin would offer a sweet cooperation tongue click, regarding Zara's life and her case. Instead, Austin was being a sour puss, not speaking to Jane or engaging in any social calls with the Sawyer family, until the murder trial was finished or fucked.

Jane zoned out the tenor words from Gary, moving behind the audience like a mindless zombie.

Two hours earlier

6:04 a.m.

City of South Miami

South Miami Library

Parking lot setting of Stu and Jane

Jane leaned the purple and beige colored designer skirt against the clean door of her red sports car, shooting out a set of verbal questions at Stu.

Stu leaned a pair of black colored pair of linen trousers against his white sporting luxury sedan, crossing his arms over a pressed and ironed yellow cotton dress shirt with a glittering yellow twelve carat diamond at his throat. He nodded in silence to each of her questions without really participating in the defense case.

This was the safest possible meeting venue for Jane and Stu, since Stu and Jane were active members of the Miami-Dade Library board of directors. No asshole brother would question a set of familiar luxury parked cars inside the garage of the library, if the cars were accidentally eyewitnessed by a nosy bratty billionaire.

Jane smiled to Stu. "I'm meeting with a helicopter expert this morning to collect all available information about the copter used in the female murders." She was trying to prove that a second pilot with a second helicopter might have been used to kill the girls while pointing the murder away from Zara.

Stu shook a bald skull without the verbal words, using the secret code with a silent message that it was not a good angle.

Jane nodded with a stern face. "No helicopter angle. That leaves only the dead collection of bodies for my defense." She had received the official Miami-Dade laboratory medical report, discovering nothing in common with the dead bodies, only the silly poses of the photographs.

Stu nodded, very fast and very long.

Jane frowned. "The bodies are photographed in weird poses, Stu. That doesn't help her or give me any ideas to investigate." She knew that the only common factor was Austin as he was listed in the formal police investigative report which did not help. Jane had discovered nothing else in common with the dead bodies, since the police had stopped questioning Austin.

Austin refused to share his professional or private knowledge of the murdered babe beauties, since he believed that Zara was guilty of the female crimes.

Stu nodded, very fast and very long.

Jane frowned. "Did you see the photos?"

He nodded without words.

She frowned. "I saw them too, so I should search the angle of female photographs. There's no common denominator within the photos, except that each girl dated Austin, only once, Stu. Should I ask Austin?"

He frowned.

She lifted both palms into the air with a smile, "Just kidding! Austin won't talk to me. But inside the photos, I recall one girl holding a ballerina shoe..."

He shook his baldness.

"I shouldn't focus on the individual objects, but something inside the photos of the girls. Each girl lived in a different geographical section of Miami, Stu. There's no common factor present."

He nodded and tapped his sleeve with two fingers.

"You look to be stimulating a pulse beating on your arm like a heart. That's means alive. The girls are dead, Stu.

He motioned with a set of four fingers in the air for her to guess again, pointing at his heart organ and then touched an eye socket, a nose bridge, and finally the lips.

Jane nodded. "A pulse, a heart, eyeball, smell, taste, am I getting warm?"

He nodded without words.

Jane exhaled. "Those objects are medically collected."

He nodded without words.

"I received the medical report from the lab boys. There's no common factor either."

He motioned with a set of four fingers in the air again like there was more information that she needed to guess.

"That's interesting that you've repeated the medical angle. I had a slightly similar chat about another medical condition which might be present or maybe might be common among the girls."

He nodded.

"Would Frank know this medical condition that you are referencing?"

He frowned.

She frowned. "Of course, Dr. Mangrove would, but Frank won't talk to me, either. I understand. I need to investigate a different medical angle that is common among the dead females."

He nodded without words.

"That's not easy, Stu. I'm clueless where to start and timed limited when to finish. Do you have any more non-wordy hints?"

He pointed to his temple with a stern face.

She laughed. "I should use my brain. I got it, Big Man."

Stu knew that Janey was smart, sometimes smarter than Tom, since she was head of one of the largest charities in America that helped children, requiring a set of big brain cells to manipulate the people and the politicians with her deep devoted desires.

Big Man chuckled, knowing that Janey was going to figure this out and win this case for her client, without a clue that he was indirectly involved. Austin would start shooting directly at the toes of Stu while inside the expensive leathers and then move straight up toward the heart of Stu with the Ghost, if Berrington had a tiny tea leave inking that Gage was giving a set of big non-wordless hints to Janey.

Jane really desired for Stu to come with her to the MDRF meeting, but Stu could not boldly go with her. Gage had risked enough heat, without Austin finding out. She was not going to hint a clue that Stu had helped with her criminal investigation with a secret meeting and hidden data from Tom, too.

However, Stu's life was in danger from Badass Berrington, since asshole Austin did not play games, only girls.

Jane giggled at a true but ridicule present day fact, moving ahead and hugged Stu, giving a sisterly peck on his cheekbone.

Stu hugged his Quartet sister and slapped her thin female bicep with a folded fist for fun and luck.

Then they both released the brotherly-sisterly embrace.

Stu back stepped and swung around with a smile and a hum, entering his vehicle, driving off for a good day's work at Quartet Associates.

Present time and place

Museum Coast Guard Air Station

Auditorium setting

10:02 a.m.

Gary smiled to the audience. "Copters are used as an air ambulance for any and all emergency medical assistance, instead of a traditional ambulance, when the situation cannot easily or quickly be reached by a land vehicle. Or when a patient needs to be transported at a far distance, where air transportation is most practical. The air ambulance provides medical treatment to a critically injured or ill patient during flight which is called medevac. The injured patients are being airlifted or medevaced. Police and law enforcement agencies use copters to search for and rescue criminal illegal suspects too. The copters can achieve a unique aerial view and doesn't need to negotiate around small or large ground obstacles like trees or lakes. The whirly birds are used to report on a suspect's location and his body movements with a set of mounted flashlights plus an array of heat-sensing equipment for any type of night evening pursuit."

"Forget all these points! Concentrate on the medical angle," Jane whispered for her eardrums only, back stepping from the rear of the audience and pirouetted toward the exit archway, leaving the building for more clues.
Thursday August 5th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Beach

Warm temperatures with parted clouds of moonlight

Home of Austin

Master bedroom setting

He awoke, blinking a pair of eyelids open, turning and stared at the bright red numbers 2:31 am with another mind dream of scattered colorful fragments. But it was not the same girl from the previous morning.

A new one, he had recalled dating around Christmas time last year, who was very pretty and nice but not wife material.

He exhaled with a huff of annoyance, rolling off the bed mattress, moving into the closet and dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a shirt.

Home location of Jane and Tom

Master bedroom setting

2:32 a.m.

Jane screamed inside her bedroom.

Zara screamed inside the guest bedroom.

The landline telephone rang inside the master bedroom on Tom and Jane.

Jane tossed Tom off her naked body, rolling off the bed mattress and grabbed a blue colored bathrobe from the chair, dressing and moved to the closed door.

The door opened.

Jane dashed on a pair of naked down the staircase to the third floor.

Inside the master bedroom, Tom sat upright with a sour frown and yelled at the open door. "Fuck, Jane. Stay here with me, sweetheart. Fuck that bitch-killer. Jane..." The landline telephone continued to ring on top of the nightstand inside the master bedroom on Tom and Jane. Sawyer turned with a sour frown and crawled over the bed covers to the telephone landline on Jane's side of the bed frame, lifting the receiver with a yell, "What, asshole?"

Two minutes later, Tom was dressed and moved ahead from the master bedroom, down the staircase, and stopped, standing on the third floor next to Jane. He wore a pair of dark green and orange flaming dragon-faced pair of bed slippers inside a pair of naked feet, a pair of light neon orange pajamas with a punk green colored alien skull over his flat chest. He carried a peach colored cordless telephone in a right hand and a matching peach satin-covered pillow in a left, standing between the bathrobe-wrapped Jane and the clothed bitch-killer. Tom leaned a skull over the shoulder of Jane, closing his eyelids and then handed the cordless telephone to her with a sleepy tone. "For you..."

Jane reached and tenderly patted the blonde hair on Tom with a smile and accepted the cordless telephone with a whisper, "Jane Sawyer."

Pause.

"Yes." Jane softly said.

Pause.

"No." Jane softly said.

Pause.

"No." Jane quietly said and clicked off the button. "There has..."

".... been another murder involving another one of Austin's former acquaintances." Zara nodded.

Jane narrowed her eyelids at Zara, "On Leonardo Street in the Gables, the police were asking me questions about...."

"Me!" Zara gasped.

Jane nodded in silent acknowledgement.

Tom stood upright with a sour frown at Zara, turning with a confused brow to see a blinking and activated home security alarm box over the yellow painted wall. Tom tucked the pillow underneath an armpit, turning and marched to the alarm box with a puzzled brow. "How did you get out of my house, bitch killer? Jeezus, we are implicated by close kinship connection here, Jane. You know that incriminating involvement thingy using our fancy law term in this new murder, Jane, by that bitch killer." He spun around with an angry brow. "Looky, toss her bitch killer ass out of our house, Jane."

"Understood, Tom," Jane said, "Get ready, Zara! We're going for a look-see at the newly murdered. Maybe, we can get you out of this tonight, since you didn't do it. Since, you were here with us inside Coral Beach."

"Right, Jane." Zara nodded with a smile.

Jane turned and moved back to the staircase, leaving Tom behind and yelled. "Tom, get dressed! We're viewing a murder."

Tom turned with a sour frown, standing in place with a yell, watching her ass wiggle inside the red bathrobe up the staircase to the master level of their house, "Holy fucking shit, don't wanna see a fucking dead body, Jane. It smells really awful, Jane. I'm calling Austin, Stu, and Frank. They can help you pin this newly murdered on that bitch killer, Jane. She somehow escaped from our house, Jane. Stu can figure it out, being the great security god, well kinda. Let's call him first. Jane, now, the bitch killer has killed again like a real true serial killer. We're housing a crazy cocked criminal bitch killer, Jane."

"Stay that three times fast, sweetheart." Jane moved up the stairs with a giggle and a yell. "I'm calling the police..."

"...to arrest her fucking ass, Jane. That's a wise-ass decision, sweetheart. Get us out of this gawd damn thing." Tom moved up the staircase, landing on the fourth floor with a smile and a nod, strolling to the master bedroom.

"To inform the police, we're coming to the newly murdered site, sweetheart. Get dressed, Tom. Are you calling Austin?" Jane moved to the open archway of the master bedroom.

Tom shuffled the pillow into the puke green 'alien' skull in the center of his flat chest, marching in a pair of dragon-faced bed slippers behind her with a sissy whine, "Jane, Austin is going to be pissed at us, well, at me."

Jane stopped and swung around with a stern face. Tom moved into her body with a worried brow. Jane wrapped both her warm arms around her husband, kissing his lips, and pulled back with a smile. "Austin is too big for his little boy britches. I will never allow Austin to boss you or me around ever, sweetheart." Tom leaned over and hugged his wife, pulling back with a smile in silence of love and protection. She smiled. "I love you, Tom, sweetheart."

"I love you, Jane, sweetheart." Tom whispered into her smile.

They turned and entered the master bedroom, getting dressed to visit the newly murdered.

City of Coral Gables

(two miles, northeast, from Coral Beach)

Warm temperatures with cloudy night sky and bright stars

House location of Penny Parson

Living room setting

3:13 a.m.

The golden colored limousine pulled in front of the silver tinted limousine over the city street in front of the house.

The door opened.

Zara scooted and climbed out the limousine in a pair of ripped and faded old blue jeans and an unpolished and worn blue and green colored leather cowgirl boots from the day of her arrest as the male scooted and stood in front of the silver tinted limousine with a stern face. She turned and frowned at the familiar male. "Austin's here."

Tom scooted across the beach seating in the rear of the limousine with a sour frown, standing with a yawn, wearing a new pair of blue jeans, a baby blue short sleeved shirt without a tie, and a pair of new navy blue leathers. "You told me to call the Quartet. They're here!" He turned and sounded with a loud grunt from his lack of sleep, assisting Jane out the door like a true South Florida gentleman. Jane stood beside Tom, scanning the house and the lawn.

Zara pointed at Austin, who was dressed in pair of blue jeans and a shirt as he moved and wandered closer to Tom and Jane. Zara frowned. "How did he arrive before us? We received the police call right before you called the Quartet."

"So what, bitch killer?" He yawned, rubbing his eyelids, whacking his blonde bangs side to side, trying to stay awake at three in the gawd damn morning for some dead bitch.

"Tom, manners!" Jane frowned at the hair roots on Tom.

He yawned with an open mouth. "Shit, three in the fucking morning, doggie tired, Jane. I go to damn work tomorrow. I work for a living instead of lounge around my swimming pool." He turned to see the suntanned skin on Zara within the moonlight beams of a bright beautiful night sky in Miami through the yawns and the tired eyeballs.

Jane leaned over and hugged Tom with a smile, wearing a red colored sundress with a pair of designer high heels. "I work also, Tom, for my client. And Zara works for me while researching her legal law case. So, she deserves some time off ever once and a while...."

"Before her permanent time in the slammer," Tom yawned as he was too tired to laugh.

Austin stopped and stood in front of Jane, since Frank and Stu hadn't arrived but were in route. He had buzzed the mobile phones inside his house before leaving.

"Austin, you've arrived first. I see before us." Jane turned and smiled to her asshole brother.

Austin stared at Zara.

Tom leaned over and hugged the collar bone of Jane with a whisper, "Get this over with, gawd, I'm tired and sleepy." He turned and yawned at Austin. "I miss our morning meeting, Austin, on purpose. Telling you, now, so don't send Zack looking for me. Okay, I'm sleepy in...."

The morning meeting was the only requirement from Austin as the chief executive officer of Quartet Associates, since each fourth reported, produced, and solved every problem for the day, week, and month. And any upcoming future problem at the moment, four bodies scattered to complete the individual tasks within the skilled fields of talent.

Tom usually enjoyed the morning meetings that provided the back stabbing gossip, negative and nasty feedback trash talk from Frank and Stu. He never missed a meeting, well maybe, once for being late.

Seven years ago

Quartet Associates headquarters building

Morning meeting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

Austin was pissed off with an absent and misplaced Sawyer, sending Zack, the best asshole of all Quartet Assholes to retrieve a millionaire young playboy. QA employee Zack could find a criminal hiding drug lord within the deep dark wild green jungles of South America, if Austin commanded it.

Zack drove and then jogged into the unguarded Sawyer manor, finding and jerked Tom out of his pretty bed so fast that Tom had dreamed that he was being kidnapped for ransom and torture. Instead, Zack dragged, carried, and hauled a half-conscious and semi-naked body into Quartet Associates headquarters and presented Tom to an angry Austin.

The other two brothers were mad and worried also.

Tom didn't bother to answer his landline, his door bell, or his cell phone, because Sawyer was the happy-go-lucky-party boy during his bachelor's days with whores, vamps, sluts, and tramps, coming and going into the mansion on an hourly basis, especially during the nights and the weekends. This happened to be one of Tom's biggest whore parties, celebrating something that Sawyer could not remember within his brain cells. Then Tom passed out cold on his bed mattress inside the master bedroom, forgetting about the morning meeting attendance requirement and his clothing.

Present day and place

City of Coral Gables

Home location of freshly dead Miss Penny Parson

Living room setting

3:14 a.m.

Austin turned and stared with a stern face at Zara. "Do you want to see the dead body?"

"Hell, no!" Tom rubbed both sleepy eyelids with a yawn.

"Yes, I do." Jane turned and smiled at the nose profile on Austin.

"So, do I," Zara turned with a smile stared at nose bridge of Austin.

Tom yawned with an ugly tongue. "Gross, ya'll! I'm a billionaire, not a morgue attendant. Go for it! I'll send in Stu and Frank. They like gross and weird stuff too. Run along and play with the dead things." He leaned into the side of the limousine, crossing both arms, closing his eyelids, dropping down a chin into the chest.

Austin, Zara, and Jane turned and moved to the construction barrier of yellow paper lines as the police photographers continued to snap flashing light bulbs at the manicured lawn.

The Suits and the Uniforms huddled in a tight group, discussing the newly murdered as set of flash bulbs brightened the dark skyline.

A tenor voice and a pair of blue sleeves lifted and blocked the body of Austin. "Whoa! This ain't a prom dance, sir. Who are you, folks?"

She recognized the two limousines and the ass of Berrington. "Austin Berrington, what are you doing, here?" Jane and Zara turned around to see the Hardy. Police detective Hardy moved from the unmarked police car with a stern face, standing and stared at the faces Mrs. Sawyer and Miss Zenith, wearing a pastel short-sleeved shirt with a pair of tan colored walking shorts, a pair of tan colored shoes, and a dangling police officer badge around her neck.

Her partner Loree marched and stopped, standing beside Hardy and dressed in the same color style of clothing when they first appeared at the home of Austin on the first of August.

"I was instructed to come and examine a murder victim." Austin pointed with a smirk to Zara, instead of Janey. "I do believe you know our current criminal Miss Zenith." Jane frowned. Zara stares eyelashes at Officer Hardy.

Hardy turned and nodded with a grin to Jane. "You have finally come around to the truth. I commend you, Mrs. Sawyer." She cuts her eyelashes to Zara with a sneer. "Turning the criminal over to me, Mrs. Sawyer, that is a very wise decision. Cuff her..." The closest uniformed police officer reached and pulled out, rattling a pair of hand cuffs. Austin chuckled.

Jane moved and blocked, protecting the front of Zara with a sneer. "We are here at this house to investigate the continuously string of mysterious madam murders that the local Coral Gables police detectives cannot solve. We are here to prove Zara's innocence once and final, releasing my client back into civilized society, free of all criminal charges. And might I remind you and the eardrums of all the listening police officers that Zara resides within my personal residence on Coral Beach, after being released on bail into my custody. Coral Beach is a highly armed and guarded private estate of billionaires, you know by personal invitation, Officer Hardy."

Hardy crossed both arms with a sneer. "So, you want to prove her innocent once and for all. Drag her ass out into a side private room inside the house, so Miss Zenith can explain how she didn't kill this murder victim and how she didn't leave the Coral Beach, a highly armed and guarded billionaire estate." She chuckled with Loree and Austin.

The five bodies stood still in the grass and stared at each other on a hot humid summertime evening in Coral Gables, Florida.

The two black and white colored limousines approached the house and stopped, parking behind the golden and silver tinted ones.

Two different doors opened.

Stu and Frank moved from the doors, stopping and stood inside a semi-circle huddle with Hardy, Janey, Austin, and Zara, scanning each other nostrils.

Hardy pivoted and moved toward a side door of the house with a sneer, leading the group of billionaires plus the criminal and her partner into a dim-lighted hallway and turned, moving into a small room. She stopped and stood in the middle the room, swinging around to see the audience of people.

The room was square shaped that was surrounded by shelving of books with three lounge chaise chairs for reading a book. The books were old, torn, new, polished and smelly.

Each person entered the room, stopping and stood around Hardy, staring with a stern face at each wall of the room without sitting inside a chair.

Hardy jabbed a finger with a sneer at Zara, "Okay, talk? How did you do it? Since you're living with her, right, Mrs. Sawyer at one of the estate manors of Coral Beach, Miss Zenith?"

Zara nodded with a smile. "The girl has brown hair with a petite frame. And she is located inside the living room..."

All eyeballs turned and stared at Zara.

Hardy pointed a finger at Zara with a sneer. "She's the killer All right. She knew the house, the girl, and the location of the dead body. No one knows the details of the crime, except for the true killer."

"Nonsense..." Jane turned and frowned at Zara.

Zara turned and stared at Austin, instead of Hardy. "This is all logical. The living room is always the selected venue inside the next home of the next victim. Why can't you all see the murderer's logic behind the photos? Anyways, this is all a play time ploy. There is someone behind...."

