Lily smiled, trying to be reassuring, "I'm sorry for being so blunt," she added, "But I wasn't sure how else to bring it up. You see, I was there in my natural form... although, I'm not exactly sure what was going on..."

Lily scratched at her cheek, before adding, "Um, if you're not busy, did you want to come upstairs? I can just put a 'be back in a while' sign on the door in the meantime."

Mid-morning
The V-Corner
“Your natural—?” Joan began. Comprehension dawned quickly, however.

“So you were—ah, you‘re the—uh, so that was you, then?” she said, uncertain. Pieces seemed to fall into place as she spoke.

“I see.” She said, turning back to face Lily. “And you had no idea what was going on? Oh dear, I see.”

“Well, for starters, my name is Joan—I would impress upon you the necessity for secrecy, but I imagine you’re well enough initiated into that as it is. Now, you said you live on the second floor? Yes, I think it would be best if we had a seat—I imagine we will have a bit to talk about.”

Lily hung an ‘Away’ sign on the door—it had been a slow day, and it was nearing about the time of day for low traffic, so she didn’t expect it would make much of a difference anyway.

She and Joan set up at opposite sides of the little table in the kitchen.

“So,” Joan began, “Why don’t we start at the beginning? How familiar are you with the supernatural world? I don’t want to make any assumptions based on, well, on what you are.”

After School
Public Library
Very well. As you may already have guessed, you and I are alike. What they call folk like us differs depending on who you ask and how official you want to make it sound: Psychics, Seers, Psionics—the popular term I’m hearing from the younger crowd these days is ‘Esper’. They all mean the same thing—we can do things with our minds that most people cannot, that most people regard as impossible.

What I want you to know is that you are not alone. I am a member of a group of people like you and me—we call ourselves the Cabal of the Psyche. Our purpose is to seek out and contact those with the Sight, help them to understand their abilities, and to protect them from the persecution of those who would see our kind harmed. Had we found you when you were younger, we could have taught you how to control your powers, and given you access to a community of people who understood what you were going through. Regrettably, it is getting increasingly difficult to locate new Seers in this age.

Regardless, we could still help you to discover the extents of your power, help you with problems you may encounter, and provide you with a network of people who know what it’s like to live with these powers—I would recommend you not underestimate the value of this last resource.

Know also that we are in no way forcing you to join the Cabal. You are free to choose membership for yourself, or simply to remain in contact with our people—or even, if you preferred, you could never hear from us again. We only ask that, whatever you do, you work to maintain the secrecy that protects all of us.

You don’t have to decide right now, if you need time to consider.
Guy moved onto the database of parks while she spoke, maintaining the illusion that he was researching something on the computer.

(Like the lady says, whether you choose for Guy to accept of decline the offer is up to you. Also, if you wanted to use italics to convey non-verbal speech, River, you simply precede the italicized line with an ‘i’ in pointed brackets, and end the line with an ‘/i’. Like this [i]Monkeys,[/i], except with <>’s. More tricks like this, should you feel the urge to use them, can be found under this thread.)

Your invitation is very generous, but am I to believe that you want nothing from me but to maintain the secrecy that I already keep? I find it hard to believe that the Cabal would simply wish to make itself known to me just now.
How did you find me and why do you take an interest in me now, claiming that my gift is something that I do not fully understand? You professed to ponder Fate, so what stirring of destiny is this?

“Eh—can I help you, sir?” Samuel Avalon gave a mild mannered smile as he nodded. In this life, he was a man of good humor, calmness, and understanding. He made it his duty to keep this persona no matter what the situations was... a Clark Kent/Peter Parker to the Superman/Spiderman scenario. However, he had the feeling that this man was a problem for a while, and with the weird messenger just now, Mr. Avalon decided it would be est to face this potential adversary now.

"I am sorry to intrude my good sir, but I was highly recommended to speak to you..."

"Is that so? What about?
Mr. Avalon's face suddenly went morbidly grim as he made his next statement: to shock and intimidate this man, as well as let out a little of Aaron Smith's personality. The latter fact was extremely important, for if this turned into a confrontation, he needed to be "in the zone". However, Samuel Avalon did not wish to escalate this situation any more then was required - the children were still around, and it could end his career as an elementary teacher.

"On why you have been spying on me..." An intense glare is shot out at the man, cold as ice on a December night. "and who you are working for!"

