Podcasts about Daniel Burnham

Being known by the company you keep. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Life exists in both seconds and years. Don't ignore one for the other.” I would like to thank the phone operator and Chief of the Burnham, Illinois Police Department for answering my questions, despite their bizarre nature. (Monday Night) I should have known to not have too good a time. My karma was wacky enough as it was. It was about to get worse in a way I should have foreseen. Ain't hindsight grand? Inside of five seconds I knew how much sharing Libra and Brooke did; a lot. On the plus side, it gave me some wiggle room with Libra where sex with Brooke was concerned. On the super-plus side, Brooke was looking forward to ratcheting up our sex play. I took her to Libra's experiences with all the extra bells and whistles. In this case it meant adding a blindfold and ball-gag to the hand restraints. Brooke handed me a high level of trust unexpected at this early moment in our sexcapade. With a quick empathic insight, I pulled her ball-gag down as her orgasm erupted. She rejoiced in the sound of her rapture echoing around my bedroom. I deceived her into her next climax by whispering a promise to release her then hammering her instead. The whole specter of powerlessness tore her up inside. Best of all, even as she spasmed beneath me, I released her cuffs then pulled up her mask. Her fingernails dug into my trapezius muscles. For over a minute, she clung to me with a deep hunger to feel my heat and sweat against her body. "My turn," she rasped. I pressed my shoulders and head up so I could look into her eyes. She was waiting for this opportunity since she'd talked with Libra. Without question, she'd never been tied down before, or tied a man down and had her way with him. She'd manipulated men most of her life; that was old hat. This was primal, physical and forbidden. She was taking complete control of my person. God, I thought she'd orgasmed when she finished cuffing me to the headboard. Taunting, teasing and hot body contact followed as she put the ball-gag in. Sizzling lips sealed my fate as the blindfold was slipped in place. Having invested so much time using all my senses soaking up the hungry beast that Brooke possessed right beneath her urbane surface, losing my eyesight wasn't a major drawback. For Brooke, this had all the benefits of anonymous sex in a blacked-out room with the bonus of her having the lights on for her use alone. My bet was she had studied stuff on-line. From being sure she wasn't going to have sex with me when she first met, she had graduated to running naked across my living room for what turned out to be lemon slices. The 'fumph' of the Nerf gun made me assume Timothy shot her in the ass as she raced into my room. By the yip from Brooke, I knew Timothy's aim remained frighteningly accurate. Lemon juice and cuts don't mix, or, Brooke enjoyed watching my body jolt as said juice interacted with said 'workplace' mistakes. Was I angry? Nah. Every hiss of pain was followed by lavished kisses, licks and hair lashings. I loved her long black hair draped over my body, flicked around whisk-like and tickling my nose. Brooke was learning my keystone technique; figure out what your partner wants and give them a quick sample. Don't use any one thing too much; make it a treat and they'll appreciate the taste they get even more. When Brooke finally sated us both, it was my turn again. We talked a while. She invited me to a friend's place in the Hamptons which suggested to me the destination was more than some made-up place on TV. I promised to think about it. Brooke took that to mean she needed to work harder to convince me. I honestly had little desire to be trotted around as Brooke's boy toy. Hoping that wouldn't be the case relied a lot on faith. I wasn't sure what I would have in common with any of that crowd, which guided me back to being a stuck up snob for treating a people as a social class and not as human beings. I took out my social anxiety on Brooke. Poor girl; three holes, ten positions and I'm not sure how many times I took her from frenzied peak to frenzied peak. All I knew was when she'd passed all points of previous primeval ecstasy, I finally released her. Brooke curled into a semi-fetal ball and began burrowing into me. "Happy?" I asked as I stroked her sweat-drenched hair. She nodded happily against my chest. "Are you glad you came over?" I continued. Brooke bit me because she knew I was teasing her. "Ow," I grumbled. "I think we have a misunderstanding who is whose sex toy here." "Do I need to bite you again?" Brooke mumbled into my chest. "Point taken," I conceded. Brooke snuggled in even tighter. We wrestled out of bed, stumbled into the shower and took some time off with Timothy. He looked at us and smirked. "Cáel is going to be my boyfriend," Brooke tossed out there. Huh? "What in God's green earth makes you want to do that?" Timothy chuckled. "He's been there when I needed him. Cáel is a real man and it has taken me having a really tough spill to realize that it doesn't matter which alumni your Daddy belongs to, but what you put on the line for your friends that really matters," Brooke enlightened us both. "Seriously Dude," Timothy looked at me with pity. "Cut down on the awesome dicking until somehow polygamy becomes legal," he added, but then, "Brooke, you know he's seeing about a dozen different ladies, right?" "Cáel is looking for a serious relationship," Brooke insisted. Timothy chortled because he knew the likelihood of me settling down was right up there with us sharing a White Christmas in the Bahamas. "Let's go back to bed, Babe," I redirected things to safer waters. "It is your turn to be on top." Brooke, wearing one of my fresh t-shirts and nothing else, hopped off the sofa and let me lead her back to the bedroom for another round of 'not thinking about any other part of my screwed up life except the beautiful woman with me right now' sex. Twenty minutes later, Brooke had encased me in her wanton elixirs, was gyrating her hips as she stroked me inside her snatch while keeping me bound, blind and muffled. My phone rang. "Should I get that?" Brooke teased me. She moved enough to seize my cellular device. "The number is unlisted," she mused. "Who could it be?" I gave a muffled response. She removed the ball-gag enough for me to speak. "Work," I repeated. "It might be work. I'm on-call 24/7." "Damn," Brooke undoubtedly pouted (still blindfolded). She answered the call then placed the phone to my ear. "Cáel, a Security Detail detachment is on their way to your quarters as we speak. You will recognized the code they will use," Katrina's icy calm voice informed me. "Katrina, what is wrong?" I inquired. Normally, I wouldn't get an answer. Katrina's tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "There has been an incident at your Father's home in Chicago. We do not have clear intelligence at this time. I may have more when you get in," she related. "Understood," I replied. My passionate storm abated and I felt empty inside. Dad. "Cáel?" Brooke sounded worried. "We need to get dressed," I murmured. I had to let Timothy know something was truly wrong. I needed to get Brooke home safely. I; I needed to know more than I did right then. Brooke uncuffed me quickly. I barely had my boxers on when there was a light series of raps on the door. I sprang up, opened my bedroom door, surprising Odette. She must have come back to work a few minutes earlier and was unwinding with some low-volume TV and some sofa time. Timothy was asleep already. "Odette, go back to Timothy's room and warn him something bad may have happened. Go!" I warned. Odette scampered back. Brooke was at my back, trying to move into the main room. "Brooke, stay here. If something unusual happens, hide in the bedroom and don't come out until the police get here. Do you understand?" I met her confusion with an iron stare. She nodded. There was another, more insistent, rapping at my apartment door. I crept up to the portal and gave a counter-knock. "Crab Fisher-woman," a female voice said from the other side. "My Father's Sister," I responded. It was an imperfect code, but effective given the circumstances. I double checked through the spy hole, unlocked the door and let three SD Amazons inside. How bad was it? I doubted these ladies would know more than I did. In Hittite, she said; "Ishara," the leader said, "we have orders to escort you to Havenstone immediately." They weren't blindly expecting me to follow instructions. They had a directive they were following to the best of their ability. In Hittite, she said; “ Will a team be watching my domicile?" I asked. The leader nodded. "We need to take a female I have been with tonight to her dwelling before going on to Havenstone." The SD team leader nodded again. There was no condescension, or argument. They were following orders as if it was my right to issue them. That was how bad things were. Time to get back to English. "Brooke, finish getting dressed. I'm taking you home," I called out. Quite frankly, along with my desire to see Brooke back home safely was my instinct to not split up my guardians. Better a longer trip than two smaller, more vulnerable groups. I was in the process of getting dressed in the living room when Timothy and Odette came out. "Bro?" Timothy asked. "My Father's home was attacked. I have no other details right now," I explained with a sinking feeling in my heart. Timothy read my soul, came up and engulfed me in his mighty arms. Odette added herself to the heart-felt love-pile. "Do you want me to take Odette and head back to Queens for a while?" Timothy asked. He sensed we had limited time. "They," and by 'they' he knew I meant Havenstone, "will have a team watching this place. There are not enough resources to go back and forth to work. I wish I could tell what would keep you safe, but I don't know anymore." "We'll stay put," Timothy declared. Odette nodded. "We'll be here for you when you get back. If any of these psycho-broads want to stop by from time to time, I won't say no." I shot a look to the security team leader and she gave a curt 'okay'. "You'll need an overnight bag!" Odette squeaked. Off she went. Brooke finished getting dressed and came to my side. To your average Lothario, what she did might seem odd. To me, it was the normal refrain; Brooke shoved her panties into my jean's pocket. That was a not so subtle 'Call Me' for when I got back. "Three minutes, Ish; Cáel," the leader updated me. My amateur guess was this was the team from across the street. They had back-up vehicles and personnel streaking down from Havenstone to provide extra security for my move. "Velma," she gave me her name. A quick description was in order. The three Amazons all had Bluetooth devices, shooting glasses and steel-gray long coats that had to be uncomfortable in this upper seventies evening heat. Underneath, they had on light ballistic body armor on their torsos, arms, and legs. Even their dull grey, all-terrain boots looked armored. They had a hip holstered sidearm, most likely a back-up pistol at the small of their backs and a deadly blade, or three. Their main deterrence was their H and K UMP 40 caliber; my second favorite Amazon killing device. Timothy snuck off to get my toiletries, returning around the same time Odette trundled out with an overnight (or three) bag. There was a final round of hugs then Velma indicated it was time to leave. The fourth member of the team was stationed at the top of the third floor stairs. That gave her a good view of my hallway as well as the passage going up and down. Two SD's to the front, Velma and the fourth watching our backs and Brooke caught between giddy and freaking terrified. Things got even more exciting when we hit the bottom of the stairs. Two more ladies were waiting. They put a trench coat on Brooke and she nearly collapsed. The freed up Amazon took my bag while the second put a trench coat on me. I grunted as well. This bitch had to weigh 25 kg. That was some serious ballistic and blast protection. The closest newcomer began attaching my pistol with hip holster on my side while Brooke was 'buttoned up'. I was slipped a few spare clips then was buttoned up as well. "I'm not sure I can walk in this thing," Brooke gave me a weak smile. "Don't worry," I smiled, "I'll carry you." I slipped my arm around Brooke's waist and, on Velma's signal, we rushed out to the middle of three Mercedes Armored GL550s. The doors had barely shut before we were racing away from my favorite home. I walked Brooke up to her apartment, we hugged, kissed and she insisted I go to the Hamptons with her this weekend. I left with that promise unanswered. I didn't ask the Security Detail to do anything else outrageous and they didn't give me any crap about Brooke. Their vigilance didn't end at Havenstone either. No; they formed a tight knot of outward hostility until we marched into Katrina's office. Even then, they spread out over the Executive Services offices as an extended perimeter. Katrina's office was another step up on the unsettling meter. It was Katrina, Saint Marie, Buffy, Helena, and a woman I didn't know yet seemed to belong. "Excuse me?" Saint Marie shot a hostile look my way; actually right behind me. "Don't mind me," Pamela snorted. She was in the process of sneaking into the room. "I'm here for moral support," she concluded then took a seat. "Cáel?" Katrina queried, as if I could somehow exile Pamela from the room. "What's going on?" I began the meeting instead. "Your Father is dead," Katrina reported. If someone ever asked me what it felt like to have an arm cut off, I could truthfully answer them 'Yes'. Dad. "From what we have been able to gather from the video and audio gear the four Amazon Security Detail team assigned to watch over him transmitted, the team was setting up a perimeter when three vehicles with ten men stopped on the juncture of Janus and Kerr streets and approached the house. The team leader made formal recognition and was attacked," Katrina told me. "Are they okay?" I mumbled. I didn't want to know how my Dad died. Had he been in pain? Which side had killed him? Would knowing make a damn bit of difference? "Three of the four members were killed," Saint Marie interjected. "The team commander was killed instantly. The second died defending that corner of your Father's domicile. The third member was killed attempting to rescue your Father. The surviving member stopped the enemy from escaping with your Father's body, but was too badly injured to extricate herself and is now in police custody." "What are we going to do about this?" I inquired. Pamela was a lying bitch. She'd lied to Brianna because the truth would have gotten me and Dad killed. Dad had still died, but Pamela had kept me alive. "There is nothing we can do," the stranger spoke up. "Troika of House Šauška." "You are joking, right?" I stared at her. "He was a male, not of;” Troika began to state. "You do know your Amazon law, correct?" I countered. She gave a curt tilt of the head. "Recount the means of succession to the Head of a House then please explain to the room how my Father, the descendant of Vranus, fits into all that." Cha-ching! "Oh, by the Seven Goddesses!" Saint Marie jumped up. "They murdered the Head of House Ishara!" Katrina was already back on top; ahead of the game. "But what does that make him?" Troika pointed at me. "It confirms him as the Head of House Ishara. We can sugar-coat it and say Cáel, being the only 'active' member of Havenstone 'represented' the Head of House Ishara. By our traditions though, Ferko Nyilas was the lawful head of a 'First' House. Certainly four days were not enough time to settle the manner in an acceptable way," Katrina said. "At the very least, House Ishara would have been given 28 days to resolve any matters of succession internally," Katrina pointed out. "There was no deception. Cáel worked for Havenstone, so was our active member. The existence of his Father was known. It is in his basic file. It was highly unlikely that ANY House wanted to bring another male into the mix so the matter of his ascension was left unquestioned." "This is Casus Belli," Troika stood up and declared in a firm voice. "I will inform Hayden. We must know the perpetrators of this act, Katrina. I will prepare to relate this breach of the Protocols to the other Signatories." "To make sure I have this straight, I can defend any member of my family, no matter who they are, without violating the Protocols?" I questioned. "Can I kill them?" "That is correct," Troika appeared confused. "Other Signatories cannot harm, or detain your family in any way." I gave a bitter, hollow laugh. Dad; Dad wouldn't have understood, but Mom would have, no doubt. "Troika; hell, everyone but Pamela and Katrina, I am Cáel Nyilas, grandson of The Cáel O'Shea and those people who murdered my Dad very well may have been my family," I felt like crying. That was good because I was crying. I had talked to Dad early Monday morning. I had been so nervous about not leaving any trace of Mom behind that I couldn't recall if I said 'I love you' to him. I'd never get the chance to make up for that oversight. As I began to take in the faces around me, I realized Ishara had gifted me with a respite. No one else knew who Cáel O'Shea was; yet. "Troika," I started out. I could tell she was still having difficulty with the 'Man as someone worthy of stating an opinion' moment. "When the Council decides that the Illuminati have breached the Protocols, do I have a deciding vote on what we do; since Dad was my family?" "No," Troika clarified, "and what makes you think it was the Illuminati?" Pamela laughed at her. "Because I killed Cáel's Grandfather when that man was head of the Illuminati; slit his throat and rendered him incapable of resuscitation. The rest of that twisted clan have only now discovered that there is a successor, genetically, to the Old Man and you are looking at him," Pamela related in an amused tone. "Perhaps; just perhaps; they were interested in what happened to Cáel's Mother and the man she mated with to produce Cáel; who also happened to be the Head of House Ishara and now leaves this man (me) as the last of his kind; coming and going," Pamela finished, "for both the Amazons and the O'Shea family/the Illuminati." Troika was having problems fitting all the puzzle pieces. Saint Marie cut to the heart of the matter because she listens to me. "If you go to war against the O'Shea's you are being forced to fight your own family," the Golden Mare stared at me in shock. "Let me get this straight," Troika stood up, waving for silence. "When the O'Shea's killed Ferko Nyilas, they murdered the Head of a First House. They also murdered a member of their own family by way of marriage." She seemed totally flummoxed. Everyone agreed about how screwed up everything was. Breach? No Breach? "Welcome to life working with Cáel Nyilas," Katrina declared. There was a pause. "I'll let the professionals figure out the finer points of diplomacy. I have to go," I said. "Were do you think you are going?" Buffy popped up. Until this moment, she'd had no role in affairs. My safety though; "I am going home to bury my Father, Buffy," I announced. This was not a discussion. "Shouldn't we take his body to the cliffs?" Troika suggested. "My Father will face the Afterlife with my Mother at his side. It was his wish and I'm not going to start dictating to my Ancestors now," I sighed. I was trying to make light of my pain. By the looks on their faces, I was failing. I had barely exited the office, Buffy, Helena and Pamela in tow. The security team was closing in and my phone rang. "Cáel Nyilas," I answered sadly. "Mr. Nyilas, this is Investigator Brewster of the Burnham Police Department. I need a few moments of your time," a man's voice requested. I hesitated. I looked at my watch. "Yes; Dad?" I finally spoke. "Mr. Nyilas, your father seems to have been murdered late this evening in a bungled attempted burglary," he lied. It was a good lie. If he really believed a bungled robbery consisted of two heavily armed groups shooting a small residential home to pieces he was; nah, he was lying. "I'm on the next flight to Chicago," was the response I chose. I had so many 'loser' replies to choose from. "That would be helpful, Mr. Nyilas," he told me. "Do you know when I can expect you?" "Ah; I have no idea when the next plane from New York to Chicago is, but if I can buy a ticket on it, I'm there," I countered. Admittedly, me having a plane ticket for home would have been damn suspicious. "One last thing, Mr. Nyilas, do you have any idea why someone would want to murder your father? Anything you could tell us could be of great assistance," he pressed. "Yes, I have a clue who murdered my Father and I'll point you to the dead bodies when I'm done," I snapped; quite literally and mentally snapped. Pause. "Mr. Nyilas, I understand you are upset, but do not do anything rash. Now, could your father have been murdered for anything you might have done, or are doing?" Det. Brewster kept is game face on. "We'll have this chat when I get to Chicago. Until then, take care," I said before hanging up. "Smooth," Pamela gently chastised me. "I actually liked him going all 'Mafia Don' on that cop," Buffy countered. "I'll arrange for Havenstone to get us transportation to Chicago," Helena added. "No," I countermanded her. "You two stay here and finish up business. Join me late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning." By the looks Buffy and Helena gave me they were surprised; and proud. I was keeping to my 'Runner' induction time table. My family would not be diminished by this tragedy. It would grow. Come Wednesday morning, we would add twenty new voices to Ishara's war cry. "I'll take the first commercial flight available," I continued. "We cannot protect you on a civilian aircraft, Ishara," Velma warned me. "They; the authorities are expecting me to show up at O'Hare, so I'm showing up at O'Hare, like a normal person," I reminded her. "I'll also need to know at what hospital they are keeping our sister." Our sister; the sole surviving Amazon who nearly gave her life for Dad. The SD picked up on that immediately. Another leap had been made. I wasn't a masculine monster, raging against a female warrior who had failed. By the tone of my voice, they knew I was in grief yet not overcome by it. She was the last member of the Host to see my Father alive and she might hold the closure I needed. "It will be done," Velma decided. "We will have your team meet you at O'Hare." "My team?" I asked. "Rachel; her team," Velma clarified. That was enough good for me. "Oh, and get Pamela a ticket as well. I'd hate to have her mug another passenger and take theirs," I sighed. Pamela patted me on the back; an 'atta boy'. (Monday Noon) (The hospital) That was not the first time I wondered about how fatal Pamela had been in her prime. In fact, I wasn't sure that post-60 wasn't her best time yet. The only mistake the police officer guarding the Amazon's hospital room made was to sit in a chair. Pamela had long ago mastered the peon-craft that Rosetta had started to teach me. The policeman looked up, stared right through her then looked the other way. His gaze never swept back in my direction. She jabbed him quickly underneath both arms, paralyzing them for a few seconds. That was all she needed. Hers hand clamped over his eyes and on his throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain before his hands could recover. He appeared to the outside world to have taken a nap. According to Pamela, we had roughly three minutes before he came around. Pamela kept walking down the hall as if nothing happened. I came ten steps behind, guarded by a gun-less Rachel as I entered the Intensive Care Unit. A few of the staff looked our way, but no one impeded our progress. According to the Duty Nurse, the Amazon had exited surgery barely an hour ago. Her eyes opened to slits as I approached her beside. "We stand before the Eye of the World," I whispered. That meant surveillance. "I cannot tell you what is in my heart. My name is Cáel Nyilas. Does that name mean anything to you?" Her hand flopped. I put two fingers into her feeble gasp. One squeeze; yes. "I am grateful for your prowess and I share in your sorrow for those who will no longer fight in this life. Please heal and grow strong for this is the start, not the finish," I completed. She squeezed my fingers once more. I stepped aside, letting Rachel take my place. They didn't exchange words but communicated volumes. We slipped out of the room while the guard was still groggy. