Chapter 2
"December 21st, 1988 (Day)"
Now it was five months after that conversation did this story truly begin, at least on my end. It was a few days before Christmas and it had been a few months since my son, Tim, decided to stay here in Ryme City with me and my partner, Detective Pikachu, to solve crimes here. Honestly, if it weren't for Mewtwo, this would not have been possible at all. Thankfully, it did happen and now we were preparing for our first Christmas as father and son.
"What do you think, Pik?" I asked as I looked over our Christmas tree. "Just right?"
"Pika!"
"Yeah, I think so, too."
"Yeah, I have to agree with Pikachu here," added Tim. "Feels like we are getting back something we lost long ago, isn't it?"
Of course, the Christmas tree was more than just to mark the holiday, but the start of something new in our family. Nothing but being side by side, solving mysteries and drinking coffee.
"Too bad mom isn't here," Tim remarked, much to our dismay.
"Yeah, I know. Wonder how they celebrate Christmas upstairs?"
I then proceeded towards one of the bookshelves where I saw the picture of my wife when she was pregnant with Tim. Oh, how I missed her greatly. We both missed her.
"Probably no different than down here, I suppose," Tim said. "Being that it is JC's birthday and all. You up for Christmas Eve mass on Saturday night?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" I chuckled as we proceeded into the kitchen. "Loo was nice enough to give us both Christmas and New Year's off so we can spend it as a family."
"Pika."
Of course, this wasn't the only reason as it had also been some time since Tim had been dating that reporter who helped bring down Howard Clifford, the man responsible for my near death experience. There was that Psyduck of hers who would explode when it got stressed, but I've gotten used to it.
It seemed like nothing could keep us from celebrating Christmas together…or was it?
…
Meanwhile, over at London's Heathrow Airport, it was around noon when the Clipper Maid of the Seas, a Boeing 747, touched down after a flight from Los Angeles via San Francisco. Back then, Pan Am was in dire financial straits and the fact that it was a terrorist target didn't seem to help at all. Parking over in Terminal 3, it was to remain at Stand K16 until later that night when it would become Pan Am Flight 103 destined for New York's John F. Kennedy International Airport departing at 6:00pm local time.
Inside Terminal 3, holidaymakers were in the mad dash to make it home for the Christmas holidays and among those were 35 Syracuse University Students who had been studying abroad in England and Italy. They were all young people, roughly around Tim's age with futures ever so bright for them, there was also businesspeople either going home for the holidays or going to New York for some last minute business. What made this sickening was that they would not even be the intended targets for why Flight 103 would be attacked. You see, there were people that were targeted for death by Team Rocket either for personal reasons by some of its agents or because they were a threat to the organization as a whole.
. The first targets on Flight 103 were scheduled to sit in the Clipper Maid of the Seas First Class Cabin: 35-year-old Max Jordan, a corporate business executive and his assistant, 28-year-old Scarlett Antonelli who would be seated in Seats 5A and 5B. They had just been at a business lunch in central London where Max needed a customer to sign papers and now they were on their way back to New York City.
He had asked Scarlett to wear her favorite outfit of hers: a black short sleeved vest with white trimming over a matching black sleeveless minidress, complemented with black pantyhose and the aforementioned slingback high heel stilettos.
Why do I bring these people up? Again, because they were specifically targeted.
"You just had to bring me along for Larry to sign the papers," Scarlett remarked as she tried to keep up with her boss in her high heel slingback stiletto shoes.
"Well, what else could I do, Scarlett?" Max asked. "I always said your beauty melts the hearts of my clients, right?"
"Be sure not to tell Olivia that," Scarlett cautioned. "She'll go bananas."
Finally, they made it into the Pan Am Clipper Lounge along with several other first and clipper class passengers. Some were on Flight 103 to New York, others were going to destinations across the Atlantic or across Europe.
…
The next to arrive at London/Heathrow was 43 year old Nancy Conn and her cousin, 34 year old Charlotte Parks both of Syracuse, New York who were traveling on Flight 103 to connect to Pan Am Express Flight 4919 to Syracuse later that evening.
"Good evening," answered the Pan Am check in agent as both Nancy and Charlotte handed their passports to the agent. "Going back home?"
