This story plays fast and loose with Ancient History and Linguistics; be warned.

Being an asshole is not so much a matter of anatomy as one of social consciousness.

*****

(Where we left off)

"Bitch, did you just Taser my fiancé?" Orlando's lady stood up. Orlando was struggling back up as well.

"You are questioning the obvious," Estere mused as she dropped the device. She deftly pulled out what I thought was a compact Bersa 9 and began applying a silencer.

It was sort of amazing that no one was screaming yet, then it dawned on me that we were in a soundproofed room and Estere was standing at the only exit.

"Would you have preferred I use this?" the Hashashin killer motioned with her firearm.

"How did you get a gun in here?" Brennan stammered. He looked ready to pee himself, so tonight was coming out in spades.

"Estere," I greeted the woman from Kurdistan. "Those two are okay," motioning to Orlando and his lady. "He's got some testosterone issues - I'm sure you understand."

"Is this a kidnapping?" Anima sounded rather upbeat.

"Your rung on the Ladder of Heaven is not high," Estere commented to Anima. "Your outlook is not promising either. Silence is your best option, so exercise it."

"Cáel, do you know this woman?" Libra had begun piecing things together - as in - my life was so crazy that women with guns showing up was much too common an occurrence. I thought about 'Yes Honey, she's a member of an 11th century mystic order of Nazri Ismailis assassins. In fact, her people gave us the word assassin'. Telling the truth at this juncture didn't seem wise, so...

"Yes, Estere and I are old pals," I lied. "She's a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer." Don't bother looking it up - Olmec-tastic is a made up word; it is the crunching of Olmec (a Mesoamerican pre-Columbian culture) and '-tastic' which means...I guess it is a truncated form of 'fantastic'.

"You mean she's in 'record reduction', the same as you?" Casper whispered.

"Pre-cisely!" I grinned her way. "Except she's got a Masters diploma on some wall somewhere alongside the shrunken heads of her first three victims - I mean clients - Clients!" Why was I blathering? There was a strange (to most of the room) woman between us and the only exit and panicking would suck - big time.

Pause.

"So, Orlando," I restarted things, "are you going to get up and attempt to kick my ass, causing my friend here to shoot you, or can I return to explaining to Brennan how the world is NOT his oyster and I'm willing to slam anal beads made of flesh-eating scarabs up his rectum to prove it?"

That was a gross visual, even for me. A momentary pause as Brooke and her new friend wedged their way toward me (and the girl with the gun).

"Every time we meet," Estere observed, "you are surrounded with a curtain of women."

"Sucks to be me?" I shrugged.

"At least these are sheep," she noted. That didn't go over well. Libra confronted Estere.

"Hey now, you can't talk about us that way," Libra insisted.

"Or what?" Estere regarded her.

"Or...or, Cáel will make you stop," Libra growled...THEN looked at me. Wrong sequence of events.

"Libra," I pulled her back into my embrace, "I've been on the job about a month. She's been making character-building life decisions since before I hit puberty."

"What was that - a month ago," Brennan snorted. A yelp followed. Estere had shot at him. "What the fuck!" he staggered back into his seat. "You shot me."

"No, I shot 'at' you. Had I shot you, you would be bleeding," Estere glowered. "I am not one of Cáel's normal guardians. I take insults to any women as a personal affront - a sickness best dealt with in a pain-filled, educational fashion. You are not bleeding because that would displease Cáel. Now say 'thank you' in the next ten seconds, or be prepared to go through life as a eunuch."

Brennan looked to Orlando in hopes he had some secret mojo to handle this situation.

"Dumbass," Orlando snarled at Brennan, "you are the punk who put us in a room with only one damn exit. I'm not taking a bullet for you."

"You are the martial artist," Brennan snapped back. "Do something!"

"Brennan, you had better say something quick." Casper urged her host.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Brennan whined.

"I have crippled supplicants for groveling with twice that level of passion, Cáel Ishara," Estere stared at me. She began removing her silencer. "Cáel and I have unfinished business, so I will let this pathetic insult pass."

She shoulder holstered her weapon and moved to sit at my side. The problem was the passel of ladies around me. Estere looked past the last woman (Brooke) to the somewhat stupefied rich thing beside her.

"Move," she stated politely. Unlike my difficulties earlier, the whole crowd quickly shuffled down to make space.

That tiny hiccup settled, we returned to the abnormal activities of the Illusions Gentlemen's Club's private room. Some of us had fun. A few, used to tormenting the staff, found themselves shooting fearful looks Estere's way whenever they began to act out. I took a few seconds to quietly talk to Estere, now that I had some breathing room.

"I talked with Ishara - the Goddess," I related. "She's pissed with the Host right now and I'm not sure what to do." Divulging information? Yes. I needed help somewhat badly.

"Your Order has been out of balance for some time," Estere counseled. "Without balance, there can be no true strength. You are dying out and there must be a blemish behind that - some cancer eating away at the foundation of your belief system."

Wow...actually useful. Essentially ... I needed to stay the course.

"Cool. Thanks Estere," I smiled. "Can I plumb the depths of your knowledge for two more pieces of advice?" We both knew what 'plumb' really meant. I pulled out the necklace from beneath my shirt. "An Earth & Sky envoy sent me this gift, but...the message didn't make it."

"What would a suitable gift be and how would I find the person in New York City?" I asked.

"That is not a gift," Estere smiled warmly. "That is a token of passage from a Beg of the E&S - essentially a regional commander. Pretty impressive. Unfortunately, he, or she, is expecting you to return it at some pre-described place and time...which was probably stated in the message you never received."

"My turn," she twisted in her bench seat and placed her left leg over me then inserted it between my legs. "What will be the fate of our daughter?"

"She will automatically be a member of the Host. Heritage passes through the male line. If she has the genetics that conspire against fate, then she would be in the running to become Head of House."

"Not automatic?" she questioned.

"No. Such things, at least while decided by me, will be based upon merit. I couldn't keep faith with the members of the House otherwise," I explained.

"Would she be allowed to be passed between us?" was the next question.

"Absolutely. Not only am I a huge fan of motherhood; I see such an education making her stronger and more flexible when dealing with issues with outsiders," I assured Estere.

"You act freely. Don't you have to consult your High Priestess - perhaps the Council?" she mused. "I must seek direction from my superiors."

"Over the welfare of my children? Nope, not happening. The daughters and sons of...the House are our responsibility as a group. We do not need the other Houses meddling in our affairs," I stated.

"That is good," she snuggled up even tighter. Sadly for that romantic moment, we had less romantic company to contend with.

(Later that Night)

Why was I still at Casa da Sulkanen? Brennan couldn't take a hint, buy a clue, or learn a lesson. Why was Estere with us? It was the Pamela factor. Who was going to tell her to leave? After five, non-continuous hours of sex with three women (Casper still hadn't come over to our side yet), how was I still standing? Simply put, I wasn't.

Brooke and I were in the nicely heated pool, her arms wrapped around my neck, mine massaging her naked buttocks and us doing a little whisper/snicker/tickle/giggle game that is very whimsical and hard to explain. Brooke went from micro-orgasm to micro-orgasm to the Big One. Fortunately, our mutual experience allowed me to be in water shallow enough that my toes could touch bottom.

"I've decided I'm not jealous of Estere," Brooke panted into my ear. "I see the happiness in your eyes when we make love. I think you and I are doing okay." Not quite a Writ of Possession. I was working out the uncomplicated response when our gentle, body-bonded, circular motion caused Brooke to tense up. I followed her gaze to the lounge chair where we had stacked up our belongings, and the dark, dark blonde-haired women sitting in it.