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. That proved to be pre-sentient when a group of people with the propensity to flash IDs caught up to me at the ground floor. Had the backdrop of this fiasco not been the death of my Father, I might have enjoyed the twitching/counter-twitching going on between Rachel, who desperately wanted any one of her guns, and the cops who were picking up on that desire. "Mr. Nyilas, I am;” and the introductions came pouring in. I had Theodora Chumwell and Brock Miklos, Special Agents of the FBI, John Rios, Special Agent with the ATF, Investigator Horace Brewster from the Burnham PD and Homicide Detective Lisa Capella from the Chicago PD. "We would like to talk with you," Theodora took charge. "Can I ask a question first?" I raised my hand. That appeared to set them off their game plan. "Of course," Theodora allowed. "Okay; FBI, ATF, a homicide detective from Chicago and the only law enforcement official who has any business being here," I finished with Brewster. "I may not be a Rhodes Scholar, but this seems a bit extreme for the burglary/murder of a long-time employee of Illinois Power and Light. Does anyone care to fill me on what the hell is going on?" I looked over the group. "Oh, and thank you Investigator Brewster for your call. I know I didn't take the news well." "Was that the part where you said you would point to the dead bodies?" Theodora took charge. "Yes, I think that was the gaff I was referring to," I agreed. "Why are you here, Mr. Nyilas?" Lisa Capella jumped in. She had decided to not go along with the FBI playbook. "I came to see the woman found alive in my family home," I replied smoothly. "She is probably still in surgery," Lisa gave a twist of the lips; sex. "Oh, she got out an hour ago," I enlightened them. "Let's take this conversation to FBI Headquarters," Theodora 'suggested'; you know, in the way that really wasn't a suggestion. "Have you gone to see that woman?" Lisa wouldn't let up; good for her. It was upsetting Theodora and I'd already decided that Brewster was my go-to guy on this investigation. "Yes," I responded to Lisa. "Isn't she under police protection?" Lisa and Theodora blurted out together. "There was a policeman at her door," I shrugged. "We went in and I talked to her." "What did she say?" Theodora brushed Lisa aside. "Nothing. She had one of those tubes down her throat. Whatever I said; well, I was emotional," I evaded. "She was barely conscious." Lisa was urgently contacting her guy who was supposed to be watching the only person in custody they had. He claimed to have 'blacked out'. He couldn't remember anyone coming in to see the woman and swore he hadn't been unconscious for any length of time. He went in, checked up on the Amazon and she was fine; for someone who had been shot six times. "We should go to the FBI offices," Theodora repeated. "I'm going home," I sighed sadly. "I want to go home." "It is still an active crime scene," John told me. "There won't be any civilian access for some time." Translation: until they decided to give me the carrot instead of the stick. "Please, come with us," FBI Special Agent Brock added his weight. "No. I'm going with Burnham PD," I countered. "You can find me there." "That's not how it works," Theodora upped her authority meter. Lisa had fallen back, trying to take in the bigger picture. Brewster was clearly trying to recall if he had Any history with me, or my Dad, that would make me trust him over the others. "I may be a liberal arts major from northern New England, but I know how a larynx works," I regarded Theodora. "Unless I choose to make a sound, it does nothing. Nothing is about to be all we have left to do and say." "Don't you want to help solve your Father's murder?" Brock tried to sound both sympathetic and threatening at the same time. I was suddenly bombarded with the taste of Lime Sherbet and Jalapenos Ice Cream. "Really? Fine; I'm going to hang out with the only person in this room I know is working on my Father's murder, not on their career," I reposed. "We are all trying to;” Lisa got out. "You maybe," I gave Lisa that much. "My Father made around $70,000 a year after twenty-six years for Illinois P and L. He had almost paid off the colossal debt built up by my Mother's illness and my college expenses." "As far as I know, he took out one loan his entire life; from a bank; and he paid it off," I continued. "He was a lapsed Catholic, a member of the IBEW; Local 9, and he jogged. He barely used e-mail and had no close friends I am aware of. The only woman he loved was my Mother and he mourned her to the day he died." "What about your activity?" Theodora inquired. We weren't running off to her playground; yet. Handcuffing a grieving son would look bad and, by my attitude, wouldn't make me talkative in the least. "I have the unfortunate habit of sleeping with every woman I meet," I began. "So that's over 200 erotic encounters. I get annoyed with people throwing their weight around," I continued, "which is why you and I are getting off on the wrong foot, Special Agent Theodora Chumwell. I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments, getting paid an insane amount to fetch laundry and keep secrets. Good enough?" "No, it is not;” Theodora simmered. "How did you know about the existence of the woman upstairs and how did you know to come here?" Lisa interrupted. "I grew up in that house, know the neighbors and know this is the closest EMS center to home," I lied convincingly. "Who are you?" Brewster decided that I wasn't exiting the hospital gracefully so turned on Rachel. She didn't speak, choosing to be creepy and brandishing a wallet instead. I kept forgetting that most full-blooded Amazons had minimal socialization with outsiders. Having graduated elementary school, everyone else knew this was a bizarre reaction. "Rachel Louis," Brewster read off the license in the wallet. A normal person would have acknowledged that somehow; not Rachel. "You are Rachel Louis, aren't you?" "Yes, she is," I intervened. "Rachel is a co-worker at Havenstone and she is misanthropic misandrist." There was a pregnant pause. The confusion wasn't with 'misanthropic'. It was a grown-up word in usage with colorful police-types. It was 'misandrist' that had them stumped. "Rachel is an unsociable man-hater," I explained. "Standing at my side in this hospital is ten kinds of Hell for her." "What kind of piece do you normal carry?" Rios asked her. Unsocial didn't mean stupid. "I use a Glock-22 and Rachel carries a STI Perfect 10," I answered. "We have been experiencing quite a gopher problem around the office." I could have done better; I should have done better. I was just too tired inside to create an inventive lie. "Do have gun licenses for those weapons?" Mr. ATF kept prodding at our cover story. "It seems Ms. Louis; is it Ms. Ms. Louis?" Brewster continued. I flashed Rachel a look which she interpreted correctly. "Yes, my name is Ms. Rachel Louis," Rachel replied. To me, "I find this distraction to be annoying. We should go." "It would seem Ms. Louis has all kinds of;” Brewster got out before Rachel snatched the wallet from his grip with the speed of a Peregrine Falcon. Brewster had this stunned look familiar to crows, doves and starlings the world over as one of their kin passed into the next life in a flash. A combination of 'No you didn't!' with 'what the flock?' "Ah;” Brewster got out. "On that note, I think we will be going," I shrugged. To Rachel, "You do not get out enough." "Can I see your wallet again?" Brewster was still confused by Rachel's rudeness. He was a cop for the love of God. People not wanting to go to jail do not snatch things from a cop's hands. "I gave you my wallet. I am not to blame if you used its time in your possession unwisely," Rachel counterattacked. "Unless there is a legal technicality, we shall be leaving. If there is a legal issue, here," she produced a business card with a flourish, "is the contact information for our legal department." Theodora took the card gingerly then read it. "Havenstone again," she mused. "Are you sure this is the path you wish to take, Mr. Nyilas?" "Are you insane?" I trembled with emotion. "I want to be back in New York, working my queue and thinking about what my date and I will be doing tonight. I want my Dad to be alive. I don't want to be thinking that the last time we talked I forgot to tell him I loved him." "Path, you Idiot!" I screamed at Theodora. Screw it, I was crying again. "Not a damn thing any of you can do will bring my Dad back to me; so fuck off!" In a strange way, that was what they had been looking for. Not my wounded soul, but my rage and pain toward a World suddenly found to be cruel and pointless. Behind my crumbling façade was another worry. Outside in the parking lot were three Amazons with weapons ready to rush to my aid. It wasn't that the Host was rash, or reckless, by nature. I was one of the fifty-six most important people in their society. Three other SD members had died in the defense of House Ishara already and they were damn sure those women would not have died in vain. I wasn't leaving in federal custody willingly and if I walked out in restraints, I wasn't sure if they would decide offing some law enforcement agents and staging my kidnapping was the best course of action. Remember, I wanted to bury my Father. They wanted to keep me alive. If those two goals collided, they would apologize after the fact. "Mr. Nyilas, I really believe we should;” Theodora got out then I brushed past her. It was a delicate moment and the chemistry between Rachel and I wasn't lost on most of them. She was a bodyguard yet my servant too. It was professional tribalism; two words that don't normally get along. Rios picked up on the other undercurrent. He recoiled from Rachel, retreating to buy space when/if Rachel attacked. Unlike the rest, he sensed that aggression by law enforcement would be met with lethal force. The Amazon didn't care about the badge and the legions of fellow officers backing it up. She was fearless. Things weren't over yet. "Mr. Nyilas, where are you going next?" Detective Lisa came after us. "I; I don't know," I muttered. "Where is my Father's body? I know he wanted to be cremated and buried beside Mom; I guess." Brewster came hurrying along. "He is at the Medical Examiner's Office," Lisa informed me. "Come with me." "Why don't you give me the address?" I sighed. "Do you and your buddy know your way around Chicago, Hometown Boy?" Lisa kept it up. She was hitting on me and lining me up at the same time. "How about we cut to the chase?" I looked at her with tear-soaked eyes. "We'll take my cars; cars with an 's'," I offered. "I am a hometown boy. I've never had a reason to locate the Medical Examiner before. Since I have a boatload of angry women with guns who will not fit into your sedan and leaving them behind isn't an option, mine is the only means of travel that makes sense." Low and behold, the two cops looked at each other then followed Rachel and I to our little caravan. We were too close for the officers to have missed Rachel snapping off some quick, coded instructions to her team; most likely to hide the seriously illegal firearms. To say the Amazons were not pleased with my decisions spoke volumes to their concern for me and lack of police experience. Pamela, who had beaten us back to the cars, seemed privately entertained as always. Rachel was reluctantly sitting up front. Lisa, Brewster and I were in the second row and Pamela sat in back. Not only did the two not get a good look at Pamela, she was perfectly placed to do all kinds of mischief unseen. "So the woman upstairs works with you?" Lisa asked as we pulled out. "Where to?" Tiger Lily (I still wasn't used to that name) requested of our Police 'buddies'. Lisa popped off the address. It was 'I'll scratch your back, you'll scratch mine'. Tiger Lily entered the data into the onboard computer and off we went. "No. She does not work for me, or my boss, directly. She was at my Father's on my behalf though I was unaware of it," I related. "Are you going to tell us what the hell happened?" Brewster prodded. "That I don't know. I am not personally aware of anyone who would want to kill my Father, or me," I answered. "Anyone who would want to get at me would come at me, not Dad," I continued. "I don't live in a fortress. It is a hardly spacious apartment near the East River. I share the place with my roommate, Timothy Denver, and a; companion by the name of Odette Sievert." "Companion? Is she; a working girl?" Lisa went searching. "No, I use the term companion to indicate she's too nice a girl for me. She's sweet, conscientious and giving. My only wish for Odette is that she finds a guy who can appreciate her a hell of a lot more than I do," I explained. "Timothy is my gay, body-building tattoo artist best friend. I've gotten the feeling he's busted some heads in his time. Hardly anything noteworthy." "Mr. Nyilas, have you ever considered that you live a very messy life?" Brewster pondered. "One does not 'consider' what one knows to be true. One knows it to be true and moves on," I grumbled. "Yes, I know I live a screwed up life." "What about your friends here?" Lisa indicated the other three women in the vehicle. This elicited another groan from me. "Investigator Brewster; Horace and Detective Capella; Lisa, please call me Cáel. This is the point I accept that I am exhausted and not in any shape to make good decisions. I'll plead the Fifth," I confessed. "We already know you were in New York when your father was murdered, Mister; Cáel," Brewster stated. "Everyone we've talked to says you and your father were very close. Barring some expensive Life Insurance policy being taken out on him, we have no reason to suspect you had a direct hand in his death. Not being a suspect, that implies you have no Fifth Amendment, or Miranda Rights to hide behind; just so we are clear," Brewster schooled me. "I can make this game of footsy easy on all of you," Pamela whispered. The officers jolted in their seats. "Cáel cannot talk to you for the very reason the Fifth Amendment exists." "You are not like the rest of this menagerie," Lisa noted. "Nah, I kill people for a living. The rest of the group has some code of conduct that keeps you two alive," Pamela smiled. Those two didn't know what to make of Pamela's statement because it was so sincere yet incredible. "If Cáel tells you anything else he will be admitting to his involvement in a criminal conspiracy. Said conspiracy is why Ferko Nyilas is dead, but Cáel had nothing to do with it," Pamela enlightened them. Fact digestion time for the two law dogs. Brewster recovered faster. "But why was Ferko Nyilas murdered?" he asked. "The men didn't come to kill him," Pamela kept talking about the tea and crumpets. "They probably showed up to escort him to a place where some far more important scumbags could talk with him." "The all-girl squad was there and Ferko was caught in the crossfire," Lisa mumbled. "Why was there a firefight if his life was in danger and both sides wanted him alive?" "Stupidity," Pamela replied. "Give any group of people guns and then surprise them, stupid shit happens; I apologize Cáel." "I don't buy that," Brewster said. "They simply started shooting at each other; no." "Okay Horace, let me break it down for you. The ladies were told to go there and guard the guy without being told why. The men who showed up were most likely told to grab Ferko without knowing why either." "That makes no sense," Lisa protested. "Congratulations. That is why Cáel can't talk to you anymore," Pamela smirked. "This is the sort of crap he has inadvertently been caught up with; no fault of his own. If he did any of this on purpose, I'd kill him myself." "He is some poor schmuck who only wanted a 7 to 5 job, to make tons of money and bedding a different girl every night," Pamela teased me. "He's no criminal mastermind, or even a convincing criminal. If he has a failing it is that he tends to merely beat up people who deserve to have their spleens ripped out instead. I'm training him to be smarter than that." "Who are you?" Brewster gawked. Pamela gave a sinister smile. Lisa looked at me. "I've fought a woman with a twelve foot stick with a pointy bit of metal at the end with little thought to my personal safety. This lady (Pamela) scares me. She is with me because I have no means of stopping her and I put saving others a great deal of pain and suffering over my own unsettled nerves." "Do you really think you are that good?" Lisa half-turned around to face Pamela. "Do you want your gun back?" Pamela offered up a police issue Glock 22, grip first. My kind of gun. How sad. I was too depressed to seduce Officer Lisa. Brewster reached around to check is firearm. It was still there, much to his relief. "How did you do that?" Lisa wondered as she retrieved and inspected her weapon. Pamela tapped Brewster's shoulder with the man's magazine. Brewster was aghast. She'd stolen his gun, taken out the ammo and returned it without him noticing. "I found it on the floor. The truth is a bit more expensive than you are willing to pay at the moment, believe me," Pamela grinned. Why had Pamela showboated? She was buying me some mental respite. She was also exhibiting to the two police folks that there might be some truth to her outlandish tale of criminal conspiracies. Unlike the other Amazons, Pamela knew we had to maintain friendly relations with some part of law enforcement if I was going to bury my Father. (The Medical Examiner's Office) So much happens in life we rarely put the timespan of events in context. Talking with a person in line who turns out to make your day better/worse, become a friend and/or a date. In a matter of a few seconds your life has been altered. Two minutes later and you would have missed getting the concert tickets where you meet your future; whomever. Two minutes sooner and you get caught in the 'speed trap' instead of the other poor sap who you drive past as they sit on the side of the road keeping the patrol officer company. His/her insurance rate goes up while you have that extra money for later. Had we arrived two minutes earlier to the morgue; disaster aborted. Two minutes later would have equated to a frustrating mystery. Life was not so kind. It was the same group as before; Detective Lisa, Investigator Horace, Rachel and I. We had just added an Assistant Medical Examiner who was going over information garnered from the autopsy with the two cops. Pamela was 'checking things out', whatever that meant. The key to it all was Rachel being Rachel. Security Detail are more than simply elite fighting-women. They are also bodyguards, security specialist and normally stack a third specialty into the mix. When Rachel spotted five armed people in the hallway right outside the Medical Examiner's autopsy room, her alertness spiked. Only one was a uniformed police officer. Rachel was still gun-less. The two EMS personnel rolling an occupied body bag out on a gurney shouldn't have had on their heavy jackets on a late June afternoon. The other two men were chatting about something. That wasn't unusual. Where they were standing was; to Lisa's experienced eye. Rachel's heightened anxiety made Lisa double-check everything. Horace didn't know what was wrong yet when Lisa's hand came to rest on her piece, he put his hand on his Ruger SR45. "Excuse me," Lisa called out. No one stopped moving. "Excuse me," Lisa demanded in a louder voice. "I am Detective Lisa Capella, Chicago Police Department; Homicide Division. What is going on?" That was a reach. Bodies exit the morgue all the time. The two people with the body made sense. The two 'odd' fellows weren't breaking any law. In cop-talk, this was called 'gut instinct'. She produced her badge. There was a quick look by the two ambulance folk to the farther of the two 'talking' men. That group were rather competent, just not competent conmen. The two EMS guys turned and tried to give Lisa a causal look. "What can we do for you, officer?" the designated diplomat asked nonchalantly. "Whose body is that?" Lisa inquired. "I'm not sure; all we do is pick 'em up and take them to the appropriate funeral home," he shrugged. "Take ten seconds and show me the release order," Lisa gave a chilly command. The cop at the far end of the hall; the one with the door that lead to the loading/unloading area, was starting to clue in that something wasn't right. "Oh, by the Great Pumpkin, this is bad," Brewster muttered under his breath like a thousand other fathers who engaged in the daily struggle to not curse at work so they wouldn't curse around their children. "Of course, Detective Capella," the diplomat nodded. "Is there a problem?" He carefully pulled out his smart phone and handed it over. Lisa wasn't born yesterday. She handed the phone to me instead of looking at it herself. She was keeping her eyes on the guys with guns. They really did have an order to transfer my Father to a mortuary. Apparently I had requested this be done; without my knowledge. "Cáel Nyilas requested his father be taken to the Green Meadows mortuary in Cicero," I informed Lisa, Rachel and Horace. "I need to talk to Mr. Nyilas," Lisa informed them. "If I can't talk to him, I can't let the body leave this building. This is an ongoing investigation." The 'diplomat' was worried yet Lisa had given him an out. After I returned his phone, he called his off-site boss, who gave him a number which the diplomat gave to Lisa. Lisa called 'me' without my phone ringing. Even so, 'I' confirmed the authorization. The four gunmen relaxed as Lisa hung up. "One more question," Lisa pulled a 'Columbo', "was this a rush job, or are you all 'not ready for prime time players'?" The 'diplomat' made one last lunge at deception. "Detective Capella, our work order is legitimate," he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what you mean?" "Funeral homes have their own uniforms; they do not dress as EMS," Lisa deconstructed their illusions. "The bodies of murder victim are not released by the Medical Examiner until a cause of death is known and that information is released to the homicide detective assigned to the case; that would be me, if there was any doubt. Your two buddies down the hall could have read and critiqued the Magna Carta in the time it has taken for you to do your 'song and dance'," Lisa pointed out. "Oh, and the real Cáel Nyilas is standing next to me. Whoever talked with me on the phone is going to jail too. Now I suggest the four of you face the wall, put your hands over your head, palms against the wall and no one will get hurt." Darwin check time; they drew their guns. Of course they drew their guns. Why would they not draw their guns considering the farthest enemy was all of 4 meters away and the only immediately cover was my Dad's horizontal corpse? Gurneys tend to be lightweight and mostly empty space. The quickest on the draw was one of the two 'talkers'. He whipped out a 357 Magnum revolver and popped two shots into the police officer next to him; right in the center mass at less than 2 meters; ouch. Rachel was next, making a diving front roll between the two cops, toward the two fake EMS guys. I was right behind her, except my plan was to vault Dad's body and get at the second talker. I was not acting sanely. The second talker went in the next split second. He had brought a sawed-off automatic shotgun to the fight. His first salvo blew a chunk out of the wall next to Lisa's hip. She was less than an eye-blink behind as she put two slugs into the 'diplomat's' armored chest. He was kind enough to drop his Mac 11 from his twitching fingers and into Rachel's hands. Less than a single heartbeat later, the 'diplomat's EMS buddy revealed his own Mac 11. His mistake was not shooting his first target; Brewster. He was tracking Rachel and me instead, hoping to catch us together in a spray of lead. The general feeling was that, for all his law enforcement experience, Investigator Brewster had never actually shot at anyone before. His cop instincts kicked into overdrive. The perpetrators appeared to be wearing body armor and possessed a small arsenal of illegal weapons. His aim tweaked up, he pulled the trigger and a 45 ACP round effectively decapitated his target; our first confirmed casualty. My encounter with the Latin Kings had been a lesson in poor tactical flexibility. This time, by unspoken agreement, the two talkers were exercising their tactical acumen as they began withdrawing toward the exit. With the short range, width of the hall and lack of cover, being shot at by a shotgun, or a 357 didn't make much difference. I was trying to jump onto the gurney and launch myself at the two when my toe caught on the bottom of Dad's body, turning my heroic rush into a face-plant on Father. The men's cover fire worked on Lisa and Horace. Lisa, being more exposed, had to dive flat. Horace crouch-ran to Rachel. Rachel, with her submachine gun, was firing a steady stream of bullets from between the gurney's top surface and bottom shelf. Her shots shattered shotgun guy's shins and blasted off his knee caps. As that bastard screamed and toppled forward, Rachel emptied the magazine into both his thighs and his right hip. By the copious nature of the blood spray, an artery had been clipped, if not severed. Horace grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me off the gurney, down to his side. Lisa fired off a few shots at the vanishing leader, but he was already out the door. Rachel was rifling the closest EMS's headless body, looking for a fresh clip for the M 11. "Don't," Horace cautioned her. Lisa was running to the door. "Rachel, leave the gun and follow me," I commanded. "Wait," Horace called out. He was in an impossible situation. The bold Assistant ME began looking for any survivors, starting with the diplomat. Detective Capella was chasing after a possible cop-killer. I was already running after Lisa and Horace couldn't ride herd on Rachel, catch me and support Lisa all at once. Rachel muttered in Hittite 'dirty goat' at my fleeting form. I was sure its true meaning was far nastier. "Da-darn it," Horace grimaced as he started rushing after the three of us. I doubted it was any consolation to Horace that Lisa shot me an evil look when I caught up to her at the loading dock. There were no cars peeling away and had the bad guy fled out the huge doors 15 meters away, she would have seen him. Rachel arrived next. "Secure my Father's body," I instructed. She wasn't pleased but she wasn't talking back either. Horace showed up last of all. He was talking over his walky-talky, updating the Chicago PD on all the crazy, tragic crap that had gone down. Rachel slipped past Horace on her way back to Dad. The unspoken order was for her to re-arm and stay close, something she couldn't do under Horace's watchful gaze. Lisa and Horace were working out a plan to take their perpetrator down and it didn't include me. I was a civilian after all. My thinking was traipsing in a different direction. They were thinking criminal evasion. I was thinking stone cold, bad-ass killer. He may have already killed one police officer in cold blood. Why not make it three? There was also the mathematics of it all. Two guns are more likely to hit a target than one; I had learned that bit of tactical insight from my time with Aya. My disadvantage was my advantage. I didn't have a gun so I didn't have to position myself so I could shoot at anyone else. "Here I go," I alerted the two officers. My body was flying onto the loading deck before they could stop me. My cockamamie idea saved my life. Maybe he thought I stumbled and lost my piece. Maybe, at the last second, he saw through my deception. Maybe he was wondering what the last episode of 'Defiance' would be like. We'll never know. According to Lisa, he was tracking my fall with his 3 57 Magnum. He didn't shoot because he only had two bullets left, hadn't been able to reload yet and his Berretta 9 mm back-up pistol was on the other side of his body. Two bullets; two cops, he was probably sure he could beat me to death. Anyway, when he figured out the sacrificial lamb was the unarmed me, he returned his aim to the entryway, Lisa and Horace. The guy wasn't behind any sort of cover. He was pressed against the wall so he wouldn't be able to bring his other pistol into play inside that first split second. When Lisa shot him, it had to hurt, but didn't put him down. She shot again; missed. He shot, missed, shot again hitting Lisa and knocking her back and down. The leader pivoted off the wall, bringing his Berretta to bare on Investigator Brewster. A lifetime inside the blink of an eye; Horace's bullet hit the criminal; major brain splatter. Poor Horace. Horace was falling onto his side, taking a wild shot and hoping to keep the gunman from shooting Lisa and I when he accidentally ended the man's existence. The lead bad guy's final shot zipped passed Horace's left shoulder, over my legs and ricocheted off the loading dock wall and into space. Good old Lisa, she staggered to her feet then stumbled over to the gunman, seeking some signs of life. He was alive. Horace's 45 slug had 'only' removed the top half of his brain so the heart and lungs were still being told to beat and breath. As she was making her own call for Emergency Services, a piece of the man's skull that had been clinging to the wall plopped down. That broke Horace. He began vomiting. I rolled over to a sitting position. Rachel peeked in then utilized her blue tooth to stop the rest of the SD team from swarming me in a public building. Cops began showing up. As soon as Detective Capella had made her initial report and dealt with the traumatic injuries among the survivors, she turned on me. "Are you insane!" she screamed at yours truly. "Yes," I muttered. "I've been trying to tell you that for over an hour now." "This is not a joking matter," Lisa moved into my personal space. Was I really so far gone I didn't want sex? Nah; I could do her. "I could have killed people." "To be fair," I stood up, "you didn't kill anyone." The policeman was clinging to life, the 'diplomat' had been saved by his body armor and the second talker's prospects didn't look promising. "Horace buried two and I'm betting the guy Rachel shot isn't going to survive having both his femoral arteries cut. Two decades of Law  and  Order has taught me that some sort of Internal Affair's investigation is going to happen. I imagine there is a great deal of surveillance video so you should be vindicated quickly. We are still going to part ways for a while," I pointed out. "Take care." I made to leave. "Where do you think you are going?" Lisa grabbed my arm. "You were involved in a gunfight in a major municipal building. You can't walk away." "Yes I can," I grunted. "Horace, I've pointed you at the dead bodies," I told the Burnham investigator. "Good luck," I patted him on the shoulder. The look he came back with wasn't one of resigned defeat. Oh no, he was going to figure out what the fuck was going on, or else. The rest of the Chicago PD wasn't letting to let us leave either, so off Rachel and I were taken to the closest Precinct where we were non-communicative. (Back with the Feds) Theodora rescued me and Rachel into Federal custody where we were equally useless. It didn't take me long to figure out that, compared to Rachel, I was being downright verbose. If me being a jackass was a bonus for the Feds, they didn't exhibit an ounce of appreciation. I really loved Special Agent John Rios getting all 'super ass-kicker' on me. I was looking at 'serious' federal jail time. I was a 'domestic terrorist' and under the Patriot Act; then I fell out of my chair laughing. I was fatigued; my ability to separate desire from reality was fading plus I always fought back with my wits before my fists. "I've been awake for thirty-six hours," I chuckled as I regained my seat. "What is your excuse for being delusional?" I snorted. "I trip up cocky bastards like you all the time," John sat on the table, hovering above me. "You think you've got all the angles covered. You don't, Mr. Nyilas. People like you take things for granted, screw up and then you are all turning on each other like rats." "Ugh," I sighed. "Fine, Brainiac, what am I doing wrong? To clarify the question for you, what crime am I involved with that makes me a criminal, a terrorist, or a criminal terrorist?" "Guns, Cáel Nyilas," John sneered. "With all the people running around with all those firearms, it is pretty freaking obvious." "Wow; uh; John;” I started. <

