A N.I.C.E. Boy, Part 4

Vatican Halts Payments to Pedophile Victims

The Catholic Star, May 27th, 2004

At today's press conference at the Vatican, newly appointed Pope Geraldo,

announced that the Church is unable to continue to fund the Victim's Support

Fund, which was set up only last year to provide payments to the victims of

pedophile priests. During the last year more than $US 5.7 billion has been paid

out as out-of-court settlements to victims in North America alone. It is

believed that a further $3.9 billion has been set aside for court-mandated

damages where plaintiffs have obtained verdicts in their favor. As allegations

against pedophile priests continue to come forth on a daily basis, both of these

numbers are expected to increase dramatically. At last count more than 1,000

priests have been identified in law suits claiming pedophilia.

Beginning last year, the Catholic Church engaged a public relations/marketing

firm to initiate a nationwide effort to strengthen the support of its followers

and identify ways to raise funds to meet its obligations. During 2003-4 the

Church raised an additional $980 million for the Victim's Support Fund, far

short of the goal of $10 billion. It is this shortfall that necessitated last

week's meeting of the Cardinals in Rome and today's Papal announcement. Speaking

on behalf of the North American Cardinals, Cardinal Joseph Boyd said that the

Catholic Church will investigate other ways of obtaining the funds. One of the

ways that is being looked at is the sale of its secular properties in the U.S.,

including apartment buildings and retail operations. "We have also given some

thought to selling what might be termed, Catholic Bonds," Boyd said in an

interview with our reporter on assignment in Rome. "These would be available for

purchase directly from each Diocese, thereby avoiding the middleman expenses if

we sold the bonds through a broker. The interest on the bonds would be paid by

using special collection boxes located in every church."

Chapter 4. La Bergerie Restaurant, Washington DC, July 12th, 2004

They met in a private room that was far too large for four people. Vice

President James Hackman arrived first, but only with a few minutes to spare. He

was always running late and he had intended to be there with plenty of time to

spare. He placed his coat over the back of the chair closest to the window. Then

turning, he opened the curtains as far as they would go. The window opened onto

a busy street. He watched the cars passing for a few minutes before he heard

someone enter the room. He turned.

"Martin Eckleston, right?" Hackman asked.

He had only spoken to Eckleston on the telephone. However, Eckleston had been on

TV talk-shows often enough to be easily recognized. The man was unforgettable.

He looked a little reminiscent of a hippy from the 1960s with long, bedraggled

hair, a wispy beard and long sideburns, but it was a carefully cultivated front.

He billed himself as a predator-hunter and the image he dad cultivated was that

of a frontiersman, wild, crafty, dangerous. All he lacked were the boots, the

coonskin cap, and a buffalo-hide jacket to complete the picture. Hackman

suppressed a smile.

"That's me, Mr. Vice President. And it's a pleasure to meet you, Sir. I've

always had the greatest admiration for you and President Denton. Your

administration stands for everything that's great about this country."

Not surprisingly, it sounded insincere.

"I'm glad you made it before the rest," Hackman replied.

Eckleston nodded wearily and plodded across the room, casually wiping his

forehead with a handkerchief. He was portly, and the stale sweaty odor of

obesity followed him. They shook hands, completing the formality of

introduction. Although neither of them needed liquor, Hackman guided the other

man across to the bar and asked him what he wanted to drink. Old habits were

hard to break.

As soon as both drinks were made, he glanced quickly at his watch. There was not

a lot of time left. The other members of the tribunal would arrive within a few

minutes.

"Martin? You don't min' me callin' you that? I need ta' speak to you `lone,"

Hackman said with exaggerated sugariness. It still sounded like a reprimand.

"Sorry, I'm late. I stopped to use the can," Eckleston replied vacuously.

Bourbon on the rocks was his favorite drink. He took a long drink and licked his

lips. "It's been a busy day. I needed something to drink."

"Martin, I been givin' this a lot `a thought," Hackman began. "Wha' we talked

`bout on tha' phone, this Act we're gonna pass nex' week, `ll get rid of the

pedophiles fer good. But we need tha' right per'sun ta' run tha' show. It's

gonna take balls. Someone who don't back off tha' issue. Not `fraid ta' bend

some rules." He looked directly at Eckleston. "You come ta mind `cause you don't

take no shit! You hate tha' fuckers like I do. So I figure maybe you tha' man to

do it."

"That's me," Eckleston acknowledged with a grin.

"Good, `cause likely you gonna be tha' head. `Tween us, gettin' rid `a tha'

pedos ain't all tha's needed. I ain't restin' until all them fags go tha' same

way. We're goin' ta' run `em outta town. If they `ven look at some kid, they's

jailed fer life."

"You and me both, brother," Eckleston smirked merrily. "No more goddamn

ass-fuckers."

He held out his hand, high-five, but there was no response forthcoming from the

Vice President despite his reputation for hand-shaking and back-slapping. He

finished by rubbing his nose.

"As tha' boss, there's some good bucks," Hackman continued. Talking about money

always got people's attention. He paused, waiting until he had Eckleston's

undivided interest. "Real good money if we get results," he added with emphasis.

"And?"

There had to be a catch and Eckleston was interested to find out what it was. It

was too good to be true. A government-funded plan to eliminate pedophiles once

and for all made a lot of sense. It was more than he had ever hoped for.

However, there were many people who were equally qualified to manage it.

"Holly wan's me ta clear up somethin' fust." Hackman hesitated. This was by the

far the riskiest part. The wrong thing said could destroy the operation. "It's

con-fa-den-shal," he said in a low voice that sounded ridiculous in the large

empty room.

"I'll do whatever's needed. And I promise not a word will get out, Mr. Vice

President. You can trust me implicitly."

At that, Hackman smiled. He had chosen appropriately. "Good. Holly wants ta get

rid of a fucker by tha' name `a Lane. Some kinda doctor."

Eckleston thought for a moment. " Lane. Congressman from Indiana or Illinois or

somewhere?"

"Tha's tha' dude. Hick-town boy. Int'lectual type, so he carries on like some

Cal'forna faggot. Holly say's he'll screw NICE if he can. She's right. He don't

like tha' kin' a' thin'. 'e's got a thin' 'bout civil lib'ties! We don' want `im

ta get tha' chance. Tha' fucker's `ad one shit too many fer now."

"What can you tell me about him?"