Her dress was business chic yet rumpled. Her eyes had the lines of someone who spent too much time looking at a computer screen and she looked mentally and emotionally drained.

"Good evening," I greeted her. I steered Brooke toward the closest ladder only to realize that even our towels were by her seat. There was nothing we could do but face the situation head on.

"I'm Cáel Nyilas and my beautiful friend here is Brooke Lee," I made our introductions. "Please excuse our condition, but we weren't expecting company at this hour by the pool."

"You are not my brother's normal flock of seagulls," she commented. "Hana Sulkanen, by the way." The way 'seagulls' rolled off her tongue, I knew she meant 'winged rats' instead of any true avian.

Oh cool; she had a Carnegie-Melon ring. Oh cool; she was watching my still erect penis bobbing her way. I thought a little damage control/diplomacy was in order.

"As I said, I'm Cáel. I work as an intern at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Brooke recently graduated Vassar, was going to get married to some other guy, but that fell through a little while ago," I directed the conversation to Brooke and I not being parasites.

"School?" Hana inquired. So much for that.

"Bolingbrook in New Hampshire," I answered.

"Never heard of it," she yawned. Brooke simmered with outrage over that.

"You and 99.99% of North America," I joked. "It doesn't change the fact that I kick ass at my job, am constantly underestimated and enjoy making my own way in the world."

"And you consider making your own way in the world to be swimming in my father's pool at four in the morning?" she snorted. Her drink was a V-8. No alcohol for her.

"We came because Cáel's father was murdered this week," Brooke snapped. "He needed a break." That brought a few seconds.

"Really now," she regarded me studiously. Out came the E-device.

"Ferko Nyilas - Burnham Illinois which is a suburb of Chicago," I fed her the pertinent data. Brooke was even unhappier that I felt compelled to verify her statement, so I distracted her by suggesting we gather our belongings.

"Your father was killed in a gun battle - still under investigation," Hana muttered.

"Are you some sort of criminal? Was your father?" she probed.

"Ah, I see you possess the same level of common courtesy as your brother, Brennan," I responded. "To answer the first and only question I feel like answering - no; making my own way in the world means I don't answer the questions of exhausted, over-extended, junior plutocrats who somehow assume they can provide any useful input to my life."

Verbal hammer to her facial self-esteem. Hana was a 'producer' in that she had a job she felt she deserved, worked at it to some acclaim and added to her family's productivity - the opposite of Brennan.

"If you feel insulted, by all means leave, Mr. Nyilas," Hana glared.

"Oh, thank God," I sighed happily. I began dressing, as did Brooke. Hana looked uncertain.

"Cáel's been looking for a cordial excuse to get us out of here since we arrived," Brooke explained. "I imagine I should thank you. I wasn't sure how I'd keep Cáel from punching out your little brother over breakfast." Hana looked out-maneuvered.

"What is that?" Hana pointed to my horse-hoof necklace. She almost reached for it, then politesse kicked in.

"It is gift from a stranger," I told her. "It is from Central Asia."

"May I see it?" she inquired. I nodded, then handed it over.

"Looks old," she muttered. "The language...it's not Uzbek..." Seeing the curious look on my face, "I do some business for my step-father in the old SSR's, so I've picked up some of the languages." Then, "I swear it's Chagatai." (SSR = Soviet Socialist Republics.)

"Where is that from?" Brooke leaned in.

"Nowhere today. For 500 years, it was the lingua franca of the Turkish people ... until the Soviets wiped it out a hundred years ago. They wanted Russian to be the unifying language, so they promoted regional tongues and regulated Chagatai to the long list of dead languages," she answered.

[Russian] "In Soviet Russia, you do not speak a language, a language speaks for you." I joked.

Hana snorted.

[Russian] "Be careful comrade, or your cleverness might get you promoted to the rank of apparatchik," she snickered. I feigned horror.

"No!" Brooke protested. "Speak something I can understand, damn it."

I quickly translated for Brooke as the three of us migrated inside. Hana led us to a third, and newer, section of the estate. The goal was her purse and the reading glasses there in. Compared to the few bedrooms we'd seen, Hana's room was rather austere.

"Well, I know Uzbek and this is similar...say Canterbury Tales English to Modern American," she mused.

"The only thing I know for sure is that it belonged to Shahrukh Mirza of the House of Barlas," she read off several of the symbols. No one said anything. "Please don't tell me you found this at some rummage sale, or flea market." she grew intense.

"No. As I said earlier, it was a gift and given with the understanding it would be returned at a future place and time," I told her.

"Too bad. I would pay a pretty penny for this," she held it up to the light for further examination.

"I'm not one of those dreamers that feels money cheapens stuff and blah - blah - blah. Money has its uses," I countered. "I also believe some things are priceless. They either can't, or shouldn't, be sold. As I said, this was a gift meant to be returned."

"Maybe you can put me in touch with the owner so I can make them an offer," Hana suggested.

"I'd do that except that I have no idea who gave it to me, or where I am to return it," I shrugged. Hana was now looking for some deception on my part. "It was delivered to my place of work and a person who intercepted the necklace destroyed the message that came with it."

"Well, I hope they got a stiff reprimand, if not outright loss of employment," Hana sighed.

"Oh no," I chuckled. "That's not the Havenstone way. My people and I are going to stalk her and her people down and then beat/stab/scar each and every one of them. What she did wasn't a mistake. This was a direct and calculated insult that only blood will cleanse."

"That sounds positively Old Testament," Hana nodded.

"Cáel's women don't kid around," Brooke added.

"Really, now. What is it exactly that you do?" Hana asked me.

"This should be good," Brooke muttered through her saucy grin.

"I'm a facilitator for an aerospace project with our R&D division," I feigned concentration. "Its high-tech stuff - I don't understand all the details. I'm relatively positive we are creating nano-thin, artificial polymers for balloons aimed at space. You know, fill up the aerial unit with Helium, create a powerful x-direction buoyancy then let the package accelerate into high orbit."

"I've never heard of anything like that," Hana furrowed her brow.

"Neither has anyone else before now," Brooke laughed, then hugged me. "The miraculous part is - I think he creates these employment opportunities off the cuff - no rehearsal."

"Wait - you just lied to me?" Hana grew petulant.

"Yes, I did and I apologize, Hana," I looked rather shamefaced. "I work as an intern for Executive Services. I am also on the Board of Directors, but that's a truth best gotten into at another time."

"Oh...if you are on the Board of Directors for Havenstone, how can you be an intern?" Hana frowned.

"I was given the position on the board, I earned the position of intern," I answered. "Being a guiding force for a corporation I know nothing about is rather stupid, in my book."

"I couldn't agree more," Hana said thoughtfully and seemed make a severe weather-vane shift. Brooke stifled a yawn rather unsuccessfully and it quickly made a circuit of our little troupe. It was bedtime for us all.

(Breakfast and fast breaks)

I could have used a good deal more sleep. But I knew working out and jogging were better for my body and soul. Brooke and Libra acted as if I had betrayed their friendship in favor of torture. Estere took secretive amusement at their suffering and at my ability to stress myself as hard as I did. She had already enjoyed the physical benefits of my exercise mania last night.