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

What's up, good people! We are talking about Daniel Burnham, but outside of Chicago! We also visit the Evanston History Center. That was amazing! Tune in and learn with us.Support the showCheck out our new merch!! https://www.77flavorschi.com/shopAlso, catch Dario on the new season of Netflix's "High On the Hog" here!!If you have anything you'd like us to talk about on the podcast, food or history, please email us at ⁠media@77flavorschi.com⁠ WATCH US ON YOUTUBE ⁠HERE⁠! Visit our website ⁠https://www.77flavorschi.com⁠ Follow us on IG: 77 Flavors of Chicago ⁠@77flavorschi⁠ Dario ⁠@super_dario_bro⁠ Sara ⁠@TamarHindi.s

Eric Brown spends most of his time designing beautiful buildings and doing urban plans for his firm, Brown Design Studio. But, when you get him away from the desk, you find someone with a good sense of history, and an understanding of how to get things done. We partnered up together in Savannah to help create the Savannah Urbanism Series (a guest lecture series), host CNU 26, and create the Savannah 2033 Plan for greater downtown.With all of Eric's many accomplishments, he's a good person to talk with when we try to understand the bigger landscape of change and cities. So, we cover a lot of ground including the role of the business community in planning historically, what all is going on in Savnanah, and what he's seeing with new, greenfield development. He talks a bit about his project Selah, in Norman OK, as one example.Find more content on The Messy City on Kevin's Substack page.Music notes: all songs by low standards, ca. 2010. Videos here. If you'd like a CD for low standards, message me and you can have one for only $5.Intro: “Why Be Friends”Outro: “Fairweather Friend”Transcript:Kevin K (00:01.346)Welcome back to the messy city podcast. This is Kevin Klinkenberg Got my good buddy Eric Brown with me today. Eric is architect urban designer man about town Savanian What what else should I have on your resume here?Eric (00:22.818)Probably my best accomplishment, which is being a father.Kevin K (00:25.718)There you go, there you go. All right, well, I'm in that with you now as well, although I was a little later at the party than you, but it's a pretty awesome responsibility and I know Nick's a great kid, so congratulations on that.Eric (00:41.494)You haven't seen him in a while. He's six foot one now.Kevin K (00:45.142)Jesus, it's taller than me? That's not possible.Eric (00:47.982)He's a, he's still grown too. He's a big boy. He's going to be a big boy. And, uh, you also haven't seen ace the wonder dog.Kevin K (00:57.418)Yeah, yeah, I know. It's been a couple of years since I've been back. Although watch out rumor is we're gonna make a trip back this year, so I'll let you know. So I wanted to, there's a lot of things Eric and I talk about and there's any number of directions we can go with this hour today, but I do wanna hit a couple of things specific to like what stuff that you work on and some things that we did years ago.Um, Eric and I were kind of partners in crime in Savannah, um, really trying to, um, bring more discussion about new urbanism and, and better long-term planning, uh, to the city. And that may seem like a strange thing because Savannah is famous for its planning, uh, and its built environment. But like a lot of cities in the last several decades, um, it's really just been kind of the default.same stuff that you see everywhere, other than the historic district. So one of the things that Eric and I kind of put our heads together on was to get a group together and do an updated master plan of sorts for the greater downtown area of Savannah. We did this in 2018. We called it the Savannah 2033 plan. And...We called it 2033 because not just because it was like 15 years was a nice round number away, but really because 2033 is the 300th anniversary of the founding of Savannah. Savannah is actually older than the United States as a country. So it felt like a great benchmark for us to give. And I flew the coupe a few years ago, so I haven't been in touch in Savannah with every...as much of what's going on, but I wondered, Eric, if you could talk a little bit about that plan and effort and any legacies from that and what might be going on today, sort of good, bad, or indifferent, regards to thinking about planning in downtown Savannah.Eric (03:11.402)Um...That's a good question. And you know...I'm gonna kind of circle back to that answer in a second. But, you know, we also, you know, you and I also kind of had our little CNU group here, brought the Congress here in whatever year that was. But, you know, as part of that CNU group, we did a series of...Urban Speaker Series. You know, we had Mayor Riley, we had Deiru Tadani, we had Rick Hall. Um, we had, yeah, we had a, um, you know, the top talent and, you know, I'm sure I'm forgetting a few on there. And.Kevin K (04:01.738)Chuck Morrone, yeah, Joe Menard goes there, yeah.Eric (04:14.634)you know, when I'm really kind of proud of our efforts, you know, even after all these years.Eric (04:23.242)because people still talk about that. You know, they still talk about those. And, you know, if you were listening to you and I back in 2018 or 17 or whenever that was, we were doing those, 19. You know, our mission, what we told everybody our mission was is to raise the bar of discourse and education here on urban planning matters and.You know, I got to say buddy, congratulations, because it took a while to sink in, but we did it. You know.Kevin K (04:56.175)Well, things move a little more slowly in Savannah, right?Eric (04:58.938)Absolutely they move slow.Kevin K (05:01.586)Although, honestly, they move slowly everywhere. So, what are you gonna do?Eric (05:07.531)But I've seen the effects of some of those. And I think.You know, we've given people the vocabulary and in some cases, passion to go deal with some of these issues. Some of our elected officials, some of our staff members. And so I just wanted to kind of tell you that, you know, all those efforts that were pretty much thankless at the time are still somewhat thankless. But, you know, we did do it. We had an effect on that. So.I'm real proud of you and our efforts on there. So I wanted to throw that out there. There's some significant changes coming that I really can't mention. I don't think it's appropriate to mention right now. But when they do occur, you'll be shocked and you'll know exactly how much of an effect we had.Kevin K (05:54.046)That's great to hear.Eric (06:17.038)exciting to see if that does come to fruition. And everyone out there in podcast land, cause I've talked to other senior groups about doing this or those grassroots education efforts, they are thankless, just they're important though. It's really the most important thing I think you can do as a local group. So hammer away at that stuff, cause it does bear fruit.But back to your planning question, you know that master plan...Eric (06:57.246)was really good work. That our team.you know, just did some really amazing work in a very short time for what we were doing.Kevin K (07:08.89)on a shoestring too. I mean, we did that on a ridiculous budget.Eric (07:10.51)Oof.Yeah, yeah, we did. Um, but.Kevin K (07:17.078)I mean you and almost – you and basically everybody else donated huge amounts of time or else it never would have gotten done.Eric (07:24.47)Well, you know, again, I think it's kind of the same thing. You know, we did get, you know, city council to adopt that guide.You know, I don't know that they have ever gone back and looked at it since then. Um, but it has. Spurned off and affected a lot of things. You know, the tide to town has been a success here, which is, you know, kind of linking up, um, some bike trails with some of our canals Savannah's got a lot of canals, um, and waterways.and kind of tying all those together so that you can really get somewhere substantial on a bike that's in a nice interesting setting, you're not sharing the road with automobiles. So that's just, they just got more funding for their next phase. It's very, it's a huge success story and that's probably the biggest one that came out of that effort. You know, there'sThere's continuing work with the Civic Center, which is one of the focal points of that plan. And the work we put in there is a good kind of milestone, I think, to judge the future work by.Eric (09:00.246)And the Waters corridor has finished up and it looks really nice. I just went, I was over there the other day. And so, you know, those efforts kind of helped that area a little bit, which was part of the East side charrette as well from the Congress.Kevin K (09:21.13)Yeah. You know, one of the things we used to talk about, Eric, it kind of may help people to have some context to know that this was basically a planning effort that we put together that was outside City Hall. We worked kind of through the remnants of Savannah Development and Renewal Authority, but we also went out and raised money privately andand pieced it together. And that was something like, you and I used to talk about that all the time, how, I wonder if you could just expand on this, you know, that one of the frustrations we have is that in so many cities, the business community and people who ought to know better about development and, you know, things that would work well, at least financially in a city.the business community largely has kind of stepped away from being involved in planning and we used to just, that's something we kind of wrung our hands about all the time. Even in a great historic city like Savannah that was often the case, but clearly cities all over the country, you know, it's just been a sea change in how people think about that. And I wonder if you could kind of share some of your thoughts on that.Eric (10:43.033)Yeah, so...You know, I'm a big history buff, history fan, as it relates to planning, but just in general. And, you know, when you look at some of the great plans that have been done.Eric (11:05.366)plan for San Francisco, the plan for Chicago, heck, even the 1815 plan for Manhattan. You know, it wasn't the city of Chicago didn't do that plan. It was the business community that wrote Dan Burnham and Unlimited Check to go get it done, make us a world-class city.And San Francisco did the same thing.It's because the business community needed a competitive city to be competitive in an emerging national market, you know, and never in our history until probably, I would guess, posted.post-war or maybe probably during the depression that started where you had you started to rely on government agencies to do that.you know, because there was no planning profession prior to 19 something, 1912, maybe. Um, and so that's interesting. Um, again, how we used to do it. And, you know, not, I sound like an old man, get off my lawn kind of thing, but, um, you know, it worked and it, those were beautiful plans and they've stood the test of time. They've built magnificent world-class cities.Eric (12:31.282)Chicago is a top three, top five US city, however you want to rank it. San Francisco same. So, you know, you know, so where's our business community? What's the question you and I kind of asked ourselves over some beverages, I think one or two nights and you know, it's.It's different. It's different now. And I don't think we realized this at the time, but you know, let's say in 1893, you know, the business community in Chicago and you had some national, you know, obviously Sears was based, I think Sears was based out there at the time. And you know, you had some national companies, but you know, businesses were for the most part locally owned.Eric (13:30.042)So you had the department store that was locally owned. It wasn't a Macy's yet. It wasn't a Woolworths yet. There were locally owned businesses that did things, steel mills, building cars or mufflers or whatever it was. And all that's gone. Literally that whole class of independent businessmen.that are locally based and care about where they actually are and where they live and how their kids are going to view all this. Those guys are gone and they're replaced with global.corporate MBA dipshits that just care about stock price. And so they're running a global company out of somewhere. And it's real hard to get them to do anything other than for the PR work. And raising funds for CNU, I think we've got a taste of that. But what was interesting is Delta's based out ofAtlanta Chick-fil-A is based out of Atlanta. And so they were willing to fund some efforts in their home market they perceived it as. So we got lucky with a few of those. But Gulfstream here is one of our few major businesses in Savannah. And they do a ton in the community. They do. But they don't gives**t's about the planning work here. It's just not on their radar.Eric (15:18.166)You know, so I think that.that whole shift is something to be cognizant of. And you have to find kind of that civic leadership somewhere else. And by all means, if you have a local-based business, then lean on them. They're just not that prevalent like they used to be. Before we relied on the city.You know, here we have obviously tourism groups that are interested in the planning. So, you know, they provide some of that leadership, right or wrong. And...Eric (16:07.678)I think you have to, you know, as a...You know, as like what we were doing is basically, you know, guerrilla warfare, you know, I always viewed it as, you know, working outside the system as the system isn't getting it done. You know, we were trying to model our efforts on, you know, what some of the great planners before us, Daniel Burnham, and them were doing and engage that business community. And, you know, we found some success here.And so for people that might be trying that same thing, I would do some research into where some of the capital or trusts are in your city. Those are usually good sources for funding efforts to do stuff like this.Kevin K (17:04.594)Yeah, I was thinking about like, even here in Kansas City, we had a great City Beautiful Plan like a lot of American cities did, starting sort of 1880s and all the way through the 1910s. It's interesting that there's a couple of great books that talk about how the creation of the Parks and Boulevards plan here. There was a core group of local business people, including the newspaper publisher that basicallytown and lobbied for that thing to happen. They hired a famous landscape architect at the time, George Kessler, who was an Olmsted disciple. And they basically went around and lobbied to make sure it would happen. And over 100 years later, that's as big a part of what the city is known for as anything for people who come here and see it. And you can see the Parks and BoulevardKevin K (18:02.814)I mean, that's pretty common all over the place. I think you make a great point too about just like the local civic leadership in like, do you ever think about that like in your, compared to your native Ohio? So Eric grew up in Ohio and you know, Ohio is interesting because let's say, you know, 70, 80 years ago, there was unbelievable wealth and industry and local leadership and great cities that were built.As a result, great architecture, but it's probably suffered as much as any place with a lot of those companies becoming part of what you describe. They all eventually got absorbed and combined and merged or dissolved. And there's not as much of that local civic leadership as there probably was.Eric (18:56.934)No, it's not. You know, all those rust belt cities. Pittsburgh's actually probably the best example of a city that was able to pivot quickly, in part because they have a variety of higher learning institutions there that really help them become a research center in many ways and survive the shift away from making steel.Eric (19:25.955)and you know.Cleveland in 1920 was a top five city. It was number four or five city in America in terms of population. And it fell off a cliff there. I mean, it's still a big city, but it's a skeleton of itself. Everybody lives in the burbs, mostly.You know, they don't make, Cleveland never made cars or they made some steel, but they made a lot of the stuff that went into cars, mufflers, transmissions, engines, um, all sorts of that stuff and some steel. But I'll, you know, a lot of that's gone. Not all of it, but most of it.Eric (20:14.026)But you know, I think.Eric (20:18.334)I think those grassroot efforts to find better planning and better design work and expecting better.I think it needs to start with somebody in the community. If that business community is not there, then maybe it's a neighborhood association or downtown association or somebody needs to start it. And I think just follow that path of educating and doing some demonstrative projects, which I know you've done both in Kansas City and-time here in Savannah, you know, just showing how you can, nobody knew what a parklet was. You know, after that, I did one and, um, you know, COVID kind of opened that box and in many places.Kevin K (21:06.385)So we just went out and did one.Eric (21:17.778)I think it's just, but you're fighting uphill guerrilla warfare, but it's actually easier that way because you don't have to answer anybody. You just kind of do what you do. And so I really enjoyed that time we were doing that stuff here.And you know, we just met, a couple of us met again here in the fall. You know, we're going to pick up on some of that again, which is somewhat falling off the radar here. I just haven't had the same time that I had when you and I were doing it.Kevin K (21:54.73)Yeah. And Savannah also is, I guess it's kind of unique when you think about it because it's got, they're probably more like multi-generation families and people who are really invested in the place than there are in other cities in the country. We had a lot of luck with like realtors and other people who also cared about real estate value. But there definitely were, there are.some of those still legacy families that give a damn about the place and what it's changing into for better or worse. I think probably a lot of cities have that, but it felt like maybe some of those older southern cities, Savannah, Charleston, Beaufort, where it used to be, might have a little more of that than other places.Eric (22:46.226)Yeah. Yeah, no, I agree. You know, this, this whole topic is really almost worth.Eric (22:55.147)a CNU sub-chapter or, you know, boot camp for guerrilla warfare or something.Kevin K (23:01.508)Ha haEric (23:03.574)You know, how, how to affect change in your local city. That would be actually an interesting session to do. Cause I get asked a lot on stuff.Kevin K (23:16.914)Yeah. Well, and you've also done it not just in Savannah but in Beaufort. You were there with like what, 14 years? Yeah. Something like that. All right.Eric (23:24.082)I don't remember yet, a long time. No, more than that actually, but because I'm getting old now. But yeah, and you know.Kevin K (23:31.736)HeheheEric (23:36.866)There's, you know, once you start waving the flag, people come out of the woodwork and say, yeah, you know, that's a good point, or I agree with that, or, but, you know, you got to, somebody's got to light the fire.Kevin K (23:51.651)Yeah.So what else is happening in Savannah these days? What are you seeing from a development or a design standpoint? I know when I left town and since then, there's been a lot more, I guess what we call, large-scale development east of downtown and a little bit on the west of downtown. And then we had a lot of discussions about, how do you make incremental?change and make some of that missing middle stuff easier in the older neighborhoods? What are you seeing these days? Is it kind of gradual change? Does it feel like things are moving faster or what?Eric (24:35.596)Um...Eric (24:39.702)No, it's there's, you know, if you drive over the bridge into Savannah from South Carolina, you know, I did it the other day and I don't know, there were 13 cranes, you know, the amount of cranes in the air is always a good judge of what's going on. And, you know, we are in that stage where.We kind of are coming out of a stage where we couldn't build hotels fast enough anywhere.And they've kind of run out of downtown space, although not entirely.actually they two of the biggest buildings you knowjust sold to hotel companies that are going to convert them back. The one building used to be a hotel that sits on Johnson Square. That's going to be converted back to a hotel, so we're losing all that office space. And the one East Bryant building, which is the tallest building in Savannah, was just bought. It's going to be at Ritz Carlton.Kevin K (25:42.58)Okay.Kevin K (25:54.63)Oh wow, that's quite an upgrade. It was a great building.Eric (25:57.59)Well, yeah, it's a great building. It's just, you know, it's displacing. We're losing two of the major office buildings downtown. Um, and you know, there's a ton of hotel buildings still going on. Um, there's a couple on their construction. I can see out my window here. Um,And the other thing is the large apartment building that takes up as much, you know, it's as much of a Texas donut as you can fit on whatever site you're on. So there's probably.Eric (26:37.558)six, seven of those going on in various parts of town right now. And some just finished, some just finished up. There are several kind of over by the bridge. There's a lot on upper Montgomery Street that are either built or coming online. That whole area is kind of marching southward. There's a couple of infill ones over by where I live. There's two right, right by my.Eric (27:09.858)And you know they're just they're huge big buildings and the ones inside the historic district you know have enough of a review process. I was walking by the one the other day and you know it's got a really nice brick to it. It's got nice windows you know but the all the you know all the details are kind of crappy. You know theThey made them put brick lintel up there, but it's fake. You know, it doesn't overhang the masonry at all. So, you know, all that little stuff that we kind of gripe about, you know, that stuff's not a hundred percent, but you know, the building forms okay and the materials are okay. But then you look at the ones that are outside that district and holy s**t, it looks just like the fourth war in Atlanta or, you know.any big city is that nameless, shitty architecture.the crazy colors and the rain screen b******t and the ins and outs and the balconies and all sorts of just, you can just see that those fall apart within 10 years. So we're getting some of that, you know, wherever they can do it, they try that. Thankfully, historic district kind of protects us from that to some degree. These are the same issues, you know, Charleston faced as well.We're usually about seven years behind whatever Charleston's going through.Eric (28:50.647)And but you know, it's especially during COVID.You know, all the downtown real estate in a span of 18 months doubled in value, doubled and had already, you know, I'll be here 10 years.Eric (29:10.527)in October.Eric (29:15.514)And you know everything's over four times of what it cost when I first moved here. Coming up on five times. So, you know, there's...Kevin K (29:27.182)It was already kind of at a high basis by then, at that point, honestly.Eric (29:34.376)It's, you know, coming up on, you know, residential stuff in my neighborhoods.Eric (29:46.622)eight, nine hundred bucks a foot. Something like that, you know?which is pretty expensive.Kevin K (29:56.786)Yeah, that's the understatement.Eric (30:00.987)You know and so that's kind of what's going on here. You know it's really filling in and you know theMidtown District, which is south of the Historic District, south of Forsyth Park, that continues to thrive.Eric (30:26.07)you know, some businesses, mostly food and beverage stuff opening up. And, you know, that neighborhoods, which is your old neighborhood, that's, that's also seen a similar, you know, bump in value, you know, which was a lot more affordable back in the day. It's even be hard pressed to find something, you know, under a million bucks up there now or something close to that.