Lily carried Fillæra upstairs with her, setting the butterfly mask on the table, and running her hand along the painted wing design.

"Well," Lily began, "I suppose not a whole lot, to be honest. I just know how I am, and I know most people would be afraid of that, which is why mother has told me to keep it secret since I was little. I know about spirits, like Fillæra here." She motions at the mask, "But not much about qi besides what Fillæra's told me."

She giggled, "I actually spend most of my time just looking after the shop with mother. I get to watch humans, and since I don't bother them, I can co-exist pretty easily. Also helps that not many people look too hard at a convenience store cashier." Lily tilted her head, smiling foxily.

Mid-Morning
The V-Corner
“The mask is a spirit?” Joan asked, surprised.

Hello, there. Fillæra spoke into both their minds.

“Ah, I see. Most pleased to meet you, mistress Fillæra. So you have been Lily’s teacher thus far?”

Insofar as much as she needed to know in order to keep herself safe. Now, it seems, she has come to a point in her life where she will need more.
“In that case, I shall fill in where I can help.”

“For starters—magic is real. I don’t think this should come as too startling a revelation to you; from what you have told me, you can use it in your own unique way, calling it qi.

“The others you saw with me and myself can all use magic. The three of us belong to a loose group of mixed magical practitioners and psychics called the Wicce*. The three of us of my coven use our gifts to do what we can to combat the supernatural predators that live out there—though we can only do so much.

“The men we were fighting last night were a group of satanic fanatics and their drug ring that we had been watching for some time. They were planning to get together to use the energy of the full moon combined with their own rituals to unleash their evil on the world.

“We were going to team up with another coven we know in order to take them down before they could abuse their power to do any serious harm, but something happened to our allies and they weren’t able to make it. We still managed to defeat the cultists, but their pet fiend spirit, I fear, may still be loose somewhere out there.”

Joan paused to sip the tea Lily made for her. “But there’s no need to toss my own problems onto you. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? I’m afraid I don’t know much about—well, what should I call you?”

She pronounces it “Wick”
Afternoon
Martin Taylor Elementary School
Edited
“I am sorry to intrude, my good sir, but I was highly recommended to speak with you…” Mr. Avalon replied.

“Is that so?” Aaron could see the effort he was making to remain calm and collected, though occasionally his eyes darted as if he were expecting a trap to be sprung on him at any moment. "What about?"

“On why you have been spying on me..." An intense glare is shot out at the man, cold as ice on a December night. "and who you are working for!”

The wannabe janitor recoiled as if struck. His face remained knit together in an impassive façade only through the force of will, the faint shudder in his extremities giving away the levels of adrenaline coursing through his system.

“S***.” He spat the word at the floor. He exhaled a long breath out his nose. “S***.” He said, quieter. Finally, he looked up at Aaron again.

“You have enemies in Italy with a lot of money and a chip on their shoulder. Probably killed someone’s favourite third-cousin-of-the-Pope or something. I didn’t ask. You know how it is.” He peeled off his moustache. He was a tall man, slightly taller than Aaron. The hard lines of his face formed a steel mask.

“So what happens now?”

After School
Public Library
Perhaps you mistake me, Mr. Perrin—allow me to explain more fully. I am currently visiting Adelaide for reasons I am not at liberty to disclose, but I can tell you what led me to you.

I caught a glimmer of insight into the future that showed me your school that suggested to me that there may be something important to occur if I were to follow the glimpse. Through further probing I was eventually able to determine you as my target. From there is was not hard to guess that I had found another young esper.

As for my comments on studying your talents, I simply meant that, experimenting on their own, many young espers do not explore the reaches and depths of their ability. For example, many lone espers do not realize that they can work collectively with others to enhance the strength of their powers. I know of a pair of twins, one of which can play the piano with his mind and the other which can hurl cinderblocks. The combination of their minds allows them to together move heavy objects with extreme precision.

I do not mean to suggest that you do not understand your gift, but rather that there may be things that you did not previously realize you could do with it.

As a person with demonstrably strong control over your powers, if you wished to join the Cabal, you would become an Assistant—a standard member—and in exchange for access to the Cabal’s resources you would aide the Cabal when necessary to deal with threats to our safety.

As for the Cabal’s interest in you, I offer insight by asking you to consider their position. The Cabal’s main goals have long been to find, guide, and, above all, to protect those with the gift for the Sight. Once this was not true—as the tale goes, the original Cabal back in ancient Greece, in its awkward developing stages, thought to become the rulers of their ungifted companions, by right of their superior talents. This ended badly.

