Arny patiently indulged his staff as they taunted him over actually coming in to the office, and on a Monday to boot. He listened to the jibes and nodded with good humour as they described changes that the company had undergone during his absence. Did he know it was an advertising business? The digs were not lost on him for one minute.

He greeted his secretary, accepted her comments, and sought sanctuary in his office behind the stack of mail and phone messages. Cutter and Glimb's rise to the top of their industry had happened in no small part to Arny's ability to write copy that clients absolutely fell in love with. It was almost nine years ago to the day that he celebrated a birthday by meeting Gretta, getting a major compliment from his boss and winning a huge contract with his copy writing. His extraordinary success allowed for his casual work habits, most of which occurred remotely.

His line lit up and he answered with his name.

"Arnold Wainwright?"

"Yes. Who is this please?"

"Your old friend, Arnold... from the Philippines." Arny gripped the phone and sagged back in his chair. "I was calling to see if you and the lovely Gretta and I could get together for a drink."

"Strom?"

"Bingo! So what do you say?"

"What do you want, Strom, we aren't involved in that business any more."

"Really? Well all the more reason to touch base then. We wouldn't want to let a nice relationship with fellow adventurers lapse, miss out on rehashing old times, eh?"

Arny took out his cell phone and hit the button for home. When Gretta answered, he held it up to the mouthpiece and spoke to Strom. Gretta swore to herself and whispered to Arny to find out what he could and then get straight home.

"You sound distracted, Arnold. Am I interrupting something?"

"What do you really want, Strom?"

"I think I already have what I want now. You should learn a little more about modern technology, Arnold. See you soon." The line went dead and Arny stared at the receiver, looking puzzled.

><><><><

"We either change quarters for a while or we dig in and face him down here." Gretta was in, no nonsense mode.

"What is this, the old west?" He tossed his coat on a chair and paced angrily. "How could he find us anyway?"

"With a computer and a few clever hacks, he tracked you down through the telephone company or your own company's database."

"So now it's my fault?"

"Arny, do you ever stop to look at the entire picture and not just the part you're in? Strom wants me. He figures to settle some macho score; you would be acceptable, if not desirable, collateral damage."

"Oh thanks. Thanks a lot."

She made a soft face and finger kissed his cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you, sweetums."

"I don't need your protection, Gretta." His skin darkened as the blush lightened.

"Well I need yours, lover." She hugged him tight, mewling with mock insecurity.

"Okay, okay." He hugged her in return, dazed over his acceptance of everything she did.

><><><><

After checking her watch for the hundredth time, the woman got up from her seat and immediately the businessman gulped down his coffee, dropped some money on the table and followed her out onto the sidewalk. Danzig watched as he casually caught up with her and started speaking. He tossed a handful of bills on his plate and left the patio after them.

The pillbox in his pocket felt comforting but not with the same sense of reliability it normally provided and he felt himself distracted as he followed them through the revolving door into the office tower. The woman seemed uncomfortable and a little anxious to separate herself from the man, but was too polite to make the break.

He moved up right up beside them and they all stepped into the elevator together, along with several others, and by the sixteenth floor were the only passengers remaining. Danzig reached across and pushed the stop button.

"Hey, what the hell do think you're doing!?" The man shouted.

"Something this young lady would approve of, I'm sure." He stepped toward the man and in a split second the eyes bugged wide, and the briefcase clattered to the floor. Staring down, the man coughed as the stain spread over the front of his suit jacket. His shirt hung out in a blood-soaked shred, and the scream was silent as he slid down the wall to the floor.

A swift hand over the woman's mouth stopped her noisy reaction and Danzig wiped his knife on her sleeve, smiling eerily.

"He was just too rude, wasn't he?" Her eyes grew wider and he could feel her shaking all the way to her toes. "Now, we can get off the elevator and take the stairs downstairs or we could stay here and discuss your future."

He lifted his hand slightly as she tried to speak. "D- down stairs..."

"Excellent." He pushed the start button and then the next floor and when the elevator stopped, checked for witnesses before dragging her quickly down to the fire stairs.

