He was probably in his later thirties. He was six feet tall with thinning brown hair. Beth, on the other hand, was a slim woman with ample breast, and...obviously still in her twenties. “Welcome to the party. I’m Steve and this is my wife Beth.” “Hi, I’m Jim and this is Pat.” My father said as he pulled out his wife’s chair. “Are you regulars here at the club?” Pat asked. “Yes, we built a cabin here a couple of years ago. We spend a lot of weekends here and plan to retire here when that time. Just like you can not take my advice about the lotto, or the keno numbers. The one thing I really don't want you to refuse is to take out the terrorists." As soon as we have enough info to do something. Any more intel on that?" I forget what I've told you so far. My memory - or more rightly the memory you've loaned me - isn't that good. What I know is: it's gonna happen in Florida, Memorial Day weekend, and we need a rifle - a real good one - for reaching out to touch some bad guys at. More

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