"Zara was asleep at my house. I decided as her legal representative that the legal officials should know what's really going on. I asked Zara to come to this murder and this house. I want to show you that Zara isn't involved in the series of murders." Jane turned and frowned at Hardy.

Zara stared at Austin as Austin stared at Zara

Hardy turned and frowned at the nose profile on Zara. "You have planned this entire sequence of silly photographical events with all the past and maybe future murders, since you cannot escape from your baby crib. So you used an accomplice. Who are you working with, Miss Zenith?"

"Don't answer, Zara." Jane sneered at Hardy.

"Jane?" Zara turned and frowned at Mrs. Sawyer. Zara wanted to help. She believed her own theory that the real killer was after Austin, not his formal girlfriends. Maybe, she could convince Officer Hardy of that deadly fact.

Jane sneered at Hardy. "Don't answer, Zara. You can't intimate her. This is against police policy and injustice. I'm reporting you to Trilling."

"See any police brutality here, boys?" Hardy scanned the room. Frank laughed. Stu frowned. Austin continued to stare at Zara. Jane turned and frowned at Stu for some police assistance with the delicate matter. Hardy jabbed a finger with a growl at Zara. "You are going to jail for your murder crimes alone. Tell me, girl, who is with you on all these murdered females?"

Jane turned and growled at Hardy. "Fifth Amendment, you don't have to talk to anyone but me, Zara."

"This killing comes between seven and nine in the evening like with the other girls." Zara turned and nodded to Hardy, wanting to help the police. She didn't kill the girls. She had an alibi for this murder, sleeping inside the Sawyer house in Coral Beach.

"Quiet, Zara!" Jane frowned at Hardy.

"You planned it all along. Who's your partner in crime, Miss Zenith?" Hardy frowned at Zara.

"I did not harm anyone." Zara said.

"Yup, I heard that quote before." Hardy laughed with Frank. Stu frowned with Jane.

"Miss Zenith, she did in the living room with a knife," Frank laughed.

"Shut up, Frank!" Jane turned and sneered at her ill-mannered brother and then Hardy. "Arrest her or let her go, Hardy. No evidence. No weapon. No motive. Zara is only under arrest for being at all two murder scenes of the crime under a police investigation in two countries of Florida."

Hardy waved a hand with a sneer. "Get out of my sight! But I'll catch you sooner or later, so be warned, Miss Zenith."

Jane turned and grabbed the arm of Zara, leading them out of the room, onto the wet grass, and near the limousine. The remaining Quartet followed Jane outside the tiny room toward the individual limos.

The party split into different groups.

Austin moved and entered his personal limousine along with Stu and Frank.

The chauffeur opened the rear door.

Zara stopped and scooted into the rear bench seating on Tom's limousine, accomplishing nothing but more suspicion for the early morning, sitting on the opposite side on Tom with a stern face in silence.

Jane scooted beside Tom. Tom cuddled closer to his wife Jane, leaning a cheekbone onto her collar bone with a yawn, sniffing up a rank odorous air, up righting a torso with a sour frown and a matching tone and slid to the opposite end of the bench. "Jane, sweetheart, gawd, you smell. All dead things smell. You gotta bath before getting into my bed with me. Better yet, sleep in the guest bedroom, until you bath and smell pretty again."

The door closed shut.

Jane turned with a smile to see her husband on the other side of the seating near the opposite window. "Tom, you don't want me near you?" Jane smiled.

"Gawd, not tonight, I mean, today. I mean, this morning. I mean, I tired, Jane." Tom rubbed his eyeballs with a yawn, leaning a cheekbone into the cold window, closing his eyelids. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Tom." Jane reached over with a grin and pressed the button. "Jack, home, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Jack said via the rear speaker, cranking the engine, steering the limousine toward the east in the direction of Coral Beach.

11:31 a.m.

City of Miami

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

Charity Bay Shore Hospital

(six miles north of Coral Gables)

Physician office setting

Jace Justin Jackson, Junior, MD

The reception door opened.

She strolled through a nicely decorated lavender and gold reception lobby and stopped, standing with a smile at a busy receptionist desk. The office staff member smiled. "Good morning, ma'am!"

Jane smiled, "Good morning! May I speak to Jace, please? My name is Jane Sawyer."

The receptionist with a black hair bun and a tone of tinted dark skin wore a white tunic smile and pointed down at a chair inside the reception lobby, "Yes ma'am. Please, have a seat. I will contact Dr. Jackson for you."

Jane back stepped with a fake smile and moved away from the receptionist desk, stopping and stood near the water tank of saltwater fish that entertained some of the patients inside the reception space, waiting for Jace. He was a very good friend and pseudo family member, who would drop everything to meet with Jane for an emergency or a non-emergency. However, Jane was here on business with an emergency, wearing a navy blue jacket with a yellow linen skirt.

The door opened.

Jace stood inside the archway with a smile and a hand motion only to Jane in silence, wearing his white laboratory coat with a named across the left side pocket that was on top of a mint green business suit with a pair of dark green leathers.

Jane moved with a spring to her step and a smile, stopping and hugging him inside the archway, "Hi, Jace."

Jace back stepped and turned, cuddling Jace like his sister which he didn't have, moving down a busy lavender and pink colored hallway of sick patients and nurses toward his private office for a chat.

The door opened.

Jane entered first, moving and stopped, standing in the middle of the large office space of bright yellow and dull green tones.

Jace turned and closed the door, swinging around, moving to the side wall, where a beverage bar stood that contained colored beverages and numerous snacks of fruit and nuts during his busy physician hours.

Jane turned and smiled at his back spine in silence.

Jace stopped and stood in front of the beverage bar, fiddling with the tall bottles of colorful juice and the small tumblers of glass, saying with a smile, "Janey, so nice of you to visit me here, today. Want something to drink? I have numerous flavored pure juices..."

Jane stood in place with a smile, shaking her hand and her briefcase in a folded fist with her limited time before the murder trial of Zara. Her yellow and blue colored designer purse bounced over a shoulder. "No, thank you. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Jace. You've been informed that I'm the attorney for Zara Zenith, the girl who whacked Austin's former flames but not really true." She exhaled with a sour frown, staring at the back spine on Jace. "Jace, I need a potassium blood draw on two of the dead bodies there at the Miami-Dade city morgue, as soon as possible."

Jace stood in front of the beverage bar, fiddling with the small tumbles and teacups with a smile without viewing Janey. "Allow me to get you a beverage, juice, tea, lemonade, coffee," his back spine dropped down to the carpet, opening the door of a tiny stocked refrigerator underneath the beverage bar and stood with a tall bottle of cold beverage. Then he reached up and opened the upper cabinet with a set of clean shiny glass tumblers for the beverage, presenting a back spine, not a face to Jane.

"Jace?"

Jace smiled with a chuckle, "Fresh coffee, do you like coffee, Janey? I know Tom does."

Jane exhaled with annoyance. "I need a blood draw and then a clinical test for a specific potassium compound. I've researched this particular compound on the internet as a novice nurse. I'm not a physician, since I'm only a lawyer. But I believe that it might be related to all the deaths of the murder victims." Jace fixed a tumbler of juice, slowly swinging around with a smile to face Jane. Jane frowned. "You know how to do that, don't you, Jace? Or can one of your registered nurses perform that particular medical test along with your doctoring skills at the city morgue? What do you prefer, Jace?"

"I do, Janey." Jace nodded with a smile.

Jane smiled with a nod, "Excellent, do it, today? I'm really in a rush with the upcoming court date and all. I'll be happy to compensate you for your time very well for your time, Jace." She turned and opened her purse, scratching around inside her personal checkbook.

"I would, if I could, if I..." Jace looked down with a smile at the floor, the windows, and the three flying sea gulls, since Charity Bay Shore Hospital rested upon the golden sands, the bluish ocean waters, and yellow sunshine of Biscayne Bay on the shoreline of Miami, Florida.

Jane exhaled with fury, finding her checkbook, pondering the weird-ass act of Jace. However, her smart neurons swiftly concluded the most direct logical answer but decided to annoy Jace for the hell of it anyways. She looked up with an angry brow and a matching tone at Jace. "What the hell is going on here, Jace?"

"Janey, I cannot work for you, dear." Jace held the tumbler of juice in both hands with a sad face.

"Why the hell not, Jace?" Jane exhaled.

"There! You see. There is an injunction on my private medical physician services. You can use..."

"Why do you have an injunction, Jace? Coming from the hell who?" Jane knew the answer but she wanted to have some nasty fun with Jace.

"Janey," Jace whispered with a sad face.

"Let me take a wild fucking guess, my gawd damn husband." Jane exhaled.

He laughed with a nod, "Lucky guess, it is Tom."

"And?" Jane stomped a designer shoe toward Jace to intimidate for her fun.

"Quartet Associates," Jace rushed the words with a slightly smirk. Austin was Janey's target now. However, Jace would have liked to see the verbal cat fight between the female and male bad asses on planet Earth, maybe the entire Milky Way Galaxy.

"Quartet Assholes, twice." Jane exhaled with a puff of annoyance, looking down with a vicious string of elegant curse words which was made famous by Tom, during his infamous temper tampers. She looked up with a sneer and turned, moving to the closed door.

Jace back pedaled an ass into the beverage bar with a worried brow, watching the back spine on Jane move across the room.

The office door opened.

Jane left the office of Jace.

The door closed.

Hallway setting

11:33 a.m.

Jane moved down the familiar hallway, turning and slammed open the side door, ignoring the voices of the patients inside the reception space, moving through the archway and stopped and stood in front of the elevator doors. She slammed the button and waited with a string of vicious soft curses words.

The elevator was taking too long for her mission.

She turned with a sour frown and moved, slapping the exit door with a palm, moving down the exit steps and slammed the ground exit door to open with a grunt and a set of curse words.

She dashed to her sports car, stopping and stood, opening the door, sliding inside the driver's seat and cranked the cold engine, gunning the gas pedal like her husband tom.

The sports car drove out from the parking lot, squeaking a set of tires and producing a plume of white smoke, turning and racing down US Highway One to the new building without a police escort.

12:12 p.m.

City of Coral Gables

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Quartet Associates headquarters building

(nine miles southwest of Jace's office)

33rd floor business office suite setting

Conference room setting

Coral Gables was located one of South Florida's most privileged business and residential community which was lovingly nicknamed City Beautiful.

Quartet Associates was a five-acre plot of land which was located on the famous city street Miracle Mile, walking distance to one hundred thirty plus businesses, consisting of corporations, elegant shops, international restaurants, and art galleries. The thirty-three story office building sat in the heart of Coral Gables, Florida which offered 375,000 square feet of office suites, conference rooms, libraries, audio, and visual rooms, and three restaurants on the fourth floor, two basketball courts, three indoor track and fitness centers on the eighth floor.

The entire building was wired with a high-tech security camera system, an in-service money bank on the second floor, below street level parking garage with free car wash services too and a helicopter pad on the roof. The building offered each employed staff member a panoramic view of the Ponce de Leon grass park as far as the blue tinted waters of the Biscayne Bay, depending on the corner office at Quartet Associates.

The single tallest tower in the Gables displayed the finest imported earth elements of marble, granite, brass, wood work, and stained glass windows. The four mini pink granite water fountains shot water in the air at each geographical corner of the office building for fun, because fresh water was a hot premium in sizzling South Florida.

The private office suite of Austin suite ran the street length of north to south which was parallel to Miracle Mile. There were two undivided windows between a six foot walls which was painted in stark white on the east side. The west wall displayed a single office door with a two-way mirror that surrounded the vertical sides of the entrance door.

The vertical mirrors reflected any wandering friends or awaiting foes of Austin.

The northwest corner of Austin's space, a single white leather chaise lounge was crammed in the corner of two walls with a small side table, where Tom sat in his usual resting nook.

The southwest corner of Austin's space, two oversized white leather chairs sat between a long table, where Stu lounged on the left and Frank seat on the right which was diagonally from Austin's empty office desk. The north and south wall space was empty and devoid of books, wooden shelving, art paintings, and metal cabinets, holding only white paint which gleaned and glittered against the Florida sunshine from a nice bright morning sunrise.

The thirty-three story building held a set of four plush executive offices with a set of expensive French imported window panes, encasing the four Quartet assholes on Miracle Mile within the Coral Gables.

The fountain water sprayed up and over the pretty pastel flowers, buzzing the set of yellow bees, and the flat vanilla sidewalks, since fresh water was a costly premium in South Florida.

The sports car didn't bother to enter the underground parking lot at Quartet Associates, moving out of the hot sunny day. Instead, it slammed red tail lights and sorta swerved into a single parallel parking spot in front of the building and rested.

The door opened.

A pair of yellow and blue colored designer heels hit the pavement with a set of taps toward the glass doors of the building.

Quartet Tower building

Lobby and elevator setting

12:13 p.m.

The glass coated entrance door opened.

A tall female with a head of shoulder length red colored hair, and a pair of brown colored angry eyes moved through the quiet marble and golden tinted lobby space, flipping up a palm to the unknown team of QA guards with a set of hidden guns and the armed and cute information desk clerk girl with a fake smile, stopping and stood in front of the left set of elevator doors.

The left set of elevators would soar directly up and stop at penthouse executive office suites. Of course, no one else knew that fact but the information desk clerk and a few QA guards, since most people tended to veer to the set of middle doors over the wall of three elevators.

The doors opened.

Jane entered the elevator carriage without turning around with a sour frown, exhaling with fury, slapping the thirty-third floor button.

The doors closed. The carriage smoothly flew up from the ground floor to the thirty-third floor.

33rd floor lobby reception

12:15 p.m.

The carriage stopped. The door opened.

Jane spun around with a fake smile moving out the carriage with a cool timber and an upset stomach, turning with a nod to see the receptionist. "Madeline, how are you, sweetheart?"

"I am doing well, Janey. They are inside the smaller conference, eating lunch." Madeline nodded with a smile to the back spine on Jane without rudely finger pointing down the hallway.

Jane knew the proper conference room, having dined many times here with Tom and the other brotherly assholes.

"Thank you so much. Have a nice day, Madeline!" Jane yelled and marched down the familiar hallway, ignoring the new painted walls and the new set of art work, compliments of brotherly Frank. She turned and slammed open the door, entering unannounced in grand form, stopping and stood between the door and the conference room table with a sour frown and a grunt.

The heavy imported wooden door banged again the door stop and then slammed shut with a boom.

"Time to leave," Stu stood from his chair with a gasp and a worried brow, turning around to see Jane with his plate of delicious food.

Janey was still pissed, this morning as it was told this morning by Tom about last night's illegal police interrogation of Zara at the newly murdered dead girl's residential home by the Coral Gables police detectives. Now, she was here inside the Quartet Associate executive suite, specifically looking for Austin that meant only one thing.

If Tom was the bitch killer's lawyer, he would have already filed and arrested half of Coral Gables police force this morning from last night, even some of the smart ass street uniforms, who were prowling on Leonardo Street for more physical evidence. But Tom was not the attorney for criminal Zara.

Janey was a brilliant and licensed State of Florida lawyer. However, she had retired six years ago to become Mrs. Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third. She devoted her precious time to her precious charity project while spearheading the Florida Rights of Innocent Children. The Quartet Charity Foundation saved thousands of kids every day from a set of abusive blood and non-blood relatives. Therefore, Janey old honed criminal legal law skills were kinda weak, soured, and rusty.

No matter, Janey had elected to defend the newest enemy of Quartet Assholes. Zara Zenith was a former helicopter pilot, who had murdered in cold-blood eight of Austin's former girlfriends.

Stu had figured out that Janey had found out the injunction on Jace's ass. Since, Janey's next legal step would have been to administer the necessary medical tests on the dead girls which were his personal hint yesterday.

Jane jabbed a finger at Stu with a sour frown. "Sit!"

Stu continued to stand, planning to leave before all the eating plates were tossed at his big ass.

"Stu, sit back down," Austin smoothly ordered in baritone timber, twisting a nose profile to Stu and Janey. He politely wiped out the food stains from the lips and the jaw line, sitting at the head of the conference table like a British king and smirked like a Roman god.

Stu turned and sat at his assigned seat, obeying the real boss without eating the delicious food until the cat fight was done.

Jane sashayed with a sour frown, coming from the closed door and stopped at the corner of the square table, jabbing a purple painted colored fingernail at Austin. "You want a fight, mister. You're going to get a ginormous one. I'm going to figuratively beat the hell out of you, Berrington." She turned with a sneer to see each brother. "All of you, ass wipes."

Tom stood and turned, lifting and bowing his arms with a smile of love, "Jane, sweetheart."

Jane sneered. "Sit down, Tom!"

Austin commanded with a smooth baritone to Sawyer, staring at Janey. "Tom, please, calm your wife." Then he lifted and sipped the cup of chocolate milk.

Tom moved closer to Jane with a smile and a nod. "Let's go home, sweetheart, to finish our lunch together."

Jane turned and jabbed a hand to stop Tom with a confused brow. "How the hell did?" She shook her curls with a gasp and then a sneer. "I can't believe this. Did you spy on her, on me? Does the word justice not mean anything to you, four dipshits?" She shook her red colored curls with a growl.

Austin turned with a stern face and a smooth baritone to see the nose profile on Janey. "She killed them, all of them. You're blind, Janey. I suggest..."

Jane turned and jabbed a fingernail at Austin with a growl. "Fuck you, Austin! Take your shitty suggestion and shove it up your ass!"

"Jane, sweetheart," Tom moved to Jane with a smile and a nod.

"The girl is fucking innocent. I can prove it if you, four asswipes would stay clear of my gawd damn legal investigation." Jane turned and frowned at each brother who was sitting around the table with a plate of food.

"I didn't know Janey could curse like a sailor." Stu turned with a smile and a chuckle and stared at the back spine on Tom and the distorted face of Jane.

"Jane has a number of hidden talents." Tom bounced up and down with a smile and a chuckle too.

"Stow it, Tom!" Jane turned and growled at Tom.

Tom pursed his lips with a sissy whine toward his wife. "I'm not causing trouble, Jane, sweetheart." He told his three brothers that Jane could take care of herself, showing off her lovely survival skills right here inside headquarters in front of Badass Austin. But Tom had married Jane for her neurons and her beauty.

"Who gave the injunction to Jace?" Jane exhaled.

"Austin," Tom turned and smiled at the real boss of the Quartet.

"Fucking Austin Berrington! When does he know law, huh?" Jane turned and growled at the nose profile on Austin.

"Austin's the boss. I follow orders, ain't that right, Austin?" Tom turned and smiled at the face of Austin.

"Damn right! I'm the boss." Austin nodded with a smirk to Tom.

"Holy fucking shit! Ya'll really a quartet of total assholes." Jane turned and frowned at each brother.

"You taught Janey that cute little remark, Tom." Stu laughed at the back spine on Tom.

"She created it." Tom stood in place and nodded with a smile to Jane.

Jane gritted her teeth, scanning each brother with a sour frown and a matching tone, "Jokes, insults, laughter. Well, listen to yourself laugh this round, because you, four brothers will be laughing anymore." She turned and stopped. The door opened. Jane moved through the archway, turning and left the conference room and the office building.

Inside the conference room, "O! I guess no sex tonight for Thomas," Stu turned around with a huff of relief and stared down at the plate of cold food.

"Hell, yes." Tom spun around and dashed to his assigned seat, returning to the cold lunch meal.

Stu laughed, "Hell, no!" He continued to sit and eat, chewing, since Hurricane Janey had hit landfall while dissipating into no rain clouds, only vocal thunder. He swallowed the lump of food with a smile at Tom. "You ain't getting not sex tonight, Tom." He ate and chewed the cold food.

Tom mouth spat food particles over his plate and the table, shaking his skull. "After I saved Misty..."

"We all saved Misty, Tom." Frank shook his skull with a smile and a chuckle, eating his plate of cold food too.

"Looky, after Misty was rescued, Jane and I came to a marital understanding and agreement. We love and cherish each other until the day we die, then also in heaven." Tom chewed and swallowed the food with a grin and a nod to each brother.