A wonderful distraction to the whole ordeal (beyond listening to Libra and Brooke spit death curses at me between ragged gasps of breath) was the rising sun setting the Atlantic Ocean on fire.

We had been summoned for breakfast at 9:30 am. That translated to me and three lady companions showing up to an overly large dining room on time to find Hana already there.

The South wall was a series of French doors, all open, whose long white curtains billowed in the morning breeze. It was a bit chilly for our 'beach casual' attire, yet survivable. A staffer I hadn't seen before verbally related this morning's menu - blink. By quick consensus, we agreed to order the same things to make our orders easier to recall.

In hindsight, that was probably unnecessary. The woman servicing us was very professional. She was also sympathetic enough to our efforts at kindness to acknowledge it. The vigor with which we demolished our fruit bowls caused Hana to chuckle.

"Building up your energy reserves?" she teased us. Libra and Estere didn't know Hana.

"He made us run this morning," Brooke griped. "It was utter Hell."

"On the beach?" Hana asked me.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Try running along the road next time," Hana snorted. "It is easier on the arches."

Libra hit me with a backhand to the bicep.

"Asshole," she glowered. "You had better get those magic fingers to work on my calves when breakfast is over."

"What's in it for me?" I countered.

"Oh, have mercy, Cáel," Brooke pleaded. "You do this every day...as does Estere apparently, but Libra and I don't. Help us out here."

"We have a masseuse," Hana offered. "He's very good. I can give him a call and have him come over from the spa."

"Please do, Ms. Sulkanen. I'm feeling a real yen for some time alone this morning," I requested.

"I can do that, Cáel, and call me Hanna," she finished just as...

"Hey Hana," Brennan yawned as he came stumbling into the room wearing boxers and nothing more. "Brooke, Kibble, Lisa," he added. His not unimpressive cock was strategically placed in the opening.

Hana rolled her eyes in disgust. Brooke snickered. Libra did one better.

"I didn't know they made them that small," she said to Brooke who began giggling.

"Shut up, you lesbian freak," Brennan's amusement evaporated to bitterness. The attendant showed up, got his order and then the orders of the next two to stagger in.

The low course of the conversation included the arrival of Orlando and his fiancée, only to dissipate with the appearance of Anima leading Casper. Casper could barely take her seat, even with Anima's help. Anima's look was victorious and challenging. Casper...she was stoned, wasted and not in anything approaching her right mind. Her body was sweaty and her hair was slick.

The kicker was the splotches of dried semen and vaginal fluid on Casper's face.

"Say 'hi' to Cáel," Anima pressed the issue.

"Hi," Casper waved as her body swayed. Hana was uncomfortable. Libra and Brooke were furious. Estere was...studious. Anima's eyes remained lock on mine.

I pulled out my phone and began taking pictures of the participants. By the time I made it to Brennan, he was laughing and joking at my efforts. Orlando had a different tack.

"What are you doing?" he menaced.

"Life should be about moral decisions, compassion and consequences," I related drolly. "You made your call last night. Live with it."

I finished the photo session while Orlando was still trying to figure out what was going on. I had to use my phone for a different function.

"Buffy, I'm sending you several pictures of people who think they are above the law. Those people raped, or facilitated the rape of the woman in the final picture," I told the First of House Ishara. "I cautioned those people about appropriate behavior last night."

"They chose to ignore me. The legal system can't touch them. I don't know what a proper punishment for such a horrendous act is, so I thought you might give me some council on this matter," I added. Long pause.

"Don't worry about it, Cáel," Buffy responded in a ghostly voice.

"Take care and I'll see you on Monday," I finished up. She hung up and that was it.

"That was spooky," Brennan chuckled. "How about I make a scary phone call and mention the words 'Cáel' and 'trash collection'?" I ignored him. "I could call the sheriff and have you charged with menacing." I continued to ignore him. "Stop serving him," he snapped at the server as she came to my plate.

"Serve him breakfast, Donna (the server)," Hana interrupted. "He's my guest, Brennan, so no longer your worry." I didn't acknowledge Hana's kindness as this was still part of a family feud and I wasn't family. I'd thank her later. The Vacuous Think Tank members weren't done yet. The privileged shit-heads began playing a video on their ultimate phone devices, sexually feeble soundtrack included.

Deep down in Casper's mind she began to put the current audio input to her recent nightmare. Tears fell down her cheeks. On the video, the name 'Casper' was used enough to move it past the throws of ecstasy into the realm of sorry-ass amateur date-rape porn.

"We may have broken Casper a teensy bit," Anima feigned sincere regret well.

"Oh," I chuckled, "it is too late for word play now, Anima. That train has left the station and the whole crew here missed it. I warned you about slithering horrors and the beautification of humanity. Here is the final lesson..."

"Fuck you and your bullshit," Brennan mocked me.

"Brennan - my guest," Hana insisted. His response was to blather some noise - nah, nah, nah - an act several of his playmates took up. It was a display more appropriate for 5 year olds than men and women above the age of consent. Estere tapped Brooke next to her, motioning with her fork to a melon ball in her bowl. After a momentarily confusion Brooke tossed the melon up.

Estere tossed the fork, skewering it with enough force to sail past me and land on Libra's plate. Two more exhibits, including the final one that had her spitting her thrown melon on a tumbling fork and Estere turned on Brennan, fork ready. The melons were nearly the size of eyeballs.

"Do it and go to jail for fucking ever," Brennan tried to 'man-up'.

"Diplomatic immunity," she smiled. "I doubt the government of Azerbaijan will give a rat's ass about you and your drug-consuming, alcohol-guzzling, whoring lifestyle. The worst that happens to me is that I have to go home for a few months. You will be blind forever." Estere revealed her second fork.

"Not this morning, Bitch," Orlando stood up. "I'm not afraid of forks and side-show tricks." I stood up as well, but went in a different direction. Brennan was at the top of the table - Hana was at the bottom. Casper and Anima were on the opposite side of the table and closer to Hana so that was the route I took.

Anima, Brennan and Orlando had a problem. Estere was threatening Brennan. I was clearly coming to retrieve Casper. The quandary was which way Orlando went - he couldn't both safeguard Brennan and stop me. I was pretty sure that Brennan was convinced Orlando would come his aid because of his role as paymaster.

Orlando Keyes wasn't a thug, or a dog. He was a tactician and he planned to win this fight. Contrary to my desires, that meant I came first. I was far closer and getting nearer all the time. Even if Estere managed to fork out one of Brennan's eyes, Estere couldn't contribute to the fight with me quickly enough to make a difference.

"Casper, you want to stay with your friends, don't you?" Anima cooed to her victim. Casper's head bobbled, making a tragic contrast to her tears. Hana had done as much as she dared at this juncture. Orlando came closer, snatching up an unused chair to counter my knife. I backed up. It was my only true choice.

Charging forth against Orlando certainly would have been romantic. It would have also been futile. I couldn't beat the man - hurting him didn't equate to actually winning. Estere blinding Brennan accomplished nothing. When I had back-pedaled to Hana, Orlando relented. Once his bladder-weakening fear turned into post-survival euphoria, Brennan started laughing.

"Fucking dipshit," he sneered. The thump of helicopter blades began dominating perceptions. "I knew you didn't have it in you. You are a wimp and a chicken-shit coward." Brooke and Libra were worried and confused.

"He could not win against Mr. Keyes," Estere stated to them. "Getting pummeled would have been a wasteful gesture."

"Oh, now you are his apologist." a random fuck-nut snorted. The helicopter kept getting closer.

