See ya at nine." "Eight thirty, Cliff. Be there on time." Cliff Bradley, PI, had three main passions in life, jazz, booze, and women, but it was women...that he couldn't resist the most. Cliff was a serial womanizer. He had spent most of the day sleeping it off trying to sober up from the hangover he cultivated the night before. He felt almost human as he rode the 'L' home that afternoon. He browsed Walter Winchell's column on the train looking for the latest gossip on the Chicago mob. Winchell. “Couldn’t you have done this without all the messy fighting? It looks like the beginning of a civil war,” Athea criticized.“Of course I could have, but then Chaos would not like it half as much,” Kassja replied and offered a smile.A tall man in a grand uniform passed the throne. He wildly swung a huge sword with a wide curved blade. A very loud crack and the chest of his uniform was cut in two, exposing a gashing wound in his skin. The man screamed and another crack left a similar wound. More

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