$800, $900, $800, $900. And tons of people, especially during COVID, they flocked here, man. There's so many people that cashed out of, my old neighbors were from Brooklyn. Sold whatever they had in Brooklyn, paid cash for whatever and put money in their pocket. So it's so cheap compared to those kinds of places.Still, still is.But yeah, it's a big jump in population here. And it's been interesting, because it's a big jump in.Eric (31:39.586)people living, so that's good. And then, we're still overrun with our, and most people I'm sure won't know that, but Savannah's got a hellacious take rate for Airbnbs, short term rentals. I've never come across anywhere that has any sort of ordinance like the one we have. It's 25% non-owner occupied.Kevin K (32:00.33)HeheheEric (32:09.226)by ward, which is our neighborhood system, if you will. So that doesn't include the owner-occupied ones or the illegal ones. So just the economics on that math drives a lot of... A lot of the Victorians were picked up as Airbnb investments by holding companies. I mean, they would sell without even looking at them just because they can do the math, right?Kevin K (32:39.286)I keep wondering when that bubble's gonna burst. Feels like it's bursting nationwide in different places, the Airbnb bubble, but Savannah, Charleston, those cities are so popular. I don't know.Eric (32:52.49)Yeah, the tourism numbers here are ridiculous for a city of this size, honestly. And with the last round of hotels online now and more coming, it's really overrun with tourists. It just wasn't designed to have as many people as we have here. So it's like, you need reservations now to go get dinner. It's like Manhattan.It's hard to roll in unless you find a neighborhood joint. There's a few left. You can just roll in and you happen to know somebody and you get dinner. Otherwise, there's her standing in line for some of these dumb restaurants. It's like.Kevin K (33:35.498)Hmm. Yeah, that's a new thing.Eric (33:37.975)this.Kevin K (33:38.998)So I also want to talk a little bit about how your practice has changed over the years and like what all you're doing today. Eric's firm is Brown Design Studio. He's an architect. He's done architecture and urban design and urban planning but probably heavier on architecture. And I'm curious like – so you've been doing this a couple of years now? And –You know, obviously a lot has changed from when you initially started doing like new working in new urbanist communities and doing the architecture you're doing. What do you see in today that what if anything is kind of different about your approach and what you're working on, who your clients are, that sort of thing?Eric (34:30.783)Um, that's like, you know, that's a good question.I think, and this is our 26th year in business. So we've survived a couple minor meltdowns and one major one, but our whole focus, we don't do anything that's not, that wouldn't be classified as new urbanism, whether it's infill work or.Greenfield work or something in between. So, you know, we're not like local architects doing whatever comes in the door locally. You know, we work solely in New Urbanist projects, you know, across North America and a few other spots. But that's what we continue to do. And so, you know, not much has changed.In that regard, that's always what our mission was. And we're still on our, it's like the Starship Enterprise, we're on our 26th year mission to help build healthy, walkable places. And it's worth it. It's been a fun challenge. So we continue to do that. We have long-term relations with a lot of, most of our clients are developers. And we have...You know, we have some long-term relationships that, you know, we're here when they need us. They know what we do and, you know, what we're good at, what we're not good at. Um, so that's, that's our, that's our core. That's our core right there.Kevin K (36:19.658)Do you find yourself doing more infill these days as opposed to greenfield stuff or is that not the case?Eric (36:31.054)Um, no, it's, you know, we always, we've always done, you know, because something that plugs in a new urbanist community also plugs in an older urbanist community. You know? Um, and so those always went hand in hand for us, but you know, to, to the heart of your point, yeah, after, you know, definitely after, you know, when the market came back in 2012, 13, whatever 14, you know, um,Definitely we're doing a lot of smaller infill projects. Some of them are pretty random. We'll get a call from a guy in Michigan somewhere that wants to do six townhouses on an urban property his parents owned or something. All sorts of stuff like that all over the place. And some bigger projects, there's still some bigger projects kind of plodding along.we were able to do.Eric (37:34.562)project in Oklahoma, outside Norman, in between Norman and Oklahoma City. That's pretty interesting, a greenfield project. It's big, 720 acres. We did that planning work about three years ago and last year we just got some finished vertical architecture done. So we're continuing to work on that project that we're real proud of.which is called Salem. And it's been fun, you know, doing the land plan, you know, internally. A lot of times we work with some other land planners. So this one we did in-house and then you know with some other team members, but it's been real fun, real rewarding and then you know delivering the architecture to build it out. That's keeping us busy as well, you know that project.But yeah, we've always somehow been known for our missing middle work. We were doing that before anybody knew what to call it, before Dan had invented that term. And so that's still one of our bread and butters. We're still known for that somehow.Eric (38:55.714)done a lot of multi-family projects, continue to do those a lot, a lot of townhouses. And what's interesting is I finally got...Eric (39:08.054)You know, over the years, and I'm sure you've done this as well, you know, where you, you want to take a garden apartment guy and get him to do what we want him to do, right? And I've failed. I failed probably. I'm probably, I'm now like one in 17. So I've got one that I got to actually do it. Um, that's not totally true, but, um, this was a big, you know, 350 unit.project and we got him to build it out of, you know, four, six, eight and 12 pack units. And it's under construction right now. So that was interesting. I think that's going to be a good case study going forward because his rent, you know, I'm anxious to see how his rents compete. It's in a, it's in a, you know, a decent walkable community.So I'm interested to see how the financial case study works out.Kevin K (40:13.557)Where's that one?Eric (40:14.942)That one's in Bluffton, actually, which is across the river in South Carolina. Near for people who don't know it's near Hilton.Kevin K (40:16.842)Okay, cool.Eric (40:25.425)Um.Kevin K (40:27.476)How have the conversations changed with builders and developers since the early days of doing this stuff? Did you have to do a lot more arm-twisting early on with some of your early clients? Is it an easier sell now to do the kind of work that you want to do?Eric (40:50.27)Well, no, it's not. It's the same cell. However, you know, I'm not the smartest guy, but I eventually learned to stop chasing those clients. So, you know, I don't waste my time with them. If you want to do something else, you know, have fun. Here, I'll give you some names of people to call. You know, we can't help you. Um, because I don't give a s**t. You know, if you want to go do some five-car garage, houses somewhere, go have fun.Um, but, you know, so we only take on projects that, you know, are in line with our vision, our mission. And, you know, that that's just what I learned to do, you know, be selective about, you know, who we're going to work for, because we don't want to do everything. We only want to do, you know, something that helps our, our mission, which is, you know, building great communities. And, um, if we're, you know, in alignment,When people do call us, we're gonna run through a wall for them. And we believe in what we do every day. And so I guess I got smarter is what happened.Kevin K (42:02.292)I remember a lot of those conversations too. I got, my God, we went through trying to convince so many crappy builders and developers to do something better.Eric (42:12.31)And what was your, you know, and I did the same thing, man. Um, we were both young, you know, I have similar backgrounds and, you know, had young companies and were young men. Dumb young ideals that you probably put, you know, what was your, what was success rate on?Kevin K (42:14.378)there.Kevin K (42:24.259)Yeah.Oh, almost zero. Yeah.Eric (42:28.726)Yeah, it's like me with these apartment guys. I finally got one, a big one to do it. You know, we've done lots of little ones, but to get a 350 unit thing, that was a big win, but it took me 20 some years to do it. So that's not a good use of my time. But I think what's interesting.Kevin K (42:45.311)Yeah.Eric (42:56.014)is in my, you know, my, my victory that I'm kind of patting myself on the back about there with the apartment, they wouldn't have come to me.if they didn't get rejected prior, because it was, they had to conform with a form, form-based code that we have in the right. And so that's how, you know, otherwise they would have just happily built their normal shitty garden apartment. You know, so that code reform is still critically important.you know, part of our world. Cause you really, you know, convincing someone, you know, to do what we would term the right thing versus, you know, what they're planning on doing. It's a low percentage win rate for anybody. I don't care how good you are, you know, as a closer or whatever, but, and it's just, you know, it's a waste of all of our time and efforts cause it burns you out cause you lose so much.Kevin K (44:00.979)Yeah.Eric (44:01.954)And, you know, I think our efforts would be better spent into, you know, guerrilla warfare to get the codes changed so that these developers now have to start doing the right thing. And then.Kevin K (44:12.698)Yeah, and nurturing like other younger developers who want to do something different, helping bring them along.Eric (44:23.254)Yeah, for sure. Um, you know, but a lot of these projects, you know, are still the big boy, you need $40 million in capital to tackle and you know, those, those guys, you know, I love the small income stuff. We do a lot of that. Um, but you know, it's like, you're talking about the market share of like a Bugatti versus, you know, Volkswagen or something.Kevin K (44:30.098)Yeah. Yep.Kevin K (44:51.902)Yeah.Eric (44:52.374)You know, you got to change Volkswagen. You got to change the mass market.And so I think that guerrilla warfare into code reform at a local level is something that we don't advocate enough for, which goes way back to our start of our conversation. So I think that's, if I could do something besides outlawing traffic engineers.Kevin K (45:07.358)Yeah.Eric (45:22.814)That would be one of the things is push us on this code reform where everybody's working off some type of form-based code.Kevin K (45:32.166)Yeah. Well, it's interesting because even after working in that world for almost 30 years or whatever, we've seen some good efforts with code reform and some good efforts with regulatory reform but there are a lot of days where it feels like we've made zero progress depending on where you're working.Eric (45:56.)It is, you know, it's and I've.You know.Eric (46:03.734)Like the analogy is...Eric (46:08.27)You're.You know, somebody's spending all sorts of time and effort to build stuff downtown here. Great. And we're trying to, you know, expand downtown even, which is a, which is an awesome thing that we're able to do here a little bit, you know, expand your urban core. Meanwhile, you know, out in our suburbs are happily building, you know, Costco's and targets and all sorts of b******t subdivisions. And it's like.Eric (46:40.502)You know, we don't learn. And we don't learn. And some of the strong town stuff makes so much sense when you look at how the life cycle of those suburbs. And it's funny because poolers now, after spending all sorts of money on all sorts of great police stations and city halls and all this stuff, now all of a sudden, they've got funding that's different.Eric (47:10.847)It's just so funny because you know they're hitting that seven year curve on a lot of stuff.Eric (47:18.358)But, you know, I guess that's just, you know, it's just frustrating that the, the conventional model is still building, you know, what, 90% of our built environment here easily. And, um, you know, I guessKevin K (47:31.986)Yeah. Easily. Yeah.Eric (47:40.526)You know, I've just kind of almost accepted it. It's like almost you have to let that happen before you can come back and fix it in maybe 30 years or urbanize it in 30 years. It's almost like, you know, the old patterns of.development where you would build, you know, one story buildings down on Main Street. And then all of a sudden it made sense to somebody build a two story building and made more money than everybody tore down the one story buildings. And you just have to maybe go through that process, I guess. I don't know.Kevin K (48:14.198)Yeah, I mean, it's such a machine. All that stuff is such a – I mean, so you have to envy it. It's an incredible machine. The efficiency of it is amazing. It makes a ton of money for people if you get your timing right in the market. Of course, you could lose a ton of money if you get your timing wrong. But yeah, I like –I always think about like, I make the military analogy. So if you're somebody who cares about traditional urban planning, it's like we fight hand to hand combat in our older neighborhoods and we're really excited when we're in a battle or two. In the meantime, it's like the enemy is carpet bombing, you know, everything outside the older neighborhoods just at will and we kind of willfully ignore it. But yeah.It will continue on I think as long as it can continue on, it seems to.Eric (49:16.246)Well, you know, we're...were how many, you know, it's the expected lifestyle. You know, there's no more generations. There's very, you know, very few percentage of people that have not been raised in the suburbs. Yeah, so it's the normal and, you know, driving, you know, 25 minutes to.Kevin K (49:34.43)Yeah, exactly. It's been like four generations now, yeah.Eric (49:44.75)go to your super Kroger or whatever, or a grocery store, is normal for us.Kevin K (49:51.706)Yeah. That's like, so like the last thing I wanted to ask you is, I mean, so you just mentioned you've, you're working on this Greenfield project in Oklahoma. And I know, I know you well enough to know that you've worked, you still work on some other Greenfield projects here and there. But, but by and large, it seems like I might have the wrong impression about this. I fully admit that I could be wrong about it. You're more plugged into the, this world than I am, but it seems like there's a whole lot less.of those Greenfield New Urbanist projects going on than there were say 20 years ago across the country. I don't know. I guess I wonder, do you think that's wrong or right? If that's the case, what's going on? I think we all thought that once Seaside and all those projects and then Kentlands and once they were all 10, 15 years old.and people saw how cool they were that we would see like an explosion of these around the country and that clearly hasn't happened.Eric (50:55.65)Not exactly. And I think you're, you know, I think you're right. Our, I think our expectations 20 years ago that we were going to change the machine or if not the machine, at least the, my thought was always you would show the market there alternatives.Kevin K (51:18.678)Admittedly, we were like naive and idealistic. I mean that was also part of it.Eric (51:23.67)Well, you know, I'm still kind of that same naive, idealistic person in many ways, which is both pro and cons. But, you know, I think...Eric (51:40.466)I think these projects.Eric (51:46.102)have shown people.that there are alternatives to living in the cul-de-sac, conventional neighborhood world.Eric (52:00.358)And I think that if you look at the market research, it shows you the prices in Ketlin's, the prices in ION, the prices in Norton Commons is significantly higher than its competitor that's a conventional thing right next door or right down the road.Eric (52:30.076)But it also takes 10, 15 years to do something like that. And meanwhile,You know, most of the development work is.Eric (52:45.398)you know, it's easier to go to a D.R. Horton and be done in three, four years, five years. You're done. Right. And the landowner got their money in the first year.They didn't get as much money as they could have, but they got it the first year and they're out. They're on to the next thing.You know, and I think there's just a perfect storm of all these variables there. Those are some of them, you know, the time investment that it takes. I think, you know, we've all, UI has stolen most of the good ideas of the new urbanism that they can make sense of on a spreadsheet, right? And they've thrown all the other stuff away. So they, you know, they have,co-opted some things from us, but you know, UIs, those folks are developing most of the stuff here, you know, not the Urban New Urbanist group, NTBA is a fantastic group that I really enjoy spending time with.Eric (53:56.066)You know, those are developers that are in one, two, three, four places, you know, for 10 years, 15 years, or, you know, you can only do so much. Even the bigger, more sophisticated ones. You know, meanwhile, these other guys are just, you know, knocking down 10,000 houses a year.Kevin K (54:22.686)Yeah, and while I think we kind of recognized how hard it was to do those first TNDs 30 years ago, and I think it's gotten a little easier, it's still incredibly hard. Everything about it is incredibly hard, and you really have, it's kind of a unique personality of a developer who wants to take that on and push for it, because you're gonna be fighting, even today, you're still gonna be fighting so many battles.to just execute even a mediocre T&D.Eric (54:56.626)And, you know, I think there's, you know, there's still a lot of Greenfield work. I think you're seeing a little bit of, you know, obviously no one, not many projects survived 2008. And so, you know, you didn't see many come back on.It took a long time for them to come back online. And in some places, our sailor project, which has virtually very little regulatory oversight, it took three years to get vertical, which is unheard of anywhere else. Most places are still in their entitlements in year three. It takes you five years to come out of the ground. Most places.Eric (55:45.89)You know, it's just a long investment. And, you know, again, the ULI guys are typically...A lot of those guys have to answer to the capital.And the capital is not that patient generally. You know what I mean? They gotta have a plan to move so much dirt or lots or whatever it is. And they just can't wait into something for 10, 15 years, it's hard. I think for that group to understand that. And I guess, you know, that's.Kevin K (56:04.233)Mm-hmm.Eric (56:25.858)you know, maybe something that we have never solved is how do you engage that industry in a different way. And, you know, you remember back to the New Urban Fund that was supposed to show them how to do it. Um, that didn't quite work.So I don't know, you know, it's that.Eric (56:47.362)I, you know, I'm a market guy. So the market guys believe the market's going to kind of tell you what to do. And, you know, they're going to go the easy route, but they're going to put in the big pool and all the stuff that helps them increase their sales rate and all that kind of stuff. And, you know, it is what it is.But the people who do, you know, trail with outside Atlanta, they're doing great. They're killing it. You know, so whenever we do these, you know, Norton Commons continues to kill it.They just dominate the market. Once, once you do it, you can do it right. We haven't been able to set up the machine in most cases, you know, the industry to, to continue that it's always been kind of a family or one-off or. You know, very few of these have been done by corporate folks, I guess, just like watercolor that there's been a few, but, you know, they quickly went back to selling pine forest or whatever they were doing before that.Kevin K (57:54.102)Yeah, exactly. Like St. Joe Company did watercolor and water sound and stuff and they own so much land and I think they – it seems like they've kind of gone away from that back to a hybridized version of what they were doing before.Eric (58:08.574)Yeah, and it's, so I don't know, man. I, you know, I do think, you know, if you, if you look around, there's also a lot of smaller projects that we don't really hear about. You know, if you call up Mike Watkins or somebody like that, Mike, Mike's extremely busy and that's what he's working on. You know, he's working on these a hundred acre little projects that he's, you know, nailing and, you know, we do a lot of work with Mike andTom Lowe and those guys. There's a lot of smaller projects that just you aren't gonna hear about. And they're never gonna be, you know, we've done some DPZ. We've got a DPZ project that's stuck entitlement in the entitlement process that we're set up to do some of the architecture on. But you know, it's year four.Kevin K (58:42.536)Interesting.Eric (59:00.394)So they'll call us when they need us, but there's not as many getting the limelight that we used to get. And I, you know, I just had this conversation with Rob Studeville, who used to do one of my favorite things, which was write the New Urban News. I love getting that magazine every month. Remember? Um, so it was good to catch up with him about that, but he, you know, he had those same thoughts and, um, you know, I just don't think maybe as a movement, we're communicating what we're doing very well with.Kevin K (59:15.936)Mm-hmm.Kevin K (59:29.534)Yeah.Eric (59:30.13)other. You know, nobody knows about my Salem project. It's probably one of the bigger ones. You know, Mike doesn't, you know, Michael shares stuff, you know, when he needs one of us to come in and help him on stuff. I don't know what they're doing.I don't know what DPZ or Dover Cole is doing, unless we're working on a specific project with them. So we really don't share as much as we used to.Kevin K (59:57.67)Yeah, I think that's a great point. You know, it's like another, we could do a whole other hour sometime on how CNU itself has changed and gotten away from a lot of the practical side of just building great communities. And I think a big part of that is we've lost, we're not talking to each other about who's doing what. And we used to actually have a running list of all these places all over the country. I don't think that even exists anymore.Eric (01:00:25.798)I don't think that's a priority anymore.Kevin K (01:00:27.558)No, it doesn't seem to be.Eric (01:00:30.434)But you know, I think.Eric (01:00:34.282)you know, that, that CNU group.has gotten away from communicating and with each other our successes. Cause that's a large, cause it kept you going. You know, we'd all go back to our little hometowns after seeing you and you feel, I would feel renewed and re-energized. And, um, you know, I would, I would love getting New Urban News in the mail. And I would, whatever I was doing, I would stop and sit down and read the thing. Cause it was great to hear about, you know, some new exciting stuff or some new projects.And ironically, in an age where it's very easy to communicate these days, you know, we don't. We don't pat ourselves on the back. We don't share our success stories.Kevin K (01:01:21.242)It's kind of like seeing you never evolve and communication wise we never evolved past the email to serve.Eric (01:01:28.53)No, you're right. You're exactly, you're 100% about that. The most painful way to communicate that's ever been invented, I think.Kevin K (01:01:29.618)Kind of hilarious. Yeah.Kevin K (01:01:36.864)No doubt.Eric (01:01:38.114)except maybe the group text, I don't know.Kevin K (01:01:42.697)Yeah. Eric, I think we'll wrap it there. It's been about an hour. What are your, what's your favorite spots in Savannah? Your favorite hangout spots these days.Eric (01:01:53.902)Hmm, that's a good question. Depends what my mood is. But, you know, I've got a...I've got a couple of establishments, you know, two blocks from my house that you're most likely to find me in one of those three places. You got, you know, the most famous dive bar in the world, Pinky's.Kevin K (01:02:16.159)Mm-hmm.Kevin K (01:02:19.914)Mm-hmm.Eric (01:02:23.642)There's a place called Savoy, which is run by the people who own Pinkies. And I think that wasn't there when you were here, was it? So that while you were here, it was this kind of shitty wine bar that nobody ever wants. So it's in that space in the Drake Tower. And it's, you know, you go in there and it's 95% locals, 90% something like that. So, you know, I hang out there and then, you know, over by the...Kevin K (01:02:32.05)I don't think I don't remember it now.Kevin K (01:02:37.57)Oh, yeah, yeah. OK.Eric (01:02:53.198)Perry Lane Hotel. There's some stuff there. Those are my hangouts these days.Kevin K (01:02:59.454)All right, so anybody listening, if you're in Savannah, you know where to find Eric, buy him a drink and talk about all this stuff and much more and find out what he's up to. So it's been great to catch up with you. I'll get my butt down there to Savannah one of these days soon so we can dive a little deeper and do the off-color stuff.Eric (01:03:25.17)Okay, good. I don't think you have to censor anything. So I was on my best behavior. But, you know, I, again, just want to reiterate, I think it's great that you're doing this. This is a great way to communicate with folks. Again, we need to do kind of more of this stuff. And, you know, I think just to reiterate earlier, you know, we accomplished a lot here, man. So I'm proud to.Kevin K (01:03:30.11)Not this time, yeah.Eric (01:03:54.606)have had you here as a Superman to my Batman or whatever, whatever you want to term it. So I miss you.Kevin K (01:04:00.29)Thank you.As long as it's not Batman or Robin.Eric (01:04:07.158)I don't want to see you in tights. That would not be a pretty sight, but miss you here, buddy. I appreciate you.Kevin K (01:04:10.305)Nobody.Thanks very much. I definitely miss you, Miss Savannah. I need to find myself there more often. So good to talk to you. See you.Eric (01:04:22.466)All right, buddy. Get full access to The Messy City at kevinklinkenberg.substack.com/subscribe

Conheca edifícios importantes americanos que todo turista deve conhecer. Empire State Building O Empire State Building é um arranha-céu de 102 andares localizado na cidade de Nova York. É o edifício mais alto da cidade e um dos mais famosos do mundo. O edifício foi construído em 1931 e foi o edifício mais alto do mundo até 1972. O Empire State Building é um marco da arquitetura americana. É um exemplo de arquitetura Art Déco e possui uma estrutura de aço e concreto armado. O edifício também possui uma plataforma de observação no 86º andar, que oferece uma vista panorâmica da cidade de Nova York. Edifício Flatiron O Edifício Flatiron é um arranha-céu de 22 andares localizado na cidade de Nova York. É um dos edifícios mais emblemáticos da cidade. O edifício foi construído em 1902 e foi projetado pelo arquiteto Daniel Burnham. O Edifício Flatiron tem um formato triangular, que é uma característica distintiva do edifício. O edifício também é um exemplo de arquitetura Beaux-Arts. Capitólio dos Estados Unidos O Capitólio dos Estados Unidos é a sede do Congresso dos Estados Unidos. O edifício está localizado em Washington, D.C., e foi construído em estilo neoclássico. O Capitólio dos Estados Unidos foi construído entre 1793 e 1800. O edifício é um marco da história americana e abriga as câmaras do Senado e da Câmara dos Deputados. Casa Branca A Casa Branca é a residência oficial do presidente dos Estados Unidos. O edifício está localizado em Washington, D.C., e foi construído em estilo federal. A Casa Branca foi construída entre 1792 e 1800. O edifício é um marco da história americana e abriga as salas de estar, os escritórios e os aposentos do presidente. Hollywood Sign O Hollywood Sign é um sinal icônico localizado na cidade de Los Angeles, Califórnia. O sinal foi construído em 1923 e foi originalmente construído para promover um empreendimento imobiliário. O Hollywood Sign é feito de letras de metal. As letras foram originalmente pintadas de branco, mas foram pintadas de ouro em 1949. O sinal é um dos marcos mais famosos do mundo e é um símbolo da indústria cinematográfica de Hollywood. Golden Gate Bridge A Golden Gate Bridge é uma ponte suspensa que liga a cidade de São Francisco ao norte da Califórnia. A ponte foi construída entre 1933 e 1937 e é uma das pontes mais famosas do mundo. A Golden Gate Bridge é uma ponte suspensa de aço. Possui um vão de 1.280 m, que é o maior do mundo. A ponte é um marco da arquitetura americana e é um símbolo da cidade de São Francisco.

In this episode Charles L. Davis II (UT Austin) speaks with Rebecca Tinio McKenna (University of Notre Dame) and David Brody (Parsons School of Design) on their books which investigate the ways architecture helped to reinforce American cultural influence over the Philippines.

There are two ways to double your business. One is really hard, and one is significantly easier, and the difference is boldness.   It can take a long time to double your revenue, but 10X thinking can change everything. When you think on a 10X level, it becomes easier to reimagine everything. Boldness brings with it an excited kind of terror, but are you ready to play a big, bold game? If so, you need a BHAG.   Your BHAG needs to challenge you to think bigger than ever before. Consider Kennedy committing the U.S. to winning the race to the moon or Daniel Burnham's invitation to do something truly awesome that has the magic to stir men's (or women's) blood. That is the kind of inspiration that people can get behind.   There is power in declaring your vision boldly, but there is also a balance that has to be met. It has to be something that has never been done before, it has to be something worth doing, and it has to be aligned with your purposes. But it has to be declared within reason. Bill Galagher might not be the next man in space; Elon Musk is a more likely candidate. Be awesome, but don't be absurd.   Resources: 20,000 Scaleups Scaling Up Summits (Select Bill Gallagher as your coach during registration for a discount.) Bill on YouTube Recruiter.com Shortlist (use code scaleup)   Scaling Up is the best-selling book by Verne Harnish and our team for Scaling Up Coaches (formerly Gazelles). We share how the fastest-growing companies succeed where so many others fail.   Bill Gallagher, Scaling Coach and host of the show, is an international business coach who works with C-Suite leaders to achieve breakthrough growth.   We help leadership teams with the biggest decisions around People, Strategy, Execution, and Cash so that they can Scale Up successfully and beat the odds of business growth. Scaling Up is based on Verne's original best-selling business book, Mastering the Rockefeller Habits.   Did you enjoy today's episode? If so, then please leave a review! Help other business leaders discover the Scaling Up Business Podcast so they, too, can benefit from the ideas shared in these podcasts.  