"What about Casper?" Brooke worried. Anima smirked at the show of heartfelt concern.

"They haven't gotten her out of the room yet," Estere pointed out. "Once they depart the table we will be able to double-team Mr. Keyes and break him. The aftermath is an absolute certainty."

"I don't think so," Orlando challenged.

"Oh yes," Estere grinned wolfishly. "Once we have you on the ground, I'm going to shatter your palms then tear off your fingers. Pull up, twist and snap - I've done it several times; it is quick and easy. If you think you can continue your career without fists, by all means, stay on your present course of action."

"What is it that you do again?" Hana asked Estere.

"I'm a...a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer; according to Cáel anyway," she answered.

"From Azerbaijan?" Hana murmured.

"I never said I was from there, only that I have diplomatic status with their UN mission," Estere clarified. Hana said something in an unknown tongue to which Estere responded. Their conversation lasted about one minute.

"We both speak Farsi, though mine is 'schooled' and hers has a Tabriz accent," Hana enlightened us.

"I apologize for last night, Cáel," Hana nodded. "I mistook you for one of my little step-brother's normal crowd of useless nitwits. You appear to be both smart and know interesting people." 'And how', I muttered internally.

"I take it your daughter is with Philip," Brennan intervened. "Miss her?"

By this time, the helicopter had traversed the ocean-side view of the villa and was humming its way to the east end of the estate. Philip must have been Hana's divorced whatever who most likely had alternating weekends of child custody.

"Cáel, you mentioned something about a 'final lesson'," Hana turned to me.

"Only this: there was a woman who trusted a man. She decided to leave him; so he, and a few buddies, held her down and gang-raped her for two days. When they passed out, she didn't run away, or call the police. No, she took a baseball bat and knocked them into la-la land. She secured them with garbage ties, woke them up by stabbing them in non-vital areas and then proceeded to castrate each and every one with a dull kitchen knife.

She went to prison, got out and put her life back together. She eventually rose to a position of some importance and influence with various questionable characters at her command," I continued. "If confronted with a similar situation, especially when money renders justice mute, I'm not sure what this woman would do to assuage her haunted memories."

"Do you really want to put poor Casper up on the top twenty free porn sites, Cáel?" Anima pouted.

"Not my concern anymore," I sighed. "I put the facts out there. What other people make of that information is no longer under my control. From here on out, it doesn't matter what you do, Anima. You've chosen to act in a heinous manner, as have the rest of your crowd - Orlando and his lady included."

"If something happens..." Orlando rumbled.

"You will do nothing," Estere laughed. "You can do nothing. I know the person of whom Cáel speaks and there is nothing you can do, nowhere you can hide where she will not find all of you and balance karmic accounts."

"We didn't do anything," the fiancée proclaimed.

"Standing back and abetting a vile deed is hardly an effective defense," Estere stared with pitiless eyes. "Did you attempt to alter Mr. Keyes' course of actions - you clearly could have? You did not. Mr. Keyes safeguarded the perpetrators of the heinous deed, and thus both of you are condemned by that crime."

The boot was on the other foot now for Orlando. He couldn't come at me. He couldn't come at Estere. None of the 'men' on his side were going to stand up to any pain while Brooke and Libra, though unschooled, looked ready to be a serious nuisance. That meant Orlando would be fighting Estere and I simultaneously - and he would lose.

Worse, he would lose over a phone call that might not mean a thing. Oh, Estere and I were confident retribution was coming his way and that was unsettling. It wouldn't hold up in court and Hana's presence negated everyone else's legal immunity, except for Brennan who remained her family- the nut sack. Anima's gaze shifted from me to Libra, which my girl found unsettling.

"Cáel, what is going to happen...over this and getting Casper back?" Libra whispered. For starters, we hadn't rescued Casper yet, so there was no 'getting her back'.

"Libra, you've seen the scars crisscrossing my body - the bruises and sore ribs I've suffered through," I told her.

"Those were from the co-workers who hold deep and abiding affection toward me," I continued. "Imagine what they are capable of inflicting on those they do not like. Think about what they might do if they thought I was in danger and distressed. Couple that with the intimate knowledge of exactly what Casper has gone through ... is going through, and then draw your own conclusions." There was a pause while the others ate and Libra digested the information.

"Are we ever going to see Trent again?" she leaned in and whispered.

"It can be done, but that it isn't something either of you would enjoy," I whispered out of the side of my mouth. Sending Brooke and Libra on a one-way flight to Indonesia/Philippines definitely wasn't part of my life plan. It was the safest way to let her know Trent was alive.

"Does Brooke know?" Libra nudged me quietly. I shook my head. "Does Trent?" Another head shake. Pause. "That day in the office - when Trent dumped Brooke - you REALLY were trying to keep us from harm, weren't you?"

"Yes," I mouthed. "Now eat up."

The helicopter noises had a purpose and the consequences entered the dining room as breakfast was winding down. It was Jormo and Misty Sulkanen, aka Dad and Wife #3.

"Brennan," Jormo said in a neutral voice. We, Brennan's guests, barely rated a glance.

"Hana," Dad greeted his step-daughter with much more affection.

"Hey Dad," Brennan laughed. "You've almost missed Orlando here busting up Kibble," he waved a fork at me.

"Good Morning, Father," Hana waved, "Misty."

"Kibble?" Jormo sighed, distracted from his path further into the villa by his son's statement.

"That would be me, Mr. and Mrs. Sulkanen," I swallowed a piece of my omelet quickly and raised my hand, "though my fellow homo sapiens call me Cáel Nyilas."

"Mr. Nyilas, along with Brooke, Libra and Estere have agreed to be MY guests for the weekend," Hana added.

"Very well," her dad nodded. "Mr. Keyes, your endorsement contract with 'Fitness Tech' doesn't include you getting into fights on my behalf, or my son's." Mr. Sulkanen must have owned Fitness Tech, thus Brennan's believed power over an athlete endorsing some product.

"It also doesn't stop me from getting into unsanctioned bouts," Orlando glared at me. The tension was broken by Casper starting to sob loudly and uncontrollably.

We all did the standing-up game once more. This time Casper saw me coming back for her and stood up. Anima tried to calm the shaken woman. Orlando closed in.

"New target," Estere stated serenely. She had a fork at the ready and was staring at Orlando's fiancée. It gave me the opening I needed.

I took hold of Casper's left arm. Anima took Casper's right. This time she had misjudged the situation and I wasn't settling for a vocal educational moment. I pushed Casper aside, put both hands under Anima's arms and lifted her up.

"I told you this wasn't a game you wanted to play," I cautioned her right before I slammed her length-wise on the table.

Anima's head cracked-down hard and the breath was driven from her body.

"Mr. Nyilas!" Mr. Sulkanen shouted. "What do you think you are doing to Anima?"

"I'm not being an enabling bastard, Sir," I growled back. "Come on, Casper," I began leading her back to my seat.

"Why don't we see what security has to say about that," Jormo shot back angrily.

"Father, something has happened to the young lady - Casper - and neither Anima, nor Brennan, were adequately helping her," Hana stood up. "The last time Cáel tried, Mr. Keyes got in his way. This time, Anima discovered she wasn't the same level of deterrent."

"He slammed Anima into the table, Hana," the old wolf snarled. There was nothing wrong with this guy's macho. Anima shot me a treasured, smug glance as she rolled off the table. The spiraling tension was a super-cell caused by the Hana-Brennan poison and Jormo's displeasure with me. Hana decided to not abandon me, which allowed Brennan to go after her like a starving piranha.