"Last minute Christmas shopping," answered Charlotte as she placed her suitcase on the scale. "I'm going to be getting married in a couple of weeks, so this is our last girls trip before then."
"Well, congratulations," the agent acknowledged with a smile. "From all of us here at Pan Am."
Once they checked in, the two cousins joined the rest of the passengers for New York and Detroit in Terminal 3.
"Charlotte, I meant to ask you, do you think I'm doing the right thing?" Nancy asked as they left the security checkpoint.
"What?"
"Letting Gary consider joining the Pokemon League Academy," Nancy explained. "It's just so far away and in the Middle East. Not to mention all that talk about Team Rocket."
"Well, it's in Israel honey," Charlotte said as they arrived at Gate K16 and sat down, both crossing their pantyhose clad legs. "Besides, it'll be good for him to go. He'll learn a lot about how to be a Pokemon trainer."
Still Nancy had her suspicions and anxieties. At that time, attending the Pokemon League academy in Tel Aviv was a big deal concerning costs and security. She then remembered something in their checked luggage, a Tauros from one of the neighboring farms outside of London that needed a new home with a loving trainer.
"Do you think Tauros is the right starting Pokemon for him?" she wondered. "If it were up to me, I would have started with a Charmander, Squirtle or Bulbasaur like everybody else."
"Quit worrying Nancy," Charlotte acknowledged, nudging her cousin in the shoulder. "He'll be fine."
Rising to her feet, Nancy made her way over to the Duty Free and picked up some relaxants to help her relax before the flight.
…
Now, contrary to popular belief, London Heathrow was not the starting point for Pan Am Flight 103. The flight actually would begin in Frankfurt, West Germany where many United States Military personnel would begin aboard a Boeing 727 and then transfer to the Boeing 747 in London. Usually, this particular feeder flight was empty, but that would all change on December 21st.
Among those coming to Frankfurt was 57-year-old William Randall, a middle-aged publishing executive from New York who was accompanied by his 30-year-old girlfriend, Laura Alden, the heiress to her father's publishing firm who had been at the publishing firms European headquarters in Moscow, Russia. On the Maid of the Seas, they would be seated in seats 5H and 5F. The day before, on December 20th, Will had flown to Moscow to attend a meeting scheduled about the man who was protege, 34-year-old Stewart Swinton, who had been relocated to the publishing firm's European headquarters in Moscow over his objections.
In fact, the tensions reached a breaking point in the firm's bathroom after the meeting concluded earlier that day.
"Will. I was just about to come see you," Stewart said as he entered the bathroom. "To tell you I talked to Alden over the phone about the senior consultant position. It's yours if you want it. It's less pay, of course, but so is here in Moscow."
"Well, thank you, Stewart, but I've had a better offer," said Will, urinating in one of the urinals. "The house back in New York."
Naturally, of course, Stewart was shocked, but he wasn't prepared for what was coming next.
"It's fairly simple. I did the same thing you did," explained Will. "I nagged Alden until he gave me your job back in New York. Oh, and by the way, you're demoted to staying here in Moscow."
"What are you talking about?"
"Eastern Europe is a rising market as Alden says and I'm sure you'll like it here in Moscow," answered Will in a sarcastic tone. "In fact, the weather is nice this time of year."
Stewart, of course, was cross that this.
"You vindictive son of a bitch," he snarled. "The best thing that New York has is me. I'm the best thing New York has and you fucking know it. This is fucking…"
But before Stewart could finish, Will turned and urinated on Stewart's shoes.
"What are you crazy?!" he cried.
"No, I'm just marking my territory and you got in the way," Will said, turning back around to finish doing his business. Incensed and insulted, Stewart attempted to clean his shoes.
"Nice, real nice," he said crossly as he walked away from the bathroom. "Suede Shoes."
"Asparagus," replied Will as Stewart slammed the door while leaving.
…
But Stewart wasn't the only problem Will was dealing with in Moscow. Once Will had left the publishing offices, he returned to a hotel in Central Moscow and standing in the doorway was a woman, a woman that Will knew all too well.
"Will?" the woman asked, wearing a long gray overcoat over a gray pantsuit, stopping Will in the lobby. He slowly walked disapprovingly over to the woman. "Please, can I talk to you? Just for a moment of your time. For 16 years, that's pretty cheap."
"What do you want?" Will asked in a low voice. "And what are you doing here in Moscow?"