Being known by the company you keep.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.Life exists in both seconds and years. Don’t ignore one for the other.I would like to thank the phone operator and Chief of the Burnham, Illinois Police Department for answering my questions, despite their bizarre nature.(Monday Night)I should have known to not have too good a time. My karma was wacky enough as it was. It was about to get worse in a way I should have foreseen. Ain’t hindsight grand?Inside of five seconds I knew how much sharing Libra and Brooke did; a lot. On the plus side, it gave me some wiggle room with Libra where sex with Brooke was concerned. On the super-plus side, Brooke was looking forward to ratcheting up our sex play. I took her to Libra’s experiences with all the extra bells and whistles.In this case it meant adding a blindfold and ball-gag to the hand restraints. Brooke handed me a high level of trust unexpected at this early moment in our sexcapade. With a quick empathic insight, I pulled her ball-gag down as her orgasm erupted. She rejoiced in the sound of her rapture echoing around my bedroom.I deceived her into her next climax by whispering a promise to release her then hammering her instead. The whole specter of powerlessness tore her up inside. Best of all, even as she spasmed beneath me, I released her cuffs then pulled up her mask. Her fingernails dug into my trapezius muscles. For over a minute, she clung to me with a deep hunger to feel my heat and sweat against her body.“My turn,” she rasped. I pressed my shoulders and head up so I could look into her eyes. She was waiting for this opportunity since she’d talked with Libra. Without question, she’d never been tied down before, or tied a man down and had her way with him. She’d manipulated men most of her life; that was old hat.This was primal, physical and forbidden. She was taking complete control of my person. God, I thought she’d orgasmed when she finished cuffing me to the headboard. Taunting, teasing and hot body contact followed as she put the ball-gag in. Sizzling lips sealed my fate as the blindfold was slipped in place.Having invested so much time using all my senses soaking up the hungry beast that Brooke possessed right beneath her urbane surface, losing my eyesight wasn’t a major drawback. For Brooke, this had all the benefits of anonymous sex in a blacked-out room with the bonus of her having the lights on for her use alone. My bet was she had studied stuff on-line.From being sure she wasn’t going to have sex with me when she first met, she had graduated to running naked across my living room for what turned out to be lemon slices. The ‘fumph’ of the Nerf gun made me assume Timothy shot her in the buttocks as she raced into my room. By the yip from Brooke, I knew Timothy’s aim remained frighteningly accurate.Lemon juice and cuts don’t mix, or, Brooke enjoyed watching my body jolt as said juice interacted with said 'workplace’ mistakes. Was I angry? Nah. Every hiss of pain was followed by lavished kisses, licks and hair lashings. I loved her long black hair draped over my body, flicked around whisk-like and tickling my nose.Brooke was learning my keystone technique; figure out what your partner wants and give them a quick sample. Don’t use any one thing too much; make it a treat and they’ll appreciate the taste they get even more. When Brooke finally sated us both, it was my turn again. We talked a while. She invited me to a friend’s place in the Hamptons which suggested to me the destination was more than some made-up place on TV.I promised to think about it. Brooke took that to mean she needed to work harder to convince me. I honestly had little desire to be trotted around as Brooke’s boy toy. Hoping that wouldn’t be the case relied a lot on faith. I wasn’t sure what I would have in common with any of that crowd, which guided me back to being a stuck up snob for treating a people as a social class and not as human beings.I took out my social anxiety on Brooke. Poor girl; three holes, ten positions and I’m not sure how many times I took her from frenzied peak to frenzied peak. All I knew was when she’d passed all points of previous primeval ecstasy, I finally released her. Brooke curled into a semi-fetal ball and began burrowing into me.“Happy?” I asked as I stroked her sweat-drenched hair. She nodded happily against my chest. “Are you glad you came over?” I continued. Brooke bit me because she knew I was teasing her. “Ow,” I grumbled. “I think we have a misunderstanding who is whose sex toy here.”“Do I need to bite you again?” Brooke mumbled into my chest.“Point taken,” I conceded. Brooke snuggled in even tighter. We wrestled out of bed, stumbled into the shower and took some time off with Timothy. He looked at us and smirked.“Cáel is going to be my boyfriend,” Brooke tossed out there. Huh?“What in God’s green earth makes you want to do that?” Timothy chuckled.“He’s been there when I needed him. Cáel is a real man and it has taken me having a really tough spill to realize that it doesn’t matter which alumni your Daddy belongs to, but what you put on the line for your friends that really matters,” Brooke enlightened us both.“Seriously Dude,” Timothy looked at me with pity.“Cut down on the awesome dicking until somehow polygamy becomes legal,” he added, but then, “Brooke, you know he’s seeing about a dozen different ladies, right?”“Cáel is looking for a serious relationship,” Brooke insisted. Timothy chortled because he knew the likelihood of me settling down was right up there with us sharing a White Christmas in the Bahamas.“Let’s go back to bed, Babe,” I redirected things to safer waters. “It is your turn to be on top.” Brooke, wearing one of my fresh t-shirts and nothing else, hopped off the sofa and let me lead her back to the bedroom for another round of 'not thinking about any other part of my fucked up life except the beautiful woman with me right now’ sex.Twenty minutes later, Brooke had encased my rod in her wanton elixirs, was gyrating her hips as she stroked my rod inside her vagina while keeping me bound, blind and muffled. My phone rang.“Should I get that?” Brooke teased me. She moved enough to seize my cellular device.“The number is unlisted,” she mused. “Who could it be?” I gave a muffled response. She removed the ball-gag enough for me to speak.“Work,” I repeated. “It might be work. I’m on-call 24/7.”“Damn,” Brooke undoubtedly pouted (still blindfolded). She answered the call then placed the phone to my ear.“Cáel, a Security Detail detachment is on their way to your quarters as we speak. You will recognized the code they will use,” Katrina’s icy calm voice informed me.“Katrina, what is wrong?” I inquired. Normally, I wouldn’t get an answer. Katrina’s tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.“There has been an incident at your Father’s home in Chicago. We do not have clear intelligence at this time. I may have more when you get in,” she related.“Understood,” I replied. My passionate storm abated and I felt empty inside. Dad.“Cáel?” Brooke sounded worried.“We need to get dressed,” I murmured. I had to let Timothy know something was truly wrong. I needed to get Brooke home safely. I…I needed to know more than I did right then. Brooke uncuffed me quickly. I barely had my boxers on when there was a light series of raps on the door. I sprang up, opened my bedroom door, surprising Odette.She must have come back to work a few minutes earlier and was unwinding with some low-volume TV and some sofa time. Timothy was asleep already.“Odette, go back to Timothy’s room and warn him something bad may have happened. Go!” I warned. Odette scampered back. Brooke was at my back, trying to move into the main room.“Brooke, stay here. If something unusual happens, hide in the bedroom and don’t come out until the police get here. Do you understand?” I met her confusion with an iron stare. She nodded. There was another, more insistent, rapping at my apartment door. I crept up to the portal and gave a counter-knock.“Crab Fisher-woman,” a female voice said from the other side.“My Father’s Sister,” I responded. It was an imperfect code, but effective given the circumstances. I double checked through the spy hole, unlocked the door and let three SD Amazons inside. How bad was it? I doubted these ladies would know more than I did.“[OKH] Ishara,” the leader said, “we have orders to escort you to Havenstone immediately.”They weren’t blindly expecting me to follow instructions. They had a directive they were following to the best of their ability.“[OKH] Will a team be watching my domicile?” I asked. The leader nodded. “We need to take a female I have been with tonight to her dwelling before going on to Havenstone.”The SD team leader nodded again. There was no condescension, or argument. They were following orders as if it was my right to issue them. That was how bad things were. Time to get back to English.“Brooke, finish getting dressed. I’m taking you home,” I called out.Quite frankly, along with my desire to see Brooke back home safely was my instinct to not split up my guardians. Better a longer trip than two smaller, more vulnerable groups. I was in the process of getting dressed in the living room when Timothy and Odette came out.“Bro?” Timothy asked.“My Father’s home was attacked. I have no other details right now,” I explained with a sinking feeling in my heart. Timothy read my soul, came up and engulfed me in his mighty arms. Odette added herself to the heart-felt love-pile.“Do you want me to take Odette and head back to Queens for a while?” Timothy asked.He sensed we had limited time.“They,” and by 'they’ he knew I meant Havenstone, “will have a team watching this place. There are not enough resources to go back and forth to work. I wish I could tell what would keep you safe, but I don’t know anymore.”“We’ll stay put,” Timothy declared. Odette nodded. “We’ll be here for you when you get back. If any of these psycho-broads want to stop by from time to time, I won’t say no.” I shot a look to the security team leader and she gave a curt 'okay’.“You’ll need an overnight bag!” Odette squeaked. Off she went.Brooke finished getting dressed and came to my side. To your average Lothario, what she did might seem odd. To me, it was the normal refrain; Brooke shoved her panties into my jean’s pocket. That was a not so subtle 'Call Me’ for when I got back.“Three minutes, Ish; Cáel,” the leader updated me.My amateur guess was this was the team from across the street. They had back-up vehicles and personnel streaking down from Havenstone to provide extra security for my move.“Velma,” she gave me her name. A quick description was in order. The three Amazons all had Bluetooth devices, shooting glasses and steel-gray long coats that had to be uncomfortable in this upper seventies evening heat.Underneath, they had on light ballistic body armor on their torsos, arms, and legs. Even their dull grey, all-terrain boots looked armored. They had a hip holstered sidearm, most likely a back-up pistol at the small of their backs and a deadly blade, or three. Their main deterrence was their H&K UMP-40; my second favorite Amazon killing device.Timothy snuck off to get my toiletries, returning around the same time Odette trundled out with an overnight (or three) bag. There was a final round of hugs then Velma indicated it was time to leave. The fourth member of the team was stationed at the top of the third floor stairs. That gave her a good view of my hallway as well as the passage going up and down.Two SD’s to the front, Velma and the fourth watching our backs and Brooke caught between giddy and freaking terrified. Things got even more exciting when we hit the bottom of the stairs. Two more ladies were waiting. They put a trench coat on Brooke and she nearly collapsed. The freed up Amazon took my bag while the second put a trench coat on me.I grunted as well. This bitch had to weigh 25 kg. That was some serious ballistic and blast protection. The closest newcomer began attaching my pistol with hip holster on my side while Brooke was 'buttoned up’. I was slipped a few spare clips then was buttoned up as well.“I’m not sure I can walk in this thing,” Brooke gave me a weak smile.“Don’t worry,” I smiled, “I’ll carry you.” I slipped my arm around Brooke’s waist and, on Velma’s signal, we rushed out to the middle of three Mercedes Armored GL550s. The doors had barely shut before we were racing away from my favorite home. I walked Brooke up to her apartment, we hugged, kissed and she insisted I go to the Hamptons with her this weekend.I left with that promise unanswered. I didn’t ask the Security Detail to do anything else outrageous and they didn’t give me any crap about Brooke. Their vigilance didn’t end at Havenstone either. No; they formed a tight knot of outward hostility until we marched into Katrina’s office. Even then, they spread out over the Executive Services offices as an extended perimeter.Katrina’s office was another step up on the unsettling meter. It was Katrina, Saint Marie, Buffy, Helena, and a woman I didn’t know yet seemed to belong.“Excuse me?” Saint Marie shot a hostile look my way; actually right behind me.“Don’t mind me,” Pamela snorted. She was in the process of sneaking into the room.“I’m here for moral support,” she concluded then took a seat.“Cáel?” Katrina queried, as if I could somehow exile Pamela from the room.“What’s going on?” I began the meeting instead.“Your Father is dead,” Katrina reported. If someone ever asked me what it felt like to have an arm cut off, I could truthfully answer them 'Yes’. Dad.“From what we have been able to gather from the video and audio gear the four Amazon Security Detail team assigned to watch over him transmitted, the team was setting up a perimeter when three vehicles with ten men stopped on the juncture of Janus and Kerr streets and approached the house. The team leader made formal recognition and was attacked,” Katrina told me.“Are they okay?” I mumbled. I didn’t want to know how my Dad died. Had he been in pain? Which side had killed him? Would knowing make a damn bit of difference?“Three of the four members were killed,” Saint Marie interjected. “The team commander was killed instantly. The second died defending that corner of your Father’s domicile.The third member was killed attempting to rescue your Father. The surviving member stopped the enemy from escaping with your Father’s body, but was too badly injured to extricate herself and is now in police custody.”“What are we going to do about this?” I inquired. Pamela was a lying bitch.She’d lied to Brianna because the truth would have gotten me and Dad killed. Dad had still died, but Pamela had kept me alive.“There is nothing we can do,” the stranger spoke up. “Troika of House Šauška.”“You are joking, right?” I stared at her.“He was a male, not of…” Troika began to state.“You do know your Amazon law, correct?” I countered. She gave a curt tilt of the head. “Recount the means of succession to the Head of a House then please explain to the room how my Father, the descendant of Vranus, fits into all that.”Cha-ching!“Oh, by the Seven Goddesses!” Saint Marie jumped up. “They murdered the Head of House Ishara!” Katrina was already back on top; ahead of the game.“But what does that make him?” Troika pointed at me.“It confirms him as the Head of House Ishara. We can sugar-coat it and say Cáel, being the only 'active’ member of Havenstone 'represented’ the Head of House Ishara. By our traditions though, Ferko Nyilas was the lawful head of a 'First’ House. Certainly four days were not enough time to settle the manner in an acceptable way,” Katrina said.“At the very least, House Ishara would have been given 28 days to resolve any matters of succession internally,” Katrina pointed out. “There was no deception. Cáel worked for Havenstone, so was our active member. The existence of his Father was known. It is in his basic file. It was highly unlikely that ANY House wanted to bring another male into the mix so the matter of his ascension was left unquestioned.”“This is Casus Belli,” Troika stood up and declared in a firm voice. “I will inform Hayden. We must know the perpetrators of this act, Katrina. I will prepare to relate this breach of the Protocols to the other Signatories.”“To make sure I have this straight, I can defend any member of my family, no matter who they are, without violating the Protocols?” I questioned. “Can I kill them?”“That is correct,” Troika appeared confused. “Other Signatories cannot harm, or detain your family in any way.” I gave a bitter, hollow laugh. Dad…Dad wouldn’t have understood, but Mom would have, no doubt.“Troika…hell, everyone but Pamela and Katrina, I am Cáel Nyilas, grandson of THE Cáel O'Shea and those people who murdered my Dad very well may have been my family,” I felt like crying.That was good because I was crying. I had talked to Dad early Monday morning. I had been so nervous about not leaving any trace of Mom behind that I couldn’t recall if I said 'I love you’ to him. I’d never get the chance to make up for that oversight. As I began to take in the faces around me, I realized Ishara had gifted me with a respite. No one else knew who Cáel O'Shea was; yet.“Troika,” I started out. I could tell she was still having difficulty with the 'Man as someone worthy of stating an opinion’ moment. “When the Council decides that the Illuminati have breached the Protocols, do I have a deciding vote on what we do; since Dad was my family?”“No,” Troika clarified, “and what makes you think it was the Illuminati?” Pamela laughed at her.“Because I killed Cáel’s Grandfather when that man was head of the Illuminati; slit his throat and rendered him incapable of resuscitation. The rest of that twisted clan have only now discovered that there is a successor, genetically, to the Old Man and you are looking at him,” Pamela related in an amused tone.“Perhaps; just perhaps; they were interested in what happened to Cáel’s Mother and the man she mated with to produce Cáel…who also happened to be the Head of House Ishara and now leaves this man (me) as the last of his kind; coming and going,” Pamela finished, “for both the Amazons and the O'Shea family/the Illuminati.”Troika was having problems fitting all the puzzle pieces. Saint Marie cut to the heart of the matter because she listens to me.“If you go to war against the O'Shea’s you are being forced to fight your own family,” the Golden Mare stared at me in shock.“Let me get this straight,” Troika stood up, waving for silence. “When the O'Shea’s killed Ferko Nyilas, they murdered the Head of a First House. They also murdered a member of their own family by way of marriage.” She seemed totally flummoxed. Everyone agreed about how fucked up everything was. Breach? No Breach?“Welcome to life working with Cáel Nyilas,” Katrina declared. There was a pause.“I’ll let the professionals figure out the finer points of diplomacy. I have to go,” I said.“Were do you think you are going?” Buffy popped up. Until this moment, she’d had no role in affairs. My safety though…“I am going home to bury my Father, Buffy,” I announced. This was not a discussion.“Shouldn’t we take his body to the cliffs?” Troika suggested.“My Father will face the Afterlife with my Mother at his side. It was his wish and I’m not going to start dictating to my Ancestors now,” I sighed.I was trying to make light of my pain. By the looks on their faces, I was failing. I had barely exited the office, Buffy, Helena and Pamela in tow. The security team was closing in and my phone rang.“Cáel Nyilas,” I answered sadly.“Mr. Nyilas, this is Investigator Brewster of the Burnham Police Department. I need a few moments of your time,” a man’s voice requested. I hesitated. I looked at my watch.“Yes…Dad?” I finally spoke.“Mr. Nyilas, your father seems to have been murdered late this evening in a bungled attempted burglary,” he lied. It was a good lie.If he really believed a bungled robbery consisted of two heavily armed groups shooting a small residential home to pieces he was…nah, he was lying.“I’m on the next flight to Chicago,” was the response I chose. I had so many 'loser’ replies to choose from.“That would be helpful, Mr. Nyilas,” he told me. “Do you know when I can expect you?”“Ah…I have no idea when the next plane from New York to Chicago is, but if I can buy a ticket on it, I’m there,” I countered. Admittedly, me having a plane ticket for home would have been damn suspicious.“One last thing, Mr. Nyilas, do you have any idea why someone would want to murder your father? Anything you could tell us could be of great assistance,” he pressed.“Yes, I have a clue who murdered my Father and I’ll point you to the dead bodies when I’m done,” I snapped; quite literally and mentally snapped. Pause.“Mr. Nyilas, I understand you are upset, but do not do anything rash. Now, could your father have been murdered for anything you might have done, or are doing?” Det. Brewster kept is game face on.“We’ll have this chat when I get to Chicago. Until then, take care,” I said before hanging up.“Smooth,” Pamela gently chastised me.“I actually liked him going all 'Mafia Don’ on that cop,” Buffy countered.“I’ll arrange for Havenstone to get us transportation to Chicago,” Helena added.“No,” I countermanded her. “You two stay here and finish up business. Join me late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning.”By the looks Buffy and Helena gave me they were surprised…and proud. I was keeping to my 'Runner’ induction time table. My family would not be diminished by this tragedy. It would grow. Come Wednesday morning, we would add twenty new voices to Ishara’s war cry.“I’ll take the first commercial flight available,” I continued.“We cannot protect you on a civilian aircraft, Ishara,” Velma warned me.“They; the authorities are expecting me to show up at O'Hare, so I’m showing up at O'Hare, like a normal person,” I reminded her. “I’ll also need to know at what hospital they are keeping our sister.” Our sister; the sole surviving Amazon who nearly gave her life for Dad.The SD picked up on that immediately. Another leap had been made. I wasn’t a masculine monster, raging against a female warrior who had failed. By the tone of my voice, they knew I was in grief yet not overcome by it. She was the last member of the Host to see my Father alive and she might hold the closure I needed.“It will be done,” Velma decided. “We will have your team meet you at O'Hare.”“My team?” I asked.“Rachel; her team,” Velma clarified. That was enough good for me.“Oh, and get Pamela a ticket as well. I’d hate to have her mug another passenger and take theirs,” I sighed. Pamela patted me on the back; an 'atta boy’.(Monday Noon)(The hospital)That was not the first time I wondered about how fatal Pamela had been in her prime. In fact, I wasn’t sure that post-60 wasn’t her best time yet. The only mistake the police officer guarding the Amazon’s hospital room made was to sit in a chair. Pamela had long ago mastered the peon-craft that Rosetta had started to teach me.The policeman looked up, stared right through her then looked the other way. His gaze never swept back in my direction. She jabbed him quickly underneath both arms, paralyzing them for a few seconds. That was all she needed. Hers hand clamped over his eyes and on his throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain before his hands could recover.He appeared to the outside world to have taken a nap. According to Pamela, we had roughly three minutes before he came around. Pamela kept walking down the hall as if nothing happened. I came ten steps behind, guarded by a gun-less Rachel as I entered the Intensive Care Unit. A few of the staff looked our way, but no one impeded our progress.According to the Duty Nurse, the Amazon had exited surgery barely an hour ago. Her eyes opened to slits as I approached her beside.“We stand before the Eye of the World,” I whispered. That meant surveillance. “I cannot tell you what is in my heart. My name is Cáel Nyilas. Does that name mean anything to you?”Her hand flopped. I put two fingers into her feeble gasp. One squeeze; yes. “I am grateful for your prowess and I share in your sorrow for those who will no longer fight in this life. Please heal and grow strong for this is the start, not the finish,” I completed. She squeezed my fingers once more. I stepped aside, letting Rachel take my place.They didn’t exchange words but communicated volumes. We slipped out of the room while the guard was still groggy. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. That proved to be pre-sentient when a group of people with the propensity to flash IDs caught up to me at the ground floor.Had the backdrop of this fiasco not been the death of my Father, I might have enjoyed the twitching/counter-twitching going on between Rachel, who desperately wanted any one of her guns, and the cops who were picking up on that desire.“Mr. Nyilas, I am…” and the introductions came pouring in.I had Theodora Chumwell and Brock Miklos, Special Agents of the FBI, John Rios, Special Agent with the ATF, Investigator Horace Brewster from the Burnham PD and Homicide Detective Lisa Capella from the Chicago PD.“We would like to talk with you,” Theodora took charge.“Can I ask a question first?” I raised my hand. That appeared to set them off their game plan.“Of course,” Theodora allowed.“Okay; FBI, ATF, a homicide detective from Chicago and the only law enforcement official who has any business being here,” I finished with Brewster.“I may not be a Rhodes Scholar, but this seems a bit extreme for the burglary/murder of a long-time employee of Illinois Power and Light. Does anyone care to fill me on what the hell is going on?” I looked over the group. “Oh, and thank you Investigator Brewster for your call. I know I didn’t take the news well.”“Was that the part where you said you would point to the dead bodies?” Theodora took charge.“Yes, I think that was the gaff I was referring to,” I agreed.“Why are you here, Mr. Nyilas?” Lisa Capella jumped in. She had decided to not go along with the FBI playbook.“I came to see the woman found alive in my family home,” I replied smoothly.“She is probably still in surgery,” Lisa gave a twist of the lips; sex.“Oh, she got out an hour ago,” I enlightened them.“Let’s take this conversation to FBI Headquarters,” Theodora 'suggested’; you know, in the way that really wasn’t a suggestion.“Have you gone to see that woman?” Lisa wouldn’t let up; good for her. It was upsetting Theodora and I’d already decided that Brewster was my go-to guy on this investigation.“Yes,” I responded to Lisa.“Isn’t she under police protection?” Lisa and Theodora blurted out together.“There was a policeman at her door,” I shrugged. “We went in and I talked to her.”“What did she say?” Theodora brushed Lisa aside.