"Hold on," Misty tried to calm the pseudo-sibling shouting match. She strode majestically over to me, Casper, and Libra to take a look at our charge. Within a meter there was no doubt what Casper had been put through. The smell of an orgy's aftermath, the tattered look, the listless smile belying her tears and her inability to focus, clearly chilled Misty.

We were thrust back into Sulkanen family politics. The purely human reaction was for Misty to lambast Anima and Brennan then call the cops. Except, Misty was wife number three, Hana was step-daughter from marriage number two - not even blood-relations with Jormo, and Brennan was a blood-heir for what little time he had left on Earth.

"Come with me," Misty curled an arm around Casper's waist.

"We are coming with you," Brooke announced.

"That won't be necessary," Misty smiled wanly.

"That wasn't a request," Brooke snapped angrily. "After this, I don't trust any of 'you' people."

That went over as well as a father realizing his son looked like the butler. Jormo's demeanor turned thunderous - he was being disrespected in his own home, Brennan looked happily vindictive and the rest didn't matter at the moment.

"Young lady..." the old wolf growled.

"Shut up!" Brooke screamed. "The fact that neither you, nor any of your people, are calling 9-1-1 speaks volumes about the lack of character and untrustworthiness of your clan, Mr. Sulkanen."

Brooke had just discovered her noblesse oblige. All that crap I'd been talking about the upper crust of society, the top 1% etc.; here was finally the 'face slap' that was married to the 'backhand' so many of us lower class schmucks experienced. Sulkanen was nouveau riche - a self-made man if you considered coming to America with three million in family assets to be a low enough starting point.

Brooke wasn't going to attack his credit rating, or bad-mouth him to his business associates. No, there were a ton of socially critical charities and committees that were about to be told by an impeccable source (Brooke) that Dad Sulkanen harbored his rapist son from criminal prosecution. No, this wasn't some 'nobody' being defended either. Casper wasn't known, but she was notable.

"You can certainly leave," the Old Man rumbled. "The young lady stays. I'm calling Security and my concierge physician."

"Go," I glanced to Estere and off she sprinted. A moment too slow, Brennan and Orlando clued into the threat. Orlando took after Estere.

"She's got a gun!" Brennan squealed. Jormo was busy dispensing orders over his phone as the situation spiraled. But then there was Hana.

"Mr. Nyilas, please exert some control over this situation," Hana urged.

"I'll try. Brooke, why don't you, Libra and Mrs. Sulkanen take Casper to a more comfortable setting," I suggested.

"What about your Azerbaijani friend?" Hana pressed.

"Oh," I chuckled. "Me giving Estere advice about conflict resolution is like me giving you advice on," I had to wrack my mind about something the Sulkanens were invested in, "natural gas exploration. She'll be fine."

"This way," Misty directed. I was so much more enamored and impressed with my two princesses than I had been during our initial meeting. They both shot me quick looks that said the same thing. They knew I was sending them out of harm's way, not exiling them from the decision-making process.

Only three of the remaining people weren't scared - myself (I'm an idiot), Anima (sick fuck) and Jormo Sulkanen, who seemed to know the difference between fear you could do something about, and the fear you ignored. We heard bellows from upstairs as Orlando finally discovered that he didn't know what room my group was staying in and that Estere had evaded him.

The hopeful-to-be Mrs. Keyes stood up and looked in the direction her fiancé had disappeared into.

"Don't worry," I said. "The moment Hana expressed the bonds of hospitality to Ms. Abed, you were protected from premeditated mischief." I wasn't 100% sure of that. Keeping the woman from racing after Estere was crucial.

The two security types showed up first. They must have had some part of the house dedicated to their use, because I had no idea they were about, yet here they were. They wore moderately expensive, off-the-rack suits, seemed to be in decent physical condition and had pistols and stun guns. One word from Jormo and the guns came out. They had the polished look of pretend-professionals.

Had I not worked at Havenstone and seen its malicious underbelly, I would have been impressed. As it was, how could things go more wrong? They split up; one going after Orlando and Estere and the other closing cautiously with me. He looked cool, but his gun was held too high and he blithely came within hand-to-hand combat range.

Oh please, EVERYONE I cared about had left the room. If this guy and I wrestled for his piece, I could have cared less who got shot while it was his damn job to see that no one besides me got a scratch. I was sure his corporate employer cautioned him about such mistakes a lot...because he still had the safety engaged on his firearm. I'm an idiot...I'm an idiot...I'm an idiot.

"Your bitch is going to get shot now, Cocksucker," Brennan sneered. The security guy was reaching for my arm to pull me away from the table. He hadn't bother to ask me, instead being engrossed in his ear piece chatter. I snatched his gun from his grasp, disengaged the safety and pointed it at the guy.

"Put the stun gun on the table then back up nice and slow," I eye-balled the shocked man.

I was pretty sure that was the moment Brennan wet himself. No one said a thing. The guard did as I requested, then backed away. At three meters, I dropped out the magazine then put it on the table. Next, I removed the chambered round from the pistol and put them both on the table.

"Mr. Sulkanen, you don't know me so I'm cutting you some slack right now," I sighed.

"Dad, his father was murdered Monday night in a gunfight," Hana interrupted. "Pointing a gun at him probably wasn't the best course of action."

"So it appears," Jormo glared at me.

"G - get your gun back, you idiot," Brennan squawked at the guard.

I slid the stun gun to Hana then reloaded the pistol before handing it back to the guy, grip first.

"Keep your distance to two meters, or more, unless you have a partner ... and whoever taught you to keep the safety engaged is a moron. Guns aren't toys, so don't treat it like one," I told him. The guy took his gun back.

"You served?" he muttered to me. Me? In the military...I guess I now qualified.

"Nah, I work with a bunch of girls at the Customer Complaint desk at a major telemarketing firm. After a few weeks on the job, you learn to get squirrely when you see people coming into the office with trench coats in this early summer heat," I said. So much implied with no real information.

"Oh God," Hana snorted in amusement. "You really do that job thing all the time," she giggled, "don't you?"

"At Havenstone, my sadistic task-mistresses often require me to think on my feet, so I've learned to share the love at work and abroad," I nodded.

"What?" Jormo scowled.

"Cáel Nyilas is on the Board of Directors at Havenstone, as well as an intern for their Executive Services division," Hana stated. "He is learning about the corporation from the bottom up."

"Bullshit," Brennan snapped.

"Can you prove this, Mr. Nyilas?" Jormo challenged me.

"Normally your recognition would mean nadda to me, but Hana has gone out of her way to be nice to my friends," I agreed. "Who do you want me to call that you will believe?"

"I don't actually know anyone at Havenstone Commercial," he admitted.

"Wait!" I had a brainstorm. "Call Javiera Castello. She'll verify who I am and she's pretty much as 'an unimpeachable source' as I'm likely to get."

"Who is she?" Hana pulled out her phone.

"She's an United States Attorney for the District Court of the Northern District of Illinois," I babbled.

"Are you sure we can reach her on the weekend?" Hana was already networking. She wasn't a lawyer - she was a power player, if a small one.

"Tell her you think Cáel Nyilas is involved with some crime, and she'll be in touch ASAP," I assured her.

