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Never underestimate the power of an avenger.

ATTACHED ARE SEVERAL IMAGES OF HER WHOM YOU WILL TERMINATE. VIEWS FROM FRONT AND BACK, AS WELL AS FROM SIDE TO SIDE.

How patiently the caged cock bade his time,

NOTE HER SINGULAR ANOMALY; BY THIS COMMIT NO ERROR.

preened ineffectual feathers camouflaging pinions,

DELIVER IT AND RECEIVE YOUR FEE QUADRUPLED.

clutched his perch with talons in the guise of docile toes,

CUT IT FROM HER CORPSE, PRESERVE IT IN FORMALDEHYDE, AND SEND IT HERE POST-HASTE.

pursed his lips for kisses to mask a beak that could tear through inch-thick hide,

THE ADDRESS WILL BE DISPATCHED WHEN SO IS SHE YOU SEEK:

Harrier misidentified as a rooster;

NANA WOLFFMÜLLER ALIAS JEANNE CLAUDE AKA DEFECTOR.

fool, therefore, am I—lulled by complacency and sabotaged by deceit;

SIGNED,

for the Harrier had a hen, and she no less than he will feel my mortal ire.

SHEIK HADITHAH

Dad rereads the unforeseen directive half a dozen times, sensing between its lines a malice surpassing that already evident in the pact as it is phrased, recognizing the signatory (harpies from his past unleashed by the very name), concluding that his client Jeanne Claude has been usurped—unless she / he was a subterfuge from the start... acting independently or running interference... Stuyvesant Fink a decoy for flushing out the target whom Dad is now obliged not merely to kill but to castrate.

I’ll not be made a butcher by the Sheik or anyone else. Execution is one thing; carving up cadavers is quite another matter—multiplying my fee times four be damned. Four times wealth-sufficient palls as an incentive, especially in the twilight of ones career.

Studying the snapshots, Dad suspects a plot—Ms Wolffmüller’s novel apparatus dominating the handheld module’s screen, baby pictures of which come vividly back to mind (hypertrophic clitoris a mini penis replete with perforated glans, testes co-substantial with normally positioned labia).

(roll over image)

Like leprechauns and unicorns I would have thought suchlike fantastic—little Miss Albright’s misbegotten imp aside. Seen while in their infancy, even oddball organs look cute compared to grown-up monstrosities that wrap round the psyche like a mortal sin’s caress, lewd yet rudely beautiful, temptingly perverse, and patently designed by some devotee of Lucifer—sobriquet Stuyvesant Fink; a serpent if ever there was one.

Also seen in close-up is a shot of Nana's breasts, symmetry so precise as to seem unreal, nipples so pronounced they suggest arousal during the photo session.

(roll over image)

Arranged by whom, under what pretext, and how obtained by him who would wish such beauty slaughtered?
I’ll not do it. The lass could be a Hell hag; I’d not send her to Satan.

Nana’s eyes usurp the handheld screen, Eurasian, comely, sensual, exotically refined, their mystical intensity a marvel to behold.

Looks more like an angel, a man’s illusion of a woman not her warts-and-all reality. A figment or a fabrication? Or a mystery with a pseudonym?

Dad opens and plays the file of his client’s initial contact...

‘Mr. O’Rourke, very glad am I that
we have come to agreeable terms.’

... listening to the voice while peering at Nana’s images...

‘You will please report via email
to the following address.’

... imagining animate lips imparting the instructions...

‘S r y me at JEANNECLAUDE dot e t dot net.’

... doubts about her gender starting to dissolve...

‘Daily, if you would be so kind, by no later
than midnight, Eastern Standard Time.’

... accent, tone, and throatiness consistent with her semi-sultry gaze...

‘Number each correspondence and
expect a brief confirmation.’

... Jeanne Claude's femininity, anomaly irrespective, hauntingly confirmed.