Hackman hesitated. He had to be very careful how much he revealed, even to

Eckleston. There was a chance, albeit remote, that Eckleston was truly well

intentioned, but more than likely he was in it for the money. Was his war

against pedophilia a war against something that he believed was truly wrong? Or

something that got him into the media and brought sponsorships from

multinational corporations? It seemed as if Eckleston appeared on television

every other day.

"'ndependen', and they's tha' worse fuckin' kind. 'least with 'publicans you

know where you stand. He use' ta be a goddamn professor at some college out

west. Got `isself `lected to tha' House las `ear `cause `e knew wha' a do fer

votes. Smart dam' fucker." Hackman stopped.

"That's it?"

"More a' less. 'n he keeps getting' his ass in tha' way."

"Married? Divorced? What did he do before politics? Any dirt?"

"'e single. No woman far as I hear." Hackman smirked knowingly.

"Fag?" Eckleston asked immediately.

"Maybe,...." Hackman smirked knowingly. "Maybe he's worse `n a fag."

Eckleston nodded. There was only one thing worse than a homosexual. Was Hackman

trying to tell him that Lane was a pedophile? He watched Hackman's eyes. The man

avoided him for a moment.

Hackman lowered his voice. "We wan' `im discredited. Don' care `ow, but gettin'

`im tha' way would be easiest."

"Why?"

"'cause," Hackman hesitated to share the knowledge.

After Watergate, if the word got out how the information had been obtained it

could spell the end of his political career. There were rules to follow, some

written, some not.

"I seen tha' fucker's FBI file," he said simply, hoping it was enough.

"And?" Eckleston prompted hopefully. "He's a suspected pedophile?" he suggested

eagerly.

It was a logical choice because Hackman had asked him, Martin Eckleston, to do

something. It was common knowledge that his life's mission was to rout out

pedophiles, especially those in positions of importance, the ones who had the

most to lose. Better still, important men brought the greatest media attention,

and media exposure brought funding. The best men to expose were those in

political office, because it angered people that they had elected them and

brought money from just about everyone. People expected priests and boy-scout

leaders to be pedophiles. They weren't tolerated either, but exposing one or two

did not make for time on the national news. Judges earned a spot on prime time.

So did archbishops. The media loved them, but reporters were especially fond of

exposing politicians.

Hackman waited for as long as he could. If he said there was information in the

file that Lane was a pedophile, it would be a simple matter to have the FBI

investigate. Eckleston was smart enough to figure that out for himself,

especially now that catching pedophiles had been given top priority in the

President's "Pedophiles are Terrorists Too" speech of a week earlier. However,

the last thing the President wanted was an official investigation of Congressman

Lane.

"There weren't nuthin' 'bout that I could see," he said moodily.

"Then what?" Eckleston sounded grumpy, discouraged. He had been hoping for an

opportunity to use his special skills.

Again Hackman hesitated. He glanced around the room, wondering if it might be

bugged. It was unlikely, but it was not impossible. It was unfortunate that he

had been unable to request the usual Secret Service inspection prior to his

arrival.

"Jus' 'tween you `n me this is?" he said slyly. "What ah've got on Lane is right

down your lane, we might say," he added with a smirk.

Eckleston nodded. He could not help smiling. Despite the issue of legality,

perhaps the FBI had finally started doing what his organization had been doing

for the last three years. His undercover Internet site, `evolyob', was linked

from many of the major so-called `boylove' sites. It had an average of 5,000

hits a day, mostly from men who were looking for pictures of boys. The picture

on the first page was an invitation to pedophiles. It was a photograph of a boy

in a low-cut Speedo. He had a smile and a caption that said `come and get me'.

Each visitor's IP address was recorded. Two hits from the same computer was

enough to arouse his interest. It was an easy matter to find out where the

computer was located. It was more difficult to find out who actually owned the

computer and had access to it. Sometimes it ended right there because a

surprising number of visitors were from law enforcement agencies. However, there

were many other times when his team of geeks tried to hack back onto the

infringing computer. They did it very carefully. Five times out of ten, the

visitors' computers had bad security. It was surprising the things people kept

on their computers. Diaries, logs of chats with net-friends, E-mails, and

pictures. The pictures were the best. They were easy to find, and it was

remarkably difficult to remove all traces from the hard drive. Pictures were

also prima facie evidence of pedophilia.

Eckleston studied Hackman. Waiting. He knew exactly how to use the information

if it was true. And if it wasn't? It could still be arranged if the man had a

computer. It was a simple matter to gain access on most computers, and once

there were photographs hidden on the hard drive it really did not matter whether

if they had been placed there voluntarily or not. No one believed a pedophile's

claim of innocence.

"We got `is DNA to prove it," Hackman muttered, trying his best to sound quiet

and tentative.

This was even more interesting and Eckleston did his best to conceal his

curiosity as he tried to remember what he knew of Congressman Lane. The only

thing that he had heard was that Lane had pushed hard to have the Healthy

Nations Act changed so that genetic information could not be collected and then

misused. Unfortunately, the genetic database was a key component of the

President's plan and was not about to disappear because of one man's

intervention. She was not a woman to be crossed.

"I seen `is tes' result myself," Hackman confided, hoping that was enough.

"And?" Eckleston asked, wondering how the sample of the congressman's DNA had

been obtained. He smirked as he realized that was why the Vice President was

being very careful.

"He got a pos'tive on tha' da Vinci thing," Hackman finally admitted.

There was no need to elaborate. The two men regarded each other in silence,

holding back smiles. Given Lane's extreme position on the Healthy Nations Act,

it was inconceivable that he would have allowed his DNA to be tested. Ergo, it

had not been given voluntarily. Was it illegal to collect and test someone's DNA

without their permission, Eckleston wondered? Without a crime having been

committed, it was very likely to be illegal. Not that it mattered to Eckleston.

Any method was fair when it came to catching pedophiles. Neither did it matter

that Lane had not actually broken the law. Merely having the da Vinci gene meant

that it had become a matter of `chicken or egg'.

However, the problem as the courts would see it was that having the gene did not

mean that Lane was necessarily guilty of criminal behavior. Accordingly, Lane

could not discredited in court. If Lane ever found out that his DNA had been

used without his knowledge it was possible that he would bring suit. Having the

gene meant that he had a tendency towards pedophilia, and that was all. Still,

it did not worry Eckleston unduly. If the information was carefully handled,

even that could be enough to ruin Lane's career once the word got out to the

mass media. Unsubstantiated rumors of a relationship with a boy might be enough.