They scrambled down a few floors, trying each door but there was always somebody in the hall. Danzig was beginning to sweat. He stopped and took out a hanky to wipe his face. The woman stared, terrified, tears streaking her makeup and even staining her blouse. He ran his eyes over her and his hand fumbled for the pillbox in his pocket. He opened it and extracted one, rolling it in his fingers, undecided.

She sobbed and began pleading for him to let her go and not hurt her. His mind clamped shut and he quickly swallowed the pill and shoved her to the corner of the landing. He couldn't understand the difference in his reaction. Somehow the comforting images of his dream had changed to an unrecognizable scenario. He never sweated like this before; he was always calm and determined. The rush of feeling the lives of his victims in his hands became elusive and instead of the precise and practiced act, he was fumbling and blundering.

The fresh air of the street washed over his damp face prickling his skin with a cool touch as he strode quickly away from the office tower. His heart raced and he feared there might be something wrong inside. Never before had he experienced such confounding doubt and stress. The pills had never failed before, never distorted the safe retreat into the dream... until today. He found his mind spinning back to the young woman in the stairwell, her empty, staring eyes.

The climax of a scream frozen on her face and her crumpled body in the tangle of clothing, looking like so much discarded wrapping paper. There had been no following sensation of pleasure. No satisfaction in the final act. He shook his head and wiped the perspiration from his face. His focus had to be on the job now—on Gretta Lawrence and Jacob Strom.

Danzig clenched his fists and moved with deliberation to where he had parked his car.

><><><><

The huge space was dull and filled with scattered groups of dusty mannequins in various stages of dress. Filtered light streamed down in staggered rays from the dirty skylights augmenting the grungy cluttered look of the interior. Showroom furniture and some old gym equipment loitered at random and artificial plants and trees leaned sadly, weighted down by dust, dirt and what must have been years of disuse. CONGA owned the property but left this space in the unkempt condition to dissuade any attention from the fact that it was a, congress safe house. Arny stood gaping about the room and then at Gretta in disbelief.

"You have to be kidding. This is your idea of a change of quarters?"

"Neat, huh." She slung her pack up onto an old desk and pounded the dust from a chair before collapsing into it with a weary groan.

"Gretta." He dropped his own bag at his feet. "Tell me this is a joke. Where are we supposed to sleep or eat or even wash for that matter?"

"Try that door behind the vaulting horse."

He pivoted and looked at the door where she pointed. "That one?"

Go on, have a peek."

He walked behind the horse and opened the heavy, metal door. Night and day! A large, all-in-one room of brightly painted walls, carpeting that ran wall-to-wall, a stainless steel cooking centre and in the far corner, a queen bed with twin dressers and a large flat panel TV. He moved into the room, examining everything with amazement.

There were no windows but an indirect lighting system gave the room a natural glow, soft but functional. An enclosed cubicle in another corner contained a three-piece washroom, stocked with all the necessities. He wandered back to the warehouse area and made a hurt face.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yes." She stood and grabbed her pack, waltzing past him with a saucy gait straight to the bed where she quickly stripped right down and padded to the shower.

"Don't mind me. I'll find something to do." He called after her and with a heave of his shoulders, locked the safe room door.

Freshly showered, Gretta dressed again, this time in black jeans and a sleek grey blouse that Arny admired. Next, she called CONGA and reported the fact that they were in the safe house and all the perimeter alarms were activated. Cheesy advised her that several agents were watching the warehouse in shifts and would notify her immediately if they saw anything suspicious. Meanwhile, she and Arny were to stay put. Any necessary supplies would be brought in; they were not to go out.

"Do any of the big brains have an idea as to just how long this hiding out will last?"

"Nope. If Strom and or Danzig are looking for us they'll have a heck of a time finding us here so once we learn when they've tried our apartment and your workplace we can figure they'll pack their tents and go home."

"Why?"

"Because, they know we know they are after us and so by our not being there they'll have to conclude we've gone to ground and that our place is likely under surveillance. Strom is a wanted man in the Philippines and Danzig has been wanted everywhere for ages; they can't afford to stick around one place too long." She opened the refrigerator and took out a packaged of sliced ham. "Fancy a cold dinner?"