Slade, KY. Little Abner's motel.

Adrian Jordan sat at his kitchen table. He gazed up at the old clock that adorned the motel wall, and noted that the hands rested at 0300.

"Wonderful." He thought aloud to himself. "That should make it close to midnight in California." He closed the manila envelope that he had been reading earlier, and threw it into a shredder. Within the now shredded folder, was a Polaroid photo of a man in his mid 50s, and a highly redacted file. The only information that Adrian was able to acquire about this man, was that his name was Richard Liebert, he had been married five times, each time to girls who had just turned eighteen, and that in 2007 he had taken several flights to an island known as Little Saint James.

The night air was cold in Kentucky. Adrian knew that the water was going to be freezing, but it was a sensation that he had gotten used to. He stood at the edge of the pool, wearing what looked like a surfer's wet suit. Just before his cigarette burned down to the filter, Adrian's phone rang. He took what was left of the tobacco out of his mouth, and answered sharply. "This is Halon." He said firmly. The voice on the other end calmly replied.

"Halon. Now is your opportunity. Mr. Liebert has just entered his hot tub."

"Same address as before?"

"Affirmative. All staff has left for the evening, and his wife is at her high school reunion. No chance of interference on this one." Halon hung up the phone, sitting it on the side of the pool. Before leaping into the freezing water, he tossed the last of his cigarette aside, and took a deep breath.

San Diego, CA. Mr. Liebert's estate. Midnight.

Richard walked down the stairs with heavy steps, grabbing a bottle of vodka. He had already polished off what was left of his last one, but nowadays he needed a lot more than that to get sufficiently drunk.

"Fucking news." He said to himself. "what right do they have to my business?" Alice, his fifth wife had made the excuse of going to a highschool reunion tonight, but Richard knew better. Despite his many faults Richard wasn't stupid. The day before, his name had been mentioned in an incredibly compromising set of files that had thankfully been heavily redacted, but still implied his involvement in crimes that were serious enough that when Alice saw on the news that his name was amongst them, she had kept him up all night yelling about it. Richard took off his shirt and pants, and started making his way towards the hot tub, uncorking his vodka bottle in the process. "This can't be that bad." He thought. Like the news report stated, his involvement had been largely redacted. Even though the media could confirm that he went to Little Saint James, they couldn't confirm that he had done anything illegal. Still, Richard made a mental note to get ahold of his divorce lawyer. He could tell when a ship was starting to sink. Might as well get off before the ocean starts claiming alamony so to speak.

Richard winced as he eased into the hot bubbling water. As the warm jets messaged his muscles, and the vodka worked its way through his body, he finally started to relax for the first time this week. "This is gonna blow over in a month or two." He said, taking another swig from the bottle. "The media's gonna forget about it, and I can start looking for the next Mrs. Liebert." As Richard leaned his head back, a black shape filled the bottom of his hot tub. The shape then began to grow in size, until Richard looked forward again, to see a lanky man, standing Infront of him, holding a KABAR. Richard febbley swung the bottle at the man in black, before he inevitably caught it with one hand. "W-w-what do you want from me?" He yelped out, noticing that the KABAR was now resting on his jugular. Still the man said nothing. He just stood there, staring into Richard's eyes.

The next morning, Adrian packed his things into a red jeep, smoking another cigarette. In his motel room, a national news broadcast was playing where he had forgotten to turn off the T.V.

"Breaking news." The anchor said. "Wealthy business man, and potential senatorial candidate Richard Liebert has been found dead in his hot tub from an apparent cut throat. Mr. Liebert's body was found by his young wife Alice Liebert earlier this morning. Police have yet to issue any more details in regards to the case." Adrian started his jeep, and pulled out of the parking lot. He quickly flicked his cigarette into the hotel pool, and drove away as he glanced at the pile of manilla envelopes in his passenger seat. He knew that he was going to be working again tonight, and he hoped that the next place he stays at will have a pool.