"I want to come back," the woman pleaded.
"No," Will refused firmly.
"I have no excuse," the woman protested. "I deserve anything you do to me. I'm just...begging you...to be kind. For our sake!"
"Stewart became unlovable now that he's out of my job and relocated here to Moscow? Is that it? You fly across the Atlantic to beg me to come back to you after you cheated on me with him?"
"I never loved Stewart," the woman cried, her eyes filled with tears. "It was a mistake Will, I'm going to talk to him. Stewart, never for moment, meant anything to me."
"And you think that makes it better? That you betrayed me over and over again with a man who meant nothing to you? To know that you betrayed me for nothing?"
Will was just about to leave when the woman stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.
"Don't be such a smug..." she hissed.
"Don't touch me!" Will retorted, regaining his sleeve and slowly walking out of the lobby, much to the woman's shock and disbelief. "And keep away."
Hurt and dismayed, the woman left as at that same moment, Laura Alden, Will's fiancee arrived at the hotel, holding what appeared to be a large item in her hands. She and the woman locked eyes briefly and Laura watched as she left. Sighing, she proceeded back up to the hotel room just as Will was staring at himself in the mirror, taking in several meditations as he heard Laura knock on the door.
"Will?" she called, catching his attention as he answered it. Opening the door, Will smiled briefly as he kissed his fiancée and allowed her to come in. "I, uh, got a late present for my father. What do you think of it?"
She then took what appeared to be a nutcracker out of the bag and showed it off to him.
"It's very nice," Will said. "Just make sure no Pokemon capable of eating wood get into it."
They both shared a chuckle and Laura removed and hung up her gold winter coat as well as removed her brown boots, placing them in the closet.
"Um," Laura asked, quickly sensing that something was wrong with Will. "Is something wrong? You've got that look again."
"Charlotte was in the lobby, begging me to come back to her. I told her no."
Laura sat down next to her future husband at the edge of the bed and stroked his back. For she knew what it was like to be cheated on.
"I'm sorry," she said. "You know you're better than her."
"And so is Stewart," Will replied, bitterly. "That son of a bitch tried to steal my job just because he is younger than me. Laura, you know me and so does your father. You both know that I am more capable than he is in this publishing firm."
"Of course, you are," Laura said. "Ever since we first met when my father took over the business, I've seen just how capable you are. Besides, I've always had this fascination for...wounded men."
"And wounded Pokemon," Will added. "If you hadn't been the heiress to your father's empire, you would do well at a Pokemon center."
Rising to her feet, Laura took off her black sweatshirt and proceeded to put on a crocheted beige sweater over a white t-shirt.
"Yeah, I mean I have the skills, Will, to work with Pokemon," she said. "It's just...all my life, I've always been the black sheep of the family. Losing my mother at 12 years old, losing my little brother to suicide last year. My father seemed to look on Henry and Caroline as his favorites."
"Then why doesn't he make them heirs?"
"Because they have their own lives, Will," Laura sighed. "And I want my father to see me for who I am. If he had, I wouldn't have done what I did...doing drugs and being a delinquent."
As she placed the nutcracker in a box, Laura felt a hand on her shoulder.
"But you aren't that anymore," Will reassured. "Remember what I said that day we had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at your cottage? That I think I understand what you're like now. You're very beautiful and you think men are only interested in you because you're beautiful, but you want them to be interested in you because you're you. The problem is, aside from all that beauty, you're not very interesting. You're rude, you're hostile, you're sullen, you're withdrawn. I know you want someone to look past all that at the real person underneath but the only reason anyone would bother to look past all that is because you're beautiful. Ironic, isn't it? In an odd way you're your own problem."
Laura could only smile at this statement.
"And that is why you are the man I hope to marry for better or for worse," she giggled and the two of them kissed each other in a passionate manner.
"By the way," he said before they could go any further with their passion. "When we get back to New York, I have something that I want to tell you. Something important."
"Yes, what is it?"
"After we get back to your cottage."
Just then, the phone in their hotel room rang and Will answered it.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Mr. Randall," said the hotel concierge in a Russian accent. "I just got a notice from Pan American World Airways regarding your connecting flight tomorrow in Frankfurt."
"What about it, Ivor?"