"What the hell does that mean?" Stu frowned at Tom.

"We can fight and spit like alley cats during the day. But at night, I'm fucking king of my castle and she's my fucking queen whore." Tom nodded with a smile, reaching for the beverage.

"No fucking graphics, Tom." Frank frowned.

Stu frowned. "This murder case..."

"...is just business." Frank nodded.

"Business is business, but sex is sex." Tom wiped up the gravy with a roll and a laugh.

"Janey will do a very good job, but she will lose her first and only murder case, Tom." Austin lifted and sipped the cup of chocolate milk.

Tom turned and nodded to Austin with a chuckle and a smile. "Looky! I'll take her to Jamaica for the rest of summer. She'll forget all about this stupid case and the guilty girl."

The rest of the three brothers nodded with a smile, finishing up the lunch meal.

1:04 p.m.

City of Coral Beach

(six miles west of Quartet Associates)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Home location of Jane and Tom

Grand room setting

She parked the car, killing the engine after her visit to Quartet Associates in Coral Gables, sliding out of the car. The door closed. Jane moved away from the car and slammed the car door with a soft curse. She moved ahead towards the garage door, opening and slammed the house door shut with another soft curse, strolling away from the garage space, through the kitchen, and into the living room. She found and stopped in front of Gilbert with a smile and a nod. "Hello, Gilbert!"

Gilbert stood in place with a smile and a nod, "Jane, good early afternoon to you, also!"

Jane smiled. "Gilbert, please tell the staff and all their family members to pack for a trip for the rest of the month." She lifted up and presented a business card and a large stack of numerous plastic cards with an assortment of unused and available financial money balances. "Call this number! I'm giving all of you a paid vacation, all at the same time. Book trips, anywhere and everywhere. And charge to this bank account number on the business card. My accountant will pay for everything, including the food, the hotel, the hats, the fun gear, the beverages, and buy clothes there, too. Buy everything there at the hotel! Yes! Just buy everything you need there at the hotel shops. Don't even bother packing a suitcase, just go and leave, this afternoon. All the staff which includes every single one of you," smiling.

"Jane?" Gilbert accepted the plastic cards and business card with a gasp.

She reached out with a smile and patted the sleeve of Gilbert, who was a nice and obedience man-servant on Tom. "Enjoy your trip, Gilbert! You have earned it, living with my super inflated, selfish bossy egotistical husband."

Gilbert smiled with a nod. "Jane, thank you!"

Jane nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Gilbert! You and the other staff members are good people. You deserve a nice quiet vacation from Tom. Enjoy your trip! See you in a month and not before. Have a great time!"

"Thanks, boss." Gilbert scooted around Jane with a smile and a chuckle, dashing to the other side of the manor to inform all the servants of the Sawyer household that everyone was going on a paid fun vacation for one month by their employers Tom and Jane.

Jane stood in place with a smirk, looking down with a sour frown, pondering the next legal step.

Stage one was completed. Let us see how Tom lived without his precious man-servants and maids for a month!

Stage two was done. Frank will shit a brown turd twice inside a pair of his tailor-made beige-colored trousers, once the local travel agent had booked all the flights, hotel rooms, food stuffs, and clothing items for the entire house staff of the Sawyers. Jane had purchased the traveling credit cards from the travel agent while charging all money to Quartet Assholes for an entire house staff of twenty-seven plus spouses and children and maybe some cousins and grandmothers, getting the single account number from one of Frank's nice and mannered Quartet accountants on the twenty-ninth floor of Quartet Tower.

Stage three was incomplete. The medical tests of the dead bodies needed to be measured and recorded to find the true murderess, not Zara.

"Gawd! How do I accomplish that impossible feat without a physician that I can trust like Jace?" Jane wiggled side to side between the folds of the tight yellow colored designer skirt, sitting on top of the marble steps inside the foyer with a worried brow that led into the Florida room. She exhaled with a puff of frustration of a deflated girly ego. "Think here! You're smart, too. I need a doctor to examine the dead bodies. They're inside a morgue, not underground in coffins. Thank goodness for that!"

The unlocked and unsecured front door of the Sawyer castle slowly parted without a sound as she stood inside the crack with a smile and a yell. "Janey, are you home?"

"Misty, come in!" Jane turned with a smile and a hand wave, resting on top of the tiles, removing her shoes.

She proudly jiggled a pair of big breasts and a pair of long tanned legs underneath her teenager-length shorty short orange colored skirt hem. A pair of orange high heel summer sandals tapped inside the manor and as Misty Marie searched for Tom and stopped, squatting and resting with Janey on the floor for some strange reason in silence.

She was tall and athletic with a head of long black waist length hair, a pair of light brown eyeballs, and a tone of mint-colored skin. Gracie followed behind with a smile and a hand wave to Janey too. "Hey, girlfriend," She entered and stopped, squatting and sat on the tile floor on the other side of Janey, leaning over and giving a sisterly hug.

"Hey, Gracie. How are you doing, Misty?" Jane turned and smiled at her two Quartet sisters, accepting a hug and pulled back with a smile.

"I'm All right. What are you doing sitting on the floor, Janey?" Misty turned and scanned the room that was full of sitting furniture, not seeing any servants or movement or Tom.

"How is the court trial progressing, Janey?" Gracie leaned over and patted the arm of Janey with a smile.

"Stuck! Damn Austin! He sabotaged my medical tests. He tossed an injunction on Jace. Jace couldn't prick his own dick, without Austin's permission." Jane frowned while pondering her next legal move.

Gracie gasped with a nod. "Damn that man! Austin has got too much power, sisters. He thinks that he's a god."

"He is a fucking god on planet Earth. No one would ever cross him, not even the fucking President of the US of A." Jane exhaled.

Gracie giggled with a nod. "Well then, we will just have to bring him down a notch or four to our level of female."

Misty leaned over and fist-bumped with Gracie, nodding with a smile. "I like that idea, girlfriend. How do we, three accomplish that manly feat?"

Gracie frowned. "What do you need done, Janey?"

Jane exhaled. "I need all the dead girls examined for a particular potassium level along with a white blood count and some other minor laboratory medical tests. If the clinical number is consistent and fall within the same two-digit parameter reach of .008 spectrum, then I have a set of hard evidence within my murder case that all the girls were poisoned with the same mixture of liquid and not by Zara either."

Misty smiled. "A batch of medical lab tests, do you say?"

"Yes, Misty." Jane nodded.

"Well, I'm not a medical doctor. And I can't ask Frankie. He'll not help even if I cried. He thinks he's a demi-god next to Austin. But, I have money too like Frankie. We can all go to the Miami-Dade School of Medicine." Misty nodded with a smile of her secret information.

Jane turned and gasped at Misty. "We can?"

"Gawd! Yeah!" Gracie nodded with a smile.

"Do you mean that they would help me here?" Jane frowned.

"Did you know that Austin paid the Miami-Dade School of Medicine take Mouse's body down to their secret Quarter laboratory in Katt's legal murder trial?" Misty nodded with a smile.

"No." Jane gasped.

"Yes." Misty nodded.

"How did you know that information, Misty?" Gracie frowned.

"Frankie told me." Misty smiled.

"He did!" Gracie gasped.

"He tells me everything. But, I can't repeat everything." Misty nodded.

"Why are you repeating this information to us?" Jane frowned.

Misty exhaled with a nod. "This is to help Zara, not Frankie, not Stu, not Tom, and definitely not Austin."

"Right, girlfriend!" Gracie leaned over and fist-bumped with Misty with a grin and a giggle.

"So, we can pay the medical Interns money to conduct my specific secret laboratory tests on the murdered bodies." Jane said with a confused brow, since this was not her usual legal format, a first degree cold-blooded murder case.

"The Miami-Dade School of Medicine is a school for future medical physicians. They need money. They take money. They take checks, too." Misty smiled with a nod.

"How much do I offer?" Jane gasped.

"I would suggest five million dollars." Misty smiled.

"Agreed," Gracie nodded with a smile, "Do you want company, Janey?"

Jane turned with a stern face and a nod to see each sister. "Thanks for your offer! But I'm Zara's lawyer. You would look suspicious tagging along with me in an official murder case."

"Good luck, Janey! Call us, if you need help for anything." Misty stood upright from the step and squatted down to assist Janey to stand inside the business suit.

"What about our demi-gods?" Gracie stood upright from the step with a grin and a nod.

Jane stood upright from the step and wiped off some of the dust from the floor off her skirt with a smile, "Looky, ladies! Business is business, but sex is sex."

"Right, girlfriend! I fuck his ass tonight. Then, I sleep inside the guest bedroom with my horsies." Gracie nodded with a laugh with her sisters. Gracie and Misty back stepped and turned, leaving Janey inside the house alone to finish her legal work. They headed back home for the day.

2:07 p.m.

City of Miami

Hot temperatures with light rain showers

Miami-Dade School of Medicine

(two miles west from Coral Beach)

Reception lobby setting

The limousine parked inside the lonely parking lot in front of the administration building of the Miami-Dade School of Medicine.

The door opened.

Jane slid out of rear bench seating, running through a light rain storm without an umbrella, stopping and stood, grabbing the door handle as the chauffer closed the limousine door.

The front door of the building opened.

Jane entered into a plain dull gray painted of four walls without a set of windows inside the building, stopping and stood in front of an ancient desk with an elderly lady, feeling anxious, excited, and determined to accomplish her goal, defending her innocent client. She said with a smile and a nod. "I am very interested in making a donation to the Miami-Dade School of Medicine."

The ugly and elderly receptionist nodded with a smile back to Jane, reaching and pressed a button in silence.

A few seconds later, the side door along the wall opened.

The Miami-Dade School of Medicine administrator stood with a smile inside the archway, moving forward to Jane, extending a hand.

Jane turned and shook the pre-offered hand with a smile and a nod. "I must tell that the donor monies are for a private restricted use. The money must be used to examine a set of recently deceased females for the Zenith murder case only." She was holding her checkbook and had already written and torn out the check before arriving inside the reception area of the building. She presented and handed him the paper check with a smile. "This is my personal check for five million dollars. Will you be able to conduct the medical tests tomorrow?"

"Why wait?" The administrator accepted the check with a smile, looking down the large match number, side stepping and reached the telephone, lifting and dialed a number on the office landline telephone and talked with a soft whisper. He hung up the phone with a smile.

Jane smiled. "I'm pleasantly shocked and delighted."

The administrator turned and smiled at Jane. "Mrs. Sawyer, I know your husband. I was actually expecting a visit from him, not you. But I'm delighted to assist you in any way possible."

She smiled. "Well, in that case, I'm writing you another check for an additional five million dollars for the wonderful compliment and the swifter clinical service for my legal case." Jane leaned down and scribbled the numbers onto a second paper check, ripping off the check and handed to the administrator with a bigger smile.

He accepted the second check with a smile and a nod to Jane. "You're a very gracious lady, dear."

"My pleasure," Jane smiled.

The side door on the opposite side of the wall opened.

A set of three medical interns entered the lobby area on at a time, standing in a row in front of Jane and the office desk with the elderly receptionist and the administrator. They were a white laboratory coat with a grin and a nod to Jane and the administrator in silence.

The administrator nodded without pointing to the three physicians. "These three medical interns will assist you with the medical tests. They are ready and available for the work. It is an honor to meet you, Mrs. Sawyer. Please let me know if you need anything else."

Jane turned and nodded to each physician. "We can all get acquainted inside my cozy machine-drawn carriage, gentlemen, if you don't mind," she turned and strolled to the closed door.

The door opened.

Jane ran from the front entrance way of the building into the rear door of the limousine as the chauffeur held it open with an umbrella that covered his hair roots from the light rain.

Jane slid into the rear bench seating with the three medical interns.

Austin might have sabotaged her legal work with a set of injunctions that were stuffed up buttholes of numerous people but not the vehicles.

Jane had gotten both the limousines of Frank and Stu plus the driving staff members with a couple of nicely dictated commands from Misty and Gracie. The Band of Sisters had unloaded all cars and staff personal for Jane's usage in the leg and arm legal work for Zara.

The Quartet toys were shared by all the Coral Beach residents for free and unlimited use, so Jane had brought two more limousines with a complete set of electronic toys that had been donated by Stu, such like, voice recorders, paper notebooks, video camcorders, laptops, and other smaller equipment pieces for her medical investigation.

2:47 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

City morgue of Miami-Dade

(ten miles west of the university)

Autopsy room setting

The women's locker room was cold and dull in gray.

Jane moved and stood, meeting the male three medical interns at the wall intersection, coming from the women's locker room inside the city morgue. She wore a set of dark blue PPE gear (personal protection equipment), including a face mask, moving on a pair of blue booties that covered her designer shoes into a smelly cold and creepy autopsy room without sound.

The three medical interns were dressed in blue colored PPE gear too, turning and moving ahead of Jane, surrounding a dead body, since there were eight of them.

Jane turned and stood near the wall next to an empty metal gray-colored work desk, sitting inside a metal chair, watching the medical examination, taking written notes of the verbal exchanged between each physician and the medical procedure.

The lead medical intern was named Ralph Kingston. He stood at the first table, unzipped the black bag, reaching and stabbed the needle into the forearm of the deceased girl. "The first step is to gather the blood and skin samples from each dead person. Then we will start processing and counting the number of white bloods and the potassium levels as you stated for the medical tests."

The room was long and rectangular holding a row of eight black bags with a dead body.

Each physician worked on a body and then rotated around the room to next body, drilling, sawing, probing, and plucking an array of skin tissue, fingernails, hair strands, and blood samples from each dead body, collecting, labeling, and zipping the little clear plastic bags closed with each dead samples. They finished the medical work, standing in a huddle, dropping all the body specimens down inside a black case.

Kingston turned and moved, stopping and stood in front of the desk, wearing the PPE gear with the face mask. "We have completed the medical task and collected all the body samples, Mrs. Sawyer."

She stood from the chair with a nod and wore the face mask, holding the notebook and the pencil for some quick notes with a smile. "Call me, Jane, please."

"Jane, we need to drive back to the Miami-Dade sentential laboratory inside the School of Medicine building and finish conducting the specimen tests for these desired output results. All the body specimens are housed inside that bag." Kingston thumbed behind a collar bone at the black bag, still wearing the face mask.

Jane asked with intrigue. "May I come along?"

Kingston frowned inside the face mask as she couldn't see. "It will be about four hours of lab processing time. We want to re-test the results to be hundred percent certain, since this is a delicate murder case."

Jane nodded with a smile inside her face mask. "I promise not to get in the way. I would like to be there. I'm most interested in seeing the clinical process as well as reading your final medical report of the completed tests. Any other additional clinical data or tests you can perform, while I have you in my employment for the day."

"Well, this is a first time for us, too. Most of the time, the lawyers just want the final, final clinical report and then leave us and go to dinner." Kingston chuckled with the other interns.

Jane nodded with a smile inside her face mask. "I'm a very different lawyer. I'm hungry for all the data that you can feed me, until I puke," giggling.

He nodded with the face mask. "I'm very impressed, Jane. You have followed us into the cold creepy morgue and observed the body and blood collection process. And now, you want to come and see the clinical lab tests inside the spinning action."

"Yes, sir, I do. Please lead the way back toward the dressing rooms," Jane turned and moved, following behind the three interns.

The males entered the Men's Locker Room to undress from the PPE gear, leaving the city morgue for the warm sunshine and the limousine.

Jane moved and entered the Women's Locker Room disposing of the PPE gear, leaving the city morgue for the nice warm sunshine.

3:41 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Miami-Dade School of Medicine

Laboratory setting

Jane wore a set of orange colored PPE equipment without the face mask like the three medical interns, sitting behind an empty laboratory counter of dull gray, watching and studying the analysis work of the three medical Interns with patience and nervousness, tapping the pencil eraser over an empty page of the paper with a gloved hand. She didn't want to catch a germ and bring it home to Zara, since Tom was being an asshole about her first legal murder case.

The future physicians carefully removed each body specimen of eight dead girls from the clear plastic bag and then stain it with a colored liquid of purple. The purple stain was placed underneath a microscope at 1,000 times of magnificent, showing the enlarged ions of the blood smear.

Jane turned to see with a pair of untrained medical eyeballs a series of tiny colored wiggling lines and curves on a huge television plasma monitor screen from the computer of the microscope. The magnetized white blood cells were shaped sideways, looking like the alphabetic letter 'Y.'

"We have a completed and verified the tally of the specimens, Jane." Kingston looked down with a stern face, double checking the math results from each report from the other two medical interns. "Each girl has a consistent count range of potassium."

"Remarkable," the second medical intern studied the same lab report, comparing another alphabetic letter 'Y' that displayed on the computer monitor.

"Remarkable! It is completely astronomically impossible, unless each girl ingested the same substance at the same time on the same day with the same medical staff member present." The third medical intern shook a blue colored cap skull at the letter 'Y' on the plasma screen.

"That's my working theory, guys." Jane smiled with excitement while conducting her professionalism with calmness.

"So, do you believe that each deceased female had consumed the same amount of potassium pills?" Kingston turned and nodded to the second medical intern.

The second medical intern turned and shook a blue colored skull cap to Kingston, "Not likely a pill, I would suggest that it was more like a liquid. The liquid was indigestible type of raw potassium compound that was mixed with something to get this high rate of consistent consumption into a single human body."

"Potassium doesn't have a taste," the third medical intern turned and nodded to the other interns.

"Potassium is untraceable inside a biological body, since it is one of the major earth minerals for existing within a healthy life form, because the mineral potassium is everywhere." Kingston nodded.

"The level of potassium varies by a healthy person within a mineral measurement which is high, medium, or low levels which is usually based on the healthy person's diet mostly." The second medical intern turned and nodded to the other two interns.

"The potassium level hovers between 191.7 to 195.8 grams," the third medical intern nodded.

"For each girl?" Jane sat at the counter with a frown.

"Confirmed," Kingston turned and nodded to Jane. "It is the average with the range in all three laboratory reports for the eight dead bodies."

"How's that possible? Are there any other explanations, doctors?" Jane gasped.

"The drink had to be precisely measured with the same parts of water and the same part of potassium to get that constant consistency with very little varying degree in each dead girl." The third medical intern turned and nodded to Jane.

"I'm impressed. So do you think that a hospital nurse did this type of potassium murder, instead of my client who's a helicopter pilot without a set of clinical knowledge?" Jane nodded with a smile.

"Not a nurse," Kingston shook a blue colored skull cap, studying the samples of the specimens.

"Can you pick another job occupation that uses a high amount of this type of potassium compound?" Jane said.

"Or can any one person highly qualified by a trade talent to measure and mix a drink with these particular ingredients?" The second medical intern asked.

"Well, I need a new killer, guys, who is not my client. Do you have another idea rather than a helicopter pilot?" Jane frowned.

Kingston studied the three laboratory reports with a stern face. "Al the potassium salt levels average out at 193 grams."

The second medical intern nodded. "Potassium has many types of industry commercial usages."

"Not within the aircraft industry either, but potassium iodide is used in the fields of medicine, glassmaking, and farming fertilizers," the third medical intern nodded.

"Good, very good," Jane smiled with a nod.

"I have a suggestion for conducting a more thorough research within the potassium uses." Kingston flipped the pages of the science reference manual, reading out loud. "Photographic emulsion in chemical terms is a suspension of solid particles in a fluid state with an established usage within the fields of both photography and photographic science."

"Test for all potassium compounds used in photography." Jane ordered with the possibility of solving the mysterious medical murder of Austin's former flames.

The third medical intern typed on the computer, printing out a hard copy report, grabbing and read out loud. "Here is a list from the net, regarding any and all possible photographic chemicals. There are ten compounds from potassium bromide to potassium thiocyanate."

"Test each one," Jane looked down with a stern face, jotting down all the medical notes inside the notepad with the pencil for the murder trial of Zara.