“Nothing. She had one of those tubes down her throat. Whatever I said…well, I was emotional,” I evaded. “She was barely conscious.”Lisa was urgently contacting her guy who was supposed to be watching the only person in custody they had. He claimed to have 'blacked out’. He couldn’t remember anyone coming in to see the woman and swore he hadn’t been unconscious for any length of time. He went in, checked up on the Amazon and she was fine; for someone who had been shot six times.“We should go to the FBI offices,” Theodora repeated.“I’m going home,” I sighed sadly. “I want to go home.”“It is still an active crime scene,” John told me. “There won’t be any civilian access for some time.” Translation: until they decided to give me the carrot instead of the stick.“Please, come with us,” FBI Special Agent Brock added his weight.“No. I’m going with Burnham PD,” I countered. “You can find me there.”“That’s not how it works,” Theodora upped her authority meter. Lisa had fallen back, trying to take in the bigger picture.Brewster was clearly trying to recall if he had ANY history with me, or my Dad, that would make me trust him over the others.“I may be a liberal arts major from northern New England, but I know how a larynx works,” I regarded Theodora. “Unless I choose to make a sound, it does nothing. Nothing is about to be all we have left to do and say.”“Don’t you want to help solve your Father’s murder?” Brock tried to sound both sympathetic and threatening at the same time. I was suddenly bombarded with the taste of Lime Sherbet and Jalapenos Ice Cream.“Really? Fine; I’m going to hang out with the only person in this room I know is working on my Father’s murder, not on their career,” I reposed.“We are all trying to…” Lisa got out.“You maybe,” I gave Lisa that much. “My Father made around $70,000 a year after twenty-six years for Illinois P&L. He had almost paid off the colossal debt built up by my Mother’s illness and my college expenses.”“As far as I know, he took out one loan his entire life; from a bank; and he paid it off,” I continued. “He was a lapsed Catholic, a member of the IBEW; Local 9, and he jogged. He barely used e-mail and had no close friends I am aware of. The only woman he loved was my Mother and he mourned her to the day he died.”“What about your activity?” Theodora inquired. We weren’t running off to her playground; yet. Handcuffing a grieving son would look bad and, by my attitude, wouldn’t make me talkative in the least.“I have the unfortunate habit of sleeping with every woman I meet,” I began.“So that’s over 200 erotic encounters. I get annoyed with people throwing their weight around,” I continued, “which is why you and I are getting off on the wrong foot, Special Agent Theodora Chumwell. I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments, getting paid an insane amount to fetch laundry and keep secrets. Good enough?”“No, it is not…” Theodora simmered.“How did you know about the existence of the woman upstairs and how did you know to come here?” Lisa interrupted.“I grew up in that house, know the neighbors and know this is the closest EMS center to home,” I lied convincingly.“Who are you?” Brewster decided that I wasn’t exiting the hospital gracefully so turned on Rachel. She didn’t speak, choosing to be creepy and brandishing a wallet instead. I kept forgetting that most full-blooded Amazons had minimal socialization with outsiders. Having graduated elementary school, everyone else knew this was a bizarre reaction.“Rachel Louis,” Brewster read off the license in the wallet. A normal person would have acknowledged that somehow; not Rachel. “You are Rachel Louis, aren’t you?”“Yes, she is,” I intervened. “Rachel is a co-worker at Havenstone and she is misanthropic misandrist.”There was a pregnant pause. The confusion wasn’t with 'misanthropic’. It was a grown-up word in usage with colorful police-types. It was 'misandrist’ that had them stumped.“Rachel is an unsociable man-hater,” I explained. “Standing at my side in this hospital is ten kinds of Hell for her.”“What kind of piece do you normal carry?” Rios asked her. Unsocial didn’t mean stupid.“I use a Glock-22 and Rachel carries a STI Perfect 10,” I answered. “We have been experiencing quite a gopher problem around the office.” I could have done better; I should have done better. I was just too tired inside to create an inventive lie.“Do have gun licenses for those weapons?” Mr. ATF kept prodding at our cover story.“It seems Ms. Louis; is it Ms. Ms. Louis?” Brewster continued. I flashed Rachel a look which she interpreted correctly.“Yes, my name is Ms. Rachel Louis,” Rachel replied. To me, “I find this distraction to be annoying. We should go.”“It would seem Ms. Louis has all kinds of…” Brewster got out before Rachel snatched the wallet from his grip with the speed of a Peregrine Falcon. Brewster had this stunned look familiar to crows, doves and starlings the world over as one of their kin passed into the next life in a flash. A combination of 'No you didn’t!’ with 'what the flock?’“Ah…” Brewster got out.“On that note, I think we will be going,” I shrugged. To Rachel, “You do not get out enough.”“Can I see your wallet again?” Brewster was still confused by Rachel’s rudeness. He was a cop for the love of God. People not wanting to go to jail do not snatch things from a cop’s hands.“I gave you my wallet. I am not to blame if you used its time in your possession unwisely,” Rachel counterattacked. “Unless there is a legal technicality, we shall be leaving. If there is a legal issue, here,” she produced a business card with a flourish, “is the contact information for our legal department.” Theodora took the card gingerly then read it.“Havenstone again,” she mused. “Are you sure this is the path you wish to take, Mr. Nyilas?”“Are you insane?” I trembled with emotion. “I want to be back in New York, working my queue and thinking about what my date and I will be doing tonight. I want my Dad to be alive. I don’t want to be thinking that the last time we talked I forgot to tell him I loved him.”“Path, you IDIOT!” I screamed at Theodora. Fuck it, I was crying again. “Not a damn thing any of you can do will bring my Dad back to me; so fuck off!” In a strange way, that was what they had been looking for. Not my wounded soul, but my rage and pain toward a World suddenly found to be cruel and pointless.Behind my crumbling façade was another worry. Outside in the parking lot were three Amazons with weapons ready to rush to my aid. It wasn’t that the Host was rash, or reckless, by nature. I was one of the fifty-six most important people in their society. Three other SD members had died in the defense of House Ishara already and they were damn sure those women would not have died in vain.I wasn’t leaving in federal custody willingly and if I walked out in restraints, I wasn’t sure if they would decide offing some law enforcement agents and staging my kidnapping was the best course of action. Remember, I wanted to bury my Father. They wanted to keep me alive. If those two goals collided, they would apologize after the fact.“Mr. Nyilas, I really believe we should…” Theodora got out then I brushed past her. It was a delicate moment and the chemistry between Rachel and I wasn’t lost on most of them. She was a bodyguard yet my servant too. It was professional tribalism; two words that don’t normally get along. Rios picked up on the other undercurrent.He recoiled from Rachel, retreating to buy space when/if Rachel attacked. Unlike the rest, he sensed that aggression by law enforcement would be met with lethal force. The Amazon didn’t care about the badge and the legions of fellow officers backing it up. She was fearless. Things weren’t over yet.“Mr. Nyilas, were are you going next?” Detective Lisa came after us.“I…I don’t know,” I muttered. “Where is my Father’s body? I know he wanted to be cremated and buried beside Mom…I guess.” Brewster came hurrying along.“He is at the Medical Examiner’s Office,” Lisa informed me. “Come with me.”“Why don’t you give me the address?” I sighed.“Do you and your buddy know your way around Chicago, Hometown Boy?” Lisa kept it up. She was hitting on me and lining me up at the same time.“How about we cut to the chase?” I looked at her with tear-soaked eyes.“We’ll take my cars; cars with an ’s’,” I offered. “I am a hometown boy. I’ve never had a reason to locate the Medical Examiner before. Since I have a boatload of angry women with guns who will not fit into your sedan and leaving them behind isn’t an option, mine is the only means of travel that makes sense.”Low and behold, the two cops looked at each other then followed Rachel and I to our little caravan. We were too close for the officers to have missed Rachel snapping off some quick, coded instructions to her team; most likely to hide the seriously illegal firearms. To say the Amazons were not pleased with my decisions spoke volumes to their concern for me and lack of police experience.Pamela, who had beaten us back to the cars, seemed privately entertained as always. Rachel was reluctantly sitting up front. Lisa, Brewster and I were in the second row and Pamela sat in back. Not only did the two not get a good look at Pamela, she was perfectly placed to do all kinds of mischief unseen.“So the woman upstairs works with you?” Lisa asked as we pulled out.“Where to?” Tiger Lily (I still wasn’t used to that name) requested of our Police 'buddies’. Lisa popped off the address. It was 'I’ll scratch your back, you’ll scratch mine’. Tiger Lily entered the data into the onboard computer and off we went.“No. She does not work for me, or my boss, directly. She was at my Father’s on my behalf though I was unaware of it,” I related.“Are you going to tell us what the hell happened?” Brewster prodded.“That I don’t know. I am not personally aware of anyone who would want to kill my Father, or me,” I answered.“Anyone who would want to get at me would come at me, not Dad,” I continued. “I don’t live in a fortress. It is a hardly spacious apartment near the East River. I share the place with my roommate, Timothy Denver, and a…companion by the name of Odette Sievert.”“Companion? Is she…a working girl?” Lisa went searching.“No, I use the term companion to indicate she’s too nice a girl for me. She’s sweet, conscientious and giving. My only wish for Odette is that she finds a guy who can appreciate her a hell of a lot more than I do,” I explained. “Timothy is my gay, body-building tattoo artist best friend. I’ve gotten the feeling he’s busted some heads in his time. Hardly anything noteworthy.”“Mr. Nyilas, have you ever considered that you live a very messy life?” Brewster pondered.“One does not 'consider’ what one knows to be true. One knows it to be true and moves on,” I grumbled. “Yes, I know I live a screwed up life.”“What about your friends here?” Lisa indicated the other three women in the vehicle. This elicited another groan from me.“Investigator Brewster; Horace and Detective Capella; Lisa, please call me Cáel. This is the point I accept that I am exhausted and not in any shape to make good decisions. I’ll plead the Fifth,” I confessed.“We already know you were in New York when your father was murdered, Mister…Cáel,” Brewster stated.“Everyone we’ve talked to says you and your father were very close. Barring some expensive Life Insurance policy being taken out on him, we have no reason to suspect you had a direct hand in his death. Not being a suspect, that implies you have no Fifth Amendment, or Miranda Rights to hide behind; just so we are clear,” Brewster schooled me.“I can make this game of footsy easy on all of you,” Pamela whispered. The officers jolted in their seats. “Cáel cannot talk to you for the very reason the Fifth Amendment exists.”“You are not like the rest of this menagerie,” Lisa noted.“Nah, I kill people for a living. The rest of the group has some code of conduct that keeps you two alive,” Pamela smiled.Those two didn’t know what to make of Pamela’s statement because it was so sincere yet incredible.“If Cáel tells you anything else he will be admitting to his involvement in a criminal conspiracy. Said conspiracy is why Ferko Nyilas is dead, but Cáel had nothing to do with it,” Pamela enlightened them.Fact digestion time for the two law dogs. Brewster recovered faster.“But why was Ferko Nyilas murdered?” he asked.“The men didn’t come to kill him,” Pamela kept talking about the tea and crumpets. “They probably showed up to escort him to a place where some far more important scumbags could talk with him.”“The all-girl squad was there and Ferko was caught in the crossfire,” Lisa mumbled. “Why was there a firefight if his life was in danger and both sides wanted him alive?”“Stupidity,” Pamela replied. “Give any group of people guns and then surprise them, stupid shit happens; I apologize Cáel.”“I don’t buy that,” Brewster said. “They simply started shooting at each other; no.”“Okay Horace, let me break it down for you. The ladies were told to go there and guard the guy without being told why. The men who showed up were most likely told to grab Ferko without knowing why either.”“That makes no sense,” Lisa protested.“Congratulations. That is why Cáel can’t talk to you anymore,” Pamela smirked. “This is the sort of crap he has inadvertently been caught up with; no fault of his own. If he did any of this on purpose, I’d kill him myself.”“He is some poor schmuck who only wanted a 7-5 job, to make tons of money and bedding a different girl every night,” Pamela teased me. “He’s no criminal mastermind, or even a convincing criminal. If he has a failing it is that he tends to merely beat up people who deserve to have their spleens ripped out instead. I’m training him to be smarter than that.”“Who are you?” Brewster gawked. Pamela gave a sinister smile. Lisa looked at me.“I’ve fought a woman with a twelve foot stick with a pointy bit of metal at the end with little thought to my personal safety. This lady (Pamela) scares me. She is with me because I have no means of stopping her and I put saving others a great deal of pain and suffering over my own unsettled nerves.”“Do you really think you are that good?” Lisa half-turned around to face Pamela.“Do you want your gun back?” Pamela offered up a police issue Glock-22, grip first. My kind of gun. How sad. I was too depressed to seduce Officer Lisa. Brewster reached around to check is firearm. It was still there, much to his relief.“How did you do that?” Lisa wondered as she retrieved and inspected her weapon. Pamela tapped Brewster’s shoulder with the man’s magazine. Brewster was aghast. She’d stolen his gun, taken out the ammo and returned it without him noticing.“I found it on the floor. The truth is a bit more expensive than you are willing to pay at the moment, believe me,” Pamela grinned.Why had Pamela showboated? She was buying me some mental respite. She was also exhibiting to the two police folks that there might be some truth to her outlandish tale of criminal conspiracies. Unlike the other Amazons, Pamela knew we had to maintain friendly relations with some part of law enforcement if I was going to bury my Father.(The Medical Examiner’s Office)So much happens in life we rarely put the timespan of events in context. Talking with a person in line who turns out to make your day better/worse, become a friend and/or a date. In a matter of a few seconds your life has been altered. Two minutes later and you would have missed getting the concert tickets where you meet your future; whomever.Two minutes sooner and you get caught in the 'speed trap’ instead of the other poor sap who you drive past as they sit on the side of the road keeping the patrol officer company. His/her insurance rate goes up while you have that extra money for later. Had we arrived two minutes earlier to the morgue; disaster aborted. Two minutes later would have equated to a frustrating mystery.Life was not so kind. It was the same group as before; Detective Lisa, Investigator Horace, Rachel and I. We had just added an Assistant Medical Examiner who was going over information garnered from the autopsy with the two cops. Pamela was 'checking things out’, whatever that meant. The key to it all was Rachel being Rachel.Security Detail are more than simply elite fighting-women. They are also bodyguards, security specialist and normally stack a third specialty into the mix. When Rachel spotted five armed people in the hallway right outside the Medical Examiner’s autopsy room, her alertness spiked. Only one was a uniformed police officer. Rachel was still gun-less.The two EMS personnel rolling an occupied body bag out on a gurney shouldn’t have had on their heavy jackets on a late June afternoon. The other two men were chatting about something. That wasn’t unusual. Where they were standing was; to Lisa’s experienced eye. Rachel’s heightened anxiety made Lisa double-check everything.Horace didn’t know what was wrong yet when Lisa’s hand came to rest on her piece, he put his hand on his Ruger SR45.“Excuse me,” Lisa called out. No one stopped moving. “Excuse me,” Lisa demanded in a louder voice. “I am Detective Lisa Capella, Chicago Police Department; Homicide Division. What is going on?”That was a reach. Bodies exit the morgue all the time. The two people with the body made sense. The two 'odd’ fellows weren’t breaking any law. In cop-talk, this was called 'gut instinct’. She produced her badge. There was a quick look by the two ambulance folk to the farther of the two 'talking’ men.That group were rather competent, just not competent conmen. The two EMS guys turned and tried to give Lisa a causal look.“What can we do for you, officer?” the designated diplomat asked nonchalantly.“Whose body is that?” Lisa inquired.“I’m not sure; all we do is pick 'em up and take them to the appropriate funeral home,” he shrugged.“Take ten seconds and show me the release order,” Lisa gave a chilly command. The cop at the far end of the hall; the one with the door that lead to the loading/unloading area, was starting to clue in that something wasn’t right.“Oh, by the Great Pumpkin, this is bad,” Brewster muttered under his breath like a thousand other fathers who engaged in the daily struggle to not curse at work so they wouldn’t curse around their children.“Of course, Detective Capella,” the diplomat nodded. “Is there a problem?” He carefully pulled out his smart phone and handed it over.Lisa wasn’t born yesterday. She handed the phone to me instead of looking at it herself. She was keeping her eyes on the guys with guns. They really did have an order to transfer my Father to a mortuary. Apparently I had requested this be done; without my knowledge.“Cáel Nyilas requested his father be taken to the Green Meadows mortuary in Cicero,” I informed Lisa, Rachel and Horace.“I need to talk to Mr. Nyilas,” Lisa informed them. “If I can’t talk to him, I can’t let the body leave this building. This is an ongoing investigation.” The 'diplomat’ was worried yet Lisa had given him an out. After I returned his phone, he called his off-site boss, who gave him a number which the diplomat gave to Lisa. Lisa called 'me’ without my phone ringing.Even so, 'I’ confirmed the authorization. The four gunmen relaxed as Lisa hung up.“One more question,” Lisa pulled a 'Columbo’, “was this a rush job, or are you all 'not ready for prime time players’?” The 'diplomat’ made one last lunge at deception.“Detective Capella, our work order is legitimate,” he shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what you mean?”“Funeral homes have their own uniforms; they do not dress as EMS,” Lisa deconstructed their illusions. “The bodies of murder victim are not released by the Medical Examiner until a cause of death is known and that information is released to the homicide detective assigned to the case; that would be me, if there was any doubt.Your two buddies down the hall could have read and critiqued the Magna Carta in the time it has taken for you to do your 'song and dance’,” Lisa pointed out. “Oh, and the real Cáel Nyilas is standing next to me. Whoever talked with me on the phone is going to jail too. Now I suggest the four of you face the wall, put your hands over your head, palms against the wall and no one will get hurt.”Darwin check time; they drew their guns. Of course they drew their guns. Why would they not draw their guns considering the farthest enemy was all of 4 meters away and the only immediately cover was my Dad’s horizontal corpse? Gurneys tend to be lightweight and mostly empty space.The quickest on the draw was one of the two 'talkers’. He whipped out a .357 Magnum revolver and popped two shots into the police officer next to him; right in the center mass at less than 2 meters; ouch. Rachel was next, making a diving front roll between the two cops, toward the two fake EMS guys. I was right behind her, except my plan was to vault Dad’s body and get at the second talker. I was not acting sanely.The second talker went in the next split second. He had brought a sawed-off automatic shotgun to the fight. His first salvo blew a chunk out of the wall next to Lisa’s hip. She was less than an eye-blink behind as she put two slugs into the 'diplomat’s’ armored chest. He was kind enough to drop his Mac-11 from his twitching fingers and into Rachel’s hands.Less than a single heartbeat later, the 'diplomat’s EMS buddy revealed his own Mac-11. His mistake was not shooting his first target; Brewster. He was tracking Rachel and me instead, hoping to catch us together in a spray of lead. The general feeling was that, for all his law enforcement experience, Investigator Brewster had never actually shot at anyone before.His cop instincts kicked into overdrive. The perpetrators appeared to be wearing body armor and possessed a small arsenal of illegal weapons. His aim tweaked up, he pulled the trigger and a .45 ACP round effectively decapitated his target; our first confirmed casualty. My encounter with the Latin Kings had been a lesson in poor tactical flexibility.This time, by unspoken agreement, the two talkers were exercising their tactical acumen as they began withdrawing toward the exit. With the short range, width of the hall and lack of cover, being shot at by a shotgun, or a .357 didn’t make much difference. I was trying to jump onto the gurney and launch myself at the two when my toe caught on the bottom of Dad’s body, turning my heroic rush into a face-plant on Father.The men’s cover fire worked on Lisa and Horace. Lisa, being more exposed, had to dive flat. Horace crouch-ran to Rachel. Rachel, with her submachine gun, was firing a steady stream of bullets from between the gurney’s top surface and bottom shelf. Her shots shattered shotgun guy’s shins and blasted off his knee caps.As that bastard screamed and toppled forward, Rachel emptied the magazine into both his thighs and his right hip. By the copious nature of the blood spray, an artery had been clipped, if not severed. Horace grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me off the gurney, down to his side. Lisa fired off a few shots at the vanishing leader, but he was already out the door.Rachel was rifling the closest EMS’s headless body, looking for a fresh clip for the M-11.“Don’t,” Horace cautioned her. Lisa was running to the door.“Rachel, leave the gun and follow me,” I commanded.“Wait,” Horace called out. He was in an impossible situation. The bold Assistant ME began looking for any survivors, starting with the diplomat.Detective Capella was chasing after a possible cop-killer. I was already running after Lisa and Horace couldn’t ride herd on Rachel, catch me and support Lisa all at once. Rachel muttered [OKH] 'dirty goat’ at my fleeting form. I was sure its true meaning was far nastier.“Da-darn it,” Horace grimaced as he started rushing after the three of us.I doubted it was any consolation to Horace that Lisa shot me an evil look when I caught up to her at the loading dock. T

