Specifically how do you handle confrontation?

An easy target: young girl, alone, burdened with a bag and coat, walking and distracted.  He came out of nowhere, it seemed, and hooked his arm through her bag, which was slung crosswise across her body.  Using the strap and his greater weight, the man in dark clothes pulled her into the dark space between the buildings without a sound.  He swung her by the bag, intending to stun the girl against the brick wall, but he found himself spinning in a full circle when the counterweight disappeared and he was left holding the girl's messenger bag.

Bewildered, the would-be mugger and, quite possibly, rapist, scanned the narrow corridor for his prey, wondering why he didn't hear her fall or cry out or slip on the garbage.  The girl's bag dropped from his flailing hangs when his head was jerked back by a strap around his neck and he found he was incapable of anything but a wheezing, choking sound.  His feet flew out from under him, and he hit the ground hard, his remaining air whooshing out of his lungs and his head ringing with the impact.

What has been your biggest accomplishment? Your biggest failure?

There is a street in a suburb of London with rows of shoulder-to-shoulder brick houses just like you'd see on many similar streets.  Tiny front yards and fences blocking view of the backs.  Driveways and sidewalks and pavement keep it warm in the sun and keep the residents shoveling in the snow.  Some houses have newly replaced roofs or windows.  Some will need them replaced soon.  Some are well past their ideal replacement date.  Attempts have been made by most residents to not only keep their homes neat, but also to provide a little "curb appeal", usually with a colorful door or some potted flowers.

One home, however, has an additional feature, added some months before: a knot of reporters and paparazzi with frayed ends of oglers, opportunists, curious and angry.

Pageant Question: How do you feel about the increasing popularity of "reality TV”?

It is a crime to shut down or tamper with your video system.  You will be incarcerated and the system will be forcibly reinstalled and/or reset.  As promised, these video systems had brought crime down to near zero.  Of course, there were people who tried to get around it, and crimes of passion, but robberies, rapes, stabbings, shootings, burglaries, roughing up--everything--had practically disappeared before my first installation scars had healed as a baby.  Until people got bored.

So, the reason for the cameras, at first, was crime deterrent.  As I said, it worked, but an alternative use for the constant video of every human (and many animals) on the planet came quickly on its heels: entertainment.  Everyone in the world had their own show.  Advertisers hitched their wagons to the most interesting people and the rest of us figured out how to stream the interesting videos directly through our systems to watch as we lived.

Eventually, "Diabolical X" came on the scene.  Diabolical X was a criminal and the most popular show in the world.

Pageant Question: If you caught someone stealing at work, how would you react?

Harry didn't like to eat in the break room because it was so dreary.  He preferred to take his lunch back to his cubicle and hang a homemade "Out to Lunch" sign across the opening to prevent anyone from making him work.  Brenda, Pam and Luce loved the break room, and they lorded over the round table like knights.  Or like The View.  Harry hated to walk past them and he hated even more having to warm his food in the microwave and wait near them because they sounded like chickens clucking.

Today, Claudia was bent over, her head in the refrigerator, and it was a glorious view.  Claudia was a new hire and Harry knew she wouldn't be here long.  "Promotion" was written all over her long legs and tight skirts and low-cut blouses.  Harry stopped near the door to wait for his turn in the fridge, and to admire the view.  Into the fridge, Claudia growled, "Where the hell is my lunch?"

Pageant Question 24: Name one possession that you cannot live without and why?

The beat officers had called in the disturbance before they arrived, so the Chief was prepared, but he was not ready.  The entire precinct could hear the officers struggling with the suspect, even through the thick, oak doors.  It sounded like they were trying to drag a mountain lion up the front steps.  The Chief motioned to the officer on desk duty with his chin.  Brody hurried to open the doors and as soon as he slipped the latch, two harassed officers burst through, dangling what looked like a churning bundle of rags between them.

"What the hell are you bringing in here, gentlemen?  Brody!  Open the door let them through.  Bring, whatever it is, into Interrogation Room One, and strap it down!"  The officers followed directions as their charge kicked and screamed.  "I thought you radioed that it wasn't drugs," he accused, watching them attempt to control the flailing limbs of their suspect.

"It's not drugs, Chief," panted Officer McIntosh.  "I swear... Now hold on, sister!  Just calm the heck down and we can help!"

"Schaffer, did McIntosh say this is a woman?"

The other officer stood from strapping padded Velcro restraints around the suspect's bare ankles, "Yes, sir."  Schaffer rubbed his shoulder as if it ached.  "The orneriest woman I've ever run across, and that's counting both my ex-wives."

Once she was fully strapped into the metal chair which was, in turn, bolted to the floor, all the officers and the Chief backed out of the room, closing the door on the woman's furious scream.  "If it's not drugs, gentlemen, then what the hell is wrong with her?"

McIntosh reached into a pocket and pulled out a silver-colored necklace with a blue stone pendant.  "It's about this."

335

Hesper's chain wouldn't let her move further than six feet from the basement wall.  She used the full stretch to the left, as close to the sump pump as she could get, as her bathroom.  She used the full stretch to the right for sleeping, her left ankle always pointed to the chain's end bolted to the wall.  The right side was next to the furnace, which kept her slightly warmer than anywhere else.

303

Escobar leaned back, the white leather of the couch creaking with his weight.  Sammy shifted from foot to foot, dabbing a handkerchief on his forehead.  "Jose," Escobar addressed one of his bodyguards without taking his eyes off Sammy, "what do you think we should do with this one?"  Jose smiled behind his mirrored sunglasses.  "What do you think?"  Esocobar and Jose laughed while Sammy's brain swirled for a way out.  Any way out.