The bar was dimly lit, but so grungy and grimy that the burnt out light bulbs only enhanced its aesthetic appearance. Overhead, a dusty fan turned so slowly that the stale air didn't circulate much, although most of the clientele were smoking too heavily to mind. Angel tossed the jaded bartender a bill, grabbed a bottle of beer and headed toward a seat at the back of the room. Taking the empty chair on one side of a small round table, she placed a folded up newspaper down next to the table's ashtray and tried very hard not to look at the bearded man sitting across from her.

"You aren't one of the usual customers here," the bearded man remarked, keeping his own eyes focused on the paper he already held in his hands. Thick 'hearing aid' wires protruded from his ears, which were enormous.

"There's room for more than one Negotiator in this city," Angel said.

"Perhaps," Big Ear answered. "But what would another Negotiator be dealing in?"

"Ornithology. I'm looking for a yellow-crested, yellow-breasted jailbird."

Big Ear rustled his paper, as if considering.

"Such birds are extremely rare," he finally said. "But I hear something with that plumage has been spotted down near the old lighthouse at Dead Man's Point. Good luck with your bird-watching, Negotiator."

"Thanks." Angel got up and walked away, leaving her newspaper with its concealed wad of cash behind.

[-]

"Has he been this way for long?" Dr. Carter asked, getting out a hypodermic needle and a small vial of liquid.

"For approximately twenty minutes and forty-nine point five seconds," Dorothy answered.

"Well it's good that you summoned me so soon. His fever is dangerously high. Ordinarily, I'd suggest moving him to a hospital, but I don't think it would be safe at the present time." The doctor loaded up the needle and injected his patient with the medicine from the vial. Roger moaned and trembled while Dorothy attempted to hold him still for the doctor, but he showed no sign of regaining consciousness. He was soaked in sweat and his breathing sounded labored. On the doctor's instructions, Dorothy placed instant cold packs around Roger's head.

"He will get better, won't he?" Norman asked, unable to conceal the doubt in his voice.

"Yes," Dorothy answered, without waiting for a response from the physician. "He told me he would. It's one of his rules."

Norman nodded to her and followed Dr. Carter out of the room. Behind them, Dorothy held Roger's hand and adjusted one of the cold packs so that it rested across Roger's burning forehead.

"I don't like the turn his condition has taken at all," Dr. Carter whispered to Norman. "I'll stay and try to get him through this crisis, of course, but it isn't good." The doctor looked over Norman's shoulder to glance at his patient through the open crack in the doorway. "Hmph. Can't say I'd want an android for a nursemaid myself. They're efficient, I'll give them that. But so unfeeling."

[-]

The new hideout couldn't have been more perfect. He should have thought of the place years ago, instead of trying to have bases in crowded city areas. Once he made T-Bone and Dove hollow out the lighthouse interior, it would be large enough to conceal a megadeus-sized robot of Beck's own. And with a name like Dead Man's Point, most superstitious city dwellers – including the police – stayed away.

Yes, Beck old boy, he thought to himself, things were definitely looking up!

Of course, it never hurt to take chances on a little extra security . . . . With a malevolent grin, Beck activated the beacon system he'd set up on lighthouse grounds. Pure genius! If Roger Smith's griffon or any police vehicle or tank showed, the computer system would ID it and go into defensive mode. As for the damn black megadeus, hopefully it was too damaged to show up anytime soon . . . . And maybe, just maybe, Beck could build something that would at last crush it like the obsolete tin can it deserved to be!

Buoyed by that thought, he was completely unprepared for the feel of a gun at his back.

"Bet you didn't think I could move quietly when I wanted to," Dastun commented to the startled master criminal.

"You!" Beck screeched, recognizing the voice coming from behind him. "You can't possibly be here!"

"Really? Hands in the air, no sudden moves!" Dastun commanded.

Beck, never one for being law-abiding, dropped to the floor, rolled, and aimed a taser beam at him, which Dastun only just managed to avoid. Dastun cursed and fired a warning shot. He couldn't afford to shoot Beck for real – at least not while he didn't know the location of the stolen components – but he didn't want Beck to realize that. In the smoke kicked up from the gun and the taser impact however, Beck managed to flee toward the door of the lighthouse balcony. Dastun cursed again, and ran after him as Beck was confronted by another figure already on the balcony.

"Going somewhere?" Angel asked sweetly as she karate-chopped the taser out of Beck's hand. The weapon fell a very long way down to the beach below.

"Ow! Who the hell are you?" Beck screeched, as he tried to dodge, only to be caught between two opponents and the thin lighthouse railing.

"You can call me . . . Trouble," she said with a smile that was anything but angelic. "I'd like to talk to you about some missing Paradigm Corp property."

Beck attempted to climb over the railing to a lighthouse ladder below, only to withdraw in alarm as the fragile, rusty ladder gave way and also clattered down.

"I wouldn't recommend that," Angel said. "I came up my own way. Want to try?" Without waiting for a response, Angel clicked a small gadget she'd been holding in her hands, and a thin strand of grapple line wrapped itself tightly around Beck's torso. Another click, and a grapple hook anchored itself firmly into the lighthouse wall. "Have a nice trip!" she said, cheerfully kicking his legs out from under him, so that he went over the side railing and suddenly found himself dangling about eighty feet off the ground.

"Are you insane?" Beck screamed, swinging back and forth unable to free himself.

"No. Just temperamental. Now tell me where you hid the components you took from Alex Rosewater's lab."

"No way!" the blond felon shouted back. "I stole those parts fair and square!"

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?" Angel asked, slapping the grapple line hard so that Beck was spun around in a dizzying fashion.

"Dastun!" Beck yelled. "I have my rights! Save me from this madwoman!"

To Beck's horror, Dastun yawned and looked at his watch.

"Huh. I'm off-duty." Dastun grunted. "Guess I'll have to leave things up to my Negotiator."

"Nooo!" Beck cried. Ol' Crow Boy probably wanted to kill him for that robot drone attack he'd been forced into!

"I'm going to get some doughnuts," Dastun drawled over to Angel. "Want one?"

"Sure," she grinned, taking out a pair of scissors and glancing at the grapple line.

"Wait! I'll talk! I'll talk!" Beck wailed.

[-]

Twenty minutes and the retrieval of one box of rare android components later, Angel checked off the last item in Dastun's list.

"Everything's there," she said. "Norman should be able to repair her now."

"I sure hope so," Dastun muttered.

With Beck's defense system turned off, Dastun's military police backup was on its way. Beck still cursed and swore at both of them from his secure but precarious-looking position.

"I suppose we'll have to haul him back up," Dastun scratched his head and sounded rather reluctant at the idea.

"I'll leave that up to you." Angel handed him the box and the list. "I have to get out of here. It wouldn't do for your men to see you were riding around in a pink car with a wanted woman." They'd switched vehicles when Dastun suspected Beck might have an ID beacon operating.

"I'm going to try to get the charges against you dropped," Dastun told her. "Maybe there'll even be a reward for capturing Beck."

"Keep the Negotiation fee. For now," she added. "Give Roger and Dorothy my best wishes."

"Will do. We made a pretty good team, didn't we?" He waited a few seconds for an answer, but when he looked up she was gone.