"Does he indeed? So he's predisposed to boy-dick, huh? Well, well, well! Imagine

that. With luck we might even find he's been getting his boys on the quiet. A

lot of them do, you know, just by cruising the malls on a weekend. What is it

you want me to do? I can have my people keep an eye on him?" Eckleston asked.

"Cain' wait tha' long. I wan' wha' you done to tha' Judge," Hackman laughed.

"Even if it ain't true."

"You want him arrested? We'll need more than some DNA for that. Still, we could

do a few things. How about some real bad press? He won't be re-elected."

"No `rests fer God's sake. We don' want him knowin' `bout tha DNA either. Holly

wan's him gone. Nuthin' in the press either. Dis'credited, tha's all. Get rid `a

`im quiet like. Nuthin' tha' might come back to us!"

"Okay. I've got an idea."

"Tell me."

"How about this? We set him up with a boy, the type of kid that pedophiles are

attracted to. If Lane's got the gene it's likely that he'll have sex a with kid

if the right opportunity presents itself. How about it? We catch him

red-handed," Eckleston suggested with a smirk. "Get some incriminating

photographs. Maybe a video. That's probably the best way. Then there's no

question he's a pedophile. He won't have a choice but to get out of politics for

good. You could even run it through the courts to get him really scared. I know

a judge or two who'd do whatever we wanted. With that' two strikes law, he'll

head for the hills. You won't see his sorry ass again."

"Under tha' right circumstances tha' would work," Hackman mused. "How you plan

`n getting' `im with a boy?"

"Something might be arranged I suppose," Eckleston suggested shrewdly. It was a

hint that he could do whatever was needed. He nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

"You'll want it done quickly, of course."

Hackman nodded briefly. "Real fas'. She wan's him gone, `morrow if not sooner.

Tha' NICE Act's gonna come `fore the House fer tha first time next Thurs'ay."

"That's awfully fast," Eckleston remarked. "But I know my people can handle it."

He smiled. What he had in mind was very creative, even for him. He hesitated,

considering how much he should tell Hackman. The problem was that it was common

knowledge in Washington DC that John Malone was a major political contributor

who had close ties to the current Administration. He had been hoping to use

Malone's situation to advance his own cause. However, he might not get a better

chance to use what he discovered.

"The press haven't heard yet, but,...." Eckleston began. As usual, he played it

safe. "It turns out my team recently caught up with someone you might find

interesting."

"Who?"

"He's the president of Intratek."

"Malone?" Hackman said asked abruptly. "John Malone?"

"Yeah, that's the dude alright. So far, no one knows. Even the District

Attorney's Office hasn't heard about it yet. We were talking about it last

night. My people want him charged to the max because he thinks he's so fucking

important, but we also know about his situation with you and President Denton,

so it's been in limbo for a while. The thing is once the grand jury gets the

case there's sure to be an indictment. We got him cold, photographs of him and

everything. He's an ass-fucking pedophile if ever there was one. He'll get life,

that's certain."

"Holly's gonna be `int-rested, I `spect." Hackman mused aloud and Eckleston

returned a smile. "What's he done wrong?"

"The question is probably what hasn't he done. He's been doing his nephew on the

side for a year or two. Cute kid too, blond and blue eyed, a real little

darling. The kid's as queer as they come, and believe me, I've seen some queer

kids over the years. He's eleven or twelve, I think."

"How did you get onto him?"

"I met Malone in one of those chat rooms where pedophiles hang out. I told him I

had a boy of my own, Y-Fs they call them, for young friends. Anyway, I offered

to send him a photo if he sent me one of his boy. The dumb-ass fell for it. Most

of them do, men and boys both. They're so lonely, they jump at the chance of

someone to talk to."

"So? How did you get him? He sent pornos or somethin'," Hackman said

impatiently.

Eckleston was not about to be rushed. He lived to hunt predators. He took pride

in what he did.

"No, it was okay what he sent. He isn't that dumb. Didn't matter because we did

a direct connect. That's got to be the dumbest way of communicating ever

invented." He smirked. "People think it's private! I run a little program in the

background, called `snoop', while the data is going across. The next thing is

I've got his IP address. We hacked him that same night, before he turned his

computer off. He had a couple of hundred pictures of his nephew. That boy's a

cock-hound, if ever there was one. He's perfect bait for Lane. I don't know any

pedo who wouldn't want to take him to bed."

Both men turned and noticed that they were no longer alone. The two other

members of the tribunal had entered the room together.

"The thing is, see, they're real close, Malone and this kid. It wasn't just a

one-time thing. They'd been doing it for a couple of years I'd say. I expect the

boy will do just about anything to get his uncle out of trouble."

"Hm," Hackman mused. "This could kill two birds, couldn't it?" he suggested

thinking about.

The other man nodded, thinking along the same lines, watching the new arrivals

head towards the refreshment table. The last thing the Administration would want

to see was one of its most important benefactors arrested on charges of gross

sexual imposition of a minor, especially his own nephew.

"Just leave it to me," Eckleston ended hastily. "Lane'll probably even enjoy

doing it up this kid's ass. He's cute as a button."

"'s gotta be real discreet," Hackman remarked pointedly. "Nuthin' back to me or

Holly, or you fer tha' matter. If it works, me 'n Holly will handle Malone."

The deal was struck without a handshake or formal agreement. Eckleston was no

fool. He had realized that he would become head of the Institute if he played

his cards right. Now, it was simply a formality and doing what Hackman wanted.

Hackman turned away and quickly made his way to meet the newcomers. Dr. Jarvis

Wright was African-American, nearly forty, and head of the Psychology Department

of a large hospital in Detroit. Rumor had it that he had been sexually abused by

a Catholic priest as a boy. It did not matter that the same priest had helped

him continuously over a ten-year period, even pulling strings to get his protégé

into Notre Dame.

The other member of the tribunal was Janet Frieland. She was a slightly built

woman with graying hair. Hackman knew even less about her. Her only

qualification for membership in the august body was that she had lost her only

son to the serial killer in Alabama. He had seen her picture in the paper,

standing grief-stricken on her front porch when the police came to announce her

son's naked body had been discovered in a barn. He was impressed by her

determined expression. He hoped that she was out for vengeance. It was likely

because her son had been horribly abused before he died.

One white male, one female, and one black male made for a nicely balanced

committee to do the nation's bidding. Hackman made brief introductions and led

the way across the room to the table in front of the window.