"All right, we split into three work station, working on one of the potassium compounds. I will start mixing the compounds here at this work station," Kingston leaned over and pulled out more glass slides from the sterile tray.

4:44 p.m.

The second medical intern stood at his work station, mixing the compounds, saying with a stern face. "The term emulsion is used to reference products, such as, film and paper."

Kingston turned and grabbed the textbook, flipping the pages and stopped, reading out loud. "This is a college science book about photography hobby. The photographic emulsion consists of light-sensitive crystals in a gelatin form which is composed of potassium bromide, chloride, iodide, or a combination. The gelatin binds with the processing agents consisting of the developer, the fixer, and the toners into an aqueous solution which does not colloid with the crystals. The crystals are reduced by the developer to the color of black, forming an image of the negative. Photographic emulsion is made by adding drops of silver nitrate into the warm gelatin that contains potassium bromide. The reaction is called a suspension. The emulsion requires it to be washed, removing the byproducts, composed of potassium nitrate and excess salt."

"That explains the high salt content inside each dead body, the number averaged to 193 grams on the potassium stick from all eight dead females," the second medical intern worked on the potassium sticks at the counter.

Kingston said. "Correct."

"Bingo," the third medical intern stood at his work station with a smile and a nod.

"What have you found?" Kingston turned and shuffled to the third work station, stopped and stood next to the intern, holding the textbook, observing the reaction of the chemicals inside a test tube. Jane stood from the counter and back stepped from the chair, turning and dashed, standing next to Kingston out of the way but able to watch with her eyeballs too.

"Weak traces of potassium chloride are coming up inside the tube. Do you see the yellow lines inside the tube?" The third medical intern stood in front of the counter and pointed at the test tube with a smile.

Kingston looked down with a stern face and flipped the pages of the chemistry reference manual and stopped, reading out loud. "Potassium chloride (KCI) is a metal salt, composed of potassium and chlorine. The pure state is odorless."

"Explains the 'no' smell from the dead bodies," the second medical intern stood at his work station, fiddling with the test tubes with a chuckle and a smile.

"A white or colorless crystal," Kingston read out loud from the textbook.

"That non-visual appearance of white would not change the chemistry inside that particular liquid mixture of that presumed beverage that each girl consumed, during the moment of their death," the second medical intern said.

"KCI is used as fertilizers in farming, in the science of healing medicine, in food for processing, and in a judicial execution through a single lethal injection," Kingston read out loud from the chemistry book.

"Touché," the second Medical intern chuckled.

Kingston read out loud from the textbook. "Listen to this, KCI in powdered form puts out a lilac-colored flame test result."

"I am starting that experiment over here," the second medical-intern stood in front of the counter, holding a single test tube in the air, beginning the process of heating the potassium chloride.

"Kept reading the material, Kingston, maybe we can pinpoint more testing sources of KCI," the third medical intern ordered, working with the second one on the five flame tests of eight dead girls.

Kingston read out loud from the textbook. "Potassium chloride occurs naturally on planet Earth as sylvite. Sylvite is extracted from salt water and then manufactured by a crystallization process from electrostatic."

"Do you think the murderer used salt water from the Atlantic Ocean? Since salt water is another naturally occurring element on planet Earth too." The second medical intern asked.

"Doubt it," the third medical intern carefully mixed by hand the potassium compound into the test tube. "Salt water tastes horrible. It the murderer mixed that into a drink, the victim would have puke it up and lived, not drunk it and died."

Kingston read out loud from the textbook, "Sylvite is a by-product of potassium nitrate."

"All the information keeps coming back to the photography angle," the third medical intern worked with the chemicals.

Kingston read out loud from the textbook. "I agree, too. And potassium nitrate is used in fertilizers, medicines, lethal injections, a sodium-free substitute for table salt, and household water softeners..."

"Geez," the third medical intern frowned, "Table salt and lethal injection are used in the same sentence. I think that I will stay away from table salt for a while," chuckling.

Kingston read out loud from the textbook. "Potassium nitrate is used as a fire extinguishing agent for a fire extinguisher, flux for gas welding of aluminum, and last but not least, KCI is used as a beta radiation source for the calibration of radiation monitoring equipment, since it contains 0.0118 percent of an isotope."

"Radiation!" The second medical intern frowned.

"It becomes a radiated state with the right ingredients and temperature, Peter, so don't sweat out ant hills." Kingston laughed.

"I'm going out on a limb like a blue jay here, since I wear blue PPE gear. But the murderer knows exactly what he or she or its doing, Jane. Man, I hope you got some extra body guards hiding inside the rear of your limo. Since, I do believe that you are very close to solving the medical messy mystery," the second medical intern worked with the flame underneath the test tubes.

"I agree, definitely," the third medical intern worked with another compound at the work station.

"Potassium is a vital enzyme within a human body. Medically speaking, potassium chloride is used in the treatment of hypokalemia and digitalis poisoning, as well as, an electrolyte replenisher. An overdose will cause hyperkalemia, leading to paresthesia, cardiac conduction blocks, fibrillation, arrhythmias, and sclerosis. The more common clinical presentations are nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and bleeding of the digestive tract." Kingston read out loud from the textbook.

The third medical intern said. "Did any of the eight autopsy reports reveal any of these particular clinical symptoms, Jane?"

The second medical intern turned and lifted a stack of death autopsy reports in paper form, reading with a set of trained medical eyeballs, where the reports had been provided by Jane during the ride to the Miami-Dade city morgue. He shook a blue cap, scanning the paper reports, "None. I read, re-read, again re-read these eight death reports."

"That's odd." The third medical intern worked with the compound with a frown.

The second medical intern read the report. "All the deaths are listed as a cardiac arrest on each death certificate."

"That's still very odd," the second medical intern worked on the compound testing.

Kingston read out loud from the textbook. "The lethal effect by lethal injection for large amounts of KCI into a patient causes the heart to stop functioning, right after a coma. In the foreign country of Germany, physicians there use KCI as a suicide aid."

"Whoa!" The third medical intern stirred the liquid contents for the next test.

"A clue?" The second medical intern held up the test tube in the air.

"A very big clue," Kingston scanned the book for more information to share with the medical team.

"I will be damned. Come here and look at the color of the flame," the second medical intern back stepped from his work station, jabbing a gloved hand at the buddy burner with the chemistry test.

The second medical intern turned and smiled at the flame, "That has to be the prettiest lilac, I've ever seen with my acute eyeballs."

"Prettier than God's rainbow," Jane turned and smiled at the burning flame, since she had solved the crime without the Quartet Assholes and their Quartet resources, but with the Quartet monies.

The second medical intern turned with a nod and a smile to perform a gloved fist bump with the second intern, "Confirmed, Jane. Potassium chloride is present within all eight dead female bodies."

Kingston read out loud from the textbook. "Orally, if KCI is toxic in excess, meaning if a person, weighting about 165 pounds, consumes six point seven ounces or about 190 grams of potassium chloride, then the result can cause cardiac arrest and then rapid death, immediately."

"The salt measure is 193 grams," the second medical intern nodded, "this is a double confirmation, Jane. Potassium chloride is the deadly killing chemical of the all eight female deaths, Jane."

"Yes." Jane tossed a gloved hand with a smile and a nod.

"Is your client a photographer, Jane?" Kingston turned with a stern face to see Jane.

Jane shook her red colored curls, watching the pretty lilac flame glow like a victory torch, "No, she is a karate expert."

"Really, that has nothing to do with KCI and toxins." Kingston laughed.

Jane smiled. "Gentlemen, what is your official professional medical opinion of this new discovery of the chemical reaction inside the laboratory setting?"

"The murderer is a professional or an amateur photographer, who has access to potassium chemical compounds. And that individual had been administered the chemical through a liquid which had been ingested by each female victim. They all died within seconds of consuming the toxin liquid, appearing invisible within a drinking beverage." Kingston said.

"Will each one of you care to be a medical expert in a court of law for my murder case?" Jane turned and scanned each face.

"Does the job pay monies?" The second medical intern spun around with a smile to see Jane.

"Yes." Jane nodded with a smile to each face.

"Is that legal, Jane?" Kingston frowned.

"Very legal and very nice," Jane nodded with a smile.

"I'm your man just write me a check," the third medical intern spun around and slapped a chest with a chuckle and a smile. Then the other two medical interns slapped a chest with a nod in silence too.

"Thank you, future doctors of medicine. You have saved an innocent girl from a lethal injection inside a chair in Tallahassee." Jane smiled with a nod, slapping the note book to her chest.

7:58 p.m.

Hot temperatures with yellow and pink sunset

City of Coral Gables

(twelve miles southeast of the city morgue)

Home location of Jane and Tom

Kitchen room setting

Jane returned home from the Miami-Dade School of Medicine laboratory after talking in great length with the three talented medical interns about the completely laboratory results, documenting the medical tests for hard evidence of innocence of Zara.

Jane drove home slowly and finally pulled the sports car into the six-car garage of her home.

The garage door opened.

Tom stood inside the archway with a worried brow and a sissy whine, wearing a new pair of white walking shorts, a green colored new knit shirt, and a pair of naked feet, since he would never yell at his loving wife. "Sweetheart, where in the hell have you been? I called you on the cell numerous times. You don't answer your cell, sweetheart. It is eight at night and you are all alone, by yourself. I was worried sick. Are you hurt? Do you the doctoring skills of asshole Frank? You need a set of body guards, sweetheart. You need protection from the crim-animals of Miami. I am assigning a team of body guards with you, tomorrow morning at six or seven or eight o'clock." He reached out and missed the body of Jane.

Jane scooted around Tom, moving inside the black and white colored kitchen. She was too exhausted to yell at Tom, saying with a sour frown, seeing Zara. "I don't want any of your fucking spies spying on me and my legal work, Tom, sweetheart. You knew the entire time where I was. I am working on saving my client from the hell, fire, and brim storm that Austin and you created for me." Tom turned and approached Jane from the back spine, reaching out and gently touched her collar bone with a hand. Jane spun around with a sour frown and a growl. "Don't touch me! I'll report you for rape, Tom."

Tom back stepped from her, raising both palms with a worried brow. "Jeezus, I am your loving husband, Jane. We have been happily married for the past six years. I love you, Jane. Please calm down, sweetheart." He scooted to the side of Jane, moving forward, stopping and stood, pulling out a chair for his wife with a smile and a nod of forgiveness.

Jane swung around with a sour frown and moved forward, stopping and stood, dropping the briefcase inside the pre-offered chair, instead of her tired ass with a sour tone to Tom. "Really, I have a plot of blue colored fertile land inside the Everglades to sell you, boy." She laughed.

Tom stood in place, nodding with a smile, waving his arms with love at her. "Jane, sweetheart, I can see that you are tired and hungry. So I can fix us dinner. And I can rub your feet. I can massage..."

Jane spun around from Tom and moved, stopping and stood, pulling out an empty chair and sat, removing her shoes. "I am famished, tired, pissed, but joyful."

"Joyful? Why are you joyful, Jane sweetheart?" Tom frowned.

"Not for you, Tom, sweetheart," Jane turned and smiled at the back spine on Zara.

Zara stood on a pair of naked feet inside the cold refrigerator unit, looking for food, since she was hungry and mad. Tom had been insulting and cracking a series of sick jokes about her flying helicopter skills while inquiring about her biological father.

Jane smiled at the back spine on Zara. "Zara, I have wonderful news."

Zara exhaled with a puff of annoyance, looking for one single food item inside an empty refrigerator unit. "What wonderful news, Jane? I need some cheering up."

"Jane, where are the house staff members?" Tom moved and stopped, standing in front of Jane, blocking out the body of Zara with a puzzled brow, sipping on the bourbon and strawberry mixture.

"Did I forget to tell you, pumpkin butt?" Jane turned and smiled at Tom.

"Pumpkin butt..." Zara stood inside the refrigerator with a giggle and a grin.

"Tell me what, sweetheart?" Tom frowned, since Jane ran the house and his life when Austin was not doing it at Quartet Associates.

"I gave our house staff a vacation for the rest of the calendar month." Jane smiled with a nod, rubbing her arching feet.

Tom gasped. "Shit, you give our house staff the rest of the month off from working inside our house?"

"Yes, sweetheart, the house staff is not here to work inside our home. They have the rest of the month for a vacation." Jane smiled.

"Did they take the food?" Zara snorted with a giggle.

Tom turned and scanned the room, not seeing any members of his house staff upon entering the mansion, "The entire staff?"

Jane smiled. "The entire staff, do you approve, Tom, sweetheart?"

"Jane," Tom turned and frowned at Jane.

"Do you approve, my pumpkin-butt?" Jane giggled.

"Jane," Tom frowned.

Jane smiled. "Good, we are in agreement, correct, Tom, sweetheart?"

"Correct, Jane." Tom exhaled with a huff of acceptance, since he respected and loved her.

Zara back stepped and pointed at the refrigerator with a sour frown. "I really hate to interrupt the love feast but there is no food in here."

"Order something, Tom!" Jane stood and gathered her personal items.

"Pizza. Okay, Jane sweetheart." Tom reached and pulled out his mobile telephone with a smile, dialing the familiar number, since he and Jane enjoyed eating two double meat and cheese extra-large pizzas for dinner sometimes.

"Yes." Jane turned and moved to the open archway that led to the staircase. "Zara, what kind of pizza do you want?"

"Order double cheese for me," Zara closed the refrigerator door and swung around with a smile, moving to the cabinets.

"Ya got some fingers," Tom lifted the phone with a sour frown, listening to the ring tone.

"Now, Tom!" Jane yelled inside the hallway.

The phone connected to the pizza place with a strange voice of a female. "Yes, sweetheart," Tom whispered with a sour frown all the pizza orders on his mobile telephone. Jane moved to her room to change clothes. Zara stopped and stood, grabbing a set of dishes to make a pretty table for the food inside the dining room.

Dining room table setting

8:40 p.m.

The second gate pair of sentry guards had delivered four boxes of pizzas at the home of Jane and Tom. Tom had answered the door and collected the boxes, moving into the dining room, listening to the accomplishment for her work day of lawyering.

Jane nodded with a smile, sitting at naked dining room table, "Your theory was correct, Zara."

Tom stopped and stood next to Jane while spreading the boxes over the naked dining room table, opening up his pizza box and helped him mouth to three slices of pepperoni, without using a plate, a fork or a napkin just a pair of two naked hands and a set of ten finger pads like a caveman heathen.

"My theory?" Zara stood and leaned over, grabbing one of the pizza boxes, reaching and lifted out two pizza slices with a fork and a knife, sitting down to cut up the food.

Jane stood and leaned over, grabbing one of the pizza boxes, reaching and lifted out one slice of pizza with a fork and a knife, sitting down and cutting up the food. "Your theory was correct, Zara. Each girl died of some type of potassium chloride poison which was ingested into a biological system through a mixture of liquid and consumed by mouth." Jane explains.

"Each girl!" Zara chewed the pizza.

"Every girl," Jane nodded then chewed and swallowed the food. "I will get the FBI laboratory to confirm the medical clinical laboratory findings with all eight bodies tomorrow. Then you will be free and clear of all stated murder one capital crimes. The potassium abnormal range was high and consistent for each girl, because of the consumed poison."

"I remembered seeing a varied range of 190 to 197 on one of the laboratory report that averaged around the 193 range." Zara chewed the pizza.

"The minimum lethal dosage for murdering people is 190 grams of potassium chloride." Jane smiled.

Tom chewed and swallowed the lump whole, standing at the table with a sour frown, "Holy fucking shit, are you kidding with Zara, Jane?"

Jane exhaled. "I don't joke about the death penalty, Tom." She ate the food, chewing.

"Where did you get the cyanide from, Zara?" Tom turned and chewed at Zara.

Jane chewed and swallowed with a sour frown. "The real killer is a photographer, Tom. The ingredient is used to develop the negative prints into film."

"Is that another gifted hobby, Zara?" Tom mouth spat food particles with a chuckle and a smile, flying over the box and the tablecloth.

"I don't take pictures." Zara chewed the food.

"Tom, stop it!" Jane exhaled with a puff of annoyance with her husband.

He mumbled with food inside an open mouth to Jane. "Just asking the same questions from the prosecution..."

Jane chewed and swallowed, looking with a smile at her client. "Ignore him, Zara. Tom likes to play devil's advocate, just to see if you get mad."

"Copy." Zara winked at Tom.

Tom hissed and mouth spat more food particles across the box and the nice tablecloth.

"By the way, sweetheart, she doesn't get mad, not once, not ever. Zara is very calm and cool cat like you, sweetheart." Jane ate the food, chewing.

Zara chewed and swallowed the food with a grin. "I'm a pilot as in a rescue pilot that flies over one hundred and sixty miles-per-hour through the air waves. I have to be in control before during and after the moment or the copter will crash and burn with me in it." She ate the food, chewing.

"Touché," Jane smiled.

"Thank you." Zara smiled with a mumble of food particles.

"Cool bitch!" Tom mumbled underneath a sour breath.

"I heard that." Zara smiled at Tom.

"Do you possess a pair of bionic eyes and ears?" Tom frowned, eating more pizza.

"Definitely! I enjoyed watching the same old and ancient re-runs of the bionic male and the female. They are my heroes." Zara smiled.

Tom chewed and swallowed with a sour frown. "Little shit!"

Zara exhaled. "That is better than being a big shit like Austin Berrington."

Jane mouth spat food particles with a laugh." Good one, I have to remember that."

"Careful, little lady, I might tell." Tom mouth spat food particles with a laugh.

Zara exhaled with a nod. "Go ahead, sir! The son of bitch is asking for trouble with his arrogant disposition, smudge smile, and flamboyant style."

Tom gasped. "Are you threatening, Austin?"

"I'm merely pointing out all the genetic flaws within his conceited personality, which sooner or later bites back any and all bad asses." Zara laughed.

"I will remember to mention that to him, Zara." Tom frowned.

"Do that, also? I believe that everyone is missing the point of the murders." Zara exhaled.

"Do tell?" Tom nodded, wanting to hear more lies, eating the pizza.

Zara nodded. "Each girl was wined and dined by only one man, who was Austin Berrington. Someone is after him, not me, no you, not Jane, not the rest of the Quartet."

Tom frowned. "Each girl had other lovers, not just Austin."

"My sharp point which is not being hammered into your dull brain is that Austin is the common denominator of each girl, here." Zara exhaled.

"Zara is correct, Tom. Austin is the common denominator factor but not the murderer here." Jane chewed and swallowed the food with a nod.

"So, fairy princess, tell me who is the evil and pretty sorceress here inside the fairy tale story?" Tom frowned.

"I don't know. Someone that is close to Austin. Who knows him?" Zara nodded.

"You," Tom giggled with a grin.

"I don't know the arrogant male. I saw him the first time in my life when I was arrested at my work station in Ruby Beach." Zara frowned.

"Testy tonight, showing your guilt, Zara?" Tom mouth spat his food particles with a laugh and a nod, flying them over the box and the tablecloth.

"Manners, Tom." Jane frowned then smiled. "Zara's correct. Someone has killed all those girls to get Austin's attention. Now, he really is the one in danger here. Don't you think that you should call your brother and warn him, sweetheart?"

"Why don't you show some family love, Jane?" Tom turned and frowned at Jane.

Jane frowned. "I'm mad at him. He doesn't deserve my virgin spit."

"Some caring sis, you are?" Tom frowned.

"I care about all my brothers and sisters, but Austin started the war with a capital letter W. He needs to surrender to me, personally on his kneecaps." Jane giggled with a nod.

Tom gasped. "Austin surrender, he will die first."

"That's my point exactly." Zara nodded.

Jane said. "I am taking the new hard laboratory evidence to the district attorney's office first thing tomorrow after the new medical reports are expressed mailed to the offices of the FBI and the police station directly to Chief of Police Trilling. You will be cleared by lunch time. I promise."

Zara nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Jane. I'm so grateful for your emotional support and legal investigative hard work. I'm so sorry about the ten million you lost on me for my bail money and..."