The call went in to her team of corporate lawyers and the countdown began. Brennan decided it was time to migrate away from the danger, so he and his buddies decided to take the yacht out after changing - by way of using its crew to escape. Anima elected to remain behind. She kept expecting a reaction from me. She wasn't getting one.

No anger, sullenness, contempt, or pity. I'd save my anger for those a bit farther from the grave. I wasn't sullen because her victory wasn't a victory. It was a loss for both of us. I had requested that she exert some self-control in my presence and she hadn't - end of discussion. I certainly didn't pity her. Anima was evil, not merely a creature ruled by compulsions.

She had thought I was bluffing. I wasn't. Anima thought she was in an emotional endurance match and if she waited long enough, my façade would crack and she'd get her first taste of my pain. Twenty-four minutes. That was the time it took Javiera to call back.

"Yes, Ms. Castello," Hana answered, "I have Mr. Nyilas here with me right now."

"What's he done wrong...that's difficult to explain," Hana began. I heard the laughter coming from the other end. "You sound like this happens to him a good deal." Talking. "That doesn't sound promising." Talking. "I'm not a criminal legal talent, but I'll give it a shot. Theft, theft of a firearm, assault, obtuse death threats and possible possession of a stolen object." Talking.

Hana gave me her phone. At the same moment, Estere dropped down in front of one of those beautiful French doors with their southern exposure and sauntered back into the dining room. Her hastily applied clothing additions suggested she was better armed. The guard gave a startled jolt as Estere drew even with him.

"Don't worry about him," I told Estere while covering the phone with my hand. "I chambered in the first round backwards." Estere smirked. The guy tested his piece and, sure enough, a normally chambered round popped out; I had lied. The poor bastard gave me a nasty stare. Estere's look to me was pricelessly appreciative.

Ninja were all about stealth, the Black Hand was all about making use of whatever weapon was handy...and the Hashashin were all about misdirection and deception. Estere was a Mistress of M&D giving a young trainee a congratulatory nod. Would the guard search Estere for weapons? Not anymore. Now he was worried his pistol would fall apart and Hana had never returned his stun gun.

His confidence had been shattered before combat had actually begun.

"Hello, USA Castello," I spoke into the phone.

"How are you going to get out of this mess this time?" she began.

"Can't I simply be innocent?" I pleaded.

"No," Javiera asserted with authority. "Now tell me what is going on."

"For the sake of the interested parties swarming about - some with guns - I'll use pseudonyms. 'A' invited 'B' to his domicile for the weekend. 'B' invited me and 'C' to come along. 'A' had a friend, 'D' plus a cast of assorted losers.

'A' and 'D' also had 'E' here for the weekend. She trusted them so ended up drugged and sexually assaulted - a great deal. Video was made," Estere tapped my left upper arm and exhibited her phone suggesting to me she'd gained access to the video the group had taken of Casper. "'F' showed up and decided to help myself, 'B' and 'C' get 'E', only to be outmuscled by 'G'.

'H' shows up, takes charge, and decides that myself, 'B', 'C' and 'I' (new friend) should leave while he sits on 'E' and waits for the bought-and-paid for doctor to show up. Goodbye any evidence, trot out the legion of lawyers, crucify the victim and justice dies," I related.

"What do you want me to do?" Javiera sighed. She believed me.

She also believed that I was going to seek revenge for the young lady and while she had to publically chastise me and privately urge me to stop, she knew what motivated me.

"The caller wanted some confirmation that I'm a Big Wheel at Havenstone along with being an intern," I stated. "Personally I could care less, but 'E's fate is in jeopardy."

I handed the phone to the guard after motioning toward Jormo. A few seconds later, he had his own little chat with Javiera. I had a feeling it was rather heated. Was I who Hana claimed I was? Yes. Was I a criminal? No comment on ongoing investigations.

"Is he dangerous?"

I imagine she said 'What do you consider dangerous?' because Jormo wasn't pleased. After a pause, the conversation from Javiera's side picked back up.

"What do you mean, 'have I crossed him?' You are a part of the Federal law enforcement process. You are paid to handle those things. Now answer me," Jormo simmered.

I imagine it boiled down to 'yes, I was a dangerous human being' and 'no, I wasn't a homicidal maniac' which didn't help him much. That concluded Javiera's participation in events.

"Do you think you can inconvenience me, young man?" he shot his steely gaze my way.

"Mr. Sulkanen, there are precisely two things keeping me away from you; basic civility," I enlightened him, "and Hana."

"I have discovered in a few short months that there is nothing as precious a resource as nice people. The world is overwhelmed with assholes with a highly overestimated sense of their worth in the greater scheme of things. I do not hate you, or like you. You do not register on my interpersonal radar," I said.

"You think you've learned some harsh life lessons, Mr. Nyilas? You don't know anything," Jormo met me anger for anger. Hana, in her short time, had gained a far better picture of me.

"Cáel, he is my father," Hana called to me. "You know about paternal respect, don't you?" That was a good shot on her part; painful, but not crippling.

"You are right, Hana. I am in your father's house and I owe him both that respect and the respect for how he treasures your person," I responded. The tension began to bleed away. Jormo wasn't an ass-hole, just driven by an iron determination to get his way. It had made him stinking rich and, I was beginning to think, outwardly ruthless.

Why weren't Brooke, Libra, Estere and I being flung out of his home after our collision? Hana. That man had the same honest and trusted affection for the step-daughter that wasn't even his offspring as my father held for me. You don't mistake it once you've witnessed it. He knew this wasn't her vagina talking. He held Hana in higher regard.

Hana saw something in me that made her stand up to both him and Brennan. I doubted that happened often. Hana made the call and her step-father honored it - end of the debate for now. That meant Hana, Estere and I went to find Casper and the others. Libra was helping the focus of such anguish shower off. It had been accepted there would be no police rape inquiry.

Another advance, if you could call it that, had occurred in my relationship with Brooke and Libra. Their quick glances said it all- 'Get the bastards' and they expected it to get done. Like Odette and the now-deceased Latin Kings, those two didn't truly understand what that meant. In this case, most likely messy, painful deaths for those who would learn too late that a little law is a good thing - it keeps the really nasty things, like the truly lawless, at bay.

There was no mention of events passing beyond my control. Those two had no idea where their wealth came from, what homes they owned outright, versus still under mortgage, or rented, and what their actual tax rate was - as opposed to the mythical 'tax bracket' the masses dreamed the rich were in.

Casper came right at me, even slipping out of the towel Misty, and the newly arrived maid, tried to get around her. Why? I had gained an unanticipated affliction. Girls in the worst possible mindsets wanted to trust me. Oneida, Cameron, Wiesława and now Casper homed in on me being a gentle, honest and trustworthy soul - but damn it! I wasn't!

I wrapped my arms tightly around Casper, making her feel snug, safe and warm. I lied to her. I told her things were going to be okay. We'd work things out and she'd get better in no time. No one was going to get to her while her 'real' friends were around and we promised to stick around as long as it took. This was supposed to be my vacation. I need to stop making plans for the future and avoid the disappointment from having my hopes trampled by cruel reality.

(Saturday Night)

The Hamptons gathering had transformed from a post-college exploration to a mature gathering. We had an adult-level task laid out before us - creating an emotional buffer zone for Casper. I gave Estere an 'out'. There would be no more 'fun time' this weekend. She elected to stay anyway.

When we moved out to a cliff-side patio for dinner, Brennan and company showed up, sans Orlando and his lady. Casper tensed up, Hana and I rallied and put up a warding wall, so the cast of idiots settled for taunting Casper as she shivered behind us. Because, you know, all of this was one big joke...