He handed each of them a copy of the NICE legislation as it currently stood and

quickly reviewed its goals. Then, as they began to dine on filet of sole sautéed

in white wine, herbed potatoes and steamed asparagus in hollandaise sauce, he

asked for questions. He did not have to wait very long.

"It isn't clear in the legislation, but my impression is that you're going to

sterilize boys who have the gene? That's what the so-called treatment is, isn't

it?" Frieland asked abruptly.

She held her fork awkwardly, shaking slightly. It was clear both from her manner

and the tone of her voice that she was not happy with the concept. Perhaps she

was the wrong person for the job.

"No one wan's ta' do it, Janet, but when you get down to dealin' wid tha'

prob'em, tha's only way," Hackman answered as sincerely as he could.

"I can't believe,...." She sounded angry. "No! It isn't right."

Hackman glimpsed Eckleston's sudden spark of interest. His eyes lifted up,

narrowing suspiciously. By that point, Hackman was beginning to think that he

had made a grave error with the woman. He hated to admit his mistakes. Most of

the time, he was able to cover them up. But she was visibly upset, and he could

not think of what he might have said that was inappropriate.

"It's just so,...." Frieland began again, yet her anger had faded. "So extreme,

I suppose. It would be different if it was being done to men who, well,... who

were criminals already. But little boys who haven't done anything wrong?"

"I und'stand `ow you feel. But t's fer tha' bes' fer all `cerned," he added.

"Not jus' tha' victims. You und'stand, Janet. This'll keep `em boys out'a jail

as well. It's a win-win all `round."

He tried to remember the name of her son so he could personalize the message. It

was a common name; Billy, Joey, Bobby, Stevie, something like that.

"It's just so extreme, Mr. Vice President," she repeated tonelessly.

Her hackles always went up when someone said `win-win'. All too often the people

who `walked the walk and talked the talk' were into `win-win'. It was bull-shit.

Life wasn't about win-win. There were winners and whiners. You either won or you

lost, and when you lost, you whined about it. The fact was that she and Joshua

had lost and that disgusting animal in Anniston, Alabama, had won. The police

had tried to hide from her what had been done to her son. The monster had him

for five days and four long nights. Luckily, at the trial she had not seen the

police photographs of the crime scene. It was not a pretty sight. Instead, she

had heard about her son's injuries at the trial. It still turned her stomach

whenever she remembered the prosecution's evidence, the pathologist speaking in

a monotone as he described the boys' ordeal, the nature of what had been done to

them before, and then after they had taken their last breaths.

Hackman sighed and attempted to sound as if he was consumed by regret. Political

correctness was his forte. Even though he was fairly confident that pedophiles

weren't covered by social conscience, castrating young boys was likely to draw a

lot of sympathy.

"We figure it this way. We do it fer a coupla generation, tha's all, `n then'

there ain't no more kids bein' mur'ded. Yo'se son don't be dyin' `n vain, Janet.

This give meanin' ta' `is life, know wha' I mean?"

"Yes," she said weakly.

She dabbed her napkin at her lips. Then, hurriedly she shifted the crisp white

linen to her eyes before she started to cry.

Hackman folded his hands. He looked around the table. Jarvis Wright appeared to

be listening, but unwilling to express an opinion. Perhaps he had made a mistake

with him as well. He had not expected resistance from the tribunal members.

"Tha' an'mal tha' hurt `im, couldn'a done it," he said softly, speaking just to

her to build rapport. "If this `ere l'slation was pass'd `e be `live t'day. Tha'

sooner we start doin' it tha' better, you see ma poin', Janet?"

"But those poor boys. They can't help being the way they are. It's the gene's

fault," she said plaintively. "It isn't their fault being born with a defective

gene."

"Tha's true, but we gotta put them pedophiles in a' place where they cain't he

hurtin' other boys. Mos' peoples say they belon' `n hell. This way we get `em

out'a tha' schools, away from normal kids, wid their own kinds. Better `n jail

fer life."

"Hear, hear," Eckleston said supportively. "I agree 100 percent, Mr. Vice

President. It's the best thing we can do for the boys. Of course, it's a

terrible shame. I don't want to do it either. They can't help being the way they

are, but it doesn't change the fact that these boys threaten our country's

children. Pedophilia's evil. It doesn't matter whether it's a man or a boy who's

doing it. The result is the same." He looked directly at Janet Frieland. "Your

son is in Heaven, Janet. But it's still Hell down here. Pedophiles are raping

and killing our children every day. We've even caught some who are twelve years

old! They're just as dangerous as grown men, probably more so because no one

suspects them. We have got to stop them! Is the remedy extreme? Yes! Will it

work? Yes! We have to do whatever it takes to stop this plague before they

destroy us."

His enthusiasm was infectious. She nodded in agreement, listlessly forking the

food from her plate into her thin-lipped mouth. She had not been an attractive

woman since her son's death.

"He's right, Janet," Wright added tonelessly. "Something has to be done. These

pedophiles are everywhere, just waiting for the chance to hurt our children. We

have the opportunity to effect a change. It would be very wrong it we did not

take advantage of it."

"Tha's right," Hackman agreed wholeheartedly. "Time we started castratin' them

like tha' an'mals they are. Turn `em into girls n`stead `a boy-fuckers."

A moment passed before anyone was able to talk. Finally Wright continued where

he had left off. For a while, his expression had been incredulous.

"I agree that we have to do something. Exactly what that is, I'm not sure.

Castration might be extreme, but extreme measures are called for sometimes, I

believe. Our job will be to make the remedy, unpleasant though it is, tolerable

for all concerned."

Eckleston turned to Wright. It was time to exert leadership. He took a deep

breath, let it out slowly, folded his hands in front of him, looked around the

table, and waited for attention to be focused on him.

"You're right about that, Jarvis. The important thing is how we go about it."

"We got'a sell tha' idea to tha' public," Hackman announced the obvious.

"What we need is a good marketing program," Frieland acknowledged.

"Tri-directional, focused to the target audience, but using non-specific

motivators with symbolic meanings to convey the message. Some of it needs to be

very intense, yet subliminal."

"Huh?" Eckleston said loudly.

"Well, for one thing we need one set of mixed media advertising for the parents,

because they'll need convincing that it's in their son's best interest. It's the

only way of keeping them out of jail, or something like that."