"They told me Pan Am Flight 67 to New York has been cancelled for operational reasons. The next available option is Flight 103 via London which leaves at 4:30pm tomorrow night."
Naturally, Will sat back in the sofa and sighed deeply. It seemed that whatever he was planning to reveal to Laura was going to have to wait.
"What time would we arrive in New York?"
"At 9:19pm, sir."
"What about that new direct from Moscow to New York that leaves tomorrow afternoon?"
"No seats are available, Mr. Randall. I'm sorry. The good news is that you and your companion are in First Class."
"Thank you, Ivor," Will answered and he hung up the phone, before turning towards Laura. "Looks like we've got a change in plans, Laura."
"What kind of plans?" Laura asked nervously.
"That we'll be landing in New York a couple of hours later than expected, about 3 hours."
"Well, it could be worse," she chuckled, making the best of a bad situation. "Might as well start packing up, we've got a long flight back ahead of us."
...
Now, at this point in the story, I wanted to share with you a short story that Laura had written just before she left for Moscow that her father revealed after her death. It was about the outfit that she had chosen to wear on Flight 103 that held great significance to her in the event that the unthinkable were to happen:
…
…
One year…
One year since I last wore this. As I stand before my mirror looking at my reflection, I wonder something…has it really been that long since we buried you…since you decided to leave us all? How is that possible? Has it really been that long since I decided to show off my femininity?
I mean, why did I choose to wear this? It's probably the only one I have that is the only one decent for tonight where I meet a man that I am not only caring for but also falling in love with. A man who is older and wiser and who is undergoing a transformation if you will (pardon the expression).
But I also had a man in my life that I saw as a little brother and that was you.
When I first heard you killed yourself…I can remember where I was when I learned the truth of your exit, your sudden exit to be precise. You were diagnosed with something that you didn't want to live with.
Why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you let me help you?
I'm a nurse, for Christ's sakes!
I'm supposed to be there for those who need my help. You were no different. Our father had all the money in the world to support you, to care for you, to help you live an extra few years. And yet, you turned your back on us before you even gave me a chance to help you.
…
Then came the day where I last wore this suit…the day of your funeral. It was in the summer, so you probably may have noticed some differences in how I wear this. For one thing, I didn't wear pantyhose that dark day like I am right now. It was a hot day and I didn't want any runs in my pantyhose. I could have worn any color pantyhose, but I settled on white pantyhose for tonight because they always say white is the color of rebirth, like they preach for seven Easter Sundays, remember that?
I also had on this short sleeved black sweater because when we were kids, we both loved Mr. Rogers and how we would have you wear our father's sweaters so you can pretend to be like him. We sure had a lot of memories watching Mr. Rogers, didn't we? I can even try and zip up my sweater right now, but I can't because you won't see me do it.
It was also strange to wear a long sleeved white blouse on a hot day. But it was because I wanted to hide the new spider tattoo that I had given myself at the time on my shoulder. If our father saw me with that on, he would go bananas on me. Again, they always say that white is the color of rebirth. But wearing white doesn't seem to do any good right now these days. You aren't like Lazarus coming back from the dead…my Lazarus.
When I stepped into the funeral home, the only sounds that were heard weren't the sounds of that mournful music that usually plays at funerals, but those were the sounds of my black high heel stilettos, the same ones I wear right now and we were alone, you and me. There could have been organ music, melancholy funeral music that they play in funeral homes, but the sounds of these heels were your music.
My black skirt that I am wearing right now is the same black skirt that I remember flowing as I knelt at your casket like a small gust of wind. If only that gust of wind from this skirt kneeling would bring you back to life. But you didn't come back to me, little brother. You were gone and there was no way I could bring you back.
Suddenly, I get the urge to spin around for a second in front of my mirror, trying to make my skirt flowing again to produce a gust that would bring you back to me. But the only thing that appears if I did isn't you, but the white full slip I was wearing under my outfit. They always say that lace slips protect your dresses and skirts from sweat and perspiration, especially in winter like it is now…I was your full lace slip, brother. Why didn't you use me to dry you from your sweat and perspiration?
Through my makeup, the same makeup I am wearing now…I cried tears of sadness, tears of a brokenhearted older sister who cared for you, who wanted you at my side while also not ruining my mascara and eyeshadow.
But, you wanted to go home.