"Forget it." Jane smiled. "Tom paid, not I."

Tom stopped eating, turning to see Jane and dropped open a mouth of food. "What the fuck are you talking about, Jane?"

"I used our shared personal bank account for the electronic transfer, pumpkin butt?" Jane winked at Zara. Zara giggled.

Tom held the half-eaten pizza between his hands with a gasp and a grunt. "Fuck, you do not, Jane?"

"I did, Tom. Check it?" Jane smiled.

"Fuck." Tom continued to hold the half-eaten pizza between his hands.

"I will be very certain to mention your contribution to Zara's case to Austin tomorrow at the courthouse during the evidentiary new discovery like a real criminal lawyer." Jane smiled.

"Holy fucking shit, Jane, how could you? Ya cheated on me." Tom held the half-eaten pizza slice between his hands with a sour frown.

Jane smiled. "I love you, Tom. You had erred, here. Now, I have corrected that error, sweetheart."

Tom stared with an open mouth of drooling food particles at his wife, since he was mentally pissed that she had used their joint bank account. Austin was going shit a brick when he found out that Tom had indirectly helped the bitch killer get away with the crime of eight freshly dead former flames. He moaned with sissy whine, "Fuck, Jane."

Jane stood and back stepped from the table, moving and stopped, standing and leaned down to kiss his food stained face, whispering with a wink, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart."

Tom back stepped and tossed the half-eaten pizza over the tablecloth with a sour frown and a matching tone. "Bed, fuck me! You expect me to fuck you after losing ten million of my dollars to that bitch killer over there." Zara sat inside the dining room with a giggle and a grin, sipping the beverage. He back stepped into the dining room chair, turning and kicked the furniture item into the wall paint with a sour frown, shaking his bangs, yelling with a string of elegant curses. He moved and entered the kitchen, stopping and stood in front of the refrigerator.

The door opened.

He reached inside and grabbed a cold beer, back stepping and turned, marching into the Florida room, numbing a frustrated mind at his loving wife.

"Tom?" Jane turned and moved through the open archway, heading up the fourth floor shared master bedroom with a smile.

Tom entered the room and reached, snatching the blanket from the long sofa that Zara had used and stopped, standing in front of the musical radio stereo, slapping the circular dial on the radio.

The dial spun and stopped, landing on a country western song.

He back stepped and turned with a sour frown, moving and stopped, swinging around and sat inside his favorite recliner chair. He lifted and gulped down half of the cold beer, pressing a numb skull against the satiny pillows, closing his eyelids from Jane's revenge as his mind drifted into unconsciousness with the soft country western music.

Two years ago

City of Deadwood in US State of South Dakota

(2,213 miles northwest of Coral Beach, Florida)

Hot temperatures with windy southern winds with sun

11:11 a.m.

North US Highway 90 Limousine ride of the Quartet

Interior cabin setting

The Quartet rode inside a black colored limousine from the airport in the city of Sturgis in the great US State of South Dakota.

"The Missouri River is the state..." Stu read out loud from his laptop to the Quartet.

Tom dropped the new science fiction book Intragalaxy First author Ela from a puzzled brow as his eyeballs turned and stared out a dark tinted limo window with the moving strange landscape. He wore a new black pin-striped business suit with a new pair of black colored leathers, a red, black, green, and purple vertical stripped bowtie. "We are located inside the US State of Missouri. I thought the land was flat, not fluffy like my cook's breakfast pancakes," giggling.

Frank sat beside Tom, staring with a smile at Austin, wearing a pair of tan colored trousers, a navy blue sporting jacket with a baby blue dress shirt, and a long necktie of mint green, dark green, and emerald green colors of zigzagging lines.

Austin smirked at silly Tom, wearing a black colored sports jacket, a white turtleneck shirt, a pair of white trousers with a pair of black colored leathers.

Stu looked down with a sour frown to see his designer wrist watch and then Tom, wearing a light brown colored business suit with a coral tinted dress shirt and a matching thirteen carat coral seashell that was designed as neck pin. "South Dakota, Tom, we landed the jet in the city of Sturgis with a population of 6,600. The western city is named after the famous general Samuel D. Sturgis. We left approximately forty-two minutes and six seconds ago and then boarded this limo. We have passed the famous city of Deadwood, rolling over Highway 90 toward the Deadbeats Cowgirl and Cowboy Resort which is located in Deadbeats City to meet our new QA client and sign a QA legal contract..."

"To work, Tom," Frank turned and chuckled at silly Tom.

The Quartet usually flew a new client down into the Miami International Airport with an awaiting Quartet limousine for the business ride into Quartet Associates headquarters building on the famous Miracle Mile within the city of Coral Gables inside the US State of Florida for fun, sun and then done. Once the legal contract was signed and filed quietly and quickly, the party celebration began on the greenish-blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

"O." Tom lifted the book, hiding a face, reading the next sentence.

Stu parted his lips with a grunt, slamming the laptop lid shut, leaning over to attack Tom.

Austin lifted and slammed an arm into the massive chest of Stu, signaling the command of no fighting inside the limousine, specifically against Tom.

Stu shoved the arm of Austin from his chest and exhaled numerous times, counting mentally from one to ten. He exhaled numerous times, counting mentally from eleven to twenty, looking down with a stern face and opened the laptop, finding the spot inside his reading material, "The Missouri River, the State of South Dakota's most important river. Most of the State's lakes were formed during the Ice Age. The Black Hills land regions are composed of a group of low isolated mountains which are located within west central South Dakota."

Tom dropped the novel again with a giggle and a grin, staring at the bald skull of Stu. "I know in Deadwood, dead and woods. Are there snakes here?"

Frank smiled. "Poisonous."

"In the dead woods?" Tom turned and frowned at Frank.

Frank smiled at Tom, "Very poisonous, deadly as a matter of fact."

"Fuck you, Frank." Tom lifted the novel, hiding a sour frown, reading the next sentence.

Stu read out loud from the laptop with a stern face. "The region has deep canyons, towering rock formations, thick forests of tall pines, spruces, and other trees and rich minerals. One of the most popular minerals is gold."

Tom dropped the novel again, staring at the bald skull of Stu with a grin and a giggle. "Gold, we're going gold hunting. I'll be richer."

Stu looked up with a sour frown to see Sawyer. "Richer ain't a word, Tom."

Frank smiled, "Gold rush, Tom!" Then he turned and frowned to Berrington. "Tom, he actually tested at a higher IQ than me." Austin chuckled at the snapping pups.

Stu looked down with a stern face too read the laptop. "Gold is located within the Black Hills that was discovered in the year 1874 by Lieutenant Colonel George A. Custer."

Tom reached and pulled out his mobile telephone, tapping and read out loud from the tiny screen after accessing the internet with a smile and a nod. "Rich is a noun. Richer is an adjective as in richer, richest. That's us, the richest assholes on planet Earth," laughing.

Stu continued to read from the laptop for the prepared encounter. "The Badlands are located within the Great Plains, where the wind and water have worn the soft rocks into a series of steep hills and a valley of deep gullies. About ten million people visit the famous Black Hills and Badlands, each year. See also the herd of buffaloes inside the Custer State Park for more references."

"Deadwood, the historic mining town of quick fortunes and illegal guns boomed after the 1876 gold strike. Wild Bill got shot while playing cards in a poker game there." Tom read out loud from the tiny screen of his mobile telephone, finishing part of the internet history electronic lecture and looked up with a confused brow to see Stu. "What's a gully?"

"To work, boys," Frank chuckled with humor. Austin grinned with amusement. Stu fumed with fury.

The limousine slowed and then halted inside the parking lot of the new business client, the Deadbeat Cowgirl and Cowboy Resort.

The door was opened by a tough-faced driver.

11:43 a.m.

City of Deadbeats City within US State South Dakota

(25 miles west of Sturgis)

Warm temperatures and clear blue skies with bright sunshine

Deadbeats Cowgirl and Cowboy Resort

Saloon building setting

A set of four tall bodies slid out from the bench seating of the limousine, standing upright in the flat sand and admired the beautiful baby blue skyline and a row of squat colorful structures in front of the eyeballs.

A two-story bright yellow colored wooden building held a set of half-way slanted doors, swinging side to side with the windy breeze. The words were in bright red paint: Saloon.

There were a row of other peacock-colored squat and taller wooden buildings on the right of the Saloon. The words were painted in Hotel, Barber, Bath, Store, Guns, flowing across the attic portion of the colorful wooden planks.

A single red colored cloth horse wagon with a shiny iron hitch minus a live horse blocked a set of saloon windows on the south side of building. Between each wooden painted building, there was a charming garden of tan colored flat sand and short and tall prickly green cactus plants.

A set of swinging half door pushed out from the Saloon building, revealing a tall dude underneath a famous ten-gallon white colored cowboy hat with a red colored band. The cowboy hat covered the hair roots down to the eyebrows. The dude wore a three-piece old style white wool suit with a buttoned vest, glancing with a pair of narrowed eyelids at the Quartet with keen interest. Then he reached and pulled out a golden pocket watch from the left vest, studying the rotating hands of the ancient clock. He looked up with a stern face to see blue skyline and the Quartet with a smile, motioning with a hand into the saloon.

"This is really weird." Stu leaned over with a stern face and a whisper into the ear of Austin as his eyelids darted around the landscape for an ambush of cowboys and Indians.

Tom stood beside Frank, bouncing up and down with excitement and a smile, jabbing a finger at the tall dude. "He's a real cowboy of the real US West. This is really awesome, Stu. Yahoo!" He moved ahead, skipping across the sand first with a smile and a nod to the unknown dude.

Austin and Stu moved ahead together, stomping up the wooden planks with caution in silence.

"To work, brothers!" Frank moved ahead from the limousine with a smile and a chuckle behind the back spines of Austin and Stu.

Tom entered the interior of the saloon first, shuffling a black business suit sideways inside the swinging doors for Austin to meet and greet the new Quartet Associates client first as the boss.

The interior of the saloon was decorated with a semi-circular beverage bar counter on the right side of the long wall without a bar attendant. A grand baby piano hugged the west of the wall with a weird fresh floral arrangement of yellow daisies and green cactus plants on top of the black top.

Austin entered and stopped, standing in the middle of the open room as the rest of the Quartet moved and stood in a row next to him. Austin stared down at the bottom step of a central wooden staircase, following it up to the top level of the second floor which contained the sleeping quarters for the guests.

The activity rooms were used and occupied by the mentally and physically active and non-active guests. The guests were really a group of highly paid and entertained patients that lived and rested inside a fake Wild, Wild West theme park which was a really medical approved and certified exclusive rehabilitation resort within the US State of South Dakota. The rehabilitation clinic was ironically called Deadbeats Cowgirl and Cowboy Resort.

The middle of an open room displayed an oval wooden light pine table, holding a set of twelve chairs, where one of the many poker game marathons was held as it was tattled from the printed published brochure and a set of moving lips of vicious gossip about the secretive exclusive millionaire favored medical resort.

The southeast wall corner dropped down and sunk one foot down into an open pit off the main floor. It was filled with live and crawling brown spiders, red snakes, and yellow scorpions as the wildlife fought, bit and stung each other to death over the red rocks, brown sand, and green cacti.

"Howdy dew, Austin, Stu, Frank, Tom! Heck fire, my simple honor to shake the paws of the most wanted cowboys in the east, who are named as the Quartet Assholes." He chuckled as a silver dollar bolo neck tie jumped up and down on the white dress shirt. He moved and stood in front of Austin first, extending a hand with a smile and a nod.

"Thank you." Austin shook the hand with a smile and a nod with the weird ass new QA clientele.

"Red," the dude slammed a hand into the bicep on Austin, shaking the hand of Austin and then released the body parts of Austin. Red turned and pointed at each family member with a smile and a nod. The other family members were seated around the poker table in silence without smiles, wearing a white business suit or a skirt. The male wore a white colored tall cowboy hat with the blue cross band. Red said. "Blue." The young pretty female wore a red colored saloon girl costume with a feathered cap and a pair of red colored high heels. Red said, "Madam." The second male was dressed in a white cowboy hat with a white colored cross-band Red said, "Calico." Red turned and side stepped with a smile and a hand offer to Frank.

Tom leaned over with a giggle and a whisper into the eardrum on Stu. "Calico, I thought calico was a type of feline and always a female sex, not a male. Calico ain't a color, is it either, Stu?"

"Calico is definitely not a color, Tom." Stu whispered with a stern face into the eardrum on Tom, shoving Sawyer toward the poker table that contained a new set of weird-ass Quartet Associates clients.

"Red, Blue, Calico, Madam, nice to meet all of you." Frank extended and shook the hand of Red as the other new weird-ass QA clients did not stand or offer a handshake to the Quartet.

Red moved down the row of Quartet, shaking each hand and turned with a smile, moving back to the poker table.

"Where's Heath?" Tom stood in place with a grin and a giggle, staring at the new weird-ass QA clients. Stu had been assigned babysitting for the day, shoving Tom forward to the poker table.

"Ma," Red turned and stopped in front of an empty chair, pointing to the queen-sized female figure that hid underneath a black colored cowgirl hat with a white band, not seeing her hair roots down to her eyebrows as she did not smile either to the Quartet.

Tom moved ahead and stopped with a smile. "What, no Pa?" He stood in place again with a laugh and a grin, scanning the weird as QA clients.

Austin side stepped and stood behind the ass on Tom. "Find a chair, Tom." He shoved the back spine on Sawyer toward the poker table.

"Business, before playtime, boys! Comes over here, doggies! Sign our protection papers. Each one of ya'll as requirement by Ma." Red pulled out the chair, sitting and slapped the table surface with both hands and a laugh, pointing at a collected stack of white papers on top of the poker table.

"Shore thing! Where do I sign, Red?" Tom skipped ahead and stood in front of the first empty padded chair.

"Tom!" Austin quickly shuffled behind the ass on Tom, turning with a sour frown to see a set of wandering brothers Frank and Stu, thinking that Austin should have self-elected himself as the babysitter for Tom, instead of Stu. He moved and stopped, sitting inside an empty chair at the poker table.

Stu and Frank dangerously ventured closer to the open pit, stopping and stood in place, overlooking the hole.

Frank smiled down at the pit. "Nice."

Stu turned and frowned at the man named Red while pointing down at the pit of wildlife, "Pets?"

"Only friends," Red sat the table with a laugh, beating the wooden surface with both hands, making a dull thump sound.

"Are ya'll really are named after the colors of the rainbow?" Tom pulled out the chair, sitting with a laugh next to Austin, slapping both hands over the table surface with a dull thumping sound too like Red.

Frank and Stu back stepped from the open pit with a poker face, turning and moved to the shared poker table, pulling out a chair.

Frank sat next to Tom, turning to stare at the male with the blue cross band on the white cowboy hat with a smile. "I thought that the slang word blue was represented inside the Old West dictionary as a drunk."

Red said with a smile and a nod. "Our township is named Deadbeats from the dead beats that are found inside the gulch..."

"Gulch?" Tom laughed and banged both hands over the table surface with a smile.

Stu stopped and stood behind Tom, leaning down with a stern face into his eardrum. "Gulch is a deep v-shaped valley which is formed by the erosion of time. Or it might be referring a single stream or a dry creek bed, the size of a gully or a large ditch, Tom." He turned and moved, stopping sitting inside a chair beside Frank and no other person.

Tom nodded with a smile. "I recalled from my internet lesson that Deadwood, South Dakota is named from the dead trees found in its gulch with a population of 1,270."

Red turned and smiled at Tom. "Boy's smart. Give him a pin." He reached out into the middle of the table and pulled back a tray of metal colorful tiny buttons with a single word, tapping on each button with a smile. "Our gulch finds all types of beaten dead things hanging out there. Here at the Deadbeats Resort, we don't call folks by a name. We call folks by a role title like a gambler, a prostitute, so you gots to be a role, son. Ya be a gambler man." He grabbed the button and handed it to Tom with a smile and a nod.

Tom reached over and accepted the button, sitting back inside the hard chair, pinning it onto his new business jacket with a smile. "Did the real wild west have a pimp?" He touched his button with a smile and a nod to see Red.

Red nodded with a smile to each Quartet face, "Interesting facty that there, boy! Ellis Albert Swearengen, a real day Old West pimp of an early entertainment entrepreneur in Deadwood, South Dakota. He ran the Gem Theater as a naughty brothel for twenty-two years being a powerful and influential figure in the Old West America. Swearengen was known for his ruthlessly murderous and abusive bad habits before he was found shot between the eyeballs in the middle of the street at the old age of fifty-nine, Yeehaw!"

"Yahoo!" Tom thumbed Berrington with a smile and a nod to Red. "The glove fits the hand perfectly. Make Austin's play role a real life old western pimp, too."

"A pimp is an agent for prostitutes, who collects part of the dollars, Tom. A woman who runs a brothel is known as a madam rather than a pimp." Stu said with a stern face and a nod to Red.

"Austin ain't' no female, Stu. Gawd! Yee needs a set of prescription seeing eyeglasses. Frank, take my brother Gage to my other brother Jace when we get back home for a medical examination and find out what else might be wrong with him." Tom laughed, banging his hand over the wooden table, having fun with the new set of weird-ass QA clients.

Stu exhaled. "The point, Tom, Austin doesn't extract monies from people for their personally services."

"Of course, he does. We all do. That's our point of being here at Deadbeats Resort." Tom smiled with a nod at Red banging his hands over the surface with a thumping sound. "It's money for their protection services from the Quartet."

"Yeehaw! Buckaroo's right." Red clapped with a smile.

"Damn straight and proud of it, too," Tom smiled with a nod, quoting the Quartet motto.

The rest of the Quartet and the other QA clients maintained peace and quiet inside the room.

"Let's see we gots here," Red reached and sorted through the tray of buttons with a smile and a nod. "A henchman..."

"Stu would be the henchman of the Quartet while we are visiting here in Deadbeats." Tom turned and pointed an arm into the face of Mangrove with a smile and a nod to Gage.

"I do not desire a role, sir." Stu shook a bald skull with a smile at Red.

"Gambler role is taken by me." Tom slapped a shirt with a smile and a nod.

"Doc?" Red lifted and held the button in the air.

Tom thumbed with a smile and a nod to Mangrove. "That's Frank. He ain't no real doc, but he can role play while we visit here for the time being a spell." He reached over and grabbed the button from Red, turning and handed to Mangrove. "Take it, Doc. Who else ya gots, Red?"

"Prostitute," Red sorted through the tray with a smile and a nod.

"Austin left them dirty girls at home in Coral Gables." Tom laughed with Red, Blue and Calico while Frank, Austin, and Stu stared with a stern face at Red.

Red tapped on each button with a smile and a nod inside the tray, "Shopkeeper. Miner. Immigrant. Indian. Sheriff," he looked up with a smile and a nod to see Stu. "Ya wanna be the Sheriff, son."

"Never in a lawless, illegal, shoot me uptown," Stu smiled.

Red looked down with a smile and tapped on the next button. "How about ya be a preacher-man?"

Tom nodded with a grin and a giggle, slapping the wooden table with his hands. "Yeah, a preacher for him, how's that, Stu?"

Stu nodded in silent agreement at the silly mental game, which was entertaining a sillier Thomas.

"Roles assigned." Red smiled with a nod at the Quartet.

Frank lifted and presented a stack of legal forms in the air, coming from the briefcase on Tom to complete the next step of the Quartet Associate business transaction, "Business before playtime, children! We sent to ya'll all the required state, federal application forms..."

"We?" Red frowned at Frank.

Frank cleared a throat and said with the redneck language. "Us, Quartet Assholes sent..."

"Doc's a true blue funny entertainer in addition to medical pill counter." Red slapped the table surface with a smile and a laugh.

Frank exhaled with a fake smile. "The form is quite simple and elegant, describing your place in terms of demographical data, climate conditions, and a few of your popular recreation programs for our legal records."

