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Date: Sun, 01 Jul 2007 16:52:11 -1100
From: "Bryon C. Holloway" <Bryon@pernod-ricard-usa.com>
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To: "Alex Alexander" <sales@soundsgoodmusic.net>
Subject: Are you ready for breakfast at Lenas this 4th of July?
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could get away." "I'll send car. You don't touch him, unnerstan'- He's and
Gadgets didn't wait to every word. Sprinting through the brush, already knew
the sadist's message: Horrible death Pol Blancanales. 7 Finally coming to
the Lyons stumbled the last few then had to fall, coughing. On his and knees
he spat long ropes of into the dirt. He had to sprint up the hill with
backpack of weapons and equipment. Though his steps had slowed to determined
march, he had not stopped. His life depended on him. Glancing back, Lyons
saw still struggling up 
slope. Packing more weight weapons, electronics, heavy nickle-cadmium
batteries and lacking Lyons' physical conditioning, Gadgets hundred yards
behind Lyons slipped out of backpack straps, snapped open the "Daylight"
fiberglass and foam case, and crawled the ridgeline. Though the morning
remained gray and the light breeze had away the fog. The scope's optics
closed the distance between Lyons the campground couple of hundred below. He
saw three bikers in front of Blancanales. With heavy wire 
around his wrists, Blancanales hung by his from utility pole, his boots
swinging few inches from the asphalt the parking lot. A biker bloody head
waved As Lyons watched, the biker the blade tip to Blancanales' Lyons
whipped back the Mannlicher's bolt, chambered .308 Accelerator. But one the
other Outlaws, lanky, slow-moving wearing Confederate army cap, shoved 
bloodied biker away from the prisoner. The biker popped open can and
swilled the drink. Setting the safety, Lyons glanced the gravel and road
leading across the to Avalon. He saw one. Gadgets collapsed beside His
throat rasped with breath. As he choked down the he pulled pair of
binoculars from side pocket of his pack and focused the scene below. "Only
those


cya


Christy