I'm even wearing the same red lipstick that I had on when I kissed your cheek one last time. If only you can be here one last time for me to kiss your cheek one more time.
…
I'm also wearing a wristwatch, a wristwatch that once belonged to my mother…our mother who died long before you did. I was 12, you were 10. That day was a dark day for sure, little brother. Being a druggie and a delinquent, a lot of my days were dark, but you always brightened my day. I wanted to give you my wristwatch and put it on your wrist to give you as a sign of not just your mother…but your older sister that was always there for you where I could drop what I was doing and be at your side. Plus, you were always curious about what time it was.
…
The only difference you may have noticed are my earrings, which I neglected to wear that dark day, much to my chagrin. They are circle shaped with diamonds in them, do you see?. We always liked seeing full moons when we were kids because full moons were like two halves coming together. I was one half of the moon and you were the other half and we came together.
As I've gotten older, you know that there were plenty of men who wanted to be the other half of the moon because of my natural beauty. But you were my other half because God gave you to me as my other half. Now it seems that my earrings hold a different symbolism because I'm one earring and you are the other earring.
…
But nothing will seem to bring you back to me, little brother. Here I am, all dressed up for a date with a man who is just like you…wounded and lost, just like you were once. This suit may show off my beauty and feminine nature, but each piece of the suit represents a piece of everything I related to you. All I can do now is sigh and don my favorite brown coat, covering the sweater that reminded you of Mr. Rogers when we were kids. I'll take it off again eventually tonight (and perhaps more if not all, if I can succeed in getting my new love to love me).
Until that moment though, I'm wearing this for you little brother in your memory. Rest easy…
...
Sure enough, the very next morning, Laura did exactly as what she wrote in that story. She was wearing that same outfit and on their way to Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport, Will acknowledged her beauty.
"You know, don't be upset if I say this," he said, causing Laura to blush slightly. "You are still beautiful...and have always been the nicest girl."
"I seem to recall you said those words on our first date not too long ago," she said.
"And I think you'll remember what I have to say later tonight at your cottage," added Will.
A few hours later, they boarded Pan Am Flight 725, a Boeing 727, to Frankfurt, West Germany and were airborne by 9:30am, heading southwest and landing at Frankfurt Airport just before 1:00pm.
...
...
Also heading towards Frankfurt Airport aboard Pan Am Flight 59 from Nuremberg, West Germany were two young lawyers specializing in Pokemon related cases. 24-year-old Jessica Koster of San Francisco and 29-year-old Stacey Keane of Los Angeles had just won a case concerning the hijacking of Pan Am Flight 73 two years earlier. At Nuremberg's famous Palace of Justice, they had tried the four surviving Team Rocket agents who carried out the deadly hijacking in Karachi, Pakistan that killed 20 people. Now, they were heading back home just in time for Christmas aboard Flight 103, seated in First Class Seats 3A and 3B.
"Another case closed, Stacey," said Jessica, who had short brown hair and was dressed in a blue skirt suit with a gold blouse and brown high heels. "Just in time for Christmas."
"It's too bad we don't get to work together so often, Jess," remarked Stacey, who had long blonde hair tied in a ponytail and was dressed in an olive-green skirt suit with a green blouse, white pantyhose and black high heels. "Given that we are now high-ranking lawyers in such a short time, we should consider opening our own practice."
"Seems likely, I mean we are essentially a short flight away from each other," said Jessica. "Let's plan after Christmas to look at options. Besides, who knows how many Team Rocket agents we will need to prosecute and put away in prison to protect Pokemon and their trainers."
As the Boeing 727 pulled into the gate at Frankfurt Airport, the two lawyers proceeded into the Pan Am terminal, but not before being watched by three men trying to hide themselves amongst the crowds of travelers. Looking up at the Departures board, they saw that their connecting flight to New York, Pan Am Flight 67, was cancelled.
"Are you serious?" remarked Stacey. "Flight's been cancelled?"
"Looks that way," replied Jessica. "And it looks like our connecting flights are screwed. Must be that warning that was sent out a few weeks ago."
"Might as well check this out," said Stacey and they walked over to a Pan Am Customer Service desk to get news on what was happening.
"You've both been rebooked on Pan Am Flight 103 to New York at 4:30pm," said the German accented agent. "However, you will need to make an equipment change in London."
