From a roof , Agent Turner watches Edulcore Cicciotto leaving the alley where he has stayed for the last two hours. The right hand of the American agent goes to a little recorder in his pocket, and bring it to the mout.

“Agent Turner report, Mandelovian time a quarter past noon. The subject is still under the effect of heroin, and our previous observation shows that his power is at low peack in this condidtion. It’s the best time to capture him. Second attempt begins”.

“I think not” a warm voice from behind Turner says.

The American turns, to see a well known leather clad female smiling to him.

“Lorena, I don’t want to fight. It’s matter of security for the world, I have to take Cicciotto.”

“How is Marisa?”

“You bastard!” whisper Turner, and jump at the Lioness.

There is nobody on the roof to see the fight, only the omnipresents seagulls soaring over the city, in the deep blue sky.

But if someone would be here, it would be amazed at the hand to hand battle skills of the two.

“Patrick sends his regards” says Turner, lending a punch over the face of the SouthAmerican agent.

“You shouldn’t have nominated him, Ritchie!” she responds, jumping back on foot and kiking Turner between his legs.

“Steel suspenders, don’t you know? Daniel is really a beautiful kid, Lorena. You should see him, one of these days.”

“You fucking piece of sh…” the words disappears from the mouth of the woman when Agent Turner, after having jumped in air, upside down, kiks her in the back.

“Next time, Lorena”

Turner runs to the rim of the roof, take the binoculars and scan the street to see if Cicciotto is still there.

He is, still walking very slow, one hand over the wall of one of the palace lining the street.

Truner take what it seems a gun, and fire to the roof of the palace on the other side of the street.

A hook, tied to an iron rope, flies to the chimney and hangs to it.

Turner jump down, hanging to the rope.

It’s a matter of one second.

With an hand, he takes Cicciotto around his wrist, and soon they are over the next roof.

A puff of gas from a bottle, and Edulcore Cicciotto, the Eurostar, is put in sleep.

Turner takes his recorder.

“Mission accomplished”.

[ 09-25-2001: Message edited by: The Eurostar ]