This lesson taught the Seers of the Cabal to respect the freedom of their less gifted brethren and instead turn to the study of the Sight. It also taught them that discovery of their existence could result in a backlash of fear against them and all those like them. Thus, the need for secrecy is born.

As a result, we try to discover new Seers as quickly as we can so that we may help them to understand and not fear their unusual talents and that we might help them to protect their gift—and by extension, the existence of all those like them—from the awareness of the general public.

Should they decline our offer, as they are free to, we merely wish to strongly impress upon them the dire need for secrecy.

Forgive me—I begin to ramble.
(While writing Lily's scene I totally got the image of them drinking tea in my head and it wouldn't go away peacefully, so I made it canon.)

If! Guy had misunderstood her earlier reference to destiny. His facial expression dropping into a look of obvious disappointment, though this would have looked to every other person like he was having trouble finding what he was searching for on the computer.

It was tough on Guy, being a rarity with his devotion to fate, as he often had to keep his thoughts to himself to avoid standing out. He had thought that maybe this person might have been able to share in his understanding, but it was plain now that she could not.

Still she had been led to him by sight, and even if she did not understand what led her, fate had brought them together. This offer was not to be taken lightly as exactly what would be required of or gained by him was yet to be fully disclosed, and yet another offer like this was not likely to ever be made.

If he believed all that she had said/thought then her motives were benevolent and sincere. This might have been easier to accept if she had told him why she was in Adelaide, even though he hadn't asked her.

Her mention of this point troubled him as it is rarely a good person that must keep secrets from another presumably good person. She had said something about protecting although if she had wished to enlist him into the Cabal then why not just tell him and ask him for aid now?

Guy's experience told him that though other options tended to look better fate would have it's way. Guy, as always, differed to it in this instance.

I will accept your offer, his face still bearing a look of disappointment.

So where do we go from here?

Lily blinked a moment, "Hmm... I guess you could mean that wisp that I thought I saw before it vanished into the wall..." She rubbed her hand at her chin, before registering the second part of Joan's last sentence, a question.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I completely forgot. I'm Lily." She replied, giving a carefree smile.

Lily thought for a moment, "Hmm... you know, you really only have my word that it's me you saw last night... that's kind of rude of me isn't it?" She mused.

She held out her hand, palm up, towards Joan, closing her eyes a moment, and letting her hand shift. Silvery grey fur slowly grew along her wrist and hand, the form changing, until it reached the state where it was a paw. Partial transformation, but then, Lily didn't want to frighten Joan. She opened her eyes and smiled, setting her paw on the table for Joan to touch if she wanted.

Lily chuckled, "It's kind of surprising that my hair is naturally grey, when my humanoid form has red hair, isn't it?"

Mid-Morning
The V-Corner
Joan watched the girl seamlessly summon up a fair amount of energy instantly, and then put it to work. Before her eyes, Lily’s body became more angular, and her muscles tougher, as though she had suddenly become an athlete.

The witch looked on in silent approval—either this girl was a fairly powerful channeller, to draw up that much energy at once and then execute it immediately, or else being whatever she was allowed her to draw upon her spirit in a different way (it wouldn’t be the first time Joan had seen channelling like this).

Lily held her arm out before her, and with a brief look of concentration, grey-black fur sprouted all along the girl’s forearm.

Lily chuckled. “It’s kind of surprising that my hair is naturally grey, when my human form has red hair, isn’t it?”

“When magic is involved? Not particularly,” Joan shared Lily’s grin, “and it is interesting.”

“I’m going to have to be serious with you for a moment, though.” Joan shifted forward in her chair, looking over the top of her glasses at the odd girl before her. “You are not normal—you know this already, but what you may not know is that this puts you in danger.

“There are creatures living in the world—monsters—that feed off of the spiritual energy of other beings. People who have stronger souls than the average, people like you and I and several other profiles tend to make tempting targets for these predators. In short, because of our strength of spirit, we attract the attention of these monsters.

“Many have a hard time accepting this, but it is not something that we can escape from, it’s a part of who we are—I imagine you can appreciate this more than most. The best we can do is learn to deal with this fact of our lives, and maybe, if we’re good enough, protect others like us.”