I had enough peripheral awareness to not get blind-sided by Casper. Hana didn't and went tumbling into Anima. Casper launched herself at Brennan. He had some under-developed martial talent while Casper was clearly driven by frantic energy alone. Brennan received a few scratches then flipped Casper over his shoulder and down hard on the patio's deck.

A punch to her face was coming Casper's way when I pushed Brennan several steps back. The one scumbag who attempted to get behind me took an ice cube to the eye, courtesy of Estere. His yelp allowed me to yank Casper up and circle my arms around her.

"The whore scratched me," Brennan exhibited his scarred forearm. "I guess she goes to jail now."

I didn't do anything and I think three of the ladies were thinking I should. Brennan snorted. Now for a lesson in community.

"Okay," I shrugged. "Casper can go do jail." By the depth of her whimper, that wasn't what Casper wanted at all. I looked to Libra and Brooke. Giving someone the unwarranted label of 'snob' was wrong and those two ladies were going to exhibit that.

Libra hurled her drink from the patio table at Brennan. She missed but that was okay. Brooke missed as well.

"I guess we are going to jail with Casper," Brooke declared as they moved up. Casper wiggled around in my grasp so she could take in the scene. "We'll stick with you, Casper."

"Bitches!" Brennan snapped. "What the fuck..."

"These people can't help you, Casper," Anima stepped up. "You are in trouble now and they don't know trouble."

"You are horrible," Brooke seethed in response.

"Why all the hostility?" Anima gave a disarming smile. Libra had definitely tapped into her 'Inner Cáel'. That was only fair, since her 'Outer Cáel' had been tapping her pretty vigorously.

"Because we are better than you and you consistently fail to acknowledge that, you soulless tramp," Libra volleyed.

"Cáel, I apologize so much for bringing you here this weekend," Brooke touched me.

"I'm not," I squeezed Casper. Crap, I could use a break. It was so wrong that I suddenly wished for Monday and to be back to the work week. It was even screwier that I thought that would give me any sort of relief - it wouldn't.

"Touching, but foolish," Anima sighed with amusement. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket. She made a call then showed the device to Casper. "I'm sure your boyfriend will be very impressed with last night's antics. Of course, he may expect a repeat performance." Casper trembled. I rubbed her back as she sobbed into my shoulder and bicep.

"I'm not very impressed with your virtue," Anima sounded disappointed in me.

"You and your ilk deserve only two words - 'Good bye'," Estere sounded serene. "As a general instruction, anyone on this deck that I do not like and that hasn't left by the exits in the next three minutes will be flying over the railing."

"This is my fucking house!" Brennan shouted.

"Actually, it is Dad's house, Brennan," Hana smiled.

"He's not your father, shit-for-brains," he snapped.

"Brennan, for every time you have forced your way into my life through bratty behavior; I consider this moment long overdue," Hana snorted.

"I'm not leaving," he took a defiant stance.

"Good," Hana laughed. "In..."

"Two minutes 25 seconds," Estere supplied the data.

"I'm taking every other lady and leaving, locking the doors behind me," Hana kept grinning.

"Before I leave, I will ask Cáel to physically obstruct the stairs leading down the bluff," she added. "Then it will be you and Ms. Abed. She is going to kick all of your asses, I'm not letting you inside and trying to get past Cáel constitutes assault and he may defend himself. Ms. Abed has diplomatic immunity courtesy of Azerbaijan - an oil producing country Dad's contacts at the State Department won't want to upset, even for you."

I pushed a reluctant Casper far enough away so she could see my face.

"You need to go with Brooke, Libra and Hana now," I soothed her worries. "This shouldn't take more than three, or four minutes..."

"No scarification?" Estere sounded upset. She polished that off by covering her veiled mouth and giving that enchanting little Arabic women's warbling cry for action.

"I don't know about that," I looked past Casper. "Surprise them." Estere's veil didn't disguise the whiteness of her teeth, or the panther-like savagery of her smile.

"Fifty-one seconds," Hana noted. "Cáel?"

"Go with the others. Estere and I will be back inside within ten minutes, tops," I pushed her hair away from her eyes.

She nodded before folding back into Libra and Brooke. I went to the top of the stairs and took my stance. Estere pulled out a thick, short, curved blade from Allah-knows where and the stampede began. Only Anima retreated with any pretense at style. She shot me a wistful look that insisted she was waiting for the next round. It wasn't happening.

Some people obsess on victory being a mass of bleeding wounds and broken bones. It can be that, but it is often much, much more. In this case, it was Casper seeing her tormentors in flight...revealed to be nothing more than selfish, rudderless cowards. The eyeball math would never be the so lopsided. They had seen her degraded, humiliated and violated.

That was the lowest ebb. Now those people were less a pack of monsters and more a puddle of vile sleaze that you wouldn't want to step in. That crushing hold they possessed was weakened. Dispelling the pall over this weekend would be a long time coming, yet here it had stopped, bottoming out and her desire to overcome this nightmare began.

For Casper, it was recoiling from the pain and betrayal. For the monsters, the Abyss wouldn't be long in calling.

Sometime later our group was in a small home theater when a security guard came for me. Hana had left a few minutes earlier so Casper and Estere were a bit edgy. I gave a comforting kiss on the head to Casper, a kiss on the lips to my ladies and a quick 'I have no idea' look to Estere.

I was taken to the old man's study. Jormo was behind an old 19th century desk, Hana was standing by the unlit fireplace and Brennan was looking incredibly petulant in an overstuffed chair near his father.

"What's he doing here?" Brennan snorted. He didn't warrant a reply.

"Mr. Nyilas, an hour ago one of my personal jets went down off the Virginia/North Carolina coast. From what I've been told, they apparently suffered a catastrophic loss of cabin pressure at 25,000 feet, lost control of the aircraft and slammed into the Atlantic at over 500 miles per hour," Jormo looked at me. "Mr. Keyes, his fiancé, a business associate and the pilot were on board. The search for survivors has only now begun. Do you have anything to say?"

"You mean do I have anything incriminating to say while this conversation is being recorded?" I sighed. "Sure - I had no idea where Mr. Keyes and his lady-friend were. I wasn't even aware they'd left this place."

"It was an accident, right?" Brennan half-rose out of his chair.

"I'm working on that," Jormo grumbled. "Mr. Nyilas, is my son's life in danger?"

"From what?" I met his unsettling intensity. I could have said 'bad parenting', except that would be cruelly truthful. "Danger? No, Mr. Sulkanen, your son is a dead man. He and all his friends are dead. They simply haven't had the inclination to lie down yet."

"That is not a death threat," I interrupted the oncoming outburst. "It is my assessment of the forces at work here - namely your son and his crowd's cruelty and the universe working as it should."

"I won't let you harm my son," Jormo came around his desk. He was a powerful specimen, just not one who should be taking on a physically fit man thirty years younger.

"Don't make this personal," I refused to back down.

"It is my son's life - it is personal and I want you to know if anything happens to Brennan, I will make damn sure you pay for what you, and whomever you work with, have done," he threatened.

"That is incorrect," I began loosening my own anger. "What is happening to your son and his friends has nothing to do with his name, or your continuous failure to hold him accountable for anything. It has to do with a violation of a young lady after my direct plea that she not come to harm. He and his gang ruptured the rules of hospitality and heaped derision on the basic concepts of humanity with willful, evil intent. They even made a video of that vile act.