Red looked up to see the ceiling. "That's easy, hoss! Let's see. There's gambling, singing, drinking, eating, shitting..."

"Yahoo," Tom slapped the table surface with a laugh and a smile.

Red looked down with a wink and a laugh to see Tom. "More drinking and then more peeing which is followed by farting, burping, eating then more shitting..."

Tom giggled. Frank frowned. Stu grinned with Austin.

Madam turned and winked at Austin. He smirked with a nod to the pretty girl, who not wife material but babe material. She smiled. "Doc means the nicer activities that our guests pay in their ransom, Red. We provide for fun entertainment and pleasurably enjoyment varied programs from hiking..."

Frank reached and pulled out a number two pencil from his man-purse on the floor, quickly up righting a torso, jolting down the vital information on top of the yellow-lined notepad.

Stu had been instructed that no person was admitted inside the privately owned Deadbeats Resort carrying or holding an instrument, manual or electronic. All and any electronic devices, such as, laptops, mobile telephones, GPS devices, radios, musical devices, and mechanically jewelry watches, not even a battery operated alarm travel clock, was not allowed inside the Deadbeats Resort, making Stu very unhappy and Austin very cautious.

The Quartet had nakedly ventured in a pair of designer leathers into a snake pit without any format of a modern communication devise for either a pure entertainment of fun or a scary escape of defense.

Madam said with a smile and a wink to Austin, "Bicycling, horseback riding, fishing, swimming, skiing, water and snow, during wintertime, of course. We employ seventy folks with one hundred twelve housing units for both employees and guests. Our weather climate varies from a low of sixty-five degrees in the winter month of January to a high of one hundred degrees in the summertime month of June and then back down to a low of sixty-two in the month of December. The land receives about fifteen inches of rain per year and about thirty inches of snow between the months of September and May. Do you require a tour of the entire medical facility, sir? I can arrange for Austin and me to inspect one of the many guest rooms upstairs. Then we can report back later, maybe after suppertime." She batted her painted eyelashes at Berrington.

Red smiled. "Live acts of gold rush, shoot outs, wagon races, and our infamous five card stud. All the resort activities are re-enactments, of course. No one gets hurt, harmed, or..."

"Thanks for your input, Red." Madam nodded with a smile and stood from the table.

"We..." Frank exhaled. "Us, Quartet Assholes do not provide coverage of any accidentally or..."

"... purposefully medical or disaster insurance monies for any type of property, peoples, or predicaments. Period!" Stu nodded without smiling.

Madam winked at Austin, "Any more questions or additional information for your notepad, Doc?"

"Consider your Quartet Asshole application completed and filed. Thank you for your cooperation." Frank closed the paper notepad with a smile, placing all the legal items back into his man-purse, a purse with a shoulder strip that held a brown leather pouch for Frank's personal items, such like, a wallet, a mobile telephone and the legal papers.

Red clapped with a smile excitement and a nod. "Good! Git to good stuff!"

Madam stood and leaned over, patting a stack of white papers, staring with a stern face at Austin, "Business before play, also, gents. Please, sign our protection forms. The simple but elegant acknowledgment swears secrecy of our business. Since the Quartet is in the business of secrets and sweetness, too. We value that our assets stay intact, even if there happens to be a mutual departure of your VIP protection covering our assets, as well. Please sign and date along the dotted line. Then we can get to the really good stuff." She winked at Austin.

Tom stood and reached out, grabbing one of the legal-sized papers on top of the stack, placing the paper in front of his dress shirt with a smile, posing a blue ink pen over the dotted line.

Austin leaned over and slapped the writing hand on Tom down over the legal document with a stern face. "Read the fine print, first." he turned with a stern face to see the leader Ma. "Excuse us, Quartet Assholes for a few minutes to review your legal document. Since, we cherish our billion of assets, as well."

Ma slowly stood on a pair of cowgirl boots without hesitation in silence and swung a queen-sized body to the side wall, leading Madam, Red, Calico and Blue as they swiftly left the room inside the saloon building.

Tom reached and snatched the paper from Austin with a sour frown. "I'm the attorney. This is all cool." He leaned over the paper, reading in silence.

"I'm an attorney, as well, Tom. You, Frank, Stu, and I will read the fine print before dotting any line anywhere." Austin leaned over and snatched the copy from Tom, sitting and reading the fine print in silence.

Tom exhaled with a sour frown, standing and grabbing a new legal form, sitting back down and read in silence.

Conference/gambling table setting

11:40 a.m.

Stu turned and frowned at the blonde hair roots on Tom. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Tom posed the blue ink pen in the air for a second time over the paper with a stern face.

"You are the expensively overpaid asshole lawyer of the Quartet, Tom. Is the document legally binding with the other law terms in the proper order?" Stu turned and stared at the black hair roots on Austin.

Tom curled the alphabetic letter 'y' on his last name onto the legal white document with a smile, "All legal. Sign it. So, we can drink, eat, pee, fart, and shit..."

"Thanks for your informatively input, valuable feedback, and nasty graphic language which is not needed or accepted or appreciated, Tom." Frank signed the legal document on the dotted line.

Tom stood and turned with a smile, scanning an empty room of no other company but his brothers. "Welcome, asshole brother Frank." He rubbed a flat chest with two hands, turning and moved to the beverage bar with a smile.

"What are you doing, Tom?" Stu signed his name on the legal document, since he was voted babysitter for the day trip.

Tom stopped and stood on top of the bar steps, leaning over and grabbed a cold bottle of beverage from behind the counter with a smile. "Looky, cold ale, that's western talk. The Florida translation is beer." Tom screwed off the lip, lifting and sipped the cold beverage to his lips.

Stu sat inside the chair, frowning at the back spine on Tom. "Actually, ale is a native word of Old English. That is used today in the following countries, such like, Scotland, Sweden, Iceland, Russia, and Belgium but not the western USA, Tom. The word lager represents the foreign country of Germany."

"Where are the numerous sharp-tongued brilliant tidbits of smartass Tom who always seemed to know everything about everyone around the world? You don't possess an in-depth history of brewed beer, Thomas?" Frank stood and back stepped from the table, turning and wandering back to the spiders and snake exhibition.

"Naw! I's don't." Tom gently slapped the beer bottle over the counter, leaning over and grabbed three cold bottles of beer, placing them on the counter and popped the lids for his brothers. He grabbed the bottles and turned with a smile, moving to Austin first. Austin accepted the beer with a nod in silence. Tom turned and moved toward the back spines of Stu and Frank.

Stu stood and back stepped from the table, swinging around and followed the back spine on Frank to the open pit of natural wildlife again. "Americans like to use the terms brewski, hops, cold one..."

"Thanks, Stu." Frank frowned at the death pit of wildlife killing each other.

Stu stopped and stood beside Frank with a chuckle and a smile, "And plain ole beer. Southerns interestingly enough are quite fond of a singularly descriptive term called suds. Frank, do you have any linguist synonym theories for that particular word?"

Frank watched the scorpion sting the spider with a sour frown. "I would theorize at an elementary level, of course, that the southern childish slang called suds might reference the whitish creamy froth image of the beer foam as the brownish liquid elegantly pours into a cold sweating tall beer mug..."

Tom moved and stopped, standing behind the back spine on each of his brothers, leaning around, presenting a bottle of cold beer to Frank and Stu. "Here, ya fucking ass white colored froth of erupting gawd damn suds for your thirst throat, Frank."

Mangrove accepted the bottle and gently toasted with Stu. "Cheers!" They back stepped from the death pit and turned, moving back to the table, sipping on the cold brew.

The side door opened.

Red appeared and stood inside the archway with a smile, entering the room and toted a box underneath one armpit, stopping and stood, placing the box on top of the hard table surface. "See, ya'll found the beer. Got some gifts for ya'll, son." He opened the box with a smile and a nod.

Tom back stepped and turned, dashing to stand beside Red with a smile and a nod, seeing the new real western gear. He stripped off the new suit jacket, the bow tie, and the dress shirt, tossing the clothing items down onto the floor with a giggle, exposing a pale flat chest and jerked on the new clothing with a grin.

The new cowboy shirt was decorated with a pink tinted background with a row of yellow colored fringe in a V-shaped pattern over his flat chest. Each shoulder panel was dressed in puke green poker dots. Tom donned a white cowboy hat that was tied with a puke green ribbon around the crown.

Tom nodded with a grin and a giggle to his brothers and Red. "Wow! So cool! Thanks, man! Looky, ya'll! I'm a real life cowboy now." He turned and dashed around the empty room in a pair of designer leathers, using a left folded fist as the pretend horse head inside the make-believe 180 IQ of Sawyer. He whipped the right arm back and forth into the air like a real riding cowboy with a howl of laughter.

Austin sat inside the chair at the table with a grin, staring at Tom.

Frank stopped and stood in front of his assigned seat at the poker table with a chuckle, staring at Tom. Stu stopped and stood beside Frank with a laugh at his silly baby bro.

"Time to play darts!" Red turned and shuffled to the opposite wall, stopping and stood in front of a dart board with a handful of darts.

Tom stopped prancing around the room like a horse and cowboy, turning and moving to stand beside Red with a smile and a nod. "I like darts." Red turned and handed the darts to Tom. Sawyer lifted and aimed one dart at the time with a drooling tongue at the dart board, missing the target sometimes or hitting the board until he was out of darts.

Red stood beside Tom, reaching and pulled out his hand gun with the pearl handle from the hip hostler and lifted the gun, aiming and fired at the dart board on the opposite side of the room with a laugh, "Bull's eye." He nailed the single bullet into the center of the yellow dot with a smile.

Tom back stepped and covered his eardrums from the loud sound of the hand gun with a smile.

Stu stood in front of the table and exhaled with a sour frown at the back spine on Red. "Bull eyeing a target with a gun is easy. Do you carry your live weapon around the guests, also, Red?"

Frank stood in front of the table and leaned over with a worried brow and a whisper into the eardrum on Stu. "I think our business transaction is finished. I get antsy with live ammo inside an enclosed room. Do you agree with me, Stuart?"

"Tell the boss!" Stu watched the ass on Tom with care and caution of brotherly love.

Tom turned and dashed ahead towards Red pointing at the hand gun with a smile and a laugh.

Frank back stepped from the table, side stepping behind Stu and stopped, leaning over with a whisper and a stern face into the eardrum on Austin.

Berrington stood from the chair and stared at the archway, where Madam stood and swung her hips, fanning a pinky-pink cheekbone with the fingers, flirting with Austin. He whispered back with a smile to Frank. "No."

Madam entered the room, leading Ma, Blue, and Calico, turning with a sour frown to see the back spine on her brother. "Stop shooting the walls, Red. We have guests arriving next Sunday. There isn't time for additional repairs to the structures." She stopped and stood next to Austin with a smile and a wink, "How about our inspection tour, cowboy?"

Austin leaned over and grinned into her face with set of whispered sweet words.

They back stepped from the poker table, turning and strolled to a smaller side table near the beverage bar, whispering into each other's face.

Red stood and reloaded the gun with a single bullet of live ammo, turning and moved back to the poker table, scooting the chair out from the wood and sat. He reached and pulled out a new stack of playing cards, slapping it over the surface with a smile and a nod. "Yep, it is poker time here in Deadbeats Resort, boys. Everyone sit for the game!"

Frank, Tom, and Stu moved and grabbed a chair around the table, sitting in a row next to each other, participating in the poker card.

Red broke and shuffled the stack of playing cards with a nod and a smile, sliding a set of five cards to each player around the poker table. The players included Frank, Tom and Stu on one side table with Calico, Blue, Red, and Ma on the opposite side. Red said with a smile. "We like to play five-card stud since the guests like to win using real pesos, not potato chips." He finished passing out the cards and lifted a metal box from the floor onto the table, opening a lid and passed out stack of money towards Blue, Calico, Ma, Stu, Tom, Frank.

Austin and Madam flirted into each other eardrums inside a wall corner poker table far away from the silly poker game.

Conference/gambling table setting

12:22 p.m.

"He be fixin' to wallop us good, again, boys." Red nodded with a smile to Tom.

Sawyer lifted the new playing card from the table surface with a smile and a giggle into his face.

Frank leaned over with a stern face into the cheekbone on Tom, "Poker face."

"I'm the 'bestest' poker player of the Quartet. See my stash?" Tom reached and lifted the pile of five hundred dollar bills with a free hand in air and back down to the table surface with a grin, winning five out of six card games.

"Call, buckaroo." Red smiled. He and Tom were the only two remaining card players within the silly poker game.

The other family members sat inside a chair eating a plate of food or drinking a beverage, watching Red.

Red dropped down the five cards over the table surface, consisting of the numbers two, six, ten, ten, and the face of the queen.

Tom lowered down the playing cards with a smile and a nod onto the table surface, pointing at each card, "Looky here, I win, again. Got me a pair of aces and eights which is two pairs compared to your twin tens."

Red gasped, "A pair of aces and eights, a dead man's hand." He stood, kicking the chair from his ass. The chair slid into the wall. Red drew his real shooting hand gun from the hip hostler, lifting and aimed the barrel at forehead on Tom.

An infamous poker hand combination of a pair of aces and pair of eights traditionally was called a dead man's hand. Wild Bill Hickok was holding this particular poker hand, when he was shot dead by Jack McCall around a poker table in Deadwood, South Dakota.

Tom looked up with a confused brow to see Red and stopped raking the pile of money toward the new pink and yellow cowboy shirt, slowly standing and whipped both palms in the air with a worried brow.

Blue, who hadn't uttered a single word during the Quartet visit, grinned without a set of front teeth. "Bed him down, Red!"

The Old Western translation: Kill the man, Red!

Stu stood and scooted the chair from his ass, slamming an arm into Tom. Sawyer fell backward from the table and over the chair, hitting the floor with a grunt. Gage quickly drew his Ghost from the jacket breast pocket, squatting at the kneecaps, pumping a set of sharp razors into the air, nailing the biological heart organ of Red with six direct hits accurately.

Austin shoved Madam from a lap, standing with a worried brow. Madam flew into the air and twirled around, catching her balance in the pair of high heels shoes. Austin dashed and stopped, standing beside Stu with a stern face, reaching and pulled out his Ghost from the breast pocket of a black jacket and aimed it at Calico, who was watching the interaction between the Quartet and Red.

Then, Frank swiftly stood from his chair, moving and stood guard over Tom, who rested over the floor in shock, reaching with a stern face and pulling out his Ghost from a breast pocket and targeted with a two-fisted weapon at the chest cavity of Blue for protection and love of his brothers.

Red stumbled backward, tossing both arms with an upright body from the card table, slamming into the opposite wall, sliding down to the floor, spurting and spitting a series of red blood proteins from his six open wounds over his dead body, the floor and the wall.

"Drn it!" Blue stood and clapped with a toothless smile for the Quartet. "Them cowboys git-r-done, Ma. Whoa, howdy dew!"

Ma turned with a nod to see Madam in silence acceptance. Madam strolled and stood beside the nose profile on Frank with a smile and a nod to each standing Quartet, "Congratulations, gentlemen!" She turned and stared at her dead brother and Austin. "You do indeed live up to your vicious blood thirsty reputation. Should we finish our business and sign your legal contract?"

Austin stood upright and jerked his Ghost up toward ceiling, stowing it back into his sports jacket, turning with a smile and a nod to see Ma, "Excellent choice, ma'am."

Frank and Stu returned their personal Ghost back down into the jacket pocket also. Frank swiftly dropped down onto his kneecaps down with Tom, reaching out, probing with a pair of medical hands. He double checked with a stern face and a relieved mind finding a healthy biological condition on Tom. Sawyer was okay, just shaken. Frank helped Tom to stand.

Tom wobbled side to side with a worried brow, rubbing the arching body parts from the hard fall onto the harder floor.

Stu stood in place without his weapon and as his pair of eyeballs darted side to side for more trouble.

Austin turned and stared down at the dead body and then up to see Ma with a grin. "We need to remove your dead son Red from the final legal document." Ma nodded in silence agreement. Austin turned and moved toward the new black colored alligator briefcase that carried all the legal papers, leaning down and lifted the briefcase onto the poker table, popping the latch and withdrew a stack of white papers and a set of two colored ink pens. He pulled out the chair and sat down with a stern face, reading and marked, rewriting a set of new English words with a red ink pen inside the Quartet Associates legal client contract document as a licensed State of Florida attorney like Tom.

Austin finished the written work and straightened up the stack of papers into a nice pile, scooting the neat stack of papers and a single blue ink pen to Ma with a smile and a nod. "Each family member must place a set of their personal initials in the color of blue ink inside the set of new square boxes that I have drawn in the color of red. Then you will sign your full legal name and date on the last page of the contract in the color of blue also. Finally, our business transaction will be completed for the term of your QA security contract until we meet again," grinning.

Ma accepted the legal document, leaning down and swiftly scribbling her personal initials into a set of tiny boxes with the blue ink pen and signed the last page, scooting the document to Madam as Madam, Calico, and Blue repeated the exact procedure. Then Blue slid the rough paper stack back to Austin.

Austin accepted the stack of paper and double checked each initialed boxes, authenticating the signatures and straightened the stack of papers, carefully placing the pile back inside Tom's briefcase. He stood and slammed the lid of the briefcase shut, handing the briefcase to Tom.

Frank reached and accepted the briefcase for Tom, steadying a dizzy Sawyer against a chest.

Stu protectively shadowed Austin without his Ghost as his eyeballs darted to each new QA client with a stern face and a worried heart.

Austin back stepped from the table, turned and moved, standing over the cowgirl hat of Ma with an extended hand and a grin. She swiftly stood and accepted the old fashioned gentleman's agreement, shaking the naked hand of Berrington. Austin released the smaller hand and smiled with a nod to each family member. "Welcome to QA. Good day Ma, Blue, Calico, and Madam. Enjoy your evening." He spun around with a grin and led his three brothers toward the swinging doors with a smooth baritone timber. "Let's go back home to Coral Beach, brothers!"

Hot temperatures and bright sunshine

Limousine ride of the Quartet south US Highway 90

Interior rear cabin setting

12:48 p.m.

Inside the limousine, Tom sat beside Stu on the bench seat, still wearing the silly pink and yellow cowboy shirt. Stu had gathered up the business clothes for Tom before leaving the Deadbeats Resort. Frank sat next to Austin, facing Tom and Stu on the opposite side during the limousine back to the airport, after the addition of a new Quartet Associates client this afternoon.

Tom opened the briefcase and pulled out the legal contract, scanning it for any errors, since the Quartet were still located inside the US State of South Dakota. Even thou, Tom wanted to go home to Coral Beach, right now. He parted the lips and pointed down at the newly signed and executed legal Quartet Associate client contract with a worried brow, staring down at the new set of hand drawn square red boxes of blue colored initials. "Austin, you revised the entire security contract, proclaiming that we, not them. This new legal document states that the Quartet protects the entire clan, while alive. But, we inherit the entire campus, including the buildings, the land, and all financial bank accounts of the Deadbeats Resort, if they die. If the entire clan dies dead, before the completion of the executed legal contract expires within ninety-one days from today on the calendar date." He looked up with a confused brow to see Austin, shaking his bangs with puzzlement. "I don't understand your intent, Austin."

Stu and Frank leaned over and slapped a pair of high-fives in the air and then lowered a fist bump at the waist with a chuckle and a smile to each other. Frank turned and frowned to Austin. "Three months is not a lot of time to enjoy life, Austin." Mangrove agreed and approved with the upcoming plans of Badass Berrington, accidentally or purposefully, to secretly return back to the US State of South Dakota and punish the yahoos the Quartet way, right before the ninety-first-day deadline of the financial security contract. Frank turned and grinned to Stu in silence.

Stu turned and nodded to Austin, understanding a pissed-off Austin, sharing the emotional and permanent death threat to his baby bro Tom at a carefree fun poker card game.

Austin growled at Tom. "No one fucks with the Quartet."

Stu turned with a chuckle and slapped a high-five in the air with Frank for a second time, "Period."

