As well known as Bill Gates, as charismatic as Steve Jobs, Pierre Troubleaux was regarded as a sexy, rich and eligible bachelor ready for the taking. Stephanie Perkins was more stirred by his appearance and bearing than his words, so she joined Miles in rapt attention to watch his orations on live television. When the first shot rang out their stunned confusion echoed the camera's erratic framing. As the second shot came across the TV, Perky sprang up and shouted, "No!" Tears dripped from the cor- ners of her eyes. "Miles! What's happening? They're shooting him . . ." "I don't know ." A third shot and then the image of Scott and Pierre crumbling. "Holy shit, it's an assassination!" "Miles, what's going on here?" Stephanie cried. "This is fucking nuts . . .he's killing him . . ." Miles stared at the screen and spoke in a dull monotone. "I can't believe this is happening, it's not part of the plan . . ." "Miles, Miles!" She screamed, desperately trying to get his attention. "Who? Miles! Who's killing him? What plan?" "Fucking Homosoto, that yellow skinned prick . . ." "Homosoto?" She stopped upon hearing the name. Miles leapt up from the couch and raced over to the corner of the room with his computers. He pounced on the keyboard of the NipCom computer and told it to dial Homosoto's number in Japan. That son of a bitch better be there. Answer, damn it. <<<<<<AUTOCRYPT CONVERSATION>>>>>> Homosoto!!!!! The delay seemed interminable as Miles waited for him to get on line. Perky followed him over to the computer and watched as he made contact. She knew that Miles and Homosoto spoke often over the computer, too often for Miles' taste. Homosoto whined to Miles almost every day, about one thing or another, and Miles complained to her about how irritating his childish interference was. But throughout it all, Perky had never been privy to their conversations. She had stayed her distance, until this time. Miles had been in rages before; she had become unwillingly accus- tomed to his furious outbursts. Generally they were unfocused eruptions; a sophomoric way of releasing pent up energy and frus- tration. But this time, Miles' face clearly showed fear. Steph- anie saw the dread. "Miles! What does Homosoto have to do with this? Miles, please!" She pleaded with him to include her. The screen finally responded. MR. FOSTER. AN UNEXPECTED PLEASURE. You imperial mother fucker. EXPLAINATION, PLEASE. You're a fucking murderer. I TAKE EXCEPTION TO THAT. Take exception to this, Jack! What the hell did you kill him for? I ASSUME YOU HAVE BEEN WATCHING TELEVISION. Aren't we the Einstein of Sushi land. YOUR MANNERS. You killed him! Why? Stephanie read the monitor and wept quietly as the conversation scrolled before her. She placed her hands on Miles' shoulders in an effort to feel less alone.