Being known by the company you keep.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.Life exists in both seconds and years. Don’t ignore one for the other.I would like to thank the phone operator and Chief of the Burnham, Illinois Police Department for answering my questions, despite their bizarre nature.(Monday Night)I should have known to not have too good a time. My karma was wacky enough as it was. It was about to get worse in a way I should have foreseen. Ain’t hindsight grand?Inside of five seconds I knew how much sharing Libra and Brooke did; a lot. On the plus side, it gave me some wiggle room with Libra where sex with Brooke was concerned. On the super-plus side, Brooke was looking forward to ratcheting up our sex play. I took her to Libra’s experiences with all the extra bells and whistles.In this case it meant adding a blindfold and ball-gag to the hand restraints. Brooke handed me a high level of trust unexpected at this early moment in our sexcapade. With a quick empathic insight, I pulled her ball-gag down as her orgasm erupted. She rejoiced in the sound of her rapture echoing around my bedroom.I deceived her into her next climax by whispering a promise to release her then hammering her instead. The whole specter of powerlessness tore her up inside. Best of all, even as she spasmed beneath me, I released her cuffs then pulled up her mask. Her fingernails dug into my trapezius muscles. For over a minute, she clung to me with a deep hunger to feel my heat and sweat against her body.“My turn,” she rasped. I pressed my shoulders and head up so I could look into her eyes. She was waiting for this opportunity since she’d talked with Libra. Without question, she’d never been tied down before, or tied a man down and had her way with him. She’d manipulated men most of her life; that was old hat.This was primal, physical and forbidden. She was taking complete control of my person. God, I thought she’d orgasmed when she finished cuffing me to the headboard. Taunting, teasing and hot body contact followed as she put the ball-gag in. Sizzling lips sealed my fate as the blindfold was slipped in place.Having invested so much time using all my senses soaking up the hungry beast that Brooke possessed right beneath her urbane surface, losing my eyesight wasn’t a major drawback. For Brooke, this had all the benefits of anonymous sex in a blacked-out room with the bonus of her having the lights on for her use alone. My bet was she had studied stuff on-line.From being sure she wasn’t going to have sex with me when she first met, she had graduated to running naked across my living room for what turned out to be lemon slices. The ‘fumph’ of the Nerf gun made me assume Timothy shot her in the buttocks as she raced into my room. By the yip from Brooke, I knew Timothy’s aim remained frighteningly accurate.Lemon juice and cuts don’t mix, or, Brooke enjoyed watching my body jolt as said juice interacted with said 'workplace’ mistakes. Was I angry? Nah. Every hiss of pain was followed by lavished kisses, licks and hair lashings. I loved her long black hair draped over my body, flicked around whisk-like and tickling my nose.Brooke was learning my keystone technique; figure out what your partner wants and give them a quick sample. Don’t use any one thing too much; make it a treat and they’ll appreciate the taste they get even more. When Brooke finally sated us both, it was my turn again. We talked a while. She invited me to a friend’s place in the Hamptons which suggested to me the destination was more than some made-up place on TV.I promised to think about it. Brooke took that to mean she needed to work harder to convince me. I honestly had little desire to be trotted around as Brooke’s boy toy. Hoping that wouldn’t be the case relied a lot on faith. I wasn’t sure what I would have in common with any of that crowd, which guided me back to being a stuck up snob for treating a people as a social class and not as human beings.I took out my social anxiety on Brooke. Poor girl; three holes, ten positions and I’m not sure how many times I took her from frenzied peak to frenzied peak. All I knew was when she’d passed all points of previous primeval ecstasy, I finally released her. Brooke curled into a semi-fetal ball and began burrowing into me.“Happy?” I asked as I stroked her sweat-drenched hair. She nodded happily against my chest. “Are you glad you came over?” I continued. Brooke bit me because she knew I was teasing her. “Ow,” I grumbled. “I think we have a misunderstanding who is whose sex toy here.”“Do I need to bite you again?” Brooke mumbled into my chest.“Point taken,” I conceded. Brooke snuggled in even tighter. We wrestled out of bed, stumbled into the shower and took some time off with Timothy. He looked at us and smirked.“Cáel is going to be my boyfriend,” Brooke tossed out there. Huh?“What in God’s green earth makes you want to do that?” Timothy chuckled.“He’s been there when I needed him. Cáel is a real man and it has taken me having a really tough spill to realize that it doesn’t matter which alumni your Daddy belongs to, but what you put on the line for your friends that really matters,” Brooke enlightened us both.“Seriously Dude,” Timothy looked at me with pity.“Cut down on the awesome dicking until somehow polygamy becomes legal,” he added, but then, “Brooke, you know he’s seeing about a dozen different ladies, right?”“Cáel is looking for a serious relationship,” Brooke insisted. Timothy chortled because he knew the likelihood of me settling down was right up there with us sharing a White Christmas in the Bahamas.“Let’s go back to bed, Babe,” I redirected things to safer waters. “It is your turn to be on top.” Brooke, wearing one of my fresh t-shirts and nothing else, hopped off the sofa and let me lead her back to the bedroom for another round of 'not thinking about any other part of my fucked up life except the beautiful woman with me right now’ sex.Twenty minutes later, Brooke had encased my rod in her wanton elixirs, was gyrating her hips as she stroked my rod inside her vagina while keeping me bound, blind and muffled. My phone rang.“Should I get that?” Brooke teased me. She moved enough to seize my cellular device.“The number is unlisted,” she mused. “Who could it be?” I gave a muffled response. She removed the ball-gag enough for me to speak.“Work,” I repeated. “It might be work. I’m on-call 24/7.”“Damn,” Brooke undoubtedly pouted (still blindfolded). She answered the call then placed the phone to my ear.“Cáel, a Security Detail detachment is on their way to your quarters as we speak. You will recognized the code they will use,” Katrina’s icy calm voice informed me.“Katrina, what is wrong?” I inquired. Normally, I wouldn’t get an answer. Katrina’s tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.“There has been an incident at your Father’s home in Chicago. We do not have clear intelligence at this time. I may have more when you get in,” she related.“Understood,” I replied. My passionate storm abated and I felt empty inside. Dad.“Cáel?” Brooke sounded worried.“We need to get dressed,” I murmured. I had to let Timothy know something was truly wrong. I needed to get Brooke home safely. I…I needed to know more than I did right then. Brooke uncuffed me quickly. I barely had my boxers on when there was a light series of raps on the door. I sprang up, opened my bedroom door, surprising Odette.She must have come back to work a few minutes earlier and was unwinding with some low-volume TV and some sofa time. Timothy was asleep already.“Odette, go back to Timothy’s room and warn him something bad may have happened. Go!” I warned. Odette scampered back. Brooke was at my back, trying to move into the main room.“Brooke, stay here. If something unusual happens, hide in the bedroom and don’t come out until the police get here. Do you understand?” I met her confusion with an iron stare. She nodded. There was another, more insistent, rapping at my apartment door. I crept up to the portal and gave a counter-knock.“Crab Fisher-woman,” a female voice said from the other side.“My Father’s Sister,” I responded. It was an imperfect code, but effective given the circumstances. I double checked through the spy hole, unlocked the door and let three SD Amazons inside. How bad was it? I doubted these ladies would know more than I did.“[OKH] Ishara,” the leader said, “we have orders to escort you to Havenstone immediately.”They weren’t blindly expecting me to follow instructions. They had a directive they were following to the best of their ability.“[OKH] Will a team be watching my domicile?” I asked. The leader nodded. “We need to take a female I have been with tonight to her dwelling before going on to Havenstone.”The SD team leader nodded again. There was no condescension, or argument. They were following orders as if it was my right to issue them. That was how bad things were. Time to get back to English.“Brooke, finish getting dressed. I’m taking you home,” I called out.Quite frankly, along with my desire to see Brooke back home safely was my instinct to not split up my guardians. Better a longer trip than two smaller, more vulnerable groups. I was in the process of getting dressed in the living room when Timothy and Odette came out.“Bro?” Timothy asked.“My Father’s home was attacked. I have no other details right now,” I explained with a sinking feeling in my heart. Timothy read my soul, came up and engulfed me in his mighty arms. Odette added herself to the heart-felt love-pile.“Do you want me to take Odette and head back to Queens for a while?” Timothy asked.He sensed we had limited time.“They,” and by 'they’ he knew I meant Havenstone, “will have a team watching this place. There are not enough resources to go back and forth to work. I wish I could tell what would keep you safe, but I don’t know anymore.”“We’ll stay put,” Timothy declared. Odette nodded. “We’ll be here for you when you get back. If any of these psycho-broads want to stop by from time to time, I won’t say no.” I shot a look to the security team leader and she gave a curt 'okay’.“You’ll need an overnight bag!” Odette squeaked. Off she went.Brooke finished getting dressed and came to my side. To your average Lothario, what she did might seem odd. To me, it was the normal refrain; Brooke shoved her panties into my jean’s pocket. That was a not so subtle 'Call Me’ for when I got back.“Three minutes, Ish; Cáel,” the leader updated me.My amateur guess was this was the team from across the street. They had back-up vehicles and personnel streaking down from Havenstone to provide extra security for my move.“Velma,” she gave me her name. A quick description was in order. The three Amazons all had Bluetooth devices, shooting glasses and steel-gray long coats that had to be uncomfortable in this upper seventies evening heat.Underneath, they had on light ballistic body armor on their torsos, arms, and legs. Even their dull grey, all-terrain boots looked armored. They had a hip holstered sidearm, most likely a back-up pistol at the small of their backs and a deadly blade, or three. Their main deterrence was their H&K UMP-40; my second favorite Amazon killing device.Timothy snuck off to get my toiletries, returning around the same time Odette trundled out with an overnight (or three) bag. There was a final round of hugs then Velma indicated it was time to leave. The fourth member of the team was stationed at the top of the third floor stairs. That gave her a good view of my hallway as well as the passage going up and down.Two SD’s to the front, Velma and the fourth watching our backs and Brooke caught between giddy and freaking terrified. Things got even more exciting when we hit the bottom of the stairs. Two more ladies were waiting. They put a trench coat on Brooke and she nearly collapsed. The freed up Amazon took my bag while the second put a trench coat on me.I grunted as well. This bitch had to weigh 25 kg. That was some serious ballistic and blast protection. The closest newcomer began attaching my pistol with hip holster on my side while Brooke was 'buttoned up’. I was slipped a few spare clips then was buttoned up as well.“I’m not sure I can walk in this thing,” Brooke gave me a weak smile.“Don’t worry,” I smiled, “I’ll carry you.” I slipped my arm around Brooke’s waist and, on Velma’s signal, we rushed out to the middle of three Mercedes Armored GL550s. The doors had barely shut before we were racing away from my favorite home. I walked Brooke up to her apartment, we hugged, kissed and she insisted I go to the Hamptons with her this weekend.I left with that promise unanswered. I didn’t ask the Security Detail to do anything else outrageous and they didn’t give me any crap about Brooke. Their vigilance didn’t end at Havenstone either. No; they formed a tight knot of outward hostility until we marched into Katrina’s office. Even then, they spread out over the Executive Services offices as an extended perimeter.Katrina’s office was another step up on the unsettling meter. It was Katrina, Saint Marie, Buffy, Helena, and a woman I didn’t know yet seemed to belong.“Excuse me?” Saint Marie shot a hostile look my way; actually right behind me.“Don’t mind me,” Pamela snorted. She was in the process of sneaking into the room.“I’m here for moral support,” she concluded then took a seat.“Cáel?” Katrina queried, as if I could somehow exile Pamela from the room.“What’s going on?” I began the meeting instead.“Your Father is dead,” Katrina reported. If someone ever asked me what it felt like to have an arm cut off, I could truthfully answer them 'Yes’. Dad.“From what we have been able to gather from the video and audio gear the four Amazon Security Detail team assigned to watch over him transmitted, the team was setting up a perimeter when three vehicles with ten men stopped on the juncture of Janus and Kerr streets and approached the house. The team leader made formal recognition and was attacked,” Katrina told me.“Are they okay?” I mumbled. I didn’t want to know how my Dad died. Had he been in pain? Which side had killed him? Would knowing make a damn bit of difference?“Three of the four members were killed,” Saint Marie interjected. “The team commander was killed instantly. The second died defending that corner of your Father’s domicile.The third member was killed attempting to rescue your Father. The surviving member stopped the enemy from escaping with your Father’s body, but was too badly injured to extricate herself and is now in police custody.”“What are we going to do about this?” I inquired. Pamela was a lying bitch.She’d lied to Brianna because the truth would have gotten me and Dad killed. Dad had still died, but Pamela had kept me alive.“There is nothing we can do,” the stranger spoke up. “Troika of House Šauška.”“You are joking, right?” I stared at her.“He was a male, not of…” Troika began to state.“You do know your Amazon law, correct?” I countered. She gave a curt tilt of the head. “Recount the means of succession to the Head of a House then please explain to the room how my Father, the descendant of Vranus, fits into all that.”Cha-ching!“Oh, by the Seven Goddesses!” Saint Marie jumped up. “They murdered the Head of House Ishara!” Katrina was already back on top; ahead of the game.“But what does that make him?” Troika pointed at me.“It confirms him as the Head of House Ishara. We can sugar-coat it and say Cáel, being the only 'active’ member of Havenstone 'represented’ the Head of House Ishara. By our traditions though, Ferko Nyilas was the lawful head of a 'First’ House. Certainly four days were not enough time to settle the manner in an acceptable way,” Katrina said.“At the very least, House Ishara would have been given 28 days to resolve any matters of succession internally,” Katrina pointed out. “There was no deception. Cáel worked for Havenstone, so was our active member. The existence of his Father was known. It is in his basic file. It was highly unlikely that ANY House wanted to bring another male into the mix so the matter of his ascension was left unquestioned.”“This is Casus Belli,” Troika stood up and declared in a firm voice. “I will inform Hayden. We must know the perpetrators of this act, Katrina. I will prepare to relate this breach of the Protocols to the other Signatories.”“To make sure I have this straight, I can defend any member of my family, no matter who they are, without violating the Protocols?” I questioned. “Can I kill them?”“That is correct,” Troika appeared confused. “Other Signatories cannot harm, or detain your family in any way.” I gave a bitter, hollow laugh. Dad…Dad wouldn’t have understood, but Mom would have, no doubt.“Troika…hell, everyone but Pamela and Katrina, I am Cáel Nyilas, grandson of THE Cáel O'Shea and those people who murdered my Dad very well may have been my family,” I felt like crying.That was good because I was crying. I had talked to Dad early Monday morning. I had been so nervous about not leaving any trace of Mom behind that I couldn’t recall if I said 'I love you’ to him. I’d never get the chance to make up for that oversight. As I began to take in the faces around me, I realized Ishara had gifted me with a respite. No one else knew who Cáel O'Shea was; yet.“Troika,” I started out. I could tell she was still having difficulty with the 'Man as someone worthy of stating an opinion’ moment. “When the Council decides that the Illuminati have breached the Protocols, do I have a deciding vote on what we do; since Dad was my family?”“No,” Troika clarified, “and what makes you think it was the Illuminati?” Pamela laughed at her.“Because I killed Cáel’s Grandfather when that man was head of the Illuminati; slit his throat and rendered him incapable of resuscitation. The rest of that twisted clan have only now discovered that there is a successor, genetically, to the Old Man and you are looking at him,” Pamela related in an amused tone.“Perhaps; just perhaps; they were interested in what happened to Cáel’s Mother and the man she mated with to produce Cáel…who also happened to be the Head of House Ishara and now leaves this man (me) as the last of his kind; coming and going,” Pamela finished, “for both the Amazons and the O'Shea family/the Illuminati.”Troika was having problems fitting all the puzzle pieces. Saint Marie cut to the heart of the matter because she listens to me.“If you go to war against the O'Shea’s you are being forced to fight your own family,” the Golden Mare stared at me in shock.“Let me get this straight,” Troika stood up, waving for silence. “When the O'Shea’s killed Ferko Nyilas, they murdered the Head of a First House. They also murdered a member of their own family by way of marriage.” She seemed totally flummoxed. Everyone agreed about how fucked up everything was. Breach? No Breach?“Welcome to life working with Cáel Nyilas,” Katrina declared. There was a pause.“I’ll let the professionals figure out the finer points of diplomacy. I have to go,” I said.“Were do you think you are going?” Buffy popped up. Until this moment, she’d had no role in affairs. My safety though…“I am going home to bury my Father, Buffy,” I announced. This was not a discussion.“Shouldn’t we take his body to the cliffs?” Troika suggested.“My Father will face the Afterlife with my Mother at his side. It was his wish and I’m not going to start dictating to my Ancestors now,” I sighed.I was trying to make light of my pain. By the looks on their faces, I was failing. I had barely exited the office, Buffy, Helena and Pamela in tow. The security team was closing in and my phone rang.“Cáel Nyilas,” I answered sadly.“Mr. Nyilas, this is Investigator Brewster of the Burnham Police Department. I need a few moments of your time,” a man’s voice requested. I hesitated. I looked at my watch.“Yes…Dad?” I finally spoke.“Mr. Nyilas, your father seems to have been murdered late this evening in a bungled attempted burglary,” he lied. It was a good lie.If he really believed a bungled robbery consisted of two heavily armed groups shooting a small residential home to pieces he was…nah, he was lying.“I’m on the next flight to Chicago,” was the response I chose. I had so many 'loser’ replies to choose from.“That would be helpful, Mr. Nyilas,” he told me. “Do you know when I can expect you?”“Ah…I have no idea when the next plane from New York to Chicago is, but if I can buy a ticket on it, I’m there,” I countered. Admittedly, me having a plane ticket for home would have been damn suspicious.“One last thing, Mr. Nyilas, do you have any idea why someone would want to murder your father? Anything you could tell us could be of great assistance,” he pressed.“Yes, I have a clue who murdered my Father and I’ll point you to the dead bodies when I’m done,” I snapped; quite literally and mentally snapped. Pause.“Mr. Nyilas, I understand you are upset, but do not do anything rash. Now, could your father have been murdered for anything you might have done, or are doing?” Det. Brewster kept is game face on.“We’ll have this chat when I get to Chicago. Until then, take care,” I said before hanging up.“Smooth,” Pamela gently chastised me.“I actually liked him going all 'Mafia Don’ on that cop,” Buffy countered.“I’ll arrange for Havenstone to get us transportation to Chicago,” Helena added.“No,” I countermanded her. “You two stay here and finish up business. Join me late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning.”By the looks Buffy and Helena gave me they were surprised…and proud. I was keeping to my 'Runner’ induction time table. My family would not be diminished by this tragedy. It would grow. Come Wednesday morning, we would add twenty new voices to Ishara’s war cry.“I’ll take the first commercial flight available,” I continued.“We cannot protect you on a civilian aircraft, Ishara,” Velma warned me.“They; the authorities are expecting me to show up at O'Hare, so I’m showing up at O'Hare, like a normal person,” I reminded her. “I’ll also need to know at what hospital they are keeping our sister.” Our sister; the sole surviving Amazon who nearly gave her life for Dad.The SD picked up on that immediately. Another leap had been made. I wasn’t a masculine monster, raging against a female warrior who had failed. By the tone of my voice, they knew I was in grief yet not overcome by it. She was the last member of the Host to see my Father alive and she might hold the closure I needed.“It will be done,” Velma decided. “We will have your team meet you at O'Hare.”“My team?” I asked.“Rachel; her team,” Velma clarified. That was enough good for me.“Oh, and get Pamela a ticket as well. I’d hate to have her mug another passenger and take theirs,” I sighed. Pamela patted me on the back; an 'atta boy’.(Monday Noon)(The hospital)That was not the first time I wondered about how fatal Pamela had been in her prime. In fact, I wasn’t sure that post-60 wasn’t her best time yet. The only mistake the police officer guarding the Amazon’s hospital room made was to sit in a chair. Pamela had long ago mastered the peon-craft that Rosetta had started to teach me.The policeman looked up, stared right through her then looked the other way. His gaze never swept back in my direction. She jabbed him quickly underneath both arms, paralyzing them for a few seconds. That was all she needed. Hers hand clamped over his eyes and on his throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain before his hands could recover.He appeared to the outside world to have taken a nap. According to Pamela, we had roughly three minutes before he came around. Pamela kept walking down the hall as if nothing happened. I came ten steps behind, guarded by a gun-less Rachel as I entered the Intensive Care Unit. A few of the staff looked our way, but no one impeded our progress.According to the Duty Nurse, the Amazon had exited surgery barely an hour ago. Her eyes opened to slits as I approached her beside.“We stand before the Eye of the World,” I whispered. That meant surveillance. “I cannot tell you what is in my heart. My name is Cáel Nyilas. Does that name mean anything to you?”Her hand flopped. I put two fingers into her feeble gasp. One squeeze; yes. “I am grateful for your prowess and I share in your sorrow for those who will no longer fight in this life. Please heal and grow strong for this is the start, not the finish,” I completed. She squeezed my fingers once more. I stepped aside, letting Rachel take my place.They didn’t exchange words but communicated volumes. We slipped out of the room while the guard was still groggy. Pamela was nowhere to be seen. That proved to be pre-sentient when a group of people with the propensity to flash IDs caught up to me at the ground floor.Had the backdrop of this fiasco not been the death of my Father, I might have enjoyed the twitching/counter-twitching going on between Rachel, who desperately wanted any one of her guns, and the cops who were picking up on that desire.“Mr. Nyilas, I am…” and the introductions came pouring in.I had Theodora Chumwell and Brock Miklos, Special Agents of the FBI, John Rios, Special Agent with the ATF, Investigator Horace Brewster from the Burnham PD and Homicide Detective Lisa Capella from the Chicago PD.“We would like to talk with you,” Theodora took charge.“Can I ask a question first?” I raised my hand. That appeared to set them off their game plan.“Of course,” Theodora allowed.“Okay; FBI, ATF, a homicide detective from Chicago and the only law enforcement official who has any business being here,” I finished with Brewster.“I may not be a Rhodes Scholar, but this seems a bit extreme for the burglary/murder of a long-time employee of Illinois Power and Light. Does anyone care to fill me on what the hell is going on?” I looked over the group. “Oh, and thank you Investigator Brewster for your call. I know I didn’t take the news well.”“Was that the part where you said you would point to the dead bodies?” Theodora took charge.“Yes, I think that was the gaff I was referring to,” I agreed.“Why are you here, Mr. Nyilas?” Lisa Capella jumped in. She had decided to not go along with the FBI playbook.“I came to see the woman found alive in my family home,” I replied smoothly.“She is probably still in surgery,” Lisa gave a twist of the lips; sex.“Oh, she got out an hour ago,” I enlightened them.“Let’s take this conversation to FBI Headquarters,” Theodora 'suggested’; you know, in the way that really wasn’t a suggestion.“Have you gone to see that woman?” Lisa wouldn’t let up; good for her. It was upsetting Theodora and I’d already decided that Brewster was my go-to guy on this investigation.“Yes,” I responded to Lisa.“Isn’t she under police protection?” Lisa and Theodora blurted out together.“There was a policeman at her door,” I shrugged. “We went in and I talked to her.”“What did she say?” Theodora brushed Lisa aside.“Nothing. She had one of those tubes down her throat. Whatever I said…well, I was emotional,” I evaded. “She was barely conscious.”Lisa was urgently contacting her guy who was supposed to be watching the only person in custody they had. He claimed to have 'blacked out’. He couldn’t remember anyone coming in to see the woman and swore he hadn’t been unconscious for any length of time. He went in, checked up on the Amazon and she was fine; for someone who had been shot six times.“We should go to the FBI offices,” Theodora repeated.“I’m going home,” I sighed sadly. “I want to go home.”“It is still an active crime scene,” John told me. “There won’t be any civilian access for some time.” Translation: until they decided to give me the carrot instead of the stick.“Please, come with us,” FBI Special Agent Brock added his weight.“No. I’m going with Burnham PD,” I countered. “You can find me there.”“That’s not how it works,” Theodora upped her authority meter. Lisa had fallen back, trying to take in the bigger picture.Brewster was clearly trying to recall if he had ANY history with me, or my Dad, that would make me trust him over the others.“I may be a liberal arts major from northern New England, but I know how a larynx works,” I regarded Theodora. “Unless I choose to make a sound, it does nothing. Nothing is about to be all we have left to do and say.”“Don’t you want to help solve your Father’s murder?” Brock tried to sound both sympathetic and threatening at the same time. I was suddenly bombarded with the taste of Lime Sherbet and Jalapenos Ice Cream.“Really? Fine; I’m going to hang out with the only person in this room I know is working on my Father’s murder, not on their career,” I reposed.“We are all trying to…” Lisa got out.“You maybe,” I gave Lisa that much. “My Father made around $70,000 a year after twenty-six years for Illinois P&L. He had almost paid off the colossal debt built up by my Mother’s illness and my college expenses.”“As far as I know, he took out one loan his entire life; from a bank; and he paid it off,” I continued. “He was a lapsed Catholic, a member of the IBEW; Local 9, and he jogged. He barely used e-mail and had no close friends I am aware of. The only woman he loved was my Mother and he mourned her to the day he died.”“What about your activity?” Theodora inquired. We weren’t running off to her playground; yet. Handcuffing a grieving son would look bad and, by my attitude, wouldn’t make me talkative in the least.“I have the unfortunate habit of sleeping with every woman I meet,” I began.“So that’s over 200 erotic encounters. I get annoyed with people throwing their weight around,” I continued, “which is why you and I are getting off on the wrong foot, Special Agent Theodora Chumwell. I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments, getting paid an insane amount to fetch laundry and keep secrets. Good enough?”“No, it is not…” Theodora simmered.“How did you know about the existence of the woman upstairs and how did you know to come here?” Lisa interrupted.“I grew up in that house, know the neighbors and know this is the closest EMS center to home,” I lied convincingly.“Who are you?” Brewster decided that I wasn’t exiting the hospital gracefully so turned on Rachel. She didn’t speak, choosing to be creepy and brandishing a wallet instead. I kept forgetting that most full-blooded Amazons had minimal socialization with outsiders. Having graduated elementary school, everyone else knew this was a bizarre reaction.