Jason Alexander took his time driving up the driveway to Broadmoor Mansion. He had seen the aerial view of the grounds, of course but assessing topography from the ground is much different than looking at things from the air. He noted one guard with a submachine gun stationed under a tree. He knew of at least 8 more agents positioned in the copses and by the walls. The Manse was indeed well protected. Along with its single occupant. Lady Celeste Madrigal.

Celestial music. Not an apt name for one of the most unprepossessing teenagers Jason had ever seen. Her dossier was extensive. It included pictures. This young lady dressed in the most appalling fashion. She looks like an old lady Jase thought to himself. Dressed as she was in a long brown dress with a white cardigan sweater. Her head was completely covered by scarf and hat. Brown Argyle socks, as the most clunkily unattractive shoes Jason had ever seen. Black glasses that were darkened as much as thick as Coke bottles. Her overly full lips were set in the childish pout.

Jase's handsome, broad jawed face mirrored his distaste.