Frank closed his hand with a chuckle and fist-bumped with Stu for a second time, "Exclamation point!"

Stu reached over and slapped the bicep on Frank with a chuckle, "Period and then exclamation point, bro."

Stu and Frank continued to playfully slap each other body parts with laughter.

Tom looked down with a puzzled brow to read the new deadly QA legal document in silence.

Present time and place

City of Coral Beach

Hot temperatures with dull stars and moonlight

Home location of Jane and Tom

Living room setting

9:09 p.m.

Tom leaned back into the recliner from his short catnap, opening his eyelids to see a bright yellow moon through one of the sky lights on the ceiling and wiped away a sweaty face with both hands. He exhaled with a huff of worry.

Jane knelt at the recliner with a soft whisper into his eardrum. "Tom, I love you."

"Jane, I love you." Tom turned and smiled at his wife, leaping from the recliner, attacking her body and kissed her face over the floor with happiness.
Friday August 6th

7:07 a.m.

City of Miami (downtown Miami)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Miami-Dade Courthouse building

(ten miles north of Coral Beach)

Private chamber setting

Federal Judge Sherman Cutter

Jane sat straight and upright inside the worn brown leather chair, an icon.

Tom had told and re-told his legal stories many times to her about this chair and the adventures inside the private chamber of Sherman Cutter as the lead attorney on numerous cases from bankruptcy to murder at his company Quartet Associates.

Jane felt a little nervous, wearing a brown colored designer business suit of seriousness waiting for the law players to gather for the last act of the play, the finale.

The door was opened.

The Coral Gables district attorney stomped inside and stood in a pair of polished and worn brown leathers with a set of two personal body guards inside the archway, scanning the crowded office space with a sour frown.

The attending audience was composed of Jane Sawyer, Zara's lawyer and the billionaire's wife; Chief of Police Leo Trilling; police officers Hardy and Loree; FBI Special Agent Phil Magnum, and Sherman, who was not dressed in black robes. The judge sat behind his wooden office desk with a stern face.

Leo sat on a long sofa between his two police officers of Hardy and Loree with a sour frown at Cutter. "What's the urgency? I'm busy, Cutter."

"New evidence," Jane sat inside the chair with a smile and a nod, proclaiming the good news first before Sherman, since she was proud of her long hours and her hard work as she had single-handedly proven that Zara was completely innocent of the stated eight female murder crimes.

Tom was not mad this morning, after getting up to bath shower and change into a business suit for his day's work at Quartet Associates. He rode with Jane inside the limousine to the courthouse too.

Tom waited patiently inside the reception area for Jane to present the new evidence to the Miami-Dade district attorney, then he will escort her back home, after they had taken Zara to her newly purchased residential home which had been paid from a joint bank account for being wrong and an asshole.

Tom had already telephoned his brothers Stu, Frank, and Austin with the good news and a pickup as Tom's personal limousine was rolling back to Coral Beach to gather the rest of the Quartet for the final act of the play.

"What new evidence?" The brown-haired short Miami-Dade district attorney stared at the rear skull of Jane.

FBI Special Agent Phil Magnum sat on the end of the long sofa with Trilling and the two other police officers with a smiled. "Medical tests, they are the courtesy from some of the Miami-Dade School of Medicine brightest and gifted medical interns with the newest and latest chemical tests on all eight of the victims. The results were sent yesterday to the FBI lab boys and girls for re-testing while concluding that all eight females had died from a chemical compound of potassium dioxide. A chemical compound used by photographers, not pilots."

"Substantial." The Miami-Dade district attorney frowned inside the archway.

"I think not. I have reviewed the work of the talented medical interns and the tested laboratory reports thoroughly. I'm very impressed, Mrs. Sawyer." Cutter nodded to Jane.

"I didn't get to be impressed, since I didn't get the reports." The district attorney entered the crowded room without an empty seat, standing against the wall and stared at the nose profile on Jane.

"They were hand delivered at six this morning to your office." Jane said with a smile, since she had found the missing weapon, in this case, a chemical compound that was used to kill each girl before the police did.

Jane did not want glory here but for Zara to be released from all the criminal charges, her mission to save Zara, an innocent victim. Then Jane would sue the city of Miami for the false arrest record of Zara. However, Tom had agreed to handle that legal matter, since Jane was only a temporary criminal lawyer for a couple of days.

This was Tom's compromise to Jane for finding the real evidence and solving the real murders while making Jane very happy. Tom complimented, aided, and supported Jane's cause without Austin's dictatorship.

"I'm not in my office at six am." The district attorney smiled.

Cutter cleared a throat for drama, turning and frowned at the district attorney. "Real lawyers work around the clock to find the real killer in my days as a DA. My judgment is that the laboratory medical reports have changed the legal circumstance for Miss Zenith. She doesn't appear to be responsible for killing any of the females."

"I require an investigation still. You can't close my close, Judge Cutter." The district attorney turned and frowned at Cutter.

"As the police detective assigned to this murder case since the beginning, Mrs. Sawyer has uncovered the unknown chemical while linking all eight deaths at eight different locations around eight different cities. The police cannot hold Miss Zenith accountability for the any of the eight murdered crimes. There is another person out there doing this." Hardy exhaled.

"Cleared?" Jane asked Cutter.

"Dropped," Trilling nodded to Cutter.

"Dismissed," Cutter nodded with a smile to Jane.

"Find the damn killer Trilling, now." The district attorney turned and frowned at the nose profile on Trilling with embarrassment and fury.

The other attendees stood and left the office, including Jane.

8:56 a.m.

Limousine ride of the Quartet

US Highway One south

Hot temperatures with sunshine

Interior cabin setting

Jane and Tom sat next to each other. Tom held her hand in happiness with a smile. Jane played with his finger pads in joy with a smile.

Jane had won her first murder case.

Tom stared at her nose profile with a grin. He was so proud of Jane and her valor and humanity cause, winning her first murder case. He turned and smiled to Austin, who sat across Tom and Jane with Stu on the same bench seat. Frank sat beside Austin near the limo door on the other side on Tom.

"Austin." Tom did not need to sound the request, since everyone inside the limo was waiting for the proper response from Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth.

"Yes." Austin turned and stared out the window at the landscape which moved at thirty-five miles-per-hour.

Tom nodded with a smile at the nose profile on Austin, "Apology." He did not need to state the name, since everyone inside the limousine was staring at Austin in silence.

"No." Austin turned and stared at Janey.

"Yes." Tom nodded with a smile, since he was not going to lose the war between him and Austin.

Frank exhaled. "Janey's right. You're wrong. Be a good sport, Austin."

"Austin." Stu turned and growled into the cheekbone of Austin, because they honored and respected each other's personal and professional judgments as a Quartet family of brothers and sisters until the end of time.

Austin softly whispered to Jane. "Sorry."

"Thank you, Earth God." Jane laughed with delight, lifting her fists with victory, since she had won her first murder case and won her first victory over Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth which was not easy. The man ruled the world with a sweet whisper.

Stu turned and chuckled to Janey. "What does that mean, Janey?"

"Gawd, you, guys are too much." Jane pointed at Austin with a smile, "Earth God." Then she pointed to Stu with a smile, "Engineering God."

"I prefer Sex God." Tom leaned over and hugged his wife with a smile as he was happy and relieved that the murder case is done. Zara was living inside her new home and out of his house and his life.

"Shut up, Tom!" Frank frowned.

Jane smiled at Berrington. "Austin, you need to jump down from that platform that hovers too close to heaven. You are not the only male of the species on planet Earth. Women do not bend over for you to fuck them. You need to show respect and honor, sometimes to one or two other people, every once in a while."

Austin was a very shallow guy on the outside, whose only hobby was girls to date and fuck like a kennel of groomed dogs. But Jane believed inside her heart that Austin was really a complex studious guy which was only known to his brothers.

Austin smiled. "I will keep that in mind, Janey."

Jane nodded. "Zara was innocent. I was damn lucky that I had money and a mouth and Misty."

Frank gasped, "My Misty?"

Jane turned and nodded to Frank. "Misty, she gave me the idea to hire the Miami-Dade School of Medicine medical interns. It would seem that you do that shit all the time, Franklin, spending fifty million dollars out the door, without blinking an eyelash."

Frank turned a shade of pale white within his dark skin without a vocal statement.

"What is Janey talking about, Frank?" Stu leaned over with a confused brow and frowned at Frank.

"Mouse, remember?" Frank exhaled. Stu and Tom did not possess all the detailed knowledge of that money transaction.

"The smelly shitty yellow banana, we paid Miami-Dade U that much for a dead body." Tom frowned at Frank.

"Fifty mil for that yellow bitch?" Stu shook a bald skull.

"Stu, we all voted on it." Frank smiled, since the angel of death murder case had been totally forgotten by everyone, including his brothers.

"Well, there was a lot of medical talk going on, so I was asleep and just raised a hand in agreement," Stu laughed.

"Pussy," Tom chuckled.

"Shut up, Tom." Frank turned and sneered at his brother.

Austin said to Jane. "Zara is not going to jail."

Jane nodded with a grin. "That's right. I was her lawyer. I saved the day, not Austin."

"Zara is not going to jail." Austin said.

Jane smiled. "Zara is cleaning up her new house and happy to be inside her new home and out of jail. She starts her new work tomorrow night with the Miami-Dade Fire and Rescue. Very glad, this is over. And she is not going to die, Austin."
Saturday August 7th

2:31 a.m.

City of Coral Gables (two miles west of Coral Beach)

Moonlight with bright stars

House of Zara Zenith

Master bedroom setting

Zara screamed out lout the name within sleepy slumber on top of the new bed mattress, "Austin," then she sat upright inside the warm bed and turned, seeing the 2:31 am on the clock, "Shit."

She rolled out the bed and dressed in a blue sweat suit, dashing down the staircase into the garage and inside her new car. She pressed the button and lifted the garage door of with a worried brow. "The dream is real. Berrington is in trouble at his house." She started the engines without warming them, peeling out into the city street of Coral Gables in the middle of the morning, driving toward Coral Beach.

House location of Austin

Master bedroom setting

2:32 a.m.

Austin was folded at a naked waist, presenting a tall, straight, and upright torso, leaning a bare back spine against the cool bedroom wall paint inside his personal bed mattress, staring with a stern face at her without speaking or moving.

She held his Ghost when she had secretly swiped it from his bedroom nightstand, since Austin always slept like a baby.

"Drink it," she aimed the Ghost in the middle of his sweaty forehead with a smile.

"No thank you, Miss Liz Gwinnet Harris!" He smiled.

"Drink it," she wiggled the Ghost in the middle of his sweaty forehead with a grin.

"You really did commit cold-blood murder on all these nice girls." He exhaled with a huff of disappointment, facing the real murderer of his eight former flames.

"Well, hell, yeah," she giggled and aimed the Ghost at his sweaty forehead.

"Why, Liz?" Austin frowned.

"Lots of adjectives," she shrugged a shoulder.

"Evil," he sneered.

Her eyelashes scanned the familiar bedroom, remembering a new image the Florida room that was located downstairs. "I noticed you changed the furniture and paint. Didn't like my design?"

"You were a passing fancy," he chuckled.

Liz fired a single razor from the Ghost, hitting the wall two feet from the right cheekbone of Austin. He did not twitch a muscle in either a face or a body. She laughed. "Fancy that, Austin. You're bold, tough, and stupid."

"Why, Liz?" He frowned.

"Well, I did enjoy it for a while following the fairy tale. However, I didn't like the good fairy tale ending. So, I decided to create an alternative, a demon pitchfork."

"You killed Zara." Austin frowned.

"Did you fuck her?"

"No," he softly said.

"You usually don't miss a babe."

"This one didn't want me," he smiled.

"Really?"

"Really," he grinned.

"Drink it," she waved the Ghost side to side with a smile, pointing it at his heart.

"Shoot me," he chuckled.

"Nope, not that easy, I might get caught." Liz smiled.

"Fuck you, then?" Austin smiled.

"No, thanks," she frowned.

"Last fuck, I'm willing and almost able, maybe a little slower than usual." He removed the loose satin sheet, revealing a naked Austin with a grin.

"No, sweetie," she frowned.

"No?" He frowned.

"I want you dead, not arched. Drink it!" Liz shuffled the Ghost between a pair of sweaty hands.

"We have a standoff, Lizard. I'm not going to consume the beverage and die like your other victims."

"Do you want me to tell about the other victims, honey pie?"

"Shoot." Austin chuckled. "Excuse the pun!"

"Bastard, you're the most arrogant son of a bitch on the planet."

He chuckled. "How interesting? I was told that very same line, this morning." Liz fired the Ghost. A single razor hit the upper meaty flesh on the non-shooting arm of Austin, embedding a sharp head into his skin. "Damn it to hell!" He slid sideways over the bed linen sheets, bleeding onto the sheets and a body. He shifted over the legs, bending and protecting a naked chest, swiftly yanking the razor from the open wound. Austin grunted with a pain and tossed the bloody blade onto the floor inside the wall corner. He quickly striped and wrapped the pillow case around a left bicep, since he would live with the flesh wound. The outer skin was only nicked, blooding from a few blood vessels, not the single blood artery. Austin sat upright again, leaning against the cool wall paint with a grunt of pain and wounded pride.

"Does it hurt?" Liz stood at the edge of the king-sized bed with her sneakers apart and a giggle, pointing the Ghost at his sweaty forehead.

"No." Austin barely whispered, absorbing the pain like a tough-guy.

"I always wondered what the razors did to a body. You never let me participate in your fun, Austin. I really wanted, too," she smiled.

"Now, you have an answer." He exhaled with a set of controlled breathing from the throbbing pain of a left arm wound.

She laughed. "I admire your guts, especially in the face of danger."

"You mean death."

"That, too," Liz waved the Ghost side to side with a giggle and a grin.

"Why, Liz?" He held the breath with a pained voice from the wound inside an arm and his heart.

Liz had changed from that afternoon morning, leaving his mansion on June fifth before Cliffy's burial cremation. She was much thinner, paler, and meaner, if that was even possible.

She wore a tight black cat suit without any ornaments or a piece of jewelry with a head of dirty blonde hair that was pulled back in a ponytail, exhibiting a different persona two months ago in the vision of a beast rather than a beauty.

"Drink your beverage," she pointed the Ghost at his heart again.

"Why, Liz?"

"If I tell you, will you drink the cocktail?"

He grunted in pain. "Please tell me anyways."

She nodded and held the Ghost at his eyeball, left side. "All right, here goes. You created me. You lavished expensive and unique gifts for fun, pleasure, and entertainment on me for all your social functions, including the gems, the gowns, the glamour. Then you picked up and pitched me like a bale of brown hay into the wooden cart driven by four farm mules, so you could continue to attend your every night social event with a new girl. Then you tossed the new girl into the hay cart without me also."

"You talked to each dead girl, before killing them." He nodded.

"Some were amused. Some were sad. Some were mad. Some were dumb."

"Watching and stalking for fun, Liz." He frowned.

"Only your fun, well, in the end, it is my fun," she giggled.

"What do you accomplish with me dead, Liz?"

"Revenge."

"...served hot in Florida," he finished the famous phrase that was created by the Quartet.

She laughed, "I might use that coined phrase, sometimes."

"Be my guest."

"I confess to the great and mighty dirt-god named Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth. I killed all your girls, including an innocent but mysterious Kattleen Scarlett Kattrell and a beautiful and tall Athena. They both ironically were living happily and peacefully in Ruby Beach," she smiled.

"I have recording devices in here," he smiled.

"I believe you, Austin," she nodded with a giggle, knowing that he lied, since there was not any one single recording device inside the private residential home of Austin. He was too honest and trusting but carried his Ghost with him twenty-four hours and seven days per week.

"You tried to frame the pilot."

She laughed out loud. "Wrong, handsome! The girl was just a pilot, a nosy pilot that got in my way. Or she got in the way of an FBI investigation."

"She was living a very happy existence as a part time paramedic and a pilot with fire rescue of Lee County. I don't understand, Liz. Why did you allow the criminal charges against Zara?"

She exhaled. "It was for fun and games, at first. But, the news and the girls drew your attention away from the obvious object, which was me, and then towards her, that was a wonderful impromptu distraction also."

"What was a wonderful impromptu distraction? Who were your distracting, Lizard?" He frowned.

"You, Austin."

"Why, Lizard?"

"Does the razor burn hurt?" She laughed out loud.

He grunted with the burning pain, gingerly moving the bloody pillow case around the bicep while absorbing more of his personal red blood. She shuffled the Ghost side to side. Austin softly said, "No."

"A manly man, until the end..."

"The end of what, Lizard?"

"Your time, your death, and your dead body will be lying over the floor with blood flowing from a couple of open artery veins."

"You should've been a horror novelist."

"I should've been Mrs. Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth."

"Ah, this is about me," he smiled.

"No dumb shit, this is about me," she frowned.

"You?" Austin frowned.

"I loved you with my heart and soul, Austin, since our first introduction on the playground at the age of four. I wanted nothing but to make you happy for the rest of my life. I could've if you only let me."

"We used each other..."

"I don't use you."

"For sex, more sex and money, more money."

"I loved you. I wanted you. I wanted you back after you tossed me out of the house before Cliffy's funeral."

"You were very unkind and selfish, Lizard. You don't show any compassion for Cliff, our elementary friend, his wife..."

"Like you did, the big billionaire spending billions of dollars on presents every time the kid called which was not time, only money, Austin."

"Liz?"

"I waited by the phone for you to call me. By the door for the limo to arrive to carry me back to you. The phone call didn't come. The limo didn't show. Then I watched you every damn night and day escort a pretty whore after a pretty whore to the dancing balls, grassy parks, social picnics, and cultural events while taking my place on your arm."

"Liz?"

"I worked every day and night at the real estate office, trying to sell those gawd damn houses. I guess I wasn't cut out for the work force."

"Pampered as a child."

"...to debt, not death. My mom and dad left me in a fine grand manner, financial ruins."

"I paid."

"Spare me! I know you paid many of my debts. I just couldn't or wouldn't stop my spending spree."

"Liz."

"Things were good. We were good. You were happy. I was very happy and then Cliffy's died."

"The entire world went crazy."

"You went loco, Austin. You become deranged with revenge for the angel of death."

He nodded, "A wasted life, a small child."

"You changed, Austin. You become consumed, mean, and filled with hate, without love until..."

"Katt."

She exhaled. "You found her inside the small fishing village of Ruby Beach with an anonymous phone call that brought her into metro Miami for a necktie gallows hanging. You did your job. But you just don't know when to stop..."

"She was innocent."

"How did you figure it out, Austin?"

"The Quartet did."

"No, you did, Austin. The reason, I love you so much, is that you have a special bond, connection, or something to people. You can read and understand them without speaking or hearing them. You did with Katt. You found her secret during the water accident."

"Yes, I did."

"Then, you fall in love with her."

"Did she tell you that?"

She rolled her eyeballs at him. "Do you see? You're doing it, now. I talked with her. After three shots of whiskey, anyone would talk."

"She told..."

"Everything, the kidnapping, the cliff, the jail, the arrest, the prison, the food, the kitten, the visits, the trailer, the water, the knife, the touch..."

"The baby?"

"It died."

"It was innocent like her..."

"Please, I'm going to vomit," she gagged and then giggled.

"Please use the toilet, Lizard," he pointed to the bathroom with a smile and a chuckle

She frowned, "Joke, humor, laughter, this is my entire life."

"I'm sorry, Liz. I don't mean to hurt you."

"Sorry for me, I pretended there was a love between us. I know you used me. I used you. But we enjoyed using each other. We both got what we wanted."

"Yes, we did."

"We had a good thing. We could have lasted a life time."

"Well, I wanted more."

"You always want less."

"Not true, I want more from life, including commitment, love, obligation, support, marriage and a child."

"You never told me that."

"You're not wife material, Lizard."