"We're steppin' up tha' pros'cution `a pedophiles," Hackman interjected. "Tha'

Bureau buildin' a public data-base of all `em. They won't be getting' jobs. They

won't be showin' they's ugly faces. If they so much as look at a kid they get

charged."

Frieland shrugged. "That's a good start. It's about time the laws were

enforced."

"We's goin' after `em `n a big way. Startin' with weekly checks by tha' local

cops. We'll be usin' tha' Anti-Terr-ist laws to get `em too. Tha' Pres'dent's

gonna `nounce that in a coupla weeks. Ped-phi-lia is terr'ism `gainst `merica's

kids. With two-strikes, most of `em will be doin' life in a year. Git rid of tha

young ones, and stop tha rest from breedin' `n won't take long fer they's all

gone."

Frieland waited until he had finished before she resumed. It was difficult to

believe that the country had elected him as Vice President. The last election

had been a victory for women and minorities.

"And we'll need another campaign, probably using sports figures as role models,

for the boys themselves. A low-key message, something like `sometimes a person

has to make personal sacrifices for the good of everyone.' Social conscience,

that's more than likely the best way to reach them. We need a psychologist to

look at other ways of influencing them. We have to build acceptance deep down so

they see it as voluntary. It's their responsibility to do the socially

responsible thing. Something like that. We need to get to the boys early on so

they aren't scared to death, but also to tell them that they don't have any

other alternative except to,...." She paused to chose her words. ".... well be

emasculated I suppose is the best way of putting it. And then we'll need another

program, mostly a good will, P-R campaign, for the general public who are

worried that the government has gone too far. If we do it properly, they'll be

lining up at the door."

"You make it sound like a marketing program is all we need."

"No, I'm not saying that, Mr. Eckleston. One thing is certain, we can't be

talking about castration."

"Why not?"

"For Heaven's sake! Castration,... It has what you might call negative

connotations," she said in disbelief. "Of course, emasculation isn't any better.

We need to think of a better term to describe the process."

"Gelding," Eckleston laughed. "Or how about neutering, like a dog."

"At least it's better than telling parents their sons are going to be

castrated." Frieland grimaced, making a sour face at Eckleston. He laughed.

"Okay, so we call it neutering instead of castration. Is that better? A neutered

boy? Just like a dog after he's been to the vet. It's actually descriptive of

the end result," Eckleston acknowledged. "They won't be male that's for sure.

We're creating a third gender, neuters for neutralized pedophiles," he finished

with a sarcastic tone.

Wright agreed, reluctantly at first. "Actually, I hate to say it but I think it

works. People are already used to the concept of neutering their pets to prevent

breeding! I don't think we'll have too many problems if we extend the concept to

include a human genetic flaw, not when it results in such terrible evil as

pedophilia."

"I don't care how we do it, just so long as they're NICE boys when we're done,"

Eckleston laughed.

"NICE boys?" Frieland asked curiously, wondering if she had misheard.

"Well, that's what they'll be. NICE, from the legislation name and all,"

Eckleston explained. "NICE boys don't have nuthin' to worry about," he joked.

"Get it? Nut-n'. Neuters are boys who don't have nuts. No nuts.?"

"I like the concept, but not the phrase. How about `neuters are nice, not

evil'," Frieland suggested. "We could use that in the marketing approach."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely! It uncomplicated. It deals with a fundamental contrast so it's sure

to be remembered. Nice and evil. It's a good combination, it says a lot without

being specific. We'll run a series of commercials using a boy, a young teenager

would be best. He'd be sexually mature, but still young enough that the boys

we're targeting can still relate to him. Thirteen or fourteen years old at most.

Hm,... we need before and after messages. Of course, we won't show him abusing

another boy, that wouldn't be appropriate, but we can make the suggestion that

he does things that he shouldn't. Always hanging out with younger boys. Show his

frustration when he's spurned. No girlfriends. He plays with,.... Lego. He likes

little kids toys. Computer games, anything that bring him closer to them."

"I think we're getting ahead of ourselves," Eckleston said dryly. "Talking about

marketing at this stage, it's premature."

Hackman sat forward, and gestured for her to continue.

"Hardly. Marketing is never premature. I'm the director of marketing for

Critical-mass," Frieland explained haughtily. "It's a mass-media marketing

company. We do this sort of thing all the time. It can be very effective."

Hackman smiled. It was an unexpected windfall. He had not done much background

checking on her. There had been no time given the President's schedule.

"I'm impressed," he said, nodding with growing interest.

"It's not premature because selling the idea is the most important thing we have

to do," Frieland commented pointedly. "First and foremost, we have to sell this

to the public. If they don't buy in, there'll be a massive outcry. Once we have

acceptance, then we focus on the parents, and simultaneously on the boys

themselves. We can have this up and running in a month."

"My research shows people already loathe pedophiles." Eckleston waited for her

to contradict him. "I don't think we need to convince them it's evil and

something has to be done to stop it. They already know that."

"Yes, they do," she agreed. "However, loathing a man who abuses and hurts a kid

is a hell of a lot different to cutting the balls of a harmless little boy. The

public wouldn't complain if we castrated sex abusers, particularly violent

offenders, but what we're talking about is a very different matter."

"I `gree. We gotta sell this real good. We need it done fast. Tha' Act comes

`fore Congress `n a week," Hackman added.

"That soon?"

"Tha' too soon?"

"Yes! Way too soon. I'll need a couple of weeks at least, Mr. Hackman. I'd like

longer of course. But it's not impossible to do it on a short time frame. As Mr.

Eckleston so rightly points out, people are already very negative to pedophiles,

so it's a fairly easy sell. All we have to do is raise the hatred level so it's

no longer a question of moral conscience but a gut reaction to take action. I

think we can do it if we get to work right away."

Wright nodded in agreement. "I agree, Mr. Vice President. It's basic psychology,

when you think about it. We're hitting directly at the fundamental struggle

between the id and the superego. We provide enough information and motivation

for the ego to take control of the situation."

"What d' you s'ggest?" Hackman asked anxiously, ignoring words that he could not

understand.

Frieland thought for a moment, remembering her son's happy laugh. His voice had

not broken, and sometimes he when he sang in the church choir he sounded more

like a girl than a boy. Deep down, she was a very religious person. After

folding her hands together, prayer-like she smiled.

"What we need to get this started is for people to realize that we have a crisis

of epidemic proportions.... A pedophile around every corner.... No child is

safe."

Hackman glanced at Eckleston, then Wright. Both men were nodding in agreement.