This morning, they confronted me with their defiance. I took some pictures and sent them to a colleague..." I was saying.

"Who? Give me their name," Jormo got in my face.

"I can't recall. It is probably filed away with every other crime you've bought and paid for that Brennan has committed," I was only a few centimeters away.

"Give me the..."

"Shut up and listen," I moved in, suddenly cluing the old guy into me being several inches taller and broader in the chest. "You don't get a name. I didn't break the law - you and your son did. I am hoping that pain and blood is answered with pain and blood - a balancing of the scales of justice.

You don't want that and now you don't want to face the fact that his latest stunt has gotten way beyond what you want to pay," I insisted.

"You won't get away with it," Jormo glowered. "This is my family. This is personal to me."

"Personal...personal, Mr. Sulkanen? No; personal is not you and me," I clarified.

"Personal is your other two sons, a baby daughter, three step-children and a young wife," I laid it out. "You come after me, the parties concerned will go after them - and you. Not on my orders, though. They will act upon a different social agenda which you know nothing of. In the end, you will save no one and fill a few more graves."

"I won't back down," Jormo flared.

"Fine. I don't care," I turned to leave.

"Wait, Cáel, how bad will this personal vendetta get?" Hana pleaded.

"Not sure. I would imagine two generations around - grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews, sons, daughters, sons and daughter-in-laws, children and grandchildren," I mused.

"Father," Hana pleaded. It was Deoxyribonucleic acid test time. "Cael, I saw something last night my father needs to see. Please take off your shirt."

"What will that prove, Hana?" Jormo rumbled.

"Look at the man's body. See his scars. Father, Cáel isn't kidding. You and I both know he's not bluffing. This is some Old World madness that...that Brennan has stepped into and...I want to know if you are going to bring down this family because of him," Hana made her stand as my shirt came off.

"All those scars and bruises," the Sulkanen patriarch muttered. "How?"

"I'm a rather disreputable and dishonest man, Mr. Sulkanen. I would rather treat life like a sexually-explicit romantic comedy instead of confront the darkness that is all too fucking common. Turning my back is easy...but that is not how my father raised me. He never told me to be a crusader of any stripe. He did tell me to live with my decisions. I have recently come to realize that includes me being unwilling to bear the burden of refusing to stop wickedness I could have prevented. No fear, Mr. Sulkanen and no regrets. Flesh heals - memories are eternal."

"Father," Hana stood silhouetted by the flames flickering in the fireplace. "What is this man's price? What threat can you make to deter him that he most likely has already faced and defied? I believe him. I believe he has sent events in motion and are now beyond his control. Mr. Keys and the others are dead because of what Brennan and Anima conspired to do and the blood-letting will go on longer than we can afford."

"Run, you fucking slut-coward!" Brennan screamed at her. He was now standing, and very scared. "You've never been a part of this family."

"Father, if you give your life for Brennan, I will understand. I would be heartbroken, but understand," Hana picked up her appeal. "If you sacrifice everyone else for him - that I do not understand.

I can't follow you in that course of action - not and be the woman you have raised me to be. You taught me to protect my family and this is not what you are doing. You are throwing the rest of us away for something that is ENTIRELY Brennan's fault," she said.

"Shut up, Bitch!" Brennan howled.

"Father, if you proceed down this road, then we must part ways. You will have my resignation on your desk Monday morning and I will begin the legal proceedings to return your surname - one of my most treasured gifts, Father," she concluded.

"Cow," Brennan hissed.

For some, blood is thicker than water. In this case it was a matter of the child you have versus the child you wished you had. Even the way Hana stood by the fireplace was a close mimicry of the Old Man. At some point early in her development, Jormo had given Hana guidance and direction. She had repaid that with daughterly devotion.

The guy's first marriage had been a disaster - strong hints of an affair then a fatal car wreck. During the second marriage he had formed an emotional anchor with Hana. As the marriage unraveled, they had become mutually supportive. There was nothing sexual. It was something stronger - shared trust. When the second marriage failed, Hana had stayed behind. She got along well with wife number three because that was what made Jormo happy, and that mattered to Hana.

Brennan was the opposite. He took everything for granted and repaid every gift with mockery and hostility. He was 'owed' this lifestyle. He was anointed at birth to be a person of privilege and the lesser folk best beware. Except now, someone was handing his dad the bill for Brennan's misdeeds and Dad was balking.

"Brennan, be off the grounds by noon tomorrow," Jormo painfully dropped each syllable. "Your trust fund is intact. Stay away for a few months. I will let you know when I have made suitable arrangements."

"Dad...what the fuck?" Brennan was confused.

"Your mother, half-sister and I could have been on that flight as well, Brennan," Jormo's eyes drilled into his son. "Stay away from the rest of the family. You can use any family property, but be gone within 24 hours of any of our arrivals."

"Fuck you, Dad! This was a freak accident," Brennan tried to rally.

"Then this will be a lesson for you in building and keeping an itinerary," his father retorted.

"Bullshit. This is Hana's doing, Dad. She wants your money and wants to shut the rest of us out," Brennan kept attacking. Even I could tell that was the wrong move at this juncture.

"Brennan, Hana gets it all. I re-wrote my will after your youngest sister, Karvala, was born," Jormo glared at his boy.

"Hana gets all the assets. The rest get some level of addition to their Trust Funds, but Hana gets the company. This was decided a year ago. Hana and I didn't tell you because we both hoped you would turn your life around. That hasn't happened. Now, you've revealed yourself as a selfish spoiled child, willing to risk your own family in your wrong-doing.

Do you know what the only thing worse than being called a beast in your own home is? It is acting like a beast. A Man treats each guest like family. A beast ignores the cries of those guests for justice. Damn it, Brennan. I saw what you and your carrion-feeders did to that girl," he was starting to redden with rage.

"Dad, who the..."

"Shut up!" Jormo was now trembling and livid. "You violated her trust in the safety of my house, you violated your responsibilities as a host and lastly, you violated my word as host that she'd BE safe here. And you laughed about it, Brennan - you and your friends laughed about it.

If I was more the man I wish I was, I'd throw you off the damn cliff. If I was more of a father, I would have the police here by now to arrest you. I'm not. I'm giving you a chance to run away. You can make your own arrangements, or Hana can make them for you - your choice," he suggested.

"What if I don't run, Pops?" Brennan sneered at his father.

"Then everything comes out Monday morning. I'll be in trouble, you'll be in serious trouble and you will also be a colossal disappointment, guilty as sin, and broke - as I will freeze all your assets," Jormo stated matter-of-factly.

"You'll go down for this," Brennan threatened.

"This time, Brennan, it is a matter of family. I have sons, daughters and a wife to protect. Hana will take care of the corporation while I'm otherwise occupied," Dad said.

"She'll steal everything," Brennan pointed at Hana.

"There is nothing to steal, Son," the old man shook his head.

"It is hers. Unlike all my other offspring, she's earned it. She's learned the company starting at the ground floor, so she knows what she's doing. No one else has shown the slightest interest. Best of all, I know I can rely on Hana to look after the rest of you once I'm gone. She's never been jealous of any of you, though the reverse isn't true.

We are done here," Jormo sighed. "Brennan, you can go. Mr. Nyilas, you too." I left at a crisp pace. I wasn't running away. I was hurrying back to Casper, to comfort her, and to the rest to give them the news. An hour later, we were all on the road.