"You don't have to lie with me. I'm a Berrington babe. I'm always be labeled that name. Everyone guy at the office hit on me for that main reason. I was one of your conquests. Once finished, I'm brandied for life but better than the average whore. I guess." She laughed.

"I didn't know."

"You're a male, a man. The world's your oyster as they say."

"Man's world."

"...ran on man's money."

"Women?"

"Females are the smarter of the species, stronger but can't compete with males. They lose every damn time."

"You feel that you have lost, Liz."

"Don't psycho analysis me, Austin?"

"Sorry."

"I know me. I face my truths. I'm a whore since we fucked in the seventh grade underneath the shade tree behind the lawn shed. I loved it. I loved the act. I loved the moment. I loved you."

"You loved the money and glamour that is real truth."

"I cannot tell a lie."

"We could never be happy together. We had too many different interests."

"For a rich bastard, you're boring, Austin. You didn't have any hobbies, collections, cars, games, or vices."

"I like to kill for fun."

"You want to kill me."

"I cannot tell a lie."

"My, my, my, how our personal relationship has shifted one hundred and eighty degrees, going from a common whore to an ultimate enemy?"

"You're correct. I'm a boring person. But I do enjoy life. I enjoy what life has to offer and I enjoy the money that comes with my life."

"Pray continue. You seem to be working toward an epiphyte."

"I'm boring person that statement is true, but I will be alive and breathing after our vocal conversation has ended."

"Is that the best threat ya got, buddy?" She laughed.

"I could toss some nasty curse words into the chat mix."

She smiled. "Frank, Stu, and Tom, your trusting non-biological brothers ain't coming for the finale QA rescue, bro. They're in bed fucking and kissing their designer-made wives, chatting about their eternity love and making a baby. You're all alone, pal."

"I believe you to be sadly mistaken, Lizard."

"I get it. You didn't. The two sentry guard units posted at the two security gates. Think Old Man, I've been driving through these pearly white gates for years. They don't bother to stop or see my ID. I wave a manicured hand. They throw the gate up and down for me. They damn sure ain't going to call Stu. I'm your whore, remember?" She laughed.

Austin gasped, realizing that Liz was correct. The two set of Coral Beach sentry guards recognized Liz, who had never posed any danger to any member of the Quartet, especially the boss.

She smiled, "Cat got your tongue, Old Man."

Austin cringed as he remembered that Mouse used those exact same English words, right before she threatened to kill him with his Ghost two months ago.

She smiled. "The dirt god is speechless. But Austin doesn't waste valuable words like Tom. Gawd, what a foul mouth on that man? I wished he were here. I would love to zap his balls and stuff them down his throat."

"Hatred unlimited," he frowned.

"Tom always fried my ass with his little nasty nickname of 'Lizard.' You didn't even defend me."

"You should've got the point then."

"I should've but didn't."

"It is never too late to learn, Lizard." He grinned.

"To love or hate? Well, I hate the lot, the entire Quartet, including wives and parents."

"I hope you aren't planning an invasion."

"Hell, I'm dumb but not that dumb."

"You are not dumb."

"You're my only target, Austin. The other trash is pee shit inside the toilet."

Austin exhaled with a huff of relief. Liz was not going to attack his biological parents or any member of his non-biological family like that would every happen to them, since each person did not enjoy Liz's company and would shoot first rather than allow her personal car near one of the nasty trashcans at the end of a driveway.

He smiled. "I'm worth more alive than dead, one billion, perhaps."

"Where's the video button on my cell? Berrington's negotiating for his life with a financial ransom. You have finally hit the bottom of the ocean."

"Been there, survived. My point's valid. I can pay you for not harming me, anymore."

"You still don't get it. I didn't kill the girls for fun. I did this to frame you, not Zara."

He frowned, "Frame me?"

"Zara got in the way. She's a nosy and smart bitch like her lawyer Janey. So I decided to teach her a lesson also."

"Don't let Tom hear you describe Janey in that rude unkind matter. He'll shoot your toes," he chuckled.

"It doesn't matter anymore. It's water under the bridge as they say. But Zara opened the door with her magical key, so that I could gain access to you, just one more time."

He frowned, "To me?"

"The girls died from potassium chloride poisoning, a simple over dosage of the chemical in a drinking beverage."

"Janey uncovered the evidence that freed Zara."

"Janey is the true genius more smarts than her shit ass law husband. That asshole jerk Sawyer would have never solved the mysterious medical mess or given a shit about an innocent girl. Zara would have fried her eyeballs in the Tallahassee gas chamber. And then you would have been free to fuck more girls."

"My only hobby but you seemed to have acquired a new one."

"I met Francois in Paris, last year. I was learning a new trade for a new career besides selling houses. I got a good eye for action and angles. Do you enjoy the unique poses, darling, Austin?" She laughed. "I got bored with it all. I guess I learned more than I thought with the help of another photography class. Then I was tossed out on my ass by you. I picked up the hobby as maybe a second job. I started working on developing pictures when I got burned by some of the solvent. The idea hit me like a lightning bolt. So I practiced and experienced on little subjects like tiny mice, stray cats, and some older sickly dogs until I got the right mixture. The real test was the first victim."

"Katt was first." Austin gasped.

"The authorities took weeks and weeks to find her. She lived in an isolated part of the Ruby Beach. I had to give them a tip or the body would decompose in the sands of time, eaten away by palmetto bugs."

"Athena," he nodded.

"Gawd, she was a strong bitch. I splashed the potassium into her face, blinded her for a few seconds. Then I tossed the rest of the liquid contents down inside her open mouth. Twelve point eight seconds to die. What a fucking she-battle?" She smiled.

"The rest of the girls, Liz?"

"Easy as pie, I used my realtor license to solicit offers on their individual private residential house."

"At night," he shook a skull with the ingenious plan of Liz that worked and murdered five other innocent females.

"Nighttime was the best time, since everyone was tired and filled with food and drink. Easy pickings for me!"

"You served the potassium inside a drinking beverage."

"Wine bottle, the old prop with a bottle of real wine, holding real potassium. Or I poured it straight into a drinking beverage while we talked about selling their house over the ten percent of value, since the USA economy sucked."

"Evil witch."

"The proper vile term is an evil sorceress. Sorcery practice uses both potions and toxins to kill their victims."

"You are going to die not by my hand or the Quartet, but you will die, Lizard."

She laughed. "Me? It is you, sweetie. I'm framing you to die, Austin. You see. You drink the potassium. You die. I shoot myself in the leg before I call the police, explaining how you confessed to me. You showed me the mixture which is setting inside your kitchen counter. And the glossy clear colorful photos, you took of each girl before and after pictures that only the true killer possesses. You threatened to kill me if I want to the police. So I switched the glass tumblers with the deadly potassium poison. You drank it. You stumbled, shot my leg, and then died on the floor, so sad."

"Frank?"

She smiled. "The best part of my plot, I'm writing a tattle-tale novel about us, sweetie. You're the evil prince. I'm the helpless sweet princess. I signed a book deal yesterday. I'll make millions, maybe billions like you. Therefore, I don't need your money. You don't need your money. You've been dead. Frank, Stu, and Tom will so sad and lonely that their leader passed to the great beyond. I guess that the Quartet will swiftly die away."

He shook his skull. "Liz, you never learned. The Quartet succeeds, always."

"Any more questions?"

"No."

"I have one. Why do you call Mrs. Sawyer, Janey? Tom calls her, Jane."

Austin chuckled. "Tom doesn't like to use the nickname Janey for his wife."

"Any last words before you die which I had to do for self-defense reasons, officer." She smiled and squeezed the trigger on the Ghost at the skull of Austin.

Austin held a breath, pondering a plan of survival from the evil sorceress.

Home location of Austin

Front porch setting

2:46 a.m.

Zara raced the sports car down Red Road, turning and stopping at the first sentry gate, saying with a smile and a nod to the twin sentry guards. "Jane."

The set of twin sentry guard recognized Zara with a hand wave and a smile, opening up the first set of electronic iron gates into the Coral Beach.

Zara saluted with a hand and a nod of her ponytail to the nice guard. "Thank you." She drove down to the second sentry gate with a nod and a smile again, "Jane, please."

The set of twin sentry guards opened the gate without fanfare or calling Jane to confirm the visit, since Zara had been accepted, driving back and forth with Jane inside her personal vehicle or inside the Sawyer's limo.

Zara raced away from the sentry gate, cutting off the head lights on the car, slowing and parked on top of the manicured lawn, killing the engine and turned to see the house. The bedroom light was powered on at three in the morning while the rest of the billionaire neighborhood was quiet and dark.

She whispered for her eardrums only. "Call, Jane. Call, Tom. Call, Stu. No time! The killer is with Austin, so I must save the demi-god." She opened the car door, sliding and standing upright from the seat, leaving the door open. Zara hoped that a Quartet brother or sister would get curious and come inside for a question. She turned and jogged on a pair of sneakers onto the front porch within the dusk of night without the benefit of a porch light.

Austin kept the front door open as the Quartet sisters liked to talk and gossip about their big brother with Zara during the day or night time hours while Jane was gone from the home doing all the leg work on the murder case of Zara. That planned action was really good for letting a deadly dangerous killer into your house, since the killer personally knew Austin, his brothers, sisters, and the house. She stopped and stood, reaching over, grabbing the door handle and jerked.

The door was unlocked and opened in silence of well-oiled hinges.

Florida room setting

3:00 a.m.

Zara stepped into the darkness of the Florida room, observing empty space without a dead body, since Austin liked to kill for fun. She dropped down to her butthole and ass-ran over the floor toward the polished staircase, scanning the room in the bright moonlight from a set of ceiling skylights.

Cute, the entire room is painted with a set of pink walls and decorated with a set of pink and white furniture, the only thing lacking were pink roses.

Shit, a vase of freshly cut pink roses was located on top of the fake fireplace hearth, making Austin a gay-guy, not a tough-guy.

She stopped and squatted in place, hearing a couple of faint voices. The voices were coming from the top floor.

Hallway space setting

3:03 a.m.

She climbed up the staircase on her palms and her sneakers, reaching the third level and stood like a woman. She slowly moved down the hallway, listening and stopped outside the far bedroom door with the faint voices, standing and looked through the vertical crack between the wall and the door frame, witnessing the back spine on the killer.

The assailant stood in front of Austin and his bed frame. Austin was trapped inside his bed mattress. The assailant was a female in voice and shape with a back spine, bleeding into the eyesight of Zara and she held a weapon with a right hand rather than a left hand. The assailant was talking very loud, distracting Austin and her concentration from Zara outside the bedroom door. The assailant was tall maybe five feet and ten inches as she was compared to the five feet and six inches of Zara.

The assailant had more height and strength than Zara, but Zara had the element of surprise and her very good karate skills. The assailant stood with the legs apart, balancing the gun.

Zara had warned Tom that Austin was the real target of the murderer of the eight girls but four arrogant demi-gods who were appropriately nicknamed Quartet Assholes by the media reports did not want to talk with Zara. Now, the three other Quartet Assholes were inside a warm bed asleep, because the polished armed Calvary had fed their steeds rather than jumping on a sleepy horse for the single manly rescue.

"She's the chosen one." Zara whispered for her eardrums only with a smirk of delight, slowly standing upright, viewing helpless Austin between the tiny crack between the door frame and the wall.

Austin could see a slight physical motion with a pair of sharp eyes, knowing that his brothers were here and did not fail to rescue him, once again.

Zara back stepped in silence as the assailant continued her monologue in loud tones to Austin, turning and dashing back down the hallway for a weapon. She was located inside the hallway on the third floor, stopping and stared at the pretty flora arrangement of fresh flowers with a set of two lovely wooden thick tree limbs that was nicely embedded into the nature flower setting. Zara reached and gently pulled one of the two tree limbs out from the water vase, lifting it into the air with a smile as it measured seven inches which was in length a man's penis with her vivid imagination during a Quartet rescue.

The head? The neck? The back? The butthole was sensitive and vulnerable as Zara noted that assailant wore a tight fitting black cat suit.

Master bedroom setting

3:05 a.m.

Zara quietly attacked the growling assailant in an offensive maneuver, ramming the small tree limb into the asshole of Liz as the Liz instinctively heard a sound behind a back spine.

Liz swung around with a set of extended arms, holding the Ghost of Austin and fired at Zara.

Zara quickly ducked and rolled to her left out of target range over the soft carpet while thrusting and scissoring, and captured both legs against the stance of Liz.

Liz fell down and landed on the side of her kneecaps, flipping a set of folded legs sideways and lifted, pinning Zara at the kneecaps, around the neck over carpet.

Zara stilled with a sneer for a few seconds, lifting and slapped the tree limb against the waistline of Liz with a soft smack. The tree limb broke in half, falling down and landed over each side of Liz too.

Liz shifted and released the neck of Zara with a grunt, still holding the legs, falling backward onto a back spine and reached, grabbing the grounded Ghost. Liz lifted the Ghost from the carpet, aiming and shot two razors into the air waves, missing Zara with each shot, cursing.

Zara swiftly rolled to her left side near the two wall interactions, stopped and tucking beside a six-drawer dresser for protection from the flying biting razors.

Liz hissed, mouth spitting her blood over the carpet, tossing the Ghost into the air from the hands as it landed on the edge of the king-sized bed mattress with Austin. She lifted and stood in full stance from the floor, reaching and lifting a set of two light weight flower pots to use as two weapons against Zara.

Austin turned with a sneer, grabbing and tossed the reading lamp from the nightstand table at Liz, assisting Zara with the cat fight.

The small lamp hit the back spine on Liz.

Liz howled with pain from the accurate throw of Austin, back stepped and swung around, leaning down and grabbed the Ghost from the edge of the king-sized bed, turning with a distorted face, shooting two razors at Austin.

Austin rolled and ducked in the nick of time as the two sharp blades embedded into the pink painted walls above his hair roots, gathering a set of soft pillows over a skull for protection.

Austin pulled the blankets and bed comforter closer to a naked chest with a sneer as he readied for the fighting action to end before Liz killed him with his own Ghost, but he was really impressed with the gun aim of accurate of Liz as an angry bitch.

Zara rolled out from the dresser and crouched over the carpet, leaping into the air and hit Liz below at the leather belt of the fashionable cat suit which was against the wrestling rules.

Liz tripped and fell backward from Zara, trying to counterbalance the fall, slapping the side wall with a right shoulder. She stood with a grunt, shaking a blonde ponytail with a set of throbbing pain inside a head and a back spine.

Zara back stepped, crawling from Liz and stood too, rearing and struck a right fighting fist against the cheekbone of Liz. Zara boxed the nose of Liz, misaligning a sharp angle another thirty degrees with a loud crack.

Liz stumbled backward with blood from a mouth and a nose, falling over and hit the bedroom armoire with a shoulder.

Zara moved forward, tossing a right fighting punch that Liz lifted and blocked with both hands, both arms and a shoulder.

The two unarmed females danced in hand-to-hand combat, attempting to subdue or unbalance the legs and feet of each other.

Liz moved forward and slammed a butt head with Zara as Zara back stepped in stillness with a dizzy mind. Liz reached and grabbed a collar bone and an elbow of Zara, jerking and flung Zara to the side wall with a loud bang, turning and grabbed the second reading lamp from the tall chest of drawer, tossing at the skull of Zara.

Zara ducked and rolled into the side wall with a grunt of pain.

Liz spun around and grabbed the Ghost from the edge of the bed mattress, swinging around, firing the Ghost.

Zara turned and tucked into the low chest of nine-drawers for protection.

Liz stood upright and aimed the Ghost into the hidden wall corner with Zara.

Austin turned and grabbed, tossing his novel from the nightstand into the skull of Liz.

Liz screamed and wobbled side to side with direct hit and instant pain.

Zara scooted from the wall in a crouch, gliding over the carpet on her kneecaps, attacking from below, grabbing Liz's shooting arm, flinging the Ghost out of her hands.

The females displayed strength, endurance, and peak muscle stamina with the on-going feuding high intensity strenuous death match

Zara performed a hard hitting martial art strike at the forehead on Liz, lifting and hit a leg high in the air into the lips of Liz and stood upright, lifting and buried two finger tips in Liz's eyeballs, blinding her.

Liz stumbled onto the floor with a dull thump.

Zara squatted and reached out, lifting and grabbed, standing on her elbows and aimed the Ghost into the air, shooting out air balls, since the clip was empty and turned, tossing the Ghost to Austin. Zara leaped into the air and landed on top of Liz, throttling the throat of Liz, chocking the living daylights out of the evil soul for giving Zara's black eye, trying to kill Liz for framing Zara with the setup of Austin's former girlfriends.

The unique fighting environment impressed the hell out of Austin as he leaned over and scratched a set of finger pads for the Ghost in the center of mattress and grabbed, pulling back and reached the nightstand. He grabbed a second clip of razors from the drawer, reloading the Ghost, aiming with a two-fisted Ghost steady for a clear shot at the hairy skull of Liz.

Liz leaped from the wall and bounced over the carpet and into standing Zara, twirling down and around and arms locked with a set of two strong arms, wrapping the biceps and the hands completely around the kneecaps of Zara.

Zara stumbled forward over the skull of Liz, crashing down over the carpet with a soft thump.

Austin lifted and aimed the Ghost at the rear skull of Liz.

Liz spun around with a sneer at Berrington, falling against the pink wall. Austin fired and plowed a barrage of sharp deadly blades into the middle forehead, a right eyeball, the throat, a right shoulder, and a right leg at Liz, making a set of soft zinging sounds through the air waves.

Liz staggered forward on her sneakers with shocked painful sensations, mouth drooling, snarling at Austin and tumbled backward from him and the bed mattress. Her bloody back spine marked the pink wall, slumping down with a bloody trail down to the floor, falling into a crumble of limbs as she softly laughed then violently coughed and finally quietly whizzed her last breath. Liz did not move.

Austin rose up and stood on a naked body from the bed mattress, aiming the Ghost at Liz. His eyeballs darted to Zara, who rested over the bloody carpet inside a wall corner, seeing only a pair of her bloody sneakers.

Frank, Stu, and Tom swiftly rushed up the staircase in a pair of bed slippers, stopping and stood into the archway of Austin's bedroom, slamming open the door as each wore a pair of colorful pajama bed clothes. A Ghost was raised in a shooting hand along with the four QA guards from two sentry gates.

Big Man yelled inside the archway, "Austin?"

"Fine," Austin shuffled from the bundle of pink colored bed covers with a whisper, standing naked in the middle of the bedroom, looking down at a pair of bloody sneakers that belonged to Zara, exhaling with a huff of relief.

The Quartet turned and surveyed a mess of items, the smell of fresh blood, and the scene of a cat fighting exchange between the two females and Austin. They scattered and moved a pair of bed slippers around the still bodies of each female.

Frank stopped and stood, applying a set of bandages on the bloody arm of Austin with his personal physician medical kit.

"Liz?" Austin turned with a sneer and stared at bloody Liz.

Stu stopped and squatted with a nod and a sneer, touching her bloody throat, "Lizard is dead as a door knob."

"Liz is the true murderer of all the girls that I had dated once." Austin exhaled, "Zara?"

"She's dead." Tom stopped and stood in place in a pair of bed slippers, staring with a pair of sad eyeballs at a dead Zara.

"Damn it to hell!" Austin shouted with angry.

"Did she get hit too?" Frank turned and dashed to Zara, squatting and examined the body of the brave pilot, hoping that Tom was wrong.

"Your Ghost, Austin!" Stu reached and lifted, displaying the blood covered Ghost of Austin in the air with a sour frown.

He reached and pulled out the object from her skull. "The razor was embedded into her brain." Frank exhaled with a huff of sorrow, staring at the bloody object. "Miss Zara Zeta Zenith is dead."

"Damn it to hell," Austin stared at the pair of bloody sneakers with a whisper.

Continue the deadly and dangerous adventures with the four non-biological brother billionaires in the second novel which is entitled The Quartet, Jane ....

