<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/90d9/ec6u1j9bt29haur6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center"><strong>Ian O’Grady</strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center"><strong>FAI Investigator</strong></div></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">It’s a bit disconcerting, listening to Jaclyn given her body, hair, . . . chest.  <br/><br/>The other two, the portly chap (Warcaof) and Steffy seem content to let Jaclyn have the floor.  No one seems concerned that she’s going to bolt.  I’ve not set a perimeter, because I’m focused on a slightly different goal.<br/><br/>Steffy looks at her phone, clearly a text received. Distracted.<br/><br/>Jaclyn gives her view of what the politics are or would be over her arrest.  Steffy seems to buy that view to the extent of an affirmative nod.  “Yes.  The tapes are all sequestered, separately by someone I trust.  But . . . ” <br/><br/>I hesitate, but in a firm, honest voice say, “FAI, the boss and the-boss-wannabe who brought the idea up, favor your rendition.”  I feel like I’m asking my first girl for a date.  “Rendition as catch and no release.  Maybe a trial.  Maybe not.” <br/><br/>Finally, “It’s a predicament I’m trying to think for a way out.  . . . So far, no brilliant failsafe solution.” <br/></span>