It is Saturday, so the only person at the office is the janitor, making repairs to the window blinds.

"Good Morning", I say, entering my office, closing and locking the door behind me. I open my private room and place a small blue suitcase on the counter. I take an auburn colored wig from the mannequin. I place the hair on my head, letting the long soft curls fall over my shoulders as I smile in the mirror. I then place the wig into a plastic bag inside the suitcase. I take down a brown suit jacket with matching short skirt, several blouses, and two pair of high-heeled shoes, my silk panties and padded bras. Packed and ready, I close the case and returns to the car, having the driver take me to the airport.

I am dropped off at the main gate where I enter the line for the terminal. My ticket is complete and I place the two suitcases and my briefcase on the conveyor, handing the attendant my keys before passing through the detector.

"Step over here, Sir", the attendant asks, pointing to a separate table where my bags are placed. "Taking anything illegal?" He asks.

"No, Sir, just my clothes, my wife's outfits and some electronic equipment. " The guard opens the suitcase and examines the contents. He then opens the brief case and spends time looking at the circuit boards and Compact Discs. "Just software and hardware for work. I'm installing server clusters in Los Angeles."

"That's fine", the attendant replies, opening the second suit case and checking the feminine contents. He looks at me, puzzling, as I neatly replace the items.

"My wife is joining me next week and I'm taking this ahead so that she doesn't have too much baggage. You know how women are?"

The guard smiles as I close the bag. "I sure do. My wife can take more for a day than I take for a week. Have a pleasant flight, Sir." I gather my three bags and heads for the gate, stopping to get a double cappuccino as the Starbucks cart.

The flight is on time and I board, having reserved an aisle seat in first class.

"Would you like a drink of Champagne, while we are waiting to depart, Sir?" the stewardess says when I finishes placing my suitcases in the overhead rack and my briefcase under my seat.

"Orange juice would be fine. I have a cappuccino."

"Yes, Sir, right away." The attendant brings the juice and I settle back with the New Yorker.

"Rudy", a man says, stopping in the aisle and holding his hand out.

"Yes?" I answer, questioning.

"You remember me? Bob, we worked on the strangler case in New York. I'm the graphics guy that did the paste-ups of the suspect we finally apprehended. Are you still doing the computer tracking simulation's for NYPD?"

"I remember now, we worked about three years ago. Yeah, still doing the same stuff, only now much more. I'm on the way to LA to set up a server system for the Internet Investigative Group there. "

"I'm going to give a seminar at Parker Center on computer manipulation of photographic images. Amazing what people can do with photographs today. It's almost like there is nothing real anymore."

"Come on guy, you're holding up the line", someone says.

"I'll talk to you later. I'm flying coach, you know how it is. I never got past the cheap seat line."

"Sure, Bob", I say, returning to my magazine.

The 747 takes off as I am pressed into my seat, holding my juice and reading. As the plane levels the captain turns off the seat belt notice and Bob returns.

"Can I sit with you for a few minutes", He asks and I offer him the empty seat next to me.

"Sir, this is for First Class passengers only", the stewardess says. Bob pulls out his wallet and flashes a gold badge.

"This is police business", He says, taking a seat.

"Could I bring you a drink, Sir?"

"Coffee, black would be fine. So tell me, Rudy, what takes you to LA?"

"They think they have a lead on the serial killer who targets law enforcement. There are six, maybe more, cases of missing officers who had been killed while working on Internet Porn."

"I read about him. A marksman who pops the cops in the head?"

"That's the guy"

"Are these killings all in Los Angeles?"

"No, only one, but the cops think that they are on to another."

"Brutal son-of-a-bitch."

"Not brutal, clean!", I answer, finishing my orange juice. "Not much to go on, I must say."

"How long you going to be in LA?", Bob asks, sipping his coffee.

"Until I get the cluster installed and tested. It will go into the command center and give the agency the ability to track multiple user locations, or as they call them, predators."

"Sounds high-tech!"

"Very ... the latest in sophistication. They will be able to tell where a person is exactly. Pinpoint the location within a couple of feet. Simply put, the location is tracked on the Global Positioning System and the end user's IP is targeted. If the user tries to use shadow locations or jump URL's, the cluster isn't fooled."

"Too much for me", Bob says, getting up from his seat. "All I can manage is photo manipulation investigation. I'll leave the fancy shit to you."

"Thanks, see you in LA." I lean back, closing my eyes as Bob goes back to coach.

The plane lands shortly after noon at LAX, arriving on time. I collect my carry-on bags and deplane, looking for the people meeting me at the airport. I stand for a short while before a large man approaches.

"Rudolph Jenkens?" the man asks.

"Yes, I am he."

"I'm Detective Smythe, Bill Smythe, but you can just call me Bill if you wish."

"And you can call me Rudy", I answer

"So, you're going to move us into the high-tech world of the Internet, Rudy?"

"I'm gonna try, Bill. I have the equipment. If I can teach you to use it we'll be in high gear. "

"I'm pretty good with what we have. I should be able to learn and we have some sharp computer people in the department."

"I'm sure you'll be a pro in a few days. I'm staying through the week and will get you familiar with the systems."

"We were thinking you would send a staff person. We get the CEO?"

"On the first go around I like to be present. This is a big deal for us. Los Angeles is a plumb. I send staff to Hoboken", I say laughing as we leave the airport.

"You'll be staying at the Bonaventure Hotel, which is near the bureau. We thought that would be convenient. Can I help you with your bags?"

"Sure, thanks", I answer handing the Bill the suitcase with my male clothing. A police car is waiting at the curb and we get into the back seat and are chauffeured downtown. Arriving at the central station I am given a short tour of the existing facility. There are four persons at the computers, viewing ten monitors as they search chat rooms. The system is old, slow and really useless, I think as I look around.

"This will be your home for the next few days. Those boxes are your equipment", Bill says, pointing at several large shipping crates in the corner.

"Good, but I'd like to go to my hotel and freshen up a little. Afterwards, I'd like to have dinner or a drink. Please, join me if you can, Bill.

Bill confirms that his shift ends at six and he would meet me at Dano's Restaurant, where after-hours police usually hang out.

We agree on seven as a good time so Bill gives me a lift to my hotel.