"Wha' kind `a crisis?" he asked.

"I think I know. It's the kind that comes along every couple of years. Remember

in 2001 when all those Catholic priests were exposed? The media called them

`pedophile priests'. By the time they were finished, people thought there was a

pedophile waiting in every church," Eckleston said with a smirking leer at

Wright.

It was as good as saying that Wright should know better than anyone since he had

first-hand experience. According to rumor and the lawsuit that had been filed

when Wright was twenty-five, he had been repeatedly sodomized by a holy father

from the age of nine. There had been no mention made of the years of love and

support that followed.

"There was damned near a thousand of them by the next year. And they're still

coming out from under the rocks," Eckleston said. "It must be costing the Church

a fortune in settling the lawsuits."

"Church attendance dropped more than a few points then, I imagine," Frieland

added with a laugh. "However, what we have to do here is on an order of

magnitude a hundred times larger."

"Like wha'?" Hackman asked.

She scratched her eyebrow, glancing at Eckleston. He nodded and picked up the

idea. There were some things best left to others. If it failed, she could always

point out why.

"We start off with a missing boy," he began cautiously, thinking as he talked.

"A cute kid. All-American boy. White, of course. Blond too. Young, maybe five or

six. The kind of boy that a young pedophile might go after. We feature videos of

him at home, playing baseball, watching TV, whatever."

"Anything that gets people to relate to him," Frieland interjected. "We project

him as the future of America. Innocent, energetic, curious about the world...."

"But still a normal boy," Wright said, "so that every parent in the country sees

him as their own child."

"We recreate the same thing that we saw in that missing-girl case in California

a few years back. Only no obvious suspects. Some of his blood-stained clothes

will turn up after a day or two. People will immediately think it's a sex crime.

Throw in some ugly rumors of one of the local teenagers exposing himself to

young boys."

"That would work to get it started," Frieland agreed. "We follow up with an

exposure of pedophiles in the neighborhood. Lots of them. Some background

stories going back a few years would help. Mostly that would be cut and paste of

news footage. " She paused, shaking her head. "There's only one problem."

"Wha's that?" Hackman asked.

"If the word gets out it's not true."

"Sheet!" Hackman growled. "Tha' media would `ave a fuckin' field day!"

Suddenly, Frieland laughed. Everyone looked at her.

"I thing I may have the perfect idea to bring this all together."

The silence dragged on as she contemplated what she was about to say. She

nodded, muttering to herself.

"Well? You gonna share it?" Hackman demanded brusquely.

"We don't make it real! We keep it fiction, but we can say it's based on real

life stories! I saw some data a few weeks back. 95% of people can't tell fact

from fiction when it's presented the same way."

"Okay, so what?" Eckleston demanded.

"We need a prime-time television show that uses a news format. News desks,

breaking stories,.... Phone-ins. Even a caption line on the bottom. We recreate

the real with something that's largely fiction. It'll be a new form of

entertainment. We call it,... The Predator-Hunter? Something like that, but it's

already taken. The Hunter and the Hunted? No, not expressive enough. The

Pedophile Predator? The Predator?"

"It's a great idea, but in a few weeks?" Eckleston said cynically.

"It's difficult, but not possible. A week for scripting, another week to film.

The actors will need to ad-lib sometimes to fill in the gaps. Or maybe this is a

better idea. We could do it live, Oprah-style. Bring together the parents of

abused kids. Have some actors play the part of the pedophiles. Use that as the

start up, while we make a couple of shows."

"I thought TV stations planned their schedules months ahead."

"They do."

"Then how do you plan to,..."

Frieland cut him off. "We buy time at first. Just like a paid-for info-mercial.

I do this all the time. It's expensive, but it's so creative, it'll get the

ratings. Remember the `Survivor' show. It was the stupidest damn thing, but

people loved it. I'm sure a lot of people thought it was true."

She looked around the table. The three men were uncertain, but she had the

expertise to deliver. All that was needed was the funding.

"It'll be expensive as hell, but if we get the ratings they'll soon be paying

us," she added. "I know where to start running it too. Court TV. It's expensive

but it's perfect. They do pay-time until mid-morning when the courts open for

business."

"'ow `spensive?"

"I'd count one or two million a show, just to make it. Say another five million

to buy the time each week to go national. We'll need to hire a host, someone in

the public eye like,...."

"How about Miller?" Eckleston joked. "I've been trying to get that fucker for

ten years now. Goddamn asshole either runs a real tight ship or keeps a low

profile. He's one pedophile who learned his lesson, I suppose."

He was met with a withering glance from Wright and Frieland.

"So that would make it an even seven million a show. Assume we need to run it

for half a season, plus some funds to start making some documentaries. The first

few weeks are going to be higher than the average. So let's say fifty million

total to get started. It should be enough for the first month or two."

"Tha' much?" Hackman asked.

It was not that he hadn't considered the cost ramifications of the NICE act,

because he had. However, his estimate was a long way off. A mere five million

had been budgeted for promotion, and that was for an entire year. At the rate of

fifty million a month, the annual cost for marketing alone could be close to

half-a-billion a year."

"There'll need to be research done as well," Wright interjected.

"'search?" Hackman disputed. One of his advisors had said a similar thing. He

still did not understand why research was necessary.

"Yes. This also has to be seen as a scientific endeavor," Frieland said flatly.

"Science, especially medical science, commands the public's respect."

"We'll need researchers working in several different areas," Wright added.

"And we're going to need start up funds as well as operating funds. The

television program will be the most expensive component. However, by the time

I'm done, we will get the results we want, trust me."

"Ah'm puttin' Mart'n `n charge of tha' NICE program. `cause it's a tribunal. You

all be equal, but ah'm appointin' him tha' senior member," Hackman announced.

It was almost as if he was doing it without reason, whereas it was obvious to

everyone that he resented the woman's aggressive manner and greater knowledge.

It was well known that he had problems with smart women. And Wright, although he

was black, so clearly lacked the character that was needed for leadership.

Frieland regarded him coldly. For a moment she held back while she examined,

first Hackman, and then Eckleston.

"Then his first priority should be to develop a budget that includes ample funds

for marketing, because without it, there is no NICE program."

"She's right," Wright agreed. "Selling this to the public will be the most

difficult thing we do. If the funds aren't there to do it properly we might as

well forget the whole thing here and now."

"Developing a budget is something I usually leave to the accountants," Eckleston

explained hastily. "I figure my time is better spent on strategy. That's what

leadership is all about."