Joan let the words hang for a moment, then set down her cup and stood up. “Unless you have anything else you want to talk about, I should get going pretty soon—my son really wants one of those ‘pokey-man’ games for his birthday and I have to go look for one yet.”

(Provided there is nothing)

She drew a card from her wallet and handed it to Lily. “If there’s something you need help with, or if you get a tip on supernatural goings-on, drop me a line.”

“Pleasure meeting you, Lily, mistress Fillæra,” Joan nodded to both, “Take care.”

---

Lily had barely sat down, reinstating herself at the counter with Filly manning the register, when her mother returned.

"I'll just put the groceries away and take over for the lunch rush, hey?" Ms. Vritova called from the back door, already beginning up the stairs. There was no such 'rush' around lunchtime, but sometimes folk popped in to get a sandwich or something.

Her mother returned shortly to take over the shop. "You know what? I feel like pizza for lunch today," she announced, reappearing. "Be a dear and fetch us some, would you?" She handed Lily the money. "Take your time, though, or it'll be cold before I've finished up front here."

---

She was not gone more than a few minutes toward the pizza place, however, when a lightly tickling shiver that had nothing to do with the weather ran down her back. She caught the scent automatically: qi was building up somewhere, radiating from the northeast. Not nearly to the same degree as she felt standing outside the abandoned hospital last night, but more than a little.

She remembered what had happened the last time she had decided to investigate. That wasn't fun. But she was different today, she had the power of knowledge, she knew that it meant something supernatural was going on, something like her.

Lily wondered if Joan was still close enough that she might have felt it. What would a normal person do in her situation? An abnormal person?

Lily Full Ess (-5 SotB, +5 regen)


After School
Public Library
If the woman noted Guy’s blatant disappointment, she said nothing while he contemplated his response.

At last, he answered her.

I am glad to hear it. From here I will leave you an address at this computer—go there at any time soon that is convenient for you. I will give the personnel there your information so you should be able to get in when you go yourself. They will introduce your to the Cabal and be the division you will belong to. You will report to them when needed for missions and you can come to them if you run into any problems.

Do you understand everything I have told you?
She pulled a card out of her pocket and casually penned down something out of Guy’s line of sight while she asked the question.

The woman stood up and pushed her chair in.

If that is all, the telepathic link will end shortly and we will no longer be in contact. Wait one minute before you pick up the card. . . . I am sorry if I have disappointed you somehow. The Cabal woman left on that note.

Seconds after she was out of sight and moments before he was due to pick up the card, however, Guy’s eyes lost focus, seeing into the reality as it was yet to come.

A man wearing sunglasses, dressed in a black coat and of indeterminate age approached the Cabal woman’s terminal. The card was gone from the table and Guy was not at his own computer in the image. The man looked up and Guy saw himself making his way out the library’s main doors.

As the woman got up to leave a sudden thought struck, Guy's father was a gifted seer! Had he belonged to the Cabal? Was he hiding from them or something else entirely? He thought on these things for a short while and after realizing how much time had gone by made to pick up the card. His vision began to blur in the familiar way as his gift took over his sight.

-A man wearing sunglasses, dressed in a black coat and of indeterminate age approached the Cabal woman’s terminal. The card was gone from the table and Guy was not at his own computer in the image. The man looked up and Guy saw himself making his way out the library’s main doors. -

A normal person might have been made nervous by this sudden knowledge that they might be being followed, but a normal person would have likely gone insane seeing visions of the future that were none too pleasant. Making as though he had had an itch on his nose while he was in vision so that no one around him would give him a second glance. He scratched his sniffer lightly as he placed his hand on the card next to him. Reaching down with the hand that had scratched his nose, he grabbed his back-pack, swinging it rather wildly onto his back. He slipped the card into his pocket and logged out heading casually around the side of the library to the door. He kept his eyes from wandering by staring at his feet. Even as he left the library he wasn't tempted to look around at his potential follower. Why would he, as he had already seen it?

Guy needed to find some way to see if he really was being followed ...

“So what happens now?”
Aaron Smith was now out, Mr. Avalon subsiding to allow the survivor out. He needed to take this guy out... now! Aaron had taken extensive martial arts training while he was in the military, and he had kept practicing it even when he disbanded from his team. He had not used it much, since he was someone who would normally use a gun to solve his problems, like in the case of the beast the previous night.