“Rachel Louis,” Brewster read off the license in the wallet. A normal person would have acknowledged that somehow; not Rachel. “You are Rachel Louis, aren’t you?”“Yes, she is,” I intervened. “Rachel is a co-worker at Havenstone and she is misanthropic misandrist.”There was a pregnant pause. The confusion wasn’t with 'misanthropic’. It was a grown-up word in usage with colorful police-types. It was 'misandrist’ that had them stumped.“Rachel is an unsociable man-hater,” I explained. “Standing at my side in this hospital is ten kinds of Hell for her.”“What kind of piece do you normal carry?” Rios asked her. Unsocial didn’t mean stupid.“I use a Glock-22 and Rachel carries a STI Perfect 10,” I answered. “We have been experiencing quite a gopher problem around the office.” I could have done better; I should have done better. I was just too tired inside to create an inventive lie.“Do have gun licenses for those weapons?” Mr. ATF kept prodding at our cover story.“It seems Ms. Louis; is it Ms. Ms. Louis?” Brewster continued. I flashed Rachel a look which she interpreted correctly.“Yes, my name is Ms. Rachel Louis,” Rachel replied. To me, “I find this distraction to be annoying. We should go.”“It would seem Ms. Louis has all kinds of…” Brewster got out before Rachel snatched the wallet from his grip with the speed of a Peregrine Falcon. Brewster had this stunned look familiar to crows, doves and starlings the world over as one of their kin passed into the next life in a flash. A combination of 'No you didn’t!’ with 'what the flock?’“Ah…” Brewster got out.“On that note, I think we will be going,” I shrugged. To Rachel, “You do not get out enough.”“Can I see your wallet again?” Brewster was still confused by Rachel’s rudeness. He was a cop for the love of God. People not wanting to go to jail do not snatch things from a cop’s hands.“I gave you my wallet. I am not to blame if you used its time in your possession unwisely,” Rachel counterattacked. “Unless there is a legal technicality, we shall be leaving. If there is a legal issue, here,” she produced a business card with a flourish, “is the contact information for our legal department.” Theodora took the card gingerly then read it.“Havenstone again,” she mused. “Are you sure this is the path you wish to take, Mr. Nyilas?”“Are you insane?” I trembled with emotion. “I want to be back in New York, working my queue and thinking about what my date and I will be doing tonight. I want my Dad to be alive. I don’t want to be thinking that the last time we talked I forgot to tell him I loved him.”“Path, you IDIOT!” I screamed at Theodora. Fuck it, I was crying again. “Not a damn thing any of you can do will bring my Dad back to me; so fuck off!” In a strange way, that was what they had been looking for. Not my wounded soul, but my rage and pain toward a World suddenly found to be cruel and pointless.Behind my crumbling façade was another worry. Outside in the parking lot were three Amazons with weapons ready to rush to my aid. It wasn’t that the Host was rash, or reckless, by nature. I was one of the fifty-six most important people in their society. Three other SD members had died in the defense of House Ishara already and they were damn sure those women would not have died in vain.I wasn’t leaving in federal custody willingly and if I walked out in restraints, I wasn’t sure if they would decide offing some law enforcement agents and staging my kidnapping was the best course of action. Remember, I wanted to bury my Father. They wanted to keep me alive. If those two goals collided, they would apologize after the fact.“Mr. Nyilas, I really believe we should…” Theodora got out then I brushed past her. It was a delicate moment and the chemistry between Rachel and I wasn’t lost on most of them. She was a bodyguard yet my servant too. It was professional tribalism; two words that don’t normally get along. Rios picked up on the other undercurrent.He recoiled from Rachel, retreating to buy space when/if Rachel attacked. Unlike the rest, he sensed that aggression by law enforcement would be met with lethal force. The Amazon didn’t care about the badge and the legions of fellow officers backing it up. She was fearless. Things weren’t over yet.“Mr. Nyilas, were are you going next?” Detective Lisa came after us.“I…I don’t know,” I muttered. “Where is my Father’s body? I know he wanted to be cremated and buried beside Mom…I guess.” Brewster came hurrying along.“He is at the Medical Examiner’s Office,” Lisa informed me. “Come with me.”“Why don’t you give me the address?” I sighed.“Do you and your buddy know your way around Chicago, Hometown Boy?” Lisa kept it up. She was hitting on me and lining me up at the same time.“How about we cut to the chase?” I looked at her with tear-soaked eyes.“We’ll take my cars; cars with an ’s’,” I offered. “I am a hometown boy. I’ve never had a reason to locate the Medical Examiner before. Since I have a boatload of angry women with guns who will not fit into your sedan and leaving them behind isn’t an option, mine is the only means of travel that makes sense.”Low and behold, the two cops looked at each other then followed Rachel and I to our little caravan. We were too close for the officers to have missed Rachel snapping off some quick, coded instructions to her team; most likely to hide the seriously illegal firearms. To say the Amazons were not pleased with my decisions spoke volumes to their concern for me and lack of police experience.Pamela, who had beaten us back to the cars, seemed privately entertained as always. Rachel was reluctantly sitting up front. Lisa, Brewster and I were in the second row and Pamela sat in back. Not only did the two not get a good look at Pamela, she was perfectly placed to do all kinds of mischief unseen.“So the woman upstairs works with you?” Lisa asked as we pulled out.“Where to?” Tiger Lily (I still wasn’t used to that name) requested of our Police 'buddies’. Lisa popped off the address. It was 'I’ll scratch your back, you’ll scratch mine’. Tiger Lily entered the data into the onboard computer and off we went.“No. She does not work for me, or my boss, directly. She was at my Father’s on my behalf though I was unaware of it,” I related.“Are you going to tell us what the hell happened?” Brewster prodded.“That I don’t know. I am not personally aware of anyone who would want to kill my Father, or me,” I answered.“Anyone who would want to get at me would come at me, not Dad,” I continued. “I don’t live in a fortress. It is a hardly spacious apartment near the East River. I share the place with my roommate, Timothy Denver, and a…companion by the name of Odette Sievert.”“Companion? Is she…a working girl?” Lisa went searching.“No, I use the term companion to indicate she’s too nice a girl for me. She’s sweet, conscientious and giving. My only wish for Odette is that she finds a guy who can appreciate her a hell of a lot more than I do,” I explained. “Timothy is my gay, body-building tattoo artist best friend. I’ve gotten the feeling he’s busted some heads in his time. Hardly anything noteworthy.”“Mr. Nyilas, have you ever considered that you live a very messy life?” Brewster pondered.“One does not 'consider’ what one knows to be true. One knows it to be true and moves on,” I grumbled. “Yes, I know I live a screwed up life.”“What about your friends here?” Lisa indicated the other three women in the vehicle. This elicited another groan from me.“Investigator Brewster; Horace and Detective Capella; Lisa, please call me Cáel. This is the point I accept that I am exhausted and not in any shape to make good decisions. I’ll plead the Fifth,” I confessed.“We already know you were in New York when your father was murdered, Mister…Cáel,” Brewster stated.“Everyone we’ve talked to says you and your father were very close. Barring some expensive Life Insurance policy being taken out on him, we have no reason to suspect you had a direct hand in his death. Not being a suspect, that implies you have no Fifth Amendment, or Miranda Rights to hide behind; just so we are clear,” Brewster schooled me.“I can make this game of footsy easy on all of you,” Pamela whispered. The officers jolted in their seats. “Cáel cannot talk to you for the very reason the Fifth Amendment exists.”“You are not like the rest of this menagerie,” Lisa noted.“Nah, I kill people for a living. The rest of the group has some code of conduct that keeps you two alive,” Pamela smiled.Those two didn’t know what to make of Pamela’s statement because it was so sincere yet incredible.“If Cáel tells you anything else he will be admitting to his involvement in a criminal conspiracy. Said conspiracy is why Ferko Nyilas is dead, but Cáel had nothing to do with it,” Pamela enlightened them.Fact digestion time for the two law dogs. Brewster recovered faster.“But why was Ferko Nyilas murdered?” he asked.“The men didn’t come to kill him,” Pamela kept talking about the tea and crumpets. “They probably showed up to escort him to a place where some far more important scumbags could talk with him.”“The all-girl squad was there and Ferko was caught in the crossfire,” Lisa mumbled. “Why was there a firefight if his life was in danger and both sides wanted him alive?”“Stupidity,” Pamela replied. “Give any group of people guns and then surprise them, stupid shit happens; I apologize Cáel.”“I don’t buy that,” Brewster said. “They simply started shooting at each other; no.”“Okay Horace, let me break it down for you. The ladies were told to go there and guard the guy without being told why. The men who showed up were most likely told to grab Ferko without knowing why either.”“That makes no sense,” Lisa protested.“Congratulations. That is why Cáel can’t talk to you anymore,” Pamela smirked. “This is the sort of crap he has inadvertently been caught up with; no fault of his own. If he did any of this on purpose, I’d kill him myself.”“He is some poor schmuck who only wanted a 7-5 job, to make tons of money and bedding a different girl every night,” Pamela teased me. “He’s no criminal mastermind, or even a convincing criminal. If he has a failing it is that he tends to merely beat up people who deserve to have their spleens ripped out instead. I’m training him to be smarter than that.”“Who are you?” Brewster gawked. Pamela gave a sinister smile. Lisa looked at me.“I’ve fought a woman with a twelve foot stick with a pointy bit of metal at the end with little thought to my personal safety. This lady (Pamela) scares me. She is with me because I have no means of stopping her and I put saving others a great deal of pain and suffering over my own unsettled nerves.”“Do you really think you are that good?” Lisa half-turned around to face Pamela.“Do you want your gun back?” Pamela offered up a police issue Glock-22, grip first. My kind of gun. How sad. I was too depressed to seduce Officer Lisa. Brewster reached around to check is firearm. It was still there, much to his relief.“How did you do that?” Lisa wondered as she retrieved and inspected her weapon. Pamela tapped Brewster’s shoulder with the man’s magazine. Brewster was aghast. She’d stolen his gun, taken out the ammo and returned it without him noticing.“I found it on the floor. The truth is a bit more expensive than you are willing to pay at the moment, believe me,” Pamela grinned.Why had Pamela showboated? She was buying me some mental respite. She was also exhibiting to the two police folks that there might be some truth to her outlandish tale of criminal conspiracies. Unlike the other Amazons, Pamela knew we had to maintain friendly relations with some part of law enforcement if I was going to bury my Father.(The Medical Examiner’s Office)So much happens in life we rarely put the timespan of events in context. Talking with a person in line who turns out to make your day better/worse, become a friend and/or a date. In a matter of a few seconds your life has been altered. Two minutes later and you would have missed getting the concert tickets where you meet your future; whomever.Two minutes sooner and you get caught in the 'speed trap’ instead of the other poor sap who you drive past as they sit on the side of the road keeping the patrol officer company. His/her insurance rate goes up while you have that extra money for later. Had we arrived two minutes earlier to the morgue; disaster aborted. Two minutes later would have equated to a frustrating mystery.Life was not so kind. It was the same group as before; Detective Lisa, Investigator Horace, Rachel and I. We had just added an Assistant Medical Examiner who was going over information garnered from the autopsy with the two cops. Pamela was 'checking things out’, whatever that meant. The key to it all was Rachel being Rachel.Security Detail are more than simply elite fighting-women. They are also bodyguards, security specialist and normally stack a third specialty into the mix. When Rachel spotted five armed people in the hallway right outside the Medical Examiner’s autopsy room, her alertness spiked. Only one was a uniformed police officer. Rachel was still gun-less.The two EMS personnel rolling an occupied body bag out on a gurney shouldn’t have had on their heavy jackets on a late June afternoon. The other two men were chatting about something. That wasn’t unusual. Where they were standing was; to Lisa’s experienced eye. Rachel’s heightened anxiety made Lisa double-check everything.Horace didn’t know what was wrong yet when Lisa’s hand came to rest on her piece, he put his hand on his Ruger SR45.“Excuse me,” Lisa called out. No one stopped moving. “Excuse me,” Lisa demanded in a louder voice. “I am Detective Lisa Capella, Chicago Police Department; Homicide Division. What is going on?”That was a reach. Bodies exit the morgue all the time. The two people with the body made sense. The two 'odd’ fellows weren’t breaking any law. In cop-talk, this was called 'gut instinct’. She produced her badge. There was a quick look by the two ambulance folk to the farther of the two 'talking’ men.That group were rather competent, just not competent conmen. The two EMS guys turned and tried to give Lisa a causal look.“What can we do for you, officer?” the designated diplomat asked nonchalantly.“Whose body is that?” Lisa inquired.“I’m not sure; all we do is pick 'em up and take them to the appropriate funeral home,” he shrugged.“Take ten seconds and show me the release order,” Lisa gave a chilly command. The cop at the far end of the hall; the one with the door that lead to the loading/unloading area, was starting to clue in that something wasn’t right.“Oh, by the Great Pumpkin, this is bad,” Brewster muttered under his breath like a thousand other fathers who engaged in the daily struggle to not curse at work so they wouldn’t curse around their children.“Of course, Detective Capella,” the diplomat nodded. “Is there a problem?” He carefully pulled out his smart phone and handed it over.Lisa wasn’t born yesterday. She handed the phone to me instead of looking at it herself. She was keeping her eyes on the guys with guns. They really did have an order to transfer my Father to a mortuary. Apparently I had requested this be done; without my knowledge.“Cáel Nyilas requested his father be taken to the Green Meadows mortuary in Cicero,” I informed Lisa, Rachel and Horace.“I need to talk to Mr. Nyilas,” Lisa informed them. “If I can’t talk to him, I can’t let the body leave this building. This is an ongoing investigation.” The 'diplomat’ was worried yet Lisa had given him an out. After I returned his phone, he called his off-site boss, who gave him a number which the diplomat gave to Lisa. Lisa called 'me’ without my phone ringing.Even so, 'I’ confirmed the authorization. The four gunmen relaxed as Lisa hung up.“One more question,” Lisa pulled a 'Columbo’, “was this a rush job, or are you all 'not ready for prime time players’?” The 'diplomat’ made one last lunge at deception.“Detective Capella, our work order is legitimate,” he shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what you mean?”“Funeral homes have their own uniforms; they do not dress as EMS,” Lisa deconstructed their illusions. “The bodies of murder victim are not released by the Medical Examiner until a cause of death is known and that information is released to the homicide detective assigned to the case; that would be me, if there was any doubt.Your two buddies down the hall could have read and critiqued the Magna Carta in the time it has taken for you to do your 'song and dance’,” Lisa pointed out. “Oh, and the real Cáel Nyilas is standing next to me. Whoever talked with me on the phone is going to jail too. Now I suggest the four of you face the wall, put your hands over your head, palms against the wall and no one will get hurt.”Darwin check time; they drew their guns. Of course they drew their guns. Why would they not draw their guns considering the farthest enemy was all of 4 meters away and the only immediately cover was my Dad’s horizontal corpse? Gurneys tend to be lightweight and mostly empty space.The quickest on the draw was one of the two 'talkers’. He whipped out a .357 Magnum revolver and popped two shots into the police officer next to him; right in the center mass at less than 2 meters; ouch. Rachel was next, making a diving front roll between the two cops, toward the two fake EMS guys. I was right behind her, except my plan was to vault Dad’s body and get at the second talker. I was not acting sanely.The second talker went in the next split second. He had brought a sawed-off automatic shotgun to the fight. His first salvo blew a chunk out of the wall next to Lisa’s hip. She was less than an eye-blink behind as she put two slugs into the 'diplomat’s’ armored chest. He was kind enough to drop his Mac-11 from his twitching fingers and into Rachel’s hands.Less than a single heartbeat later, the 'diplomat’s EMS buddy revealed his own Mac-11. His mistake was not shooting his first target; Brewster. He was tracking Rachel and me instead, hoping to catch us together in a spray of lead. The general feeling was that, for all his law enforcement experience, Investigator Brewster had never actually shot at anyone before.His cop instincts kicked into overdrive. The perpetrators appeared to be wearing body armor and possessed a small arsenal of illegal weapons. His aim tweaked up, he pulled the trigger and a .45 ACP round effectively decapitated his target; our first confirmed casualty. My encounter with the Latin Kings had been a lesson in poor tactical flexibility.This time, by unspoken agreement, the two talkers were exercising their tactical acumen as they began withdrawing toward the exit. With the short range, width of the hall and lack of cover, being shot at by a shotgun, or a .357 didn’t make much difference. I was trying to jump onto the gurney and launch myself at the two when my toe caught on the bottom of Dad’s body, turning my heroic rush into a face-plant on Father.The men’s cover fire worked on Lisa and Horace. Lisa, being more exposed, had to dive flat. Horace crouch-ran to Rachel. Rachel, with her submachine gun, was firing a steady stream of bullets from between the gurney’s top surface and bottom shelf. Her shots shattered shotgun guy’s shins and blasted off his knee caps.As that bastard screamed and toppled forward, Rachel emptied the magazine into both his thighs and his right hip. By the copious nature of the blood spray, an artery had been clipped, if not severed. Horace grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me off the gurney, down to his side. Lisa fired off a few shots at the vanishing leader, but he was already out the door.Rachel was rifling the closest EMS’s headless body, looking for a fresh clip for the M-11.“Don’t,” Horace cautioned her. Lisa was running to the door.“Rachel, leave the gun and follow me,” I commanded.“Wait,” Horace called out. He was in an impossible situation. The bold Assistant ME began looking for any survivors, starting with the diplomat.Detective Capella was chasing after a possible cop-killer. I was already running after Lisa and Horace couldn’t ride herd on Rachel, catch me and support Lisa all at once. Rachel muttered [OKH] 'dirty goat’ at my fleeting form. I was sure its true meaning was far nastier.“Da-darn it,” Horace grimaced as he started rushing after the three of us.I doubted it was any consolation to Horace that Lisa shot me an evil look when I caught up to her at the loading dock. T

As Chicago's skyline continues to evolve, what new developments will shape its future? In this episode you will learn:  1) How the Burnham Plan of 1909 continues to shape Chicago's skyline and development today  2) The potential impacts of the One Central and Woodlawn Central developments on Chicago's social, economic, and cultural landscape  3) How Equity Works is aimed at addressing the shortcomings of traditional affirmative action programs in order to provide more opportunities for residents of Chicago's south and west sides.  This is Bob Dunn, Karen Wilson, Dr. Byron T. Brazier's story...Bob Dunn, Karen Wilson, and Dr. Byron T. Brazier are all working on projects that will change the face of Chicago. One Central is a large project that will create a major transit hub and generate almost 300,000 new boardings a day. It will also unify the civic and cultural district, and drive transformative impact to neighborhoods that need it the most. The Woodline project is a catalyst project based on the Woodland 2060 Plan that will redevelop all of the properties in the community. The Urban League will provide training and support to ensure that residents can take advantage of the job opportunities that will be created by these projects.  Show some love by leaving a review on Apple Podcasts and rate on Spotify. Chapter Summaries: [00:00:00] - Hermene Hartman Hartman with N'DIGO Studio is going to talk about the changing face of Chicago and those who are changing it. The Burnham plan was a blueprint for the city of Chicago developed by Daniel Burnham and Edward Bennett in 1909. Dr. Byron Brazier, Bob Dunn, and Karen Wilson are going to discuss their plans for the development of Chicago today. [00:01:13] - Bob Dunn has a project called One Central. Karen Wilson from Chicago Urban League is also on the show. Today they talk about the changing face of Chicago and how it will change for the better.  [00:01:51] - Bob is talking about the one central project around Soldiers Field. 35 acres. It's a $4 billion civic asset which includes the transit, the infrastructure, the amenities and a vertical phase of development that will include office, residential, retail, dining, entertainment, hospitality, and healthcare. It will generate nearly 70000 permanent jobs on site. [00:04:44] - Dr. Byron Brazier is building on his father's legacy in the Woodlawn community. The project is a catalyst project based on the Woodlawn 2060 Plan. There will be a promenade, a hotel, a business center, a vertical farming, a fine arts center and a senior facility. [00:07:22] - Karen is at the Chicago Urban League. Karen has been the mayor of Gary, Indiana and a judge and a graduate of Harvard. Karen is excited about the plans for the Woodlawn Central and Bob's project. Karen and Dr. Brazier want the Urban League to bring the jobs that will be created by the projects to life. The Urban League has to provide the training and small businesses who will work on these projects by providing the businesses. [00:10:52] - Bob has created a new affirmative action called Equity Works. Equity Works is a partnership with the Urban League, the BLC and the Illinois Hispanic Chamber. The civic build is about a three and a half year construction project. The vertical development is a ten to 15 year project. Bob has done a lot of sports development in his career. He built the other three stadiums in the North Division. [00:17:20] - N'DIGO Studio is talking about some developments that are going to change the face of Chicago. The impact is on the surface, you see the city looks different, but the real impact is social impact, cultural impact, economic impact, job impact, tax impact, etc. Dr. Brazier's job is to make sure the developments keep people in mind. [00:19:14] - Dr. Brazier is planning to build a multi-million dollar development on the same timeline as one central. Dr. Brazier was born in the midsection of Chicago near the lake, and grew up in different parts of the city. He believes that development should focus on education, safety and cultural development. [00:24:37] - Bob Dunn has a project to create 78000 new construction jobs and 68000 permanent jobs in Chicago. He needs to create an alignment for the residents to get the jobs and to get training and education. Hermene Hartman is an educator, and she is talking on the changing face of Chicago. Connect with me: Instagram: iamhermenehartmanFacebook: hermenehartmanYouTube: ndigostudioLoved this episode? Leave us a review and rating here: {LINK}

Daniel Burnham is one of the most accomplished American Architects of all time.  In addition to numerous buildings of note still standing today, he was also the driving force behind the 1892 Chicago World's Fair.  He made grand plans and set out to accomplish them, piece by painful piece.  His thoughts on how and why we make plans are the topic of today's episode.

Anna Davlantes, WGN Radio's investigative correspondent, joined Bob Sirott to share what happened this week in Chicago history. Stories include Prince Charles’ visit, the debut of The Wieners Circle, and the invention of the remote control.

Welcome to episode 49 of The Great Deception Podcast where I had the honor of sitting down with Casey from GoldenGate StarFort Command. This is the first of multiple dives I will be doing with Casey as we attempt Death to False History, one of my favorite conversations so far. We discussed Casey's trip to the UK and the 'old' architecture he came across over there. Then we get into California, specifically San Francisco, and breaking down the narrative behind it. From the architecture to the land, it just does not add up. 1850s Gold Rush to 1894 MidWinter Exposition to 1906 'Earthquake/fire' to 1915 Panama Pacific Exposition (which we will dive into deeper next episode). We look at Daniel Burnham's 'Plan for San Francisco', HH Bancroft, and so much more. Please leave a review & share the show! Also go support Casey's great work: Find Caseys (@goldengate_starfort_command) work at: IG: https://www.instagram.com/goldengate_starfort_command/ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCMZKWcl23RC0VoBZ3OduuoQ/featured Mat from The Great Deception Podcast Linktree: https://linktr.ee/thegreatdeceptionpodcast IG: https://www.instagram.com/thegreatdeceptionpodcast/ YouTube: https://youtube.com/user/Barons44 Email: thegreatdeceptionpodcast@gmail.com To Make Contributions: Venmo: https://account.venmo.com/u/Matthew-Terrillion Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/thegreatdeceptionpodcast Merch Store: https://my-store-cb4b4e.creator-spring.com --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/the-great-deception-podcast/support