Frieland gave a shrug that left no question of her opinion about Eckleston's

ability to provide leadership, with or without strategy.

"Ah' can `sure you tha' funds be there," Hackman said to fill the silence,

wondering how he could convince the President to find another half-billion in

the budget. "Tha' poin's well taken. Ah figur' there's `nough to keep y'all

busy."

Wright laughed. "Maybe it's a fluke, but I think we have the right people

sitting around the table. If anyone can do it, we can."

Hackman smirked. He had worked his assistants hard to find them. Three people

who loathed pedophiles. He had the right people and a racially and sexually

balanced committee to boot.

"See, Janet brings the marketing angle. I'm the scientist, well psychologist

really, and Eckleston,... well, I expect he's the face man for the media."

Eckleston's eyes narrowed at the insult. He was singularly unattractive. "You

want to explain how psychology fits into it, Jarvis?"

Wright rose to the challenge. "Certainly, Martin. We have a plan to emasculate a

large number of young boys right?"

"Yes,...."

"How old will these boys be at the time?"

"I don't know. You tell me the best age. You're supposed to be the doctor."

Wright did not appreciate the tone of voice. Still, he thought for a moment.

"Ideally, you'd want to be able to prevent conception or eliminate the gene

using some sort of test while it's still in the womb. Of course, the father

would have to be the carrier," he added without following the thought through to

its logical conclusion.

"Go on. Get to the point," Eckleston prompted.

"Failing that, we need to do two things. We have to prevent the carriers of the

gene from breeding and we need to stop them from being active pedophiles by

reducing their sex drive. That basically means removing the testis. The best

time would be do it as soon as the baby is born. Then, it would be a lot like

circumcision. It's usually done before a baby leaves the hospital so he won't

remember what was done. He'll grow up thinking his body was always that way.

However, there's no way people would let that happen. Castrating babies isn't on

the cards. It would be different if the baby was still in the womb and we could

get to it there. I think a lot of parents would abort if they knew the baby

would grow up to be a pedophile."

"Probably. So what's the best age to do it?" Eckleston repeated. "Give me a

range."

"Between seven and eleven I suppose."

"Why no younger than seven?"

"We could do it younger, but we'll have our hands full as it is. Any older and

puberty would be a problem," Wright added.

"Why's that a problem?"

"It's simple. See, I'm assuming we'd want to prevent a boy from reaching sexual

maturity. Without testosterone there isn't a lot of interest, and without the

physical development of his genitals, there isn't much he can do even if he

tries to sexually abuse a child. Then, there's the matter of intellectual and

emotional development. Adolescents won't go along willingly. They have enough

brains to question what they're being told. Boys from seven to eleven are ideal.

They even have a strong sense of social responsibility."

"He's right," Frieland agreed. "I've done some toy marketing for that age group.

It's a relatively easy sell job. Peer pressure does most of the work for you.

The younger the better in my opinion."

"Yeah, I like that idea. Castrate them early, so they can't do anything to hurt

other kids. Sort of `nip it in the bud' so to speak," Eckleston agreed with a

cruel sneer.

Frieland shook her head. "Look, I'll say this simply. If castrating young boys

is the only way to achieve the goal of getting rid of pedophiles, it isn't going

to work."

"Why?" Eckleston demanded.

"Speaking as a parent, there's no way I would have ever allowed my son to be

castrated. Gene or no gene, I would not let it happen." She stopped suddenly.

The silence echoed. She sighed and shook her head in bitterness. "It's inhuman!

There's got to be another way with the same end result but doesn't involve

surgery," Frieland said with barely constrained emotion.

"There is," Hackman interrupted. "Ma committee ha' tha' same pro'lem. `n the

Pres'dent had tha' same pro'lem. Tha' fac'is AMA would likely move ta' stop it."

"So is there a solution?" Frieland asked sarcastically. She relented. "Because

without one we might as well go home."

"Yeah, I hear they's got some other ways. There's some kinda 'jection. Used on

an'mals a few `ears back. Eats' `em up in a coupla weeks."

"An injection in the testicles?" Eckleston asked. He was barely able to restrain

his enthusiasm. Whatever it took to stop pedophiles was acceptable to him. An

injection would be easy to do. It could be done en mass, forcibly if need be.

Hackman gestured an arrogant dismissal of the question as if knowledge of such

details was beyond his purview.

"Actually, that might be alright," Frieland said pensively. "Parents are used to

their children getting inoculations. This would be just one more shot."

"The important thing is it doesn't invade their sense of sovereignty," Wright

added.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eckleston asked acerbically.

Wright's expression conveyed very little of what he was thinking. Some people

believed that he was without emotions.

"Whatever we do, and there should be several options at least," Frieland

explained, "it's essential that some of them are non-invasive. The more distant

the parents are from the effects of treatment the easier they're going to accept

it. Even sticking a needle in Johnny's balls will be too much for a lot of

people. I'm not sure I would let that happen to my child, but it's definitely

preferable to surgery. We need methods that minimize the parents' involvement.

Ideally, the boy's appearance would not be changed, at least the outward

appearance of his genitals would be much the same afterwards."

"'s gotta be perm'nent and comprehensive. 'n ver'fiable," Hackman interjected.

"Tha's in tha' act."

"Well, we'll have to look into it right away," Wright stated. "I'm probably the

best person to do that." He looked at the other members of the committee. "Which

leaves us with the interesting question of what we're going to do with boys

afterwards, keeping in mind that they may, or may not become pedophiles when

they're older."

Eckleston shook his head. "Okay, so what? If they have the gene, what's it

called, it doesn't matter what happens to them as far as I'm concerned. They're

pedophiles. Once they've had the treatment, the problem goes away because then

they can't do anything to hurt a kid."

"It's called the da Vinci gene," Frieland answered huffily. "I think what Jarvis

is saying that one can't be sure,... until they actually do something to a

child, whether having the gene is going to be a problem. Which could be years

afterwards, by the way."

Wright nodded. "Exactly, Janet. And if I remember correctly the number of males

who already have the gene is well over a hundred thousand. There's something

like 3,000 boys being born every year with it. My point being, what are we going

to do with them after they've been neutered."

