<div align="center">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/1d66/x3ag39dthqn9fim6g.jpg) <br/><br/>_________________</div><br/><div class="floatleft"> (https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/5afc/ao49e6465nqdvqr6g.jpg) <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Anastasia<br/>___ <br/>aka Nasty Jaclyn</span></strong></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Of course, there is a charge for all this scheming.  It’s just like any part of the business—whether I enjoy it or not, I get recompense.  The boys are paying my retainer and I even get to pick the restaurant.<br/><br/>We enter and the host gives me a look.  I acknowledge and we’re taken to my table.  <br/><br/>“You’ve made clear what is expected in hell have you not?”  That gets a <em>but of course</em> nod from Ari.<br/><br/>“Well then, let’s eat, drink and be merry.”  I smile, whispering <em>“for tomorrow we . . . get, errr me gets kidnapped or something.”</em>  That gets a rueful smile from Ari at least.  Not from Peter though.<br/><br/>“If there is to be a last meal, this is where you’d want to have it.” <br/>  <br/></span><div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/0d06/edp7l4ylbdz97uv6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Ari Warcaof </span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Businessman <br/>(of sorts) </span></strong></div></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Our paid dining companion is proving to be worth the steep price.  She’s quite bubbling and entertaining.  Peter’s not charmed by her or quite himself when looking over the menu.  When Jaclyn resurfaces he should be his old self; all will be good.  Not to worry.  I look up from the menu, smiling.<br/><br/>“What do you recommend Jaclyn?  Hopefully, the meal even surpasses this décor.” <br/>   <br/></span><div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/4474/fy1ijwqfvup45ew6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Peter Warcaof</span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">CGDA Benefactor</span></strong></div></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">It’s a good plan.  It’s a good plan.  That’s what I keep telling myself.  The restaurant does appear to have a good, possibly great menu, depending on chef execution.  (Grimace)  I’m not happy that I’m actually waiting to hear what Anastasia might say about the menu.<br/><br/>The lights flicker, then we’re in total darkness.  A hand holding a cloth covers my mouth and nose.  Forcefully, I thrust up with my arm.  But I’m pulled back and tumble out of my chair.  There’s a blinding flash of light.  The hand reaches for me again.  I grab the wrist, and pull towards me, kicking at knee level—there’s a crunch and grunt.  My thigh throbs, I nearly buckle—stabbed! A knife!<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></span><div align="center">________<br/>(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/01c2/8gacz211gxuiape6g.jpg)<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">I hear Ari: “Peter!”  Still dark, somehow the two of us are now standing back to back—no one is on us.  We’ve done this before, we know what to do.  <strong>“Ari.”</strong> <br/><br/>A single candle is lit.  Attackers gone.  Nasty gone.<br/></span></div>