However, there was also the concepts of honour: attacking without first informing his prey of the outcome was unsportsmanlike and boring. A riddle would be needed: if he answered right, Aaron will leave him for now. If he failed, then Aaron would soon be using his wood busting fist techniques against this janitor and locking him in his own closet until the end of the day...

"What has less syllables in pronouncing it as a whole then its acronym form? Answer my riddle, and we will settle this on your terms. Answer incorrectly and I choose our battle ground..."

Mr. Avalon was still needed: it was a break from all the carnage and rancor that Mr. Smith went through with every job. They would settle it, but doing so here in the washroom would probably ruin his way of living.

Besides, there is the well being of the... Aaron Smith shook the thought from his head No time for sentimentality, this problem takes precedence...
But the contract was already spoken, he could not back out on the deal now. Only if the man lashes out, will Mr. Smith be able to attack and kill the man here...

Tuesday June 1, 1999 (20d: Midsummer)
Afternoon
Elementary School
What has less syllables in pronouncing it than as an acronym?
The would-be hitman couldn’t see any trace of the school-teacher he had been watching these last weeks. Less syllables than its acronym… Why the riddle? It was clear that Mr. Smith couldn’t kill him now because of their public location, plus it didn’t seem as if he had any weapons—granted, neither did he—but what could he gain from the riddle?

The letters of the acronym would have to have more syllables than the words they represented, and it would probably have to be one spoken as initials, not a word itself. What words existed like that?
Mr. Smith watched him from behind an inscrutable mask of derision. It occurred to the hitman that this must be what it was like to be on the other side of the contract. As much as he would have hated to admit it and refused to show it, the experience was terrifying.

He tried to approach the situation rationally. What was the worst that could happen from failing the riddle? It looked like Smith still wanted him dead pretty badly, but the riddle was only to determine how their conflict would be resolved, not the resolution itself. Failure here only meant that he would have to not fail later.

An idea! Sure, this man seemed young. It was possible he was young enough to enjoy this sort of thing. The hitman envisioned telling his client to go screw themselves, that they couldn’t pay enough for a target this dangerous.
He hastily counted the syllables in his mind. It seemed right, and it didn’t look like he had exactly all the time in the world to make his answer.

“Would that be the World Wrestling Federation? WWF?” He watched Smith’s face for the first sign of a reaction, whether he had been right or wrong.

Yes, if you were wondering, the hitman chose poorly. That’s seven syllables in both; neither is longer. Yes, I do know at least two answers which would have succeeded.

After School
Outside Public Library
Guy stepped out into the street at a casual pace. He needed to find someway to see if he was being followed by the man from his vision—and some way to escape him, if he was coming.

The young psychic glanced casually into the mirrored façade of the library. He saw the man following him at a sensible distance but with no real art for disguising his presence.

Now all he had to do was shake him. Easier said than done, but Guy trusted Fate to guide her agent—either into or away from an encounter as necessary. He turned at the corner of the block, weaving through people getting ready to cross the street.

He had to force himself not to look over his shoulder to see where the man was. Even in predestination there was a certain flicker of curiosity that raised its head occasionally. He followed this street to its corner also. The flashing “don’t walk” signal had just started when he skipped across the road, trapping his pursuer on the other side.

Guy pressed the button and joined the crowd crossing in the other direction, looking for the man out of the corner of his eye. The walk signal came on and he crossed with the crowd.

---

Jessie and Rebecca stepped off the Adelaide Metro onto the station platform.

“All I’m sayin’ is that it would be nice if we could get a nice two-week break to relax from anything crazy happening.” Jessie said.

Rebecca started to say nothing, but was interrupted by a sudden sensation—the feeling that something crazy was about to happen. “Did you feel that?”

“Holy—!” Jessie started. A black car passed them, driving too fast, headed for a busy crosswalk.

---

Guy saw the car coming at the same time as his supernatural senses kicked in. His mind’s eye flashed with a quick vision of the car bearing down on him without slowing. He saw most of the crowd moving out of harm’s way, but the girl in pink next to him would be too slow to react.

Taking the sign for what it was, Guy leapt at the girl, shoving her and himself out of the way of the car hardly a second too soon. The black car sped out into the intersection, narrowly missing a van before coming to a permanent stop, hood buried in a streetlight.

A man stumbled out of the car and quickly broke off running down the street, fleeing the scene.