Eckleston shrugged. "It really doesn't matter one iota." He smirked. "That

Landers woman got it right when she said that 'the only molesters who can be

considered permanently cured are those who have been surgically castrated.' They

aren't going to be fucking any boys afterwards that's for sure,.... Sorry,

Janet," he added perfunctorily. "I can't see what the problem is. Assuming there

is a problem besides figuring out how to castrate 3,000 boys a year in the first

place. If the pediatricians won't do it, we're going to have to set up clinics

of our own. It probably isn't so hard that we can't train nurses to do it."

Frieland rolled her eyes. "Nurses are going to be the same as doctors, maybe

worse because most of them are women and mothers. You might get a few to go

along. I think it would be better if we trained people outside the medical

field. We need to hire and train our own technicians."

"Good point. I want to go back to something. We can't just do nothing

afterwards," Wright continued. "We'll have to limit their access to replacement

hormones for one thing. There will have to be special programs to fit them back

into society. They will have to learn how to live a normal life."

"They won't be normal," Eckleston replied with a smirk. "They won't have balls,

and besides, they'll still be pedophiles because they still have the gene inside

them, right? They just won't be able to do anything about it." He laughed. "But

I guess on the positive side, they won't be in jail either," he added with a

condescending glance at Wright.

"I think he's right, Martin. We cain't deny `em life, lib'ty `n hap'ness,"

Hackman commented. "If they ain't breakin' tha' laws we cain' punish'em."

"See, that's where psychology comes in. However, you're right when you say they

won't be normal. They will learn to hate though because of what's been done to

them," Wright said. "The point I'm getting at is how you take someone like that

and reorient them so they can contribute to society."

"Turn `em in ta fags," Hackman suggested. "There ain't no other way."

"True. I think that's the only way. But how? They're still kids so they're

highly impressionable. It's possible we can use conditioning techniques to

achieve that, but how and where do we do it? How about school? Are we going to

send them back to school minus their nuts and pretend nothing ever happened?

Those kids will be tormented to death, especially if they're gay as well. We're

asking for trouble. If they start committing suicide in mass all hell could

break lose. This could back fire if we aren't careful."

`Frankly, I don't give a damn about them," Eckleston said categorically. "The

world would be better off if they were all dead. This discussion has got to be

the biggest waste of time."

"It's obvious that Jarvis and I don't agree with you," Frieland said

emphatically.

Hackman frowned, contorting his face in exasperation. "What's it goin' ta take?"

he asked tersely.

Everyone looked at him in silence.

"You wan' some kind'a program fer `em after they been castrated. Okay, no

pro'lem if tha's wha's needed."

"What sort of program?" Eckleston asked suspiciously, but trying to ingratiate

himself since Hackman appeared to endorse the suggestion. "You mean like some

kind of shock treatment?"

"The preferred term is aversion therapy, I believe. That is our goal is not to

upset the families more than we need to. That is our goal, isn't it?" Frieland

said bluntly.

"It has to be otherwise failure is just about guaranteed. The way to make this

work is to use social conscience and peer pressure. The boys have to want to be

changed. They have to want to stop themselves from becoming pedophiles. If they

hate themselves enough, they'll make any sacrifice and welcome any improvement."

"So how do we do that?"

"First off, the boys will require intense exposure to whatever it is that we

want them to do. A better word is conditioning, by the way. It's not unlike

training a dog with rewards and punishments. Send a dog to obedience school for

two weeks and it's a totally different dog when it comes home."

"Like I said, shock treatment," Eckleston interjected.

"Then, the boys will need education. There's going to be a lot of things they'll

need to know after they've been,... well, given treatment. Especially if we plan

to reorient them. It's not a simple matter. It'll take a lot more than a few

weeks of aversion therapy."

"You got a curriculum in mind?" Eckleston queried sarcastically. "Three credits

of Fag History 101 followed by No-Balls Biology,..."

"No, but some socio-cultural background on homosexuality might be a good idea to

help them adjust. And there needs to be a thorough sex education as well,"

Wright added. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

Eckleston rolled his eyes.

"Ah got no pro'lem wid tha'. We cain' let `em go back ta school. Even wi'out

nuts they's still a chance of `em doin' it wi' kids."

Hackman had a tendency of stopping the conversation whenever he opened his

mouth. It took several long seconds before anyone spoke.

"That's true, so the main thing we have to do will be to change their sexual

orientation away from kids."

"'n we gotta get `em outta tha' schools." Hackman reiterated.

"Home schooling is a natural," Frieland suggested. "And it's becoming very

acceptable."

"Tha's good a ways as any."

"Interesting.... And it could be more than just education," Wright mused.

"Meaning?" Eckleston asked abruptly.

He did not appreciate how Frieland and Wright had more to offer than he did,

especially when he had devoted his entire adult life to hunting down and

exposing pedophiles. If anyone had the right to decide what was to be done, it

was him.

"I'm thinking," Wright said. After a moment, he added, "Don't laugh, but this is

what I'm thinking. We have adult pedophiles who are a problem,...."

"Tha's n' under sta'men," Hackman joked.

"I noticed that the Act calls for them to be treated too. Only it's voluntary in

their case," Frieland said. "At least we shouldn't have any P-R problems with

that part of it."

Eckleston gave an exaggerated sigh. "Goddamn boy-fuckers," he said bitterly.

"All of them ought to all be castrated and but in jail for life."

"I don't disagree, but the fact is they're going to need an incentive to be

sterilized," Wright interjected.

"Tax credits," Eckleston suggested blithely.

"Would you?" Frieland asked. "For a few thousand dollars? No, I don't think so.

Go on Jarvis."

"Well, I was thinking what would it take to get them to come forward. And we

have a large number of neutered boys who we need to reorient to more appropriate

interests, namely being gay. Why don't we just put them together? A boy for

every man?"

"You mean facilitate relationships?" Frieland asked quickly. Her expression was

one of disbelief, yet she could see the advantages.

"Christ!" Eckleston bellowed. "You're talking about adoption or marriage, or

something. You're crazy!"

"No, of course not. It would be more like a sort of a mentorship. Tie it into

the home- schooling. What do you think?" Wright suggested.

Frieland smiled. The idea had interesting possibilities. She was still worried

about the parents' reactions. "Hm,... so we could,.... Yes, maybe it would work.

Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. It would keep the parents happy and

the NICE boys away from normal children."

"That was my thinking," Wright agreed. "I think the parents will go along with

it too. The last they're going to want is to deal with little Johnny after they

know what he is."

"Better `n nothin'," Hackman agreed.

"Damn straight," Eckleston finally managed to agree. "It'd keep the damned pedos

happy as well," he added under his breath.