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I feel like the PT boat captain that got General MacArthur out of the Philippines in World War II."After we discussed our situation, we decided we needed to sleep on our problems. Amanda snuck out of the sitting room to take a shower while Sheila and I cleaned up our mess and pushed the room service cart into the hall. She sat down on the sofa and motioned for me to join her."We're going to have a lot of people with us on this trip? Do you feel we have enough room? Do you want me to leave?" Unless you are uncomfortable with us, I would like for you to stay. If we are up against the people we think we are, I'm going to need all the trained help we can get. Besides, lady, you are defiantly easy on the eyes, and I have been called a dirty old man before." Yanks. They're all the same. I owe it to Sally to stay at least long enough to get you domesticated. I've got two months to make it happen. If I find the work too hard, I can always go back." I hope you don't feel the need to do that. And then there was the voice. ‘She knows what you are Michael, she will kill you and everyone on this plane if you don’t stop her.’ Michael was slipping into shock, too much too fast, tunnel vision, clammy palms, falling fast, and then she was there, with him, holding his soul in her…wait, the oriental woman. Black eyes, black hair, olive skin, two rows back and to his right, alright focus, no one in the seat next to her, one carry on between her legs, focusing on the plane, the starboard engine, no fear, no soul only…pure malevolence. ‘Eliminate her Michael, focus on her, look deep inside, find the pulsing light, extinguish it.’ The voice in his head was gone as quickly as it had come, only seconds had passed. Closing his eyes he focused, he was picturing the top of her head, the black aura around her was like winter storm clouds roiling and rolling, controlled fury. He passed though the clouds, looking for something to lead the way, there it was, between her heart and her stomach,.
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