At the crosswalk the crowd gathered around the two lucky kids, cooing their concern. The girl scrapped her knee when she hit the pavement and Guy banged his arm, but otherwise the two were largely unharmed.

Guy was praised for his courageous actions while the sound of sirens approached. Of more pressing concern to Guy was to look for his follower—he couldn’t spot him in the crowd. It seemed Guy’s sudden publicity had turned him away for now. Just as well.

He realized he wouldn’t be able to escape delivering a witness statement and prepared his everyday-hero account for the cops, waiting to be examined and finally released.

With a small sigh he looked up and was surprised (as far as the emotion ever registered on him) to spot two of the group from last night. They weren’t looking at him, so they didn’t notice his gaze.

---

“It’s gone.”

Rebecca nodded in confirmation. “I’m betting whatever we felt was behind that crash.”

“Nothin’ we can do about it now,” Jessie said with a sign, peering down the street where the man escaped. Rebecca made a small noise.

“Hey—look there.” She pointed out where Guy was sitting on the curb, surrounded by fellow witnesses.

Jessie’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked at Rebecca. “Coincidence?”

“I’m steadily loosing faith in these coincidences,” she said.

“Do you think we should go over and say ‘hi’?”

“No. He didn’t seem to want to talk much last night. If he wants to speak, let him come to us.”

The car was a bit of fortune that put guy on edge. There seemed to have been something supernatural behind the incident and, though not full of himself, it seemed as though he was the target. However his follower was missing and he had been brought back into contact with some of the players in the hospital event. Guy wasn't exactly sure of what to do next, but his gut feeling was to run with it. Taking advantage of the general confusion Guy moved quickly to the boy from the Hospital.

"Would you mind taking a quick look at the girl for me? I have no experience or knowledge with medicine, but I know that you do. Also," lowering his voice a little and getting a bit closer, "I think that I need to speak with Joan. It would really help if I could get her number from you."

Guy only half expected the boy to give him Joan's phone number, but he felt that he had been sufficiently loud enough to compel him to check on the girl that he had saved.

Guy looked off into the direction that the driver had run, hoping to catch a glimpse even though that was extraordinarily unlikely.

"I don't think that this was a very normal incident." Guy said none too quietly.

After School
Intersection Crash near Metro
‘Hippocrates’ made eye-contact with Guy as he approached.

“Would you mind taking a quick look at the girl for me? I have no experience or knowledge with medicine, but I know that you do.

“Also,” lowering his voice a little and getting a bit closer, “I think that I need to speak with Joan. It would really help if I could get her number from you.”

‘Hip’ almost cringed when Guy said Joan’s name. He opened his mouth and then shut it, looking around before speaking in equally hushed tones. “How do you know our real names?” He gave ‘Maud’ a nod and went to the girl.

Maud looked at Guy without saying anything.

[Guy’s Response]

Maud fished a business card out of her back pocket and gave it to Guy. It said Magical and Paranormal Consulting, with Joan’s contact info underneath.

“I don’t think that was a very normal incident,” Guy said.

“I take it you felt the same presence we did? We think it may have been the driver, but that’s just guessing at this point.” She bit her lip in thought before adding, “Fl—Joan thinks the fiend spirit may have found a new host and might be still running around. We hadn’t thought about it at the time, but I suppose you and the hitman may be in trouble if it comes across you.”

Hip returned. “Just a skinned knee and some rattled nerves. The ambulance will have some disinfectant and a bandage for her when it gets here in another minute. She’s lucky you were there.”

“Now, would you mind telling us your name so we can establish a bit of a basis of communication here? You seem to know a bit about us but you’re still a complete mystery. Don’t be a stranger now, eh?”

Btw, small note; Guy was headed in this direction because he takes the Adelaide Metro home from here.

“Would that be the World Wrestling Federation? WWF?” Aaron Smith's face was unmoving as the answer was given. He gave a slow blink and gave an intentional pause.

"You should probably work as a janitor for real, since you cannot count." The lash was delicious on the tongue to the hitman, and the psychological warfare also begun. Folding his arms, he gave his instructions quickly and coldly. He decided that he would have this confrontation at the hospital of last night. There may still be police officials around, but that would only make it more interesting. After giving the address, Smith continued. "I will be residing there after classes for the night. Come at your leisure and your own peril. If you do not show up tonight before the strike of 200 hours, I will hunt you down and gut you like a fish." The threat was another amusing addition to the game.