"What about our connections?" asked Jessica. "I'm supposed to go to San Francisco, and she's supposed to go to Los Angeles."
The agent looked into it and had good news.
"You've both been placed onto 11:00pm flights: Flight 25 to San Francisco and Flight 50 to Los Angeles arriving tomorrow morning at 1:00am and 1:30am, respectfully."
"Thanks," smiled Stacey as they left the desk. "I'd better call Richard and tell him that my flight's been changed."
"Good idea."
...
Also arriving at the Frankfurt Airport on Pan Am Flight 295 from Berlin, West Germany was 32-year-old Scarlett Garcia, a Washington based reporter for CMN and a close friend of Lucy Stevens who was going to spend Christmas back home with her family in the Washington, DC area after completing an assignment in Berlin, West Germany. Scarlett was someone that would take her job seriously as a reporter and someone that Lucy would always look up to. On this day, Scarlett looked the part of a journalist with her attire being an orange business suit consisting of a blazer with two gold buttons, a red blouse, an orange skirt, yellow earrings, and red low-heeled shoes. That morning, she had been working on a story in Berlin involving Madame Boss possibly working with Howard Clifford concerning the R gas incident a couple months back and was planning to publish the story after the Christmas holidays. But her focus on December 21st was returning home to her family aboard Pan Am 103 seated in the very first seat of the First Class Cabin in Seat 1J.
...
Meanwhile, in Tel Aviv, Israel, 25 students and one of their teachers from the world famous Pokemon League Training Academy had been getting ready to go home to the United States for the holidays. Their lead teacher scheduled to escort them back to the United States was 25-year-old Machiko Natsukawa, a naturalized Japanese American citizen who had only been teaching at the academy for three years at that time. But in that short time, Machiko had made quite the impression at the academy, becoming popular with students and teachers alike. She took her job seriously and had always reflected that in her appearance.
On December 21st, 1988, Machiko woke up early and went about her morning routine of showering, drying her short brown hair and selecting what suit she would wear for the day. On this day, Machiko had chosen to wear a black suit consisting of a jacket and skirt along with a long-sleeved green blouse. On her legs and feet, she had chosen to wear nude pantyhose and a pair of black high heel stilettos. As she finished her morning cup of coffee, Machiko received a phone call from the school regarding the flight plans of her and her students.
"Are you certain that our Pan Am flight was cancelled?" she asked the El Al ticket agent over the phone.
"Yes, due to operational issues," replied the male agent on the other line. "Your Pan Am Flight 67 from Frankfurt to New York scheduled to depart at 2pm has been cancelled. However, there are plenty of seats available on Pan Am Flight 103 which leaves at 4:50 and arrives in New York at 9:19pm with an equipment change in London. So, we moved you and your group to that flight."
"Some of my students have connections in New York," she protested.
"They will be automatically rebooked on the next available flights out of New York, Miss," replied the agent in a reassuring tone. "Remember, your safety is more important than anything."
Sighing, Machiko hung up the phone and slid on her yellow coat and tied a red scarf around her neck, not wanting to cause any alarm to the students she would be escorting. Leaving her apartment, she made her way to the campus' main entrance where students were already gathering.
"Miss Machiko, good morning," said a student.
"Good morning, everyone," acknowledged Machiko. "How did everyone sleep?"
"Fine," said another student, who took notice of a troubled look on Machiko's face. "Is everything all right, Miss Machiko?"
"Oh, nothing," she chuckled, not wanting to frighten her students. "Nothing at all. Just be sure to have everything with you...especially your Pokemon and your Passports."
Machiko knew that she had to remain strong for her students, but the sudden cancellation of their nonstop Pan Am flight from Frankfurt to New York will play a major impact later on in the story. Nevertheless, they all had Economy Class seats on Flight 103 and considering that the Clipper Maid of the Seas wouldn't be completely full would give them no worry on seating.
At the same time as the El Al flight and the other Pan Am flights were all arriving in Frankfurt, Iran Air Flight 150 had also landed from Tehran, Iran and inside the plane's belly was a device that held two explosive Pokemon inside, one of several similar suitcases that had been checked in at Frankfurt and London, ticking down to cause the deadliest terror attack against Americans at that time, all for the glory of Team Rocket.
…
…